The Story With No Title

by Mark Garg von Herbalist

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random
Length: 1757

Lucky goes on a mission of the utmost importance. Will he succeed? Will he fail? Only time will tell in this amazing story.

Lucky goes on a mission of the utmost importance. Will he succeed? Will he fail? Only time will tell in this amazing story.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-06-06 18:30:01 UTC

And No Story

The door to a quaint house opens and a stallion steps outside into the wonderful world that Ponyville is blessed to be a part of. His light gray coat, freshly bathed with the finest bargain brand shampoo money can buy, shines in the afternoon sun. The gentle breeze blows through his soft, dark gray mane, and he closes his gorgeous light blue eyes to get a more intimate smell of the air around. The scent is fresh with the smell of blooming flowers, fresh baked pastries and the joy of little children.

It is a perfect day.

The stallion slowly opens his eyes and grins straight ahead at the colorfully decorated wooden structures of Ponyville.

“I'm so handsome, right now,” he says to himself.

As much as this dashingly handsome stallion wants to enjoy the day with peace and goodwill, he knows he cannot, for he has a very important job to do. Some will not understand how important it is, others will think it is the most important mission to date. He will have to agree with the latter and tell the former to grow up. It is a gilded world, after all, and someone has to take care of the ugliness that hides beneath the peace. Someone has to take the fight to the enemy. And what better time to do it on a sunny day with light cloud coverage with a high of seventy five, a low of sixty two and a five mile per hour wind breeze going south east with a seventeen percent chance of rain?

The day is perfect for his mission.

The stallion takes a step on to the soft grass of his lawn, but freezes when a mare calls him from inside the house.

“Lucky, are you going to the store?”

The really, really, really ridiculously good looking stallion, Lucky, sighs and barely looks at the door, wishing she would just make him his sandwiches instead of interrupting him on his important mission.

“Yes I am, Bon Bon,” lies Lucky.

“Could you pick up some fruity snacks for Twist while you're there? And some eggs, too?”

Lucky's ears droop with a huff. “Fine.” His whole demeanor perks up again, however, when he remembers that the mission comes first. “But I'll do that after I run some errands!”

Before Bon Bon can say any more, he bolts off down the road, leaving a dust cloud in his wake.

The clean streets of Ponyville become a blur as Lucky gallops down the freshly raked dirt roads. The colors mesh into poorly fused blobs of nasty colors, his hooves barely touching the roads that remain unpaved due to budget cuts.

He zips through the clean allies that are free of graffiti and lazy hobos. He passes cookie cutter houses and vague businesses. And he might have pushed a filly into one of those big mailboxes that are bolted  into the ground, but since he can barely see his surroundings, he just ignores the thought and the wails of pain in the distance.

Lucky skids to a stop at a cross road, lungs burning, knees buckling, throat itching and his killer eyes darting at every possible path as delicious globs of salty stallion sweat dribble off of him.

He cannot stand sitting still, though, for every second that he waits, that is another second the great enemy has to destroy the great fabric of society and the greatness of everything that comes from the great society and its great ideals. The great evil cannot be allowed to grow any longer, and by Celestia, Lucky will save everyone from a terrible fate because he is just a great guy like that.

Plus its Tuesday.

Tuesdays are boring.

Thinking about the blandness of Tuesday, his head snaps to the left with a rabid snarl. Only the enemy would like something bland. Like a fancy restaurant with only ten overpriced things on their menu!

Lucky bolts down the road again, leaving a gash in the road and snorting hot air through his nose. He jumps through a window of a pottery shop, showering the workers and shoppers with shards of broken glass, and he shoves a pony into a display of pottery. The pony he shoved yells from shock and pain as their back hits the tower of clay vases, causing a cascade of carefully crafted goods to fall and break against the floor and the unfortunate pony's head and back. Lucky does not care, though. That pony should have known better than to get in his way!

Lucky's hooves screech against the tile of the shop, and he screams madly as his shoulder collides with the backdoor, blowing it right off of its hinges in a spectacle of shattered wood and destroyed door knobs. He stumbles into an alley and falls face first into a puddle of mud, but quickly jumps to his hooves and continues running.

When Lucky rounds another corner, he sees a stack of crates propped against a bleach white brick wall that surrounds a Mediterranean style building. Knowing that behind that wall is his destination, he uses what little adrenaline he has, tells his aching muscles and shriveled lungs to shut their traps, and makes one last push.

Using amazing speed and his fantastic gymnastic abilities that he learned when he acted gay just for attention, he leaps on the crates, front flips on another crate, then soars to the top of the wall. It is thinner than he thought, but after a quick stumble and a near fall, he gains his footing and runs across the skinny top.

He looks down below and sees well dressed ponies sitting around tables, enjoying their meal in quiet conversations, weak giggles, and boring music. Such a terrible fate to be rich, but, as much as Lucky wants to feel sorry for them, he cannot. They made their choices.

But even then, there is still one rich pony he knows needs his help, for she unknowingly harbors the titanic evil that resides in her closest companion of the opposite gender. She has been played, and he cannot let a mare as sweet as her to continue unknowingly sow the seeds of cataclysmic destruction with the fertilizer of love.

In his thoughts, Lucky's superb eyesight spots the damsel in distress and the vile villain that has slowly vanquished her free will right under her nose. Narrowing his eyes, Lucky runs along the wall again until he is at the right distance. And then he leaps off.

He coils his hoof for a strike, feeling the epic blessing from the Beat Down God surging through his hoof like a lightning storm while an electric guitar solo plays in his brain. However, none of the patrons or servants seem to realize Lucky's hawk-like assault until he roars like a chieftain of a successful war tribe.

“KA-PLAAAHHH!!!”

Everyone looks, and the target barely has a chance to turn his head from his delicious dandelion salad when Lucky's muscular hoof collides with his fragile, little filly jaw. Patrons and servants alike shriek and leap back as the unfortunate victim's head snaps to the side and a single, pearly white tooth flies out of his mouth. The victim jerks off of his seat and falls to the ground, getting a cheek full of decorated concrete and Lucky lands on the expensive table, shattering its glass frame when it tilts over. He rolls on the ground, kicking away dining ware and the table cloth in the process as tossed salad and mixed drinks stick to his fur. When he jumps to his hooves, he whoops, hoof pumps then turns and bows theatrically to the crowd of shocked ponies.

“No need to thank me. I'm only doing the right thing,” says Lucky, hunching over, panting and wheezing and sweating away his weight while having to grab another table for support.

“Lucky, what the hell!?” scolds a unicorn mare wearing a white dress with a shiny gold collar.

“I just saved you from Brad, my waifu,” says Lucky proudly, hoof to his puffed out chest and unbrushed teeth exposed from his massive grin.

“That's not Brad, that's Caramel! You just punched my date!” says the mare.

“What?”

Lucky does a double take and realizes that the mare is not his waifu, but some mint green pony with a light blue and white striped mane and golden eyes. And boy is she ugly. In fact, her ugliness reminds him of a mare that Bon Bon likes to hang out with for some reason, but for the life of him, he can't remember her name. He's certain her name begins with a letter of the alphabet, though. That said, he is not thrilled by this imposter not being the mare he is trying to protect from the greatest threat to Equestrian stability.

“Hey, you aren't Twilight!” says Lucky.

He then looks at the pony he just super-pony punched and sees that his victim is someone completely different from his target. Species, coat, build, everything. Heck, he's just some disgusting, amber coated, brown maned digger and not that feather brained menace to all things decent!

“And you aren't Brad!” says Lucky. He looks at the not-waifu and points at her with narrowed eyes. “You didn't see me.”

And then he gallops to a trimmed hedge and totally ninja's a front-flip out of sight over it, leaving a dumbstruck crowd to stare at Lucky's victim, who is still lying on the ground. Whimpering. And missing a tooth. And wondering what the heck just happened.

It sucks to be Caramel.

OOOOO

In the comfortable room of Princess Twilight Sparkle, Flash Sentry suddenly looks up from his really thick book full of big and complex words, which he had been reading on the queen sized bed. His brows furrow and his feathers ruffle as he stares straight out the window that is next to the bed, taking in the amazing view of Ponyville with the utmost caution.

Twilight sits up from her spot on the bed and gently puts her hoof on Flash Sentry's shoulder and looks at him worryingly. “Flash, are you okay?”

Flash Sentry shakes his head. “No. I just got this strange feeling that people want to punch me for absolutely no reason.”

Twilight giggles and plants a loving kiss on his cheek. “Oh, relax, Flash. Who would want to hurt a sweet pony like you?”

A rapidly growing, stallion shaped shadow from outside suddenly descends on the couple and-

“KA-PLAAAHHH!!!”

---THE END---