My Little Parodashie

by StolenMemes

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Comedy, Other, Princess Celestia, Alternate Universe, Human, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 1958

A lonely man walking down the street finds a filly Rainbow Dash in a box, but doesn't get what he expects.

A lonely man thinking about how shitty his life is while walking down the street one fateful day finds a filly Rainbow Dash in a box, but doesn't get what he expects. In fact, its quite different from what he expects.

Rated teen for language.

Original story here.

Published 2015-10-05 20:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-10-05 20:40:02 UTC

-Insert Chapter Title Here-

I live my life, one day at a time. A good portion of those days are uneventful, always falling in the same routine: I wake up, fantasize about my imaginary girlfriends who look and act just like Rainbow Dash, walk to my job at McDonalds, work, walk home, then return to my fantasy about Rainbow Dash until I go to bed and have dreams about Rainbow Dash. Sometimes, I'll hang with my few friends (which just so happen to be all my My Little Pony plush toys), while other times I'll just play Call of Duty: Black Ops or watch My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Every so often, something new and interesting happens: I write a non-erotic fanfic, I find a dollar on the ground, or I get chased by Jahovah's witnesses.

Living in Detroit, Michigan isn't very fun or interesting. This city was once full of life and color, but now... now most of the houses are sagging, the businesses sit empty and abandoned, and now, the media makes the police force look like a bunch of racists. I had never seen this city during those times in person, but I have seen pictures. My mother and father lived happy, and they could only wish the same for me growing up.

Sadly, I cannot say I have achieved that wish of theirs.

I've fallen into the same dull routine: Wake, fantasize, work, fantasize, sleep, repeat. I do have some moments of bliss, but the daily struggles I go through outweigh the small moments of joy I have. My Little Pony has helped, but it's still just another thing to give my hopes up on. Every time I see the show, or one of the ponies on a fan site, I recoil a bit at the bright colors, the beautiful faces of the ponies, and the seductive scenery of their world. It's so hard to look at that beautiful world, having it so close to my grasp; I reach out to touch it's warm colors and bright, smiling faces of the ponies.

Only to be stopped by my computer screen.

I snapped back to reality. It gets to the point where sometimes, i'll just simply shut down my computer and walk away so I can go fondle a Rainbow Dash plush toy. I do that a lot, especially after my parents died. I write smut about Rainbow Dash, not Apple Jack, not Fluttershy, not anypony but Rainbow Dash. When I feel sad, I write smut. When I feel tired, I write smut. When I feel like writing smut... I write smut. Writing smut about Rainbow Dash has become my second life in a sense; I spend at least half my day reading and writing about Rainbow Dash and her...

Sorry for the delay, but this part has been censored out due to the writer not wanting to go into detail or give this story a mature rating. So please, enjoy the rest of the story.

I've seen people come and go. I've seen buildings torn down, burned up, or have so much graffiti on its walls that its original color is unrecognizable. I very rarely pass any other people on my way to work. Most people don't like to look at their once beautiful city, their homes or former businesses. I don't blame them. In fact I envy them. They saw this place with their own two eyes, seeing the buildings still standing tall and proud, the lawns freshly cut, the paved roads, and sidewalks still intact.

The only thing I've ever seen that even comes close is my mother's paintings, each of them are colorful scenes of this concrete world. She started painting once everything crumbled beneath her feet, making the sad scenery before her look beautiful. Her masterpiece is of my father walking out the door, with suitcase in hand while giving a four year old me the finger. Over it, she drew a light brown noose, in which she was about to hang herself from. It is my favorite picture. I guess that is part of why I like Rainbow Dash the most out of all the other ponies. Her colors, the amazing sonic rainboom, all remind me of that picture.

There have been times I wished I had my own Rainbow Dash, to curl up in bed with and cuddle at night and...

Once again, we apologize for the abrupt cut-off, but this scene also cannot be use to the extremely detailed language used. Now, dear reader, you may continue the story.

I've made an old Simba into a "temporary" replacement, until I am able to save enough money for one. It helps, in a way. Like holding it close will heal my wounds, my pain, and my sorrow. My feet, after countless hours of walking in my old shoes, pulsate under the sheet, and all the while, I'll hold that stuffed animal harder than a mother protecting her child. It's the only thing I can look at and feel true joy, even if it isn't physically the Rainbow Dash I so deeply desire.

It will have to do.

Today, as usual, I walked to work. It was the same shit, just a different day, watching the same people enter the McDonalds, grab their Big Mac or Happy Meal or what ever the fat-asses wanted to eat and pay for their food, then walk out with large amounts of fat in tow. My shift ended after several hours of this. I clocked out and started walking home. My co-worker Bob Pantsquare (the fry cook) wanted to talk to me for a bit so to avoid the annoying jackass, I decided to use a different route this time. This part of town was hit the worst; only a few houses still stand, and none of them occupied, and there were shady, thuggish looking with sagged pants around every street corner. It truly is a sad sight to see. Then again, it's really the only sight I see. The only sight I'll ever see.

Or so I thought.

I was stopped by something unusual; a stray cardboard box in the middle of the sidewalk. Now, living in this kind of area I see trash all the time. Boxes, McDonalds cups, and plastic bags that once held marijuana or cocaine or some other kind of drug litter the streets and empty lots, but rarely will I see a cardboard box that isn't crushed in one way or another. I noticed this particular box because it happened to be in my way. During my younger years, I tried to do what I could for the community. I'd pick up trash when I saw it, or I'd attempt to help my neighbors. It was a losing battle. Now-a-days, I'd given up any hope of cleaning this city, much less my neighborhood. Now I'll just pass the trash by, letting it blow away in the breeze or sit there and decompose. I let what's left of the "people" do their own things, since most of them don't care about anyone other than themselves and our lord and savior, Shrek. Why should I be any different?

I walked past the box, barely giving it a glance. Nothing about it caught my attention right away. I continued on, my home not far away now. Upon arriving, I sat down down and played some games, attempting to push the box out of my mind. I had little luck, as the box somehow managed to push it's way back in. Time crept on by, and I soon found myself wanting to go for another walk. I left the house and started down my usual route when I stopped. What was it about that box that made it stick out in my mind? I turned around, starting down the path I had taken to get home, the path that I only walk once in a blue moon. Curiosity got the best of me, and I wanted some closure.

Within minutes I found it, still sitting there, sad and alone among the broken concrete and over-grown grass. It didn't move, it didn't stand out as if it were special. It was an ordinary, brown cardboard box. I didn't want to say I came out here for nothing, so I walked closer to it. As I drew closer, however, I began to notice something inside. It was brightly colored, multiple colors in fact, and was quite small. Maybe the size of a few month old Labrador puppy.

I stopped beside the box, and looked down at the colorful blob inside.

This is where I currently stand: looking into the box at a small... something. No, I know exactly what it is, but my brain isn't allowing me to fully realize it just yet. At first I want to say it's simply a toy, left to die along with all the other things in this block. But it starts breathing. In fact, it appears to be sleeping. My hands are sweating, my breathing erratic, and I'm blinking my eyes trying to refresh my vision.

Each time, the image stays the same. Inside, is a sleeping... filly... Rainbow Dash.

I kneel down, trying to get a closer look into the box. I can't believe what I am seeing. There is not a physical, mental, or extraterrestrial way how this could be here...how she could be here, in my gloomy, dark and horrid world. I examine the box further, and on the side in simple pen says:

“Fuck off, faggot”

"Oh I'll fuck, alright."

I pick up Rainbow Dash and begin to-

"Hey, get away from me!!" She yells as she flies out of my hands, landing on the concrete in font of me. She begins to run away at top speed screaming; "HELP!!! PEDOPHILE!!!"

"Get back here!" I yell as I run towards her, but not before an even bigger horse lands in font of me.

"Now, now, I can't really have you doing that to one of my loyal subjects, much a less a filly, now can I?" The taller horse grins.

I stare at her in awe as I back away. "P- P- Princess Celest-" I respond as I fall to the ground, landing flat on my ass. "I-I-I swear I wasn't going t-"

"ENOUGH!" She interrupts. She turns to the crying filly, whom had curled up in a ball by now. "Now, now, it'll be alright, Celestia is here to save you." She says in a most motherly voice.

Then I noticed the five angry smaller horses surrounding me.

"What should we do with him, Princess Celestia?" The purple one asks in a polite manner.

"Whatever your hearts desire, Twilight Sparkle, as long as you can turn Rainbow Dash back to normal once you're done." Celestia laughs.

They all turn to me, grinning, thinking about the pain they're going to inflict on me. "Shi-" I say before they lunge for me.

"Uhhhhgggg." I mumble as I get up, bloodied and beaten. I start to walk back home when I hear;

"I heard him over here, sir!!" A large and in charge black yells at two police officers.

"Let's get him!" They cheer as they run for me. They eventually catch up to me and tackle me to the ground.

"You have the right to remain silent, Anything you say can and will be used against you." The first officer tells me as he cuffs me.

"It's dirt-bags like you that make me wanna kill myself to escape this hell hole of world." The second one whispers to me. "Enjoy prison, sicko, you have some hard soap-lifting ahead of you." He grins as I cry.