A little bit closer to heaven

>All that you have heard
>The media, the hype, the endless array of pointlessly tacky gifts.
>A kingdom destroyed by a cataclysm
>Giant monsters running amok across the earth
>The power of the love wielded by the hoof of ponies
>All of it
>All of it is a lie
>Created in a boardroom somewhere to try and sell red crate paper
>And fill another month with a flat holiday
>These ponies just didn't understand, the majesty of what they were truly trying to celebrate
>How could they know?
>A celebration of such magnitude from your homeland, so much more than any heart covered trash they have here
>So many things that this world just lacks
>But that does not matter, certain rituals must still be followed even if you cannot do so properly
>When you lack the proper tools for a job, improvise and adapt
>And today you are going to adapt, the tools are prepared, the places set, there is only one thing missing.
>You look down at the empty picture frame, your hand gently caressing the translucent glass
>Yes, a picture of your waifu will complete this day and its rituals

>However your waifu and best girl does not exist in this place
>Adaptability that is the watch word of this day
>Armed with a trusty camera you found in a tree house in the woods and a lifetime of old fashioned stalking experience you will find a replacement
>However all the ponies are being much more skittish than usual, that or they're moving in groups of two
>Highly tactical of them, avoiding your deadly lens by making sure you can't get a clean shot
>No Photoshop here to crop unwanted guests out of pictures and replace with anything you could desire.
>The problem was that there were simply no single ponies around
>Your cooked ramen with ketchup would hold for a while, but not forever
>You had to move fast, at some point in the future lives might be at stake
>After almost sighting Derpy you decide to take a break
>Turned out just to be a cloud, you needed to rethink this.
>Hell even that Piccolo dragon was out and about on a day like this
>That was it!
>Purple Autism was bound to be alone in that stupid tree of hers
>Sneak in, a quick shot with the camera, then back home and wait for all this to just blow over.

>The tree was quiet, a deathly quiet of a place lost to the joys of time and life
>A rich scent of bark and damp filled your nostrils as you tread ever closer to the doorway
>Glancing left and right you see no onlookers, no one who would be watching this surreptitious approach
>Steeling yourself for the trials to come, you reach a clammy hand towards the door
>It opens but only slightly, your pulse quickens with excitement as your other hand toys with the camera
>You dare not push further for who knows what kind of devious trap could lie in wait beyond here
>Taking a deep breath you do your best to flatten yourself squeezing through the partially opened doorway
>The hard jam of the wooden doorframe presses into you as you slide inch by inch through the portal
>Behind the door you can see a pile of books stacked behind it, no minor inconvenience this would reach your knee at least.
>Golden bells lay scattered atop the pile, no doubt as an early warning against whoever would enter this den of inequity without forewarning
>As you finish sliding through the doorway you breathe a sigh of relief, step one is complete now it is time to discover what would require such security.
>Closing the door gently you look around to make sure you won’t hit any more tripwires.
>To your eyes at least this hasty arrangement of books and bells are the only things that would bar your path.
>You can't help but wonder where she got these things from, probably some terrible winter decoration that had outlived its usefulness

>Creeping forwards, stale books fill your senses from all sides.
>There are no lights here; only the timid light of the sun dares penetrate this sordid lair.
>Thankfully this place is no grand mansion and in no time at all you can dismiss the idea that anyone is on this floor
>With the area secured you are left two options up towards where she sleeps or down into the cellar.
>A decision which is easily made for you as you keen eyes can make out the tell tale traces of light around the door
>Someone is down there, someone who doesn't want to be disturbed and you would bet good rape dollars it's Twilight.
>The door is unassuming in its form, simple wooden planks arrayed in a vertical manner with a latch holding it closed
>You can hear whispers, quiet, broken but they are there.
>Inching closer you press your ear to the door, the wood feels strangely warm to the touch
>"-oh but --- even touched your-"
>Parts of it seem garbled, like she is holding something in her mouth.
>Strange, however this mystery must be solved
>Pressing your hand to the metal latch, you open the portal

>To your surprise the stairs here are stone, cold and unyielding.
>A stark contrast to the warm air of this darkened passage into the earth.
>With an unsteady breath you begin your descent into the very maw of the abyss
>That voice is here too, louder now and while it is still muffled beyond your ability to understand you can tell it belongs to Twilight
>The air is thick with an array of coos and groans sounding agreement.
>"-there, now doesn't that taste good? Mmm, I know it tastes good, I followed the recipe exactly like it said in the book!"
>She continues to make bizarre noises as you run out of steps finally reaching the room proper.
>You can see her now, Twilight Sparkle, her back turned to you, hunched over some table with some form of illumination radiating out from beyond her form.
>With sweaty palms you grasp your camera, legs tense to the point of shaking as you run your tongue over dry lips.
>A quick snap, maybe two then run for the exit, with the plan in mind you prepare your finger on the trigger.
>Springing into action you dash to the side, circling Twilight with your camera held to the ready
>As you round on her some details quickly become apparent, the table is set for a romantic dinner, red cloth, candles the works
>She's holding what looks to be a metal fork in her mouth, covered in -are those noodles?
>You can't help but feel as if you are stepping into a realm best left unexplored but the dye is cast, there is no turning back now.
>Twilight turns to face you, spaghetti flying everywhere as she wheels around as quickly as she can, her horn flaring into life as she does so
>Slimy strands fall from your face leaving red smears where they hit but you pay them no mind this is do or die
>"Wha-!" Twilight screams, but it's too late now, all is in place, and you press your finger to the trigger.
>Then you see it, in the briefest of split seconds you see it, you had no idea that this could even happen
>The picture on the table, the one she was holding the fork of spaghetti to and cooing over so lovingly
>It is a picture of you
>The flash was an exclamation of everything that had led up to this point
>Spaghetti flying through the ragged air, Twilights expression caught somewhere between horror, anger and on some level excitement.
>You released your finger from the trigger.