Friendship is a WIPby MonolithiuMChaptersMediocritySuspicionsPosted on Ponyville's Town Hall DoorYou Avelut to ExplainLiving ArrangementsI Have No CandyMediocrity Dear Princess Celestia, I was bored so I actually went outside. Ponyville sucked but I saw an apple farm a ways off and I went over there because Twilight mentioned it once. Never have I made such a horrible mistake when walking where the sun shines. First of all, the roads are all dirt. For fuck's sake, Celestia, you could at least get this backwater, incestuous cesspool some decent cobble paths. Like, dirt? You guys have mix decks, flashlights, and arcade games but not proper roads? Get your fucking priorities straight, bitch. My shoes are dirty as hell because of your attention deficit disorder and I'm gonna have to clean the fuckers when I get back. And yeah I'm writing this while I'm walking, because I live in the moment and right now I'm pissed. Anyway, I get to this apple farm, and then this orange hick gets all up in my grill, smelling like sweat and illiteracy. I almost gagged on the lack of education, like holy crap. This bible-thumping hillbilly tells me to try her apples, and I tell her that I'd rather finger my urethra than eat from her disgusting Jesus-ridden ranch. So then she gets all confused and tries to act like she's never heard of Jesus, as if I'm a fucking idiot and she was the smart one. So I try to get a rise out of her by insulting her lord and savior, George W. Bush. She feigns ignorance throughout and just pretends to get really confused, so instead I turn to her apples, which she has a weird obsession with if you ask me. So I pick an apple from a tree, take a bite, and spit it back in her face. I then crushed the apple underfoot and called Jesus a faggot. Finally, her facade cracked, and she clobbered me in the gut with a hoof. These fucking Christfags and their manners, I swear. Like why can't they just see the light and lajfm;lahfj aljb;klajlba;blhao'lnfhghkhdskhhs;ljshv;;skuewiwuic ncuhwhimyunqmqq;fmbvn;sksa'a'a OH MY FUCKING GOD THESE PONIES CAN'T WATCH WHERE THEY'RE GOING I HOPE THE HOLY SPIRIT TAKES A HOLY MURDER SPREE INTO THIS TOWN AND ANNIHILATES EVERY LAST ONE OF THESE STUPID SHITS LIKE WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING CAN'T YOU SEE I'M WRITING AND WALKING SHIT Fuck you. -Anon Celestia gave a chuckle and filed the second letter away. Author's Note I never said these would be long or in good taste. Suspicions Dear Princess Celestia, Carrot Cake touched my dick. I think he might be gay. –Anon Celestia put down the letter, quirking an eyebrow disbelievingly. Why would Anonymous send a letter so short and... calm? It really made no sense to her. The last two letters she had gotten were little more than rants at perceived wrongs committed against him, which she had really gotten a kick out of. She saved them just for Luna, in fact, as they made her guffaw as she was reminded of the ancient practices of extreme racial prejudice. Celestia would say that it was a bad habit of her sister's, but it kept her happy. Thinking on Anon's character, however, the letter she had on the table was very unlike him. Perhaps something was wrong? Was he really thinking so deeply into what could have been an accidental bump? After all, most ponies came up to Anon's thighs, so Carrot Cake's head would be at the same elevation as Anon's pelvic area. It was more likely that it was an accident rather than something as preposterous as a hidden lust from a married man with two foals. A flash of magic, stinking of "lol, you fuckin' thought", and another letter materialized in Celestia's magical grasp. She slowly opened the letter and began to read. He was a total fruit, so I uppercut him and told his wife. –Anon Celestia put that letter with the other and tapped her chin. Maybe she didn't know enough about pony psychology to proper estimate how her subjects actually work in this day and age. It was probable that pony mental faculties were quickly shifting, or maybe they had been slowly evolving over time, invisible to her watchful eye. Whatever it was, Celestia could care less, and she filed the two-part letter away with the others and eagerly awaited next week's letter. Hopefully it would be more exciting and less... gay. Author's Note yeah Carrot Cake's faggotry will be a recurring situation also I've got gay friends and I can say faggot if I want you're not my mom I may or may not be one of those gay friends wtf am I talking about lol chapters will be longer also expect a one-shot about apple booze sometime in the future Posted on Ponyville's Town Hall DoorRoyal Decree from Her Highness Princess Celestia: Diarch of the Sun, It has come to my attention that the human known as "Anonymous" has been the victim of both a misunderstanding and an unintentional attempted sexual assault. Ponyville citizens are to immediately cease their hostilities and un-invited romantic/carnal pursuits with Anonymous. I understand that his personality is abrasive and not the most endearing or easy to appease, but I ask (and slightly demand) of you to cease this silliness. Anon's culture and strange ways are vastly different from Equestria's, and all of you must begin to understand that. Work to reach a connection of cultural values with the resident human, without molesting him. Twilight, this part is for you. Unlock your doors, forgive Anon for spiriting Spike away, and give the human his old room back. He needs it dearly, my faithful student. Sincerely and Lovingly, Princess Celestia: Diarch of the Sun You Avelut to ExplainAuthor's Note I say mean stuff about Jewish people. I don't mean it, obviously. Anon's just an asshole. You Avelut to Explain Dear Princess Suncheeks, I think I'm gonna need a crash course in Equestrian mating rituals, because this Jew is trying to fuck me. I went to buy a fucking futon from this asshole and he charges me nine-thousand two-hundred and four bits for it. Now, I don't know about you, but that sounds like some Menorah-wearing, glass-crushing, "oy vey" bullshit. This would be like walking into a hospital, bleeding from the mangled flesh-sack where your nuts used to be, and saying, "doctor, I need help," but then the doctor would say, "sure, that'll be nine-hundred bits please". SO WHY THE FUCK CAN THIS LONG-NOSED MOTHERFUCKER CHARGE NINE-THOUSAND TWO-HUNDRED AND FOUR BITS FOR A FUCKING FUTON? I'M TIRED OF CHILLING ON TWILIGHT'S COUCH. IT'S OLD, MUSTY, SHORT, AND SMELLS LIKE WIDE-OPEN NERD ASS. THIS MONEY-GRUBBING, SON OF A BITCH PONY JUST FUCKED WITH THE WRONG MOTHERFUCKER. THIS WEEK HAS BEEN KINDA SHITTY, CELESTIA, SO I'M JUST LETTING YOU KNOW THAT I'M GONNA GAS THIS GUY'S HOUSE. STOP ME OR WHATEVER. Peace, Anonymous the Pissed-Off Motherfucking Nazi (temp) Celestia's eyes widened, her wings unfurled, and she leapt through her window into the afternoon sky. Sighting Ponyville, she lit her horn and teleported into town. It was when she arrived that she realized she had no idea how to get to Filthy Rich's. And yes, she knew what pony to expect, given Anon's rantings. So, she began to look upon the ground from the skies, her eyes moving quickly and desperately. If Anon did what he was claiming, then not only would Equestria have a massive outcry for Anon's exile, but Anon's own social prejudices would become increasingly more violent. He is a man to hold a grudge, unfortunately. By some stroke of luck, she managed to spot Anon stomping his way towards a home, a long metallic tube and a gas mask in his hands. His brow was knit in rage and his steps were angry and jerky. He lifted the cannister over his head and threw it through a window, then fastened the mask to his face before leaping inside. Celestia let out a cry and dove down after him. The hiss of gas being released made Celestia's blood run cold. If what Anon had told her was true... Zipping through the window and crashing through the pantry door, Celestia was horrified to see... Anon spreading his ass cheeks wide and releasing his pent-up gaseous rage upon the bound and gagged (both meanings) earth pony. The pony's eyes were wide and his face green, and he thrashed wildly while Anon continued to push out the abominable stench. The gas mask snapped to Celestia, and Anon clapped his ass back together. Anon stared Celestia dead in the face, never even breathing. Then, quick as lightning, he let loose a little poot and jumped out the whole window in Filthy's kitchen, doing a combat roll and taking off at a sprint down the street, bringing attention to his pantless self as his verdant butt waggled in front of Ponyville's market. Living Arrangements"This is such bullshit, oh my god." Anon glared down at the table in front of him as Twilight gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The faceless man's attitude soured every time her hoof returned to his body, and he twitched ever so slightly with every contact she made. "I'm not writing these stupid buddy lesson letters to your stupid ruler with the fag-flag hair. It's unnatural for men to do this and I reject it with my very being." Twilight shrugged and began to trot away. "Write one of these letters every week or leave. It's up to you, Anon." Anon sat at the table, staring at the quill, parchment, and full bottle of black ink with barely-contained frustration. He didn't want to pay Twilight to stay in her library, that would entail getting a job and working under these moot-forsaken ponies. Anon's fists trembled with shame and rage at his current predicament. He could either get a boss that would be a pony, or write letters to the ruler of their country every week detailing his interactions– however limited they may be– with the ponies of Ponyville. His hand shaking, Anon grabbed the quill and plunged it into the ink. "Dear... Princess... Celestia..." His voice came through clenched teeth, invisible behind the cloth that covered his face twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. His scribbling ended after writing those three words. Anon then realized that he would actually need to do things in order to write to the fat white shitlord that smiled down upon her cotton-candy country and its autistic, prismatic residents. And he would need to spend time with these autists. "Jesus, now I know what the Pope feels like," Anon grumbled. He stood up and made his way to the kitchen, looking for something to eat. With enough brainfood, Anon supposed he could spin a tall tale and send it off without a hitch, not like that chubby bitch would know anyway. Nor would she care about him, either. He opened the cabinet above the counter and reached inside for his jar of peanut butter. Getting it within his grasp, Anon proceeded to open it and stick a knife inside to retrieve the creamy substance. Hearing a glassy, hollow clink, Anon's hand flexed around the jar and shattered it. He turned around and saw Spike at the table, a peanut-butter sandwich between his claws. The man wanted to punch Spike in the face so hard that the dragon would fossilize, but Twilight had a very strict no-violence rule around the library, and especially with that scaled thieving fuckhole. With no other outlet to turn to, Anon stomped back into the foyer and slammed his hands onto the table, grabbing up the quill and beginning to furiously scribble his letter to Princess Celestia. Heavy breaths came from the lithe man as he ignored the shards of glass in his hand, instead channeling the pain into furious, hungry rage that was then transliterated into written word. Signing off on the letter, Anon then re-entered the kitchen and shoved the scroll of paper into Spike's peanut buttery throat before pulling the dragon's tail and watching flames erupt from his nose. Spike then entered a coughing fit and Anon watched as the scroll left Spike's mouth and wafted out the open kitchen window. Princess Celestia sat within her study, content with the way the day was going. Looking up from a novel she was currently invested in, she saw a cloud of green smoke enter into her room from the balcony door and coalesce in front of her. Twilight had told Celestia of her plan to get Anon writing some friendship letters, and Celestia agreed, seeing the value it would hold for Anon. Even if the cynical human couldn't see its usefulness, it would do him a lot of good. The scroll materialized and dropped onto Celestia's pillow, and the first thing she became distinctly aware of was the overpowering smell of peanut butter. Levitating the scroll in her magic, she unfurled it and blanched immediately. Soaked in blood and covered in splotches of peanut butter, Anon's first letter was a bit of a shock. It was also horribly unhygienic and concerning for Celestia as to what exactly Anon had done to the poor dragon. The best way to find out, she supposed, was through the letter she now had in her possession. Dear Princess Celestia, I wake up this morning, stretching my arms and legs, smacking my lips and smelling the fresh morning air. I had a good night of rest and my day was going well until about eleven fifty-seven in the morning. Twilight told me that I would have to write these stupid fucking things each week if I wanted to stay under her roof. And, like a complete jew, I detested the idea of spending money to live, and so I guess the existence of this means that I agreed. Fuck me, right? So I'm thinking of what to write to you for the first time. I was going to bullshit the entire thing like a high school paper, but I needed to eat so I could think straight. I walk into the kitchen to get my jar of peanut butter. Notice how I underlined "my". To my horrified discovery, someone has finished my peanut butter and had the gall to leave the empty fucking jar behind like it was a fucking condom wrapper. I turn around, and– lo and behold– there is Spike, with a peanut butter motherfucking sandwich in his claws. He went into the cabinet where I keep all of my food stuff, he opened my jar, took the last of my peanut butter, and PUT THE FUCKING THING BACK. THIS CUM-GUZZLING, SCALY, SHIT-FOR-BRAINS USELESS SIDEKICK STOLE MY FUCKING PEANUT BUTTER AND THEN PUT THE JAR BACK. THIS DEFIES ALL CODE OF COMMON ETIQUETTE WHEN PERUSING CABINETRY, AND I AM APPALLED BY THIS FAG'S IGNORANCE AND RETARDATION. I DON'T KNOW IF YOU CAN GIVE A DRAGON DOWN'S SYNDROME WITH MAGIC, BUT TWILIGHT MUST'VE FOUND A WAY BECAUSE THIS STUNTED FUCKBOY IS WAY OUTTA LINE. I MEAN YOU SHOULD SEE HIM JUST STRUGGLE TO LIVE. WHEN HE RUNS, HIS ENTIRE BODY STAYS STOCK STILL WHILE HIS LEGS START SWINGING. HOW OLD SHOULD HE BE BY NOW? BECAUSE THERE'S NO DOUBT THAT HE WOULD BE IN SCHOOL IF IT WASN'T FOR HIS RAGING CASE OF SUDDEN INFANT FUCKHEAD SYNDROME. I SWEAR IT'S LIKE HE ISN'T EVEN A PERSON, LIKE HE'S SO SLOW THAT WE ALL LIVE IN THE PRESENT AND HIS MIND ACTUALLY WORKS BACKWARDS, AND UPSIDE DOWN. HE HAD A TWENTY MINUTE ARGUMENT WITH AN OWL WHEN IT ASKED HIM "WHO?" LIKE HOLY COCK HOW STUPID ARE YOU? BUT THEN I REALIZED HE WAS A DOWN'S AUTIST WITH ADVANCED CEREBRAL PALSY AND AN ORPHAN THAT GOT ADOPTED BY A SCHIZOPHRENIC NEAT FREAK AND I ALMOST FELT BAD BEFORE I PUNTED HIM INTO A LAKE. I HOPE THE FUCK DROWNS. ~Anonymous Celestia lowered the letter slowly, her face serene. Slowly, and ever so slightly, Celestia's face contorted into a smile. This was some of the most entertaining shit she had read from a sentient being in a while. She would be looking forward to more from Anon. With that, she set the letter aside on her table and designated that the new position for the pile of letters she would most likely be receiving from Anon in the coming weeks. Author's Note how offensive lol I Have No CandyTo Her Royal Highness Celestia Nova Solaris, Before I begin this little tale of bum-fuckery, you should know that it was 100% not my fault. Those three are extremely impressionable, to the point of being borderline zombies. They came scrambling up to me, and scuffed my shoes in their rush. Naturally, I reacted in an appropriate matter and demanded recompense for their destruction of my private property. When I learned they had no money, I told them to "begin polishing". Now, I don't know how things work here, but back on Earth TEN YEAR-OLD GIRLS DON'T TRY TO SLOBBER ON YOUR DICK. I DON'T KNOW IF PONIES GROW UP FASTER OR IF YOU TEACH THEM FUCKED UP SEXUALLY DEVIOUS SHIT REALLY EARLY, BUT WHAT THE FUCK?! I'VE HAD THREE UNDERAGE FILLIES CHASING ME AROUND TOWN "EAGER" TO "BEGIN POLISHING". NOW MOST, IF NOT ALL, OF PONYVILLE THINKS I'M EITHER A PEDOPHILE OR A PLAYER. OR BOTH. I CAN'T EVEN GET INSIDE THE LIBRARY ANYMORE, BECAUSE TWILIGHT– THE DUMB FUCKIN' CUNT– LOCKED ME OUT. AND THEY'RE STILL LOOKING FOR MY ASS. Or my dick, rather. I'M HOLED UP IN A CAVE WITH NOTHING BUT A BEAR AND A TIMBERWOLF. Oh, and Spike. I managed to swipe him from Twilight. Had to jump out a window, but he absorbed most of the impact. ANYWAY, THE BEAR SMELLS LIKE A NEW JERSEY SEWAGE PIPE AND THE TIMBERWOLF KEEPS LIGHTING ITSELF ON FIRE. FOUR TIMES. FOUR. FUCKING. TIMES. I HAVE BEEN PARTIALLY SET ON FIRE FOUR GODDAMN TIMES. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR COUNTRY AND ITS CITIZENS. I SHOULD HAVE GONE TO THE GRIFFONS, AT LEAST THEY HAVE BACON. Fuck Equestria and Everyone in it (except for you), Anonymous (Hates It Here) PS– Please save my ass, Princess Author's Note what three attacked him are up to you, but it should be fairly obvious
Mediocrity Dear Princess Celestia, I was bored so I actually went outside. Ponyville sucked but I saw an apple farm a ways off and I went over there because Twilight mentioned it once. Never have I made such a horrible mistake when walking where the sun shines. First of all, the roads are all dirt. For fuck's sake, Celestia, you could at least get this backwater, incestuous cesspool some decent cobble paths. Like, dirt? You guys have mix decks, flashlights, and arcade games but not proper roads? Get your fucking priorities straight, bitch. My shoes are dirty as hell because of your attention deficit disorder and I'm gonna have to clean the fuckers when I get back. And yeah I'm writing this while I'm walking, because I live in the moment and right now I'm pissed. Anyway, I get to this apple farm, and then this orange hick gets all up in my grill, smelling like sweat and illiteracy. I almost gagged on the lack of education, like holy crap. This bible-thumping hillbilly tells me to try her apples, and I tell her that I'd rather finger my urethra than eat from her disgusting Jesus-ridden ranch. So then she gets all confused and tries to act like she's never heard of Jesus, as if I'm a fucking idiot and she was the smart one. So I try to get a rise out of her by insulting her lord and savior, George W. Bush. She feigns ignorance throughout and just pretends to get really confused, so instead I turn to her apples, which she has a weird obsession with if you ask me. So I pick an apple from a tree, take a bite, and spit it back in her face. I then crushed the apple underfoot and called Jesus a faggot. Finally, her facade cracked, and she clobbered me in the gut with a hoof. These fucking Christfags and their manners, I swear. Like why can't they just see the light and lajfm;lahfj aljb;klajlba;blhao'lnfhghkhdskhhs;ljshv;;skuewiwuic ncuhwhimyunqmqq;fmbvn;sksa'a'a OH MY FUCKING GOD THESE PONIES CAN'T WATCH WHERE THEY'RE GOING I HOPE THE HOLY SPIRIT TAKES A HOLY MURDER SPREE INTO THIS TOWN AND ANNIHILATES EVERY LAST ONE OF THESE STUPID SHITS LIKE WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING CAN'T YOU SEE I'M WRITING AND WALKING SHIT Fuck you. -Anon Celestia gave a chuckle and filed the second letter away. Author's Note I never said these would be long or in good taste.
Suspicions Dear Princess Celestia, Carrot Cake touched my dick. I think he might be gay. –Anon Celestia put down the letter, quirking an eyebrow disbelievingly. Why would Anonymous send a letter so short and... calm? It really made no sense to her. The last two letters she had gotten were little more than rants at perceived wrongs committed against him, which she had really gotten a kick out of. She saved them just for Luna, in fact, as they made her guffaw as she was reminded of the ancient practices of extreme racial prejudice. Celestia would say that it was a bad habit of her sister's, but it kept her happy. Thinking on Anon's character, however, the letter she had on the table was very unlike him. Perhaps something was wrong? Was he really thinking so deeply into what could have been an accidental bump? After all, most ponies came up to Anon's thighs, so Carrot Cake's head would be at the same elevation as Anon's pelvic area. It was more likely that it was an accident rather than something as preposterous as a hidden lust from a married man with two foals. A flash of magic, stinking of "lol, you fuckin' thought", and another letter materialized in Celestia's magical grasp. She slowly opened the letter and began to read. He was a total fruit, so I uppercut him and told his wife. –Anon Celestia put that letter with the other and tapped her chin. Maybe she didn't know enough about pony psychology to proper estimate how her subjects actually work in this day and age. It was probable that pony mental faculties were quickly shifting, or maybe they had been slowly evolving over time, invisible to her watchful eye. Whatever it was, Celestia could care less, and she filed the two-part letter away with the others and eagerly awaited next week's letter. Hopefully it would be more exciting and less... gay. Author's Note yeah Carrot Cake's faggotry will be a recurring situation also I've got gay friends and I can say faggot if I want you're not my mom I may or may not be one of those gay friends wtf am I talking about lol chapters will be longer also expect a one-shot about apple booze sometime in the future
Posted on Ponyville's Town Hall DoorRoyal Decree from Her Highness Princess Celestia: Diarch of the Sun, It has come to my attention that the human known as "Anonymous" has been the victim of both a misunderstanding and an unintentional attempted sexual assault. Ponyville citizens are to immediately cease their hostilities and un-invited romantic/carnal pursuits with Anonymous. I understand that his personality is abrasive and not the most endearing or easy to appease, but I ask (and slightly demand) of you to cease this silliness. Anon's culture and strange ways are vastly different from Equestria's, and all of you must begin to understand that. Work to reach a connection of cultural values with the resident human, without molesting him. Twilight, this part is for you. Unlock your doors, forgive Anon for spiriting Spike away, and give the human his old room back. He needs it dearly, my faithful student. Sincerely and Lovingly, Princess Celestia: Diarch of the Sun
You Avelut to ExplainAuthor's Note I say mean stuff about Jewish people. I don't mean it, obviously. Anon's just an asshole. You Avelut to Explain Dear Princess Suncheeks, I think I'm gonna need a crash course in Equestrian mating rituals, because this Jew is trying to fuck me. I went to buy a fucking futon from this asshole and he charges me nine-thousand two-hundred and four bits for it. Now, I don't know about you, but that sounds like some Menorah-wearing, glass-crushing, "oy vey" bullshit. This would be like walking into a hospital, bleeding from the mangled flesh-sack where your nuts used to be, and saying, "doctor, I need help," but then the doctor would say, "sure, that'll be nine-hundred bits please". SO WHY THE FUCK CAN THIS LONG-NOSED MOTHERFUCKER CHARGE NINE-THOUSAND TWO-HUNDRED AND FOUR BITS FOR A FUCKING FUTON? I'M TIRED OF CHILLING ON TWILIGHT'S COUCH. IT'S OLD, MUSTY, SHORT, AND SMELLS LIKE WIDE-OPEN NERD ASS. THIS MONEY-GRUBBING, SON OF A BITCH PONY JUST FUCKED WITH THE WRONG MOTHERFUCKER. THIS WEEK HAS BEEN KINDA SHITTY, CELESTIA, SO I'M JUST LETTING YOU KNOW THAT I'M GONNA GAS THIS GUY'S HOUSE. STOP ME OR WHATEVER. Peace, Anonymous the Pissed-Off Motherfucking Nazi (temp) Celestia's eyes widened, her wings unfurled, and she leapt through her window into the afternoon sky. Sighting Ponyville, she lit her horn and teleported into town. It was when she arrived that she realized she had no idea how to get to Filthy Rich's. And yes, she knew what pony to expect, given Anon's rantings. So, she began to look upon the ground from the skies, her eyes moving quickly and desperately. If Anon did what he was claiming, then not only would Equestria have a massive outcry for Anon's exile, but Anon's own social prejudices would become increasingly more violent. He is a man to hold a grudge, unfortunately. By some stroke of luck, she managed to spot Anon stomping his way towards a home, a long metallic tube and a gas mask in his hands. His brow was knit in rage and his steps were angry and jerky. He lifted the cannister over his head and threw it through a window, then fastened the mask to his face before leaping inside. Celestia let out a cry and dove down after him. The hiss of gas being released made Celestia's blood run cold. If what Anon had told her was true... Zipping through the window and crashing through the pantry door, Celestia was horrified to see... Anon spreading his ass cheeks wide and releasing his pent-up gaseous rage upon the bound and gagged (both meanings) earth pony. The pony's eyes were wide and his face green, and he thrashed wildly while Anon continued to push out the abominable stench. The gas mask snapped to Celestia, and Anon clapped his ass back together. Anon stared Celestia dead in the face, never even breathing. Then, quick as lightning, he let loose a little poot and jumped out the whole window in Filthy's kitchen, doing a combat roll and taking off at a sprint down the street, bringing attention to his pantless self as his verdant butt waggled in front of Ponyville's market.
Living Arrangements"This is such bullshit, oh my god." Anon glared down at the table in front of him as Twilight gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The faceless man's attitude soured every time her hoof returned to his body, and he twitched ever so slightly with every contact she made. "I'm not writing these stupid buddy lesson letters to your stupid ruler with the fag-flag hair. It's unnatural for men to do this and I reject it with my very being." Twilight shrugged and began to trot away. "Write one of these letters every week or leave. It's up to you, Anon." Anon sat at the table, staring at the quill, parchment, and full bottle of black ink with barely-contained frustration. He didn't want to pay Twilight to stay in her library, that would entail getting a job and working under these moot-forsaken ponies. Anon's fists trembled with shame and rage at his current predicament. He could either get a boss that would be a pony, or write letters to the ruler of their country every week detailing his interactions– however limited they may be– with the ponies of Ponyville. His hand shaking, Anon grabbed the quill and plunged it into the ink. "Dear... Princess... Celestia..." His voice came through clenched teeth, invisible behind the cloth that covered his face twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. His scribbling ended after writing those three words. Anon then realized that he would actually need to do things in order to write to the fat white shitlord that smiled down upon her cotton-candy country and its autistic, prismatic residents. And he would need to spend time with these autists. "Jesus, now I know what the Pope feels like," Anon grumbled. He stood up and made his way to the kitchen, looking for something to eat. With enough brainfood, Anon supposed he could spin a tall tale and send it off without a hitch, not like that chubby bitch would know anyway. Nor would she care about him, either. He opened the cabinet above the counter and reached inside for his jar of peanut butter. Getting it within his grasp, Anon proceeded to open it and stick a knife inside to retrieve the creamy substance. Hearing a glassy, hollow clink, Anon's hand flexed around the jar and shattered it. He turned around and saw Spike at the table, a peanut-butter sandwich between his claws. The man wanted to punch Spike in the face so hard that the dragon would fossilize, but Twilight had a very strict no-violence rule around the library, and especially with that scaled thieving fuckhole. With no other outlet to turn to, Anon stomped back into the foyer and slammed his hands onto the table, grabbing up the quill and beginning to furiously scribble his letter to Princess Celestia. Heavy breaths came from the lithe man as he ignored the shards of glass in his hand, instead channeling the pain into furious, hungry rage that was then transliterated into written word. Signing off on the letter, Anon then re-entered the kitchen and shoved the scroll of paper into Spike's peanut buttery throat before pulling the dragon's tail and watching flames erupt from his nose. Spike then entered a coughing fit and Anon watched as the scroll left Spike's mouth and wafted out the open kitchen window. Princess Celestia sat within her study, content with the way the day was going. Looking up from a novel she was currently invested in, she saw a cloud of green smoke enter into her room from the balcony door and coalesce in front of her. Twilight had told Celestia of her plan to get Anon writing some friendship letters, and Celestia agreed, seeing the value it would hold for Anon. Even if the cynical human couldn't see its usefulness, it would do him a lot of good. The scroll materialized and dropped onto Celestia's pillow, and the first thing she became distinctly aware of was the overpowering smell of peanut butter. Levitating the scroll in her magic, she unfurled it and blanched immediately. Soaked in blood and covered in splotches of peanut butter, Anon's first letter was a bit of a shock. It was also horribly unhygienic and concerning for Celestia as to what exactly Anon had done to the poor dragon. The best way to find out, she supposed, was through the letter she now had in her possession. Dear Princess Celestia, I wake up this morning, stretching my arms and legs, smacking my lips and smelling the fresh morning air. I had a good night of rest and my day was going well until about eleven fifty-seven in the morning. Twilight told me that I would have to write these stupid fucking things each week if I wanted to stay under her roof. And, like a complete jew, I detested the idea of spending money to live, and so I guess the existence of this means that I agreed. Fuck me, right? So I'm thinking of what to write to you for the first time. I was going to bullshit the entire thing like a high school paper, but I needed to eat so I could think straight. I walk into the kitchen to get my jar of peanut butter. Notice how I underlined "my". To my horrified discovery, someone has finished my peanut butter and had the gall to leave the empty fucking jar behind like it was a fucking condom wrapper. I turn around, and– lo and behold– there is Spike, with a peanut butter motherfucking sandwich in his claws. He went into the cabinet where I keep all of my food stuff, he opened my jar, took the last of my peanut butter, and PUT THE FUCKING THING BACK. THIS CUM-GUZZLING, SCALY, SHIT-FOR-BRAINS USELESS SIDEKICK STOLE MY FUCKING PEANUT BUTTER AND THEN PUT THE JAR BACK. THIS DEFIES ALL CODE OF COMMON ETIQUETTE WHEN PERUSING CABINETRY, AND I AM APPALLED BY THIS FAG'S IGNORANCE AND RETARDATION. I DON'T KNOW IF YOU CAN GIVE A DRAGON DOWN'S SYNDROME WITH MAGIC, BUT TWILIGHT MUST'VE FOUND A WAY BECAUSE THIS STUNTED FUCKBOY IS WAY OUTTA LINE. I MEAN YOU SHOULD SEE HIM JUST STRUGGLE TO LIVE. WHEN HE RUNS, HIS ENTIRE BODY STAYS STOCK STILL WHILE HIS LEGS START SWINGING. HOW OLD SHOULD HE BE BY NOW? BECAUSE THERE'S NO DOUBT THAT HE WOULD BE IN SCHOOL IF IT WASN'T FOR HIS RAGING CASE OF SUDDEN INFANT FUCKHEAD SYNDROME. I SWEAR IT'S LIKE HE ISN'T EVEN A PERSON, LIKE HE'S SO SLOW THAT WE ALL LIVE IN THE PRESENT AND HIS MIND ACTUALLY WORKS BACKWARDS, AND UPSIDE DOWN. HE HAD A TWENTY MINUTE ARGUMENT WITH AN OWL WHEN IT ASKED HIM "WHO?" LIKE HOLY COCK HOW STUPID ARE YOU? BUT THEN I REALIZED HE WAS A DOWN'S AUTIST WITH ADVANCED CEREBRAL PALSY AND AN ORPHAN THAT GOT ADOPTED BY A SCHIZOPHRENIC NEAT FREAK AND I ALMOST FELT BAD BEFORE I PUNTED HIM INTO A LAKE. I HOPE THE FUCK DROWNS. ~Anonymous Celestia lowered the letter slowly, her face serene. Slowly, and ever so slightly, Celestia's face contorted into a smile. This was some of the most entertaining shit she had read from a sentient being in a while. She would be looking forward to more from Anon. With that, she set the letter aside on her table and designated that the new position for the pile of letters she would most likely be receiving from Anon in the coming weeks. Author's Note how offensive lol
I Have No CandyTo Her Royal Highness Celestia Nova Solaris, Before I begin this little tale of bum-fuckery, you should know that it was 100% not my fault. Those three are extremely impressionable, to the point of being borderline zombies. They came scrambling up to me, and scuffed my shoes in their rush. Naturally, I reacted in an appropriate matter and demanded recompense for their destruction of my private property. When I learned they had no money, I told them to "begin polishing". Now, I don't know how things work here, but back on Earth TEN YEAR-OLD GIRLS DON'T TRY TO SLOBBER ON YOUR DICK. I DON'T KNOW IF PONIES GROW UP FASTER OR IF YOU TEACH THEM FUCKED UP SEXUALLY DEVIOUS SHIT REALLY EARLY, BUT WHAT THE FUCK?! I'VE HAD THREE UNDERAGE FILLIES CHASING ME AROUND TOWN "EAGER" TO "BEGIN POLISHING". NOW MOST, IF NOT ALL, OF PONYVILLE THINKS I'M EITHER A PEDOPHILE OR A PLAYER. OR BOTH. I CAN'T EVEN GET INSIDE THE LIBRARY ANYMORE, BECAUSE TWILIGHT– THE DUMB FUCKIN' CUNT– LOCKED ME OUT. AND THEY'RE STILL LOOKING FOR MY ASS. Or my dick, rather. I'M HOLED UP IN A CAVE WITH NOTHING BUT A BEAR AND A TIMBERWOLF. Oh, and Spike. I managed to swipe him from Twilight. Had to jump out a window, but he absorbed most of the impact. ANYWAY, THE BEAR SMELLS LIKE A NEW JERSEY SEWAGE PIPE AND THE TIMBERWOLF KEEPS LIGHTING ITSELF ON FIRE. FOUR TIMES. FOUR. FUCKING. TIMES. I HAVE BEEN PARTIALLY SET ON FIRE FOUR GODDAMN TIMES. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR COUNTRY AND ITS CITIZENS. I SHOULD HAVE GONE TO THE GRIFFONS, AT LEAST THEY HAVE BACON. Fuck Equestria and Everyone in it (except for you), Anonymous (Hates It Here) PS– Please save my ass, Princess Author's Note what three attacked him are up to you, but it should be fairly obvious
