Chapter Text
“Counting or not counting gang violence?” The shot rang out, then everything went black. Charlie Kirk woke up to a beam of sunlight peaking through the branches of a tall and sturdy apple tree. He had apparently fallen asleep leaning against it though he didn’t remember how he got here. He reached his neck out to assess the area, but he quickly noticed that his neck seemed to be a lot longer than he thought.
“So you’re the varmint that' s been eatin’ up all my apples?” A horse stood over Charlie, she had a thick southern accent. Her fur was bright orange like the skin of his secret lover, Donald Trump. Her hair was blonde, flowy, and thick, but Charlie couldn’t tell if this horse was wearing a wig (like his secret lover did). She stared down at him waiting for an answer, the brim of her tan cowboy hat threw shadows over her eyes, only making her more intimidating.
“I didn’t eat your apples”, she nickered at this response. She backed up towards a nearby tree and with her back legs she kicked the tree hard enough that every apple fell down. She walked back toward Charlie and stared at him even more. He began to sweat under the scrutinous eye of this mysterious horse that seemed to remind of his secret lover.
“Alright then, I believe ya. But you better get on outta here, partner.” She began to trot away when she stopped suddenly and looked back at him. “Just so you don’t end up here again, Ponyville is thataway”. She nudged her muzzle towards the opposite direction she was headed. She turned her head back and muttered under her breath something about Charlie being a pain in the neck. He looked out in the direction she motioned towards and saw the faint outline of a small, but colorful city.
“Wait a minute, what the hell is Ponyville?” Charlie waited for a response, but when he turned his long neck he realized that the mysterious pony was gone.
He started to stand up, planning to find someone that could help him figure out where he actually is, how he got here, and most importantly how to get back to debating college kids as a fully grown man. He quickly realized that he was having a very difficult time standing up, and for the first time he looked down at his legs. Instead of the legs he had become used to, after having them for over 30 years, he saw furry, tan horse legs covered almost completely by large dark blue suit pants which were attached to a horse torso, which in turn was somehow attached to him. A million thoughts raced through his head, he rubbed his eyes trying to somehow get out of the dream, but when he reached his hands up towards his face to rub his eyes he quickly and painfully realized that they weren’t hands, but hooves! He immediately straightened his arms only to see the same tan fur peaking out the sleeves of a dark blue jacket, and out of the sleeves of the jacket, where his hands should be, instead there were large hooves connected to his wrists. Charlie closed his eyes tightly, wishing and praying and hoping that he would wake up and get out of this weird dream. He tried his best to calm his mind, and remember what he was doing before he ended up here.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore everything crazy going on and he finally remembered what happened to him. He was debating some teenagers, there were cameras and security, all things that professional podcasters need when they go out in public. He remembered that morning, walking through Utah Valley University, triggering the woke liberals and leftists. He remembered the whole debate, the woke snowflakes running away crying back to their transgender fathers. He even remembered how the last question he answered with another question, counting or not counting gang violence. He even remembered thinking to himself that the wokemind virus couldn’t survive that question, and then. Charlie finally remembered what happened, he had gotten shot in the neck. He remembered everything fading to black and he remembered hearing the voices of people yelling and screaming all around him, until there was nothing. But he couldn’t be dead, he’s Charlie Kirk! He should be parading around, an experienced debater picking on teens, he should be making the world a more divided place!
“This must just be a weird coma dream, and I bet I just need to debate the wokest liberal here, and maybe I’ll wake up!” Charlie immediately got a spark of hope in his heart and rushed to get into the city to find the wokest liberal.
The spark of hope was gone almost as quick when he tried to stand and failed. He was quickly reminded of the difficulties of maneuvering a horse’s body as opposed to a human’s. He awkwardly shuffled and twisted until he managed to find himself standing tall on all fours. His horse legs were shaky, and obviously he was very inexperienced at being a horse. He began his journey towards the snowflake-filled city. He was very slow and unsure as he started, but as he kept walking, he kept getting better, until he was walking less like a newborn foal and more like an elderly stallion. Finally he was off towards Ponyville, towards the wokest liberal, towards being a professional podcaster once more.