And business is a-boomin'
It was your typical day in Ponyville. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, ponies went about their everyday lives without a care in the world. Just like every other day in Ponyville, peaceful and serene. Save for the occasional monster attacks.
And...
"MOVE! MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!"
The ponies of Ponyville perked their heads up, searching for the source of the cry.
Down the road was an orange pegasus filly racing through the streets on her signature scooter, kicking up a large cloud of dust behind her. Ponies cried out in alarm and fled, desperate to not become roadkill, as anyone who spent a single day in the small village would learn two things.
One, that Scootaloo took no survivors, and two, the only way to avoid becoming yet another notch on the underside of her scooter was to run for dear life.
Scootaloo swerved back and forth through the crowd, frantically looking over her shoulder as she raced through the streets. This wasn't one of her usual games where she'd run over innocent ponies in an attempt to get her vehicular ponyslaughter cutie mark.
No... she was on the run.
Those fortunate enough to evade the orange filly flooded back into the streets and looked on. Those who were not as experienced wept for themselves and those who weren't fortunate enough to escape, a couple of them standing or sitting in a puddle of their own urine. Others who were used to Scootaloo's merciless sprees looked on in despair, knowing that she would return soon and take more lives.
However, a few of the experienced ponies scratched their heads in confusion. They knew that something was up.
"OUT OF MEIN WAY!"
The ponies in the street looked towards the source of the shout and spotted a man dressed in a black uniform that'd make Rarity cream herself on the spot sprinting towards them, cussing and screaming at them in a language nobody could quite understand as he charged the crowd like a raging bull.
"OH MY CELESTIA! IT'S FUCKING HITLER! EVERYPONY RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"
Once again, the ponies scattered, some slipping in the urine produced by the least experienced ponies in the crowd. The Fuehrer didn't bother to weave his way through the crowd, choosing to instead trample anyone unfortunate enough to stand in his way. He didn't care, he had a mission. If he failed his mission, the Jews would win, and that would be unacceptable.
Further up the street, Scootaloo found herself nearing the outskirts of the town. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed she was losing her pursuer.
Feeling triumphant, she hung a right and stopped in an empty alley way, allowing herself to catch her breath and let out a sigh of relief.
It had taken her almost forever, but she successfully managed to evade that crazy man.
Suddenly, she found herself being lifted off her scooter and into the air.
"Hey!" she protested, flailing about in the air.
Hitler placed her down on the ground and patted her on the head like a good dog, before hopping onto the scooter that was much too small for him.
"Dis ist mein now," he stated.
"No way! Give it back!" the filly cried.
"Nein."
Her eyes brimming with hot tears, the young Pegasus cried out in anger and charged the Fuehrer. However, before she could close the distance between the two of them, he kicked off the ground and scooted away.
As she watched Hitler disappear with her prized scooter into the sunset, she fell to the ground, weeping for her loss.
Doing the only thing she could do in her situation, she looked towards the heavens and cried out.
"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!"
Lieutenant Aldo Raine lounged around on his front porch, casually sipping away at a glass of fine bourbon. He watched the ponies who inhabited this so called peaceful town ran around in a panic throughout the city.
His adopted daughter must've been at work again.
He wanted to sit back and laugh at the town's inhabitants running about like beheaded chickens, but something held him back. Something was really off about today.
His Nazi senses have been tingling all day long, and they were never wrong.
"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!"
In a moment, he was off his recliner and scanning the horizon for his beloved chicken. He spotted her sprinting towards the house down the street.
It wasn't long before she reached the porch and looked up to him with tear stained eyes.
"What's wrong, baby doll?" he asked, kneeling down to take his weeping chicken into his arms.
She buried her face into his chest and mumbled something into it.
"Darlin', my chest don't have any ears."
Scootaloo pulled away from her father and looked up at him.
"Nazis stole my scooter, dad."
"Hmm... I knew my Nazi senses weren't off. Did you hunt them down and scalp them like I taught ya to?"
The orange filly looked off to the side, her ears falling flat. "No... they got away... that's why I came back here for help"
"Darlin', you can't rely on me to solve your problems. One day, I will die, likely in some during some heroic action involving me saving the princesses from a gang of mutant possums, and you'll need to take care of your own problems."
He placed the filly down and stood back up.
"Now run along, younglin', and don't come back without your scooter and the scalps of your enemies. Remember, no prisoners."
As he turned around and began to make his way back into the house, he heard his daughter protest.
"But dad!"
"No buts, hun! Now get!"
"It was Hitler! Hitler stole my scooter!"
The man blinked, taking in this new information.
He approached his adopted daughter and knelt beside her, coming to eye level with her.
"...did you just say... Hitler?"
She nodded slowly in response.
A large shiteating grin spread across Aldo's face.
"Well that changes things, Scoots."
"Oy vey!" an amberish gray, red maned filly cried out as she was run down by Hitler. He laughed maniacally as he raced through the halls of Ponyville's synagogue, running over ponies left and right without mercy.
For some reason, though, everypony cheered when he ran over the last filly.
Then again, Hitler doubted anybody could like a filly like that. Not even her fellow Jews.
While Hitler scooted about, running down ponies without a care in the world, the front doors to the synagogue burst open, and in marched Scootaloo and Lieutenant Aldo Raine.
The Fuehrer scooted towards the two, not noticing them as he made a few more ponies roadkill.
Taking notice of this, Aldo stood there, waiting for Hitler to pass by. As he the Fuehrer began to pass by, the man walked forward and simply pushed him off the ground.
"Nein!" Hitler cried out in shock as he lost his balance and fell to the ground.
As the Nazi fell, the Lieutenant turned towards his daughter, and dropped a knife before her.
"You owe me a scalp, Scoots," he said with a smile.
The orange filly returned her father's smile and picked up the knife, before slowly stalking towards her prey.
Hitler groaned in pain and began to pick himself up the ground. He looked over his shoulder and spotted the orange pegasus from earlier approaching him, armed with a knife.
"NEIN!" he exclaimed in fear. The Fuehrer began to crawl away from the filly, only to be kicked in the stomach with enough force to send him flying into a nearby wall.
"Now where do you think you're going?" Aldo inquired, approaching the fallen Austrian and slamming his foot down on his stomach, pinning him under his boot, "you're not going anywhere after running down all these here innocent ponies... and that one filly nobody cares about..."
"Nein! Have mercy!"
The American answered his cries for mercy with a nasty kick to the face, before turning back to his adoptive daughter. "Go on darlin', do your thing."
The Fuehrer's cries for mercy went unheard as Scootaloo approached him, her knife at the ready. She climbed on top of the man, who had now began to break down in tears, and looked him in the eyes, her eyes burning with a hatred fury.
"You took my scooter... I'm going to take your life..."
"Oy vey, so cheesy," one of the survivors of Hitler's killing spree commented.
It was pretty fucking cliche. But Scootaloo didn't care.
She cared about only two things; getting revenge, and making her dad happy.
"MEIN GOTT!" he cried just as Scootaloo brought the knife down on him, stabbing it through his temple. He went limp, as an unrealistic amount of blood flooded out of the wound, typical of a Quentin Tarantino movie.
Now... it was time to collect her trophy.
Aldo Raine looked on with a proud smile as he watched his daughter, his little chicken, slice away at the Nazi's scalp. A wave of pride washed through him as he watched this.
It was truly father like daughter.
It wasn't long before the filly finished cutting away at the scalp and ripped it away from the corpse's head. She turned about face and brought it over to her father, placing it before him.
"I owe you a Nazi scalp, dad."
Her father knelt down and ruffled her mane affectionately, before picking up the scalp and examining it in the light.
"Very nice..." he commented, smiling, "this is one of the best scalps I've ever received."
He tucked it in his pocket and picked up his daughter, placing her on his shoulders.
"Come on baby doll, let's go get you some ice cream."
"Oh boy!" she exclaimed excitedly.
The two of them walked out of the synagogue, leaving behind destruction in their wake.
And everyone lived happily ever after.
...except Spike... who died of superAIDs later that day.
