Hansel and Gretel
Ice Cube walked out of Bob's Burger Shack, content with his lunch. After Humans and Ponies made contact, it wasn't long before supply met demand, and meat-selling restaurants popped up in Equestria. With a belly full of beef, Ice Cube took back every bad thing he said about Capitalism. Capitalism was damn tasty.
Ice Cube walked through the market before seeing a familiar pony behind a stand. The gray pony that was almost always an accessory to Diamond Bitch's endeavors, sat there, swirling a spoon in a bowl of soup.
Ice Cube was neutral towards Silver Spoon. She was only a bitch when she was around Diamond Tiara. And that ho wasn't around. Out of curiosity, he walked over to the stand. Silver Spoon looked up to see the rapper coming.
"Eyo, what's the haps, homie?" Silver Spoon asked. Ice Cube got used to this kind of thing, ponies talking like him, but nopony used ebonics like Diamond Tiara. She threw black slang around so much, it would make Tupac's hologram jealous.
"Nothin' much. What the fuck is this?" he said, pointing to the soup.
"Makin' my cream, yo. I took your advice, and now I'm makin' dough off eatin' soup."
"They pay you to eat soup?" Ice Cube asked increduously.
"Damn straight. Watch." Silver Spoon dipped her utensil in the soup, and with one motion, flung a string of soup into the air. She jumped up with a back-flip and skillfully caught the liquid in her mouth.
"Wha- how the fuck did you do that?" he asked, mouth agape.
"I can demonstrate my shit again, sure. But it'll cost ya'." Silver Spoon stuck out a hoof.
"You're gonna go far, kid." Ice Cube said sarcastically, looking around. "Where's Diamond Bitch? Aren't you always with her sorry ass?"
"Oh, dat bitch? Please, nigga, I dropped that shit like it was hot. She was dragging me down, treatin' me like I was her ho or somethin'. I wasn't havin' that shit, dawg. You know what I mean?"
"I hear you, fool." Ice Cube nodded.
"And now that I got the ball and chain off, I'm makin' cash flow, my brotha."
A lone tumbleweed rolled past them, and Ice Cube swore he heard a cricket nearby.
"Aaight', so it's been a slow day. But these ponies'll come around. Besides, I gotta go to school anyway. A real nigga gotta get an education."
School? She still had a lot to learn about the streets.
"I'll check ya later, Cube." Silver Spoon trotted off towards the school house.
"Peace." Ice Cube went his own way.
It wasn't bad having a pony around that talked like him, even if it was a girl, and no older than 10. Ice Cube didn't know the effect he would have on Ponyville. After his story got put in the paper, words like 'nigga', 'bitch', and 'ass-captain' were thrown around on a daily basis. There weren't many ponies in Los Angeles. So if the ponies wouldn't come to South Central LA, Ice Cube was gonna bring South Central LA to the ponies.
The Ponyville plaza was bustling, ponies hurried to get to work. Ice Cube, however, was currently jobless. The idea to teach ponies how to rap had backfired. This was Ponyville. There were no police to shoot, no projects to rep, and no bitches to bone. What is a poor gangsta rapper to do when there's nothing to get pissed off at?
He thought for a moment while he watched the sky have a seizure. Grey clouds were aligning theirselves in a checkerboard pattern, leaving square patches of sunlight adjacent to square patches of cloud.
What the fuck?
Across the street was a white pony using her magic to move the clouds into the strange positions. Ice Cube was going to ask her why she was doing this, but knowing Ponyville, he'd probably just get some bullshit answer like "magic", or "friendship", or "ancient God of Chaos".
He decided to ignore it, and ponder his joblessness. Rapping was pretty much the one thing he had a lot of talent in, and gangsta rap didn't really work out in Equestria. The only other thing he did really well was reading to the pony kids. Ice Cube got wide eyed, and pulled out his phone. It was mid February, and the last time he read a story was early December.
Three months? Holy fuck, had it really been that long?
Ice Cube knew what he had to do, or at least what he had to do for the next 15 minutes or so. And off he went, to where he could kill a little time, and insult Diamond Bitch to his heart's content.
"Okay, so can anypony tell me, if a gas that is at 33 degrees Celcius and 100 kiloPascals is heated to 75 degrees Celcius, what is the new pressure?" Cheerilee asked her class.
"227.27?" Applebloom answered.
"Nope. Did you remember to convert Celcius to Kelvins?"
"Oops."
"But Miss Cheerliee, you didn't give us the volumes for either." Sweetie Belle spoke up.
"If the volumes aren't included, just forget about them."
"Well, that's stupid."
Cheerilee watched the bored students work on their assignment in silence until someone knocked on the schoolhouse doors. Cheerilee went to see who it was. She was not pleased to see them.
Faust damn it.
"Ice Cube. What brings you here?" she asked with a forced smile.
"Yeah, hi to you too." he said sarcastically, walking past her into the classroom.
The kids looked up to find their hearts almost exploding into a million happy little pieces.
"ICE CUBE!" they erupted into a sea of smiles. Chemistry work was pushed off of desks, some of them even balled up and thrown around the room as paper projectiles.
Cheerilee watched the scene, feeling slightly defeated. What could Ice Cube do that combined gas laws couldn't?
"Alright little niggas, it's story time."
"YAY!" the students yelled.
"Story time? I love story time!" Pinkie Pie popped her head out of one of Cheerilee's desk drawers.
"No, no, no." Cheerilee stopped them. "We have to go over Stoichiometry, and then we have a quiz. Sorry, Ice Cube, but no stories today."
"Awww." the class moaned.
"But Miss Cheerilee, it's been forever since we heard one." Scootaloo testified.
"Yeah, come on Miss Cheerilee. Can we please hear one?" said Sweetie Belle.
"Pleeeaase?" whined Apple Bloom.
"Pleeeeeaaase?" Pinkie's face came within inches of Cheerliee's, her neck stretching to unholy length.
"No."
Every face in the room except Ice Cube's and Cheerliee's had pleading eyes and stretched bottom lips. The annoyed teacher gave a deep sigh.
"Fine."
"YAY!" the children screamed. Pinkie jumped into the air, small fireworks bursting around her for no specific reason.
Ice Cube took a seat in his story-telling stool. He had to think for the name of his story.
What was the story with the two German kids that met a pedophile in the woods? he thought. Handson and Goebbels? Yeah, that's it.
"Handson and Goebbels."
In the days of old, there lived a lumberjack and his hoe in a cottage, with their two adopted German kids named Handson and Goebbels. The lumberjack worked all damn day, but was still poor as shit. I mean like, mothafucka was poorer than an LA hooker. And let me tell you right now, they are poor. His ho only stuck around because they lived in a forest. Aint no pimps in a forest.
"Laqueesha, what da fuck are we gon' do? We broke. I aint got no money, and we runnin' out of food." the lumberjack said to his hoe. "Who da fuck is gon' feed the kids?"
"Nobody. Let's just drop them in the forest somewhere, and let them take care of themselves."
"Bitch, dat's fuckin' stupid."
"Fine. You can sit your poor ass down and starve." said the ho. "Imma kill the little motherfuckers."
They didn't know Handson and Goebbels were listening outside the door.
"Well, we fucked." Goebbels said, lighting a fat blunt.
"Maybe not. I have an idea." Handson replied, creepin' his German-nigga ass into their bedroom. He went into his sister's drawer and searched.
"Found em'." he said, pulling out a handful of joints.
"Nigga, what da fuck are you doin' with my weed?" Goebbels demanded.
"You wanna smoke, or you wanna live?"
Goebbels hesitated to answer. "Gimme some time to think about dat. Why you need my weed anyway?"
"I'll show you in the morning. Just try to get your munchies over with now."
So they slept through a whole night without a single gram of chronic. There were no urges to eat everything in the pantry. Goebbels hated it. But it would be worth it the next morning.
"Hey, shortys, get yo' raggety asses outta bed!" the ho yelled at the sleeping Aryans.
"Bitch, I'm tryin' to sleep." Goebbels said, before being pulled out of bed.
Then the kids walked into the kitchen, Handson made sure the weed was still in his pocket.
"Getchyo damn jackets on." she demanded. Handson looked at their father, who was layed back with a lit blunt in his mouth. He clearly just had sex.
"Damnit, she bent Dad to her will." Handson whispered to Goebbels.
After getting their kicks and hoodies on, the ho took them outside, and started walking them into the forest. Handson felt in his pocket for a joint, and threw it on the ground about 30 feet away from the house. The ho walked their asses deeper into the forest, and every minute, he would drop another joint onto the ground. About forty minutes passed before Goebbels noticed what he was Handson was doing. She no gusta.
"Nigga, da fuck are you doin' with my weed." Goebbels whispered.
"Savin' our lives. bitch."
"How is wastin' my weed gonna save us?"
"I'll tell you later. Just shut the fuck up and follow the ho."
And they did. For 5 goddam hours. It was almost night time what the ho stopped at a small clearing deep in the woods.
"Aaight. This is where you'll be sleeping." she said.
"In the woods? You crazy, bitch?" Goebbels replied.
"I ain't nobody's bitch." the ho yelled back.
"Bitch, you everybody's bitch. You like the community bitch. Or the communism bitch. Everybody gets some."
"Fuck you." the ho threw down some firewood and sleeping bags into the middle of the clearing. "I am a grown-ass woman. I ain't gon' tolerate this bullshit from a little white punk."
"Grown-ass is right. What, did you stuff packing peanuts into yo' butt or something? You look like you got Tyler Perry's ass."
"Wh- you're too young to even have an ass, bitch. I ain't havin' this."
"You ain't havin' what? All the food in the house? Too late, you already did, fatass."
"You know what, screw this. I'm outta here. I hope a bear comes and rips yo' tits off." the ho stomped away from the clearing.
"Yeah, well at least I have tits, ya double-A nympho!" Goebbels yelled back at the retreating ho.
She laughed for a minute or two before solemnly saying "Well, we're fucked".
"Not really. I laid out the joints on the ground when we were walking, so we could follow them back to the house." Handson said with pride.
"If it doesn't work, and I lose my weed, I'm gonna have to kill you."
"Don't worry about it. There'll be more weed when we get back home. Let's just light the fire and go to bed."
Goebbels took out her lighter and set fire to the wood. When it was dark, they both layed in the clearing to try to get some sleep. Goebbels was the one to break the silence.
"I can't go to sleep, Handson."
"I don't care." he mumbled from underneath his sleeping bag. "Just try to."
"But I can't stop thinking about my weed. It's out there, cold and alone."
"Oh for fucks sake. Is there anything you think of other than weed?"
Goebbels thought about the question. The only thing that crossed her mind was 'weed weed weed weed weed weed weed'.
It turned out that weed was literally thing she could think about.
"No." she replied to her brother's question.
"You need to cut down on the drugs. I swear, your like Jimmy fuckin' Hendrix. Turn around, catch you drowning in your own puke."
Goebbels was silent after that, and they both eventually went to sleep.
The next morning, Handson woke Goebbels up and they both went to follow the trail of joints. There was only one problem: the last joint he layed down wasn't there.
"Uhhhhhh." he muttered to himself. Goebbel's eyes widened.
"Nigga, where's the joint?"
Handson looked all around, but didn't see any weed.
"Oh shit, they must have blown away in the wind." he said.
Goebbel's left eye twitched a bit. "Remember how I said I was gonna kill you if it didn't work?"
Handson reached into his pocket and felt something. He pulled out two leftover joints and handed one to Goebbels.
"Well, it turns out we are fucked. But two last joints between friends." Handson said to his sister.
Goebbels was still mad as hell, but she couldn't turn down weed. So they lit up the doobies, and in a couple hours, became two giggling, bumbling idiots.
"And so I said-" Handson said, interrupted by his own chuckle. "And so I said 'that's not a ruler, that's my dick."
Goebbels snickered and laughed madly, as if it was the funniest joke ever told. In a sober state, it wouldn't have been funny, but weed makes everything funny. Even the Holocaust if you tell them the nazis sounded like Christopher Walken.
"Aw shit. Dude, I'm hungry as fuck." Goebbels said to her brother, who chuckled at her simple statement.
"I know, man. We gotta go find something to eat."
So the two walked to no particular destination, snickering and laughing at every mothafucking thing they walk past. After a couple hours, their munchies were getting worse. Lucky for them, they walked into another clearing. This one had a house. Not just any house. A house made out of doritos, and Pop Tarts, and bean burritos, and cereal, and tacos, and Cheez-Its, and Fruit by the Foot; everything that a stoner needs to cure their munchies.
"Woah, Goebbels. Did you put something in this weed?" Handson said, looking at what he thought was a hallucination.
"Nah man, thats- that's an actual house made of snack foods!"
"Halle-fuckin'-lujah!"
The two started eating chunks of different parts of the house. They went fucking nuts on it. Goebbels gnawed on the Pop-Tart fireplace, and Handson got done chomping on a waffle brick, before he heard someone on the inside.
"Who's that outside?" an elderly man asked. Handson and Goebbels were frozen in place. An old white man stumbled out of his front door. The man saw them and gave a chuckle.
"You two seem hungry, seeing as how you're eating my home. Would you like to come in? I have milk."
"Milk? Hell yeah. Got any purp drank?" Handson asked, following the old man. Goebbels stopped him in his tracks.
"Wait a minute. I don't trust this guy." she whispered into his ear. "He doesn't care if we eat his house, he invites us in like nothing happened, and where does a mothafucka get all this food anyway? I'm tellin' ya, he's bad shit."
"Don't jump to conclusions yet. Just wait and see if anything happens. In the mean time, I can hear purp drank callin' my name."
The two walked inside, where there were a couple glasses of milk on the table. The kindly old man was brewing tea on a kettle.
"Tea, huh? Suspicious-ass mothafucka." Goebbels muttered to herself. Handson ignored her and took a gulp of his drink.
"So, bangin' place you got here." he pointed out.
"Yes, I inherited it when someone shot all the Keebler Elves who lived in this cottage. It uh, wasn't me though." the old man replied.
"Coolio."
Goebbels was preoccupied examining the kitchen, and her arm accidentally knocked her milk over.
"Oh shit. Yo, my bad." Goebbels said.
"No, it's quite alright. Just get a mop from the closet for me. Down the hall, third door on the left."
Goebbels did what he told her, and opened the closet. Her eyes widened as mops were not the only thing inside. Bibles, catholic robes, and pictures of the Pope sat on the shelves. Goebbels grabbed the mop and quickly shut the door. She had to tell Handson.
"And that was how I shot- I mean met Martin Luther King." the old man finished his story to Handson.
"Damn. Did he like grape drank?"
"Oh, did he ever! And chicken too."
Handson chuckled and continued drinking. Goebbels gave the old man the mop, and took Handson out side.
"Handson, we got our asses a problem."
"A problem? Damn straight we got a problem. I was about to hear a story about how Reverend King liked fried chicken, and yo' ass is draggin' me away. That's the problem."
"No, really. I went in the closet, and I found Bibles, pictures of the Pope and all kinds of other shit."
"And?"
"Handson? He's a Catholic priest." she whispered.
"Yeah, and? Catholic grape drank still tastes like grape drank to me."
"Nigga, do you know what happens to kids around Catholic priests? Molestation, that's what?"
"Bitch, you fuckin' crazy. Unless you have some proof, Imma go back inside."
Handson walked into the cottage, followed by Goebbels. Goebbels took the opportunity of the old man being distracted by Handson to investigate. She looked in the closet again. There was nothing to rapey. She checked the bathroom, but that was clear too. She did the same thing for almost every room, and she was about to give up. Tired as hell, she leaned against a bookshelf. It shifted with her weight, and Goebbels got suspicious.
She slid the bookshelf over with all her strength. Behind it was a hole in the wall, leading into another room. She walked in and felt for a light switch. Once she got the lights on, she almost shit her pants in terror. Fuzzy handcuffs, gags, viagra, and lubricants of all kinds lined the walls. She tried to slowly step back from the scene. She heard the clang of a metal object to her head, fell over, and passed out.
When Goebbels woke up, she was in a dark room with a splitting headache. She looked around, but it was too dark to see anything. A few minutes later, she heard locks being unlocked from the other side of what was obviously a door. The door opened, and the old man pushed Handson in with her.
"You kids these days, always disrespecting your elders, not letting them have sex with you? Who else am I gonna bone out here in the woods?"
The old man shut the door, making it dark again. Goebbels and Handson sat silently for a few more minutes before Goebbels piped in.
"I told ya, dumbass."
"Shut the fuck up, and help me find a way out." Handson replied. He thought hard before remembering something.
"Wait a minute. This whole building is made of food." he said. Handson walked over to a wall on his right and licked it.
"Fuckin' sugar wafers." he said. Handson punched the brittle wall, revealing sunlight on the other side.
"Quick, lets get the hell outta here before he gets back." said Goebbels.
Handson punched and kicked the wall until there was a hole big enough to fit through. After they were out, the two walked away from the scene. The man was like, 60 years old, he wasn't gonna run them down. Unless he was secretly Kenyan. That would suck.
"And that's why you don't trust old white people, or Catholic priests, or any Catholics for that matter." Goebbels said to her brother, who left without any grape drank.
With all the food they shoved in their pockets, it would last a few days, though they were completely out of weed. After a while of wandering aimlessly, and weedlessly through the forest, they found their parents' house. They knew they should have felt glad to be home, but then they remembered that they were still broke and the ho still wanted them dead.
"Aw fuck it." They thought, walking through the front door. Their dad was sitting at the table, drowning his sorrows in cheap vodka. Not even the good stuff. It was practically store-brand.
"Dad?" Handson said. The dad looked up and smiled a big dumbass smile.
"Holy mothafuckin' tit shit. Kids... come- come 'ere. I wa- I wanna give you a- a hug." he said drunkenly. He tried to get out of the chair, but fell onto his face.
"Dad, where's the ho?" Goebbels asked.
"Oh, her? She- she ran away. And by ran away, I mean I killed her and threw her body in the river. Show of hands, who's gonna miss her?"
Nobody raised their hands.
"Didn't think so."
"Oh, dad." Handson said, pulling him into a big hug. It was pretty gay, and Goebbels was quick to point it out.
"You two are the biggest faggots I have ever known."
After that day, things went smoothly. With the ultra-bitch gone, their dad could invest in new, hotter bitches. And with time, he became the most successful pimp in the area. Goebbels grew up to raise one of the largest marijuana farms in the country. Handson became a well-renowned food critic, tasting everything from the finest grape drank to the most eloquent fried chicken. Yes, things seemed to be going well for the pimp and his German adopted kids.
But out there was still an old Catholic child molester. He was mad, and he was going to have his vengeance. If it was the last thing he did, one day, those kids would get fucked. With no vaseline.
When Ice Cube was done, Pinkie Pie's face came to mere centimeters away.
"So did they get raped?" Pinkie asked.
I'll leave it to the imagination." Ice Cube said.
"What's a Catholic?" Scootaloo asked next.
"Are they part of that Ku-Kluckers-Flan you were warnin' us about the other day?" asked Apple Bloom.
"Are the dad and Handson actually gay?" asked Sweetie Belle.
"What does gay mean?" Silver Spoon piped in.
"What's a kiloPascal?" Snails said.
"Why do we have to learn Chemistry?" Snips asked.
"Why do Humans wear pants all the time?" asked Pipsqueak.
Ice Cube listened to the rapid-fire questions in awe. The conversation went off the rails faster than an internet thread. Somewhere in the chaos, a pony with a few hat asked what a clitoris was.
How the fuck did they get off topic so quick? he thought to himself.
Suddenly, the class seemed to go quiet. They were staring at Ice Cube, agape. He looked to a startled Cheerilee, and then down at his legs. For seemingly no reason, magic enveloped him and glowed brighter every second.
"What. The. Fuck." he said to himself. He felt himself demolecularize at the behest of whoever was using the magic. Ice Cube finally decided, he fucking hated this town. It was pain free, but in moments, Ice Cube could tell he wasn't going to be in the schoolhouse much longer. He closed his eyes, and waited for whatever stupid-ass thing Equestria had in store this time.
In a moment, Ice Cube was gone. Among the silent gaping mouths, Cheerilee muttered, "Holy shit."
"Miss Cheerilee!" the class yelled.
"Watch yer language." Apple Bloom scorned. "Yer setting a bad example for us."
Ice Cube opened his eyes. He was no longer in the school-house. Instead, he found he had been teleported into what looked like the inside of a palace, complete with two ponies on thrones, and a sea of bickering bureaucrats and politicians beneath them. Ice Cube didn't know why he was there, but he sure as hell didn't like it.
Here Ice Cube was, the fucker of police, the killer of Uncle Sam, sitting in a room with angry politicians bitching about their high social statuses and abundance of money.
Someone just fuckin' shoot me.
Also LikedSimilarAuthor
- Maxis122 · 4.8k words · 30 2 · 1.7k views
- Stillmatic · 9.9k words · 27 39 · 1.9k views
- Peregrine Caged · 5.7k words · 12 0 · 1.2k views
- Eagle Heart · 10k words · 16 3 · 905 views
- CosmicAfro · 1.3k words · 17 0 · 608 views
- skyrimlegion · 7.6k words · 36 6 · 1.8k views
- totallynotabrony · 7.2k words · 80 3 · 2k views
- tragicCaligula · 1.2k words · 16 3 · 1.5k views
Stats
Page generated in 0.233 seconds
Total duration
934 users online
1,934,135 hits today, 2,073,628 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Huh, I don't know how I didn't have this favorited. *shrug* Guess I have some reading to catch up on.
2210018 yes... yes you do...
And who the fuck knew eating soup could get you so much dough! I mean, seriously! It's genius!
The moral of Hansel & Gretel: It's not the first time that Germans stuffed people into ovens.
But seriously, well played, man. This was hilarious.
That catholic bit got me.
It's funny cause it's true, even though I'm a catholic, I find that funny as hell!
PURP DRANK!!!
SHIT YEAH!!
So worth the wait!
Now what's gonna happen to ol' Cube?!?
how come ice cube makes every fairy tail 20% cooler
The princesses have taken intrest is Ice Cube.
Tha shit, nigga? Shit was da bomb. Also "yo".
Am I doing it right? I'm as far from practical ebonics as an eskimo is from getting laid by anything but a walrus.
2210203 OAAWWWWW DAYYYYYMMNN. You just had to say it?
2210018>>2211309 You two. Tomorrow. Collab. You can no longer run, or in TNaB's case, sleep with your girlfriend as an excuse to stop writing. It will be finished.
2214256 Er, as long as it's like 0200 UDT
2214899
bwaff.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/i-know-that-feel-bro.jpg
It's lines like this that just complete your life. Know what I'm sayin?
If you make him bitch slap Prince Blueblood, I'll become your slave.
2212253
1) I think you got it right. It's hard to fuck up the word 'yo'.
2) I actually dated an Eskimo girl. After white people introduced them to stores, and they stopped eating pure fat, their sex appeal got much higher.
Oh Gods, the Gods of Equestria themselves want a word with him, I have feared this day, gods are not as amused by stories as childern are.....shit. But as for the story, shit, that was funny as buck. It was nothing new to see Ice Cube talk about weed
Now I want Derpy to smoke some Hay Weed
Or Pinkie Pie
Or even better yet...Fluttershy
Man, this is such a very well thought of fic
I can't WAIT for more
2322565 Thanks man. Glad you like it. I got 18 notifications, and 9 of them were from you.
2324048 Happy to be of help bro, I'm really enjoying this story, this is going to be fun
2439395 We don't read the same fics. I fucking write them and you read them and have the honour and privilege to like them and praise them. And you bloody well love it!
Just... just because I happened to comment on the same story as you did has nothing to do with it... at all. Baka.
2440065 Isseus, you so cray-cray, stay chill
Probably the single greatest thing I've ever read.
Hell, the premise alone is pure gold.
I'm not sure if anyone's pointed it out yet, but Ice T is the one in Law and Order, not Cube.
4354929
4354929oh my! My sides!
yo dis shit is solid
This story man, old days were crazy haha
PURP DRANK! WHERE'S MY NEXT CHAPTER! Also, how does it feel having less than ten dislikes on this awesome story?
this shit way too funny dawg lol had me weak af