Discord on Diaper Duty

by CatFlash

Rating: teen
Tags: Cake Twins, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Discord
Length: 1148

When the Mane Six are out of town saving Equestria, the Cakes ask Discord as a last resort to babysit the twins. When you have Discord around, you of course never know what will happen.

When the Mane Six are out of town saving Equestria, the Cakes ask Discord as a last resort to babysit the twins. When you have Discord around, you of course never know what will happen.

Thank you for reading. I took a break from my other story to write this and I hope you find it funny.

Published 2014-06-09 02:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-09 02:30:02 UTC

Chapter One

It had all started on a very nice, unpleasant day. Oh you have no idea how tempting it was to jumble up a few things that day in Ponyville.
Anywho, I was walking down the street, licking a very delicious, but melting icecream cone. In fact, it was my favorite kind; chocolate livertails with hot sauce, artichokes, and mint flavored hot fudge on top. Yummy indeed!
I was passing by Sugarcube Corner, and decided that I wanted more delicacies to be added to my towering and oh so tempting dessert.
The bell by the door let out a cheerful jingle as I casually strolled in, “accidentally” letting some of my ice cream drip onto the floor, so some unlucky pony might accidentally slip…
As I made my way to the counter, Mrs. Cake came out of nowhere and stopped me in my tracks.
“Please don’t kick me out,” I pleaded, “I promise I’ll clean the ice cream-”
She cut me off.
“Discord! Quiet! Aren’t you reformed now?”
I was surprised by her question.
“Why, yes I-”
“Can you handle some big responsibility?”
“Sure, but-”
“I can pay very well.”
“Deal. How mu-”
“One hundred bits?” she offered.
“How about as much candy and sweets as I want for a week?”
“Done.”
“What’s the job? Cooking delectably delicious goodies? Or is it eating the burnt cookies and brownies? Or how about-”
“Enough. You will be babysitting Pumpkin and Pound Cake.”
I stood shocked, not expecting this at all.
Mrs. Cake began to run around the store gathering things into her arms.
“You have to remember to change them when they wet their diapers, feed them, play with them, burp them, and put them down by eight sharp. I’m so sorry, but we couldn’t find anyone else, and Mr. Cake and I were supposed to leave for a baking convention five minutes ago.”
She stopped talking to run into the kitchen. Mrs. Cake returned moments later with her husband; together, they were carefully carrying a cake that had to be five feet tall on a gold platter.
As it passed by me, I licked my lips and was planning on sneaking a bit of frosting when Mrs. Cake’s eyes landed on me.
Instantly I stood up straight and began to examine my claws in a casual manner.
“Again, I’m so sorry. Pinkie is our usual sitter, but she and her friends are off somewhere doing something for the Princess.”
As she was going out the door, she shouted something to me that was incoherent.
The door slammed shut accompanied by the tinkle of that stupid bell.
Staring at the now closed door, disbelief filled my mind.
Of course I had never babysat before, and the idea of doing so was so very revolting. Little fillies and foals were immense neausenses.
“Shit.”

Chapter Three

“Ok, I think that’s enough…”
But the blasted little tots began to totter around advertising what they had learned.
“Shit-a! Fuka! Shit-a! Fucka! Shit-a!”
I summoned up a police man outfit and a barred cage.
“That is definitely enough! Hmf!”
Walking over to them, I picked the fillies up by their scruffs and plopped them into the cage.
Slamming the door shut, I began to cackle at them.
“Now who’s a fucking shit head? Ha!”
I was walking away when I heard a weird whoosh sound. I turned around to see the boy flying up out of the opened top cage.
A second later, the other thing followed.
“WHY?!?!” I screamed.
And so the great chase began.
It was filled with many “Shit-a’s”, and “Come here you little bastards!”
I have to admit, this job was the most tiring thing I have ever done.
First they zoomed through the air like little helicopters whizzing past my head and avoiding my madly swinging arms.
Then, they burst through the door to the rest of the house, cackling like mad.
Through bathrooms and bedrooms, hallways and all sorts of miscellaneous rooms I pursued the little assholes until I finally cornered them.
“Ha ha ha!” I laughed in triumph. “There’s nothing you can do now-”
But I was cut off by the noise of two very loud whoopee cushions exploding.
“Now, that’s very funny and all, but- oh!”
I realized they were not whoopee cushions at all.
A horrendous scent filled my nostrils and made me gag; the farts were like poisonous gas.
I knew then that that was the last straw.
“GHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”
I rushed through doors, not even noticing where I was going.
When I finally managed to burst outside, I turned left and ran as fast as I could.
A day later, I got the news while I was trying to relax in a spa.
The article stated that I- Discord, the most awesomely terrible- had been revoked of my title as Chaos King.
Instead, two pesky, little assholes in Ponyville were.
“Shit.”

Chapter Two

After pondering what to do, decided to suck it up, because I mean, who would pass up all you can eat chocolate?
Slowly, I began to walk towards the back of the store.
I reached the door that lead to the other half of the building where the Cakes live.
I willed myself to change into an officer’s uniform before walking in.
Pushing the heavy door open with a burst, I marched into the room.
The two twins looked up from their game of blocks and what ever the fuck they were doing to stare like idiots at me.
“Hem hem.” I began as I cleared my voice. “Listen up, little pea brains. I’m in this solely for the access to as much candy and shit as I want. All you need to do is sit there and do nothing, ok?”
The two weirdos looked at each other and burst out crying.
“Shut your butts! Jeesh!”
The only thing that that smart comment did was make them ball even harder.
I disappeared and reappeared in between them. Picking them up, one in each hand, I held them up to eye level.
“Please don’t make me put tape on your mouths.”
But of course, they kept crying.
“Fuckers.” I mumbled as I dropped them onto the ground unceremoniously.
I turned around and was about to go and read the Sexy Mare Magazine when I heard giggling.
Stopping, I slowly turned to face them.
I was about to use even more colorful language against them, when the little girl filly, at the time I was pretty sure her name was Punch Cake, opened her mouth.
“Fu-” she started.
And her brother finished for her.
“-ka!”
Again, they began to laugh.
I groaned and sank to my knees.
“Shit!” I swore again.
“Shit-a!” they repeated.
I knew I was in deep trouble, or according to the asses I was supervising, I was in deep, deep shit-a.