Pedophilia Is Both Normal And Okay
It was another bright, beautiful day in Ponyville. The sun was shining, the grass was growing, the birds were singing, and the horrible parasite that lived in Sweetie Belle’s brain that hatched from the eggs in unfiltered tap water she drank on her family trip to Mexicolt continued to throb and grow, consuming more and more of the young unicorn’s scrumptious thought-meat.
But that’s a story for another time; now we divert our gaze to Sugarcube Corner, where a very special deal was taking place. The kind of deal that makes the symbiotic worms masquerading as thick, kinked hairs on my scrotum bristle in anticipation.
“Now, you’ll have them back by midnight, of course?” Mr. Cake asked Big Mac.
“Eeyup!™” Big Mac said, lying through his teeth, like he did whenever he said his trademarked saying. He hungrily eyed the two foals perched precariously on Mr. Cake’s back. “You needn’t worry none, Ah won’t do anythin’ unseemly with you kin.”
“Oh, I don’t give a shit about what you do with them,” Mr. Cake said, abandoning the flimsy pretext of care he had attempted to set up. “They’re not really my children; they’re the bastard spawn of some unknown stallions and my whore wife, whom I plan to kill in a murder-suicide in a few moments.”
Big Mac chuckled, knowing that Mr. Cake was one of the biggest pranksters in town. “Mighty fine joke, Mr. Cake.”
Mr. Cake stared at Big Mac, his horribly disproportionate eyes staring deeply into Big Mac’s own abominations of intelligent design. “I can assure you, this is no joke. I am stuck in a downward spiral of depression and homicidal thoughts in an attempt to validate my shattered and robbed masculinity in the the final moments of my life before I enter the great void.”
Big Mac bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter, but after but a few million microseconds, would find that it was simply impossible at that point. Snorting at first, spraying a fine mist of dust, hairs, and snot all over Mr. Cake’s face, his mouth opened as a hearty guffaw erupted from his laugh sacks.
“You really do split mah sides,” Big Mac said, with a chortle of mirth, wiping a single tear from his eye.
“I don’t know why you’re having this reaction,” Mr. Cake said, his brow furrowing in perplexment. “I’m not kidding; I’m honestly having a hard time not releasing my repressed homicidal rage into you right now, but I know that killing you would only diminish the ultimate release when I butcher my adulterous partner.”
Big Mac snortled and tiggled (an amalgamation of snorting and chortling and tittering and giggling, respectively), and scooped the tender twins up into his grasp with a swift sweep of his forelimb. He plopped them on to his back, and trotted out of Sugarcube Corner, whistling a jaunty southern tune as he went.
As Big Mac and the foals retreated from the building, horrible screams and various hacking, whacking, and slashing sounds echoing behind them.
“Glad to see they’re figurin’ out their differences by talking it all out; Openness and honesty is an important part of any relationship,” Big Mac said, addressing the audience of impressionable young children watching at home, or if they’re like me, through the window of their next door neighbor’s home, because my parents beat me whenever they found out I was watching My Little Pony. My father “didn’t raise no faggot horsefucker”, he’d shout, whipping my fragile flesh with a belt he modified with bamboo splinters and and metal studs, which he had dubbed “The Purifier”. My mother would just sit on the side, shaking her head and crying, distraught that I had pushed my father to such lengths with my sinful and wicked ways. The guilt of raising such a disobedient, filthy whelp such as I eventually pushed her to suicide. Some birthday that was.
Big Mac hardly had any time to care about the Cakes civilly working out their marital issues or the lacerations that have yet to heal on my fragile, young body, despite such wounds being inflicted years ago; he had but one goal to pursue, and that was taking Pound and Pumpkin on the hottest, sweatiest, most romantic, pulsating, throbbing, spermatozoa splattered, SFW date of their infant lives. He had even reserved a spot at the premier pedo pony eatery in town: The Gilded Irreversible Child Trauma.
Big Mac opened the doors to the haven of pedophile activities, and was instantly greeted by cheers and clapping. Big Mac was something of a celebrity in the Ponyville pedo community; there was hardly a foal one could name that he hadn’t defiled. He’d deflowered Apple Bloom; he’d stirred Silver Spoon; he’d worn Diamond Tiara; he’d shot his arrows into Archer; he’d towered over Pipsqueak; he’d rung Sweetie Belle; he’d rumbled in the jungle with Rumble; he’d pinched Berry Pinch; he’d snipped Snips; he’d salted Snails; he’d danced in the rain with Pina Colada; he’d dug around in the dirt for Truffle Shuffle; and he fucked the shit out of Scootaloo. And now, Big Mac was going to complete the set by baking both the Cake Twins, “baking” being used as a euphemism for “molesting” in this instance instead of its literal meaning of cooking food by dry heat without direct exposure to a flame, typically in an oven or on a hot surface.
There were all manners of foal fiddlers hanging out in The Gilded Irreversible Child Trauma that night, each one more foal-fiddly than the last. Indeed, it was one of the few places their ilk could gather; they were rightfully belittled and attacked for being the abominations of nature that they are anywhere else. Big Mac was only able to walk down the street without harassment because he was pardoned by Princess Twilight, who, while disgusted by Big Mac’s actions, took it out as a personal favor for Applejack, who had been molested as a foal by her brother so many times that she developed one of the most intense cases of Stockholm Syndrome ever witnessed. Indeed, she revered her brother as something of a god, come to purify her weak and unworthy flesh with his superior divine essence, and forcing her to sire many holy demigods as a result of their union.
The patrons of the restaurant ranged from those who, like Big Mac, took great pleasure in literal sex with foals, to merely those who enjoyed pornography of said foals, colloquially known as “foalcon”. Don’t be fooled; those who enjoy foalcon are just as bad as those who actually have sex with foals, even if the foalcon is something fictional, like a drawing or a story. They deserve just as harsh, if not harsher, punishment for their crimes against equinity.
But here they were, drinking, laughing, eating, and sharing tales of foals fucked, both real and imagined. God, it makes me sick just typing these words, thinking about how these nasty perverts have been able to spread their tendrils of evil and indecency to all corners of the earth. If it were up to me, we’d have another Holocaust, but with pedophiles instead of Jews. Oh, and Serbians. Fuck Serbians.
Big Mac set the Cake Twins down on his reserved table, and smiled at the waiter. “The usual, please,” Big Mac said. “And bring somethin’ nice for the foals, it’s their first night out.”
The waiter nodded, thousands of curses and spiteful remarks aimed towards Big Mac clambering and skittering around his brain much like the parasite in Sweetie Belle’s that you’ve probably forgotten about until now. The waiter hated pedos! The whole pedo season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason. He only took this job because the Equestrian economy is so shit. But what else can we expect from a black man in the white house purple alicorn in the crystal tree?
Big Mac stared lustfully at the two foals sitting across from him in the booth. Pumpkin was sucking on her hoof lewdly in a manner infants tend to do, and Pound was definitely giving him the “fuck me” eyes. Oh, they’d have fun later.
The waiter returned with Big Mac’s regular serving of food, a single hayburger and a side of hay fries. He shot Big Mac a look of utter disgust, his blood boiling at the thought of the amount of foals Big Mac had fiddled. Why, there must have been at least forty fiddle foals! Forty! That’s as many as four tens! And that’s terrible.
For the foals, he delivered them two bottles of tit juice, freshly gathered from the North Equestrian Spotted Tit. Pumpkin and Pound took the bottles in their tiny hooves, and clumsily guided them to their mouths, sucking upon the rubber nipples like they had once sucked upon their mother’s fleshy ones, which they would no longer be doing considering that she was now in multiple pieces, being spread about a nearby lake.
Big Mac stared hungrily at the Cake Twins as they sucked the tit juice down into their gullets, salivating slightly as arousal coursed through his body. His mind was flooded with terrible images of debauchery that would soon follow their dining experience. He knew that if the Cake Twins were anything like the others foals, they would, much like my skin after my dad took an acetylene torch to my arm once he found out I had purchased a figurine of Twilight Sparkle from a local hobby shop, melt in his hooves.
His jaw unhinged in a serpentine manner, and he swallowed his meal whole, plate and all. That was going to hurt in a few hours, but Big Mac knew it was worth it. Nowhere else is there ceramic that tastes as good as the plates from The Gilded Irreversible Child Trauma.
Big Mac licked his lips, unable to contain his lust any longer. His forelimbs sprung up, his hoof-like hands grasping for the two foals seated across from him. In one fell swoop, he had them in his pedophillic grasp, and dragged them across the table just like the local authorities of Ponyville will have to drag a nearby lake for the body of their mother. His eyes wide, the fire of pure pedophilia lit within, he brought them to his lips, his fop moist with the sweat of anticipation.
And he tenderly kissed their bellies and snuggled them against his chest in a very SFW fashion. Go somewhere else for your child porn, you pedophillic freaks.
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>MFW before and after reading this
Seriously though you're such a diabolical genius.
197/10 would fap again.
Wait...
What was that about the parasites?
It's wrong! It's sick! It's horrible to behold! Look:
You said "and" twice here.
i1149.photobucket.com/albums/o595/moviemaster8510/miff_zpsroitguie.png
I can only assume 7+ people got really triggered by this ending, went outside, kidnapped an 8-year old little princess in pigtails and a pink dress or two, and channeled their frustration right into their tiny little cunts.
Nah, I'm just kidding, bronies don't go outside.
7101943 I was stuttering; it's very difficult for me to talk about that
7101951
savage
This is hawt. Well done Regidar, two thumbs up.
You unoriginal twat.
This was funny.
7101951 It was a six year old, cuntmuffin.
This fic was okay but since the only other good entry's author was banned, you better win.
Do you want a lawsuit? Because THAT'S HOW YOU GET A LAWSUIT.
Regidar.
You magnificent bastard.
Meanwhile, in Regidar's room.
dashie.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw11294-eqg_twilight_keyboard.gif
cdn.xl.thumbs.canstockphoto.com/canstock26971507.jpg
This thing.
This is the best thing.
7102239 I don't even know how to enter it into the contest tbh
It's times like this I really don't know how to feel about myself or anyone else really.
But I have to agree, fuck serbians.
I was laughing from the moment I started reg, hilarious
7102788 thank you goatmom
7102490 Dont worry I've added your fic to the contest's folder.
Thank you for your entry and I'll admit this did get a lot of chuckles out of me
7103216 sexcellent
Even without looking at the top right, I can already see all the downvotes from rustled jimmies.
I have a feeling that reading the comments will be even more entertaining than reading the story.
I realize crackfics aren't my cup of tea, but this is neither remotely T nor SFW nor worth reading.
For some reason, I'm still following you.
Haha, straight to the point, hilarious. Thumbs up.
Poor sweetie belle...
7103654
I write good things sometimes too
7104095
You do! I actually know why I am following you I was just being silly.
Awesome
7104095
FWIW, I'm actually mildly concerned about this getting reported. I know you need it to be T for the contest but I think it needs some editing to not be M. It's pretty explicit right now.
I would not be the one to hit the button, though.
7104633 alright, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it
thank you for looking out for me though, it is appreciated
kek
7102967 sometimes I think I should change my username just so I'm not just called goatmom
Twisted, but in a good way.
0/10 no vivid decription of Mr./Mrs. Cake's passionite death sex
Best fic out there?
7119032 not even close
The balance of power must be preserved.
I was recommended this by a friend. Thank you God for this wonderful man.
Fill that word limit.
I feel like I should call the police and have them look at this. No joke.
7376464 shh
it's okay
k
Your race jokes are tasteless.
7619368 it was just a prank bro
The War of 1812 was a military conflict that lasted from June 18, 1812 to February 18, 1815, fought by the United States of America against Great Britain, its North American colonies, and its North American Indian allies. Historians in the United States and Canada see it as a war in its own right, but Europeans sometimes see it as a minor theatre of the Napoleonic Wars, as it was caused by issues related to that war (especially the Continental System). By the war's end in early 1815 the key issues had been resolved and peace came with no boundary changes.
The United States declared war for several reasons, including trade restrictions brought about by the British war with France, the impressment of as many as 10,000 American merchant sailors into the Royal Navy,[5] British support for Native American tribes fighting American settlers on the frontier, outrage over insults to national honor during the Chesapeake–Leopard Affair, and possible American interest in annexing British territory.[6] The primary British war goal was to defend their North American colonies, although they also hoped to set up a neutral Indian buffer state in the Midwest.
The war was fought in three theatres. First, at sea, warships and privateers of each side attacked the other's merchant ships, while the British blockaded the Atlantic coast of the United States and mounted large raids in the later stages of the war. Second, land and naval battles were fought on the U.S.–Canadian frontier. Third, large-scale battles were fought in the Southern United States and Gulf Coast. At the end of the war, both sides signed and ratified the Treaty of Ghent and, in accordance with the treaty, returned occupied land, prisoners of war and captured ships (though neither side returned the other's warships due to frequent re-commissioning upon capture) to its pre-war owner and resumed friendly trade relations without restriction.
With the majority of its land and naval forces tied down in Europe fighting the Napoleonic Wars, the British used a predominantly defensive strategy in the Provinces of Upper and Lower Canada. Early victories over poorly-led U.S. armies, such as in the Battle of Queenston Heights, demonstrated that the conquest of the Canadas would prove more difficult than anticipated. Despite this, the U.S. was able to inflict serious defeats on Britain's Native American allies, ending the prospect of an Indian confederacy and an independent Native American state in the Midwest under British sponsorship. U.S. forces were also able to make several gains and score victories on the Canadian frontier; taking control of Lake Erie in 1813, seizing western parts of Upper Canada. However, a large-scale U.S. attempt to capture Montreal was repulsed in November 1813. Despite the major U.S. victory at Chippawa on July 5, 1814, serious U.S. attempts to fully conquer Upper Canada were ultimately abandoned following the bloody Battle of Lundy's Lane on July 25, 1814. The U.S. then fell back roughly 30 km (19 mi) from Lundy's Lane to Fort Erie, where they withstood a siege for several months. The British eventually withdrew, but as winter set in, the Americans demolished the fort and fell back across the Niagara.
In April 1814, with the defeat of Napoleon, the British adopted a more aggressive strategy, sending larger invasion armies and tightening their naval blockade. However, with the end of the Napoleonic Wars in Europe, both governments were eager for a return to normality and peace negotiations began in Ghent in August 1814. In the Deep South, General Andrew Jackson destroyed the military strength of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation at the Battle of Horseshoe Bend. In September 1814, the British won the Battle of Hampden, allowing them to occupy eastern Maine, and the British victory at the Battle of Bladensburg in August 1814 allowed them to capture and burn Washington, D.C. They were repulsed, however, in an attempt to take Baltimore and Fort Bowyer, and during their assault at Fayal. An American victory in September 1814 at the Battle of Plattsburgh repulsed the British invasions of New York, which, along with pressure from merchants on the British government, prompted British diplomats to drop their demands at Ghent for an independent native buffer state and territorial claims that London previously sought. Given that it took six weeks for ships to cross the Atlantic, news of the peace treaty did not arrive before the British suffered a major defeat at New Orleans in January 1815.[7]
In the United States, late victories over invading British armies at the battles of Plattsburg, Baltimore (inspiring the United States national anthem, "The Star-Spangled Banner") and New Orleans produced a sense of euphoria over a "second war of independence" against Britain.[8][9] The war ended on a high note for Americans, winning the final engagements of the war and bringing an "Era of Good Feelings" in which partisan animosity nearly vanished in the face of strengthened American nationalism. The war was also a major turning point in the development of the U.S. military. The poor performance of several U.S. militia units, particularly during the 1812–13 invasions of Canada and the 1814 defence of Washington, convinced the U.S. government of the need to move away from its Revolutionary-era reliance on militia and focus on creating a more professional regular force. Spain was involved in fighting in Florida but was not an official belligerent; some Spanish forces fought alongside the British during the Occupation of Pensacola. The U.S. took permanent ownership of Spain's Mobile District.
In Upper and Lower Canada, British and local Canadian militia victories over invading U.S. armies became iconic and promoted the development of a distinct Canadian identity, which included strong loyalty to Britain. Today, particularly in Ontario, memory of the war retains its significance, because the defeat of the invasions ensured that the Canadas would remain part of the British Empire, rather than be annexed by the United States. In Canada, numerous ceremonies took place in 2012 to commemorate the war, offer historical lessons and celebrate 200 years of peace across the border.[10] The conflict has not been commemorated on nearly the same level in the modern-day United States, though it is still taught as an important part of early American history,[11] and Dolley Madison's and Andrew Jackson's respective roles in the war are especially emphasized.[12][13] The war is scarcely remembered in Britain, being heavily overshadowed by the much larger Napoleonic Wars occurring in Europe.
7641346 jokes on you
I'm a history major
You just c/p'd something I already had an intimate knowledge of
7641567 I was gonna post that brownie recipe that was posted as a Bad Rats review, but Valve never ceases to fuck up and they made looking for popular reviews an ordeal. So you get this.
wtf did i just read Oo
also tushe -.-
Wtf is this cancer?
Dude Tysm love it