Homeless Hombres Hit Harder
"Spike, how many times do I have to tell you? Alphabetization by size is just as important as regular alphabetization!" Twilight Sparkle complained, helping her number one assistant to 'properly' reorganize books.
"And you're out of your mind," Spike grumbled, frowning at the extra work he'd been given for the morning.
"What was that?" Twilight asked, turning her head up at him as he perched precariously atop the ladder, carefully rearranging the heavy, freshly dusted bound books according to her specifications.
"I said, a trout an hour, fine," he lied quickly, serpentine tongue darting out from between his lips nervously.
"Oh, okay." Twilight agreed with a nod, evidently distracted. Spike pondered for a moment, placing the last of the books on the shelves. "So, uh... you gonna tell me what's up, or what?" he asked, prodding her in the side to pull her out of her daze.
"Hm? Oh, Pinkie Pie's coming over, and I'm planning on studying her for the morning." Spike, who had been intent on leaving, narrowed his eyes and slowly closed the door. With a massive grin, he patiently sat down in the main room, where his smile only grew larger.
"... What?"
"And I thought you learned your lesson the last time, Twilight."
"And how is that funny?" She inquired a little huffily.
"Twi, this is Pinkie Pie we're talking about. Pinkie Pie. My dragon senses are tingling all over! Well, actually," he said pensively, putting his chin into his tiny claw. "It's not really dragon senses, so much as it is threeshadowing."
"Foreshadowing," Twilight corrected him in what she hoped was a polite manner.
"Whatever." Spike replied in what he hoped was not a polite manner.
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"Blurg... I don't feel so good," Martin groaned as he crawled out of the wreckage of the once-wonderful diner.
"Well, maybe you'd feel -hic!- better if you didn't always -hic!- try drinking the most. I mean, sherioushly," Gabriel Iglesias slurred as he reclined in the only remaining plastic booth that hadn't been utterly demolished by the rampaging buffalo, which was now munching peacefully on a few blades of grass outside. "Haven't - haven't I shaid shomething -hic!- about butt chugging before? You know -hic!-" Gabriel paused, thinking. “You know, I don’t know. I don’t know, man. You… you know?”
Martin passed out.
“I’ll drink to that!” Fluffy proclaimed, raising an empty glass to the partial ceiling.
… Wait, empty glass. Empty.
He stared at it forlornly, wishing that the glass would magically fill itself with the wonderful liquid meaning of life.
Which, of course, merely lead to a heavy sigh of sadness when it did not.
Gabriel scratched an itch that had begun to form on his side, his bright red and black Hawaiian shirt tickling it slightly. Being incredibly heavy set didn’t help matters much. Plus, it was so much harder to scratch an itch on the same side as the arm you’re trying to use! It was a pain in the rear, trying to scratch evenly and keep the glass raised so that he could-
“Oh, wait. I don’t –hic! – need to do that,” he wondered aloud, and a very small part of his brain reminded him that he tended to be slightly less logically reactive than is usually expected when under the influence of alcohol. Copious amounts of alcohol.
Lots and lots of alcohol.
Gabriel, waiting for his drunken friend to awaken, stared about in search of miracle fluid; or, at the very least, something decent to eat. Peanuts just weren’t very filling.
No, wait… I have –hic! - an idea! He thought to himself as he slowly drew away from the plastic seating, watching as it collapsed behind him.
… That was probably – hic! – the buffalo’s fault.
Two thoughts then occurred to him simultaneously. The first one was slightly less curious than the second one, and he thought them both as he rubbed a hand over his nearly shaven head, feeling the stubbly growth of black hair.
Where did we even – hic! – get a buffalo?
Which was promptly followed by Why am I –hic! – hiccupping inside my head?
Oddly enough, Gabriel found that his hiccups had stopped. And if Martin had been awake to realize it, he’d have discovered that Gabriel found this hilarious.
One could usually tell if Gabriel found something hilarious, most often by the bouts of hysterical, high pitched laughter.
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Gabriel was having a little difficulty pulling himself out of his alcohol haze. He’d tried everything he could think of. He’d tried drinking coffee, he’d tried walking –
Actually, that’s all I could think of, he thought as he strolled awkwardly down the streets of Chicago, friendly people passing him by.
Or, at least, they looked friendly to Gabriel. Everyone looks friendlier when you’re drunk.
“Spare a dollar, mister?” an old man asked feebly, holding out an open palm towards Gabriel. He was elderly; that much was plain by the white hair, mottled skin and yellowed eyes. He must have been drinking, too, because his irises had become unevenly sized and grown puffy and red. A half-empty whiskey bottle lay in one hand, slightly cracked near the bottom.
“Aw, dude. You look worse –hic! – than me, even!” Gabriel exclaimed, staring at him with wide eyes. The suit the poor old man had cobbled together just made him stand out as homeless even more; dashes of yellow, brown and white stood starkly against the brick wall he sat against.
Gabe thought for a moment, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small plastic package, glaring at them in confusion.
Wait, no, that’s the peanuts.
He wriggled his large arm into the pocket on his opposite side, drawing out a couple of twenty dollar bills. The homeless man looked slightly offended that Fluffy hadn’t bothered sharing the peanuts, too.
“Here’y’go, hombre!” Fluffy yelled happily, stuffing the bills into the man’s hands.
“… You’re fine with just giving this to me?” the homeless man asked with much more clarity than he had been speaking with moments before.
“Shure, pal!” Gabe said, shaking his hand. “Alwaysh ready to help shomebody – beshides, I make way more’n that,” he bragged absentmindedly, patting the wallet in his back pocket.
What he had conveniently forgotten to mention was that most of his money had also gone into producing and working on the show, which meant he didn’t necessarily have a lot left. That didn’t stop the homeless man’s yellowed eyes from narrowing dangerously, and a small smile played across his lips. One of his teeth must have been misshapen, because it was much larger than the others. Almost like a fang.
Oh, my God, I’m talking to Hobo-ula! Gabriel thought excitedly, before realizing that alcohol was probably having a much larger effect on him than he had previously anticipated. He’d suddenly become very aware that driving would be a bad idea, and he was momentarily glad he’d walked.
After a couple of awkward moments of Gabriel not realizing that he was still shaking Homeless Hombre’s hand, he eventually stumbled off, presumably to inform Martin that getting drunk was way more costly than it was before he had so many bills.
He barely registered the dull thunk! of glass on flesh as the bottle hit his head, and the ground rushed up to meet him.
Hey, I’ll bet I can make a joke about that!
…
Hic.
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“Nose twerk, left eyebrow jiggle, itchy hoof, craving for pancakes, and twitchy tail!” Pinkie Pie squealed in excitement, bouncing happily around Twilight Sparkle.
“And, what does that mean, precisely?” the violet unicorn asked as she sat at her kitchen table, carefully collecting notes on the logical anomaly that was Pinkie Pie. They’d been at it for nearly an hour now, and Twilight felt that if she didn’t wrap things up quickly, her mind was going to disintegrate just from Pinkie’s presence.
“It means, I want some pancakes! Silly filly,” Pinkie chirruped happily as she bounced, as if she were explaining something to somepony much younger. Twilight sighed, dropping her pencil with a small clatter and pinching the bridge of her nose.
Which was pretty difficult, considering the fact that she could only use her hooves.
“I think it’s time we call it a day, Pinkie Pie.”
“But Twi!” she wailed, stopping mid bounce. Meaning, unfortunately, that she’d also stopped in mid-air.
“… How are you doing that?” Twilight asked, deadpanning. It was like Pinkie had a new surprise, every time she thought she nearly had her figured out.
“You aren’t even gonna ask? Really?” Pinkie looked down at her friend curiously, blowing a lock of bubblegum pink mane out of her way.
“Okay, I’ll play along,” Twilight agreed slowly. “Ask what?”
“Nose twerk, left eyebrow jiggle, itchy hoof, craving for pancakes, and twitchy tail!” Pinkie repeated, annoyed. “I thought you were taking notes!”
Twilight sighed. It seemed it was happening to her more often these days.
Maybe, just maybe, someday I’ll learn to stop trying to figure out how Pinkie Pie works.
“I was taking notes, Pinkie.” Twilight said flatly, eyeing a rather bulky collection of scrolls in the corner that had slowly grown over the last hour, right through lunch.
“If you were taking good notes,” Pinkie said, dropping out of the air and planting her hoof between Twilight’s eyes, “you’d know that particular Pinkie-Combo means that there’s a very special somepony on the way that we haven’t met yet!”
“… Really?” Twilight asked as her eyes widened ever so slightly. Her curiosity had been piqued a bit by that.
“Yuppie duppie guppie! Also, you’re out of pancake batter. You should use regular cake batter – ooh! I know! We can throw a big ‘Welcome to-‘ uhh… ehermm…” Pinkie slowly began stepping away from her friend, watching the ceiling anxiously.
“… What now, Pinkie?” Twilight asked, picking up her pencil. She wanted to be absolutely prepared for whatever development could potentially occur, no matter how out of place or strange. Twilight had spent plenty of time around Pinkie Pie; she'd grown to expect the unexpected.
“… Twitcha-twitch.”
And that’s when three hundred and fifty pounds of hot and fluffy violently penetrated Twilight Sparkle’s roof, landing directly on top of her.
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Author's Note
Yes, I am doing this.
God help us.
You know the drill, folks; whether you like it or not, let everybody else know in the comments section below!
Because, uh, seriously. Those comments and Likes go a long ways. Thanks for reading!
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“Whurgh…” Gabriel groaned. “Never again.” He slowly pushed himself up on his forearms and clutched his head in agony.
“Second worst. Hangover. Eve-“ Gabriel stopped, eyes wide. He carefully waved a hand in front of his own face, staring at it. “… Whoa. Weird. I got drunk to make Fluffy: Animated. Now I get drunk, and I am Fluffy: Animated!” He sat up gingerly, discovering the splintered remains of a table beneath him. It was then that he heard the voice.
“Ohmigoshareyouokaydidyoufallthroughtheroofohwellwaitofcourseyoudid’causeotherwisethatwouldn’thavehappenedyouprobablywouldhavejustusedthefrontdoorbutanywaydon’tworryaboutthathimyname’sPinkiePie-“ the tiny pink prancing pony gasped for oxygen, and Gabriel cut her off.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he said, pushing her away. “I said drunk, not tripping. How hard did that homeless dude hit me?” he asked, tenderly rubbing the back of his head.
“Furfpf ffmph frrmple fmph.”
“What?”
Pinkie deadpanned, pointing to the tuft of violet mane beneath him, the only proof that Twilight Sparkle still lived.
“OH, CRAP, I KILLED IT!” Gabriel shrieked in a high pitched voice, leaping up from the ground with much more dexterity than a man of his particular girth would be expected to possess. “Are you okay, little pony? Little pony?” he peered around quizzically, finding nopony beneath him. “Where’d you go, amigo?”
Pinkie Pie stuffed her hoof in her mouth, desperately trying not to giggle at her friend, who had become quite stuck to the underside of the ~~oversized~~ fluffy comedian. She moaned, dropping off of him with a small pop! and rolled over.
“… Well, on the bright side, I think I can safely say that I have never had anything hairy and purple fly out of my rear before.” Gabriel said, helping the nearly crushed unbalanced unicorn to her feet. “Name’s Gabriel Iglesias! Most people call me ‘Fluffy’,” he said, shaking her hoof warmly.
“… You seem to be in an awfully good mood, for having very nearly killed somepony.” Twilight stated flatly.
“Oh, I’m gonna wake up any second now,” he waved her off reassuringly. “I’m probably high as balls right now. That, or hallucinating.”
“Ah, I see,” Twilight said, trying to straighten her now-very-flat mane. “denial is generally the first stage of-“
“Cake?”
“-cake, and th- no, that’s not what I was talking ab-“
“No, cake!” Gabriel shouted, pointing in shock. Normally, Gabriel was much more overjoyed to see cake. However, he was particularly stunned to see Pinkie Pie juggling seventeen of them. And, somehow, still managed to find time to rub her stomach a couple times and say “Chocolate cake!”
“…What? How - But that's... Where did you even…?” Twilight began, ogling her friend. “… Actually, you know what? I don’t want to know.” She began ripping up her notes telekinetically, throwing them in a waste bin. “Any time I ever try to figure out how you work, the universe breaks a little.”
“Forget the universe, she’s juggling cake!”
“I know, want one?” Pinkie yelled happily to him, punching one out of the air with surprising grace without dropping the other sixteen.
The cake hit the wall with a loud (and very messy) splat, leaving both Twilight and Gabriel lightly coated in chocolate frosting.
“… Hmm. Not bad.” Gabriel said, running a finger through the frosting atop Twilight Sparkle’s head and tasting it. “Needs a little more sugar.”
Twilight sighed heavily, and her horn glowed brightly for a moment. The cakes promptly stopped flying around in a potentially mess-inducing loop, and gently began lowering themselves to the floor.
“Ooh, ooh! I know this one!” Pinkie bounced excitedly, whipping a pair of sunglasses from somewhere behind her and slapping them onto her face. “Bullet-Time! Who-tcha!” and with that, the pink pony promptly pummeled every single cake out of the air, punching haphazardly in every direction.
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“Look, all I’m sayin’ is that if Twi’s gonna do somethin’ dangerous, like tryin’ ter figure out how Pinkie Pie works, then y’all shoulda warned the poor girl, or somethin’.” Applejack said conversationally to Rainbow Dash as they approached the library.
“Oh, ‘cmon, AJ. You know what she’s like when she has her sights set on something. You think I didn’t try? Besides, you remember ‘The Deadpool Incident’-“
“Ah don’t even wanna talk about it,” Applejack cut her off, eyes narrowing to pinpricks.
“Yeah, me neither.” Rainbow Dash agreed, ruffling her wings uncomfortably. “Oh, sweet Celestia, the pudding…!”
Applejack’s face flushed at the remark. Rarity’s parents still refused to look her in the eye. She did her best to brush off the unpleasant memory as she opened the library door for her Pegasus companion.
“Darlin’, ah think the bes-“
Applejack never got the chance to finish her sentence, as around fourteen or fifteen large, decorated chocolate cakes flew at high speeds through the doorway, each of them leaving slightly shimmering waves behind them before they vanished.
And Applejack was battered with every single one of them.
“The horror – the horror!” a male’s voice cried out from inside, and a large, hairless and slightly tanned ape in a bright flowery shirt came bounding out the door. “Pinkie, how could you? Wasting perfectly good cake for… for slapstick?!”
“Yeah, but it was slapstick with a cheesy reference!” Pinkie exclaimed, bouncing out the door behind him. “That makes it better.”
“No, it does not make – well, maybe a little.” Gabriel agreed nonchalantly. “Oh, hey. More hallucinations. Hi, talking ponies!” he waved, giving Rainbow Dash and the quite unconscious Applejack a hearty grin.
“BUCK ME WITH A SHOVEL, YOU’RE GINORMOUS!”
“No, I’m Fluffy.” He said jovially, extending a hand.
Rainbow Dash shortly joined her blonde friend in sweet unconsciousness.
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“Whee! Go faster!” Pinkie Pie squealed in glee, clamped tightly to Gabriel’s shoulder as he walked sullenly through Ponyville.
“I have been going faster,” he grumbled. “plus, you’re heavy.”
“You don’t find that slightly ironic?”
“I find it ironic that a horse is riding me.”
“I’m a pony!”
“Fine, then; you do the carrying!”
Pinkie Pie gasped, as if offended. “And use up all that energy I’ve been saving for making cupcakes? Never!”
Gabriel had grown slightly grumpy over the last hour or so – it was hard enough discovering that he still wasn’t waking up, not to mention the fact that Pinkie insisted on sitting atop his shoulder as she directed him around Ponyville, talking to absolutely every single inhabitant they passed.
Besides, he still hadn’t had breakfast yet.
“You said we were going to have cupcakes an hour ago!”
“Well, we have to make them first; silly filly.” She pointed it out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The pair passed a couple of salesponies making their wages at carts, selling vegetables and delectables. One very run down building in between a couple of bland looking shops had a broken wooden sign out front, labeled The 8-Bits. They passed it and rounded a corner, and Pinkie jammed her hoof as far as she could out in front of her.
“There it is – Sugarcube Corner!”
“And that’s where we’re making the cakes?” Gabriel asked quizzically.
“No, dumpy-frumpy! That’s where we’re making the cupcakes; the cakes are already done. We can eat those as soon as we get th- whoa!” Pinkie Pie had no idea the human could move that fast, as he certainly didn’t look like he could. They closed the distance between themselves and the brightly colored shop so quickly one could have sworn the earth was scorched in the places they passed.
And were Rainbow Dash conscious, she probably would have objected that anything could move faster than she could.
Then again, Pinkie Pie was involved.
“Best. Friend. Ever!” Gabriel shrieked, squeezing Pinkie in his arms happily as he burst through the door to Sugarcube Corner.
“I. Can’t. Breath!” Pinkie gasped, freeing herself from the man’s grasp. “Ooh, maybe vanilla and pineapple first? Or, or maybe gumdrop pumpernickel and - … what are you doing?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing?” he replied as he hefted up a rather delicious looking chocolate cake from behind the glass display.
“Did you pay for that?” Pinkie Pie asked, narrowing her eyes dangerously.
“Oh, uh… Lemme get my wallet.” Gabriel said sheepishly as he sat the cake on the counter and reached into his back pocket. After a couple of moments of mild confusion, he came to an unsettling conclusion.
“… That homeless bastard stole my wallet!”
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"Yar! And I'll swab the deck with me mateys! Tain't no pirate meaner'n Fluffybeard!" Gabriel growled, standing atop the counter and threatening the pink pony with an inflated balloon.
"Yar! Nopony mocks Sugarpatch, the fiercest pink pirate to ever plunder ponykind!" Pinkie responded menacingly, clapping one hoof over her eye as she giggled, flinging another blue frosting coated cupcake at the human.
Mr. Cake chose the worst possible time to step in through the door, dropping a tray of freshly baked goods to the floor with a clatter. "What in the wo-?" he froze when he saw the... er-hem... excessively abundant comedian perched atop his counter. He merely gaped at Gabriel in surprise, who had strapped a loaf of bread to one leg in order to better imitate a pirate's peg.
"... Yar?"
For the third time that day, Gabriel watched a pony lose consciousness.
".... Well, buck me with a shovel."
"I think you mean, 'Shiver me timbers!" Pinkie corrected him.
"That, too."
Author's Note
I originally hadn't planned to write more than a single chapter.
Then again, after the ENORMOUS response it received, it seemed a little unfair not to.
Also, I would just like to state that Gabriel Iglesias is one of the best comedians I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. An all around cool guy with a big heart (pun not intended).
Finally, I sincerely doubt any of my stories would get even HALF the number of views they normally would, were Fluffy's face not the story cover. Seriously; now that you're finished with this chapter, go find something Fluffy related. I'm almost POSITIVE some wonderful fan of both Iglesias and ponies will have it posted in the comments section below.
I'm also working on a much larger project, the first in a trilogy if you have the time to read it. You can find it below!
I Hate You All!
