Fluttershy the Racist Stole my Heart

Chapters

Chapter 2: The CMC are Spooky Scary Skeletons
Chapter 5: Maybe This Crazy Lady Knows of the Racist?
Chapter 6: Dialogues with a Hillbilly Girl
Chapter 7: Another Important Message
Chapter 8: The Home of a Racist.
Chapter 9: Fluttershy Gets Rarity's Advice
Chapter 10: No More Racism!
Chapter 1: The Yellow Bus Racist is Cute
Chapter 3: An Important Message
Chapter 4: Planning to Find a Racist

Chapter 2: The CMC are Spooky Scary Skeletons

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Chapter 5: Maybe This Crazy Lady Knows of the Racist?

So I start investigating around my town but everyone’s being a real jerk today because nobody seems to know jack about anything. I knew that if I wanted to find out about that cute racist, I’d have to really dig down in the powers of my spleen and investigate. But the problem here is that I can’t afford to waste any time because nobody knows what could happen tomorrow. I could just look outside my bedroom window and see a green face and start puking all over the place and not get out from under the covers at all because of it’s stun beams.

So I go to the home of one Connie S. Piracy, the lady who gave me my copy of an informative instruction manual about how to deal with ghosts/aliens titled Ghosts/Aliens. I mean, she knows pretty much literally everything, and I probably wouldn’t still be alive if it wasn’t for her.

When I get to her home I knock on the front door of her little shack and it opens a crack.

“Yes?”

“Yo, I really need your help.”

“Mm hmm.” She then shut the door and I heard a bunch of rattling chains and eventually it opened wide. “Step inside.”

So I step inside. Immediately I hear the sound of crumpled up papers under hoof, I see the walls lined up with diagrams over egg cartons over plain wood, and I know, yeah, this is her house.

“Whatever it is, just remember you still have to lay low from hospitals.”

She’s referring to this little incident I had. “Pfft, that was forever ago!”

“It was last week.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, even.”

“The guards found you nearby with a cart full of boxes of matches.”

“Yeah, but it was only, like, two.”

“It was seventy boxes of 100 matches each.”

“Nobody got hurt.”

“Do you still have feeling in your legs yet?”

“They’re still sore, but that’s what they get for being lame jerks!”

Alright, so I get a look of her hair getting much more frizzled than usual, which takes a real dexterous eye to see given that she basically has dreads. This means that she’s getting pretty annoyed. Believe me, when she gets annoyed she bites. Literally.

“Sorry, miss.”

“So what’s your plan?” She asked, silently forgiving my transgression.

I take a deep breath and just get on with it. “Alright, so there’s this hot chick I met on the bus and I really need to see her again.”

“Okay. Simple enough.” See, that’s why I went to her. She’s chill. “So, what do you know?”

“She’s a yellow pegasus. She’s got blue eyes, pink hair, and her cutie mark is three butterflies.”

“Ah,” She said, getting back to her table and scavenging through piles and piles of collected newspapers and magazines. “That girl’s been in the news a lot lately. I think her name is Thunder Thighs or Shuttle Pie.”

“Also, she’s a racist.”

She stops dead in her tracks and just turns to me. “You will tell me everything you know about this, right now.” So I spend the next several minutes explaining my situation and then she goes “Mm hmm.” She then goes back to scraping around various texts on her work table.

“I’m still going to try and hit on her, she’s crazy hot!”

“Mm hmm. Just make sure to be careful. Ponyville’s basically been the hub to a number of bizarre activities, ever since our new ‘princess’ moved in.” She said, placing a particularly nasally emphasis on “princess.”

“What are you saying?”

“Me? I’m not saying a thing. I’m just bringing up that it’s odd that a dragon invasion, a racing event involving a number of birds and a tortoise, and the arrival of Nightmare Moon then turning into Princess Luna happened after one pony, as selected by Princess Celestia, moved in. In fact,” She began, moving over to an elaborately decorated flat board of wood hanging on the wall with numerous tacks, colored strings, and photos attached to it. “The number of incidents occurring in this one specific locale and subsequently involving her or her direct associates has increased substantially over the past few years. This is so odd, that I’d throw out the assumption it is simply coincidence!”

Yeah. You’ll never be caught in this position, but if you are then you have two options to weigh: Interrupt her and risk facing her dental wrath or just listen to her for about half a day. I didn’t have half a day to waste.

“That’s totally not wrong. Maybe this Butter Float chick can help?”

“Oh,” She was not lunging at me. This is a good sign. “She’s named Fluttershy and her exact location is something privy mostly to her friends and Princess Luna. I’d recommend you investigate Sweet Apple Acres for a pony named Applejack, she should know of this.”

“But that’s so far away! Can’t I just visit the princess?”

“Don’t. Just stay clear from her, she obliterated a schoolhouse last week. Which also brings me to my next point,” And again she went to the board. “Princess Luna went on a rampage with a foreign device that fired projectiles at high velocities last week. After her warpath was quelled, there was the appearance of this so called ‘Machine Gun Mare.’ Now, I’m not saying they’re one in the same, but they’re awful similar. What do you think?”

I was gone.

Author's Note

I think we've all had that moment where we say at one point in our lives, our legs have been jerks to us.

Chapter 6: Dialogues with a Hillbilly Girl

It took me basically forever to get to Sweet Apple Acres, which is bullcorn. I was going to take the bus, but the chances of another hot chick also riding on it would be phenomenal and I want to really stay focused. Worst. Decision. Ever.

So after I passed out from exhaustion next to a fence, I awoke to find myself being stared at by a chicken who was right in front of me. My first thought was that it was my spirit animal trying to make me understand the meaning of life, so I started throwing sticks at it. But it totally deserved it because it was being so smug.

Eventually I got tackled by this hillbilly girl in a hat and she started shaking me violently.

“The hay do you think you’re doing to our chickens?”

She was mad heavy so escape was not an option. I was forced to talk

“The chicken started it! Look at it, mocking us!”

We both looked to the side to see the chicken just standing there, staring at us. It was plotting some dark stuff I bet.

“Beg your pardon, but are you a few eggs short of a carton?” She asked and let me go.

Luckily I am fluent in hillbilly linguistics, so I was able to tell what she was saying. “I come in peace. I,” I said, pointing at myself. “Want to speak with Applejack. Do you,” I pointed at her, “Know where she is?”

She raised her eyebrow. Clearly I was too advanced in my way of speaking for her. But I guess she interpreted it close enough to understand what I was saying.

“Yes, I am she. You’re not one of them slow fellas, are you?”

Obviously she didn’t see me run all the way to here.

“Yo, tight. Alright, so tell me where Fluttershy lives.”

Still she gave me the raised eyebrow. Dang, I must’ve screwed up her face with my dormant psychic powers. This didn’t keep her from speaking, though. “First off, you best explain yourself.”

“Look, there are forces beyond your comprehension at hoof here, so shut up and tell me where she is.”

Finally her face unfroze. “Listen, I’m not going to say anything until I get some answers. How do I know you’re not dangerous?”

Alright, so if I act fast enough I can grab the chicken and throw it at her. But that might mean it’ll probably lash out with whatever sinister plot it has, so I put a pin in that plan. “Don’t worry, I’m totally chill.”

“Pardon?” She asked and then shook her head. “Ah, ferget it. How do you even know Fluttershy?”

“We met on the bus. She totes digs me.”

She took her hat off and began to scratch at her head. “Uh, well alright I guess. But you best not start any trouble, or you’ll have a big problem, got it?”

“Word.”

“And by the way, I know it ain’t my place to criticize but you mind working on how you talk? It’s a mite on the weird side. Anyhoo, just follow the path to the Everfree Forest and you’ll see a cottage nearby, that’d be her house.”

“Seeya later, alligator!” I yelled out and ran away. But not before I threw a rock right at her knee. “Served!”

You’re gonna pay for that!” She said as she gave chase, amazing able to keep up with me. “Get back here you nasty varmint!”

Oh man, just another day of women chasing me. Yeah, nopony can resist me.

Author's Note

Chickens are always plotting dark stuff. They're basically running a conspiracy to try and overthrow mankind as the top manufactures of awesomeness.

Chapter 7: Another Important Message

I can’t keep going, there’s something very important I have to get off my chest.

Gaz, remember that time you passed by my window several minutes before you were supposed to arrive? Yeah, I trust your eyesight and reasoning skills, but it’s clear you’ve come to the wrong conclusion and assumed something that was totally not happening. Like, you might’ve thought I was playing with little babby dollies, but you’d be wrong!

Now look, I can’t expect you to believe me right away but just hear me out, I know you’re chill so you totally will.

So I got home, right? And all of a sudden I see these two little dolls on the ground, so I go over to them and I’m about to throw them into a fire when all of a sudden they start talking.

“Take us to your leader!” One said. Man, it was such bullcorn! And I know you’re getting as mad as I am right now, because nobody should have be talked to by little dollies like that.

So I’m about to go full combat mode and start scratching at them with my hooves, but they totally shot some stupid paralysis laser at me. Luckily, because I read Ghosts/Aliens, I was prepared for this and I started thinking of a little purple boatie with a little red bowtie. Man, they got sick confused from this.

While they were startled and being like “Dude, this guy is mad crazy. Let’s bail.” I grab them up and start slamming them together. So that explains that.

I can also explain the smooching sounds. You see, my lips were really dry so I was just going “Muah muah muah” to try and keep them from chapping. So just drop it already, I wasn’t playing with little filly dolls.

Author's Note

Are you tired of looking out a window and seeing a big stupid green face? Well get yourself a little locket with a picture of Little Richard. If you read Ghosts/Aliens, you'd know why.

Chapter 8: The Home of a Racist.

Alright, so because that hillbilly girl didn’t give me real directions, I winged it like nobody winged it before, and I don’t even have wings. I totally arrived after a few hours of searching without incident. But then an incident happened. I trotted up to this little cottage that was built into the hill or something and I knew that this Fluttershy chick must’ve been loaded! She’s got a million birdhouses all over the place, a bridge leading along the one path to her house, and a sick decorative pond. Man, if I knew she lived in such a radical house I would’ve burned my mom’s place to the ground years ago!

So I go up to the door and kick it right down. It’s about to be my place soon anyways, so there’s no reason not to just burst in like I own the joint, because I basically do! And man, the place smells like what I’d think a meatball factory would smell like, which is disgusting. I will have to ask Connie about what a meatball is, because it sounds like a really cool sport.

Oh man, not only is she a racist, she’s a cat lady. There’s dandruff and hair everywhere and newspaper is placed in odd places all over the floor. Then I go in the kitchen and I see that there’s about a million bags of different labeled pet food, and I know that this lady really needs a stallion. I AM A STALLION!

But then I think to myself, why the heck does she have all this pet food and yet there are no animals around? And it hits me. She’s an animal murderer. Or she’s mad poor and can’t afford food. Either way, I’ve got to work fast.

So just when I’m about to start dumping all of the food in the pond nearby, I hear some pony start talking to something outside. So I go to a window and see none other than the cutie I’ve been hunting down this entire time. The problem is she’s talking to some little white rabbit outside. Oh man, she’s going to claim another victim! But then for some reason she starts wigging out.

“What? There’s a stranger in my house? Oh no!” I hear her say.

It’s clear she’s confused. It’s not a stranger in her house, it’s me! So I grab one of the birdhouses inside and I chuck it through the window and jump outside. Then I wave my hooves around and yell “Yo, whattup, gurl!”

And then she starts acting all coy and junk by being like “Oh, it’s that mean pony from the bus.” Which is fine and all because at least she’s not screaming her head off. She then immediately starts screaming her head off. “Ah! IT’S THAT MEAN PONY FROM THE BUS! Angel, run and hide!” Then she flew away.

So by now I’m just like “Dang.” Because I’m tired of running and her flying isn’t helping. So I go decide to go back home to get some sleep and try again tomorrow. This racist, animal abusing, flying hotness is going to have to wait.

Author's Note

You can basically live in any house if you're angry enough.

Chapter 9: Fluttershy Gets Rarity's Advice

Of the millions of worlds in existence and the countless possibilities of life, this is the recordings of one conversation between two talking ponies. You may now freak out.

Rarity was all the most enamored with her self appointed job of a seamstress, though she would describe it more as an artiste with fabric. To stitch, to cut away the excess, to manipulate fold after fold and sink anchors to her greatly discerning eye and accompany her already splendid work with crystals of all manner was but one dream of hers fulfilled. Her love for her work was exhibited all too diligently by every careful stick of her needled thread through silk and cotton.

This peace, like all, did not last. Fluttershy burst through the door, panting like a dog on the verge of a heat stroke, and slammed the door behind her. Rarity held up a hoof that had been stuck deep with a needle and turned to face her friend. “Fluttershy, what a pleasant surprise.” She then hobbled over to a drawer at the edge of the room. “You’ll have to excuse me, all your explosive behavior caused me a little inconvenience. Is something amiss?” She then bit one end of the needle, yanked it out, and began rubbing her wound with an old scrap of cloth set aside for what she always considered “Sweetie Belle interruptions.” She was used to this by now.

Fluttershy drew all the curtains in the room she could find and left only one open a crack so that she could peep outside the shop. “Somepony’s trying to get me!”

“Oh good heavens! Who?”

“I don’t know his name, I remember him being on a bus and saying ‘Hi’ to me and scaring me away!” Fluttershy exclaimed, on the verge of tears. “And then next thing I know he was in front of my house!”

“I see,” Rarity then gave pause and silently contemplated the subject. Not long after this did she burst out with a conclusion. “And did this pony hurt you in any way?”

“Well, no, but he did spook all my forest friends away. Plus he’s really loud.”

Rarity then used her hoof to hide a giant grin forming on her face. “Oh Fluttershy, I believe you may be mistaken, then.”

“No, wait, but you don’t understand!”

“Oh, but I do!” Rarity then went up to her friend. “It seems somepony of ours has a secret admirer!” She declared in a sing-song voice.

“Huh?”

“Fluttershy, darling, it may very well have been love at first sight! And the least you may do, as a proper lady, is to at least acknowledge his advances.” Rarity then dollied up her mane a bit more and put aside all her accessories that helped her in her textile endeavors. “If only if to rebuff them.”

“But, what if he’s trying to kill me?”

“Oh, Fluttershy, who would ever wish to kill you?”

“Crazy ponies, like the one that is waiting outside my house?”

“You must stop with this foolishness. Nothing bad shall happen, I assure you. Now if we hurry he may still be waiting.”

So without further objections, or at least none that would quell the massive desire of Rarity to conduct romance, the duo headed out of Rarity’s abode and over to Fluttershy’s.

Author's Note

During the writing for this I accidentally typed "Well, no, but he did spooky all my forest friends away..."

I immediately got spooked while editing this.

Chapter 10: No More Racism!

So while I’m kicking it, tossing sticks into the moat outside my new house, I happen to spot the ever gorgeous Fluttershy accompanied by an even hotter white unicorn. Of course, because I’m a chill broski, I will only ask for her digits. You can tell a lot about a pony by their favorite number.

But as I’m swagging up to them, I hear the unicorn say to her friend “Oh goodness, Fluttershy, I think you were right.”

“See? I told you he wants to kill me!”

“Oh, not about that. I think you were right to stay away from this pony! Look at him, so atrocious! Has he no sense of fashion or decency?”

“Huh?” And then she moves her eyes from her friend back to me. “But, he’s not wearing anything.”

“True, but that’s no excuse to at the very least make himself presentable. Fluttershy, had I known the dangers laid ahead of us, I would have brought a pair of scissors or a knife or something and let you go at him.”

“Me? But, I don’t want to hurt him!”

“You want him gone forever so he won’t bother you, yes?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Fluttershy, that’s called murder.”

And so at that point Fluttershy just shakes her head and is like “Isn’t there a better way to do this?”

“Well, I suppose we are the Elements of Harmony after all. Perhaps it would be best if you shooed him away.”

“Why does it have to be me?”

“Because I shant discredit my image by associating with such an awful pony!”

“But, but!”

And then when I got up to them, the white unicorn ran away and Fluttershy was clearly wigging out emotionally.

“Yo, word up, honey!”

She looks at me and is all like “Oh, um, hello, mister.” She then starts to trip over her next few words as her face flashes a grand shade of rose. “You, um, sure are looking pleasant today. I really like your, um, mane?”

Oh man, I cannot possibly handle this. So I just burst out going “Yo, lady, lay off! You’re smothering me! That’s it, I’m outie!” And I just nope on out of this stupid place. She can take her million birdhouses and eat them.

The End.

The moral of the story? Be careful of who you talk to on buses. They may be weird racist, animal abusing, control freaks. Even if they are hot.

Author's Note

For realsies. Just don't go on buses in the first place!

Chapter 1: The Yellow Bus Racist is Cute

Author's Note

The Jesse Pinkman quote as voiced by our protagonist is probably the only reason this story is rated Teen. Other than that, there will be no lewd situations of any sort. As far as I know.
Also, the main character is basically Trey Hamburger from Ghosts/Aliens, so prepare for juvenile hijinks to ensue.

Chapter 1: The Yellow Bus Racist is Cute

The day is beautiful and you cannot wait to embrace it! But you’re not going to, probably. You’re going to read this story. This isn’t your story either, this is about me and my pursuit for that really cute girl I met on the bus that one time. And if you’re not going to read beyond this first paragraph, let me leave you with one last bit of advice: Never, ever, under any circumstances look directly into the eyes of a duck. If you can do that, it’s too late, just say your prayers. This has nothing to do with the story, but some day some guy is going to read this paragraph and be like “This dude is incomprehensible. I don’t want anything to do with him.” And then he looks up from his screen and sees a duck but remembers not to look it in the eyes because I told him not to. That guy would manage to get away, and I just saved his life.

Oh man, I can’t believe I’ve been walking to work every day when there were buses in Equestria. I probably would’ve kept on walking like a chump if my amigo, Gaz Pacho, didn’t tell me about it. I mean, yeah, it costs ten bits but what kind of an idiot would rather waste time walking any distance whatsoever? Walking has been ruining my entire life! When my parents saw me take my first steps they were so proud. They were horrible jerks.

So when I found out about the bus I was on the first one I could find. It was really lame. The entire thing was super cramped, it was like a super-long carriage with two lanes of seats on either side of a single walking lane that forced every pony to brush shoulders against every other pony with the seat closest to the middle. There were only two seats in the rows also, meaning that I suspect this entire thing was actually designed for romantic couples, and that just made me want to run. Hard. But I didn’t.

So I took a seat just a few rows from the back of the bus which gave me a great view of the back of every other pony’s head. It sucks, but at least this also gives me the opportunity to scope out any threats. Man, if some ghost/alien pops in here I’ll be ready to just go full on combat-mode. Luckily, the biggest threat on here is some zebra chick up front with a mohawk.

The bus went on its way after my stop and soon arrived at the next one. This next stop is probably the most hype one, because while a few extra ponies filed in to the already packed-like-sardines carriage, one of them in particular caught my eye. This mare was talking to some cage on her back and she said something like “What’s that Miss Chuckles? You want to sit next to the window? Oh, I’ll see if I can. But all the seats are taken.”

She was mad hot, she had pink hair that hid one of her baby blue eyes, and her cutie mark was butterflies. This girl was super cute. Oh man, but did she have one big issue. Because next thing I know is she is walking up to that zebra pony up front and asks her “Excuse me, miss? I, um, was wondering if you wouldn’t, maybe, mind, please, going to the back of the bus?” And then in the tiniest whisper I still hear her ask “Please?”

Oh man. She’s a racist. That’s going to be a bit of a problem because I totally don’t have a problem with striped ponies.

The zebra didn’t freak out and try and eat her face off, as zebras are known to do. No, instead the zebra acted chill like she was a normal pony and took an empty seat in the back of the bus. This means I both couldn’t assess the greatest threat on the bus and I am completely enamored with a racist. I wasn’t in a good position and I felt like puking, but I didn’t. All I knew was I had to try and look past her bigotry and pitch woo anyways.

So I get up from my seat while the bus is in motion and I go right up to her and I get on my hind legs, cross my forelegs in front of me, and lay out my most smooth line ever “Hey there, gurl.”

She clearly must be deaf too, which kinda makes her a whole lot less cute because deaf people just walk into poles and trip over themselves all the time when they don't have thier white canes. So what I do next is I get right up in her face and go “Whattup, bitch!”

Then for some reason she starts freaking out like she has any reason to and she goes “I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!”

Oh man, I didn’t want to deal with a bad first impression so I just got out of there. Hard.

Chapter 3: An Important Message

Alright, before I go on with my story I have a very important message for Gaz.

Look, bro, I know what you think you saw when you looked on me in my bedroom at the time but I was totally not doing what you think I was doing. I can explain why you found me with a small table and a miniature tea set with a rag dolly sitting at the table.

Alright, so I was thinking of taking my mom out to get some fried hay or something stupid like that because a cow like her doesn’t deserve much, and I thought I should probably get ready for an escape plan in case things went south and I wanted to make sure I could save as many lives as possible and prevent a possible invasion from a ghost/alien. Especially if girls were watching. So what I did was I recreated the setting in my bedroom with a bunch of bullcorn that just so happened to look like a stuffed doll and a tea set but it totally wasn’t.

I would never do that, bro, you know I’m an earnest guy. And as my amigo I think you’re contractually obligated to believe me under threat of receiving a sick belly-burn as mandated by law. So drop it already.

Chapter 4: Planning to Find a Racist

Alright, so a little later that day I left the house and went down to the lake to hang out with Gaz. We were throwing rocks at ducks, because ducks are jerks and it’s the only thing to do in town.

But then I just get really mad and I’m like “This is stupid! I can’t just spend the whole day throwing rocks at ducks!”

Then Pacho tells me something so freaky messed up. “You know, it could be worse. I heard over in Ponyville there was this hobo pit behind the clothes shop that got filled in with dirt. And the hobos are still in that pit to this day.”

It’s things like this that make me stop and think about what I’m doing with my life.

“Yo man, that’s whack. That’s like how I really want to hit on this cute chick I met on the bus but the problem is she lives near the bus route which means she’s near Ponyville.”

He agreed with me that it was the most stupid thing ever and we both got really mad. That’s why we’re amigos, he’s cool. Just like the soup he serves.

“You know, you should find out where she lives. Girls dig that thing.”

I read a book that taught me how to tell if a pony lies by looking at their beard. That same book taught me all I needed to know about fighting ghosts/aliens. So I look at him and particularly notice his beard. He is not lying.

“Oh man, how in the hay am I going to find out where she lives?”

“I dunno, but you sure can’t go to the library! That nerd’s still living there, and there’s no way we can get her out. Like, we could pelt her with eggs but I don’t think we can get our hands on any since that time we got banned from the marketplace for harassing the chickens.”

Long story short, this chicken was giving me the evil eye and another one winked at me and I just started flipping out and overturned an orange cart. But if they didn’t want that to happen they didn’t need to let chickens hang around in the open.

“We need to find out who knows this racist yellow pegasus.”

Author's Note

If you'd like to know how to detect lies by looking at people's beards, you should also see if the widely acclaimed book Ghosts/Aliens is at your local library!