Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Show rules for this event
Rise of The 420: The Musical
Without warning, a black-coated, red-maned thestralcorn leapt into an open spotlight, waving jazz-hooves and bursting into song:
There was a sound like unto a record scratching as Dark Lord Shadow Ashes turned his head and glared down from atop the decorative custom-molded pile of plastic but convincingly well-painted pony skulls. A hush rippled through the assembled host of four hundred and eighteen other steel-jawed thestralcorns, as the singer—every bit as hulking and dark-coated as the others—withered under the gaze of all of them.
Silence reigned as the long moment stretched into a thing like unto infinity and the brooding fire of Dark Lord Shadow Ashes’ unspoken rage burned in his eyes. But then an echo of dripping water issued from somewhere deep inside the dark yet tastefully decorated cavern, causing Dark Lord Shadow Ashes to turn his gaze toward a slightly less hulking and marginally more bookish thestralcorn standing close to the pile of skulls.
“Wormdeath, I thought you said you were having that leak taken care of.”
“A thousand apologies, my callous Lord,” Wormdeath said, bowing low enough to let his flowing red mane brush the faux-stone tiled floor. “The swine of a plumber requested payment up front, and the Great and Terrible Debit Card of Considerable Endowment… proved to be overdrawn.”
If Dark Lord Shadow Ashes’ eyes had burned with rage a moment hence, their smoldering soon built to levels that threatened to set off the overhead smoke alarm. Which, coincidentally, chose just that moment to chirp in reminder of the failing battery that hadn’t been replaced in far too long.
The Dark Lord drew himself up to his full and considerable height, which was bolstered as always by his black-laquered, impractically tall platform horseshoes, as well his high and effluent red mohawk. “My brothers,” his voice boomed, “it is clear that our warhost has fallen on hard times these thousand years since the reign of our Almighty And Terrible But Actually Pretty Hot Mistress Nightmare Moon.”
“May the stars aid us in her plot,” the ranks of stallions chorused.
“But brother Bloodgore’s insolent reminders of our… shall we say limited remaining stock of phoenix dust will not do,” the Dark Lord said, pointing an accusing hoof toward the thestralcorn who still stood isolated from his brothers.
Bloodgore’s eyes were wide with unbecoming panic, and he pranced in place nervously. “No, Dark Lord, I can’t take it anymore! The Mistress asked us to wait, and we waited! For a thousand years we’ve lurked in our cave, smoking the dust of phoenixes—”
“It’s ‘phoenices,’” Wormdeath interrupted.
“Whatever! Nopony cares what you think, Wormdeath!”
“Dark Lord Shadow Ashes does,” Wormdeath retorted.
“Well, I don’t! Not anymore!” Bloodgore pointed his hoof toward the throne. “The phoenixes stopped breeding—”
“Phoenices!”
“Shut up, Wormdeath! The point is, we ran out of them! And what have you done about that, Dark Lord? You sit brooding day and night, refusing to honor the Mistress’ orders that we should be ready for her when she calls us because you also want to honor her order that we hide ourselves away to retain the element of surprise. Well let me tell you, it’s sure gonna be surprising to her when she calls us and we’re all dead because the source of our eternal vigor dried up! So what are you gonna do about that, huh?!”
The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. “Brother Wormdeath, where can we procure new phoenixes—”
“It’s ‘phoenices,’ my Lord.”
“Sure, sure, phoenices.” Dark Lord Shadow Ashes paused, mulling this over. “Are you sure? It kind of sounds like ‘penis-eese’ when you say it that way.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the warhost.
Wormdeath huffed and puffed. “My Lord! Such indecorous speech!”
“It is true,” the Dark Lord said. “Soon even our decor will suffer from the lack of phoenix dust. Or from the lack of brothers fit to soar on wings of darkness up to dust the nooks and crannies. Something like that. Anyway!” He pointed a hoof toward Bloodgore. “Though our brother’s great impertinence has surely earned him The Lousy And Terrible Death Of Being In The Front Rank During Our Triumphant Opening Charge, I cannot deny his point: we must see to our own continuance, lest we fail to serve our Mistress’ plot by default.”
“Her glorious plot!” somepony shouted.
“But where can we come up with either more… of those birds,” the Dark Lord said, hedging his bets. “Or just a stash of phoenix dust laying around?” He paused, and not only for effect. “Wait a minute. Wormdeath? Didn’t we used to have one of those a few centuries back?”
Wormdeath scratched at his chin. “You know what, Dark Lord, I think we did.”
“Where’d we put that again?”
Wormdeath’s countenance fell. “Oh no. Dark Lord, recall that we entrusted it to the Cowardly And Terrible In The Sense Of Actually Being Terrible brother Axe Holder, who claimed he had discovered some kind of perfect hiding place for it. But then he deserted us, leaving us bereft of phoenices!”
The Dark Lord scowled down at his throne. “That… still doesn’t sound right to me, Wormdeath.”
Bloodgore leapt forward. “My Lord, ‘tis possible that the foul traitor left a forwarding address!”
“Indeed?” Dark Lord Shadow Ashes raised an eyebrow. “Then gird thy loins, my brothers; for as soon as we locate that address, we shall fly forth upon our Mistress’ glorious night and lay waste upon Axe Holder’s legacy!”
The gathering all cheered, except for Wormdeath, who raised a hoof in silence.
As the noise died down, the Dark Lord sighed. “Yes, brother?”
Wormdeath paused. “The faucet may be drippy, but the rest of the bathroom is working fine, Dark Lord. We needn’t actually lay waste upon them.”
The Dark Lord pressed a hoof to his face. “Brother Wormdeath will join brother Bloodgore in the front ranks! Now muster yourselves, brothers! For tonight we dine in hell! Or at least not at a five-star establishment!”
Limestone Pie began her day the way she began most days: by pounding on the line of doors in her farmhouse home’s long upstairs hallway well before the crack of dawn. She bellowed (with profanity to taste) for everypony else to start their chores, then paused, waiting to hear the sound of her family members shifting themselves and her sister Marble weeping softly as she was wont to do when yelled at.
With that accomplished, she tromped down the stairs to her living room and set off toward the kitchen to start the day’s first pot of coffee. But the echoes of her hooves on the wooden floor seemed… off, somehow. She paused and listened, trying to block out her family’s grumbling. And at the edges of her hearing, another faint but extant sound slowly became apparent:
Singing.
She moved to the living room’s bay window and pulled the curtains aside. Nothing but the twilight of pre-dawn seemed apparent. But the song continued:
There was a commotion, followed by a single loud voice cutting through: “I’m telling you, it’s ‘swole,’ not ‘swelled!’ That doesn’t even make sense!”
The sounds of an argument continued. Limestone crossed to the front door, opened it, and stepped out into the cool early morning. The rock farm was still too dark for her to see much, but she could hear a loud kerfuffle coming from the direction of Holder’s Boulder, so she set off across the short distance from her front door to the great rock.
Upon arriving near Holder’s Boulder, she went slack-jawed at the sight of scores and scores of horned and bat-winged shapes alternately tripping over and flying into each other, seemingly in chaos. Some tried to grip and move Holder’s Boulder, while others scratched at its surface with their hooves, and still others randomly paused and tried to burst into parts of a song before being cuffed by their fellows.
Eventually one of the ponies flew higher than the others and bellowed for silence. Limestone took the group’s compliance as her cue to insert herself into the proceedings: “Would any of you numbskulls care to tell me what you’re doing with Holder’s Boulder?!”
The pony flying above chuckled. “Ah, a lovely and exotic mare of the surface world. Come, my angel; join the Dark Lord Shadow Ashes in the embrace of night eternal.” And he too burst into song:
He cut off because Limestone threw a rock at him. It made a “thunk” sound as it bounced off his head, and then he fell unceremoniously to the ground.
The other ponies all gasped simultaneously. All but one of them, who called out: “Oh no she didn’t!”
“Oh yes I did,” she countered. “Now listen up, every last one of you pointy red-and-black weirdos! You must’ve made a wrong turn at Cucamonga or something, because this is the Pie family rock farm, and that right there is Holder’s Boulder, and rule number one at the Pie family rock farm is to stay off Holder’s Boulder!”
“But brother Axe Holder was one of us!” a particularly burly thestralcorn shouted.
“Yeah, and that’s our last stash of dust from the phoenixes!” shouted another one.
“Phoenices!”
“Shut it, Wormdeath!”
Limestone scrunched up her muzzle. “Wait… so there’s a stash of phoenix dust in there?”
“No!” they chorused. “The whole thing is a cleverly disguised concentration of it!”
She shook her head. “I wonder if that’s why Granny Pie always said to keep ponies off of it. I learned about that stuff in filly school. That stuff’s supposed to make you crazy. Yeah you live forever, but it turns your coat all kinds of funky colors, and it makes you randomly start singing to yourself, and…”
Limestone trailed off. “Oh. Okay. That makes… a lot more sense now.”
The burly thestralcorn pushed himself forward through the throng of others. Despite the confidence gifted by her inner wellspring of aggression, Limestone found herself stepping backwards and gulping at the sight of his sheer angry mass as it pushed right into her face.
“I am Bloodgore the Undeterred, and I will not be deterred by the likes of you,” he hissed at her. “Our service to the Great And Hot But Mostly Regal Mistress Nightmare Moon depends on our success.”
Limestone frowned. “Wait. Nightmare Moon?”
“Yes,” he said, pressing closer.
She stepped back again. “Wait. Hold on. You guys know that she already came back a couple years ago, right? And she got turned back to Luna, and she isn’t evil now, and stuff.”
The thestralcorn blinked, then glared back at his fellows. “Wormdeath! Weren’t you supposed to be keeping track of the date for our Glorious And Terrible But Hopefully Not Mis-Timed Return?”
“Eh. Oh. Ha ha. My bad,” a thin voice called from somewhwere in the throng.
The group of thestralcorns slowly, nonchalantly began to murmur vague words of apology as they shuffled off down the road away from the farm, eventually taking flight into the barely-rising sun.
Limestone looked down at the unconscious thestralcorn who remained, and frowned as she debated what to do with him.
She didn’t burst into song, though. That would just be irritating.
It was only on rare occasions that Pinkie Pie paid visits to her fillyhood home on the rock farm. Being summoned by her sister to help deal with a potential international incident was certainly reason enough, though.
Even though it was painful sometimes to step back into the joyless environment where she’d gotten her start in life, she also found it important to connect with the ponies of her past. Her reasons were manyfold, but essentially boiled down to the fact that she still loved them, and because taking time to walk among them again reminded her of how much personal progress she’d made in the intervening years.
Oh, and there was also one other thing.
As Pinkie trotted toward the house, she paused for a moment and scraped a hoof across the surface of Holder’s Boulder, examining and then licking the residue she found there.
And without warning, she burst into song:
“That phoenix dust, it’s a helluva drug!
Perks pinions up, and puts a smile on yer mug!
We may be stuck in this hole that we’ve dug,
But phoenix dust is still a helluva drug!”
There was a sound like unto a record scratching as Dark Lord Shadow Ashes turned his head and glared down from atop the decorative custom-molded pile of plastic but convincingly well-painted pony skulls. A hush rippled through the assembled host of four hundred and eighteen other steel-jawed thestralcorns, as the singer—every bit as hulking and dark-coated as the others—withered under the gaze of all of them.
Silence reigned as the long moment stretched into a thing like unto infinity and the brooding fire of Dark Lord Shadow Ashes’ unspoken rage burned in his eyes. But then an echo of dripping water issued from somewhere deep inside the dark yet tastefully decorated cavern, causing Dark Lord Shadow Ashes to turn his gaze toward a slightly less hulking and marginally more bookish thestralcorn standing close to the pile of skulls.
“Wormdeath, I thought you said you were having that leak taken care of.”
“A thousand apologies, my callous Lord,” Wormdeath said, bowing low enough to let his flowing red mane brush the faux-stone tiled floor. “The swine of a plumber requested payment up front, and the Great and Terrible Debit Card of Considerable Endowment… proved to be overdrawn.”
If Dark Lord Shadow Ashes’ eyes had burned with rage a moment hence, their smoldering soon built to levels that threatened to set off the overhead smoke alarm. Which, coincidentally, chose just that moment to chirp in reminder of the failing battery that hadn’t been replaced in far too long.
The Dark Lord drew himself up to his full and considerable height, which was bolstered as always by his black-laquered, impractically tall platform horseshoes, as well his high and effluent red mohawk. “My brothers,” his voice boomed, “it is clear that our warhost has fallen on hard times these thousand years since the reign of our Almighty And Terrible But Actually Pretty Hot Mistress Nightmare Moon.”
“May the stars aid us in her plot,” the ranks of stallions chorused.
“But brother Bloodgore’s insolent reminders of our… shall we say limited remaining stock of phoenix dust will not do,” the Dark Lord said, pointing an accusing hoof toward the thestralcorn who still stood isolated from his brothers.
Bloodgore’s eyes were wide with unbecoming panic, and he pranced in place nervously. “No, Dark Lord, I can’t take it anymore! The Mistress asked us to wait, and we waited! For a thousand years we’ve lurked in our cave, smoking the dust of phoenixes—”
“It’s ‘phoenices,’” Wormdeath interrupted.
“Whatever! Nopony cares what you think, Wormdeath!”
“Dark Lord Shadow Ashes does,” Wormdeath retorted.
“Well, I don’t! Not anymore!” Bloodgore pointed his hoof toward the throne. “The phoenixes stopped breeding—”
“Phoenices!”
“Shut up, Wormdeath! The point is, we ran out of them! And what have you done about that, Dark Lord? You sit brooding day and night, refusing to honor the Mistress’ orders that we should be ready for her when she calls us because you also want to honor her order that we hide ourselves away to retain the element of surprise. Well let me tell you, it’s sure gonna be surprising to her when she calls us and we’re all dead because the source of our eternal vigor dried up! So what are you gonna do about that, huh?!”
The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. “Brother Wormdeath, where can we procure new phoenixes—”
“It’s ‘phoenices,’ my Lord.”
“Sure, sure, phoenices.” Dark Lord Shadow Ashes paused, mulling this over. “Are you sure? It kind of sounds like ‘penis-eese’ when you say it that way.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the warhost.
Wormdeath huffed and puffed. “My Lord! Such indecorous speech!”
“It is true,” the Dark Lord said. “Soon even our decor will suffer from the lack of phoenix dust. Or from the lack of brothers fit to soar on wings of darkness up to dust the nooks and crannies. Something like that. Anyway!” He pointed a hoof toward Bloodgore. “Though our brother’s great impertinence has surely earned him The Lousy And Terrible Death Of Being In The Front Rank During Our Triumphant Opening Charge, I cannot deny his point: we must see to our own continuance, lest we fail to serve our Mistress’ plot by default.”
“Her glorious plot!” somepony shouted.
“But where can we come up with either more… of those birds,” the Dark Lord said, hedging his bets. “Or just a stash of phoenix dust laying around?” He paused, and not only for effect. “Wait a minute. Wormdeath? Didn’t we used to have one of those a few centuries back?”
Wormdeath scratched at his chin. “You know what, Dark Lord, I think we did.”
“Where’d we put that again?”
Wormdeath’s countenance fell. “Oh no. Dark Lord, recall that we entrusted it to the Cowardly And Terrible In The Sense Of Actually Being Terrible brother Axe Holder, who claimed he had discovered some kind of perfect hiding place for it. But then he deserted us, leaving us bereft of phoenices!”
The Dark Lord scowled down at his throne. “That… still doesn’t sound right to me, Wormdeath.”
Bloodgore leapt forward. “My Lord, ‘tis possible that the foul traitor left a forwarding address!”
“Indeed?” Dark Lord Shadow Ashes raised an eyebrow. “Then gird thy loins, my brothers; for as soon as we locate that address, we shall fly forth upon our Mistress’ glorious night and lay waste upon Axe Holder’s legacy!”
The gathering all cheered, except for Wormdeath, who raised a hoof in silence.
As the noise died down, the Dark Lord sighed. “Yes, brother?”
Wormdeath paused. “The faucet may be drippy, but the rest of the bathroom is working fine, Dark Lord. We needn’t actually lay waste upon them.”
The Dark Lord pressed a hoof to his face. “Brother Wormdeath will join brother Bloodgore in the front ranks! Now muster yourselves, brothers! For tonight we dine in hell! Or at least not at a five-star establishment!”
Limestone Pie began her day the way she began most days: by pounding on the line of doors in her farmhouse home’s long upstairs hallway well before the crack of dawn. She bellowed (with profanity to taste) for everypony else to start their chores, then paused, waiting to hear the sound of her family members shifting themselves and her sister Marble weeping softly as she was wont to do when yelled at.
With that accomplished, she tromped down the stairs to her living room and set off toward the kitchen to start the day’s first pot of coffee. But the echoes of her hooves on the wooden floor seemed… off, somehow. She paused and listened, trying to block out her family’s grumbling. And at the edges of her hearing, another faint but extant sound slowly became apparent:
Singing.
“When you’re a bat,
You’re at home with your clan
From your first red-and-black
Aerosol hair dye can!”
She moved to the living room’s bay window and pulled the curtains aside. Nothing but the twilight of pre-dawn seemed apparent. But the song continued:
“Here come the bats
Like, we’re bats out of hell;
We’re all monochrome, badass,
And totally swelled—”
There was a commotion, followed by a single loud voice cutting through: “I’m telling you, it’s ‘swole,’ not ‘swelled!’ That doesn’t even make sense!”
The sounds of an argument continued. Limestone crossed to the front door, opened it, and stepped out into the cool early morning. The rock farm was still too dark for her to see much, but she could hear a loud kerfuffle coming from the direction of Holder’s Boulder, so she set off across the short distance from her front door to the great rock.
Upon arriving near Holder’s Boulder, she went slack-jawed at the sight of scores and scores of horned and bat-winged shapes alternately tripping over and flying into each other, seemingly in chaos. Some tried to grip and move Holder’s Boulder, while others scratched at its surface with their hooves, and still others randomly paused and tried to burst into parts of a song before being cuffed by their fellows.
Eventually one of the ponies flew higher than the others and bellowed for silence. Limestone took the group’s compliance as her cue to insert herself into the proceedings: “Would any of you numbskulls care to tell me what you’re doing with Holder’s Boulder?!”
The pony flying above chuckled. “Ah, a lovely and exotic mare of the surface world. Come, my angel; join the Dark Lord Shadow Ashes in the embrace of night eternal.” And he too burst into song:
“Come up and fly with me
Check my ripped pecs;
The languor of my hot
And smoking s—”
He cut off because Limestone threw a rock at him. It made a “thunk” sound as it bounced off his head, and then he fell unceremoniously to the ground.
The other ponies all gasped simultaneously. All but one of them, who called out: “Oh no she didn’t!”
“Oh yes I did,” she countered. “Now listen up, every last one of you pointy red-and-black weirdos! You must’ve made a wrong turn at Cucamonga or something, because this is the Pie family rock farm, and that right there is Holder’s Boulder, and rule number one at the Pie family rock farm is to stay off Holder’s Boulder!”
“But brother Axe Holder was one of us!” a particularly burly thestralcorn shouted.
“Yeah, and that’s our last stash of dust from the phoenixes!” shouted another one.
“Phoenices!”
“Shut it, Wormdeath!”
Limestone scrunched up her muzzle. “Wait… so there’s a stash of phoenix dust in there?”
“No!” they chorused. “The whole thing is a cleverly disguised concentration of it!”
She shook her head. “I wonder if that’s why Granny Pie always said to keep ponies off of it. I learned about that stuff in filly school. That stuff’s supposed to make you crazy. Yeah you live forever, but it turns your coat all kinds of funky colors, and it makes you randomly start singing to yourself, and…”
Limestone trailed off. “Oh. Okay. That makes… a lot more sense now.”
The burly thestralcorn pushed himself forward through the throng of others. Despite the confidence gifted by her inner wellspring of aggression, Limestone found herself stepping backwards and gulping at the sight of his sheer angry mass as it pushed right into her face.
“I am Bloodgore the Undeterred, and I will not be deterred by the likes of you,” he hissed at her. “Our service to the Great And Hot But Mostly Regal Mistress Nightmare Moon depends on our success.”
Limestone frowned. “Wait. Nightmare Moon?”
“Yes,” he said, pressing closer.
She stepped back again. “Wait. Hold on. You guys know that she already came back a couple years ago, right? And she got turned back to Luna, and she isn’t evil now, and stuff.”
The thestralcorn blinked, then glared back at his fellows. “Wormdeath! Weren’t you supposed to be keeping track of the date for our Glorious And Terrible But Hopefully Not Mis-Timed Return?”
“Eh. Oh. Ha ha. My bad,” a thin voice called from somewhwere in the throng.
The group of thestralcorns slowly, nonchalantly began to murmur vague words of apology as they shuffled off down the road away from the farm, eventually taking flight into the barely-rising sun.
Limestone looked down at the unconscious thestralcorn who remained, and frowned as she debated what to do with him.
She didn’t burst into song, though. That would just be irritating.
It was only on rare occasions that Pinkie Pie paid visits to her fillyhood home on the rock farm. Being summoned by her sister to help deal with a potential international incident was certainly reason enough, though.
Even though it was painful sometimes to step back into the joyless environment where she’d gotten her start in life, she also found it important to connect with the ponies of her past. Her reasons were manyfold, but essentially boiled down to the fact that she still loved them, and because taking time to walk among them again reminded her of how much personal progress she’d made in the intervening years.
Oh, and there was also one other thing.
As Pinkie trotted toward the house, she paused for a moment and scraped a hoof across the surface of Holder’s Boulder, examining and then licking the residue she found there.
And without warning, she burst into song:
“That phoenix dust, it’s a helluva drug…”
Pics
Genre: Crackfic that swerves into making its own kind of weird internal sense and being funnier for it
Thoughts: Okay, so we're blazing (420) along here with what's pretty obviously an over the top crackfic setup. It's funny if a little crude, but of course it can't end well, right? Then suddenly we cut to Most Tsundere Pone of all people, and the comedy drops off pretty hard for a few minutes, only to come roaring back with a vengeance toward the end of her sequence. It's actually kind of a neat bait-and-switch that helps the story hit harder by injecting just enough (skewed) logic into the absurdity of its premise.
I think this could be polarizing, though, because the overall premise is just so weird, and because the ending provides a very different interpretation of a beloved character that at once both works in the story's context and feels deeply uncomfortable outside of it.
But hey, it's comedy that tap-dances its way across more than one land mine while remaining funny throughout (except for the one hard transition). It's crazy, and silly, and I think it sets a high bar for the level of comedy in a Writeoff that seems to have brought out some serious silliness. And it's polished from a technical perspective as well, other than maybe needing some cleanup of adverb use in places.
Tier: Top Contender
Thoughts: Okay, so we're blazing (420) along here with what's pretty obviously an over the top crackfic setup. It's funny if a little crude, but of course it can't end well, right? Then suddenly we cut to Most Tsundere Pone of all people, and the comedy drops off pretty hard for a few minutes, only to come roaring back with a vengeance toward the end of her sequence. It's actually kind of a neat bait-and-switch that helps the story hit harder by injecting just enough (skewed) logic into the absurdity of its premise.
I think this could be polarizing, though, because the overall premise is just so weird, and because the ending provides a very different interpretation of a beloved character that at once both works in the story's context and feels deeply uncomfortable outside of it.
But hey, it's comedy that tap-dances its way across more than one land mine while remaining funny throughout (except for the one hard transition). It's crazy, and silly, and I think it sets a high bar for the level of comedy in a Writeoff that seems to have brought out some serious silliness. And it's polished from a technical perspective as well, other than maybe needing some cleanup of adverb use in places.
Tier: Top Contender
There are things about this that I really like :D I like some of the jokes a lot. I also don’t care for some of the jokes. Now, don’t take this as objective criticism, comedy is subjective and stuff, but I’ll explain my reasoning.
First of all, I like the long titles. It’s a joke I’m fond of :> One thing I especially like is you use inconsistency in titles at one point:
This was great. I liked this. :D
One thing I didn’t like was that I felt that title joke was a tad overused. I can’t give you an exact long-title-per-thousand-words ratio that draws the line between funny and unfunny (though some live by the “rule of three” in stories; three of the same joke is the limit, as a rule of thumb), but after a while I kind of got the idea, and it became less funny the more it was used. I think the same was true with the “pheoneces” joke; though, the “penis-eese” bit was a good variation and caught me off guard, good stuff :> But yeah, there were a few, maybe one too many times he was corrected.
That captures my main issue with this story, I think. It runs on a bit too long, in terms of execution. Not only are the jokes repeated just a tad too much, but I feel like there’s a bit too much explanation as well, namely in the first scene. I think it’s a bit too exposition-dense. I also think one or two of the jokes’ deliveries are a bit too wordy. I think some could’ve been cut down in places to be more punchy: For instance:
Personally, I think the last sentence could be cut; the fact that there’s a household smoke alarm in a dark cavern is funny by itself. If not that, I’d argue you could cut [that hadn’t been replaced in far too long.] since a shorter line would make it more punchy, and it’s unnecessary since you already reference the “failing” battery (perhaps “the long-failing battery” if you want to include that factoid?).
(The “swelled” joke, though; loved it :> )
I’d also make the argument that Limestone is out of character here. I get it’s crackfic, but it’s at least something I’d like to point out. I’d think she’d be much more concise in her orders, as she was in the show (“Stay off Holder’s boulder!”) as opposed to this line here:
In my opinion, it’d feel more natural and funny just to have her say something like “Now listen up, you pointy red-and-black weirdos! Stay off Holder’s boulder!”. Again, because it’s a bit more concise, and also more in character for Limestone.
Anyway, hope you thought some of that was useful. I like this story overall, but I feel some of the comedy could use a bit of tightening up. First one on my slate, so I'm putting this right at the top ;P
First of all, I like the long titles. It’s a joke I’m fond of :> One thing I especially like is you use inconsistency in titles at one point:
since the reign of our Almighty And Terrible But Actually Pretty Hot Mistress Nightmare Moon.”
“Our service to the Great And Hot But Mostly Regal Mistress Nightmare Moon
This was great. I liked this. :D
One thing I didn’t like was that I felt that title joke was a tad overused. I can’t give you an exact long-title-per-thousand-words ratio that draws the line between funny and unfunny (though some live by the “rule of three” in stories; three of the same joke is the limit, as a rule of thumb), but after a while I kind of got the idea, and it became less funny the more it was used. I think the same was true with the “pheoneces” joke; though, the “penis-eese” bit was a good variation and caught me off guard, good stuff :> But yeah, there were a few, maybe one too many times he was corrected.
That captures my main issue with this story, I think. It runs on a bit too long, in terms of execution. Not only are the jokes repeated just a tad too much, but I feel like there’s a bit too much explanation as well, namely in the first scene. I think it’s a bit too exposition-dense. I also think one or two of the jokes’ deliveries are a bit too wordy. I think some could’ve been cut down in places to be more punchy: For instance:
If Dark Lord Shadow Ashes’ eyes had burned with rage a moment hence, their smoldering soon built to levels that threatened to set off the overhead smoke alarm. Which, coincidentally, chose just that moment to chirp in reminder of the failing battery that hadn’t been replaced in far too long.
Personally, I think the last sentence could be cut; the fact that there’s a household smoke alarm in a dark cavern is funny by itself. If not that, I’d argue you could cut [that hadn’t been replaced in far too long.] since a shorter line would make it more punchy, and it’s unnecessary since you already reference the “failing” battery (perhaps “the long-failing battery” if you want to include that factoid?).
(The “swelled” joke, though; loved it :> )
I’d also make the argument that Limestone is out of character here. I get it’s crackfic, but it’s at least something I’d like to point out. I’d think she’d be much more concise in her orders, as she was in the show (“Stay off Holder’s boulder!”) as opposed to this line here:
“Oh yes I did,” she countered. “Now listen up, every last one of you pointy red-and-black weirdos! You must’ve made a wrong turn at Cucamonga or something, because this is the Pie family rock farm, and that right there is Holder’s Boulder, and rule number one at the Pie family rock farm is to stay off Holder’s Boulder!”
In my opinion, it’d feel more natural and funny just to have her say something like “Now listen up, you pointy red-and-black weirdos! Stay off Holder’s boulder!”. Again, because it’s a bit more concise, and also more in character for Limestone.
Anyway, hope you thought some of that was useful. I like this story overall, but I feel some of the comedy could use a bit of tightening up. First one on my slate, so I'm putting this right at the top ;P
It seems >>FrontSevens has said pretty much what I was thinking.
I agree with almost everything except for the jokes. I didn't really feel to be too repetitive, just a bit.
I'll just add that the last joke with Pinkie was too long. Once you mentionned her name, I already knew how it would end. In my opinion, the whole paragraph about why Pinkie has come back to the farm is useless and only delays the punchline.
I agree with almost everything except for the jokes. I didn't really feel to be too repetitive, just a bit.
I'll just add that the last joke with Pinkie was too long. Once you mentionned her name, I already knew how it would end. In my opinion, the whole paragraph about why Pinkie has come back to the farm is useless and only delays the punchline.
How wonderful is it that the word "plot" is being used as a double entendre in a meta sense for once? Unless the thestralcorns really are worshiping Luna's ass, and not her sinister agenda, and I've just completely misread that joke.
Very well-paced comedy that plays around with both series lore and the English language itself to magnificent effect. First thing on my slate, first thing I read, and first thing to make me laugh my guts straight out of my nose. The musical numbers themselves make little sense (not that anything in this story really makes sense), but being thestral-themed rewrites of West Side Story's musical numbers is curiously appropriate, given the behavior and the whole ethos of the thestralcorn race. So we'll let it slide.
Bless this story, bless its author, and bless the noble Dark Lord Shadow Ashes. Now someone hook me up with a blunt'a phoenix dust. I heartell it's a hell of a drug.
Very well-paced comedy that plays around with both series lore and the English language itself to magnificent effect. First thing on my slate, first thing I read, and first thing to make me laugh my guts straight out of my nose. The musical numbers themselves make little sense (not that anything in this story really makes sense), but being thestral-themed rewrites of West Side Story's musical numbers is curiously appropriate, given the behavior and the whole ethos of the thestralcorn race. So we'll let it slide.
Bless this story, bless its author, and bless the noble Dark Lord Shadow Ashes. Now someone hook me up with a blunt'a phoenix dust. I heartell it's a hell of a drug.
This story is brilliantly bad. It is clearly a crackfic, but it manages to simultaneously actually have some internal logic to it. Minions ineptly plotting is a deeply amusing trope and this story does a reasonable job with it, though I feel like it sometimes gets a bit tied up in itself, as noted by some other folks.
I did enjoy the Pinkie Pie punchline, but I feel like it was delivered awkwardly. Likewise, some of Limestone's lines were too long (I agree with >>FrontSevens WRT: the shorter line about getting off Holder's Boulder).
Where this story most struggles is in its construction; there's a lot of stuff about this story which would be funnier if it was tighter. In particular, the scene with Limestone Pie feels like it drags a bit until she starts shouting at them.
I did enjoy the Pinkie Pie punchline, but I feel like it was delivered awkwardly. Likewise, some of Limestone's lines were too long (I agree with >>FrontSevens WRT: the shorter line about getting off Holder's Boulder).
Where this story most struggles is in its construction; there's a lot of stuff about this story which would be funnier if it was tighter. In particular, the scene with Limestone Pie feels like it drags a bit until she starts shouting at them.
Sorry, author, but I couldn't muster up a whole lot of reaction to the humor here. Stick me in the corner with >>TitaniumDragon's "there's a lot of stuff about this story which would be funnier if it was tighter" and most of >>FrontSevens's analysis. Some of the short zingers, like the "plot" snarking and the swole argument, were great, but for the most part the joking here just felt too word-cluttered to land for me. I may be a bit of an outlier there.
Other things I liked: the West Side Story shout-outs; the clever headcanon (Holder in particular). Things I didn't: The plot of the story felt kind of disjointed — despite the wordiness of the jokes, it felt like there wasn't a whole lot of setup for them, just careening from punchline to punchline. Overall, I'm lukewarm, but I'm glad you're getting a good reception with others.
Tier: Almost There
Other things I liked: the West Side Story shout-outs; the clever headcanon (Holder in particular). Things I didn't: The plot of the story felt kind of disjointed — despite the wordiness of the jokes, it felt like there wasn't a whole lot of setup for them, just careening from punchline to punchline. Overall, I'm lukewarm, but I'm glad you're getting a good reception with others.
Tier: Almost There
Ahh, I get it. He was called Holder because he was holdin' the goods. Cheeky monkey. Most of the jokes, the pink finale in particular, went down well enough. Wobbly, but definitely not flat, on the macro scale of entertainment.
I think the beginning is brilliant, but it tuned down pretty quickly. I guess it comes down to the necessary tightening that's been mentioned several times in the comments now. I really loved the references to other universes, though, like Wormdeath (LotR) and Thestralcorn (HP). Very fun stuff, just stretched a bit too thin over the story's bones.
Oh for the love of Celestia, Luna and anypony else...
I was amused. I was quite actually amused from start to finish. I'm slightly ashamed of that, but here we are. What can you do about it? It's amusing comedy, a tiny bit of fun with the Pie Family and absolutely every Evil Overlord Trope in existence (Dr. Evil has already filed for a lawsuit, by the way. And Evil one).
Entertaining... and completely cracked.
I was amused. I was quite actually amused from start to finish. I'm slightly ashamed of that, but here we are. What can you do about it? It's amusing comedy, a tiny bit of fun with the Pie Family and absolutely every Evil Overlord Trope in existence (Dr. Evil has already filed for a lawsuit, by the way. And Evil one).
Entertaining... and completely cracked.
A very enjoyable piece of crackfic; well-written, with an interesting idea.
I do have one suggestion, take it as you will:
It might be better to replace the Pinkie Pie scene with a return to the thestralcorn cave, where they find out that Nightmare Moon really is gone and then try to figure out what to do with themselves (that would be an interesting lodge meeting...). It would fully resolve their arc and act as a bookend to the beginning, and Pinkie could show up somewhere to make some suggestions about what to do (perhaps she makes suggestions for a while before the thestralcorns realize there's an earth pony in their midst?).
I do have one suggestion, take it as you will:
It might be better to replace the Pinkie Pie scene with a return to the thestralcorn cave, where they find out that Nightmare Moon really is gone and then try to figure out what to do with themselves (that would be an interesting lodge meeting...). It would fully resolve their arc and act as a bookend to the beginning, and Pinkie could show up somewhere to make some suggestions about what to do (perhaps she makes suggestions for a while before the thestralcorns realize there's an earth pony in their midst?).
Rise of The 420: The Musical: The Retrospective
Thank you guys for reading and laughing for the most part. Comedy is hard, especially comedy that goes this far over the top. Based on the overall response I'll confess getting my hopes up a bit about making finals, but it is what it is. I think this will clean up fast for FimFiction; the gist of the feedback about what needs to change is that it should be tighter and punchier. As you might've guessed, I was struggling to get it up to 2K words for a while there; this will probably be optimally tight at around ~1700.
This was written entirely during the wee (and slightly less wee as the night went on) hours, well past the point where I figured it wouldn't be possible to get something in. It therefore reflects whatever high-octane stupidity was rattling around my brain at the time. But at risk of being self-indulgent, I woke up the next morning (really like an hour later) and read it and thought it was funny as hell. I still think it's funny as hell. So while you should never overdo things too much with a self-review, I figured this might be the one time to make an exception. Hence >>CoffeeMinion.
Also, in the grand sense, this is all >>Posh's fault for protesting my lack of submission. :-P I've no idea how serious that may or may not have been, but here we are, so thank you.
>>FrontSevens / >>Fenton - Excellent points all around, thank you.
>>TitaniumDragon / >>horizon / >>Rao - Very well, comrades; I'll roll the next one tighter. (lol 420 lol good jokes lol)
>>wYvern - Did I do a LOTR reference? Yes of course I did. That was intentional. These are not the droids you're looking for. Move on! :3
>>Novel_Idea / >>eusocialdragon - Very glad you enjoyed it!
>>Posh
Heh, I figured you figured I'd done that one. My brassy self-review here probably also helped throw off the trail. Winning!
...Or not. But hey, this one cleaned up faster than I thought, and the cover art came together in 10 seconds flat.
I dunno. I'm weird. But I'm glad to have somewhere to be weird with others.
Heh, I figured you figured I'd done that one. My brassy self-review here probably also helped throw off the trail. Winning!
...Or not. But hey, this one cleaned up faster than I thought, and the cover art came together in 10 seconds flat.
I dunno. I'm weird. But I'm glad to have somewhere to be weird with others.