It was a beautiful evening in Equestria. The crickets were chirping, the moon was full. The sky was reddish orange and full of white, shining stars.
Twilight Sparkle was in the Castle of Friendship since she was the Princess of friendship and all.
She was having a slumber party with her five friends Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie. They were all enjoying a nice meal of crumpets and tea for some reason. Seriously? Like, what the fuck is a crumpet?
Spike was already asleep that morning unfortunately, as he had gotten majorly drunk tonight with his friends. He had no friends.
Meanwhile in America, the blessed land of the free,
Donald Trump was walking casually through the halls of his newly built “Hotel Trump” in downtown Washington D.C.
He was bored and looking for something to do so he decided to go outside and hand out lollipops in hopes to win the coming elections in 2016. That damn Hillary. How was she winning? He was doing all he could.
He even said on live television how much he loved the Muslims, Mexicans, and the rest of the more exotic races on Earth. He was perfect in every single way. He was sure the money he was investing in his campaign would ensure his victory.
He exited the last hall, arriving at the front lobby. “Hello, Mr. Trump,” that was his secretary talking. He ignored her. “how was your coffee this morning?”
“It was fine, Lucy. Tasted like that bastard Obama’s morning shit but besides that it was fine.”
She said something else but he walked out the sliding diamond encrusted doors before he could hear.
He started to slowly walk down the street, giving lollipops and buttons to the children on the streets. A very skinny African-American women walked up to him. You could see her ribs, she had scars all over and she looked like she had been sexually and physically abused most of her life. “Mista’!” she cried out pitifully. “Mista’! Please sir, could you spare a dolla’ or two?” She was missing most of her teeth.
“Sure!” Donald Trump replied, giving her his award winning smile.
Pulling out his “My Little Pony Friendship is Magic” wallet, he pulled out two pennies and handed them to her. They were specially printed pennies with his face on them of course.
“Two pennies is all you got, mista? Please… can you spare any mo’? This won’t even buy me a simple meal.”
Trump didn’t like that proposition. He was already being charitable.
“You ungrateful alien pig! Get out of my sight!” He roared. “Mista’ I’m sorry! I’m just tryna’ afford some food for my family. I gots two kids and a husband with a broken arm!” With tears streaming down her face, she turned and ran into an alley.
As she was running, Trump pulled out his trusty 8 gauge semi-automatic shotgun. “I’m gonna blast that bitch back to Blacksville.”
It wasn’t pretty. The children that happened to be walking by would have PTSD for life. It was unfortunate. But that was okay since he was Donald Trump of course.
After he had handed out all of his lollipops (he skipped the Mexicans. Duh. Job stealing bastards. He loved the Mexicans though.) he decided to go to his secret hideout under his hotel.
He walked for a little while, stopped to admire how sexy he was in a puddle he passed. He walked just a bit farther, needing to trace his steps in the small yet dense city.
He happened to be looking down at his early access iPone 10s+ and he walked into the door. “Argh! My head. This is all the damn Mexican’s fault,” he cursed. “makin’ me walk into doors and shit.”
He walked into the lobby of his hotel. It was obviously the most beautiful building in the D.C. area. He sat down in one of the fine leather chairs in the lobby.
“Mr. Trump, you’re back. I love you. I want your fat wet dick.”
“What was that?” He asked. “Nothing, at all, Mr. Trump!” She said with a voice that obviously gave something away.
“Alright then. Lucy, I need you to beam me down to my secret... wait for it.... laboratory!”
“Right away, sir.”
“And get me a fat blunt while you’re at it. Winners only smoke that dankest weed.”
“On it, sir!”
Right then Trump felt a whoosh of air and he was magically transported to his underground lab. Little did the Obama know, it was here that Trump kept his secret warheads for taking down terrorists, wall building materials, (which the Mexicans payed for of course) and his teleporter. It was also where he commanded the U.S. Army that he had control of for some reason. He adjusted his dank weed in his cheek, took a puff and spat the blunt on the ground, smushing the end with his boot. He could afford more from his homie Snoop Doge if he needed it.
He strapped himself into his chair. He knew where he was going. He had his Mexican “buddy” Juan turn on the teleporter.
“Juan, set the teleporter for the land of Equestria. Make sure to send twelve battalions of U.S. Army troopers. Make that twelve battalions and six small elite Navy regiments. I want three commanders and four colonels. And a strawberry milkshake. Make it snappy!”
All Juan did was give him a disgusted look and nod slowly.
‘I’m going to make Equestria almost as great as America,’ He thought to himself as Juan hit a switch.
‘almost.’
Then he blacked out.
Equestria, approximately six years and eight months after Luna’s return
What was he? Who, was he? Why.... why was he? These were the questions Donald Trump asked himself as he floated through the black void of unconsciousness.
He could tell he was in between the void that was life and death itself. Or maybe he wasn’t. Wait! Maybe he was in captivity of the Mexicans… or- or ISIS! Shit.
Oh wait, nevermind. He had slipped into his teleporter, he remembered, which always caused the user to pass out unfortunately. He hoped he wasn’t in Equestria for too long. He had elections in a short few months with that fucker Hillary still in the lead. His thoughts went black once again.
Donald Trump woke up with a jolt, hitting his head on a branch in the process. “Shit!” he cried out, his hair looking like corn.
“Well, it looks like I’ve arrived at my destination. Time to get shit done.”
Trump stood up. It looked like he was on the edge of a forest. Most likely the outskirts of the Everfree Forest. He really, really liked MLP. He watched it all the time. On occasion he would even go in his closet and clop to Rainbow Dash’s big, juicy, fat ass. It was hot in his opinion. Way better than sex with his ugly whore of a wife. Anyways, back to the point here. He knew he had a big wound on his forehead from getting smacked by so many inanimate objects.
Probably put up to it by the Mexicans or the Muslims. Of course, he loved the Mexicans and the Muslims… and the Chinese, and everybody!
He started to walk in the direction he thought Ponyville would be in. About half through the dense forest he encountered a manticore of all things! It roared at him menacingly, but he wouldn’t back down! He had to convince this horrid beast to join the Republicans, before the damn Democrats got to him!
“Excuse me, Mr. Manticore.”
“Mmmmmmm, yes?” The beast spoke with a thick British accent. Trump gaped in awe. “You can talk?” the obviously soon to be president said, astonished.
“Of course I can. What do you take my kind for? Uncivilized brutes?”
“Kind of yeah.” Trump responded to the stupid question. “Anyways, let’s get down to Republican business.”
A chair appeared on the ground along with a small podium.
"Sit." Trump instructed.
After showing the manticore the ways of the Republicans, and showing him the evil that were Obama and Clinton, he had a pretty dedicated follower.
The manticore gave him a promise of friendship. It was a beautiful dragon claw. It shined in the moonlight like silver under a smith’s fire. There was a strange hole in the end. “This is a token of my gratitude. Whistle through this hole in the end if you ever need backup in an intense political deba-” BOOM
The manticore didn’t have time to finish his sentence. There was now a smoking, bloody mess where its head used to be.
“Liberal piece of shit.” Trump said to himself, blowing the smoke off of the barrel of his 8 gauge.
No true Republican would ever need help in a debate. No matter how intense.
Our hero walked for about two hours longer and finally arrived on the outside of the small town filled with the pastel colored horses he loved so much. The sun was just peaking over the horizon. He wandered through the town and many of the ponies stared at him. He didn’t care though. I mean, come on. He was Donald Trump. He was skipping happily along. “Cause I love to make you smile, smile, smile! Yes I do!”
Damn he loved that song.
Then he saw it. He stopped dead in his tracks. Could it be? The Castle of Friendship?
“Wow, it’s like a dream come true!” He exclaimed!
He knocked on the door.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Then after what seemed to be five hours (it was honestly probably closer to five minutes, Trump is just an impatient guy.) the door finally started to creak open.
Trump peered in. Nobody was there… it was surprising to say the least. Almost a bit ominous. But alas, Republicans like him didn’t get scared! He had to brave this looming, dark entryway and try to find Twilight and the gang. He stepped in. He took his coat off of his black suit with a red tie of course. He was just wearing a white shirt underneath. He realized for the first time he had no pants on.
As he walked through the halls he couldn’t help but notice the elaborate paintings of ponies playing and prancing together under the sun and the moon. Celestia and Luna, both with their hot, fat asses. They were gods to the ponies. They were especially gods to Trump.
“I wonder where everybody is.” Trump thought out loud.
It appeared his search would have to continue.
