You Came to the Wrong Neighborhood, Motherbucker!
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You Came to the Wrong Neighborhood, Motherbucker!
It was a beautiful day in Ponyville. There was hardly a cloud in the bright blue sky and the weather was absolutely perfect. Traffic was light, as the morning rush hour had long been over and the lunch rush had not yet begun. A red trolley glided swiftly along its track, heading out of the main business district and into the suburbs. As it traveled, it passed a great big tree that had many windows of various sizes built into it. At the very heart of the tree was a large red door with an image of a candle painted on its exterior. A sign just to the left of the door imprinted with the image of a book vaguely suggested the building’s purpose.
Inside the library, there was a spacious circular room. Shelves carved out of the walls were crammed with books, and so were the small tables scattered around the room. Chairs and cushions had been placed conveniently for the pleasure of houseguests, who visited frequently. On one end of the room, a winding staircase climbed out of sight to the living quarters where somepony was playing a cheery and upbeat tune on a piano. On the other end, a small alcove served as a mudroom and foyer where guests could wipe their hooves and remove their shoes. A small closet offered plenty of space to hang raincoats and umbrellas.
Suddenly the door opened. A yellow pegasus mare with a pink mane entered with a smile and raised a hoof in a greeting.
“It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor…” she sang as she trotted over to the closet door and opened it.
“Would you be mine? Could you be mine?” continued the pegasus as she leafed through the menagerie of sweaters hanging on the bar.
“It’s a neighborly day in this beautywood, a neighborly day for a beauty… Would you be mine?” she asked as took a red sweater out of the closet. “Could you be mine?”
She then closed the door to the closet and began taking the coat off the rack.
“I have always wanted to have a neighbor…” she sang, putting a hoof up to the top of her head and making a light tug.
“Just…”
She furrowed her brow, but tried to remain cheerful.
“Like…” she said, giving another light tug but still not getting the desired effect.
“You!!!” she groaned as she gave a heavier tug. In a flash, her hoof fell down to the ground with a loud zipping sound. In the yellow mare’s place stood a smiling purple alicorn standing on a crumpled yellow sack.
“I’ve always wanted to live in a neighborhood…” sang the purple pony as she levitated the jacket off its hanger and thrust her forehooves and head into it.
“With you….” she sang, kicking the yellow sack off to the side.
“So let’s make the most of this beautiful day…” she sang as she zipped up the jacket.
Then she walked over to a wooden bench and sat down.
“Since we’re together, we might as well say…” she sang as she slipped the golden slippers off of her hooves.
“Would you be mine?” she asked as she put a tennis shoe onto one of her hind legs.
“Could you be mine?” she asked, telekinetically tying the laces of the shoe.
“Won’t you be my neighbor?”
Finished tying the shoe, she took a matching tennis shoe and put it on her other hind leg.
“Won’t you please, won’t you please,…” she said, tying it, “Please won’t you be… my neighbor?”
Once finished tying her second shoe, she sat up.
“Neighbor and friend!” she said, smiling into space. She then placed a bent forehoof on the backrest of the bench and her other forehoof in her lap. By this time, the piano music had stopped.
“Mm-hmm! That’s what we are, television neighbors and television friends.”
Then she brought the forehoof in her lap up and clasped it with the forehoof on the backrest.
“I was thinking about something,” she said, leaning back. “Do you know what a ‘restaurant’ is?”
After a long pause, she continued her thought.
“It’s a place where people go to buy their breakfasts. Or their lunches. Or their dinners. Have you ever been to a restaurant?”
Another pause.
“Well, there’s one in this neighborhood that I really like. The ponies there make very good food, and it’s a friendly place. Pinkie Pie sometimes works there; I’d like you to see it. So let’s just go to our neighborhood restaurant together, alright?”
The purple alicorn got out of the bench and began trotting towards the door.
Suddenly, a white filly with a pink and purple mane thrust the door open from the other side.
“Yo, whatup Sweetie?” asked the purple alicorn.
“Yo, I just seen this kid over there, right over there around the corner over there,” said the filly identified as ‘Sweetie,’ gesturing behind herself, “And I know he ain’t down with your team.”
The purple alicorn’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?” she pouted.
“I don’t know!” said Sweetie. “Some skinny big-headed bitch.”
“Word?” asked the purple alicorn. “Come on!” And she gestured for Sweetie to follow. The alicorn began walking towards the door. Then she stopped, stared off into space and smiled.
“Come along,” she said a calm voice to nopony in particular just before heading out the door.
Two niggas in the front, two niggas in the back. That’s four niggas that were riding strapped in Starswirl’s Cadillac.
A voice in Twilight’s head said, “Fuck all these niggas.”
And then Twilight thought, “I should rob all these niggas. Man my homies, they wanna do whatever I wanna do. Let’s say I wanna eat, they say, ‘Shit, we wanna eat too...’”
Twilight and her homies rode around in their Cadillac until they found a red and black centaur stuntin’ on Front Street. He had a dark orange backpack on his back and headphones on his head. Twilight stopped the car and put the shines on, making the centaur freeze up like lunch meat. Then she rolled down the car’s windows.
“What you think you’re doin’ here?” she asked the centaur, shooting him a glaring look.
“You talkin’ to me?” he asked in a deadpan.
“Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you!” said Twilight. “Open your bag!”
Riley Freeman and Sweetie Belle got out of the car doors facing the sidewalk. They got on either side of the centaur and began pushing him around, back and forth, while Fifty Cent and Twilight watched from the car. This continued for about half an hour until a box of Thin Mints fell out of the centaur’s backpack.
Everypony gasped except for Twilight. She Twifaced.
“You came to the wrong neighborhood, motherfucker!” she said, pulling out an uzi. “Get the fuck out!”
The centaur was scared shitless, so he started running. He ran as fast as he could down the street, away from Twilight and her gang.
But the Twiface was too fast. Even though she gave him a head start, Twily and the gang soon caught up to the centaur in their Cadillac. Even worse, Twilight had a full clip and she got biz.
She stuck her head out the window and yelled, “I kill you, bitch!”
Then all four niggas put out their roscoes and they were like ‘Blockow! Blockow! Bbbbbllllllllllooooooooooo!’
And the centaur was all like, “Oooh! You shot me!”
And Twilight was like “Take that, faggots!”
And then they proceeded to loot his body and rob his house.
Author's Note
R.I.P. Mr. Rogers, Tupac, and the Golden Oak Library.
"This is our block. Now you gonna get down or you gonna lay down." -Tara Strong
