Fluttershy is Karl Pilkington

by Double Barrel

First published

Fluttershy becomes enamored with the fine art of whinging.

For some inexplicable reason, the element of kindness has found herself infused with the spirit of a bald, Mancunian tosser.

That’s weird, innit?

View Online

Day One: Mancshy

Canterlot High has had its fair share of weirdness. Not many can say they’ve been brainwashed by a maniacal succubus, or seen a group of teenagers literally blast three singing monsters out of the sky with their sick tunes.

There never was any sensible reason for the weirdness. Principle Celestia would not come up to the stage and provide a sound, scientific explanation as to why some of their students had magical reality-bending abilities. No sir, you were to attend school as required the very next morning, hoping to god you can have just one normal Friday.

Yet, in the long run, all of it seemed pretty normal. Sure, it didn’t really make sense, but there always seemed to be a recurring pattern. That whenever a demonic force wound up terrorizing their school, the six brave heroes would be there to save the day.

Today was not one of those days. Because a terrible spirit had infected one of those heroes. Someone whose name cannot and shall not be uttered. Someone who shakes the very core of even the hardest men. All that can be said is he’s got a head like a fucking orange.

“Alrite”

The girls stared slack-jawed at their animal loving friend. It was lunch time, and the day had gone just as planned, surprisingly. No property damage had been incurred on any of the premises in the last ten minutes (save for Trixie bumping into anything she laid eyes on), and even Twilight was beginning to let herself go. ‘Maybe things will finally go back to normal’, she thought, relaxing into her seat.

That is of course, until Fluttershy sat down. She ate her usual meal, a salad with a burger on the side. She even had that bonus apple she always brought, for extra nutrition. It was classic Flutters, and so she was very perplexed to see all her friends looking at her like she’d just killed the president.

But of course, there was good reason. She had the most gimp face of any creature any of them had ever seen. Her head was round, perfectly spherical. It was like you’d inflated a balloon half-way and drawn the most simple face possible. No light shone from behind her eyes. What you saw, was what you got.

“Uh, Fluttershy...” spoke up Rainbow Dash, amongst the deathly silence, “Have you... is there... something different about you? I don’t know, it’s just... you seem...”

Fluttershy furrowed her brow and finally dropped the fork in her salad. Today has been nothing but pent up annoyance, and she couldn’t wait to let it all out.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” a thick Manchester accent wailed, “I come here, right, and you’re all treating me like I’m some sort of alien. I’m yer friend, so can you stop, like, slagging me off and just tell me what’s up?”

If they weren’t put off by the looks, then the voice did the job. Another short silence followed, before Applejack reluctantly leant forward.

“Look, sugarcube, it’s just that we all noticed you’re acting a bit strange. As your friends, we noticed that you look different. A lot different. And ya sound weird, too...”

“Look, it doesn’t matter, right?” Fluttershy retorted, “Let’s just get on with our meals.”

Bare-bones conversation ensued, before the bell rang, to the relief of everyone.

As Applejack walked to class, Rainbow followed close.

“I don’t know what’s up with her, but maybe we’ll find out soon,” said Rainbow.

“I hope so. I just don’t know what in tarnation could be the cause of this.”

Day Two: Rarity-Gervais and Twilight-Merchant

Lunch time, yet again. Fluttershy had been saddened by the lack of camaraderie felt between her and her friends the day before. So she came up with a plan. To share a little story...

“So there was this monkey, right? I think it happened in Amareica...”

“You think?” Spoke up Rarity.

“Let her continue, let her continue,” interjected Twilight, who seemed more gangly than usual.

“Anyways, so yeah... little chimp in Amareica, wandering about an’ that, minding his own business. But he finds out, right, that the zookeeper has left his gate open.”

Rarity sighed heavily, “Yeah, you know, as you do.”

Fluttershy continued, ignoring the remark, “So anyway, yeah... zookeeper left the gate open, little monkey walks out, and finds that he dropped his library card.”

“Ooh, interesting,” said Twilight.

“So, the chimp, goes and wanders about the streets an’ that-“

“Woah-woah-woah, hold on,” cut Rarity, “So nobody noticed the little chimp fella walking about ’the streets an’ that’ holding a library card, did they? You’re a buffoon,”

“No, let her continue, I’m really... I’m quite interested,” defended Twilight.

Rarity sighed heavily once more, glancing at her friends’ horrified faces. Why had two more of their best friends changed so rapidly?

“No, because it was at night an’ that, so not many people were about. Anyways, so the little chimp’s wandering about, with his library card, and stumbles into a library-“

“Alright... no... this is such shi— I can’t believe this. So you’re telling me that the monkey knew he was stumbling into a library did he? Or that he just happened to walk into one? Why didn’t he stumble into a hospital?”

“Alrite...” Fluttershy looked over to Twilight, handing her a newspaper with the story on it, “that’s from that ‘Hananova’ website, you know, trusted news site an’ that.”

“Just get on with the story,” spoke Rarity, through her fingers as her hands were firmly planted on her face.

“So basically, right, the monkey goes into the library, picks up a book of physics. Ends up reading it all, and uh... wins a Nobel Prize.”

Rarity and Twilight stared aghast at each other, before Rarity let out bellowing laughter, her chins flabbing against each other due to her newfound weight.

“Oh,” she wiped a tear from her eye, “oh, you are such an idiot, play a record.”

Day Three: The Manc-ening

Alrite, so this is chapter three an’ that. Yeah, so basically it turns out everyone’s Karl an’ that.

“Alright,” said the smart one, “I like books an’ that.”

So basically, right, then her friend comes up and says, “Alrite, havin’ a good day an’ that.”

Anyway the moral of the story is— Ah, I can’t be bothered.