Worse Stories For Worse People

1242 hours.

Scootaloo stood within the heavy jungles of Africa. She had her Gerber Hunting Camping Survival Senior Gator Machete Knife 31-000758 out, and she was hacking away at the foliage of the forest. This was Scootaloo’s final mission as a Sergeant. She would be promoted to Captain at the end of this tour of duty.

One last mission for her, and she would forever be a hero for the cause. She would have wiped out the Muslim menace threatening our wonderful country called Amer-Equestria I literally can NEVER FUCKING TYPE IT FUCK YOU.

She took one final swipe at the Plantae Pteridophyta Pteridopsida Cyatheales in front of her, to reveal a small opening in the forest. Light shone from the canopy layer, and onto a small wooden hut. She squinted.

“Hmmm… this is where those fucking terrorists are.”

Scootaloo pulled her Mark XIX IMI Desert Eagle .50 Cal Action Express Pistol from her Magnum Research Nylon Tactical Thigh Holster. Ahh, her trusty Mark XIX IMI Desert Eagle .50 Cal Action Express Pistol. It’s never let her down. The muslims she’s killed with it.

She walked inside the little hut. Suddenly, a trap door opening. It was a trap! Typical back stabbing Muslim cunts.

She landed, and she blacked out.

Upon awakening, she noticed she was tied to a IKEA Kungsvik sand Börje Chair with Syneco 4mm x 20m Polypropylene Rope. She struggled, to no avail. Suddenly, a Philips LED Light Globe 5.5W Warm White lit up, and she could see clearly.

Several Muslim men stood around her, holding Izhmash AK-47 7.62x39mm Caliber Fully Automatic Assault Rifles. One approached her.

“Well, missus Scootaloo, it appears you’ve gotten yourself tied up in a little mess.”

“That’s Sergeant Scootaloo to you, you fucking anti-Americ-EQUESTRIAN cunt.”

“Too bad, because you will die!”

The muslims pointed their guns at her.

Drat, she thought, looks like I am fucked.

“Any last words?”

“Allah isn’t real, the holocaust didn’t happen, 9/11 was a hoax, God bless the 2nd Amendment. Wake up, sheeple.”

“I wish I didn’t as-”

BAM! And the Muslim is gone!

Scootaloo had managed to escape from the loosely tied Syneco 4mm x 20m Polypropylene Rope. Typical Muslims, too fucking lazy to tie up a fucking chair properly. She threw the IKEA Kungsvik sand Börje Chair at the Muslim. It hit him and he died, I guess. It’d hurt a lot.

She hid behind the Muslim’s corpse as bullets started flying. Desperately, she pulled her Mark XIX IMI Desert Eagle .50 Cal Action Express Pistol from her Magnum Research Nylon Tactical Thigh Holster, and started shooting at the Muslims.

They died.

She snuck through a Hume Doors & Timber Chic Artisan Oak Interior Door into a long, dark hallway. Speaking of dark, you know what I’m sick of? Niggers. Stop complaining about how you need “more rights” and how you are “racially profiled”. You’re just a bunch of whiney freaks who need to grow some balls. You niggers were fucking slaves back in the good old days, so stop fucking complaining! What the fuck is wrong with minorities these days, thinking they can be “equal” to the obviously-superior white race? Don’t make me come after you with my Colt M16A3 Select-fire 5.56 Cal Assault Rifle with a custom Rainbow Dash themed paint job!

She went through the halls of the bunker, looking for her target.

She finally saw it, written on a Hume Doors & Timber Chic Artisan Oak Interior Door.

OSAMA BIN LADEN’S HIDEOUT

NO AM-EQUESTRIANS (or girls) ALLOWED

“Well, it seems that I am a girl, and I am Americ-EQUESTRIAN FUCKING HELL, but I’m still going in!”

She kicked the door open, and pointed her Mark XIX IMI Desert Eagle .50 Cal Action Express Pistol at a Leather Chesterfield Nadia Office Chair. The Leather Chesterfield Nadia Office Chair slowly turned, revealing the bearded figure of OSAMA BIN LADEN.

“Well, it appears you have found me, Mrs. Scootaloo,” Osama said.

“That’s Sgt. Scootaloo to you, Osama,” Scootaloo said with a wheeze.

“It does not matter what I call you… as you WILL DIE!” Osama said, pulling out a Heckler & Koch 14702BK Entourage AUTO 3.74" Black Plain Drop Point Blade Aluminum Handled Knife and throwing it into Scootaloo’s stomach.

She fell over, gasping in pain.

“I have won, Mrs. Scootaloo! MUAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! America- FUCK I FUCKING MEAN EQUESTRIA FUCKING SHIT FUCK is doomed!”

“Not today, you Muslim faggot!” Scootaloo said.

She raised her Mark XIX IMI Desert Eagle .50 Cal Action Express Pistol at him and fired. It hit him in the head. He died.

“I have saved Americ-EQUESTRIA FOR FUCKS SAKE, but at the cost of my own life. I would gladly die again for this country.”

Suddenly, Captain Big Mac picked her up.

“We have a Code 42069911, Ah repeat, we had a code 42069911. Requestin’ an airlift.”

“Oh thank you Cpt. Big Mac!”

“That’s what friends are for, lil’ Sgt. Scootaloo.”

He carried her out of the dungeon, where there was a Boeing Twin Engine Tandem Rotor CH-47 Chinook Heavy Lift Helicopter waiting for them. Captain Big Mac carried Scootaloo inside, and placed her on a medical bed. The Boeing Twin Engine Tandem Rotor CH-47 Chinook Heavy Lift Helicopter lifted off and flew away, back to America FUCKING SHIT I MEAN EQUESTRIA FOR FUCKING FUCK SAKE FUCK THIS FUCK FUCK FUUUUCK!!!

There was a huge ceremony, and all of Scootaloo’s friends were there. She stood proudly atop a podium, as Captain Big Mac pinned the new badge to her jacket. She saluted Big Mac, and in return, he saluted back.

She trotted to the microphone, and began her speech.

“It’s been a great honour serving my country which I always fuck up typing. I’d like to thank George Washington for writing the Bill of Rights, especially the second amendment. I’d like to thank the creator of slavery, which was a great thing. I’d like to thank Hitler, for trying to wipe out the filthy Jewish race. Thank you.”