It was a normal day like no other. I’d talk about the weather and establish the setting and whatever, but I was inside with a bunch of people and couldn’t care less if it was dark and stormy. So here I was, in the middle of an anime convention that you probably never heard of, wearing my hipster glasses. Oh, and I was crossplaying as Sakura from Naruto!
Oh yeah, crossplaying. It’s crossdressing and cosplaying, if you can believe that. So yeah, I was a dude dressed as an anime chick. It’s a long story, but it involves losing a bet:
”Hey man, I bet that Chun Li girl is gonna win the contest,” I said as I pointed toward the crowd of ladies on stage, waiting for their half of the Annual Cosplay Dual Competition.
My friend, Kyle Purrvert, chuckled. “Riiiight, I’m totally betting on the Katara cosplayer. She has better legs.”
I sighed. “What is it with you and female limbs? We all know the charm of a lady is in the eyes!”
“And boobs.”
“Yes, and the boobs. Always the boobs.
“Always. Oh, and if you lose, you totally have to cosplay as a chick.”
“You’re on.”
The announcer on stage opened the envelope at his podium. He raised an eyebrow at the waiting crowd and cleared his throat. “And the winner is… Katara!”
“Yes!”
“Shit!”
So that’s how it happened. I lost the bet, and now I was dressed as everyone’s childhood crush. What is it with little boys and liking useless girls? Sakura doesn’t do anything but have a crush on Sasuke—oh, that’s why. Total damsel in distress. Tsk tsk, and I thought Kyle had no taste.
This convention was as normal as far as anime conventions go. Dozens of people dressed as their favorite anime character was walking around. One guy decided to be cheeky and dressed as Bart Simpson, but a few yakuza cosplayers took him to the corner and was currently kicking him on the ground. Serves him right, filthy casual.
As I wandered the aisles of the Con, with people pointing and laughing, my ‘friend’ Kyle jogged up to me, holding a plate.
“Here,” he panted, handing me a plate of steaming spaghetti. “Fresh from the food court. For you buddy, the food of my people.” He arched his back and yawned, showing off his t-shirt with some blue horse on it. He was a brony, and pretty normal as they came. Well, normal for bronies that is. He writes fanfiction about them, usually about romance and stuff, and pretty much sucks at it. I don’t get it, why guys thinks it’s okay to write about cartoon horses. Hell, Kyle even ships these ponies! That’s weird! He needs to learn how to be a real man. I thought more about this as I ate the spaghetti and played with the hem of my red dress.
Good lord, this spaghetti was amazing. It was so into it, I accidentally ran into some mushy mounds: boobies!
“Hey, watch it perv!” some girl screamed as I spilled some of my spaghetti on her. I looked up from my ambrosia and recognized the Katara girl that had ruined my bet and forced me into this amazing get-up. Part of her blue robe thingy was covered in red sauce, particularly the chest area, giving her the appearance of a pizza.
I stuck my tongue out, then continued to shove some spaghetti in my mouth. “No, you,” I said, spouting words of wisdom I learned from the internet. This only served to piss her off further, rather than pacify her as I hoped.
“Oh hell no!” she said, snapping her fingers thrice in a z-formation and wiggling her hips. “I know you girly-ass nerd types, crossplaying and shit! You just dress up so you can talk to ladies, and when you get shot down, you blame it on your clothes instead of yourself!”
The crowd watching us let out a ominous ”Oooooh!!!
I took in a deep breath as I ate another bite of spaghetti. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that air force two needed to land and drop a big bomb. Once I gulped down another bite of spicy goodness, I prepared to do something that nobody ever dares do to the face of a sassy woman.
“Ah hell no!” I parroted, doing the princess snap and throwing out my hips. “I’m a strong independent nerd who doesn’t need no woman! Now get out of my way so I don’t have to go jinchuuriki on your ass!” Of course, that was Naruto, but it wasn’t like an Avatar cosplayer would catch that. Sakura, if I hadn’t mentioned before, is completely useless.
“Nuh uh, no you di-in’t,” she said, responding to my fellow sass and wiggling her index finger. She took a back stance and threw her hands out, to the awe of the crowd. “Now I’m going to water whip your ass!”
Now was my time to shine.
I crouched down, assuming my battle stance, and held my plate of spaghetti in front of me. The rumbling in my stomach became a deafening roar as a strange heat surged through my body. Maybe it was my imagination, but blue energy began to swirl in a circle around my feet.
I closed my eyes.
”WIND BREAKING JUTSU!’ I screamed as a ripped a big one, fueled by half dish of spaghetti, intending to piss off the Katara cosplayer. Unfortunately, my brony friend really knows how to whip up the spices, making my gastrous expulsion of methane gas a little more forceful than I was going for. I, Chad Kreepypurve, became the first man in history to travel through time and space.
By breaking wind through the universe.
To be fair, it was a big one, but nobody expects their lack of restraint to be punished with a warp through space-time. A flash of colors, a LSD trip, and now here I was, in front of some weird cartoon pony in some weird cartoon fashion store, crossplaying as Sakura. I wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed, confused, or trying to get a look at that diamond ass.
I mean, just look at it!
The horse stared at me, her eyes wide and her jaw hanging low. She tried to speak, but nothing but a whimper came out. I think she was in awe of the sexy beast that had blown into her home. Literally.
I was disorientated, but the magical spices of the spaghetti gifted me with proper cognition.
She wasn’t so bad either. Her hair (or did horses have manes?) was a nice sapphire/lavender mix, curled to perfection. Long eyelashes, decent eyeliner and mascara, and a complexion to die for. Legs that went all the way up, a rather long and groomed tail, and ass that would put Kim Kardashian to shame.
I decided to break the ice and bowed on one knee. “I thank thee lord almighty for delivering me to such divine beauty. Before me is a goddess, and I pledge my service to thee.” I opened a single eyes, noticing she was holding a hoof to her mouth, and grinned. Girls loved crappy lines like that, right? Since she wasn’t wearing any clothes from what I could see, I wouldn’t know if I had dropped a panty-dropping line. Or maybe the fact that she was already naked was a testament to my legendary skill.
I mean, who wouldn’t want a piece of this three hundred pounds of pure man! I mean, I’m sexy! I got a beard that goes all the way up my neck, I’m crossdressing as the coolest twelve year old in anime ever, and I have my own room in my parents basement that’s perfect for lovemaking! Ladies love me!
Especially this one; she was all over me! In fact, she had her hooves on my cheeks and staring face to face with me. If I leaned an inch forward, we could make out. I wanted to, but I needed to ask her something.
“May I have the name of the goddess I speak to?” I asked, bowing my head. The girl horse gasped.
Sexy legs finally decided to speak. “It’s R-Rarity. It’s nice to meet you. But...y-you’re dressed strangely,” she said, stuttering a bit. “I’ve never seen a lady dress like this before.” She looked up, staring at my pink wig. “Such nice bubblegum hair… just like Pinkie’s, but fabulous…” She bit her lip and looked down at me. “We have to hide you.”
This took me back. I mean, I get it. I’m, like, an alien or something. Except most aliens are weak to stuff like water, sunlight, and teenagers with bad acne. I had a more… conventional weakness: babes.
I gulped and said, “Uh, why? Am I that awesome? I didn’t mean—”
“Shh…” she whispered, placing a hoof on my lips and silencing me. Her lips were nearly on her hoof, nearly touching mine. Her eyelids drooped, giving her an expression that said—”You’re mine…”
Many things went through my head. The fact that a female had basically said she wanted my favorite appendage. The fact that I was being hit on by a cartoon horse. The fact that I still had a steaming plate of half-eaten spaghetti in my right hand I conveniently forgot about. Then I thought about how who’d win the Super Bowl, and why we wear underwear underneath our clothes instead of outside like superheroes. And then I thought about how Lost ended, which confuses me to no end. Then I thought about what I could respond with to this horse’s claim. One response stuck in my head; it was clever, sophisticated, intelligent, and bound to make her weak at the knees.
“Wut.”
“Shh!” Rarity jumped to my side and wrapped her forelegs around my neck, pushing her cheek against mine. “They’ll hear you…”
Deciding to play her game, I whispered back, “Who’s ‘they?’”
The girl horse leaned forward and scanned her home (probably some fashion boutique of sorts), before whispering, “I think they’re watching.”
I nodded, thinking of a bunch of spy movies I had seen. “And who is watching?”
“The fashion police,” the white (or is it alabaster? I honestly couldn’t tell) horse whispered. “They’ll want you. They’ll call you a fashion disaster, but I see you for what you truly are. The world isn’t ready for you yet, but I’ll make them!”
This caught me by surprise. I turned toward her, nearly brushing her lips with mine, and replied. “Ready for what?”
I should not have said that.
The horse placed her lips right on my cheek, quite sensually so, and said, “Your new fashion—”
“FREEZE! FASHION POLICE!” A few random winged horses jumped out of the furniture, holding fellow horned ponies (unicorns?) like machine runs. The unicorns had bemused expressions, but the pegasi(?) looked like business. They were heavily armored, with gold, and their faces were more rigid than the girl here. I guessed they were dudes, but then again the masculine voice should have told me that anyway.
I stood up and slapped my knee in laughter. “Oh my gosh, you’re using horses for guns? What are you going to do? Neigh me to death?” My wit, unfortunately, came to bite me in the ass.
One of the pegasi pulled on his partner’s tail, causing a ka-klink noise and a shotgun shell flew out of the unicorn’s ear.
“Shit,” I whispered.
The pegasus grunted, holding his armed and ready partner. “You’re under arrest for crimes against fashion! It’s illegal to cosplay as a woman!”
I crossed my arms, indignant. “And if I am a woman?”
The pegasus grunted again. “Still illegal. It’s not your gender, bro, you just uglyyy.
Yeah, he was getting it. Later though, when I wasn’t surrounded.
I looked inside the building, but all the escapes were blocked. There were flashing blue and red lights outside the door, a whirling noise and light just outside the balcony, and shuffling noises in the ventilation. Every exit was blocked.
There was only one thing to do. If we were going to survive, I was going to have to take drastic measures. It was brave, daring, and sexy to do. I took a battle stance (after putting my spaghetti down, of course), formed the correct hand sign and shouted, “Shadow clone jutsu!”
Nothing happened.
I rolled my eyes and picked up my spaghetti as the fashion ops started creeping toward us. As the unicorn horns began sparking up for some good ol’ guns ablazing, I started shoveling in the spaghetti like my life depended on it. Once my lard of a stomach felt full, I tossed the plate to the side.
“Bring it on, horsey!” I shouted as the unicorn-loaded pegasus fired his first shot. I dived at the ground into a roll.
A very slow roll. As awesome as I was, I was still three hundred pounds. My shoulder caught on the ground, and I spent a good five seconds grunting and pushing with my legs. Finally overcoming gravity, I managed to fall over onto my back. Panting, I rolled over and pushed myself off the ground and onto my knees. I wiped myself off and stood up. Man, being awesome is tiring. The pegasus guard frowned in pity, as if my awesomeness was a handicap rather than the awesome it actually was.
Time for a change of plans.
I picked up the surprised unicorn at my side. She brought me into this, and she was helping me out. I crouched down and felt a big one coming, putting my hands together to channel my chakra. I gagged, grunted, and felt a rock drop in muh belly. Then, I shouted:
”Hurricane Jutsu!”
Thanks to my magical ass powers (apparently), my fart propelled us into the air. My chakra formed a blue shield around us, blasting us through the roof without any harm. The girl pony, Rarity, screamed bloody murder as we flew into the sky above the cartoon town and headed to the creepy ass forest, but we were safe.
For now.
...
...
…
And no, I didn’t do a f*cking barrel roll. What do you think I am, stupid?