REVENGE
GOTCHA! Thought you could hide from me, didn’t you? You sneaky little book, if I can’t get out of this bathroom then there’s no chance for you to just slip out unseen.
So, what’s wrong? Why’d you wanna hide? Something I said? It is, isn’t it? Geez, you’re too sensitive sometimes, Booky. If you can’t take it then you shouldn’t have signed up.
Now, as I was saying before you so rudely disappeared yesterday, my life can be boiled down to a simple conflict; I’m stuck in a bookcase. Not by choice, but of either circumstance or the will of others. Nothing’s ever my fault ever. My being stuck is just a good example.
When Daddy dearest decided little Ipsa didn’t need no schoolin anymore, he kinda put a damper on my job options, limiting me in regards to what I could possibly do with myself for the rest of my life. I’m not smart enough for one of them smart jobs, so that was always gonna be a no. Thanks to my loving father I’ve been relegated to pick up other ponies’ crap in the dead of night.
I liked my old house, it was pretty neat. The layout was simple yet inviting, bland yet full of life, and absolutely perfect. I felt at home inside of it. This house is nothing like it. To put in a way you would understand, think of it as a dust jacket to a book that is either far too small or far too large to fit. It was by the sadistic design of fate that the Derptard took my old home from me, relegating me to this crappy place (That, might I mention, has a bathroom that was practically built to be a trap, apparently.).
You see where I’m coming from, Booky? Nothing in my life is my fault. Nothing. Everything wrong in my life can either be attributed to Daddy dearest, the damn Derptard, those royal bitches, or that pink bitch. I’ve just been some poor pawn in their game of checkers.
In other news, I’ve got one cracker left to eat. That means that if I cannot magic my escape from this most crappy of predicaments then I’ll die of starvation sooner or later.
Gotta say, that’s not quite the way I pictured me going out. Fitting, but still, not really what I had in mind.
Hm, you know, now that I’ve been trapped in here for six days I gotta say that I really like this bathroom. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s nothing compared to my old one, but this isn’t really all that bad if you look past the fact that I’m doomed to die here.
Hehe, wanna know something pretty funny? Nopony knows I’m stuck. I’ll die in here and, eventually, somepony will break in to steal something (Not that I’d have any fucking clue as to what they could steal.) and find a skeleton dangling from a bookcase stuck in the door of the bathroom. I mean, can you imagine? That’s not really something you expect to find.
So, what shall we do as I await my death? Can’t really do the break-it-down game from here…which is slightly depressing, but I’ll manage. We could play a game of some sort. Would you like that? If so, then feel free to pick the game, as I have no clue what there is to do other than just kinda stand here and wait.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored?
Bored!
Bored…
Bored!
Bored?!
Bored.
…Bored?
Bored.
Bored.
Hey, I haven’t heard Donger since about yesterday. You think he’s still alive out there? Don’t play that game, Booky, you know who Donger is. The raccoon I brained with my fine dining plate? I thought I heard him rummaging through my kitchen the other day, but I haven’t heard him since. I don’t recall ever feeding him, so unless he raided my kitchen then he’s probably already dead.
Huh. Bummer.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bo- hey, you hear that? Kinda sounds like somepony at my front door, doesn’t it?
Oh, I swear, that better not be a burglar, Derpy, or Pinkie (Knowing my luck it’ll be all three.). I am NOT in the mood for company!
That would be the sound of my front door opening, which means I have an intruder on the premises, which is great, cause, y’know, that’s what I fucking need.
I hear Derpy (Of course it’s her, what’d you expect?) in there, calling for me. Hm, thick drawl with an accent. That would be Applejack. The fuck does she want? Ah, and the Lesbian makes three.
Hey, Booky, wanna tell me what it is a retard, a farmer, and a lesbian want with me?
This is gonna take a minute. Be patient.
***
Say, Booky, how do you feel about those? I’ve always kind of liked em. They let me express to you that a significant portion of time has passed by without having to literally tell you that about an hour has passed by since I last wrote something. Nifty, huh?
Oh yeah, I almost forgot; OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! That fucking farmer freed me from the bookcase of shame with a swift buck. Yeah, I said buck. As in she used both legs. As in, she used one leg more than she needed. As in, I just got fucking kicked in the face by one of Ponyville’s strongest residents.
One moment I’m closing my eyes as I’m told, “This’ll only take a moment. You, uh, might wanna keep still.” (Yeah, thanks for the advice, bitch.) Next thing I know I’m at the Apple family household on Sweet Apple Acres.
Yeah, you read that right, Booky. I was saved from certain death by a kick to the face that surely only barely managed NOT to kill me. There’s something to be said of my luck, that something being that I seem to have a distinct lack of it.
I now sit in the living room of the Apple family household on Sweet Apple Acres, head as sore as it was when I woke up here, in the Apple family household on Sweet Apple Acres. To my left would be Applejack, who I have yet to answer the question of. To my right would be Granny Smith, a pony so old that she foalsat time itself. I’m aware that Apple Bloom is at school. Thankfully Big Macintosh is not present, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye after…well…yeah, that.
Ah, I’m so glad you asked, I was found by Applejack (Obviously.), the Lesbian, the Derptard (Again, who the fuck else would it have been?), and, oddly enough, Fluttershy. Apparently Donger was indeed rummaging through my kitchen yesterday as, according to Fluttershy, he was rather hungry. My pantry not being enough for that ravenous rodent he decided to leave my house through whatever hole he used to enter. From there he ran home to Flutterwhy and told her that I had attempted to murder him.
Yep, yet another entry into my log of unbelievable crap that’s happened to me.
As mad as you would expect some psychopath who prefers the company of animals to ponies would be at the sound of abuse, she made little time in coming to town in order to confront me. Applejack, being the generic she is, noticed that Flutterfly was on a warpath and enquired as to what the fuck she wanted. It was there that Flutterpie’s warpath widened to allow Applejack to join her crusade. Fate being what it is, they happened across the Derptard who told them that I hadn’t been seen for a few days and that she was worried about me. That, apparently, was all it took to garner the attention of the Lesbian, who, being the attention whore she is, decided she needed to be present.
So yeah, that’s the story about how I managed to escape the clutches of the bookcase of doom.
After assuring that her lover hadn’t kicked my skull in, the Lesbian left to get back to her nap (Lazy bitch.). The Derptard left about as quickly as she did; only she at least waited for me to wake up before she had to get back to her job, which is something I’m not surprised in the least about due to how increasingly present she is becoming in my life. She did make mention that I had six days worth of mail waiting for me at home, mail I will most assuredly ignore. As for Flutterhi, she wouldn’t leave until I gave her an explanation for the attack on her ‘animal friend’ (Her words, not mine.). I, in no shortage of words, told her I am not fond of intruders. She didn’t accept that at first (Cause, you know, why would she?) and she would’ve pursued the matter more had I not told her that I, in fact, hate animals (Along with so many other things that a list of the things I hate would make her head spin.).
Now, does that answer your question as to why I’m surrounded by Apples in the Apple family household on Sweet Apple Acres and not by my would-be rescuers? Hm? No? That’s not what you wanted to know? Applejack’s question? What about it? That’s what you wanted to know more about? Well, aren’t you a fucking stick in the mud? If you must know, Booky, she wants to know why I didn’t escape on my own or yell for help.
Now, if you don’t fucking mind, then I’ve got to give her a good answer or else she’ll pester me forever. I can’t tell her that I had simply accepted my fate; she’d probably raise a fuss over that. So I have to lie. What can I say? That I enjoyed it? That it was comfortable? That I meant to be stuck there as long as I was? Hm, this is a toughie.
Uh, yeah, she and the old bitch are just sitting there watching me write in you and not in the cute way V used to, they’re being creepy about it. I mean, can’t they see I’m busy? Bitches. And before you try to defend their honor, you gallant knight you, I’ve already made it very clear to you that this is my diary time as stated in my schedule. Or at least I think it is. I can’t really tell the time of day anymore.
Isn’t funny how that happens? You’re inside so long that the very concept of the passage of time loses its meaning. I mean, yeah, I knew days were passing, but that didn’t tell me what the time was.
I’VE GOT IT! I can tell them that it wasn’t because I necessarily enjoyed my entrapment, but that I didn’t want to break my new bookcase. That’ll work! Yeah, that’s a really good one! Good job, Booky! Come on, I’m gonna try it out!
Hm, Applejack seems leery, but the old one seems to buy it. Hm, maybe that wasn’t good enough…damn it, Booky! Why’d you come up with such a crappy lie? Nopony anywhere would ever buy such a crappy excuse! And…wait, the old one’s whispering to Applejack.
THEY BOUGHT IT! HOORAY! I told you that’d work! Greatest lie ever told!
Awesome!
Ah, I was wondering when you’d ask that. You see, after Applejack kicked my head off she noticed that I was a little, um, malnourished? Is that right? It’s supposed to mean, like, really hungry or underfed or something. Well, she decided to bring me to her home here in the Apple family household on Sweet Apple Acres in order to feed me or something like that, which is something that has yet to happen, I now notice.
Hey, there we go! The old one just said she’d go and start making lunch or whatever. Yay! Free food! Oh great, Applejack just said she’s gotta get back to her chores! That means loneliness! HOORAY!
You know, Booky, this day just keeps getting better! Haha, I guess things are always darkest just before the dawn.
So…wait…you hear that? Kind of sounds like...oh…oh no, not that. I’M NOT A FUCKING FOALSITTER, DAMN IT! DAMN IT! It’s not like I can fucking hide or something, damn it!
Booky, I swear that I will shred you if these fillies kill me.
Yep, Apple Bloom, Scoottard, and Sweetie Belle (Who, again, isn’t wearing her tiara, ungrateful bitch.). Here they are. All three trying to talk at once. To me. Yep.
This is my life. This right here is what it’ll be pictured next to me in the great big book of life.
Blah, blah, blah, blah. All they’re talking about is about what to do and how I could help them get their cutie marks or whatever. I’m not even listening.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored, wait, what? Diamond Tiara? Hold on.
Alright, info time, I just learned that these three just got back from school (Oh Blossom, your flanks weigh so heavily upon my thoughts.) where they apparently had a rather grueling test. Sweetie Belle says she thinks she did pretty well while Scootletard said she thinks she did awesome. Apple Bloom is the one I care about. She said she’s pretty sure she failed due to not being able to study due to reasons I didn’t even try to pay attention to.
Here’s where it gets important, Booky, so listen up.
Apple Bloom said that she thinks Diamond Tiara probably did the best on account of her cheating or something, didn’t listen to that part. What matters is that a test was taken, Apple Bloom failed, and Diamond Tiara passed.
LET THE PLOTTING COMMENCE!
I still owe this little bitch some pain (As previously stated in one of my plans so long ago.) for her mistreatment of myself and, more importantly, V. That simply cannot be forgiven.
Diamond Tiara, as per my observations, is something of a daddy’s girl (Stupid bitch, fathers aren’t even worth it.) and, her being his little princess (She certainly is of a bitchiness relative to the royal bitches.), means that he likely has a rather high standard for his whore of a daughter. That means he probably wouldn’t very much like it if she were to, say, fail a test. A test I am told that Apple Bloom could hardly even answer anything correctly, by her own admission. A test that Blossom (Ms. Cheerilee to these idiots.) said she would grade later on tonight, something Sweetie Belle attributed to how distracted Blossom looked today.
My plan: scheme my way into Blossom’s home (Potentially trading her my virginity for some strange while at it.) so I can swap Apple Bloom’s test with Diamond Tiara’s.
Yeah, that’s good, but it’s not enough. She can’t just get grounded. No, that’s not enough pain. I can’t just bust in and break her legs, though. Hm. That means that, barring the use of a proxy in the breaking of limbs, I have to strike at her emotional vulnerabilities.
I can’t do this alone.
Oh no, not that, anything but that.
I couldn’t possibly do it…I mean…I’d hate myself forever. I…I’ll do it. For V, I’ll do it.
I’m a Cutie Mark Crusader.
Sweet merciful crap it’s worse than I could have ever imagined.
Focus, I need to focus. This is for V.
The Plan: Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootletard need to go and do investigative work to find something that Diamond Tiara considers extremely important, something of severe emotional importance. While they do that I need to go see Rarity so as to maximize my hotness (A difficult task given my current physical appearance and the broken state of my SWAG.) so that Blossom will be so wooed that I may gain entry to her home.
I can’t just include these idiots in on my plans, though; they’d spill the beans the second they knew. No, I must lie. Hm. How does one fool such stupid idiots so convincingly that they fall for it? Huh, I think I’ve got something, let me try it.
Mistake.
Mistake.
Mistake.
Mistake.
My face, my body, and my soul were just ravaged. I know I’m doing this for V and all, but I mean come on, there’s gotta be a point where a line is drawn.
You heard it, right? Oh you deaf book, you. No, you don’t get to be free from hearing it just cause you’re apparently deaf. CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS PRIVATE DETECTIVES, YAY!
I don’t know why they did it. I don’t know why they couldn’t just be quiet. I don’t know. I don’t know.
Ugh, at least my lie worked. They’re off on a ‘mission’ to be private detectives and find out interesting information about Diamond Tiara. Idiots. No clue what they’re doing.
Now, with that out of that way (I mean, seriously, ME, as in, Ipsa U-fucking-nica as a Cutie Mark Crusader?), I’ve got to go to Rarity’s, which means…no free food.
Damn it.
Never say I don’t care about V, Booky. This aught to prove it.
Onwards, my compatriot! To the Carousel Boutique!
***
See? Aren’t those pretty neat? It really save on room.
Now, with that out of the way, we must address a few things.
Firstly, on my way out of the Apple family household on Sweet Apple Acres I managed to pull yet another lucky number and I ran right into Mac. Now, as you’ll recall I told you, I’ve kissed that stallion. On the lips. Knowing me, I probably tried to slip him tongue too.
Needless to say our meeting was one of…awkwardness.
I like alcohol, Booky, but if it turns me gay when I get drunk then I must abstain. Which is truly…unfortunate…um…yeah, this paragraph never happened.
The second thing to happen to me wasn’t really a happening so much as a feeling of dread which nearly crushed me. You see, on my way over here I caught sight of the Pinktard from a distance. Contrary to her usual behavior (Does she even follow a pattern or anything? I can’t tell with her.) she didn’t suddenly appear beside me. No, in fact, the second our eyes met she started…um…vibrating. Yeah. Like, shaking real hard. She did that and then rushed off doing all sorts of other…convulsions?
Seriously, what the fuck is with her? Was she never meant to be born? I mean it, she’s like a freaking abomination or something.
Anyclay, after seeing her do that and seeing the reactions from the ponies all around (Mostly that of shock and then worry.) I began to feel an almost dark cloud over my head. It’s like, you know, feeling like something real bad is about to happen.
Eh. I don’t like that feeling.
Lastly, don’t think I missed the fact that the Derptard was following me from high above. I risked a glance once and I barely saw her, but I know I did. Stupid fucking retarded reject.
Things significantly improved when I got here. Rarity was surprised to see me, but she was almost speechless at my request. Fuck, even the way I said it was weird for me. “I need to look good. Like, attractive. Help me.” So it’s no wonder she thought strange of it.
It’s been, like, an hour or two or three, can’t really tell. She told me I should go to the spa as they’re more suited for something like this, but there’s no fucking way I’ll ever go near that building. I made that much very clear, so she finally broke down and agreed to aid me.
The fur rub, I admit, was strange, but I’m not here for comfort. She had to rub olive scented oil (Something like that, I wasn’t paying attention.) into my fur due to my tight schedule I’m trying to keep. It was over quick enough.
Do you remember the bath I took that made my fur smell faintly of olives? This is kind of the same thing, only not as good. Where the bath allows me to soak in the olive scented water, the rubdown is more effective if you spend a good portion of time doing it (Not accounting for the fact that with the rubdown you have to make sure you get everything equally rubbed in with the scent you want, where the bath gets everywhere at once.), which, as you can clearly see, is very inefficient and you’re better off going with the soak instead. Unless, however, you’re in as much of a hurry as I’m in. I don’t have hours to spend soaking, so a ten or fifteen minute rubbing is the best I can do.
As a stallion I have never had a hooficure. That is no longer true. Rarity absolutely refused to NOT do one for me, despite my insistence that she not. I mean, come on, sometimes my job entails me to LITERALLY pick up crap while the rest of the time I’m picking up trash. While I understand that she, as the unicorn master race (A joke, we all know earth ponies are superior to all races.) never gets her hooves dirty, I simply cannot and will not understand the usefulness of such a treatment when I know for a fact it will be completely undone by tomorrow.
The most painless part of the whole process was when she got to my mane and tail. For my glorious locks she did a slight variation of the olive rubdown, only using a gel instead. I must say I was completely surprised by how effective this was. Making sure the hair was wet she proceeded to rub a shampoo in before thoroughly rubbing a gel through it that gave me almost an aura of olive scent. To my surprise we weren’t even done yet, she still had to style it to her liking, something that I prevented her from doing to the extent she clearly felt was needed (Look, I know I came to her for her expertise in this stuff, but like I said earlier, I only have so much time to offer.).
As you would imagine, the rubdown was the most awkward part as she insisted she use her hooves instead of her magic. Both of us were uncomfortable the entire time and we hardly made eye contact. It was literally all I could do not to get too excited and expose myself (Again.) as she did her deed. Not that I’d mind sticking the icky sticky to her, but until I scheme my way into Blossom’s home I have to focus on things other than my virginity.
It was when she was working on my mane that she finally began to talk freely, likely dying to know what the fuck I wanted to look so nice for. I told her that I was interested in dating Blossom, which I had to clarify meant Cheerilee (Seriously, I hate these idiots. They’ve known her for how long and they still call her Cheerilee?). She was confused at first as she recalled the fiasco with SB (Which we will not spend time remembering, Booky.) and I had to quickly make very clear to her that the situation regarding SB was one not worth dwelling on. Catching the hint (Which, for once, wasn’t really a lie. I really don’t want to dwell on the night I almost fucked her little sister.) she quickly started inquiring as to my interest in Blossom (I swear, once you get this bitch talking she never shuts up…not that I’m complaining.). I informed her of our history together and sparse details about our ‘friendship’ when we were foals. That got her giddy enough to get over whatever annoyance was settling in over having to help me with something she didn’t really want to help with. I swear she could’ve talked my ear off about gossip regarding Blossom and then pretty much everypony in town (Again, not that I minded too much.), I stopped paying attention to the words quickly.
As of right now, Rarity is quickly piecing together a new bowtie-thingy for me to wear and I’m just kind of waiting for her to be done. I wish she would’ve kept talking, but she insisted that this part requires her concentration.
Oh look, a cat. Booky, did you know I hate cats? Unlike most things I don’t even have a reason for hating cats, I just don’t like em. I mean, look at that thing. It’s like a walking hairball.
Hold on, I’m gonna need a moment.
Alright, Sweetie Belle just came in and told me about her findings (I am cautious as to why she finished so quickly.). She informed me that she had been following Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon with the other (Ugh.) Crusaders (Of which I cannot believe I am one of now.) when the two targets returned to Diamond’s home, where the little bitch started showing off a new statue for her retarded little friend. According to Sweetie Belle, the statue was one her father had just commissioned the making of. Oh and get this, the statue is OF the little bitch. Yeah, that’s right; Diamond Tiara has a statue of herself.
Target acquired.
Before she left Apple Bloom and Scootletard to finish their investigations she noted that Diamond and her retarded little friend started playing ball, which gives me my move. I’ll simply go in under the cover of night and shatter that fucking statue and leave that stupid ball next to the rubble. This will inspire Filthy Rich to become angry with his daughter for breaking her own statue.
Yeah, that’s good, but it’s still not enough. Let’s hope the other two idiots get me something even better.
Oh crap. Uh, I didn’t account for this. Rarity’s prying into my conversation with Sweetie. Think fast!
Come on!
You have something? Alright, let me hear it!
Uh…you sure that’s the only way?
Fine. I hate you.
There, happy? Now Rarity knows I’m a fucking Cutie Mark Crusader. This is wonderful, just what I needed. Oh, look, she finds it absolutely precious. Fucking damn it.
Oh great, now Sweetie Belle’s whining. Fucking stupid little fuck. Of course she didn’t get her cutie mark, the fuck would an investigative cutie mark even look like? Stupid little stupid.
Wait, I’m supposed to be supportive right now. Right.
That aught to hold her for now. At least until the other two come back and don’t have cutie marks either.
Haha, seriously, these idiots are so stupid! I mean, come on! It’s too easy! I fool them into doing my prep work for me and when one of them gets curious all I have to do is deflect it with a simple lie. It’s that easy! As for that last question of Sweetie’s, the lie was equally simple. I told her that I’d get my (Snicker.) investigative cutie mark later today. And. She. Bought. It.
Ah, here we go. So, Booky, how do I look? Don’t be shy, come on, I wanna know your opinion!
Oh fuck you, jerk. I look snazzy as fuck.
Now, I gotta get flowers. Cause, you know, foal machines like them some fancy crap like that.
Onwards! To the flower stand!
***
I really think you’re underestimating how awesome those things are. If it wasn’t for the fact that they look like tiny little spiders (All of which should die horrible, painful deaths.) then they’d be perfect.
You may be wondering as to why I am now sitting on a park bench and not, say, in the house of Blossom Cheerilee. Well, my bookish companion, two rather interesting happenings just happened to me. Also the Derptard, but that’s not interesting, it’s just annoying.
On my way to Rose the Agent of Doubleness’ stand I inadvertently ran almost right into Octavia (Ha, for once it’s an almost and not a direct hit!), which sparked an interesting back and forth.
You see, she feels absolutely horrible for judging me as quickly as she did, citing her roommate Vinyl (A name that sounds familiar to me, somehow.) as having influenced her judgment by harping on and on about how apparently fucking terrifying I am or something. She added on that she, being who she is and given the standards she usually holds herself to, should have never allowed such a thing to occur, mentioning a humorous bit about judging books by their covers.
The whole conversation basically boiled down to the fact that she is more than willing to give me another chance, one that she added would be far more fair this time around. When I asked about her publicly stated lesbianism, she said that she’s actually bisexual (That’s a thing?) and the hurried nature of the announcement caused the mistake.
I see you’re catching on to the problem I had very quickly after she said all of that. Yep, after saying all that wonderful stuff she went and inquired as to where it was I was headed and why I looked dolled up (Hey, can’t fault her for having an eye for detail.). As you’ll imagine, telling her the truth (My plan to acquire a date with Blossom.) would ruin any chance to gain sexual access to her anywhere in the near future, which, with the thought of plowing her as hard as I can while listening to that beautiful voice tell me how well I’m doing was and will always be absolutely intoxicating, is completely unacceptable. So, I told (Lied.) her that I was merely seeking to rekindle an old friendship.
Luckily, Octavia bought that lie before giving me a heavenly kiss (Something I hope the retard ‘hiding’ in the sky caught full sight of.) on the cheek before continuing on her way as she previously was doing.
As amazing as that encounter was, the one with Double Agent Rose was about half as great and two times as awkward.
My ego at an all-time high, I approached Rose’s stand confidently and was immediately derailed by the sight of, well, a foal machine who has apparently spent a good portion of the day crying. Now, if you think that weirded me out, imagine how I felt when she saw me and immediately threw a hug on me. Even weirderer was that she kept saying she was sorry.
Yeah, so pretty fucking weird.
Absolutely derailed from my stride, I ended the embrace quickly before wordlessly pointing to the flowers I wanted (Posies when I should’ve gotten roses, but hey, I wasn’t about to sit and straighten that detail out.) before getting the fuck out of there. Fuck, she even gave me the bundle for free.
So, let’s take a second to look at this; what the actual fuck happened to me? Did she break something of mine? Did she go insane? Did she…oh crap, Booky, what if she betrayed me to the conspiracy?
That would suck so fucking much right now.
Given the lack of information we are currently working on right now that can be the only conclusion we can draw, which gives me a very limited amount of time to function within before my plan is foiled.
And yes, that fucking Derptard is still up there on her little fucking cloud, doing her ‘best’ to hide. Stupid idiot, I can clearly see her. Her dumb little cloud is even leaking water. Fuck she’s stupid.
Aha! Fuck you conspiracy! Give me a moment.
That (As you could clearly see with your nonexistent eyes.) was Apple Bloom with her information, which means that so long as Scootletard is speedy enough with her part of the plan then those royal bitches won’t have enough time to foil me!
According to Apple Bloom, she and the idiot followed Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon after they finished playing and went to go get something to eat. It was while they were eating that my little spy noticed my targets flirting with a colt, who, as per Apple Bloom’s word, is new to town and is from Canterlot (Explains the name High Brow.). Apparently Diamond has something of a crush on this colt. A crush Silver Spoon seems to share. Crucially, Apple Bloom was able to confirm that this colt does in fact like at least one of them.
Target acquired.
This one is gonna be a bit more tricky to pull off and will require skill to do correctly, but successful completion of this task will guarantee a beautiful amount of turmoil for my target. All I have to do is forge a love letter from Silver Spoon to High Brow and one from him to her. If all goes well then they will fall for each other, leaving Diamond by herself.
If she were a fully grown foal machine then this move very well could be enough to devastate her, but she’s only a filly. It won’t hurt as much as I’d like for it to, which means I now rely on Scootletard to bring me something, anything, juicy enough to deal the final blow with. Needless to say, my hopes are not high.
Uh, one moment, please, gotta chase off another idiot.
She’s trickier to deal with than I would’ve thought. Smarter than Scootletard yet not as naive as Sweetie Belle. I don’t think she buys my lie as wholly as the other filly did. Could be a problem in the future.
Alright, Booky, it’s time to make my move on Blossom. Remember, the plan is to get into her house and to switch Apple Bloom’s test with Diamond Tiara’s. Sex is optional as well as optimal.
Onward! To the place!
***
See? Aren’t those just the best?
Anyhay, I have very, very good news to report! The operation was a full and complete success! Ignoring the continued presence of my virginity, literally everything I wanted to happen happened and in full, glorious detail.
Gaining entry was the first hurdle and was one I absolutely had no problem with. I knocked and she wasted little time responding, reacting with complete surprise at seeing me. My hotness at levels unheard of (Minding that my SWAG will forever be pitifully broken.), Blossom was speechless at first before her face contorted in obvious emotion. I barely even had time to say anything before she gave me a hug (Not nearly as tight or awkward as Rose’s.) and INVITED me in.
You read that right, Booky. I didn’t even have to fucking try to get inside! All I did was knock and I was in!
She proceeded to ask how I was feeling and if everything was okay, which did off-set me a bit, but I bounced back quickly by offering her the flowers, which seemed to ff-set her a bit, but she rolled with it, smiling sweetly and thanking me.
In no time she asked if I wanted to join her for food (Breakfast, lunch, dinner…all the same now.) and it was during then that I struck. Asking to use her restroom, I hurried away into her house in search of her office. It didn’t take me long to find it and even shorter to spot the papers on her desk.
I mean, it was like stealing candy from a foal!
Quicker than I’ve ever done anything ever, I made careful work of swapping the tests (Making sure to make it appear as though Apple Bloom had written the good test and Diamond the bad.). I admit I was nervous at that point, but I hardened my nerves and finished my task like a boss. In fact, I did it so quick that I even had time to look at High Brow and Silver Spoon’s tests so as to get a feel for their writing styles and word choices so as to better falsify the love letters.
Booky, when I say I went in there and dominated my mission, I mean it!
There was a minor flub when I took a minute to actually use the restroom (Hey, who knew holding it all day would make me have to go?), making my return to Blossom a tad late. She didn’t seem to mind, however, and simply offered me a salad.
While we ate she made small talk, but I hardly paid attention to it. There was a moment where she attempted to mention Daddy dearest, but I shut her up quick. Last thing I wanted to talk about was that fucker, especially given how well everything was going. That seemed to get to her a bit as she started tearing up, but I ignored it.
After the salad we spent the remainder of our time talking about V. She told me that she had been in contact with her parents and that she had heard that V’s recovery was coming along swiftly and that the filly was being very brave. I told her that much was quite obvious as V is a diamond in the rough. Fuck, I got so carried away that I even told Blossom about my gifts I had managed to pass along to her. Something that brought more tears to her eyes, which is where the date fell apart.
You see, Booky, at this point she started openly weeping. There were mumbles of how proud she said Mom would be of me (Duh, bitch.) and that she was sure my father was as well, which only served to piss me off. Her crying becoming annoying and her constant mentioning of Daddy dearest ruining my perfectly good mood, I decided to leave before any progress could be made for my virginity.
Seriously, what is everypony’s problem today? First the Derptard is all emotional and stalking me (She still is, I see her up there, hiding in a cloud that is leaking enough water to be completely obvious.), then Rose up and fucking hugs me, and Blossom topped it off by deciding to talk about my Dad. What the fuck is going on? I mean, really, is it any wonder I hate foal machines?
Oh good, a distraction!
Who would’ve thought the Scootletard would’ve come through? Huh, well, the little stupid just came running up to me to give me her findings, which she relayed with absolute boredom apparent in her voice.
After Diamond ate with Silver Spoon, Scootletard followed the bitch to Rose’s stand (I know, weird, right?) where the two split up. According to my little spy, Diamond told her stupid friend to leave as she wanted to be alone right then. Following that split up, my target took a bunch of flowers (Stupid retarded filly couldn’t tell me which ones.) to the cemetery, where Scootletard decided to stop following.
As I’m sure you’re aware, I’m quite angry she didn’t continue to pursue her target, but at this point I admit that such would’ve been unnecessary. I have what I need.
One moment please.
Hahaha, oh fuck, these idiots are priceless! I mean, come on! I hardly had to say anything to get the little idiot to go away!
Alright, alright, control yourself, we gotta focus here.
As with all ponies, Diamond Tiara had a mother, one who (Like mine.) is currently deceased (I know things, Booky.). The fact that the little bitch was taking flowers to her mother’s grave tells me that she (Very much like me.) loved her mother very dearly.
Target acquired.
Out of everything I have to do under the cover of night, this will be the most difficult. One of the very few ponies who I know for a fact stays awake at night is the stallion who manages the cemetery. My advantage is that it is part of my job to clean that place, which will give me my opportunity to strike.
Alright, let’s go over the plan.
First I’ve got to forge those love letters, which shouldn’t be too hard. I can deliver them while I do my rounds…um…when it gets dark (It’s gonna take awhile to get back into the swing of things mentally.), which is when I’ll go for the statue. Breaking it is the hard part as I don’t want to wake anypony by doing so, but I’m fairly certain I can accomplish my goal without raising suspicion, though if that ball isn’t outside for me to frame Diamond with then I’ll have to call an audible. The final leg of my crusade needs to go smoothly. I’ll need to be able to swiftly go in and get that tombstone into Carty. Once it’s in there I’ll get home as fast as I can. Once there I can destroy it and hide the rubble in my junk pile, mixing it with some wet mud aught to help me disguise it well enough.
That plan should guarantee the complete and utter destruction of Diamond Tiara’s mental state. From there her father’s disappointment in her failure will be her undoing.
Let this serve as a lesson to you, Booky. Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me. Or. V.
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You know, I really wonder what Luna would see if she dared peeked into his dreams.
Hm, Ipsa isn't that skilled to pull this shit off. Wonder what turd will hit the fan first.
And I don't understand the massive amounts of sympathy the mares were showing him, either.
4646245 Quite sure it'd mean no royal interventions until absolutely necessary.
4646298
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4646245
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4646298 Calling that his father died while he was stuck in the bookcase and everyone heard about it except him. Then everyone think he's just keeping up appearances/something else.
Or they all think he had died and are just happy to see him alive, either works.
This is all going to end very badly for him. I just know it.
Ispa you're such an evil little pony.
I LOVE IT!
This is getting too good!
4646245 That which has been seen...
It's all conspiracy theory, Ipsa.
I don't why, but this chapter made me think of this anime.
4648248
Sorry the video didn't come out.
I can't wait to see how this train wreck will end. Presumably with lots of fire and screaming, I'm guessing.
I love and hate this story.b