Reviews:

R3v4nch15t: By 'M5' I meant 'M5'. Next tacticool gen of M4. Or some shit like that, dunno.
And yes, I'm still accepting OCs of any species/gender/race/purple.

Dragon'z Wrath:
Mark: Not the tank of the group, anymore. *pats 'Crocodile'* That goes to rollin' flamethrower here. But Blake is still the most heavily armored walker... And one of two of us with a shotgun.

LexiconHuka: Sorry, Molestia sat on it.

ShiningShadow1965: Thanks for more reviews!

iTsTealblast: Yep.

stevemcgarret: Think I added you to Divided Path.

whovian803: Yep.

Author's Note: Guis, I have a little headcanon that's being added to the story; Poison Joke affects humans in one way; turning them into a species in My Little Pony. Once they've turned and get the antidote bath, they're able to switch back and forth at will, like Mark does.

All you gotta do is tell me what you want your OC to turn into, gender(if not specified I'll pick randomly), and colors (if pone/dragon).

And fucking keep it realistic; I'm not having Blake (example) turn into a fifty goddamn foot dragon all willy nilly.

So far the list of humans that can turn is rather short;
Mark: Sand Dune
Max(RenaTamer): Male Sunbutt
Huka(LexiconHuka): Buffalo.

"We're ready to leave." Max said about two minutes later, the stare down between us and the hostile zebras still taking place.

"Gather up some willing families with foals and leave with them." I said, glancing over the crowd. "And once you get inside, yell out 'time for part of the debt to be repaid'."

"Why do you want me to do that?" Max asked in confusion.

"Failsafe I had in place incase something like this happened. Get on it." I replied, returning my attention back to the ranks of zebras.

'Of all the times I didn't bring grenades...' I muttered to Apple, who was still in my pocket.

'At least your body armor keeps you from getting hit in the chest by an arrow.' She replied. 'Only reason I'm not going back home, myself.'

'They won't pierce your shell. It'll hurt like a bitch, but it'll bounce off.' I said, grinning as the zebras went inside, and the door started closing. Right before the Galaxy took off, I was barely able to see about fifty flies land within our ranks.

"You all might want to just leave." I growled at the zebra in charge of the enemy. I could tell he was the leader since he was less hungry than the others.

"What makes you think we will, freak?" He snarled, cocking a crossbow and aiming it at me.

"Even numbers and superior training." I answered without hesitation.

"Hah! You only have fourty zebras and whatever you freaks are! We have over a hundred zebras!" He laughed, before shooting me. Instead of piercing my skin like he thought it would, the arrow shattered as it struck my projectile-proof (up to sniper round) vest.

"Return fire!" I yelled, letting bullets go flying as I crouched behind a overturned barrel to let the stand for my M60E4 help hold it up. "Avoid the civilians!"

Bullets went flying, and suddenly there were fifty 'Ranger' changelings among our ranks, letting off magical blasts. All of the changelings were outfitted with salt water tanks and masks, both giving them a source of food and extra protection at a cost of reduced mobility.

"Watch out!" A voice yelled out, causing me to turn in time to see an arrow whizzing into my throat.

[3rd Person]

"The General's hit!" Hill yelled over the roar of the BAR one of the tank crew was using.

"Cover me!" Thompson yelled, crouch-running towards the man who had an arrow sticking out of his neck. The others who were still standing fired at any zebra who aimed even remotely close towards the medic.

When he skidded to a stop, a changeling young'un slapped Mark's head, leaving a red welt.

'Stay awake daddy!' She cried out mentally, shaking him a little more.

"Stay with us Goddammit!" Thompson hissed, digging out some gauze and pressing it against the wound.

"Can't breath too well..." Mark wheezed out, feebly reaching for his sidearm.

"Shut up goddammit, your windpipe's been punctured." Thompson grunted, holding down Mark's arm. "I gotta move you, because it's too dangerous to fix your ass up here." To reinforce this statement, a few arrows whizzed half an inch over Thompson's head.

"Somebody fucking detain the guy who fired those arrows!" Andrews yelled, taking command since he was the highest ranking human fighting at the moment. "I bet our Kraut friend will love having him as a prisoner!"

One of the little known facts is that while Schmidt doesn't usually enjoy torture, he will do it to somebody who kills or almost kills a medic. One of the things that happened a lot on the Eastern Front.

"I got him!" Blake yelled, popping a few bullets from a M1 Carbine into the legs of a backtracking zebra.

"Somebody help me get Mark to cover!" Thompson yelled, and three Ranger changelings came to his aid.

"We'll move him." They said. Thompson nodded and helped get Mark onto their backs, before running with them behind a wall about a hundred feet away.

"Wall of fire on the enemy!" Andrews yelled, causing Moore and Hill to climb back into the 'Crocodile' to carry out his orders.

"Fuck!" Blake yelled, dropping his thompson to clutch at a arrow sticking out of his chest.

"Blake!" Legaski yelled, rushing towards the second lieutenant as he sunk to his knees, before hitting the ground, dead.

"He's dead Legaski! Get on that fifty and give 'em hell!" Andrews yelled, before taking an arrow to the face.

"Goddammit! Stay the FUCK BEHIND COVER!" First lieutenant Blake yelled, frowning behind his mask at the fact that he suddenly had to protect this strip of land for two days.

"'Crocodile' ready for duty." Moore said as the tank lurched forward, the barrel spewing out death by fire. An unsuspecting zebra was caught in the flames, screeching as he was cooked to death. As the tank rolled forward, Legaski took the time to crawl onto the top of it and load up the .50 machine gun to use it.

"Laying down suppressing fire!" Legaski yelled out, pressing down the trigger and letting a spew of bullets go out the end of the barrel. If he were to hold the HMG like a normal weapon, it would be promptly rising like a bullet-spewing erection. The zebras were forced to take cover, and found out that whatever they hid behind would either be ripped to shreds by machine gun fire or set alight by the flamethrower.

"They're retreating!" Blake yelled after sticking his head out from behind a wall, his helmet more than enough to deflect an arrow.

"Should we go after them, sir?" Legaski called out.

"No. Regroup and hold down the fort. We're here to distribute food and medicine, not go after zebra clans." Blake said as he reloaded his AA-12 and .357 revolver.

"Yes sir." Legaski said, sliding off of the tank and started helping the others move the dead and wounded.

[Mark's POV]

"Ugh... Dawn?" I groaned, noticing the red and black alicorn standing over me, wearing a slight frown.

"He's hallucinating!" A voice yelled out. "I need an IV! That second arrow struck his femoral artery!"

"They can't see me, Mark." Dawn said with a small shake of his head. "Not when I'm like this; only the dying can see me."

"You've come to take me away?" I questioned. Apple looked down at me with worry crossing over our mental link.

"...Not you." He sighed. "You're teetering on the line as to where I would, though. I've come for some of the tank crew. Blake and Andrews."

"Shit..." I sighed, looking over at the bodies that were laid down next to each other. What was really startling was that there were copies of them sitting on the bodies.

"Those are their souls." Dawn explained. "If you died, that's how you would look, too."

"Christ..." I sighed, before looking at the people working on me. It was Zecora, one of the ponies that stayed behind since she was a nurse, and Thompson. Dawn and everyone else started to fade from my vision.

"Have a nice rest, Mark." Dawn said, before turning to Blake and Andrews. "I know you need it."

"See you in whenever..." I muttered, before passing out.

'Why stand up when you could sit down?
Why sit down when you could lie down?
Why stay awake when you could let your ass fall asleep to catch up on missed hours?
Why sleep alone when you could sleep next to the dicks that are your squadmates, just waiting to pour hot sauce down your throat?' Mark on being lazy in a patrol.