//------------------------------// // Turns out Liquor Stores are closed on Sunday in Texas, So I’m Sober Now Unfortunately. // Story: Tempest Shadow and the Legend of the Alchoholic Bread // by Super Trampoline //------------------------------// “Inspector Javert?!” all three fillies gasped at once. Apple Bloom followed up. “You mean from Les Mis? I love that musical! I have a shrine to John Valve John in my room. I want him to plow my fields!” Tempest gagged. “Jesus fuck, what the hell! First story Super manages to publish with me in it, and it’s a total fucking shit show! Just, what the actual fuck, Apple Bloom, what the fuck. You’re a fucking filly. He’s like... at least forty at the start of the novel. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are we having this conversation? Why am I in this shitty-ass story? Where’s the nearest liquor store so I can forget this fucking conversation and get shloshed? Aughhhh!!!” The CMC watched in discomfort. Applebloom whispered to her comrades, “This is getting weeeird.” Scootaloo whispered back, “You’re one to talk. Fucking Humie.” Tempest took a deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry. That was uncalled for. Can I finish the story?” “I really like your mane!” Sweetie Belle squeaked. Tempest looked at her with a squint. Apple Bloom spoke up. “Please excuse her; she’s retarded.” Twilight Sparkle suddenly jumped from the bushes. “Hey, come on. You can’t just call ponies retarded! You should know better, AB!” “Twilight, fuck off; you’re not even in this fucking story. Just once, pull the God damn stick out of your ass, just this once, okay?” “Yeah, well fuck you too, asswipe. I hope Scootaloo’s parents start abusing you too.” Tempest shadow observed the exchange uncomfortably. “Okay, seriously, is Super Trampoline okay? He’s usually not like this?” Twilight shadow flipped them all off with a wing and skulked back to the bushes. Apple Bloom apologized. “Sorry about that. Ever since I fucked up a potion last week, Starbutt’s been really riding my ass with her PC strapon.” “Yeah, okay, whatever? Can I finish my fucking story?” “Please do.” Tempest threw her empty Applejack Daniels into the air and exploded it with a burst from her horn. The three fillies oohed and Ahhed. “Okay, so, Inspector Javert was there, and kept singing about wanting me to bring him a sandwhich. I think he was drunk or something. I tried to reason with him, tried to explain to him that I was in the process of creating alcoholic bread, but didn’t have sandwich supplies yet. But he wouldn’t have any of it. He kept speaking gibberish, and it looked like he was getting angrier. I started to back away, but then he pulled out a gun, and shot me. I fired a desperate deflection shield, but the bullet glanced off of it, and instead of lodging itself into my head, it broke in two. One shard glazed my face, giving me this sick-ass scar around my eye. But the main fragment shattered my horn and my sense of identity.” The fillies gasped. “Oh my gosh! I had no idea!” Apple Bloom sputtered. “Dude, that’s metal as fuck!” Scootaloo shouted. “I really like her mane!” Sweetie Belle chirped. Again her friends stared at her with sad condescension. “So yeah, after that, I hoof stomped Inspector Javert to death. They had to get a robotic replacement of him for the musical. That’s why he comes off as so unemotional and unfeeling.” “And did you ever end up alcoholic bread?” Apple Bloom asked. “I wish. Then I’d be rich and drunk, instead of stuck in this wonky-ass story.”