So you might remember a little collab I decided to run a few weeks ago, under the title of The Scootaloo Throwing Championship. Well, the gay terrible dumb thing didn't take off, and I decided to pray to the one true god, Shrek, to ask what to do.

So after watching the first two Shrek movies (IE the good ones) while eating a bunch of Koolaid powder, a vision came to me. It was the gleaming form of Scootaloo herself. And I wanted to beat the shit out of her. So I started writing a story about it.

I am going to share with you the first part of this story. Tell me what it needs! Harder core, softer core, more Wii remote penetration, atrocious fourth wall jokes (lolno) and I will work to make you happy in the official release.

The Scootaloo Throwing Championship, Part One

Outside the little town of Ponyville, a massive new stadium stood tall and proud. Hordes of fans of all shapes and sizes flocked inside, from tiny fillies and colts armed with little felt Scootaloo ragdolls to grown stallions and mares, waving flags and wearing hats with cup holders on the sides and a shock of fake purple fur to imitate the look of the pegasus filly's mane.

And though they were all so different, they were brought together for one reason: The Scootaloo Throwing Championship!

"Hello, fillies and gentlecolts! I'm Mayor Mare, reporting live on this beautiful spring day for the fourth annual Scootaloo Throwing Tournament!"

"It's the Scootaloo Throwing Championship. I thought that as a diplomat you'd be smarter, but you're just another ignorant Earth pony."

The camera swiveled over to show Prince Blueblood in a chair next to the Mayor's. He wore a collar but no suit, as was his custom since Hoity Toity played that prank on him telling him it was the newest fashion. He toyed with a tiny figurine of Scootaloo, tossing it into a miniature basketball hoop. Mayor Mare furrowed her brow.

"Co-hosting with me is Prince Dickbreath Blueblood, the only member of Equestrian royalty to have his wings removed for being the most unpleasant piece of equine feces to walk the planet!" She said with a grin. Blueblood's eyes widened.

"I paid you two thousand bits not to say my first name!" He whispered.

"Your mom paid me thirteen thousand and a couple Changeling slaves to say it, and repeat what I just called you." The mayor grinned through her spectacles.

"Mama Luna said that?" Blueblood was shocked.

"Yeah, she and her sister. Now shut your faggot mouth and we'll start this."

"Oh, fine. This year we have a lot of changes to the program, haven't we, dear little menial, bottom-rung mudpony?" Blueblood asked.

"We most certainly do, you self-entitled magical bonerhead! Yes, after Discord's recent reform and the ascension of Twilight Sparkle, both of which were horrible and unnecessary, they have both chipped in to assist Zecora the zebra in the infirmary! Last year and the years before, contestants were limited in the damage they could cause Scootaloo, because she could become horribly injured or even die after too much trauma. However with overdoses of chaos magic and horrendous abuse of the Elements of Harmony, we now have the ability to completely revive her as many times as needed!" The mayor returned.

"Astounding!" Blueblood exclaimed. "In fact, I believe that's Scootaloo now, coming down the field there!"

The mayor and the prince looked down to the ovular field below. From a doorway on one side of the field, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy stepped onto the grass, carrying a large blue pillow with gold trim. The ponies onthe bleachers erupted into cheers: atop it was the filly of the hour, Scootaloo.

She didn't look very excited for the championship, though. She was quaking with fear and silently sobbing. She gripped the mangled stump where her right wing used to be, and breathed heavily in and out through her scarred lungs. In the three years she had been subjected to this torture and injury beyond her imagination. She had spent the previous night attempting to take her own life in the Cutie Mark Crusaders treehouse... unfortunately for her, a guard had been placed with her for fear of exactly that. Scootaloo was thrown off the pillow, right on the zero-yard line. Rarity held her hooves in place with a magic spell to prevent her escape.

"Our first competitor took home the gold last year in the distance category." Mayor Mare announced through a microphone. "It's... IRON WILL!" The crowd went ballistic, and the Canterlot Royal Orchestra played an aggressive fanfare suited to the minotaur from their special place in the bleachers. Scootaloo's pupils shrank to dots and her three remaining legs went limp.

"No... not... not Iron Will! Please! I'm just a filly! Rarity!" She turned to Rarity with steamy tears in her eyes. "Please, don't let him get me! I wanted to be in the Wonderbolts..."

Rarity yawned and filed her hooves while keeping Scootaloo in place. "Terribly sorry, Scootie. I'd pay good money to see a muscly hunk like him throw a ball around. Oh, and you're not a filly. Since Celestia filed that form last month, you're legally a vegetable. It got really Foal Protective Services off our case."

Scootaloo closed her eyes and begged for it to be over.

The crowd chanted the letters of Iron Will's name, and cheered with incredible vigor when he made his way to the field. He smirked, held his arms open and blew kisses to the audience's many mares. He made sure to wink at Rarity and cause her to faint. "Mental note," he whispered, "get the white one's number."

He lifted Scootaloo into the air and held her with one hand. "SINCE YOU ALL MISSED OLD IRON WILL..." he paused for emphasis, "I CAME BACK, AND I'M BACK FOR THE KILL!"

"There's the rhyme!" Blueblood squealed.

"Best part of his throw, every year." Mayor Mare commented.

Iron Will took Scootaloo's tail in his left hand and her head in his right. Letting go of the head, he began swinging the tail around. Scootaloo groaned in pain as she gained speed. Iron Will swung harder and faster until Scootaloo's groans escalated into horrified shrieks.

Prince Blueblood and Mayor Mare looked on.

"There can be no doubt about Iron Will's strength," said Blueblood, "but now he looks like he might be approaching Scootaloo's breaking point. A filly, I mean, vegetable, can only take so much stress before it-"

As if on cue, Scootaloo's front half ripped off of her body and rocketed forward. Clearly pleased, Iron will pumped his fist in the air. Scootaloo's front half screamed until her shredded lungs were empty as she flew down the football field, a stream of blood trailing behind her. Dirt and grass were thrown into the air when she hit the ground, skidding to a stop before the sixty-yard line.

"An impressive throw! However, Iron Will falls short of the record he set last year. Still, it'll be tough to beat!" Mayor Mare said through the microphone.

"Yes, and now Scootaloo will go through the infirmary. When we return, the world famous Flimflam brothers will take a shot! Some may know them from their bronze-medal win in last year's World's Most Unpleasant Pony awards show!"

Blueblood winked, holding up a gold medal.

Twilight and Discord were puffing some joints in the infirmary tent when Zecora walked in with Scootaloo's mane and tail in her teeth. The dying vegetable groaned as she pumped out the remainder of her blood.

"Here, I've brought the little twit. Take her now, she smells like shit." Zecora said. Discord's arms extended to grab Scootaloo, and he aligned the halves. He simply jammed them together like a jigsaw puzzle and twisted. Instead of fixing her, it just crunched her into an unrecognizable pile of bloody giblets. His tail reached up with some duct tape, and twizzled it around her until he had a ball of silver tape.

"Wanna do the honors, 'Princess?'" He asked Twilight with a grin. Twilight took a long drag on her joint and flashed her princessly forheadpenis on the ball. Immediately the tape unraveled and left a perfectly healed Scootaloo, sleeping like a filly (not the vegetable she was) with a Rainbow Dash plushie in contented bliss.

"Ah, pretty as the majestic bald eagle. Also put those smokes out... that shit's illegal." Zecora said.

"Fuck off, Zecora. We don't have time for your shit today." Twilight returned as Discord gave her the finger.

Flim and Flam entered the stadium to a welcome far different from that of Iron Will. Ponies booed and threw rotten fruits and non-Scootaloo vegetables. The two brothers wheeled out a large cannon of similar design to their Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000 and took the sleeping vegetable from Zecora. Flam handed Flim the plushie as he got out a ruler and measured Scootaloo.

"Prince Blueblood, would you care to explain why these two are getting such a poor reaction?" Mayor Mare asked. Blueblood nodded.

"Of course. You see, Mayor Mare, at last year's competition, Flim and Flam bent the rules nearly to their breaking point by using mechanical aids to assist them in getting Scootaloo as far as she'd go. By this, they managed to infuriate many fans, and take third place... for the second time that year..." he tapped his gold medal.

"Yes, but now with our improved healthcare technology, and Princess Cadence's speech about the true artistic nature of this sport, they are not kicked out this year, but rather provided with even more freedom." Mayor Mare continued.

"Some fans consider this a-" Prince Blueblood looked around behind him to see a Nintendo Wii, plugged into a flatscreen TV. "Hey, is that a Wii?" He asked.

"Yeah, dude. That's for the crew and athletes to play once the championship's over."

"You wanna play it?" Blueblood grinned.

"Totally." Mayor Mare went over, turned it on and they started playing. Meanwhile, Flim and Flam were gauging Scootaloo's properties.

"The vegetable's gotten heavier since last year, brother," said Flim. "If my calculations are correct, we'll lose to Iron Will again!"

Flam laughed. "Well, what do you do when you have too much of something?" He tapped a button on the side of the cannon, and an operating table complete with restraints and surgical tools slid out. "You cut some out, of course!"

"You sly devil!" Flim grinned, "And there I was thinking that you'd run out of surprises!" He gingerly placed Scootaloo on the table. The sound of bronze shackles clamping down on her woke the vegetable up.

"Where am I? I'm... I'm... okay? I don't feel the pain... I can breathe! My eyes work!" Scootaloo went into a fit of giggles, but then it dawned on her. She was still in the stadium. "Oh... aw..." she closed her eyes and started to cry.

"Alright then, brother, you administer the anesthesia and then I'll get to cutting. Nothing worse than a protesting vegetable." Flam muttered as he ran through the selection of scalpels. "Hmm... you can never find the right scalpel." A pink hoof picked up one of the tools and handed it to him.

"This shape's the best for getting right through the flesh!" Pinkie Pie bubbled. "Can I help you guys with this?"

Flim nodded with a smile as he jammed a hypodermic needle into Scootaloo's eye. "It would be a pleasure, Ms. Pie! My brother and I are very fond of your work, you know."

Pinkie gasped. "You like my work? But you two inspired me to do what I do! Back on the rock farm, when I read about you two in the crime papers, I smiled for the very first time!"

"Well, that must've taken a lot of detective work to trace our Appleloosa business back to us! Don't ever let anyone find out about that, the royal guard is still out for the Tingtang Twins' blood!" The three shared a friendly laugh as Scootaloo's body shook uncontrollably.

Not enough faggotry.

742185 Of course it'll get faggotier! Did you think I'd just add a warning label for pussies and pre-readers so they'd not have to see a friendly conversation between three serial killers? This is, like, one third of the finished fic. It gets way better!

Also. after I finish this I'm going to write a story where Big Mac gets a sex change and fucks all the stallions ever.

742265
Needs more something... Randomness, maybe? LSE why; peas complete douche, no yes maybe.

742684 I'm gonna be honest here: I don't even comprehend the second half of that comment. Explain in better detail pleaseandthanks.

743275
Randomness: ain't gonna explain it.

743438 Ah. Excellent then. Honestly, Iron Will and the Flimflam Brothers probably have the most predictable throws.

This is fucking amazing, I want to have your adopted babies you disgusting faggot.