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// Entry_#I-III 
// Story: Diary of a Disgruntled Filly Named Twi' 
// by Muggonny 
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Entry_#I
“Mommy” and "daddy," as they keep referring to themselves in the third person in that stupid tone of voice; brought many instruments of death to make my prison in the house more secure. I sit in one right now as I write. They strapped a seatbelt around me and push me around by using the wheels attached underneath the device. It is decorated with colorful pink roses, which are supposedly there to keep me calm. Those wankers don’t know a thing about me, do they? I’m calm in any, and all situations. For example, my birth.

I remember my upcoming quite well. I was in that womb for eight months until I made my day view at the precise time of four hundred hours on a Monday morning during the spring season. The room smelled of birth and a scented fragrance of what I made out to be Daffodil Valley. The smell of it was so strong, my birth smelt better.

The doctor stood stiff as a sign and was as calm as a tamed carnival lion. He had little stubbles of a beard growing, and his mane was messy from being woken up by my mother’s screams of utter pain. I took pleasure in every moment of it. Every kick and every struggle was worth it to escape such an awful land of mischief governed by the rectum. I couldn't believe I actually thought about going through there.
My father was in the delivery room with her. He had the look of complete shock. I think I understood why….

Right now we near the park. It had a sickening green color that made me want to release a little bit of bile in my mouth, or I can barf it in mother’s face…. As much as that would be fun, I am much too tiresome to even think about doing it.

The hood that hung over my transportation was protecting me from the outside word, or it was protecting the outside world from me. Whoever designed this contraption is as intellect as I and would be a great challenge. I was amazed by it. It was so simple, but a genuine piece of modern diversity.

There was a little patch on the hood of the carriage that could let me see most anything through, but it was all a bit blurry. Outside, ponies were everywhere. Playing with their canine friends, chasing each other down so they can lightly hit them, doing… disgusting. I am done with this entry for right now. Daddy is ordering ice cream and mother is about to check up on me. I can't have her questioning where I got a book so soon. It would blow my cover.



Entry_#II
It’s the second day and I was introduced to the strange prison food they feed me. Prison food? That food is way better quality! What they feed me is vegetable manure! It was still better than the other stuff, though. At this point, I can't help but shiver at the sight of a glass of milk.

This morning was mashed peas and carrots. It taste of goat spit and brain juice, but according to mother, it was healthy. Healthy? I’ve eaten your leftovers for nine months. Don't you think I know the difference between healthy and factory made? Healthy would be normal food eaten by a normal pony, grown and raised with their own hooves in a garden with the richest of mulch!

I spit on your grave!

…No matter. In the upcoming days, I’ll rise from my chambers and attack the one who imprisoned me in the mare for nearly nine months. Princess Celestia.



Entry_#III
How does one simply sit on a foal? Mother hired a strange female unicorn with wings to watch over me in my slumber. She was pink with colorful highlights in her mane, and a bow wrapped around her tail and mane. Big brother seems to get nervous whenever she’s around. I’m betting as many bits as I can that he has a dying crush on her. That silly foal.

If there were one pony in this world that I loved, it would be him. Shining Armor. Big Shiny is the codename I gave him. A little pretentious, I know, but he seems to be the only one to understand my current situation with this stubborn of a life. When mother and father aren’t looking, he’d often steal sugary sweets for me. Sugary sweets such as taffy or chocolate. I’d chew them with absolute love and care. As if nothing else mattered.

Of course, the pink one usually barges in when I’m chewing and she suddenly gets suspicious on what I’m eating. What? Can't I enjoy a decent meal? What happened to free will? They’re trapping me in contraptions that they named… high chair, foal-carriage, bib, pacifier, diapers…. It’s all moronic if you ask me.

My time will eventually come when I figure a way out. But it’s only been three days. If I leave now, I’ll be leaving far too early and without a plan. An escape like this could take years probably. While I wait for my moment, why not describe my life? After all, when I take over, this'll be the great book of all. Enough of this nonsensical talk about escaping and how much I want to conquer all. I shall explain these events thoroughly, so ponies will know how my life was and why they deserve to be slaves.

Tis’ be the day that I make my happenings upon the wondrous land of Equestria, and striketh upon the bare flank of Celestia. I’ll crack out my whip, and spank the green out of all the grass and leaves. I find it a blessing that after months of torture, and hearing “ABC Jellybeans” for the ninth-hundredth time, I can finally breath.