"We've been looking for you, Rarity," said the toothpastey girl, her tone overly cheerful. "Centuries of experiments, careful breeding, desperate searching... To create the perfect human so that we may understand them better!"
"....I'm the perfect human?"
Unsure how to react to this unexpected compliment, Rarity smiled, then frowned. She tried doing both at the same time.
"We've found the chosen one," sang the one with the mohawk, her outstretched hood giving her a very klansman-like appearance. "Which means that we have won."
"Th-the chosen one," stuttered the pudgy woman. "I *knew* the p-p-perfect human could only begotten from an equally perfect ship."
She reached below her cowl, fidgeting with something on her face. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses briefly revealed themselves before disappearing again.
"Rarijack? A perfect ship? Pleeeease," berated the tall figure. "You're just grasping at straws."
"Hang on," said Rarity. "I beg your pardon, but I am *not* comfortable with you talking about my lover and I in that manner..."
Rarity shook her head.
"...A-and I'm the one asking questions here anyway! What does my perfection have to do with me dreaming about Applejack every night??"
The hooded figures roared in maniacal laughter.
"You see," the toothpastey girl chided, "centuries ago, our kind fought many bloody wars over which Equestria Girls ship is the OTP."
"O-T-P," corrected the tall figure. "One True Pairing."
"The wars, they were vicious. We lost many things precious... to us."
"That didn't rhyme," noted Rarity.
"Yo, get off my back," said the mohawk lady. "You ain't even black."
"That didn't rhyme, either."