Twilight carefully levitated Spike’s floppy, tiny balls from the beige table. A disgusted look was plastered over her face.
“Hey, in an act of kindness, I gave you my balls, so enjoy my balls!” Spike yelled as he noticed Twilight's disgusted face. He carried anger in his voice, severely pained in spots he would wish not to talk about.
Twilight was unsure. Spike’s under areas were in some pain, all because of that accident in Fluttershy’s house. She didn’t even want to ponder over the distress.
“I don’t know if I should be accepting such a ‘noble’ gift from you,” Twilight summoned an awkward pause. “I mean, you are in some heavy pain.”
All Twilight could muster was a creepy and awkward smile.
Spike angrily crossed his arms. “Well, if you’re so reluctant, then give me my balls back!”
At that moment, Twilight felt like she could faint. Spike continues to always hate the books Twilight gave him to the point where he would just stuff them in his closet holding many secrets. (And if you ask Spike, there apparently is no "clop") Even with that, Spike feels it to be an offense for his "balls" to be given back no matter how bad the situation.
Although Peewee was not even half as small as Spike’s petite balls. (Seriously, it's no wonder he can't get Rarity.)
Twilight picked up the seriously mushy balls and frantically passed them back to Spike. The two were disgusted, both in entirely different ways.
Guess more balls got—
(Spike came to Fluttershy’s house in a frantic dash. When Fluttershy sluggishly opened the oak door, Spike screamed about Twilight “murdering” an animal at the front spot of her doorway.
Fluttershy clearly didn’t take this seriously, and spoke to Spike in a scolding tone about how pranks like claiming somepony murdered is wrong, especially when it’s unlikely.
Spike’s sweat ran down his face like a sled down an icy mountain. He was sure he saw the blood—or was that ketchup?—and he saw the ripped apart animal—or was that his bunny doll? Nevertheless, it looked like Twilight was decapitating something, whether some toy or an animal.
Of course, he blabbered the aforementioned jargon he believed to be truth.
Fluttershy held a questioning face, when she noticed Spike had pockets in his body. Setting the current affair aside, she asked him about the pockets.
Spike facepalmed at her question, screaming that Fluttershy’s question doesn’t matter and that she needs to look at the real problem right now.
Before any creature could speak, there was screeching from the indoors, frantic echoes bouncing off the khaki walls of the cottage. As fate would have it, Angel Bunny was hungry.
The hard sound sharply rang in the cave of Spike’s sensitive ears. Spike easily fainted as Fluttershy failed to show any concern. She instead frantically dashed to Angel and—like a doormat—she followed the exact requests Angel wanted.
Without thinking, she runs past the door for the market and stomps on Spike’s… stuff. Thus what comes out is his tiny balls.
With an anger-summoned migraine growing inside him and pain welling up in his chest and other unspeakable parts, Spike noisily groans.)
—lost
Spike shivered at the reminiscing of the absolutely horrible event. Every part from below his chin was in some sort of burning pain.
It turned out Twilight decapitated some brown bunny-looking doll for an experiment that was carefully planned, also known as: “The Test to See How Spike Would React to the Decapitation of a Bunny Doll."
Well, the test went smoothly… except for of course, the “balls” part.
The entire library was silent. The ambient air full of awkwardness that not even Celestia could describe. Spike had offered his most special possessions, and even at such a time: his balls. The injured dragon would play would them, always having a fun time with them, even having the little thing on the wall.
He also used them when he was playing around with his little cardboard whelpling in his small bed (Albeit he did use Twilight's bed many times). Twilight never managed to see that. And she clearly never wanted to.
Lastly, Spike would take a grasp on them, and squeeze them hard. He felt in pain during those times, but maybe it was because of his weak muscles.
All of that made the situation even more awkward
.
The awkward silence was permeated by a bombastic opening of the library entrance. The pony standing there was Fluttershy.
“WHERE IS MY PATIENT?! IT'S TIME TO TAKE HIM TO THE BEDROOM!”
Angel stood in his tiny little seat, waiting for Fluttershy, who apparently forgot to get a cherry for his salad. Not acting too rude, he kept the salad intact for Fluttershy to add a cherry to when she got back—that was what she left for, right?
Of course, he does remember what happened as she left for—
(Angel perked up as Fluttershy dashed. Not as hungry as expected, Angel hops energetically across the floor to lightly stand on Spike’s stomach, and call out Fluttershy in bunny language.
Sadly enough, Fluttershy understood exactly what he was saying:
“HEY, FLUTTERSHY! YOUR LITTLE DRAGON FRIEND IS IN PAIN AND HE NEEDS YOUR ATTENTION! THIS IS WORSE THAN THE TIME THAT BROWN STALLION ASKED YOU TO BE HIS WIFE! YOU STOMPED OVER HIS SORRY ASS!”
Angel let out a tiny, little laugh. That was very memorable for him. Even if it did cost him a Carrot Sandwich with specially made carrots from the most deluxe carrot farm; Carrot Topped Acres. Lunches like that only come once in a bunny’s lifetime. Living at the farm won’t work for sure.
Distracted by memory, Angel is carelessly knocked off by Fluttershy—who was basically flying back. She continues to nurture Spike and scream countless things about "fixing him".
In that moment, Angel became severely hungry, making him slap Fluttershy clear across the face with the most force he could muster, in a way that Fluttershy’s priorities are different, the slap learned from watching Twilight make logic out of “The Stare” in Fluttershy’s house. It ended up in Twilight having learned a new skill called “The Priority Slap”, in which Angel—as a bystander—also learned.
Fluttershy pretended Spike was just some doll and she walked lightly to the market.
Long story short, Spike had to walk home.)
—the market.
Then, it just came out of nowhere. A sharp scream came from the distance, heard by the whole of Equestria. The salad tumbled over from the sound’s rumbling waves and its proper organization was fractured. In the aftermath, all the animals were in complete disarray, asking one another through their own language if they were “okay.”
Angel was the cold one among the group. “I don’t care about you asses, where is my FOOD?!”
Luckily for everyone else, no one understood bunny and only understood other languages, for the sake of—as explained by Fluttershy—not learning vulgar.
Being paranoid he might take over the cottage, a mother squirrel hastily took Fluttershy’s tiny medical kit, and whacked Angel in the face.
When Fluttershy left Spike’s bedroom door, she was basically hyperventilating. She’s never delved into the medical help of a tiny little whelp. Even as an animal specialist, she wasn’t prepared for specifically Spike’s issues. The hard part was possibly how Spike’s balls were getting everywhere as he kept on squirming.
Luckily, her lullabies were enough to lull the dragon into sleep, where Fluttershy took his balls before it bounced off. Twilight, having heard the noises, already stood near the doorway.
“So, how did it go?”
“Well, I’ll give you some advice. Don’t ever touch his Fun Time Bouncy Balls... or his balls.”
Author's Note
***No dolls were harmed in the making of this ponyfic***
P.S. There is a high chance that this was horribly written on purpose.
