CRIMINAL

by The Orange Nebula

Rating: mature
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Spike, Comedy, Random
Length: 1020

Spike Fucks Shit Up

What if Spike hated the world, hated everypony. What if all he wanted was the sweet taste of blood, the smell of money, the desire to kill.

Fic is not meant to be taken seriously.

Published 2014-08-22 05:50:06 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-22 05:50:06 UTC

CRIMINAL

It’s a crazed feeling when shooting a gun. Like an explosion of adrenaline, the world kneeling for you, your boot stomping in his stupid fucking face. Shit, bitches give me them looks, hood draping, windows tinted, no connections, no love, no friends, doesn’t fucking matter. Got my joints, doe, and a shit ton of time on my claws. The fuck should I care about a world full of damned pastel equines? Things are like rag dolls, lifeless toys with big ole cute eyes and sexy ass plots.

Fuck, I’m the only damn thing with a dragon dick in this place. Being alone, it’s painful, squeeze some lemon juice in my eyes and chop my balls off if that’s what it takes to actually screw something.

My childhood… was that even a thing? I forgot. Coddled by stupid ass horses. Like a chimp suckling the nips of a hippo, shit doesn’t work. Glad I haven’t looked back on those days, it’s all about the future, my future, how I’m gonna change it, meld it, fuck it up. Well, it’s already been fucked to nonexistence. Got about twenty grand on my head, swimming in debt, live in some crap motel, and the po po sure as hell haven’t forgot about all the shit I’ve done.

I don’t know when it started, and don’t ask me stupid ass questions like that. Maybe that time I walked out a gas station with a stick of gum in my pocket, or maybe the day I socked that dude with the funny eye. I don’t know, but I do love the way it all turned out. The freedom, the blissfulness. No responsibility, no worries in this bleak world, just me, myself, and I.

If I wanna smoke weed, I do it, if I wanna screw some lifeless hooker, I do it, if I wanna rob the First National Equestrian Bank, I do it. Walk in broke and leave rich.

Little things tip me off, throw bricks at my head and break bones. Found a pubic hair in my eggs one time. Stopped the waitress behind the café. Didn’t feel a thing as I watched her brains splatter all over the place. Bitch wouldn’t stop whining about some kids she has. Some sweet little colt and innocent filly. Shame, shit will be hard on them.

Eh, not my problem.

By far my happiest moment was leaving mom, stupid slut she was. Always talked bout’ my charming personality, happiness. I wonder if I was actually her kid. Forgot her name… named after some gay vampire movie I think. Saw that film once, snagged a few wallets and brought home some nice mare who wouldn’t mind getting a little dragon head.

Slut didn’t make it back after asking for her money. Slapped that hoe. She flipped. Slaps came to punches and I wasn’t laughing anymore. She wrote murder by the time my claw was clutching her throat. I forget where I stored her, some dumpster somewhere. Sluts are easy pickings anyways.

All in all, was a good day.

One time, was chasing this dealer of mine, turned his back on me, talking about needing to quit the business to tend for his sick mother. Now you don’t wanna be around me when I can’t get my dope. Things escalated to a foot chase. Found ourselves on the rooftop of some school. Ponies never had the will power of a dragon, so guy pulls a gun. Take a cap to the shoulder.

I fire back, cops swarming up to the roof. Guy jumps, breaks his spine and both hind legs. He deserved it, won’t be caring much for his mother now anyways.

Barley made it outta there, climbing down the gutter. I couldn’t help but chuckle just a bit as the cops surrounded the dealer’s mangled body. Wish I could walk over there, take a nice, steaming piss on that fucker.

Where was I… oh yeah, my life. Oh, this one time I got these tickets to a Wonderbolt flight show. Heard of the group, never cared much. Just got away with a few casual break-ins, so I thought I’d treat myself. The show was a waste. Over ecstatic assholes squealing like damn road-kill on the verge of fucking death. I’m about to leave when I spot this rainbow mane chick running towards me.

FUCK!

“Spike!” she yelled, “It’s been ages, how are you?”

“Fine.” I puffed a cloud of smoke in her face. She stormed off, I followed. Safe to say she put up a fight in the rear of the arena. Bitch is fast as all hell. Took a few caps to the legs to shut her up. That slut, felt great to shoot her, one of those who demented that so called childhood of mine.

My morals fell to shit by the time she was outta my life. Well she’s back, and she’s mine.

I set the ransom pretty damn high. Keeping her all cooped up in my closet was not easy, but I manage. Bitch is tougher than nails, raw like stinking meat, swarmed in flies, rougher than sandpaper. I liked that… like that a lot. Only made it more fun when I dropped her from the window of my motel, wings tied.

They found her the next day, I didn’t need the ransom, I got what I wanted, that tomboy slut is dead, and I’m happy.

I get older day by day, frailer and frailer, yet I still live the same way as ever. Fucking hoes and stealing shit. I don’t classify myself as a killer, scum, rancid piece of trash that should be tossed in the nearest dump.

I love that feeling when my face has been plastered all over town. “WANTED FOR MURDER, THEFT, AND RAPE!”

Makes me smile, makes me know I’m making a difference. A good difference? Fuck no. I’m no delusional aristocrat who assumes their actions help this world... cause mine don’t. I like turning good, smoldering it to rumble.

I’m no rapist, no killer, no asshole, no bloodthirsty fuck head.

I’m all those things.

I’m a criminal.