"Hello Kids!" The giant, friendly purple dinosaur said into the camera. It was another day at the office for Barney, the little protagonist of our adventure, and today, he was especially happy. Some might say that's because he had already snorted three grams of 89% pure Ecuadorian cocaine, or that he had two hookers in his dressing room, just waiting for him to end the show, so they could show him what "I love you, you love me" really meant. Some might say these things, but in reality, he just really loved his job. Working with kids was always a passion of his, and now whenever he donned that big, sweaty, hot, grinning head the world just seemed to make sense.
A few songs and dances later, they broke for commercials, the small children still running and playing with the other cast members. He walked off stage to get a drink of water, and came across a small boy, cowering against the wall, knees brought up to his chest, head down, small sobs shaking his frame. Now, sure, Barney may have been impulsed to help this poor child based on a sudden homosexual pedophilic urge, or it could just be that Barney was a good person at heart. Regardless, Barney bent over, and asked the young child, "Hey pal, what's wrong?"
The kid jerked up, large, tear filled eyes gazing upon the smiling countenance of the world's least vicious T-rex. The bot scrambled backwards, the fear palpable in his eyes. Barney quickly took a step back, trying, and failing, to convince the child he was a friend. "This is bizarre," thought the purple dinosaur, "I'm sure he wasn't on the set, and he looks nothing like the kid tied to the radiator in the closet... Who is he?" Barney tried again to reassure the kid he meant no harm. Again, it didn't work. So our good friend Barney tried a different tactic. He took a few steps back, and sat down facing the boy. He then brought out the water bottle he habitually kept in a small pocket on the inside of the suit, and placed it in front of him.
The boy looked at him quizzically.
"Go ahead, drink it!" Barney said.
The boy mumbled something in return, Barney either couldn't hear or didn't understand. So he pushed on ahead, "I'm sorry, friend, but I didn't quite hear that. Could you repeat it?"
The boy said something again, and Barney was sure it wasn't english at this point. It sounded like the kid was crazy. "Perfect," he thought, "No one'll believe him if he escapes..." So, with this evil thought in mind, he pushed the water bottle towards the child again.
Finally the boy took the bait. DRINK! Sorry, not bait, drink. Finally the boy took the drink. Barney watched on, smiling as he made a new friend to "play" with. Barney's final thought on this mortal plane was something about those hookers helping him with this kid, when the boy in question lunged forward, ripping off Barney's head in one swift motion, and burying his teeth into the man's exposed flesh. Barney tried to scream, but the child's jaws were clamped too tight around his jugular, and Barney quickly faded into the blackness of death with an eloquently heroic "Blurgle gaarg fluumpsh."
Barney awoke with a start. "What a horrible nightmare," he said to himself, rubbing his large fake eyes. He stretched and yawned in the nice charred morning breeze. "Charred...?" Barney thought aloud. He opened eyes and took in the sights around him.
Everywhere he looked was a desolate, barren land, pockmarked with remnants of a seemingly long-dead civilization. A destroyed building here, a blackened and brunt wagon upturned over there, a gaggle of small, poly-chromatic horses coming at him. A true empty wasteland, devoid of life. "Hold the phone..." He said as his eyes panned back around to the horses, ponies, really, approaching him. He narrowed his eyes, and saw they were covered in crude armour. Spikes adorned their rudimentary protection, and he was almost sure one of them had razor wire wrapped around it.
Barney stood up, cocking his head to one side as he saw one pull out a long, metallic, tubular looking item. "Where did it get that?" Barney wondered, noting it looked almost like a rifle.
*CRACK*
The entire left side of Barney's head exploded in a furious avalanche of foam and stuffing as a bullet whizzed past the man inside's head. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! IT IS A GUN!" Barney cried, and scrambled away from the homicidal gun-toting ponies.
"What the fuck kind of place is this?" He thought to himself as he dove behind a half-destroyed cement building.
He heard maniacal laughter from the direction of the ponies who shot at him, and a frenzied cry of "GET THE PURPLE FUCKER!" rent the air. Barney panicked, dashing out into the open and straight into the hooves of the pony with the elegant razor-wire armour. The pony hefted a baseball bat and brought it down on Barney's arm. The suit's cushioning saved his arm from being broken, but it still hurt like a bitch. Barney cried out, scrambling away from the horrifying smile that alighted upon the pony's face when the bat connected.
Barney Shot upright, sprinting away as another crack split the calm, radiation-choked air. This, too, connected, luckily only shearing off his tail, scattering more fluff and the rest of Barney's coke to the four winds. Barney sobbed as his $3,000 drug stash drifted away on the breeze. But still, survival was more important. As our hero ran, the rifle wielding pony finally made a shot that did some real damage. The bullet flew through Barney's shoulder, sending blood and bits of shattered bone everywhere.
Barney screamed at the pain and stumbled, but kept going, now hearing giggles as the ponies moved in for the kill. Barney stumbled over a rock and tripped, falling to the ground and landing on his bloody shoulder. "AAAAARRGGGHHHH!!!" He cried out, rolling onto his side. He attempted to crawl away, his left arm hanging limp and bloodied by his side. Tears streamed down his face as a strong hoof was placed firmly onto his back. He heard a gun cock, and sobbed.
*BANG*
Barney opened his eyes as the pony crumpled off of him. He looked at, and saw only a bloody pulp where its face should have been. The entire top half of its face was gone, leaving the lower jaw coated in blood and brain and bone. The tongue flopped to the ground, and Barney looked away, straight into an eyeball that landed into the remainder of his faux head.
Barney vomited and threw off the fake head. And vomited once more. Two more bangs resounded, and as Barney looked on, the two other ponies were shot as well. One fell with its front hoof completely shorn off, the other's neck exploded into a gory spray, almost taking its head off.
The one survivor looked at it's mangled hoof, its eyes growing wide. Barney felt like vomiting again, but he held it down. At least until the wounded pony grinned, cackled, and tore off a piece of flesh with its teeth.
When Barney was finally done hurling, he looked around for his saviour, only to see it was more armed ponies. "Oh God no!" He cried, and tried to flee. But he was just now starting to crash from his coke high, and coupled with the adrenaline fading and blood loss quickly sank to his knees and collapsed. The small band of ponies approached his prone form, and prodded him with the barrel of their rifle. Barney moaned. They whispered among themselves and planted a glowing bottle in front of his face. "Drink it," one of them said, "you'll feel better." Barney was reluctant at first, but quickly acquiesced, grabbing the bottle in his good hand and downing it. Immediately, he felt far better, the pain in his arm was beginning to abate, as well. He looked at the wound, and was shocked to see it close up, the muscles, tendons, even bones regrowing and knitting themselves together. He turned back towards them, a smile gracing his features at their kindness, and turned right into the barrel of a small revolver one pony was holding in its mouth.
The smile quickly faded, and Barney shrunk back, mortified at this turn of events. The pony cocked the gun with its tongue, and Barney's eyes grew wide. "Wait!" He cried. "What are you doing? Y-you just saved me, why would you kill me?"
The pony with the gun seemed to ponder this for a moment. He spit out the gun and said, "It's more fun this way." It smashed its hoof into Barney's face, shattering his nose and jaw. Barney crumpled to the ground, sobbing from the pain and fear. He noticed now that he had soiled himself out of fear. He heard the gun cock, and turned his head. He saw, in slow motion, it seemed, the hammer fall, and saw the bullet spinning slowly as it roared towards his face. It exploded out the back of his head, imbedding itself in the ground below him. Barney's head burst apart, blood spattering the ground as he fell back into the puddle of gore. He twitched twice before finally staying still. The ponies quickly looted his corpse, and left.
Thus ends our narrative for today, kiddies! I hope you enjoyed it, and remember, this is what happens if you're a drugged up, pedophilic children's show host!
Author's Note
Please don't ask for why I created this monstrosity. I assure you, I'm just as concerned for my mental health as you all are. Well I hope you enjoyed it! I certainly did. Nothing like ruining a children's show for myself!
