It’s another wonderfully sunny day in the quaint, quiet suburbs known by the local hoofed-folk as Ponyville. You describe yourself as being impossibly smart, dashingly handsome, humble to a fault, and in need to have a quick, casual chat with the idiot across the street from you. Seeing as you are the only creature in existence with those exact qualifications, you can be none other than the lovable scamp known as Discord.
You paddle your wooden canoe down the sidewalk and across the busy street full of ponies that you don’t recognize. You barely managed to not bump the bow of your watercraft into one of the many unawares mares, which could have sent them to Davy Jones's locker at the bottom of the street. You make it to the other side and briefly ponder why chickens always can’t hardly don’t. You slice your oaken paddle into the sidewalk and stroke backwards, your canoe hard to port, coasting into a stable drift alongside the target of your much needed conversation.
“Ahoy there, landlubber,” you say in your best French accent, “Tis dire that we have parley.”
“Little busy right now, Discord, what with me walking away from you and all.” Your little human friend widens his gate to take bigger steps.
His mutinous tone nearly knocks your captain's hat from your head in surprise. The cheeky critter thinks he can walk away from this conversation? You gave him a chance, he obviously wants to do this the fun way. Some creatures seem to never learn. Mortals be like that sometimes, flippant to a fault in the face of a god. He is very lucky you're in a jolly rogering mood today.
You dig your paw into the bottom of your boat, deep into one of your many spatial pocket dimensions. You grope past the butterfly net you use to catch lightning and pull out your trusty fly fishing rod. It’s not the comically large anchor that you were looking for but it will do. You quickly fwip the rod back and forward, launching the impossibly light gossamer thread through the air, sending the delicate fly literally screaming through the air. Its terrified shrieks of tiny terror giving you a delightful tingle in your zygomatic nerve which causes you to grin. The fly lands squarely on the back of the human’s shirt.
“Gotcha!” You gleefully shout.
Your fishing skills are par none; completely pointless. You yank on the rod, pulling the line taught. He and you vanish in a puff of pink smoke and halibut, absconding to otherworldly places and beyond, while your canoe and all your fishing equipment remain behind, gently bobbing in the eddy currents of the concrete sidewalk.
The music blared from the grand stack of floor speakers far below. You and your human guest were high above the roar of the crowd, sitting on a cloud with several other pegasi.
“Discord, can you be serious for once?” Your guest complained loudly, which was a great feat, given how loud the music was.
“I am being serious!” You whisper-shouted, which was easy for you because of your semi-phenomenal nearly-cosmic chaos powers.
“Then why did you bring me to a rock concert?” Ah yes, why, indeed. A very good question.
You twirl your clawed hand in the air above your head. “Atmosphere. The Ugly Muffins are inspirational. A national treasure.” Under appreciated by most, but their performance still draws in a crowd nonetheless.
“They’re terrible.” The human correctly observed.
Oh, they truly are terrible, but that’s why you love them. Derpy Hooves on drums, Miss Cheerlee on guitar, and Carrot Top on vocals. They made such beautiful, noisy chaos together. The start of every song would have a different guest come out on stage and join them. Right now Octavia Melody was plucking and slapping her double-contrabass with sick beats that would make WoodenToaster proud.
“I like their technique.” Which is about the only thing that you enjoy about them. Their frantic banging and clattering had its own unique charm to it.
The lead mare raised her electric guitar high above her head and brought it down upon the stage floor with all her earth pony might. Upon impact it immediately shattered into flinders so beautiful it nearly brought a tear to your eye. Best get on with things, as you are nearly out of time.
You snapped your fingers together. The sharp click and a generous dose of chaos magic brought forth a silver box covered in black dials and sliders. You gently pinch the one labeled ‘loopback adapter’ and slide it to the very bottom and the entire outside world beyond the cloud fades into silence. The group of unwelcomed pegasus frowned at you before taking flight to find a different cloud.
“W-“
You summon a third hand and place a finger vertically over the human’s mouth to shush his silly, needless blathering. “There will be time for questions when the demonstration is over.”
You continue, “Remember Tirek? Big guy, red centaur with huge arms, black pointy horns, epic beard, who tried to eat all of the unicorn magic in Equestria? He was a lot of fun once upon a time. Then one day he got big in the breeches and all he ever wanted to do was to gain power for the sake of gaining power. Kind of boring, really, but I can sympathize with the feeling. I only survived as long as I did because I was useful to him. With him gone there is a power vacuum and some young upstart pony felt the need to fill it. A unicorn whose grand ambition makes Tirek look like a colt throwing a tantrum.
At first I was afraid, I was petrified! This Unicorn wizard wanted not just all unicorn magic, but the magic of all creatures everywhere. And, look at me, I am all creatures! Twilight and the other princesses of the realm are trying to save as many ponies and other species as they can. But who is going to save adorable little ol’ me? Did you think I'd crumble, just lay down and die? Oh no, not I. I will survive. Since you’re the only human in Equestria, the princess of nerds has come up with a specific plan to save you and your unique brand of human magic from being consumed by the unicorn tyrant. And my genius plan, sponsored by Brilliant, more on them later, is to piggyback on their plan to save you to save myself.
“Tonight Twilight is going to freeze you — and a few supplies — in time and store your petrified body at the bottom-most level of a limestone cave system. And I insist that you must let her, for both our sake. I am only technically immortal for reasons that you don’t need to worry about. For as long as someone has a memory of me, I will survive.
“And that’s everything that you need to know. Any questions?”
Your human guest was silent for some time. Quiet, contemplative, lost in deep thought. You could never imagine in a million years what could be going through his head at any given point, let alone right now. Then the look on his face changed, softened. It seemed that he had made up his mind about something.
“Sometimes I get these strange feelings deep down which tell me that everything will all turn out okay. Pinkie Pie said that I have something like her Pinkie sense. I do have a whole lot of questions; about the new magic murdercorn, Twilights plan to save ponies, your plan to save yourself, and about what Fluttershy would say about all of this, but my Pinkie sense is telling me that I would be better off not knowing the answer. So… do you wanna go get matching tour t-shirts, or something? I’ll even let you buy.”
You gently tousle the hair on his head, “Sure, buddy, we can get matching shirts.”
“Can we get ice cream after?”
“Don’t push it.”