• Published 1st Jun 2012
  • 1,952 Views, 128 Comments

What the Heck - Zytharros



Where I let my mind wander for no good reason.

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Wherein IV: The Lost Cause That the Self-Insert Author Gave up on, and, Despite This, Another Author Asked Michael Bay to Direct an Independent Sequel

Continued with Scootareader's permission from Wherein III.


Zippo for Human Turned Into a Twenty-Percent-Cooler Newt but Got Better after Zeeky H. Bomb Blew Up the World While Ridin’ On Cars, By Michael Bay


The very first thing that came out of Scootareader’s wife was an explosion of nuclear proportions. Oh yeah. This was going to be a really good story.

Scootareader shed a manly tear. “I’ve waited all of eternity for this child to be born.”

Unfortunately, his child was not unique. When he had last performed the horizontal mambo with his wife, he had unleashed a torrent upon the universe so great he had impregnated without breaking a sweat all the mares in the world. This kid was about to become one of millions of new alicorns.

Mind, this would mark the end of the earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns except for Scootareader’s wife, which was a Ditto. Seriously, who wouldn’t love to have a shape-changer as their wife? Certainly not me, Zytharros, a crazy dude definitely unrelated to but certainly inspired by Scootareader, different but the same at the same time from his self-insert-but-not character that I’ve been given permission to write this horrendous mental malfunction of mental story-writing aptitude about.

But I digress.

Groans of females in painless, pleasureful labour rang out across the entire world. Even his dad, now his mom, now certainly unrelated, Darkness Awesome, and her own dad, now his mom, now certainly unrelated, Shadow Incredible, as well as every stallion in Equestria, had had changed genders and given birth to Scootareader’s half a trillion children. Yes, everyone except his actual wife, Celuna, who had obsoletely been two ponies before being literally physically joined in wilful servitude under their master, was now giving birth.

Yes I know what actual birth looks like, obviously. I don’t give a damn, and Equestrian mother labour rules don’t either.

The births were so pleasurable I can’t describe it because I’m too lazy and also the author, so my word is law. So when Celestia and Luna gave birth to Scootareader’s non-radiative-potency child, everyone was suddenly and instantly disappointed. The alicorn born was not a full-grown adult, like Scootareader or Shadow Incredible had been. It didn’t even have black-and-red hair, like its dad. No. This pony was a small foal, birthed from an explosion that should have obliterated its mother, like similar births were doing to every other pony in Equestria. But no. Scootareader had too big a heart to let that go, so he forgot things were exploding and all the lives of every pony in Equestria were saved, even his children. His child, however, had an entirely white coat, so dazzling it broke shades all around… except, of course, for Scootareader, Shadow, and Darkness’ shades.

Scootareader slipped on his glasses and said, “Yeah, I’m that awesome.”

As soon as this little princess looked up and saw Darkness Awesome, she leapt for his throat. The gore was so gory that the idea of gore itself, Al Gore, exploded. Then, Darkness Awesome exploded. Then reappeared. Then exploded again.

“Aww…” Scootareader cooed, “We found your newest chew toy.”

Suddenly, his child, who decided to call herself The Bucker, spoke with the voice of a cute Japanese girl. What she said will not be translated, so you only get half of the conversation. So says Zythar… ros.

The Bucker spoke some words.

“What did you say?” Scootareader asked.

The Bucker spoke some words again.

Scootareader just looked at her quizzically.

The Bucker looked angry, then leaped for Scootaloo’s throat. Scootareader let his daughter have her first meal: the obsidian diamond Scootaloo was holding.

“Aww… look at her tear through the rock.”

Blood joined the flying boulder pieces, which exploded into fireworks.

“I guess she likes the taste of chicken, too,” Scootareader observed.

A cone of DOOM appeared over Scootareader’s head.

“Awright, bitch, it’s on,” Scootareader growled, glaring at his not-child.

He never had a child. None of the new alicorns born that year were his children. No. They were abominations that must be killed, so he forgot them.

Scootareader’s opponent, the white Japanese alicorn that called herself The Bucker, that if you were to actually translate from Japanese would be a string of blasphemies and compliments against every ancestor who’s ever lived, and who came into being because of reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with her opponent that stood before her that was her father… was not… was too…

Stay tuned… we’ll be right back!

was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… was not… was too… okay, fine, was too… was not… HA!… Damn…

We now return to your regularly scheduled program.

, glared hard at him. Suddenly, she pulled out two Pocky-flavoured katanas. I know how they taste because I bit off the sharp points and swallowed them. That’s why I’m sitting in the hospital dead as I write this.

But, because I’m the author, I toss an H-bomb around with death and he drops it, blowing himself up. Thus, no one will die anymore in this story.

Then Diamond Tiara had a laugh attack and died.

“Damn laughter,” Death muttered from the dead side of the universe.

The Bucker muttered some unintelligible words that not even the Japanese would have understood before licking a sword and seppuku-ing herself into Deathland. Scootareader just stood there, smiling and proud of his daughter.

“Got my way!”

He slipped oadfonblfadm…“Holy matrimony… No, ya didn’t! I’m the author!”

“No, I am!”

“No, me!”

Stay tuned… we’ll be right back!

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“Me!”

“’Kay, fine… Just, don’t do any more of those elementary school arguing things. The readers are probably sick of them.”

“Says you.”

“…Shut up and write.”

As I “wasail”-ing before I was ever so rudely interrupted by my seventh wall ordering me around… what would I call it? Zytharroseven? Sevarros? Yeah, Sevarros.

“Oh crap. I’m about to be a character…”

“Damn straight!”

“[censored]… Hey! Why’d you beep me ou–” [TV end-of-day broadcast noise]

“Finally! I shut him up!”

We now return to your regularly scheduled program.

Scootareader slipped on another pair of shades and hid his river of pride. “She died an honourable daughter-kun.”

I know a little about what the Japanese suffixes mean, but for this brief point in history, “daughter” means “wife” and “kun” means “hot chick I’d bang because I’m in no way related to her by any stretch of the imagination.

Suddenly, Scootareader stopped. Something was amiss. He couldn’t quite feel what it was, but he knew something was wrong.

As for the rest of us, including me, the author, Zytharros, and the one wholly to blame for the continuation of this dreadfully craptastic series, we will have to wait for what Scootareader finds until next time… When the OCs Rebel.

Or, more specifically…

Wherein V: That Damn Author Should Never Have Taken Us from Scootareader: The Rebellion of the OCs: How Many Colons Can I Fit In a Title Block: The Threepresequelitisisisis!

Scootareader shouted as the screen shrunk to black, “Wait! You’re not our original…”

And then it pinched his neck, popped his head off with the sound of a Coke bottle spritzing open, and closed together with the sound of a kiss.

Applejack blushed, looked back at Darkness Awesome, and smiled a sexy smile. “Whah, thayat wuz thuh nahsist kiss on mah flank Ah’ve evah hayad!”

Darkness Awesome smiled a predatory smile. “Wait ‘til we get to Wherein V!”

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