Chapter 2: Magical Meat
TIME: 21:21
DATE: 03/14/84
LOCATION: 36.1215° N, 115.1739° W, right outside the city limits of Nal Regas
Well, this was certainly a weird one. We got a call from Nal Regas of all places. Not really all that typical, since that bastardized super-church center never asks anyone for help. Well, help that isn’t money or organs, anyhow.
Basically, what they wanted was for someone to check their sewers. Either it was another rat-people uprising, or some damn hippies had found another atomic bomb stored down there. Seriously, they hid them like easter eggs all underneath the city.
Of course, we had no option but to say yes. You don’t say no to Nal Regas. Especially their master-in-chief-in-duty-kicking-communist-butt, Reagan Supreme.
So we got a few technicians scrambled and sent some muscle along the way in case things got dicey. You never know when a plasma-fist to the face can save your life.
The team’s only description of what to look for was a disturbance. Something about music and strange colors. All music other than Western tunes and pokla were banned (no wonder the suicide and zombie rate was so high there), so the team was told to keep their ears out for anything strange.
After around twelve minutes and over fifteen rat-people attacks, the original group of a dozen was down to just three. The muscle, which in these circumstances we’ll just call Muscles, the technician, who we’ll just call Tech, and, of course, the team leader and official strategist… Steve.
We really need to hire smarter people.
Anyway, from their reports at the heart of the sewers, they discovered something amazing. An entire underground zombie society completely obsessed with gambling. Also, strippers. From the sounds of Muscles’ vomits, the zombie strippers weren’t all that appealing. Although Tech said the booze was pretty good. And Steve was… well…
Dear Gawd, Steve, he’s a fraggin’ idiot.
Anyway, seems like Reagan Supreme (if I don’t type it like that I’m liable to be crucified) had dumped anyone who didn’t want to join his super-church centered around Hollywood actors into the depths of the sewers. This was basically everyone. But hey, at least we had found the portal.
Deep within the labyrinth of zombified flesh, cheap booze, and decaying genitalia proudly displayed, the team found what they were called down there looking for. A portal to another world. And from its depths could be heard the most beautiful music ever heard… if you were seven and had the intelligence of fruit. Which was around three-fifths of Amerikans, so go figure.
This is the recording we picked up from when the team entered the portal.
“Whoa, look, colorful midget horses!”
“Uh, Tech, what is Steve trying to do?”
“Looks like he’s trying to ride one of those things.”
“Gawddamnit Steve, get back here before I plasma-fist you so hard you’ll be shitting lava for a week!”
“Oh dear Celestia, not you people again.”
“Wait, did that purple one recognize us?”
“Well, you guys are do look the same. Ugly, dirty, and smelling vaguely of deep-fried hair.”
“Wow, rude. Also, totally racist.”
The rest of the transmission went along the lines of this midget horse called Twilight Sparkle (weird coincidence, that’s also the name of a popular Swedish death metal group) telling the rest of the team to beat it. Apparently these ‘ponies’ (I use this term extremely loosely because they really do look like a bunch of horses with their legs and bodies cut in half and then freakishly patched together to appear small, but we all really know what’s going on) already had some experience with us humans. I’m surprised the ponies are still alive, considering that most humans would have eaten them already.
I wonder what midget horse meat tastes like…
Anyway, a new player entered the game after that. This one horse with wings (bird-gene-splicing? altered clones? mutations? plastic surgery?) approached the group. Her name was Fluttershy (no relation to the former Dictator of Australialand I’m afraid to say) and she was instantly interested with the team. Apparently we were a never before seen species or some shit like that. If the aliens didn’t give two damns about us, why should mutant midget horses?
So yeah, here’s what we managed to get from their transmission.
“Dude, you’re eating the grass.”
“Better than what they serve back home.”
“...what flavor grass is that?”
“Greetings. Oh, no, don’t be alarmed. My name is Fluttershy.”
“Is that yellow horse talking to us?”
“Nah, just Steve.”
“Why isn’t she scared outta her fraggin’ mind?”
“Because Steve is dressed in a bunny suit.”
“Exactly my point!”
Note to self: confiscate all bunny suits from future operations.
“Steve, is it? My friend Twilight has told me so much about you from your last visit!”
“Fluttershy, don’t touch it. It might have a disease. Actually, I’m almost positive it has several.”
“Oh, Twilight, don’t worry. He’s just curious is all. Awww, look at him rolling around in the grass.”
“He’s trying to get rid of his fleas.”
“And look at what a good job he’s doing!”
This boring monologue continued for an agonizing two minutes, so I’m just skipping to the main point.
“Steve, would you mind telling me where you came from?”
“A hole.”
“Oh, so you live underground?”
“Ever since the robot toaster uprising, yeah.”
“Robot… toasters?”
“Funny thing is that when they came up with AI they made sure to put a ‘repress kill all humans’ instinct drive onto their mainframe. But only for robots that can, well, actually kill you. No one bothered to put the drive in the toasters. Then what you get is total toaster annihilation of most of the west coast, burned around the edges.”
“That’s… uh… interesting.”
“So, what do you do?”
“I take care of animals.”
“HEY GUYS, THEY HAVE FREE FOOD HERE!”
After that, the team booked it to Fluttershy’s cottage to grab as many animals as possible to feast upon. Muscles managed to snatch a chicken before that princess pony blew off his right hand with a laser-horn-magic-something-stupid-energy bolt. But hey, at least he can replace it with another plasma-fist and do double the fisting now. Heh, heh…
…
I have now been alerted that Muscles died recently double plasma-fisting himself. The poor, lonely bastard…
Anyway, Tech grabbed a pig and high-tailed it back to the portal. The porker is currently under question with our top scientists to discover more about its world. Word has yet to reply of any success.
Finally, Steve. By Gawd, Steve, you’re such a fraggin’ idiot.
He tried to whisk one of the ponies away. Something about—and these are using his words—what magical midget horse meat tastes like. Before he could fill us in on this important query (I bet it tastes like oranges stuffed in tacos), the portal closed, trapping Steve on the other side. Luckily, we managed to snag one last message from him before the connection was lost, possibly forever.
“You can't do this! I have rights! Freedoms! A Constitution that's currently sinking in the bottom of the ocean when Atlantis attacked, but still! If I wanna eat someone, I'll eat them! It's my life, unlife, liberty, unlibery, and pursuit of fraggin' happiness and every other feeling on the emotional chart! Give me meat, or give me—wait, no, not the face! Ahhhhhhhhhh!”
Today is truly a sad day for us all. Well, not really, because Reagan Supreme gave us a buttload of credits for getting rid of the portal. Plus, I hear chicken is on the menu. Time to spend all the money on zombie hookers!
Hooray!
Stats
Page generated in 0.059 seconds
Total duration
1,027 users online
237,481 hits today, 2,280,440 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Australia!
Hawaii.
5383551
isn't that already fucked up and filled with radiation?
5383551
5383628
You can always add more radiation!
5383634
true....
on a differnt note i would like to see japan...
a horrible and fucked up japan, that or russia
5381679 someone get Jim Gaffigan on the phone damn it!
5380911 thepaperwall.com/wallpapers/sci-fi/big/big_cf2ff23e88ac326bd7f6e513943a7f141d48069d.jpg
Santa's Workshop (North Pole /real one)
A parody apocalypse meets Equestria, and that's about it.
Wat
European China!
There's a place called Equestria somewhere in South Africa... just saying...
Want a parody of post apocalyptic japan?
Add more tentacles!
Canada! Canada! Canada!
Let the ponies know of beer, and syrup and lumber!
I vote for Victoria Island of the great Amerikan Japanese empire (which only consists of Victoria as the Wake Island rebellion launched nukes at the rainbow republic and the rest of the empire in their "blaze of glory 420")
Sorry, too much brainfuck,
this is a too nonsensical for me and also, I only schmunzelt (chuckled) weakly one measly time.
I'm out of here.
Australia.
And don't forget the Mad Max references. We must see cyborg Mel Gibson.
5382387 touché :P
We have Reagan Supreme.
Does Germany have MechaHitler?
Is New Jersey going to be the last chapter?
5383780
fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/357/9/7/hoof_up_by_comeha-d6z0jqb.png?wrap=true
5383634
How about Antartica? Fluttershy kidnaps penguins.
africa?
DA MOON!!! WITH NIRTMER MERN!!!
5384786
And a ridiculous amount of overblown nationalist stereotypes!
5383634 reminds me of that line in Hellsing Ultimate Abridged 5
skip to 7 minutes 55 seconds if it doesn't automatically.
Atlantis attacked? Well, I know I'd like to see Atlantis portrayed now. If not, possibly the UK?
*sniff* RIP in peace, Steve.
You will be missed...until the next Steve shows up.
"What load of bs is that?"
2 min later...
*Screams of horror in the background*
"WE DIDN'T LISTEN! WE DIDN'T LISTEN!"
Australialand!!
Reminds me of Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon.
Classic Steve!
I'm afraid to even ask