The Greatest Story Ever Told
My Little (every)Pony
by
Davidism
Edited by: CootTheScoot, PinkerLick, The_Sinister_Minister; and overseen by the Assembly of Bronies for the Creation of Dedicated Excellence (A.B.C.D.E.).
Don't Panic... This is just a parody!
~* * * * *~
I am a brony... my name is Conan Aristotle Merlin Hannibal Gaston XVII. My parents died just last year for the second time. It was right after I came back from the war; I killed so many people for nothing, that I felt really down and bad about it, and then I got a call from someone telling me that my parents were dead. So there was that, and then there was my depression, on top of everything else.
I remember thinking that I wanted to kill myself. Maybe I could go to heaven and be with the ponies, but that was not real, God was a joke, and he wasn't real because I knew. So even if I died and there were ponies, they wouldn't be in heaven; they would be somewhere else. Probably in Equestria.
You are probly wanting to know about my parents dying, so I will tell you that before they died the second time, they were very smart people. They had diplomas and degrees, and they were always reading. They wanted me to be a real contribution to society, maybe going to work for NASA or being a rocket scientist; or something. I told them that I wanted a real job that made real money; I wanted to run a website dedicated to My Little Pony.
After all Sethisto could do it, why couldn't I, right? And he is like the second smartest person I know, besides MandoPony; the one of us that actually made it!
My parents died the 1st time because of an accident to do with their time travel experiments. In fact it's pretty much the same every time. They invented time travel. They went into the future to explore, and then died, and because of them tampering with the fabric of the space time continuum, they're alternate universe selves came to finish raising me, and then they died in a fire at the Waffle Hut. Dad always liked getting there during the lunch rush.
Before my parents died, they told me that if for any reason they ever died to go to their vault they kept at the bank. It wasn't the banks vault, it was my parent's vault. The bank had their own. And because the economy is doing okay, my parents felt safe keeping their safe in the bank.
The bank tellers were all know me, I was a war hero after all. I was in the papers, on the cover of TIME magazine, and once I was even interviewed by The Onion News Network. I didn't want my celebrityness. I didn't want to know that I was famous because I killed three hundred and forty-nine Taliban soldiers, and singlhandedly saving an entire platoon of British SAS soldiers while they were saving a group of S.E.A.L.s. I was too modest to take all that credit. Because I was guilty and I felt like shit. Because war... war never changes.
In the vault was my parents time travel device. There was also a note from my dad; he said that he wanted me to have the time travel device, that if I wouldn't be a rocket scientist, then maybe I could be a time lord instead, apparently they were taking applications for a possible 13th Doctor; and with my war record, and all the medals I had, I was a shoe-in.
I cried and cried. I wanted to follow in their footsteps, I really did. But how could I fulfil that destiny if I wanted to die myself and go to Pony Heaven. I probably could have used the device to bridge a gap between reality of earth and Equestria; but I was too upset over my parents deaths to even think about it. Instead I threw it in the dumpster behind the bank, and turned to walk back to my house.
That's when I saw it. That's when I saw them... there behind the dumpster right next to a half torn wallscroll of Barack Obama, was a huge box filled with colorful ponies. And not just any ponies; all of the main six w/Luna, and Vinyls Scratch, and Derpy, and Lyra and Gilda and Trixie.
I couldn't believe my eyes, everything I ever could have wanted was right there before my eyes. They were so cute, and adorable, and … … little!
It was like a dream, I cried as I reached my hands in to them, and stroked their warm bodies, and ran my fingers through their manes. Lyra was the first to open her eyes, and she looked at my hands, and then wrapped her arms around my arm, and started rubbing her cheek against me. I hadn't known this kind of happiness since before the war; before my parents died, and before the ending of Season 3.
It wasn't easy getting twelve little ponies back to my luxurious estate that had been willed to me when my rich time traveling parent died; but I somehow managed. All I know is that I arrived full of smiles as I opened the front door and pulled the weighted down box inside.
When I slid it into the living room, I collapsed on the smooth marble floor and panted and heaved. The little ponies were fast asleep, they didn't stir. Except for Lyra who watched me with fascination. She seemed especially focused on my hands, and while I sat there, I reached in to let her look at them.
I was so happy; finally, some force in the universe had bestowed upon me my greatest wish, they had truly made me a heaven of earth. Not that there is a real heaven or anything; you know, atheist an all that. But meh, it's a nice metafour.
I was suddenly scared that these little ponies would freak out if they saw me, if they saw what I had done to them, and that they were now in my house. I wasn't concerned about all the MLP stuff I had scattered from one end of the house to the other; they looked pretty young, sort of like fillies, so I was still safe with regards to that.
I was also aware that no one could ever know about them. I had regular local brony meetups, and and if any of those guys knew that I had these ponies, they would probably kill me and steal their “best pony” for themselves and leave me with Trixie. I couldn't have that; I knew I had to keep them safe.
Getting a blanket, I spread it over the huge ornate sofa, and carefully picked each filly from the box; gently laying her on the sofa. I was very curious about them, since this was like the most wildest dream I ever had, so of course I gave them a complete and thorough examination.
I checked their hooves, I checked their manes, I did have to check that they were anatomically correct; because well, it would have been weird if they never went to the bathroom. Surprisingly, they looked just like a human woman down there, which was odd because horse vaginas are kind of grotesque, and they make me feel queasy. But not these, I took one good look and instantly had a raging hard-on that sent the front of my pants out like a sideways teepee.
I had to fight back humiliation at getting an erection in front of Lyra, but then, like I pointed out, she was probably too young to know what any of it meant. So I was safe for a while.
I stood up and peered down at the twelve little ponies all in a row on the sofa. It was amazing. I felt my heart explode and explode and explode. I wanted to cuddle them all; to cry on their little tiny shoulders. Most of all... I wanted them to grow up. There were so many things we could do.
* * * * *
Turns out, fillies do grow up fast. The show was sort of wrong about that. For three seasons of the show, the cutie mark crusaders were still the same age, but not the fillies I found. Within six months they were already the equivalent of human teenagers; around the age they want to start getting their driver's licenses.
Not only were they talking, but they were all talking back. If it wasn't trouble enough to have all main six ponies, but the alternate six getting into hair pulling contests, going into group sized menstrual cycles at a flat rate, and questioning every thing I told them to do; it was more trouble still having them all sleeping in the same bed as me.
At first when they were little, I would cuddle them, and kiss them and read them stories, and we could all fit in the bed together. Now the super king size bed was puny. Everyone wanted to be the one that slept closest to me; if they didn't then someone would get mad and someone would get their mane bit and pulled, and then I'd have to scold them.
I honestly thought that raising a filly would have been easier than all this. I mean no wonder my parents are dead... if I was just half this much trouble, I'd bet they'd have died a third time. Some how.
I mean, I nearly died of embarrassment the first time I had to go buy tampons for them. And not just one box either. I had to have an entire shopping cart full of them. My coolness points were at an all time low when the cashier asked me if they were for my harem.
And then, just like that. It dawned on me. I had a harem. A whole harem of ponies from MLP! And it wasn't like they wouldn't want to do it, I mean, they were all but begging me to shag them. I'm hip on the uptake, and I knew the signs from the start.
I walked back to the house because my Porsche was in the shop, carrying bags of tampons, and dreaming about my harem.
Well, that was then and this is now. The harem things went over real well. At first. Then it turned into a competition between Trixie and Twilight; if Twilight got “special services” Trixie wanted twice as much. Applejack and Rainbow Dash were always trying to one up one another and using me as the obstacle course.
Of course I can't go fifteen hours, are you crazy!!!!!!
Rarity was a handful from the start, always wanting to wear expensive clothes and suscribing to endless magazines. Derpy is always getting hurt, or breaking things; and when she's not she's obsessed with watching That 70s Show, she's getting picked on because of her bubbles.
Luna is always quiet, never says a lot, and spends all her time up late at night writing poetry for me. It's always mushy crap about the moon, or darkness and being emo.
At times between waiting outside one of the bathrooms of my fifteen room house, nearly pissing my pants, because the girls are in there giggling, styling their manes, and applying products that make their coats shine; I have to ask myself if it was all worth it.
Yeah, it's worth it. I get sweet, sweet pony puss every night, they call me daddy, and they cook and clean. So what if I piss myself every few days?
Like all fantasies, this one was destined to come to an end. I deep down knew that one day it would. Just like my parents lives. Little did we know that at the same time that I had found a box of orphaned ponies, around the world in China, a box of changelings had been found. They were raised to hate Americans, and after just a year were used as a part of some sort of anti-American extremist act to wage war.
All of North America was ravaged. The economy was ruined. Gas prices rose three dollars, and the people that were left alive couldn't afford to go to work anymore.
I was never a coward. I killed all those thousands of Taliban in the war because I believed! And even though I swore to never use my mastery of the art of warfare against another human being again, I couldn't sit by and watch as the war grew closer to my home, and closer to my ponies. I had to keep them safe.
Using the power of friendship, we launched insurgent strikes at the enemy. We ferreted out the changelings and put an end to their reign of terror. But the cost was a high one. It cost me everything.
In one last attempt to bring me and my Colorful Dozen to an end, they lanched one last assault, and when they dropped the nuke on my house, it was all over.
All the ponies were killed, I was killed, and the whole world fell to the terror of Queen Chrysalis and the Changeling blight. My Porsche was still in the shop, so it was at least spared; but I would never again get to hear it's sweet engine racing, or remember all the times I nearly scored because of it.
Death though wasn't the end. I found myself walking along the long tunnel filled with white light. I knew it wasn't going to heaven, because like I have to keep reminding you; I am an atheist. There is no God, because... well. Ponies!
I was proved right. When I arrived on the other side after arriving, I found myslef standing on the shores of some small lake, and directly in front of me was Ponyville. My only one true heaven.
All my pony friends were there, and I was somehow magically changed. I no longer stood on two legs; I stood on four legs. I had wings, and when I looked into the water, I saw that I was now a jet black alicorn stallion! I was hot!
The ponies and I embraced and cried, and we kissed. We were very happy. Then it happened. Princess Celestia appeared, and said, “You are the only person to ever arrive here that is a true equal. For surely you are great and powerful because of your mighty deeds in your past life.'
before I could tell her that I was just a simple soldier that died horribly in a freak Changeling war against Americans, she shocked me and everyone else there. She bowed to the ground and knocked her crown from her head.
We were married a few days later, and I was declared to be the King of all of Equestria. I got to keep my harem of ponies, and in a short time, I had a child of my own with Celestia. We named her Margaret, after my mother... who lived a great life, then died, twice.
After three thousand years, Celestia and I ascended to the stars. Our immortalized statues tower over the vast empire we built together. My countless children from all the mane six eventually settled a whole new country somewhere and called it Bronyville in honor of me. The capital was called Sethistopolis.
I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would be a war hero, a lover of ponies, a real lover of ponies, a martyr then a king and finally a god. But I know that if my parents were still alive, they would be proud of me.
* * * * *
Les Driscol sat at the long convention table with his bottom lip slightly quivering. Wet lines marked his cheeks, and the nine pages of his story jittered in his trembling hands. It was without a doubt, his greatest masterpiece.
The huge crowd of bronies that were at the 2014 BronyCon were enraptured, silent, and pensive. He knew that he had touched them.
Next to him, Knighty and Obs were holding their hands to their faces; their heads bobbed with small jerks and their chests were heaving almost uncontrollably. He had touched them too. They were being racked with sobs, the brilliance of the piece was too much for them.
With a dryness to his voice, Les spoke into the microphone at the fan fiction segment, and concluded his reading. “That's the story. I hope you liked it. It was a dream I had to be here, and to read this for you all. Thanks.”
He was too honored, there were no more words.
Then from the back of the group of faithful bronies, a single hand was raised. Les watched as a lone brony stood to his feet. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled with the force of a thousand lunar moons exploding across the galaxy.
“You suck!”
Author's Note
If you've managed to get through this godawful story, then I applaud you. This was as painful for me to write, as it is no doubt painful for you to read.
It was created as a bit of silliness to poke fun at the rampant cliches that constantly get passed onto us, and while I can't say that I didn't take some small satisfaction in making a mockery of some of them, I was nevertheless saddened more often than not.
Please do not vote this story down because you are offended. Vote it down because it's truly garbage. If it offends, or steps on your toes; then perhaps there is something to that then, eh?
To all first time writers that read this; you should use this story as an example of everything "NOT" to do. This is a bad story, and you should feel bad for wanting to write anything like it.
