Ponies of Fire

by Super Trampoline

Fire

Sometimes, you need to accept the consequences. Sometimes, you need to take a step back, and see what you’ve done.

Sometimes, you just need to watch the world burn…

…

…

Which is exactly what we’re doing today, in Setting the World Aflame Class!

That’s right kids! Today you’ll be learning all about how to set things on fire, up to and including Mother Equiis herself! But first, a cautionary tail tale. The tale of Sir Cumscribe and Master Bates, two friends on a journey to enlightenment.

It all started out on an ordinary day much like this one. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the bog monsters were protesting for equal rights after the whole Shrek debacle.

Wait, that’s not normal. That’s crazy!

We’re not normal for writing this. We’re crazy!

You’re not normal for reading this. You’re crazy.

But, as Jimmy Buffet says, if we weren’t all crazy, we’d all go insane. And a man who likes beach bum culture that much can’t be wrong, can he?

So anyway, Sir Cumscribe and Master Bates were two Knights of the Kind of Oblong Table, a collection of brave heroes (Protectors of the Dong, or Guardians of the Galaxy?) Celestia had assembled about two hundred years after the fall of Luna. Bog monsters had been protesting all across Equestria, and Celestia wanted to crush the protests. For you see, back in those times, Equestria was a lot closer to falling apart than it is today. Threats both domestic and foreign constantly threatened to threaten the rather unthreatening land of Equestria threateningly. So Celestia felt she had no choice but to rule with, if not an iron hoof, at least a bronze or copper one. However, she personally would’ve preferred diamond-studded. After all, diamond was an excellent material for abrasive work, so why not for oppressing the masses? It is a rather abrasive task, anyways.

So anyway, Sir Cumscribe and Master Bates were sent to squelch the protests like a held-in dookie. A dookie made of beans. Because the pony (or other creature) had just eaten a beanis. Probably your mom’s. They made their way to the Galloping Swamp, which undercover agents posing as Bog Monsters had discovered was the site of the Bog Monster resistance central planning committee.

Now, I suppose we ought to describe Sir Cumscribe and Master Bates before we get too far into this cautionary tale.

Now, Sir Cumscribe was an odd fellow. An earth pony of old, the stallion had taken a liking to woodcutting in his spare time, sculpturing magnificent creations of the material ranging from statues of our lord and saviour Celestia, to basic chairs and tables rivaling Ikea in quality. His strange, dangly split-beard was almost always encrusted in sawdust, and he only ever washed the thing when he was summoned into battle. One thing that he always, and I mean always, carried with him? His trusty flamethrower.

Fire and wood, you say, isn’t that the recipe for disaster? Yes. Yes indeed it is.

Master Bates on the other hoof, was a bat pony. But enough about him.

The two intrepid heroes--for in our narrative lens ponies are always the heroes against the dark, twisted and dangerous other-- approached the swamp under the cover of disguises. They were wearing ghillie suits of the finest quality, sewn together by only the highest quality of thread by the highest quality slaves prisoners forced to labor for pennies an hour, because this was actually North Cowrea. Certainly not like in America where you’d flip burger patties for a fistful of cash. And a faceful of screams from unsatisfied customers.

Anyway, remember that flamethrower Sir Cumscribe carried? Well, the two heroes had intel that most of the high ranking swamp creatures were currently ensconced in one of those magical hollowed out trees that’s bigger on the inside that Equestria seems to have in abundance, and they saw the perfect opportunity to nip it in the bud.

Or in other words, burn the whole freakin’ thing to the ground.

Master Bates, disguised as a bog monster, went into the bog monster supply shed and grabbed lumber, nails, and a hammer. Then, to the tune of “Racist Burn” (Not to be confused with “Raise this Barn” or “Raze this Bar”), he set about boarding all the windows up. Inside the tree, Cornelis Vanderbelt, the bog monster leader, was giving a rousing speech so they didn’t hear their impending doom outside. Then he went and slaughtered a bunch of bog monster babies that were in daycare and piled them at the tree’s sole unboarded entrance (Though, frankly, through the disguise, he couldn’t tell if they were babies or the soiled diapers piled in the center of the room. They smelled the same.) Then it was Sir Cumscribe’s turn to shine.

“TIME WARP!” Sir Cumscribe shouted, pointing his flamethrower at the pile before the entrance, “GO!”

Short to say, the smell alone from burning, time-travelling bog monster feces confirmed what the pile was truly composed of. Therefore, it was a shitfire. Literally.

He then pointed the flamethrower to the door, smirking as he set his hoof on the trigger.

Dear reader, what happens next, we must remind you, happens not to any sweet innocent ponies, but rather to the bog monsters, of whom have absolutely no resemblance whatsoever to Shrek, and therefore should have no reason to complain about the Ogre of Layers. No, these are nasty, cruel, brutish bog monsters, and they are not your friends. They are the enemy. Equestria has been at war with them. Equestria has always been at war with them. War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength. Big Brother is watching you.

And then, Sir Cumscribe let loose. Tongues of flames lapped at the door and (dead babies?), and soon the tree was ablaze. Screams and shreks shrieks of pain and horror rang out, but were drowned out by the murderous laughter of Sir Cumscribe and Master Bates’s batty cackles of homicidal joy. And as the flames danced ever higher, this song could be heard:

Now, have we learned our lesson on world-burning? Step one, don’t worldbuild. That’s counterintuitive. Step 2, don’t worry about consistency. You’re burning the world. Step 3, make sure the readers are as brain-dead as physically possible by the end of the story.

Oh, and don’t get too cocky. Remember your place in the world. Or Celestia will squash you like a bug.

Fin

Comments

[TheMajorTechie]

image.ibb.co/heKZgG/trollestia.png

[FireheartThePone]

The pyromaniac within me agrees.

[nemryn]

Hey, don't worry about the water gun. I don't know how to look at flamethrowers, so it all balances out.

[RoyalBardofCanterlot]

Your trollfics are amusing, but why don't you try writing a serious story again like Love? Or finish that Luna does community service series?

[Super Trampoline]

9017451
I’ve been pretty depressed lately but I just started a new job so hopefully things are looking up and I can get more writing inspiration.

[FanOfMostEverything]

For you see, back in those times, Equestria was a lot closer to falling apart than it is today. Threats both domestic and foreign constantly threatened to threaten the rather unthreatening land of Equestria threateningly.

That doesn't seem different at all. The only difference I can see is that Celestia didn't have anyone else to handle disaster management for her at the time.

In any case, plusgood glimpse of the Eqsoc Era.