Smile

>Be Anon.
>Be in the last stronghold of humanity.
>Though "weakhold" might be a better term at this point.
>You don't know how this started, but it's increasingly obvious how it's going to end.
>You try to get some sleep, knowing that it's probably the last time you sleep as a human.
>In the morning, always the morning, they strike again.
>And even in the night, you can barely sleep from the deafening row of the song of that detestable pink demon.
>You've fought so hard for the human race, but it's all coming to an end.
>Never mind now, though.  You are so frazzled and worn out that your hands are shaking as you put in your earplugs.
>You won't have it in you to do what needs to be done tomorrow if you don't get at least some sleep.
>Gritting your teeth, you close your eyes, determined to get any rest at all you can, cradling your AK like a lover.
>You wish you'd paid more attention to those guys in /k/ now, but you're pretty sure you can point and shoot, at least.
>You pull a meager blanket over your head and try to sleep.
>But your dreams are full of that song, over and over again.
>My name is Pinkie Pie
>And I am here to say
>I'm gonna make you smile
>And I will brighten up your day!

>You don't know how it started, but everyone knows where.
>An abandoned warehouse in Philadelphia, now renamed Fillydelphia, rented out to some company known appropriately enough as "Equus."
>One night, the building mysteriously caught fire, emitting a curious blend of smoke and vapor that came out in rainbow patterns.
>You saw it on the news that night.
>The firefighters and other first responders were the first to fall victim to the plague.
>You happened to be bored and stoned that night, and were watching local TV, your cable having been cancelled.
>Only reason you had it was Internet anyway and you were ripping that from your dumbass neighbor who used his cat's name for a password.
>The firefighters collapsed as the smoke hit them, immediately writhing and convulsing on the ground like a bag full of snakes as they transformed.
>First into a faceless doughy mass of horror and then, increasingly, into the form of brightly colored ponies.
>"Absolutely disgusting!" shouted a newscaster, before he too was consumed by the smoke and began transforming.
>This was just the beginning and it was mere days ago.
>It is now called the "Pony Plague."  Some people tried to come up with official names for it, but society collapsed too quickly for it to matter.
>So "Pony Plague" it is.  Wikipedia no longer exists, nor do the nerds and spergs who would otherwise battle out this issue to the death.
>(4chan collapsed early on, too, as did reddit and tumblr, but in a cruel irony, ponychan remains up.  Despite world events, only three people are posting to it, as usual.)
>That night, you grabbed your bugout bag and headed out of town at top speed in your decrepit Buick Regal.
>You'd seen The Walking Dead and other zombie movies and you knew how fast this shit was going to move.
>You got out just ahead of the traffic jam that effectively sealed Philadelphia, clogging both the inbound and outbound lanes.
>You knew you had to hunker down, but where?  You had bought yourself a few precious days, but how long?

>You had bought yourself a few precious days, but how long?
>You searched your mind for any friend or acquaintance who might have a safe haven.  You were drawing a blank until you remembered Uncle Carl.
>God, what a distasteful guy.  He was usually drunk and he was a neo-Nazi but he was the only guy you knew who had an arsenal and knew how to use it.
>He also had what was practically a fortified compound up in the hills around Carbondale, and hideouts all around the abandoned mining operations.
>If anyone would survive a zombie apocalypse, well, a pony apocalypse, it would be him.
>Of course, last time you saw him, he had called you a faggot because you liked a show about cartoon ponies.
>You'd tried to explain to him that you'd hated it ever since Lauren Faust left, but he wasn't buying it.
>"Get out of here, you queer," he said, throwing a glass of cheap whiskey in your face.
>Before you go see this guy, you thought, you should make sure that you weren't just overreacting to a weird news event.  Surely things like this don't happen, you thought.
>You flipped the radio on, and even your music station was already replaced with the familiar Emergency Broadcast System tone.
>Shit just got real.
>It was worse than you thought.  There had been similar explosions of warehouse facilities in virtually every major city on the planet.
>And the plague apparently traveled by mere proximity.  Get within a hundred feet or so of any pony and you are a pony yourself.
>This was the last detail you heard before the emergency announcer suddenly started gargling horribly into the microphone.
>In a couple minutes, he came back on, singing brightly:
>It doesn't matter now
>If you are sad or blue
>'Cause cheering up my friends is just what Pinkie's here to do


>With a feeling of sinking horror, you flipped through the channels, hearing one or two similar events as emergency announcers were suddenly ponified.
>To Carl's it is.  You had to get away from anywhere and everywhere, and he certainly knew how to do that.
>You put the pedal to the metal and at, about 100, sped through the Northeastern Pennsylvania night.
>You desperately hoped any incidental exposure to pony proximity as you sped by would not be sufficient to infect you, and it was in early morning, maybe around 4:00, that you finally hit the graded dirt road that led to Carl's.
>Jumping out of the car, you cut the lock with a bolt cutter in your trunk and opened the gate, replacing it with a lock of your own.
>A little further in, there was a second gate, this one with a Nazi flag on it, as well as a sign politely explaining "All niggers, Jews and feds will be shot."
>You stopped briefly to revise it, adding "And ponies" in black Sharpie.  You trusted Carl would understand.
>You laid on the horn loud and heavy.
>"You motherfucker, give me one reason I shouldn't shoot you!  You a fucking fed?"
>Good old Carl.
"Carl, this is Anon!  Shit has hit the fan, man!"
>"What the fuck are you talking about, you faggot?  Didn't I tell you to stay the fuck away from here?"
"Have you been watching the news, you drunk old Nazi cocksucker?  Let me in!  The shit you've been saying for years just happened!"
>"Well, I reckon I might," said Carl, turning to walk away.
"No, let me the fuck in, now!  We got to talk, immediately.  Or should we just yell at each other through this fucking gate all night?"
>Grumbling, Uncle Carl fumbled open the lock and let you in.
>You hoped there was still a television station broadcasting, less than six hours into the apocalypse.

"Do you see what I was talking about?" you asked, as Carl flipped through station after station, only to get color bars.
>At least he had satellite, so if there was anything in the world that was still working, he'd be able to locate it.
>Finally, he found the tail end of a news broadcast.  Well, it was news broadcasters, anyway, and they were on air.
>They were panicking and backing into the corner of some room in a broadcasting station, with a camera aimed at them.
>"Are we the last?" said a frightened looking gray-haired anchor, you assumed, to his co-anchor, a bleach blonde piece of eye candy.
>"Switch to the other feed if it's still up," said the anchor.
>The picture switched to what seemed to be an unaccompanied camera.  It was aimed at a mob scene in Philadelphia.
>It seemed to be aimed at those stairs that Rocky ran up during that training montage in the first Rocky.
>Ponies.  Ponies everywhere.  It was bedlam.  Bright blue, pink, white, yellow, orange, colors with and without names.
>Winged pegasi did barrel rolls over the city.  Unicorns were flipping objects around with magic from their horns.
>Earth ponies were dancing and cavorting around.  And again, that song.
>'Cause I love to make you smile, smile, smile.
>Yes I do.
>It fills my heart with sunshine all the while.
>Yes it does.
>'Cause all I really need's a smile, smile, smile.
>From these happy friends of mine.
>"What the fuck is this Jew faggotry?" exploded Carl.  "Hey, aren't these those ponies you jerk it to?"

>You considered explaining no, these ponies were the McCarthy version after it all went to shit, but decided no.
>This is no time for autism.
"Kind of, yes.  So I know something about them.  So you need me.  Because these fucking things are taking over the world now."
>Just at this time, some pony knocked over the camera, and the news channel switched back to the cowering news people.
>"Oh, no, they're getting in!  Shit!  What do we do now?"  "Oh, fuck!  Oh, fuck!  Oh. . ."
>The newscasters suddenly collapsed, turning into twitching masses of vile protoplasm, before reforming as ponies.
>"I guess that's all for tonight.  But maybe we'll be back bright and early in the morning!"
>A red pony replied:  "Eeeyup."  They then trotted off to join the vile, teeming hordes.
"So you see what we're up against, Carl?"
>"This is bad.  Worse than Jews even."
"You can see why I came out here?  You're the only one who can keep us away from these things."
>Suddenly, Carl eyed you suspiciously.  "You sure you don't got any of them faggot germs on you?"
"If I did, I'd already be one of those. . .things.  Just being near one turns you."
>"Then it'll have to be the shaft.  I'll see if I can round anyone up."
>Carl went over to his computer, where he had an irc client open connected to something, maybe Undernet.
>Shocked, he read back in the buffer to hear basically what we had just watched on TV.
>Many of the nicks on the channel had been chatting at high volume for hours, and then suddenly had fallen silent.
>Sometimes, a nick finished with something like kuijswed8i.  As if someone had been trying to type without proper hands.

>Carl snorted in disgust.  "Some of those were good guys," referring to the ones who had changed.
>"Well, no time for dicking around."  He sat down and lit a roach clipped in a pair of hemostats, and typed.
>"Okay, anyone who knows what I'm talking about, it's time to get to the Bat Cave.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, go fuck yourself."
>Over the course of a few minutes, about a half dozen chatters responded affirmatively.
>Carl told them to bring food, water purification tablets, and most importantly, guns, and to shoot anything with hooves.
>Also, he said, do not allow anyone to see you enter the location.
>Suddenly, a nick named HitlerDNW said:  "Hi!  Sorry slow, typing with pencils taped to hooves."
>"You shld rly give this pony thing a try!  It's awesome!"
>Within seconds, the nick was kicked and banned with the message (Die you Jew Horse!)
>Carl was done, and started packing supplies.  You made sure your bugout bag was still in order.
>You decided to check the Internet yourself one last time, in case anyone had anything useful to say.  Apparently not.
>4chan, down.  reddit, down.  Hey, you were desperate.  tumblr, the major news sites, then you started dredging the bottom of the barrel.
>Equestria Daily, Horse News, MLPforums, fimfic, finally ponychan.  Fuck, typical, that'd be up.  Nothing there, though.
>Not even the pony apocalypse could bring it back to life.  There was one AMA thread, ask a pony anything!
>Even the three fools there didn't buy it.  "lel, no hooves!"  And then OP stopped responding.  The last posts on the thread:
>mfw OP probably really is a pony now with a picture of Twilight.
>And
>tfw looks like I'll get to be the little mare after all.

>Done with the Internet for now, you looked to Carl, who was apparently finishing up his preparations.
"Umm, hey Carl.  Do you think I could have. . ."
>"A fucking gun, you faggot?  You'd goddamn well better be ready to use one."
>He handed you an AK-47, saying it sucked for reasons you didn't quite catch, but briefly explained its operation.
>"But if you're right, no way you can hit anything at the hundred foot distance you say turns you.  So for the likes of you, I'd say just aim in its general direction and lay down suppressive fire."
>"That means, just keep it from getting any closer.  It'd be a miracle if you hit anything.  Actually, don't do anything unless I tell you to."
>He handed you a pair of night vision goggles, and lowered the one on his own head down.
>Carl looked at you with disgust.  "Anyway, little sister, about time we get rolling," switching out the lights.
>You followed Carl as he walked out into his back yard and into the woods, on a barely visible trail.  You would take a couple steps, then pause and scan anything visible.
>Two legs, good.  Four legs, bad.
>Once you stepped on a stick and it cracked loudly.  Carl stopped immediately and surveyed the landscape.  Suddenly, from what you hoped was at least a couple hundred feet away, a voice sang out:
>I like to see you grin!
>I love to see you beam!
>The corners of your mouth turned up is always Pinkie's dream!
>But if you're kind of worried
>And your face has made a frown
>I'll work real hard and do my best to turn that sad frown upside down!
>During this, Carl looked down the scope of his rifle, his face taut with concentration.
>'Cause I love to make you grin, grin, grin!
>Yes I do!
>Bust it out from ear to ear let it begin.
>Just give me a joyful grin, grin, grin.
>Finally, Carl seemed to reach a decision.
>And you fill me with good cheer.
>A loud report rang out, ending the singing and, presumably, the singer.
>"Got the fucker," said Carl.

>The rest of the hike went uneventfully, and it was just after dawn that you reached the famous Bat Cave, where four other guys in fatigues and other survivalist garb waited.
>One of the guys said:  "Jack and Kenny didn't make it.  They turned and I had to, you know. . ."
>"Put 'em down," said Carl.  "That's how it's gonna have to be.  You did good, Todd."
>Todd seemed pleased by the compliment.  "I try to always do the right thing, you know that, Uncle Carl.  I even saved bullets by using that Gerber deboning knife you recommended.  Really did the trick.  Like cutting warm butter."
>Even Carl looked a bit nonplused.  "Well, yeah, thanks."
>"One thing," said Todd.  "Takes a bit to turn.  Because they turned right up close, and I finished them, and look, no hooves."  He showed his hands as if anyone doubted him.
>"And who else do we have," said Carl.  "Marvin, Bob and Driscoll.  Pleased to share the end of the world with you guys."
>One of the guys, you think Marvin, suddenly looked at you suspiciously.  "And who is this faggot?"
>Carl said "that's my nephew Anon."
>Bob said "He looks kind of Jewish."
>Carl suddenly slapped Bob right in the face.  "Are you accusing my brother of fucking a kike?"
>"Umm, no," said Bob.
>Carl laughed.  "Just kidding.  I didn't think you'd say something like that."
>Bob gave you a look as if to say this wasn't over.
>"Okay, let's get out of sight," said Carl and, looking around, brushed the dirt off what looked like a heavy blast door.  The five men struggled with it briefly before pulling it up and propping it open with a metal bar.
>You all entered the shelter, bringing your supplies with you, and closed the door behind you.

>On an inventory, you have thousands of rounds of ammunition, at least 30 guns of various kinds, including an M60 machine-gun, with tripod, shotguns, rifles, handguns and grenades.
>Also, you had easily a month's worth of food even eating normally.
>Assuming you had a supply of any kind of water and needed it, you had virtually an unlimited amount of water purification tablets.
>As well as medical supplies, including pharmaceutical drugs as well as a healthy supply of antibiotics and no small amount of methamphetamine, you're sure just for those long night watches.
>It wasn't supplies you were worried about, though.
>As remote as the location was, someone, some pony, could always wander by, and their pony radiation could transform you even in your sleep.
"Okay, listen up, you people."
>Everyone was startled by your sudden speech after you had silently endured their abuse since you'd met.
"These ponies are going to try to convert us.  If you see any one of them, they will try to get close enough for their powers to work.  That, or go back to tell the rest.  At that point, you'll see more ponies here."
"So the only option, really, is to shoot them on sight.  Do not let them anywhere near us, and if they get close enough to see, they must be eliminated."

>Marvin looked skeptical.  "So Carl, how does this faggot know so much?"
>"Marvin, you remember that nephew I told you about?  That particular nephew?" said Carl.
>"You mean the one that. . .you mean these are THOSE ponies?  Is this shit his fault somehow?"
>Carl said "No, of course not.  He was brainwashed by the media Jews.  He's over that now, but he studied these fucking things.  So shut up and listen to him."
"Well, okay, these ponies have a philosophy they call 'friendship' and it basically means they share and share alike, always stick together, that kind of thing."
>Todd nodded thoughtfully.  "So, basically, they're Communists is what you're saying?"
"Close enough.  Anyway, there are three kinds.  Unicorns, those have those horns, they can do magic.  Pick things up, throw them around, that kind of thing."
"Most of them are pretty harmless, but a few are really powerful.  They can do time travel, age spells, turn you into a baby or whatever, blow up things."
"Then there are pegasi.  They're the ones with wings.  They can fly, but they can also move around clouds, make it rain, do weather stuff."
"Then there are earth ponies.  They're the normal ones.  They, well. . ."
>What exactly did earth ponies do, anyway?
"Well, earth ponies.  They, I guess they can kick trees really hard."

"Anyway," you explain, we have to prioritize targets.  If you see a horn, take that one out first.  Then pegasi, especially if they're flying into range."
"Finally, the rest of them, the mud pones.  If you have more than one target, only take those out if they get close enough to start turning you."
>Todd said "You can sort of feel it.  You feel like putting your gun down, not cutting someone with a knife."  He shuddered.  "Absolutely disgusting."
"Okay, so you'll know if they're close enough.  Any pone close enough to feel, take them out."
>Carl nodded.  "I think my nephew put it pretty much right.  Consider that rules of engagement.  Other rules of engagement, no mercy."
"Also, whatever you do, don't let any pone that has seen this place get out alive.  They'll just warn the others and soon we'll be up to our ears in happiness and smiles and shit."
>Carl said "Along those lines, try to stick to the scoped rifles.  A single shot might not give our location away.  Prolonged bursts, though, give them time to listen."
"Also, they might have better hearing than humans.  I'm not sure about that, but it seems possible.  Or some way of using magic to detect humans.  If we're lucky, all this metal around us might act as some kind of shield."
>"So that would mean if we're outside, we're in worse shape?" asked Marvin.
"I'm not sure that's true, but it seems to be in some other worlds with magic."
>"How would you know about that, Anon?" asked Todd.
"It's just speculation, but these games and stories are based on legend, and the whole metal/magic thing shows up a lot.  So give it a thought."
>Suddenly, you felt an intrusive presence in your mind, telling you everything was going to be all right.  A smell of wildflowers filled your thoughts, and --
>Todd shouted "It's one of them!"
>A voice sang out:
>It's true some days are dark and lonely
>And maybe you feel sad.
>But Pinkie will be there to show you that it isn't that bad.

>You struggled to resist the thoughts, thinking instead of murder and gore and deformed babies, reaching for the AK.
>Carl said "Don't shoot that unless I say.  Okay, let's go topside and get that thing pronto."
>Carl and the others shoot up the ladder, with you following behind.
>Coming out into the light, you see a blue unicorn with a blonde mane, about a hundred feet away but closing the distance, trotting along singing happily:
>There's one thing that makes me happy and makes my whole life worthwhile
>And that's when I talk to my friends and get them to smile!
>As one, Carl and the four others triangulate on the unicorn, who suddenly notices them:
>"Hi there, new friends!" chirps the unicorn.  "My name's Sapphire --"
>Five shots ring out simultaneously, splattering the unicorn's brains in all directions.
>Carl directs the other four to drag the corpse away and drapes a tarp over it, hiding it enough to withstand casual scrutiny.
>"Okay, looks like we'll have to come up here from time to time.  Pick a position."
>Various pieces of abandoned heavy mining equipment provided cover and, perhaps, you hoped, some kind of magic shielding if you were out in the open.
>"Okay, you," said Carl to you.  "I don't want you behind me with a gun.  Not that I don't trust you, just that I don't trust you not to shoot me on accident.  You take up the front until they get close, then just get underground."
>"Only spray and pray if I tell you."
>"Now, you, Driscoll.  On top of the crane.  You're a good sniper.  And you, Marvin, stay here next to the blast door.  Todd, you and me will take out any high priority targets Driscoll misses.  And Bob, you're on the M60.  If we have to retreat, cover us."
>"We'll need a lookout up here 24/7.  We'll all take turns on that.  Well, everyone except Anon, we need someone who can shoot."
>You didn't appreciate the commentary, but at least they were calling you Anon and not "faggot" now.


>You suppose there could have been better plans, but it was reasonably good.  Better than those idiots on The Walking Dead, anyway.
>"Now," Carl said.  "Those of you familiar with the layout of the Bat Cave here already know this," nodding at Todd, "but we have a backup plan, too.  Todd, you have first watch, while I show them the escape route."
>Todd nodded, heading up the ladder to the crane with his rifle and binoculars.
>You all retreated down the ladder into the shelter, leaving the door open.  You had to be able to get in and out quickly, and if ponies made it that far, you were doomed anyway.  No point securing it.
>Back in the Bat Cave, Carl pulled down a Nazi flag from the wall, folding it respectfully, which led to a small wooden door.  Behind that door was an unfinished dirt room.
>Carl brushed away some of the earth on the floor with a shovel, revealing another crude door, opening it to reveal another ladder leading down.
>"Follow me."  Carl handed out miner's helmets with flashlights on the front.  "Don't waste batteries," he said, turning his own on.
>You all clambered down after him into the darkness.
>After what you'd guess was about a hundred foot climb downward, you reached the bottom.
>"This," said Carl, "is the old mine.  To get out, follow the breeze.  Also, usually the way out slopes up a bit."
>Now that he mentioned it, you could feel a faint wind, blowing in a direction where the shaft seemed to be heading upward.
>Suddenly, there was a low rumbling, and dust dropped from the ceiling.
>Carl commented "yeah, and don't hang around here too long.  It isn't stable."

>The days after that passed mostly uneventfully.  Occasionally, an earth pony or unicorn would wander by close enough to need to be shot, or a pegasus would fly over.
>Todd had designed camouflage for the sniper nest, though, and if they didn't get close enough and didn't see anything, you just let them pass.  Even a single gunshot was too much to risk unless necessary.
>To pass the time, you messed with Carl's shortwave radio, trying to find something, anything, that let you know there were still humans out there.
>For days, you scanned every likely frequency.  Except for some unmanned satellites, though, you heard nothing but static and atmospheric crackling and whistling.
>Until one day, when you suddenly heard English.
>"This is Radio Free Equestria, broadcasting from sunny Fillydelphia!  We hope everypony out there is having an absolutely wonderiffic day!  First, the news!"
>"Everything is absolutely peachy keen!  That's a joke, my name is Peachy Keen!  But it's true"
>"Absolutely nothing is going wrong anywhere!  The sun is out, the only clouds are pretty and puffy!  Aren't puffy clouds your favorite, Cotton Candy?"
>"Oh, definitely, Peachy Keen!  My favoritest favorites of all!" said another pony, you assumed Cotton Candy.


>"But on a more serious note," said Peachy Keen, suddenly trying, poorly, to put on a serious voice, but still giggling every other word.
>"There are some grumpy, mean, grumpy grumpy pantses out there who are still not ponies!"
>"Can you believe it?" exclaimed Cotton Candy.  "What are we going to do about this?"
>"Well, we'll first say, to any of you grumps out there, quit it!  Seriously!  Resistance is, well, resistance is. . ." Peachy Keen trailed off.
>"Not very much fun!" filled in Cotton Candy.
>"Yes, that!  Not very much fun at all!  Resistance is not very much fun.  You will be. . .well, turned into ponies, I guess."
>"Anyway, my little ponies," continued Peachy Keen, "some of these grumps have GUNS."
>"Guns!  Oh no!" said Cotton Candy.
>"So if you find a nest of these grumps, don't go up to them.  They're very grumpy," said Peachy Keen.
>"And mean!" said Cotton Candy.
>"Right," continued Peachy Keen.  "Just immediately gallop to your nearest Pinkie Police station and report it.  They'll take it from there."
>"Awesome!" said Cotton Candy.  "And now to music.  Here's an old classic from Stinky Wizzleteats, the Happy Happy Joy Joy song!"
>The song started with some commentary:  "Hello, boys and girls. This is your old pal, Stinky Wizzleteats. This is a song about a whale. No! This is a song about being happy!"
>Carl aimed his Glock at the radio disgustedly, causing you to leap back.  "Nah, might need this thing."  He turned it off.
"Okay, this means that we need to be a lot more diligent to shoot any pony that wanders by immediately."
>Suddenly, everyone turned toward you, reaching for their guns.
"ANY PONY.  ANY PONY.  Two words, not one!"
>They relaxed.

>A few more days passed.  You were almost getting used to this routine.
>Todd seemed to be positively enjoying himself, and had put together a collection of about a dozen unicorn horns.  One day, he even put a half dozen of his favorites on a necklace.
>But then, one day, it happened.  The fatal error.  And it was Carl, of all people, who did it.
>You were all topside, for a change, because some heavy metal objects needed to be moved to make barricades and cover, while remaining inconspicuous.
>Carl was in the sniper nest supervising operations and keeping watch.
>Suddenly Carl hissed, while the rest of you were wrangling a boxcar.  You all froze.
>Your eyes tracked to where Carl was looking, where you saw her.
>A tiny white unicorn filly, with a light purple mane with rose stripes.
>Her head down, she quietly munched pink clover flowers.
>Suddenly startled, she looked up and directly at you.  Her eyes widened and dilated, so that even at a distance, you could see her pale green irises.
"Carl, are you gonna. . ."
>You looked up at Carl, who was taking careful aim through his scope.  But his face looked conflicted, and while his finger was on the trigger, his knuckles were white.
>Todd, noticing Carl's turmoil, drew his revolver without hesitation, aimed and immediately fired.
>Into thin air.  The little white unicorn had vanished.
>"What the fuck was that, Carl?" shouted Todd.
>Carl sat, vacantly, staring into space.  "I just. . ."
"You just what?" you exclaimed.
>Carl finished "I couldn't do it.  She was just a kid."
>Oh, great.  Of all the people to go soft, it would have to be the big bad Nazi, wouldn't it?

>The import of what had just happened sank in.  The ponies now knew where you are, even if they didn't have a grasp of your fortifications.
>Carl was babbling.  His mind had clearly snapped.  "So cute. . .so beautiful. . .so. . .white.  How could I shoot that?"
"Carl, Carl!  Pull yourself together!  We have things to do, as in now!"
>Carl suddenly stood up in the sniper nest, and drew his revolver.
>"Verzeihen Sie mir, mein Führer!  Ich habe versagt!" he shrieked.
>Then he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
>A spray of blood and brain matter shot from Carl's head.  He stood and swayed on the sniper's nest a moment, before pitching and tumbling to the ground with a loud thump.
>You and Todd stood and watched the others milling around aimlessly in a panic.  Feeling the need to take charge, you shouted:
"We're bugging out!  This location is blown.  Get all the supplies we can and let's bolt now!"
>What happened next was so sudden that you realized that little bitch of a unicorn must have been an advance scout for a party already on the way.
>Before you even saw the enemy, Marvin, Bob and Driscoll had dropped to the ground, their forms twisting and changing.
>Todd grinned, rather inappropriately you thought, and emptied a clip into the three of them, shooting in the general location where their heads might be until they stopped moving.
>Suddenly, with a loud boom, a blue pegasus with a rainbow mane appeared, with a rainbow trailing behind her.  Et tu, Rainbow Dash?
>Instantly afterward, several more pegasi landed, and a semicircle of unicorns surrounded you, with the hill and the mining facility to your back.
>Behind them were a contingent of earth ponies providing musical backup.
>I really am so happy.
>Your smile fills me with glee.
>I give a smile I get a smile.
>And that's so special to me.

>You sprinted to the ladder, reaching it just ahead of Todd.
>In a state of pure adrenaline, you both managed to pull the blast door shut and secure it, an instant ahead of the rainbow-maned monster.
>For the moment, it seemed to be holding, though you could hear a faint thumping as the ponies attempted to open it.  It was only a matter of time.
>You could feel the mental influence of the ponies outside growing stronger.  You assumed the unicorns were gathering and focusing it.
>Todd looked disgusted, but his psychopathic mind appeared to be unusually resistant to such influence.
>You were getting a little worried about yourself, but shouted "Kill the motherfuckers!" as much to convince yourself as to convince Todd.
>You set about silently gathering a small pack full of the most critical supplies, and Todd did the same.  You had been forced to abandon most of the weapons topside.
>It hardly mattered, though, as there were now only two of you.  You would not likely live long enough to run out of bullets, anyway.
>You headed down the ladder to the old mine, Todd right behind you, turning on your helmet lamps.  You wouldn't need them long, you hoped.
>You reached the bottom and, feeling the wind, headed up the shaft.  Walking at a brisk pace, you kept moving.

>Suddenly, though, directly ahead of you, you saw a pink radiance taking form.
"Stop!" you shouted.
>You heard a familiar deep rumbling, as the field of unicorn magic grew brighter and then contracted.
"RUN!"
>You turned and fled as the passageway collapsed behind you.  It was now completely blocked.
"We have to defend the ladder.  They're going to come in that way, probably.  But at least they can only come one at a time and we can take them."
>Todd nodded silently.
>The ponies had apparently given up, for the moment, on opening the blast door.  However, they had somehow induced it to become a loudspeaker.
>'Cause I love to see you beam, beam, beam.
>Yes I do
>Tell me what more can I say
>To make you see
>That I do.
>It makes me happy when you beam, beam, beam.
>Yes it always makes my day.

>And that is why you are now hunkered down in an abandoned mine with only a dead-eyed sociopath for company, waiting for the inevitable end.
>Of course, they eventually got the blast door open with their infernal magic, but that hasn't stopped you from defending the shelter.
>Several ponies lie at the bottom of the ladder, having been foolish enough to peer down as you defended it.  You are now pretty good at defending it, even if you feel like the worst kind of camper.
>Hey, if they weren't totally zerging, you wouldn't have to do this.
>Usually you stay at the bottom in the mine, only venturing upstairs for supplies.  Despite having it open, the ponies don't try to occupy it.  You think the fact that you occasionally lob a grenade up there when you hear motion has something to do with it.
>The ponies didn't seem to be in any huge rush.  Why would they need to be?  You have absolutely no escape route and are completely surrounded.
>You brought down the ham radio along with an extension cord and a cord to the outside antenna, and you listen to it from time to time during the day when Todd is on watch.
>You rather like the Vinyl Scratch Hour, and increasingly, find the voices of Peachy Keen and Cotton Candy soothing, reassuring, even if they are perhaps the most useless newscasters in history.
>Over your morning coffee this morning, though, while Todd aims his gun up the ladder, waiting whatever new morning assault they have, you hear something fall behind you.
>The rockfall is shifting.  You gesture to Todd, and you watch as pink radiance begins shifting the rocks, slowly dismantling the barrier.
>Behind it is the end.
>Not just one, or two, or dozens, but what look like hundreds of identical Pinkie Pies, bouncing up and down squeaking "FUN!  FUN!  FUN!  FUN!  FUN!"
>You and Todd grab what you can and head up the ladder as they charge.

>Wordlessly, you and Todd take up position on the two ladders, you taking the one from above while Todd holds off the horde of Pinkie Pies from below.
"They must have installed a Mirror Pond here," you say, forlornly.  "I didn't know they could do that."
>"What?"
"It's a magical pool that lets you make copies of yourself, and copies of the copies, just pretty much however many copies you want.  They're basically retarded, though."
>"Well, good," says Todd.  "I always wanted to kill a bunch of retards."  With that, he pulls the pin on a grenade and throws it down the hole.
>Seeing a red earth pony climbing down the ladder, you fire a quick burst up the ladder, hitting him on the flank.  The rest rapidly pull him up again and they back up.
>Todd looks gleeful as his grenade detonates, sending a reverberating thud up the hole and into the room, deafening you slightly.
>You can hold them off indefinitely, you think, well, at least if you could hold off the increasingly powerful mental influence of the ponies.
>It was now a nearly constant effort not to smile or even just climb up the ladder into the sunlight, no, stop thinking that.
>You are going to die like a rat in a hole.  Why?  No.  If Todd knew you were thinking this, he'd shoot you.  He can hold off these thoughts forever.
>That means you're going to turn first.  He's going to kill you.  You're going to die, shot by this dirtbag.
>Suddenly, it's clear what you have to do if you want to live.
>Todd has his back to you.  This is your only chance.
>Walking over to him as he shoots down the hole, you put what used to be Carl's Glock to the back of his head and pull the trigger.

>With a sigh, you lay back against the wall, turning up the radio and listening to Peachy Keen read the "news."
>"And it's another wonderrific day here in sunny Fillydelphia!  Just like always!  Nothing wrong at all!"
>You listened, amused, as the cheery exclamation point at the end of each of his sentences was almost visible in the air.
>"And we're almost done mopping up the last few grumpy nests.  Isn't that just awesome, Cotton Candy?"
>"You betcha, Peachy Keen!"
>It isn't long before the ponies realize you aren't shooting any more.  A flood of Pinkie Pies bounce up one ladder while a line of unicorns come down the other.
>You smile at them, and the last of your mental barriers comes crashing down as you lose consciousness.
>You come to what seems like an instant later, looking down at lime green fetlocks with hooves at the end.  Suddenly looking up, you see yourself surrounded by bouncing Pinkie Pies and unicorns.
>"Careful with that horn," one of them says.  "You might put someone's eye out with that."
>A tiny white unicorn suddenly approaches you and, out of nowhere, throws her forelegs around you and nearly crushes you in a hug.
>"Thanks mister!  I finally got my cutie mark thanks to you!"  You see tears in her eyes, though.  "Sorry about your friends, though."
>You try to feel sad.  For all you know, you were the last human alive.  But you remember the lyrics to a song, and realize it isn't that bad!
>It is a beautiful sunny day, and there are ponies to make happy!  As you make your way to the top of the ladder into the sunlight, you have an idea.

"I know!  Let's sing a song!"

Come on everypony smile, smile, smile.
Fill my heart up with sunshine, sunshine.
All I really need's a smile, smile, smile.
From these happy friends of mine.

FIN