Bad Things Are Bad
It's been a long day, and you’re so done with liking things
That bush you saw over there? Fuck that bush. You like shrubs better. Oh, and that table? Man, what the fuck is with people making tables out of metal nowadays? Wood or GTFO. This stuff under your feet… wait is this gravel? Oh hell no, fuck that stuff, why is everyone always making gravel roads? Don’t they know ponies, and more importantly you, are sick of it? Where’s the asphalt??
You let out a heavy sigh. Why doesn’t everyone just make things that you enjoy, instead of all this other stuff targeted to totally different people? I mean, you’re the only person in a world of ponies, things should cater to you! You'd fix it yourself, but that's totally not your job, and they should know that by now. Grumbling to yourself about the unfairness of life, you scan the street for more things to dislike.
To your surprise, you almost immediately see something that makes you feel like rage quitting life. It’s a strange little pony, with a red mane and tail and a busy, ugly, cutie mark that has a crappy color pallet that doesn’t relate to her character at all.
Ugh. Typical.
“Hey” you shout gruffly, and the little filly turns.
Even the way she smiles is vaguely upsetting. It emphasizes her freckles, a totally unnecessary accessory when creating a pony, especially a young one. Why not just give her chest floof, socks, and eye makeup and call it an OC and be done with it? Jeeze, some artists…
“Well hi there Anon!” she says brightly, with a thick drawl. “I was just-”
You push your index finger hard into her mouth, until her lips look like a tiny yellow sphincter. Only then does she stop omitting noise.
“I’m going to stop you right there,” you say coldly. “I mean. What are you doing? What do you think you are fucking doing walking around, talking with that horrible annoying accent anyway? It’s 2017, bitch, no one likes country bumpkin lolis anymore. Update yourself with the times if you want people to give a shit about you, don’t try to be so special. Also, your front feet are poorly drawn, just so you know. Where are the joints? Half the time you look like a horse, half the time you’re some sort of furry abomination. Try redlining that shit more often!”
You could stop here, but you’re not done. Not by a long shot.
“Also, you really need to work on how you interact with your world and storyline like an actual fucking person. The way you prattle on and whine now, it’s just utterly unlikable. Half the time, you’re just here for comic relief! I mean, do you think someone like me would ever like a pony like you, if you look, act, sound, and are drawn like this? Grow up, and for the love of god, pick a different cutie mark, this one is a total let down. Don’t you want to be liked?”
Her smile never wavers for an instant. Instead, she mumbles something enthusiastically behind your finger, and you uncork her anus mouth so she can speak more clearly.
“Wull I always thought you liked ponies like Miss Cheerilee!” she chirps like an inbred redneck bird.
You let out a groan and roll your eyes.
“Oh. Come. ON.” you moan in distaste. “The last thing we need is another awful Cheerily-Anon romance. All of these things, all of it..."
You gesture emphatically at the world.
"It all fucking sucks!"
The poorly-characterized little filly tilts her head questioningly at you.
“So…that’s something you don’t like, then?” she asks haltingly. "You don't like thing?"
You shake your head.
“Nope!” you declare loudly. “I don’t like thing!”
All at once, there’s a burst of starlight and sunshine from over your head. It’s enough to make you jump, but not enough for you to get emotionally invested with what’s going on. Instead, you reach up with one hand to shade your eyes from the brilliance above you. Swirls and rays of soft, rainbow light shimmer all around you.
It’s…it’s beautiful! A little flashy and deus-ex, but pretty nonetheless.
From this glowing radiance descends a brilliant white horse, that looks like it’s supposed to be all cool and slender and maybe sexy, but god who would market horses as sex objects, that’s just sick. As you study her further, you notice that she looks like some all-powerful Mary Sue. Rainbow mane always in motion, oversized wings, a painfully long horn, and eyes the size and kind which anime girls would be jealous of. It's even wearing a crown that would definitely fall off if it was on a real horse! If you’re being honest, it’s a pretty terrible design, and her spaghetti legs she keeps tucked under her don’t look like they’d ever support her weight. So you stand there, blinking up into her glory like an ant criticizing the magnifying glass in the hands of a child.
“So Anon,” you hear her boom out, voice too bold and simple to show any real character. “I hear you do not like thing?”
“Th-that’s right,” you stutter out “I do not like thing.”
She descends to you, and you see she is holding a small purple and green dragon between her large flat horse teeth. The little creature is smiling dumbly, like it’s one of those children that has a brain stem and nothing else.
Then, abruptly, the comatose dragon baby opens its mouth and gives a loud belching, vomiting noise. It’s body convulses, forked tongue out, and it’s neck cranes far forward in the hovering horse’s grasp. But still, somehow, it’s smiling the whole while. From this confusing series of noises and actions, a scroll appears with a flash of nonsense, exposition, and green fire, a rolled scroll appears. It floats down to your hand, and you wince as the creepily warm paper meets your bare skin. Then the OP pony and dragon vanish in a final, rushed, and illogical burst of light, just as they had arrived, and you’re again left alone with the badly-designed filly.
“Wow Anon,” she says brightly. “That sure is somethin’ special! What’s it say?”
But you’re mostly ignoring her in favor of your own thoughts. For the first time in a long time, you feel you’re genuinely emotionally invested in something. You’re the center of attention, this note is just for you, there’s suspense, there’s drama, and even though it all feels insanely rushed and pandering, you can’t help but be drawn in. What will this note say? Obviously it has to do with you not liking thing, but which thing? Is it the badly done romance relationship that could involve you and Cheerilee? Will it explain why this little southern pony is so shit? Will it fix this whole fad of metal tables? Really, this could say anything!
You don’t know this big white horse, but the way she was designed says that her opinions and thoughts probably matter here. So she’s going to tell you something, something important! You don’t like thing, and this is her direct response!
“Oh great white horse creature and tiny purple burping gecko,” you say reverently. “You have heard my complaints, and know I am right. You have heard me say that I do not like thing. Oh pale princess, what say you to my not liking thing?”
You unroll the scroll with shaking hands and read the one, simple, emotionally impactful word written there:
OK
You never complained again. At least not out loud.
-End-