• Published 10th Sep 2018
  • 8,058 Views, 99 Comments

Magical Medicine - yellowbastion



You are Anonymous and you're injured. How did it happen, who's taking care of you, and where are your pants?

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Chapter 1 Part 2

You didn’t ask to be born perfect, you just turned out this way because God loves you more. But the universe? It seems to hate you. You’re sure of it. Sometimes when you wake up in the morning with good intentions and build great plans to get things done, the universe seems to scowl at you and say ‘not today’. Take, for example, your stay in the Ponyville hospital. You had all the best and brightest doctors and nurses trying their hardest to help you. Which means that everything went wrong. Because of course it did. There are four sure things in life: death, taxes, Twilight S. Parkle fucking something up, and you not respecting someone’s name.

For what it’s worth, Twilight tried her best. As it turns out, her best is what some other people would call their worst. You don’t have the first clue how magic works but you’re damn sure it shouldn't cause body dimorphism. That’s a real word. Look it up. The spell was miscast, or had misfired, or some other word starting with mis and now you have the biggest, magic induced raging monster of an erection, both literally and figuratively.

"Help, my new penis is a gigantic monster!" You yell, still attached to your giant throbbing member as it smashed through yet another unfortunate pony's home. "That one was also your fault!"

Twilight did give you a bigger dick, yes sir, but in the most destructive way possible. Now all of Ponyville gets to bear whiteness to your oversized wedding tackle flatten any structures standing larger than it does in a fit of jealous rage in a classic textbook case of overcompensation. Not that you would know, personally.

Twilight was galloping alongside your bulbous gland, shooting magic stun bolts at the gigantic creature that was once your one-eyed gopher. "Anon, I can fix this! You just gotta hold it still!"

You were cool as a cucumber, as your mammoth gherkin rumbled down the road to its next target. "Hold still? Hold still!? I don't even know how I'm hanging on!"

Your name is Anon and you're apparently not allowed to have nice things.