LON-LON
Step One: Drop Acid
“LON-LON!” Bon-Bon said in a strained, drawn out tone as she stirs the already steamy pot of the creamy white delight.
“LON-LON! LON… LON-LON!”
“What is she doing now?” a voice from the nether reaches announces with an even more strained exasperated tone, her voice rattling the candy foundation right down to the peppermint sticks.
“LON-LON,” demanded the filly as she put her rounded marshmallow-like appendage in front of Bon-Bon’s field of vision. “LON...lon?”
Lyra groaned from afar. “Is she eating dirt from the floor again? She was pooping milk chocolate for weeks the last time she did that!”
The sounds of hoofsteps clip-clopping over to room where Bon-Bon stood fills her ears as she concentrates on stirring the delicious treat in her bonbon-shaped pot.
“Lyra, don’t give me mentally scarring images again!” she groaned, throwing her hooves up in the air. “Besides, I cleaned all of that for you while you sat and stuffed your hoof into your cavern because your favorite cellist decided to join the Canterlot Orchestra in playing the “Orgasm-concerto”.
“I just appreciate the music!” cried Lyra as she came into the room, pausing to note that LON-LON was now upon her back, attempting to devour her own small, marshmallow-like, tasty goodness of a hoof.
“NOM-NOM!” LON-LON said while gnawing on her hoof.
The anger inside Bon-Bon reaches its peak as she now knows that she can’t deal with the LONNING anymore. She turned to the foal, who is still nom-nomming on her hoof. “LON-LON!” Bon-Bon reprimanded as she put her own hoof in front of her daughter. “Stop doing that! We don’t need another horrifying realization that you’re addicted to eating yourself!”
Lyra muttered aside. “Well, I’d eat myself if I could…”
“LYRAAAA!” Bon-Bon said, attempting to power her LYRAAAAbeam 2.0 with explosive candificated features, now in HIGH DEFINITION only on channel NEIN.
“What? I’m just saying if I could I would. And besides, it’s not like she can understand what it is we are saying.” Lyra and Bon-Bon simultaneously to regard their daughter, to whom was drooling and writhing on the ground with half of her hoof in her mouth.
LON-LON looked down, perplexed. Her mother uses her hoof to jump in her own cavern? LON-LON takes her marshmallow hoof and swiftly places it upon thy creme entrance.
Bon-Bon glared at Lyra due to seeing her daughter beginning to mirror the description Lyra described. “She can’t understand?” Her voice becoming increasingly irate. “Our daughter is practically hoofing herself with marshmallowy intent!”
Lyra’s eyes widen. “All she needs is some chocolate,” Lyra began, throwing her hoof up to the heavens. “That way, she’d be the perfect candidate for making our s'mores.”
Bon-Bon back hoofed Lyra upside the head. “That’s incest!”
“Heeeeeeey, she’s practically… half candy… candiest? Is that even a crime?”
“LON-LON!” The voice of the one being argued about finally speaks its mind. “Lon...LON!”
Lyra sighed as she picked up the filly who has not yet entered ‘the new realm’. “Look, I’ll fix this honey,” she began as she cradled her sweet daughter. “I’ll go put her to bed just so she doesn’t star-”
“LYRAAAA!” Bon-Bon moaned out, still stirring that pot of questionable goodness. “You don’t want to be alone! That gives her ample time to finish the deed!”
“LON-LON… Lon…. LONNnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.”
It is time.
Bon-Bon swiftly gathers herself with the pot still in hoof, she throws two awkwardly sized bowls into the air and with the agility of two angry squirrels fighting over a particularly hard nut that may had been a distinct relative of Screwball, she lands the hot, steamy, white sloppy goodness into the bowls, the splashy liquid filling the mold of the bowls, settling down into its’ depths.
“She’s hungry,” Bon-Bon stated to the much, slack jawed Lyra, who couldn’t believe that her marefriend did a backflip when she landed. “I took it too far, didn’t I?”
“You think?” Lyra said in disbelief while the filly in her grasp started squishing her hooves together and squeaking like a chew toy. Lyra trots over to her marefriend with the ‘package’ safely secured in her tight grasp. She delivers said package and suddenly floats away into oblivion, startling Bon-Bon into thinking her marefriend has gone into the chifforobe.
LON-LON’s eyes glowed a momentary white, before fading into a deep dark crimson, the liquid seeping from her eye sockets to seep down her muzzle, where she promptly lapped away with a rather large, slithery tongue made of trembling jello.
“LON-LON,” said LON-LON, the strawberry yogurt pouring from her eyes ceasing its flow before her eyelids blinked and her eyes returned to their usual, dazzling gold coloured eyes.
“Well that was anti-climatic,” Bon-Bon uttered as she stood silently with this… confused, demonic, candy-crazed filly in her fore hooves. “What more could happen?”
As if Celestia heard her call, Lyra swoops back in from an awkward corner of the room, holding a broom the size of Celestia’s horn in her grasp. “Bon-Bon!” She shouted excitedly.
Bon-Bon looked over at her just-as-crazed marefriend. “LYRAAAA?”
Lyra looks up at her, holding a well-rounded sphere in her opposite fore hoof. What made her go, “WHAT?” was the fact that she saw wings fluttering rapidly on the sphere. “What are you holding in your left forehoof there, LYRAAAA?”
Lyra raises an eyebrow. “You’ve never heard of Quidditch?”
“Lyraaaa!”
“Bon-Bon!”
“LON-LON!”
Both mares stare at the filly with irritated glares. “LON-LON!” both mares chimed.
From the corner of the room, a small, yellow mouse skittered from out of a tiny door. “Pikachu!” the mouse squeaked before it exploded into a flurry of confetti and gore, leaving trails of sparks in its explosive wake.
From the heavens above, a voice is heard.
FATALITY.
The two mares just stared at the corner of the room, jaws reaching the chequered coloured carpeted floors in mere seconds, frozen in time. The other occupant of the house squeaked rather loudly at this development, now creating a new schema to accommodate the new creature she saw.
It was a dog.
Both finally looked at each other, blinking.
“Ever got the feeling things have turned strange since LON-LON was born?” Bon-Bon inquired as she stared at Lyra.
Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we strange?”
Bon-Bon facehooved. “That’s not what I meant.”
LON-LON facehooved too, the marshmallow hoof squishing against to her muzzle.
LON-LON licked it, then offered it to the unexpected mouth of Bon-Bon.
“LOAH-L—” she said before her whole mouth engulfed the marshmallow in one whole sweep.
“Holy crap! I knew you could fit quite a bit in there but that’s quite a lot!” Lyra gawked in amazement.
Bon-Bon’s eyebrows practically furrowed before slanting down like a very steep slow on a mountain. She attempted to speak, but remembered the tasty intruder in her mouth. She sighed, remembering the other intruder she had last night. She moaned from the sheer thought of the memory.
Lyra looked at her marefriend in shock. “Are you okay?”
LON-LON pulled her hoof out of her mother’s mouth due to the thought of her mother eating her hoof. She looked over to her other mother from another mother. She cried out in desperation of life, “LOOOOOOOON-LOOOOOOON!”
“BOOOOOON-BOOOOOON!”
A rift in space and time opened up above their heads, allowing the smoking husk of a pony to fall from the ether and onto the table to which sent the bowl of creamy white goodness in all directions, sputtering the mares in a shower of a rather suggestive method best known for in most ClopONese adult videos.
All three, stunned, regarded the wrecked table as their milky white substance dribbled from their muzzles.
Up from the debris stood an imposing figure that regarded both of the mares with a rather angry expression.
The red and black alicorn growled. “Why am I in this fanfic?”
“Because you are a faggot, anon!” yelled a rather happy, cheery voice from the rift. That said voice fired off its cannon, opening up a rift to another realm filled with red and black alicorns that couldn’t be used anymore due to the fact that Celestia banned them from ever entering Equestria ever again.
“What’s a... faggot?” Lyra asked her marefriend.
“Faggot,” squeaked LON-LON.
With that, the two mares groaned.
They were now faggots that mixed with those shiny, white sticks.
