Fuck.
Scootaloo got her cutie mark in creative writing last week. I am so jealous. I could just beat the stuffing out of my sister. Oh look. She's out buckin' trees right now.
I walked outside to greet the bitch when she pulled out a twelve gauge. I retaliated with my little BB gun.
"Careful, sis." She cocked her rifle. "I ain't about to miss."
"I ain't a-tendin' to, neither," I replied.
So began a battle the likes of which could not be written because it was a psychological staring contest. We both stood and waited, ready and waiting for the other to fire. See, when the Elements of Harmony were corrected, they turned Equestria into a bloody war zone where the favourite game of families was this showdown type of entertainment. Seriously. Ponies would just stand and stare at each other for billions of seconds until one collaped from exhaustion or until one actually shot. It was a great spectator sport, even more popular than the Wonderbullets. They comprised the fastest, the most accurate, and finally the quickest-to-reload ponies in Equestria.
We fired our guns and-"
"Sweetie Belle!"
"What?"
"Stop writng that infernal story and help me with my project!"
"...Fiiiiiiiiiine..."