Twilight Sparkle Gets a Pimple on Her Ass

Chapters

Step One: Embarrassment
Step Two: Two-Step
Step Three: Even Worse
Step Four: Milk Maids

Step One: Embarrassment

It started out like most catastrophes: quietly, unnoticed, like a jungle cat stalking its prey in the tall grass. Today, that prey was a young purple unicorn named Twilight Sparkle. The jungle cat was a pimple. The tall grass was Twilight Sparkle’s ass.

Spike was the first to notice. Twilight was in the middle of a boring lecture about some wizard who died a long time ago (Which really narrows it down), when Spike suddenly asked, “Twilight? You’ve got a pimple on your ass.”

Twilight turned around and there it was: small, barely pink, but there. “Aw, sheeeeeeeeyit,” she cursed. “I wonder if we have any spells on removing a pimple.” She went through her magic book. Spike groaned. Twilight was so disorganized she probably wouldn’t know where to begin looking. It didn’t help that she was looking at a cookbook.

To save her time, Spike went to the magic section. Drawing his claw over each spine of every book, he came across Magical Removal of Embarrassing Bullshit. Spike flipped through it, looking for anything about pimples. “Blemishes, genital warts, second and third noses, in-laws, voices in your head, the clap… Ah, here it is, pimples.” Spike handed the book to Twilight.

Except this action failed, as Twilight had no hands. Instead she had telekinesis, which actually works better, especially for those itches you get in hard-to-reach places—and don’t even get me started on how much more interesting masturbation gets.

Anyway, Twilight looked at this section of the book. She smirked. “Yep,” she said closing the book, “This is one of THOSE kind of fan fictions.”

“What kind?” asked Spike.

“The kind where something really fucking stupid happens only to get even more fucking and stupid.” Twilight thought over the implications. “Let’s just hope there’s more of the former than there is of the latter. I haven't gotten any in a while.”

“And what I do to you every Wednesday night doesn't count!” Spike grinned like an idiot.

Twilight recited the magic words. “Bibble-babble-mickey-mass-get this pimple off my ass!”

And the pimple disappeared! Problem solved. To celebrate the thwarting of an embarrassing elevation of the skin, Twilight decided to throw a Mexican barbecue right then and there. And I mean she actually rounded up a bunch of Mexicans, shoved them into a grill, and threw them off her lawn. Not only had she solved her pimple problem, Twilight Sparkle had also solved America’s immigration problem.

Except that never happened. Twilight doesn’t even fucking live in America. America should solve its own goddamn problems instead of relying on fictional characters to do it for them. Superman needs his downtime too, America! Stop being selfish!

Spike looked at Twilight Sparkle’s ass to see that it was now pimple free. “I hereby declare this ass pimple-less,” Spike declared hereby. “Only now we have a much bigger issue at hand.”

“What is it, Spike?” Twilight looked behind her only to see her ass staring right back at her. She had accidentally cast a “Second-Face spell” on her own ass. She did it because she is a stupid, stupid pony.

“Hey pal,” said Twilight’s ass, “Thanks f’r takin’ care o’ that pimple problem there. It was gettin’ mighty itchy now, dontcha know!”

Twilight groaned. Yup, it was indeed one of THOSE fics.

Step Two: Two-Step

It had been two days since Twilight Sparkle had learned how to literally talk out of her ass. Applejack had quizzed it to find out she was dumber than Twilight’s ass, which was not pleasant for her to know. These days, Applejack sat on a log outside Sweet Apple Acres, thinking over her pitiful life and listening to Simple Plan.

Twilight Sparkle began researching ways of removing the Second Face spell, only for Spike to keep talking to Twilight’s ass. As it communicated more with Spike, it learned a great deal more about the world, and became fairly educated.

“Pip pip, dontcha know,” it would say in an attempt at sounding smart. “Shut the fuck up,” said Twilight. “And get that goddamn monocle off your face.” She blinked. “I mean, off my ass. And the bubble pipe, too.”

Twilight’s ass gave her sass. “I’m more than just yer ass now, dontcha know. I know how to do my nyumbers and letters. Five plus five is I before cheese.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. She then sat down on the floor in order to shut her ass up. It didn’t work. “Mmf mmf mngle bmff,” it said. If Twilight had only listened to her ass, she could have solved the problem of world hunger, which is what her ass was totally telling her. Unfortunately, the next time Twilight stood up would be after her ass had forgotten the answer. Why are you still reading this? And why am I writing it?

Suddenly, in came Applejack, dressed in a depressing black, her hair dyed a black, and her black was blacked black. At first, Twilight thought Applejack had lost her shadow. That’s how black she was. “MAH LIFE IS A LIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE” she whined.

Twilight scowled. “Honey, you don’t KNOW what a lie IS until you’ve had your ass talk back to you.”

Applejack tried cutting her wrist using a nearby book. “But I’ve talked to your ass. And it made me feel stupid!”

Spike shrugged. “So does reading this awful fanfic. Fife should be hanged by his testacles.”

Applejack whined some more about dumb she was, and how her life sucked, and how out of character that allowed her to be. As she complained, all the awesome was drained out of Twilight Sparkle and Spike. “This is byad,” said Twilight’s Ass. “I gotta do somethin’ about all this, now thyen yet!”

Thinking quickly, Twilight’s ass began complimenting Applejack. “Ya got a loving fam’ly, yerra hard worker, and yer head is like a swell melon, dontcha know!”

Applejack felt better. She began to jump and run around like she was stupid, because she was. “My head’s a melon! IT ALL MAKES SENSE!” Her teeth cheered.

The awesome returned to Twilight and Spike. Her ass breathed a sigh of relief, which is kind of like saying it farted in a very comforting way. “Oh, now thyat was a close one, dontcha know.”

“Spike! We’re awesome again!” Twilight said with a cheer. She decided to make out with Applejack’s melon head. Spike was awestruck by the sight of his sister figure tonguing a literal melon, since Applejack was a registered Republican and therefore couldn’t be caught kissing another mare. Applejack in fact ceased to exist. And so did the Republican party. REALITY SUBTEXT! REALITY SUBTEXT!

Spike flipped on some ZZ Clop and began to air guitar in celebration of his own awesomeness, Applejack’s melon head, Twilight’s ass, and the Republican party. He suddenly sprouted a beard. All was well.

Please stop reading this fic. Save yourself. It's only going to get worse. Pinki Pie takes a shit in the next chapter. On Fluttershy's face. Seven times. That's all it is. So stop reading. Please?

Step Three: Even Worse

The problem with having a talking ass, Twilight thought, is that not only was it strange in and of itself, but that it was also oddly a good listener. Despite her ass, you know… not having any ears. I mean, Twilight had given it eyes, a mouth, all that other stuff. Speaking of all that, you don’t really want to know what it was like trying to go to the bathroom.

But I’m going to tell you anyway. I mean, I warned you after all to stop reading this shitty fanfic.

“Come on!” Twilight yelled. “I haven’t pooped in days!”

Her ass shook its head. Which meant her ass was wiggling on the toilet seat. “Stop fucking doing that!” Twilight smacked her ass. “I… can’t believe I just did that,” she admitted. And let’s face it, I don’t think we can believe that either. I mean, I can’t even fucking believe I just typed that.

Well anyway, it isn’t as if her ass could be blamed. I mean, have you ever pooped out your mouth? That’s what it’s like to be an ass. They have quite a terrible lot in life. So to protest this gross negligence of ass rights, Twilight’s ass refused to poo. Its mouth remained shut.

Twilight groaned, still on the toilet. She rested her head on her hoof. Just then, she saw a white flash. She turned to see Spike with a cell phone. “This is going up on the Internet!” he chuckled.

“It already IS on the Internet, you shit-nosed little piss-faggot doodie-kissing mudfucker goddamn butt-weasel crotch-squeezer,” she yelled as Spike left. She thought over if she had left out anything offensive. Nah, this was getting a Mature rating anyway.

Twilight resumed her thought process. “OK,” she told her ass. “I know you think I’m mistreating you,” she said. “And I can’t say I blame you. But the thing is, if you don’t let me poop, we’ll both die, OK? My digestive tract can only take so much abuse. We’re gonna get sick, and we’ll both die.”

She could tell her ass was thinking this over, because she could feel its nose wiggling about.

“Well, yeah, I ‘kin see thyat, but—”

“GOTCHA!”

And with that, Twilight let it all out. It felt good, like being cleansed after wading around in pudding and being tossed into a black hole. Black holes, man. Fuck ‘em.

Twilight let out a sigh of relief as her ass began to yell at her.

“Oh what th’ fyuck, now then yet! Do you knyow what shit tastes like? It tastes like shyit, dontcha know. An’ I don’ think you digested some of it all th’ way! ‘Re you sure you’re chewing fifty times b’fore swallowing, young lady?”

“What are you, my mom?”

“No, I’m yer ass. ‘F yer gonna take a shyit it’s gonna go th’ru me, dontcha know!”

Twilight Sparkle reached for the toilet paper. The roll was empty. “Shit.”

“What, again?”

“NOOOOOO,” Twilight roared. “Spike didn’t change out the toilet paper when he was done using the toilet last time.” She raised her voice. “SPIKE! Get me some more toilet paper would ya?!”

But no matter how much Twilight hollered, Spike couldn’t hear her. He was in his bed listening to some Five-Finger Death Punch and reading a naughty magazine. It was the October issue, with “TRIXIE: Great and Powerful On and Off the Stage” written on it. “Oh, I doubt that position’s even possible for ponies,” he snickered.

“Goddammit, ” Twilight muttered. “He better not have gotten into my porn stash.”

“Why ya gotta read those anyway, Twilight? Yer better than that, dontcha know.”

Twilight pursed her lips. It was true she was quite lonely, and despite her great desire for stallion company, there were precious few of them. She knew Lauren Faust had tried to get more male characters on the show, but those fucking clowns at Hasbro said “No this is a girls show” not thinking boys might wanna watch cute little ponies fuck shit up.

The more she thought about it the more angry she got. Her ass tried to get her attention. “Twilight? Ya there, Twilight?”

“WHAT?! Can’t you tell I’m boiling with sexual frustration?! Every time I try to land it with a fucking stallion, it turns out they’re into some weird fetish I’ve never heard of!”

“I take it you don’t spend vyery much tyime on th’ Internet, now then yet.”

“Why the fuck would I?! It’s full of people who read fanfictions that have me sitting on a toilet, talking out my ass TO MY ASS, wishing I could get laid! And they’d fucking ENJOY READING IT!” In her defense, you probably are. Come on, admit it. You wouldn’t have gotten this far if you didn’t.

Twilight got even angrier. “And where the fuck is my TOILET PAPER?! SPIKE!!! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN’?!”

Upstairs, Spike was rummaging through Twilight’s other porn mags. They strangely enough seemed to all be of mares, not that Spike was complaining. He never questioned Twilight’s sexual preferences until now, but whatever they were, I’m not writing a fic about it. Sorry.

Spike heard Twilight calling for him. He set down the magazines and went downstairs. Knocking on the door, Spike asked, “Hey, Twi, everything OK in there?”

“NO! I need some toilet paper, goddammit!”

“Jeez, why are you so hostile?”

“Might have something to do with the fact that my ass is getting itchy from all the shit stuck to it!”

“Kinda like leavin' yer shaving cream on too long, dontcha know.”

Spike threw his hands in the air. “OK, OK! I’ll go find some.” He went into the linen closet and searched around a bit. He came across a pretty interesting-looking pink tube. “Oh my God,” he said, “You serious, Fife? GodDAMN you.” He threw it under a floorboard, where he hoped I’d never have him retrieve it for a later scene of tasteless humor.

Spike did not come across any toilet paper. “Twilight,” he called. “I’m sorry but there isn’t any toilet paper! I’m gonna have to run to the store and get some.”

Out of Twilight came a long, drawn-out groaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnn. Spike apologized and left. He didn’t take any money because he wasn’t going to buy any toilet paper. Instead he was going to go milk leo because I sure as hell wasn’t going to.

“Hey Twilight,” said her ass. “Wanna sing a song?”

Not the strangest thing to have happened all week. “Why the fuck not.”

And they joined together in song, face and ass, ass and face. Their dulcet tones caused the souls of all who listened to feel elated, as though these two voices combined invited one’s imagination onto a dance floor and lead them in a graceful tango. It was not unlike listening to the wind making love to a goddess.

“A hundred bottles of beer on the wall, a hundred bottles of beeeeer…”

Step Four: Milk Maids

By now, you’d think Twilight would have been driven insane by her talking ass. If you don’t think she was, that probably means her ass drove you insane, and not in the harmlessly lusty way either. Sicko.

“MY ASS IS DRIVING ME ALL TWENTY-ONE FLAVORS OF FUCKSANITY,” Twilight shouted.

Spike merely rolled his eyes. “I thought you were researching some kind of stupid spell to remove the face on your ass.”

Twilight’s ass merely smiled dumbly. “I’m more th’n jus’ myagic, dontcha know.”

Spike smirked incredulously, looking up from his book, labeled “This Book Is About How to Remove Faces Off Your Ass (And I’ll Bet You’ll Never Read It)”. He closed it, thereby destroying any real resolution to this story. He did it because you sickos apparently want this stupid fic to continue. You assholes.

Twilight poked her ass on the head. Wow,writing that was a lot weirder than I thought it would be. “YOU are NOT MAGICAL. YOU ARE AN ASS. FUCKING BEHAVE LIKE ONE.”

That’s when Twilight’s ass had a strange thought. “I haven’t acted lyike an ass for awhile now then yet. What’s an ass s’posed to act like?”

Spike smiled. “Easy! You tune in to the Daily Show and just repeat everything Jon Stewart says as if it’s funnier when YOU say it!” He guffawed, slapping his knee. His knee did not like being slapped. It plotted its revenge. Someday, Spike. Someday soon.

“Regardless of whether or not Jon’s material works for everypony, what is it exactly that’s being suggested?” Twilight asked.

Getting a little more serious, Spike explained himself. “Basically, Twilight, if we can’t return your ass to normal, we should teach it to at least pretend it’s a real ass.”

Twilight pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling. She hmmmed a bit. Her ass hmmmed too, which felt weird for Twilight. It was as if her entire lower half began to vibrate, like a pager going off. Feeling her ass vibrate only helped to make her even more confused about her sexuality.

Suddenly, because we haven’t seen any of the other Mane Six in this fic yet, Fluttershy came in dressed like a milk maid. Spike and Twilight Sparkle and Twilight Sparkle’s ass wore bemused facial expressions. On their faces.

Fluttershy immediately leapt to Twilight. “Twilight!” she pleaded. “You HAVE to help me! I just realized we’re in one of THOSE fics!”

Twilight decided to try and play dumb, sitting down to hide the face on her ass. “Wh-What kind of fics is this?”

“The kind where Rainbow Dash develops a quirky perverted fetish and is currently trying to get me interested in it!”

Just then, they heard Rainbow Dash’s familiar voice singing from outside. “Hey, Fluttershy! I found the sour cream and the corduroy pants! We’re all set!” Fluttershy whimpered and looked into Twilight’s eyes, trying to appeal to any humanity she may have held.

Except she didn’t possess any humanity, as she was not human. She possessed ponynity. That quality of cartoon ponies that sympathizes with others—especially if their best friends suddenly decided to shag them with sour cream for no thoroughly-explained reason.

Twilight nodded. “OK, Fluttershy, hide, I’m going to try to convince Rainbow Dash to leave.” She looked to Spike and motioned with her head to have him lead Fluttershy to safety. But Spike was stupid, so he shoved Fluttershy in between some books. Twilight shrugged. “Eh, it’ll have to do.”

So Twilight got up and answered the door. Outside, Rainbow Dash was wearing a pair of corduroy pants on her head and had a sour cream beard. For a few seconds, Twilight had absolutely nothing to say. “Ask her what she’s doing here,” her ass whispered.

“Is your ass talking?” Rainbow Dash asked, tilting her head.

“N-No, it isn’t,” Twilight lamely lied.

Rainbow Dash blinked. “It so is. I heard it.”

“No you didn’t! I just... farted.”

“Your farts can form words?”

Twilight looked about. “… Yes?” she said, smiling insecurely.

Rainbow Dash stared her down. The situation was becoming too hilarious for Spike. His face was contorting into a mix of confusion and laughter as he tried to keep his guffaws to himself.

Rainbow Dash broke her staredown. “Well, OK, then. That’s pretty hot, by the way.” Twilight seemed taken aback by her friend’s casually kinky comment. “But I’m here for Fluttershy.” Rainbow Dash leaned in to Twilight and winked. “She’s gonna be the milk maid.”

Twilight’s insecure smile doubled in insecurity for a few seconds. “WELL! She isn’t here,” said Twilight.

Said Rainbow Dash, “Yeah she is. I saw her fly in through the window.”

Said Twilight, “She flew out when you stopped to knock on the door.” She hoped that would have been a sufficient lie.

It seemed to have worked. Rainbow Dash merely nodded. “Did you see which way she went?”

“She headed off in the direction of the Great Big Super Death Drop Where You Might Just Lose All Your Legs Gorge,” Twilight said.

“Awesome! I like it rough,” Rainbow Dash purred. With that, she took off in the direction of one of the most hideously dangerous places in Equestria, equipped with nothing besides her pants, lust, and sour cream beard.

Twilight closed the door. Her ass called out to Fluttershy. There was no way for me NOT to snicker at writing the previous sentence.

“Hey, Fluttershy, we made the pyervert go a-way-way, now, doncha know. You ‘kin come out now.”

Fluttershy fell off the shelf. “Thank you,” she said, getting up and straightening out her dress. “Is it OK if I stay here a little longer, though? In case she comes back?”

“Sure,” Twilight said. Her stomach began to growl.

“Lunchtime!” Spike declared.

As they got their lunchy things out to eat, Twilight’s ass once again began to protest. “Y’know Twilight, howcome you get all th’ tasty stuff while I have to do th’ pooping?”

“Because I’m the face, and you’re an ass.”

“Well, f’r once, I’d like t’know what fyood tastes like, doncha know!”

Spike got a great idea. “Well, why not?” he asked. Fluttershy nodded and got her spoonful of oatmeal to the ass’s mouth. Twilight felt the spoon going in her ass and—

—holy shit, it’s chewing.

Fluttershy suddenly stopped. She glared at me and threw the spoon at my face for leaving this scene in despite my promises of editing it out. She growled. “This is one of THOSE fics too, isn't it!” she bellowed. “One of those fics where we all do bizarre and disgusting things to each other so some sickos on the Internet can jerk off to it! Well I am NOT going to be apart of this madness!”

Fluttershy took off her milk maid costume and threw it on the floor in disgust. She began to stomp around the library, roaring and ranting about everything. “The writing style is atrocious, half the jokes are nonsensical, and the other half is completely disgusting! Do you guys even understand just how much of my soul I’ve lost from even BEING in this fic? That’s five pounds of soul I’m never gonna SEE again!”

So, having enough of this fan fiction’s bullshit, Fluttershy made her way to the door. “If you wanna feed your own ass so you can poop out your mouth later, that’s perfectly fine by me! But I’m not gonna be around when it happens!”

“That’s a shame,” Spike said. “It was gonna be really funny.”

Fluttershy opened the door. “Sure it is—TO A FOUR-YEAR-OLD!” She turned to the readers. “You should ALL be ASHAMED of yourselves! Putting fictional cartoon characters through all this crap! I mean, haven’t we been through enough?! Now you wanna see us do even MORE horrible things?! To each OTHER?! HOW DO YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT?!”

With that, Fluttershy walked out and slammed the door hard enough to shake all the books off the shelves. Before anypony could say anything, Fluttershy opened the door again. “And do something about your ass! It’s creeping me out!” She slammed the door again.

Before anypony could say anything, Fluttershy opened the door again. “And your choice in décor STINKS!” She slammed it again.

Before anypony could say anything, Fluttershy opened the door again. She glared at them all for a few seconds of awkward and uncomfortable silence. “It DOES!” she affirmed, then slammed the door so hard, it knocked the shelves off the wall.

Spike wanted to say something, but before he could, his knee got its revenge and got him in the balls.