I think it’s time for bed…
*The pulsing and the beams continue. Interspaced in both words start to form, just at the edge of the Avenger’s consciousness.*
DANCE THE PONY POKEY.
DANCE THE PONY POKEY.
DO IT.
DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT.
Yes, it would.
Can We call on you for Our next event?
Our condolences.
What was their name? Maybe We’ve heard of them.
Very well. We would like to see what you can do.
Anytime you wish, you may borrow Our kitchen facilities.
*Nightmare Moon presses a button on a remote control, and the Avenger’s retinas are bombarded with charged particle beams. A deep throbbing infrasonic wave pulses through her skull. Together, they bring on a vivid, psychedelic hallucination.*
As you should know, We don’t age.
We do, however, engage in a preventative regimen including honey baths and protein treatments for Our coat. Admittedly, in these modern nights We’ve been using artificial protein treatments. Our observations of modern pony society have indicated that the nights when royalty could literally bathe in blood (or other ‘all natural pony derived fluids’) are sadly passed.
((ooc: LIES!!!!!!!!
Flutterponies were worst ponies. I had one when I was little, and the plastic bits supporting the wings snapped right off after about a week.))
((What do you mean “when you were a kid” :P ))((ooc: I’m all grown up now.
So there! *nyah*))
((Admit it, you still have them, just like I have my old toys. The awesome ones. :3 ))
((ooc: I still have all my awesome old toys, including some G1 ponies.
Flutterponies have never qualified as awesome.))