It was early morning in the library when Twilight Sparkle smelled smoke. It rather ruined what had previously been a delightful time meticulously reorganizing the library and penning an absolutely scathing letter to Obsessive Librarian Princess monthly thoroughly tearing the alphabetical filing by sub sub genre scheme proposed by Midnight Twinkle while simultaneously presenting her own, much saner alphabetical filing by sub sub sub genre system.
“Spike!” she shouted, and a moment of tapping her hoof later remembered that he was in Canterlot on business.
***
“This is some primo shit, little scaly dude,” the filthy hippy told Spike. The baby dragon prodden the sticky green lump with a claw.
“You can trust this guy, Spike,” Princess Celestia assured him, “He’s the best source in Canterlot for Lunar Skunk.”
“If you say so Princess,” Spike handed over a small bag of coins, “so where are the bitches at?”
***
Twilight trotted around the library, sniffing at the smoke scent and hoping that it wasn’t her own tail on fire again. Three times in one week was embarrassing enough for her tastes.
Eventually her investigations lead her to a window on the ground floor. On the plus side, it seemed that her tail wasn’t on fire. On the down side, there was a massive column of smoke coming from town.
She bolted out the door in a panic. Fire was widely feared in Ponyville, mostly because they would have no truck with the idea of a dedicated Fire Department. After all, paying somepony by the number of fires they put out was the sort of thing that would only encourage more fires. Besides, thats what the pegasi were for, to kick a rain cloud over a fire and put it out.
Twilight’s run slowed to a trot when she realized this. By now the blaze would be under control. Then she broke into a run again when she realized that the pegasi most likely to respond were Rainbow Dash or Derpy Hooves and last time that had happened was memorialized as “Charcoal Thursday.”
Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw the source of the smoke, Sugarcube Corner. It billowed up out of the windows into the clear blue sky, and a knot of earth ponies and unicorns stood outside shifting uncomfortably and talking in hushed voices.
As she approached Twilight took stock of the crowd and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Mr. and Misses Cake with their twin toddlers standing outside. Then a feeling of cold dread gripped her heart.
“Where’s Pinkie Pie?!” she demanded as she trotted up to them. Mr. Cake just shook his head sadly, Misses Cake stared at the building in stunned horror. It was all the answer she needed.
It is worth noting that even the smartest ponies will occasionally stop thinking rationally when under pressure. The mind seizes up, or emotions cloud their judgement. This is why instead of flying off for a raincloud, Twilight Sparkle charged into a building full of smoke and probably fire, barely remembering to call up a protective shield spell to keep out the smoke.
“Pinkie Pie?!” she called out, fear making her voice rise several octaves, she heard the mare scream, “Pinkie I’m coming!”
She didn’t see the pink party pony anywhere in the shop, so Twilight charged upstairs, choking on the smoke slipping through her imperfect shield spell. She kicked in doors till she found Pinkie Pie’s room and saw the mare laying spread eagle on the bed.
This was when several things clicked for Twilight. The first was that despite the smoke, she hadn’t actually seen any fire or felt any heat. The second was that the scream she had heard wasn’t the scream of primal terror that generally went with life or death situations.
It was more the scream of mare mid orgasm. It was then that Twilight spied the source of the smoke, it billowed out of… out of…
No. Just… just no. What the actual fuck?
“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, looking over her shoulder.
The smoke is coming out of her fucking vagina?!
“Its more coming off of her vagina,” Twilight said, a blush spreading across her face, “I admit its a bit silly.”
A bit? A BIT?! Why the hell would her vagina be smoking in the first place?!
“Because my pussy’s so hot silly!” Pinkie chirped, leaping up onto all fours. “So hot its-”
Smoking. Yes. I get it.
“You still sound mad,” Twilight looked down at her hooves.
And you aren’t? All that set up for this?! For Christ’s sake that’s not even a pun! I could almost live with it if it were a pun.
“Well…” Twilight began.
Well what?
Twilight looked down at her hooves again and shifted her weight from side to side.
“Now listen here you big meany pants!” Pinkie shouted, “So what if its a lame set up to a lame punch line that just serves as an excuse for some hot lesbian horse action?!”
So wheres the emotional investment? Why should I, or the reader who we are probably losing with this needlessly meta exchange care about any of this tripe?
“Do you really need to?” Both Pinkie and the narrator stared at Twilight.
Well if there is going to be any kind of emotional payoff then-
“Ok, but what if the story is just to have a little fun? You know, groan at a bad joke and then masturbate to some just super hot lesbian horse sex. So you really need super deep characterization for that?” Twilight grew more confident, “Emotional depth and a solid story is fine, but sometimes you don’t need them to have fun.”
I thought at least you would be on my side, Twilight.
“Sorry,” Twilight gave the narrator a soft smile, “But right now I just want a cheap laugh and some sweet saphism. Later we can have a moving tale of love and redemption, but just now its time for me to knock Pinkie over and sit on her face. Or vice versa.”
Fine. But can’t you at least do it to a better punchline? I mean the title of the story is “Where There’s Smoke…” and the pay of is “Pinkie’s Hot Pussy.”
“Fun fact!” Pinkie chimed in “It’s actually not hot, its more sweet tasting!”
Fascinating. Look I just object to this idiotic joke is all.
“Then why are you still here if its such a huge problem?” Twilight asked with a raised eyebrow, “I mean, its not like anyone is forcing you to stay here and narrate this.”
True enough. I think the hot lesbian horse sex will be hotter in the reader’s mind than anything I could come up with anyways.
I’m gonna go out for a smoke. Maybe get some donuts as well. Before I go though, I just have to ask, why is Rarity standing in Pinkie’s closet with a leather corset and paddle? And why does she have a penis?
“Its a gasmaskangel story, darling,” Rarity said, “Of course I have a penis.”
Ahhh. Well you ladies have fun.
Author's Note
I have no idea what the hell happened here.
