CookiesView OnlineCookiesCookiesCookie Jam was a special little pony. She was special, because her cutie mark was a cookie. And moreover, it could be clicked. And then a little sound would play, and a cookie would appear. This made Cookie Jam very annoyed. When she was little, this was quite cool. She had infinite cookies, wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted. All the fillies wanted to be friends with her, and all the colts wanted to ‘tap dat cutie mark’. But when she grew older, this became an inconvenience. Every time she brushed against a tree, or a wall, or a chair, or a another pony, a cookie’d appear, and bounce off her head. Nobody wanted to eat the cookies that had fallen onto the ground, so they went to waste. They would hit other ponies, annoying them. And if a pony tapped her cutie mark, they grew addicted, tapping more and more and more. So more cookies appeared. And she was followed around by several stallions (and mares) with a strange hunger in their eyes, their hooves aiming at her plot. Soon, she had too many cookies to count. Her house became nothing but a glorified cookie storage spot. Her bed was overrun with cookies, her bathroom was constantly flooded with cookies as water ran down her mark, and her meals consisted almost entirely of cookies. She was rather sick of this life. One day, she had enough. She would see somepony about it. She went to the doctor. Careful not to let anypony touch her, she trotted determinedly over to the hospital. Pushing open the double doors, she went inside. The doors brushed against her mark, causing a cookie to bounce off her head. She groaned. Walking over to the reception, she filled in some personal information, and was waved in by the doctor. “So, what seems to be the problem? Are you sick? Broken bones?” He asked, gesturing at a seat for Cookie to sit in. Carefully, she manoeuvred herself into the seat. Her rear touched the cushioning, and a cookie bounced off her head. She groaned. “This is the problem, doc. Every time something brushes against my cutie mark, a cookie appears. See?” She tapped her cutie mark. A cookie appeared, which she caught deftly with her tongue, munching on it with a vengeance. “Is this supposed to happen?” “Well, I’ve never seen anything like it.” The doc scratched his head thoughtfully. “Interactive cutie marks, eh? I’ve never seen a case like this before. Hang on, I’ll get the nurses to check the files. Just wait a moment.” He trotted out of the room, calling for a nurse. Cookie recognised one of the nurses following him as Nurse Red Heart. She had been college roommates with Cookie, and was regularly supplied with cookies. They returned shortly, carrying a few dusty tomes in their mouths. Depositing them on the doctor’s table, the nurses left them alone. “So.” The doctor said, flipping through one of the tomes. “There has been exactly one other case of interactive cutie marks. A pony, by the name of Beta Cookie. Do you know of her?” “She’s my pre-Celestial Monarchy ancestor, I think.” Cookie said, staring at the records. “Huh. How do you have information from that far back?” The doctor shrugged. “Equestria has always had excellent healthcare. Especially after the CC (CelestiaCare). But the point is, according to this record, touching different parts of her body would increase the production of cookies, at the cost of the reduction of existing cookies. For example. Pony contact on her left foreleg would make a cookie appear every ten seconds, at the cost of fifteen cookies in the beginning, scaling with every touch.” Cookie stared apprehensively at her left hoof. Then, by an involuntary jerk, it brushed against her mane. The effect was instantaneous. A cookie dropped onto Cookie’s lap. Ten seconds later, another cookie appeared, prompting Cookie to swear profusely. “I didn’t ask for this! I don’t need more cookies!” She slammed her hooves down on the table. Ten seconds later, two cookies appeared. “MOTHER BUCKING DAMN IT!” “Calm down, now…” The doctor placed a hoof on her shoulder. Big mistake. Three cookies dropped out of the sky. “Oh… sorry.” “NO! No, no, no, no, NO!” Cookie screamed as cookies rained down on her. In her panic, she slapped herself in multiple places, making even more cookies rain down on her. “BUCK!” “Calm down, Ms. Jam!” The doctor said, frantically, as cookies began to fill up the office. “Stop- touching- YOURSELF!” But Cookie Jam couldn’t hear him. Cookie Jam was no more. She was the cookie. She existed to click and nothing more. “Click… click…” She muttered, tapping her hind leg. More cookies poured out from above her. “Wait… what am I doing?!” The cookie faltered, turning back into Cookie Jam. “ACK! NO MORE COOKIES! NO MORE!” “Silence, pony. You exist only to serve the Cookie!” The Cookie hissed, taking over once again. “You serve the Cookie, as Beta Cookie pony did many years ago! NOW CLICK!” Instantly, Cookie Jam’s body began shuddering uncontrollably, quickly depleting the stores of cookies she had accumulated over the years. “Yes… YES… MAKE MORE! MORE!” The Cookie cackled, as torrents of cookies spewed forth from above. “So… many… cookies…” She ran a hoof through the baked goods, her hind legs still tapping rhythmically. “My children…” She cooed, holding up a particularly circular cookie. And then, out of the blue, a golden cookie rolled out of the mix. Cookie’s eyes widened, and she approached tentatively. “The golden cookie has arrived… Soon, cookies will overtake the world!” The Cookie chuckled. Then she turned to the doctor, barely keeping afloat in the large sea of cookies. “Ah. Pony will serve well as a vessel.” She took the gold cookie and shoved it down the doctor’s gullet. His eyes bugged out, and slowly, his skin dissolved, leaving only dripping, disgusting flesh. “Now, feed.” She commanded, and the golden cookie complied. Slowly, it ate away at the meat of the pony, tinting itself a bloody red. “And you will be the base to reawaken the ancient ones.” She smiled grimly, stowing the now flesh-like cookie in a small medical packet she had picked up. There was a strained groan, and The Cookie looked up. The walls were cracking, unable to take the stress of tons upon tons of cookies pushing against its walls. Dust fell form the ceiling, the spiderweb of cracks spreading rapidly. As soon as this prison was breached, the world would belong to the cookies. And nothing would stop them. Not the ponies, not the silly princesses, not even that foolish Discord fellow. Nothing could stand in the way of the cookies. As the cookie pile grew to epic proportions, the walls failed and the building collapsed, the cookies converting the debris into more of the baked goods. Rising up in a mountain of cookies, The Cookie overlooked the village of Ponyville with malice. “Ready or not, ponies, here I come…”
GrandmatriarchsView OnlineCookiesGrandmatriarchsThe Cookie was pleased. The little pony village had little to give in terms of efficient resources, but the life force of the ponies were empowering. She relished in the sensation of ponies being eaten inside out by countless carnivorous cookies, their life energies fleeing their bodies and creating more fleshy cookies that The Cookie could use to summon the ancients. The going was good. The ponies were eaten one by one. Cookies poured out from above, filling the streets. Ponies ran from the growing mass of cookies. The six little ponies with their elements appeared. Oh, the elements. What a hoot. For puny mortal ponies, they did put up quite a fight. Their little rainbow was almost enough to destroy a cookie, too. But the harmonious energy was inducted into the cookie pile, and the ponies were forced to fled, but not before the cookies claimed their little necklaces. They contained lots of high efficiency fuel. “Run, little ponies!” The Cookie giggled, sending a tendril to capture another pony as a golden cookie appeared. “Run for your petty little lives!” The cookies had nearly consumed matter all the way to the core of the planet. The cookies would absorb dirt, stone, and mineral alike, dissolving anything in their paths. The temperature was getting toasty. It would take some time to hollow out the planet. Meanwhile, the aboveground expansion was doing well. This so called ‘Ponyville’ was completely gone, replaced by an endless sea of cookies. The tide of brown was now surging towards the princess city. Canterlot, The Cookie thought, recalling the memories of Cookie Jam. “Celestia…” The Cookie whispered. Focusing her cookie energies, she split her shoulder muscles, making large bat-like wings, peppered with chocolate, spout from her back. A crooked, chocolate-chip coated horn grew from her forehead. “Family reunion…” The cookie alicorn grinned savagely. The distant mountain of Canterlot crumbled, converting into cookies. There was a flash of gold and blue, as the falling mountain was righted, probably by the two pretty little pony princesses. She despised those two. As much as she hated to admit it, they were notified far too early, so that they were currently at about equal power as The Cookie herself. There was a massive explosion, and the cookies swelled to contain the blast. “Ah, Celestia. Luna. Nice to see you again.” The Cookie said, smiling sweetly at the two alicorns streaking towards her. They responded by two beams of pure energy, burning holes through the cookie mound. “Oh, you did not just do that.” She narrowed her eyes. “Cookie Fiend! Stop this madness!” Celestia shouted in her own brand of the royal Canterlot voice. “You need to stop!” Luna was much less word, simply blasting the cookies again. “BE PREPARED TO MEET THY MAKER!” She yelled, pushing back the cookies. Blue lasers flew and seared through cookie pile after cookie pile - but not fast enough, as more cookies poured from above The Cookie. “Cute.” The Cookie smirked, before a surge of cookies engulfed the blue alicorn and dragged her down. “But no.” “LUNA!” Celestia screamed, golden light flooding from her horn. “YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT!” She began launching blast after blast of gold fire into the cookies, barely making a dent but too enraged to notice. Suddenly, a pink bubble appeared around her, pulling back the solar princess. “Celestia!” Discord materialised beside her. “CALM!” He fought to hold back the incensed alicorn, before snapping his fingers and teleporting away, bubble and all. The Cookie watches on, slightly disappointed. If she could have nabbed Celestia and Discord as well, her powers would be unrivalled, even by the First Mother. But she smiled thinly when she saw the blue alicorn gagging in cookies. “Hush now quiet now it’s time to lay your sleepy head…” The Cookie began to dissolve Luna, singing softly all the way. “Hush now quiet now it’s time to go to bed…” Luna screamed painfully as her limbs melted away, converted to cookies. The Cookie quickly grabbed the fleshy cookies, and forced-fed Luna one of them. Luna began shuddering and convulsing. There was an awful crack, and the blue alicorn literally flipped inside out, her organs hanging free. Cookies surged up, bolstering her new body. As the baked goods merged into the flesh of the alicorn, the red meat bubbled and fizzed, turning into a slimy goop. Within moments, the familiar princess of the night was gone. In her place, a disgusting pile of flesh in the vague shape of an alicorn. “We are one. We are many.” The creature intoned in her unique, multilayered voice. It turned a bloody red orb of an eye to stare at The Cookie. “We are the Grandmatriarchs. And We hunger.” The Cookie smiled inwardly, but bowed respectfully. “Welcome back to the Feeding Grounds, Ancient Ones. I trust you find this bounty pleasant?” She gestured at the massive pastures of cookies, still expanding and consuming matter. “Cookie.” The Grandmatriarch said, its mockery of a mouth twisting into a jagged smile. “We have longed for your company. We thank you for waking Us.” It reached down with a bloody hoof, touching the cookies. Instantly, they began to turn red and fleshy, the phenomenon spreading throughout the cookies. “Together, We will engulf the world with a red tide.” The Cookie laughed, watching as the sea of cookies slowly turned red. With the revival of her trusted allies, supremacy was assured. Using but a fraction of her newly gained power, she smothered Canterlot under a blanket of cookies. Surely Celestia and Discord would come to her, and then she could use them to release more Grandmatriarchs. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” She cackled madly. The Grandmatriarch looked excited as well, finally able to return the ‘favour’ Celestia had given it so many years ago, when she and her silly sister banished the Ancients before they grew strong enough. But this time, they were ready. They could take down the two demigoddesses, as well as the little jester of a spirit. “Come out indeed, little pony!” The cookies were fought against. Of course they were. Celestia and Discord, using what power they had remaining, were fight back against the now bloody red masses. But in the end, it was too late, as the two powerful beings were overwhelmed by the numberless waves of flesh cookies. They were brought before The Cookie and the Grandmatriarch, held in place by cookies of steel. “Eat up.” The Cookie sneered, forcing the special flesh cookies she prepared earlier into the throats of both Celestia and Discord. Like Luna, they screamed in agony, the cookies absorbing their essence. And then they were gone. Three thousand years of memories, extinguished in a single moment. They flipped inside out, using the cookies to form their new bodies. The Ex-Celestia Grandmatriarch, which looked like the Ex-Luna Grandmatriarch, opened its bloodshot eyes. “We fuse. We merge. We grow.” It said. “Today is the beginning of the age of red.” The one that Discord turned into, however, retained Discord’s vaguely serpentine form. “Squirm, crawl, slither, writhe. Today - We rise.” It said, in a guttural, more masculine voice. “We have returned, mortals.” The Grandmatriarchs laughed, as the land was stained red by cookies.
Heavenly CookiesView OnlineCookiesHeavenly CookiesT͝he̸r̡é w͠a̸s̛ not͠h̢ing.̧ Wor͟ld̕s ha͡v̀e̡ ̸f͢all͢éǹ,̀ tur͞nȩd into s͜eàs͝ ͟of҉ red. E̕nt̨ir͏e ͡s̢ta̶r̸s,̨ co̶n͡ve̵rted ͟to̷ ͡c̛o҉oki͜e f̧act͠o̢r̕i͟es̷,͘ c̢r͠eat̵i͜n҉ģ co̡ǫki͠ęs͝ vią co̶ok̷il̕e͠a͡r fu̡sio̷n. ͠Th̶e ͜u̴n̢iv̢erse ͝w҉a͟s pack̵e̸d́ ̷ful̷l ͠òf̀ ̶c҉o̴oki͝es. T́her̷e ̛ẃàs ̕no̷ ́mo͘re͞ sentìe͟nt ͞l̷i҉fe, ̷or ̶a͜nỳ l͞ife ͢b͏y ́t͟h͠a̡t̕ ̸m̷a̢tte͜r. ̢Th̵er̶e w͠a̶ş ͠on͞l̨y͏ t͞h͝e҉ ̀c̡òokie̴. N̢ot ̛The̡ C̷o͟o̷k͝įȩ. T̵h̴e ̀coo͜k̀ié. ̶Th̛e͘ c̡ól̨lec̡tiv͜e͟ ͟hi̷ve m̛ind. ̧T͢h̕e͟ ̢on̨e ͡a͢n͠d onĺy̛. ̵The̛rȩ w͡a̡s ̴ńo ̕s̸i̷n͘g҉l͝e͘ i͠ntel̕lig̸e̵ńcè.̷ ͝The̶ ͝G̕ran̸dm̸a̵t͜riarc͢hs,͢ ̢ancie͡nt́ a͏s ̧they ͠were, ͝e͜ve̸n͜t́ua͞l͝ly ̵gre͜w ̡m͜a̛d̷ ҉from thé s͢he͠e͘r̢ ̸a͏mou͞nt ̵o̡f͜ ̢in̢f̧o͢r͠mati͟o̡n tḩe ͘m͏ass̛i̶v͘e n̸u͢mbe̸r òf co͝o͡ki҉es͜ ̧gra͜nte͞d͠ them.͝ ͠Th̵ey m̀i̴n̕ds҉ b͠r̶o̵ke̕n,̕ they ̴f̡a͠d̀ed͝ i̧n̡to̵ th̨e̷ ̸et͠h͝er͝. B͝ut̶ th͡e̵ ͘co̷ok͟i̷e͏s̶ p͠èr͞śi͠ste͠d̛. ̷The̢ ͡C̶o͏o͝k͜ie ̕wa̢s ͝una̴ble t͜o contain th͝e p҉o͡we̡r ̷of ͘t͘h̕ȩ ̶c̵ookies ͝b͝e͏y͠ond a cont̷inen̵t ͟o͞r̵ tw͏o҉,͝ ͘a͘n̡d ̡w҉ąs ́i͝n͠duc͠t̸e͠d i͠nto͜ ͡t͢he̶ hive̷ ͘m̡i̸n͘d. But̢ ̢the coo̸kie͘s̀ p҉e̛rsist́ed. Thèy̛ ̷p̛ers̢i̷st̶ȩd̡, con̵sum̶i̸n̷g ̕t̴he e̵nt̛i͜re̴ pl̛a͞ņe͜t҉.͞ ̶B͢ut̷ they͞ ͜w̧e͡r͡e ҉s̀til̸l̨ ́hu҉ng̨r̢y.͠ S͞o̷ th̶e҉y ate͏ ̨th͜e e̵n̨tír͘e solar͠ s͟ys͠t̷èm.̴ Bu̸t they òǹly h̷un͢gere̵d mo̕r͝e.͝ ̧So͟ t̀h͏ey͢ a͝te. A̛n͞d͢ the̸y͢ ͞g͢rew.̴ ̡A͜n̸d ͝t̵hey̵ g͝rew̕ ͜so ̸ĺarg҉e t̕ha̢t t͞hȩ si̶z͡e o͟f the̢ univ͘er͢se͞ ̴b̨e̵c͜a̸me a ͢hi͞ndéran͏c͝e̕ T̡h͟e͝ c̕o̸o̴ki͜e̷s̴ ̕did͞ ͢ǹo͢t ̶li҉k̸e͡ ̕bei͜ng t̕r̀a̸p͜pe̛d͢.̛ ͡T̵he uni̶v͞ers͞e ҉w̨as ̴tóo͢ ̶s̕maĺl͠ ̛t̵o͜ ho̕l҉d th̶e̷ c͞o̷ok̶i͡es͞. They woul͘d̛ ͢expan̛d҉. As̴ ͘t̸h̸e ph̨ysical̸ ̵bo̵und͜s ̛o҉f t͝h̸e ̢univ̴e͡r͝s͜ę ̕wa͜s͘ ̕stret̵ched̡, the c̶ǫo͏kięs ̷felt evér͘ ͜more͘ ͟h͡o̸p͞ef̛u̡l̷. ̸Pe̴r̀h͟aps̀ the̸r̷e ̸was͘ ͝s̷o͝me͘thin͞g ͏beyo͟nd t́h͡e u̡niv͢érs̨e͝. A͏no̵ther ̸pl̡a̢c͢e. A̢no̶t̸hèr̡ ̸f͜e͡e̵ding ̵g͢ro͞un̡d͟.̶ Th͠ey͠ ̴w͞oul͡d g͝o f͏o҉r̢ t͏h̶e b͢r̢eac̛h͞. ̛Th͡ey ̵w͡ou̸ld ͝bre̴ac͝h̴. ͟T͟h̕e҉y ͏b́r̷eac͡hed͡. ҉The͟ ͞un͞i̶vèr̕se͢ ̸wa̷s̨ b̵r͏oke̷n, ҉sh̴a͞t̡t͠er҉ed̸ i͜n͢to ̶a͡ m̵illio̧n҉ ̧p̶i̧e̵c͠ȩş. ̢A̕nd be̕y̵ond̕…̷ Wás̢ co̵ok̨i͠eś. ͟A ̕who͘l̡e ͟s͞eà o̵f ̢c͠ook͞ies̢. A ̸ne͟w̧ hi̶v̢e̡ ̧mi͞n͢d̢ ͏ţo c҉ombi͘ne w̸ith.́ T̵he̕y were̢ ̨the ̧ḩea҉veǹl̴y̸ ͘c͠ook͡íe̶s.̷ ̕W̡i͞ţh̶ a ͝star͜t͞,͜ ͠t̷he po͠ny ̴c͢o͢oki͢e̸ real̀i͝sed̶ ̨t͡h̨at t̛h̕e̸r̢e͞ ̕w͝ąs ҉not̷h̨in̕g̕ l͜e̢f͜t͘. Their ̸ẃo͘r͏ld̡ w̸a̴s t̴h́e҉ las͞t,͟ an҉d t́hey ̛c̷on̵sume̸d̕ ̀it̶. Th͢e̶re ẃere͢ ҉only c̷oo͢kie̕s.̕ ͞N̸oth͜ing ̀but̶ ͞cooki͏e̛s. ҉ ̸A ̛wo͜r͢ld͢ of̀ coo̴ki͡es͜ ̡a͟nd̸ ̴n̛o҉thin͘g͢ ͟el̀s̛e. ̢The ̨p͟o̶n̢y ͜coo̷kięs joi͏n̸ed into t̢h͘e ͏i̸nf͢i̛ni̕tȩ ̕d̴a̴nc͢e of ҉hèa͡venly ̛cooḱìes͢.̨ ̶Fo͞r͡eve̷r̀.