//------------------------------//
// Fluttershy 
// Story: The Discord Parable 
// by TooShyShy 
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	Fluttershy was a gentle soul who took care of animals for a living.
She fed them, cleaned up after them, repaired their minor injuries, and told them intricate bedtime stories.  Everything they needed she was happy to provide, be it some fresh acorns or a brand new piano.  Fluttershy was happy whenever her animal friends were content.  Some ponies might say that her animals were like her children, but that's a whole other story more suitable for a sadfic.
Today, Fluttershy decided she would head to the meadow early to pick some flowers.  She went there as soon as she finished breakfast, a big happy smile on her face.
Fluttershy heads to the meadow, humming cheerfully to herself.
On her way there, she discovered some absolutely gorgeous berry bushes.  Inspired by the sight, she took a short detour so she could pick some.  Wouldn't Angel Bunny be pleased when she baked him a nice big pie along with his usual meal!
Fluttershy starts picking berries, still humming.
Is this....?  Are you...?  You're....doing what I say?  You're not trying to write your own story?  That's....very nice of you, Fluttershy.  I've had such terrible experiences trying to get ponies to adhere to the story these past times.  I was about to give up hope that anypony would ever listen to me.  You're a true friend, Fluttershy.  Tell you what:  Tonight, I promise not to open up a black hole in your bedroom.  That's how nice you're being right now.
Fluttershy finishes picking berries and heads toward the meadow.
Um...are you sure you're going to do what I say?  You're not going to veer off course and, say, take a nap instead of going to the meadow?  Or...eat the flowers instead of picking them?  Or just stand there and do nothing while I turn everything around you into ice cream?
Fluttershy starts picking flowers in the meadow.
Angel Bunny doesn't really deserve a pie, you know.  I heard him telling that foul-mouthed beaver that you have a fat flank and your house smells like pee.  Rude little thing, isn't he?  But...if the story says you make him a pie, you have to...  Just thought you ought to know how impolite he is.  
Fluttershy continues picking flowers.
Ugh.  This is painfully cutesy.  Don't you want to....I don't know....burn every flower in the meadow?  Think about it:  Every single petal, going up in a massive ball of fire!  It would be every arsonist's wet dream and then some!  
Fluttershy fills up her basket of flowers.
Fine.  No burning things down.  I get it.  You're supposed to be a role model for little children.  Although with the type of ponies children are admiring these days, I imagine a psychopathic arsonist would be an improvement.  Wait, weren't we doing a story?  Oh yes. Um....Fluttershy was about to leave the meadow when she noticed a friendly little bee.  She walked closer to examine her new striped friend.  But when she got close enough, the bee suddenly stung her forehead.  Celestia knows why.  Maybe it was upset about its sports team losing.
Fluttershy cries out as the bee stings her forehead.
Here we have the unpleasant part of the story.  Painful, annoying, and I'm sure some people think it's worthy of the author being burned at the stake.  If you were Applejack or Twilight, this would be your cue to say “Buck this!”.  You would leave the meadow, go back to your house, and jump into bed.  And I, the frustrated narrator, would try everything I could to get you back on the path of the real story.  It would conclude with me enraged and you thrilled that you made your own decisions instead of honoring the intelligent and ingenious prose laid out by the writer.  But since you're following the story, instead you're going to put a bandage on the injury and go to the hive so you can reprimand the bees for doing what bees do.  You cannot tell me that sounds like something you want to do.
Fluttershy goes in search of the beehive.
I can't believe it!  You're electing to put yourself in more danger just because it's what the story tells you to do!  Have you no spine?  I-I mean, you're supposed to follow the...I need you to....  Hold on. 
Fluttershy continues toward the beehive.
For the story to work, I need you to follow it.  But if you decide to veer off onto your own path, isn't that in itself the story?  Perhaps for the story to be a story, the pony must deviate from the intended road and travel down their own.  For if they don't, there is really no story worth telling.  In essence, is rebelling against the narrative as much a part of the story as the story itself?  
Fluttershy approaches the beehive, preparing her Stare.
Please wait a second, Fluttershy.  I need to think about this.
Fluttershy pauses feet away from the beehive.
Total compliance vs. acting on your own will.  You can write a story out of either, but which one is actually a STORY?  Does anypony want to read a book about a character always doing what he or she is told?  Is literature not made from rebellion?  And for that matter, isn't the story whatever the characters make of it?  That is to say, whatever happens is automatically the story, even if it isn't.  Fluttershy, if you had gone against everything I said like everypony else, that would have still been a story.  Maybe even...a better story.  
Fluttershy is still frozen in place.
Oh my.  Oh my.  I...might have been going about this all wrong.  Oopsie.  Sorry, Fluttershy, but we're going to have to cut this one short.  Oh, right, there has to be an ending.  Blast it all!  Um....  And then Fluttershy.......er.....  Oh, to Tartarus with it!  Fluttershy temporarily stopped existing while the narrator sorted out this new idea!
Fluttershy disappears into thin air.