• Published 11th Aug 2017
  • 2,589 Views, 420 Comments

Princess Cadance's Lonely Hearts Club Land - kudzuhaiku



Look at all of the lonely ponies, where do they all come from? Furious Funnel comes from Appleloosa, and he's looking for somepony to be with him when he's sixty four.

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Chapter 11

They had killed the Mockingbird and Furious knew that there would be consequences, but he just couldn’t be bothered to care. Crop Duster was super bubbly now—from both ends no less—and was in a playful, flirty mood. Furious could handle his liquor quite well, having spent a lot of time wearing smooth the various barstools of Appleloosa, but Crop Duster was having her first real drunk, her first hootenanny, and it fell on him to be her foalsitter while she had a grand time out.

He had left his hat and his satchel back at the hotel room to keep them safe and because he didn’t know what might happen. He had a few coins tucked away—nifty little pegasus trick that he’d have to teach to Crop Duster because it was obvious that she didn’t know—and if more money was needed they could always return to the hotel room.

“Everything feels so bright and beautiful, Flurious.” Crop Duster’s words had something of a slur to them and she swayed from side to side as she stood still. “And you’re handsome. You’re really handsome. I don’t remember you being this handsome and right now, I kind of want to nibble on your ear because it looks like dehydrated fruit. Yesh!”

With a sweet, innocent smile, she hiked up her tail, let rip a short but ear piercing blast, and then dropped her tail once more. Most of the backlog of pressure seemed gone and what escaped now was the new pressure before it had a chance to build. Though shorter, these new blasts were no less eye watering and sounded like somepony shuffling about five decks of cards stacked together.

“I feel hot,” she announced, and then, without a word of warning, she spread her wings and flew away.

Furious, spreading his own wings, went after her.


Swooping down low and slow, Crop Duster skimmed the surface of the long rectangular reflecting pool that had a massive ornate fountain in the middle. The rather large body of water had no swimmers and was empty, but that didn’t stop her from having fun. Her hooves left behind rippling wakes as she skated over the surface, stomping and splashing with her hooves. All around the plaza where the reflection pool was located, ponies stopped to stare.

Furious had himself a good long look as well.

She seemed to dance over the surface of the water, moving with surprising grace even with her current level of inebriation, which seemed to be growing. When he flew in a little closer, he could hear her humming to herself and something about that caused a powerful feeling of attraction for him. Something about her happiness did it for him and he could feel the fires of arousal ignite within him.

When he flew too close, she splashed him, kicking water at him with her legs. Laughing, she changed directions and continued her dance across the surface of the water, which many ponies were watching at the moment. He gave chase and she wiggled her rump at him while flicking her tail. Too late, he flew into her slipstream and got a faceful of stink.

How she laughed and laughed, and then with a powerful flap of her wings, she zoomed off, racing towards the far end of the long reflecting pool. He followed, intoxicated more by her laughter, her beauty, and her infectious happiness than by the tequila he had imbibed. The laughter gave way to humming, a sweet, sincere sound of happiness, and Furious followed after, entranced.

Then, without warning, she dived.


The reflecting pool was far deeper than Furious expected and he followed after his bride submerged in the water. A long stream of bubbles shot out from behind her, in fact, the water seemed to boil around her hindquarters. Amidst the sound of swimming and bodies moving through the water, something else far more dreadful could be heard, something vulgar and crude that was almost, but not quite, whalesong.

The remains of the day came streaming down through the surface of the water, filling the space around him with beautiful crepuscular rays. Crop Duster’s curly tail trapped many bubbles and it flowed from out behind her, looking as though it was filled with beautiful round gemstones or maybe precious pearls. Her stout, stocky legs kicked and scissored, propelling her through the water, and a million brilliant bubbles were trapped in the feathers of her wings, looking like tiny diamonds as they reflected the sunlight from above.

She rolled over in the water and he almost got himself an eyeful of her goods, but the bubbles clinging to her desirable places obscured his view. He strained to look, to see, and even more bubbles squirted out of her backside, only to go roiling up to the surface. Kicking his legs, he swam closer, tempted by what she had to offer and hoping to see more of it. The need for air became too strong, and he surfaced.


Crop Duster’s head bobbed in the water and she had a crazy grin that spread from ear to ear. For a moment, her snoot dropped beneath the surface, and when it came back up again, her cheeks bulged. Before he could even protest, he was squirted in the face with a arcing stream of water. He slapped the water with his front hooves and retreated while sporting a reckless, roguish smirk beneath his mustache.

With a great splash, her body bobbed up to the surface and she floated there, flapping her wings and shedding excess water. Mid-flap, she let out a happy little quack, then another, and then there was a steady stream of happy quacking that poured from her mouth. Furious realised that this was her song, the voice of her inner pegasus and he listened while he allowed his own body to rise to the surface. Together, the two of them bobbed in the water like a fine pair of waterfowl, and Crop Duster continued her drunken quacking.

She was happy. Of course, she was also drunk, but she was happy enough to let free her inner song. Furious had never discovered his inner song, though he had spent some time trying to find it. He bobbed beside his bride with his legs folded up against his belly, watching as the water went rolling off of her back, her wings, and down her neck. Her frizzy curls were heavy with water now and clung to her curvy, graceful neck in ringlets.

“Hey there, Mister Mustache, do you want to know one of my secrets?”

“I want to know all of yer secrets.” This was true—he really did want to know all of her secrets, he wanted to know everything about her. With time and trust, he might.

“I pee in the tub,” she confessed in a low, playful whisper and she gave him a wink. “Even now that I’m all grown up, I still do it. It’s a guilty pleasure and I know how awful it is.” For a moment, her face scrunched up in intense concentration and then she shot a blast of bubbles out from behind her. “Oh that feels good to just let everything out.”

The sudden stink was like a slap in the face and Furious’ withered nostrils crinkled.

The reflecting pool was all theirs. No other pony joined them, nopony else dove in. They stood on the shore, watching, some were laughing, and a few snapped photos. Furious failed to notice them because he only had eyes for Crop Duster, and she let out a few more drunken quacks while she waved at the ponies standing at the edge of the water.

“Am I pretty?” she asked and she tilted her head off to one side while looking coy.

“Yes, yer pretty,” he replied as he drifted a little closer to her.

“Well, I think you’re handsome, in your own way. Right now, there is something I rather like about you.” She batted her eyelashes and then tilted her head in the other direction. A moment later, she let rip again, and the force of the blast was so powerful that she floated closer to Furious, almost coming nose to nose with him. Tittering, she had another confession to make and did so in a heaving whisper: “I’m peeing right now.

This caused Furious to start chuckling.

“The strange quirky filly with the regrettable disability has found somepony who seems to like her just the way she is. She’s happy, but she is also a whole lot confused, because real life turned out to be quite different than books… and this in and of itself causes a great deal of confusion, because up to this point, all of her best friends had been books. So, now, this quirky filly, she is thinking to herself, maybe, just maybe, she brought this on herself. These friends of hers, these books, they were of the wrong crowd and perhaps mother and father’s warning about staying away from the wrong crowd should also apply to books.” The looseness of her words and the slur was growing stronger, but she didn’t seem to care and plowed onwards, oblivious.

“I feel suddenly sexy,” Crop Duster announced, and she swam away from Furious trailing a roiling stream of bubbles behind her. “Whew, that fanny frog that had a big ribbit!” Extending her wings, she began to wave them around and her attempt to wave away the outpouring of her o-ring oboe turned into an impromptu plumage display. When she realised what it was that she was doing, she went with it and kept going while throwing a coy look in Furious’ direction.

She clambered up onto the fountain in the middle, shedding rivulets of water down her sides. An entire ocean seemed to empty from her tail and she gave her sodden, waterlogged appendage a few mighty shakes to help sling some of the trapped water away. She didn’t know it, but she was beautiful in this moment with the late afternoon sun striking her from a low angle. Furious was transfixed and from where he bobbed in the water, he stared, stricken.

With a grunt, she tossed her head back, her back arched, and her tail flagged high when she braced her body for a powerful shake. The shake started in the front when she tossed her head around, going from side to side, and her sleek pelt rippled as it sent water droplets flying. The ripples traveled backwards, flowing along her ribs, down her sides, until it hit her well padded thighs and made them jiggle in the most enticing manner imaginable. Balanced on the edge of the fountain’s basin, she cut a remarkable figure, having a body that enjoyed all of the benefits and rewards of maturity, while still having something young and rather fillyish about her.

Then, armed only with the mystical powers that come from imbibing about a half a bottle of tequila, Crop Duster expressed her newfound sense of sexuality the only way she knew how: she spread her wings and struck a pose. With a curious drunken balance, she stood on the narrow edge of the fountain’s basin, and she waved her wings around in a suggestive display for all of the world to see.

Smitten, Furious had to join her, so he too made the labourious climb up out of the water like a life form deciding it was time to live on land. He struggled and his creaky knees wobbled a bit, but he managed. While Crop Duster was trying a variation on the old ‘wave & shake,’ Furious responded with a ‘twist & turn,’ rotating his wings in their sockets until their undersides were visible from his frontside and their topsides were visible from his backside.

This was met with a lot of hooting and hollering on shore as the gathered ponies continued to watch. Crop Duster made a clumsy fan display, bringing her wings straight up over her back, touching the edges together, and forming a ‘fan’ of perfect feathers all in a row. For a first attempt, it wasn’t bad, at least based on the amount of cheering coming from the crowd.

Puffing out his chest and his barrel, Furious filled himself with air, braced his front legs, held his head high, and then did a forward thrust with his wings, extending the points of his primaries out behind his face like spear tips. The sight of it made Crop Duster bite her lip and her olive pelt blushed brown while she quacked in approval of what her mate had to offer.

She too, sucked in wind and her plush chest scruffle sprang out in an eye-popping display. Water still glistened, clinging to the thicker, somewhat larger longer hairs like glittering diamonds. Her cheeks bulged with effort, leaving her eyes narrowed due to their massive, over-inflated size, and she tried to perform a ‘jab & stab’ with her wings. Angling them just so with the tips pointing at Furious, she jabbed them and stabbed them in his direction, shedding water in a magnificent spray.

On the edge of the water, an elderly crystal pony mare fainted from the shameless display and would have tumbled right into the reflection pool had somepony not grabbed her. The performing pegasus ponies were oblivious, only having eyes for each other, (not to mention only having three eyes between them) and they continued their shameless, pornographic display while standing on the rim of a very public fountain.

Water from the basin spilled over their hooves, moving in a continual flow. In the middle of the basin were large, decorative jets of water that shot skywards, coming out in brief, exciting bursts. It was into the basin that Furious tumbled when his bad leg gave out and he lost his balance. He went down laughing, plopping into the basin with a splash, then rolled and tumbled in the water while trying to get his hooves back beneath him.

With a quack of triumph, Crop Duster lept into the basin with a splash, wobbled for a moment while trying to figure out where her balance went, and advanced upon her struggling husband. Holding out her hoof, she made an attempt to boop him on the snoot, but missed. Biting her lip and concentrating, she tried again, and again, but kept missing each time.

Back on his hooves again, Furious reached up with his crooked leg, squinted, stuck out his tongue, and on his first try, he booped his bride on her snoot, causing her to puff and fluff in response. With her wing, she slapped his hoof away, laughing, then turned about and waggled her rump at him. Afterwards, she pooted with a firecracker bang and sprang away to go and play in the water jets in the center of the basin.

Furious followed, his mind ablaze from the somewhat revealing rump-waggle.

Crop Duster danced among the jets with little hops and skips, showing off her wings, and somehow revealing every salient feature of her pegasus sexuality. She placed her pert, rounded rump over a water jet and let it spray her underside, all while making wide eyes with a shocked expression done for drama rather than reaction. For Furious, all he could think about was where the water must be spraying, and his brain desperately made an effort to construct a mental image of what must be happening.

Quacking, she began to bob her head up and down, extending and shortening her neck, and she made crazy, wild waving gestures with her wings while she pronked among the water jets. Then, once more, she parked her hindquarters over a water jet and then made silly faces when the water squirted into her nooks and crannies. Furious, perhaps a bit more intoxicated than he realised, began to do what his mother and his aunt had warned him to never do in public: he began to preen himself.

Standing among the water jets, this seemed like an ideal place, and he started with his brown wing first. He went to work, making swift, practiced motions, and when he pulled his lips along one of his long, central primaries, Crop Duster froze in place with her wings fully extended and twitching. Her mouth hung open in a somewhat slack-jawed expression, and her orange tongue made reflexing lapping motions, moving with the slow motivation of muscle memory.

“Hubba hubba,” was Crop Dusters’ husky, lusty utterance and any knowledgeable observer could see that her wings were throbbing at the moment. She made a faint mewling sound, her dock flagged high while her back muscles quivered, and one hind hoof struck the massive bronze basin, making a mighty ringing sound that was like a bell tolling, announcing to all of the Crystal Empire that the time for nookie had come in place of teatime.

It was about this time that the first of the guards began to show up.

Author's Note:

Next chapter: Flash Sentry in a likeable role.