https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8S2hCUVisg
>It's hard to describe an opioid to someone who has never done one.
>Imagine the most comfortable you've ever been, then triple it.
>That's a decent estimation.
>The day after, your own skin feels scratchy and uncomfortable to live in.
>One can see how the habit forms.
>I don't really blame myself.
>Men are nothing more than genetics and environment, after all.
>And with my environment, and my genetics?
>At least I was functioning.
>I open the door to my apartment.
>Stripping to my underwear, I lie on the floor with my laptop.
>https://4chan.org/mlp/Lyra
>A quality mare for a quality gentleman.
>Good thing I picked up yesterday.
>Stash was getting low.
>I pack my opium pipe.
>https://youtu.be/38OcbxhybQE
>Tunes:Pumping.
>Pipe:Smoking.
>Lyra:SMOKING.
>Me:Happy.
>I lean back into my escapism, entering my favorite fantasy.
>It plays out the same every time I imagine it.
>I'm laying on my back, in a void.
>My eyes are shut, but I don't think I would see anything even if they were open.
>The ground is cold.
>After a few minutes I hear hoof-steps approaching me.
>It's Lyra.
>She sniffs my body from my toes to my head, before settling on a favorite spot.
>The body part is different every time.
>This go, it's my neck.
"Look, oats!"
>"No Lyra, It's not oats!" I want to scream.
>Much like my eyes, my mouth is useless here.
>She leans down and takes the first bite.
>The bite is clean.
>It feels more like I am made of cake then meat and blood.
>I want to sit up, and shake her until she stops.
>I want to moan, and gasp, and scream.
>It hurts.
>Lyra takes her time.
>Bite by bite.
>A short time passes and more ponies approach.
>These ones are faceless, unlike Lyra.
>I am consumed from all directions.
>The pain is endless.
>It's wonderful.
"Hey?"
>This was wrong.
>There shouldn't be any voices.
"What the hell happened to you?"
>Something was interrupting your ecstasy.
>You open your eyes.
...
>Sunlight.
>Sunlight hurts.
>You are no longer in your apartment.
>More importantly, you were coming down.
>And sooner than usual.
>Your eyes adjust to your surroundings.
>OH SHIT
>A 6 foot tall, half-cat, half-bird creature is looking at you.
>Nothing like a massive predator to get the old juicer pumpin'.
>You instinctively scramble back a few feet.
"What, you scared of me, small fry?"
>Talking. 
>It was talking.
>Talking means not going to eat you (hopefully).
>You slow your breathing.
>As you do, you recognize what you're seeing.
>It's Gilda.
>Gilda, from my little pony.
>The cartoon.
"Cat got your tongue? Snrk."
>"I'm, uh- where am I?"
"What, you hit your head or something?"
>After seeing your expression, she gives you an actual answer.
"Griffonstone."
>Well, that confirmed it.
>You look up at the sky.
>"Wow."
"Oh, by the way. What the fuck are you?"
>You look back at Gilda.
>"Human."
"Never heard of it."
>"I'm far away from the homeland."
"Why ya here then?"
>"Last thing I remember was being in my apartment."
>Gilda narrows her eyes.
"Musta been pony shenaniganry."
>"Sounds about right."
>You had your own suspicious about that one.
>Something something "I wish to travel to Equestria" something.
>Gilda glances at the sun.
"Anyway, you alright? I really should be going."
>"Fine, just fine. You happen to know where Ponyville is?"
"Ugh, I wish I didn't."
>She points her claw off the face of the mountain.
"Thataways."
>"Thanks."
"Yeah, no problem. You need a lift down the mountain? It's not out of my way."
>"I think I'll be alright."
"Alright then. See ya, human."
>"Bye."
...
>Be retarded.
>You fully regret not taking Gilda up on her offer.
>Damn misplaced sense of bravado and wonder.
>It's beginning to become night, and you're wearing nothing but your underwear.
>You've only made it halfway down the mountain to boot.
>For the last 20 minutes or so you've been looking for any form of shelter.
>Shit though, in this weather you'll get frostbite either way.
>You opt to continue down the mountain.
>...
>His palms are blistered.
>Feet raw.
>Legs' not ready.
>There's vomit on his sweater already: Mom's spaghetti.
>He's nervous.
>But on the surface he's not calm he's sweaty.
>The climb down.
>But he keeps almost slippin'.
>If he fell down, certain death: not the best.
>He opens his mouth, his raspy breaths come out.
>He's choking, how? And his bodies failin' now.
>The clock's run out, time's up, over, blaow!
>Snap back to reality, ope there goes gravity, ope.
>There goes Anon, he choked, he's so mad but he won't.
>Give up that easy, no, he won't have it, he knows.
>His whole back's to these ropes, it don't matter, he's dope.
>He knows that but he's broke, he's so stagnant, he knows.
>...
>You've made it.
>Sure, you fell the last 10 feet.
>Su re, your ankle is very possible sprained.
>Sure, you're miles from civilization with no survival skills or resources.
>But you do have one card still in your sleeve.
>Or rather, In the undies.
>You pull an opium pipe and small stash.
>For emergencies only.
>Lovingly taped to your groin each morning.
>You'd have to conserve.
>You doubt horse land has any of the good stuff at all.
>Withdrawal probably wouldn't kill you, but would be one son of a bitch.
>You toke a modest amount.
>Heh, great, ankle don't hurt no more.
>Time to keep walking.
>Step after step, Anon.
>Step after step.
>...
>Three days.
>Without food.
>Thank god for the river you've found and since been following.
>You estimate to be somewhere in the Everfree forest.
>Thank god for the Equestrian-Griffonstone land bridge.
>You were damn close to your goal.
>Lyra, that damn sexy mare.
>Hrng.
>You ran out of that delicious black goo™ last night.
>You've had a rough cough ever since the mountain.
>However, you've stumbled across a certain hut in the woods.
>"Zecora, I bet she would help me."
"Oh, how curious, a new creature I see. Stranger, even, that he seems to know me"
>Well shit.
>She was behind you.
"I see you are hungry, so come after me. I'll make a soup to provide what you need."
>"Thank you."
>With a weak smile you follow Zecora.
>You sit and watch as she mixes various ingredients into a stew.
>As you demolish the bowl she hands you, she speaks.
"Where, creature, did you hear my name? I don't believe I'm a zebra of fame,"
>Brain, it's lyin' time.
>"Gilda. A griffon named Gilda mentioned you. It was a lucky guess really."
>She looks at you with suspicion.
"I will not press you, but pay heed here. The last zigga who lied was impaled by my spear."
>You really hope that isn't a euphemism.
>You spend a short time with Zecora before she bandages your wounds and you bid her goodbye.
>As thanks, you gave her your opium pipe. Not like you would be needing it.
>Sun high in the sky, headache pounding in your head, you begin the final steps toward Ponyville.
>...
>It's hard to describe Ponyville to someone who has never been there.
>Imagine the most beautiful village you've ever seen, then triple it's beauty.
>Or maybe that perceived beauty was simply because of how hard it was to get here.
>You walk into town.
>Ponies stand still and gawk when they see you.
>A few skittish ones run away on sight.
>You ignore all of them.
>A confused twilight sparkle is trying to capture your attention.
>BackgroundPonies.Rannoying
>And then you see her.
>The point of this entire brain-dead journey.
>She was walking into a house.
>You follow her, slamming the door open.
>She jumps a foot into the air and stares wide eyed at you.
>You lie on the floor, eyes closed.
>This was it.
>Everything you had fantasized. 
>It was about to happen.
>The floor is cold.
>After a few minutes you hear a pony talking.
"Umm, what are you doing?"
>"I'm ready."
>...
>...
"Ready?"
>You crack an eye open at that.
>This isn't right.
>"I'm oats. I'm ready for you to eat me, Lyra."
"Uhhhhhhh"
"Ummmmmmm"
>You stand up from the floor and look around.
>Lyra and Twilight are staring at you like you're a freakshow.
>This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.
>This wasn't how any of this was supposed to happen.
>"No. Please."
>You kneel before Lyra, and she cringes as you put your hands on her shoulders.
>"You have to. You have to eat me! I've seen it so many times! I've felt it! Please!"
>Lyra continues to stare at you.
>You clutch your head in your hands.
>"No. NO!"
>You break with a guttural scream and leave the house.
>Ponies that were watching from just outside scatter to allow you to pass.
>No one follows you.
>You walk to the edge of town, and sit down.
>For the first time since you were a kid, you cry.
>No pony.
>No narcotics.
>You have nothing to live for.
>The only thing you have to rely on is opium.
>Opium that most likely doesn't exist in this world.
>Wait.
>Most likely?
>A thread of hope.
>You quickly single out the mare most likely to know about the stuff, and head to Sugarcube Corner.
>"Pinkie Pie."
"Oh! Hello! How do you know me? I don't know you! Ooh, are we friends? Can we be friends?"
>"Pinkie. In this world, does there exist a black, flammable substance with useful smoke?"
"Hmmmmm."
>She rubs her chin in thought.
"Tar?"
>"No. Not tar."
"HMMMMMMMM"
>She thoughtfully puffs on a bubble-pipe.
"Oh! You must mean that flower gunk stuff! Here, come with me!"
>You feel slightly better.
>Like complete shit, but slightly better.
>You follow Pinkie upstairs into her room.
>She pulls a huge ball of top shelf shit out of her dresser.
>You never had stuff this good back on Earth.
>Wait, whydoes she even have a dresser?
>"Pinkie. Can we smoke this?"
"Welllllll we could, but my fatty pipe broke! And there aren't any more!"
[spoiler]You really hope that isn't a euphemism.[/spoiler]
>No. It couldn't be true.
>"No more?"
"Yep no more pipes! And we can't make anymore either!"
>You take a step back.
>Your heart is beating 2.536 miles a minute.
>You hear yourself hyperventilating.
>Zecora!
>Zecora has the pipe.
>You grab the ball from Pinkie and sprint out of Ponyville.
>The forest blurs past.
>"ZECORA!"
>She is standing outside of her hut.
"Ah, yes, my new friend, for what reason have you come again?"
>"ZECORA! THE PIPE! I NEED IT!"
"In my stomach is where the pipe sits, I should inform you it was delish."
>She ate it.
>SHE FUCKING ATE IT.
>You scream into the air.
>Pushing Zecora aside, you stomp into her hut.
>You grab the spear hanging above her doorway.
"No! Stop! The spear, let it drop!
>You grit your teeth, kneeling and holding the spear against your chest.
>Your aim was true.
>Pain that Lyra refused to grant you blossomed out from your chest.
>Heh, thanks for all the hard work, old juicer.
>Sorry to cut your time short.
>You hear Zecora rapidly mixing a potion.
>No way she would be able to make it in time.
>This time on the ground, you're warm.
>You smile and let your eyelids close.
>Your last thoughts are of the green mare with a harp on her ass.
>And what an ass it was.

>Farming was hard work.
>Nothing a proud earth pony like you couldn't handle.
>Still, you were glad to be done for the day.
>You stand next to another field hand.
"Ay, huckleberry, you ever heard that this place used to be a graveyard?"
>"No shit?"
"Really. My sister stumbled apon some musty document. Apparently if somethin' nasty turned up and got kilt, they threw it here."
>"Hmph. Makes me feel a little worse about my work. Who the hell plants an oat field over a graveyard, anyway?"
"Makes sense to me."
>...
>It was a good strong harvest. 
>The oats were prepped as usual and sent away to be bagged.
>After that they ended up on shelves all across Equestria.
>A certain green mare, feeling nostalgic, pics up a bag of her old favorite brand.
>It has a strange savory tang to it.
>She recalls an incident years ago in Ponyville.