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Chap 1: Handsome who?2,216 words
Chap 2: Headshot1,581 words
Chap 3: Boom Boom!915 words
Chap 4: BoomCakes1,205 words
Chap 5: Awesome!1,446 words

Chap 3: Boom Boom!

There ought to be two rules in this life.

First ought to be that you don't give a psycho a rocket-launcher.

Second ought to be that don't give a psycho a pink rocket launcher, that talks.

"THIS BOOM STICK DOESN'T BOOM!" protested Krieg as he fired another shot, and watched the ineffective little rocket fly out with a puff and explode ceremoniously into a shower of confetti. Frustrated, he loaded a third round, and fired it at the ground right at his feet. The soft paff of confetti showered around him, and his rocket launcher was now giggling.

"Hahahahaha! This is so fun!" it said, in a shrill and auto-tuned voice. "Shoot another one! Shoot another one!"

Instead, Krieg slammed a large button on it's side, right next to a 'Tediore' graphic, and threw it with some heft.

I know pal. The noise it makes would be excusable if it had some firepower.

The weapon Krieg had just thrown exploded with the same ineffective paff, and the same shower of confetti. The raging psycho remained unperturbed, and seemed to sigh when the weapon reappeared in his hands.

"Woooh hahaha! That was fun! Please don't do it again though! Kinda scary." it said, giggling to him.
This prompted him to immediately do it again. To his confusion and slowly growing joy, like a psychological fungus spreading it's smile spores across his mind and into it's tiniest of cracks, the weapon simply laughed again.

It was during this moment of contemplation that a desert bandit truck roared past him, Krieg not even flinching at the explosive barrel that missed him.

Sure would be nice to have some kinda explosive weapon right about now, wouldn't it?

You could always try me out!

Who in the fuck?

"THE MUSHROOM OF SMILES TALKS TO MY INNER HATRED!" bellowed Krieg as he felt, in a rare moment of tactical lucidity, few other options. Out came the bright pink Tediore rocket launcher, and with a blast of a party blower and confetti strings, out popped a little rocket with a bright smile on it.

The driver of the vehicle was not privy to the knowledge that Krieg was, and turned to dodge the rocket. Unfortunately he was not successful, as the pink weapon only now displayed a homing function, causing the rocket to turn, giving chase. The eery 'fweeeeee' of the little rocket drove the operator of the barrel launcher to panic, and he fired at it, displaying the bandits' world-renown intellect and sharp aim. They were all natural snipers, really.

Alas, in what could only be described as a freak mis-calculation, the barrel missed the little rocket, and exploded just beneath the truck's rear bumper, causing it to lurch. This in turn caused the driver to be flung from his seat, into the sands of The Dust.

The sharp shooter at the helm of the barrel-launcher had lost his cool, as the little rocket struck him, with the impact of a weak punch, and 'paffed' all over him, showering him with confetti and confusion. perplexed at his apparently unharmed status, he turned in his seat just time to notice his driver being beaten to a bloody pulp by a raving lunatic. He was being beaten, specifically, with something very offensively pink.

It was as the psycho's one glaring eye turned it's attention to him that he attempted to man his weapon again. However, it was jammed. Some kind of paper ribbon caught in it's works, and as he reached into the mechanism to free it, the machine churned some more, and took his hand as penance.

His screams of pain were short-lived however, as he was abruptly strangled to death.

After a moment, Krieg sighed. His surprisingly useful weapon was quiet. Unusually quiet.

That wasn't fun at all. came a weary little voice, echoing in the mental expanse of fuck that was Krieg's mind.

You're in for a rough ride, kid. Whoever, or whatever you are, you'll wanna find a way out if you can. This here's no-man's land.

"I HEAR YOU! I HEAR YOU I HEAR YOU I HEAR YOU! COME OUT AND PLAY LITTLE MUSHROOM! MY SPINE WILL SMILE FOR YOU, I SWEAR IT ON MY TINGLER!"

If I told you he's honestly trying to be nice, would you believe me?

If you pinkie swear.

I ain't got a pinkie to swear on, but sure.

I'm a Pinkie, silly! And since you swear, I can trust you!

"SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!"

Krieg decided to pull out his confetti launcher once more, and began to thump on it.

"SPEAK, MUSHROOM! SPEAK IN THE LAND OF STRIPPED FLESH AND SALTED WOUNDS! MY PEANUT-BUTTER CASTLE HAS ONLY ONE COLLEGE STUDENT AND HE CAN'T EAT MUSHROOMS!"

"Hi!" cried the weapon, as cheery as it once was. "My name's Pinkie Pie! Or it was! I'm not sure what it is now, since I'm not the pony I used to be. Now I'm some sort of...cannon? OH! OHMYGOSH! I AM THE PARTY CANNON!"

"YEEEEESSSS!" declared Krieg in what could only be described as the sound of intense satisfaction. He liked the sound of the 'Party Cannon'. He liked it very much.

College student? Buddy, you're gettin' weirder everyday.

Author's Note:

Very short chapter, yes. Very, very short. I do apologize very much. Unreservedly, even.

But you see, the problem is, I have no idea how to really write pinks or krieg.

Certainly not for extended scenes.

So, yeah. Sorry that you waited all this time for not even a thousand words (close though).
But I did tell you. I did say I wouldn't let this story die.

Even if I have to release short little stump chapters once a year (DRAMATIC EXAGGERATION), I will keep this story alive somehow.

Also, when it comes to Rarity's turn, it's going to be even worse.
And Shy's.
And Dash's.

Hell come to think, the only ponies I can really write even remotely well are Twalot and Appujej

Heeeeeeh.

I don't even relate to either of them.

Anyway, yes. There's another reason I'm inclined to get this out. Our mutual friend, the servbot of rust, mae a deal with me. I update this, he updates The Kindness.

YOUR MOVE, TEX

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