Garry's Mod Vs. Equestria

"Get the fuck off of me!" I screamed as I was tackled to the ground by no less than ten guards. "I saved your fucking lives you ungrateful little shits! Let me go!"

I went down with the sound of screaming Changelings in my ears and the heat of the fire at my side. I also heard some of the city's inhabitants scream, but mostly I think they just ran away.

"Hey, let him go, ya little fuckers!" Viking yelled, trying and failing in fighting off a dozen guards.

I punched one of the guards in the face, getting a spray of blood on my visor. I credited that to my metal gauntlets. "Get off of me you fucks!" I swung my fist and connected with another pony face, getting more blood.

"Get them under control!" the sergeant yelled. "Use your magic you idiots!"

I heard a shout from where Viking went down. It wasn't him.

"Magic won't work sergeant! What do we do?!" a pony yelled.

"I'm immune you bitch!" I growled, pushing most of the guards off of me.

"Get him under control!" she yelled again, though this time she sounded more nervous.

I nailed another two ponies in the face before I could get to my feet. It was about three seconds before I was on the ground again with that quiet stallion from before standing over me with a smirk on his face.

I kneed him in the gut and followed up with smashing my armored forehead into his unarmored one. It sucked to be him with his worthless helmet.

He stumbled back a few steps before falling on his side unconscious.

As I stood again, the guards drew their weapons and circled me. "The fuck is wrong with you?" I growled at the sergeant. "I saved all your asses and you attack me?! The fuck?!"

She glared at me. "You murdered them!" she shouted, pointing her hoof at the now-silent bundle of burning Changelings. "They were to be imprisoned and questioned, and you murdered them!"

I snorted. "It's not murder when they're your enemy, sergeant shit-stain. And if we don't kill the rest then the others'll be back and try to kill you all again!"

"There is no killing!" she screamed. "There's never been any killing! The losers are imprisoned until they've learned their lesson! Killing isn't right! It's wrong!"

I shook my head at her. "Really? Celestia herself hired me to kill the dragon that's hold up in the mountain. It's only wrong when there's no reason behind it."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "You're a knight, you know it's wrong! You know you're not supposed to kill!" Then she blinked, my words fully sinking in. "And knights don't get hired..."

I laughed. "Looks like you caught me red handed there sweetheart. The name's Vincent, Vinny for my friends and lovers. Merc, murderer, thief, con man, and escape artist extraordinaire, at your service," I said, giving a bow.

Viking finally pushed himself up, kicking at one of the guards. "I'm Archie," Viking said. "I'm just here 'cause I can be."

The sergeant gave us dirty looks. "Mercenaries, the scum of the planet," she spat out. "I should just throw you both in a cell right now."

I waggled my finger at her. "But you can't do that, can you sweetheart? Nah, you ain't the boss 'round here. You ain't even local. But that begs the question, though. Who is?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Tha' would be me," said a voice from our side.

Viking and I, along with the sergeant all looked at the new voice. An aged grey earth pony stallion stood there. He had a thinning white mane and tail, light brown eyes, and a gavel for a mark. All-in-all, he was completely ordinary as far as ponies go.

He stepped closer to us, eyeballing me and Viking. "You two saved this ci'y nearly single-'oofedly. Even though yer methods were wrong, you were tryin' to do th' right thing. Fer tha', I thank ya both."

I nodded. "You're welcome, Mr. Mayor. But maybe you should tell that to little miss bitch over here."

She glared at me coldly. "What did you just call me?" she growled out.

I snickered. "Ooohh, touchy!" I sang. "Is calling you a bitch not a good thing? Should I stop calling you a bitch, sergeant? Should I not call you sergeant bitch? Huh? Would that be wrong, sergeant bitch?"

She let out a scream of rage as she charged at me.

I stood there and let her collide with me. Thanks to my heavy armor, she did more damage to herself than me. "Is that all you got, bitch?"

"Enough!" yelled the mayor. "Sergeant Light 'Oof, you will stand down if'n ya wish for you and your platoon to stay within me ci'y!"

She pinned her ears back and took on a look of embarrassment. "Yes, sir," she muttered.

"An' as fer you!" he yelled, pointing at me with a hoof. "Your 'arassment of th' sergeant will stop immediately! D'ya understand me?"

I blinked. "Oh sorry, did you say something? I can't tell over this stupid fucking noise I keep hearing whenever you open your mouth."

He glared at me.

I sneered at him.

Viking laughed.

The sergeant growled.

"I think it would be best if'n ya left, young stall-yon," the mayor said, clearly containing a lot of anger.

"Nah, I don't think so. You see, after we single-handedly saved your city and everybody here, we feel kinda hungry and thirsty. Tired too. Y'know, from doing what an entire platoon of guards couldn't?" I asked sarcastically. "So I think we may need to stay for a few hours to rest. Maybe even a night, 'cause my back is pretty sore from saving everybody, y'know, single-handedly."

The mayor glared at me. "I'll grant ya one night at th' pub, but after tha', you're gone. D'ya understand tha' well enough?"

"Clear as mud," I said happily.

With one last glare he turned and left us, going back to whatever place he came from. I assumed it was somewhere that smelled like baby powder and milk.

I looked at the sergeant. "And then there were three..."

"I don't know who or what you are, but if you try anything funny, you'll be looking at this city from the inside of a cell. You got that?" she said, warning me unnecessarily.

I raised my eyebrow. "We have a common enemy, y'know. You should really be more friendly towards me." I lifted up my visor, showing my face that was still stained with blood and grime. "I'm Vincent, the pleasure's mine," I told her as I stuck out my hand.

For a while she just stared at it dumbly, but given a few seconds of thought she seemed to understand what I was doing. She took off her helmet, revealing a glossy black mane that hung down low. For the first time I could really make out her features now that the helmet was gone. Glossy black mane, of course, dark red coat, and sandy tan eyes. She was really quite pretty, by pony standards. "My name is Light Hoof, Staff Sergeant and ranking officer of platoon forty-three, Foaltrot Company," she said, extending a hoof towards me.

I gripped her hoof and shook it. "Y'know, you're kinda cute when you lose the rough exterior," I said. "That mane really compliments your eyes."

Her face turned a different shade of red and she pulled her hoof away. "T- that's enough, mercenary!"

I laughed and decided it was best to change the subject. "So anyways, back to our common enemy."

She cleared her throat and nodded. "Yes, the Changelings."

"What are you going to do with 'em?" I asked.

She raised a brow at this.

"Well, you can't very well keep 'em here. They'd eat up the city's resources faster than the people would. Plus with seventy abouts Changelings all in one prison, a breakout attempt will undoubtedly happen, and quick too..." I hummed in thought. "I suppose we could put 'em to work. Maybe have 'em working the mills or mines, if the city has 'em, of course. But the easiest solution is again, to just kill 'em all."

"There will be no more killing," she warned.

"Why not?" Viking/Archie complained. "Killing is fun."

We both turned to him. "Go away!" we both yelled at the same time.

He shrugged and left, going somewhere to do something.

I looked back to the sergeant. "So, what would you do with 'em?"

"We would question them and imprison them, normally. But since they're Changelings we can't do that because it's too dangerous to hold them without the proper equipment. So, we would release them when we're done getting information." She seemed to think this was a good idea.

I looked at the Changelings and saw them smirking back at me. I looked at the sergeant and saw her looking very serious. I looked back at the Changelings. I looked back at the sergeant. "Are you fucking retarded?"

"No, I'm not," she said angrily. "It's just our policy."

I sighed. "Your funeral. But I still think you should kill 'em all after questioning them."

She groaned and facehoofed. "Fine, I understand what you think. But we're not doing it."

"Celestia hired me to keep this country safe, and that's what I'm gonna to do. So if I can't kill 'em, at least let me shake 'em up a bit to scare 'em off for good."

She glared at me. "Will it shut you up?" she asked.

I nodded. "Indubitably, undoubtedly, and uncomprehendingly."

She waved her hoof at me, walking away. "Knock yourself out then," she said tiredly.

I pulled my visor down and turned to look at the now non-smirking Changelings. "So, who's first?"

***

"Let me ask you a question, friend," I said as I paced around the Changeling sitting at the small wooden table. "What does Marsellus Wallace look like?"

The Changeling looked at me oddly. "What?"

I threw the table out of the way, scattering the contents of its top all over the room. I stared at the Changeling in anger. "What country you from?!"

Its eyes shifted around nervously. "W- what?"

" 'What' ain't no country I ever hear of! They speak Equine in What?!" I yelled in its face.

"What?" it gasped, shrinking away from me.

"Equine muthafuckah! Do you speak it?!" I screamed loudly.

"Yes!" it yelled back.

"Then you know what I'm sayin'?!" I asked.

It nodded quickly. "Yes!"

"Then describe what Marsellus Wallace looks like!" I shouted, getting right in its face.

It shook its head in confusion. "W- w- what? I-"

I pulled my cleaver from its sheath and raised it to the Changeling's throat. "Say what again! Say! What! Again! I dare ya! I double dare ya muthafuckah! Say what one more God damn time!"

It raised its hooves defensively. "H- h- he's got a black coat!"

"Go on!" I shouted, pushing the cleaver closer.

"H- he's got no mane!"

"Does he look like a bitch?!" I demanded.

"What?" the thing asked.

I swung my cleaver and made a large slice on its torso, getting a loud shriek of pain from it. "Does! He! Look! Like! A bitch?!" I screamed in its face, spraying it with spit.

"No!" it screamed pitifully, shaking its head.

I gave it a look of exasperation. "Then why you try to fuck him like a bitch?" I asked tiredly.

"I didn't!" it retorted with a shake of its head.

"Yes you did!" I shouted. "Yes! You! Did! You tried to fuck him."

It shook its head at me. "N- no. No-"

"Well Marsellus Wallace don't liked to be fucked by anybody except Mrs. Wallace," I told it.

We looked at each other for a few seconds.

"Do you read the bible?" I asked.

It nodded, though I'm pretty sure it just wanted to be spared more pain. "Y- yes!"

I nodded. "Well, there's this passage I got memorized, sort of fits this occasion," I told it. "Ezekiel 25:17?"

It looked at me uncomprehendingly.

I shook my head. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the selfishness and the tyranny, of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper, and the finder of lost children," I started, angling the blade upwards into the Changelings throat and drawing the green blood. "And I will strike down upon with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers! And you will know my name is The Lord, when I lay My vengeance upon thee!" With that I brought my cleaver down, over and over again chopping into the head and body of the Changeling. It screamed at first, but soon after the body went limp and the screams stopped.

I wiped my blade of on the corpse and kicked the body into a pile of other dead Changelings in the corner.

When I figured out I wasn't being watched, I stopped playing nice. If these stupid ponies didn't know how to defend themselves, I would just have to do it for them.

I walked over to the table and righted it, placing everything back on top again, very neatly. After that, I walked over to the door and opened it. "Next prisoner!" I yelled.

A small Changeling got up from the other room and slowly made its way over to me. As it walked in the room, it cringed away from me.

I smiled evilly. The room wasn't soundproofed. I turned to the Changeling. "Have a seat, young 'Ling," I told it.

It averted its eyes from the pile of corpses in the corner and sat down without question.

I started pacing back and forth in front of it. "Let me ask you a question, friend," I said, pacing in front of the table that it was sitting at. "What does Marsellus Wallace look like?"

***

I yawned, rubbing my eyes tiredly. "So," I said, pulling my visor back down, "how many of you are left out there?" I asked the Changeling in front of me.

It fiddled with its buggy hooves before answering. "Maybe, ten?" it said quietly.

I nodded, yawning again. "I'm tired as fuck, you know that right?" I asked.

It nodded.

"And you know that I was just torturing you all to death, right?" I asked.

It looked sadly at the pile of bodies, now numbering sixty-two. "We kinda guessed that a while ago..."

I nodded slowly. "So, even though you knew that, you kept coming in the room with me. Why?"

"Well..." it said.

I rolled my hand. "Yes?"

"Well, we were hoping that you would get bored or tired before now, actually. So, we kinda wanted to wait until then and attack you when you were off guard," it told me.

I nodded. "But you do realize, even off guard you couldn't actually beat me?" I said, more of a statement than a question.

It bit its lip and nodded sadly.

I looked at it for a while. "Y'know, besides from your leader, I can't tell any of you apart. I can't even tell if you're a female or a male." I leaned back in my chair. "Why is that?"

It looked at me oddly. "Most Changelings don't have a gender. We can all shift into either a male or female of any race, so what we want to be decides what gender we are." It fiddled with its hooves some more. "And since most Changelings aren't too picky about where their meals come from, they're both genders."

I nodded slowly. "I guess that makes sense," I said. "So, what are you then?"

It looked at me oddly. "You honestly can't tell?" it asked

I shook my head. "No, all Changelings look and sound pretty much the same to me. Is that, like, racist or something?"

"No, it's not," it said sadly. "There are very few that can guess correctly on a Changeling's gender and preference without being a Changeling themselves. It's just natural, I guess."

I scowled. "That sounds pretty fucking racist to me," I said, irritated.

It shrugged. "There's nothing we can do."

I worked my jaw side-to-side for a few seconds. "I'm going to tell you a story. About my ancestors."

It looked at me, not sure what to think if I guessed right. But, Changelings...

"Hundreds of years ago, the people of Europe, the continent to our East, decided to explore the world. They had trade partners in India, to the East. They traded spices, silks, powders, animals, weapons, books, and everything else you can think of. All you had to do, was go... East.

"But one day, a young man by the name of Christopher Columbus wanted to go West. He wanted to know what was on the other side of the world.

"Now, most people back then thought the world was flat, so they said he would just fall of the edge off the Earth- our planet- and die in the abyss. They thought that going West was a fool's errand.

"But not the queen. Queen... Victoria? I'm not sure, but the queen thought the idea was interesting and decided to give him what he needed to sail across the great ocean. The country's best ship, crew, and equipment, all for him. All for this young trader that wanted to explore the world with no guarantee of finding anything, or even surviving.

"So, they set out one day and sailed into the great unknown. At first the trip was fine and dandy. But soon, storms came up. Storms that washed crewmen overboard and ruined their supplies with salt water. After that, blazing hot days that would scorch their skin and blister the hands and feet. But when the Sun went down, they slept through freezing nights that would chill you down to your bones.

"They went on like this for a long, long time. And eventually, they saw land. Now, because they thought they were going to India, they were happy just to be someplace friendly. But what they didn't know, was that they had just discover what would soon become America, or, 'The New World' as some called it. So it only made sense to them to call the native people there Indians at the time.

"Now, the Indians were a peaceful people, ready to help the new folks in any way they could. But the Europeans thought that because they didn't speak the language and didn't use metal weapons or tools, that they were little more than savages.

"So, convinced that the 'New World' was populated only by a savage people, little more than animals, they sent word back to their homeland telling of all the riches and opportunities to be had there. Stories of gold and precious gems tempted many foul people who wanted the riches, but cared nothing for the peoples.

"So, years later, more and more foreigners came to the New World. And as more men came, more weapons and ilk came too. And soon, Jamestown was settled, the... second? Yeah, second city ever built in what we now call America. They leveled entire forests to make this town, though, and the native people weren't happy about that.

"So a few years after that, the new people decided that they didn't just want the gold, they wanted the animals. Then they wanted the land. Then they wanted everything else.

"Now, the natives were still a peaceful people, and just wanted to appease the strange pale men to keep them from doing anything rash. They would give them land, they would give them livestock, they would give them their priceless turquoise jewelry. All to make the white men happy.

"But for them, it wasn't enough. They came to the villages and demanded more, but when they were told there was no more, they got angry. They killed the natives, slaughtering them like animals because they were greedy.

"This went on for a long, long, long time. For hundreds of years, my people were hunted and killed like game. They were treated like animals. They were forced from their homes and driven to reservations by the white men. And this created the Trail of Tears, where countless died. Weak, elderly, sick, children, newborns, all of them died because they were forced to walk hundreds of miles through burning Sun and freezing nights. And when they finally got to the reservations, they realized that they were now prisoners of the white man.

"They were given blankets as gifts by the white man, only to find that there were horrible diseases on them like Smallpox. They were given alcohol as a gift by the white man, but found out it caused them to be dependent on it, and the white man used it as a chain and collar. They were betrayed by the white man time and time again, and still it didn't stop there.

"They took their names from them, giving them white man names. John, James, Carrie, Eliza, Miles, Jessica, names like this. There was no more Sitting Bull, no more Flying Eagle, no more names of honor. No more names of our people, to tell stories about us, and our families and friends. Our names were our past, our history. They took that from us.

"But that wasn't enough for the white man. They took away our language. They forced us to learn their own tongue, and if we were caught speaking ours, we were beaten to the point of unconsciousness. They were trying to beat the savage out of us.

"They forced us to learn their language, their religion, their customs, their everything. All because we decided, in the very beginning, that they were our friends. Now, our people still live on those reservations, still have no rights, are still oppressed.

"We're still called Indians, even though we aren't even from India."

I took a deep breath, clearing my head. "If you let people think that you aren't different from each other, it's like letting them think you're all one big problem. The point of my story is that you can't let people think of you as anything else other than what you are: a person. In your particular case, a Changeling."

The Changeling looked down at its hooves, looking deep in thought. "My name is Mirage, and I'm a girl," she told me.

I smiled to myself. "It's very nice to meet you Mirage. I'm not going to tell you my real name, but my current stage name's Vincent, and I'm a man."

She smiled at me a little shyly. "It's nice to meet you too," she said meekly.

I smiled. "Do you want to know a secret?" I asked.

She grimaced. "Not really."

I leaned in closely. "You're going to hear it anyways," I said, taking in a deep breath. "The secret is... I'm not going to kill you or any other Changelings anymore. In fact, I'm going to help you escape."

Her eyes widened. "Really? You won't kill me?"

I shook my head as I leaned back in my chair. "Nah, but I will ask you for a quick favor."

She looked at me, probably confused. "What?"

I looked around me to make sure nobody was listening before speaking. "That sergeant was pretty cute. Do you think you could turn into her so we could fuck?"

She smirked at me before she flashed in green magic. When the magic had faded away, a smirking Staff Sergeant Light Hoof was sitting across from me. "So, I hear you think I'm cute?" the sergeant teased.

I sneered behind my visor. "Only enough for me to want to make a mess of that perky little ass of yours," I responded.

She stood up, her armor falling off of her. "You think you can take me?" she asked, a challenge in her voice.

I rose from my chair, leaning over the table to get in her face. "I don't think I can. I know I can." Technically, she wasn't a pony, so it wasn't bestiality. But she was a bug, so... I was fucking a bug? That's... a mildly horrifying thought... Eh, oh well. I've had worse.