Day of the Bronies

by Cackothree

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Human, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Comedy, Other
Length: 1164

A parody of the MLP fanbase.

This fic's a little different than your usual fare. It's not a parody of the MLP universe, but the show's fanbase.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against bronies. Hell, I AM one. It's just that some of them tend to be a bit...weird.

Published 2012-04-05 01:54:03 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-05 01:54:03 UTC

Day of the Bronies

I stand in front of the door, waiting for the fiends to break through. My M-1 carbine is loaded and my

crowbar is slung on my belt.

I brush a greasy strand of hair out of my eyes. It has been six weeks since I barricaded myself in this

abandoned house. I haven’t bathed at all since the water was shut off. All my food is gone; I ate the last

can of baked beans a few hours ago.

I push an earplug deeper into my ear canal. The sound the creatures make is unearthly; a constant, soul-draining moan.

It’s enough to drive even the staunchest man insane. If it hadn’t been for my earplugs, I would’ve lost my mind

weeks ago.

The creatures hurl themselves against the reinforced door, pounding on it with their pale, sickly hands.

Made of stout oak and reinforced with 2x4’s, it has withstood their assaults for a week. Even so, it will not

protect me much longer. The creature’s ceaseless attacks have weakened it considerably. It's only a matter of time

before it gives.

Let them come.

Who do I fight, you ask?

Zombies?

Demons?

No, it’s something far worse:

Bronies.

-

A year ago, most males couldn’t have cared less about My Little Pony. It was a show about primary-colored

ponies and their mindless adventures in Horseland or whatever they called their inane world. The only

people interested in it where little girls and 40 year-olds with developmental issues. That is, until Lauren

Faust.

The creator of the Powerpuff Girls and Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, Faust was quite the women.

She was sick of the way girls were portrayed in cartoons; vapid, shallow brats with no interests outside of

fashion. When she saw My Little Pony, she saw a chance to change that. And My Little Pony: Friendship is

Magic was born. It was a show about a purple unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, and her friends AppleJack,

Fluttershy, Rainbow dash, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity.

At first the show was virtually unknown outside its target audience. Then, somehow, the infamous image

board 4chan got wind of the show. To everyone’s surprise, they liked it. The show began to attract a new

audience: 20-30 year old males. They called themselves Bronies.

At first Bronies seemed harmless, even comical. They’d buy AppleJack and Fluttershy My Little

Pony figures and play with them. They’d wear Rainbow Dash T-shirts and hoodies, and at the end of the

day they’d sleep on Twilight Sparkle bed sheets while cuddling a plushie. Weird, but harmless.

Then things started getting creepy. People all over the world began swarming to the show in increasing

numbers. The ranks of the bronies swelled; within a year, roughly half the planet was watching the show.

Then there was that meteorite shower on the night of the show’s fourth season premiere. That strange,

sparkling meteorite shower…

-

Crack!

A large crack split’s the door in two.

I aim down the sights of my carbine. From what I’ve heard over the radio, the only way to kill a brony is to

destroy the brain; a task at which the M-1 excels.

One of the bronies manages to worm his way in through the damaged door. Like most of his kind, he wears

jeans and a Rainbow Dash T-shirt, both stained and torn. Pony figurines dangle from his body like tribal

fetishes. His skin is waxy and pale and his hair is a greasy, tangled mess. He smells like death itself.

“join us”

I raise an eyebrow. He spoke. I didn’t know they could speak.

The other bronies join in:

“join us.”

“JOIN US!”

“Join US!”

“Like Hell I will!” I draw a bead on the nearest Brony and fire. The M-1 bucks; the Brony’s head explodes

in a spray of meat and bone. I take aim at another brony. His head bursts like a rotten piñata. The headless

bodies slump to the ground like sacks of potatoes.

The door finally gives way. The bronies slowly shuffle into my house.

“JOIN US!”

“SHADDUP!” I yell, firing into the hoard. By now I am operating solely on instinct. Aim, fire. Aim, fire,

aim, fire, reload, fire. Bronies drop left and right, the survivors stumbling over their corpses. By now the

house is filled with the vile things. For every one I drop, two more take his place.

I fire my last shot. A brony lunges at me, trying to pin me down. I bash his skull in with the butt of my rifle,

then toss the useless weapon aside. I draw the crowbar from my belt, its pronged edge thirsting for blood.

I let out a primal yell, more animal than human, and charge the horde.

Bronies crowd in around me like fans in a mosh pit. I mow through them with my crowbar, smashing open

brony skulls like rotting eggs. I’ve gone completely feral now. The few scraps of civilization I’d managed

to retain over the past weeks, my morals, my skills, and other niceties, are replaced by a raw, animalistic

drive.

By now, the floor is covered in a carpet of corpses and coagulated blood. I stand on a pile of brony corpses,

bashing any that get too close. Liquid fire flows through my veins. I fell bronies left and right; an avenging

angel smiting the unclean. Still they keep coming.

A brony lunges at me; I block his blow with the crowbar, then ram the sharpened claw into his rotting eye.

Another brony tries to fling a Twilight Sparkle bed sheet over me. I swat the bed sheet aside and turn his

cranium into a cereal bowl.

“KEEP SENDING THEM IN!” I roar to the bronies unseen master, “I’ll KILL THEM ALL!”

After an eternity of fighting, the horde begins to wear me down. My swings become slower and clumsier.

The fire in my veins has cooled. My adrenalin reserves are all but drained. Still the bronies come, stumbling

over heaps of their own dead.

A brony carrying a Twilight Sparkle plushie lunges at me. I swing at him and miss. Another brony grabs my

arm and flings me face-first against a wall. My teeth snap with a chalk-like

crack.

Before I can move, a brony flips me over and pins me down. Another walks up carrying a Rainbow Dash

hoodie. He slips it over my head. Strange, alien thoughts fill my brain; Images of colorful ponies and

fantastic creatures. Bizarre sounds and sights.

The bronies release me. I writhe on the ground, clawing at my skull.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

The images began to worm their way into my conscious. Memories are warped beyond recognition.

Emotions disappear. My free will slowly dissolves.

Before my mind is completely overridden, I hear something; a cheerful, upbeat song..

“My Little Pony, My Little Pony. Ah, ah, ah, ah…..”

-

Princess Celestia turned off the monitor. A devious smile spread across her angelic face.

“Welcome to the Herd.”