> The Two Idiots Of Canterbury (Part of Equestria: Z)
>  by SUPERCHARGER2001
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Boggy Depot (Prologue)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“See Bob, there coming out of the wet-work! We've got to get something in order fast!” Royce yelled out.


“Oi-ahh! Shit, shut up Royce! What are you a fucking renegade or a martyr to the unit here?” Bob yelled back just as loud.


Both companies have been feeding off each others repressed anger for the last two days in a big empty building they were in holed up in.


They were inside a barn.


Sloan was the one mare with these two idiots and she was the one with the most skill in killing/or murdering other ponies. She had been doing it for a living in the last 15 years - since being discharged from the military, she needed a new avenue of income to support herself.  


peeking through the barn door with their eyes; Bob and Royce looked at the mounds of infected ponies peaking through the bushes. At least several hundreds of them were toppling one another as they made their way to the helpless victim, that had his wing submerged under several large pieces of a collapsed building.

"Holy fuck Roy! That must be at least three hundred of those crazy bastards," Bob said. "and very antsy too I might add."


"Yeah but what about that stallion over there? Can't we help him?" Royce pleaded.


"Hey! Don't fill me up on that fucking train wreck. You left him there when I told you that you had two choices between a new set of armor or another able body in our group of three." He said.


"Don't include me on your crap! You fucking lunatics," Sloan started off. "I can't believe in all power of Celestia, that I'm stuck here with you two dicks!" 


"Hey if we didn't pull you out of that herd, you would've been bare bones by now. Shit? That was back when there was less than a few stragglers in this whole town." Bob sat down on the wooden floor that was covered with piles of hay.


"OH no! OH NO! There near him! Bob we got to do something!" Royce jumped up and down in his usual frantic way of handling tough situations.


"What am I a fucking ventriloquist?" Bob retorted.


"If you have to be one, fine! But save this poor mans ass. Please!" Royce retorted.


"You guys are really messed up you know? Back in my training and the jobs I do now? We always, always had total control in an-"


"SHUT UP YOU DUMB MARE!" Both of the idiots yelled in unison. 


They quickly looked back through the several small holes inside the door and watched sharply as the infected ponies were a few minutes away from the lone stallion.


"OH dammit Bob we can't just leave him there! He'll be eaten alive. We got to do something? Anything!" He shook his short partner frantically.


Bob shrugged off his friends broad shoulders in a Heep of rage, "What do you want me to fucking do Royce!"


Royce sat down while his friend sat up and grilled him with another lesson he was just going to have to accept in life.


"Look you read belly bastard! I love you and I love and hate that you are stupid. But you are being realllly fucking stupid right now, you know that?" Bob tried to reason with his friend.


"B-b-b-but how?" Tears were welling up between his eyes. Any moment he was about to burst out.


"You want to go out there and attract the fucking hordes of dead onto our little shin-dig Royce?! Nice. Just nice and peachy." Sloan stammered.


"Hey now you like the situation were in?" Bob cocked an eyebrow in half disbelief.


Sloan no longer leaned down at the far end of the barn and walked slowly to the two bickering fools. Her posture was kept perfect with each passing step.


"No. I don't like the situation where in. I don't like you and your retarded friend. And I don't like the fact that my simple job to assassinate one bloody mare was shot down by the likes of you two!" She fumed.


The other two blinked in unison. Minus the fact that Royce was already crying also.


"The worst part is," She sighed before taking a place beside Bob. "I'm not even going to get paid anymore..."


The silence around town had built up to the point where only, the loud noises of long droning moans captivated the air around the empty streets of Canterbury. 


"You, okay Sloan?" Royce whimpered but his voice was more audible than a minute ago. 


"Yeah Royce. Yeah. I'm fine." Her voice crackled during the last bit.


The moment finally arose when all three heard the loud screams of the one trapped blue stallion screaming out his final moments of life.


Even Sloan went to peek through the hole of the barn door. 


Soon all three stood there at complete shock in revelation, when their eyes followed the toppling infected lunging themselves over the helpless pony.


It didn't fully hit their heads at the situation until they saw the first peeks of blood escaping the ponies neck and stomach.


Over 70 ponies were atop this guy. And only hundreds more followed behind them.


All the dead ponies had gaping wounds across their bodies, showing several signs of teeth marks and continuous gnawing at their bones and flesh long after they were dead.


Sloan turned her head in disgust after seeing the stallions wing get ripped out from its stem by three other infected ponies.


Bob had already turned his body away from the horror that his eyes had been subjected too.


Royce however kept his jaw down and watched the whole event unfold. His mind battled with thoughts of how they couldn't save this blue stallion nor how he could possibly forgive Bob for leaving this poor pony to the vultures that now choked on his flesh.


He didn't even turn away when a dozen or so ponies bit into his hips and pulled away his lower half with nothing but their teeth and jaws. 




Bob Stooch and Royce Fillymoing were Canterbury’s little law enforcement; or more importantly. Canterbury’s problem.


These two idiots have been in power for more than two years and the town was sick of them. Sick of causing them more problems than they can fix. Their hooves were unclean, so to speak. And they were some of the dumbest the force has seen in a long time in all of Equestria.


Particularly Royce Fillymoing – as he was half mentality disabled all through his life since his accident when he was a small 


colt. But Bob respected and loved the guy to the death. He even stole ID and forged his friends name from another Stallions birth certificate that made him entirely disabled free. Thus, it gave him a new avenue of dreams to endure. Meaning it was a chance to live a new life; so no one actually knew his real name –apart from his only family and Bob himself.


Bob Stooch on the other hand was a short guy while his counterpart was taller, muscular and bigger in size. His lifestyle was hard lived. He was a raging alcoholic and a severe druggy when it came to painkillers. An addict in retrospect. He had mild depression throughout his life and a mean temper. Thankfully his friend always kept him tamed and handled properly.


They both answered an ad one morning while they were nursing a miserable hangover in the city of Bayston. It was the day after the city had celebrated their own version of the grand galloping gala often known as, “The notorious party of the year!” The city was renowned for throwing down the sickest and craziest event filled with endless decadence and debauchery. 


The ad talked about the deaths of two very well respected stallions within the community that only made the two idiots scowl with disgust. 


At the end of the ad it finally discussed potential applicants as temporary relief law enforcement in a small ruddy town known as Canterbury. Giddy with delight, Royce immediately wanted in while the latter was skeptical about this position. Bob said that he would have to find some legitimate certificates and new green cards to register with; since they were among the thousands of immigrants that were being dropped off daily in Equestria from big carriers and ships. 


After the black plague had started in Europonia a few months back. They needed to get rid of millions of uneducated ponies that lived in squander and poverty throughout the desolate continent. 


The continent was literally tearing itself apart from all of the civil riots and the black plague that was dwindling its total population and resources.  


When the idiots finally reached Canterbury after some setbacks they handed their applications and hoped for the best. Four days later they got the call after the mayor found Bob drunk in a ditch while Royce was playing with a dead mouse. Both were given weapons and armor and a handbook that displayed the meanings of being a lawman.


For the next two years they would wreak havoc on the innocent population of 900 ponies, and terrorize the citizens with complete decadence and stupidity.


Bob Stooch was the smart guy out of the two, so he always held a leash for his friend, while Royce in return. Would make sure Bob didn’t go over the limit and not swear as much. Usually that only worked when Royce cried in public; putting Bob in complete submission mode while he tended to his frantic friend.


Bob always loved his friend but thought he was a complete nuisance and a loud mouth sometimes. Always screaming when looking at simple things like a post card or a ladies rump. It got to the point where he had to keep Royce locked in the police department once and a while because he was such a fucking train wreck when it came to doing their job.


He would say the same thing that always made Royce cry each time before locking him in.


“Listen buddy. I got no time for your shit today, alright?” Bob started off. “Your scaring locals again and I don’t want to spend another three months looking for a job just to keep our rumps plotted down in one place again. Got it!”


“B-b-b-but I thought you liked me funny?” Royce quivered.


“Awe geez Royce, not this shit again! What I have to do this time, kiss your ass once more?” He said. 


“Well, you did that one time. So mayb-” Royce was cut off mid-sentence.


“Sweet berry fuck Roy! It was one night, and we were both drunk. And I gave you a bit of hash for Tartarus sakes! Why does everything have to be so damn sentimental for you?” He stammered before slamming the door and locking the padlock on his friend.


“Please Bob! Don’t go! Don’t go! Please don’t. Don’t leave me alone!” He cackled before reducing to loud moans and soft sobbing that sounded so mute that no pony would’ve heard him from across the street. Royce was a man who didn’t rely on much in life, he didn’t care if he was broke or rich. Rich or poor. Lived in a box or lived in a homeless shelter. He only wanted a friend. A friend that he could be with and laugh and cry with. Nevertheless, he just missed Bob more than ever when he locked that door on him. He even told Royce that playing with the lights too much could cause a fire sooner or later. So he told him to leave the lights off at all times, even when it got dark.






Bob Stooch and Royce Fillymoing had heard various reports of the inevitable crossing paths over to Equestria and all around globally. Sometimes through letters from the federal law or rumors that spread around the town from several other different ponies.


They had heard that the plague of their old life was finally sprouting its devious wings and cross passing with the harmony and love of Equestria.


Of course they didn’t know the plague that was in Equestria didn’t start from their Europonia descendants, however. But it was another virus that was slowly sweeping up the nation one corner at a time. No one could've predicted how big it was going to get. 

And certainly these two didn't know the events that had taken place in Ponyville yet.


Nobody in Canterbury liked them at all. Every pony hated the way how they handled the town from a peace officer stand point. 


They were one of the worst units known to ponies. 


And it didn’t help when Mayor Albuckroisky only hired them on the bet that they could chug down four whole litres of distilled liquor. Suffice to say, you should never start a contest when it comes with alcohol as the main sport; if it was involving these two idiots at least.


Aside from them being the temporary relief law enforcement. It already had passed two full years. And since the town was left with a small population and a higher death rate count than crime rate. Nobody in the force in Equestria wanted to be bothered with that shit. 


In the end they never requisitioned a new set of units nor did they ever issued another letter back to Canterbury stating they will ever try again.


To everybody in Equestria? The country had abandoned the little hamlet of Canterbury from a budgetary standpoint.





Bob was talking to another pony about shoplifting at the candy store. She had stolen three gum drops and one large-sized chocolate bar by placing the contents within the whisk of her magic.


They were both sitting at a table booth inside the candy story with him explaining the lesson of not stealing. She told him why she had taken the treats with full intention.


“Look I only did it because we are making it through hard times,” She said.


“Yeah but stealing candy? Isn’t there some other shit you could be stealing if you’re in hard times as you fondly stamped out,” He blushed a little at his comical way of reasoning with other pony citizens.


“Look shouldn’t I be getting better treatment than this?!” She aggravated.


“What? Don’t like my mannerisms? Well SHHHHIT!” He purposely yelled as he hunched over the table right up into the mare’s face.


She didn’t like the taunting tone he was procrastinating onto her. She nearly got off her rump and stormed out of building when he tapped her leg with his hoof to focus back into the conversation.


“Listen, my young mare in need.” 


Her eyes darted off into a different direction before he slapped her into action, 


“Look here missy! You’re going to answer some questions and I’m going to get some good answers, you dig?” He says.


“Fine you creepy incessant prick! What do you want?” She lashed out with every pony hearing them across the street and inside the shop.


“There! My kind of matters, now shall we get to business?” He left that question untouched as he cocked an eyebrow before blurting out the words that usually left his victims angered and annoyed. 


“My young mare in need…”


“Gah! That’s it Mr. Stooch! I had enough of your shit for the day. Now good day to you, sir.” She said before getting off her seat and leaving with the treats under her magic levitation spell.


“Hey! Wait right there you red belly clever son of a bitch!” He spat out.


She stopped dead in her tracks. Fear racing through the minted green mare's veins.


“Now if you are going to leave? You must remember two things in this town. One: I always win and two: You haven’t returned stolen merchandise.” He raised his forehoof as she turned around to face him. Contents still hanging in the air from her horn. She would have gotten away with it too if this scruffy looking pony wasn't here. 


She fumed out her muzzle in a heat of rage before taking place back in her seat.


Bob knew this women all too well.


She coldly dropped the assorted contents all over the floor, splaying across the pristine shiny coated checkered floor pattern.


She licked her lips and placed her forehooves over the table and huffed away her white mane that clouded a part of her right eye.


Bob smirked and grinned proudly at his tactic that suited his persona all too well.


He gloated one last time before beginning, “So my young mare in need? I’ll start first I assume.”


The mare gritted her teeth and stared at him with cold dead looking eyes that would seem all too familiar later on.


“Go…ahead.” She grind her teeth.


The other employees were hesitated to enter within the mare's reach in fear they would be slashed or swatted down if they got too near. Unfortunately the boss wasn't exactly keen on seeing his stock get trampled anymore for the day. So he ordered two young ponies to finish the job and get on with their work.  


Both of them had severe acne problems and their faces blistered with dozens of zits that made Bob look much more presentable as a lousy drunk than these two teen aged ponies who probably jerked themselves to mare on mare magazines at night.


He licked his lips and began with a sharp tongue and cunning sense to aim at the head of his objective. In some ways, he always worked like the towns official detective. A quality that will leave his mark among the ponies of Canterbury forever.


He placed his forehooves over the counter too and smiled once more before officially beginning the mares’ trial.


“So…What’s this I hear about dead ponies?”
> The Greater Of Two Evils 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What about them?” she asked.


“You know the dead ponies? The ponies in black. The ponies with a sickness – like the fucking black plague sickness you twat! What else!” He raised his hooves to give his response more impact.


“Alright you bucking wanker I get it!” she snorted. “So why am I being questioned about the Eurponia black plague?”


“Well…you’re being questioned because every other fool in this cesspool doesn’t want to talk to me about this mysterious sickness, that’s what!” he stammered.


The mint-green mare fidgeted with her tail. Stroking through the thin hairs softly, she patterned her forehoof from the front to the back of her bone. She looked back up at the zany cop in front of her.


He repeated once more, “And I know there are discussions around the community of Canterbury about this sickness. So don’t play dumb with me missy.”


“Listen sheriff…I know something about something happening in Equestria at the moment. It’s fucking big too.” She told him.


“Well? Spill the beans you kooky half-dried up whore, come on!” He whispered.


“Hey! No need for that talk. You want to hear my side of the story or don’t you! Geez every time you talk you put your hoof up your fucking mouth, now listen here.” she shot back. Her eyes flared a demonic essence throughout her body that sent a shiver down Bob’s spine.


That put Bob Stooch in his place for the moment. For a very brief moment.


“Now I’ve heard some things, okay? I heard that something really big went down in a small town last week.”


“Where did you hear it from? An informant? Relative. What did you hear?” he asked her.


“You know. You’re fucking more desperate than I was when it came to that candy.” she blushed a little around her muzzle. Soaking in every chance she got to procrastinate and annoy this dumb cop.


“Oi! Shut up and just tell it how it is okay? This is the first I’ve managed to make a dent in this fucking place since the robbery last year. So spill some beans and fucking work at it, alright!” he snorted angrily with his loud voice that it made the others in the candy shop cringe with fear.


“Okay, look. Here is what happened,” she started off.


“Ahem.”


Nothing but silence filled the little shop.


Bob impatiently waited for this young mare to start but she only blinked at him than at the wall behind him.


“What are you doing?” Bob asked her.


She shuffled her body towards him, moving the chair closer. She signaled for him to come closer also.


He rolled his eyes and did as he was told.


She swayed her forehoof to his direction once more. Her legs jittered in anticipation as the stallion slowly ascended to her position.


He was now within arm’s reach. She impassively grabbed him closer to her snout than threw him back before the moment even fully sunk in.


In that small timeframe she whispered something so blatant to Bob Stooch that he would’ve threw a book at any mare or stallion if he had one within his own reach. 


“Awe for-what is this? Daily drama in the papers!” he yelled out.


He stood up over his seat and accidently tapped the table with his hip. The vibration of the wobbling sound it made couldn’t have been more outmatched than his loud snarl to the ponies inside the building.


“Alright everypony! Clear the fucking building because we got major important business to do here.” 


“H-h-hey you can’t do that this is my shop! You evil little pony.” Gustavio said.


Mark Gustavio was an Earth pony and the local bakery owner here in Candy Ship Delights; he had it running for 18 years deep and it was 18 years he was honestly not proud of. From a retired hard working pony’s standpoint like himself – It didn’t really spark the same passion as building a bridge or constructing the pre-production stages of an architecture layout for new government buildings. 


And it didn’t spark the same passion if you only got to sit around baking treats and listening to the hottest gossip of the week.


But it paid the bills and kept a roof over his head. Not to mention that it kept his paraplegic wife happy and kept his kids noses clean from any bad habits that trailed on through this lonely town.


Gustavio yelled out with in his whiny Italian accent, “You can’t tell my customers to leave!”


“Oh but I just did fraggle rock; and listen here, listen well.” he raised his eyebrow. “You better not call me little again, my young stallion in need. Otherwise…you’ll see the bad cop in me. And you don’t like the bad cop, right?”


At this point every customer had shuffled out of the store and raced past one another to peek their heads through the windows outside the shop.


Gustavio and Stooch stared down hard at each other. Both of their eyes inflamed with sheer intense animosity against one another. The feeling of death creaked through the cracks of the walls and seeped into the veins of Bob as he was soon to pop in front of his witness.


Fortunately Mark Gustavio had better plans when one of his sons came flying in with a porno mag and some hoof cream. 


The boy was a brown teenaged stallion with freckles around his face and clean cut mane. He immediately froze as he dropped the contents onto the floor in utter shock. The three adult ponies in the room all had different looks on their faces. All of which represented one thought that telepathically transcended through each of their brains in a matter of seconds.


‘I’ve been there before.’


Gustavio instantly jumped up and flipped out like all Italians did and cursed with all types of swears that could’ve been possibly made since the beginning of ponies’ existence. 


Good thing he kept half of his cool by cursing in a language the two other ponies across from him didn’t recognize.


While the swearing ensued, Bob Stooch decided to take this gracious opportunity and be just his natural self with the most obnoxious response ever.


“Son, you must have a big dick.” he said with the lowest gurgling voice he could muster up.


Gustavio stopped his uncanny speech and looked over his shoulder in a gnarled look that clearly showed the several wrinkles across his brown face.


Mortified, his widened eyes made Bob grin with pleasure while the minted green mare’s right cheek twitched a little bit as her whole face became puzzled on the many routes this conversation has taken. 


“W-w-what the buck did you say!” Gustavio spat.


“I said,” He walked over to the owner who was in front of his son. “You’re boy must have a big wiener.” he whispered.


“Why…I never-”


“Mr. Stooch is this really necessary?” The mare barked.


This caught them off guard momentarily.


Bob huffed and faced the mare with fixated eyes darted right at her own.


He was about to scream the loudest he possibly could, but then the memory of Royce fluttered through his head.


He fought the massive surge of intense hate moaning out of his mouth in just a nick of time.


“I thought this is what you wanted?”


The three other ponies looked at him in awe.


“W-what do you mean Mr. Stooc-”


He instantly shot her down, “As I recall? You told me to get rid of all these ponies so that we can have that chat. You can’t tell me that you were joking on kicking these poor ponies out on their backsides? Now could you…”


“I-”


“Good. I knew you seen reason. Now Mr. Gustavio I want you to leave this building for about twenty minutes, alright?” he stammered.


“But this is my shop! And this is my-” Bob simply put his forehoof up in the air.


“Listen! You can get nabbing pamby with me. Or you can take your little weight and your son’s dignity and fight with him elsewhere. 


“I got no time for your shit right now because I’m dealing with important matters that could pertain the rest of Canterbury’s survival here. So get the fuck out!” With that hot topic thrown out in the open, he started shoving the owner and his son behind the counter and into the door that lead them to the kitchen. 


“Hey don’t have to be so abrasive…” the kid cried out.


“And you shouldn’t be sneaking into your fathers shop with a fucking kremda la krem issue and fucking hoof cream you idiot!” Bob yelled back.


“Okay mister shouldn’t you stop with the angry slurs?” Gustavio said.


“What?! And stop being my own self!” Bob was baffled with this treachery. “Gosh you’re fucked in the head. Now get going hair-do!”


“At least don’t call my son a fucking idiot for Celestia sakes!” Gustavio barked.


“And you should’ve given him a room to masturbate in...tssk, tssk.” Bob snorted while folding his arms in lockdown mode.


“Fine. Fine have it your way Mr. Stooch but don’t expect to give you twenty percent deals off anymore, you cynical prick.” Gustavio grumbled.


“Hey what’s this shit you’re giving me here? I fucking told you no more insults or else you’ll get the backhoof like the whores of Canterlot’s underworld.


“Now give me a smoke!” he yelled out.


Bob referred to Gustavio’s son. His forehoof waved for the cigarettes that peeked out of the boys red shirts pocket. 


“Me?!” the boy stuttered.


“Yeah you pre-pubes, what else?” Bob piped back.


“Dad?” the boy asked his father’s approval.


“Just do it son so we get this fucking clown out of here. I-I mean s-s-so we can get this fine gentlemen on his way sooner…” Gustavio stuttered.


“Man you really forget simple common courtesy, didn't you?” Bob shook his head in disappointment.


Gustavio swallowed a ball of saliva down his throat and flicked his tail up and down nervously. He watched in an envious manner at how this guy had bigger balls than he could ever hope to gain when forcing his son to do something.


“I’m fucking starting to run out you know.” the boy aggravated as he hoofed him two cigarettes.


“Ah fuck off,” he muttered back to the boy; swaying his forehoof inches away from the boy’s muzzle.


Bob Stooch put one cigarette over his ear while stuffing one between his lips. The taste of paper, nicotine and success mixed in with his saliva gave him a malicious grin over his muzzle. 


He glanced over to the two frightened ponies in front of him. He simply swatted them off with his hoof and repeated his favorite words once more; “I said fuck off,”


Gustavio nudged his sons arm to get a move on and soon they were gone to the far end of the shop.


Bob chuckled too himself than walked back to the lone mare still sitting at the booth.


“Well I thought you would’ve certainly ditched me by now, missy?” he muffled with the cigarette in his mouth while offering her the second smoke over his ear.


She accepted, and so he passed her the smoke with his other empty forehoof.


She meekly took the kind gesture and asked for a light, he reached into his stray jacket’s pocket and placed the lighter within her forehoof.


She let it rip and in a minute, the whole room was blazed with smoke.


“So-” Bob coughed before beginning. “Start from the earliest knowledge you have in your thick blue skull, miss.”


The minted colored mare rolled her eyes to the overall vagueness this stallion always spoke with.


“It’s Ms. You redneck and listen here, alright-” the mare didn't get to finish.


“Hey! I can’t help it, I’m Europoniean. What do you expect?” Bob told her.


“Whatever look, listen to my bucking story alright?” she snapped back.


“So what story is it? You being the long lost mare that got raped by three other big gutted stallions or…” he chuckled out loud.


“Haha. Very funny, you know you should be in Comedy show-biz. I hear they have great theatre productions up in Seaddle.” she meekly replied as she turned her head in disbelief and discomfort.


“Hey thanks for the tip. I’ll make sure to send you a post-card when I become a big hit like Chaftle La Plump.” Bob said.


“Is this pony even real?” rolling her eyes, she ruffled with her mane to distract herself from Bob’s shenanigans. 


“Well that’s his persona in Europonia. Really he’s just another working stiff making ends meet by working in dirty bars down in the slums. You know that’s where our little Black Plague started? 


“Down in those infested, run down, and flooded slums. Fucking dirty you know, I hate to be one of those workers trying to fix the underground tunnels while having to deal with everyponys sewage. Eww.”


“Ah yes, now you’re starting to remember why I was here in the first place, right?” she grinned.


“No. You were here because stealing candy seemed a fucking better idea than taking from the local foods store. Plus I’m telling a great story, so why you got to ruin it for us?” Bob retorted.


“Us?” she asked. Her puffing was increasingly getting large with each minute.


“Yes us, because I am the law of this sad little hamlet. And it’s a hamlet that pays well so I will abide by the laws as if I was a serious stallion at this job.” Bob Stooch stated as he got more comfortable with his seat. The rubbing of leather across his back was unpleasing and a total nuisance to his posture.


“But you aren’t that serious, however…I’ve seen your work around this town, and let’s just say that getting drunk and blacking out on the street isn’t exactly official police duty.” she joked.


“Hey WHY I-” he stammered before being shot down by the mare police.


“I expected this from your other deputy, and might I say for both of you. That I’m quite shocked that no one has stolen your badge yet.” the mare cackled at the last part.


“Now missy, there are four things to remember here; one: I only took this job as temporary relief and two: That instantly meant that I shouldn’t have to risk my life over the line for. 


“Three: It’s my way of living to get drunk and stoned once and a while, so fuck off right there. Four: Fuck off again and let’s get back into action as too why I am questioning you here on this beautiful day.”


“Yeah you are the total king of procrastinating…” she flatly stated.


“And you my young miss is a thieving bitch that wants nothing but candy and watching other mare’s rumps jiggle in the night as they walk through the bushes.” Bob giggled at his comical retort again.


“Buck, let’s just get this shit over with. You’re too fucked to insult and I still have a splitting head-ache of the way you hoofed those ponies back there.” she placed her forehooves over her head.


“Remember. You wanted to be the emotional-yet-drama queen drag of the hour, not me.” Bob reminded her of his reason for being a prick.


“GAH! Just shut up and interview me you half mixed, confused and deranged hermit!” she cried out.


“Hermit, is for ponies who are afraid to leave their houses at any time of the day. I only don’t like leaving when the rain falls down on my head.” he said.


“You. Are fucked. Okay?” the mare started off. “Just messed up and really somehow intellectual when you want to be. In a way that amazes me that somepony like yourself could be such a dick yet actually make sense out of any situation?” 


Bob Stooch grinned and tilted his head to one side and gave a half surprised chuckle.


“I aim to please, execute and capture all glory for my own greedy selfish ways. So now are we going to discuss this thing or what?” he geared back the whole conversation to his favor once again.


“Okay, fine. Let’s do it.” she stammered.


“Good.” he snapped back.


“Something big went down in a small town, right? Something like a quarantine but it wasn’t a quarantine because there wasn’t anything to quarantine you see?” she was going down some nasty shit and she didn’t want to repeat herself.


“Yep, keep going.” Bob waved her off.


“Alright well something like. I’m not saying the Black Plague, but it was of similar circumstances.” 


“Ever heard of a famous town in all of Equestria called Ponyville?” 


“Can’t say I recall?” with his forehoof, he rubbed the hairs on his chin in small strokes. “Wait is it that one town with those pony celebrities?”


“There not celebrities and yes that’s the town were talking about.”


“Well I’ll be, is it the town with those err, I mean, whatcha call it….Elements of Horses?”


“Were ponies you dipshit.” she frowned.


“Ponies of honor? I mean! Elements of Honor…Or ponies?” Bob was lost with his words when it came with news around Equestria, shit. He couldn’t even remember something like Discord if it bit him on the rump.


“Gosh you’re really dumb. No! It’s pronounced the Elements of Harmony, and it’s their trademark for all of Equestria, really” 


“Trademark? Like what. It’s fake or something? Wait what is even the Elements of Harmony anyway?” he moved closer to and cocked his to get the full scoop of this unheard of knowledge.


“Want the long story or the short story?” she asked him.


“Short, because scared pony and ejaculate pony are sure to be coming back any moment.” he grumbled.


“Suit yourself, grumpy old man.” the mare smirked.


“Shut up.” he shot back.


“Anyways, these ponies of various colors and special qualities all stopped a terrible old legend from reigning havoc on us ponies during one night in Ponyville. 


“So in return, Celestia herself let Twilight Sparkle stay in Ponyville. And take over Celestia and her sisters old worn out Elements of Harmony and breathe new life to the old vintage pieces..”


“Want me to continue?” she frowned again.


“Yeah. Fuck it,” he responded, “just make it snappy though.” 


“Twilight made friends with these other ponies and together they created a new set of Elements to keep the peace within Ponyville and spread love and harmony throughout the country.” she spoked with glee and half joked on the matter.


“You really want me to continue so more?” she politely asked again. 


“Just shoot!” Bob slapped his forehooves on the table in aggravation.


“Well despite them being the ‘Elements’. They are still just a fad too me personally – meaning they’ll fade within time. Because they aren’t like alicorns, well... 


“One is, but they won’t live past ninety years. I firmly believe that because nopony has gone past hundred and twenty except the alicorns race; and they live over thousands of years. So why in Tartarus these five mares should be treated any differently?”


“So I assume Twilight Sparkle is the alicorn of the bunch; and the head honcho of the group?” he puffed his cigarette once more before shoving the butt onto the table. The ashes sizzled as the smoke in the nicotine finally huffed out its last breath.


“Correct.” the mare spoke proudly.


“Wait, now this is making some sense to me. Is this mare, lavender purple coating?” he questioned.


“Yes.” she took one long puff before placing the cigarette back into her mouth.

“And does this mare happen to know a special pony like that prissy Princess Celestia,”


“Definitely.” she gloomed.


“Well I’ll be. So then, what’s the issue with the infamous Elements that makes you cringe with disdain?”


“It’s not that I don’t like them, I just think that Celestia isn’t being fully honest with honesty; get it?”


“No. No I don’t.” Bob Stooch shook his head.


“Look, do they really know what goes on past this country? No they probably don’t. Do they know what the world does, outside this fake loving Equestria? No they probably don’t. 


“You know why? It’s because Celestia is a cynical and close minded pony, stuck in her menopause phase that had already ended when she past 2,000 years old, that’s what.”


“So you think that Celestia is hiding the world’s problems in a box: And in that box is the solid truth of what everypony goes through every day.” Bob confronted her.


“Yep, and some would think that a Princess like Twilight Sparkle would know a thing or two about the wars, conflicts, prejudices and diseases.”


She paused, and took a deep breath and one final swig with her cigarette before upheaving this big grand finale of news. She puffed again, then began. “Not to mention something big like the plague that is sweeping up this nation!”


“Good gravy fuck! What are you saying?” he slammed the table with his forehooves.


“I’m saying that you might be right about that theory of yours.” she half-jokingly stated.


“About the Black Plague? You know, maybe that is a slight too much. 


“I mean sure it could play the role to whatever went down in Ponyville, but that plague would’ve been well documented. Celestia would’ve told everypony by now. So why the whole silence act?”


“It’s not because of a silence act. It’s because there is no ponies there to begin with!” she now slammed her forehooves onto the table. Her eyes veered directly at him with an evil of her own.


“Wait wha-”


“Whatever went down there is gone. Whatever happened there has now charted off the map. The only thing that is left there is dead ponies and a burned out village.” she admitted.


“What murdered the ponies?” he cocked an eyebrow and rested his spine back onto the unforgiving leather.


“No one knows. Nopony in all of Equestria truly knows what happened down there. 


“The only traces of evidence were shuffled hoof printings in all areas of Ponyville. Trotting off to different corners of Equestria!”


Bob Stooch let her continue.


“Plus the weirdest part was that several of the deceased ponies’ family members were mysteriously gone without a trace.”


“Why like some group went in and stole large quantities of able bodied ponies and slaughtered the rest?”


“Well, it might be like that. But here is where the Black Plague comes into effect.” she starts off. 


“Whatever killed those ponies down there had not only murdered them. But they had literally eaten large amounts of their flesh, 


I’m talking entire chucks ripped out. Entire vital organs ripped out from their stomachs and all that was left was a lot of bones. Tartarus! Even the fucking bones were gnawed until pony teeth markings were imprinted onto hundreds of the said bones.” her face furrowed.


“The fuck? None of that shit happened in Europonia let me tell you, missy!”


“Okay, enlightened me Mr. Smartass.”


“Well alright, here is the true bit. The ponies that originally stumbled with the infection could only infect its hosts with a lethal dose of passing the germs of one’s cough or rarely even. Blood transfusion with the said health-free pony,” 


“Continue.”


“And when these symptoms occurred. Then the only way you could tell is if there was bugs swatting over the diseased ponies and that they are induced with immense anger like grabbing random objects that would either be household items or simple garbage can on the street. 


“It didn’t matter to them, they were already gone after the second stage had passed. Then they would have used these said objects as means to harm any healthy pony walking down the street and beat them to a pulp. Or in worse cases…until they were dead.”


“Not that abrasive eating one another shit theory you have cooked up in your sugar-coated-amped-up-head.”


“Well, that could have be true back in your homeland. Then explain why hasn’t our little white Princess bothered to even make an appearance and discuss the matter openly and publicly?”


“I don’t know?! I’m not exactly friends with the dumb mare, why? Are you?” Bob scolded.


“No. Just adding on to your original statement as too why she hasn’t been open about this plague – if this plague is the official problem, I mean.” she cooed.


“Well alright, fairs fair. So tell me then? Who was your damsel in distress or prince charming that fed you all this hooey then?”


“My friend who was in close relations with one of the ponies there.”


“Who might that be?”


Just then, Gustavio screeched back in with the most baritone yell that could’ve sent shivers down to any pony within the room. If that pony wasn’t Bob Stooch.


“Get the fuck out of here!”


“ALRIGHT you greasy, big gurgling, hot dog bun bastard, you want to take this!” Bob Stooch screamed back as he jumped out of his seat in a steed of rage. He then raised both of his forehooves in the air. His forehooves arched up like ready aimed spears darting down a beeline for a ponies head.


“I’m Serious! I don’t want your gossip here anymore and I DON’T FUCKING CARE about your little weight! Come on, you want this to happen?!” he too followed the same path and waved his forehooves up in the air like a madpony bent out of Tartarus.


“For fuck sakes you two blubbering idiots! Just deal with this and stop the whole testosterone shit!” the mare yelled out as she slumped out of her seat.


She decided to stay in the back of the two bulls but still holler out to them in hopes of not seeing a quick-painful bloodbath.


“Hold on there, dried up missy! I got to take this little beef patty to the other side of my fist!”


“What?” the mare irked.


“Huh?!” Gustavio muttered.


“…J-just go with it for fuck sakes!” Bob yelled back before he ripped out his baton from his long stray jacket and cracked the guy in the hind leg.


“Awe fuck!” Gustavio cried out before falling down to the floor, withering in pain.


“There. That is for threatening an officer of the law, and that is for fucking up our conversation you half deaf moron!” Bob Stooch crouched down and fetched the hostile guy off the ground and onto his hooves.


He put one forehoof over his back and said some more nasty words.


“What are you, fucking hostile? Gonna give me the riff of hour here. Man you aren’t smart, you know?”


“What do you mean?” Gustavio crackled in his hoarse voice while trying to force his whole body back from the slightest tear from escaping his shuttered body.


“What I mean is, that why are you working at a silly bakery shop when you are meant to be a dick! That’s what!”


“Hey fuck you cheese cloth!” Gustavio spat back in his face.


“Yeah, fuck I is right. I will never, ever, ever order your cheese flavored baked bread again!” he furiously stated while shaking Gustavio profusely.


“Yeah well I’m not selling you shit either, buddy.” Gustavio retorted.


“Yeah well, I hope you are happy because no one here likes your shit flavored Boston cream donuts anyways.” he wiped the spit off his face and only needed one more outburst before his fuse was burned.


“Ah fuck off. You incessant prick.” Gustavio sneered.


“Prick’s my middle name bud.” he snickered before chucking Gustavio back into the kitchen with brute force. Gustavio slammed through the doors and went head-first into the checkered pattern floor. His blood and one tooth had ejected from his muzzle before splaying all across the floor that his widened eyes stared in horror at the blood of his own mouth. His snout was broken in two from the impact. The snot mixed in with his blood created an awful smell to his scent. The pain throbbed and made a groove indent feeling throughout his muzzle. 


Coughing and wheezing, he had more sores than he suffered since his days as a labor worker. A swollen and bruised up hind-leg. A tattered and torn face, and small cuts aligned around his pudgy brown face. Adding in his broken snout fared no better for this stallion.


Unfortunately it wouldn’t be his last for the night, as then Bob Stooch busted his ass through the door and stared down at him with the blackest eyes that this Earth pony has ever seen.


He had an epitome of a bruiser in the south. He had the fixed look of a madpony and a drunk. Though he didn’t get drunk until after work nowadays; this night might prove otherwise after he was done fixing up his new friend here.


The mint coated mare stared in shock at the door in front of her, and the noises that ensued behind it. Unmerciful beating was taking place and the loud cackles of a weak man were being squawked out in an irregular fashion.


Bob Stooch wasn’t a man of fighting, nor was he the stallion to make such off moves. But this dick has proven too much on his long fuse, and now Bob was blistering to spur large amounts of excess of pure indefinite rage.  


“Yeah you like that, bitch! You fucking like that! You’re going to suck my cock after this, you skinny little weasel! You’re going to ravish and choke the shit out of it, aren’t you! Fucking grease prick, you go and wreck up my interview and now you plan on insulting and beating the shit out of me? I thought you were a man of your word!”


“Mister please no! I’m sorr-AHHHHHHHHHHH-AHHHHHHHH”


Just then Bob Stooch grabbed Gustavio wrist and snapped it in two with his hoof. He had repeatedly stomped the wrist until it was broken in two, he wasn’t like his Russian counterparts when it came to military punishment. But he was very close into turning one.


The scream was so loud that every pony around the same street would’ve heard. Not to mention that Gustavio’s kid had to hear the horror ensue also.


“AHHHHH-HAHHHHHHHH-AHHHHHHH” Gustavio screeched and screamed until his face was purely swollen from the hot dry tears dripping down his face.


“Gee man you yell way to fucking much!” Bob Stooch mouthed off.


“Crook cop is right I say.” the mare walked through the door and boringly stated.


“I isn’t a crook missy! Just this dick fucked it all up. I mean I didn’t even get my dick sucked!”


“Wait you were serious?!” the mare stared in disbelief and her forehoof motioned for the metal bar to hold her body from falling backwards.


“Well fifty-fifty you see. I mean, I was going to but then…fuck it’s a stallion alright! I couldn’t exactly get my hard on yet, now could I?! So I tried thinking of Danish mares and it could’ve worked, but fuck man!”  


“Well let’s not dwell on that fucked up topic about you experimenting with bisexuals here, alright. So when are we getting back to the interview here?”


“I don’t fucking know? When this idiot stops bellowing his heart out like a stallion at lost for his mare, how would I fucking know?!”


“Well you bucking damaged this poor guy up. You bucking damaged his wrist, his face – I mean look at the fucking thing! Dimwitted idiot I can’t believe he suffered all those cuts from an old motherfucker like yourself. What ar-”


“Why are you saying buck?! Just say fuck for fuck sakes!” he blurted out as a tactic to let the procrastination take over. 


“Well maybe I don’t want to say fuck all the time, how about that!” she feuded.


“Well maybe you should! It would certainly take that stick out of your ass and you could use it to beat ponies to death with it.” he was totally hazing her to save his own shame.


“I can’t believe I’m still getting the shit treatment from the alcoholic!” she sneered, her forehoof slammed on top of the counter to the right of her that was a mere few feet from the door.


“Hey! That’s pretty low, bro.” Bob said in irritation.


“What?! Low as in the damage you caused onto that poor man, or low as in what I said?” she reasoned with this stubborn cop to see her ways.


“Low as in what you said of course!” he retorted before some figures shadow caught out from the corner of his eye. Some delusional, crazed and clearly madpony that only wanted blood after the crap he just had to endure to not only save his own skin. But to save his opponents skin too. 


“Missy watch out!” he yelled out to her.


Just then Mark Gustavio leaped off the ground on his two hind-legs while his other good arm wielded a cleaver in one forehoof. How he got the cleaver is something no one will ever know.


He lunged forward right into the direction of the mare and within a second and half before, Bob Stooch wrapped his arms around the mare’s waist and threw his whole weight against hers to land on the floor. A big crashing sound erupted with the impact of the ponies crushing throw down. 


Soon backup noises dropped out of all corners as it clamored throughout the room in a monotonous long drone, vibrating through the walls and creases. Before making its way into the main lobby and the storage rooms behind the kitchen. All adding the fuel to the fire was the several small to large utensils and other assorted baking materials that fell off cooking racks, shelves and counter tops.


Gustavio went head first through the door, breaking it open. A loud crack unearthed inside the door as the hinges snapped off the wall with the handle bending downward. Face planted in, his cheeks scrunched into the door while his body fell on top of his good arm. Looking like a drunk that passed out from eating alcohol chocolate filled bars. Unfortunately for Gustavio’s sense of manhood, he wallowed once more in pain at the failure he protruded onto himself.


Bob Stooch was hunched over the female pony, bewildered with the fast-paced events; she took a glance around the scene and only noticed the fallen cooking objects, the broken door and the stallion on top of her. Her eyes veered to the chest hairs on his coat. But not directly that but the warm, alive, pulsating sexual organ that rested comfortably on her kneecap. It was nothing other than Bob Stooch brown penis and ball sack. His slithering yet soft piece of meat with his mounds of pubic hair ruffled back and forth together with her clean cut mint green coat as she shuffled her leg into a better position. His long sheath could feel the twists and turns the mare was pulling. 


Her thoughts whickered as she sighed heavily in both shock and felicity. She clamped the tip of her tongue with her lips and let the saliva roll down off her tongue, into her throat. Her mane had drifted into her eyes but she didn’t care at all.


She sighed once more and the last bits of nicotine trickle up and down her throat while she contemplated the urge of wanting that alive piece of stallion inside of her.


Her merriment mind continued the extravagant thought for another moment. The idea of Mr. Stooch’s shaft rubbing the insides of her before shooting a big wad of luscious cum aroused this mint coated mare to the point that she could literally do this male body right here in the kitchen of a bakery shop.


Taking a few more puffs, she placed one forehoof over the side of Mr. Stooch and unearthed her other forehoof that was stuck behind her back. She then lifted it over the stallions shoulder before taking the second forehoof and applying the same treatment.


Her eyes clocked with her head as she turned to face the stallion. Unfortunately the idea of her straddling the ponies legs into place while she would insert his long vibrating stimulating warm piece of hot meat down her vagina, turning semi-hard to a full on erection. Would be short live as her eyes blinked in unison with the passed out pony on top of her.


The thoughts of letting vivid memories of wet sticky and warm cum leaking out inside of her was cut short to the snoring pony on top of her. No one knew if this moment could’ve happen because by that point she frantically shoved the stallion off her and onto the dirty tattered floor.


Bob Stooch instantly woke up to the wakeup call, and not because of the semi hard-on he was getting nor it wasn't anything to really worry. Because despite his large size and the pent up juices flowing for a piece of sweet wet mare ass. This wouldn't  have been much of an issue with anyone or anything because the job was his main focus. 


With a face of half-embarrassment and half diligence to prove that crazed bakery owner wrong, he slugged himself off the ground and immediately asked if the mare was fine.


She blankly nodded and got on her four hooves dismissively to walk out of the shop – not out of the whole scene, though that did play its role. But out of embarrassment for letting her emotions get the better of her. So what if she craved for a bit of stallion once and a while. She’s just being primitive to her natural instincts as the rest of the ponies across the world were.


He called out for her once more, not out of what had happened during their initial meet over an hour ago. But out of them being perhaps close acquaintances.


“Wait!”


The mare stopped, she huffed a growl before turning her body around to face the stallion.


“Yes?” she scolded with her head kept down during the whole event.


Bob Stooch walked close to her, within a foot of one another. He was about to pat this frail looking mare that looked more weak than what she portrayed earlier.


The mare grudgingly whipped his arm out of her personal space, he sighed and looked into her eyes. She turned her head up for him, a weak smirk quickly appeared before dissipating behind her black-riddled soul.


He struggled to find the words and thus only stuttered as he spoke his mind.


“Listen, err, I mean, I…look missy, I’m sorry about that. But…two questions, okay?”


“Shoot.” she mumbled.


“Did you live in Ponyville?” Bob questioned her.


“That is completing none of your business, Mr. Stooch!”


“I-I-I-I’m, I’m sorry Ms.?”


“Just forget it Mrs. Stooch! Whatever interview we had or are ever going to have is now forever over and done. I hope you have a good day, because we are now through with this shit.”


She stomped her way out of the kitchen and walked through the messing lobby entrance, it was filled with flipped over tables of carnage, loose material scattered around both rooms and a broken down door facing behind the mare’s rump.


She heard the click of the exit door excerpt the noise of freedom, but not before Bob Stooch yelled across the both rooms once more for her last response.


“What’s your name then?” he raised his voice so both can hear one another.


No reply but dark sickness of silence pepped the room into complete, utter darkness. A real Claustraophic feel for both parties.


A littlest yet most determined, focused, sober tone Bob has ever heard since the two first met not so long ago. “Lyra. My name is Lyra.”

> Body To Body, Job To Job: Filth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bob wakes up.


Unaware of the damage he had done to his room, again, he witters back under the covers and hoped for another wishful sleep. Pretending never got him anywhere, so he violently thrusts his arms out and the covers glide over his body, with the ends prickling his face. He snorts and hacks, and immediately coughs up a dark brown gob of spit out his mouth, and into the garbage by his bedside. The bed he never bothers to clean, the bed he promises that he wouldn’t puke in anymore after a midnight binge with alcohol and his many demons. The bed he promised to get new sheets but never has the time to, so he snuggles up in the same stench because he knows that his life is an absolute wreck.


Tempted by whipping up another glass of homemade brew that he, himself, created after confiscating and charging some elder for illegally making moonshine in the first place. He fidgets with his scraggy chin, before placing his forehoof on his right leg and getting rid of that painful itch that had been annoying him since he passed out drunk the night before. He looks at the same battered walls, and the same once-white door that had now turned slightly darker, more yellow after constant smoking on his part; he didn’t mind. No, at least it kept him interested when everything became more or less repetitive in his usual antics. Or lifestyle, the more appropriate term. He tried, no, he, with great strides, tried to understand and comprehend his main goal in all of this. 


He wanted out of Europoniea. “Wanted” was the right word, why did he “want” out? Simple, he could easily suggest. The rabid infected individuals, the whole continent both turned into a martial law state and a corrupt jurisdictional uprising by both, the citizens and the government. You had looters, helpless citizens all scourging for the pot. Topped off by a divided government bent on controlling certain sections of the dystopian land. Than backed by bandits, mercenaries, terrorists, and the stray thug and finally coated with the infected ponies all finely chopped together in the bunch. That is the main reason he wanted out. It’s not like he lacked any potential skills that could help the war-aid, but being alone with his thoughts and staying alive were above his major top priorities in life. Oh, and Royce also. His lug-nut of a friend…


Bob swoops off the smelly bed, deprived of any comfort anymore. He goes on his two back hooves and lets out a sneer as he cracks his back into cop mode. He lands back on the floor, shaking off whatever there was to shake. He walks over to the mirror with kiss marks covering the whole thing, he once stole a women’s crimson dress off a coat hanger in the back of her yard in the middle of the night while he was on shift - while intoxicated, and planted the fine piece of clothing over his long black mirror that rested comfortably on the side of the wall facing the left side of the bed, staying closer to the main door that had patches of holes all around it. The dress was covered with dandelion flowers and the outline was finished with almost lime green tint. Whenever his urges get to him, he often wants to, but ends up chickening out of fucking the piece of glass. Than later gets mad at it, throws an empty bottle of swish along the wall and beats his head against another section of the wall before crying his woes out and falling asleep only to rinse and repeat the next day.


Checking his appearance, everything seemed to appear in order. Slightly scruffy, but not too the point of looking like a poor-hygiene asshole, he wanted to look like a good, well dressed asshole, instead of a dirty one. His lightly browned body looked more or less, good today. Maybe a hot shower could start things up, he grinned. Taken aback, he trots over to the door, finally at two sides of life between his inner self, and his public life, he steps out of his own safety grounds and glances one more time at his piece of shit excuse for a room. His nightstand littered with take out and garbage, alcohol half-full while others remained empty or full. His weapon at the real station while he was just a watch house keeper like his other partner/friend – who slept down the hall from him in a cleaner environment. Wishing he could get rid of those paper-red themed walls, he always said another day. Hoping that day would come far sooner…


“Man, fuck this day of all days.” Bob sounded out, not too loud, but enough that he could hear the echo’s bounce off the wall and ring through his head for the next twelve hours. He walked down the hallway and reached for a towel on the rack beside the bathroom door before heading in. He closed the door quietly, not wanting to wake his friend. He turns the tap on and chucks the towel over the bathroom sink before jumping in. Bob raised the temperature until it was as close as it got to bristling hot, the steel valve already heating, he sat down and gently took a nice hot piss over the shower mat. Royce didn’t care either if he did it or not, Royce just hoped that Bob wouldn’t one day shit in the tub, and boy did he want to several times just to get a scowling reaction from his dear friend. The water would wash the piss away by then, anyways. 


After being done, he jumps out and sits down once more on the cold floor, his ass doesn’t sit well with this he gets up only to place his towel onto the floor so he could sit back down again. He takes a few minutes to himself, not wanting to relive the same day over and over; they had only been here for a few months, but this seemed like hell at its own gate. Sure, there was free liquor, a free bed, shelter, authentic job with his name on it. Even he had a friend with him, but this life seemed more unforgiving than he initially thought. He couldn’t quite place a hoof whether it was the oppressing way this town ran, the high crime rates, the lack of real law enforcement, the fact that the Equestrian force black listed this petty town of a thousand and a half residents. Still, it had its perks. Addiction wise. Mentally, he could master it. Psychically, he could hack it. Emotionally, however, it was becoming to be a toll all on its own. He begun to understand and appreciate the fact of helping ponies, but despite his efforts, the town was a feral mess. Sure, it seemed okay in some areas, but that’s only in some. The latter to him, at least, was in its own spiral of disarray that this job can make a burden on your shoulders. And this seemed to become a hefty burden, if not severe already.


Bob raced back up, wiped himself off quickly, and got outside quickly enough to not let the sudden coldness bring him down. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a loaf of bread with his teeth and slammed it on the table and began tearing into it so he could make toast. Ripping the front open, the little clip that kept it all tugged in got stuck in his tooth, he played around with his tongue in order to un-lodge the plastic piece, popping two pieces of bread into the toaster he set the timer for two and a half, tossing the rest of the loaf aside. He focused on this nagging piece of plastic that didn’t want to budge. Unable to rid of the dreaded thing that had become a bigger problem than expected, he sought his friend who could help him in this situation.


Bob Stooch trampled through the room with one goal in mind, he nudged Royce until his sleepy eyes awoke. “Hey, Rice, cold ya fucking get dis outta me?”


Royce smacked, then coughed, “Huh, buddy?”


“You. Fumper. Fug you and geth dis ting outta me, dammit.” Bob stifled.


Royce shook his head, a little more concerned, “I can’t comprehend you, sir, what is it?”


“Look. Yeller-beller corn-dog.” Straining to make the most coherent voice possible, “Fucking. Get. This. Thing. Out. Off. My. Moutha!” Pointing one hoof at the blasted little plastic blue-clip.


“Oh, sorry boss. I’ll get right on it,” he whisked the blankets off of him and swooned forwards to the side of bed facing Bob, before stuffing his face in front of him, causing Bob to slightly blur his vision he takes a couple steps back and berates the stallion once more.


“She’s stuck hard, hehe, making that’s a good sign, eh-er boss. Maybe we might find a nice mare tonight and show her a good-” Bob slapped the living day-lights out of Royce that suddenly made him jerk violently backwards before tumbling into his dresser door and smashing it through. The piece finally lodged out but with a little bit of blood following it, it must have broken the gum line in his jaw a little if blood started to leak out. Even the little pain was no match for Bob’s roaring belly laughter as he watched his friend shaking his head frantically to try and wrap his head after what just happened. Bob could nearly cry out in tears of joy if he wanted to, and he did. Loads of laughter, tears and a good sense of fun seemed to cloud a wonderful aura over this occasion. Something that neither of them ever get too often when they’re in both of each other’s company. Royce couldn’t laugh it off, though. He wanted to cry in agony because he felt that Bob was making fun of him, and indeed he kind of was. But Royce sucked it up and just went with the flow while Bob continued on making a mockery of him. Eventually Bob had to stop to take a breather and hold himself on a metal bar that appeared on the side of the wall just so he didn’t fall and piss himself again.


“Come on, man. It’s funny, you should lighten up!” Bob fixated himself with another shrieking laughter before attempting to wave over a hoof in good kindness. Royce crudely reaches over and grabs hold of his hard wrist that felt like a brick than a normal wrist should. Despite Bob’s age and his addictions, the guy could pack a mean punch if he felt to do so. Fortunately, he wasn’t much of a threat psychically as he was too himself, instead. 


Bob knew that Royce was going to be in a tough, moody and shitty mood today, but this was all for it. When was the last time Bob ever laughed like a little boy? Royce was a little bigger than Bob. They both glanced at his standard brown closest dresser, the wooden bar above it was split in the middle thanks to Royce’s thick skulled head. The clothes were all down and the coat hangers were also, both empty and not. Royce knew that this was his friend’s fault, not his. He knew it, but being his protector, and guided teacher who taught him almost everything since they were young lads down in the fishing port haling trout, crabs, lobsters, jack fish, whatever the company wanted to process and sell to the market. They went and found it. Europoniea, and other countries ran under different restrictions, while Equestria didn’t condone meat as a viable source of food. Which made ponies like Bob even more pissed, Europoniea did. That was probably the only reason both of them could find in staying there. 


Meat.


Both of them marched out of room, one exhaling between coughs, laughter, while the latter tried tending to his wounds.


That was when the call came through.


Bob reached for the scanner on the tableside with the now cold toast in the kitchen across from it. The scanner could trace whatever calls came through from other departments, there was a couple places, the local hospital, the fire department, the post-office, pretty much anywhere that was government official, and could receive calls providing assistance for whatever location the ponies might be in.


“Help, help, som-” – Citizen stated.


“Excuse me, hello mam, mam, what is the situation?” – Fire department guy, Todd asked.


“My father’s garage! It’s on fire, dammit. Those blasted kids tarnished his place, and now it’s on fire, fuck it’s everywhere. Please, come help, there were three little ones, one filly, and two boys. There was a man they were running from, one of them is still inside the building. I-” – Citizen responded before being cut off.


“Mam, wait there, don’t get too close to the fire, and stay within a safe distance. Where on our way, have you called the paramedics and the local police?” Todd reassured.


“What the fuck do I want the police, for? I said I wanted help, not a pack of hounds, dammit! Now are you coming?” – Citizen fumed, practically sneering into the phone.


“Alright, on our way, well call them then.” Todd said, finally. Exiting off the channel.


Bob grabbed his light brown stray jacket on the crouch and tapped Royce’s right arm to tell him that they need to go.


“I know this garage, Terry Philip’s place. Ugly bastard died a few months back, just after we got here, weeks after. Now come on, we got ponies to save here.”


Royce following him like an idiot, they braced onto the street while their door was left wide open. Bob running effortlessly while his partner struggled immensely. 


Despite what was happening right now, two things didn’t leave his mind. His good too bad to good too awkward conversation with the Lyra chick, and that crucial word he wished he could take back when he left his room, because he now knows that this day is going to become fucking hectic.


Man, fuck this day of all days. 

> Love Of Life: Cop
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on you half-wit, get a move on!” Bob shouted behind his back at his half-dead partner struggling with each step.


Royce breathing was getting more distorted, sounding harsher, he needed a rest. But Bob said otherwise.


They continued running; ponies on sidewalks and inside their homes started noticing the two officers on some zany shenanigans again. Bob, Royce and some of the citizen folks suddenly looking up towards the sky as the fire department Pegasus ponies zoomed right past them in the blink of an eye. The sky turned dark before instantly turning bright again. The clouds were bright and the sun shined through them like hot liquid that glistened the entire valley around the small town. Big patches had no clouds so you could see the open sky, and they were blue as a baby’s bottom. If Bob had been on a day off, if he ever got one, he would most likely spend the day bathing in this warm, succulent weather, drunk out of his mind, without regret. Yeah, he could dream, he could dream big. The sun arched up on the left side of town, leaning towards the middle more. It was close to lunch-hour and this town was sure to be busy with bustling ponies, today.


Bob skimmed past the eye-watching ponies, even verbally telling one to fuck off as the male gradually turned pale and gave a snide remark about his appearance. Royce couldn’t keep up any longer, falling over onto the muddy ground, he exhaled and inhaled very deeply. Two ponies started to get close to see if he needed help, he waved them off and could barely muster a sentence. Saying: “I-I-I…Okay, I’m…fine.” His head dropping back to the ground with a big splat. Bob Stooch wasn’t pleased, he growled Royce’s name under his breath before turning around and running back to him. Sprinting to his half-dead, half beaten friend. Bob purposely kicked a pile of wet, soggy, dirt with his hard as rock hooves unto his friend. Landing all over his eyes, bits of dirt plotted all around his face while a smidge trickled into his right eye while a moderate size of dirt flew into his mouth. Royce swished it around for a sec before spitting it out, he rubbed some of it off his face with his forehooves before shaking the rest of it.


“Bob, what the hell?”


“Blame that on your poor athletics, not me, bucko. Now get up and start sprinting, dammit!” Bob sneered through his teeth.


Getting up, he tagged along with Bob while the ponies around the street just scowled at Bob for putting his friend down.


Bob couldn’t give a flying rats, he had ponies to save. He had ponies counting on his life, he had some semblance of comfort while he thought his life was shit a mere hour earlier. Both gradually picked up the speed on the mud and their tracks showed along the seasonal town of Canterbury; the garage was just near outside of town, facing towards the exit-highway. It had to be at least a two-hour walk but both of them running could make the time essentially shorter. Both trudged through the dirt, ponies were now watching the two cops passing through the streets; sweating, panting, coughing, swearing, badgering and occasionally insulting one another before Bob flips off another random pony. 


Time seem to fly and it looked like they were making minimal progress. The ponies could already be dead, Bob thought. Contemplating, considering maybe they should have thought this through more clearly. It didn’t matter, anyway. Soon, this will all be over and they could finally help some poor ponies at whims with death. They saw the smoke blemishing the un-tainted sky with whatever toxins that lied inside that building. Disdaining its crystal-clear coated blue. Bob picked up the pace with Royce following behind him. 


Finally reaching the building up ahead, Bob slowed down considerably while keeping it to a jog; his muscles tensed. Legs throbbing, chest pounding, head dripping with sweat going down onto his face, his eyes stung and it felt like it was almost as if his eyes were drinking the sweat before it dribbled down inside his skull. The stench was all too much, but he soldiered on. Focusing on the mission.


Royce, however, had already stopped half a mile before, and now he was just struggling to walk. His legs sore, the palm of his hooves practically stuck to his face once he felt his forehead littered with hot mounds of stinky liquid. The semi-fat lug had a lot of trouble carrying forward with the mission. Bob didn’t even care about his friend no longer, all he wanted was those ponies to be safe. Bob was soon in eye view of the place that he could shout out to others that they had arrived. Well, he, alone. That is. 


“Hey! You ponies alright?! I’m here! Need help?” Bob shouted over the flying Pegasus working at top speed as they bombarded the flaming hunk of wood with clouds of cold water. Dousing the place, you could see steam rising off the edges of the building and also out the window, before the fire once again regained lost territory. Bob was amazed at the big ball of flame that encapsulated the entire building. The Pegasus were working hard to maintain the blaze while the mare who called sat on the ground way across the burning building, in the field. Bob snapped back in action and full throttled to the women who sat idly by with her body motioning left and right like a crazy madwomen. Standing over her was another fireman who just swooped down from the sky to quickly check the state of the female. Bob reaches them and immediately questions them about the locals inside the building;


“How long have they been in there?!”


“Bob? Didn’t expect you here, my names Larry, this is Bernice. The mare who called in. I’m guessing you had your scanner when the call went through?” Larry sizing him up while Bob kind of carried on also; focusing on the mission, however, he did keep his eye on him. 


“You called this, buffoon? Are you retarded? Ugh. I didn’t want cops! Especially, oh never mind.”  Bernice grilled the fireman before admitting inevitable defeat.


“Sorry, mam. But look, you were supposed to call them anyways, it’s protocol that we do it if you decline to. It’s the law.” Larry tried easing her, but she only grew tenser.


“Look, missy, I mean, Bernice. I’m here to help, alright? So let me help, and let’s go get those kids.”


“I don’t give a shit about those kids. My father’s business is practically gone. How do you expect me to cope with that? At least were entitled to insurance coverage, because those fucking kids are going to pay if we aren’t.” Bernice scowled back, with spit hitting the sides of Bob’s cheeks.


“You don’t give a shit about kids?” Bob said, coming closer to her that their faces were inches apart. Kneeling down to her, Bob was starting to peel away all the kindness from his heart, and soon things were going to get ugly. Fast.



“Why should I?” Bernice asked, almost insulted by this response from the town drunk.


Bob put his head down momentarily, his mind now cluttered not with his regrets, demons, sorrow, and his several homemade burdens. But now of anger, hatred and a sheer agony of pain that he was going to inflict on this mare if she didn’t shut up.


“You’re as cold as your old man, was.” Bob croaked, stepping back, the heaviness of his breath across Bernice’s face was no more. Only a wicked glare he made surely got both of the pony’s attention, with Larry realizing that this lady had pulled a button off Bob’s stray jacket, and he could only count six in total.


“What do you mean, my father was a good stallion. How dare you interrogate me you pathetic drunk.” Bernice shot back with her own mix of venom and cleverness thrown into the pot.


“Look, Bob,” Larry intervened. “I’m not sure about those kids, hey, look at me. I’m not sure about them, they could be dead for all we know. We haven’t heard a single peep inside that building since we got here. No shouts, no screams, no cries, no nothing. If there was really anything, we could have heard it. For all we know, they could be gone, or…”  Larry stopped, letting them both piece together the last of puzzle.


Bob turned around and simply watched as the building was doused with more cold water. He gently rubbed his nose and sucked up any tears or emotions that were beginning to well up in his eyes, and his soul.


He simply waited, now. Waiting for this to end.


This would not be the end, however. Not even close.


Royce was now close, the thick smoke from the sky appearing closer, the smoke in the air feeling denser, and the way how every pony was suddenly rushing towards the fire also sparked the way that he should be heading. His lungs slightly felt like they were being tightened around his chest with a powerful grip. A brutal knot. The smoke pillowing up so quickly, and quietly. Perhaps, scared him the most.


Bob quietly turned back and simply stood over the mare, who isolated herself once again. Refusing any sort of attention.


“Mam, you’re still going to have to come with me. I need witnesses, leads, anything that could help me solve this case as too what had happened, but for now, it could wait. At least until the building is finished burning, or the firefighters stop it from spreading, that is?” Feeling sort of proud of his adultness towards the situation even though he handled certain cases far worse. Like one time when he was out on a case with the investigation of a dead cat, but during the investigation, mostly in the beginning. He interviewed two suspects that were on the case, hooves were pointed at them by other folks that all were alleging that they were two low-life’s that had a fetish for dead animals. Silly town rumors, he didn’t take it seriously. But showing up drunk and high and smashing one of them in the jawline before wrestling with the second one after they heard the shouting from another room, was probably not the best idea at the time. Royce was interviewing the second one in another room at the far end of the main police station that they were at. When the kicking and screaming started, the pony got off of their chair and since it were a unicorn, they levitated the chair across Royce’s face. Smacking him down on the ground with two broken teeth. The second guy marched in and sucker punched Bob, before he lifted his lower half right back up with a solid hoof. The other pony didn’t go down so easily; taking another and repeating the same tactic but went up in smoke when his other friend finally got back up only to get clobbered at the back of the skull, right in the temple. Still surprised that he didn’t die from it, Bob would occasionally wonder when no one was around.


Bob Stooch then leaped at the pony from across the table into a filing cabinet behind them. Both fell down before Bob got another two punches into his sternum before kicking the pony’s upper left leg and biting his shoulder real hard. Breaking the skin. The pony screamed and bled, but no one was going to hear them because the station was soundproof thanks to the walls around the building, and the windows weren’t much help when half of them were still boarded shut, while others remained closed. The blood seeping through the pony’s cobalt fur, Bob jumped off him and kicked the first guy in the groin before saying that he would charge them with police assault if they didn’t leave.


Royce remained unconscious until Bob later woke him up, they both then went to the local pub and drank themselves silly until Bob blacked out and Royce tried having sex with some stallion, then pissed himself, than slept out on the curb outside the pub. The owner got two of his employee’s to chuck Bob out also, but not before stealing twenty bucks from his smelly jacket. They both woke up the next day reliving the same effects but with a raven shitting on Bob’s head.


After about an hour later, the fire was finally extinguished by the firefighters and their water cannons. Bob waited until he got the all-clear from the chief himself; Randy ‘Lord of the Onion Rings’ Chider. He was always known as a bit of a pig, but a pig with a kind heart, pretty much second rate to Bob in all aspects except for his enormous eating habits and that bulging gut that soon it will either go by diabetes, or imploding in front of his whole unit. Bob didn’t care, he didn’t mind the guy, just loved the way ponies talked about him. He’s was always a bit of sucker for gossip since moving up in Equestria.


He had to wait a little while longer, he asked the mare a couple more questions but was rejected in every light. Larry talked with him for a few moments, he was a bright, young guy, fresh out of college at least. Then, the pony’s from afar hollered out both Bob and Larry’s name.


That was when the crowd of ponies showed up without carrying for consequences, every pony wanted to see the show go up in flames…

> No Code: Do Not Resuscitate
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Bob Stooch and a few of the Pegasus ponies huddled around the non-burning shop and arched their backs up and placed their hooves firmly into the ground. Beating against the sand, the ponies that were running towards the fire stopped dead in their tracks, noticing the police and firefighter’s deep expressions, some cowered back, others continued on, shouting, chanting, and screaming in awe. ‘What the hell happened to these ponies?’ some thought as the sheer blast of ponies was about to immerge with the few stallions and mares that hung proudly together to respect their ranks, and their duty. However, one fled before the storm and another was about to tag along before tripping under another ponies hoof, leading the rest to tumble one after one, Bob fell over a stallion with a mare landing back first into his own. The last thing Bob remembered was the summer scent of their perfume. 


Waking up a long while after, he was being taken by a stretcher into an available room in the local hospital. The quiet conversation by a nurse and two other ponies were all blurry, and hard to hear. He noticed that one was a Pegasus firefighter that he must’ve fell on, or was pushed, or shoved. He couldn’t remember. The other must of have been a local that either came to their senses after the riot assault, or was just one of the few stragglers that didn’t bother on joining the event. The mare said a few more kind replies before brushing them off and returning to her patient, Bob Stooch. The local cop. The sheriff, the local drunk, the local idiot, the local crazed stallion, and the local fighter. The mare nurse uttered a few, bright words of comfort, assuring Bob that he was going to be okay before taking out a little bottle, a medical syringe, and placed her forehoof around the base of the needle, and soon extracted some type of liquid from the bottle, Bob read the brand name and soon smiled softly, his facial expression must have been enough to please his nurse because she smiled back, Bob laid his head back and began to embrace the medicine that he was going to be given. He heard the rustling and fidgeting of the needle being placed into the small, thin, clear tubing only planted together by a cap. The tube sucked up the liquid beautifully. It sprang up to the end of tube, into the vein on his shoulder where the tubing had been attached to, taken aback he could see the nurse had these amazing crystal clear eyes, and this thoughtful smile, and those beautiful teeth that were ever so white he couldn’t quite comprehend on how beautiful were they. She winked slowly and that was enough to give Bob the biggest erection possible, thankfully the hospital bed sheets were thick and loose, not too snug and tight, otherwise she would’ve known the full emotions that were jumping through his entire body. The way her left cheek cracked and lightly jiggled as she gave one last smile of courage before trotting off to some other helpless, lucky, patient was enough to satisfy his life for at least, one day. If not ever again.  


He later woke up, again. This time it was nighttime, and the lights were on at the hospital. Only, then, he saw two nurses reeling a dead patient through the hallways, bloody patches were all the way up to his arm, big fresh ones still, like this only must of happened today, a couple hours earlier. He tried asking to see what was up, but nothing, though he heard the nurse quietly whisper that this was the second one today. “Second, what?” he quietly muttered under his breath. Unsure of how to process this, he wanted to get up and do something about it. The bed was no longer his priority, but this newfound evidence was. Maybe this could help him with his other case that he had to attend to whenever he was feeling ready. As soon as he lifted his head the slightest, the pain came reeling back through his bruised head. He doesn’t know, but something must have hit him hard to put him down and out cold. Otherwise he would’ve murdered the bastard who had done this too him, the burning sensation definitely came from his temple, specifically on the right side. He cursed, and attempted to make a coherent sentence about the hospital ponies being dicks, but instead, ended up sounding like a garbled mess. He wished that there was painkillers to ease his excruciating head trauma, even that drug seemed nice. Some marijuana would kill the pain, that’s for sure. Now he only thought about smacking crown royals down his throat until it burned right through. He slapped his face profusely, without acknowledging the scene he was making if some pony was standing at the doorway. He lied back and let the back of his head sink into the amazing pillows, the drug must have worn off of him, or something. Whatever it was, he sure needed another dosage, possibly two. His head twirled round and round that the room was almost spinning, his breathing became hard, he clenched his fist, his mouth was reusing his saliva to make some sort of homemade drink, sucking it back after and after. The olive color-coated walls split in half with the white finish overlapping it kept him focused on why this was happening, or he would’ve went completely insane. He coughed and wheezed, and punched his chest unmercifully, he couldn’t take it so he shifted around the bed to find the emergency button because he knew there had to be one, as it was standard procedure. Fidgeting around, he didn’t want break or bend his fragile tubing’s that lodged up in his arm and in his nostril. His coughing became more severe, struggling to catch a breath, he looked on both sites thoroughly but couldn’t find any sort of button, nor any different colors on the wall to incent any sort of button. Maybe he was just being delusional again, but he knew that this pain wouldn’t go on much longer, he vomited all over his nice sheets.


That was all that he thought about: Those nice sheets,


Now, things were getting bad, it seemed like his whole body had a sudden change of pace, now it seemed like it was acting the same with his monotonous coughs. Acting out of place, and just in complete shock. He struggled to get this machine that sat beside him that showed his heart meter beeping and he seemed mortified when he saw that it was racing faster than he could comprehend. 179-185-193-201…than he lost balance and focus like all his weight suddenly fell on top of his body, he stopped trying to hold on to the machine before falling off the bed, his upper half sliding off before his lower followed with both meeting each other half-way before impact. He could barely open his eyes, let alone keep them straight. The last thing he could remember was what appeared to be a doctor, and a nurse ran through the room to help him when he passed out. 

> Big Strong Boss: Weakling
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

8 days after Bob's accident, and 21 hours since full-scale outbreak infection impact.

“Shut your fucking trap, mickey. The shit hasn’t hit the fan, yet.” 


Walsh sneered through his yellow teeth as he slapped his partner into control.


“Walsh, this is fucked, alright?! I’m not going any further, there is some danger shit down that tunnel, and you can’t make me go!” 


“Oh, you’ll fucking go when I tell you to. You damn scared cat.” Walsh repeated once more, though both hadn’t actually heard them at all since they first got in the underground tunnels. Those monsters were there, and they knew that they’re eyes were watching. Waiting to whittle the two away so they could bring them down.


“Look at the situation, man! The town here is gone to shit, and were the closet unit that could back them up, I mean fuck?! That’s crazy! I never seen crazy ponies like this. Not. At. Fucking. All, alright?! You’re telling me that we could just mosey on in and kill them, all?!” Mickey tried his best to reason with the senior officer, he really did, and he knew that this was no ordinary case of police work. This was some deep shit that they got caught themselves in.


“Look, Mickey. I know that tunnel is pitch black, and all we got are flashlights that these bastards could obviously see…I mean, but – look you fucking buffoon. It’s our job to protect the bloody civilians, and we will fucking do so, got it!”



“This. Is. Suicidal.” Mickey quickly retorted.



“It’s suicidal, but we all knew what we signed up for.” Walsh’s voice was gruff, in tone with the situation, his voice didn’t crack once. Though he was very close to breaking and cowering like his friend, he continued to think about the mission.



“Signed up for an army of crazy ponies feeding on others?! Boss, you have me very confused, here.”

“What would you have me, do? Write up a report, send it off to the commission of the Equestrian police force and wait for feedback when we both know that it will do shit all because everywhere in Equestria is starting to suffer the same rut as this sorry ass town? Because, if you do – fucking enlighten me.”


“Then, we blame Europoiean for this shit. I mean, they first started it. You heard the reports, it was on the whole continent! Blame them for not controlling their sickness, blame them for starting a plague that has now reached here.” Mickey refuted, controlling his timid voice, and his nervous temper. He knew that he was scared shitless, but he knew that venturing down here to find and exterminate whatever infected was here would only get themselves killed.


“You think I don’t know? You think I never heard the reports, either? Fuck that place, dammit. Alright? We got a job to focus here, look, there was us – two others stationed officers, and five other officers dispatched from Fort. Smithson. Look, Mickey, those officers were fucking dumb, alright? I mean, what the Tartarus were they good, for? We know two from that unit came down here when we all fucking bolted out of the hospital, right?”


“Right.”


“Right, so the chief in St. Davison told us, that we need whatever officer there because the backup from other locations won’t be here for at least a day. Now I know why he sounded shaken on the phone, this is serious shit, Mickey. I won’t lie, I never, never seen this type of violence, and you might be right about that Euro theory. But fucking pull your head together, alright?”

“You’re not understanding the part about being here, though. In this fucking dungeon, in this fucking dark cave, this fucking tunnel. I can’t stand it.”


Walsh shook his head, and breathed heavily, rubbing his face with his forehoof, he collected his thoughts together and restated once more, with discretion.


“You don’t understand why we’re here, though! We have to keep everybody alive. At least the majority, and all the officers that gathered together fucking ran off in some other direction when the shit hit the fan. And these two were the only ones I flippin’ saw, alright?”


“But-”


“Not the drunk cop, not the retard, not the fanatics out of Fort. Smithson, alright! Especially not that fucking twat who always has this insecurity about licking ponies! I just followed the two cops that retreated here.”


“Wait, what’s that noise?” Mickey quickly ducked down, placing the palm of his forehoof over his flashlight.


“Shit.” Walsh followed, both coward to the far corner of the long dark tunnel, hiding behind a couple crates with a blue tarp half draped over them.


The infected made a few snapping noises with its jaw, hitting things left and right, it trotted its way to the most accessible noise in the area. Then, a big crack from its jaw sent a jolt up the two pony’s spine. Frightened out of their fucking minds, they kept their mouths shut.  


It then made this chitter noise as it bumped into more objects laced around the dark area. Not carrying what it did as long as it hunted its prey. The two ponies got a better look at it, from what they could tell. Its clothes had been torn apart from the chest up, and its jaw was slightly disfigured. Maybe that big crack they heard just moments earlier. One thing was for sure, though. Blood, well, dried up blood streamed down the side of its face, facing the left. And a couple large chunks were taken out of it, most noticeable around the eye.


This was enough to give these two ponies nightmares for the rest of their days.


Walsh made the involuntary move of slipping behind Mickey while he didn’t notice, and instead tripped over his hoof and falling on the right side of his body, bruising his shoulder as it slammed into a couple more crates which led them to fall on the other side of their position.


That was enough to perk the infected ear’s upright as it soon lunged its way towards the ponies. Walsh screamed as he tried use his horn to chuck a crate at the monster, which managed to clip the side of its shoulder ironically, before toppling over the two scrambling ponies. It managed to dig its teeth into one of the fidgeting ponies, who in return screamed in sheer pain as it dug right into his leg and shook it’s head around with the teeth munching and chomping down every little bit of his flesh.


More things crashed, some noises of a pony belting another appeared but it soon died down and you could only hear one replying “I’m sorry,” repeatedly while the other simply cried and cursed at the failure of not completing the mission, but also not saving his friend.