You could help the helpless, but you don't really care.

by mazikeen

Rating: mature
Tags: Random
Length: 996

Starting with a rhyme about the day Celestia tires of ponies. Then a segment for Rarity's health. Lastly, you starring in an epilogue.

Starting with a rhyme about the day Celestia tires of ponies.
Then a segment for Rarity's health.
Lastly, you starring in an epilogue.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-31 23:00:03 UTC

Neither do I

Centuries and millennia lived, many things done

A kingdom built and joyful memories won

Indeed, Princess Celestia is a mare most satisfied

yet often she could not help but wonder

about the stranger things she’d not yet tried

To miss out, she considered, would be a big blunder

for what really is the point of life

if you can’t have a laugh while causing some strife

And it was these happy thoughts in her head

that spurred her on to get out bed

With a huff and a puff, she made to decide

she was going have fun with her ponies even if they cried

She went to her throne, and that was the spot

where she first sat her fat royal plot

In came her subjects to make their requests

with no idea that today this wouldn’t be best

A peasant stallion was the first to dare tread

“The weather’s too hot,” that’s what he said

“Your sun killed my crops and it’s turning me red

Please tone it down or I’ll soon be dead”

The princess considered, and thought

An appropriate answer being what she sought

“you’re stupid and filthy, head an odd shape

for these crimes I declare a punishment of rape”

Next up was a couple in a bit of a quarrel

The mare explained her husband’s a drunk

who forced her to give oral

the stallion spoke up, “All lies, don’t you believe this bunk!

What really happened is she wanted it up the trunk

And I said that was gross so she cut off my junk

I replaced it with Weet-Bix”

But Celestia’s a bitch and so she said,

“I hereby decree, off with your head!”

And this was fun, but only a bit

for the hole in her heart, it was a bad fit

However the princess did not grow forlorn,

Instead she pierced a guard with her horn

His eye put out, blood like a spout

He flailed about as if he’s a trout

Then she turned to another with words of turmoil,

and cast a silly spell to make his stupid head spoil

Seeing their queen turn on them as said

the room soon emptied, the ponies fled

They were afraid, they wanted no part in this fun

She did not chase, she let them run

A greater plan took hold

something increasingly bold

and she knew what she really wanted to do

Unleash cosmic horrors and start the world anew!

She summoned an army strange, vast, and grand

from the scariest Shegthar to the shyest Vyzand

Celestia set them forth upon the land

and thought of the matter next at hand

Onward to Ponyville she flew

where Twilight Sparkle she knew

would be the only able to stop her

unless she could convince the little cur

by some chance to stay student and teacher

The unicorn someday her successor

So she came upon the library

and made an offer gilded in ivory

To the unicorn she said, a world shared and nothing less

what would you expect from a princess?

Twilight was tempted but had to refuse

An offer so grave she was too scared to choose

“That’s not very nice

I don’t like what you’ve done

I can see you have lice

I’ll say friendship has won”

“Life doesn’t do that, don’t be naive

now is your chance, say you believe”

The unicorn refused and left her no choice

“To the sun!” was what came next from her voice

So went the poor purple pony

and in the flames too her dragon crony

And with the two gone

Celestia was free to move on

She lived happily ever after and all was well

The whole ordeal had been really quite swell

So let this be a lesson to follow your heart

even if it involves tearing others apart

Not for long

From time to time you remember yourself. The old things long gone. From time to time you look up from your gutter and see the ponies passing by. Most endeavor to avoid you. As typical. Never to mind, you watch them trot. You watch them trot or stop or trot again. You neither trot nor stop. On some occasions it begins to look enjoyable. And so you, twig in the wind, get the thought in your head it might be enjoyable to trot as well. But you are on your belly. So reaching forth a hoof you then drag yourself in the mud. Only a small while. Only a small while before you have your fill of it. Then it is relinquished and face drops once more into the mud. And it is decided trotting is not as enjoyable as so looked. Until next occasion you look up and see ponies trotting.

It could span a thousand years

Rarity is not much. She’ll live to the death. Good pony burns out both ends. Not that there was a candle. Her table is bare. Womb little better. Moment of honesty, it’s an eyesore. There is no way to better. She’ll end with blood on her hooves. Take bad with worse. Split them down the middle. Right down the wretched abdomen. Rarity likes to watch them spill their guts. Not much for hers. She knows there is little difference. Easily her instead, when all are mites. She’ll still mock them. Nothing even burns. Only dwindles out of notice. Still half the fun. Even if she’s only a girl. Last she checked. No one understands. She’ll kill the neighbors anyhow. What else is left. To bring out the superiority. Friendship makes it all complete. When all are swaying in the breeze. All legs borrowed. No excuse for a human being. What matter. It’s all equally nothing. Rarity has stitched her arguments together diligently. Hooves are always sore. Don’t look out the window. There goes my beautiful world. Like the tears of a farting unicorn. Rarity ruins everything. It makes her smile.