Equustria
Ponies, meet Spike
In Philip's dream, the sun rose on a pastel, magical landscape to the accompaniment of a cheery jingle—the Rainbow Horsies theme music:
Hug the bunnies, save the trees
Helping friends with special needs
Saying no to drugs in school
You can be a princess too…
A cartoon filly with a dark lavender coat lay sprawled across a cotton-candy cloud, trickling peppermint blood and caramel diarrhea onto its absorbent puffs. Midnight Compromise, Philip remembered. That was her name.
"I have money!" she cried in her signature squeaky voice. "Take whatever you want. I won't tell a soul, I swear…" Her degenerating pleas were finally muffled by a gag-cum-bit improvised from a twisted towel. "Please, God, no…!"
Again Philip swung the hoof-pick—a heavy iron instrument—into her neotenous, googly eyes. Cartoon X's appeared in them. For a moment the reality around him wavered, and he found himself gazing down upon a mound of fleshy gristle, while the clouds on which they lay became ordinary hotel bed-sheets.
"What have I done?" he exclaimed, suddenly ashamed of his blood-smeared erection.
"Six voice actresses, all with their eyes gouged out," observed the detective. "Do you think this has to do with all that internet controversy over what's-her-name, the retarded, cross-eyed one?"
"Diversity," his partner replied, even though her official name had been retconned to Hershey Surprise. "Yeah, she was a fan favorite. Those Junior Jockeys sure are sick. Think about it—grown men jacking off to a TV show meant for little girls. Then they start dressing up in glittery costumes, until the next thing you know…"
"Murder," finished the detective. "Murder most foal."