Scootaloo Works at KFC *SNEAK PEAK* · 8:01pm Apr 10th, 2017
The restaurant's interior was mundane yet a compliment to the feast that laid before Cutie Mark Crusaders. Never before had they seen such a wide assortment of corn, mashed potatoes, potato wedges, fried potato sticks, and gravy. It was a feast to die for, a feast that would make the bearded man (who was currently in the process of turning Coke-Cola into Pepsi) and his followers jealous, for all they had was bread.
The CMC had bread too, with meat sandwiched between, the way bread should be presented. But this was unusual meat. It was the first time Equestria had ever gained such a commodity. This meat was called chicken. Chicken is a crispy, crunchy, mushy substance that taste like the charcoal remains from a grill. It comes from the animal known as chickén. After eating a gratuitous amount of seeds, the chicken will produce a crispy, crunchy, mushy substance from their anal canals. Chicken is often bony and there never seems to be enough meat on it. There's also a substance in the bone called marrow, which is not to be used as a vegetable. Goddamn liberals.
Sweetie Belle was smothering her face with the chicken. She was not eating it, she was literally smothering it against her face, the grease giving her that natural complex that would only come from cosmetic appliances. Applebloom was eating the chicken. It seemed like every bite she took she became the equivalent of a drunk and had her vision doubled. It seemed like every bite she took became the equivalent of a slam dunk and her score doubled. Scootaloo was eating it. Just eating it. The way a chickén should.
But Applebloom and Sweetie Belle didn't think so. They found it weird. "Um... Scootaloo?" said Sweetie Belle, slapping chicken grease all over her face and smothering it like lotion. 'You're doing it wrong."
Scootaloo stopped eating and put her drumstick down. "What do you mean?" she said.
"You gotta dab it in the right places to give your body that natural complexion."
Scootaloo stared.
Sweetie Belle scared.
The bearded man the next table over thought over how he was going to get out of paying the bill. "I'm Jesus Christ," he said, then dropped the metaphorical mic and left the building. Judas clinched his fist.
.
This is the most perfect thing I have ever laid my eyes on.