//------------------------------// // Spike Helps Him // Story: Begone, Horse! // by Snek Eyes //------------------------------// "Thanks for the- When the hell did you get wings?!" Anon shouted as Spike flew towards him. "It happened a while ago. Cool, aren't they?" "Quite. Anyways, thanks for the quick response." "Sure thing. Anything for a bro who suffers with Twilight like I do daily!" Their fists bumped with a resounding clack, and they both nodded to each other to affirm the bro-ship born between them. "So, what do you need help with?" "Just clearing out the rubble." Anon's hoof moved towards the remains. "I can build from the foundation up, and I might even be able to salvage some of the wooden planks. Also, if you have nothing going on, I could use some help putting stuff together, what with my condition and all." Worry filled Spike's eyes. His hands laid on his cheeks. "Condition? Do you have diabetes?" "NO! Who am I, Wilherd Brimley?!" And confusion filled Anon's. "I pulled a muscle, so heavy lifting is out for now." Anon shook his head. "Anyways, let's start." *** After twenty or so minutes, the two had only gotten through a quarter of the rubble. They exchanged small talk, ranging from origins to how psychotic Twilight was. Plenty of material, unlike me. "...and after that, Twilight never ate a quesadilla again." Spike chuckled. "Jesus, that story is just as cheesy!" "Hehe." As Spike put down his plank, he turned to Anon. "Ya know, you're actually cool." "Actually?" His interest peaked. "Makes it sound like you've heard different about me." "Oh yeah. Twilight and her friends won't shut up about you, but not how cool you are. Just how you'll be a virgin for life." Clunk! "Shit!" Anon grabbed his hoof he had stubbed on a stray piece wood. He immediately went into the fetal position. "Ow... But what's wrong with being a virgin?" "That's what I asked as well, but they had no real response." Spike shrugged. "Just that you should get laid, and know what love and poon feel like." "So they want to play matchmaker or something? Is this Huniepop?!" "Quality Markiplier content, but no." Spike's hands hid his face. "I don't get being a psycho either, but that's just what they've said. But why do you not get laid? There's plenty of volunteers." "Have you done it, Spike?" "...No." "Who are you to talk, then? Acting like you have experience." "Can you just answer my question, please?" Anon unfolded from the fetal position. "Well, if I tell you, where's the mystery for the mares and the readers?" Spike's mouth opened, then closed as he thought. "Point taken. But who would you want to do it with?" "Again, it's a mystery..." "Mystery, my ass." Unlike Spike's lower voice, this one sounded like a bee's annoying buzz. "Fluttershy, right?" A white furball walked up straight to Anon, and jumped where Anon couldn't reach: the small of Anon's back. "You have some FUCKING NERVE, ANGEL! GET DOWN HERE!!!" Anon stomped the ground with his good hoof. "I can book you a room at Hotel Fluttershy for a favor." Anon's posture wasn't the only thing to stiffen. "...I'm listening." Hook, line, and shitter. "If you give me 10 bits, I will hook it up." "10 bits? What for?" "Fluttershy is running low on funds for my catnip, and I need my nip." "Isn't catnip for... cats?" "Yes, but I sell it for 20 bits a gram to Capper. Deal?" The gears turned... and turned... and stalled. They need WD-40. "What's the catch?" "You son of a horse. Just take the offer." "Deal." Anon almost jumped for joy, then remembered something. "Spike, you just witnessed a drug deal be made. Remember, you saw nothing." "My lips are sealed, dude." Spike checked his imaginary watch. "Whoa. I gotta go before Twilight freaks. For that reason, I'm out. Later." After an epic fist-bump, Anon looked for the funds to give Angel. Unfortunately, he had to lift several pieces of wood to look for it. With wood piled on his back, and his attention not on Angel... "Oh, there-" *SWIFT AF* "The shit? No. ANGEL! NO!" Angel took off with the bag of bits that Anon had found mere seconds before. Yes, the same bag he got from Canterlot. All 9,500 bits were gone with Angel. Even with the heavy bag held above his head, Angel was on Angel Dust like a white Usain Bolt. "NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOO!!!" Anon started tearing up, then started tearing shit up. Like his muscles. He ran after Angel, his newly recovered hoof starting to ache. Oh, lord... *** "Hah, shit." After minutes of running, Anon found himself at another cottage with more animals than he ever cared to take care of. "ANGEL!" His attention diverted to the bag of bits that were on the front door step. "My precious!!! Oh, nom nom nom-" Anon heard the door open. "Can I help you?" "No thanks-" Anon stopped what he was doing. The doorway showed Fluttershy, eyebrows furrowed. "Anon, why are you molesting that bag?" "...That is explainable, these are my bits, your bunny Angel stole them, humping isn't molestation." Anon tried to get up with the bag, and fell right back down in pain. "Again? My muscle hurts again..." Fluttershy facehoofed. "Really? Can you walk at all?" "Somewhat." Without the added weight, Anon got up fine, and walked a bit slower than normal. "So... this is something." "What is?" "Well, I can't walk back to my place with the bag right now, so I either have to leave it or have someone carry it for me. And I will not leave it out of my sight again." "And your place is in ruins, right?" Fluttershy gestured for Anon to come in. "Eeyup!" Somewhere on Sweet Apple Acres, Big Mac sneezed. Anon had passed the doorway when Fluttershy turned and said, "I'm sure if I rearrange a few things, I can make room for you to stay here tonight." Anon's eyes went wide. He looked around to see if he would be punked, but this was... legit? "Really? I don't want to burden you like that." "It's fine for tonight." On the windowsill past Fluttershy, Anon spotted a thumbs-up from a familiar color. 'Celestia, Angel, thank you!' "Really? Thanks, Fluttershy." Fluttershy walked past Anon, starting to clean up. "If you try anything, I'll fucking castrate you and feed it to Antoine for breakfast tomorrow."