The adventure Begins
When the cutie mark crusaders first came together made a vow to find theirs and other blank flanks find their cutie marks in any way necessary.
Although every method they tried all ways failed in the end, their attempt in skydiving leaving them in hospital, the attempt to be teachers ended unsuccessfully in the least and finally the sorry attempt at bomb defusal really did end in a bang.
All these escapades really didn't help the CMC's school work they started to get behind and failed in every subject, all of this mainly to due either from their stupidity or the fact that every other day they were either in hospital.
So on the Monday morning you could understand they were not enthusiastic to arrive at the building they called a school.
Although on this particular day they are going to find out a lot more than any teacher could ever teach.
As they walked down the corridor towards the class room of miss cherralie, who they have grown to hate more and more through out the years, they saw hanging off the crumbling wall a small piece of lifeless paper being held on by an insignificant blob of blue tack, the thing that was going to change their lives for ever.
The football sign up sheet. Once they had writing their names on this single sheet of paper, it all changed.
As they learned the skill of football they realised that it was they only thing they had the potential to reach and their cutie marks appeared!
On the shithole known as earth there is one particularly stinky town called Aldey Valley. Aldey Valley may be an absolute pile of fecus, but the worst speck of shit has to be the run down street of council houses known as Arnhem road. On this disgustingly scummy street lives an equally scummy cunt. His name is Shawn and his unwashed armpits create most of Aldey Valley stench. He obviously never heard of personal hygiene as his skin was caked in dirt and shitty ginger whiskers that stuck out of his flabby neck at random angles. He was truly the definition of benefit thief. Because Shawn couldn't quite get the grades he needed for a real job, he was stuck living with his abusive parents and had to deliver parcels for a living despite the fact he was 22. He was a brony. He whittled away the depressing hours of his life by clopping over his favourite pony, Sweetie Belle. He had sex toys and bondage gear in the basement which his parents had shoved him in, just in case a magical portal opened and he got the chance to kidnap the young filly.
Shawn pulled his pathetic excuse for a body of his poundland bed and walked up the stairs to the front door. He never bothered to shower because he knew he'd be hopelessly single for his entire mean less life. He stepped out the door and breathed in the fresh air that was a nice change from the stench of B.O and rotting meat that lurked within the shabby walls of his parents council house. He fumbled around in the dirty disgusting shorts he never washed and drew a rusty wreck of a key from his pocket. He placed it into putrid coloured Citroën Picasso and forced the door to swing loosely open. Hopefully he could start his round before his mother awoke from her drunken daze. But he was too late.
"SHAAAAAAAAAWN" screamed a butch, London accent behind him. The woman it belonged to was a large woman wearing a flimsy dressing gown. She was the kind of person who regretted everything she had done in her life. Her eyes were full of rage as she continued to screech.
"GET ME SOME CHIPS FROM SEEEAHAWKS!"
Seahawks was the most run down disgrace of a chippy in the country. The chips there were made of more grease than actual potato and the sight of them made the average person puke. Shawn spent most of his time in Seahawks buying chips for this barbaric woman. Her name was Nicoli but most people knew her as the fucking weird chip woman.
"Fine Mother..." Shawn sighed, his voice heavy with defeat from his mothers demands and his failure in life. If only his favourite pony could magically appear and make the pain go away... Or at least let him inflict the pain he had suffered on to this unlucky pony.
Coincidently at this very moment in time Scootaloo, Applebloom and, of course, the majestic Sweetiebelle, were trotting through the pony Ville market talking about the possible existence of other worlds.
"Imagin if ther wer othor wrlds weer al dem creeturs walk on two leegs" Applebloom shat out of her mouth in a virtually incomprehensible drawl.
"Are you fucking high you cunt?" Scootaloo quickly countered in an annoyed tone.
"Fuck the fuck off, are physically dumb" Chirped in Sweetiebelle.
Just then an old, wrinkly green pony slowly trotted over to the fillies.
"For fucksake" Scootaloo murmered under her breath as the pensioner began to rage
"Why da fack aint you cunts in skool?" Granny Smith questioned, taking the chance to try out her new street lingo.
"Cuz YOLO" Sweetiebelle whined back, her voice as annoying as ever. The truth was Scootaloo and Applebloom had dropped out of school after finding their cutie marks and because Sweetiebelle was about as useful as the PC Shawn operated she promptly got kicked out with nobody to copy from. "We dont need GCSE's" Stated Scootaloo, her voice brimming with swag "we got our cutie marks as footballers."
Sure enough when the murky orange and niggly yellow ponies smashed their asses together a football was apparent on each underdeveloped cheek. Sweetiebelle just stepped backwards and tried to resist the urge to slit her throat. Granny Smith however was stepping towards the fillies, a twisted smile plastered upon her saggy face. "DAT ASS" She howled in a menacing tone.
"Fuck! She's a pedo" Screamed Sweetiebelle, her voice full of anxiety. "Leg ut gurlz" Applebloom added as they rapidly turned 180° and began the fastest gallop their innocent little hooves could muster. The crusaders had to change their clubs names after the two members discovered their cutiemarks, after much discussion they had decided to name themselves "The untouchable crusaders", anyway the crusaders ran all the way through pony Ville jumping over shit and generally being ninjas, but Granny Smith kept up the pace and soon enough they found themselves stuck between the howling incarnations of the Everfree forest and the moisturizing midsection of Granny Smith. There was nowhere left to gallop.
"Looks like its the end of the line girls" squeaked Sweetiebelle as Granny Smith stalked ever closer to them "Ah jus caan beleaf grana smiyh wood du dis" Applebloom spat out.
"More like Granny Saville" Scootaloo sarcastically remarked. Just as all three fillies had given up on life and prepared themselves for the violent rape that would surely ensue. Scootaloo noticed something sparkling out of the corner of her eye...
"Girls look! Its a conveniently placed magical portal leading to a world called earth!" She screamed. Given the current situation Applebloom and Sweetiebelle needed no more convincing, they bolted towards the portal and all three fillies carelessly jumped into the non discreet glowing circle.
The untouchable crusaders fell for what seemed like an eternity of swirling, bright colours that would make even the highest of hippies shit themselves, they gracefully landed on a strange black surface with odd white lines scrowled upon it. The first thing Sweetiebelle noticed was the overwhelming nauseating stench that clung to the air of this dull, filthy street like Nick Clegg hung onto the last non-existent scrap of his dignity. It took all her willpower to keep the combination of bile and vomit that was pushing its way up her throat from exploding out of her mouth and covering her two friends. Applebloom couldn't help but look at all the cheap, grey concrete walls that made up the so-called houses that made up this pathetic excuse for a street. It felt like The scummy sights around her were draining all the happiness from her soul and that she might go blind any moment. For Scootaloo it was the sounds that made her want to kill herself, dogs barked in a way that made them seem like specks of shit and the thick, London accents could be heard screaming profanities through the paper thin walls of the street's shacks, not to mention the mid frequency shit that was pretending to be music blasting our for all to endure. It was Sweetiebelle who noticed the cheap, plastic sign that hung ajar on a rusted metal pole "Arnhem road?" She questioned in a questionably questioning voice.
"The fuck is this shit?" Scootallo questionably questioned Sweetiebelle's questioning question.
"I dunno" mumbled Sweetiebelle. "But at least we're safe!" She added positively.
It was at that moment Shawn stepped out of his house, lasso in hand.