If you Give a Pony a Pretzel

by Salted Pingas

First published

What happens when you give a pony a pretzel? Mayhem, my dear reader. Pure and utter mayhem.

You've heard what happens when you give a mouse a cookie, you've heard what happens when you give a moose a muffin, and you've heard what happens when you give a pig a pancake. But when you give a pony a pretzel, prepare for mayhem, because you know what?

That's exactly what you get.

Warning.

The following fic was pulled out of my ass in the span of about an hour. As per the comedy tag, it isn't meant to be taken seriously at all.

Viewer discretion is advised.

Rated teen for language and cartoon violence.

If you Give a Pony a Pretzel

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If you Give a Pony a Pretzel.

If you give a pony a pretzel, and tell them what it is then they will eat it. And when they eat it, if it is one of those hard-pretzels as it should be, then it will be crunchy and make a mess of crumbs.

And if these crumbs are made, you’ll probably have to clean them up. This so, seeing as the pony is obviously your guest, and a good host never has a guest help clean up.

Yet as you begin to clean up this mess of crumbs, the pony will still offer their help, for they did make the mess, and they are a good, kind guest.

But irregardless of whether or not you choose to let them help, the mess will be cleaned, the crumbs eradicated from the earth…

FOREVER!!!

Pinkie, you aren’t helping here. I appreciate the gesture, but this really isn’t necessary.

Aww, really? You sure I can’t help?

Yes, Pinkie. I’m sure that I can handle this.

Are you really sure?

Yes, I am certain that I don’t need your help.

Are you really, really sure?

Yes. I am.

Are you really, really, really sure?

Pinkie, I am absolutely…

Really, really, really, really

For the love of all things holy and damned! Yes, Pinkie. I can handle this on my own!

Well okay, fine. Just call me if you need me, okay?

I’ll keep that in mind.

Okie dokie lokie! See you later, alligator!

By the beard of Santa Christ, ugh! Now…where was I? Oh yes, ahem…

…But irregardless of whether or not you choose to let them help, the mess will be cleaned, the crumbs eradicated from the earth, forever! thrown into the wastebasket to be thrown away when next the garbage man comes.

And, of course, as with any time that a salty product is consumed (for any good pretzel must have salt), the consumer will grow thirsty.

That said, the pony will grow thirsty from the salt and ask for a glass of water.

Being the gracious host that you are, you will be most happy to give your guest the water that they desire.

You’ll pour the glass from the refrigerator’s built-in water/ice dispenser (as any good refrigerator must have such a device) and put the glass on the table before them.

Well mannered as they are, the pony will thank you for the glass of water.

For the sake of the story, the pony will be an earth pony. That said, as they grasp the glass with their hooves, they will drop it, for hooves ain’t worth shit when it comes to grasping something.

At least not in this story.

The glass will drop, shattering as it hits the ground and sending shards everywhere.

Due to their close proximity to the glass’s point of landing, one or two of the shards will cut into the pony, causing them to yelp.

Worried for your guest, you will make sure that they are all right. They will reassure you that they are fine, that the wounds aren’t all that deep, though a few are drawing a bit of blood.

Like any good host, you’ll rush to your bathroom (or wherever a first-aid kit is located), and grab the box. You’ll bring the box to your injured pony friend and open it to pick out a band…

…What? Where the hell did all the band-aids go?

Did somepony say something about band-aids?

Yes, Pinkie. This first-aid kit was supposed to be full of band-aids and there’s a pony with a few cuts.

Oh, sorry.

It’s okay Pinkie, it’s not your fault or anything, but have you seen any band-aids around?

Heh, funny you should mention that it isn’t my fault…

…Pinkie?

You see, it kinda is my fault…well, no it really is my fault.

What did you do?

Well Gummy and I were playing Raiders of the Lost Ark and we needed stuff for a mummy…

Okay…wait, what? Raiders of the Lost Ark didn’t have any mummies!

Well of course not, silly. But anyways, we ran out of toilet paper for mummy wrappings, so we decided to use band-aids instead!

You used every band-aid that was in this house in order to make a mummy for a movie that doesn’t even have any mummies to begin with after I told you, rather kindly, might I add, to leave?

Yep.

Oh, for Zombie Christ’s sake!

So seeing as somepony used all the band-aids that you have in the house, you’ll need to go to the store to get more.

The pony is still bleeding from the wound and you pack them in your car and drive off…

…and the car won’t start.

Pinkie?

You called?

Why are you covered in grease? Oh wait, let me guess, you were messing around with the car?

Sorry, I didn’t think that you guys’d need it.

Ugh. Look, what did you do and how do we reverse it? There’s somepony who needs a band-aid and you went and used them all. We need to get to the store to get more band-aids, okay?

Oh, well you know that big thing in the front?

The engine by any chance of doom?

Yeah, that thing.

What did you do?

Well Gummy and I had just finished the mummy scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark

There was no mummy scene in that movie.

I know, but anyways, once we were done, we tried to re-enact that one scene from The Mechanic.

And which scene might that have been?

The one where he works on that one old lady’s car.

Pinkie.

That’s me!

The Mechanic was about a hitman, not an actual mechanic!

I know.

Ugh!

So seeing as your car is broken down, you’ll just have to ask a neighbor or something, you can get a larger stash of band-aids later.

So you go next door and ring the doorbell, your pony friend in tow, leaving an occasional drop of blood as they go.

Your neighbor opens the door, giving a friendly ‘Hi,’ as good neighbors do. You explain your situation and…

…Why the hell did they just slam the door in your face?

Maybe it was the talking pony part?

What? Well that’s not fair! No one ever freaked out when you gave a Mouse a Cookie or…a Moose a Muffin or anything! What the hell’s so damn different about a freaking pony!?

Look, there’s a convenience store down a few blocks. Assuming that your neighbors won’t be of any help, you head there in hopes of finding a bandage, pony friend in tow.

You and your pony friend enter the store, but the clerk quickly yells at you about animals not being allowed inside the store, hygiene and cleanliness and all that other crap.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you just let the pony wait outside while you buy a pack of band-aids with…

…and you forgot your wallet. Great.

You head home, grab the wallet, and head back to the stupid store to get the stupid band-aid, finding yourself getting rather sick of all this crap.

The cashier tears the receipt from the machine and hands it to you as your pony friend waits outside again. The bleeding has slowed down a bit, but there’s still the occasional drip and the glass shards are still in there, seeing as you aren’t supposed to remove a penetrating object until you’ve got a way to stop any bleeding.

Turning…

“Everyone get the fuck down! This is a robbery!”

Oh for the love of your deity!

The three musketeers enter the store, armed with shotguns. One of them thrusts his weapon in your face, yelling again for you to get down.

Eyes crossed at the weapon pointed square between your eyes, you do as he says, gulping in fear for your life.

“Empty the cash register, mother fucker!”

Geez, such language.

The cashier frantically opens up the register, shotgun in his face as he quickly hands over the cash into a bag so generously provided by one of the fiends.

A woman near the line of refrigeration shelves lining the back wall screams as the third man grabs her purse, yanking it from her grasp.

“Hand over the wallet, shithead!”

You quickly oblige, the ten or so bucks in your wallet not worth your life.

The man grins an ugly smile and turns to leave…wait, what’s that sound?

There’s an explosion of glass as your car smashes through the front of the store, hitting all three badguys at once and sending them sprawling across the floor.

Oh, so that one’s the one that makes the car stop! My bad.

Pinkie? What? But I thought that you pulled the engine…

Yepperooni, I did. But then me and gummy finished the scene and put it back in! Good as new!

As this takes place, you grab back your wallet from the clutches of one of the fiends, flinching back as he moans something about his mother.

Sirens blare and the cops arrive, clearing out the area and handcuffing the somehow-still-alive-even-after-they-got-hit-by-a-car-travelling-at-Talos-knows-how-many-miles-per-second badguys. Phew, that was a mouthful.

The cops get statements from everyone, making sure that everyone’s all right. Hell, they even fix up the wound that your pony friend had, making them good as new and thankfully not questioning the fact that two ponies (one of which was driving a car with a toothless alligator riding shotgun) are there.

The convenience store has insurance and the badguys are on their way to prison, hell, your car’s even in perfect condition despite the fact that it was just driven through a freaking convenience store.

You’re welcome.

So you drive home, pony friend sitting shotgun with Pinkie and Gummy riding in the back.

Hey, you wanna hear the most annoying sound in the…

‘NO!’ everyone in the car, besides Pinkie and Gummy yell in unison.

Aww.

That crisis settled, the cool hair blowing in your wind (because the car’s a convertible) and nowhere to go but forwards, you ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after.

And then the world explodes.

The end.