Monkey Business Ch. 4 -The Great Raid

>Clearly, this was not your natural environment.
>For starters there was far too much nature.
>You were not designed to be thrown from waterfalls by gorillas or pumped full of darts by zebras.
>The gorilla's words were still eating away at your mind.  He called you a human.  How could he have known what you were?
>Well, you really weren't intending on walking back and kindly knocking on his front door at any rate.
>Dumptruck is currently sitting on your head.  You have given up on the concept of ever having decent-looking hair for the duration of your stay.
>He hasn't tried insulting you for a while.  Or pick the bugs out of your hair.
>You assume you're walking in a non-dangerous direction.  But you could be going around in circles for all you know.
>It's hard to tell time in the shadowy jungle floor, but it's been at least a few hours since you've left the pools.
>"Hey...Dumptruck?"
"What?"
>"That Deimos guy...he won't really try to throw us to the alligators or anything, right?"
>He drums his fingers on your head.
"Well...I ain't never broke into his house is all.  This ain't the first time I pissed the big guy off.  Give 'em two weeks an I can waltz back in there carefree as I fuckin' please.   An' if he don't like it, I know a couple a cliffs he can practice flyin his fucks offa."
>He climbs over your skull and lowers his head in front of your own.
"But you!  Hot damn, you lit his ass somethin' fierce! Did you see da way he was yellin? 'Ah'm Deimos an dis is da promise I make rah-laddy-frickin'-rah!'  He's normally a lot slower ta burn,  but you heated him up like a lion in matin' season.  Yeah he'll kill ya."
>"I'm really good at first impressions."  That figured as much.  Gorilla Munch back there didn't seem like one to understand the concept of a joke.
"Keep him that energetic and he might get a crush on ya."
>"That's sick, man."
"No, seriously, he will crush you with those big fuckin' boulder hands a his.  I've seen him do it once to a jaguar."
>"Sure."
>Dumptruck took immediate offence at you doubting his words.
"Straight-as-you-ain't I'm sure.  It went like this -da jaguar was stalkin' around, right?  Not quite lunchtime, so something about him was already off.  Gotta play by the rules, yeah?  Well, Spots figure'd he's too good for da rules, and he came up on these two bonobo kids playin' around.  Kids who wondered off just a bit too far from mom and pop."
>Dumptruck jumped to the ground and crawled along the dirt on all fours, imitating what he imagined to be a scary predator and failing completely.
"Step-step-step, you know, real dramatic, thinkin' he's hot-shit.  So he's making some noise, the kids hear it, yeah?  They scream and book it.  Well, some preds are just sick bastids like that and get their kicks out of that sorta thing, so he goes after them, cuttin' in front a dem and making them go in circles."
>He bounces around on the trees.  Your head snaps around in circles as the capuchin tells his story.
"But they're just kids, right?  They can't run forever.  So he has them cornered up in a tree, he sticks his claws out and pounces."
>He jumps on your head.
"Lemme tell ya, jaguars are like damn kangaroos.  They'll jump after food like flies to crap.  So there he is, at a vertical fuckin' height of ten feet with nothin' but air beneath 'em when Deimos comes swinging outta nowhere roarin' loud enough to make the trees fall down.
"Oh, buddy, the money I'd give to see the look on that bastids face when Deimos grabbed his tail and fuckin' slammed him down to the ground.  He tried to run off, 'cus he was a scaredy puss, but Deimos don't take that.  Instead he grabbed his tail with both arms and swung him around, bashin his checkered-ass into trees, rocks an' the dirt.  Eventually that bored Deimos so he just grabbed da jaguar's head between his fists and-"
>Dumptruck slams his hands against the sides of your skull and makes a loud squelching sound.
"Nastiest fuckin' mess I ever seen.  I should know, me and the boys saw his handiwork with our own eyes.  Not even his own mother woulda recognized him. Reagan nearly chucked his breakfast."
>You find yourself believing the story.  That gorilla was beyond huge.  He definitely ate his wheaties growing up.
>So the moral of the story is don't let Gorilla Grod get his hands on you.
>"So what did Deimos do after all...that?"
"Oh...I dunno, I think he took the kids back to they parents or somethin.  I was too busy eatin' the jaguar."
>Your brain stopped a little bit and demanded clarification.  "Um...is that a regular part of your diet?"
"Anon, if I could, I'd eat jaguar, tiger, croc, lion, and every big sharp-toothed bastid that ever looked at me funny.  I ain't picky.  An besides, can't let good meat go ta waste."
>You can't argue with the monkey's logic.  "Okay, makes enough sense." He settles back on your head.
>You brain itches at you.
>"So, if I wind up gettin' killed..."
"No, I probably won't eat you."
>"Probably?"  The hell did that mean?
"Because if you're dead, that means something big an nasty probably took ya out.  So it'd be in my best interest to get as far away from ya as possible."
>"Oh, okay, so you're only hanging around me because I'd make a better meal for some predator."
"Only mostly.  Don't forget, you still owe me booze.  And you got me on fuckin' probation with the big guy, so you owe me somethin' for that too."
>"You have no idea how thrilled I am to have friend like you."
"Don't mention it.  A lot of folks would kill fer company as pleasurable as mine!"
>"I'm sure they would."  Something with big teeth and sharp claws would love to have him accompany them safely tucked away in their stomach.
>Dumptruck seems to have caught onto this.
"Ha ha ha.  Don't try to act smart, kid.  It ain't gonna work on me."
>You laugh.  It only serves to distract you momentarily from the fact that you have no idea what you're doing.
>You wanted to get out of this freaking nature preserve is what you wanted to do.
>But to do that you needed a plan.
>You were hungry, but not yet desperate enough to start fighting Dumptruck for the bugs in your hair.
>You needed supplies, and information.  Maps, food, a way to start a fire would be a big help.
>And there was only one place you knew of to acquire those things.
>"Dumptruck, how do you feel like paying our friend Ranger Running Trails a visit?"
"Are you gonna get shot again?  'Cus that was fuckin' hilarious."
>"I hope not.  No, I need to get to the ranger station so that I can...borrow a few things."
"Is booze one of them?"
>"Yes."
>He chittered a bit.
"I've snatched a few things from the station before...we may need some help.  An I know just the monkey."
>"Oh God, you don't mean...?"
"Yes.  I do."
>Half an hour later you, Dumptruck and Swindly Tim are walking across the plains to the Ranger Station.
"Tell me.  Tell me.  T-T-Tell me.  How again did uh, yeah.  Yeah.  How'd you get here?"
>"An evil witch banished me here."
"Uh-huh.  Cool.  Cool.  Breezy.  And she gave you darts?"
>"She gave me so many goddamned darts."
"Think you can hook me up with her?"
>"Tim, I would absolutely love to introduce you to Rarity."
---
"OH FOR THE LOVE OF CELESTIA SOMEONE GET THIS VILE CREATURE OUT OF MY OVERBLOWN AND TACKY SHOP!"
>The monkey has upturned all boxes, drawers and dressers in an attempt to find narcotics.
>Her shop is beyond ruined.
"Hey, hey, hey.  Lady.  La-lady. Lady, I mostly do vaccination stuff, but do you have anything smokeable?  I always wanted to try those.  Ooh, what's that?"
>He finds her box of powdered diamonds.
"INHALENTS!"
>Tim breathes in all the expensive diamonds.
"My head's FULLA STARS NIGGAS!"
"CURSE YOU ANON!"
---
>"One day, Tim, one day."
>According to Dumptruck, Swindly Tim was the expert on stealing shit.
>However, the rangers were very thoroughly aware of his reputation and sticky fingers, and locked all the doors and windows when they even smelled him coming near the station.
>So the plan was for you to distract Ranger Running Trails while Tim and Dumptruck scoured the visitor center's gift shop for supplies.
>Which shouldn't be too hard at all.  You had a few questions for the good ranger.
>The sun was really freaking hot out on the plains.
>Humid in the jungle, baking on the grasslands.  Just can't catch a break.
>You sigh inwardly.  Story of your life.  Have a crappy life on earth.  Wake up on a cartoon pony planet, and then get booted off into a zoo.
>Someone out there thought this was all funny.
>Whatever.  Whatever.  Just...just deal with it, Anon.  Where there's a will, there's a way.
>Right?
>Dumptruck rapped on your forehead.
"Hey, Anon.  If I were you, I'd start walking over to that herd of gazelle and wildabeests over there."
>He points off.  There was a large group of herbivores huddling around a middlin' sized lake, drinking water and eating grass.
>Something about them pissed you off irrationally.
>They just looked so fat and ugly and smelly
>"Do I have too?"
"Well, unless you wanna hang out with those lions creepin' behind us."
>You turn around.  Sure enough there was three lionesses keeping their distance.  Their eyes were slits, and faces were carved of stone.
>You wave.
>One of them flicks their tails and licks their chops.
>Nope.
>"Those gazelle look friendly enough, we can go say high."
>You head reasoned that since you were an alien element in their environment, you wouldn't be their first choice for a predator's lunch.
>Sorta like how sharks and wolves don't purposefully go after humans.
>But then again, sharks and wolves back home don't talk and insult you.  And they still ate people all the same.
>They were probably more interested in Dumptruck and Tim who were currently living the high-life on your shoulder.
>A slightly reassuring thought, but you'd prefer them not too get eaten on your account.
>You speed up to a jog towards the group of herbivores.
>As you approach they eye you apprehensively.  Then they see the capuchins on riding on you and they just look bewildered and mildly disgusted.
>"Hello, I'm Anon, I'm a human, nice to meet you, I won't eat you, I promise.  Hi.  Hello."
>You worked your way through the heard.  They moo'd, whickered and snorted, or whatever you call the sounds they make.
>As you carefully avoided stepping on hooves and animal shit, you noticed something a little off about the situation.
>Their physical make-up was not that different from the species that runs the preserve.  A little flag waved in your head.
>"Hey...they're kinda similar to 0onies, yeah?"
"Oh, bad move, buddy."
>Dumptruck covered his eyes.
"Hey, don't you dare compare us to those scrawny fruit-cups!"
"Are you blind or something?  You seem some pansy tattoo on my ass or what?"
"Yeah, you sayin' I look like a p0ny?  How about I stamp on yer face and make you look like the bottom of my hoof??"
>Oh great, you just breached a major cultural taboo.  Nevermind the fact that these cud-chewers had a culture.  Time for emergency damage control!
>"No, I meant, uh...how similar you are to them, while being totally different and better than p0nies?"  You look to Dumptruck for further encouragement.
>He has none to offer.
>"'Cus p0nies suck crocodile dicks and I'd rather hang out with you guys."
>A few of the animals laugh and snicker at your joke.  The tension diffuses somewhat.  Several wildabeests look at you scornfully, but most just go back to their own business.
>A wildabeest trots alongside you.
"Yah, you're right on that one.  You see the way they walk around?  Prancing like they own the place."
>"But they do."
"And they won't stop rubbing it in our faces!  See, one came up to me the other day while I was having a drink, just hid behind some bushes, acting like he wasn't there.  Pretending I couldn't see him when he's pointing this big camera at me."
>"Yeah, they can be rude like that."
"Oh no.  No.  That's not the worst part.  The worst part is that he's sitting there with this stupid hat on, clicking away, when a lion jumps out of the bushes and gives me this souvenir."
>He tilts his head back towards his flank, indicating several long and unpleasant gash marks.
"How's that for neighborly shit?  'Oh, I'm just getting a drink of water, don't bother warning me about this crazy huge cat-bitch  that's eyeing my rump'  and not in the sexy way either.  Unless you're into that sort of thing."
>You really didn't know what to say.  You'll admit, you often had similar thoughts when watching documentaries when you were younger.  The cameraman or Mutual of Omaha guy would never try to keep the zebra or water buffalo from getting eaten.  Such callousness was the mark of an asshole.
>Later you learned it was because documentaries were about showing you nature in its natural nature.  Brutal, raw, and unforgiving.
>Which made sense, as well as good entertainment.
>Still mean, though.
>"Doesn't...doesn't really sound like my idea of a good time."
"No it's not a good time!  I'm running across the plains, slipping on my own bloody ass-drippings with a lion hanging off me, screaming to the sky for someone to help me and this guy's just taking pictures for his own jollies.  'Do not interfere my ass.'  I was all set to go give him a piece of my mind when I finally lost them, but he left.  Good for him, though, I would've tossed him to those witches."
>"Well, I'm about to go speak to Running Trails actually.  Maybe I'll file a complaint with him.  I can write, you know.  Tell him not to let tourists act so...insensitive, I guess."
"Don't pay attention to him.  All he does is write love letters to his boyfriend."
>"Shuddap."  Dumptruck and Swindly break into muffled hysterics.
"If it would make a difference, I'd say go for it, friend.  Runnin' Trails always had decent ear out for us.  Most of the rangers are okay, actually.  'Cept for Open Sky."
>Every animal within earshot shuddered.  Dust picked up from their huffs.
"It's just them damn tourists.  They get all close and try to touch you.  Personal space, ponies, you heard of it?"
"Hey, I hear ya pal.  One time I was sittin up in a tree sleepin.  Some trottin' ass-wipe tossed a candy-wrapper at me.  'Lookit da cute monkey, he gonna play wit da pretty wrapper!'  I threw it back and told 'em my pretty pecker's gonna play with their face if they didn't scram.  Ha, sent that kid packin' back to mommy."
>He spat on the ground.
"Assholes."  said the capuchin and the wildabeest.
>You really couldn't believe your ears.  Not once have you ever considered what an animal might think of their own personal situation.  Since they never really said anything, you assumed the just lived with it.
>But now that you've been thrown in an environment where they can talk, you realized something.  Yes, they do live with it...
>But that also love to bitch about it!  Just like you do!
>You decide not to feel left out.
>"Hey, Dumptruck, you know that pony with the purple hair from the other day?"
"Yeah, the one that snuffed your shit out."
>"The very same.  Well, let me tell you the story of the first time I met her."
"Oh, this'll be good."
>"Keep in mind, this was not too long after I first found out p0nies even existed."
>The wildabeest gave a hoarse laugh.
"Where did this guy come from?  I want to live there."
>"No, yo don't.  Horrible place.  Smelled funny and the food was too expensive.  Anyhow, so I'm still getting used to p0nies, walking around, getting used to them, convincing them I'm not going to eat them, when I get to her house.
--
"Oh, you'll just love Rarity, Anon."
>"What's a Rarity?"  This crazed unicorn has been slowly introducing you to her friends for the past several days.
>You feel like you're being put on exhibition.  Paraded around town for the amusement and shock of the indigenous people.
>But Twilight's actions have so far proved she has nothing but your best interests at heart.  It's probably better this way.  Meet everyone, establish you're not some psychotic monster, and get positive PR going.
>It was probably better for you in the long run.
>Still sucked balls, though.  You hated introducing yourself to new people even under normal circumstances.
>Just roll, Anon, just roll.  It's not like you could tell Twilight 'no.'
>She did save you, after all.
>Twilight gives three quick little raps on the door and it flies open immediately.
>The bouncy, smiling, and immaculately well-sculpted scourge of your life answered the door.
"Oh Twilight, darling, how lovely to see you drop in!  I was just working on-"
>She looks at you.  No, she didn't just look at you, she dissected you.  Picking apart every atom of your being, every misplaced strand of hair on your head and wrinkle in your clothes.
>Her mouth turned into the smallest frown.
>And you knew.  You.  KNEW.
"Oh my word, that is simply the most disgusting and awful creature I've seen in all my days.  Does it speak?  Please tell me it's not intelligent, I can't imagine the tortured mind that could reside in something so grotesque.'"
>That when the sun chose to shine down on your face this morning.
"You know how much I love pets, but Twilight, you really should've consulted with Fluttershy or I about taking in strays.
>That when you woke up screaming from traumatic nightmares.
"Accesorizing is always a good thing, but at least put them in something clean, dearest."
>That this was going to be a fantastic day.
"This simply will not do."
>Her horn lights up.  The reality of magic still rattles you.
>You suddenly find all of your clothes being torn away from you.  She bundles them up and trots off back into her house.
>So there you were, standing naked in funny pony-land, your mind obliterated in confusion.
>You still remember how cold the wind felt against your butt.
>Twilight handed you Rarity's welcome mat.  You wrapped it over your glory.
"She's...she can be like that, from time to time.  Very quick to warm up, however!"
>She smiles at you desperately.
>You say nothing.
---
"Yeh, I thought the same thing when I first saw ya."
"That's cruel.  Real cruel."
>"That's the abridged version."
>The animals wince.
"Oh, I hate the ones with the horns."
>"And I do mean all of my clothes.  My shirt, my pants, my shoes, my underwear...here, here, let me tell you how bad this is.  Imagine I shave off all of your fur.  All of it.  And the only thing I say is that its very existance is a blight upon the world and must be removed."
>The wildabeest's eyes go wide in outrage.
"Guy, I've heard some stories, but that's just...that's just severe.  Taking your fur away.  That's half of your mating game."
"Yup.  He's right.  She straight up said to yer face "Hey asswipe, I'm taking away any chance of you ever getting laid again.'  Ain't no dames ever find a shaved monkey sexy.  I'd have to murder someone over that."
>Swindly Tim hops in excitement, slapping his hands on your shoulder.
"I know a guy that DID get murdered over that.  It was a spider monkey it was. Archie yeah.  Poor guy.  Snitched all the feathers off a toucan.  Toucan gets crazy-pissed. Crazy.  Him and all his buddies swoop at night, woke us all up screaming "SURPRISE!"  Snatched a nigga right outta tree and flew off with him. ZOOM!  'Bye Archie, send us a postcard!' The boy was dropping deuces all the way. I heard they tossed him into the piranha pool.  Scared the HELL out of me."
"Oh yeah, I remember that."
"It's funny 'cus I'm the one that stole the feathers."
>The three of you laugh.  You imagine a  bunch of toucans carrying off Rarity and dropping her in a pool full of hungry fish.
>Your lungs explode with mirth.
>The wildabeest stares at you like you all have leprosy.
"What is wrong with you monkeys?"
>Your trio is silent for a moment.  You shrug at the wildabeest.
>"Primate condition.  It's hard to explain."
>He seems to accept your nonsensical explanation and nods.
"Gotta laugh at something, I guess."
>And so the odd menagerie of you walked on, swapping increasingly bizarre and vulgar stories, graviting towards the center of the herd, keeping far away from the interests of hungry lions.
>You get the far end of the congregation.
>All of you are hyperventilating from the hilarity.  It's a good diversion from the heat of the sun and flies that buzz around you.  The hoots of your laughter draw weird stares from gazelles.
>Fuck gazelles, they don't know you.
>"Oh..shi...oh shit, guys, seriously.  Guys, we need to...snrrrkkk..."
"Watch out, he's about to orgasm here."
>"Shove it.  No...okay, nice meeting you man."
>You hold a hand out for the wildabeest to shake.
>He stairs at it.  You pat him on the shoulder instead.
>"But we need to get going.  Gotta speak to the Ranger and all."
"No problem friend, stay sharp, don't get ate."
>There is only a small distance and a few acacia trees from the herd and the collection of buildings that made up the ranger station.
>You jog to one of the bigger trees.
>"How are we looking, Dumptruck?"
>He clambers up to the top of the tree, reaching the uppermost branch and sways precariously.  His small head scans the plains as well as scoping out the station.
"Eh.  The lions is way off.  Looks like they caught some poor dumb shit.  I'm seeing a coupla jeeps behind the ranger station.   One of them is Runnin' Trails'.  He's probably inside."
>How the hell do they have jeeps?  Fucking schizo tech p0nies.
"See a coupla p0nies.  Not carryin' any tranq darts, bet that makes ya feel better."
>He has no idea.
>"Okay, we need to get serious now.  Here's the plan."
>Dumptruck climbs down the tree.  You pick Swindly Tim off your shoulder and settle him on a branch.  He grabs a twig and starts twisting it around in anticipation.
"Tim, Dumptruck, you two hang out here for a while.  I'm going inside the station and I'll distract Running Trails.  Wait like...five minutes before you go up to the building.  If he sees you, or even gets an inkling that you might be around he's gonna pump my ass full of darts and screw over any chance of us getting close to this place again."
>Tim jumps to your chest and pulls on the collar of your shirt.
"Darts?  Darts.  Can he just pump with a few of them?"
>"No, Tim, dammit."  You put the jittering capuchin back on the tree.  "I need you to stay focused.  You've been here before, yeah?  You know where they keep the food?"
"Ach-hem."
>"And the booze?"
>Tim nods vigorously and smiles widely.  His little teeth are a bit creepy.
"Yeah.  Yeah.  Know this place like the back of my hand."  He scratches at his neck.  "I know where all the good stashes are at."
>"Okay, the gift shop is in there, right?  First thing I need you to steal is a sack, stuff it with food, drinks.  Keep a lookout for books.  Anything that says 'survival' or 'medical' on it."
"We can't read, numb-nuts."
>Fuck.   "Okay, just...look for a map, or anything with a white cross on it.  Look inside the pages, if they have important looking pictures, take it.  Or kits.  Something that looks like the rangers may use."
"I think we can handles that."
>"You have to be fast.  I think I should be able to hold of Running Trails for a while, but if I take too long he may get suspicious."
>You hammer out a few more details with your crew.  They seem confidant enough.  The promise of alcohol does much to drum up their enthusiasm.
>All in all, this was a terrible idea.
>But it was the best chance you have.
>You walk up to the Ranger station.
>You knock on the door.  Ranger Running trails opens it up.  The zebra smiles when he sees you.
"Anon!  Good to see you this fine day.  You don't have any nerve damage from the tranquilizers, I hope?  I never had to shoot so many into something so small.  I'm sorry it had to come to that."
>"Me?  I'm fine, best sleep I've had in years.  No worries.  In fact I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day.  Ghastly is what it was, and I have a few questions for you, that's all."
>The ranger makes a 'hmmm' noise and looks behind you.  He glances around undecisively.
"We don't normally allow the wildife into the station..."
>"But, this is important, you see...um..I mean, what's the whole point of this preserve, anyway?"
"The Stated Mission of the Golden Plains Nature Preserve is to encourage the growth of Extra-Natural and Endangered Species, to protect and educate the wo-"
>"EXACTLY!  Educate!  Yeah, see, I'm still new here, don't know crap about this place.  What if a group of tourists come up to me and start asking questions?  I won't know the answers.  They'll say 'Oh, I don't want to come here anymore, there's nothing but stupid animals everywhere.'  Can't have that.  Nope."
>You can see you're winning him over.  There's still a slight hesitation in his eyes, however.
"You don't...have 'him' with you, do you?"
>"No, no of course not.  Just wanted a little one-on-one."
"I guess that's okay..." He brightens up.  "Well, come on in!"
>You walk into the comparitively cooler air of the station. You can hear your pores sigh in relief.
>You scan the room.  There's a clock on the wall, making a note of the time.
>There's also tranquilizer rifle hanging on the wall.
>Your balls clench up in fear.
>"First off, I think it would be best to know, just how many predators are in this preserve?"
"Oh, we have lots!  So many wonderful and powerful animals.  I lose count sometimes.  I think we have close to six thousand crocodiles alone, at least according to last years census."
>"And lions? Cheetahs?  Tigers?"
"Four thousand, six hundred, eighty."
>"Oh...that's...really nice.  Must take a lot of real estate to keep all those...hungry, hungry animals."
"The preserve is absolutely enourmous Anon!  Here, let me show you the map!"
>He walks to the back wall and pulls on a chord, bringing down a huge, detailed map of the entire preserve.
>You see the distance scaler on the corner.  You do a quick mental calculation, applying it to the rest of the map.  You brain breaks.
>"WHAT?  THAT'S LIKE...THREE TIMES THE SIZE OF TEXAS!"
"What's a Texas?"
>"A place with barbecue."  Oh god, this place is huge.
"See this little red dot?  That's where we are."
>The dot he pointed to was far too small to be anywhere near hilarious.  It was also a considerable distance away from the park boundries.
"How do you keep all these animals contained...in the park?
>"We have a very extensive and sophisticated containment fence alllll around the park.  Magically reinforced to keep others from wandering into the more dangerous areas by accident, or letting the wildlife escape out into the higher-risk Equestria."
>he points to the eastern part of the map.
"Except for here. The mountain range Does a good job of creating a natural boundry.  No worries there!  Anon, we have so many ecosystems in the park, it's great.  Here's the swamplands..."
>"Yeah."
"The deserts."
>"Uh-huh."
"The tundra regions."
>"Cool."
"And the volcano!"
>"Fruity."
>"The canyons here border with the jungle."
>The jungle is huge.  Making up at least 30% of the map.
"You already know about the rainforests and the savannah.  How are you enjoying them, so far?"
>"Oh, uh, wonderful.  Making lots of new friends.  So many."
>You stare at the map.  You're pretty sure geography doesn't work like that.  It CANNOT work like that.  This place had too many impossibilities to wrap your head arond.
"Well, I'm happy for you.  I was worried the other day that you might not enjoy your stay here, Anon.  The way you acted around Rarity..."
>"Oh...me and her...we go way back." Your eyes begins to twitch.  "That's just how we communicate."
"You should be glad to have a friend like that, she was so heartbroken when she left you lying in the dirt like that."
>Oh, you'd like to break her heart, along with her skull and everything else of Rarity's that can go crunch.
>"She's just that type of mare."  Your arms is trembling.  You squeeze onto a counter to steady yourself."
>Okay, quick, Anon.  Think, think.  You still needed to give Dumptruck and Tim a little while longer.
>Lightning struck your brain with pure brilliance.
"Say, speaking of friends, is there any way to send someone a letter?  I'd like to let them know my exact whereabouts and living conditions, so that they know I'm okay."
>The ranger considered this.
"Well, we do have some gift cards, I guess I can let you write one."
>"Oh thank God.  Running Trails, you are my favorite p0ny in the whole world right now."
>He blushes.
"Aw shucks, it's no problem.  I'm just glad you're not upset about this whole situation."
>He hands you a gift card and a pen from a stand by the desk.
>Okay...think...think....
>"Dear Rainbow.  Stuck at the Golden Plains Nature Preserve.  They won't let me leave.  Currently staying in the jungle.  Everyone hates me.  Send help.  Rarity did it.  Please kill her. I miss you, Anon."
>You chew on the pen.
"P.S.  Don't let anyp0ny take my PS3.  You can use it for the time being."
>You stuff it in an envelope and write down the relevant addresses.  You hand it to Running Trails.
"Postage is two bits."
>Fuck.
>You rummage through your pockets.  Somehow you actually have a few bits to give.  The ranger accepts them, beaming.
>"Say, how long does it take for the mail to run around here?"
"We are some ways away from major population centers.  It can take anywhere from a week to a month before a letter gets to its destination.  But it'll get there, no worries!"
>Crap.  Okay.  You can tough it out for a few weeks.  Just think of it as an extended vacation.
>You look at the clock on the wall.  Enough time has passed.  You pray your minions have gotten what you needed.
>"Well, Running Trails, I thank you kindly for your hospitality and not shooting me."
"No problem Anon!  Always glad to help out our charges!"
>You slowly walk to the front door.
"Hey...Ranger...you said there are dangerous areas in the park, right?"
>"A few, but they're mostly environmental hazards.  Just stay away from the more sketchy terrain, keep on eye out on where the other animals sleep and how they behave.  You'll be fine.
>"Okay...but what about Big Red?"
>The smile falls off Running Trails like a lead weight.  His voice goes dark as a thunderstorm.
"Like I said.  Watch the wildlife.  They act different when he's around.  If you're staying in the jungle, you should be okay.  He doesn't go through there this time of year.  He mostly stays around the canyons and volcano region."
>You don't really move.  Jesus, was Big Red really that scary?
>"What...what is he, exactly?"
>The zebra shakes his head.
"He's something we never should've accepted into the Preserve.  Anon, if you even hear that he's anyone close to your region, move on.  Come to the Ranger Station if you have to.  We'll move you somewhere else."
>"Yeah, sure thing. Thanks."
>He pops back up.
"Hey, no problem Anon!  Thanks for stopping by!  Hope you have a great day."
>You open the door to the outside world.
"AND JUST WHAT IN CELESTIA'S NAME ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
>Oh what?  What?
>A yellow pegasus with a sandy mane was floating in front of you.
>She had a vest matching with Running trails and a safari hat on.
>"Hello, I'm A
"A wild animal who is in a no-wildlife zone is what you are.  Human.  Newest addition.  You do not belong here."
>Running trails raises his hoof behind you.
"He just wanted to know a little more about the park, Open Sky.  He was just leaving.  Not hurting anyone."
>The pegasus scoffs.
"He is hurting himself by being inside an artificial structure.  He is having his natural development impeded.  This is causing risk to his mental stability as a wild animal who cannot comprehend and does not belong in an urban environment."
>She points a hoof to your chest.
"You are in a habitat primed for your happiness.  Get outside."
>She had the type of voice that you don't argue with.  Each word is clippsed.  Her voice had enough of an edge to chop heads off.
>"You know, I used to live in a city, right?"
"But you don't anymore, do you?  You're under our protection and I say being here is a hazard to your health.  Now, get back to your natural environment and don't let me catch you rummaging around here again, or so help me I will protect and relocate you so hard!"
>"Okay, Okay, I'm leaving."
>Ranger trails looks at you sheepishly and mouths 'I'm sorry'
>You walk away from the station.
"You're lucky I don't anesthetize you like Tim.  Little snot-grubber must've followed you around.  Almost made off with half our food.  You really should watch your post better, Ranger Running Trails."
>Fuck.  She found Tim.
>You keep walking.
>You hope Running Trails doesn't get chewed out too badly.  You feel guilty for tricking him like that.  You actually like the guy, even though he massively drugged not more than two days ago.
>You make your way back to the acacia tree.  Swindly Tim is laying at the base of the tree with a small red dart in his ass.
>His eyes are crossed and his face is frozen in an expression of pure nerve-locking bliss.
"Well that coulda gone less to shit."
Dumptruck was cleaning his tail.  He sat on top of well-stuffed looking bag.
>"I guess that was Open Sky."
"Yup.  Our esteemed Head Ranger Open Sky caught Tim raiding her personal cache.  Dumbass.  Nearly comprimised da whole operation."
>Dammit Tim.
"But hey."
>He reaches into the bag and tosses you a bottle.
>Applejack Daniels, 94% fucking proof.
>A single tear fell down your cheek.
"Don't say I never did nuffin' for ya."
>You pick up Tim, and the bag from the tree.  You give a quick glance at it's contents.  There's a few boxes and some small pocket books.  You'll give them a look over later.
>Dumptruck hops back onto your shoulder.
>You make your way back to the jungle. The sun is beginning to set.
>Today was a pretty decent day.