/mlp/AiE

>The sun streams in through a window and you toss a pillow over your face.
>You sigh contentedly.
>And then your cell phone alarm goes off.  Even after all this time, you still haven't chucked your worthless brick of a phone or bought a real alarm clock or flashlight.
>You grumble and reach over to shut it off, fumbling for the right buttons and knocking it to the floor.  The sound stops.
>Shit.
>You roll out of bed and drop to the floor to inspect the damage.
>The thing still looks functional.  Displaying the time like a boss, responding to buttons,
>...having two bars of signal?

>The fuck?

>Thinking it must be a mistake, you try to make a call.
>It doesn't go through.
>You try to send a text, and it doesn't go through.
>You crack open the ancient and decrepit web browser, and google loads.
>You immediately dive for your email to let people know you're alive, sweating profusely at the implications of cross-world communication and how famous you'll be.
>It fails to load.
>You check wikipedia.
>It's good!
>You scramble for a high-visibility page and edit in your plea for help, but are swiftly deleted as vandalism.
>You try for Facebook, but it fails.
>You pause for a moment.
>4chan.org
>...
>...
>Success.

>Fucking.
>Jackpot.

>Temporarily forgoing the sane options, you snap a picture of the view from your window and hop over to /mlp/.
>You post the image, along with "U jelly?" and smirk to yourself.
>Congratulations.  You are the cleverest and the best.
>You decide to make actual contact later, after you've planned out how to get rich off of this.
>For now, you'll just futz around here and there while you get your ducks in a row.
>You slip the phone into your pocket and head to Sugarcube Corner for some celebratory breakfast pastries.
>When you sit down at your table, you pull the phone out to snap a picture of your retardedly delicious food.

>Your thread is full of responses about having seen a few pixels.
>You shrug and post anew, this time jamming an upturned thumb into the shot.
>You proceed to devour the goods with great haste, then get up to go see what Dash is up to.

>She doesn't seem to be around.
>Lame.
>You snap some more pictures around town and even get a few ponies to take shots for you, posing triumphantly in a variety of locations.

>Every last image is shot down as "fake and gay".

>Shit, this might be harder than you thought.

>Two weeks later...

>You've given up.  You're relatively happy here, and 4chan is full of assholes, and wikipedia is full of anal fuckwits, and you're pretty sure the entire internet is just terrible.
>You're in the park tossing a ball back and forth with Dash.
>She throws a long one and you run for it, but you smack into a tree.
>You fall over and rub your head.

>Dash is already there, lending a hoof to help you up.
>She makes a confused face and looks down at your phone.
>A picture of Applejack's apple stall is showing.
>"What's this?"

>"Oh, nothing.  Just trying to convince some assholes I'm in Equestria."

>"And they don't believe the pictures?"

>"Nope."

>"...Huh."
>She carefully nudges the buttons with the edge of a hoof, trying to navigate somewhere, and winds up in an AiE thread.
>Her eyes scan the page for a minute.
>"Mind if I borrow this?"

>You give an exaggerated groan.
>"But then how will I wake up in the morning?"

>She rolls her eyes at you.

>You stick out your tongue.

>"So can I?"

>"Sure, I guess."

>Two weeks later...

>"So Anon, have you seen these AiE threads?"

>"Yeah, what about 'em?  There's some shitty wish fulfillment, a few grand epics, and way too much clop."

>"I kinda like some of this junk.  The idea that FLUTTERSHY, of all ponies, could actually be that aggressive... it's hilarious!"

>"Really?  Huh.  I dunno, I never really got into any of that.  If you say there's some good stuff in there, maybe I'll have to try.  Which authors don't suck?"

>She names a few and hands you the phone.
>Wow, look at that.  Pastebin works, and so do the archives.
>Convenient.

>You put it in your pocket and go about your day.
>That night, you push the cheap alarm clock you bought off of your bedside table and lovingly return your phone to its rightful place.
>You roll over to go to sleep, but pause.
>You decide to read a few of these supposedly good stories.

>You're surprised to find there's actually some decent stuff here.
>Most of the authors Dash recommended are pretty talented.
>But then you get to one of them that really rubs you the wrong way.
>Rustles your jimmies, you might say.

>Every story is the same damn thing.
>Dash has obvious romantic feelings for Anon, Anon's a stupid piece of shit, Dash eventually confesses, they make out, fade to black, cue credits.
>It's always SO BLATANT that nobody could possibly be as blind and stupid as Anon.
>You grumble a few more times, read something by a different author to cleanse your palate, and go to bed.

>You and Dash meet up in town, and Dash looks anxious about something.
>"So Anon, did you get a chance to read any of those stories?"

>"Yeah, I read quite a few, actually."

>She's starting to sweat a little.
>"Did you like any of them?"

>You nod.
>"Surprisingly, yeah.  Almost all of 'em."

>She looks excited.
>"Really?"

>"Pretty much everything except for one particular author.  I don't know what you see in their work."

>Her ears droop.
>"Oh... which one?"

>You pull out the phone and proceed to give her a lecture on why those stories are bad and the author should feel bad.

>She looks like she's got something in her eye and she hastily makes an excuse to be somewhere else.
>She flies off.

>The next day, she seems down.
>You try to strike up conversation, but she seems mostly lost in thought.
>Occasionally, you hear her mumble some part of what you said the other day.

>Eventually, Twilight finds out about your wonderphone and you lose it temporarily.  Again.
>You frown as you shove the alarm clock back into place.

>A few days after that, Twilight gathers the whole town with exciting news.
>She's managed to reproduce the internet connectivity of your phone in a convenient form that can be distributed to everyp0ny.
>The internet is PROBABLY going to destroy Equestria, but at least it'll be a hoot to watch.

>You keep an eye on /mlp/ and watch the ensuing shitstorm.
>The AiE thread is surprisingly quiet, but you do notice a few posts by that really shitty author.
>Somehow, they're getting even shittier.
>The Anon becomes ten times as oblivious, and you actually start compulsively hate-reading these stories, hoping he dies.
>Preferably in a fire.

>How could he do that to Dash?  She's awesome!
>You'd never do that.
>You'd like to say you'd never fuck a pony either, but hey - when in Rome...

>You start responding to these stories telling the author, in no uncertain terms, that they are a steaming pile of dicks and dead babies.
>The author calls you stupid.
>Not even cleverly, either.  Just flat "stupid" with no decoration.
>What a piece of shit.

>Oh look, another shitty story.
>This time it's about... huh.
>It's at least a unique premise.
>It's about an Anon who gets his internet back.
>And then Dash learns about AiE and starts secretly writing them, hoping that'll do the trick, but gog dizzamn this Anon is thickheaded.

>Let that sink in for a minute.
>You really are pretty freakin' thick, you know that?
>...

>Yes Anon, I'm talking to you.