A Shitty Compilation of Shitty Short Stories

Wagner Kraut-Fritz was making his famous Kraut-Cakes when suddenly a giant pony appeared.  This is his story.

A shrill whistle emitted from above the dirt trenches, causing Private Wagner Kraut-Fritz the Kraut-Cake of the German Empire to look up in surprise.  Not long after, an artillery shell exploded near the small barracks housing him and his comrades.  Dirt sprayed out in multiple areas as the boom subsided, and the soldiers near the blast acted as though it was an everyday thing.

Wagner sighed through his small sponge holes.  He tiredly hopped off his bed, adorned in a grey greatcoat and NCR Ranger helmet.  He picked up two Smith and Wesson .44 Magnums, two frag grenades, two mustard gas mini-tanks, and an M4 Assault Carbine.  Wagner hopped over to the pot of soup by the left wall of the cement bunker, and started peeing.  A German comrade walked over wearing his uniform, excluding the trousers, which he wore none.

"Morning, Wagner.  Mmm, by the Kaiser's fat bulging penis, this soup is glorious," the soldier complemented.

"Glorious indeed... mmmm, yes, mmm yes, yes yes yes yessssss... Jews yes, yes... oh mein Gott Jews...."

"Shut up, Adolf.  You peasant courier.  Everyone in our company knows you have a scat fetish." Wagner hissed, then spat into the soup.  Wagner unsheathed his trench knife and hooked it onto the end of his rifle, then stabbed Adolf in the balls.  Large gushes of pee, sticks, rocks, and semen all flowed out of Adolf Hitler's balls while he softly moaned.

While Hitler fell into a world of bliss and ecstasy, Wagner hopped out of the bunker.

Ah, grey skies.  Never ceases to bore me, thought Wagner.

He hopped down the trenches while whistling a happy tune.

"Mein Lederhosen!  Oh Gott!  Zey are charging!" a scout yelled.

"Ze British are coming!  NEIN!!!"  Random German soldiers scrambled about.

Wagner mindlessly hopped out of the trenches and out into No Man's Land, a happy tune playing in his head.  Three Sopwith Camels flew overhead, firing at a Fokker Dr. 1.  Shells exploded about, tank stoppers, barbed wire, craters, fire, and a dead tree stood before Wagner.  It was pure chaos.

And Wagner grew hard from it all.  Countless numbers of British soldiers thundered towards him, screaming threats and insults, such as, "YER DEAD YA BLEEDIN' WANKERS!", or, "I'LL BASH YE FOOKIN 'EAD IN I SWEAR ON ME MUM!".

The British were among the most interesting and uncivilized bunch on the whole bloody Earth, so you could probably expect something like that.

Anyway, so, as Wagner hopped on, the Britbongs fired their rifles in the air, their pants dangling from their legs.  Honestly, Wagner had no idea why the other Germans were so scared of the British.  All they do is yell nonsense about tea and their country and try picking drunken fights with one another.

But wait!  Who stood among Wagner now?  Well, the bloody Scottish infantry, that's who.  Thousands of them stood above the French trenches, with nothing on but their kilts.  Bagpipes blared Scotland the Brave obnoxiously loud whilst the Scotsmen ripped their kilts from their waists, and let them fly away with the wind.

There they stood.  Naked, glorious, and proud.  Absolutely proud.

Wagner shrugged and, due to his small size, squeezed in between the hairy legs of the Scotsmen.

Why Wagner went through all that, is fairly simple: He did it to get to the enemy's supply of Mountain Dew and Doritos, as well as the dank 360° quick-scoping/no-scoping able MLG rifle with gold camouflage.

Wagner opened his tanks of mustard gas, and threw them into a nearby mini swamp as cover, for what lay ahead was no ordinary opponent.  This, ladies and gentlemen, was Shrek the Ogre.  And that swamp, was his.  Having a gas mask and being a Kraut-Cake, he could handle the gas.  He swiftly pulled two Magnums from their holsters and walked like a badass to Shrek's mini swamp.

The swamp was... a swamp.  You know, a swamp, with a swamp?  A swamp.  Damn it, this is hard to explain!  Anyways, in the middle of the swamp was a small crater full of Cheetos bags, Doritos bags, Mountain Dew cans, video games and their matching consoles, and a huge 500", ultra high-definition 1,000 karat gold television.  And on top of the pile, was the dank rifle, bipod extended, butt on a Doritos bag.

"Haven't ya gotten the message?  This is my swamp!" a voice bellowed from behind Wagner.

"Aye, I got ze message, you bloody fat bastard," Wagner replied cooly, turning around slowly to meet the behemoth before him.

Out of the cloud of gas came Shrek the Ogre, who was dresses in a lengthy black leather trench coat and aviators.  An Intervention sniper rifle was slung over his back.  Wagner trained his Magnums at the ogre.

"So... I heard you were lookin' fer the dankest rifle around, eh?" asked Shrek, keeping his gaze on Wagner, who didn't reply.   Shrek sighed.

"It didn't have to come to this, lad.  You'll never beat meh.  Give it up."  Shrek smirked.

Again, Wagner kept to himself.  Shrek sighed once more.

"I'm sorry it's come to this...."  Shrek expertly flipped the bolt-action sniper rifle over his shoulder and into his hands.  He quickly spun around and fired off a shot.

The Intervention's bullet nearly hit Wagner.  He sprang into action, jumping off to his right while firing the Magnums' twelve rounds at Shrek.

He was blown back by only the even shots that managed to hit him.  He was now in a puddle of mud, clutching his stomach and coughing up blood.  Wagner emptied his weapons and - in very after blowing smoke that billowed from the barrels away in a clichéd way, tucked the two Magnums into his trench coat, then walked over to Shrek, a hand inside Wagner's trench coat fingering one of the Magnums.

"Get Shrekt," said Wagner.

"Lad... *cough* please*... take the rifle- *cough* you've earned it... I go to Valhalla...." Shrek weezed out.

"Pfft!  Bitch, you ain't even Slovak!" Wagner scoffed.  He sauntered off toward the rifle, the beginning of O Fortuna playing in his head.  A beam of light shown over the rifle, its golden surface gleaming.  It was so beautiful.  Wagner carefully held up the rifle, and slung it over his back.

"Well, 'story's over.  What shall I do now, hmm?" Wagner asked to no one in particular.  He shrugged.

"Kraut-Cakes it it!"

And so, in the comfy confines of his bunker, he made fifty Kraut-Cakes in honor of the quick-scoping ogre.

Then, a giant pony appeared.

"hello everybody!  this is bee-bee.  i'm just a giant pony right now, and tryin' my huge dick out.  so i'm just, um, being bored right now, so um, yup.  i'm gettin' ready to watch tv; nbc, wednesday night, thursday night, those shows.  so i'll talk to you later and i hope everybody has a good and wonderful day... night.  bye," it said.

Wagner, shocked to see the misuse of written dialogue, pulled out one of his Magnums and shot himself.  But, being a Kraut-Cake, he was immune to that.

"No God why?!" he shouted.

"wagner!" the giant pony said.  "i've come to tell you that you're not a kraut-cake!  you're a cheese cake!"

This sudden revelation struck Wagner like a clock.

"Fuuuuuuu-"

[Cue le Inception bwong]

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THE END