• Published 30th Nov 2017
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Past Conditional: More Speedfics and Drabbles by Present Perfect - PresentPerfect



Another collection of speedfics and other stuff. Most of it is really goofy.

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Be All That Yona Can Be

Be All That Yona Can Be
by Present Perfect

Sandbar wiped the lingering effects of the shrooms from his eyes and gazed at Yona in the way only a horny teenager can gaze at another teenager.

"Yona," he said in his stupid, bland way, "it doesn't really matter if you're a great pony or a horrible pony. You're the best Yona I know. That's why I asked you to the dance."

"Really?" asked Yona. In her defense, it wasn't so much that she was dumb as Sandbar was really not good at explaining. Like, anything.

"I never wanted you to be anything other than what you are," he said with a light chuckle. "My friend, Yona, the yak. So, what do you say?"

Yona stared at Sandbar. He stared back into her big, goofy eyes. Something stirred within him. It was early-onset bladder cancer. His family tragically would not find out until it was too late.

"No," said Yona resolutely, and Sandbar's libido would have taken a hit if he hadn't been taking hits before the dance began. "Yona have better idea."

"What?" Sandbar was just totally not following, like, anything. "What could be better than being yourself?"

Yona turned and gazed off the railing of the Harmony Treehouse Playset, only $49.99 at Target, out into the blank stone cave walls and not something actually inspiring, like a starry night sky. Despite this, her tiny yak mind gripped on to something in those featureless rocks. She clenched one weird yak hoof(?) before her face, and spoke in a low voice dripping with ferventness.

"Once in yak's life, there is great choice yak must make. If yak make wrong choice, yak become something yak is not. If yak make right choice, yak can be yak. And be yak is fine, but right choice not best choice, and best choice only choice for yak."

It's worth mentioning that Sandbar had completely zoned out by this point and was close to choking to death on his own saliva.

Yona turned, steel glinting in her eyes. "Yona make best choice for friend Sandbar!"

Sandbar was almost moved to respond.


High above the city, dark clouds sparked forks of lightning across the sky. The winds and rain drove good ponies off the streets.

But for bad ponies, it was a perfect night for doing crime.

One such bad pony, Stinky Staples, was up to no good. He checked up the street and down it, pulling his collar up so the driving rains wouldn't accidentally clean his filthy, filthy coat. Then, seeing the coast was clear, he crossed the road.

And in the middle of the road, he dropped a crumpled up newspaper!

He was cackling by the time he was on the other side of the street. Jaywalking and littering? He was a true pony criminal mastermind! Soon, he would rule this town, and the good ponies who lived here would bow to him!

He had just turned from evil cackling to self-assured chortling when something grabbed his collar. He looked up, only to see a dark shadow illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning.

Two weird beady eyes, framed by a pair of threatening horns, stared down at him from apparently in midair.

Stinky screamed.

His scream was cut short as the figure yanked him into the air. Together, they took a high-speed ride up the side of the building, Stinky powerless to stop his ascent. When he reached the edge of the building, ten stories up, he was flung over the side onto the gravel rooftop.

He scrambled to his hooves, searching every dark corner for his assailant. But whoever it was seemed to have vanished.

Turning around, he came face-to-face with them.

"Boo!" said the figure.

Screaming again, he turned to run for the other side of the roof, but he was too slow. In the time it had taken him to about-face, two strong limbs wrapped around his neck and pulled him up. A moment later, he found himself dangling by his coat collar over the side of the building, hooves kicking feebly at nothing.

The figure holding him there smirked.

All the blood drained from Stinky's face. In a panicked whisper, he mewled, "Who are you?"

The figure yanked him forward, until their noses touched. And in a deep, husky voice, it said, "Yona is Batman."

Then the figure blinked, face-hooved, and screamed, "Yona always forget secret identity!"

The End

Author's Note:

Like the saying goes, be yourself, unless you can be Batman. Then be Batman.