Friendship is Not Dead

by Pterry

Patriotic Duty

"Friendship is dead," declared the telescreen in the Birthing Center, "Friendship is a weapon from the enemy, Sparkle, designed to overthrow our great Queen Trixie. In days past ponies spewed their disgusting friendship all over the land; this was permitted and even encouraged by the weak, old Queen Celestia. This weakness is what allowed our glorious Queen Trixie to sieze her rightful spot on the throne of Equestria. Now the enemy Twilight Sparkle wanders the land, attempting to poison the minds of our citizens with her friendship so that she can restore her mistress Celestia to power. Do not listen to her lies, good ponies! Queen Celestia is dead by her own ponies! Friendship is a tool of subversives who do not love Queen Trixie! Love Queen Trixie above all else, and the enemy Sparkle's 'friendship' is unnecessary! Have other ponies for pleasure often; you do not need more from your peers than this!"

A roll of thunder obscured the speech of the telescreen from Sweetie Belle's hearing for a moment. When the sound died down she heard that the weather was expected to remain calm for the rest of the night. She sighed to herself. This big, bulging belly felt more uncomfortable than ever before.

Eleven months previously, Sweetie Belle had gone to the Breeding Facility, as did all young mares when they came of age. The idea of motherhood was considered to be somewhat pornographic in Queen Trixie's Equestria, but this rite of passage was nothing less than every mare's patriotic duty to Queen Trixie. So in the line of patriotic duty, Sweetie Belle had been blindfolded and lost her virginity to a total stranger in a dark, dirty room. In the line of patriotic duty, she had carried the result of that event for the past eleven months. In the line of patriotic duty, she would give birth to a brand new Equestrian patriot. In the interest of never having to perform the unclean duty of motherhood ever again, Sweetie Belle would opt to be sterilized immediately after. That way she could have as many stallions has she wanted without worry, just like all good traditionalist mares did in Queen Trixie's Equestria.

"Sweetie Belle," called a machine embedded in the ceiling.

Finally, thought the white mare as she got up. She trudged over to a door, pushed it open with her head, and waddled into the birthing room. She was quite ready to drop the little burden in her belly. After that, it would be raised by the state, as all foals were.

---

Birthing had been less humiliating than Sweetie Belle had feared. She briefly considered changing her mind about the sterilization, but her culture demanded it. How could Sweetie Belle be a good orthodox mare if she was a freemartin? The secret police constantly monitored the population for heterodoxies. Ponies who became too different from the norm were deported from Equestria to trixie-knows-where. Besides, having the freedom to have stallions at will sounded like fun, maybe. But maybe-

Sweetie Belle's thoughts were interrupted by a cry from the doctor behind her.

"Oh sweet Trixie! This one's got all three!"

Sweetie's heart dropped into her hooves. All ponies were born with one birth defect. Some had a bony protrusion on their heads. Others had flaps of skin on their sides. Others had extra muscular tissue all over their bodies. Everypony had these birth defects removed for two reasons: Queen Trixie said that none of these extra features served any purpose, and Queen Trixie's stated mission as ruler was to make everypony equal so that nopony was better than another. Sweetie's had been removed when she was a filly. She was pretty sure it was the bony protrusion. Or was it the flaps? Wait, how does removing the defects promote equality if they don't do any-

And then she saw what she had given birth to. Just as the doctor had said, the newborn lavender foal had a bony protrusion, flaps of skin, and extra bulk from its extra muscle. Had Sweetie Belle failed in her patriotic duty? Would she be made to do it all over again? The doctors rushed the foal out of the room, leaving Sweetie Belle alone.

"Wait! What about my ster-"

"We're sorry. The Birthing Center is now closed. Please come back tomorrow to give birth to your foal. We apologize for the inconvenience," droned the machine in the ceiling. A collective groan arose from the waiting room, and Sweetie Belle's head dropped in disappointment. As she exited the building, she was certain that all the pregnant mares were glaring her, but she didn't bother to look and confirm her suspicion. It was time to go to bed.

Sweetie Belle stepped into the Canterlot night and found that it was still raining. It seemed as if the Canterlot sky was constantly raining, constantly weeping. She was used to it though. The way it made her coat matt to her hide, the way it made every step a splashy impact into liquid dirt, the way it made the night even darker.

"Are you just gonna let them take your foal?"

Sweetie Belle looked down. It was happening again. Two fillies, one a yellow muscular pony and the other an orange pony with flaps. The orange one had posed the question and was awaiting her response.

"And do what? Raise it myself? That's not my job. Besides, you know my doctor tells me not to talk to you. You're not even real."

The yellow one piped up, "If I wasn't real, could I do this?" She bumped into Sweetie Belle's leg, causing her to stumble.

"Yes," came the curt reply.

The yellow filly pouted, "Oh c'mon! You were raised by your mother! And father! And yer big sister! How can you just walk out on yer family like that?!"

Sweetie gave her well-conditioned reply, "The family, like friendship, is a subversive tool of enemies of the state. Besides, I was raised by the state, and I never knew my mother, father, or big 'sister', whatever a 'sister' is."

The discourse was interrupted by a very real and solid filly approaching Sweetie Belle with a sad, puppy-dog look in her eye. Sweetie Belle smiled gently at her, dug around for a few bits on her person, and handed them over to the begging child. The filly beamed at the show of generosity and skittered off into the dirty Canterlot night. Sweetie Belle was forced to turn her attention back to the imaginary discussion she was having with imaginary children.

"Aw c'mon, Sweets," whined the little orange phantom filly, "Even if you don't believe us, aren't you even a little bit curious to know what happened with your baby? Even a little?"

As it happened, Sweetie Belle was curious to know just what had happened back there. Who was the father of that foal? Sweetie Belle reasoned that the Breeding Facility was on the way to her apartment, and that she might as well make a stop and ask. She reached the Facility and got the attention of the mare at the front desk.

"Uh, hello. My name is Sweetie Belle. Eleven months ago I came here, and well, as you can see, I've completed my patriotic duty. I was wondering if you had the name of the stallion I had."

The attendance mare smirked, "Lookin' ta have him again? Ya know a lot of mares do that, get with the father of their foal right after they've finished. Ya know there's nothin' wrong with that as long as ya have other stallions too. Ya know they're out there for ya, just like, uh, like..."

"Like so much meat," Sweetie Belle suggested.

The mare was caught off-guard by Sweetie's cynical comment, "Right, well, um," she pulled a paper out of a drawer in her desk and looked at it. "Oh dear."

Sweetie Belle's heart sank to her hooves again. "What? What's wrong?"

"The ink is all smudgy; I just can't tell. Sorry, sweetheart. I can't do anything for ya."

---

Sweetie Belle had successfully made the rest of the trip home without further acknowledging her subversive hallucinations. Her throat was thick with nerves, her coat was soaked with rain, her hooves saturated with rain, but at least the day was behind her and her warm bed was before her. Or at least, that was the plan until Sweetie was accosted by a mare in a dark cloak.

"Sweetie Belle! It is so good to see you again!" The stranger nuzzled Sweetie's neck, "It looks like you just delivered a very special foal."

Sweetie Belle roughly tossed off the stranger's embrace and shouted, "You know me? About this?! Who's the father, tell me!"

The stranger pulled back her hood, revealing a light purple face topped off by a dark purple mane with two highlights.

"Well, Sweetie Belle, I'm the father."

Comments

[New Spark]

Is that Twilight? What the fuck?

Besides that, AWESOME STORY!!! It's a great idea well fleshed out and it has just the right balance of normal shit and weird shit.