Hey. Kid. What’s with the long face?
You want your mommy? Yeah, I want my mommy too. Dam owes me money.
I hate to see a foal cry. Tell you what, I’m gonna tell you a story.
You comfortable? I want you to be comfortable. We could be here a long time.
Again with the crying. How are you gonna hear the story while you’re crying?
That’s better.
So once upon a time there was this brother and sister. Names Hansel and Gretel. Nice kids, mostly, but they got on their parents’ nerves sometimes. Like, they liked to run around the house, up and down the stairs, playing games. You do that a lot, I bet.
You don’t?
Gretel used to sing around the house, things she heard at school, things she made up. You do that?
Okay, that’s enough, stop, stop, you’re killing me. That gets on your dad’s nerves, I bet.
He likes it? Eh, if you say so.
Also Hansel and Gretel used to fight with each other, all the time. Call each other names, fight over toys. You do that with your sister?
Oh, come on. What are you, a saint? You must do something to get on your parents’ nerves.
His best pipe? Oh, I bet he was mad. Probably madder than he let on. So you never found it?
Probably he’s still mad about it.
In fact Gretel was a singer too, but not a very good one. Her dad would be sitting there relaxing and smoking his pipe when Gretel would start up like a pig gargling, and her dad would gasp and choke on the pipe smoke. Just killed the moment. He was too nice a guy to say anything to Gretel. Pretended he liked it. But secretly it drove him crazy. Every time Gretel sang her dad would sit there and grin like an idiot, but really he was holding onto his chair trying not to scream.
How about your mom? You ever done something that just pinned her ears back?
Oh, that’s rough. Mares like their flowers. I bet it took a year to grow those flowers. Years, maybe. Sometimes longer than it takes to pop a foal.
I'm just saying. So, anyway, Hansel and Gretel’s dam, she liked flowers too. She spent years making these special flowers grow a color nobody else could get them to grow. Blue, I think. So she had these blue flowers, and they were gonna take first prize at the town festival for sure, only Hansel trampled them chasing a hoofball. I mean he got every last one of them. Didn’t even slow down. His mom yelled at him and sent him to his room. Then he came out for dinner and pretty soon he forgot about it.
But his mom, she didn’t forget about it. Just like their dad didn’t forget about his pipe.
Oh, yeah, Gretel lost her dad’s favorite pipe, just like you did. I forgot to say that.
So one day their dad saw this fancy pipe in a store in town. Mahogany, with a pearl stem. I tell you, it was a beauty, and he knew that if he had a swanky pipe like that, all the other stallions would look up to him. But he thought, No point in buying a fancy pipe like that with Gretel around. He couldn’t enjoy smoking it, what with the singing, and Gretel would just lose it anyway.
His mom, around the same time she got the new seed catalog and figured out a way she could cross some of the flowers in it to make an extra-special color that would be sure to win at the town festival. But she thought, No point growing those flowers with Hansel around.
The two of them got to talking, and they decided they’d had enough of Hansel’s flower-stomping and Gretel’s singing and pipe-losing. So they said they’d take them out into the forest the next day, tell them they were supposed to gather wood, and lose ‘em.
Only Hansel heard ‘em talking, see. So he loaded his pocket up with all the white pebbles around their house, and next day when his dad took them out into the forest, he dropped a pebble every few steps, sly-like.
His dad stopped deep in the forest and told Hansel and Gretel to go get some wood. But when they came back with the wood, he was gone, see?
Gretel started sniffling. Yeah, just like that. Quit it.
No, I’m sure your parents wouldn’t do that to you. Probably. Unless they were really mad about something.
Did he say it was an expensive pipe? Oh, he did?
Anyway, Hansel told her, Don’t cry, and showed her the trail of pebbles. So they followed them back home.
Their parents were happy to see them again. Mostly. At first.
But time went on, and their dad kept thinking about that fancy pipe, and their mom about them flowers. Before long there they were again, going out into the forest with their dad to gather wood. But Hansel had used up all the pebbles last time. All he had was a piece of bread for lunch.
But he was sly, and every few steps, he’d break off a crumb and drop it. Finally they stopped the in the woods, and his dad told him to go get firewood. When they came back, he was gone.
So they started following the crumb trail back. But wouldn’t you know, these dumb birds had swooped down and eaten the crumbs the second Hansel and Gretel had turned their backs, every last one of them. And Hansel and Gretel were lost in the woods.
So their dad, he went to the store and bought that new mahogany pipe with the pearl stem. Then in the evenings, he would sit back and relax, smoking it, not thinking about anything at all, and it was the best feeling in the world. He got a promotion at work, on account of he looked so classy with that pipe.
Their mom, she got those seeds and started growing her flowers, and when she’d grown them and crossed them and grown them again they came out with a brand new color, one nobody had ever even seen before. They didn’t just win at the town festival. Word of 'em went all the way to Canterlot. She went and showed 'em to the princesses. The princesses, they said they were the prettiest things they’d seen in a thousand years.
Hansel and Gretel? I dunno. Probably bears ate ‘em.
There you go crying again. That’s what I get for my trouble.
What’s that? You want to go home?
I don’t believe you really want to go home. You ain't crying much, for somepony who really wants to go home.
Now that sounds more like somepony who wants to go home. Do that again, just like that, but into the microphone here.
There. That’s great. Don’t worry. You’ll be home in no time. You want a soda or something? I think we got some soda for you.
Hey, Bats! Take this tape to Slick. Tell him to cut out the good part and send it to the parents. And get this colt a soda. He deserves it. Don’t you, kid?
Oh. My. God...
31.media.tumblr.com/eba9b5ae1786f4562f8c7b6f100d20ec/tumblr_n2gldziXTK1s7nv2jo1_400.jpg
...I see that the narrator has graduated from a disreputable sort into a straight-up foalnapper. Somepony should probably tell him that due to a hilarious legal boondoggle the statutory punishment for that was inherited from pre-union days and is to be drawn, hanged, and quartered. When the procedure that entails was explained to the head of the Department of Corrections he was violently ill, so at this point it's anypony's guess what'll happen to the story-teller once he's caught. Though given the robust sense of justice of your average copper and how they are likely to be family mares and stallions and all, it's likely he'll be shot while trying to escape. Repeatedly. Some ponies just don't know when to stop escaping, I guess.
Man, I dunno if they'll really want him back, considering
Definitely won't pay as much as they're hoping.
4469069
Fuck off, I can't hear Unca Bad's story!
You, sir, are a super evil genius with a heart of gold.
What? Gold's hard and heavy like stone, plus it's shiny and worth a helluva lot more. Definitely a heart of gold.
Man this is way more monstrous than the first one.
Poor kid.
4469069
He's Bad Horse. He rules the Evil League of Evil with an iron hoof. This is the sort of thing he does.
This is scarier the the original...
4469069 Hey, it was your idea!
4469156
Do you see what your careless storytelling has wrought, Bad Horse? Improper language! The scandal! The shame! The wretchedness!
It's spelled U-N-C-L-E, damn it! The Unca, as any foal knows are relatives of the Inca, only further down in the alphabet. I mean really.
At least you spelled 'fuck' correctly. Thank heaven for small mercies, and all that.
4469244
Bad Horse doing this? Perish the thought. He's just chronicling. He'd never stoop to criminal enterprises, never. Why, he's utterly trustworthy and absolutely the best person to give, say, your keys when you need someone to house-sit. He also does a foalsitting service that--granted!--is a bit pricey, but there's none of that charging by the hour nonsense, no indeed. He sees a foal-sitting through, he does.
4469282
Indeed. Indeed. I had, by sheerest error, mistaken an entirely legal enterprise for a criminal activity. Foolish of me. This, naturally, naturally, is merely an avant-garde variety of foal-sitting. Very outré. Very chic.
Oh, and let me just remark—utterly unrelated to the above—how much the widows and orphans of the Forswearers' & Misprisoners' Guild appreciate your generous charitable contribution.
Awww, I love a story with a happy ending.
Brings a tear to my eye, it does.
I always love to see small touches of horse behavior in stories.
Humour so dark not even light can escape.
Not until the photons pay the ransom just like everybody else. What, think you're so special? Think the sun shines out your asshole and all do you-
Well, I guess technically it sort of does, but a black hole is the only thing that can catch light, and Bad Horse conveniently has one where his heart should be.
And from here, we go to the Ransom of Red Colt please :)
You're a bad, bad person my friend...... Well Done, give the man a medal, etc.
Bad Horse, I don't understand. If you cut the good part of the tape and send it to the parents, you don't get to hear that sweet, sweet crying yourself. I'd think a criminal genius like yourself would know to make a copy for his personal collection.
Still a more faithful adaptation than Disney.
4469431
OI!!! Sod off, ya nerdy git! I can't hear Bad Horse-sama over your fucking pontification. It's so loud and whiny. How am I suppose to take notes, fucking godammit?! Some of us are learning from this ya know, eh?! EH??!!
...You know what, Ghost? I know how to make you shut yer trap real good.
No, I ain't that close, Ghost. Your chest makes for a nice rest spot is all.
Oh, this? No, I didn't just handcuff you to myself. I handcuffed you to Buckcheek, the sad little griffin. I dunno where he came from. I woke up in a Pizza Hut dumpster and found this egg laying next to me, along with some fancy Victorian goth chick and who I assume was her hot older brother. Boy howdy! You should have seen the look on their faces when they woke up.
Yeah, dumpster sex is dirty and daring. You gotta avoid all the broken glass, jagged open cans, and used needles. It's suicidal, and shit, you will need to take a day long shower afterwards but the crazy sexy fun is totally worth it. Just take your shots first, cuz STDs are the least of your worries.
I'll just assume that incesteous bi gothy orgies in dumpsters spontaneously spawn griffin eggs for whatever reason. Must be the drugs involved? Or, you know, a passing griffin was like, Fuck this shit, and threw it in when we were out of it.
Either way, little Buckcheek here perpetually cries. He likes it, I guess. I read him sad stories like Charlotte's Web and Animal Farm and he asks for more. In fact, he cries over any story, really. Maybe I read him too much Goosebumps when he hatched?
He's damn useful, eh? Whenever I show him to Nicknack, he practically pisses Brony tears. I bet the same thing would happen with Hootaloo. I would prolly have to throw images of beached orcas and tipped cows, but she'd gush Brony tears... delish...
Anyways, Ghost, I'd like you to take care of little Buckcheek here for, let's say, the duration of Bad Horse-sama's story. Read him whatever the hell you want. He'll enjoy it. Oh, and you'll need this box of tissues.
No, I'm not asking you to cubsit him. I'm forcing you. What do you think the handcuffs were for? Not another peep, Ghost.
What? This? Naw, it ain't real. It's just a cap gun I got from a dollar store for five bucks. Looks real, eh? Anyways, it's not for you. It's for those two Zebras with grape slurpees across the street.
Don't worry. I'll pay you to cubsit. Slurpees are what, a couple of bucks? You like grape, right? Sure you do.
Do be careful. Buckcheek likes to bite fingers and tongues.
Cover your ass, everybody. The po-po will be crawling all over in a sec. This is gonna be fucktarded fun.
Oh, and Ghost? Your fly is open.
Tee hee!
Oh, wow. You just ripped out the complete actual story there
And the moral of the story is if you ever want to see your foals again, leave twenty thousand unmarked bits in the dumpster behind the Hayburger. Come alone. No cops, no funny business.
Looking forward to more.
4469431
4469156
Godammit. I quoted the wrong person on my last comment and it looks like I'm harassing someone completely innocent (lol). Sorry, Razzle!
Yeah, I'm harassing you, Ghost. Because Unca Bad told me to through his horse words and he's down wit it yo.
4470317
...you think 'nerdy' is going to insult me? Take one good look around and rethink that, will ya?
As for the rest... *shrug* I've been insulted by experts. This ain't it.
4471099 4471031 Oh, snap. You got GhostOfHeraclitus to use slang.
I think uncle Bad Horse will have a different type of audience for his next story.
I have a mental image of a rough stallion defending himself in court by rambling on about horribly mangled fairy tales.
4471099
I am shocked that you took the entirety of my comment/deranged messed up fantasy as an insult :( Okay, the nerdy bit was definitely, but with a bit of affection thrown in. It was an affectionate insult, just as I will affectionately insult you by pointing out that your fly is still down. Golly gee, how did that ever happen? :]
You have to watch out, Ghost. Your pants are in danger of slowly falling off, babe. They must have a mind of their own, eh?
4471106
media.moddb.com/cache/images/groups/1/3/2055/thumb_620x2000/Just_as_planned_tzeentch.jpg
You're an evil bastard. Please never change.
4471418
No, there has to be a plot arc about it first. It'll take a few stories to get to the courthouse. First you have to have something about ransom demands, then negotiation, then something with the cops being involved, cutting a piece of their ear off, moving their hideout farther away, and then being arrested. Then there's a story told to other inmates in the jail he's being kept, and finally, FINALLY, horribly mangled fairy tales in court.
4469282
Bonus points for a story about your dumb partner getting caught by the feds, a story told while botching the hostage exchange, and a story told to the executioner as the lethal injection sets in.
And the Mafia fairytales continue.
I don't know which is more entertaining. The chapter itself, or the comments that followed.
4469563
Even the ones that appear every so often in SS&E's stories? And by that I don't mean horse behaviour, I mean ponies doing cat behaviour. Because they're that little. And have hooves. At least the cats in Alara do. Except they're really big.
wizards.com/mtg/images/daily/stf/stf12_Knight_of_the_White_Orchid.jpg
Oh, and Unca Bad must have a thing for bears. I mean, this is the second chapter in a row. Or maybe bears are just a common theme in fairy tales. Nah...
Is it like Daniel Bryan's obsession with bears?
Skip to 4:30 for Bryan on bear commentary:
Also, obligatory bear imagery:
arkell78.files.wordpress.com/2013/11/gay-bears.jpg
Whu...?
Whoopsies! Wrong bears... or are they? Mmm...
videogamesdaily.com/content/red-dead-redemption-review-2.jpg
You brought a knife to a bear fight. How do you feel, Marston?
This was mildly enjoyably weird and goofy...
AND THEN THE MICROPHONE SHOWS UP.
Oh, Bad Horse. What are we going to do with you.
Great work as always Bad Horse! I see that after rising requests for babysitting from the first chapter, he decided to record his stories and sell them. I look forward to the angry mobs running him out of town. Can't wait to read more.
Didn't know if you'd seen this, but if you haven't--WHOOMP THERE IT IS
strategypage.com/gallery/images/peter_rabbit_1.jpg .
I think that's the answer to Chris' question, "Why is this even ponyfic?" Being in Equestria hints that the criminals aren't all that bad and don't ever really hurt anybody. If I situated this in the real world instead of in Equestria, it would seem darker.
One more
You just talked about Gretel here. So should it be "her dad?" Or you could say "their"
5287884 Yes, maybe, nah. I'm ambivalent about the feet. Horses have feet (and toes, one per foot):
forgingahead.files.wordpress.com/2009/12/inside-foot.jpg
The part that gets sore is probably the foot, not the hooves, which are mostly keratin. So technically, her feet hurt. But I agree it's distracting. Worse, though, Goldenmane repeated what the narrator just said, so I rewrote that sentence.
Some style guides say not to capitalize the letter after a colon, but it's common to capitalize it if the part after the colon is a complete sentence. Most style guides would also say that the whole sentence is ungrammatical because "Remember, kids" is not a complete sentence. Nonsense. <- That's not grammatical either, according to a style guide.
To me, "Friends" gets capitalized because it sounds capitalized when you read it out loud. "Friends" gets a pause before it and then an extra emphasis, just as if it were after a period. "Proper" grammar follows rules. Good grammar follows speech patterns. Like "an honor" vs. "a horse"--you can't get the real right grammar without paying attention to the phonetics.
5287903 Fixed. Thanks!
5289446 *shrug* Well anyway, your story was hilarious, I want more chapters, and TRG approved it.
4400290
Yep. Although, I think he might've ascended past that awhile ago. I like to think I've contributed my share into the Bad Horse mythos. What is he? Is he human? Is he a roaming black stallion, stoic as the night? Is he some sort of daemon horse-man with the grasping hands of a man, the clopping feet of a horse, and the shit-eating grin of a horse upon his horse head? Does he transform into a Jaguar[1], tying into the theory that he's some sort of Transformer[2]? Can he really wield a pair of brass knuckle knives with the greatest of ease[3]? Such is the mystique of Bad Horse. I should know. I've been shadowing him for over a year (or is it two now? :/ ), and it's all a blur of documents stricken with black Sharpie, awkward news reports, cross-country high speed chased, "borrowing", and repaying informants with... err... favours. It's conclusive evidence, yet at the same time it's contradictory. It's as though he's bartered with forces more darker and more evil than I have. Perhaps, he even is one of those said forces.
When you combine it with the intellect that he constantly displays, you have some sort of evil horse monster. One that's very adaptable to drastic situations, both physically and mentally. So yeah, he's kind of ascended Dr. Horrible by leaps and bounds.
Also, one of Bad Horse's weaknesses is stairs, unlike a certain crystal failure. Use the environment to your advantage. Oh, and cover your ass as you run. It puts his eyebrows up.
Oh... I believe I've blown my cover a smidgen. I must be off now. Just remember to cover your ass. Works for just about any situation, really.
There is the soft, sensual purr of malleable flesh and the twisting grind of shrinking metal. Where yamgoth once stood, there is now a large brown furry moth. He flaps his wings with effect before blasting off into the sky, trailing smoke and moth dust.
[1]Yeah, the car that fancy British types like Ben Kingsly apparently use.
[2]It's a proven fact that kids will buy edgy, colourful mockeries of the Rubix Cube. Wouldn't put it past Bad Horse to try to cash in on that.
[3]How in the hell do you even use those when you have only hooves?
loved it!
I hope you figure out some more chapters to add to it
I might've already said this about another of them, but this might be the best one.