• Published 24th Sep 2012
  • 4,241 Views, 128 Comments

Brief History: Side Stories - K9Thefirst1



Narrative pieces that don't fit the style of the Main Piece.

  • ...
2
 128
 4,241

April Fools 2013

The Governance Question

In the years immediately following The Great Warming, there was little in the way of an actual, central government. It was decided that that particular issue would come later, with a congress agreed to meet in five years time, to see if the three races could even live side-by-side, and forge a society. In the meantime the three tribes still needed to finish settling in to the land, and more importantly get used to the idea that the three races were now to live together. To do this, the three leaders acted in their own ways to help the situation along.

Chancellor Puddinghead stepped down from power, and helped organize get-togethers that would encourage inter-ration friendships, whose tones ranged, depending on how lucid she was while arranging them, from calm, dignified banquets that many of the Earth Pony Gentry and Unicorn Nobility found most enjoyable, to rowdy fracases that no sane parent would want their children attending.

In fact, the three common synonyms of such celebratory gatherings all come from the same Ancient Equestrian root word, each one from the connotation meant by the three types of celebration Puddinghead arranged: the kind that was calm, social, and acted as more of an especially large gossip event with the occasional Ball turned the root word into 'Soirée,' the more rambunctious, energetic gathering with cheap but tasty foods that focused on games, dancing to common music and having a good time descended from the root into 'party,' and the final type changed the word into the Modern Equestrian word the word 'orgy,' which had alcohol aplenty, and tended to result in either foals, or an epidemic of venereal disease, depending on who showed up. Given the population boom the records show in these three years, Puddinghead's last, in proportion to the cumulative population growth in the years previous, it can be reasonably speculated which type might have been the more popular.

And her parties were totally motherbucking RAD! With lasers and fog machines and LSD and Estacy flowing like motherbucking water!

Here's one of Pud's better parties.

See, the harvest just came in and the farmhands needed some fun and the bitches sum bangin'. Trouble is, they were all prudes and didn't have the guts to get down and jiggy. And then he walked in.

Commander Hurricane.

"Lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllladies."

There he was, just maxin' and chillaxin', giving mares orgasms just by winkin' at them, turning lesbos straight, making the barren preggers just by sayin' hi. Makin' Clover hot 'n' bothered 'n' wet and getting prepped for angy!sex but never getting it 'cause Hurricane respects mares oto much to be anger at 'er when they're sexing it up.

The really tall guy, he was up to no good. Started makin' trouble in the neighborhood. But Hurricane's momma was a total bitch so she didn't get scared 'cause her bitch ass was dead.

The guy? The slendermane.

Hurricane and Slendy stood, eye to eye, glaring at each other, his swag-ification field clashing against Slendy's Antiswagification field. Clearly, the only way to settle this was with a Swag Off.

By DANCING!

It cannot be described with words, but I think the best way to give you an idea was the effect, which was that Slendermane became Slendermare.

They then made sweet sweet sex.

And then Celestia, in her bitchy, PMS Phase in life came, and Mimic and Talonhoof were totally making out they were so drunk.

And then they all fucked.

------

With a choke and a snort, Twilight Sparkle sputtered into wakefulness. Looking to her left, then her right, the ascended unicorn looked down at her desk at the unfinished manuscript before her. Rubbing her eyes, the mare grumbled under her breath.

"I've been working too hard on this." she thought.

She looked to the corner of the desk with all her secondary and copies of primary sources, loading down on the wood so much that it groaned and creaked in tortured protest.

"That's it. No more writing past midnight."