In a homage to Al Chest Breach, chapter 6 contains this weird gem:
???: "Oh, he’s gone. And now you walk into the belly of the beast."
Jericho: "Um, who are you?"
???: "I am Marty, Marty Stew, the recon elite captain of this operation. I suspect you’ve heard of me before, that must be why you came, and I’ll tell you this: the stories they tell... are true."
Jericho: "Ah, so you can juggle."
: "Born under the sign of the eternal warrior I carve my way through these dark times, searching for something. Maybe an answer, or a cause, or just a real reason to fight. Who knows?"
Jericho: "That’s nice, but..."
Marty Stew: "Abandoned by my parents, I was raised by wolves. But not just any wolves, demon wolves. They taught me their ways, and so now I wander this world as a half-wolf, half-demon, half-dragonkin warrior."
Jericho: "Look, I’m pretty sure your math just added up to one-point-five—"
Marty Stew: "Don’t use your fancy mathematics to muddy up the issue here! I carved a path of destruction through this world, destroying all those who would harm the weak, and all those with non-liberal ideas."
Jericho: "Hey! That’s my line. Er, except for the part about killing those with different opinions. And aren’t you currently picking on the weak—"
Marty Stew: (Laughs) "I am a master of all forms of combat, and pretty much everything else I try with pretty much no explanation as to how. It has not been an easy life, no. I am transgendered—twice!—and am now forced to walk this land a stallion. Yet in spite of all this, all mares I come across fall in love with me... for seemingly no reason. Probably my dashing good looks."
Jericho: "Okay, that’s stupid. And wouldn’t that mean you were a stallion in the first place?"
: (Pokes Jericho) "Shouldn’t you be, I dunno, murdering him or something?"
: "I have been cursed with absolutely no character flaws, too! Except for a few token ones like, uh, bipolarism, insomnia, depression—only the cool ones. I am now forced to wander this world with absolutely no character development in sight.” Beat
“Oh, and I can speak to trees.
Jericho: "Are you making fun of me? You’re making fun of me, aren’t you!"
Marty Stew: (Smiles) "I sense that you are wondering why I’m here."
Marty Stew: "Well, strangers, in truth I’ve been tracking you for a... I don’t know, ’bout twenty minutes now. Your day of reckoning has arrived. So come, face the perfection that is... Marty Stew!”
Marty Stew sways his body, bending and unbending his knees and elbows as he breaks out into an off-key song.
Marty Stew, Marty Stew,
He’s a half-demon, half-wolf dragon king,
Marty Stew, Marty Stew...
Jericho: "N-no! You can’t sing—only I get to sing!"
Jericho, trying to divine future from waffles and maple syrup.
I grabbed my container of maple syrup and, still holding onto him, poured it over my waffles. With dark intent and darker expression, I leaned my face down until I was almost breathing in the waffle. “Hmmm,” I hummed with all possible interest. I focused, concentrated, and looked deep into the maple syrup. It only worked with maple syrup for a reason, after all. And then I saw it: visions of fire, brimstone, the end of the world, all that I loved dying, and—yeah, nothing I didn’t know. I groaned, “Oh, no, not that again.” I looked around the waffle, trying to find a prediction other than the tired, has-been prediction that I always saw when I gazed into my waffles and sought answers.
“What are you...?” Social Grace tried, and I shushed him hard.
“I’m looking into my waffle and trying to tell the future,” I replied. Cards kicked me again, harder, but I refused to let go of the buck.
“And, uh, what do they tell you?”
I shrugged. “Oh, the usual crap: the end of the world is near, it’s going to be fiery and people will die both brutal and pointless deaths, a holocaust of frost and fire that will bring everlasting torment upon the wicked and benevolent alike—same old, same old, really. Nothing to be worried about.” I blinked. “Waffles are known for being very dramatic, you understand, and they have a terrible grasp of scale. They see fiery armageddon, genocide, and the forced deflowering of all that is holy and sacred where a normal pony would only see soup that is too hot.”