//------------------------------// // Pumpkin and Pound Cake are in Your Bed, Being Babysitted! (Pickleless) // Story: Fimfic Authors Are In Your Bed // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// Pumpkin and Pound Cake are in Your Bed, Being Babysitted! Pickleless Pickleless stumbled into his room, slightly drunk. He had just gotten back from swinging on the park swing in a wedding dress at 2 AM. It was a ritual he did every Monday night to clear his thoughts and think of new stories. There were bears and apparently a ghost in the park, but he wasn’t concerned. The bears were scared of him for some reason, and he’s never seen this dead bride who likes to play on the swingset at night. He was little let down, sometimes he wanted the company.         He pulled out his recorder. “Story idea, Rainbow Dash’s son, Raging Faggot, is gay. Rainbow Dash never saw it coming.”         “Buhbuhbaa~,” a baby’s voice burbled.         “Yeah, I don’t think I could make a 1000 word story out of it too,” Pick responded, sitting at his computer chair.         “Ahhbah!” Another voice happily replied.         “Wait a minute.” He froze. “You mean that wasn’t the voices in my head?!?”         Spinning around, he saw two baby foals sitting in his bed.         “Dangit, I usually remember kidnapping little children! I don’t even know what I was planning to do with these two!”         Walking over to his bed, he saw a note next to the foals.          Mr. Pickleless, Thank you again for agreeing to babysit our children, we’ll back in two hours. We didn’t know how to find your place so we had Pinkie drop off the kids. Mrs. Cake.         “Who the heck has someone watch their kid from 3 AM to 5 AM,” Pick grumbled. “Wait, when did I even agree to watch them?”          ~Yesterday~ ”Alright dude, I’ll see you at my place in an hour.” Jolly said.         ”Woooooah, you’re not coming to get me? Dude you know how bad my sense of direction is.” Pick responded.         ”You’ll be fine bro, I live two blocks down the street.”         *Five minutes later.*         Pickleless was wandering through Ponyville, incredibly drunk, when he came across Sugarcube Corner. Too smashed to tell the difference between one blur from another, he knocked violently on the door.         A yellow stallion opened the door. “Oh, hello! You must be the one we’re interviewing for the babysitting job!” Mr Cake smiled.         Pick vomited all over Mr. Cake, and then fell into the bushes, knocked out cold.         Mr. Cake frowned and rubbed his soaked chin. “Seems legit. OH HONEY BUN! I THINK WE’VE FOUND OUR BABYSITTER!”         “This is why I don’t go anywhere without a map!” Pick scowled.         Pumpkin and Pound giggled as the strange man shook his arms in frustration.         “Well, this is going better than the other times I’ve babysitted. All the other kids I’ve watched always cried the whole time I was there,” Pick mused. “Now what I do I have that you two can play with while I write important fanfics that don’t need to exist?..”         He looked around his room, searching for something child appropriate.         “Let’s see… Ah! There we go. Here kids, this is my knife collection. Kids like to play with sharp objects right? I know I did when I was little.” He handed one knife each to both foals. “Alright, now whoever gets a strike on the other one first receives a treat from Ol Picklebutt. Have fun kids!”         Completely ignoring the kids, Pick went back to writing his fanfic on the computer.         ”WE NEVER SHOULD HAVE HELD THAT INTERVENTION FOR HER!” Rarity wailed.         ”WRYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!” Fluttershy yelled in a fabulous manner.         “WAHHHH! WAHHHH!” A foal screamed out in the distance.         “Ugh, what now?!?” Pick grumbled.         Looking over, he saw Pound Cake about to stab himself in the eye with his knife.         “Nothing wrong there… Where is that wailing coming fro- OH! I recognize that cry! That’s the sound of a baby that fell into the toilet.”         Pick chuckled, slowly headed towards the bathroom. He saw Pumpkin flailing in the toilet bowl.         “Man, happens all the time...” He shook his head with mirth.         Pulling the filly out of the toilet, he wiped her off with a towel and noticed she looked tired when he walked out of the restroom.         “Awwww, are you sleepy Pumba something?” Pick smiled.         “Gu- gahhh…” Pumpkin weakly cried out.         “Don’t worry, I know just what to do kid. Here’s some of Uncle Pickleless’ forget juice!” He held the bottle of moonshine to Pumpkin’s lips.         The baby fought it for a second before drinking down a couple gulps of hard liquor. After a minute of being rocked back and forth, Pumpkin was sound asleep.         “Works like a charm.” Pick cooed.         Walking back into his room, he saw Pound Cake wailing from a cut wrist.         “Oh Pound, look what you’ve done,” He laughed. “It’s down the lane, not across the street!”         He made the motions with the knife on his own wrist, cutting open his arm.         “Oh, whoops.” Pick watched his arm spasm. “Welp better take care of that, here Pound, play some Five Nights at Freddy’s on my computer while I clean this up.”         Looking around his room. Pick grabbed a newspaper, wrapped it around his arm, and put some duct tape over it.         “Good enough! Okay little guy, let’s see if you need a diaper cha- ooooooo… Someone found my porn folder. Well Pound, you’re like 9 months old right? It’s time we had the talk.”         Pick set Pound on his lap and and put his hand around the foal’s shoulder in a fatherly fashion.         “Boy, sex is a lot like the ocean, I’m drowning in it. Now hold up your hoof, this is called a hive five!” Pick hive fived the confused child.         “Awww, somepony getting a little sleepy?” He smiled at Pound, who was woozy from blood loss. “Okay, let’s change your diaper little guy!”         Pickleless took the baby outside into the cool night air, undid the baby’s diaper, and blasted his backside with a hose.         “All clean!” Pick picked up the unconscious baby and brought it back inside. Looking around for something that could substitute for a diaper, he found more newspaper.         “Man, I have gotten way too good at folding newspaper…” ~An hour and a half later...~         “We’re back!” Mrs. Cake cheered, walking into Pick’s room.         “Huh?!? Whazzit?..” Pick lifted his sore face from off the floor. “Did I pass out again? Third time today…”         “Awwwww, look at our little angels, sleeping peacefully…” Mrs. Cake cooed towards her unconscious foals on the bed. “Thank you so much for watching them!”         “No problem, glad I could help!”         “Alright, see you same time next week then!” Mrs. Cake winked as she left with the children.         “Wait, if you had Pinkie drop off the kids because you didn’t know how to find the place, then ho-”         He slumped when he heard her leaving through the front door.         “How did she get into my house? The door was locked…”