Some Pony Visits the Proctologist!

by Theobservantpilgrim

Rating: mature
Tags: Human, Comedy
Length: 2854

Proctologists are bad, especially when they say things like "Where's my watch?" Human immigrant proctologists who operate in Ponyville are the worst. Good ol' Some Nerd will find this out the hard way.

A human barred from going about his chosen passion on Earth has become the number one proctologist in Equestria. And though he gets a lot of unusual customers who seem repulsed by his eagerness, one such customer seems to have a rather unusual visit. That customer in question is some pony, an astounding adonis with a voice well known for it's melodious tones.
What could possibly go wrong?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-31 23:40:11 UTC

Chapter 1: Proctology in a Equestria

Equestria is a wondrous world filled with excitement, danger, and intrigue. A magnificent existence is the Equestrian one as it is brimming with marvels of a both scientific and magical nature. While this place is far different from one we are accustomed to, it shares so many similarities that we may take from it life lessons that shall persist throughout our minds for so long as we continue to thrive. Yet, beyond the scope of all that is good in this world, for all their majestic wonders and impressive technology they have yet to master some of the basic necessities. In Equestria, there is no toilet paper.

This is correct, as your average Equestrian being is a rather sizeable creature of immense weight and secretion that the manufacture of toilet paper would be cost prohibitive. However, it would be improper for those intelligent inhabitants to be reduced to a state no better than one of the lowly animals, and so a group of ponies did the unthinkable and sacrificed their lives to cleanse all of their unmentionable issues. This began the birth of the Equestrian Proctologist’s Guild. It is thanks to these unfortunate souls that not a bum in Equestria goes tainted, though everypony is left unable to sit for hours on end given that hooves are particularly large.

However, the guild received little financing due to their rather controversial nature and so the standards on who may join was not a test of ability but rather who was willing to shell out a few bits for membership. Needless to say, this attracted a rather unsavory sort. Still, at least it’s less painful than going to the dentist.

Now my papa always told me “Son, hand me the clicker.” But he also told me on several occasions “Son, you’re gonna be big some day. But first thing’s first, you gotta stop this faggot nonsense.” And that really struck me during my formative years. I mean, I didn’t stop, not completely, but I sure did manage to keep my so called “impulses” in check. How did I achieve this you may ask? Okay, you may not have asked that but I’m going to answer this anyways. I decided to pursue a career in proctology. Unfortunately, after I finally obtained my doctorate, I was turned down at my local practice because they heard that I had done terrible things to nearby waterfowls. I’d rather not go into it, but there’s a good reason why you always see ducklings walking close to their mother.

Given my misfortune, one may imagine to my surprise as to how elated I was to find that portals to a new land had opened all across the world! Finally, a place where I may not be judged by my cruelty to animals, but instead by the content of my character which in itself is cruel to all living creatures. So I ventured forth into one of these such portals, which was located in a public restroom, and entered a world of vibrant colors, including brown which I seemed to have stepped in. It was as I was cleaning my hoof upon a not as splattered section of grass that I realized I had hooves now. I found that I had entered a world of ponies. Oh goody!

I explored the world quite thoroughly, and noticed a great many things including winged horses, horses with horns, horses that can talk, and eggs. Regrettably, this place still had ducks which existed within it, but hey, nothing is perfect. Soon enough I found that there were two common places that the ponies all converged at, one of which happening to be a place run by some pink eccentric who frightened me to the core and the other being a local proctology practice. I was beyond gracious to have found such an establishment, and that they did not require the same standards of decency as those fools from Earth. I obtained a working position here and soon found myself as one of the chief proctologists, if only if because I was so very enthusiastic about my work.

Chapter 3: Sitting On The Edge of a Chair, In the Waiting Room

The glorious globe that is the sun hung high in the sky, painting golden rays upon the world to encourage the intrinsic beauty in all that the light touched. The grass was greener, the birds were tweetier, and nopony died, yet. Truly the outside world was gorgeous. So naturally one lone unicorn stayed in his bed under the covers, with deliberate scorn of the magnificent star above. His name was of no importance, he was just some pony.

The sun continued to beat down through the windows, and so the nerd used his magic in the most constructive way possible and drew the blinds. The blinds, however, went up in flames in mere moments. Though the rest of the window sill was left unscathed, the persistent annoyance of natural light shone through. It seemed as though nothing would stop Celestia from blighting the pony on this fine noon, and so he rolled out of bed and flopped on the floor. He wiped away some of the sleep sand from his eyes, a reminder that it was probably a bad idea to steal whole sandboxes from the playground. Once his eyes cleared up, he was met with unfortunate news as they beared upon a nearby calendar dangling off of a wall.

“Huh, so I have a calendar now.” He said, followed by “Oh crap, I’m late for my appointment!”

And so he swiftly snatched up his glasses and adorned them as he sped outside his domicile, managing to trip over himself only twice during his rush. Twas a mad dash he made to the local proctology clinic, even if it was only a short journey. He managed to tip over one orange cart, knock over several children, and accidentally murdered an innocent ladybug capable of speaking coherently. Although the ladybug could only speak in spanish, so everything was fine. Today was going just great in comparison to the usual though. Because the trip was so short, he managed to find himself inside the clinic soon enough and flopped on the ceramic tile of the floor trying to catch his breath, which would’ve been easier had he brought a net with him.

After a hair past a freckle, the pony regained consciousness and slithered up to the counter, arising from beneath it and surprising the attendant.

“Hey, I’m some pony. I have an appointment?”

With an ever inquisitive eyebrow, as the attendant's position provided her with little power aside from being able to accuse and judge people, she looked at him and then searched through a clipboard. “Alright, the doctor’s busy at the moment. Please, have a seat.”

The pony went over and sat next to one pony with a so called glandular problem who was eating several cheeseburgers at a time and a pegasus whose feathers were falling out into a pile beneath her. All this scene would need is a hobo using a brown paper bag as a urinal and it may as well be a public bus. Aside from this, the pony sat patiently for several seconds before going to sleep. He awoke in a cold sweat soon afterwards and had his hind legs closed as tight as possible without merging molecules.

“No Celestia, not the strap! Not the Indian yavapai strap, anything but that!”

The neighbors in their chairs were startled, however they calmed down quickly enough before one of them managed to ask a question, and it wasn’t the pony with the cheeseburgers.

“Were you talking about the princess by any chance?”

With that said, the pony began to loudly sweat. He knew that if he admitted to the truth, he would be vulnerable to the princess. Oh, and he’d be thrown in the dungeon too. And given his recent regrettable excursions, he conceived that a lie would do the trick.

“No.”

Truly he was a master of persuasion. And under the belief that this satisfied the ever so inquisitive pegasus, he went back to sleep. He awoke seconds later screaming “Ah! Cobras! Why Celestia, why?”

Maybe this isn’t going to be such a shpadoinkle day.

Chapter 4: Trust Me, I'm a Doctor. No Really!

From behind the attendant, a voice that had begun its melody only minutes before chimed “Next patient!” And the door next to the counter burst open exposing a stallion standing in the doorway clad in a physician’s uniform. “Who’s next?” Everypony shrunk and silence fell throughout the room, as though they were children in the presence of a bully. He walked close to the seats, past the pegasus who curled up and looked like little more than a pile of fluff. He came up to the door and span around and walked back, passing the pony with a glandular problem who stopped chewing and had stuffed his mouth with two cheeseburgers at the same time. Finally he stopped in front of one unicorn in particular, a unicorn who happened to be wearing glasses.

“Well now, what’s your name?” He said, turning to face the unicorn who had sunk into his seat.

“I'm just some pony.”

“Well, some pony, you wouldn’t happen to be next would you?”

The pony just nodded, eyes large and full of fright.

“Then go ahead and follow me, everything will be done quick as pie.”

The pony got on all four of his hooves and followed as the pony who led the two of them down a hallway and then into a small room. The space was mostly comprised of counters, shelves, and one large bed in the center of the room. There were two doors, one that most likely led into the bathroom and the other to the hallway. There was no escape.

“Alrighty, go ahead and drop your pants and we’ll get on with it.”

This must be exactly how Star Wars felt during the whole Disney incident. Knowing the inevitable, he turned around and went over to the bed, leaning over it. He then grabbed near his waist. The pony was shocked to find that he was already naked save for his glasses.

“Silly nerd, ponies don’t wear pants.” Said the pony behind him, who let out a yucking laugh. “Which makes my job all the more easy.” The pony heard the distinctive snap of latex against skin. Foolishly, he turned his head to see that the doctor was pouring a viscous, gel-like substance over his gloved hoof. Noticing the pony’s curious expression, he slowly came up behind him causing the nerd to stare forward. “Oh, no need to worry. This is more for me than it is for you.”

“Doc, I’m a little tense. Wouldn’t this be better if you stopped saying stuff like that?”

“Well then where’s the fun in that?”

The pony was perspiring bullets. Nothing gave him the slightest inkling that this was going to be easy or non-traumatic. “Alright. Well give me a signal when you’re goi- OH GOD!” Words need not be shared about what had just occurred.

“Huh, these quaaludes must be kicking in.” The pony was regretting his decision to get out of bed this day. It seems that whenever a sign from Celestia showed up, whether it be the sun or a letter, this was always the position he found himself in. If there was anything worse than the pain, it was the jokes.

“Alright, duck toy, three balloons, guatemalan child. I hope you weren’t planning on flying today.”

Oh heavens the jokes. It didn’t help the way he was squirming around. His usual guy wasn’t this unprofessional. Typically it was a mutually tense affair involving lots of looking the other direction and talking about the weather while avoiding the topic of rain. Then again, it would be a comfort to know that at least he’s being thorough. In fact, though there never was the genuine fear of rectal cancer, it was rather relaxing to know that should he have it, it will be caught early enough.

Finally the ordeal was over and the pony placed the used glove in a nearby refuse receptacle. That’s tech talk for trash can. The nerd then engaged his auditory communication ability, meaning that he spoke, to the pony. “Alright, so we’re all finished, doc?”

“Yes sir, any questions?”

“Everything’s fine, right? I don’t have ass cancer, right?”

The pony in the doctor’s coat turned around and stared at the patient in the eye with one eyebrow raised. “I don’t think you can fit an entire constellation in your ass, however roomy it may be.”

“No, I mean the other kind of cancer. Please doc, this is serious.”

“What other kind of cancer is there?”

It then dawned on the patient that in all the commotion, beyond the jokes, before he had even left home, he forgot to look at his notebook which clearly stated “There is no cancer in Equestria.” He would have slapped his hoof to his face had he not been in a proctologist’s office.

“Anyways, the doctor will be in with you soon.” And the pony left the room.

Oh good lord. The implication of those last words hit the patient with such immense force he found himself laying on the bed, void of expressing any emotion. Was that just some pony? Some pony who probably came in off the street, got treated, found a doctor’s coat, and started rooting around inside him? The patient felt violated, deceived. To think, it was bad enough he went here, only to find out that he had no real reason to, but he was also sodomized in the very place where he felt he could place trust in another person without the need for an intimate relationship.

He curled up on the bed, it was chilled from being unused significantly. It was a minor comfort, a comfort that did not diminish the pressing issue. He probably could recover from this, sure, heal up good as new. But what would he do from now on, check the credentials on every proctologist from here on out? Somepony is bound to become suspicious, and question what would make him so paranoid about that. And what if a topic related to this comes up when he’s talking with his friends or family? He shuddered at that concept, knowing that if that happened he may do something stupid like get emotional. Already he wanted the cry, desired to cry, desperately wanted his body to finally cry so that he could get it all through with. But his body denied him.

Just then that same pony in the doctor’s coat came back into the room. “Hey, you’re kinda lagging. You do know that was a joke, right? I was your doctor the whole time. We kinda need the room so if you’re all done here would you please leave?”

Oh. . . Well I guess everything is fine then. The End!

Chapter 2: Oh God He's Singing Again!

The Ponyville proctology clinic was abuzz with the typical humdrum conversations that were carried out to pass the time, and for a time it seemed that this would be yet another peaceful Equestrian day. But then the chief proctologist burst into the room and lead into his theme song which was sung to the tune of “Dentist” from the musical Little Shop of Horrors.

“When I was a youthful and wiley kid

My Papa noticed weird things I did

Like sticking things into a doggy’s bum

I’d fuck a fishy, and when I had come

I’d grab a kitty cat and rape it dead

That’s when my papa said

He said ‘There better be no way

That’s what I say

My son ain’t never gonna be gay!

You’ll be a proctologist!

And you’ll do monsterous things with your fist!

You’ll be a proctologist!

A legally certified rapist!

The church has seen it’s share of lewdness

So watch where you stick your penis!

You’ll be a proctologist!

And you’ll be nothing less.’

(Here he is folks, he's looking for your crack!

He’s on the prowl for your bottom!

Does he need to use the whole fist?

He must’ve been raised in sodom!)

They say ‘it hurts!’

They all act dumb!

Turn and cough,

Here I go in your bum!

I am your proctologist!

I’m having fun right near your crotch!

I am your proctologist!

It seems I have misplaced my watch!

I am an expert on what goes on in your rectum!

Ready or not, my methods should be intrusive.

And though my patients may question why

I know, I know back in New Jersey

My Papa may be less disappointed in me!

Because I’m a proctologist!

And I can’t resist!”

Needless to say, everypony was left in a state of absolute fear which was alleviated only when he left the room. Although it could be worse.

“Oh, and we don’t have any more lubricant! Sorry folks.”

I hereby retract that last statement.