Wait… target species? Am I not going to be a human? I really hope that’s not what that meansįuck, that’s totally what it means, isn’t it? And it looks like I am done here, if that slowly growing light encroaching on my vision is any indication. Setting physical attractiveness for target species to upper thirty percent of the curve. Setting height to fifty percent above average of target species population. I rather like being at least a solid seven, thank you very much. And please, for the love of whatever is running this show, don’t let me be ugly. Being tall would be nice-well above average, preferably. I suppose it would be nice to not be a man-let this time around. Okay, then, maybe I should just try to go for something relatively harmless, so I don’t put my other foot in my mouth. In any case, it seems like I am going to have a very interesting life ahead of me. Also, what the fuck is an Equestria? I may be an American, but I do not think that is a place that exists. Honestly, it’s a miracle I haven’t gone and gotten myself hit by a… well, shit. Touche, reality… touche. Sometimes, I have to wonder how I manage to keep myself out of trouble. Warning, request brings conditions of reincarnation to Danger Rating Class Four. Average Danger Rating: Class Three-threats infrequent, but considerable. Setting arrival date and location for Equestria, fourth Iteration. Searching for location with requested conditions. I think I would enjoy it if I could ride that ol’ Chinese curse and live in interesting times. but, also somewhere where the opportunity to really become someone better than what I am… that I was. Now, I think I would like to live somewhere relatively calm. Y’know, the robotic tone I’m getting here is really giving me some of that paranoia fodder for my nagging sensation that life is a simulation. Acknowledged, Past-Life Retention granted. Acknowledged, Post-Birth Reincarnation granted. I would also like to keep all of my knowledge of my past life, to be honest. If this is how all of this works, I would like to reincarnate in my twenties-fuck all that ‘being a kid’ again shit. I suppose I get some leeway with what happens from here. I think I get seven requests, since the disembodied voice says I have six remaining. So, if I am dead, and not hallucinating from whatever good shit I’d presumably be getting on my ambulance ride, it looks like I am about to be reincarnated. Metaphysical interaction granted for upcoming reincarnation.Īlright, what the fuck was that? Or, rather, what is that in front of me? It appears to be some sort of checklist-the thing that the voice mentioned scrawled down for me to see. I wish there was some way for me to reach out and touch things without arms. Is this being dead? Because, if so, this kinda sucks. or any part of my body anymore.Ĭome to think of it, I cannot really feel where I end and the dark expanse around me begins. I say, ‘where they used to be,’ not because they were totally obliterated by the incompetent fuckwad who was driving the bus way over the city speed limit ( which they certainly the fuck were), but because I can no longer really see them. All I get to have is the extreme shame of my up-and-coming Darwin Award for tripping over and falling into the street at the wrong time… which is why I find myself here with a heavy ache in my ribs or, at least, where they used to be. I can’t even get that bit of dramatic irony going to spice my death up. Not even the bus I was waiting for, either. In blunt terms: I was hit by a fucking bus. An uncomfortable situation, if I am to put it lightly. Y’see, not more than a few minutes ago, I was unfortunately put into a bit of a pickle. Unfortunately, that is all going to have to be put on hold. And, maybe, you might get an understanding of the driving forces that motivate me, as a person. You might even get to meet a few friends that probably won’t show up again. You might get a small glimpse into my personal life. Y’know, under normal circumstances, this would, most likely, be where you would get to know me a little better.
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