> Kim Possible: A Sitch in Equestria
>  by Good Christian Ethesto
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prolapsing Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kim Possible was an ordinary, human, teenage girl. She liked kissing boys, and she also liked being the captain of the cheer-leading team. However, today she was doing neither of those things, and was instead laying horizontally on the cool porcelain tiles of the bathroom floor, contemplating how unfair it is that we eat birds. 	

"They don't even deserve it," she rebuked her kind, knowing full-well that they absolutely did. "They don't even taste that good," Kim continued, but it simply wasn't Possible to lie to herself. 

It was during this moment of reflection that her pager went off, sounding kinda like beep beep beep-beep. With teenage-girl-like reflexes, and the grace of a dolphin, she tossed the pager into the air, and jettisoned a stream of piss straight up out of her butt because that's where girls pee out of, hitting the call button, or whatever's on pagers because I've never used one before. 	

"What's the sitch?" Kim demanded as the device twirled magnificently through the air and landed perfectly in her pedicured hand. 

Cory, from Cory in the House showed up on the screen, and responded promptly, "Hey, it's Wade! Dr. Drakken is in the center of the Earth or something and he's probably doing evil science things so you'd better go stop him." 

"Who are you talking to?" came another voice from behind 'Wade', causing him to flinch as this new figure showed up on the screen.

"Is that?!" Kim started, choking on a shocked gasp that was likely just heartburn from all the birds she'd eaten earlier. 

"I am the President of the United States!" The figure exclaimed, dabbing to show off how cool he is. 

"Wade panicked, turning off the call immediately after that with a 'gotta blast'," said Cory, as he cut the line. 

"Wow," Kim wowed, "talk about top ten anime plot twists!" (Audience Laughter). She'd heard all she needed to, and within a minute she was adequately dressed in slutty, teenage-girl clothes. "Now to collect my things and be on my way."



	

Meanwhile, at Ron's house. 

Ron Stoppable was laying on the white-glossed 6 x 6 inch tiles of the bathroom floor, which had 1/8th inch gaps that were grouted with bright white TEC unsanded grout, and finished with grout sealer, absentmindedly peeing straight up. "Boy, I sure hope that dumb bitch doesn't come by and press gang me into saving the world again. I still have a hernia from when we went to Africa, and probably Aids too," he explained. However, it wasn't in the cards, not for him, and Kim Possible burst through the window, raining glass shards everywhere.

"Stop peeing blood and get ready to Journey to the Center of the Earth," she chastised. "Also, where's your pet rat?"

Ron had indeed started peeing blood, an effect caused by the glass shard lodged in the tip of his dick, but he stopped anyway because he was a man child and did whatever Kim told him to do like a little bitch. Also his jokes aren't funny. He pointed one finger in the air, taking on the aire of an intellectual as he explained to Kim not for the first time the error in her thinking. 

"Rufus is not a rat. He's a NAKED MOLE RAT, you fucking moronic imbecile. You're a cretin. Your brain probably lacks whatever evolutionary trait allowed neanderthals to crawl their way up from the mud, or at the very least has far too many chromosomes, you leaf-loving, bush-burping, stem-smelling, garden-gorging, plant-popping, tree-tasting, dirt-devouring beast. REEEEE!" is what he would have said was he not a little shit. Instead he nodded and hobbled off to his room to grab Rufus. 





An indeterminate amount of time later, a massive drill crashed through the dome-ceiling of Dr. Drakken's center-of-the-Earth base, and Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, and Rufus stepped out, waving at their driver. "Thanks for getting us to the center of the Earth, Hitler," Kim gushed, feeling her womanhood roil with vital goo as he turned and gave her a reply. 

"Oh, it's the least I could do after you helped me gas the Jews," Hitler explained, before reversing his drill and undrilling his way back to the surface, sealing the hole in the process. 

"Woah Jeez, what are you guys doing here?" asked Dr. Drakken from across the room. "I built my secret, evil base in the middle of the Earth so no one would bother me!" 

"Your reign of terror ends here, Drakken!" she exclaimed, taking up a fighting stance. 

"What, but you don't even know what I'm doing yet," he started, only for her to walk across the room and Kick him right in the nuts. Wow, Ron was right. What a bitch!

"I don't give a hecking heck what you're doing, I'm just gonna stop you and be back in time for dinner because I'm an ordinary girl and I need to finish my studies and be in bed by 8 'o clock sharp."

Thankfully, Dr. Drakken had surgically removed his testicles weeks ago, so there was no real harm done, and he was able to begin explaining his evil plan unhindered. "I made an evil portal to another dimension, and I put a bomb in it!" He cackled maniacally, rubbing his hands together and revealing his Jew heritage. 

"And?" Kim prompted, but Dr. Drakken was finished. That was basically it.

"This is just like that time we went back in time," Ron informed, but it really wasn't.

"Shut up Ron," Kim Possible threatened, smacking him upside the head. Secretly, he liked the abuse. 

She looked back to Dr. Drakken, who seemed a little confused. "That's pretty much it. The evil portal is in Shego's ass." They looked over to where Shego was bound to the table, her anus glowing with otherworldly light, and Kim averted her gaze in clear discomfort. Girls can't love other girls. That's forbidden love.

"This isn't comfortable for me either," Shego complained. Wow, what a bitch! "And I'd appreciate it if you'd deactivate this thing before it goes off." She really didn't want to think of what would happen if it detonated, what with the portal being in her pooper and all. 

"Talk about an assinine place to put a portal," Ron exclaimed. 

Kim shook her head, "You know, who really cares if a bomb goes off in another dimension? It doesn't effect us after all." She really didn't want to disarm a bomb in Shego's ass.

"Well I guess if you're too chicken you can just go," said Dr. Drakken as he motioned towards the exit door that lead directly into the mantle.

Now he'd gone and done it! "What'd you say?!" Kim demanded.

"I called you a chicken, cheep cheep cheep!" Drakken began to dance around, only for Kim to do a flying somersault kick that crushed his head like a watermelon on the beach. 

"How dare you? Every day, thousands of birds are eaten, abused, and neglected, and they're crying out for help. Hi, I'm Sarah Mclachlin, will you be an angel for a bird? Please, call the number on your screen, and join the BC SPCA with a monthly gift right now. For just sixteen dollars a month, (only 60 cents a day,) you’ll help rescue birds from their abusers, and provide medical care, food, shelter and love. Call or join online in the next thirty minutes and you’ll receive this welcome kit with the photo of a chicken in a burrito right now. One that has been given a second chance. Thanks to you. Right now there’s a bird who needs you. Your call says ‘I’m here to help.’ Please call right now," said Kim.

"Well, I guess we have to do something about that bomb now. Momma didn't raise no chicken," she continued, standing on Drakken's desecrated corpse with a pensive look. "But it's way too small to fit through, and there's no way I'm reaching my arms in there. Do you have any plans, Ron?"

Did he ever! "Do I ever!" He exclaimed. 

"Do you?" She asked.

"Do I!" He replied.

"Do you?" She asked.

"Do I!" He replied.

"Do you?" She asked.

"Do I!" He replied.

"Hurry up," Shego cut in, pretty ass-blasted by their obnoxious conversation. But not as ass-blasted as she's gonna be xDDD. 

Ron Stoppable reached into his pants and procured Rufus, his flabby, fur-less abomination,  who'd been napping comfortably in his unshaven pubes. "This is the moment we've been training for, buddy!" He then produced a plastic tube out of his pocket with his other hand. 

Rufus' eyes lit up with an inner fire that Kim had never seen before, as Ron elegantly C-stepped his way up to Shego, completely bypassing her Dm's as he slipped one end of the tube directly into her already-gaping asshole. Secretly, Shego had always wanted this, but she was simply too shy to let Ron know her true feelings. Plus she's a cuck queen so her other fetish is having her nemesis, Kim Possible, steal her love interest. 	

"Just like we practiced, little buddy," Ron whispered to his sweet, little rat as he slipped him into the tube. "Get in there and disarm that bomb."

Rufus gave a dutiful salute, before turning around and sliding through the dimensional portal into lands unknown.

Inside Shego's ass, Rufus found himself beset on all sides by a twisted combination of evil machinery and bright green rectum flesh. He had barely a moment for his filthy rat brain to form something some people might consider a "thought" (or in Shego's case thot xD) before his entire body succumbed to what felt like a mighty tractor beam. He used his plague-caked buckteeth to desperately attempt some sort of self-rescue. His massive incisors ripped into Shego's roiling, radioactive assmeat like scissors through construction paper, prompting both a jet of shitty blood to squirt from the new inner asshole directly into Rufus' eyes, as well as a hearty moan from Shego. The jet of assblood served to dislodge Rufus from the colon crevice he'd created, blasting him deeper into the ass with the relative force of a prison hose. 

Rufus let out his trademark babbling squeals as he sailed deeper into Shego's rectal canal, straight towards the source of the suction; a gaping void of blazing nothingness that enveloped the surrounding walls in both darkness and light, ebbing across the wet flesh like shadow puppets across a tent wall. Paradoxical as it seemed, to Rufus it was as though he were staring into the sun, yet also into the blackest void. the light around the vortex warped, causing the hole to bulge on either side.

It was shaped like an ass.

The perfect ass.
> An Egg in the Hoof is Worth Two in the Anus
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fluttershy frolicked unabashedly through the field of knee-high grass, the brisk mid-morning air filling her lungs and imparting a sort of vigor only a yellow horse could know. As she made her way through this verdant, green valley towards the forest where her animal friends called home, she was blissfully unaware of the void lightning that danced in great scything bolts from her uncovered anus, annihilating anything caught in its deadly grasp. A family of deer, out foraging, filling their bellies to distension with nutritious green goo met a tragic end as she farted a particularly rancid bolt in their direction, disintegrating their torsos and leaving steamed legs standing at attention, stiff with the quick work of rigor mortis. The ravens may not be feasting on eyeballs and entrails today, but feast they shall. 

As Fluttershy continued along, she began humming a tune to herself, unaware of the cataclysm she left in her wake. It was only when her tummy rumbled that she first noted something was wrong. "Oh no," she whispered, "my tummy is all-a-rumbly." As if we didn't already know that... Thanks a lot Fluttershy... NOT!

Then, suddenly, she started to feel cramping as the rumbling got worse, her wormhole-esque anus prolapsing with built-up energon, releasing a shock wave that killed every bird in a 2 mile radius.

The metaphysical goatse that gurgled frothily in her tiny tummy sputtered and fizzled out, the lightning pulses becoming less erratic and far-spread before fizzling into mere wisps of vapor, which Fluttershy expelled as a pleasant fart. Then, in less time than it takes for a neuron to fire, Fluttershy's anus was warped and ripped by a piercing blue pillar of unfathomably bright light. The beam pierced the clouds, vaporizing a flock of young pegasi. One onlooker rolled his eyes, folded his forelegs, and sighed.

"A blue lazer in the sky? Real original, Zach Snyder," he moaned as the heat that radiated from the pillar of energy boiled his skin beneath his fur.

Meanwhile, back on the ground, the rest of Fluttershy's decrepit husk was slowly being eaten away by the monstrous display of cosmic power that rocketed from her ass. Strip after strip of flesh floated up into the light, where it was eventually blasted into nothing as her previously-yellow fur was roasted golden brown, then pulverized into ash, and finally atomized until it was effectively nothing. Her organs, by contrast, spiraled up into the clouds as they were rent from her corpse, sailing to Cloudsdale where the low air-pressure allowed them to balloon and explode all over the pegasi that had gathered like moths. This resulted in countless onlookers being coated in melted organ meat that felt akin to napalm.

Finally, her delicate skull rocketed to the top of the spire, crackling as the heat caused the bone to burn and expand. With a great "POP" it exploded, sending blazing brain, skull, and hair hurtling across the sky in all directions. Finally the tower of blinding doom dissipated, leaving nothing in its place but a few pieces of singed pink hair, and a naked mole rat, which is immune to cancer by the way.

Rufus stood still, his feet on solid ground for the first time in what felt like forever, or perhaps even 5ever, anxiously counting the moments as his corneas painstakingly undid the potentially-permanent retinal damage caused by staring unfaltering into such bright lights. After maybe seconds, or maybe decades, but probably minutes, the light dissipated, allowing him to see a scorched, desecrated wasteland. The ground around him was twisted and burnt like a tissue after I've finished cumming on it, and the sky had the distinct smell of formaldehyde, acrolein, propionaldehyde, butyraldehyde, acetaldehyde, and furfural- or wood smoke in case you're a fucking idiot. 

"Perplexing," Rufus ruminated to himself, "perhaps I'm too late to stop the bomb? Perhaps I tarried too long on my unabated trip through the void? Or perhaps that trip spinning through the void simply killed me, sending my eternally-damned soul to its rightful seat in hell." After the atrocities he'd committed in Vietnam, he knew this day would come eventually. "I can still hear the screams..." He trailed off while rolling his eyes in his head like an old man rolling on his way home to play 10 -or to give a dog a bone- making a perception check against the surrounding area. {14} (with a +2 modifier) Success (13+)! Rufus noted that the desolation extended only a few hundred feet before terminating in fresh vegetation. 

"Outstandingly intriguinizing!" he screamed at the top of his taller-than-average lungs, combining two key words into one significantly-more key word. "Perhaps there is still life in this old saggy body yet! More intriguinizing, Dr. Drakken's crazy invention must have worked! At the very least I've been transported a very long way," he mumbled to himself, his speech spilling between the folded pink rags of his wrinkled gob with a heavy lisp due to his gaping, buck-ass teeth (not literally ass teeth, it's just an expression. Calm down.), making him sound like a bumbling moron. 

He looked back, noting that the portal that deposited him was nowhere to be seen. "It would seen the only way is forward, then. I suppose if that bomb is still here after all, it's my duty as the hero and good guy to devote my VAST intellect to finding it." He briefly studied the sun, noting its relative trajectory through the sky as well as that it appeared to be a brightly-glowing baby head, and turned to travel East reasoning it was as good a direction as any. He walked, the flopping flesh pockets on his underarms and back swaying rhythmically with each step, creating a swirling current of air, ultimately resulting in a series of tiny pops as his tail wind stabilized into a sort of jet stream, allowing him to glide above the ground at an incredible speed. 

Within moments, he has arrived at the edge of the burnt wreckage, scorched foliage jutting randomly from the ground and forcing him to slow to a near-halt. On approach, he was confronted by the pained wails of the dead and dying. Thousands of forest creatures; blinded and badly burnt, bunnies brutally butchered by the blaze, bucks belatedly bleating for Bambi, barbecued bears bonded to brisket-like badgers. It was enough to remind him he hadn't yet had breakfast. He sauntered over to a partially-cooked bunny, the canyon-like folds of his flesh rubbing together and occasionally releasing small bubbles of trapped air, wonderfully reeking of years of BO. This particular bunny would likely survive the wounds as they were fairly minor, though it seemed to be in a great deal of pain. 

"Uh, is someone there?" she asked, in a voice little more than a timid squeak. "Reveal yourself, stranger." 

Rufus approached, breathing heavily from his brief bout of flight. "Shhhh... it's gonna be alright... little guy," he cooed between breaths, putting a single claw on the bunny's nose in a friendly gesture. I might mention that Rufus was far larger than this bunny, dis-proportionally sized from what he was used to. "You're gonna be okay," he reassured.

The bunny looked up at him, white eyes showing that she'd been in a bad spot when the detonation happened. "W-what's that mister? I couldn't understand a single thing ya dun said through that retarded lisp," she wheezed out, "I-I can't see nuthin'. I'm so scared..." A few tears rolled from the corners of her perfectly-rectangular eyes. 

"No need to worry," Rufus lied as he reached around to the scruff of her neck, "everything's gonna be just fine." As the bunny sat shaking in his arms, a puff of steam percolated from the corners of his mouth, catapulting a rocket of greasy saliva into the bunny's face, and with a bone-rattling click, his jaw unhinged. Said jaw slowly sank, the wrinkled pinkish skin of his face sagging to keep up with it, stretching like rubber as he opened his mouth a full 200 degrees in an impressive mockery of a particularly dexterous(or should I say denterous?) hippopotamus. His 8-inch long, hepatitis-filled, hollow fangs glistened in the morning sun, little drops of necrotizing venom forming on the tips as he held them aloft like an executioner's axe. 

"Say mister," the bunny gasped out, blissfully unaware of the impending peril, "do you think there's a heaven?" Rufus spent a few heartbeats contemplating this query, before coming to an unfortunate truth. 

As he drove his fangs deep into her body, she spasmed, fighting back only slightly as he overpowered her weakened form, gallons and gallons of toxins spilling from his fangs and rushing through her blood stream like an army of giant, radioactive rubber pants, dissolving her innards as she gasped out the remaining air in her dissolving lungs. 

Through his mouthful of bunny fur, Rufus gave his answer. "Not for you..." Within moments, she had dissolved into a viscous red soup, which he eagerly lapped up with an unholy vigor. 

One beady-eyed onlooker, a pegasus who lay just outside the heat radius of the beacon of blue oblivion that had slain his friends and family just moments before, crawled desperately away from this new monster that seemingly spawned from the killer cliche. Rufus was, of course miles below the cloudscape, but this on-looker's cutie mark was a pair of eyes so I assume he has at least above-average vision. There was only one thing on this poor minor character's mind as he clambered his way through the bumpy cloud terrain, leaving the piles of half-disintegrated ponies, and dying thirds-of-ponies in his wake.

 I've got to find a main character! 

Hours passed as he crawled, before he realized he only had a fucked up wing, and his legs were just fine; he'd been crawling for no reason, wasting precious time. Haggardly, he sprang to his feet, cringing at the pain of his weird burnt wing that he has. One-winged freak. Unfortunately, his smug pegasus nature backfired on him. Like so many other Pegasi, Nameless Minor Character had flown at every possible moment to flex on Unicorns, and especially Earth Ponies. In the end they'd have the last laugh though, especially Unicorns, who can float themselves around with telekinesis anyway. Babies can fucking do it. Because of their constant flight, the Pegasi had impressive, rippling back muscles that glistened even through their thick plumage, but over 70 percent of the population has crippling atrophy in their other muscles. One example of a Pegasus who COULD walk is Fluttershy, who was obliterated.

Thanks to the mass hubris of his species, this complete fucking idiot was forced to crawl all the way to the only main character in Cloudsdale: Rainbow Dash.

Rufus burped, then blushed, covering his mouth. "Goodness gracious, that was most unbecoming of me. I don't know where that came from, that bunny was hardly a satisfying meal," he muttered aloud. He didn't have any possible way of fathoming what amount of time he'd spent in that portal, but he believed it to be at least a few hours, maybe even days. His stomach gurgled and moaned with need, so he'd been there long enough to digest his last meal, a hearty slice of an Instagram woman's fake ass that he'd been saving in his fridge. Speaking of which, his stomach wasn't the only thing growling in his gut.

Rufus's pert little rectum was crowning as a hot, brown lump of giant shit poked at his chocolate star, turning it into a chocolate donut. The shit trudged it's way forward like a caterpillar shedding its skin. To make the comparison even more apt, the shit that was prying apart his tiny asshole was actually slightly denser than Rufus's body. The tension in his anal ring was so great, and the turd so sturdy, that once it passed the halfway point the anus sprung back into place like a rubber band, rocketing the football-sized shit directly towards the adjacent town that lay on the horizon beyond the smoldering wreckage. When his anus sprung back it also made the whip crack sound from Johnny Test.

"Ahhh," Rufus sighed, "now I have room for a real meal."

Meanwhile, a few miles away, at a local Hoofegg game, Touch Down panted heavily under his helmet. The helmet was dented and battered from literally hours of ramming head-first into other horses, as was his spinal column and skull. In fact, if one were to look at an X-ray of his head-and-neck area, it's likely you'd find as much of his skull dislodged and implanted into the soft folds of his brain as actually still attached to the leathery shell of skin that formed his head, giving it a semi-pliant texture that allowed it to dent and bulge with each new hit. A fact his head-sculptor, a pony who professionally un-dented pony heads, would sigh at outwardly, but praise in secret due to the job security. 

After a particularly messy head-on-head collision that resulted in minor internal-hemorrhaging for him, and permanent brain death from his opponent, Touch Down got up and looked at the score board, the blur of a dozen concussions and intraocular phlebotomization(a minor surgical trick pony doctors often use to temporarily halt the inevitable blindness all Hoofegg players suffer from after so many concussions) not enough to stop him from seeing the 20-meter tall scoreboard and its bright-red numbers. 0 - 0. The score was completely tied. At this point, it was anyhorse's game. Anything could happen, but Touch Down intended for that anything to be him winning. In fact, his career depended on it. 

This was the most important game of the season, and if he lost he had no chance of being scouted by a professional Hoofegg team and making absurd amounts of money. Unaware that he was drooling through the gaps of his missing teeth, Touch Down stepped up to the line as the starting siren aggressively blared, facing a soft-faced new opponent, fresh off the bench and less than half his size. The pony smiled at him, sparkles in his eyes as he was face-to-face with a famous Hoofegg player. "Wow, I'm actually like your biggest fan," the pony admitted with a blush. Also it was a girl pony. A cute girl pony. 

If Touch Down still had the faculties to do so, he'd probably be running a solid half-chub at this very moment. Alas, he saw only an easy target, and he smiled, revealing a mouth with less teeth than you have brain cells. "My friends are never going to believe this," she said, gushing, but not literally... Not yet... "Except that this is on live HV, so everyone can see it. Anyway, you're the reason I became a Hoofegg player in the first place. I'm sure you get this a lot, but, can you sign my titties?" She asked, batting her unreasonably-long eyelashes and nearly blowing Touch Down off his horse feet.

But not nearly enough. A moment later, the Refereels screeched, and the round began. Within a second, Touch Down had accelerated to 130 miles an hour and collided head-first into the other pony, crushing her skeletal structure like an accordion. The sheer force caused her body to briefly warp and roil, guts sloshing and heating up from friction, before fissures rent from anus to mouth like some desecrated burrito, and with an ear-splitting burst and a shock wave that sent viscera into the stands, her body made like a banana and split. 

As pillars of gore rained down, coating the ground in a fresh carpet of meat, Touch Down skid to a stop, briefly hydroplaning across the slick ground before his hoof nails managed to dig in and grind him to a halt. Always one for showboating, and spurred on by the ravenous cheers of the crowd, he turned and pulled out his dick, an impressive 3-inch worm hanging askew with a miserable sack, like the one I use to carry my marbles, dangling languidly behind. His larger-than-average Earth Pony dick hung limply to the left, the angle of the dangle of course proportional to the direction of the erection. 

He dragged his way over to where the majority of her filthy girl innards had landed and violently compulsed as he raped her remains live on HV. Everyhorse was watching, and they got a big kick out of his display. "It's what she's always wanted," her parents said, before dying of Horse Aids a few minutes later.

In somewhere between 5-15 second later, depending on how quickly you're able to read, he was finished, and blew an impressive load of watered-down goo onto her corpse. Thankfully, horses are so infertile that their cum is composed almost 98% from salt water, and a measly 0.00001% from actual semen. It often takes upwards of 30,000 misfires before a successful impregnation can be achieved, but I digress.

With no opponent left to stop him, and all other horses busy bashing their skulls into each other, Touch Down turned and began towards the giant 'V' that served as a goal, his Hoofegg latched tightly to the back of his head. He could already see the news reals telling of his epic triumph as he sauntered his way towards the goal, about to score the first point in the 6-hour-long game. He smiled wider than ever, realizing his career wasn't over just yet. After this game, he'd finally have enough Horse Dollars to retire, cure his sick entire lineage who were all hospitalized for Horse Aids(from excessive inbreeding likely), feed his puppy, and also buy a ring to propose to his girlfriend, Applejack. 

Just then, a brown, shit-like Hoof Egg flew through the sky at impressive speeds, creating a sonic boom as it passed over the field and straight over the opposing team's goal V before rocketing off into Ponyville. The crowd immediately lit up with cheers, glowing in a bioluminescent display as they celebrated the victory of Touch Down's opponents. There are no rules in Hoofegg that specify that a Hoof egg from out of the game can't score a point up. 

The giant Score display quickly flashed 0 -1 and the game was over. All the other ponies filed out of the stands with practiced precision and impeccable stadium design-planning, and were back home in time to tuck their kids into bed, leaving Touch Down alone in the field. After a few moments, the lights all turned off, but it's mid-morning in story so it wasn't dark or anything. 

Touch Down sat still for a moment, coming to terms with his failure. He could never look his family in the eyes again, mostly because they'd be dead within the next 2 minutes and he urgently needed to win the game to get them the medicine immediately with his money or else. With a sigh, he headed home, head down in defeat.
> That's no Teenage Hamb
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rufus scuttled across the ground like a creepy centipede, a dense carpet of discarded leaves, fruits and buds crunching under his tiny, yet unfathomably powerful pawsteps. Such juicy herbs might seem impossible to pass up to a disgusting garden-gorging bush-burper like yourself, but to a ravenous carnivore like Rufus they may as well have been pieces of jungle feces, strewn about the floor in varying sizes and colors. What Rufus wanted, aside from a cute gamer girl's little feet placed gently upon his tongue, was a colossal slab of uncooked meat.

He scoured the forest's edge for something, anything edible, but as he completed his scan of the perimeter, a task that took hardly ten minutes for a being as fast as him, he came to the disheartening conclusion that the horrifying beam of light that had spawned him had also scared any potential meals deep into the forest's center. Now at this point, you might be asking yourself, "well gee, why dun Rufus just eat that them ther crispified forest vermin like a disgusting imbecile?" Well, unlike a sniveling little creep like you, Rufus has some class. He doesn't want to be fed, he wants to hunt.

All this was problematic for Rufus, as he can only run really fast in a perfect circle, not  in a straight line, the animals had the upper hand. He fretted for some time before he realized that the only way to deal with something this problematic was to cancel it on Twitter.         

Quick as a whip rufus pulled his phone out of his asshole; it even made the whip crack sound from Johnny Test. His adorable rat fingers clacked along the touchscreen, as he pulled up the Twitter app on his phone.  

"This is your last chance, I have over fifty followers and I WILL get you fired from your job because you dared exist in a manner that inconvenienced ME for even a single second," Rufus snarled with a sinister sneer. But he was met with silence, as while the Earth bent to his whim, setting the Amazon Rainforest ablaze, the forest that was right in front of him stayed ever imposing. Rufus quickly realized that not only did his phone not have service in this strange new world, meaning he was probably in Kyrgyztan or something, but it had also somehow broken when every atom of itself got ripped to shreds and reassembled, "I guess they just don't make em like they used too."

He shrugged and darted into the forest as fast as his little legs could take him, spurred on by his aching stomach. It wasn't fast. His stumpy little legs could only escort him at a meager twelve miles per hour. He hated running in straight lines, it made him feel like a man who'd fallen from his wheelchair, practically immobile by comparison. His waggling snout huffed and prodded at the air for some clue of the location of a significant prey, but through whichever means, they were able to avoid his keen mole smell.

Eventually however one piercing odor jammed through the muck of ambient olfactory inputs and struck Rufus right in the sniffer. It was coming from just a few hundred yards away, and it reeked of magic. He almost puked, but decided it wasn't time to jerk off while he puked all over his own cock until after dinner. His wailing gut made it impossible for him to get hard anyway. He dashed toward the source, drooling as he got closer and closer, before the dense wooden towers surrounding him broke out into a clearing, within which lay a single, massive tree that sprung forth from the ground like a big hard wiener.

It was speckled with holes, all of which had dim lights pouring out in soft beams very much unlike the one that'd brought him here. But what most interested Rufus was the door, which meant that this tree clearly housed some manner of potentially tasty terrestrial. He swaggered right up to said door, swinging his fat cock around in his hand like a baseball bat. He helicoptered it as fast as he could before thinking of a good helicopter-dick-based pun to say.

"How bout a chopper on your chops, wimp," he spat, before swinging his dick full force into the door, resulting in its near-instantaneous collision with the opposite wall of the tree house. A yelp came from within the abode, and Rufus rotated his head towards the source, locking his eyes on a terrified zebra that was huddled over a bubbling cauldron.

"Who in the fuck are you, and why the fuck was this something you would do?" the creature rhymed at him obnoxiously.

"I'm here to eat, not rap, you best hop into my belly before I have a white woman call the cops on you." Rufus skulked toward the poor zebra, cutting her off as she desperately tried to circle around and away.

"I'm not as retarded as you think I am. For situations like this, I have emergency ham," boasted the little zebra. Rufus paused for a split second, he loved ham, any food forbidden by two religions has to be worth devouring. All the funnest activities are ones that piss off God.

"How big is it?" moaned Rufus as he licked his lips, whining for the delicious ham like your cockslut mom whines for more cocks in her gaping, crusty pussy. Your momma such a whore that when you were born you got AIDS in your head.

"What I'm telling you is true, the ham's four times as big as you." This got Rufus's eyes rolling in his head like when a cartoon character thinks he's gonna get a lot of money and his eyes turn to money signs except Rufus's turned into hams.

The little zebra swiftly ran over to her enormous double-door refrigerator and pulled out a massive ham that glistened with succulent hog juice in the dim glow of the wall candles. Rufus wasted no time, leaping through the air with his mouth agape. He sunk his stupid-looking Timmy Turner buckteeth into the ham as his mouth stretched around the lip of the entire meal.  He slowly wiggled his top jaw, walking the ham deeper into his open maw with his gigantic incisors. The repulsive gurgles that lurched wetly from his gullet were accompanied by splatters of vile drool, that had already begun breaking down the ham. The resulting mixture was something akin to pork broth.

Finally, his lips closed around the end of the ham, and his body stretched to accommodate, bulging out like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka. Like a trash compactor, his insides loudly crushed the entire ham until his body was deflated enough to at least move again. He belched, blushed, and giggled like a little girl. "Tee hee."

Full and satisfied, Rufus sunk to the dank floor, a carpet of dried moss, rotting tree bark, and maggoty bread. He let out a long yawn, his mouth stretching open to reveal his rows and rows of needle-like teeth extending into the back of his throat. "That really hit the spot," Rufus admitted, as he got comfortable, "and boooooy I sure am sleepy." 

Across the room, the zebra nodded. "You were a fool to eat my meat, and a double fool to trust me(at). You should never trust one who lives in a tree like a sniveling creep, now lay down your sweet head, and don't make a peep." Rufus wasn't sure why she was instructing him to not make those sugar-infused marshmallows from Easter, but he wasn't about to complain. That is, until the zebra continued her monologue: "It wasn't even real ham you consumed, it was actually 'hamb' you ignorant buffoon."

Rufus' eyes lit up like the fourth of July, and his neck turned at a sharp angle, his cheek flaps whipping around and violently knocking a few vases off their pedestals. He wasn't currently wearing his Double You hat, so he had to speak what was metaphorically on, but physically off, his mind. "W-hat?! Pray tell you amend the previous statement to now end with 'I'm Joking', lest I become irate."

The zebra gave him a level stare, the little bubble resting perfectly in the center of her forehead. "How greedily you ate the hamb, is it perhaps that you don't know what I amb?" She said, nearly reusing her rhyme from earlier. 

Rufus looked a touch confused, but his mind was able to work at speeds the likes of which you can't even fathom, and he was quickly able to come up with an appropriate reply. "A zebra," he said with a smug anime girl.jpeg.

She scrunched her face up like a tissue after I've finished cummi- Wait I already used that one... Uh, she scrunched her face up like those hair ties that were popular in the 80's that, if Disney channel is to be believed, are called 'scrunchies'. "That's our word," the zebr- I mean, she said angrily, "something, something, bird."

"Keep your something, something, birds to yourself, and I'm afraid I'm not following. If you're not a zebra, pray tell, what are you? Or am I to presume these word games are some elaborate foreplay foreshadowing us having sex in the next chapter? And answer quick, lest I raise my voice," he whispered.

"What?" She asked.

"Keep your something, something, birds to yourself, and I'm afraid I'm not following. If you're not a zebra, pray tell, what are you? Or am I to presume these word games are some elaborate foreplay foreshadowing us having sex in the next chapter? And answer quick, lest I raise my voice," he repeated, loud enough for her to hear this time. 

Hearing this, she got a wicked grin, "Then you truly don't know about me or my kin. We are ponies that have fallen to sin. We blacked ponies are wicked as sin. The result of our evil is a full-body cutie mark that represents all our sin. For we are evil within. Each band represents a different negative trait or action I perform or should I say a 'sin'? One time, I stepped on a stray puppy on accident at the park and got a black band on my shin, and before I knew it my number of black marks was above ten! And this one on my butt isn't actually a cutie mark, it's just a stain from a pen." A new mark materialized, as now she's a liar. 

"Well gee, you have more bands than the fabled thirteen-banded armadillo," Rufus observed. "And might I suggest giving cosign and tangent a try." 

She ignored this quip in favor of continuing her explanation, and further building the world, "and of course, I got this mark for concocting drugs without a permit. I put some of those drugs in the hamb, and you ate it." 

Rufus woke up from his drug-induced slumber. "What?" 

"And once you pass out, I'll grind your body down and my degenerate friends and I will snort it as an aphrodisiac."

Rufus put one hand on his chin, his claws manicured and painted a hot pink as he's a bad bitch, and thought to himself for a moment. "You know, I'd kinda prefer if you wouldn't," he admitted.

"Oh, uh, alright then," she said, "I guess I won't. 

"Thanks, I appreciate that," Rufus nodded, still feeling a bit sleepy from the drugs. He knew what to do, though. He reached into his gaping asshole and produced a sparkling wand with a glowing pink heart on the tip. "Sparkle POWER!" He exclaimed, and suddenly there was a great big flash, everything just changed, his molecules got all rearranged. 

He spun in place, his many folds along his back and tummy stretching tight, forming into the shape of a frilly dress, and the drooping flesh on his scalp pulled back into twin skin tails, each one as long as Rufus is tall. They flopped around as he continued to twirl, seemingly in a wind that only they knew. And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say, his small eyes grew three sizes that day.

"Kawaii Desu~~~~" He said, winking. Then all the drugs were purged from his system instantly as drugs aint daijobu. 

"Nani?! That's impossibru!" she said, doing a flip.

Rufus was impressed, but not as impressed as he's gonna be. "Ugoo~ By the by, my names Rufus-chan, des!" He turned to look at the clock, only to see it was later in the day than he though. "Kyaaaa, I'm going to be late for the first day of school. That's totally NOT sugoi!" He put a piece of toast in his mouth and was about to run out the door when another voice from across the room caught his attention.

"Hey, don't go!" Rufus head turned so fast, it made the whipping sound from Johnny Test, and he saw in the corner of the room some kind of furrless pink rat female in a cage. "Nani the fuck?!" 

"I'm a chupicabra, and she's trapped me in this cage and is going to kill me. You have to help me."

Rufus considered it, then nodded. He turned back to that other girl who'd been waiting patiently across the room. "Now you've asked for it, villain. Face my Heart Heart Puffy Peach Shower!" As he shouted this he turned, his face getting red as he strained.

A single radiant heart fluttered clumsily out of the tip of Rufus's wand, waggling on a zigzag path towards the enemy zebra. It collided with the side of her head, emitting a pleasant "slap" before dragging itself along the length of her body, scraping off hair and skin with it. 

The zebra screamed as her skin was eaten away by the sparkling heart, which was not only radiant, but radioactive as well. The destructive waves blasted the very atoms of the skin as it violently vaporized it, leaving a long greyish-red streak along her body, starting from her snout, ending at her rump. Once the heart slid off the zebra's form it continued forward and smashed into the far wall, before melting through and sailing into the forest. 

The adrenaline and shock from having her skin smeared off momentarily knocked the zebra out of the throws of agony. Her eyes darted for any way out, before resting on a single mask hanging on her wall. As she dove toward it, Rufus released a tornado of hearts that spiraled towards her, each humming with radioactivity. Just as they collided with her she dashed the mask in front of her face.

They thudded forcefully against the wooden cover, but not one advanced beyond, instead careening off in random directions, bashing through the walls and into the darkness. Rufus cursed aloud, which is not ordinarily kawaii, but he made sure to put his finger up to his lips and widen his eyes when he did it. 

"Oogah Boogah," retorted the now-masked zebra before leaping through the nearest window. As she descended, a piece of glass cut her on the side and the mask disappeared, "WHOA!"

Rufus considered giving chase, before realizing that he'd barged into her home and nearly killed her, and was therefore the aggressor/bad guy. 

"But that can't be right, " Rufus pondered aloud to himself, "I'm here to disarm a bomb and save the world, so who cares if I murder and eat somebody who kidnaps chupicabras?"

"Certainly not me," replied the chupicabra from inside her cage, "I actually might be in favor of such activities."

"That's good to hear," chuckled Rufus, "though I must say you seem like a biased source."

"Yeah? Well I'm also a bi-ASSED source," moaned the lady chup as she turned around. Rufus looked down and was amazed to see that she did indeed have two asses, one right next to the other.

"Wow, bi-assed is RIGHT!" exclaimed Rufus, "but a 'source' of what might you be exactly?"

She rolled her eyes in response, before spreading her four ass cheeks, revealing two butt holes.

"Poop, silly."

That was all Rufus needed to hear. Immediately his hands flew to the latch of the chupicabra's cage,  not wasting time jostling it loose, but rather tearing it from the cage along with the entire door. With buoyant zeal he plunged forth into the jiggling masses of quadruple-cheeked twin-rectums. 

His needle-thin tongue snaked out from its moist basket like a charmed cobra and into the even moister depths of the alien anus. His hands dutifully spanked along the row of cheeks at a rhythmic pace as his tongue whirl-winded around her inner bowel, gradually collecting shit.

He then ceased spanking and wormed his prodding fingers into the crusty cheeks of the left ass, carving through caked shit like a scooper through soft ice cream. When he reached the basin of the shit pit, he was not greeted by a puckered hole, but rather a beautiful budding rose. 

"My gosh you're prolapsing," cried Rufus as he pulled back from the freshly-licked hole, the shit in his mouth sliding down his throat with a sensual 'gulp.'

He haphazardly plunged his erect cock into the healthy, licked asshole, then locked his eyes hungrily on the adjacent ass. He violently spread the tender cheeks, the caked shit cracking and flaking off, creating a noise akin to potato chips being stepped on by gamer girl feet.

The red rose bud within seemingly guided him like Rudolf's nose, drawing him ever closer. He opened his mouth as he dipped toward the sleek scarlet pod, gently extending his tongue to give it a soft lick. His massive incisors rested themselves on either side, before he slowly applied pressure.

He did not bite. To Rufus, this would be like biting a perfectly cut Ruby in half. Wasteful, tactless.  With his two eternally growing rodent teeth he gently, gingerly squeezed the prolapsed asshole like one would tenderly nibble a nipple. 

Slowly Rufus thrust as he continued to squeeze with his teeth. The thrusting was a formality at this point. To him, it was for mindless penile stimulation, and for the chupicabra it was adequate anal sex.

The real treasure was the plump button that rested between Rufus's chompers. With every squeeze the chupicabra felt a shiver roll up her loins and down her back simultaneously. With every squish Rufus felt his balls, which are bigger than yours and produce more cum, tighten up against the underside of his cock, slowly stepping him towards an earth-shattering orgasm. 

"R-r-radical butt work, stranger," stammered the chupicabra through pants and moans,"now bite down just a tiny bit harder."

Rufus complied, and immediately a thin stream-of-consciousness brown liquid fired from the center of the boil-like prolapse and directly into the back of his mouth. The chupicabra moaned as her right anus clamped onto the cock inside it, while the left one squirted blast after blast of bloody liquid shit into Rufus's gaping throat hole. She collapsed forward with little ceremony, leaving Rufus both confused and disgusted.

"What the fuck was that?"choked Rufus between heaves.

"What do you mean?"

"WHAT DO I MEAN? YOU JUST SQUIRTED DIARRHEA INTO MY MOUTH YOU SLUT!" he screamed, "ANY NORMAL PERSON WOULD AGREE THAT WHAT WE DID WAS SEXY RIGHT UP UNTIL THAT POINT. THEN IT BECAME GROSS!"

Rufus was so mad he didn't even let that rude little bitch try to explain herself, he just turned and stomped out the door.





Meanwhile, elsewhere in Equestrian, Touch Down walked languidly across Ponyville towards his home. His normally-brown fur was still caked in dried blood from his latest Hoofegg match, and his shuffling gate occasionally dislodged flakes of dried viscera, leaving the type of red carpet Holleywood actors DON'T walk on. 

"Sigh?" Touch Down asked himself, prompting his body to sigh, displaying his excellent control over his bone-clothes; the true sign of a trained athlete. If you asked him to- which you won't because you're a coward- he'd also be able to fart on command, which doesn't seem impressive to someone who spends upwards on 25% of their time passing gas such as you, but is impressive by pony standards(which he is one of). 

Within mere minutes, Touch Down had reached his destination; A house. Not just any house, mind you. This was HIS house. A house which he had not only paid for, but also one he LIVED in. As he neared, he opened his sharp eyes, penetrated the atmosphere like a harpoon, allowing him to perceive the building before him. His eyes immediately widened, his soft skull creaking as they pressed against the narrow confines of their eternal prison, and his mouth fell open. 

"Gasp?" He questioned, only for his body to audibly gasp. You would too if you saw what he saw. Before him, a hole about the size of a full-grown beaver was smashed into the slanted side of his home's thatch roof, a small cloud of white smoke still wafting from the opening. 

"Aw heck, I don't have hole insurance!" He exclaimed as he rushed into his home, neglecting to open the door as he was in such a hurry he simply walked into it. As his body weight pressed against the narrow wood of the door, it creaked and bend for a single moment before shattering inwards in a rain of splinters and dust. 

Touch Down stepped into his home, his capped feet not even feeling the jagged shards of wood as he proceeded into the living room. Light shone through the ceiling-hole, making beams through the smoke that filled the area like a fine mist. 

"Blow?" Touch Down queried, and his lungs immediately discharged their payload of carbon dioxide, voiding the entire room of smoke as it was forced out one of the two openings. Touch Down's eyes, which hadn't yet retracted to their original size, grew in magnitude yet again, drawing blood from his surrounding body to add to their overall mass as cracks ran through his malleable skull and it let out a slight creak, threatening to crumple like a sea turtle egg. 

Before him, in the middle of the room, lay a steaming pile of shit in the shape of a hoofegg. A hoofegg he was intimately familiar with after it caused him to lose his last and most important match of Hoofegg. Moreover, the dense turd, wind-swept from its flight, sat right atop his puppy's favorite dog bed. The twisted legs, stuck out at horrible angles as though frozen in the throws of pain, revealed that his little puppers had been enjoying a relaxing nap while Papa was away at work when tragedy struck. 

"Mr. Meeples," Touch Down sobbed as he fell to his horse knees before the disaster, the smell of burnt shit finally reaching his nose. It would have caused him to retch if he wasn't intimately familiar with the smell from spending time with his girlfriend, Applejack, who worked on a farm. Touch Down's teeth ground together like nails on a chalk board as he came to a conclusion. This was no tragedy. Shit doesn't just fall from the sky for no reason. Someone had to have shit this shit. 

He stood up and swore a vow of vengeance. One day he'd find the bastard responsible for ruining his career, killing his puppers, and damaging his home, and he'd make them pay. 

Letting all his pain and anguish out in a single compressed "REEE!" that lasted only 3 short seconds, his mind reformatted, preparing for cold, calculated revengeance.
> Naked Mole Rat Movie: The Mystery of the Mayan Treasure
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rufus stomped angrily through the woods, his magical girl persona having faded as his angry frown stretch the tightened flesh back to its original elasticity. 

"Diarrhea. In my mouth? I don't fucking think so..." he grumbled under his breath, while over his breath he grunted with exertion from the hike through this harsh landscape. The ground was uneven with tangles of roots and vines and thistled-briers threatened to bind him in place like a pathetic sheep, clawing at his fleshy exterior with every misplaced step. 

Rufus really hoped he'd find civilization eventually. Crawling through the thick forest was giving him flashbacks of Nam, and every so often he swore he saw a Vietcong bush monkey hiding in a shadow, waiting to ambush him. When he'd turn to look, they were always gone. "Those damn Congs," he muttered, in a very poor mood. 

This decreased only slightly as he broke through the tree line into a clearing, the trees falling away on all sides to reveal a massive opening in the forest. At the far side, covered in moss and vines, stood a monolithic stone pyramid. Each tier looked to be at least 10 feet tall and it rose a dozen tiers high. Rufus would have been impressed, but his impression gland had released the last of its goo when he saw the two asses of that chupicabra earlier. As it stood, he simple started walking, no better plan than to explore this new location.

Hey, maybe he could find some Mayan treasure. As he approached, the structure loomed, probably looking daunting as it cast a long shadow over him, but Rufus' daunted gland had run dry when he'd found out it wasn't real ham earlier. Before he made it to the pyramid's base, something caught his eye. Not literally, as that would be horribly painful. 

He turned, seeing a small camp of gray creatures sitting around a campfire making S'mores. Rufus walked over, the slight breeze whistling through narrow gaps in his many skin folds, creating a sound like a falling bomb as he approached, and alerting the creatures. 

They all stood up on four legs, each one far smaller than Rufus. They were coated in gray fur with wiry pink tails, and as they approached he could hear them chanting.

"Rats, we're rats. We're the rats. We prey at night, we stalk at night, we're the rats."

A big rat in the front of the column began his solo, "I'm the giant rat that makes all of the rules. Let's see what kind of trouble we can get ourselves into!" 

They approached Rufus forming a semicircle that probably would have intimidating him if he had an intimidation gland. He didn't though... "You're the what now?" He asked the lead rat, who was easily twice the size of the rest, but still less than half the size of Rufus. 

"I'm the biggest rat," she proclaimed proudly, "I'm in charge of this expedition. We're gonna get the Mayan treasure."

Rufus looked calmly at the large gray rat before slowly reaching out his hands and laying them tenderly on the other rat's cheeks. The rat's cheeks flushed, as she was clearly a girl rat, and Rufus is an absolute hunk. With a soft, loving twist of his wrists, Rufus snapped the other rat's neck with a single crunchy 'crack'. Like removing the lid from a jar, he gave a slight pull and her head dislodged, uncasking her juicy innards which sprayed like a can of snakes as the pressurized seal was removed, coating Rufus and the immediate area in pink grime. 

"Look at me," he commanded the other rats. "I'm the biggest rat now."

With him the biggest rat that makes all of the rules, all the smaller rats were now naturally beholden unto him. With the pecking order, but not literally as rats don't have beaks with which to peck, established, one of the rats scuttled forward, pushing a pair of round glasses up the bridge of his nose. Catching the light like that one character who explains things in anime, his glasses briefly shone as he explained the situation.

"Naturally, as our leader, I should inform you that it's not actually 'Mayan' treasure we're after, but rather Ancient Vagyptian artifacts. Our research shows that this structure once housed many of their greatest Sciencologists and likely still carries some of their secrets."

Rufus put a claw to one of his multiple chins, rubbing his few white, bristled whiskers while in deep thought. After several moments he opened his mouth, "I'm not sure what the Ancient Vagyptians were up to, but there's only one way to find out." He turned and looked up at the slope of the pyramid, a steep staircase leading from base to top where there appeared to be some sort of entrance. 

Without another word, he began walking, and his entourage of rats followed closely behind. As they ascended, Rufus couldn't help but remember that scene in Alien vs Predator where the swarm of aliens conglomerated to attack a group of Predators at the top of a similar pyramid and he chuckled at the absurdity of such a thing. "Like that'll ever happen," he chuckled, foreskinshadowing future events. 

They made it to the top without issue. Rufus turned and looked out, surveying the land. The forest seemed to stretch on in all directions around him, and he briefly wondered if there even was a civilization with which to find in such a place. He was about to inquire to one of his rat underlings when he spotted a few columns of smoke in the far distance. It was impossible to know for sure, but to Rufus trained senses, he could guess it must be some sort of small town. Mentally cataloging the info in one of the many folds of his impressive brain, he turned and addressed the here and now.

Before him was a clear entrance in the form of an arched door over a staircase leading down. His eyes, however, were drawn to a carved mural on the large stone bricks that made up the entryway. On it were strange hieroglyphics featuring what looked like a great many vaginas as well as various other symbols. 

The rat with the glasses moved up next to him, also inspecting the carving. "Looks to have been made by the Ancient Vagyptians. These carvings are clearly the form of the Vagyptians, an ancient race of vagina-like humanoids. Unfortunately, they supposedly went extinct over 2,000 years ago. It's theorized that they actually evolved into the modern Scroacher, the abundance of scrotes forcing a change lest the species die out. This is all speculative, however." He explained.

Rufus turned and grabbed the rat by his underwear and stretched it up over his head, giving an atomic wedgie that the rat dweeb wasn't soon to forget. "Nice lore, neeeeerd!" Rufus leered, the group of rats collectively laughing at the suffering of their companion.

His dominance again asserted, Rufus strutted towards the entryway, arms swinging confidently at his sides. To his dismay however, before he'd even taken four steps, an obnoxious cough from behind cut off his self appreciation. Rufus spun 180 degrees perfectly on the spot without even moving his feet. 

"MMMMYyeessss?" inquired Rufus as he peered menacingly at the rats behind him. 

The weakest, most loserly rat of all stepped forward. 

"W-w-well your grace, not to point out the obvious, but this ancient pyramid sure looks d-d-dangerous." he stammered. 

Rufus slapped his hands to his face in a mocking facsimile of shock. "Why I'd never even considered that this could be dangerous, thanks for the heads up," he muttered annoyedly, "you were going in with your old leader anyway, what's the difference?"

This time the nerd rat saw fit to open his repugnant jaws, clearly having not learned his lesson, even as he dug his underwear out of his ass crack. 

"Our old leader was half your size, making tight crevice navigation a far more trivial affair." he lectured in as arrogant a manner as possible.

"I navigated your mother's tight crevice last night, how's THAT for an affair?" responded Rufus, quick as a whip crack sound from Johnny Test.

"Well," interjected a cool rat who was leaning against a wall with a leather jacket on and an e-cigarette in his mouth, "personally I think pyramids are pretty cool."

Rufus smiled, happy to have support from by far the coolest dude he'd met all day. 

"See? He thinks pyramids are cool. And HE'S cool. You're not and you don't. What do you have to say about that?"

The nerd rat blushed beet red, not from embarrassment, but rather because he'd been so thoroughly trounced on an intellectual level, that his brain committed suicide and stopped accepting oxygen from his blood. In mere moments he was convulsing on the ground. Then he was unconscious. Finally, he was dead.

"I wish I knew his name so I could find his grave and spit on it," mourned Rufus.

"His name was mud as far as I'm concerned," replied cool rat as he leaned, epicly.

"This is such a drag," whined the weakest little rat, practically a mouse compared to Rufus, who turned and glared at the pathetic rat with all the rage he could muster. 

"Listen here you stupid little shit, I'm not gonna put up with your complaints much longer," he screamed, harshly jabbing his massive fingers into the rat's tiny chest, "there's only two fucking kinds of drags around here."

And with that, Rufus dragged nerd rat's carcass into the entryway of the pyramid, while cool rat took a drag of his e-cigarette.





Elsewhere, a hearty orange horse wiped a literal gallon of sweat from her brow. It sailed through the air as a perfect basketball-sized drop and splashed at the trunk of a nearby apple tree. 

"Ahhh, last one," sighed the farmer as she shut off her Earth Pony sweat glands. As I'm sure you know since you're DEFINITELY not a total fucking idiot, horses ordinarily lack sweat glands, opting instead to pant like the dogs they are, even though they're horses. By contrast, some Earth Ponies have sweat glands capable of producing enough sweat per day to fill an Olympic swimming pool. 

"Ah sure do love sweatin' all over other ponyple's food," she remarked as she trudged her way through the now-watered orchard towards her simple barn. 

Once inside, the humble farm pony set to work on replenishing her glands for tomorrow by preparing herself a nice glass of ice cold water. She sipped it greedily, somehow holding the cup. Somehow. It is very clever to remind people that ponies don't have hands. I was actually thinking about writing a Human in Equestria story where Lyra likes a person's hands. Sound original?

Once she'd finished sipping, she placed her glass on the table and made her way over to her fridge. Out of it she pulled out, you guessed it, a bag of sweaty apples, which she carried over to the tabletop. 

Instantly her eyes fell upon the cup. The liquid inside was behaving very strangely. Ripple, then stop. Ripple, then stop. It was as if a tyrannosaurus Rex were stomping around outside her home. 

She sighed and trudged her way outside, awaiting her guest.	

She needed not wait long, as swiftly a form appeared in the horizon, steadily closing in and increasing in size. 

She smirked knowingly, as the mass drew so close that details were starting to focus out of the blurry moving creature, a sparing glance being all she needed to confirm its identity.

Still, the blur careened directly towards her at frightening speeds, or at least frightening to a punk-ass coward like you. Finally it stopped short a mere hoof in front of her, taking the form of her beloved Touch Down. 

"AAAAPPLEJAAACK," He sobbed, catching her off guard, as he shoved a twisted heap of bloody puppy limbs right in her face, "MEEPLES BROKEN!"

Applejack frowned forlornly, before giving Meeples a once-over. Broken was an understatement. As far as she could tell, if you put this smashed mess in front of a licensed vet, they wouldn't even be able to identify it as a dog. 

"Oh mah stars, Touch Down, sweety, what happened?" Applejack questioned in earnest. 

"SHIT!" screamed Touch Down. Unfortunately his well-trained body took this as another order, and his eager rectum blasted a veritable Kamehameha beam of shit straight out behind him with force that rivaled a fire hose.

"FIX HIM PLEASE! JUST LIKE PORCH!" Cried Touch Down as he bent down and placed his sobbing eyes on her shoulder. 

Applejack was impressed with his vocabulary, the pain of loss had him speaking in sentence fragments, rather than single-word exclamations. Still though, there was nothing she could do, and she suspected that through the layers of irreversible brain damage, Touch knew it too. 

"Ah am so sorry sugarcube, but that just ain't how the circle of life operates," she cooed, "but now that your diarrhea cannon has stopped, why don'tcha try and explain what happened while I dig Meeples a little grave."

Touch sniffled, but complied, overclocking his fragile brain so it had enough processing power for basic cognition. This process took tens of minutes, during which Applejack had plenty of time to grab a shovel and start digging.

"Shi-" began Touch, before his steadily overheating brain realized that were he to merely say 'shit' again, he would merely shit, again.  He thought as hard as he could, buffering for a while as he saved up a few words in his cache. 

"Shit from sky!" he spat, "FALL THROUGH HOUSE!"

The pieces were all coming together in Applejack's less concussed brain. Shit from the sky? That's ridiculous. Someone MUST have shat the shit. Even a fool like Touch Down knows that. 

"Any other details big guy?" she requested in a soft, loving tone. Touch Down whimpered as he rubbed his temples, his simple mind nearly crashing in the wake of all this emotional and mental stimulation.

"Meeples broken," he muttered plainly after awhile, "heart broken too."

A single solitary drop of sweat convulsed on Applejack's eye for a few moments before being released, falling to the ground by way of gravity and not watering a single tree. This whole situation really hit home. After Whinona had her vital goo sucked out by a chupicabra, Applejack had had to bury the little doggo herself. And since ponies don't wear shoes, they haven't invented shoe boxes to make the disposal of pets quick and easy.

She trotted back into the barn and found an old, rusty shovel leaned up in one corner. As she came back to find Touch Down voiding tears and his bladder, she sighed. "Ah guess Ah'll perform the funeral rites mahself."

Touch Down sniffled, nodding his head and casting twin viscous streams of snot into Applejack's hair. Thankfully, Applejack is quite skilled at digging graves, having buried her parents, Granny Smith, Whinona, and about 30 other pets as she's a neglectful owner, so within mere minutes she had a 6 foot deep hole dug in the road in front of the barn. 

Reaching behind her, she removed an old book from her tail compartment, and flipped it to a specific page. "Ah reckon it's time tah put Mr. Meeples in," she said gingerly, doing her best to tip-tail around her stallionfriend's newly-formed feelings lest he explode on her. Potentially literally. 

Like a wax sculpture slowly melting under the ambient heat of a nearby fire, Touch Down's face wilted, the corners of his mouth sagging until they nearly touched the ground as grief overtook him. Knowing what had to be done, he gave his body a single command. "Touch Down," he commanded his body to perform his namesake, and with a grace of movement that came from years of training and belied his bulky frame, he overhand threw the destroyed corpse straight down into the hole with all the force of a Hoofegg superstar. The puppy cadaver impacting the ground with a wet 'thud' and ejecting a spray of partially-coagulated blood into Applejack's eyes. 

The hole was dug and the body was placed. Going through her mental checklist, she realized the next step was to say the funeral rights, a liturgy to help send Mr. Meeple's thrice-cursed soul to Yifftopia, also known as dog hell. All dogs go to hell. Incidentally, Yifftopia is also Brony heaven as it turns out. She opened the book to a random page, and stared at it for a long moment. Despite being middle-aged, Applejack actually didn't know how to read. She wasn't about to let her sexy stud stallion know that, though. After all, she's supposed to be the smart one in this relationship. 

She decided to just wing it, putting insult to the age-old adage 'aint no thing but a chicken wing'. "Our dearly beloved, we gather here today to condemn the immortal soul of Mr. Meeple's to Yifftopia, lest his wandering spirit come back to haunt the living as a spooky puppergeist. In Kami-sama's holy name we pray, amen."

"Amen," Touch Down commanded, and his body amened. 

"Now thah that's taken care ah, how bou' we go wrastle us up some ice cream," Applejack supplied enthusiastically, knowing Touch Down couldn't refuse a good double-serving of green mint with chocolate chips. "Mah treat."

Touch Down clapped his forelimbs together like an enthusiastic sea lion at the zoo, its trainers promising sardines in exchange for subservience. His salt-water-saturated eyes ran dry as his tears evaporated, leaving white streaks of sodium chloride from duct to chin, and the snot ropes that previously tethered his face to earth like some slimy mooring quickly calcified before collapsing entirely into a cloud of green dust of which the pair eagerly inhaled for additional sustenance. 

"Me... like Icecream," Touch Down supplied after careful thought.

"Ah know ya dos't," she nodded, leading the way towards town. As they walked along the road into Ponyville proper, Applejack couldn't help but think she was forgetting something. After a few moments the fleeting thought left her mind, though, and she continued on with her day, glad she was able to help Touch Down get over an emotional hurdle. 

Meanwhile, back at the farm, Big Mac, Applejack's brother who was red with sunburn from another full day under the hot Baby Head Sun without any form of UV protection, trotted his way back towards the barn, a cart full of manure from the cow pens strapped to his harness. "Yep," he said to himself in homage to his sister. Long before Applejack was born, he had another sister, one he never told her about. Truth is, he stole his catchphrase from her, though she took it a few steps further, going as far as to combine three 'yeps' into a 'yep yep yep' of all things. Sadly, his father had murdered her.

With these thoughts occupying his mind, Big Mac didn't notice the large hole dug into the middle of the road until it was too late, and he fell forward 6 feet straight down. His neck twisted at an odd angle when he impacted face-first into a mulched pile of puppy pieces and he gasped out his last breath as the cart of manure crashed onto him, burying him in cow shit and filling the hole. He quickly suffocated.





Rufus took about four steps into the pyramid's entrance before stopping and turning towards his posse, who watched with anticipation from the doorway. "Well, what are you waiting for, a signed invitation? Come on, clearly it's not dangerous. I've already explored like half the building here," he exclaimed, exasperated by the pure cowardice of his rat party. 

"A signed invitation would be nice, actually," one of the rats responded and the rest agreed with enthusiastic nods. Having heard enough to drive him into pure, unrelinquishing rage, Rufus threw the nerd rat's corpse angrily onto the floor in front of him. The body, already stiff from rigor mortise, didn't even contort as it impacted the stone floor with a defined 'crack' and the even-more defined 'creak' of an ancient, un-oiled pressure plate being compressed inwards. In a flash, the rusty blade of an axe swung from the ceiling like a pendulum, sheering the carcass in twine.

As the blade finished its swing, it disappeared into a crevasse in the far wall, waiting for its next victim. Looking around, Rufus spied dozens of half skeletons strewn about the room, realizing where they come from. "I guess it is true what they say," Rufus started with a shrug, "The Pendulum is mightier than the Swordulum." 

With that over, Rufus took a step forward, completely forgetting about the pressure plate until it was too late. His foot pushed the stone slab down with a clean 'clink', having been recently lubricated by fresh blood. Rufus heard the telltale snap as the pendulum swooped from its hidden alcove on a clear murder run, out for round two, ready to spew HIS blood this time. He didn't even have time to scream before he was knocked violently onto the floor.

"Get down!" he heard as he fell face-first into a pile of creepy skeletons. Spook me sideways. 

There was a distinct squelching sound behind him which sounded awfully like a heavy blade passing straight through the body of a rat. Rufus got up on his feet and turned in time to see the cool rat standing behind him. He looked to be completely fine, his characteristic grin stuck on his face as it always was, and his shades on despite being inside a dark building. He gave a single puff of his e-cigarette, a gurgling coming from his lungs and he nodded to his glorious leader and best friend, Rufus. 

A moment later his body split perfectly down the center, the two halves sliding away from each other in opposite directions. Despite the atrocities Rufus had seen, many committed by himself, he averted his eyes, unable to face the carnage before him. If the trap hadn't killed him, the e-cigarette probably would have, but that didn't change how it made Rufus feel.

His voice took on a hint of malice, grief breaking away his normally-emotionless visage, "After his sacrifice... You still think we shouldn't explore this pyramid?" 

The rest of the group looked down in shame, unable to connect eyes with Rufus. This was due in part to the fact that they were across the room from each other and eyes don't stretch that far. 

Rufus turned and walked further into the building, descending a flight of stairs as his ever-shrinking gang of rats skittered tentatively behind. The group was quick to realize that the whole building was pitch black, but thankfully they could see just fine with their dark-vision (50ft), a rat racial trait. Rufus of course is a mole rat, so he gives even less of a fuck about all-encompassing darkness than anybody. 

One thing he deeply gave a fuck about was Cool Rat.  As he and the comparably pathetic remainder of his once-strong squadron trudged through the dry, abyssal stone cavern, that was the only thing on his mind. What a totally fucking awesome dude, and he was gone now. 

The tears that streaked down his wrinkly wittle cheeky weekies trailed behind him as parallel saltwater rivers. Devastatingly thirsty, the fourth rat, a rat devoid of any memorable characteristics,  bent down and sipped at one of the twin trails of tears.  His tongue was instantly beset by a horrible burning sensation, the PH levels of Rufus's tears making them poisonous to consume.

Rufus stopped crying immediately and turned to the bland rat that had been foolish enough to try leeching off his sadness for sustenance. The wetness of his eyes had completely dried, evaporated by the heat of this new rage, and for a moment his harsh gaze was snuffed out in a puff of mist.

"What the fuck did you think would happen you bland scumbag?" whispered Rufus, his anger almost manifesting itself as unsettling calm. 

"I'm sorry, I was thirsty." replied the bland rat, ordinarily.

Rufus cringed, this rat was by far his least favorite. Every other rat had a defining characteristic that made them them. Nerd Rat had been an infuriating know-it-all. The big, beautiful rat had been positively enormous, a trait Rufus could appreciate, as not only was he a large mole rat, but he was now the biggest rat of THIS ever-dwindling pack. 

Then, of course, there was the finest rat that Rufus had ever known. 

"I can't believe someone as bland as yourself would have the gall to sup the tears I was shedding over a dead best friend." Rufus remarked, "a friend who SACRIFICED himself like that."

"I've been thinking about that actually," chimed weak rat, "I don't think the large pendulum blade cutting him in half was what killed him."

Rufus merely stared at the weak rat with half-lidded eyes. 

"I'm serious, think about it, Cool Rat was constantly vaping and puffing e-ciggs, maybe he died from popcorn lung."

That was something Rufus hadn't even considered. Had Cool Rat died of a vape-related illness mere attoseconds before being sliced in half? The more he thought about it, the less it made sense, but when he stopped thinking about it, it made PERFECT sense. 

While Rufus was having his mind blown by the epic facts, his highly acidic tears that were strewn about the floor had been happily munching away at the decrepit inner masonry of the colossal architectural achievement.

Like a floor foolishly constructed from saltine crackers, the stone beneath them crackled, causing all three rats and rat-like beings to stop dead in their tracks. 

"I saw something like this in Journey to the Center of the Earth starring Brendan Fraser," lectured Rufus to his two remaining henchmen. If you could call them that, I've never seen them hench even one time. 

"I've only seen the sequel with The Rock in it." retorted the bland rat that was so ordinary, even his place in the rat pecking order was and always had been, directly in the middle. Now here he was, middle ranked again, pissing Rufus off AGAIN. 

"That doesn't surprise me in the least, only someone as bland as you would watch a movie featuring that Thumb-Thumb." sneered Rufus, "Anywhom, all that matters is that nobody has a rock fall out of their backpack and straight through the floor, lest we follow it."

Bland rat peered sheepishly at the backpack full of rocks that he'd been carrying along with him this entire time. As if by the will of Allah, a single, medium-sized rock, as indescribably non-suspect as the rat that lugged it, was teetering on the brink of falling out of his backpack. Instinctively he thrust his hand toward it in an attempt to save himself and the weakling rat. Not Rufus though. 

Unfortunately for himself and weak rat (also Rufus) his hand collided with the stone instead of grasping it. The trio looked, helpless and horrified, as the rock soared through the air and hurtled toward the ground. 

It collided, not with the dull 'clack' that one would expect of a rock hitting the ground, but rather with a sharp "crack" that made Rufus's bristly neckhairs stand on end. There the rock sat, momentarily embedded in the thin, meager layer of stone beneath them. 

The two rats sighed, relieved, but Rufus knew better. 

"Before we hurtle downward at approximately 9.8m/s^2 I just want you to know that you're the most disappointing creature I've met since I got here," stated Rufus as matter-of-factually as he could. The rat scarcely had time to hang its head in shame before all at once, the floor gave way, practically turning into gravel right underneath their feet. Mmmm, feet.

As he free-fell through empty darkness, a variable rain of gravel and two screaming nobodies his only companions on this trip into the void, Rufus began to twirl backwards, back-flipping in a display of acrobatics that I've never seen in all my days. My god, Rufus just did a QUAD back-flip. Jesus Christ, I didn't think it was possible. With trained precision, his spinning accelerated until he was doing multiple rotations a second. At such speeds, the folded wrinkles of his back were displacing large amounts of air with a rhythmic thumping of atmosphere suddenly being compressed and forced to move at high speeds to fill a vacuum. 

As his companions reached terminal velocity and rocketed past him into the darkness, Rufus reached Terminal Slowocity, his spinning providing enough lift to allow him to levitate. He spun, completely still in place for a few moments aside from the revolutions, counting the seconds as he listened past his booming flabs for the inevitable sound. 

'Crunch'!

There it was! In extra small font, but he was able to hear it all the same. That meant there was a floor, and by his math it was approximately 200 feet below him. It seemed this pyramid descended into some kind of underground chamber if the fall was this long. 

In one swift motion, Rufus stopping spinning and spread his arms out, the skin draped across his wire-frame stretching and catching enough air to parachute him into the darkness. Except it wasn't darkness as Rufus could see everything. 

He was in a massive open chamber, at least a hundred feet on all sides, leading down into the cavernous pit he was feathering towards. It seemed weird to Rufus for someone to build a pyramid that was about 95% empty space, but then again he's no engineer. 

He drifted for another five minutes before landing near a plinth at the very bottom of the drop. His feet splashed in something viscous, and Rufus was able to easily identify it as the liquefied remains of his two previous rat underlings. With a discerning eye, he differentiated the remains of one rat from another, and leaned down, lapping up some of Bland Rat's pulped corpse, retaking his stolen nutrients and magic.

Rufus stood to his full impressive height, his spinal cord uncoupling to allow his body to grow further erect, ramrod straight, stretching about three times that of normal. This tall, his skin was almost smooth on his torso, allowing an onlooker to identify his succulent tootsie-roll-like nipples, normally hidden away in folds, and large amount of dust, dirt, detritus, debris, and dirt fell away, no longer being held in. 

He did a full 360, taking in a view of his entire surroundings and forming a spherical image in his head like one of those Google Vans. With that finished, he grew flaccid once more, each segment of his spinal cord locking into place with perfect precision and his skin folding back on itself. Not wasting any time, Rufus dropped to his knees and began shoveling the piles of skin-fold litter back into his flesh pockets. There's no telling when that could come in handy!

He was done before too long. His webbed claws, having evolved for digging holes, made excellent shovels. Standing back up, he turned to the plinth near him, as it was the only thing of note he'd spotted in his quick search. Now that he observed it in detail, it looked to be some form of obelisk, covered head-to-metaphorical-toe in Ancient Vagyptian Hieroglyphs. Despite that, he couldn't make heads or toes of them xD.

With a shrug, Rufus was about to turn to leave, when a voice from the obelisk caught his attention as though it were a Rufus-sized net. 

"Wait, don't go." It commanded.

Rufus' normally-calm demeanor turned sour as though he'd just snorted lemon juice, and he turned and weapons-locked his eyes onto the obelisk, ready for kill. "You dare command me!?" He shrieked.

"Not command," the obelisk reprimanded, "simply implore. Surely you are the one the prophecy has foretold." 

This was the first he'd heard of a 'prophecy' and Rufus was immediately intrigued, his eyes lighting up like a lighthouse beacon to sailors on a dark night. He began shaking as his desire to know more intensified. 

The obelisk was able to read him like a book. Rather ironic for someone covered in hieroglyphs, don't ya think?  "Indeed, the prophecy tells of a heroic stranger with folds that can rival even that of the Ancient Vagyptians. One that could pass our test of free fall that I, THE LAST CENTIPEDE, might pass judgement."

"So this entire pyramid was just a fall-trap test?" Rufus observed, "very intelligent!" he continued, praising the Ancient Vagyptian's ingenuity and foreskinthought.

"Indeed again. Now, I will scan you with my Ancient Vagyptian laser beams, and should I deem you unworthy, I will vaporize you with those very same laser beams." THE LAST CENTIPEDE explained as its entire obelisk form began glowing with a red light. 

"Will it hurt when you blast me with those lasers?" Rufus wondered.

"It will be excruciatingly painful..." The obelisk replied. 

"You're a big guy," he interjected.

"...For you," it finished. 

After a moment more of charging, the obelisk blasted him with enough radiation to cook an African White Rhino(if they weren't already extinct due to poaching). Rufus' bones flashed through his skin as the lasers penetrated every nook and cranny of his body, exploring his crevices with an intimacy only a laser could know. Thankfully, naked mole rats are incredibly resistant to radiation if Fallout is to be believed, and he was totally fine. 

The laser scan finished, and the obelisk lit up, this time with party lasers, shooting a multi-colored design into the air. "Conglaturatio n!" he conglaturated, "You have passed the test!"

"What exactly was the test?" Rufus queried, a little confused by the whole encounter.

"Heck if I know," The Last Centipede admitted, "I wasn't sure what to do so I just blasted you with some lasers. You were fine so I guess that means you're the chosen one." 

"Fair enough," Rufus conceded with a shrug, the skin on his arms creating a gust of air strong enough to push him a few feet off the ground as he did so. "So what do I win?" 

With multiple puffs of steam, the obelisk split at its seams, opening into a padded chamber where sat a curled arthropod with exactly 100 legs. It looked up at Rufus with multiple pairs of beady black eyes, its maxillipeds twitching adorably, as it answered in a deep voice. "The time hath come. I, the last centipede, disembark from my prison and will now grant you the ultimate power of the Ancient Vagyptians. Insert me into thine Vagina and know divinity!"

Rufus bit his huge bottom lip with his gargantuan front teeth, penetrating it and releasing a trickle of puss that sizzled from exposure to outside air as it cascaded down his chin. "I don't have a vagina," Rufus admitted abashedly, ashamed by his anatomy for the first time in his life. 

"NANI!?" The Centipede yelled, the word echoing in the chamber for a few seconds. "How can this be? You're the chosen one!" He questions, turning and skimming over the hieroglyphs on his container, searching for answers.

"I can stick you in my ass," Rufus offered. 

"Not a chance," the last centipede insisted, "if you put me in your ass I won't be able to help myself from devouring your succulent meat. I'll consume a swathe of destruction from asshole to forehole."

Rufus knew this to be false, as the acids in his colon were powerful enough to melt steel, and would make quick work of this insect, but he kept quiet. "So what, we're at an impasse?" 

The centipede was silent for a moment, presumably in deep thought, before responding, having gotten an idea. An awful idea. The Last Centipede got a wonderful, awful idea. "If you don't have a vagina, we can just steal one instead!" With another release of steam another hatch opened in the obelisk, this time revealing a strange device. "The Transvaginator, one of the Sciencologists' greatest creations. Simply fill the dispenser with transvaginal mesh, then apply the nozzle to a vagina, and presto majesto, you've got yourself a vagina in the vaginal holding cell inside." He explained, pointing at the different parts. "This will hold the vagina and full vaginal canal in stasis until its time to attach it to yourself. That part I can help with." 

"An excellent idea," Rufus smiled, happy that his fantasies of becoming a little girl might finally come true. "Now where do we find a vagina?"

The Centipede shrugged, "Heck if I know, I've been in this obelisk for like 2K19 years. That parts up to you." 

Rufus put a hand to his chin, thinking of where he could find a vagina. Then he remembered the smoke he'd seen on the horizon. If there was society, there was bound to be a vagina somewhere, right?! "I think I know where to go," Rufus said with a smile, grabbing the centipede and storing him in one of his folds. The centipede was completely at home in his wrinkled exterior, and was able to crawl through his chasms with ease, finding his way to Rufus ear-hole. 

"By the way, my name's Ots'ethe (Oats-Eath, it's ancient vagyptian, give me a fucking break)," I look forward to a long and productive relationship with you, it centipede smiled with a centipede blush.

"Yeah, my name's Rufus. Now let's blow this joint." Doing a few laps to gain lift, he began flapping his arms, propelling himself in a spiral upwards.
> It's Chyme for Teletubbies
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle was purple, and not in a good way. She sat, her moist rump on a pillow specially-shaped to fit the exact contours of her posterior. It was also purple. And not in a good way, either. Her posterior and the pillow both!

I might mention where it was that Twilight Sparkle sat, and indeed I will. She sat on the upstairs balcony of her tree library home. I'm aware that it was replaced with a crystal palace or something retarded at some point, but I never watched past the second season of the retarded show this crap is based off of, so forgive me if I'm not up to date on your pathetic pony lore. Before her was a comically-large telescope, which she had pointed directly at the sun. 

As she stared into the focusing lens, concentrated sunlight penetrating her corneas and obliterating her cone cells, she was able to make out every misbegotten detail of the sun. No, this wasn't the sun, this was something else. She'd spent enough time staring intently at the star to know something was wrong. 

In fact, one didn't need a telescope to see the issue. The sun had been replaced by a giant baby head that floated across the sky in it's normal orbit, giving off light and radiation the same as the fusion ball it had replaced. It giggled and gasped, a happy grin stuck on its chubby cheeks and its blue eyes stared blankly at the ground below, but Twilight in her hubris couldn't help but imagine it's gaze was locked purely on herself in a mocking sneer. Twilight pulled her face away from the lens, a sun burn encompassing the purple skin around her eye, dying it a dark red, and she scowled in the sun's general direction, grinding her teeth angrily.

"Something is wrong, I can feel it in my feet." She didn't even need the Great Emerald's power to allow her to feel that! How dare that THING occupy her wunderhorse's sky. It suddenly occurred to her that Princess Celestia is in charge of the sun, and a sudden change in its appearance might mean something is wrong. Either that or her teacher was just playing a practical joke. Either way, she was intent on getting to the bottom of it. 

"Spiiiike!" Twilight screamed as she ran across her home, her hooves sliding against the glazed wooden floor which offered little traction. She was in a hurry, so when she got to the stairs she opted to simply swing herself bodily over the banister, falling 10 feet onto the library floor. 

Thankfully, a group of school fillies(all unicorns) were in the main room looking through books for a school project, and their bodies made excellent pads to break her fall. As she stood up and dusted herself off, she turned and leveled a stern glare at the limp ponies. "Libraries closed. Can't you see this is an emergency? Get the heck out!" 

She didn't wait for them and turned and rushed towards the basement. Hooking her little horn into the inverse-horn-shaped handle, she pried the door open, its lubed hinges barely making a sound. She rushed down the curving staircase, descending into her dungeon and miraculously not tripping. There, in the middle of the floor surrounded by his own detritus and shackled to the surrounding walls by multiple chains sat Spike, her lizard slave.

He barely seemed to register her approach, his eyes half-lidded and his head lolling to the side, and she was quick to reward his poor manners by cuffing him in the ear fin. He was already mostly deaf from frequent strikes of that manner, and his head fins were swollen and bruised. 

"Normally I'd berate you for your insolence in not properly prostrating yourself in greetings at your mistress' arrival, but there's no time for that," she explained, crisp, refreshing, and not too sweet, much like an Angry Orchard hard cider. 

Spike's mouth gaped and his eyes focused a bit as though finally noticing Twilight Sparkle as she magically levitated a quill and paper into his reptilian hooves, which he instinctively grabbed. For her part, his pony mistress had begun ranting, an action that she was quite fond of, though it came through as little more than a dull mumble, unintelligible over the ringing of his tinnitus. This went on for several minutes, and she waved her arms wildly, pacing around the room as she dictated a letter for him to write.

"...Signed, your ever faithful student, Twilight Sparkle." she finished, looking in Spike's direction for the first time since she'd started talking, "now send it." 

A thin strand of drool ran down Spike's chin, his mind having dulled over as a years-long lack of food had left his brain in a near-vegetative state. Absorbing an absurd amount of light molecules all at once through her sun-damaged eyes, Twilight was able to see that Spike hadn't actually written anything. This became even more apparent as he dropped the pen and paper onto the floor in the growing puddle of drool below him. He leaned forward, the chains going taught as they caught his weight, preventing him from laying down. 

Seeing the incompetence of her near-useless lizard slave, Twilight's jaw clenched as rage molecules marched through her blood stream. She rushed forward, cracking him in the cheek with a forearm before repeating the attack with her other forearm. She pounded on him like that for a good thirty seconds before she pulled back, breathing heavily. Spike was bleeding from a few gashes in his newly-bruised face, but his tough hide had prevented the worst of the damage. 

He remained limp, and Twilight spat in his direction. "You'd better learn some manners before the next time I come down here, or else," she threatened as she teleported back up the stairs, too good to walk UP stairs. She flipped the light switch off on her way out, casting the basement room into pitch black. 

She breathed heavily, venting heat as she made her way back into the main room. "It's hard to find good help..." she sighed to herself. "If I can't contact Celestia, how am I going to get to the bottom of this?" 

She began pacing back and forth, thinking of where the new sun could have possibly come from, or how to find out, when she heard an ultra-deep voice outside her house. She stepped over the prone bodies of the school fillies and looked out the window, spotting Applejack with her latest stallion, Touch Down. 

The pair were sitting in the middle of the road with a trough of half-melted ice cream on the ground between them. With efficiency and much gusto, they had their faces buried in the substance and were lapping it up like cats, their prehensile tongues scooping up spoon-fulls in quick succession. 

As much as Twilight Sparkle hated associating with the common rabble, maybe some of them might know what was up with the sun. It was unlikely to be anything more than a total loss, but maybe with the power of magic... and possibly friendship... something might happen.

The acrid fumes of her halitosis did their best to cloud her judgement, but thanks to her generally repugnant hygiene she was noseblind to almost every odor on the nose spectrum, save for only the rarest, most ancient of stenches. She plodded toward her front door, her chipped, gunk-coated hooves emitting wet plops instead of dry plops. Wet plops like when you poop on the ground lol you're so disgusting omg.

Twilight applied her majestic horn to the inverted horn-handle of the front door. In truth this locking mechanism existed to keep non-unicorns out of her library, and away from any further education beyond the one the state foolishly wasted on providing them. It even rejected the horns of her freakish alicorn superiors, whom she'd grown a lasting resentment towards after realizing their redundancy. Any unicorn could fly by learning basic levitation magic, and any unicorn could sacrifice a small child to increase a corn yield. Any accessories like wings or size and strength were paltry evolutionary extras in her eyes. Wastes of calories, and therefore resources, and therefore worthless. This moment however, it merely served as a means by which Twilight Sparkle could go outside. 

Once the door swung open Twilight was bathed in a glow of warm, pleasant sunlight that cascaded painfully along her body, sizzling her outermost layer of skin. 

She hissed like my dead grandma's dead cat. I liked that cat and loved my grandma. F in the comments pleZe.

As she inched forward, Twilight mentally noted that sinking deeper into the ungodly burning sensation the sunlight provided felt the exact opposite of dipping into the cold indoor pool she had in the basement in the spa just past Spike's disgusting room. Inverses often bear similarities however, and Twilight knew the genitals part would be the worst. She covered her pale pussy, that, were she hairless, would have been a sickly white, practically see-through even. Like a baby gecko. 

The sunlight failed to singe her asshole and vagina, so Twilight considered that to be pretty Win. Like totally Win dude. You Americans say that right?

THE LAVENDER UNICORN marched forward, towards one of the few denizens of this shit hole that could qualify as a main character, if just barely. Many stopped and waved cheerful greetings in Twilight's direction, this being the first time they'd seen her outside in months, but she paid them no heed, as her sun-battered eyes were laser focused on her weird orange friend and her big sexy boyfriend. Once she reached Applejack and Touch Down Twilight dropped to her forelimbs and panted as hard as she could. Despite her superiority complexes she was woefully unfit from inactivity, and she lacked any sweat glands to speak of, making her athletically laughable in comparison to the rippling-chested sweatmongers that now gazed confusedly in her direction.

"Say Applejack, this is a long shot given your lack of interest in the sky in general, stemming from the fact that your parents were hit by stray comets, but have you happened to stare at the sun at all recently?" she belched, unleashing a green cloud of noxious gas that seemingly defied physics as it failed to follow the path of her breath, and instead seeped down her chin on a billowing green stream. 

As it rolled across the ground like the massive sideways fireball from Independence Day, the gas ate its way through the cell walls of the grass and small flowers that littered the ground around them, leaving them shriveled and browned. 

"Ah can't say that ah have," gurgled Applejack rudely through a mouthful of delicious moose tracks, "in truth we been tryin' ta get over the death of a loved one. Poor Mr. Meeples was put out to pasture by a stray sky shit. Ah intend to get to the bottom of who dun shat the shit but right now what Touch needs is emotional support."

Twilight had barely been listening for the most part, her gaze having drifted to the gorgeous jizz-and-blood-caked sheathe dangling between Touch's legs. Twilight hated sports, but the little shit Scootaloo that sometimes snuck into the library with her race-traitor friend Sweetly Bells had been watching one of his games on her HV, and she knew of the chunky, 3-inch retard cock that lay in its depths.

What had piqued her interest was this stray shit. In truth she scoffed internally at the term. There was no such thing as a "stray shit," since every shit must be shat, and therefore has a shitter. But that was exactly why she even gave a fuck at all. Anyone powerful enough to shit so hard that they kill a puppy, would logically be more than powerful enough to turn the sun into a baby. 

"A stray shit you say? That's mighty intriguing Applejack, I saw on HV that a hoofball-shaped shit cost your boyfriend the game, do you think it was the same shit?" asked Twilight, as though she cared about any further analysis stemming from a meathead EarthCuck. 

"Ah reckon so, the shit crashed through his house, and it was goin' mighty fast when it shot through that goal from what ah hear. Ah was busy doin' apple related things as per one of my most defining character traits."

By the end of the schpiel Twilight had already stopped listening, but she heard the confirmation of her theory and as far as she was concerned that was enough. She left Applejack to mull about her worthless life and dashed off toward Touch's house.

Not knowing where in Equestria that could be since she isn't some desperate celebrity stalker, Twilight dashed instead towards the house of someone who was. 

In an embarrassingly long amount of time Twilight managed to shamble all the way down to Sugarcube Corner. Her naturally inquisitive brain pondered if Applejack stole that thing where she calls people 'sugarcube' from SugarCube corner. It would be just like an Earth Pony to steal. Just like it's just like an Earth Pony to stalk. 

That in mind, Twilight shambled forward and through the front door of the extremely fucking stupid looking bakery. 

Inside, she approached the little counter at the front, behind which sat the thiccest mommy pony Mrs.Cake :ok_hand: :cold_sweat:.

Twilight walked straight past her, not sparing her so much as a glance. She made her way to the stairs, before looking at the bottom step, then scanning her eyes up the rest of the staircase, scoffing audibly.

Her horn flickered, and her own body rose off the ground while at the same time being enshrouded in dim purple light. She slowly floated her way up the staircase, insulted at the mere suggestion she walk UP a bunch of STAIRS. Twilight will literally never walk up stairs in this story, if she has previously Ethesto will edit that shit NOW. 

She made her way into the hallway at the top, before dropping to the hardwood onto her hooves. Her fat tummy kept its momentum, and it stretched down and kissed the floor with a cute plop before snapping back into place, making the whipcrack sound from Johny Test. Quietly she slunk over to the bedroom door that she knew to be her stalker friend Pinkie Pie's. 

She slowly pressed it open, peering in to see her friend at a nearby window gazing intently through a telescope in a manner similar to Twilight's own. Twilight noted however that while she used it for useful things like sungazing, Pinkie was busy foolishly concerning herself with each wretched resident of this squalid town.

"Mmm, I guess Make a Wish likes ribbon candy too, I'll have some as hors d'oeuvres at his funeral." she mumbled noncommittally while scribing everything she saw, her pen frantically scratching across the little clipboard in her lap.

Twilight, PURPLE as she was, let her pony lips twist upwards in a devilish sneer, revealing unwashed teeth thick with plaque and gums a whitish-pink with gingivitis. Her eyes, yellowed around the edges from her poorly-cared-for liver, narrowed and she silently snickered to herself as she caught sight of Pinkie Pie's puckered pink pecker. Pinkie clearly didn't know Twilight was here, and now she was going to play a totally EPIC prank. 

She reached out with her magic, lightly tickling Pinkie Pie's pert posterior pie palace, immediately causing her body to cease up. Deeply ingrained in Pinkie's DNA as a reaction to sudden surprises, she released a sharp spray of liquid from a gland in her now-prolapsing puffy poop producer, painting the far wall, and Twilight's face, a dull yellow. The liquid was quick to oxidize, transmuting into a yellow miasma that filled every corner of the room and pushed out down the stairs and into the rest of the building through the ventilation. The sound of coughing, retching, tables being violently knocked over, and even glass shattering came from downstairs for a few short moments before stopping all too suddenly, a preternatural silence filling the building that just moments ago was full of life and joy. 

As the gas thinned, Pinkie Pie looked abashed, having turned to see what had caused her glans to fire, only to see the smirking face of Twilight Sparkle, the last pony she expected to come all the way here to prank her. Thankfully, being as noseblind as she is, Twilight hardly noticed a thing, or the direct exposure to Pinkie Pie's stinkfume would have undoubtedly killed her.

Seeing the look on Pinkie's face, Twilight couldn't help but laugh out loud at the dirty mud pony's misfortune. Unicorns would never be surprised so easily, and moreover they'd never spray noxious gas out of their butts. 

Pinkie Pie's face turned red with embarrassment, "Twilight, that was rude." 

"Haha, you're a fucking idiot," Twilight guffawed, scraping a glob of gelatin-like eye juice from the corner of her eye disk with one hoof, having been reduced to tears during her brief but harsh laughter. "Classic Pinkie Pie."

"Well, I do like making ponies laugh," Pinkie Pie admitted, somehow growing okay with the current turn of events. "I just hope the cakes and the babies got their gas masks on in time."

Twilight wasn't listening, though. She wasn't here for small talk, and she proved that point immediately thereafter, "Where is Touch Down's house?" 

Pinkie Pie knew exactly where that was as she liked to sneak out there in the dead of night and masturbate outside his window. "It's though the town, across the bridge, and over the big red hill," Pinkie Pie explained, but Twilight wasn't happy with that answer and returned an irritated scowl.

"I don't intend to waste my time walking there," she explained though grit teeth, "show me where it is."

"Ohhh, like an adventure?!" Pinkie Pie squealed, in text still smaller by comparison to Twilight's own. "I'll lead the way!" She started running towards the door excitedly, only to stop in her tracks as a purple magical aura clothes-lined her. She blinked her eyes open a few seconds later, the world spinning as Twilight looked at her from above, barely-suppressed anger on her face. 

"I don't intend to walk, you miserable mud blood. As much as it sickens me to even touch you, you're going to carry me," she explained bigly. 

Pinkie Pie stood up shakily and stumbled over to her dresser, pulling out a frilly saddle that was normally reserved for trying to slut herself out at parties. She put it on, covering the large bruise on her spine, and returned to Twilight, who was quick to magically shove a bit into her mouth before tightening a bridle around her face. She magically lifted herself onto Pinkie's back, as dirt horses are no better than flights of stairs, and kicked her stirrups into Pinkie's haunches, spurring her to run. 



	

It was the best of time. It was the worst of time. But most importantly, it was time for teletubbies. As the baby head sun emerged over the horizon that morning, squealing and giggling in a way uncharacteristic of a sun, it cast light onto an opening in the dark forest. In this clearing, starkly more colorful than the surrounding woods, was a grassy hill, bright flowers dotting its base. If one were to look carefully, they'd notice that the hill also had large, round windows and a massive wind wheel. Probably Bilbo Baghand's vacation home. Can I get a like from all you LOTR fans out there? Dislike/ignore if you're fine with Saruman and Sephiroth ruling Middle Earth with their orc armies(Yeah, like that'd ever happen xD)! 

As the sun rose in the sky, suddenly there was a farting sound as a half dozen brass tubes rose several feet out of the ground. They stopped, opting instead to emit the voice of a Brittish Wanker from their ends. "Time for teletubbies. Time for teletubbies. Time for teletubbies," the Voice Trumpets repeated. 

A hole opened in the top of the hill, and after a few moments several bulbous, brightly-colored humanoids emerged, each being introduced by the Voice Trumpets. "Tinky Winky!" they said, as the massive purple beast hopped out, towering an impressive 8 feet tall with its intimidating triangular head diddly. 

"Dipsy," they narrated, introducing a green, shorter creature. It began dancing, its dummy-thicc thighs clapping together as its head diddly stood fully erect. 

"Laa-Laa," they introduced the next, an absolute unit, yellow aside from its face and its tummy screen, its head diddly was curled like a dipstick, likely in some unspeakable accident. Even with the curve, it had both impressive girth and length.

"Po," they finished, however no other creatures emerged. The other three looked around, clearly confused. 

"Where is Po?" the trumpets questioned...

Meanwhile, inside the hollow hill, was the futuristic suite of these strange creatures. At one end of the room, wrapped in a tinfoil blanket, a short, red creature slept, blissfully unaware of the brass tubes outside that beckoned her. Nearby, with an audible succing sound as it consumed small particles of dust and detritus which rattled against its filter, a cylindrical blue thing exhumed filth from the floor and furniture. Its red eyes were wide, crazed from a near-eternity damned to vacuum this space and it flipped its trunk/hose this way and that, rubbing it against surfaces to subsume what waste it could like the pathetic bottom-feeder that it is. 

As Noo-noo, as that's the being's name, went around the room, he spotted some empty beds, eager to consumed the parasites, shed skin, and sweat the bed's owners had left. He swept his trunk over the beds, a crisp crackling sound coming from his body as he inhaled large chunks of discarded dead skin. After he was sure he had gleaned every speck of loose matter, he moved on to the next bed. His trunk landed on a damp spot, the sheets heavily yellowed, and he slurped up any remaining liquid from Laa-Laa's bed before searching the edges for scraps of discarded hair. 

With efficiency from millennia of performing this menial task, within moments he had done what a vacuum could, and moved on to the next bed. The mattress was recessed from the sheer weight of its normal occupant, and Noo-noo immediately stuck his trunk to the bottom of the inward curve, suckling the sweet, dried flakes of shit that Dipsy released in his sleep. Finally, he moved on to the fourth and final bed, this one still inhabited by the red creature. Under the blanket, she snored heavily, the screen on her tummy showing images of her dream; twisted horrors and abominable torture, a realm slick with blood and decayed by the psychic projectiles of countless soul's anguish. Even so, she slept soundly, the epicanthic folds of her eyes shut lightly, a thin stream of brownish drool pooling in her mouth and dripping down her chin and cheek as she occasionally rolled. 

Noo-noo's red eyes, so full of hatred, locked onto the red one, however the programming of his body compelled him forward nonetheless, and he stuck his trunk under the covers, soon finding what the cursed body was prompting him to seek. Inside a concealed flap lay Po's cloaca, the open ring revealing a dark path into Po's innards. Noo-noo's eyes darted around the room, frantic for a way out as his trunk pressed against the opening and began to succ. A liquid not unlike bloody diarrhea mixed with amniotic fluid gushed from the recess and was slurped up by his trunk with a sound like succling the last bits of a milkshake from the bottom of the cup. 

His pupils thinned to pinpricks as he was forced to consume the fowl substance not for the first time, and while he had the urge to vomit, his body did not- could not. And so he kept succing, trapped in this hellish cycle for eternity. If he had a mouth, he'd scream. 

For her part, Po smiled in her sleep, and her body reflexively strained, voiding her bowels into Noo-noo's trunk, also feeding him plenty of farts. After a few minutes, there was a crinkling like when you suck the last bits of juice from a Capri Sun, and Po's body had noticeably diminished in girth. Too disturbed to even be thankful, Noo-noo pulled away, seeking other dank places to leach from.  

Po's tummy screen suddenly turned to static as she awoke, and she groggily lifted her head, feeling absolutely famished. She turned and looked at the live studio audience (You). "Tubby Custard," she expressed, thankful for your understanding in the matter. With a practiced flick of her muscle-bulging wrist, she tossed the tinfoil blanket across the room like a square frisbee. It whirled through the the air for but a moment before one corner embedded itself in the far wall and the rest of it fell limper than your tiny weiner. 

"Tubby Custard," she repeated, aghast that you blathering neanderthals didn't get it the first time. Finally, she explained for a third time while rising from the bed, adding inflection and emphasizing her words with a brilliant arm flourish. "Tubby Custard." If you didn't get it that time, I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry...

Leaning forward, Po somersaulted out of bed, landing in the middle of the room with an audible 'clank' as he potato-esque feet made contact with the metal floor grating. She sauntered over to the other end of the room where a large rectangular plinth extended from the floor and pointed, realizing that many of you our there in the live studio audience are about as smart as a bag of pointedly not-smart rocks. "Tubby Custard."

She went over to the object and began hitting buttons causing several parts to extend from its top. A small conveyor brought out a bowl and with a few practiced motions a nozzle began spurting an orange liquid in great soppy globs, drips of the glue-like substance gushing out over the lip of the bowl and splattering across the counter. After a few moments, Po's patience had run out and she grabbed the bowl, rushing towards a nearby table. She moved to one of the stools arranged around its ringed exterior and folded herself at the middle, fitting almost perfectly into the seat. If her body mass hadn't been diminished by Noo-noo's ravenous appetite, her thighs would have swallowed the seat like groceries. Or perhaps like Tubby Custard... 

Moistening her lips with a calloused tongue that bled from a dozen festering canker sores, she leaned forward and put her mouth over a straw extending from the bowl. With a practiced movement, Po rapidly expanded her stomach, swallowing a large amount of air and suctioning the thick orange goo through the curved straw and into her mouth. She consumed the Tubby Custard with gusto, and in less time than it takes you to read this sentence, she had finished consuming the whole thing. 

Po's body was looking bloated, the air she'd swallowed inflating her intestines like a twisted balloon animal. She leaned to one side and released it as a long, drawn out bout of flatulence, no where near as caustic or disease-ridden as the ones she'd released into Noo-noo earlier- Those had had time to fester- but rancid enough to curdle milk or mutate turtles. After a few long moments, she sighed in relief before looking back at You. "Tubby Custard," she reiterated, flopping out of the seat and rolling to the machine. 

She was quick to get seconds, which she ingested with as much fervor as the first helping, which then turned to thirds, and fourths, and finally a fifth bowl. By this point she was looking about as plump as usual. Digging the stool out of her saggy ass, she stood and moved to the center of the room. A circle of sunlight shone through the ceiling from a skylight about 20 feet above. With a quick flex of her thighs, she rocketed her 250 lb body up through the gap, landing next to the other three of her kind, who had been waiting nearly three hours for her to emerge. 

They cheered and clapped their hands, ready to begin the day.





Rufus had left the tomb in short time and was wandering his way through the forest, though the thick vegetation was doing its best to stop him. Regardless, he pressed on towards the horizon. With each step, his testicles clacked together behind him like a perpetual motion toy one would have on a desk in their office, held only inches from the ground in a scrote cradle so wrinkly it makes your grandma look like a grand-Na (As in "Na dawg, not nearly wrinkly enough for me"). 

There was a tickling sensation as Ots'ethe emerged from between a few wrinkles on his neck, whispering sensually into his exposed ear hole. "Where are we going?"

Rufus ear hole rang for a moment before echoing back an answer, "To that smoke I saw on the horizon. Smoke means fire, which probably means civilization. And you know what civilizations have access to? Vaginas."

The centipede nodded in understanding, as that logic was flawless, but he did have another question, "Why don't you just fly?" 

Rufus sighed, aghast that he had to explain aerophysics to a centipede of all things. "Flying takes a lot of effort and I need space to take off. What's more, there's wind currents that make it far more difficult. I was able to fly easily enough underground as the air was so thick with dust I could have probably climbed back to the surface. With that said, I think I'll stick to gliding, and I need open space for that." 

The centipede nodded in understanding, as the logic was flawless, but he did have another question, "What's that thing?" Being prompted to look at 'that thing', Rufus squinted his eyes, zooming in to x2. 

Before them was a clearing in the woods, brightly-colored fauna showing through that surrounded a great green hill. "Well I'll be a canned ham if that doesn't look like a hill to me," Rufus said with a shrug, nearly throwing Ots'ethe from his body to which he grimaced in embarrassment. 

"More of a mound if you ask me, but that's beside the point. What is a hill of all things doing in a place like this?" This prompted Rufus to look around, and he realized for the first time that he hasn't seen a single hill this entire story. (Edit this to be true Ethesto). 

"So what, you think it's dangerous?" Rufus questioned, looking at the 'mound' in a new light. The light from the sun to be exact. 

"It's not a matter of 'is it dangerous'," the centipede explained, "It's a matter of 'how dangerous?'" 

Rufus aint no coward, and he aint no pushover neither, but that's not to say he has a whole lot going for him in a fight. If push comes to shove he can definitely kick some ass, but he's not some reincarnated human in one of so many thousands of repugnant fanfictions on this website who's super strong because the author couldn't recognize good writing if it jumped up and bit them on the tip of their fucking dick. 

"Good thing I have you then," Rufus said with a sigh, happy he had a super centipede that could project PURE lasers as a projectile weapon. 

"Oh no, I'm basically useless," Ots'ethe admitted. "I used up the energon I'd stored for hundreds of years to project those lasers. That pretty light show wasn't easy, you know? Unless I'm in a vagina I hardly generate any energon."

Rufus' gasped, his mouth gaping and an innocent bumble bee, endangered due to pesticides and climate change, on her way back to the hive to pollinate her starving children flew into the gap, immediately dissolving in his saliva. "Well that's a heck and a half. Now we're gonna die out here!" He screamed. 

"Not necessarily," the centipede said as he began to glow, "I think I have enough energon to summon a mystical artifact that will undoubtedly help in your travels." He shone with light, not like a laser, but cool anyway. After a few moments the light dissipated to reveal a small, white tube. 

Rufus extended his hand and took the item, sizing it up with a cursory examination. "It's trash," he said, clearly confused. 

"Yes, but not just any trash. That's a skinless skin-flute. The Ancient Vagyptians were both the inventors and masters of the skin-flute, and played them with skill not seen since their disappearance. In your hands you hold a skinless skin-flute, like a normal skin-flute, but just the bone. No way would I jump a beginner straight to a normal skin-flute, so this should be right up your alley," the centipede explained in a scholarly tone. 

"Excellent," Rufus said, genuinely happy for the gift. "I've been needing a new butt plug." He was about to insert it right up his alley as his companion instructed when Ots'ethe gave him the centipede version of a scowl.

"No you leaf-loving buffoon, you blow on it. While playing it, you have the power to control skeletons. It's a very powerful, very dangerous creation. I wouldn't trust any non Ancient Vagyptian with one. Anyone but you." 

Rufus put on his round glasses, taking on the guise of an intellectual as he pondered for a moment. "Well shit, you should have given this to me when we were at the pyramid. The entrance to that place was crawling with skeletons." Rufus turned, about to head back there, when the centipede stopped him. 

"Those were half-skeletons. The flute only controls skeletons."

Rufus was nonplussed, meaning if you were to search the labyrinthine folds of his flabby pink skin, you'd find not a single plus. Not sure why you would do that though you disgusting freak. 

"Speaking of You," Rufus began, shifting his focus from the ominously lush and pleasant field in front of him, to You, the studio audience, "where did all these grotesque goblins lurch forth from?"

"I've been alive for centuries and nothing this offensive has ever dared fall into my gaze," gawked the centipede as it glowered at your unbrushed teeth.

One of You stepped forward.

"Hey, I'm Jacob," stated the slovenly creature, arrogantly assuming it warranted labeling beyond 'that thing' or 'that loser.' Its shape was practically spherical, with mere facsimiles of limbs nubbing out at the sides bottoms and top, resembling what would be arms, legs, and a head on a proper human. Rufus guessed it was mammalian in nature, based on the matted leg hair that carpeted each appendage. It was so hairy it made your grandpa look grand-PA-thetic by comparison. 

"Can I call you Jake?" inquired Rufus.

"I'd be offended if you didn't." replied the studio audience member.

"Well Jacob would you mind explaining who the fuck all of You are and where You came from?"

"I JUST told you I wanted you to call me JAKE!" screamed Jacob the crybaby as,true to his word, he became possessed by an inhuman (or subhuman in Jacob's case) rage. He rolled forward at Rufus with murderous intent.

Rufus quickly pressed B to roll out of the way just like in Dark Souls, expertly dodging the living boulder because he's so fucking excellent at video games. That said, Dark Souls is just a rip-off of Bolt for the Xbox 360.

The mega-meatball careened past the mole rat, crushing the grass beneath it as it tumbled forward at impressive speed, before splattering hard against the tree. 

It seemed the creature had a composition resembling our asthenosphere, as once the outer layers of skin, hair, and clothes split, a gargantuan mass of highly viscous liquid burst forth, spilling everywhere. One could scarcely call it a liquid, in truth, as the texture was of something that warped and oozed in a manner similar to hot taffy. Fascinatingly, beneath the skin and roiling mass was a very pathetic-looking skeleton.

"I hope the rest of You aren't as horrible as Jacob," pleaded Rufus, but unfortunately for him You are. 

Perhaps fortunately for him, or perhaps much more likely not, a loud sound cut through the air not unlike an X-actoBlade slicing through the wrist of a 14 year old girl.

"IT'S FEEDING TIME FOR TELETUBBIES!"

Instantaneously, a soft rumbling overtook any possible silence that could follow, and it built to one that shook the trees, causing leaves to sprinkle delicately to the ground, their peaceful drift a stark contrast to the ground-rattling that caused them to fall. 

You, as a group, looked around confusedly, before horrifying realization swept over one of You all too late. Something had You, something strong. You truffles to pry yourself free from its vice-like clutches, but it was all for naught. 

Tinky-Winky giggled a deep, horrifying giggle that sounded like the giggle from FNAF. The screaming audience member in his grasp was completely subject to his whim, and so he expressed his wishes to You as he gazed malevolently at your spherical figure. 

"Tubby custard," he bellowed, his voice being at the same volume and pitch as the horn of a colossal ship. This time You understood, albeit far too late. Before, when You had cheered for Po, you had been cheering your own demise. Now your cheers were screams. 

Tinky Winky ripped his paws into your flesh, sinking his mouth into the resulting hole and slurping your tubby custard innards with his proboscis-like tongue. 

The other audience members rolled round frantically as the remaining cast of Teletubbies skipped after them,crying "tubby custard" every few seconds.

Dipsy made short work of any prey she(?) desired, her head-dildo functioning perfectly as a spear, with which she impaled her targets, causing their innards to spill out like syrup from a maple tree. She happily lapped up the viscera with gusto, adding their mass to her own. 

By contrast, La-la had a very difficult time impaling her prey, her short corkscrew horn was woefully ineffective. She couldn't make up for it with sheer size like Tinky Winky, nor did she posses the bone-crushing strength of Po. As a result, she was by far the frailest of the ensemble. Still, compared to You she was an apex being, and she certainly killed and ate enough to get by. 

Finally, there was Po, who merely grabbed at anything that drew near and ripped it open without much grace. He was easily the second fattest relative to his height, and he earned this stature through an endless onslaught of your deaths, none of which he regrets, if he's capable of regret.As they gorged themselves, the screens on their tummies, otherwise known as TeletummiesTM flashed on, displaying fragmented clips of your memories, which is to say, a bunch of footage of You sitting on the couch. 

Soon enough, the Teletubbies had slaughtered the lot of You and slurped up your goo. You hadn't even put up a fight, wuss. If a Teletubby tried to kill me I'd punch it in the face. 

Rufus gawked, shocked, impressed, and a little horny. He was a big fan of swallowing things whole, but there was a certain beauty to watching something get brutally torn apart. Even better, they'd killed You, his least favorite group of people of the past several minutes. His arousal immediately subsided however, when the group of weird fucking plush alien things gazed at him, still just as hungry as when they'd started the frenzy. 





Pinkie plopped onto the dirt, utterly exhausted. The weighty payload atop her back fell with her, aggressively pressing into her spine and popping a few vertebrae. It also pressed her bowels, forcing a toot out of her butthole.

The weight in question was, of course, Twilight, who, as slowly as possible, lifted her hefty frame off of her friend. 

"I suppose you did an adequate job of lugging me here," spat Twilight, brushing herself off despite not having gotten a speck of new dirt on her for the entire trip. She then turned to the steaming wreckage of Touch Down's home that he apparently bought and looks after despite being too retarded to properly speak or eat #plothole.

It was a wreck, but no shit. Actually, there was quite a lot of shit, most of it being in the center of the disaster, resting in a puddle of what little gored bits of Meeples that Touch hadn't ran off screaming with. 

Twilight used her magic to scoop off excess hair and partially-coagulated blood from the shit, not wanting to get herself dirty, before plunging her horn into it and lifting it off the ground. She then floated herself once again, up to her perch atop Pinkie's delicate spine. 

"Mush, you cringelord," screeched the magical Pony to her less magical friend. Twilight's heft, plus the weight of the shit, left poor Pinkie Pie positively exhausted. Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to a standing position, but she certainly couldn't let down her best friend Twilight. So she crawled with every ounce of strength she could muster, scraping herself across the cobblestone streets, first rubbing off her hair, then her skin. 

She continued this for hours, the thick paste of her blood, skin, and muscle marking her route as she went. This persisted until they reached Twilight's trademark library, by which point Pinkie's raw hip bone had been ground to the marrow. Twilight hopped off her friend, then opened her big ol doorerino.

"I'd give you some tap water but-" then Twilight closed the door to her home, not even finishing making an excuse for not inviting Pinkie inside. 

She trudged with the shit on her horn towards a door at the far end of her main library chamber, but before she reached it something else caught her eye. 

"Ooh mama's caught a big boy," she cooed as she gazed at the carcass of a dead rat, lodged distastefully beneath the metal arm of a spring-activated rat trap akin to the ones from Tom&Jerry.

Instead of using her magic, for no reason aside from personal pleasure Twilight unhooked the trap with her hooves, then gripped the dead rodent in her teeth, taking care to lick at its fur.

She carried it over to her basement door, which she had to take the shit off her head to open because of her stupid horn handle system. Once she'd opened it she carelessly spat it down the dark stairway for Spike to devour if he still possessed the will to sustain himself with food. 

Once that was through Twilight slammed the door shut and repicked the massive shit up, before walking to the door she'd previously been headed toward and stepped into the room that it guarded. 

Inside the room lay practically bare, save for a changing station, in which Twilight carefully placed the enormous shit. She stared down at it for a moment, before plunging into it headfirst.

Her forehead bounced off with a louder-than-expected 'thwack' leaving a dent which had cracks through which seeped a brownish green liquid. Twilight sucked this liquid into her mouth and swallowed greedily before headbutting the shit once again. 

While it was a trivial task for her horn to penetrate the shit, the increased surface area of her forehead made it more difficult to bust the turd open in this way. 

Eventually however, the turd gave, and Twilight breached its outer shell and sunk into the mushy depths of the colossal crap.

She bit around blindly for awhile, mashing the shit through the gaps in her teeth with her tongue, before she started to swallow. 

Once she'd half drained the shit-shell she withdrew her head and pondered for a moment. 

"This isn't any shit like I've ever eaten," she explained to nobody in particular. Certainly not You, You were just killed, "not just the taste, but the smell. The fact that I can smell this at all is very unusual. Plus based on the trajectory from Touch's house, as well as the hoofball game, this could only have flown from around the edge of the Everfree Forest."

Twilight gasped, before mashing her head back into the shit, really working it into her hair. That made perfect sense to her. Plot-related things were always happening there. The gasp wasn't from surprise, she just wanted to breathe as much of the air from the shit as she could. It was intoxicating.

Her personal happy time ended abruptly, as, in a burst of light, the biggest Pony in Equestria, with the biggest horn, the Boss Pony, materialized in the room. 

"Ah, Princess Celestia," mumbled Twilight through a mouthful of shit, "why in the flippin heck are you here?"

Twilight envied Celestia, despite her beliefs that alicorns were of a lesser, albeit objectively superior breed. Her incredible size made her the strongest and coolest person in Equestria. Twilight's own rotund figure placed her high on the pony picked a peck of pickled pecking order, but compared to Celestia she was as insignificant as any other. 

"Well I got this blank piece of parchment, so I assume your lizard ate a rat and burped on it, did you attempt to contact me?" inquired Celestia, before her eyes drifted towards the large shit in Twilight's changing station, "and while you answer me do you mind if I also swish my head around in some of that shit?"

Twilight's heart lurched, and not just because it was clogged and enlarged. 

Damn it! she thought to herself, curse your insipid existence! I'd rather die a thousand painful deaths than share a speck of that delicious, unique shit.

"But of course Princess," she choked out through grit teeth, through which oozed words that echoed the exact opposite of her sentiments. 

Immediately Celestia dove into the shit, her big stupid horn impaling the wall to which the carrying station was attached. She had her own oral/fecal ministrations. While Twilight enjoyed biting around at the excrement like a lion stripping meat from a carcass, Celestia preferred to suck the shit and store it in her cheeks, before withdrawing her head from the shot husk and spitting poop around in a sprinkler motion. She continued this throughout Twilight's explanation. 

"I was staring directly into the sun, as I often do, because while I hate stairs, I really enjoy stares, and I noticed that it had a big creepy fucking face and was laughing what's up with that Sun Lady?"

Celestia momentarily stopped spitting feces everywhere and turned to her bratty student. Streaks of brown danced elegantly across her ever-flowing mane as she spoke. 

"In truth, I seem to have lost control of the sun, I tried getting Luna to help but you know she's just...ugh. The stupidest fucking most useless idiot in the galaxy."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, I got your piece of paper and I thought, 'hey Twilight's a sciencologist, maybe she could help."

Twilight's eyes lit up. This was her chance! An opportunity to strike Celestia down and usurp her. 

"Actually I have a theory, but-"

"It's my butt isn't it?" interjected Celestia, "You need to look inside my ass, where you'll have full access to my rectal cavity: the weakest part of an alicorn's body."

Twilight was floored, she'd already been had. 

"Okay, but only because I trust you, my faithful student."

With that, Celestia turned and raised her tail, before reaching back with her front hooves and spreading her asshole like goatse.

Inside, Twilight saw what she considered to be proof of alicorn inferiority: a pile of tiny deer shits that came with having such a vulnerable colon, collecting dust like a bag of mothballs. However, she also saw something that complicated her plans just a bit.  

"That's a fucking time bomb!"





Pegasus Character panted heavily, a trail of blood stretching behind him for miles staining the clouds red as he’d crawled on his belly like a worm. Ironic for a half-bird like himself, but he ignored his pride for the sake of cold, calculated revengeance. 

    “I must reach… A main… Character,” he gasped out between breaths as he made his way towards the only one with a unique enough color scheme to be important, Rainbow Dash. Before him, stood her cloud mansion, stretching imposingly tall yet made entirely of one material like the house of a shitty Minecraft player. 

    “I have arrived!” he exclaimed, overcome with relief and glad he’d made it. He really wasn’t sure how much blood was in his body, and he’d clearly lost hella loads. He was looking more scrunched up than a tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it, or perhaps like an empty capri sun for those of you offended by cum. 

    However, it was at this point that he’d realized his situation and all of the relief he’d accumulated was released back into the atmosphere. Over 50 feet above him, Rainbow Dash’s cloud mansion hung imposingly above the rest of the town on its own cloud plateau. She was clearly too important to have a house with the rest of the common rabble, and now her importance would be Pegasus Character’s downfall. 

    “No… It’s not fair,” he sobbed, his eyes scrunching up like a tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it, or perhaps like an accordion for those of you offended by cum, voiding its liquid insides as heavily-salted tears that dropped from his face and added to the pool of rainwater that composed the cloud he stood on, about half of which was piss and shit from the ponies that lived on it. “If only I was a more important character… I’ve failed. If but my wings were functional I could succeed this challenge and be a hero. Maybe then I’d be important enough to have a name...”

    “But you are important,” said a voice from behind. Pegasus Character turned so fast he’d likely suffer neck pains from the whiplash for the rest of his life, expecting to see Rainbow Dash, ready to cheer him up(and maybe do lewd things too ;) ), but all that he saw was a tiny pony sprite. She spun care free in the air on rainbow wings, dancing in the breeze and oozing large globules of pixie dust. 

    “You’re the main character in your own story, and I think you’re wonderful,” she continued, “You’re fine just the way you are and you shouldn’t let anyone tell you to change.” 

    Pegasus Character stared at her for a few moments, before reaching forward and biting her in half. Blood dribbled down his chin as he chewed her grizzled remains between his flat, herbivore teeth, before swallowing. 

    “Aw, fresh meat,” he exclaimed, already feeling his wings healing from the healthy dose of pixie dust he’d just consumed. His neck turned back with equal speed to last time, undoing the whiplash and negating my previous statement about permanent damage as he gazed on his wonderful wings. “Praise Allah, my wings are fixed!” 

    He gave them some test flaps, happy to see that they functioned perhaps even better than they did previously, before turning back to his task at hoof (HAHA get it?). Flapping his wings like one of those things that flaps- you know the ones- he was at Rainbow Dash’s front porch in moments. 

    He landed at her front door, and was about to knock, when he stopped. “Wait, I’ve never even met Rainbow Dash before, much less an important character,” he said, exacerbating his creepy habit of talking to himself. “Gee golly I hope I don’t smell bad.”

    “Hey, Rainbow Dash, what’s up? Names Pegasus Character… Well it’s not like that’s actually my name really… No that’s lame,” he mumbled to himself. “Hey Rainbow, big fan, wanna 96? No, that’s way too forward… Damn this is hard!” Pegasus Character was horribly out of practice talking to females. In fact, the only girl who’d ever talked to him he’d ended up biting in half. 

    He sat there for over an hour, deliberating on what to say when he knocked, when he realized he didn’t even need to knock. The walls and doors were made of clouds. Since his legs were next to useless, he sat down on his bloody, raw belly and stretched his wings around, scooping large swathes of cloud wall away and tossing it over his shoulder until he’d made a pony-sized hole. 

    “Time to get laid,” he proclaimed, slicking his hair back with a wing before flying through the gap and into a massive open chamber. There was absolutely no decoration of any type in the massive cloud cavity of Rainbow’s house. She’d clearly spent all her time and effort making it large, and done nothing about the insides. Also, it’s not like you can have furniture on a cloud. That would be fucking retarded. 

    With his evolved pegasus eyes, Pegasus Character was able to spot Rainbow Dash, sleeping on a pile of clouds in the middle of the room. As he moved closer, though, he realized that she was completely naked! She was lying on her back, a line of drool running down her cheek, across her belly, and into her gaping horse pussy. 

    Pegasus Character’s little willy stabbed painfully into his stomach as it grew to an impressive one and a half inches long, threatening to burst from his sheath. “Yowie Wowie,” he exclaimed, instantly waking Rainbow Dash, who stood up and looked at him.

    “A pathetic background character, in my house?”(It’s more likely than you might think.) Rainbow sneered, the drool reversing stream from her vagina back to her mouth and pooling on her tongue, which she promptly spat across the room directly onto his face. 

    Thankful for the liquid, Pegasus Character inhaled, sucking it up. “Rainbow, I-” he started, taking a step forward.

    “Oh, you’re approaching me?” Rainbow Dash guffawed while standing on her back legs, Jo Jo posing. “Take one more step and I’ll rainbow dash up your urethra at the speed of sound and perform a sonic rainboom inside of you,” she threatened.

    "There's at least a twenty percent (cooler) chance of me enjoying that." Retorted Pegasus Character, doubting she could even pull off such a stunt. 

    “I’d be offended if you didn’t,” she admitted. 

    “Enough prattling,” he yelled, “I’m here for a very important reason.” This sudden dominant side of Pegasus Character was, dare I say, 20% cooler, and Rainbow Dash’s heart skipped a beat (likely due to steroid abuse that had led to various heart problems, including, but not limited to, heart palpitations), and she also blushed. 

    “Well duh, I’m super important, so the only reason you’d be here is for an important reason,” she flapped her eyelashes seductively, but Pegasus Character’s wee-wee had already gone flaccid now that he couldn’t see her sagging vaginal folds. 

    “A great evil hath come to Equestria, and it’s our job to stop it!” he informed her. 

“By Allah, a great evil… In all my years…” Rainbow Dash gasped.

    “And it gets worse still,” he continued, “the evil creature is some kind of large, furless skin monster.” Rainbow Dash frowned, her face scrunching up like a tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it, or perhaps like a deflated balloon for those of you offended by cum, as the very notion of a furless creature was an affront to the readers who are clearly all furries considering where they are and what they’re reading. 

    “I swear I’ll kill it with my own hooves!” she swore, swearingly. 

    “Oh yeah, also on my way here I rounded up a flock of other like-minded pegasi.” He turned and laid on his back in a clear sign of submission, presenting his vulnerable belly that had been rubbed raw on his journey as a dozen other ponies entered his hole and gathered around.

    “So where is this monstrosity?” Rainbow Dash questioned, and one of the ponies in the front row put her hand up.

    Waiting until she was acknowledged, the pony then informed everyone. “He’s in the Everfree forest below us. It would take like 15 seconds to fly there,” she explained.

    Rainbow Dash immediately voided her bowels, a gesture that helped propel her forward while also reducing her overall mass, allowing her to accelerate out of the house, punching a hole in the cloud wall and zooming towards the creature she easily spotted with her eagle-like vision. Needless to say, it took her at least 20% less than 15 seconds. 






“TUBBY CUSTARD!” bellowed Tinky Winky in a deep, eardrum-quaking tone as he and his compatriots lurched after Rufus with as much speed as they could muster.

Rufus, in turn, was running for his life, something he felt great shame for. He was a spy, and a hyper intelligent apex predator, not some prey to be devoured like he had devoured those rabbits and that hamb(not ham). His little legs were feeling a little sore too, the poor dear had been running all dagnab day, and he was getting plumb tuckered.

In contrast, the Teletubbies couldn’t have been more well-rested, having just awoken from a multi-millennial power nap.

Still, their stubby little midget legs, and the colossal weight of the You that they’d gorged themselves upon kept them slow enough that Rufus could just barely outpace their footfalls with his own. The dull rumble of the ground and static hiss of their tummy screens only a dozen steps behind kept him spurred on despite his growing fatigue, however.

“Are you absolutely positive you’ve got no energon left?” Panted the mole rat to his centipede pal.

“Not a damn drop.” replied Ots’ethe emphatically, “unless you’d like to try and steal one of their vaginas.”

Rufus wasn’t one for suicide missions, but he also wasn’t one for dying in non-suicide related incidents. Dying in general really- Rufus didn’t care for it. That said, the Teletubbies weren’t giving him much choice, what with their seemingly endless hunger and drive to consume or destroy any creatures that moved. He’d have to engineer some kind of escape plan.

“Think...think...think…” Rufus grunted as he supercharged his brain, hoping to brain blast his way to a cool idea. Instead, a different blast, definitely not one associated with brains, reverberated loudly throughout the forest, as a gargantuan flash of multicolored light filled the sky, momentarily even eclipsing the laughing baby sun with its own intense prismatic shine. Both Rufus and the Teletubbies gave up their game of cat and mouse and craned their necks upward.

“There you are,” came a raspy, irritating voice from above, “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Rufus barely paid the voice any mind, instead opting to continue formulating an escape plan. Surely the voice had been looking for the tubbies or the centipede, after all, he didn’t know ANYBODY in this world besides a chupacabra and a zebra, neither of whom had such ear-piercing voices.

The source of the voice, a blue pegasus with a rainbow mane, hovered ever closer to the object of her attention, which, surprise surprise, DID happen to be Rufus.

“You! What the heck is your frickin’ problem?” she screamed.

Rufus was, again nonplussed, which was unusual, as after last time, he was sure he’d been more careful with his plusses.

“Meeee?” cried Rufus as he looked around for some plusses.

“Stop looking for plusses and explain yourself! A nameless freak told me he saw you destroy an entire city block and kill like, at least twenty (percent cooler) pegasi.”

“Ah, that wasn't my fault, see an evil scientist was threateni-”

“Tubby custard!” Interrupted Po, rolling her eyes as she had to explain for the umpteenth time.

“What the heck are these things?” inquired Rainbow Dash, as the four hulking figures trudged toward her, eventually surrounding her on all sides.

Rufus didn’t bother answering. Instead, he took advantage of the tubbies’ shifted focus, scurrying off into the underbrush so he could watch the unfolding carnage from a safe distance. Fear them though he might, Rufus couldn’t miss a classic evisceration.

“Tubby custard! Tubby custard!” They demanded as they jumped up and down.

“I don’t know what that is,” responded Rainbow Dash plainly.

At this, the Teletubbies shifted their expressions from mere irritation to ones of unyielding rage. Each one pawed out, clutching Rainbow Dash by a different atrophied limb. In unison they yanked, tearing her limbs off in four simultaneous wet rips, sending her spinning through the air like a zero-gravity Beyblade. When she righted herself with her powerful wings, she turned to the horde of hungry teddy bear alien things.

“Wow, thanks, I’ve been meaning to get rid of those dead weights,” said Rainbow Dash earnestly, having long since abandoned walking as a form of travel. Her wings were so unbelievably strong that she was capable of flying for several days at a time, while the rest of her had shriveled to the point where she’d started to resemble the Pokemon Togetic; a mere ovular facsimile of a body attached to enormous wings.

She zoomed skyward towards her pegasus squad, who had just arrived behind her, lacking anywhere near enough speed to truly keep up. Some college idiot did a powerpoint seven years ago claiming she could fly at like mach 12 or some bullshit, so yeah. 

“Hey guys, it’s all totally cool, those weird creatures just ripped all my legs off.”

“So the profuse bleeding isn’t a problem?” asked Pegasus Character.

Rainbow Dash hadn’t considered that. She looked down, and saw that her once-blue coat had mixed with her red blood, making her purple, and NOT in a good way. She swiftly lost consciousness, plummeting to the ground at an elevated speed, thanks to the fact that her legs being gone made her more aerodynamic.

Her little squad dove as fast as they could, but she drifted ever further from them, and ever closer to the ground at the speed of one whole gravity. With a wet ‘splat’ she collided with a rock jutting out from the grass, the tortilla-like skin under her fur shredded immediately as her body did its best imitation of a water balloon, but full of vital goo instead of water! The previously-rainbow mane for which the pegasus was named for, still intact as it detached from her rent corpse, became dangerously monochrome as her oily red innards dyed everything in a 10 foot radius. 

Tinky Winky, the biggest and strongest, had first dibs on the paste. He turned and looked over the other teletubbies with crazed eyes, almost hoping they’d be foolish enough to disobey his authority, before he waddled over to the corpse. Bending down he swabbed his paw on the soaked stone, sponging up the red goop, before placing it in his mouth and suckling gently. He sampled it for a few moments, acquiring the taste through the scabs that coated most of his tongue, and as he absorbed Rainbow Dash’s soul through her desecrated remains, her memories began playing through the screen on his tummy. 

The other teletubbies gathered around and watched, clapping and laughing at the horse’s stupid antics, thoroughly entertained by the bright, pastel colors, and talking horses on screen like a bunch of braindead man-children. Meanwhile the pegasi in the air watched on in absolute horror, all too surprised to make a move, which would prove to be their downfall. Within moments of consuming the filthy substance, Tinky Winky retched, realizing that this was NOT tubby custard. He furrowed his brow, and gazed irately like a gamer at the now low-hovering group of pegasi. 

“TUBBY CUSTARD!” He screamed, his normally deep, rumbly voice now a shrill shriek. Quick as a whip crack sound from Johnny Test, a veritable geyser of putrid brown liquid gushed forth from Tinky Winky’s mouth. The caustic goo soared through the air, sloshing with the force of a fire hose at the flying gaggle of horse-geese. 

Hurriedly they all rushed upward, but only half of the pegasi were spared. The rest were doused in the deluge, their elegant feathers being slathered with a thick grime that completely mitigated their ability to create lift. They flopped to the ground unimpressively, where Tinky Winky was waiting.

Standing above them imposingly like Grimace from McDonalds lore, he placed one foot on the leg of a single trapped pegasus, before applying weight, crunching it into jelly. The pony screeched, her head turning 360 degrees as agony surged through her. Tinky Winky guffawed, and began mashing the pony’s body with his big, bare feet, converting the pony bit by bit into a paste not-unlike applesauce. The other teletubbies chuckled in glee as they watched him work, mashing from hoof to head to ensure as much suffering as possible. 

“Tubby Custard!” said Tinky Winky triumphantly as he stomp-danced on the pile of goo, before sweeping large globs of it into the red bag he kept with him always.

Impressed, but not one to be outdone, Dipsy moved over to the closest downed Pegasus, his outlandishly thicc thighs clapping together with each step and causing the now-still pool of Rainbow Dash’s blood to vibrate. All eyes were on him, the other teletubbies admiring his mcnuggies, while the ponies starred in terror. The nearest one began begging, attempting to crawl away like a worm, but the vomit that coated him held him fast against the grass, his skin turning raw and red as the weak enzymes from Tinky Winky’s secondary stomach started their work, but this was ignored in favor of the monstrosity that approached.

“Tubby Custard!” Dipsy announced as he jumped onto the pony’s body with earth-shattering force, mulching most of the pony’s innards and causing intestines to spew from between his green toes and fly off in all directions like a can of snakes. The ground rumbled as he did a dance on the poor pony, burying the goopy remains in the dirt, the only evidence that this pony ever lived at all being the blood that stained between Dipsy’s toes like scum, even now being supped by dozens of flies that coated his feet like slippers.

Laa-laa danced over towards the next pegasi, her graceful steps and friendly smile betraying her true intentions as she began tap dancing on the pony- this one a boy-’s measly dick. I know what you’re thinking, “wow, I wish a cute yellow children’s-show character would step on my dick”, but this aint your Grandma’s cock and ball torture!

With precise but devastating steps, Laa-laa’s sausage-like toes compressed the pony’s dick into a two-dimensional object. Then, with magnificent footwork, she simultaneously pressed down on both testacles, popping them like grapes as all the pee that was stored up inside squirted out into a nearby pony’s eyes. Even that not enough to stop her from staring at the terrible fate of her friend, a distraction that prevented her from noticing Po’s approach until it was too late. 

Po cartwheeled onto the prone pony, her already-red feet being applied with a fresh coat of paint as she began fortnite dancing. She did the floss, then that one from Scrubs, before ending with a dab. By this point the pony was thoroughly trampled, leaving not even eyeballs and entrails for the ravens who watched from the nearby trees, licking their lips in anticipation for the coming meal, but instead a glossy pool of flattened gibs. 

Each pegasus had to watch the one before them suffer and die, and for the fifth pegasus, our beloved friend Pegasus Character, it was simply too much.

Unable to take his life any other way thanks to the immobilizing tubby paste, and fearing a gruesome stomp death, Pegasus Character bit off his own tongue and let it fall into his throat. His body reflexively gagged and coughed, blood filling his mouth, but he was unable to dislodge the rent organ. As he faded slowly to unconsciousness via a lack of oxygen, the last thing he saw were Tinky Winky’s dirty feet, and the last thing he thought about was licking them clean.

The half dozen pegasi who’d managed to fly above the vomit-cannon held a moment of silence for Pegasus Character, the most relatable and well-developed character in the entire story.

“I can’t believe that guy’s dead,” muttered Ots’ethe through grit maxillipeds and teary eyes.

“He was the one pony I was hoping would survive,” agreed Rufus, “I’ve lost some incredible friends today. Hopefully he and Cool Rat are doing things that pertain to their interests together in heaven.” 

While the teletubbies ground the grounded ponies into the ground, Dipsy stepped forward and looked up at the remaining group of pegasi who’d dared deny them their tubby custard. For any normal Teletubby, reaching those creatures would require an annoying amount of effort. For him, well, it was as easy as eating a big bowl of tubby custard.

He placed his nubby thumb in his disgusting mouth, and blew as hard as he could, his cute cheeks puffing up and turning redder than Po, whom he hoped to impress with this display.

His head-doodle wiggled for a moment, then stretched upward at a speed so fast it required motion blur to maintain its framerate, giving some readers motion sickness. In an instant it speared through the delicate rib cage of one of the nameless pegasi, who may or may not have personalities. Probably not. It died in moments as its heart was ruptured, and its limp body slid down Dipsy’s horn, staining it just as red as Po’s thick cheeks, before landing with a plop on his head. Like an Indian chieftain, he’d wear the corpse as headwear until the flies picked it clean over the next couple of days, leaving only the feathers.

The display worked just as intended, Po gazing at the events unfolding before her with lustful glee. 

“Tubby custard?” Po asked through half-lidded eyes.

“Tubby custard.” cooed Dipsy.

That was just too much for Po, who was overcome by arousal. She shoved her paw between her legs, violently rubbing her swiftly moistening Telepussy, depraved pornographic images flashing rapidly on her screen in a seizure-inducing strobe.

Rufus glared at the bright red vagina from his hiding space.

“Ots’ethe I think I have an idea, how long does the transvaginator take to steal a vagina?” Po’s gaping, saggy pussy would fit nicely onto his own wrinkled groin.

“Gosh, like two full minutes, it’s ridiculous.” 

Rufus facepalmed. “Nevermind.”

Fed up with watching the massacre, one of the pegasi finally worked up the gal to strike back against these beasts. She wasn’t about to let them win, or get away with these atrocities. “Come on guys and gals,” she rallied, “let’s show these bullies what for! Who’s with me?!”

The other pegasi, spurred on by the power of friendship, and perhaps magic, but mostly friendship, cheered in unison. Millions of years of evolution as a prey species allowing them to easily forget the brutality they’d just witnessed and they formed into a tight group. 

“Friendship diiiive!” she yelled, so close to becoming a main character it was scary! 

Not close enough, however. As they approached, Po leaned her head down in the throws of ecstacy, sticking her bubble-blower head-diddly into a nearby pool of pulped viscera before rapidly swinging it back, creating a huge red bubble which careened towards the formation of pegasi. It hit them head on, popping and scattering them like a bunch of bowling pins. 

The Teletubbies danced, celebrating her strike as dazed ponies rained down around them. After a few moments, they gathered the little, colorful horses in a small pile between them, towering over the group like the walls of a cage. 

As the ponies snapped back to reality, they were met with the sight of the four juggernauts who were gagging and retching. 

“What are they doing?” one of the ponies questioned, only for the answer to present itself as Laa-laa heaved a torrent of pinkish bile which spilled all over the pony’s face. She gasped in surprise for a moment, the vomit getting into her open eyes and mouth, before screaming. The stomach acid melted through her eyes and deliquessed her tongue. Her fur fell away in wet clumps, the skin where the acid made contact becoming more tender than pulled pork, and it simply slid off her bones into a pile. Her screaming became a strangled moan as her throat filled with a frothing mixture chyme and liquified flesh and her jaw pitched away into the growing pile of dissolved flesh that had become her. 

Before the other ponies could so much as begin farting the alphabet, a trio of similar torrents of vile chyme rained over the assembled group. Their death throws did little but excite the teletubbies who had begun circle jerking, getting off while watching the pegasi melt and fuse together into a growing pile of orangish gelatin-like goo.
Tinky Winky, despite his impressive bulk, had the stamina of a 12 year-old girl, and he blew his load over the acidic mess, releasing half a liter of black liquid chocked full of flesh-eating sperm from the nozzle-like head of his 19-inch throbbing purple dick. It too had a triangular diddly on its head, and, were you to graft wings to the shaft, it could easily pass for a 1-eyed, 1-horned, flying, purple people eater. With a sigh of relief, him and the other tubbies pulled straws from the little compartment below their screens and began slurping up the remains. 

“Tubby Custard,” Dipsy exclaimed, as if to say ‘now that’s what I call tubby custard!’

“Tubby Custard,” Po agreed, who loved Tubby Custard most of all. 

At this point, their tummy screens which had been flicking through pornography returned to their regularly-scheduled broadcasts of dark imagery and gore, showing a direct link to the twisted planes from which the Tubbies had been spawned.

At this point, Rufus had seen enough, and snuck away into the woods. He’d be sure to steer well clear of that hill as he made his way towards the smoke on the horizon. 

If you’ve been paying attention, they only killed 11 random ponies though, when supposedly a dozen ponies had shown up to help Rainbow Dash. This is important! Don’t forget this!
> The Little Penis That Could II: Epileptic Boogerflute (Remastered in 1080p, 60fps and ribbed for your pleasure)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

With nothing to do once his girlfriend, Applejack, had gone back to work, Touch Down had spent several hours walking in circles in town square. He couldn’t go home as the smell of shit and dead dog permeated the air and left him with a strange feeling: sadness. Though the more pressing concern was that he couldn’t quite remember where his house was. 

After a while, other ponies started taking notice, and being the single-minded herd creatures they are, began following him. Eventually, he had a couple dozen ponies doing circles in front of Town Hall, and the staff inside had taken notice.

Mayor Mare let the blind snap shut as she pulled her hoof away, having watched the growing group of ponies on her doorstep with a sense of dread. She pulled at her collar, loosening it, noting that it had gotten very hot in her office. 

“Secretary,” she called her secretary, “have they given any demands yet?” 

A large bead of sweat rolled down her forehead dropping from the neanderthal-esque slope of her chiseled brow. The salty orb rotated in midair for a fraction of a second before being caught on the tip of her secretary’s long, prehensile tongue as she stepped into the office. It wouldn’t do for her to sweat on the floor, after all. That would stain the carpet. 

“No, your mayorness. They’re just rotating menacingly…” The secretary, a young brown girl pony with a secretary for a cutie mark replied. 

“This is bad,” Mayor Mare replied, turning back to the window, “Ponyville has never had a strike before. I don’t know what they want, but this could very well be the end of my career…” she glanced sidelong at the noose that hung ominously in the corner, wondering if today was the day she’d finally be taking the old girl for a spin. “If they come asking for blood, we have countermeasures in place,” she finished offhoofedly.

“That we do,” her secretary agreed, glancing at her own noose in the corner in the waiting room outside the mayor’s office. 

“Indeed,” nodded her page as he looked at the frayed, shitty noose they’d hung up for him. Heck, the thing was so flimsy you probably couldn’t even hang a puppy! “Also I’ve identified the mob’s ring leader.”

The two female ponies turned and looked at the young, teenage intern pony, his face covered in horse acne. “It’s Touch Down. The other ponies seem to be following him.”

“Touch Down, of course!” Mayor Mare practically yelled. Then literally yelled a few moments later, “TOUCH DOWN, OF COURSE!” 

“Isn’t he that huge hunk Hoofegg player that got dishonorably discharged from the league after losing his first-ever game today?” The secretary questioned, though it was rhetorical as every pony is Ponyville stops all work to watch Hoofegg games on their HV. 

“Indeed,” Mayor Mare answered regardless, “I bet that’s why he’s protesting. He wants a job!”

“Wow, you’re so smart!” The secretary praised, practically gushing. She’d have gone down on the mayor right then and there, had Mayor Mare not been castrated when she ran for office. It’s illegal for Men, inferior as they are, to hold seats of power in Equestria, after all, and she’d had an artificial Vagina grafted to the stump her old genitals had occupied. 

“That I am,” the Mayor agreed, “now then, let’s get to work. We may be able to save my career yet!”

Meanwhile, outside, Touch Down had lost track of how many circles he’d made. To be fair, though, that just means he’s done more than two rotations. Either way, he was beginning to wonder if perhaps he should start doing something different, when the doors to the Town Hall burst open and confetti shot out, alerting the small crowd who was following him. 

The Secretary and Page emerged on either side, trumpets in hoof, and they blew a pair of out-of-tune notes to announce the Mayor’s arrival. As if summoned by the instruments, Mayor Mare emerged from the building a moment later and walked up to the podium. 

“Umph-hum,” she cleared her throat into the microphone, “is this thing on?” She tapped it a few times, resulting in a booming from the speakers which turned into feedback. After several moments it quieted, though, and she addressed the assembled crowd. 

“Ponies of Ponyville, I come to you with excellent news,” she preambled, looking down at her notecards her resident Jew had worked up for her. “After the tragedy that befell our good friend Touch Down this morning, we’ve decided to offer him a job! There’s absolutely no reason to panic, or riot, or demand my head,” she nervously glanced over at the 15-foot tall guillotine that loomed ominously over the podium. 

The whole crowd cheered and danced, throwing up their own confetti before dispersing and heading home, leaving Touch Down alone. The Mayor stepped down from the podium and walked over to the gigantic dark-brown pony also known as Touch Down. 

“Hey page!” she yelled. The teenage pony came over, a bit shaky at being this close to an HV celebrity. “You’re to help Touch Down get a job. Don’t return until you’re done. Also pick up my dry-cleaned collars and bow ties on your way back.” she ordered before turning and walking back into the Town Hall. Her Secretary was right behind her, and slammed the doors shut, leaving the two ponies standing awkwardly in the middle of the square. 

A few moments of silence passed before the page coughed into his hoof. “So, uh, Mr. Touch Down. I guess I’m here to help you get a job… So, ummm, what do you like?” 

Touch Down contemplated this for a few moments, the fans that helped cool his brain when it processed large amounts of information became audible as they spun up, and he came up with an answer. “Puppies,” he remarked. He couldn’t quite remember why, but the thought of puppies made him both happy and sad at the same time. Having two emotions at once was using up extra processing power, putting unnecessary stress on Touch Down’s body and causing him to get diarrhea. 

His tummy rumbled, and he groaned as pressure built in his intestines, filling them like a clown’s twisted balloon. “Fart,” he commanded, and his body released the pressure in a series of flatulent bursts, the brass bass of his expulsed gas like a siren foreshadowing the town’s coming destruction. After a dozen staccato bursts, his anus percolated the last and loudest anal exhale which dimenuendoed before cutting off sharply. 

The page clapped, impressed by Touch Down’s talent before pulling up a clipboard. “If you like puppies, perhaps we can start here,” he said, skimming through the list of job openings. “Fluttershy’s house has an opening for taking care of animals since she hasn’t been back since this morning.”

Touch Down only caught about half of that. Despite his posterior outburst, his innards were still writhing, and it took most of his considerable body control to not outright shit himself. He simply nodded, and the Page lead the way towards the outskirts of town. 

There they arrived at a run-down home. Judging by the smell, the building was clearly inhabited by rats, and as they neared they saw dozens of small animals clawing frantically at the windows, clearly trying to escape the hot interior. Without Fluttershy to feed them, they would surely starve. As they neared the building, Touch Down accidently stepped in something. 

He wrinkled his nose, thinking it was probably shit, but after looking down he realized it was just a little white bunny. The weight of his capped appendages had crushed the little creature like a teletubby crushing a pony, leaving a stick film of red sludge on him. He turned and wiped it off in the grass before moving up to the page. 

"You've already got population control down." remarked the page, again impressed, "Fluttershy was a complete pussy, that rabbit basically ran her life and just scurried around fucking everything. If you could mash twenty more into paste by the end of the tour you'll get a headstart on the cull."


Touch couldn't make out a full sentence of that schpiel. He understood a few words, mostly the three-letter ones, but stringing them together and processing them was ridiculously overtaxing. His body, however, honed from years of positive reinforcement from his hoofball coaches, understood this as some form of praise. Working in reverse order to how a nervous system operates, his body sent a thought up his nerves and to his brain."

stomp bunny

It took a second for this thought to manifest itself in Touch's mouth, but eventually he uttered the command his body had sent to his brain. 

"Stomp," he said. 

If it were capable, his muscles probably would have rolled their eyes and said "yeah, no shit we told you that, you retard, you fucking giant idiot."

Instead, they sarcastically moved his body, stomping his feet for him as they propelled his incredible mass forward at great speed. 

With the slightest touch of Touch Down’s side, the page was flung away into the bushes like a used tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it, his body obliterating a bird’s nest and its cargo of little, blue treats in the process. As the yellowish amniotic fluid from the eggs seeped onto his skin, his acne was immediately cured.

Touch Down continued unabated, and like the fucking Juggernaut, he slammed straight through the front door, pulverizing wood and animals too slow to flee alike. His collision sent splinters flying into the building, peppering a dozen critters and resounding in pained squeals, and the shockwave from his entrance rumbled through the walls, causing the nearby window panes to explode in a hail of glass. His tummy grumbled more angrily this time, revealing that despite his best efforts, he wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer. 

Unfortunately, with his horribly-blurred vision, he couldn’t tell a snack pack from a deer track, much less the bathroom from the rest of the house. He yelled, septic rage running through his system. His face turned red, huge veins bulging from his neck and he clenched up like a tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it. He bellowed an inhuman screech that sounded like the thing from Steven Spielberg's hit movie, ‘The Thing’, and the hundreds of small animals in the room froze up in shock, stopping their frantic evasion as an alpha stood over them. 

Touch Down had only moments, and he used them wisely, turning 180 degrees to be sure the house would contain what was coming. “RAAAAGGHH!” He raged, a blood vessel popping in his left eye as his colon finished pumping up like a super soaker, and he sprayed an unholy torrent of greenish-brown filth from his rear with all the force of a firehose. The concentrated stream of diarrhea tore across the room, splitting into a deluge that punched holes in walls, furniture, and flesh alike. The thrust this created was even too much for a muscular hulk like Touch Down to control, and his ass ocellated like a sprinkler, leaving not an inch of the house’s interior untouched as his leg caps dug furrows into the wooden floor. 

As quickly as it came, it was over, and as the last trickle of feces pitter pattered from his under-tail(Not to be confused with Steven Spielberg's hit game, ‘Undertale’) hole, Touch Down gave his body the command it was waiting for. “Sigh,” and it did, his muscles unclenching and firing one last involuntary squirt through the last remaining support beam on the ground level of the cottage. 

The house collapsed around him, but bug-infested as the masonry was, it was hardly dense enough to even so much as scratch Touch Down, who simply walked out of the ruin before the dust even settled. 

The Page had just finished extracting himself from the bush when Touch Down walked over to him, expectantly. The Page admired his charge’s handiwork, checking a few notes onto his clipboard. “Impressive work! Fluttershy’s job was simply to contain the many wild animals that wander in from the nearby woods, but you’ve surpassed her in every way. Perhaps it’s fate that she disappeared a few hours ago so you were able to achieve this monumental achievement. If only she were here to admire your excellence.” He gushed quite literally, saliva dripping from every orifice. 

Once again, Touch Down didn’t understand a word of the drivel coming from the smaller pony’s mouth, but he could tell he was being praised again, and he beamed a smile with less teeth than I have tissues left to cum into. 

The Page wandered over and inspected the wreckage, only risking a few moments before the ungodly stench forced him to retreat, but he’d seen enough. “Not a chance anything could have survived that,” he admitted. “Well, Mr. Touch Down, as much as I’d love to award you an official certificate of pony employment, it seems this job position is no longer required for the time being.” He reached into his tail compartment and produced a small pile of copper bits and slipped them into Touch Down’s mouth-- which he promptly swallowed-- before continuing. “Your pay, 6 copper bits.” 

Accounting for inflation, that was enough to buy 1-2 hard candies at the general store, or perhaps an entire hoof-full of dirt if you haggled. Touch Down continued to stare at him, and as the pony was about to turn away to return to his normal job, he stopped. 

“What? It couldn’t be that you’re not satisfied?” 

Touch kept staring. Truthfully, he had no idea where he was, and couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here. 

Seeing the big horse’ resolve, The Page looked back at his clipboard, trying to find another position the ex-HoofEgg superstar could fill (Not quarterback or receiver xD). His eyes fell onto one as a seamstress’ assistant in Carousel Boutique, and he nodded his head. “How about this?” 

He brought his little clipboard up to Touch's wrinkly face, pointing with a horse-finger to the position in question. Touch Down looked at the clipboard, recognizing it immediately. This was the thing his coaches pointed at sometimes. This complete stranger must be his new coach! He was trying to make a play!

He couldn't make out a  thing on the actual clipboard, partially due to his blurred vision from CTE, but mostly because he's fucking retarded. Barreling forward like a wild boar was standard protocol on the hoofegg field though. Touch felt completely comfortable for the first time in hours. 

"Charge, please." Touch Down implored, finally showing his own muscles some fucking respect for once. 

His body carried out the request with gusto, launching himself directly forward, in the direction of Ponyville, but also coincidentally in the exact Direction of Carousel Boutique. The Page was, of course, also in front of Touch Down, though certainly not for long. In real time he was pasted immediately, but in slow motion, his demise was much more gruesome.

Thanks to the speed at which Touch launched himself forward, as well as his hearty constitution, he encountered no resistance as his chest collided with the face of the much shorter Pony in his path. The Page hadn't the time to process or react in any sense of the word. As Touch moved forward, he flattened any piece of the Page he came into contact with, in a process that went from nose-to-tail. The Page essentially crushed in on himself like a soda can, or perhaps more like a tissue after I've finished cumming into it. His liquefied remains shot behind Touch like a mach cone, splattering everywhere. The clipboard however, remained amazingly intact, stuck to his chest by the force of his own forward momentum. 

Touch processed none of this, nor any of the other ponies he completely pasted on his path towards Carousel Boutique, which he arrived at within a couple minutes. Of course it wasn't his intended destination, merely the direction he'd happened to run, so he blasted through the door like an Israeli bullet through the head of an innocent Palestinian child, or perhaps even far more accurately, like my cum into a tissue. 

He hurtled through the building amidst the splintering wreckage of the door he'd exploded, ultimately crashing into the far wall. Finally he'd come into contact with something strong enough to halt his forward momentum.

"You've got a lot of nerve appearing out of nowhere and destroying my belongings," chastised a voice just outside of Touch's line of sight. It sounded like the annoying voice of a stupid bitch, laced with arrogance, and just a little accusatory. Still though, a stranger did just commit breaking and entering followed by vandalism, so give her a fucking break. 

Touch didn't process what she was saying, there were three three syllable words too many for there to be any hope of that. Still, he knew the sound of anger, and this was definitely it. 

"Sorry," muttered Touch, though he didn't know what he was apologizing for. 

"Sorry doesn't fix my door," the posh Pony replied, "heavens sake, what are you even doing here anyway?"

Touch scrambled to his feet.

"Shrug." stated Touch Down,and his body shrugged, expressing a feeling with which he was all too familiar: confusion. 

The pony, who if you haven't figured out by now is Rarity then what the fuck is wrong with you idiot, sighed, before she noticed a clipboard among the wreckage. This wasn't her clipboard. She could tell because it wasn't adorned with a bunch of stupid trinkets and ribbons and shit.

She levitated it up to her face with her horse witchcraft, quickly skimming the little paper clipped inside. 

"Ah, I totally forgot I even submitted for an assistant. I've just been slaving my daughter Sweetly Bells." 

She then looked to Touch Down. 

"Still though, I'd love to work with a famous hoofegg player...but you're Applejack's boyfriend," she wrinkled her brow, like my balls wrinkle as I cum into a tissue, "but you did fuck that dead body on HV, maybe you have an open relationship."

She licked her lips at the prospect of taking Touch's three and a half inch cock for a mind-blowing twenty-eight seconds. That was the second-longest fucktime in Equestrian history, and the second was a myth, of unbelievable proportions. Speaking of unbelievable proportions, she was absolutely fixated on the pectoral delight that stood motionless before her. It was getting harder to be upset about that door. 

"A thought occurs," she mumbled dimly, "all I've ever seen from you is freakish displays of speed and strength. That's all very sexy but sewing is a delicate art, not fit for such brutal domination."

"I think instead of trying to get you to sew I'll keep doing what I've been doing and just have Sweetly Bells do it." Rarity then called out for her daughter, "Sweetly Bells! Chop chop, and mommy makes pork chops!"

"Coming, my mothaaah!" came a raspy, wet shriek from somewhere in the house. 

Rarity turned happily toward the open doorway that lead into her kitchen, through which waddled her beloved little daughter. 

"W-what do you require mothahhh?" she barely burped through her sagging lips. It wasn't just her lips though, indeed her entire body "sagged." Her skin didn't wrinkle, rather it drooped in separate layers that were wrinkle-esque, but much too deep, more akin to a roll of fat, though that description was indeed also partially incorrect. She wasn't fat, that was plain to see from the visibility of her spine, which bowed sharply in the middle like a rope bridge bearing too much weight. Her hip bones and the vertebrae up the back of her neck jutted out jaggedly as well. She looked like both a blob and a skeleton. 

"Make a couple dresses for mommy please, and I'll make you delicious pork chops."

Sweetly's normally half-lidded eyes slid open all the way, and her lips curved upward, in a manner that could almost be described as smiling.

She scampered over to a single dingy sewing machine, which sat next to a tripod-display which bore the blueprints of Rarity's latest fashion masterpiece. In an instant she memorized the image and destroyed it, ensuring only she and Rarity could ever know the design before completion and release. Although now that there wasn't a door anyone could just walk in after she finished one dress and kill her, steal the dress, replicate it, and make millions of Kronor, I mean bits. 

"I actually do have a job for you, big boy," Rarity said as she lead Touch Down through her kitchen towards the backdoor of her house. 

She pushed it open, leading outdoors. Her backyard was surprisingly large, and in the middle rested a colossal mud puddle, which housed several happy pigs, who sloshed about with glee, protecting themselves from the harsh rays of the creepy baby sun.

"I usually have to do this part myself, but I saw on that clipboard you managed to kill every animal Fluttershy was assigned in an astonishing amount of time," she gushed, gazing into Touch's eyes, which were blanker than a canvas at the start of a Bob Ross video. Through this she realized he wasn't processing a single word coming out of her mouth, "uhhh, simply put, kill pigs, get sex."

Kill pigs, get sex. Finally Rarity was speaking Touch Down's language: sentence fragments comprised of one-syllable words. 

Touch grinned. He knew how to kill. He knew what pigs were. He definitely knew what sex was. This wasn't an order that fell in line with his hoofegg-oriented lifestyle, but it was one he could carry out with ease nonetheless.

"Stomp pigs." Commanded Touch Down. 

Immediately his horse feet began stomping with the force of a hydraulic press, sinking several inches into the dirt through sheer power alone. He dashed forward as he did so, leaving a trail of holes perfectly punched into the ground behind him as he approached the cute, happy little pigs. Naturally,as pigs do, they looked at the loud, lumbering giant before them and got scared, opting to sprint away as fast as their stubby legs could take them. 

Of course it was all for naught. Touch was certainly faster than any pig. Soon enough he'd caught up to one of them, and his hooves stomped through its entire body, encountering little resistance even from its hearty skeleton. It punched the hole cleanly, to the point of artificiality. Were an autopsy to be performed on the pig, they would most likely assume the hole too perfect to be made by any living creature. They'd deduce it to be the work of some horrifying machine. 

Such was the frightening precision with which Touch carried out his brutal assignment,not stopping until the pigs were all dead, and his legs were stained red.

Rarity was gushing, this time from her big pussy instead of her big mouth. 

"My word you are something extraordinary," she practically moaned as Touch walked toward her with a smirk on his face, like he'd just scored a touchdown.

"Sex." Touch replied, his gargantuan three and a half inch wiener bulging confident beneath him. 

"After pork chops," replied Rarity, but Touch hadn't been talking to her. He'd been talking to his own body, which wasn't particularly interested in "after pork chops."

In an instant Rarity was underneath Touch. She felt small. 

"Hey now, I understand your eagerness but Sweetly NEEDS those pork chops" Rarity pleaded. But Touch doesn't know what "pleaded" means. 

Holding Rarity in place effortlessly with a single foreleg, Touch heaved forward as hard as he possibly could. The sound that accompanied their bodies meeting at the genitalia was not the gentle "slap" one would expect from new-found lovers, but rather a bone-chilling "clack," like two rocks smashing into each other. 

Rarity's vision was speckled with purple dots, and her breath caught short for a few seconds. It felt like she'd been hit in the pelvis by a sledgehammer. So great was the pain, she couldn't even register the fact that a penis was inside her at all. One thrust had almost caused her to pass out. 

Unfortunately for her, she was going to have to withstand at least another twenty-eight full seconds of thrusting at an average rate of twenty thrusts a second. 

"gaaaauuugghh," gurgled Rarity as shock and pain took possession of her faculties. Her tailbone had already been pounded into gravel. 

Twenty-five seconds to go. 

The "clacking" sound from earlier was louder and more frequent than before, but it was accompanied by various creaks and cracklings, which only amplified with every thrust. 

For a few seconds, the force of Touch's humping chipped off pieces of Rarity's hip, either lodging somewhere in her flesh, or occasionally popping through the skin and dropping to the floor. 

Twenty seconds left. 

By now Rarity had lost control of her bowels, and Touch grunted with appreciation as he felt his pubic area being coated in a pleasing blanket of the pretty mare's shit. He loved it when Applejack did this. Applejack was strong though, built like a tank. Her life consisted of waking up early in the morning to kick trees all day, and as a result she unarguably had the strongest hips in all of Equestria. Perhaps the only hips tough enough for Touch to have sex with without crippling for life. 

Rarity, by comparison, may as well have had hips made of balsa wood. 

With a sickening "crunch" her hipbone split in half, and Rarity flopped to the ground, or she would have were Touch not holding her up and fucking her to death. 

Instead, she stayed where she was, except now she had a broken hip, which was only getting worse as Touch Down crushed and crushed. Soon enough her hip was in three pieces, then four, then eight, and so on until it was a bag of calcium-rich dust. 

Finally, Touch Down reached his climax, blasting spray after spray of watery, yellow semen onto his partner, which punished the room with its repugnant odor. 

By the end of the thirty seconds, Rarity's entire mass had been reduced to a limp, leaking sack of jagged gravel, akin to a beanbag chair. With her white-furred skin roiling amorphously around the dusted bones and misplaced organs within, she looked almost like a wadded up tissue, right after I've finished cumming into it.
> A bomb? In my asshole? It's more likely than you might think.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Yep, that’s definitely a bomb,” Twilight confirmed for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. She’d spent this time staring intently into Celestia’s gaping anal cavity, commiting its every nook and cranny(more like fanny xD) to memory. With her PHD in both gynecology and Bombs, she hardly needed such an indepth look, and had already confirmed beyond a shadow-of-a-doubt what the object was, but she’d be remiss to waste such an opportunity to scout out her main adversary for complete domination of the pony regimen. 

“Are you gonna be all day?” Celestia questioned, even with her near-godly colon control, her innards were starting to dry up like a week-old tissue I’ve cummed into not once but twice due to a shortage of said tissues. “Is it a bomb or not?”

“It’s a bomb alright,I even already fucking said that.” Twilight Sparkle, purple pony, and also a female AND Princess Celestia’s protege replied. 

“But just to be sure, I’d better clean some of this debris to get a better look.” No way was she going to pass up a chance to consume Celestia’s shit for a change. Usually, it was the other way around. 

Twilight procured a polished mahogany box from under her bed via her really awesome magical powers which she has. She’s also THE Element of Magic and there’s 5 other Elements; Honesty, Kindness, Generosity, Friendship, and Rainbows, not necessarily in that order, though. With all six elements combined they could shoot a sonic rainboom that could turn even a chaos GOD to stone. Pretty sweet, right? 

She opened the box with magic, and pulled out one of her key feces-consuming implements: A plastic bendy straw. She bent the tip with magic as she lined it up with Celestia’s asshole, and the telltale crinkling of plastic drew Celestia’s attention. 

“Was that a plastic bendy straw I heard?” she questioned, “I thought those were outlawed.”

“Only in the state of Califormareia where they’re known to cause cancer.” Twilight explained, always full of knowledge like the EGGHEAD that she is, but not literally. Were her head literally an egg, it would have certainly cracked open on one of her many dangerous adventures. No doubt the end result of such a catastrophe would be Twilight's brains getting slurped up by a struthiomimus. 

“But I thought they killed sea turtles too,” Celestia continued, “and were outlawed because sea turtles are too stupid to tell a bendy straw from a jellyfish.”

“That’s just a myth,” Twilight shot back, “sea turtles are some of the smartest animals next to pigs and rats. They’d never be dumb enough to eat plastic. Those commercials on the HV of sea turtles with straws in their nose are made by companies that want to see the bendy straw megacorporation suffer, and the turtles used are all paid actors.”

“Oh, okay,” Celestia said, easing her bowels just a bit that she wouldn’t be inadvertently aiding in the destruction of beautiful animals, before reclenching them as she remembered that she cares not for the suffering of animals. 

Unperturbed by these undulations, Twilight poked the straw’s non-bent end into the hole, carefully moving it over to a clump of what passed for Celestia’s pathetic little shits, and began excavating by sucking them up through the straw. They were small enough to fit through the plastic tube, and had both the size and texture of Dippin’ Dots. 

To Twilight, a connoisseur of shit both fine and fowl, the miniscule fecal balls were surprisingly full of taste, and had a depth of flavor that made her wish she had planned enough ahead to bring a complimentary glass of red wine. She swished them around her mouth, noting a slight saltiness that made her think of caviar, but also a little hint of something else. It took her a moment, but she finally realized that what she was tasting was magic!

Twilight gasped, her face flush with excitement at this new taste, when Celestia turned and gave her a stern gaze. This was reinforced a moment later when the removed blockage allowed a puff of putrid gas laced with sparkles to squirt out into Twilight’s still-open mouth. She swished this new taste around for a few moments, before swallowing the whole mouthful with a content sigh. 

“If you’re quite finished, I’d like your final verdict.” 

Twilight gave another look into the cavity, ready to assert her findings for the eighteenth time, when she gasped again. This time from surprise, not shit. With the blockage removed, she could see that this wasn’t just a bomb, it was a thermonuclear bomb. And whatsmore, there was a timer ticking down! 

“Ugh, how long until the end of the day?” Twilight asked rhetorically, as she knew the answer to such a question because she’s really smart. 

“Exactly 14 hours, 21 minutes, 35 seconds,” Celestia replied anyway, confirming Twilight’s dread as those numbers aligned perfectly with the numbers displayed on the timer. 

“This might be a problem then…” Twilight trailed off, thinking that perhaps this was her chance to usurp the throne. With Celestia exploded, she’d just have to get rid of Celestia’s retarded little sister, as well as the dozens of other half-princess abominations crawling around Equestia, and then she’d be next in line to rule. Then again, after a thermonuclear detonation, she wasn’t sure there’d be much of an Equestria left to rule. 

After tolerating more than enough of Twilight’s shit, and she’d tolerated quite a bit of it both literally and figuratively, Celestia was done playing around, and asserted in a commanding voice, “I hate to be a royal pain in the ass, but this whole situation is a pain in my royal ass literally and I’d like you to spit it out already. What’s wrong back there?”

Twilight spat, then spoke. “This bomb is going to go off at the end of the day.”

As if that drama wasn’t enough, there was suddenly a loud knock on the door. Angry at who would possibly think they’re worth her time, Twilight teleported to the front door and stuck her horn in the holster, opening it. Immediately a pegasus, previously unable to enter due to not having a horn to open the door with, barged inside, at least having the decency to fly around so as not to rub his filthy non-unicorn feet on Twilight’s floor. 

“I need to speak to Celestia,” he yelled urgently. He looked disheveled, and aside from that he had no discernable qualities worth mentioning other than gender. 

“Wait, how do you know she’s here?” Twilight questioned, confusion momentarily overriding her frothing rage at this intruder. 

“Because she’s like 8 feet tall and I saw her through the upstairs window,” he explained. 

Celestia poked her head over the banister, looking down at the pegasus from above, her eyes glowing with primordial light, threatening to erupt forth as searing laser beams that would reduce him to so much ash. “This better be good, peasant.”

“D-d-d-d-d!” He stuttered, overcome by the sudden pressure. 

“It must be morse code,” Twilight guessed, working out the pattern in her head as he continued to stutter.

“D-d-d-d-d-d-d!” 

“This one’s defective,” Celestia deduced, “I guess I’ll just vaporize it.” 

“D-d-d-deeeemons!” He finally finished, after no less than 15 unnecessary ‘D’s. 

“Demons?” Celestia questioned, “What do you know about demons?” 

“Demons in the woods! They killed a bunch of pegasi! So much blood!” He yelled hysterically. 

“So?” Twilight interjected, “If they managed to thin out the pegasus population it sounds like we should be thanking them. Perhaps even giving them a medal. No one cares about a few nameless background horses.”

“Th-they killed Rainbow Dash too!” 

Celestia raised an eyebrow, impressed that these so-called demons could best a main character. “Tell me, then, what did these ‘demons’ look like? And be concise with your answer lest I accidentally blink and release my lasers which will automatically fire if I blink FYI.”

Swallowing down his fear, and a few litres of musky, brown saliva, the pegasus painted a mental picture with his words. 

“They’re big… Huge even… Colorful… Have HV screens on their tummies…” he listed, only to be cut off abruptly as Celestia finally blinked, unable to hold her eyes open any longer. 

The pony had but enough time to comprehend his demise in the adrenaline-slowed moments it took for all moisture in his body to evaporate, leaving only a calcified outline where his shadow had been to prove he’d ever been there in the first place. 

“Woops,” Celestia laughed, before contemplating this newest turn of events. If what that pegasus said was true, then perhaps what was happening with the sun had returned them from their ancient exile. She scowled, her face crumpling up like a simile that hasn’t been used yet in this story, and she turned to Twilight who was admiring the newest floor decoration in her living room. “Assemble the entire Equestrian Army. It looks like we have some demons to exercise.”  





Rufus walked- an action I might recommend you copy did I think you still had the ability to locomote in any such way with the bulbous husk you call your body, you freak- through the woods- a place I’d recommend visiting sometime you pasty fuck- on his way to town- having an objective in life helps build character, even if that might be too little too late for you. He had a sleek coat of dried sweat that made him gleam in the small bits of sunlight that poked through the choked canopy, and he was getting quite hungry. He hasn’t eaten in like 4 chapters, after all. 

“Boy, I sure am hungry,” Rufus announced, letting Ots’ethe, his Centipede companion and best friend in on his latest plight. 

“Well you can’t eat me,” The Centipede replied, squashing Rufus’ idea to slurp the long arthropod up like a piece of spaghetti. “Besides, it looks like we’re almost to that town.”

Rufus stopped and looked around, noticing for the first time how the foliage had started to thin around him. He took a deep breath, catching a whiff of the distinct smell of horse feces as well as something else…? Apples…?

“I wonder if the people here still use horse-drawn carriages,” Rufus wondered, wonderfully. 

“I don’t know, I’m just a centipede,” Ots’ethe answered, even though the question was clearly rhetorical. 

As the pair traveled onward, they were greeted with the first signs of Equestrian civilization. As the lush forest gradually thinned and cleared, the trees became more sickly, and the fauna less numerous. In addition, pile after pile of horse feces lay scattered about the ground. It stretched across the entire rim on either side as far as they could see. 

"I'm surprised I didn't notice all the shit I was stepping in the first time I ran into the forest," remarked Rufus as he looked down to inspect his feet which, sure enough, were caked in layers of shit.

"Well if we're going to make it into town you're gonna have to step in a little bit more." Ots'ehte mumbled back, stating the obvious. 

"Don't threaten me with a good time." And with that Rufus stomped forward into the shit swamp delighting in the squishy feeling between his little pink tootsies. 

His fun was over in mere moments however, as while the ring of shit that lined Everfree was mile upon mile in length, it was a paltry ten meters thick. 

"Don't step back in it," ordered Ots'ehte, causing Rufus to bashfully turn away from the shit strip. 

They wordlessly continued forward, Rufus not being in the mood to talk to someone who WOULDN'T let him march multiple times through a river of shit. As they soldiered forth, they swiftly found themselves in front of a rustic wooden fence, beyond which lie even more trees. 

"What a refreshing change of scenery," mocked Ots'ehte as he rolled his eyes,"I was just thinking about how I'd never seen a forest before, oh wait."

"It's not a forest retard, it's an orchard," spat Rufus as he hopped the fence, "these are apple trees, and they're planted in meticulous rows."

"Well excuse me for being an ancient Vagyptian centipede who's been in one place for thousands of years. Let me just count on one maxilliped how many orchards I've seen. Oh yeah, one. Incidentally, I've also seen one forest and it looked exactly like this."

"It didn't look exactly like this," sneered Rufus snidely, as he stomped forward into the orchard, "Staying in that pyramid dulled your perception. We didn't find a single apple tree in that forest, and it wasn't blocked off by a shitty fence."

"I wish your mouth was blocked off by a shitty fence."

"Me too," Rufus admitted. Now released from the stuffy constraints of the forest’s dense foliage into the constraints of the orchard’s slightly-less-dense foliage, Rufus was able to pick up a new sound. A distinct sound he’d heard not too long before. The sound of horse wings. He turned his head towards the sky, spotting a flock of pegasi flying in formation, the sun glinting off their really-cool-looking horse armor. 

As they flew by overhead they let their shit fall where it dropped, adding to the ring of manure, but they seemed intent on watching the forest so went by without giving him any problems. “Wow, horse birds. What’s next? Horses that kick trees?” Rufus commented offhandedly, getting a sensible chuckle from the readers at home.

“That would be retarded,” Ots'ehte replied. As you’ve probably realized by now, our protagonists are full of sexual tension. They’d better find that vagina, and fast!

Wandering through the trees, the first thing our pink protagonist noticed was a rather large tree house sitting, you guessed it, in a tree. 

“What a strange place,” Ots'ehte observed as they approached, “this must be the town you smelled.”

“Don’t be absurdious,” Rufus replied, falling back into his habit of combining key words just like he did in chapter two (absurd + ridiculous in case you were wondering), “that’s not a town, it’s but a single building.”

As he approached, he flexed his eyebrows, pulling the flaps of skin on the sides of his face up away from his open ear holes long enough to hear that there was certainly someone, or something, in that there tree house. “I’m going to investigate,” Rufus continued as he approached, sweeping the ground with his eyes for traps but not literally. 

He climbed up the wooden ladder, and stood before a small wooden door. Rufus waited a moment before he began sweating. 

“I don’t understand,” the Centipede voiced, looking about as panicked as Rufus felt right now, “why does it not open?”

Rufus waved his hand before the entrance slab, but it neither reacted nor opened. “I- I don’t know… I don’t understand…”

“Rufus, why will it not open? This makes no sense!” Ots'ehte screeched, his tiny black eyes looking as crazed as a glazed donut looks glazed. 

“This makes no sense… None of this makes any sense!” He was waving his arms before the door, but it would not open. “No… They’ll know everything now!” Rufus was on the onset of a mental breakdown, beads of sweat the size of field mice running down his skin like the mouse that ran up the clock, hickory, dickory, dock. 

He was saved, though, as the door slid open, revealing a little yellow thing on the other side that looked at him with humongous eyes. 

“Well Ah’ll be a canned hamb, ther’ really is sumern’ outside that ther door,” the little yellow horse SPOKE of all things. Rufus was disturbed, and had he never seen a talking horse before, he’d likely have screamed and then vomited. As it stood, he merely vomited, but his quick reaction allowed him to catch the bile in his mouth and he promptly re-swallowed it.

“I told you,” another one spoke from inside, this one orange. She then looked up and addressed him, forgetting her place as a filthy commoner. “It’s a little early for Horseoween, don’t you think? And what are you dressed as, some sort of giant, mutant leprechaun?” A fat, round white one in the corner of the room began laughing at the other’s apparent joke, spitting chunks of half-chewed Rarity chops that she’d found up in her mom’s room and had promptly started eating. 

“Me like silly!” She burped out between bites, reaching into the large bucket which still contained some choice bits.

Rufus eyed the bucket enviously. “Hey, give me some of that,” he practically begged. 

The ponies looked at each other before unanimously getting an idea. “Wha’ will ya gib’ us in return, mister?” 

It took Rufus a moment to understand the retarded slurring accent from the yellow one, but he has a gigantic brain. In response he reached into one of his sleeves and produced a bong. Laugh out loud!

“Wow,” they all said in unison, “what’s that?” 

“It’s a magic urn that makes magic gas!” He explained, handing it over to the nearest one, “breathe that shit in!” 

“Will it give us our cutie marks?” The orange one questioned, during a cursory exam of Rufus, only to notice his sick-ass cutie mark as she circled him. She ran up, pointing at the large butterfly tattoo above his ass crack. “Wow, this cutie mark is freaking awesome!” 

Rufus thought that over for but a moment, before realizing that yes, doing drugs would cause you to get a tattoo, or a ‘cutie mark’ as they were referring to it. Tattoos are signs of the devil.

 “Why yes,” Rufus explained, and the yellow one, also known as Applebloom, by the way, put her mouth to the bong and inhaled deeply, sniffin that sweet air. Her eyes turned red and she was fucking high OMG!

“Dude, this is sick man!” She exclaimed, horse-handing the bong to Sweetly Belle who promptly breathed in the gas. If she didn’t have the munchies before, she sure did now! She began consuming her snack with a new gusto, but not before tossing Rufus a mashed chunk which could have been a Vagina at some point. Rufus didn’t pay any mind, though, as he caught the morsel in his mouth and swallowed it whole!

The orange one, AKA Scooterloop was the last up, and she promptly breathed the air. Meanwhile, Rufus was going straight to harder drugs. He finished tying the belt around his forearm before using a needle to inject the crystals directly into his bloodstream. 

“Awww, that’s the stuff,” he exhaled as the crystals caused his fingers to grow longer. Then he thought about it. 

"Say, I can’t really tell, but you guys are girls right? With vaginas?" All three of them nodded their heads vigorously, raising their tails to show off, and Rufus whispered to his centipede companion. “Well?”

“Too young,” he replied, “if it’s not fully matured then it won’t do.”

 He didn’t want to live in an underdeveloped neighborhood after all xD. More importantly, he needed more room if he was going to fit the foosball table. 

Within minutes, there was a cloud of hella dank smoke as the group hotboxed the bong smoke. 

“You know, you’re hella rad, mister,” Applebloom said, her words losing the slur as she was a stoner now, not a hick. 

“I know that,” Rufus admitted, only to slump his head, “but sometimes it can still be hard to motivate myself… Am I doing the right thing?” He questioned. 

“Indeed,” Sweetly Belle exclaimed, the drugs having made her actually more intelligent which is an actual fact that the government doesn’t want you to know about weed, it actually increases your IQ, but that’s covered up by propoganda of smokers being dumb because big pharma controls the Jews in office. “You’re an outstandingly fine fellow and, had I a hat to tip, I’d do so in your general direction.” 

Scooterloop was about to say something, when suddenly there was a great big flash, everything just changed, her molecules got all rearranged. When the light dimmed, Applebloom and Scooterloop gasped in unison, seeing that they’d gained cutie marks!

They ran over to each other and began miring. “Wow, my very first Cutie Mark!” Scooterloop admitted, “this is rap-radical!” She tried to turn her head, but couldn’t see her cutie mark clearly through the smoke. 

Applebloom seemed to be having the same problem and could only tell that it was a word, and she looked at her orange friend. “Can you, like, read my cutie mark?”

Scooterloop leaned in and examined the cutie mark. “Sweet,” she said, “What does mine say?” 

Applebloom looked at Scooterloops cutie mark. “Dude! What does mine say?” 

“Sweet!” Scooterloop explained, “but what does mine say?”

“Dude, what does mine say?”

“Sweet. What does mine say?!”

“Dude! Tell me what mine says!”

Seeing that the other wasn’t going to tell about their cutie mark, the two began violently smacking one another with their hardened forehooves, a fight that Applebloom would undoubtedly win with her retard strength from wallowing in the mud all her life. That is, until they heard the sound of hooves rapidly ascending the ladder outside, and they both stopped and looked at the time. 

“Oh heck, it’s 4:20 and my mom, Applejack, is coming!” Applebloom panicked, realizing she’d have to explain Rufus to her.

“I wish my mom, Rainbow Dash, would come,” Scooterloop moped, now sporting a black eye and bloody nose from her brief fight, and Rufus looked at her before pulling out the photo album he’d taken with his polaroid camera earlier, examining a few pictures of Rainbow Dash heroically being ground into a red Applesauce- a metaphor that’s appropriate considering the current location- under the sweaty feet of a purple demon. He resolved to mail them to her later.

Then, before Applebloom could even try to hide the pink elephant in the room, and Rufus, the door shattered into sawdust as Applejack bucked it. She stepped through the threshold, smoke and dust escaping past her into the outside world as she pulled a replacement door off her back and quickly slotted it onto the hinges. Then she turned and saw Rufus, who waved at her. 

“What in tarnation?” She wondered, though incredibly loud. So much so that the words traveled for miles, echoing through the orchard. After a few moments the ground started to rumble, and Rufus got a bad feeling. 

Before such feelings could be resolved through therapy, however, the source of the rumbling became clear as Horse Soldiers, these ones without wings, approached from all directions. Several then dozens of them appeared from the woodwork, gathering to the sound of a maiden in distress like flies to shit(a simile that’s apt considering the so-called ‘maiden’ in question). Within seconds, they’d formed neat ranks, standing at attention as a small battalion in front of the tree house, the crystals implanted in their brains requiring a command before they could act again. 

There was silence for a few moments as the dust settled, and Rufus looked awkwardly at the assembled army. Doing some quick math, he was able to tell that there were 40 soldiers. There were forty soldiers. That’s as many as four tens and that’s terrible. Ots'ehte stealthily crawled into his ear hole and tapped a suggestion directly onto his ear drum, “Perhaps we should tread carefully so we don’t upset them.” 

Rufus nodded, giving the Centipede vertigo. ‘Careful’ is his middle name, or was it ‘Tactful’? Either way Rufus stepped past a confused Applejack and out through the door onto the little platform at the front of the tree house and cleared his throat. He’d start with a joke as an ice breaker as everybody loves jokes. 

“What’s the best part of dating a twelve year-old girl?” He questioned, receiving absolutely no response from the rows of soldiers, all of which stared at him blankly. 

“In the shower, you can slick her hair back and pretend she’s a twelve year-old boy!” Rufus finished, expecting applause but receiving only pitiful cricket chirps. 

“Tough crowd,” Ots'ehte replied.

“What’s a shower?” Applejack wondered from behind. 


"A large flaccid cock that doesn't get very much larger as it gets erect." retorted Rufus, this time erupting both a colossal soundwave of booming laughter that threatened to shatter every eardrum in the vicinity except for Big Mac because he's dead underground from the horse soldiers, and also a blush from Applejack. 

"I'm glad this is another funny villain like Discord," chirped one of the lowly Equestrian soldiers, despite not even being a horsebird, "Luna was a fucking stupid boring villain and I hated her."

"Villain?" Questioned Rufus, deeply offended, "I climbed through a green asshole to come here and save you ingrates!"

"A likely fabrication," mewled a bucktooth hick pony in overalls and a straw hat, a piece of hay sticking out of the side of his chewing tobacco-filled mouth, "as the head of the Equestrian Earth Pony Battalion I've been trained not to fall for the lies of criminals."

The bumbling, practically toothless fucking imbecile staggered like a crooked table towards his accused ner-do-well (more like MARE-do-well XD).

"We've got one main character missing and another confirmed dead," he sputtered almost unintelligibly as thick streams of grimy brown drool seeped between the large gaps in his few remaining teeth, "and here you are making one of OUR main characters cry out in distress. It doesn't take but a moment's deduction to realize you're the killer, and we caught you red handed."

"Dead main character huh?" Rufus empathized, "That's gotta be Pegasus Character. He was the only memorable person in that group of pegasi I watched get murdered."

"Oh yeah? You watched them get murdered? I definitely believe that instead of my heavily supported hypothesis regarding YOU being a killing machine." Spat the hick, rolling his eyes. They rolled for a dexterity bonus, but came up short, and his spit missed Rufus's face by a country mile.

Rufus glowered at the little puddle of spittle that rested at his feet, not a literal mile away, since a country mile is a fake distance, and I can make it be whatever I want. 

"Now hold up y'all," interjacked Applejection, as she trotted in front of Rufus to shield him from the earth pony battle force, "Ah was only screamin outta surprahs. This here critter was alone with mah kin, and she ain't even dead er nuthin."

The drooling bucktooth hick(not Applejack) recoiled in shock, having finally been countered with an unassailable rebuttal.

"W-w-well-"

"Indeed," added Sweetly Bells, "in fact, since this creature arrived, my cognition has improved immeasurably."

"And like, ever since he got here, my totally stupid accent got replaced by this new tubular one, dude." Supplied Applebloom.

"In addition, I'm here." stated Scooterloop. 

"Yo Ots'ehte, check out the vagina on that horse." whispered Rufus as the horses all argued in front of him. He pointed a claw directly towards Applejack's hindquarters, upon which Ots'ehte gazed. 

Were he capable, the little centipede would've started profusely perspiring. In front of him was quite possibly the most beautiful vagina he'd ever seen, and he's a several-millennia-old being who lived among the Vagyptians! Gadzooks!

"That's….that's... "

Rufus smiled, "That's the vagina?"

"Quite." muttered Ots'ehte, blushing. 

"Well the transvaginator is too slow for me to merely steal it, I'll have to come up with some sort of plan."
> Big Steamy Pony Confrontation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle is, among other things, a purple horse at the best of times. At this time, however, she was all that and more. ‘More’ of course referring to the 4 foot-tall cylindrical command cap she wore on her head which marked her as the designated leader of this group of Equestrian Guards and gave her command authority. As a complainer, however, she’d be the first to admit it was awfully uncomfortable, as well as top-heavy, and it kept getting stuck in the low-hanging branches. 

As a matter of fact, she did just that; “This cap is uncomfortable, it’s top-heavy, and it keeps getting stuck in low-hanging branches,” she listed to the closest guard, an Earth pony like the rest of the detachment, one of eight currently carrying her ornate, open-topped palanquin. It seems Celestia didn’t trust allowing Twilight to command any more worthwhile forces than the Earth Pony regiment, a group of one thousand armored Earth ponies. 

The guard in question stared forward, his eyes twitching every time Twilight spoke as the enchanted crystal implanted in his frontal lobe tried to make sense of the not-straight-forward commands being given to it. 

“What’s more,” Twilight continued, “Why was I given such a useless group of guards? What am I supposed to do, trample the demons to death? You guys don’t even have any weapons.” 

Unfortunately, the poor guard couldn’t figure out her orders, and the crystal overheated from the attempt, roasting its peanut brain. As the guard collapsed into the dirt at the base of a tree, and was subsequently trampled by hundreds of its kin, grinding its bones to dust, Twilight huffed in annoyance. “That’s the sixth one already… Horse you guys are worthless…” 

As it stood, her regiment of guards was traveling through the Everfree Forest in the hopes that they’d run into the demons and show them what for. Twilight wasn’t particularly happy with having to spend time out in this dirty, mosquito-infested hellhole, but at least she didn’t have to do anything as disgraceful as walking(especially not up stairs). She also wasn’t particularly convinced she’d find anything out here. It’s not like they were sneaky, trampling shrubs, small trees, and wildlife alike, and farting up enough of a stink cloud to be detected for miles depending on the direction of the wind. 

With that thought, Twilight’s body farted by instinct, prompting hundreds of her guards to fart in response, which triggered a chain reaction of farts. You see, farting is to ponies as yawns are to you or I, and when they see someone else doing it, they can’t help but copy, but to far smellier results. 

In fact, they were polluting so much methane into the atmosphere that the temperature had gone up several degrees in the immediate area, the thick cloud of fart smog trapping in heat and moisture. The drastic increase in humidity allowed the proliferation of mosquitoes, which swarmed around her witless guards, sucking their blood and giving them many horrible diseases. Already, a dozen had been completely drained, their withered husks discarded in the wake of her pony swarm like empty juice bags. 

Twilight was able to keep such pests away thanks to her super unicorn magic, but without a command to do so, the Earth ponies were completely defenseless. Such things are irrelevant though, and as they marched ever deeper into the woods, she finally saw something worth checking out. 

“Halt!” she ordered, and the entire regiment immediately ceased all movement, not even bothering to breathe in their devotion to her every whim. One would assume such an acquiescence to be fatal, but Earth Ponies are really good at holding their breath. Up ahead was an open clearing with several sloping hills covered in grass. This wouldn’t have been that strange, and her ponies could easily just walk through the hills (they aint called ‘Earth’ ponies for nothin’), but something about it struck her as strange. Perhaps it was the fact that the colors were far brighter than anywhere else they’d been, or the striped wind wheels sticking out of the ground, or perhaps her horse shoes were on too tight. Whatever the reason, the colors or her shoes, she sat on her palanquin hating the Whos. 

"My big hat makes me the tallest," she reminded her new subjects, asserting her authority, "I've been to the Everfree Forest SOOOO many times with my friends, so I know the most about it too."

The horse horde surrounding her did little in the way of rebuttal, Celestia not having given her any of the New Soldiers with the biggest head crystals meant each of her subjects were scarcely smarter than Spike.

"None of the times we ran into the Everfree Forest lead us specifically here," she continued, "but every time we came we found something totally important. It's pretty much all this shithole is good for."

Twilight swiveled her colossal noggin around, to see that still none of the soldiers she'd been given were paying her a smidge of heed. It was beyond time for assertions of height, she'd have to resort to bribery. 

"Not at all like this shithole," she teased reluctantly, waving her jiggly rump from inside her palanquin, "this one's teeming with juicy, high quality poop from a bona-fide main character."

The soldiers immediately sprang to life, puckering their mouths open and herding around the LAVENDER UNICORN like seals around a zookeeper with a bucket of anchovies. 

"As if!" She thought to herself as her underlings desperately flocked towards her for precious brown morsels, "Not a single one of you deserves to look at my sphincter, let alone taste the shit it walls off from the unforgiving elements!"

"You! Investigate this clearing!" spat Twilight as she pointed at one of the guards, not one important enough for a name. 

The order stuck for a moment or two, the vagueness of a command like "investigate" being a bit of an ask for the obsolete brain crystal embedded behind the slave horse's forehead. Still though, it eventually settled on a reasonable enough definition, and opted to individually inspect every single square inch of the mentioned clearing. 

"Twilight! Thank goodness I've found you! I think we may be in a world of poo!" came a voice from within the woods behind the army and the little purple pony. 

A swift rustling of leaves was all that preceded a rather mangled-looking zebra tumbling out of the brush and right to the edge of the mass of soldiers surrounding Twilight's palanquin.

Twilight merely rolled her eyes.

"We already know that Zecora, I know the sun is a baby, I found the bomb in Celestia's ass, and I heard about the colossal murderous forest demons."

Zecora (who is the zebra from before if you've got a brain so fucking stupid, so utterly and completely full of shit, that it was incapable of coming to such an obvious conclusion) cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know about that shit at all. The threat I refer to is kawaii, and small."

"That's ridiculous, two villains at the same time? What are the odds of that?" Twilight rebutted, her perfect logic slicing Zecora's words like a knife, and almost literally slitting her fucking throat on the spot. 

Their brief exchange was halted, however, as a gurgled moan came from up ahead. Twilight’s brow furled, red blood cells heating up with pure anger as she turned her rage-filled gaze upon the guard that dared interrupt her.

“I thought I told you to investigate, not make noise!” She yelled, before her sight fell upon the source of the gurgling. 

A large humanoid, purpler than even Twilight, who’s as purple as ponies get, stood there at the base of the colorful hill. A dimpled smile and eyes that radiated a child-like innocence giving an obverse impression of the creature to the full-grown armored pony it held like a balled-up, cum-filled tissue with one hand, dangling by its neck. The guard let out a wet gasping sound as blood was squeezed up its esophagus by the ridiculous grip strength of the creature, and with a modicum of additional pressure, its head popped like an overfilled balloon, throwing out bits of pony brain like rice at a bar mitzvah. 

Twilight put up a magic shield, easily protecting herself from the gore, but Zecora and the front few rows of Earth ponies were given- if their smell is anything to go off of- the first shower they’d ever received, albeit a red one. 

The creature giggled, and clapped its hands together in amusement, balling the pony’s corpse like silly putty, before turning and tossing it through a hoop. 

Despite the potential threat before her, Twilight couldn’t help but laugh at the fate of the hapless Earth pony guard, and spent a few moments giggling to herself before mirthlessly wiping a tear from her eye and flicking it at Zecora. 

“I don’t suppose you’d happen to be one of those demons I’m here to exterminate, would you?” She questioned, resting her chin on the tip of her hoof-capped appendage as she regarded the creature. She liked the color, and resolved that she’d skin it after it was killed and make a rug for the main room of her library. 

The creature giggled and waved at her. “Tinky Winky!” he exclaimed, introducing himself.

Twilight sighed, almost upset that she wouldn’t get any witty banter to put in the news report, but she figured she could make that up later. For now, she had a demon to exorcise. 

“Kill it.” She instructed simply, and over nine-hundred Earth pony guards immediately perked up at the simple command, dropping her palanquin where it sank halfway into the lake of diarrhea afore-mentioned guards had helped produce.

Tinky Winky looked about as intimidated as a pointedly-not-intimidated thing, and continued giggling as the stampede approached at ramming speed.The quickest ponies reached him moments before the rest, and he grabbed them each with his pork-chop-like hands and flung them straight up, out of the forest and into the sun. The baby head giggled, accepting the souls offered to it as their water-based bodies evaporated in tiny puffs of smoke and ash. As the approaching hoard neared, he reached behind his back and produced his little red bag, the handle of which had been clenched between his massive ass cheeks. 

He swung the bag in a wide arc with ease, its mass contradicting its size as it easily obliterated any flesh it came in contact with, decapitating four ponies in that single swipe, their heads cleanly severed from their bodies. It was only when Twilight looked more closely did she realize that their skulls had been battered right out of their fleshy cocoons, and they rolled down the hill and came to rest at the base of a tree. Their bodies continued forward, harmlessly impacting against Tinky Winky’s belly before falling limp, not even budging him an inch, and certainly not making a dent or scratch on his tummy screen. 

Hefting the bag, he popped it open, allowing its contents to spill loose onto the nearby ponies, revealing that it had been jam-packed with skulls of all types. Big skulls, small skulls, skulls the size of your head! They rained down on the ponies… Not really doing anything in particular, but it was cool I guess.

Despite his decimation of any that drew close, the near-mindless group of soldiers continued their attempted assault. Their brain crystals all buzzed in unison, forming a simple plan. They encircled Tinky Winky rather than dashing him head on like a stampede of wildebeests killing Simba's dad in self-defense.

The wild kicking of their hooves as they surrounded him did nothing, their steel-shod horse hands glancing off his terryclothed blubber and tickling him. He laughed in response, his previous high-pitched giggles now replaced by a deep, rumbling bellow like an oncoming tsunami that rattled Twilight’s bones, and his tummy screen fizzed with static. 

A moment later, it flipped on, showing a video feed of the very same army of Earth ponies on that very same hill, surrounding that very same Tinky Winky. The Earth pony’s simple minds were immediately swayed as they saw the imitation HV, overriding their last command as they watched, mesmerized. Twilight, too, was distracted, watching the screen from her position further back, confusion running rampant through her silly little noggin. 

“What the hibbity-heck have I seen upon that creature's HV screen?” Zecora wondered aloud, only for Twilight to cast a spell that literally zipped her stupid fucking mouth shut. Haha remember when Discord did that to Pinkie Pie? #Bronymoments. 

In Twilight’s expert opinion, Earth ponies, which Zecora is one of, should have been born with a skin lid over their mouths (just like in my hit single: Brony Skin Coats), but she was happy to do nature’s work from time to time. 

The video on Tinky WInky’s tummy rumpler became even more interesting as the Tinky Winky on the screen began picking up the pony guards one by one and tearing their skin off in a single motion, tossing it into a pile. It was only after watching this for 15 seconds, and 8 ponies more, did Twilight realize what was about to happen. 

“Evasive maneuvers!” She ordered, snapping the pony guards out of their revelry with her new command. However, both words used were far too complex for their simple processing capabilities, and instead of acting they simply sat there, smoke coming out of their ears as the gems heated up to near-lethal levels trying to contemplate the command. 

Tinky Winky reached down and grabbed a pony, turning his broadcast program into reality HV as he peeled the pony like a banana. With its skin gone, he was able to easily reach the delectable innards, and he put his mouth up to the guard’s belly button and sucked, slurping out his intestines and other guts like spaghetti. Within moments, all that was left was a husk of muscles and bones, and Tinky Winky balled it up and tossed it through a nearby hoop before sighing in contentment. A canker-sore covered tongue emerged from between his rows of needle-like teeth and rolled over his lips in a full circle, absorbing the last bits of vital goo leftover around his mouth from his recent meal. 

After a moment, the screen on his tummy changed, showing one of the consumed pony’s last moments on this gay Earth from a minute ago when he was holding the palenquin and was offered some of Twilight’s feces. She saw how he gazed longingly at her butt from below, and had to look back and check herself. Sure enough, she had a big pimple on her asshole. How embarrassing! 

Twilight clamped her teeth around the protrusion and squeezed, tears filling her eyes as puss and blood sloshed from the tip of the flesh volcano like toothpaste, and she sloshed the mixture around her mouth for a few moments before swallowing.

She looked back up in time to spot Tinky Winky, clearly going in for round two, when another of the demons appeared. This one was Yellow, kinda like Fluttershy who’s dead, but not quite the same shade of yellow as Fluttershy who’s dead. 

“Laa-laa!” She announced, putting her hands up before cartwheeling directly into the crowd of guards, brutalizing them in a non-sexual way. 

Her tummy screen glistened with the scarlet sheen of pony blood, glimmering as she spun through the army like Buzzsaw Louie from Veggie Tales. The wind generated from her spin sent twin tidal waves of viscera onto the soldiers lucky enough to be outside her immediate trajectory. 

"Fight back, retards!" screamed Twilight at her horse horde. This much more simple command registered immediately, and the several thousand strong battalion surrounded Laa-Laa and Tinky Winky respectively.

As if they were a eusocial insect colony, the earth ponies acted in unison, rearing up on their hind legs. One by one they started unleashing furious blows, each with the force to penetrate concrete without leaving so much as a crack around the hole. 

Laa-Laa recoiled slightly at each blow, her relatively lithe frame (as Tellytubbies go) having a lower tolerance to blunt force. Tinky Winky by comparison, was barely even seeming to register that the ponies were moving as he ripped handfuls of flesh and sometimes entire bones out of whatever was in front of him. He shoved pieces of flesh into his mouth at random, but the memories that flashed on his Teletummy were of little importance. The earth pony soldiers lead very uninteresting lives when they weren't being mercilessly slaughtered.

Despite her relative weakness, Laa-Laa was far from defenseless, unlike the ponies that assaulted her. With each retaliating blow she gored several of her attackers, Turning them into dead or crippled heaps. 

"I guess I should help," grumbled Twilight angrily as her little horn lit up like Rudolph's nose. No less than twenty but less than twenty-two soldiers floated into the air, aligning like the planets in Disney's Hercules. In an instant they were flung at Tinky Winky at several times the speed of sound. 

Instead of pasting him like Huey's girlfriend from The Boys, the earth pony artillery rounds splattered against Tinky Winky like bugs on a windshield. 

"Dipsy!" came a voice from out of nowhere, before emerging into somewhere, revealing its owner to be none other than Dipsy of Teletubbies fame. What a twist. 

Dipsy looked at Twilight's horn from afar and giggled, it reminded him of his own head bobble. 

Twilight lit up her horn once again, readying another volley of sacrificial bullets. In response, Dipsy laughed and clapped. He loved her little trick. In fact, he loved it so much, he thought he'd give it a try 

Planting his cute little tootsies, he grunted and focused on a section of the seemingly endless wave of punching ponies. His head bobble flickered, before lighting up with a bright green glow. At least thirty, but definitely not thirty-two earth ponies ascended into the air like Krillin when Freeza was killing him. Instead of exploding however, they crunched together, smushing into each other with more force than a hydraulic press. The pressure was enough to liquify their bones as they were forced into a perfectly spherical form.

It was structured like a planet, with crust composed mostly of dried skin, while the asthenosphere beneath, consisted mostly of liquefied organs, meat, and fat. In the very center lay a ball of molten bone, making up the core. 

Twilight turned to Zecora, and unzipped her annoying fucking maw for a brief moment.

"What was your threat you were talking about again?"

"It was absolutely terrifying, some cute, pink, magical mole rat thing."

"That seems much more dangerous and immediately catastrophic than this, we should definitely investigate."

Zecora easily picked up on Twilight's sarcasm, as though it were a tangible object lying at her hooves. 

"It's far more serious than you think! He gave me this scar on my cheek!" she cried, pointing to her big ol cheek scar. 

Twilight said nothing, she merely turned her head towards Dipsy, who was frantically waving his hands with glee as he floated more bodies up to his pony planet. 

Once it had reached a mass that satisfied him, Dipsy sent his creation hurtling into the dirt. He spiked it straight down, rocketing it into the battle below. It collided with the ground with the force of a tungsten bombardment rod, kicking up dust and blasting viscera and pony bodies in all directions. In one fell swoop he'd destroyed at least half of Twilight's army. 

Satisfied, Dipsy whipped a single-use plastic straw out of nowhere(it was actually in his ass) and began walking around, slurping up the puddle of remains that filled the crater he'd made. 

Amidst the momentary lapse in bloodshed, a stomping sound permeated the silence, snuffing it out like a flame. It had the rhythm of footsteps, but each supposed footfall sounded like a bag of ice being run over by a steam roller. The noise persisted for moments, growing steadily louder, before the source of it came into view. 

It was Po, obviously enough. She was rubbing her eyes sleepily, no doubt having been woken up by the sounds of the other three playing. Her thick fucking thighs clapped and jiggled as she took her steps, while her gamer girl feet crunched into the ground beneath her, leaving footprints as though she were stepping in snow. 

"Tubby custard?" she asked, and in response the other Teletubbies merely gestured at the surrounding carnage as they rolled their eyes. As if to say "no fucking shit."

“Perhaps we should flee,” Zecora mumbled between quivering lips like a pathetic, castrated male, “before they come for you and me.”

Twilight leveled her gaze at Zecora, the little bubble aligning at the center of her forehead to prove this as a fact, and beneath the Scrutifixion (two words cleverly combined to describe scrutiny so intense as to be crucifixion-like) the black-and-white pony couldn’t help but feel a little inadequate. Indeed, she had been judged and found wanting, and Twilight opened her mouth to release a high-pitched noise like that of a dentist’s drill that grew steadily in intensity until it resembled the buzzing din of a million rattled hornets. 

“Pitiful wingless grub,” she practically spat, and then literally spat, transitioning back to horse speech, “I would throw a coward like you off the top of my tree-library did I think it’d be more satisfying than watching you be crushed by these colorful demons.”

Zecora unconsciously swallowed the accumulated sweat that had pooled in her open mouth as she stumbled for a response, clearly startled by Twilight’s blatant disgust.

 “I mean, we do-don’t stand a ghoooost of a chance.” Then she remembered she has to rhyme per her character (despite me not doing that numerous times because I’m a bad writer) “Let’s retreat, just like France!” 

Twilight was having none of that, however. 

“What? Am I supposed to be afraid of some colorful potatoes with feet? It’s not like they can hurt me with my impenetrable magical barrier anyway.” she bragged. In actuality, the main reason she wasn’t retreating herself is simply that she lacked enough ponies in the immediate area to carry her palanquin, and she wouldn’t be caught dead walking through the mud like a lowly Earth pony. What’s more, if she teleported home now, she’d never hear the end of it from Celestia.

Unfortunately, Zecora was lacking much in the impenetrable-magical-barrier-department, and while Twilight was talking, Dipsy’s head doodle irradiated with an ungodly green aura and she was lifted into the air. 

Zecora’s eyes widened to thrice their average size as she saw what Dipsy was doing, lifting other ponies with his psychokinesis and compressing their bodies into marble-sized balls before shoving them into Laa-laa’s gaping asshole. He had already shoved dozens inside, and her butt was starting to resemble an overzealous chipmunk collecting nuts for the winter, cheeks bulging to the point of bursting. Laa-laa hardly seemed to notice, however, giving Zecora the impression that perhaps she wasn’t close to bursting at all! 

“No,” Zecora begged, “can you not see by my gawdy character design that I am an important character? You can’t just kill me off like some background-” however her protests and rhyme were ignored and she was tragically crushed into a tiny ball and put into Laa-laa’s poop canal. 

Moments later, Laa-laa farted out Zecora’s remains, making her sacrifice meaningless.

“Heh, serves her right,” Twilight muttered, noticing that less than ten percent of her original force remained uneviscerated. They continued following orders to the end, kicking fruitlessly at the unstoppable, fruity juggernauts. “Figures the Earth ponies would be useless. I guess I’ll just have to do everything myself…” she muttered, mustering her full concentration. 

Swallowing a few lung-fulls of air, she inflated her intestines like an amateur clown’s attempt at a balloon animal, her belly bulging out as she filled up with vile gas. Channeling her full power into her anus, it stretched and contorted like a nozzle, until it much resembled her head horn (perhaps all pony horns are just stretched anuses :thinking:). Twilight turned and pointed her rear at the group of feasting monstrosities and raised her tail. 

“Now you’ve asked for it,” she cried, “SUPER FRIENDSHIP BLAST!” 

Releasing the pent-up pressure, the tip of her asshole-spike opened ever-so-slightly like an airbrush nozzle, releasing pressurized, magical fart gas with a sonic boom as it rocketed out at mach 3. Her rifled innards imposed a spin on the gas as it escaped, and when her super-heated fart met the normal-heated atmosphere a tornado was formed. The whirling fart gas whipped into her targets in less than a second, easily uprooting trees and sweeping up corpses and still-living Earth pony guards alike and hurling them hundreds of feet into the air. They were mercifully spared a gory death, dashed against the forest’s canopy, as the pure unadulterated stench of Twilight’s fart killed them all instantly. 

Though impressive in volume, and indeed it could be heard for miles, the fart lasted a pitifully short time before petering out into a last gasping moan. 

"Better out than in, I always say," she said with a sigh of relief, turning back to admire her handiwork. Everywhere the fart had touched was torn and windswept, yet the Teletubbies remained whole and unaffected. In fact, they began clapping and cheering and laughing, clearly having found humor in her most powerful attack as though it was some sick entertainment. 

Enjoying the pony’s show, Po decided to reciprocate the action and released the gas that Noo-noo hadn’t sucked out in the last hour. There was a lightning crack as his fart gushed out, cracking a nearby boulder in half and smelling no less rancid than the Tubby Custard of which it was fermented from.

Now it was Laa-laa’s turn, and she did her best attempt at a head stand, pointing her ass into the air and farting with a loud crack that sent hundreds of compressed pony balls into the sky like birdshot. They kept their velocity for miles, eventually sweeping through the recovering city of Cloudsdale with devastating brutality. 

Twilight flushed with indignity and turned back to the four demons, now alone against them as her entire army was farted into oblivion. 

"I wonder what's happening with that stupid thing Zecora was complaining about," Twilight pondered, wishing to think about anything besides the current situation. 

Offering little in the way of rebuttal, the Teletubbies opted instead to toddle towards Twilight, clapping their felt mitts with every step. Tinky Winky led the pack, his long stride and giddiness at seeing a creature almost as purple as himself making his gait far more rushed than the others'. 

Twilight's hubris-ridden thought processes crashed to a halt, giving way instead to her fearful, primitive pony brain. In this state she was nearly as brainless as any of her crystal-brained guards. Her ears flared backward, her tail tucked, and she shrunk to the ground.

Once Tinky Winky got close to Twilight he opened his cute little peepers wider for a better look, and boy was he not disappointed. Looking her up and down, he took note of her soft haunches and bulbous belly. Not only was this final little creature purple, (almost as much so as him) but it was positively roiling with delicious tubby custard. What's more, he'd already burned enough calories murdering that army that devouring her wouldn't interfere with his keto diet. 

He opened his slavering maw, his teeth stained oranger than a slightly-oranger-than-average Donald Trump from years of Tubby Custard abuse and globules of bloody saliva peppered her body as though tasting her by proxy. It was at this moment Twilight knew she was about to succumb to a horrible death, and as her brain went through mental gymnastics, her mouth opened to yell the first thing that came to mind. 

“Wait, I’ll do anything!” It wasn’t even a fully-fledged beg, confused as she was, and Tinky Winky was taken aback for a moment. Not because she was begging, as many of his countless victims had begged far better than she and felt no remorse or mercy, but because he felt a sudden need in his bowels. It seems perhaps the pony intestines he slurped like sghetti earlier weren’t sitting too well, and he needed to use the Noo-noo. 

As Twilight’s superiority complex completely degraded under Tinky Winky’s intense stare, her mind roiled trying to find anything she could say to make this monstrosity spare her miserable life. She thought of how she was of use to Celestia, and spat out the first thing that popped into her head. “I can eat your shit!” 

Tinky Winky’s eyes lit up with relief. This was exactly what he wanted to hear. Not that he wasn’t about to force her mouth open anyway and do the same thing, but if she was willing maybe she’d even spit on his anus and lick it clean afterwards like a bidet.

Without much further adieu (and with even less ceremony) Tinky Winky spun around on the spot and bent his knees as he kept them shoulder-width apart. Reaching back with his colossal clamps, he took one cheek in each hand, before pulling them apart to present Twilight with his puckered purple poopchute. 

Twilight gawked, mouth agape, which Tinky Winky took as his sign to start shitting. In truth she was just amazed at how purple this particular part of Tinky Winky was. That fact, however, did nothing to cease the grunting and pushing of the plush colossus before her. 

The instant a brown turtle head poked out from the massive anus Twilight Sparkle sprung into action. She latched her lips onto the tip of the proverbial iceberg (if icebergs were gargantuan logs of Teletubby shit) and started applying a suction force that rivaled Noo-Noo's own. 

In truth, in Twilight's book, this wasn't so much an indignity as it might be to someone like me. You, however, being a shit-eating fuckhead, are more likely to relate to Twilight than I. As she sucked and sloshed and swirled her tongue, she took account of the flavor profile. 

She noted in her analytical unicorn mind, the earthy tones of the highly salty lumps and logs sliding across her taste buds. These were mighty chunks, unlike the goat-like pellets she'd receive from Celestia. In a way, this was a promotion. 

Tinky Winky put a finger to his mouth like Shrek in that scene from Shrek where Shrek puts his finger to his mouth. Bashfully, he unleashed a soft little toot, an action that gave him some anxiety. He didn't want to short circuit his brand new Noo-Noo. 

His fears were misplaced however, as Twilight was certainly no slouch when it came to eating shit. Her Dyson-level vacuum shitsucker absorbed the fart with gusto, rapidly blasting it through her entire digestive tract and ejecting it as a pleasant double toot. 

Tinky Winky giggled. He liked his new Noo-Noo. And he’d like her even more once he was done ‘improving’ her. As his last bulbous loaf deposited into Twilight’s toilet-like mouth, doing two full laps around her palate before flushing into her throat with a gurgled rasp, he reached down to wipe with one of the ten thousand rolls of toilet paper he’d bought due to a viral scare, only to feel something wet and coarse on his chocolate-donut-like half-prolapsed bunghole. 

With a creaking groan due to his unoiled joints, Tinky Winky’s head turned 180 degrees on its axis, allowing him to peer down as Twilight lapped at his asshole with her prehensile, two-foot-long tongue. His own tongue lolled out, revealing that it was also prehensile and two-feet-long as her tongue marched through his sweet-crusted gluteus canyon before penetrating the semi-permeable mucus membrane that had formed over his gaping exit allowing the stench of decay to escape. Thankfully, this was all easily absorbed into Twilight’s sponge-like tongue. 

The other Teletubbies watched fascinated from the sidelines, eager for their turns, but Tinky Winky had work to do first. With the skill and finesse this horse had shown, he couldn’t let her escape. He turned and grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, hefting his red bag with his other hand as he dragged her across the ground to the hill, preparing to operate.
> The Part Where Your Face Scrunches Up Like A Tissue After I've Cummed Into It
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rufus sat absolutely nonplussed on the wooden floor of the Cutie Mark Crusaders Clubhouse, despite having glued several plusses to himself after losing them two times before. While he'd been formulating a master plan to get rid of the battalion of ponies that had wanted his head, the owner of the vagina he yearned for merely clutched him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him inside.

Once the cheap door had been slammed shut, the surrounding swarm became confused and left. Evidently, the Earth Pony crystal guards were so mentally inept, they lacked object permanence. To them, Rufus had ceased to exist. 

"Well thanks for the rescue, toots," charmed Rufus, regaining his bearings, "how's about I take you on a date as a reward?"

Applejack blushed, "Ah'm charmed really, but I happen to have a famous, athletic boyfriend."

Rufus visibly wilted.

"Speakin' of, Ah should probably go check up on the ol' lummox. He's been having one hell of a day." 

Rufus could empathize, but he needed that vagina, so he followed Applejack as she dashed out the clubhouse door. Together, they ran to Ponyville, Rufus lagging behind considerably on his stubby appendages.

Once they were a good way into the town proper, Applejack scanned her surroundings for any sign of her bumbling beloved one. Mostly she was looking for bodies and property damage. She hadn't a clue where to look really, Touch could get into all sorts of messes without her supervision. 

Off in the distance, she saw a partially-obliterated house, and in an instant she'd sprinted to it. It definitely LOOKED like Touch's handiwork, Applejack had seen it enough times to tell. 

She sank low to the ground, eyeing the perfectly-imprinted holes in the ground that represented Touch Down's hoofprints. Sticking her own hoof in and scraping it along the hole wall, she judged the angle of the hoofsteps in question. From this she was able to determine the direction Touch had been running in what she hoped was his most recent path of destruction. Otherwise she'd be at this all day.

"You're a pretty good tracker," chimed Rufus as he observed from a few feet away, "you should help me hunt down delicious prey sometime."

"Ah might take you up on that once I've got a handle on Touch."

"Oh yeah great bring your boyfriend," Rufus moaned as dryly as he possibly could. 

Applejack chuckled in response, then trotted off on the same path as the footprints she was following.

"Hurry up and steal her vagina," Ots'ehte hissed impatiently from underneath the safety of his chosen skin flap. 

"It's not like I'm not trying," retorted Rufus angrily, "she's not some two-assed chupicabra, she's a smart, honest woman with a fucking boyfriend. I'm trying."

Ots'ehte merely grumbled. 

"I don't want to hear anymore bitching," the mole rat continued as he plodded after Applejack, "if your stupid Transvaginator stole vaginas faster I wouldn't have to go through all this bullshit."

The hoof prints brought the two of them into the wreckage of a small cottage. Twisted wooden struts poked haphazardly from a mound of splintered furniture and thatch and a horrible stench wafted up from deep within the rubble. Applejack reached out with her tongue and tasted the upholstery of what was once a chair. “It’s still warm, I reckon this is fresh.”

Rufus eyed the destruction and whistled. “What happened here?” 

Applejack turned back to him, her eyes half-lidded and glazed over with eye glaze as she remarked huskliy, “Mah ultra-hunk boyfriend happened here. He’s real strong.” 

“Oh great, that makes me feel much better,” Rufus remarked sarcastically, having hoped that her boyfriend would turn out to be a stupid nerd he could give a perminant swirly to in order to win over Applejack’s effection.

“He’s so strong, Ah can’t even let ‘im help out on tha farm for fear ‘a him destroyin’ mah crops. One time he done kicked one-a mah trees so far, me an’ the girls done had ta’ take that ther pony express all tha way to Applooza to recover it,” she seamlessly transitioned into an anecdote. 

Rufus wasn’t really listening, but he nodded his head as she talked to show he was good boyfriend material. 

After finishing her story, Applejack’s tongue slid out and subsumed the eye glaze freeing her vision as she attempted to determine which direction Touch Down had traveled. She began digging through the wreckage, scavenging through it like a particularly picky vulture, until she found exactly what she was searching for. A still-bubbling pool of orange goop had been revealed, releasing an unholy stench. 

Rufus liked smelly things, so he didn’t cover his nose, but he did ask what it was. “What is that?” He asked. 

Applejack pulled out her perspectacles to place on the bridge of her nose, but accidentally crushed them with her hoofs. “Touch travels so dern quick, when his contrale meets liquids they done rapidly atomize like a vermin in a large hadron collider. I reckon this poor fella was mindin’ his business when Touch came through. Tha trick is, one side atomizes milliseconds before tha other, givin’ tha slightest tint to tha pool. With careful eyebservation, ah betcha we can figure out which di-rection he headed off in.” she rambled. 

Honestly, the only ‘di-rection’ Rufus cared about was the direction of his erection as he watched her bend over the pool, and he could easily measure that by the angle of the dangle. He was about to make his move when there was a loud crash as another building down the block blasted into bits. 


"Touch?" Applejack cried out as she Rainbow Dashed ;D in the direction of the destruction. Unfortunately when she got closer, she found out it was a completely unrelated exploding house. Dejected, she sunk her head low and wordlessly continued following Touch's trail of hoof falls, splintered homes, and feces. 

She tip-hoofed around and slithered through obliterated houses and monuments, until she came across what could have easily been the fanciest building in Ponyville, if it weren't filled with giant holes. 

"That's rather odd, Touch ain't much for wearin' any sorta fancy clothes," Applejack mused aloud as she walked through what was once the door of a marvelous boutique, "hey Rare, I'm sorry to barge in but I'm lookin' for Touch an' it seems he stopped by."

There was a deafening silence that followed, which scared Rufus silly. 

"Ah geez I don't wanna go deaf!" he screamed, breaking the silence and saving both of their hearing. 

"Touch was definitely here, his footsteps an' feces are everywhere," muttered our sweet southern belle as she sniffed the air, "his semen too."

Rufus looked down to make sure he wasn't standing in any semen, only to, sure enough, see his little foot resting in the largest puddle of cum in the entire room. 

He put his semen-soaked foot up in the air and stared at it, considering whether or not he should just cut it off. 

Before he could, Applejack leapt through the air and took his entire foot in her mouth. Drawing back, she slowly pulled it out, sucking off all the cum like a cartoon cat when it sticks a whole fish into its mouth and pulls out just the skeleton.

"Waste not," she muttered, bending down and sucking up the cum puddle he'd stepped in, before focusing her attention on the rest of the floor, slurping up discarded semen like a cum-crazed Noo-Noo. 

Rufus had to admit, he was enjoying watching her bend over and drink cum.

"I have to admit, I'm enjoying watching you bend over and drink cum," Rufus admitted as he enjoyed Applejack bending over and drinking cum. 

Applejack blushed and made her way into the adjacent kitchen, sucking up cum as she went. What she saw when she got there was so shocking, that it made her projectile vomit the cum she'd drank all over the room. 

Across from her was what appeared to be a wadded up tissue with my cum in it. But Applejack knew better. Wadded up tissues with my cum in them don't have manes, horns, or tails. Certainly not purple curly ones. 

As she examined the crumbled corpse of her dead best friend, tears found their way streaming down the sides of her face. 

"Ah can't believe it," she sobbed as she trudged away from the body and back into the living room where Rufus still sat. 

"What's wrong Queen? Your tiara is slipping?" Inquired Rufus. 

"Touch cheated on me."

Rufus’ eyes widened, quickly growing in size by no less than 28%. This was wonderful news, at least for him. He started doing a little jig as he watched Applejack’s tear ducts prolapse. They stretched and turned inside out, before opening like a sphincter to let her large, solid, red, fruit tears out. She sobbed, apples dropping from her eyeballs like apple rice at an apple bar mitzvah. Rufus used his own eyes which were currently not emitting apples to check out her ass, and noticed that she had an apple tramp stamp on her flank. Perhaps she had such a tattoo because she had a particular talent for crying apples???

Rufus’ dance was cut short as an apple flew across the room and hit him in the head. 

“Yeowch, watch where you’re pointing that thing!” Rufus scowled, but Applejack probably didn’t hear him through all the apples in her eyes. She blew her nose and apples came out, and it made Rifus realize he’d never questioned where apples come from before. 

“No wonder the doctor doesn’t like those thing- Watch out!” his ear centipede cried, prompting Rufus to karate chop an apple out of the air. “We really got to calm her down, lest we end up bludgeoned to death by apples.”

“You’re right, no doctor in his right mind would come to help us… But what do I do?” 

Ots'ehte thought for a few moments, before the camera zoomed in on his brain, showing an abundance of electricity. “Think, think, think… BRAIN BLAST!”

“Aw heck, now we need a neurosurgeon? Golly I hope they aint afraid of apples too!” Rufus said, his worried facade so real, it was almost like he was actually worried. 

“I got an idea,” Mr. Centipede announced, “now that she’s sad, if you cheer her up, she’ll be sure to reward you with sex.” He nodded his centipede head and clapped his many, many sets of legs in self-congratulation. 

Rufus didn’t look convinced, but that could just be a facade of not-convinced for all I know. “I don’t know, don’t you think she’ll be a little emotionally unstable and unable to trust anyone to be so intimate after being betrayed like that?”

“Nonsense,” Ots'ehte denied, “females cry all the time. It doesn’t mean anything… It’s just them trying to get attention. Look, you just have to walk up and give her like 20% of your attention capacity and her vagina is practically in the bag.”


“Last I checked, I don’t have a bag. What do I look like, Bilbo Baghands?” ((Live studio audience clapping and laughing in background)) He showed his hands to prove his point and, sure enough, they weren’t bags. 

The centipede scurried out of his ear, down his tummy rumpler, and into his swimsuit area. He grabbed Rufus’ scrote, and stretched it up into his line-of-sight. “Perhaps not, but you do have a sack. But that’s besides the point as it was a figure of speech. What I’m saying is that this is your chance and- Watch it!” 

Rufus, distractedly looking at his scrote as he was, wasn’t quick enough to react as the apple pegged him in the dangly bits with a resounding ‘thump’. He bit into his lip as pain molecules marched through his blood stream, a gout of fresh blood rolling down his chin from where his sharp teeth punctured as his eyes bulged out, growing an additional 10% larger in the process. That was definitely going to leave a bruise. Not just on his genitals, but also around his ocular bones, which were creaking under the force of his ever-expanding eyes. 

“Damn, I wasn’t recording,” Ots'ehte sighed in disappointment as he pulled out a tiny phone, “do it again.” 

Rufus would have had choice words for him, but at that very moment an additional apple jettisoned from Applejack’s tear duct and directly into his remaining unbruised nut. Rufus spat up a glob of coagulated blood from the pools of blood in his stomach before collapsing. By now, he had more pain molecules than blood in his body, and it showed as he turned a bright shade of blue. 

Ots'ehte made entertained-centipede-noises. 

“I’m adding that to my cringe compilation.” He declared before saving it to a folder titled ‘Ots'ehte’s Opus of Atrocities’. He then promptly slid his phone back into his pocket.

“I’m not a millennial so I’m putting my phone away because I’m not a slave to it,” he announced. Millennials always have their phone out because they’re brain dead. Speaking of brain dead, how are you? Just kidding I don't care. 

"I want to kill you and eat you," Rufus grunted through grit teeth as he writhed on the floor in agony. 

"Edgy," replied Ots'ehte,"but riddle me this, what is that horse's vagina without a magical centipede?"

"Tight, wet, and pointedly devoid of centipedes."

"Oh I hope it's not tight, I'd like to have some room to stretch my legs," the centipede admitted, "you'd better go console her, if you can give her a shoulder to cry on, you might be able to take advantage of her emotional vulnerability and steal her vagina."

Rufus hated to admit it, but Ots'ehte's emotional manipulation plan was better than anything he'd come up with in the last hour. So he swallowed his pride, and crawled toward Applejack, dodging apple after apple in the process.


"Psst, stop hitting me in the nuts with apples," Rufus whispered to Applejack from his spot on the floor beside her, the sultry tone of his voice cascading into both her earholes despite, or perhaps because of, the apples currently wedged within. 

Applejack sniffled once and wiped the last remaining apple from her eye and tossed it to an empty corner of the room --this is important! Remember this-- before looking up at Rufus, her eyes red from apple juice. “Sorry ‘bout that. I plum recon I had an emotional response to outside stimuli or sumpin’.”

Rufus opened his mouth, about to tell her that he couldn’t care less, when he stopped. If he was going to follow up with Ost’ethe’s plan he’d need to start playing the part. 

“I…could care less,” he amended, implying that he did indeed care somewhat. He paused a moment to think before continuing this sentiment. “Your continued emotional stability is to my advantage.” 

Applejack flushed redder than an apple in Ju-ly, and averted her eyes awkwardly while kicking softly at the ground with one hoof, and flicking her ear at the air, and swishing her tail, and shaking her rump.

“Awful kind o' you ta say that. I’m glad I have a FRIEND like you during these hard times. I’d hate to be emotionally taken advantage of,” she finished with slow, heavy breaths, the musk of her sweat stench filling the room with her aroma. 

Rufus stopped and rubbed his chin with a free hand, opting to take his time before responding. Ost’ethe moved up into his ear and morse-coded a message into his ear drums. “Ask her on a date.”

Rufus' face scrunched up like a tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it (you thought I wasn’t going to abuse that overused joke anymore? Lol, you fucking imbecile!) 

“I’ve never been in that kind of relationship. I usually just have depraved sex before never seeing the target of my lust ever again,” he whispered to himself. 

“Think of it as foreplay,” the centipede countered, “long boring foreplay that has about a 14% chance of meandering into something else given your charisma.”

“Never tell me the odds,” Rufus hissed, “I was there when the old odds were written, witch.”

With that declaration Rufus switched his suave self into seduction mode, licking his hand and using his saliva to slick back his hair like he was a twelve-year-old girl in the shower that I'm trying to pretend is a twelve-year-old boy. He now looked exactly as sexy as Spongebob in that episode where he dates an underage high-schooler despite being in or approaching his early thirties. 

"I am genuinely interested in taking you to a location of your choosing and engaging in conversation with romantic undertones," he cooed, firing off a seductive one liner with the ferocity of a teenage rapper dissing someone's mom.

Applejack stammered and stuttered, eyes darting around the room as she blushed. 

"Gawrsh!" She replied, "ah don't know about all that, ah'm just comin out of a bad relationship. In fact ah ain't even broken up with him yet. Aheyuck!"

Rufus panicked internally, keeping his cool on the outside as he wracked his brain for a proper response.

"Well uhhhh...you ever play…basketball?" he stammered.

"Huwat is a got danged basketball, is that anythang like that there hoofegg mah boyfriend dun played?" 

Rufus couldn't understand a word of what she'd just said, but based on her intonation and the length of her statement, he assumed she was asking "no Rufus, you sexy thing, what is this 'bask-et-ball' you speak of?"

"It's a terribly boring sport where rich white people get to role play as slave owners, completely pointless too. Anyone who likes basketball has basically no life beyond watching tall people put balls in a basket."

"Sounds wretched."

"Oh like you wouldn't believe, it's just jog and shoot for three hours for ninety fucking games a year."

"Well that sounds a whole heck of a lot worse than hoofegg."

"Anyway, in basketball there's something called a 'rebound.' It's when a ball bounces off the basket and someone catches it. What I'm trying to get at is this: let's go find your soon-to-be ex, you can dump him, and I'll be your rebound."

Applejack scratched her chin like a cartoon character who is thinking, which is apt because she's a cartoon character who often thinks.

"In my current state of hormonal and emotional ruin, I am incapable of finding a flaw with that idea," Applejack replied.

Rufus merely chuckled and walked out the gaping hole that used to be a door, motioning for Applejack to follow as he went. He hadn't understood a word of her ghoulish drawl, but through context clues he was able to surmise one thing: tonight was date night.
> New Noo-noo Knew What To Do
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

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At both the best and worst of times, Twilight Sparkle is, above all else, a purple horse. This time however she certainly was not. Not even close.

As she shuddered and tried to clear the sedative-induced stupor she was in, she found herself unable to shake her head or rub her temples. These were the primary stupor-clearing techniques passed down from Sparkle to Sparkle, and she could no longer perform them, nor could she remember the circumstances leading to her current predicament. Something had to be done.

Unfortunately for Twilight, something may have been too tall a task. Try as she might, as hard as she flexed her muscles, her forelegs never moved. Figuring she was just finally in the early stages of adult onset diabetes, Twilight merely chalked it up to her limbs turning weak and gangrenous. She'd known the day would come eventually, and fired up a spell that would allow her to float around like a purple parade balloon.

Or, she tried to fire up a spell, but that didn't work either. No more were the sparkles for which her family had been named. There wasn't even a dull blink akin to a dying fluorescent bulb. 

Now was the time to worry, and worry Twilight did.

"What's happening to me?" Twilight thought,"Diabetes never impacts the magic glands! Something else must be causing these symptoms of mine."

In her state of immobility, Twilight was unable to even properly investigate, which, for a privileged little know-it-all, was incredibly frustrating.

"I'm a genius, damn it! I could easily figure out what's happening if only I could just MOVE!"

As if by command, in fact, pretty much by command, whatever Twilight's body was now managed to eek forward a few feet. It stopped just as suddenly, but this was something to go on.

Twilight quickly started calculating in her head. Whatever had happened to her, it had limited her nervous system, and now she had to directly think of an action to complete it. No matter, a smart horse like her thought all the time.

"Forward! Forward!"

As she careened in her chosen direction, she made use of her eyes, which thankfully still moved and blinked, to take stock of her surroundings. Thankfully the room she was in was small, gray, and unfurnished, making it extremely easy to describe.

While almost the entire room remained nondescript, one section of it actually had an irregularity. Instead of just a solid wall, there was a big, rectangular hole! Zounds!

With no other stimuli to go off of, Twilight resigned to wandering off down a big gray hallway, thinking "Forward! Forward!" as she went.

She sheepishly sped through a seemingly endless hallway. The walls of the spiraling walkway were intricately placed metal rickets that sloped toward each other from either side to meet above her. Between each ricket were panes of yellowed glass from which emanated a dull green glow. The light behind it was likely actually blue, but the yellowed glass gave it a ghoulish tint.

Eventually Twilight reached the end of the winding hall, which was sealed off by two curved metal doors with holes cut into them. Twilight feared this would be the end of her expedition, but once she'd gotten within three feet of them the doors slid open automatically.

"That's pretty fucking weird, it's like whoever put me here isn't even trying to keep me inside." She thought to herself, "At this rate I'll escape in no time. My captors must be fucking idiots."

As she marched through the doorway, she once again took stock of her surroundings. This room was considerably less nondescript than the one she'd woken up in. The room was colossal, and perfectly circular. Twilight could tell because she could recognize a perfect circle thanks to all her time staring at the Sun. Remember that? Well it was established earlier in the story whether you do or don't so eat shit.

The walls had the same build as the hallway, with the same garish light. This time however there were four windows set perfectly across from each other, which had the same holes as the doors. The cuts were arranged as beams emanating from a circle at the center, seemingly representing beams of light radiating off the Sun. Or maybe the pattern had nothing to do with the Sun, and Twilight's imagination is just heavily limited by the fact that she spends most of her time staring at or thinking about the Sun. That and eating shit.

Most daunting of all however, was the pillar at the center of the room. It was excessively rotund, and so tall it blended into the ceiling. Closer inspection revealed it to be adorned with lights, which blinked seemingly at random, and a myriad of levers and buttons one could only guess the functions of. 

Also in the room was an odd creature, wheeling itself around the room over and over again in a circle. It was blue, and kind of looked like a tipped-over trash can with a hose sticking out of it.

"What the fuck...what is that weird thing?" Twilight thought, understandably perplexed. 

As if reacting to her thoughts, the creature snapped its attention to Twilight Sparkle, it's glowing red googly eyes staring deep into her own. The gaze unnerved Twilight, and as she tried to become renerved, the beast charged.

"Nope!" Was all Twilight had time to think before she was forced to focus on telling her body to get the heck out of Dodge. She zoomed around the room as fast as she could, only keeping a slight distance from the monster that stuck its hose at her and sucked air as it ran after.

Of course Twilight didn't know where "Dodge" was, so it was a hard place to get the heck out of. Still, she did the best she could, choosing one of the few doors that littered the room, and hoping it wouldn't lead to a dead end.

She dashed(Not to be confused with ‘Rainbow Dash’ who is currently dead. Or is she?) through the portal, the tiled floor before her illuminated only faintly by a pair of recessed ceiling lumens, ejecting a fickle yellow light that did little to exorcise the shadows of machines. It was through these pathetic lights, and more specifically the soft glint reflected from a spilled liquid, that Twilight witnessed her undoing. Her octagonal brain, split into eight quadrants in mirrored form to her eight-nippled belly, fired on all fronts at once, working like a well-oiled octopus, sending mental commands to her body with the grace of an Olympic Brainstrainer. Even this, however, would not save her from this predicament.

As she hit the liquid-slicked floor tiles, all traction gave out and she fish-tailed, spinning on her axis, her momentum causing her to hydroplane. In the quick gyration, she caught the red-eyed gaze of her pursuer, a crazed look stenciled on his hard-plastic face like a leering carnival mask. She had no time to ponder on this, however, as her grip on the floor gave out, her speed pulling her body into a roll. She tumbled end over end, the adrenaline flooding her system slowing time and dulling the impact when her side collided with the floor, bouncing her into a second roll which ended similarly as she rammed into the ground, skidding a short distance before hitting the wall head-first. 

She sat there dazed, laying belly up on a sticky floor in a mostly-dark room, ragged breaths rushing from her mouth as the adrenaline rapidly wore off. The loud thumping of a nearby machine was the first thing she noticed, granting cadence to a chorus of clanks and thuds, and pulling her out of her momentary stupor. Flipped as she was, she looked up its side, noting that it seemed to be compressing and pumping some sort of orange liquid through a series of tubes. The inquisitive side of her brain became interested, but the growing sound of a whirring of wheels brought her back to reality.

Remembering her pursuer, she immediately scrambled to her hoofs, or at least she tried to. She couldn’t even feel her toes, much less move them. At this angle, it was simple to glance downward to see what was wrong with them- something she probably should have done in the first place- only to see that her legs were gone. In their place, grafted into her body on steel spokes where her shoulders were, was a set of little black wheels. Barely enough to hold her from the ground.

At her command, they spun in place, doing little in her compromised position. She tried to scream, but her mouth was no more, having been hollowed and stretched into a crude trunk.

 I have no mouth, and I must scream!, thought Twilight, fulfilling Chuck’s request for this portion of the chapter. The only orifice that made any sound was her icky girl vagina as it released some gas. GROSS!

In her moment of fear, she barely registered as Noo Noo approached, his bloodshot eyes looking down on his prey lustily. After uncounted years, his Overlords had finally seen fit to reward his dedication with a plaything of his own. He’d have smiled had he the faculties to do so. Instead he gazed down, taking in every detail despite the lack of light. Her purple body was barrel-shaped, but unlike his it was thin and sleek with oils, the layer of fuzz doing little to hide her eight perfectly-round nipples which stood erect from fear. 

Her vacuum mouth and wheel legs were the handiwork of purple Juggernaut, he knew, but unlike him, she had a gaping pussy, it’s insides as purple as her hair. Just the mere sight of her on the ground, face pressed into a pool of machine oil filled with the dried husks of dozens of insects that had found their way into this wretched place, never to escape, was enough to arouse him fully, and his member grew erect, extending to the same length and girth as his mouth vacuum. Just like his mouth, it was prehensile, and capped with a vacuum, though this side also blew out like a shopvac. 

He tentatively reached forward, as if fearing that this moment would suddenly end, before poking one of her erect nips with the tip of his lower vacuum. Twilight immediately moaned against her will, unable to control herself as the nipple touched stimulated that quadrant of her octogonal brain. 

Seeing this reaction, Noo Noo began strumming her nipples, eliciting odd moans. He continued this way for a few minutes, plucking her like a fiddle, before he grew tired of foreplay. He was about to take what he wanted. Finally, for the first time in millenia, Noo Noo was going to be in charge.
> Pretty Sugoi For A Soyboi
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Most of this chapter is written in Japanese. Since I sincerely doubt you undereducated cretins can understand one, let alone multiple, languages, I’ve translated the important parts in brackets [Like This].



Heh, I bet you’re wondering who I am. I was just your run-of-the mill ningen [human], living an absolutely ordinary life in my home of Japan [A country inhabited by asian humans calling themselves ‘Japanese’]. I speak Japanese [A language spoken by Japanese people] and eat rice balls [Jelly donuts]. 

That is, until one day when I saw a kiddo [Kid] running into the streat chasing a tama [Ball]. 

“Yamero! [Stop!]” I shouted, but a truck driver was doing 70 in a neighborhood and was about to hit her. I jumped out into the street, pushing the child away, but Truck-Kun [Truck Man] must always have his toll…

Needless to say, I was pretty confused when I woke up in another world. Or, at least I would be, had I not seen all my Japenese Animes [Cartoons] where that exact thing happens. Looking at my hands, which were now uma te [Horse Hands], I realized I must have been isekaid [Reincarnated] as an uma [Horse]. 

“NAAAANIIII! [WHAAAAT!]” I yelled. Thankfully, no one was around to hear me as I was in an alley. 

“Hmmmph, what do we have here?” Asked a strange voice. I turned my head to see some Yakuza Uma [Gang Horses] closing in. The one in front was bright yellow with giant green and magenta hair, revealing that he’s an important character. 

“Hmmm, so my raibaru [Rival] has been revealed…” I put an arm up, shadowing my face and looking sugoi [Awesome] as all heck. “Choose your kotoba [Words] carefully, for this is a fateful encounter,” I said, smiling sugoily [Cooly]. 

The uma pequitas [Small Horses] (which I was able to judge based on their relative size compared to the surrounding buildings and trash cans in the alley. That is, unless the buildings are uma tatemono [Horse Buildings]) scrunched his face in a way some would describe perhaps as a sochiki ato shita kamingu ni sore [A tissue after I’ve cummed in it]. “What? [Nani?] I don’t understand what you’re saying. Are you okay? Why are you yelling [Sakebu] in the alley behind my horse buildings [Uma Tatemono]?”

I couldn’t understand their uma gengo [Horse Language], so I decided to just attack before they could. I quickly got to my uma hiza [Horse Knees], the uma [Horses] gasping in concern as I revealed my true power. 

“Behold the power of Ningens [Humans], filthy Dōbutsu [Animals]!” Finally facing my true power, they ran off screaming, and I just laughed. 

“Baka [Fools],” I muttered, “you’re a thousand toshi [Years] too early to face me.” 

Now I just had to figure out what to do. I wandered out of the alley, the bright lights an afront to my otaku neet [Faggot] lifestyle. 

All around me were hundreds, maybe even dozens of karafuru uma [Colorful Horses] going about their daily lives. Just then, my onaka [Tummy Rumpler] went ‘doki doki’ [Rumbled], reminding me that uma [Horses] need food too. 

Shittu [Shit]... What do uma [Horses] taberu [Eat]? Oh yes, they eat kusa [Grass]. I looked down, seeing some green stalks sticking out from between the tamaishi [Cobblestone]. It didn’t look very daijobu [Good]. I’m the main character, no way would I stoop to eating kusa [Grass] like a kitanai uma [Filthy Horse]. I looked around, easily spotting what looked like a uma [Horse] supermarket. 

I’m sure there will be kalimari [Fish], rice balls [Jelly Donuts], sushi [Smelly Fish], tofu [White Cube], udon [Icky Soup], tempura [Fried Chicken Feet], ramen [Noodles], sashimi [Raw Fish], natto [Spider Eggs], Oden [The Allfather and leader of the Norse Mythological Pantheon of gods, residing in Valhalla with his trusted weapon ‘Gungnir’], and many, many other delicious things inside the supermarket.

My kuchi [Mouth] started watering just thinking about it. I immediately set off towards the supermarket to procure some food. 

This reminds me of an old Japanese [Japanese] proverb, I thought, ’He who does not eat, does not sumu [Live]’

As I neared the supermarket, I noted the revolving door at the front through which went a constant stream of uma [Horses] in and out. I’ve never used a revolving door before, but how hard could it be? Looking up, I couldn’t read the weird uma kanji [Horse Writing] which makes me feel a bit like a baka [Idiot]. 

Inserting myself into the line of horses entering the revolving doors, I couldn’t help but smirk. “All according to keikaku [Translator note: ‘Keikaku’ means ‘plan’].”

 As I neared the front of the lines, I pushed my way into the revolving door, however my timing must have been off. Having never used a revolving door, I realized my mistake a moment too late, and by then it was over. 

It started with a slight pinch, which quickly twisted into gut-wrenching pain from my rear end. I turned my head 180 degrees (something uma [Horses] can do) and saw what happened. All my life I was used to wearing pantsu [Pants], and therefore hadn’t factored in the fact that my nattsu [Nuts] were dangling behind me unadorned like a pair of fuzzy dice on a mirror. And now they were caught in the revolving door! 

I tried to stop, but the pressing throng of uma [Horses] was too much, and I was pushed forward and out, my testicles still snagged in the revolving door. I had but a single moment to gasp before I was pulled against the wall adjacent to the door as my balls were stretched like a glob of silly putty, bright pink with abuse. They made a full rotation, smacking me on the ass on the way by, before the fragile skin of my taint was unable to withstand the abuse any longer. It tore like a wet piece of newspaper, and like newspaper, it was re(a)d all over. 

Great gouts of Ketusueki [Blood] spurted from my sundered gooch as though from a pressure washer, redwashing the revolving doors and the uma [Horses] that continued to go about their day, passing in and out through the revolving door. I finally understand the pain women go through every month, but with my fragile male constitution, it was too much. I passed out, my last hope was that maybe next time I’d be isekaid [reincarnated] as something cool, like an aoi harinezumi [Blue Hedgehog] or something…
> A Tantalizing, Tittilizing, Totally Tubular Time Seducing Applejack for Post-Break-Up Trans-vaginator Success
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Once she'd snapped out of her depressed state Applejack immediately started taking action. She went right back to tracking her bf quickly and precisely, following his sizable path of destruction. Within minutes, she had found his location, and gotten right up in his big dumb face.

"Applejack!" He cried while Rufus observed gleefully, taking delight in the lummox's obvious obliviousness.

"Don't you be 'Applejackin' me boy, I dun found that wadded up tissue with your cum on it!" She screamed.

"It wasn't actually a wadded up tissue remember?" Rufus helpfully provided, "It was your dead best friend."

Applejack made a face that just SCREAMED "aw shucks I dun fergot y'all,"  while a big, loud laugh track played. Unfortunately they were canned laughs since the studio audience was ripped to shreds not long ago.

"That's right, it was muh dang ol' best frienderino," she said, becoming momentarily flanderized. Not as a character, she literally turned into Ned Flanders for an imperceptible amount of time, like even shorter than an attosecond, "how could ya go an' not only cheat on me, but also fuck mah best friend to death at the same time?"

From Rufus's point of view, Applejack's boyfriend was stonewalling the whole complaint, remaining as steadfast and nonchalant as Rufus himself.

"This guy's badass," he whispered under his breath.

In reality however, the reason Touch remained silent and inexpressive was because his poor brain was still trying to process Applejack's complaints. Try as he might, he couldn't find a definition for a term like "frienderino" and he couldn't piece together the enormous strings of sentences his beloved was vomiting upon him. He was happy to see her, he knew that. He also knew that she wasn't happy at all. Screaming in his face usually meant "not happy."

All this pattern recognition wasn't helping Touch's tired brain as it desperately searched for a conclusion to come to.

 Applejack was not happy. Not only that, but she was yelling at him.

"Mad." thought Touch, before elaborating on this thought out loud, "Applejack mad."

"No shit!" Applejack screamed.

"Awww," replied Touch, "me like shit."

"Me like shit too," Rufus supplied helpfully, perhaps once he'd fucked this guy's ex they could be bros, "but not diarrhea."

Applejack was surprised at this. Maybe she had more in common with Rufus than their extremely different appearances and personalities had indicated. Still though, she had a task to complete.

"HUUURRRRGGHH!" Screamed Applejack through grit teeth, "Y'all dun cheated on me!"

"Sorry," replied Touch, not knowing why he was apologizing. Or even what was going on in general. He knew his love was mad at him though, and instinctively his body apologized.

"Sorry ain't enough, this is the second time you've done this! I accepted when you dun fucked that gal to death in the hoofball game, that's customary fer the sport I get that. But you dun fucked mah friend...over pork chops."

In her emotional stupor, Applejack had forgotten that Touch couldn't possibly comprehend a word of that drivel. Once that fact dawned on her, the anger nearly faded from her face, as she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Applejack no date you. You bad boyfriend." She sobbed simply, before turning and trotting off, leaving a trail of apples in her wake.

"Gyarsh, I sure hope none of those hit me in the balls," Rufus muttered as he took off after her for like the fourth fucking time.

Admittedly seven words had been pushing it, and pushing hard, but as Touch stood motionless while his lover and some strange rat thing ran off, he managed to accurately process what Applejack had said. She was done with him. He was alone. Realizing that his Applejack was gone, made him remember that his little puppy was dead too.

First Meeples, now his beloved Applejack.

It had been a long time since he'd been without Applejack. 

"Cry," ordered Touch Down, and cry his body did.

After a few minutes of running and crying, Applejack finally stopped, allowing Rufus to catch up to her, get down on all fours, and try desperately to catch his breath.

"Ah appreciate you joinin' me fer that, you really kept me on topic."

"Yeah, no problem," gasped Rufus as sweat poured down his chinny chin chin. Unless naked mole rats don't have sweat glands in which case he was wet for an unknown reason.

"Yeah I just looked it up on my phone," said Ots'ehte, "you don't have sweat glands."

"Then what the hell is all this liquid?" inquired Rufus, before looking up. He was greeted with the lovely sight of an orange horse vagina blasting him with piss.

"There, you're properly dressed up for our date," said Applejack as she unleashed the final spurts of piss, which sputtered like a garden sprinkler. 

Rufus blushed, having almost forgotten that he was about to go on a real date with a genuine horse woman. 

"Ah know just where ta go too," she exclaimed as she pranced off with Rufus in tow.  After a while they came upon a distinctly fancy section of town, with a classy cobblestone road. 

"Tony's! Of course!" She cried, motioning to a simple Italian restaurant, with a light-up purple-and-green sign that read "TONY'S."

"The very place for a very special occasion." she continued, walking up to the front.

As they passed the front door, Rufus turned to enter, but Applejack was swift to correct him.

"No! This way, I have my own private entrance," she declared, before sauntering down an alleyway to the side of the building.

Rufus followed, somewhat confused. It wasn't the worst alley he'd ever been to. It was pointedly devoid of any sort of rapists or violent vagrants, and there was even a crate of various green vegetables all still fresh for some reason.

"Wait here." Applejack instructed, before creeping up to a half-open Dutch door and scratching at it with her hoof.

"Just-a wait a minute, I'm-a comin. I'm eh-" Came a boisterous Italian voice from within the restaurant, before a massive pony (both in terms of girth and height) poked his head through the top of the Dutch door. He looked around, confused, "what's-a goin on, someone is makin-a da April Fool of-a-"

The colossal Italian was cut off yet again, this time by several sharp, loud barks. He looked down to see his favorite customer in the world sitting patiently outside, panting as she wagged her tail.

"Ooooohhh Apple-a-jack!" He exclaimed excitedly, "Where have-a you been-a so looong?"

He opened the bottom half of the Dutch door, which if you didn't know and are too inept to figure out through context clues, is one of those doors that splits in half across the width, it's not a set of double doors, idiot. You've probably seen them in cartoons. I read about them in books. When was the last time you read a book? Oh right, you're fifty thousand words deep into Kim Possible: A Sitch in Equestria, how could I forget?

As he came outside to greet her, Applejack hopped around and spun in a circle, still wagging her tail.

"Hey Joe, look who's here!" Called the pony to someone inside.

Another pony, just as tall but much skinnier, and with a far larger moustache, wandered into view of the main characters and squealed like a delighted Italian.

"Well-a whattayaknow, it's-a Apple-a-jack!" He exclaimed as Applejack tackled the fatter pony, lathering him with many kisses.

"Hey, hey, hey, Joe," said the rotund pony through chuckling fits, "bring some-a bones for Apple-a-jack before she-a eat me up okay?"

"Okay Tony, Okay. Bones-a comin' up!" Joe replied from inside the kitchen as he tossed various animal bones into a dog bowl.

Meanwhile, Applejack tugged at Tony's apron and lead him over to Rufus, who stayed right the fuck where he was. No way was this giant gonna intimidate him.

"No way are you intimidating me, giant." He even said, proving what I said earlier about how he wouldn't be intimidated.

"Ehhhhh, what's this? Hey Joe! Apple-a-jack has-a got herself a new-a boyfriend!"

This eased Rufus's nerves a bit, not that he was intimidated or anything. He wasn't! He's just a little nervous around new people. Still, this monster was making a pretty good wingman so far. 

"Well-a son of a gun!" Cried Joe, who'd walked over while I was talking about Rufus, "she's-a got a naked mole rat boy!"

As Joe walked off to go get the bowl of bones, Tony leaned in close to Applejack and smiled mischievously.

"He's a pretty sweet one eh? He'll never die of cancer! You take-a Tony's advice and-a settle down with this-a one, eh?"

"This-a one?" Inquired Rufus, having not understood a word of that drivel.

"This-a one. Oh! That there got-danged Tony not-a speak-a English so good." 

As far as Rufus was concerned, both of them shared that trait.

"Now first, fix-a the table!" Declared Tony as he set out a half barrel with a tablecloth over it, before setting out a small basket of bread sticks (aw ethesto remember the bread sticks bit from Republican Bureau? These peons never got to read that awesome joke we perfected together) and a candle in a wine bottle.

"Here's-a your bones, Tony!" Interrupted Joe, holding up a big bowl of juicy bones that glistened in the candlelight.

"Okay bones...Bones?!? What's the matter for you, Joe?" Screamed Tony as he grabbed Joe by the throat and momentarily attempted to squeeze the life out of him, "I break-a you face! Tonight-a, Apple-a-jack, she's-a get a-best in house!"

"Okay Tony," muttered Joe as soon as he could breathe again before he turned and trudged back into the kitchen, "you da boss."

"Now-a do tell," squealed Tony as he softened his demeanor and turned to his non-paying customers, "what's your pleasure? A la carte? Dinero?"

Applejack once again replied with a series of barks, while Tony nodded as though he perfectly understood.

"Aha, hey Joe! Apple-a-jack, she says she wants-a two spaghetti especiale." Yelled Tony, "Heavy on a meat-a-ball."

Inside the kitchen sat Joe, confused.

"Tony, Apple-a-jack don't-a talk."

 "Well she's-a talkin' to me!" Screamed Tony, yet again ready to choke a motherfucker.

"Okay, she's-a talkin' to you!" Replied Joe as he got to work on the spaghetti, "You the boss, mamma mia."

"Oh they want-a me to go heavy on the meat-a-ball eh?" He mumbled angrily as he poured multiple bottles of cow laxatives into his big boiling pot, "Joe-a gonna give them-a the heaviest-a meat-a-ball they ever seen!"

Once Joe was finished, he handed a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs to Tony, who walked out and served it to the mentally ill freeloaders in his midst.

"Now here you are-a, the best-a spaghetti in a-town!" He declared, before running back into the kitchen.

"So those guards from earlier, what was that about?" Asked Rufus, making small talk 

"What n' the gawsh dern heck do ya mean ya friggin' varmint?" 

"We just popped into a clubhouse real quick and they pretty much forgot I existed." Rufus replied.

"Ah, they didn't 'pretty much' ferget, they did ferget. Them crystal-brains lack object permanence, not like the pegasi ones."

"Is that what's up with your ex?"

"Nah Touch is just fuckin' stupid,  he's capable of small amounts of thought. Got basic pattern recognition when he really puts his mind to it too."

"So what's with all the barking?" Asked Rufus as he slurped up a long strand of spaghetti like it was an Earth Pony intestine and he was a Teletubby.

Applejack chuckled, "I'm tricking them into believing I think I'm a dog so they'll give me free meals."

Rufus laughed, harder than he had in a long time, before scarfing down another meatball.

In a flash Tony was back, this time with an accordion.

"Ohhhh this is the niiight, it's a beautifuuul niiight, and we caaalll it Bella nooootteee." He sang as he danced in place, occasionally glancing at the unholy couple as they ate.

"What about the Pegasus soldiers?" Rufus asked, hoping that somehow, Pegasus Character had been dumb enough not to suffer.

"Oh they're fully sentient like you er' me. Why do you ask."

"Just curious." He replied, holding back tears.

Rufus noticed that there was now a single meatball left, and instinctively he grabbed it, before realizing he'd better give it up if he wanted any pussy. Reluctantly, he put it back on the plate, and nudged it over to Applejack's side. She blushed, before gracefully swallowing it whole without even tasting it.

Rufus watched this in amazement, absentmindedly slurping a seemingly endless spaghetti strand. As he did, Applejack leaned down and sucked up a strand of her own.

"Hey, did ya hear about that guy who got his balls stuck in a revolving door earlier today?" Applejack asked with a smile.

"What? That's crazy, no I didn't fuckin' hear about that at all! What happened?"

"Some crazy pony nobody's seen before dun started screamin' in some indecipherable language and runnin' around," she explained, waving her hooves dramatically, "an' he runs into a supermarket an' gets his balls caught, stretched, an' torn completely off!"

"Ouch," said Rufus, clutching his balls that were still sore from the maelstrom of apples they'd endured already, "what happened to him?"

"Oh he died in the hospital." She replied, before returning her attention to her food. 

They were past small talk, and simply sat together, enjoying the music and taking in the romance of the charming cobblestone alley as they ate.

Before they knew it, they were both slurping the same strand, and in a few short slurps, their lips collided, snapping them out of their stupors. They stayed like that for a moment, before Rufus blushed and turned away.

"For thiiis is the niiight, and the heavens are riiight, on this looovely bellaaaa notteeeeeeeee."
> Fantastic Sex Scenes and Where to Find Them
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight released a quick little huff of air from her vacuum hose as she felt Noo-Noo's colossally long nozzle-tipped cock tense up inside of her for the umpteenth time. She cringed as she felt the gush of chunky, grey ejaculate strain once again against the innermost depths of what remained of her reproductive organs. As the deluge of rancid goop reached the limits of Twilight's vaginal capacity, it oozed back around Noo-Noo's cock, forming a slimy semen sleeve at least half an inch thick. This sleeve ran down the submerged length of cock before it reached the end point, sloshing out of the gaped pussy that housed it with a loud sound comparable to wet Jell-O. This vile-smelling reproductive liquid seeped and dripped, either running down Twilight's bulky back or flat out spattering onto the floor. Once there, it joined the congealed, ever-growing grey pool surrounding them.

By this point, the act of inserting a dick into Twilight and cumming inside her was akin to finding a dead horse, and beating the shit out of it. Perhaps even moreso, it was like cumming inside a tissue and then scrunching it up. Still, Noo-Noo persisted, not understanding that yeah, we get it already, you're cumming inside of a genetically-altered Twilight Sparkle. Good for you, you're still a vacuum that eats Teletubby shit.

Thud!

Noo-Noo's penis clenched like a vice, and also like my hand around a cum-filled tissue that I'm scrunching up. Whatever the simile, Noo-Noo's penis clenched, instantly cutting off the endless river of gravy-colored cum. Twilight didn't know why the cum had stopped, she hadn't been able to hear the thud over all the cum vibrating her insides, but she was thankful for the reprieve. 

What she did hear were the several other subsequent thuds, and they shook her to the bone when she remembered where she was.

"NOO-NOO! BAD!" Came a thunderous bellow from an irate(gamer) Tinky Winky.

Noo-Noo's eyes ceased their malicious red glow, and his cock shrunk back into his body, pulling out of Twilight very quickly all at once. Her abused hole twitched and gaped as it struggled to adjust to the lack of a huge dick oozing cum inside of it. Such an attempt proved unnecessary, as Tinky Winky shoved his entire fist and forearm inside of Twilight's pussy all at once, and proceeded to pick her up and wave her around like a hand puppet.

"MINE! MINE, NOO-NOO!" He screamed at his shit-eating slave. In truth, he wasn't all that upset. He'd intended to breed his two Noo-Noo until each of his friends had two new Noo-Noo to call their own. Then they could eat as much tubby custard as they wanted, without having to worry about who would be eating their shit. Still, he'd made a disgusting mess all over the floor. It was unlikely, given her incredible ability to handle even shit and farts, but Tinky Winky had some worry that this cum would clog his new Noo-Noo.

In one swift motion, Tinky Winky grabbed his old Noo-Noo, and tossed him into a dusty closet to think about what he'd done. Then, he placed his new Noo-Noo in front of the massive lake of clammy jizz and yanked his fist out of her pussy.

"Clean it up," he said in perfect English while pointing to the cum. One might wonder then, why he'd only been saying 'tubby custard' this whole time. In truth, he never stopped, Twilight understands him now because she's a Noo-Noo. Is that okay? Are you going to cry about it?

In any case, Twilight wanted to tell him "fat chance, tubby, I only drink Shining Armor's cum."

Instead of that however, she extended her mouth-vacuum, and began to slurp up the mass of repugnant ooze.

"Why am I doing this?" thought Twilight, evidently not comprehending that there's no point to a self-aware vacuum cleaner that can choose to disobey you.

Her smart, new Noo-Noo body understood this in place of her dumb, old pony brain, and it happily sucked up the toxic muck, even as her taste buds urged her to stop. 

Her new, state-of-the-art digestive tract swiftly converted the nutrients into energy, while at the same time converting useless materials into gaseous waste. The waste traveled through her colon, rocketing down her rectum, and built up against her mighty sphincter, which had been spared Noo-Noo's cock for now.

"BRAAAAAAAAAAP" said Twilight's asshole, as Tinky Winky stuck his face up real close so his nose could listen.

"Mmmm, the digested cum really gives these braps a pleasant fragrance," mused Tinky Winky, "it reminds me of Spring."

"He's a connoisseur," she thought to herself as she tried to get her mind onto anything besides grey cum, "with taste in farts like that, perhaps, in another life...I could have called him, friend."

As he savored the aromas that worked out from Twilight's chocolate starfish, Tinky Winky couldn't help but revel in his luck. Not only had he stumbled upon a top-of-the-line Noo-Noo to call his very own, but he'd found one that even doubled as an air-freshener/brap factory. As of late he'd been having the best time of his life. Seemingly all thanks to these little horses, who functioned as entertaining punching bags, as well as excellent Noo-Noo.

As he pondered, he realized there must be other ponies as good at eating shit and farting as the one he'd taken and transformed. For a second he thought, "what if one of those thousands had the prowess of this purple one."

The tiniest bit of regret flashed into his mind. It was quickly snuffed out.

There had been thousands, surely there were more. After all, they had to have come from somewhere. Everything comes from somewhere, no matter what the atheists tell you. Don't listen to them, they're going to hell. As he watched the sea of semen shrink to a pond, he vowed to himself to share this splendor with his friends. Especially Po, with her dummy thicc cheeks.

In a matter of minutes, the cum puddle had been reduced to mere droplets, and the braps had all but ceased. Once the mess was all cleaned up, Tinky Winky reinserted his fist into Twilight's pussy and lifted her up off the floor. He carried her over to the beeping machine, and pressed a big button on it.

"It's time for Teletubbies," a voice called out from a loudspeaker multiple times.

With that done, Tinky Winky wobbled to the door that lead outside, Twilight's pussy still wrapped around his fist. 

As they ventured outside together Twilight's mind raced. Why was she being taken outside? Whatever the reason, this was her chance to escape. She revved her little Noo-Noo wheels and wiggled her hose, trying desperately to get her pussy off the Teletubby fist so she could run away.

She was so focused on trying to run away, that she paradoxically had no idea how to react when Tinky Winky placed her in the grass and removed his hand from her vagina yet again.

She stayed in her spot, shaking fearfully as she stared up at her captor/surgeon.

"Go home," he said, simply.

Twilight dashed off in the direction of Ponyville at a speed she'd never been able to run with her obese old pony body.

"Why is he letting me run away? I thought he wanted a new vacuum." She thought to herself as she ran. It didn't make sense, why go to all the trouble of performing surgery on her, completely changing her, just to let her go? Whatever the reason, she'd have to tell the other ponies-

"The other ponies!" The realization hit her like a ton of brick-shaped pieces of Teletubby shit. They wanted the other ponies too. To play with, to rip apart, to eat. But most of all, to turn them into the same thing they'd turned her into: a shit-eating vacuum that drinks cum and farts.

She tried to change course and lead the Teletubbies on a wild goose chase, but try as she might, she was completely incapable. She'd been ordered to go home, so that was where she had to go. 

"I'm helpless…"Twilight moped, as her body carried her off to deliver death and unimaginable torment onto the general populace of her little town.

Tinky Winky waved as he watched his new Noo-Noo go off to her home for the last time. As he watched, he stroked his cock to the view of her cum-soaked Noo-Noo pussy that was still gaping from his fist. He hated to see her go, but he loved to watch her leave.

Before he could finish, and kill another patch of grass with his functionally-herbicidal sperm, he was joined by his kin, so he edged his fat hog for a bit, not wanting to look like a premature ejaculator in front of his friends.

"Tubby custard," he called out, as if to say, "let's go get you guys your own brand new Noo-Noo!"

The other Teletubbies exchanged excited glances, Dipsy even did the beta-male soyboy smile from Reddit where you show all your rotting teeth. Isn't that funny? Then, as a happy Teletubby family, they set off to go murder and mutilate more colorful ponies.





"Piss n titties Piss n titties Piss n titties Piss n titties Piss n titties Piss n titties

Hey gurl, I noticed you watchin' me pee.
Don't worry babe it gets me off when you look at me.
But that's sexual assault ya see because technically.
You're a peeping Tom who didn't get no consent from me.

Time to get em out yeah I said whip out ya tits.
I noticed you're a pony and that means you've got six.
Start showing off your nips so I can coat them in piss.
A flash of ecstasy when your milk and my lemonade mix.

Piss n titties!" Rufus finished, taking a bow.

Applejack clacked her hooves together as fast as she could, tears streaming down her face, and lady juice streaming down her inner thighs.

"Gawsh, what a beautiful song, if only ((Unnamed Moderator on this Website)) wasn't such a gargantuan motherfucking faggot. Then the original rendition of it might still exist."

"Yeah he's a pretty pathetic individual. But give him a break, he's got nothing in his life besides being one of the worst moderators on a My Little Pony fanfiction website. That means reading terrible stories about this stupid show written by people more autistic than even himself is a job for him. A job he doesn't get paid for. You'd be exactly as joyless and unlikeable if you'd wasted the better half of a decade doing that right? I know I would be. I'd turn into the kind of person who pretends that rejecting Ethesto's stories is upholding some sort of artistic standard on the site, then approve a story about futa Twilight Sparkle getting all the dirt licked off her feet by Human in Equestria."

"You're right, he's not just an autistic femboy who takes My Little Pony fanfiction totally seriously," mused Applejack, "he's all that and a hypocrite."

They both shared a hearty laugh, Applejack finally experiencing what it’s like to be the high-horse, and Rufus wanting to get on the high horse and ride into town in a mockery of that one Taylor Swift song. As their laughter petered out, their eyes met, and blush cells assaulted their cheeks. 

Just then, Ots'ehte had to ruin the mood as he so often does. “Now’s your chance,” he urged, strumming the fine hairs inside Rufus’ ear hole like an epileptic harpist. 

A sudden bout of nervousness welled up within Rufus’ sternum, and his overstretched sweat glands bubbled out like gauged earlobes before expelling fowl globules of sweat that arced through the air like water balloons. Held together by capillary action, they reflected light in dancing patterns which mesmerized in a brilliant facsimile of precious gems before impacting noisily into the pavement and soaking the area in sticky pools of Rufus gunk. 

His knees got weak, his palms were sweaty, and his sweater was in the washing machine because he vomited on it already. Despite his usual cool demeanor, it’s a little-known fact that Rufus is actually a virgin. A fact he hides zealously by having loads of unprotected sex. As such, the idea of losing his V-card is somewhat intimidating, causing him to lose his composure a bit. 

“Say Applejack,” he begins to say, and also finishes to say. 

“Ya, what is it?” Applejack answers, orange and also with blonde hair and a trio of apples on her backside, as usual. 

“Let’s say we t-take this r-r-relationship to the next l-level?” He sputters out. Fiddling with his hands while refusing to make eye contact.

“What like going to Outland from Vanilla? But I can’t afford the new expansion.” Applejack is poor because kicking trees isn’t a real job. 

Rufus whistles air through the loogie that’s taken form in his gizzard like an epileptic tin whistle, before vomiting the glob over Applejack’s head and into the alley onto some stray dogs. “W-well, not exactly…”

“What are you doing?!” Ots'ehte demandingly whispers in that way that centipedes do, “I’ve seen Adam Sandler movies more romantic than this!”

“I’m getting there!” Rufus angrily spits, the sound and saliva curving like a boomerang into his own ear and catching Ots'ehte in the eye. 

“Yuh say sumthin’?” Asks Applejack, daintily picking her nose with one of her tree-kicking legs. The nostril stretches and distorts as she shoves her grapefruit-sized hoof into it, showing a veritable forest of hairs. Rufus lowers his head to get a better view, his jaw hanging agape as he catches sight of her inner sanctum. 

“Uh… No…” He responds absently, imagining sticking his whole head up there as she continues to pick, her horse nail dredging both aged, crusted boogers- completely devoid of moisture- as well as those still full of vim and vigor. With a casual flick, she tossed them from her cavernous nostril, grapeshotting them across the alley wall and also across Rufus’ body. 

He shivers, his shriveled wee wee becoming ever-so-slightly less shriveled as he was coated in her substance. 

“Whatya lookin’ at?” She wondered, sitting on her haunches as she simultaneously moved her second leg up to root through her other nostril, displaying a level of flexibility and skill that Rufus had to admire. Who knew her legs were good for something other than just kicking trees and also walking(because that’s what legs do)?

Rufus inched ever closer, able to see nearly 45 degrees into her gaping anterior naris, which were stiff, cylindrical, and green like an inverse Mountain Dew can. But what really caught his eye were the hairs. So many thousands and millions of hairs. Enough to put Rainfurrest to shame. He leaned forward even more, now practically underneath her, gazing straight up into her nostrils as she continued to pick, brittle chunks of ejecta landing in his open eyes and dissolving into his pupils. 

She snorted slightly, causing the crisp walls to jiggle, a powder of green snow turning its interior into a winter wonderland before she breathed in, subsuming the wasted biomatter, her innards reformatting it into fresh boogers. As he gazed upwards into that abyss, the naked mole rat felt so truly naked, vulnerable before a yawning chasm. He wondered how easily it would be for him to simply slip inside, never to be seen again. Gone forever in the unending subway of slime, his screams lost in a symphony of snot. 

He pulled away, “Nothing.”

Applejack removed both legs from her nose and rolled her body over forwards, returning them to their resting positions. Ots'ehte, who has, at this moment finally finished wiping the spit and sound from his eye, resumes his centipede prattling. “I guess it’s up to me isn’t it?” 

He begins playing bongo drums while simultaneously rubbing his legs together in a facsimile of violins before he starts singing.

“We need something
From that horse across the way,
She has apples-for-brains,
But there’s somethin’ about her,

Nervousness won’t fly,
Centipedes gonna try to make you,
Fuck the girl”

“Did you hear something?” Applejack asks.

“Come on, just do it
Put it in her roast-beef shoe,
Imagine all the pussy goo,
You don’t even have to ask her,

Just pull out your dong, 
Play her a skin flute song,
Go on an’ fuck the girl.

Re-re-re-re-re-re-really fast, my patience won’t last,
Go on and fuck the girl!
Pe-pe-pe-pe-pe-pe-penetrate her before it’s too late,
Or you’ll have blue balls for sure.”

Rufus sits up, “you know, I too am something of a scientist.” 

Applejack perks up, “Oh?”

“I memorized the periodic table of elements,” Applejack’s eyes widened upon hearing this, realizing that Rufus is both cute and a genius. “Check this out; Hydrogen.”

Applejack scrunched her face up like a tissue after I’ve cummed into it.

“Ugh… Helium. Lithium.” He continued, and she began clopping her forelegs together like a happy seal as he showed off his skills. “Ummm, shi-” He didn’t remember what came next. 

“Beryllium, next is beryllium,” Ots'ehte whispered into his ear hole. 

“Beryllium!” he yelled triumphantly, getting a hoot and a holler out of her. He polished his chest with his knuckles in satisfaction of being able to show off his special talent.

“Nooows your chance,
Get up in that red lagoon,
Boy you better do it soon,
Or I’m gonna start screaming.

Don’t leave me dry, 
Get me between those thighs,
You gotta fuck the girl.

Sa-sa-sa-sa-sa-salami slap her in her turkey flap,
Go on and fuck the girl!
Me-me-me-me-me-me-mess her up, you’ve got some cum to dump,
You wanna fuck the girl!
Pu-pu-pu-pu-put your weiner in, fill up her holes with sin,
I’m saying fuck the girl!
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-tap that ass, and make it fast,
You gotta fuck the girl!

Rufus unsheathes his dick, and applejack’s eyes widen with childish delight as it inflates like a long clown balloon but made out of meat. Its tip throbs, and, true to his creed as an echidna, if I'm remembering that correctly, it’s ribbed with serrated spikes that would make even your whore mother think twice. Applejack, however, was not daunted, as she’d seen bigger and meaner. 

“Not quite as big or intimidating as Touch Down’s,” she admits while eyeballing its size. This causes Rufus to deflate slightly, his abundant foreskin sagging like a popped Barnie at the Macy’s Day Parade. 

“But I guess it’s alright,” she relented, feeling extra horny since Touch Down hadn’t fucked her in over an hour. 

“Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Rufus exclaimed, pointing a single finger towards the sky as his wee wee returned to full mast, catching wind and slowly pulling him closer to his target.

“But we’re in a public alley,” Applejack said, nervously looking around at the pair of pony shop-owners who were still standing nearby, observing the whole thing. “I mean, ruff ruff.” 

“Awwww, Apple-a-jack about to get-a the massive-a cock,” said Tony, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“And we-a get-a front-a row seats!” Joe responded, gazing lovingly at Rufus’ dangling scrote as it sanded the pavement with every movement, wondering what manner of pasta he could whip up with them meatballs(And also he’s gay and likes dudes and male genetalia). 

Unperturbed (as though he could possibly be perturbed in the first place), Rufus continues sliding forward, riding the wind like he was about to ride Applejack’s dank horse vagina, which is to say ‘with his dick’. 

“Yes! YES!” Ots'ehte cheered, ready to finally be in his new home. He could practically taste victory in the air, and it tasted faintly of Rufus’ precum which was so hot that it evaporated long before leaving the tip, wafting out like a perfume and filling the alley with its heat and scent as though a cum fog had rolled in. 

Applejack layed down on her back right on the dirty asphalt like a fucking animal, presenting all six of her horse nips, and most importantly her salivating salami sock. It oozed applesauce, pooling on her taint and gumming up her tail. 

Rufus’ vision was starting to redshift, all blood rushing to the secondary brain inside his Peepee, and Throbulator, the Devastator, as it came to be named, assumed control, propelling his body towards the absolute certainty of hot, painful sex. 

Right before entering, Ots'ehte scurried out of Rufus’ ear, down his body, along the shaft of his weiner and into its tip, shoving his way inside like a cotton swab. Each of his hundred legs tickled Throbulator, the Devestator’s throat, making him want to sneeze his payload of scalding, mildly-basic semen. But, with a demonic fortitude, he kept it in if but for a moment. The time was not yet right. 

Inching forward, he was so close he could almost taste it. Their genitals were practically touching. The only barrier between them was an illusion, a falsehood, long overcome by their will to fuck. Ots'ehte would take his seat on his rightful throne, and like a king, he’d look down on his kingdom from on high. Would he be a righteous king who ruled justly, with a level head, always putting his faith in matters of fact, reason, and magic marbles? Or would he rule with scorn, smiting those he deemed unfit and sowing suffering upon his subjects? Only time would tell. 

Rufus managed to rub his last few brain cells together in his drained state, enough to smile. Victory was certain, he need not even try, only sit back and wait for inevitability as he has sex with Applejack. It would be a bitter victory, knowing his hardships had finally yielded fruit(apples), but that would only make it more sweet. He contemplated this and more as Throbulator, the Devastator neared its terminus, knowing that in the end he won. A solitary tear rolled down his face, devoid of salt as all salt in his body was currently designated to his testicles, thinking back on his childhood. His parents never thought he’d achieve anything. 

“Ha, look at me now, dad.” He whispered, knowing that his dad couldn’t actually see because he was in hell. 

His dad did see, though, as a ghost, because Equestria is hell. And he jacked off as he watched, splooging ectoplasm onto Rufus’ ass. His mom wasn’t there though because girls don’t have souls. 

Applejack, meanwhile, was lazily waiting. She knew it wasn’t going to be half as good as when Touch Down fucked her, but she’d have to put up with it. She sighed, knowing that this is her life now. At least Rufus had a good personality? For all the good that did…

As they inched closer and closer, anticipation grew, the corona of Rufus’ massive meat monstrosity slowly eclipsing her no-no-zone, everyone in the area held their breath as though a great tragedy was about to unfold. Not even a pen drop could be heard, heart beats slowed to a halt and birds stood still in the sky. He was so so close. Even a millimeter more and he’d be there! HIs ultimate goal was about to come to fruitition(Apple). There was no holding back now! Nothing could stop the inevitability of this moment!

Then Twilight rolled around the corner.
> Untapped, Untamed, Unabashed, Pure Sexual Aggression - The Chapter Where Rufus Fuck-Murders Two Main Characters At The Same Time And Also Your Face Scrunches Up Yet Again Like A Tissue After I've Cummed Into It
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Moments earlier…

Twilight’s widdle wheels wizzed and whirred in a high-pitch dirvish as she bounced over leaves and branches like an RC car on horse steroids. She traveled over the forest floor with an unholy speed, spooking wildlife and deadlife both with the ease of her locomotion. At one point a little squirrel stopped cold in its tracks, fear-struck as she came speeding from the bushes on a direct collision course. While it hesitated with terror and indecision, she did not, and simply ran it over. It burst like a water balloon, propelling slick guts and simultaneously greasing her gears and coating her swollen nipples in the most satisfactory way. Now, it was dead in her tracks.

And on she went. Inside, her mind was telling her no, but her body… Her body was telling her yes! Despite her best efforts she couldn’t go against her captor’s commands. As she rolled over a particularly-familiar-looking rock, she realized she was nearly at town. Within minutes she’d be exiting the forest, and she’d lead those horrible demons right to all her friends, who would be promptly mashed like potatoes under the TeliTubbie's scrumptious feet. 

On the bright side, this would make for one killer friendship report. 

Momentarily distracted by these distressing thoughts, it was only when she finally exited the treeline did Twilight truly realize where she was. Within sight, she could see Fluttershy’s trashy house across the field, and she knew beyond that lay town. As close as she was now, it seemed her body wouldn’t let her take the scenic route, and she was set for a direct collision course for the house. 

“Oh heckies,” she moaned, but inside her head, since she has a voice box within her frontal lobe like all ponies do. A shot of adrenaline pumped through her veins as she barreled full-speed towards the back door of Fluttershy’s home, and for a few brief moments she was able to take in the whole world in startling detail. 

Her nostrils expanded to three-times their normal size allowing her to savor a wide variety of stenches; the musky stink of nature, the feminine reek of her own retched girl-parts mixing with her almost Applejack-like habit of farting that mixed stink clouds in with her dirt clouds and made tiny vortexis behind her, the spine-chilling miasma of decay which lay behind signalling her captors were ever close, and the stale smell of old piss and shit which came from Fluttershy’s halfway-obliterated home. 

Her two eyes, already large in comparison to any normal living creature, expanded to 20% of their natural size as they soaked adrenaline from her surrounding face, making her not only see better, but also making her at least 20% cooler 8). Her gaze swept across the home, identifying wood. Then she saw the back window, at which crowded the dilapidated and mummified remains of dozens of animals. Their little paws were outstretched towards the light of the sun, yet they had no means of reaching it, and they shrivelled in their shit-stained prison. 

Fluttershy really ought to take better care of her pets.  Twilight thought innocently as she careened through the still-intact back door, splintering the old, rotted wood with ease. The shit-caked remains of the house and the shitrified(petrified in shit) animal corpses that dotted the destroyed innards of the house set off her new Noo-Noo instincts. In a flash she was slurping up every crusted flake of Touch's dried diarrhea from earlier. She could tell it was his from the taste. By the time she was done the house would've been spotless, if it weren't for the fact that there was broken furniture strewn about the interior. All at once her upgraded digestive tract processed and expelled her meal, unleashing a cyclone-inducing fart that smashed a weathered load-bearing post in the center. Her task complete, Twilight opted to head further into Ponyville.

Within seconds her body careened through a window, and she launched through the air, seemingly in slow-motion as glass shards and a cloud of dust spun around her. Then her gland reabsorbed all the adrenaline it had released causing her perception to go back to normal and she continued along. Behind her, the ravaged remains of Fluttershy's cottage gave a final pathetic creak, before collapsing inward.

Despite this sense of impending doom, it is nice to be home. Maybe I can run over Spike when I get back to the library. But she wasn’t heading to the library. At that very moment, a scent caught her attention. A particularly smelly smell of something that smelled both smelly and also like intense pharoahmones (two words cleverly-combined to describe pheromones given off by a king, or an alpha of sorts). One whiff and she was immediately dripping wet. 

Her body needed no instructions, and she sped off towards the center of town to find the source with a renewed vigor. Ponies jumped out of the way as she sped full-tilt in a swerving, erratic display, not using turn-signals, in a way that could only be described as ‘Virginia driving’. 





There was a loud squeaking in Rufus’ legs as he pumped the brakes, his absurdly-sweaty meat mast so close to Applejack’s ooey gooey cheesy girl-zone that her crabs had to go around it on their daily commute to work (chewing that dank puss-puss), and his whole body shuddered and whirred as he sat in neutral as though at a red light, and not the kind of red light from a red light district which would make sense considering the sexual connotation, but more like the kind on a road because this is a metaphor for cars not that area downtown where sex workers go about their business. 

There was a rush of air as all heads in the area turned at once, dozens of blood-shot eyes locking onto the android Twilight as she came to a shrieking halt on the pavement, kicking up loose bits of asphalt. They simply stared at each other for several long moments. Twilight, confused at what she’d just wandered into, couldn’t help but have her gaze drawn to the ‘elephant in the room’. By which I mean Rufus’ erect peni. And she gasped, the butterflies in her stomach giving one last desperate escape as they beat against her tummy walls before succumbing to her digestive juices like the rest of their kin. 

Applejack looked at Twilight’s slick new wheel legs, and couldn’t help but be a bit jealous of her kick-ass rims. Then her eyes sunk lower, down to her bulging belly. It was so stretched and distorted it nearly dragged against the ground, and the hair was so thin she could clearly see Twilight’s stark-white skin and belly button underneath her purple fur coat. Twilight is an outie by the way. She was about to comment on this, when a low grinding sound interrupted her thoughts, sounding kinda like the Rock Biter’s rock balls rubbing against his rock cock when he shifts in his sleep. 

Everyone looked over to see Rufus, his teeth grinding together with such irate anger that flecks of calcium dust radiated from his mouth like a gamma ray burst. His eyes, oh his eyes, swollen to thrice their size with blood, likely stolen from his wee-wee which has grown ever flaccid at this sudden interruption. They stared metaphorical daggers into Twilight, and as his member softened, releasing Twilight’s gaze, her eyes turned skyward and caught his sending shivers down her spine. 

Seconds ticked by, seeming to Twilight as though they had been something longer than seconds as he bore down on her with all the fury he could manage to expel through only his ocular orbs. This was an inefficient way of transferring anger, though, and after a few moments he decided to use his words like a grown-up. 

He breathed in deep, his patience gland expelling years of pent-up goop into his lungs in an attempt to keep him from exploding, but even that was just enough to keep him on the edge. 

“What the absolute heckies do you think you’re doing?” The calm of his voice seemed but a veil, an illusion, as despite his seemingly-careless words his demeanor was intense, and his buck-ass mole rat fangs peeked from his layers of lips, already glistening with fresh venom. 

She knew she’d have to choose her words carefully if she was to avoid the ire of this apex predator, yet Twilight had no mouth, and she must converse! Instead she simply stared back, her body betraying any urge she had to run, knowing the demons would be here soon and she could not deny their wishes. 

Rufus’ face began to crumple like a tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it angrily, and he was about to release a verbal tirade that could put even a navy-seal-copypasta to shame, when Applejack spoke. 

“Those are some dope treads gurl, also since when are you pregnant?” But she said it with a western drawl which you’ll read in your head. 

Twilight was momentarily taken aback.

  I’m not pregant…  But as she looked at her bulbous belly, still jiggling back and forth from her momentum a few moments before, sloshing with the telltale squelching of vital goo, she knew she was gestating life. Then she thought back to her last moments with Noo-noo, and how he’d came so much inside her he should have won a cumpetition. Now she’d give birth out of wedlock and her parents wouldn’t love her any more…

“Answer the heck-dang question!” Rufus sneared, the dried patience goo coating his lungs coming away in flakes which he expunged from his body with each wrathful exhale. Then his eyes, thrice their normal size and absolutely filled with blood, giving him red-vision, finally picked up what he should have noticed earlier. He was about to speak when Applejack, through a miracle of modern computing, came to the same conclusion on her own. 

“She aint got no mouth,” she explained for the rest of the ponies and stray dogs in the alleyway who all nodded and spoke amongst themselves as they finally understood. 

“What,” Rufus asked, turning and directing his horribly eyes on the object of his sexual desire, who was still in a position as though expecting to be thrashed by his cock at any moment. “How can she not have a mouth? From where, then, does she poop?” 

These were the hard questions, and though Twilight had no mouth, she sincerely wished to answer his question by presenting her backside. With a three-point turn, she spun 180, revealing her percolating pony posterior, at the center of which squatted a prolapsed fart-dispenser swollen as large as a mango. 

Rufus’ breath caught in his throat as his eyeballs scanned the rough red folds of her innards turned outards, and for the second time in several paragraphs it was confirmed that Twilight is indeed an outie. Just below that hung her pony vagina, still glistening with the morning dew that was quickly drying from the asphalt’s oppressive heat. 

“Damn,” Ot’sehte muttered from the tip of Rufus’ dick, which had grown about 20% less flaccid upon seeing this. 

“Darn,” mirrored Rufus, who never says swears. 

But she wasn’t down yet, as Twilight had an idea. An awful idea. Twilight had a wonderful, awful idea. 

If I can’t speak through my mouth, I’ll let my farts talk for me instead!. She strained, her forehead wrinkling like a tissue after I’ve cummed into it with great effort, and her gaping backdoor inched open like a clam, breathing out in a husky exhale. 

“Ara ara~ I’m Twilight, sorry for interrupting but you’re all in great danger!” She farted. 

Rufus could hardly believe his ears as that pony ass just spoke to him! He gasped, then breathed deep, knowing if he couldn’t trust his ears he could at least trust his lungs. Sure enough, as he vacuumed in a whiff of her posterior breeze, the sensory organs in his lungs were able to deduce that these were indeed fart molecules. With a slow, meaningful exhale that dredged every last trace of patience from his body, Rufus gave Twilight’s rump another look, noticing for the first time in his life that he liked the color purple. 

She strained and grunted, only through intense mental fortitude and anal control being able to form her farts into coherent speech, “demons from the Everfree forest are coming to slaughter you all! You need to run away immediately!”

However, her farts fell on deaf ears, as Rufus admired her farting asshole with a kind of respect only mirrored by the few connoisseurs who could truly understand art. His eyes deflated as his cock and balls slurped every available bit of blood from his body, growing to a monstrous size and nearly strangling Ot’sehte. 

“Hey, are you even listening?” Twilight tooted, turning her head only to see that Rufus cock, previously a respectable length, had doubled- no tripled!- in size. She felt a strong compelling urge to run, feeling an impending sense of danger, but could not move her body with all the willpower she could muster. 

Applejack suddenly picked up on where this was going, and her bedroom eyes became angry eyes as she saw Twilight was trying to seduce her man. 

“Ah’ll tear out yer nappy-ass weave if’n ya don’ stop that, ho!” she screeched, inspecting her hoof nails, which she’d recently got did. 

Seeing Rufus turn fully away from her and begin towards the purple one, Applejack did the only thing she could think of, she jumped onto his leg and tried to pull. Despite her impressive retard strength gained from kicking many a tree, Rufus continued forward, his cock guiding him like a compass, and she tore divots in the pavement where her hooves attempted to stop him. 

With his blood-deprived brain, Rufus finally looked down, noticing that she was also pregnant, which checked another of his many fetishes, including amputation, cyborgs, prolapsed anuses, farting, and recently the color purple, all of which she fulfilled. 

“Damn son, bouta get all up in this RC car,” Ot’sehte bragged, putting on his little helmet as he prepared for entry. 

“Wait, don’t do this,” Twilight fart-pleaded. This only made his rock harder as he’s also into non consensual sexual aggression. 

“I’m a virgin!” She fart-lied.

 “Well, an anal virgin.” She fart-relented. 

“Not for long,” Rufus whispered, but realized she likely couldn’t hear him over the warbling striations of his ‘uge cock that could only be described as ‘penis music’. 

“Not for long,” he said a bit louder this time, “I hope you like your eggs Benedict Arnold, because I’m gonna scramble them over eaaaaasy!” 

“I don’t have any eggs, I’m pregnant,” she fart-explained. 

Applejack, seeing that her dragging wasn’t working, desperately searched for another option to avoid her new girlfriend-free boyfriend from doing it with her boyfriend-free bestfriend.

 “Think, think, think!'' She urged her brain, and with all the mental fortitude she could muster a single solitary neuron fired, its electrical impulse traveling down barren, empty streets of brain matter in the post-thoughtpocolyptic ruins that are Applejack’s mental faculties. However, by some miracle, perhaps the grace of an unknown divine being, or perhaps mediocre writing by me, the author, she got an idea (A wonderful, awful idea). 

If she couldn’t stop him, she’d simply steal him. After all, he was hers in the first place. Getting between them, she positioned herself just right, before jumping up and clamping on his gargantuan cock. Her overused flaps stretched like the grand canyon, able to easily fit the girth of his member. After Touch Down’s many epileptic fits inside her pussy, it was all but destroyed, but Rufus’ penis had an impressive girth and gave off microvibratorial pulses that even she could feel. 

This stimulation, and the need to keep him away from Twilight, was enough for her pussy to clamp up like a bear trap, encasing his dick in her powerful muscles with enough force to flatten a lesser dick as though it was 4pm. Had Rufus felt the need to crush his cock with a rock and endure maximum pain, sticking it inside her jealous pussy would have been a reasonable substitute. However, his hard-on was so powerful at this very moment, even the monolithic strength of her tree-kicking vagina walls couldn’t phase him. 

Ots'ehte spat out from the tip distastefully. “I can’t believe I wanted to come inside this wretched place.”

A sentiment that Rufus seemed to share as he simply ignored Applejack as she rode his dick, moving slowly and deliberately towards Twilight who could not move and could not look away. 

“Oh come on!” Twilight fart-yelled, frustrated that his friend’s efforts were in vain. However a new feeling welled up inside her, and it took her a moment to realize that she actually kinda wanted to be fucked by this naked pink rat.

 He is kinda hot… she fart-thought to herself through the rectum in her frontal lobe. 

After only a few more steps Rufus was standing before Twilight, his member wrapped in the protective embrace of Applejack, as though she wished to use her own body as a condom. Or, perhaps caught in her own pleasure she simply threw caution to the wind. Either way, she would not stop him. 

A growing sense of excitement grew around them and all the onlooking ponies began quietly cheering them on, unaware of the growing danger, or perhaps just more interested in the outcome of these events than self-preservation. 

Knowing she couldn’t stop him, and perhaps not even wanting to, Twilight farted out one final request as Rufus lined himself with her one-eyed purple peepee eater, “Please be gentle.”

But Rufus didn’t know the meaning of ‘gentle’, and he rammed his dick into her like a runaway semi into a molehill. There was a wretched tearing sound as an unstoppable force tried to force an immense object into a small space, and the small space was forced to concede. Twilight lurched forward, eyes wide while her brakes screeched full force to stop her forward momentum. She could feel with intimate detail as Applejack’s upper body, cradling his cock like a glove, contorted inside her with an ungodly squelching. 

A mixture of blood and cum jettisoned from her backside, the blood a mixture of her own and that of Applejack, who’d been partially crushed, her grizzly innards now recycled as lubricant for the horrific sex machine that is Rufus, and the cum from Applejack’s orgasm, perfectly-timed with his thrust into her vagina which would crush her into Applejacksauce. 

“AHHHHH!” Twilight fart-screamed, her hot, humid ass blast gas condensing on Rufus’ thick pubic bush like morning dew in the rainforest and mixing into the blood and cum creating a sort of primordial sludge, inside which micro organisms thrived. 

With a herculean effort, Rufus pulled his cock from her vagina like excalibur, its end dripping in an unholy display, before thrusting it back in with just as much force. This time it went in even further, masticating the remains and opening Twilight even more. 

For her part, she was forced to put all her effort into reversing, and she spun out like a hydroplaning RC car as she attempted to counteract the pushing force from behind. He pulled out and then thrust again, then again, all this happening in mere seconds, but to Twilight they felt like minutes. 

“Aw yeah, daddy!” Twilight fart-gasped, making Rufus somehow even hornier as he’s also into incest causing him to speed up to an impressive twenty-four thrusts per second. To the naked eye, it would seem like he wasn’t even moving, yet the spray of fluid would suggest otherwise. 

By now, Applejack was more like an Apple Snack Pack, and her greasy remains jettisoned like flack, hitting the ponies in the back with a red smack attack. So masticated and liquified was she by this thrusting that Rufus’ dick finally came free from its meaty confines and it was able to enjoy Twilight in earnest for the first time. This sudden, liberating freedom sent shivers up Rufus' spine, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he sent his scalding load straight into her ovaries. 

His balls let out a high-pitched squeal like a kettle on the stove, and his cock was vibrating at frequencies that traveled down through Twilight into the ground and broke glass in the surrounding houses. Twilight had all she could withstand and came, not able to match Rufus’ constitution, and her cum further defiled her friend’s corpse. 

Rufus knew he’d reached his end, the pressure inside his penis had grown such that it would pop if not for the layers of rubber-like flesh, he stopped thrusting as he sunk his dick in up to the base and leaned back lifting Twilight off the ground and towards the sky. For a moment, she stared up at the clouds, admired the flitting birds, and the freedom of the great blue, before a pressure built inside her as well. 

Rufus let out a mighty roar, his every muscle clenching in time with his testicles which crumpled like a tissue after I squeezed all the cum from it, expunging their putrid, 200-degree load of caustic semen through his urethra. The goop exploded forth with all the power and majesty of a volcanic eruption, filling every inch of Twilight’s uterus in an instant and, with nowhere else to go, it created a cum vacuum which could do nothing but expand. 

There was a loud pop as Twilight, aided by Applejack, launched from his dick at high speeds, a trail of foamy semen expanding behind her like the ploom of smoke from a rocket. Within moments she was gone from view, carried upward with force into the great unknown. 

Rufus let out a sigh, and sat down to bask in the afterglow. “Looks like we finally did it, buddy,” he said to Ots'ehte, before realizing that he, too, was gone. “Oh… yeah…” 

For the first time in a long time, Rufus felt truly alone. He looked at his hands, wondering if this post-nut depression was truly what he’d wanted.
> Rufus The Cuntboy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tinky Winky marched forward with confidence, his entourage of terryclothed friends in tow. His Noo-Noo had gotten quite a head start, thanks to Po being late to awaken as usual, but it didn't really matter because he knew her trajectory.

Their marching led them, sure enough, to the outskirts of Everfree, and beyond that,  the outer edge of Ponyville.

Tinky Winky surveyed the area, taking in the partially-devastated scenery. To his left, in the distance, he saw what appeared to be a massive crater, surrounded by singed animals, many of which were pegasi that had been dumped from the ruins of Cloudsdale that loomed above. To his right, he spotted a collapsed cottage. Straight ahead, on the horizon, he spotted what appeared to be a town.

Tubby custard. He thought to himself, as if thinking "holy shit, I think someone beat us here."

For the first time in perhaps eons, Tinky Winky felt a twinge of worry. Had some other creature of unfathomable horror beaten them here and genocided the ponies he'd promised his pals? That couldn't be! He'd promised them new Noo-Noos. If something had taken that gift before he could even give it, he'd be sure to make them pay.

His worry replaced with anger, Tinky Winky marched towards the town on the horizon, his best buddies/most cherished pals following behind.

Their brisk pace made the trip a short one, and as they entered the first row of houses and businesses, Tinky Winky was delighted to find an absolute smorgasbord of Noo-Noo applicants cleverly disguised as ponies. Their disguises were made even more convincing by the utter lack of Teletubby shit in their mouths.

Due to their size and number, the ponies mulling about this meager plaza quickly took note of these new arrivals. Ordinarily, they'd have fled from a pack of unfamiliar giants, given their timid nature and the frequent near-destruction of the entire town. This time, however, they flocked to the fuzzy vagrants, in part due to their friendly appearance, but mostly just so they didn't look racist.

"Well hey there, fellers," greeted a grey pony with a grey mane and tail, with a cutie mark that was a dark grey block, "I'm Gary Gourdleaver: the least interesting-looking pony in Ponyville!"

The Teletubbies said and did nothing, opting to let things play out for a spell. Whether this was on a whim or because they were delighted by this loveable new character only time will tell.

"Wanna take a guess as to why folks call me that?" Gary inquired. "I'll give you a little hint."

Gary then pulled a gourd from seemingly out of nowhere before placing it on the ground nonchalantly.

"Stop harassing these enormous whatever-they-ares, Gary," cried a blue pony with a blue mane and tail, and a blue block for a cutie mark, "the name's Sally Citrusstealer, sorry about my husband, he can be a real gourdleaver if you catch my drift.


Tinky Winky did not catch her drift, what he did catch was her head in his hands. Like in that scene from Invincible where Omni-Man crushes that black guy's head, he squeezed, crushing Sally's head in an instant. Her brains oozed out of his fist like jelly, plopping on the ground beside her corpse.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH YOU MURDERED MY LOVING WIFE OF SIXTEEN YEARS!" Screamed Gary, his eyes going red with rage.

In an instant he produced a variety of gourds, pulling them from thin air. He threw the gourds at Tinky Winky as hard as he could, spiraling them into his tummy screen at the rate of a gatling gun.

Tinky Winky walked through the maelstrom of gourds like Cooler in his fourth form flying through Goku's Kaioken Kamehameha technique, completely unfazed. In moments he was right in front of Gary Gourdleaver, and with a mighty thrust of his palm, Tinky Winky sent him hurtling into a nearby wall.

He splattered against it with a wet thud, pasting across the abode instantly and painting it red and grey.


The other ponies in the surrounding area took note of this, and their reactions varied pony-to-pony. Some ran away, some stared slack-jawed, and an unfortunate few tried to muster some meager retaliation.

"YOU JUST MURDERED MY FUCKING LOVING BROTHER-IN-LAW OF SIXTEEN YEARS!" Screamed a dark red pony with a dark red mane and tail, and a dark red block for a cutie mark.

"Are all of you in on this killing spree?" The pony demanded, addressing the non-Tinky-Winky Teletubbies, "I won't allow that to happen, not me, Murphy Murderstopper."

"I've got your back, Murphy," stated Barry Backhaver, sworn ally of the Gourdleaver-Citrusstealer family.

"Us too," stated a nameless pair of identical ponies with enormous chins.

Together the four of them charged the Teletubbies, kicking the shit out of them with their powerful horse legs. Of course, these attacks weren't even on the level of a Crystal-brain Earth Pony soldier. As a result they bounded harmlessly off the tough hide of Dipsy and Laa-Laa respectively.

Despite the ineffectiveness of the assault, Dipsy and Laa-Laa took advantage of Stand Your Ground Laws. They each drew a big, cool gun from their assholesters and started blasting as per their second amendment rights(despite the fact that they are British).

The four-pony resistance was immediately hit with a bunch of bullets, and then the bullets did that thing bullets do when they come into contact with animal flesh. I forget.

With their attackers disposed of, the Teletubby gang frolicked ever further into Ponyville, searching for more ponies to play with.





Rufus kicked his feet and twiddled what I can only assume are thumbs, wondering if this is just what he gets for having sex out of wedlock like a degenerate. Of course, he needn't wonder, God will answer that question when he finally sends Rufus to the depths of hell where he belongs.

"No Applejack, no vagina," he sobbed, "no Ots'ehte, no magic energon powers."

He pulled the transvaginator out of one of his skinflaps and glowered at it forlornly, before picking up what remained of Applejack's vagina and placing it on his taint. He pressed the transvaginator up against his gooch/Applejack's pussy and pressed the "vaginate" button.

The device gave off a puff of noxious steam that spewed straight up and killed an overhead flock of birds, their carcasses splattering around Rufus in a perfect circle. Then, after some jostling, it emitted a deep, angry beep. Given his lack of futanari status, it was clear Applejack's crevice was too obliterated to work.

"Should've figured," he muttered, "I guess I'd better go see if Ots'ehte drowned in my ejaculate."

Before he scuttled off in the direction he'd launched whatever it was he'd been fucking, he crammed Applejack's vagina into one of his skin flaps as a keepsake. No way could he lose his first condom from his first time.

Once he'd stuffed the pussy into his flaps, he noted an uncomfortable feeling in his innards. His stomach gurgled, and another sound, akin to the sound of pouring water, rumbled forth from his gut. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his belly, and a pressure at his sphincter.

All at once his pert asshole expanded and contracted as a hoofball-sized shit almost identical to the one at the beginning of this story rocketed out of his anus with the speed of a cannonball. Rufus groaned and laid in the street momentarily before collecting himself and regaining his posture.

"I think that spaghetti disagreed with my tum-tum," remarked Rufus, "Applejack was wrong about that Italian place.Ah well, off I go."

Rufus had to walk for miles, a herculean task given his post-coital exhaustion. He felt both pride and annoyance that his ejaculation possessed such potency and pressure. Along with these feelings came a feeling of sadness at the thought that his new centipede friend might not have survived.

Out of concern for his friend(and hunger for power) Rufus pressed on, ignoring his fatigue. The bags under his eyes were so large they dragged on the ground, stretching until they caught under his sagging balls which also scraped along the floor. His trajectory was easy, just follow the arc he saw that thing he fucked take. This was made easier still by the line of cum that had dripped from her pussy onto the ground.

He followed the stream of jizz for half an hour before he finally caught a glimpse of his target. There she was, in all her purple glory. Rufus liked purple.

She was also completely unconscious, having been launched across an entire town. 

Rufus scurried to the downed Noo-Noo, and made his way to its gaped, cum-soaked vagina. 

"Ots'ehte, buddy, are you alright?" Called Rufus to what he hoped was a live ancient Vagyptian centipede.

"Ughjgghh," came a gurgle from inside.

Rufus plunged his entire arm deep into Twilight's private zone, feeling around in his caustic jizz until he felt his friend's little carapace. In a swift motion he pulled his pal out of the former-pony's pussy.

"Glad my cum didn't dissolve you," said Rufus earnestly.

"Please, my carapace is resistant to all acids."

"My cum is actually basic, not acidic."

"Even so…" Replied Ots'ehte before trailing off.

They shared an awkward silence.

"Well, here we are," the centipede continued, "this thing will surely be unconscious long enough, get out the transvaginator."

Rufus obliged with gusto, retrieving the device from his many folds.

"Before we go any further, maybe you could get rid of all this cum?"

Rufus rolled his eyes and stuck Ots'ehte into his mouth, along with the rest of his arm. With one swift suck he removed all the cum from both his arm and his friend, in a manner similar to when Tom from the Japanese anime Tom & Jerry eats every part of a fish but the bones.

After that he got on his hands and knees and slurped up all of his own cum out of Twilight's vagina, as well as a few pieces of Applejack. The texture was akin to beef stew. The flavor was not describable.

Once he'd finished recycling his nutrients just like his hero Chris-Chan, Rufus placed the transvaginator on Twilight's vagina and pressed the "devaginate" button for the second time in his life.

This time, once the noxious steam had taken its sacrifice from the bird population once again, the device emitted a pleasant ding, and a myriad of incredibly tiny mechanical saws sprung forth. Their delicate incisions were made with surgical precision, and in moments they had outlined Twilight's pussy in red. Once these initial incisions had been made, a series of thin metal arms delicately wormed into the cuts. They sliced deeper and deeper into the rivets of the purple Noo-Noo's flesh, the flexible blades curving around the misshapen pelvic bones.

After several minutes of surgical ministrations, the machine whirred as it retracted its surgical tools. The front of the machine opened, revealing a big suction cup, which, true to its name, cupped Twilight's vagina along the pre-made incisions, before sucking the entire thing out in one motion, ovaries and uterus included. In Rufus's opinion it looked like a bloody onahole[pocket pussy] with sackless balls and a wet balloon hanging from the end.

"Wow." He remarked.

"Yeah that's pretty gross, and as a five-or-ten thousand year old or whatever I've seen a lot of gross shit. Regardless, you should really be attaching it to your taint right now."

Rufus blushed, embarrassed that he'd forgotten, before applying the severed vagina to his taint with the machine.

He pressed the "vaginate" button, and immediately the machine sprung back to life.

"Well this is it, in mere minutes you'll be a being of unfathomable power," gushed Ots'ehte.

"Plus I'll be a dickgirl. That's really fuckin hot."

"Actually you'll be more of a cuntboy."

Rufus's eyes bulged out of his head, and the poor mole rat was forced to shove them back in. Once he'd done that, he grasped the transvaginator on his taint, trying to pull it off. But the process was simply too far along.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
> The Teletubbies Come To Town :3  Friendship Ahoooy!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Touch Down’s big eyes absorbed the scene before him, and his small brain had a lot of trouble discerning what was happening. For some reason his girlfriend, Applejack, who had talked loud at him recently, was with some pink thing. 

He stared and he stared, but couldn’t quite tell what was going on. Then suddenly another pony entered, and everything became so much more confusing. Touch Down scratched his head as his mind worked tirelessly to discern the details in full. It was purple, and it was a she! He can tell a she-pony because they always make his wee wee a little chubby when he looks at their tail-hole. 

She had black spinnies instead of horse-hands, and she began rootin’ and tootin’ from her tail-hole. Touch Down, from his position across the street, clopped his forelegs together and laughed heartily. 

“Fart funny,” he articulated, prompting some eager nods from a few Earth ponies nearby who quickly agreed with him and farted themselves, as though to affirm their point. He, too, farted. 

After this, he looked back at Applejack from across the street and his jaw dropped open. She had climbed onto that pink thing’s dick. Worse too, its dick was huge! Touch Down always felt a bit inferior upon seeing big dicks, even though his is quite impressive for a pony. Despite his shame, in a rare burst of activity, his brain managed to feel another emotion at the same time. ANGER. Touch Down was MAD. This strange pink thing was penis poking Applejack! 

He was about to go over there and do something about it, when suddenly the pink thing thrust Applejack into the purple horse with a horrible squelching sound. All he could do was stare as his precious Applejack was reduced to red sludge (most likely tasty red sludge, he thought). 

After a few moments, the pink thing had fucked the purple one into the sky and turned away, to stare at its hands. Now he was going to go across the street and do something! 

Again, he was interrupted, as the pink creature clutched its little tummy in the hands at which it had previously been staring. Then it did that whole pooping thing I mentioned earlier, sending a colossal shit rocketing over Touch's head and likely destroying something or someone in the distance.

His mouth fell open even wider as he had a flashback. He remembered his last hoofegg game, and how he’d lost because of a turd just like that one! And also he remembered his house, and his new puppy had been smushed flat beneath the steaming hoofegg-like shit. By the time he finished his flashback, the pink monster was gone. The entire process of recollection had taken his meager mind thirty whole minutes. But he was still angry!

Raising his head towards the heavens, he let out a cacophonous rawrXD from both ends before storming off through a nearby building, intent on stepping on this pink thing until he felt better. 






Tinky Winky (or Stinky Wonky if you're my FUCKING autocorrect) and company were having the times of their lives running around and stomping the shit out of everything and everyone in sight on their search for Noo-Noo-worthy Hasbro Brand My Little Ponies. If you've never heard of those before allow me to give you a quick rundown.

Originating as "My Pretty Pony" in Nineteen Eighty-One, My Little Pony is a popular toy line and multimedia franchise propagated by Hasbro, inc. 

The original run of My Little Pony was a series of toys and multiple animated series running from Nineteen Eighty-Two to Nineteen Ninety-Two. Ten whole years, gosh! 

Five years later, Hasbro rebooted the toy line, and even crafted a virtual pet game. This iteration however was poorly received, and was discontinued in the US after two years.

The franchise was again revived in Two Thousand and Three, this time lasting six years, spawning multiple toy lines and animated movies.

In Two Thousand and Ten, the titular toy series was again rebooted, this time under the moniker Friendship is Magic. This generation caused a spike in popularity for the franchise, sparking a massive fanbase of Uhhh...people like you. It also happens to be the generation in which this story takes place. But I digress.

Tinky Winky was having a ball in Sugarcube Corner, having found a delightful assortment of sweet treats all sitting at tables eating cupcakes. He wished for a moment that his friends hadn't wandered off, but wishes aren't real.

"Uh wow, never seen customers like you before," marveled Mr.Cake as he gawked at these new guests, "well I'm certainly no racist. I changed my Horsebook profile picture to a striped square when that unhoofed zebra was gunned down in Whinnyapolis. What will your order be?"

Tinky Winky liked this pony's subservient attitude, but was doubtful that its body would be up to the task of any of his orders. Still, it would be poor sport not to give him the chance.

"Tubby Custard." He bellowed plainly, turning around and spreading his asscheeks, as if to say, "Garçon, one shit-eating, and make it snappy!"

Mr.Cake blushed, immediately understanding.

"G-gosh," he stuttered, "right in front of all these ponies as they're all eating?"

But deep in his heart he knew the customer was always right.

He craned his neck forward, cramming his head between the twin cheeks like he was diving into a pond. His lips puckered dutifully, cupping around Tinky's prolapsing anus, prompting the Teletubby to get to work.

Tinky Winky unleashed the stored up shit from his last hefty meal, unloading a mudslide of mustard-yellow goop. The eager maw of Mr.Cake accepted the payload with zeal, his tongue forming a crude trough that channeled the fecal clay down his throat.

The patrons of the restaurant-bakery all clapped and cheered, delighted at the prospect of having both a snack and a show. Even further spurred on by the enormous peer pressure, Mr. Cake increased his speed, guzzling goopy poopy at a rate that might give even a renowned shit-eater like Twilight Sparkle a run for her money.

 For a moment, Tinky Winky thought this was just one of those skinny people who can eat a shitload of food. He thought he might have his new Noo-Noo to gift to Po.

Then he turned his head around one hundred and eighty degrees, and got a good look at Mr.Cake. Despite his efforts, Tinky Winky was sure the previous doubt that festered in his Teletubby brain would soon be proven true. Unlike his purple Noo-Noo, this poor, courageous applicant was clearly not capable of handling the masses of excrement he could expel. His little pony belly had expanded to multiple times its size, now causing his limbs to bulge to their sides as it lifted his body off the floor.

As his stomach burst from the weight of the shit, it released a huge mass of feces, as well as a dollop of stomach acid, into the body cavity of Mr.Cake and all over the rest of his organs. If he didn't get medical attention he was probably gonna get an infection, oh no! Despite the excruciating pain, the Cake patriarch continued, determined to satisfy his already-disappointed customer.

Tinky Winky admired the beast's stalwart nature in the face of futility, deciding to let it go out with a bang.

"Mis-ter Cake! Mis-ter Cake!" Chanted the other customers as they egged on the dying shit-eater.

Tinky Winky grunted, and unleashed a cute toot from his patooty, which proved to be the straw that broke the camel's back, or in this case, the fart that broke the pony's body cavity. I think that is a much better idiom that would have mass appeal.

With a thunderous 'boom' Mister Cake's body burst, much like his stomach had inside his own body not too long ago. The explosion coated everything within the blast radius(including but not limited to all the ponies, their food, and Tinky Winky) in skin, fur, assorted chunks of meat, and of course, tons of fucking shit.

Tinky Winky was a little annoyed, since if he wanted to be covered in shit he would just either shit on himself or have one of his friends do it. Still, for the effort it put forth, he felt the creature deserved the honorable death it had been given.

"Oh my stars!" Exclaimed a fat blue pony with a Yooper accent. Mrs.Cake surveyed the area before huffing indignantly, "This is just what he gets for bitin' off more than he can chew don'tcha know."

With that statement she swiftly scoured the entire area with her expert shit-eater, cleaning every inch of the bakery in moments. Once that was done, she walked right up to Tinky Winky without judging him at all for being purple or killing her fucking loving husband of sixteen years.

"Are you the unsatisfied customer, deary?" 

Tinky Winky nodded, spreading his asshole again.

Like an expert pianist plays the keys, Mrs.Cake ate Tinky Winky's shit with the kind of skill that can only come from obsessive practice. Thanks to her heartier constitution, she was able to digest the vibrant blonde sludge at the rate she was swallowing it, building it up as dense double-shit in her own intestines. In minutes, she had sucked his asshole dry and licked it clean. Once she pulled her lips away from his purple pooper with a 'pop,' she opened her mouth to show everyone it was all gone, the only traces of her feast being the Dirty-Sanchez-like shit mustache on her upper lip. The crowd erupted in response, sending molten lava all over the place.

Tinky Winky was speechless. His only method of response was an incredibly simple one. He picked up the recently-widowed Mrs.Cake and shoved her into his red bag, which is bigger on the inside like a TARDIS(epic Whovian reference) so he could bring her home and Noo-Nooize her later. Of course, without their parents and with Pinkie lying crippled in the street, Pound and Pumpkin upstairs were surely doomed to starve.

Meanwhile…

Not too far away in an alley, Laa-laa and Po were getting into their own sort of fun. They’d trapped several ponies in a corner, forcing them to watch as they crushed their fellow townspeople and friends beneath their sweaty GIRL feet. 

With rhythmic motions that sent a banging through the asphalt like the beat of a drum, the two of them giggled as they raised and lowered their potato-like stompers, guts and goo slipping between their toes with each step, lubricating them and leaving a film that would be eaten later by whatever Noo-noo Tinky Winky whipped up. 
In actuality, they were just connoisseurs of the fine arts and were hoping to create a delicate Tubby Custard wine using these lousy creatures. Each stomp extracted more vital goo from its fleshy confines, staining the concrete and nearby ponies red. The two of them had produced such liquids many times before, but they were quite curious what terroir this small town would provide. Meanwhile, their tummy screens showed a birds-eye view of what was happening, giving the ponies the rare opportunity to witness their demise from multiple angles.

One of the ponies in the corner was a very important business horse all the way from Horsehattan who had come to inspect the poorly-maintained bank in this backwater town, only for these things to come out of nowhere and begin throwing a damper on his entire day! His name was Clark Bankhorse and he was the most boring combination of gray and brown you can imagine. Regardless, he was anything but boring! When he wasn’t auditing bank transfers for 18 hours a day, he was traveling to other banks across the country to do the same. His cutie mark is of a horse shoe, which is probably a metaphor for banking, but I’m not sure. 

Yet here he was, trapped in a corner, unable to count things! His job, and by extension he, was very important! He was about to throw this injustice in his attackers’ faces, when another of the ponies nearby beat him to it. 

“NOOOOOO! LET ME GOOOOO! ARAAAAAGH!” He raged, banging against the alley wall with his forelegs in a feeble attempt at escaping his ultimate doom. This pony was piss-yellow and tan with a rare birth defect shaped like a goldfish on his neck(which couldn’t be seen under his fur). He went by the name GoldSmasha31337xX_, but his real name was Wall Dinhorse and his cutie mark was a detailed picture taken from bird’s eye of himself and several others trapped in a corner where a vague yellow and red thing loomed just out of focus. This cutie mark was a metaphor for mining which is his profession and talent, hence the name, but seeing the video playing out on the Teletubbies’ tummy screens drove a terror into him unlike any he’d ever received.

Laa-laa and Po gave each other a knowing look and giggled even harder. “Ha-ha! Yaaaay!” Laa-laa responded, her voice sweeter than cherry pie in July. 

“Tubby custard!” replied Po, clapping her mighty mitts and creating a thunderous ‘boom’, her voice not too sour and not too sweet, like Angry Orchard’s Hard Cider™. 

A third pony who hadn’t made a word yet was Rice Witherspork, who sat motionless and breathless, eyes closed as though attempting to not be seen. She was white like rice, and also brown like rice, and had a cutie mark of a Spork (and probably rice, but it’s hard to tell considering her rice-colored fur). This calmness she displayed, however, was merely a facade, as she was just charging up. Suddenly springing to life, she dislodged her jaw and released all the oxygen she’d saved up for several minutes in a horrible, blood-curdling scream.

Once it was done, she took a few deep breaths and twisted her arm around to give herself a pat on the back. Screaming was her special talent, after all, which you should have been able to tell when I described her cutie mark.

The two ponies next to her immediately ceased up, their blood having curdled inside their veins, preventing movement. Wide-eyed, they could only watch as Laa-laa and Po affixed Rice Witherspork with a look that promised infinite pain. Below their feet, all their hard work was wasted as suddenly the Tubby Custard they were stomping curdled, creating a consistency of mashed taters and a smell like my scrotum after I stretched it over my anus for a full day to catch and reabsorb the farts back into my skin. 

Po took one step forward, about to unleash not just a smackdown, but also a smackleft, smackright, smackup, and smackback(to reality). This, however, put her directly into the trajectory of a particular brown projectile which collided with her skull at such speed that her head bounced side-to-side like a spring doorstop. After a few seconds it came to a halt, and she reached up and carefully realigned her spine, only to notice shit all over her hands. It was all over the side of her head and face too, and in her eyes and ears. There were even a few poop bubbles floating around from where it had squeezed through her bubble-blower head diddly. 

She looked back at Laa-laa, who responded with a half-hearted “Yaaaay!” and a cartwheel, making it quite apparent that she wasn’t the culprit. Looking around further, there was no one in the area but the brutalized remains of ponies. Then who dun it?!

Thankfully, Po had a built-in tool for divining this. Usually she just used it to find the identities of people who presented microaggressions online so she could doxx and or murder them, but this time was different as the aggression wasn’t micro at all. Focusing the vortex of rage that welled within, her tummy screen changed now to show a pink, naked rat man who was sucking cum off of a centipede. 

Po and Laa-laa shared another look, instantly conveying their thoughts as they were the best of friends. They clasped hands, skipping angrily in the direction of the rat bastard. Mercifully, the alley ponies were spared their fate… For now… (This is foreskinshadowing, write this down!)
> Dipsy's Day on the Town
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dipsy felt stunning. He traipsed around town on his tippy toes, his colossal bulk still sending tremors through the nearby buildings, though he wasn’t trying to sneak. More he was attempting to be light on his feet like a ballerina, dancing through the market without a care in the world. 

The same could not be said for the ponies in that market who immediately stopped their business as he came into view. His looks would have been quite distracting-- If the ponies were racist, that is, which they can assure you THEY ARE NOT-- but he had several ponies impaled on his arms and legs in an absolutely horrid and garish display that would fit right in on the catwalk. 

“H-help me…” One of the impaled ponies moaned, allowing onlookers to finally realize that they were still alive, stabbed through with precision in such a way that their organs were merely displaced and Dipsy’s limbs sealed the wounds allowing little blood to escape. They twitched, moaned, and begged, unable to do anything else due to the pain as Dipsy hopped around the square, eager for all to see. 

As they gawked at him, so too did he admire them, and before long he’d spotted a pony in the crowd whose colors he admired. He moved towards them, the other ponies clearing space and allowing him to approach unheeded. 

Below, Fleur Whorsedevoire, a renowned Canterlope model and celebrity stared up at this great green monstrosity. She was only in this backwater shithole because her boyfriend, the captain of the Royal Guard, was down here for work. That, and she enjoyed spitting on all the pathetic Earth ponies. They didn’t even stop her as she’s one of the most beautiful ponies alive, and she’s also rather tall and elegant, having spent her career undergoing numerous leg and neck lengthening surgeries in which they drilled ever-longer tungsten rods into her bones. It was difficult to turn her head or bend her legs, but the results speak for themselves. 

Normally she’d be disgusted by this hulking beast, especially given the smell, but right now he looked absolutely dazzling. She had an eye for fashion, and clearly so too did this thing. Her lip upturned very slightly, the closest thing to a smile she could manage after having her lips filled to twelve-times their natural size with silicon, and she considered hiring it as a fashion consultant. Surely if anyhorse could pull off his style in the big times it would be her. 

She opened her mouth, and every pony in the plaza flinched, fresh memories of getting spat on still ingrained in their fragile pony psyche. Instead, though, she spoke, “what a marvelous outfit! I’m intrigued, and would love to try it myself if you’d be willing to share your secrets!” 

Dipsy nodded, giving a big, goofy smile as he’d found a pony that could truly enjoy his artistic soul instead of just screaming and running. 

“Marvelous, I’ll hire you immediately!” she began, only for Dipsy to reach down and grab her with his big, good, strong hands. “I know I’m beautiful but touching is strictly off limits!” 

Her shouting clearly fell on deaf ears (probably due to his still-living pony earmuffs) as he effortlessly lifted her up, exposing her gaping horse-hole to all the onlookers who began furiously masturbating(even the girls… especially the girls). 

“I’ll have my boyfriend who’s the captain of the royal guard beat you up if you don’t unhand me immediately!” She cried indignantly, launching spittle in all directions with every hard consonant.

It was too late for her though, and no one was moving to help, all simply wanking it, some even using her spit as lube. Dipsy lifted her up over his head, his eyes appraising her every detail with a criticality that felt to Fleur as though he was looking straight through her skin. He turned her body a few times, making minor adjustments, before lifting her up over his head, ass-down. 

Fleur finally realized what was happening, a little too late, and began screaming and thrashing. Despite her best efforts, she could not budge his grip, nor divert her course as he slowly lowered her onto his dipstick. She hardly felt as it first penetrated her asshole having taken her boyfriend’s absolute monster dong in the back so many times, but this wouldn’t last long. 

He kept lowering her and she gasped once the dipstick extended around the corner of her large intestine, except it didn’t, instead forcing her shit-tract to straighten out and pulling all her organs around with it. The pain was horrific, and she could only open and close her mouth like a fish, eyes pointed towards the baby head sun in the sky which smiled and laughed at her plight while his dipstick probed ever deeper inside. Then it got even worse as she reached his head. It seemed he had no intention of wearing her like a hat, and instead continued to stretch her up and over his dome like an undersized T-shirt. 

Her skin and innards stretched, all seemingly to the breaking point, but never quite enough to tear or snap. Time seemed to stretch on for Fleur, but in actuality it was done in moments, performed with the same casual nature as though Dipsy was donning his favorite necklace. As his head emerged from her mouth, every pony in the entire plaza simultaneously climaxed, spraying their semen like confetti in celebration of Dipsy’s fashion achievement. 

Fleur’s entire digestive tract was now a straight line, bunched and folded a thousand times to perfectly line Dipsy’s neck with her asshole at his collar and her mouth around the base of his chin. Her other organs had been squeezed proportionally around her sides, leaving her as basically a meat tube with arms and legs. With one final move, Dipsy snapped off her ultra long and perfectly pedicured horn and shoved it up his ass, using it to scratch an itch just out of reach of his large fingers. 

Once done, he did a twirl, flaunting his new scarf for all to see. Wide-eyed, Fleur stared back at the onlookers as they gawked in post-masturbation horror, many making eye contact with her. One could wonder if, as a model and fashionista, she might actually enjoy her new position, the center of attention as a beautiful accessory to be admired by the masses, but no one could ask her such a thing now. 

Dipsy continued to twirl and dance, all eyes on him, until someone new entered the plaza wearing gaudy silver and gold plate armor that reflected the sun directly into Dispy’s eyes. The platemail clashed with his brown fur and green hair, but his mighty jawline made it clear any who pointed this out would be faced with a generous beating, either verbal or physical.

“Hey Fleur, I got you a 0% sugar, 0% GMO’s, 0% fat candied apple from that stand,” he called out, his voice absolutely wonderful. The crowd parted for him, and he looked around for his supermodel girlfriend (who stood out from any crowd). “Where’d you go babe?”

It was only after a few moments that he caught sight of Dipsy, the absolute green unit somehow escaping his gaze until now, and he immediately made eye contact with his girlfriend, now contorted into a lovely piece of neckwear. His eyes swept up slightly to catch those of Dipsy, who was scowling at his lame, unfashionable armor. 

“The fuck did you do to my girlfriend, you freak?!” he yelled, his words cutting into Dipsy like a hot knife, though not literally, “I got her a candy apple and now she can’t even eat it because of you!” 

Dipsy had been nice up to now, but this mean pony really got his diddly in a twist calling him a ‘freak’. He frowned, about to dispense justice, when the pony spoke up again. 

“Don’t you know who I am?! I’m Chaz Nunchucks, the captain of the entire royal Canterlope guard!” 

Dipsy put a finger innocently to his bottom lip and muttered “Tubby Custard?” as though asking, “Chuck who?”

“Nunya Chuckin’ business, that’s who!” He shouted back in agitation before pulling a conch from his secret tail compartment. 

“Royal Guard ASSEMBLE!!!” Kissing the conch on the tip and filling its hole with a sensual blow, he blared a deep call which reverberated around town. 

Within seconds the plaza shook as though from an approaching stampede and the air growled under the beating of countless mighty horse wings. 

In a flash the plaza was assaulted by a deluge of pony soldiers. Hundreds of thousands of hooves smacked against the cobble street, sounding like a swarm of jackhammers. At the same time, the sky became blotted in gray as millions of furiously waving feathers formed a towering spire above Dipsy and the townsfolk.

Swiftly and efficiently, the earth ponies scooped up the civilians in the area that weren't being used as Teletubby clothing and scooted them to the outer rim of the plaza, where they could easily run away to safety if such a thing still existed. Instead the evacuated ponies stuck around and opted to record the whole thing on their phones. Unlike Ots'ehte, these ponies are millennials, and are therefore slaves to social media. 

"Like, what the heck is that thing?" Asked one of the Pegasi Soldiers, specifically Flight Lieutenant Milky Weight. She was a plumper pegasus than most, in part due to her enormous sagging crotchtits filled with milk that sloshed and roiled with each flap of her wings. The weight of her tits and gut handicapped her immensely, and she was only able to fly maybe twenty feet off the ground or so. Her special talent is probably being almost too heavy to fly, since her cutie mark is a weight.

"Not quite sure," screamed Brigadier Bible Bastard, a red and dark red pony, with an even darker red mane and tail. The reflective tape cross he'd plastered on his ass in place of a cutie mark glimmered as small beams of sunlight from the baby head above broke through the mass of wings and struck it at random intervals. "But I have a mighty urge to hand that boy a bible!"

The reason he had to scream is because he is quite a bit higher up in the air than Milky Weight. So much so that it would be ridiculous for Bible Bastard to even have heard her, if it weren't for his absurdly enormous ears.

"Classic Bible Bastard," chuckled Milky Weight, each vibration causing droplets of mommy milk to fall from the sky and directly into Dipsy's mouth (he had been doing the soy face at the time so his mouth was wide open).

Dipsy took a moment to analyze the flavor profile of the mommy milk, finding that it had a remarkably similar flavor to his favorite meal in the whole wide world!

"Tubby custard!" He exclaimed. His tummy screen flashed a myriad of bright colors, seemingly echoing his excitement.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Cried a pony from somewhere in the crowd, probably even one with a name and even a few character traits. 

I guess we'll never know, because Dipsy, hearing this question, pulled some teeth out of the gaping mouth of his Fleur turtleneck and flicked them at the offending pony. They traveled at a speed so great that tiny mach cones formed around each of the bone projectiles. These twirling cones turned into blood spirals as they speared through the cranium of the creature before tumbling off in random directions. The pony was dead before it hit the floor.

With that taken care of, Dipsy returned his attention to the tubby wubby pony waifu that lurked a mere ten feet above his head. That kind of distance was child's play.

Dipsy squatted down, and the ponies all gawked excitedly, murmuring to themselves about whether or not he was about to take a shit.

Their question was soon answered, as Dipsy pushed himself off the ground, effortlessly jumping up to Milky's level and snatching her out of the air.

Once his feet were planted firmly on the ground, Dipsy took a big milky pony tit in each hand, and lifted Milky above his head. With minimal force Dipsy squeezed, spraying a firehose-strength stream of mommy milk right down his throat in a manner similar to how Hercules drank that drink in Disney's Hercules. 

"Oooohhh," moaned Milky as she experienced a feeling no living human can accurately empathize with. Not even you, with those bulbous, heaving breasts loaded to the brim with curdled milk.

A sound resembling a power washer echoed over the crowded plaza as the breast milk cannon continued. The force was such that if you or I were to try this stunt at home (WARNING: DO NOT) the milk would drill a hole through our heads. For Dipsy though it was barely enough to dislodge one or two tonsil stones clinging to the back of his mouth.

As Dipsy squeezed and the liquid flowed, Milky's breasts deflated, shrinking down until they resembled wet balloons that somebody had scrunched up in their hands. They might possibly have even looked like some other wet, scrunched up object but any other similes are escaping me right now. Like a tissue that I've thrown away after cumming in it and scrunching it up.

Soon the supply of sweet nectar was depleted. So Dipsy crushed Milky Weight against the side of his head like a beer can before shooting her basketball-style into a nearby rubbish bin. The ponies all clapped, and a scoreboard on a house nearby lit up displaying a score of 2-0.

The crowd of pony soldiers unleashed a maelstrom of thunderous applause so loud and forceful that it would put an LRAD to shame. If you don't know what that is, then at the very least you should be able to pick up through context clues that it's fucking loud.


"As impressive and sexy as that was," admitted Captain Chaz Nunchucks of royal guard fame, "we're still totally gonna have to kill you for that whole wearing my gf like a turtleneck thing."

Dipsy cringed at the sound of someone saying "gf" instead of "girlfriend" in real life, but he could still empathize with this clear beta male. If somebody wore his gf like a turtleneck he would have some choice words for that individual. Namely "tubby" and "custard."

"Stop empathizing with me, I can tell that's what you're doing and it's seriously peeving me off." Griped Nunchucks.

Dipsy shrugged, not ready to let some lamewad control his empathy gland.

"For your crimes against my hot, beautiful, sexy supermodel gf, I sentence you to death! Attack!"

All at once the pony soldiers stopped napping and chatting among(us)st themselves and turned their attention to Dipsy.

In response Dipsy tugged at his collar, which was Fleur's lip, as if to say "gadzooks this is awkward."
> Rufus and his Newly-Housed Vagina Centipede vs the Terry-Clothed Teletubby, Tinky Winky
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rufus both was and wasn’t feeling so hot after adding Twilight Sparkle’s horse vagina to himself. He looked great, and that made him feel like a damn queen. He strutted his stuff, getting surprised looks from the nearby ponies as his cock and balls slapped either thigh with each step, exposing his gaping, purple penis-eater. He didn’t feel hot, as in, he didn’t feel well. Words in English can be used in multiple ways as humans can’t make enough sounds to properly describe all things forcing us to reuse already-made words.

He groaned and clutched his tummy, feeling strange aches, and also a sudden craving for every possible food. 

“I thought this was supposed to make me more powerful,” Rufus grumbled out, the sound waves carrying through his body into his vajayjay where Ots’ehte was getting better acquainted with his new home. 

“I’m still calibrating here, these things take time.”

Rufus released a drawn-out grunt. “I guess I’ll go get some snacks or something…”

“Jeez, what’s up with you?” Ots’ehte wondered as he poked and prodded at Rufus’ girly parts, eliciting a girly giggle from him and also an uncomfortable tickling sensation like that time maggots had been birthed inside his asshole. “Is it your time of the month or something?”

“My what?” Rufus wondered, only really half paying attention to the centipede in his vagina. Do you have a centipede in your vagina? It’s more likely than you might think. 

“You know, your period?” 

Rufus scratched his head. “I’m not an English major, so I hardly see what punctuation has to do with anything.” ((laughter))

“No, like the time each month when your vagina painfully sheds its skin, releasing like a gallon of blood.” 

Rufus stopped. “You’re fuckin’ with me…”

“No, I’m serious,” Ots’ehte incested, “it happens to all girls and they always complain about it and wear icky tampons and stuff.”

“That’s what tampons are for?” Rufus wondered, “I always thought they were weird Japanese candies. They certainly tasted like weird Japanese candy….I found some in Kim’s trash can once.”

“Who?” Ots’ehte wondered.

“Oh right, we never at any point have talked about anything even remotely related to Kim Possible and all that. Well, whatever. All you need to know is that she's a girl with nintendo 64 titties.” 

Rufus spotted an obnoxious-looking gingerbread building across the street. His nostrils flared up, filling with air molecules, before he exhaled a landslide of boogers across the cobblestone road. He could smell something sugary and sweet coming from that building, and he had to try it. He could also detect what smelled like a ruptured septic tank, but honestly he was hungee enough to probably eat that too at this point. 

He walked across the street and swung the door open, clearly intruding on a strange scene. Some kind of purple monstrosity had just placed a fat pony into his bag and turned to face him. 

“Damn bitch, you live like this?” he asked the purple colossus before him, before the neurons in his brain fired, sending electrical impulses down the length of his neural pathways. “BRAIN BLAST! You’re one of those monsters from the woods. You tried to kill me! But what are you doing here?” 

Tinky Winky shrugged, “Tubby Custard…” which Rufus somehow understood as “just looking for new Noo-noos for all my friends.”
 
Rufus stuck his pinky in his ear and swirled it around, dislodging a clump of earwax that Ots’ethe had used as a pillow and flicked it onto Tinky Winky’s tummy screen. “Did I have a stroke or can I understand you suddenly?”

Tinky’s face darkened as he looked down at the baseball-sized glob of ear gunk slowly rolling down his belly and leaving a creamy, yellow residue.

 “Tinky Winky,” he stated ((You’ll pay for that…))

Ots’ehte, being the smart one of the group, quickly gave his theory. “Maybe the vagina is already making you more powerful…”

“Makes sense,” Rufus shrugged. “Also, what’s a ‘Noo-noo’?”

“Tubby Custard.” ((A helper slave I create to service and clean us. Any good Noo-noo must be able to consume and store huge amounts of waste material, not that they have a choice.)) he pointed at his belly screen, which had a huge streak from top to bottom from the ear ickies, which showed some pictures of a blue trash vacuum, and also that purple pony. 

“Oh hey, I know that one. I fucked it into oblivion and stole its vagina with the trans-vaginator.” Rufus lifted up his bulbous scrote and pointed at the glistening purple pony pussy. “I tried not to make a transvaginal-mess while doing it, but let’s just say she’s not at her transvaginal-best, and could probably use some transvaginal-mesh, if you catch my driftwood…”

Tinky Winky did indeed catch his driftwood, and his face twisted into a scowl, like my face after I accidentally cummed into it. 

“Tubby Custard.” ((Oh no you di’int!)) He cracked his knuckles, each finger popping over thirty times because he was so angry. He liked that Noo-noo…

“Tubby Custard.” ((I guess I’ll just have to replace her with you.)) 

**Robert Downy Junior Here** Rufus would make a good Noo-noo as he’s always full of shit.

“Tubby Custard,” Rufus replied, but without the right inflection, making the whole thing sound very mocking and Tinky Winky was honestly insulted. 

“Tubby Custard.” ((I thought this town wasn’t full of racists, but clearly I was wrong.))

Rufus shrugged, then shrugged again, and then for a third time, “I don’t know about them, but I certainly am racist…”

It seemed Tinky Winky was done with words as he suddenly lunged forward with a speed that Rufus wouldn’t have expected had he not faced these beasts before, and he jumped backwards, doing two backflips and going through the window in a spray of glass and landing in the street. 

Tinky flexed his chest and his huge purple titties stretched out and latched onto the door on either side before he turned and tore it off the wall, throwing it into the customers inside. He stepped out and faced Rufus who wasn’t even bleeding from the glass he’d just jumped through.

“Heh, bet you’re wondering why I’m not bleeding from all the glass.” 

“Tubby Custard.” ((Actually I was wondering just that.))

“You see, it’s because my skin is extra stretchy, making me resistant to slashing damage.” he explained, grabbing a handful of flesh under his armpit and stretching it like Silly Putty. 

Tinky Winky nodded, then began swinging his heavy, red bag with skill and speed like a pair of nunchucks. “Tinky Winky.” ((Good thing my damage type is bludgeoning.))

Rufus gulped. Then he got serious. 

“If I’m going to fight a big meany like you, I’ll just have to transform!” Suddenly the camera panned out and an ethereal pink light emerged from Rufus’ body as he spun around, his skin rapidly tightening and loosening as it became a sailor suit and high heels. His face became much smoother as all the extra skin got pulled back onto his head into a pair of long twintails. He put up a peace sign next to his eye, winking and blowing a kiss as his transformation was complete. 

“Tee hee, aren’t I kawaii~~~ o<^3^_/?” 

Tinky Winky blushed, noting that Rufus was not only kawaii, but also sugoi… At least pretty sugoi for a soyboy… “Tubby Custard.” ((I’m still gonna bash yer fuck’n ‘ead in, I swear on me mum.))

While Tinky Winky was abashedly looking away, Rufus struck, spinning three times as he jumped forward, his mostly-erect cock swinging like a quarterstaff with his balls trailing just behind like a flail. The dick impacted into Tinky Winky’s cheek first, transferring all its built-up energy as it swept from one side to the other, a tiny spitz of pre-cum spraying into his left eye, then his balls followed up with enough concussive force to turn his head 90 degrees. 

Rufus landed with stylish grace as Tinky Winky was thrown backwards onto the ground. He reached up and rubbed his aching cheek, noting something odd. “Tubby Custard.” ((Did I feel an extra testical just now, or was that testicular cancer?))

Rufus laughed, “fret not, that lump you felt was indeed an additional testical. I’m impressed, not many can face my 3T scrote and live to tell the tale…” 

Tinky Winky stood up, dusting himself off as he re-examined the pink cutie that stood before him. 

“Tubby Custard.” ((Perhaps I’ve underestimated you. It’s been a long time since anyone has knocked me down.)) He began stretching, every joint in his body cracking as he stood up straight, revealing that he had a toned six-pack under his screen. He pushed a device on his collar, and with a puff of steam, several large weights fell away from his legs, arms, and chest, all perfectly colored to look like his normal terry cloth flesh. They cracked the cobblestone as they landed, revealing his bulging, body-builder-esque musculature. 

“Tubby Custard.” ((I wasn’t even using my full power before.))

Rufus was unperturbed, whatever that means, as he’d been in like 4 fights already this story. Suddenly Tinky Winky walked forward so fast, that I wish there was a word to describe the action of ‘walking quickly’, his mighty glutes clapping like the beat of a drum. Rufus dodge rolled like Darksouls in his world-famous game: Darksouls, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by Rufus’ huge sweaty feet. 

“Pshhh, you call those feet? I’ll show you my feet!” 

Tinky Winky nodded, saying perhaps a bit too eagerly, “Tubby Custard.” ((Okay, do it!))

Rufus leaped from the ground with all the grace of a cheetah if a cheetah had wings and could do flips. He rolled in the air before planting both of his sweaty feet right on Tinky Winky’s lips. He kissed them as Rufus kicked him backwards through the wall of Sugarcube Corner. Tinky Winky had foreseen this attack since the beginning of the fight, and had placed the door here just for this moment. He landed on it, converting it into so many splinters which I guess cushioned his fall or something. 

“Now that I got a cootie-hole, those are real, genuine gaymer girl feet. You should consider yourself lucky.” Rufus stood proud as Tinky Winky extracted himself from the pile of broken building. 

“Tubby Custard.” ((I do, your feet were so soft. I think I’ll lick them and your toes clean after this fight. Do you have an Only Fans?))

“Yeah, I got your ‘Only Fans’ right here!” he yelled, gyrating his head and neck and causing his pig tails to spin with rapidly increasing speed. Within seconds, Tinky was being buffeted by a hurricane-like gale. The already damaged Sugarcube Corner collapsed from the mighty winds, killing everyone inside except Pound and Pumpkin cake who’s crib kept them safe from the majority of the debris, but was now buried in rubble, condemning them to a slow death as they ran out of food and water. Pound Cake later cannibalized Pumpkin Cake, extending his sufferent slightly longer. 

Tinky Winky wasn’t about to be beaten in a competition of wind, however, and he turned and yelled his special move's name.

 “Tubby Custard!” ((WIND BREAKER!!!!)) His huge cheeks opened like a dam, and out came a fart he was holding in for the past minute. It was released not with a ‘toot’, but a ‘crack’, as it broke the sound barrier. The released gas cut through the tornado like a knife, striking Rufus and flinging him backwards through a thatch-roofed building. Had Tinky Winky not just released his shit into those ponies, that attack would have assuredly destroyed half of Ponyville, but as it stood it was still quite powerful.

Rufus crawled out of the wreckage, now covered in scuff-marks to show that he’s hurt a bit. “Damn, that ass can FART!” 

Tinky Winky giggled before bending backwards and blowing some smoke from his asshole. 

Rufus also bent down, which was hard because of his rounded belly, and whispered to O’tsehte, “he’s really powerful, I’m not sure if I can beat him.”

“Hmmmph, fine. I’ll lend you some of my power, but you need to hold on until I can get this thing sorted out.” Otseh’te conceded, “just aim and I’ll do the rest.”

Tinky Winky was looking pretty smug as he took a few steps forward. His belly screen turned on, showing an instant-replay of Rufus getting knocked away by the fart in slow-motion, complete with wacky graphics that read "lol" and "epic fail" respectively. Rufus blushed. 

“You think you’re so cool?! BEHOLD MY VAGINA LASERS@!” Rufus grunted, his face flush with effort and teeth grit as he strained all the muscles in his lower belly to pull his cock and balls up and out of the way of his vagina. 

Tinky Winky looked a bit confused, when suddenly a bright, red Ancient Vagyptian laser beam shone from the icky opening directly into his retinas. Tinky Winky didn’t even flinch in those few moments as his eyeballs superheated, boiled, and exploded inside his head, their mushy remains trailing down his cheeks like runny egg whites. 

“Tubby Custard.” ((OUCH, FUCK! MY EYES!)) 

Rufus had no pity for this monster, though, and rushed forward, delivering several powerful punches and kicks into Tinky Winky who grunted with each hit. Despite Tinky’s might, Rufus had the power of a main character, and also a magical girl, which is as strong as at least three average little girls put together, as well as anime. He somersaulted high into the air, using the power of friendship to reduce the effects of gravity as he did some poses and removed his magical girl wand from his ass. “Prepare to die evildoer as I blast you with my ~Doki Doki Heart-Heart <3 Super Love Star ==* Friendship Burst~!”

He shot straight down, ejecting a pink heart-shaped beam of pure FRIENDSHIP and MAGIC that was at least 20% cooler and more powerful than a SONIC RAINBOOM from his wand! It struck Tinky Winky, engulfing him in light, and he was surely destroyed. 

Rufus landed and dusted his hands, as there’s nothing quite like a hard day’s work! But, as the dust settled, Tinky Winky was still there, albeit slightly charred around the edges. He breathed heavily, but was clearly still in fighting form as he quickly flexed, showing off his gains. 

“Impressive,” Rufus conceded, “perhaps I’m gonna need more Ancient Vagyptian laser beams to take you down…” 

“Tubby Custard.” ((I’m fucking invincible. Your pathetic attacks cannot defeat me. I don’t even need my eyes to fight you.)) Suddenly his tummy screen turned on and showed a view from directly behind Rufus. 

“Wha-” he barely gasped out as he turned his head, only to be face-to-face with Tinky Winky’s tummy screen as he received a huge, purple kick right to the side of the fucking head. Rufus flew through the air before impacting something hard and unmoving, and he slumped to the ground. He looked up, not seeing Tinky Winky, until his gaze drifted further up and landed on the purple teletubby looming over him. 

“Tubby Custard.” ((Nothin’ personnel, kid.))

He kicked again, causing Rufus to form up into a ball before skidding to a stop on the cobblestone. Rufus pushed himself up with speed and dexterity that surprised even Tinky Winky, managing to dodge as he stomped right where Rufus’ head had just been. Seeing his chance, Rufus donkey-kicked upwards with all his might right into Tinky Winky’s groin with enough force to send his testicals into his skull cavity. However, his tasty gaymer girl feet impacted only solid terry cloth. 

Tinky Winky laughed at his pathetic attack. “Teletubbies reproduce asexually by budding,” ((Tubby Custard.))

“That’s not what you’re mom said last night,” he gasped out with all the bravado he could before dodging away and preparing himself for the next attack. 

“It would be great if you could hurry this up.” He said to Otseht’e.

“I’m doing the best I can! It’s real tight, and the womb is sealed shut. Plus all your jumping around is making this really difficult. It would be great if you could just stop moving for a bit…” The centipede snapped back. 

“Well I’m sorry if my getting pummeled is inconveniencing you,” Rufus said insincerely. He felt heavier than usual, and his previously-flat tummy had swelled to three-times its normal size. “I could really use some snacks, but this asshole won’t let me have any.”

Tinky Winky cocked his head, “Tubby Custard.” ((If you want snacks, you can have some of this.))

He pulled a jug from behind his back and tossed it over. Rufus inspected it, before twisting off the lid and giving it a sniff. It smelled just like Tubby Custard, and was orange just like Tubby Custard. 

“Tubby Custard.” ((Tubby Custard))

Rufus leaned forward and lapped up the substance with his long, prehensile tongue, noting that it tasted like Tubby Custard. 

“Hmm, Tubby Custard,” he said, before his eyes went wide and he threw the now-empty jug onto the ground where it shattered into a thousand pieces. He covered his mouth, unsure where that had come from. 

Tinky Winky nodded knowingly, giving a thumbs-up in Rufus’ general direction. “Tubby Custard.” ((Now then, let’s get back to it. I’ve been holding back, but I think I’ll release my true limiters and show you my special move that I haven’t had to use in 2,000 years. Prepare yourself!))

He suddenly began grunting as his head diddly straightened out, turning bright yellow as it glowed with power. Rufus’ body froze up, and he could feel that Tinky Winky was now a much different opponent to the one he’d been fighting. He had an air about him that was impossible to ignore, and something deep within his subconscious realized that this was the moment of his death. Despite how hard he’d tried, he was powerless to stop fate…

“TUBBY CUSTARD!” Tinky Winky announced, and Rufus’ heart skipped a few beats. 

“P-please, n-no-not like this…” Rufus begged, tears and mucus and drool streaming down his face. Tinky Winky took one step forward, before a brown blur shot through a nearby home with impossible speed, exploding it and all its inhabitants, which stopped on a dime just beside Tinky Winky. The purple juggernaut barely had time to look over before this new challenger rotated and bucked him straight into the sun. 

The baby head giggled with glee as he flew with unbelievable speed and incinerated in a puff of smoke against its cute widdle nose. 

Rufus let out a breath that had been hitched in his throat as he was suddenly saved. He inspected this newcomer, noting it was a brown pony with a hoof egg tattoo on its upper thigh, and a dented head. “Thanks for the assist, friend.” 

His relief disappeared in an instant as the pony turned towards him. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was scrunched up like a tissue that’s not happy that I cummed into it. With unrivaled brain activity caused by pure, focused rage, Touch Down spoke in a deceptively calm voice, “My name is Touch Down, Applejack’s boyfriend. You hurt Applejack. Prepare to die.”
> I Don't Need A Sick-Nasty Chapter Name To Validate Myself To You. This Is The Best You're Gonna Get!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elsewhere, Dipsy was not exactly having the time of his life. Despite being severely outnumbered he'd anticipated this battle would be child's play based on his previous experience with these creatures. 

A seemingly endless barrage of shoulder tackles from overhead Pegasi, and ruthless hoof-stomps from an ocean of Earth Ponies bounded against every inch of his body. Unlike the utterly futile attacks of the guards that had accompanied Tinky Winky's new Noo-Noo, these blows had a force behind them that, to Dipsy, was akin to being lightly smacked over and over again.

With the blows coming in at a rate of several hundred per second, the damage was accumulating, and so too was the pain. Dipsy tried to swat, swipe, and grab at the thrashing horde, but a battalion of unicorns a thousand strong held him in place with paralysis magic.

"Yeah, yeah motherfucker! You like that shit?" Taunted Chaz Nunchucks from afar, not really doing anything aside from his initial command.

Dipsy certainly did not, and he expressed his displeasure post-haste. "Tubby custard!"

By this point, the attacks had accumulated enough damage to make him sore all over his entire body. Why, he even had a bloody nose, zounds! 

"You're the one who's tubby pal." Rebutted Chaz crudely.

A single tear flitted down Dipsy's cheek as one of his deepest insecurities was picked at during a period of vulnerability he'd never experienced in his life. The tear was swiftly punched away by a horseshoed hoof. Had it not been, it would've evaporated against the heat of Dipsy's rage.

"Tubby custard!" He screamed, an electric aura flashing around his body as his head diddly extended to twice normal length.

Dipsy flexed, noting that the unicorns' magic petrification now felt akin to those resistance bands people use when they can't afford weights. This was going to be too easy.

Ignoring the stomps and tackles of the elite pony guards, Dipsy stood on his hands, raising his asshole to the sky. Clockwise he spun, gaining speed until the ponies that dared draw close were sucked in and blendered into chunks by Dipsy's swinging legs. 

"Dammit fall back," screamed Chaz loud enough for everyone to hear, perhaps his special talent is screaming extremely loudly.

"Honestly I think my momma might've seen this coming and had a sick sense of humor." Moaned a mangled, legless pony from beside Dipsy. "Why else would she name me Little Legloser?"

Maybe there will be a part of the story where we find out why his mom named him that. Only time will tell.

"Tubby custard!" Cried Dipsy, before unleashing a massive spire of spiraling diarrhea from his skyward anus.

The shit twister splurged upward like Ol' Faithful, sending several-thousand degree hot fecal matter into the sky in a straight line. As Dipsy spun around the plaza at supersonic speed, smashing through earth ponies and unicorns indiscriminately, his beam of shit followed him. It too carved its own path of death, this time drawing lines of sky blue in the overhead mass of looming black that was the Pegasus army.

As the shit fired up into the outer atmosphere, it eventually cooled and froze, falling back to the ground as massive chunks of shit-hail. The frozen chunks of shit smashed through ponies and infrastructure all over Ponyville, carried far beyond the plaza from which they originated thanks to stratospheric winds. 

Soon more than half of the once-strong army has been reduced to either chunks of flesh and limbs, or in the case of the Pegasi, become the blood portion of a blood-shit soup that eventually became blood-shit hail.

Unlike the crystal-brained guards from before, these ponies were starting to notice the fact that they were dropping like flies.

"Hey so this isn't looking like it's gonna work out in our favor," observed Singholm Uther, a middle-aged lady pony with two kids and no husband, "I think I might bounce soon, my son has hoofball practice in fifteen minutes."

Her concerns were dashed away in an instant as Dipsy collided with her, grinding her flesh into paste like asphalt against the back of a crashing motorcyclist. Within several blinks of an eye she was no more. This of course meant that her little boy wouldn't make it to hoofball practice.

"Yeah I think I'd rather be dishonorably discharged than melted to death in a beam of shit." Admitted Bible Bastard from above, having heard her thanks to his previously established gigantic ears. "I think my heartsweet back home in Canterlot would understand, even though I'm just a day from retirement."

Fortunately for Bible Bastard's heartweet the only discharge her husband was going to be receiving was a hot, brown one. Namely a several-thousand degree beam of shit that instantly melted his bones and flesh, while evaporating all the water in his cells. This caused all the melting skin to burst off his body in a puff of steam, as his skinless body was rocketed into the stratosphere where it would be converted into more blood-shit-hail. Now that he had died in the line of duty, there was no risk of her being married to a disgraced military deserter.


As their numbers dwindled below a quarter of their original size, the army saw fit to flee instead of fight. The ponies all clambered out of the plaza and into any part of Ponyville they could find that wasn't inhabited by these monsters. So pretty much all of the rest of it. As they scrambled past each other, some saw fit to clip their fellow former-soldiers in the knees. Perhaps this was out of self-preservation to slow Dipsy down behind them, perhaps some just didn't like each other.

Realizing the ponies had stopped sitting still to be slaughtered, and started doing something smart like running away, Dipsy knew he had to act fast. Scanning the escaping horde, he quickly found the garish color-scheme and armor he was looking for.

In a flash he dashed through the fleeing stampede, plucking one pony out of the remaining thousands. The one who had said all that mean stuff to him.

"Ohhhh duuuude, what, was it the tubby line? I'm sorry!" Screamed Chaz, not even caring if he looked like a sissy in front of his girlfriend who was now dead from being bludgeoned millions of times and spun at several thousand rotations per minute.

Dipsy didn't even bother taking the time to reject the apology, instead taking his hand and using it to rip Chaz's right foreleg clean off his body.

"Hmm, ouch." Said Chaz Nunchucks.

Then Dipsy ripped off his left.

"REEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Screamed Nunchucks as tears filled his eyes, "That hurt so fucking much more than the other one. Probably because I am left-hoofed."

Dipsy then followed suit with Chaz's legs, and then his wings, until he was holding a living sausage with a pony head.

"Please dude, I said I was totally sorry...isn't it enough that you killed my gf?"

Dipsy once again cringed at what he hoped would be the last time he'd ever hear someone say "gf" instead of "girlfriend" unironically. In lieu of an answer, Dipsy shoved Chaz up his butt asshole-first, so that Chaz's head was sticking out of his ass.

"Criminy…well do I at least get some last words?" Pleaded Chaz.

"Tubby custard." Relented Dipsy.

"You're the one who's tubby, faggot. Gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf."

Dipsy flexed his rectal muscles with all of his might, intending to blast Chaz into the sky with his molten feces like a human cannonball that gets liquefied and turned into blood-shit hail. Instead, Dipsy's shit traveled directly up Chaz's asshole, firing through his entire digestive tract in a straight line and up into his cranium. The pony head at the end of Dipsy's asshole inflated rapidly, swelling like Zim's pimple in that one episode of Invader Zim. In a manner similar to the pimple in that episode, Chaz's head burst, unleashing, instead of pus, ball after ball of red-hot blood-shit in random directions.

Once the roman candle display had ceased, Dipsy reached around to his asshole and pulled what was left of Chaz out of his ass, lazily tossing it onto the ground. Then he removed his mangled Fleur turtleneck and placed it over the pony's shit-caked remains. 

Tubby custard.((At least in the end he got to be with his gf.)) He thought to himself.


Suddenly, Dipsy felt a twinge of pain in his tummy screen. Craning his neck forward to get a better look, he saw something that rattled him to the core.

His homie, his broheim, who had promised him a brand new Noo-Noo of his own, was on his tummy screen, rocketing into the sun. Dipsy looked on in horror as his best dang pal in the whole wide world evaporated in an instant. The harsh, squealing chuckles of the baby head sun seemed to be going in slow motion, clawing at Dipsy's ear drums. Mocking him.

This didn't make sense, Tinky Winky was as tough as Teletubbies come! With a flick his tummy screen flashed to a new scene, this one of a big, buff, angry looking horse, and a weird little rat thing Dipsy only barely recognized. 

If he hadn't seen it on his own tummy screen he wouldn't have believed it possible for two lesser creatures to get the best of Tinky Winky. Still, it must've happened. Tummy screens never lie. If these creatures were that powerful, he wouldn't be able to take them on alone. He would need the help of his other best pals. So he tuned his tummy screen to the location of his still-living buddies Laa-Laa and Po. He was greeted to a scene of them angrily stomping down the streets of the town, clearly headed towards something. 

Whatever that was, he'd be sure to mansplain to them why his problem was more important when he caught up.





"Could we not talk about this first for…" Rufus began pleading before trailing off and bending down to his juicy fucking WAP. "Ots'ehte, how much longer before you're set up in there?"

Ots'ehte rolled his eyes as he hung up a painting of a sailboat on the vaginal wall above his CRT HV. "Well you can't rush art but it should only be a couple minutes."

“A few minutes…?” Rufus finished, his eyes bulging with inert inner goo as he pulled off his skintails and held them to his chest like Puss’n Boots in that scene in Shrek 2, lookin’ all cute-like. 

Touch Down didn’t understand cuteness, though, or perhaps the hat holding his shattered skull together was two-sizes too tight. Whatever the reason, his brain or his hat, he sat there in the street, hating this naked mole rat. His frown managed to convey his message faster than his mouth, but his mouth flapped open regardless to utter almost in slow motion as he attempted to convert thought into sound. “You hurt Applejack, and now I am going to hurt you.”

He made a slight movement, but Rufus quickly put his arms up in a placating manner, “Woah, woah, now! No need to be quick about it. Lets, uh… Talk first…” 

Touch Down didn’t seem to be paying him much mind as he charged up his muscles, preparing for a powerful smash attack. 

Rufus frantically looked for some way to change the subject, when he saw Touch Down’s thigh tattoo. “You ummm, like handling eggs with your hooves?” 

Touch Down immediately stopped as he heard the keywords ‘eggs’ and ‘hooves’ together, and his urge to hear more intensified. Rufus caught on quickly and began wracking his brain with his internal brain wrackers for a way to keep this conversation going. “Eggs are pretty cool… Boil ‘em, mash ‘em, stick ‘em in a stew. You know.”

Touch Down’s face furrowed a bit more and Rufus quickly started talking again. “I-I-I mean, one egg in the hoof is worth two in the anus, r-right?” 

He didn’t seem to be on the right trail here, and beads of sweat the size and shape on my sweaty gym socks started rolling down his face as he attempted to think of something. 

“You wanna see a cool trick?! I can make an egg-shaped thing appear!” Touch Down’s mouth curled into a derpy smile as the promise of a cool trick came into play. 

“Yeah, yeah, this is good. I can work with this,” Rufus mumbled to himself as he paced quickly in a circle. “I just crapped like 5 minutes ago, but if I focus really hard maybe I can digest that Tubby Custard really quickly…”

“Watch this!” He announced louder for Touch, then he began to strain. His face turned red, teeth grinding together with enough force for hairline fractures to run all the way up his molars and into his skull, making a sound like two slabs of concrete rubbing against each other. His innards heated up to well over twice the legal limit as they began processing the mush with an incredible speed. 

“What the heck man, I don’t have any AC in here!” Ots’ehte complained, hitting the vagina roof with a broom handle. 

Rufus didn’t bother answering, too focused on his task, his blood-shot eyes bulging out of his head, held only in place by their flesh ropes. Thankfully, he had so much extra surface area on his tummy due to the bloating that the intense heat was able to drain off into the atmosphere quicker than normal, otherwise he may have actually burnt up. A horrible gurgling sound issued from his intestines, signifying that his hard work was about to produce hot, painful diarrhea instead of the solid, healthy loaves that he’s used to. He began yelling, channeling all his power into colon control, wishing he hadn’t traded all the chaos emeralds for a pack of cigs to that black and red motherfucker. 

Over a minute passed before he was finally able to breathe again and by then his face was sweatier than Casey Tatum, and he had a brand new, super dense log of real, certifried Naked Mole Crap ready to reveal to the world. He took just a few moments to breath before he grunted again, this time his anus stretching to twenty-times its normal size as it squeezed out an egg-shaped chunk of feces the size of his head. 

With a Johnny Test whip-crack sound effect, his anus rubber banded, launching his newest creation into the sunset. They ignored the loud banging coming from a little further up the street, as it probably wasn’t important. He took a few deep breaths before turning to gauge Touch Down’s reaction, only to see that the pony was up on his feet, more irate(gamer) than even an irate(gamer) egret in Israel with Irish Isis enthusiasts. 

“Tough crowd…” Rufus joked, not sure what he did wrong, but he was surely about to be crunchy crunched beneath Touch Down’s gamer girl feet (if Touch Down was a gamer, a girl, or had feet).
> Brush Your Teeth If You Don't Want To Fucking Go To Jail, Kids
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dipsy was quite happy with his new shoes. He’d gotten tired of running around, so opted to simply fit a pair of screaming ponies onto his feet, his prehensile toes nestled comfortably in the nerve cluster that passed for a brain in these primitive beasts. With the slightest of movements, he was able to control their legs, running them under him down the roads of Ponyville while he relaxed. Why hadn’t he done this before? Now he wouldn’t have to walk anywhere ever again. Tinky Winky would be so happy to find a new type of foot Noo-noo to work on. 

The thought of Tinky Winky almost brought a tinge of sadness and regret to the great green galloping goliath, however Teletubbies lack even the barest hints of such emotions. Instead he felt only the white-hot burning of rage. His toes subconsciously strummed even faster as he contemplated what he’d do with the ones who’d murdered his best friend for absolutely no reason. He’d make them pay!

The pony shoes picked up speed racing through town without any regard for safety, spurred on by Dipsy’s resolve for revenge. A hearty squelching could be heard with each step as they troughed through the pulped remains of ponies, huge footprints revealing he was on the right track. Despite his growing excitement to join with his other roomies so they could go on an even wilder killing spree in honor of Tinky WInky, his shoes were really putting a damper on the moment with their incessant screaming. 

At times like this he really could agree with Rarity in Brony-skin Coats, in that these things should come with a skin lid. He resolved to simply sew their mouths shut later like in that one short story about having no mouth but still having to scream, whatever it’s called. 

Seabiscuit, now more commonly referred to as Dinky’s left shoe, shouted and cried, in the most excruciating pain of his entire life. He could feel each movement of the chicken-nugget-like toes as they plucked and pulled at the nerves in his brain meat.

 “This really sucks, doesn’t it?!” He shouted, between gasping breaths, glad that he at least had control of his mouth. He’d been a racer before his sudden, untimely career change, so he had always been quite fast, but this monstrosity was pushing his body even further than he’d ever gone. 

Next to him, Old Yeller also screamed. He’d been an ordinary Golden Retriever in a past life before being Isekai’d into Ponyville, only for Dinky to find him. He thought, not for the first time in the past few minutes, that the idea that ‘all dogs go to heaven’ may not be true after all. He replied to Seabiscuit’s question with a question of his own. “Ruff ruff?”

Seabiscuit didn’t quite catch what his forced traveling companion had said, so he asked him what he said. “What did you say?”

“Bark, bark, chomp, ruff!” Old Yeller replied, panting heavily from such exertion. Seabiscuit didn’t even respond and instead simply went back to screeching pathetically, and Old Yeller quickly joined him while rolling his eyes. Present company almost made him prefer the shotgun…

The sound of screaming ponies caught Laa-Laa and Po’s attention, and they turned and waved as Dipsy rapidly approached. Perhaps too rapidly, they soon realized as they jumped out of the way. Dipy, found out a bit too late he didn’t quite know where the brakes were on these things. Without time to figure it out, he simply collided into the side of a home, inside of which were cowering and hiding a family of ponies. 

Dipsy tore through the building’s wall like it was paper, but his shoes were not so lucky, having their legs pulverized. Without them holding him up, he tipped forward, traveling at extreme speed, the pony family barely had time to scream, but they did have a bit. Their shrill cries were cut off as Dipsy belly flopped onto them, his body reflexively tensing up like an emperor penguin on ice, and he hydroplaned on their mulched corpses, their blood acting as a suitable lubricant to allow him to effortlessly slide through the living room, kitchen, and out through the back wall. 

Any notion that anyone survived the crash inside the house was squashed as the room came down behind him, enshrouding the whole area in dust as Dipsy slid to a halt in the next door garden. Laa-Laa and Po trounced through the knee-high rubble and found their green friend lying on his belly wearing some janky ass kicks. 

“Tubby Custard?” Po asked, pointing at the brutalized ponies on his little toesies. ((What are those!?))

Dipsy rolled over and looked down at his shoes, both of which were bleeding and thrashing their bent and broken legs. He began crying as his new shoes were ruined, huge streams of snot and drool washing down his chinless neck and cleaning any trace of pony blood from his tummy screen. 

It turned on, and Laa-Laa and Po watched a flashback about Dipsy finding the ponies and putting them on his feet before running through town. They nodded with understanding, and each put a fat hand on one of his shoulders. 

Laa-Laa reached into the rubble and rifled around a bit before finding not a rifle, but an old shotgun. It looked like a toy in her big, good, strong hands, but she bent it in the middle and inserted a couple of shells into the twin barrels with practiced ease. She went back and explained to Dipsy that when ponies break their legs you have to put them down, otherwise they’ll be sad for the rest of their lives. “Tubby Custard.” 

She leveled the shotgun at Old Yeller, and he looked up, having been here before. He locked eyes with Laa-Laa, hoping at least that this time he’d be isekai’d somewhere more pleasant. She pulled the trigger, blowing his head off, and Po laughed and clapped while Dipsy rubbed the tears and snot from his face. Unfortunately, this time Old Yeller was isekai’d straight to hell where he suffered eternally for not being a Christian.  This of course means he was isekai'd back into Equestria because as we established earlier, Equestria is hell. I wonder who will shotgun him next? Perhaps Braeburn? Maybe Derpy will blow his brains out.

Laa-Laa then turned and smiled down at Seabiscuit who’d just witnessed his best friend be executed. 

“W-wait!” he cried, “there’s a hospital just down the street. They can fix all this easily!” 

Laa-laa shook her head sadly at him. He was clearly in denial. His legs were broken. He’d never race again. She brought up the shotgun and blasted him right in the face. All was quiet for a few moments before he started screaming again with renewed vigor. They all turned and looked at him with confusion, only to find that Laa-laa’s aim was a bit off and she’d only blown off his face without killing him. 

“Tubby Custard.” she said innocently, bopping the side of her head with her fist in a playful gesture. The group shared a laugh before Dipsy simply kicked his foot, flinging the wailing shoe up onto an electrical wire where it hung, attracting hungry ravens that came and feasted on its eyeballs and entrails. 

Dipsy was pulled out of his revelry as he saw Po’s face, which had a stinky brown skidmark spreading from cheek to cheek like the nice white carpet after I rub my bare ass on it. This Dirty Sanchez accented her red cheeks like a racing stripe, and Dipsy couldn’t help but think it actually suited her quite well. 

She noticed him looking and pointed to her face, explaining the whole situation. “Tubby Custard.”

He nodded, and explained that he was also looking for the same thing, and also explained that Tinky Winky had been murdered by the one they were looking for and a brown pony, “Tubby Custard.”

Po and Laa-laa looked down in mock sadness, but actually they were really angry. Laa-laa exclaimed that they should find the ones responsible and kill them even worse than they were already going to, “Tubby Custard.”

Po and Dipsy agreed, but wondered how they were going to find them in this maze of shitty pony buildings, “Tubby Custard.”

This all happened in a fraction of a second.

Then suddenly a brown projectile struck Po right in the shnozz, leaving it broken and covered in a thick layer of brown. Dipsy and Laa-laa looked at her and began laughing. 

“Tubby Custard!” Laa-laa shouted while pointing, as if to say ‘we knew you were a brown-noser, but this is ridiculous!’. 

Dipsy laughed too, until he caught a whiff of the projectile that had struck her, which now spun on the ground with its remaining momentum, dented and steaming. Po snorted in a nostril-full and Laa-laa breathed in the shit fumes, all three of them coming to the same conclusion.

“Tubby Custard!” they shouted in unison, realizing instantly that this was the smell of digested tubby custard. They’d know that smell anywhere, and they turned to see where the turd had come from, only to spot the pink rat man and the brown pony squaring off a little further down the road.
> Watch Mojo's Top 10 Saddest Anime Endings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, we got a problem here.” Ots’ehte announced as he scratched his head in confusion. 

“You’re telling me!” Rufus shot back, an angry Touch Down slowly bearing down on him, each footstep holepunching a hunk of pavement and revealing that he’s actually about half a leg taller than he appeared due to being partially submerged. 

“No, I mean, the womb is completely shut off. I finished decorating out here, but the actual important spot is in the womb. All this was just foreplay.” 

“I thought you were the expert on this sort of thing!” 

“Actually, I was a virgin before I met you.” Ots’ehte kicked his many centipede feet bashfully at the vagina carpet as he blushed. “Y-you were my first.”

Rufus was happy to hear that, but was too embarrassed to share his feelings with his friend, and instead changed the subject. “Well break it open or something!” 

“It’ll be excruciatingly painful,” Ots’ehte explained.

“You’re a big centipede,” Rufus said, rolling his eyes. Imminent death having dulled his desire to banter with an ugly, overgrown rolly polly. 

“For you,” he replied. 

Rufus only had a moment to wonder about that before he felt a sharp pain in his tummy rumpler. 

“Ouch, Jesus. A little warning first.” He doubled over, clutching his huge midsection. 

“That wasn’t me!” the centipede yelled, ducking under the sofa as plates and paintings crashed to the vagina floor all around him. “Something’s in there. And it’s PISSED!”

“Not as pissed as it’s gonna be!” Rufus remarked, and attempted to deal with the issue in one of the only two ways he knew, with reason and persuasion. He hefted his fists, one labeled ‘reason’ and the other ‘persuasion’ and I think I already made this joke at some point and I don’t like reusing jokes but I already typed it. He punched his tummy with all the force he could manage, and immediately his face scrunched with pain like a tissue after I’ve cummed into it. 

“Can I get some ‘F’s in chat?” he gasped through the pain. 

Ots’ehte wouldn’t be giving him any F’s, though, as suddenly the walls began constricting on him. “Oh heckies, what’s going on?!”

 He attempted to crawl out, but the powerful vagina walls had a firm hold and began sucking him further inside. “Get me outa here!”

Despite the pain, Rufus tried to fulfil his best friend’s request, but he couldn’t wrap his arms all the way around his huge tummy to reach his icky vicky girl-zone. 

“Noooo!” his friend shouted, before going completely silent. Rufus mirrored this call with a “Noooo!” of his own as he collapsed on the ground, looking up at Touch Down who seemed even more confused than normal. 

With his ear to the cobblestone, Rufus could suddenly hear and feel strong vibrations from nearby, and he turned his head to behold as three more Teletubbies approached. 

“Oh great, can this day get any worse?!” he complained, fear welling up inside him for the hundredth time. Then he spotted Po’s face, and the streak of shit across it and began LOL’ing out loud. 

“Haha, say buddy, before you step on my head, look at that.” 

Touch Down turned and saw Po’s poopy face and immediately began to laugh as fecal funny. The two of them shared a long, hard-earned giggle at Po’s expense. Her face turned red, but no one could tell because it was already red, and also covered in shit. 

Once they finished, Rufus leaned up on his elbow and shared a look with Touch Down, feeling that perhaps now that Ots’ehte was gone he had room for a new friend in his life. “Say, you don’t seem as bad now that I’m not competing with you for your girlfriend. We should be friends.”

Touch Down frowned, unfamiliar with the concept of ‘friends’. He knew what a girlfriend was, but Touch Down didn’t really want to fuck this rat thing. Rufus saw what he mistook as apprehension on the pony’s face, and decided he’d try a different approach. 

“If not friends, how about dick brothers? We both fucked Applejack, after all. That means we share a special bond and are closer than anyone else.” 

Touch Down wasn’t sure. He knew he was mad about something, but right now this was so much to sort through for him. Would he be friends with this rat, or would he kill him?

Rufus managed to buy some time from getting murdered by the idiot pony, but now the three Teletubbies were getting awful close. They looked angry, and he didn’t just assume this because they always look angry. It didn’t help that the pain in his tummy was so great he couldn’t even walk. He dragged himself across the ground, well aware that he wasn’t making nearly enough progress.

Then his skin turned into nipple-sized goosebumps as he heard something that really put the fear of spook into him. 

“Tubby Custard.” They were right behind him. 

He turned slowly, meeting eyes with the legs of the three of them as they gazed down on him like a bunch of big black men around one small white woman.

“W-what a lovely day…” Rufus said lamely. 

Laa-laa’s huge yellow hand came down and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, lifting him to eye level as she stared directly into his soul. Her tummy screen lit up, displaying his darkest regrets and playing them back while the other two teletubbies watched and laughed. 

The time he’d pissed himself in school while giving a book report and everyone laughed at him… The time he’d pissed his bed right after seducing a girl for the first time and she laughed at him… The time a bunch of teletubbies laughed at him pissing himself in fear… Wait, that one hadn’t happened! 

Rufus then realized he could feel warm urine streaming down his legs, and he began crying. 

“Tubby Custard,” said Po through her laughter.

“Tubby Custard,” agreed Dipsy.

“Tubby Custard,” repeated Laa-laa, but louder this time and getting laughs out of everyone as a result. Everyone except Rufus, who was having a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad time. 

This might have been the worst day of his life. Well, maybe second worst after the time his dad had pissed on him as a child instilling a strange PTSD piss response in him which he’d managed to forget about until just now. Unbeknownst to him, the teletubbies had been discussing how they were going to dispose of Rufus in the most humiliating way possible as revenge for Tinky Winky. The group had decided on sticking him up one of their butts, as Tinky WInky loved butt stuff, and also they all loved butt stuff and aren’t very creative. 

Dipsy bent over, presenting himself. His huge anus stretched open like a yawning chasm, a portal into another world. A world which promised pain. But Rufus recognized a certain glint in the fleshy darkness of that tunnel, and memories came back to him of a similar journey through a great green ass. It was at that moment, he knew. 

Before the teletubbies could act on their plan, Rufus’ e.ntire body suddenly went rigid, and a torrent of water shot from his underside with all the pressure of a ruptured fire hydrant, digging a furrow in the road. The only thing stopping him from flying off into space was Laa-laa’s ultra mighty grip, which held him in place as he drained himself. 

The teletubbies began laughing again in earnest, thinking he’d wet himself for a second time today. The fools, if they knew what was really going on, they’d have used this time to run…

“Tubby custard,” Laa-laa stated as Rufus dripped the last traces of liquid from his newest hole. He lay limp in her hands panting heavily as it was finally over. That thought left him soon after as his girl parts suddenly began to strain on their own, filling him with a pain that honestly wasn’t that bad. As a man, he had to deal with this type of pain on a daily basis. Apparently women not only don’t have souls, but they also like blowing minor pain completely out of proportion. Big surprise. 

He grunted slightly as something big and covered in sharp edges seemed to be pushing its way out of him. He’d describe the experience a lot like taking a magnum-sized dump after eating 30 raw eggs whole, their indigestible shells digging bloody divots in your colon on the way out, but coming out of the front hole instead. 

His new purple vagina turned red as it stretched to the same diameter as a large pepperoni stuffed-crust pizza, releasing a few spurts of bloody vaginal fluid.

“Tubby custard,” Po announced, as if to say, ‘check it out, guys, he ran out of urine so now he’s pissing blood. What an insufferable, stupid, idiot loser. I’m glad we’re about to kill this piss baby. Lol. Lmao. ROFLcopter.’

Rufus would surely add this to the Watchmojo top 10 anime moments that keep him up with regret until 4 in the morning, but that would come later. For now, he grunted and pushed, a shriek reverberating through his bones from somewhere deep inside. 

Could it be, I’m finally awakening to my inner power? As the protagonist, it must be my time to shine! he thought. 

Suddenly something large and slick slid out from inside him and landed with a plop on the ground. It squirmed and writhed within an amniotic sack like a caterpillar, making a horrid shrieking sound that permeated its thin barrier. 

The teletubbies tried to make sense of this strange new bodily excretion. They’d all produced some truly awful expulsions, and, in fact, they were quite proud of this. Like once when Dipsy had such terrible pubic pustules that produced the foulest-smelling goop, or when Po strained so hard while shitting that she voided one of her many bones, or when Laa-laa hacked up a fist-sized kidney stone as though it was a tonsil stone. However, they’d never shit out a living, screaming, flesh monstrocity.

Po bent down and poked at it, wondering if perhaps in his fear, the rat accidentally pissed out his internal organs. 

They didn’t have long to speculate on this new thing, as it suddenly slit open the fleshy sack, tearing it open with a multitude of multisegmented orange legs. It gasped its first breath of air as it stood up on shaky, long, pony legs with wheels at the bottoms, a hundred other legs running along its length, sticking out at seemingly-random angles. Its flesh was pink and wrinkly except on its back where a segmented brown carapace ran the full length of its body. Its front pony legs were purple, while the back ones were orange, and it had a dark purple tail with magenta highlights. On its head, a stetson hat, still dripping with birthing fluid, sat just behind a purple horn, and between a pair of ear holes. A pair of maxillipeds twitched just under its very pony face, long claws oozing venom, and its three pairs of large pony eyes blinked at random intervals as they beheld sun for the first time. It opened its mouth and let out a horrific screech, clearly unhappy to have been birthed into this gay world, revealing multiple rows of pony teeth behind a pair of massive buck teeth and a vacuum hose where its tongue should be.  

Rufus looked at this abomination with wide eyes, thinking it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Despite all the fear he’d felt, he was so happy to have birthed new life. Is this what motherhood felt like? 

Laa-laa unconsciously relaxed her grip, dropping him to the ground a few feet from the creature as she was transfixed by its stare. 

“Tubby custard?” she asked, perhaps questioning the creature or searching for validation from her companions as they witnessed an event that unsettled even them. 

“You need a name,” Rufus said to his spawn, and it turned to look at him with its green and purple eyes. He felt a chill run down his spine as it inspected him with malicious, predatory pony eyes. “I’ll name you after my friend who you remind me a lot of. His name was Ots’ehte, so I’ll call you by his name backwards because I’m very creative. From now on, your name is Ethesto.” 

The creature immediately shrieked in rage, a bone-chilling shrill that made Rufus quite aware that his child wasn’t too happy with the stupid name. What kind of name is ‘Ethesto’ anyway? It reared up on its back legs and stood erect, a full head taller than Rufus, and appeared ready to strike him down, when suddenly Laa-laa kicked it in the side. Ethesto rolled across the street, and Laa-laa flexed triumphantly. 

“Tubby custard!” ((How disgusting.)) She pulled a tissue from her terry cloth flesh pocket and wiped her foot where she had touched the repulsive beast.

Rufus was once again scared, not only of the Teletubbies, but of this monster, and he scrambled back, putting distance between both parties. Despite Laa-laa’s clear size advantage, Ethesto didn’t seem to be too bothered by the kick as he scurried to his feet once again, this time looking at the yellow, red, and green things that dared to stand before him. 

Laa-laa cracked all 600 joints in her fists, then did the same to her foot fists, as she prepared to mash this thing into the grossest tubby custard. Once she was done, she figured she could feed it to Rufus before they shoved him up Dipsy’s ass, as that would be pretty funny. 

She stepped forward, only for Ethesto to suddenly open his mouth, firing an Ancient Vagyptian laser beam that easily passed straight through her body, vivisecting her at the waist. Her torso fell back onto the cold stone and she stared at the baby sun in confusion as it giggled down at her, as though it enjoyed her plight. 

It took only seconds for her to compose herself, and she stood back up, held aloft by her big arms and trailing her rotting innards from the opening at the bottom. They could sew her back together later, for now they had to deal with this horrible thing. 

She gazed at where the creature had previously been, only to see it leaping through the air directly towards her, its pony legs splayed like a pouncing jungle cat. She didn’t have time to dodge out of the way, and gasped as it bared down on her, only for Po to suddenly jump in the way. 

Ethesto struck Po’s mighty belly, a bulging mass of fat that could shrug off even the mightiest hoof blows of pathetic ponies, and tore into it with such ferociousness even the red one was surprised. All 100 of his legs slashed with inhuman speed (likely because he’s not even part human), tearing open a terrible gore chasm. 

Biden his time.

“Tubby custard,” Po shrieked in surprise, having shrugged off any attack ever delivered upon her bulging body. She reached down, intent on grabbing the beast to crush it between her fingers, but it was gone. Her eyes widened as she felt something moving around inside her and bent down to look into the hole in her stomach, seeing the tail-end of the monster as it swerved around a corner inside her impressive girth.

She grunted and swayed side to side as large bulges beneath her skin traveled almost randomly around her body, clearly wreaking havoc on her sensitive organs. In a panic, Po opted to use her most prominent weapon, and she belly flopped onto the ground, hoping her fat-choked organs would crush the monstrosity. Nothing happened for a few moments, and Po smiled as her mighty, cholesterol clogged insides seemed to do the trick. 

She pushed herself up and wiped some dirt and horse shit from her chest from laying on the dirty Ponyville streets which were absolutely crawling with horse shit from all the ponies that used to live here. She wiped a hand across her brow and noticed she was sweating profusely. “Tubby custard.” ((Boy it’s hot out here… I should go get some cool, refreshing NEW Coca-Cola-flavored Tubby Custard from our sponsors, Coca-Cola. Quench your thirst just like all your favorite teletubbies from Kim Possible: A sitch in Equestria fame.))

She pulled an elongated bottle of black tubby custard from out of frame and took a long swig before sighing in relief. “Tubby custard.” ((Awww, cool and refreshing, just as advertised.)) 

Dipsy didn’t want to interrupt the paid advertisement and waited for the end to point out the obvious to Po. “Tubby custard.” ((You’re glowing.))

Po beamed, not used to being complimented by boys, especially ones as cute as Dispy. “Tubby custard.” ((Thank you. I combed my ass hair today.))

Dipsy shook his head. He’s far too shy to compliment girls, even if he did think Po’s ass hair was the perfect mix of erotic and innocently sweet making her even more appealing. Also her ass is fat, and damn can it fart! “Tubby custard.” ((No, I mean you’re radiating light from inside, likely about to explode with the build up of energy.))

Po looked down, and, sure enough, her midsection was glowing even brighter than when she streamed a live feed from the baby head sun on her tummy screen. 

“Tubby custa--.” ((I’m not sure why, but I feel that this can only be a good th--)) She was interrupted as her body violently exploded as hundreds of Ancient Vagyptian laser beams erupted in all directions at once, tearing her apart at the midsection with such force that her head and shoulders were wrent from their perch atop her torso and flung onto an electrical wire where she hung right next to Seabiscuit who was still screaming. 

“Tubby custard,” she greeted him, and then the ravens began feasting on her eyeballs. 

Inside the scorched cavity of Po’s body, Ethesto stood, even bigger and less-harmed than he had been before the fight began, vacuuming her putrid guts through his Noo-noo mouth. 

“He’s growing more powerful,” Rufus realized, and knew that he had to get out of here before it turned its sights on him. 

Ethesto looked back at the gaping Laa-laa, and jumped towards her. Teletubbies aren’t capable of feeling fear, but Dipsy suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to leave the area as fast as possible and return to home hill to play with his voice horns. He turned around to high-tail it away, when suddenly a large object split his asshole open as it began to force its way inside. 

He gasped and let out a short scream, thinking that Ethetso had already finished with Laa-laa and was moving on to him, when he looked back and spotted Rufus half stuck in his asshole. His legs and stubby tail kicked wildly as he attempted to force himself in, and Dipsy couldn’t help but giggle and turn around, putting his pinky to his mouth like Shrek in that one scene. 

If Rufus was that intent on entering his ass, he’d help him. Straining his entire body, he sucked Rufus inside with a ‘pop’. Leaving him to his shitty fate, Dipsy started running again, but was a bit confused that he couldn’t even feel Rufus inside him. Perhaps he’d instantly turned into shit or something. Dipsy didn’t care much at this point and kept running. He didn’t get far as a pair or laser beams scythed through the air in an ‘X’ just in front of him. He ran for a few moments more before his body split into four pieces and crumbled into a pile. 

The last thing he saw was Ethesto slinking towards him, soaked in Laa-laa’s blood, before he spat another Ancient Vagyptian laser beam. 

Touch Down had been in deep contemplation about what Rufus said while events unfolded, so he had a front-row seat as a teletubby-slaying abomination was spawned just a few feet away and proceeded to go on a rampage. Of course, even a fool like him could immediately notice that this creature bore a striking resemblance to his girlfriend, Applejack. He got a throbbing hard on as he watched its ass sway back and forth while it slaughtered the multicolored McDonalds mascots, and immediately knew what to do. 

While it had its back turned to him just after finishing off the green one, he ran up and mounted it so fast he created a sonic boom. Ethesto struggled for a second until Touch Down’s gargantuan (for a pony) cock sunk into its rear end. Instead of struggling, he opened his mouth and moaned in ecstasy as Touch Down thrusted with enough speed to rip an ordinary pony in half. But this was no ordinary pony, this was a naked-mole-rat-centipede-unicorn-earth-pony-noo-noo hybrid, and even more importantly, it was part Applejack. Ethesto rode his cock with all the skill Applejack’s DNA had passed on to him and then some, and he waved his hat around in excitement with one horse hand. 

Within seconds it was over as Touch blew his load, and the pair sat happily, knowing that nothing could come between their love now. They were too powerful. They would have a happy end after all…






Meanwhile, in Dr. Drakken’s previously-secret base, Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable stood staring at Shego’s open ass. She had long since died, still strapped in that compromising position, and her rotting corpse released an otherworldly stench through its otherworldly anal portal. 

“It has been literally hours, and he still isn’t out. Maybe we should just give up and go home.” Kim Possible said sassily, like a teenage girl. “I have cute boys to talk to on the phone as well as cheer practice and also toooons of homework.”

“We can’t give up on him yet,” Ron insisted for the fortieth time as they’d repeated this same argument constantly since the moment Rufus had entered Shego’s ass in the first place. “Besides, he’s spent way longer than that in my- I mean, in asses anonymous.” 

Kim didn’t seem kimvinced. “It has been literally hours, and he still isn’t out. Maybe we should just give up and go home.” 

Suddenly Shego’s rotten ass glowed with an unnatural light, forcing the two of them to shield their eyes. When it diminished enough, they looked back and saw Rufus was emerging from it, looking exhausted. 

“Buddy, you’re back!” Ron said excitedly as he grabbed his best friend and swung him around. 

“Ehhh, nachos,” Rufus resplied intelligently, and Ron couldn’t help but agree. 

“Yeah, I could go for some Buenos Nachos too buddy.”

“Before that,” Kim butted in. Jeez, what a bitch… “Did you defuse the bomb?”  

Rufus’ eyes widened to be even more grossly oversized than normal as he remembered for the first time the whole reason he was in Equestria in the first place. After a few moments he smiled nervously and gave a thumbs-up, which Kim took at face value as she didn’t feel like questioning the strange body language of a disgusting fucking rat. 

“Alright, looks like the mission was a success, time to head home.” The pair looked around the open room, trying to figure out how to leave. They didn’t have a Hitler to drill them out this time. 

While she swept the area, Ron patted Rufus’ head with a finger. 

“Good job buddy. I knew we could count on you.” Rufus sweated and swallowed nervously. Ron pulled out his waistband and revealed his bare, porcelain-white ass for Rufus. “There you go buddy, you deserve some rest.”

Rufus immediately perked up as being inside assholes is his favorite place (dumb fuck teletubbies thought it was a punishment), and he hopped on in. 

Ron joined Kim who had found a large door with an exit sign above it. 

“Found it,” she announced with pride. No task was impossible for Kim Possible. She opened the door and immediately molten magma spewed through the gap, filling the room and incinerating all of them. 





Meanwhile in Equestria, Celestia sat uncomfortably on the floor in Twilight’s house. 

“Guys…?” She called out, but received no answer.

“Is anypony there…?” She sat there for hours wondering when Twilight or her royal guards would return. This bomb in her ass was getting awfully itchy, and she really wanted them to come and disarm it before it went off. 

Then her internal clock (and I don’t mean the one on the detonator) told her it was time to lower the sun, and frowned, remembering that she couldn’t control the sun anymore.

A few feet away, a speech horn slowly extended from the ground with a long, drawn-out fart. 

“Time for tubby bye bye. Time for tubby bye bye. Time for tubby bye bye.”

The baby head sun yawned and began lowering on its own. It made eye-contact with Celestia through the window for the briefest moment and giggled, as though amused by her plight. Celestia pushed that thought away, knowing she was only ponysonifying an inanimate object. 

As the sun sunk down completely, the bomb in her ass suddenly went off, releasing a 500 megaton atomic yield which annihilated all of Equestria (including Touch Down and Ethesto who you thought would have a happy ending, you fucking imbecile). 

There were no survivors. 


The end…?