Bill O’Reilly Writes a 2nd Person Clopfic
By
Bill O’Reilly
Disclaimer: Bill O’ Reilly is the sole owner of My Little Pony. He also wears shoes that cost more then you make in a month and has a lien on your mothers house.
Today is an average day, it’s almost closing time at your work place. You’re an assistant manager at a Costco superstore where you don’t do anything but sit around pushing paper and act like a dickhead because you have a type A personality and yell all the time. You get frustrated easily because you can’t get laid because you’re ugly. Almost all your employees hate you because you’re useless and play games on the computer in your office all day. Even the head store manager thinks you’re a scrawny limp wrist pile of dog s**t; he shook your hand once; your handshake is weak and clammy like a senile elderly woman, it disgusts him.
He immediately writes you off as a worthless human being. You only got the job because he plays golf with your dad who never spent time with you when you were a child. You hastily pack up your paper work in your man purse; unfortunately there is nothing manly about it. You’re angry again because your employee’s keep drawing pictures of you with a phallic symbol in your mouth on the bathroom stalls but your too spineless to do anything about it because you have the muscle tone of a 13 year old. You waste of life.
You walk out to the parking lot and get in you brand new Toyota Tacoma pick up truck. You have no need for a truck because you’ve never worked a day in your life and you’re paying $500 a month at %18 interest because you didn’t read the contract. Idiot. But the truck makes you feel better about the lack of girth between your legs so you have it anyway.
As you pull out of the parking lot you turn your radio on. Your taste in music is almost as bad as Rick Perry at debating. You're listing to Dub Step as loud as your stock stereo can go and turn up the bass with out adjusting the treble like an asshole. Your truck vibrates the parking lot. It sounds like your truck is about to fall apart as the booming bass vibrates the cheap plastic panels in the interior. You think it makes you look cool so you roll all your windows down so people can see your nasty acne ridden face. The simple drum loop and obnoxious computer generated noises is easy for your simple mind to comprehend so it soothes your anger. Everybody in traffic around you hates you.
You pull out on the freeway and head to your mother’s house where you live because you’re a leech. You can’t wait to get home so you can sit on your flat non-existent ass and play SkyRim until 1 in the morning in your basement room. When you not busy playing pointless computer games you spend time arguing with grade school kids on the Internet because it’s easy to look tough behind a computer. You drive along thinking of your massive collection of anime porno’s that you wax your carrot to. Most of it borderlines child pornography, you should be ashamed of yourself but your not because your morality is lower then your sperm count. You're a bigger drain on society then single teen moms.
As you drive along you notice a small red Ford Fiesta tailgating you. You feel superior in your big truck so you give it a quick brake job. It swerves and screeches its brakes but you drive like you’re from New York and shouldn't have been riding your brakes anyway. The driver throws his little 5-speed fiesta into 2nd and burns rubber. He shoots around you and cuts you off at the next traffic light. You just got on the wrong side of the leader of the local chapter of the Hell’s Angels and he just dropped his hog off at the shop and was using a loner car.
He get’s out and struts over to your door and puts his fist through the side window and grabs you by your pencil neck. He yanks you out and tosses you on the pavement. Your face brakes your fall. He grabs you by the collar again and begins to plow his fat hairy knuckles into your face. He beats you like a bitch in front of everybody. When the police arrive and arrest him they have to use two sets of handcuffs to clamp his hands behind his back. It’s too late for you. He has already beaten you into bloody mess. Everything goes dark you pass out.
You wake up in a bright fresh smelling meadow and get to your feet. As you walk through the land you realize you’re in a cartoon world. But not just any cartoon world, you're in the magical land of Equestria. You recognize it because you’ve spanked your monkey to pony porn many times because you can’t just watch midget porn like normal people. You pansy. You pick up a jog along a dirt road after seeing a sign that say’s “Ponyville 1 mile”, you can see it off in the distance. After a few minute you cramp up and slow to a walk because you’re as inactive as road kill.
You finally stumble into Ponyville. All the colorful ponies stare at you. You smell bad and your patchy attempt at a mustache creeps them out so they all avoid you. Across the way Lyra sits at a table sipping a hayshake while BonBon stands next to her.
“It was amusing the first time but these things need to stop coming here.” Lyra said to BonBon.
“Were going to have to kill it again aren’t we.” BonBon says flatly.
“Yup”
Lyra use’s her unicorn magic and levitates a Colt Woodsman automatic pistol up next to her head, it has a long black silencer attached to the barrel. Her magic pulls back the receiver and chambers a round in the breech. She squints her eyes as she takes a long hard look at you.
As you walk through the Market in Ponyville you notice Twilight Sparkle. She has just bought a dozen tomatoes and is packing them into her saddlebags when she notices you creeping on her.
“Time to get some hot unicorn ass!” you think to yourself.
You tear off your white button up shirt and drop to your knee and profess your love for her. On your left arm you have tattoo in some Asian language it means love or power or something queer like that, you can’t speak the language but you have it anyway. Your bony chest, pasty skin and stupid tattoo repulses her. She backs away but you dive at her, she skittishly falls to her rump she levitates a can of mace out of her saddlebags and lets a stream of mace fly in your face. You scream like girl, you close your eyes and flail you grotesquely long and skinny arms around trying to grab her.
Just then Pinkie Pie burst out of the pile of tomatoes in the tomato cart. She is yielding a shiny brass tuba, she swings hard into your head. Your dome dents the tuba’s bell as your knocked unconscious for a second time. Twilight sighs in relief.
“Thanks Pinkie Pie! I’m sure lucky to have a friend as random as you.”
Pinkie Pie drops the tuba on the ground and hops down of the cart and lands on your face.
“Not a problem Twilight.” said Pinkie through a wide smile.
She pulls a single business card out of her mane with her hoof and tosses it toward Twilight. Twilight catches it with her magic and looks at it. A slow and deliberate staccato trumpet fanfare plays as she reads it.
In the center is a black Knight chess piece
“Have Tuba Will Travel
Wire Pinkie Pie, Ponyville”
It reads.
Twilight watches as Pinkie rears up and whinnies, she gallops across the bonanza that is Equestria into the setting sun.
Have tuba will travel reads the card of a pony, a knight without armor in a savage land. Her fast tuba for hire she’s the calling wind. A pony of fortune is the mare called Pinkie Pie. Pinkie Pie, Pinkie Pie where do you roam?
Just then Rainbow dash sweeps Twilight off her hooves and they begin to make out and they totally do it. I won’t go into detail but it involved Twilight's horn a tube sock and a Ducati 1098 motorcycle. It was so hot some brony blew his krusty load all over his keyboard.
You wake up again in a daze and find yourself hogtied before Princess Celestia in her castle. Twilight has filed a restraining order on you and you must stay 1000 feet away from her at all times you also can’t go near playgrounds or other places where there are small foals because you are now a registered sex offender in Equestria. But that’s not necessary because the princess thinks the moon is too good for you and locks you away in the dungeon below her castle and throws away the key.
You’re tossed into a dark and damp cell by a royal guard. Behind you hear heavy breathing. The massive steroid prone pony from “Hurricane Fluttershy” is standing behind you breathing heavy. He’s your cellmate. He’s doing hard time for selling bootleg dvd’s in the Ponyville market. He wraps his forelegs around you and licks your neck and face. What happens next is hard for you to remember. I won’t go into detail but you get violated by a horse and discover that the word “hoof” can also be a verb.
In the castle above you Twilight Sparkle and all her friends have a big roller-skate disco party and do a synchronized dance to “Video Killed the Radio Star.”
Outside the castle BonBon stands up to help Lyra climb through a small window on the foundation of the castle
“Hey! Watch my mane.” BonBon hissed as Lyra stepped on her head reaching for the window.
“I’m almost there.”
Lyra squeezes through the window and hops down into the castle dungeon the cells are almost all empty but she finds yours easily by following your stench. You’re curled up in a fetal position weeping quietly to yourself in a corner of the cell when you notice a sea foam green unicorn in front of your cell. You get to you knees and beg for help. She just glares at you with angry eyes. She doesn’t say a word as her magic swiftly pulls a Colt Woodsman pistol from a black basket weave holster around her waist. It floats in front of her face as she takes aim.
Her magical hold on the pistol pulls the trigger and she empties the clip of .22’s into your chest. The silencer smokes as the bolt knocks back into the receiver creating a metallic slapping noise that echoes through the dungeon. You fall back in searing pain and stare at the dungeon ceiling as you bleed out from the small holes that pepper your chest. Everything gets dark and you pass out. God, you suck.
You wake up bolt upright in a hospital bed. You see humans again and realize it was all a dream. The doctors tell you that you need a big dose of “man the f**k up” and send you on your way. A week later you are found dead in your closet hanging from a noose. The police call it a suicide but you were too gutless to kill yourself. The truth is you died trying to choke yourself while you ran one up your flagpole.
Your mother’s Mexican maid finds your body with your junk still in your hand. She reaches in your pocket and pulls out your wallet and pockets two $20 bills before calling the police. No one comes to your funeral except your mother. No one misses you, not even your dog.
Meanwhile Bill O’Reilly arrives at an expensive Italian restaurant in a limo that cost’s more than your life. I order the most expensive thing on the menu and my bill is in the triple digits. I pay it with pocket change and don’t even leave a tip. Because I’m Bill O’Reilly.
For Keith Olbermann…you bastard.
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