Fallout Equestria: Stable 7

And so on the 100th year did Big Cheese touch the Primordial Star with her horn, thus giving herself an orgasm, and ejaculating the Soup of Life into the Universe. In the great Cosmic Dispersal of Being, the Star grew into the Sun, and Big Cheese became the Brood Mother to all ponies. But only mares were born from her magnificent bosom, because stallions were icky and always told them to be back home before curfew. But the Traitor Moon tainted the gift of Life with her Toolbox of Chaos, and birthed the stallion race out of her unclean--

“Damn it,” Big Cheese exclaims as she pulls her pencil from the paper, “I ran out of room.” She sets the pencil down and levitates the parchment to her eyes, reading over what she wrote down. “Well, at least I got this part of the story down. Now I just gotta transfer it to the computer.” She looks to the terminal in her office,powered on and standing by on the command screen. She pushes the paper into the screen, making squeaking noises as it is being rubbed. “Come on,” she insists, putting more force into her telekinesis.

Suddenly, the door slides open and Fresh Linen runs in, panic etched into his face. “Cheese,” he starts, flustered, “we have an emergency!”

Big Cheese looks at him, face stretching into a look of terror. “Sweet Celestia, it's happening, isn't it?” In a swift motion, she brings up her pip-buck and activates the broadcaster. “Attention, everypony, get a gun from the armory and get into my office, ASAP! This is not a drill. Repeat: This is not a drill.”

Quickly opening a drawer behind her desk, she levitates out a pistol and throws it to Fresh Linen, whose horn clumsily lights with magic as he grabs it in his telekinetic grip. “Don't worry,” she continues on, levitating a sub machine gun from the same drawer, “I got a spare.”

Fresh Linen is about open his mouth to question her, but the rest of the Stable ponies--wearing loaded battle saddles--run into the room, interrupting his train of thought.

“We got the call and came as fast as we could, Boss,” Janitor explains. “What's the emergency?”

“Ponies, those no easy way to say this,” Big Cheese begins, her expression grim, “there's a traitor amongst us.”

All of the group gasps, except for Linen who attempts to diffuse the drama. “Actually, there's no...”

He is interrupted by Wooden, a look of realization forming on her face. “I fucking knew it.”

Cheese looks at her, surprised. “Wait, you agree with me on something?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, yeah. I had my suspicions since we came inside here, but I guess it's true now.” Wooden scans the room of ponies with narrowed eyes. “One of us is a zebra spy.”

Cheese's eyes go from wide to half-lidded as she lets out a groan. “Don't be ridiculous, there is no zebra spy.”

“Yes,” Linen agrees, relieved for the moment of common sense, “in fact, the real problem is--”

“Mole-ponies.”

Everypony looks to Pie Hole upon hearing her outburst.

“Mole-ponies,” Wooden repeats with an air of disbelief.

“Isn't it obvious,” she continues, adopting the inflection of a storyteller, “the Mole-Ponies have been living underground for three-thousand years, and now they're slowly rising up from their dark, rocky homes to feed on ponies, and play jump rope with their guts.” Lost in her narration, she makes hissing noises at the others.

“Pie Hole,” Cheese begins with an annoyed sigh, “that doesn't make any sense. The Mole-ponies were banished to the dreaded Planet Z after Andromeda tricked them into accepting the teleportation talisman, which was hidden inside the Star Rock of Destiny.” She looks at her, eyes furrowed. “I should know. I read the issue.”

“Except in the third volume they came back, when they hijacked a Planet Z warship and returned to Equus, where they then kidnapped ponies and brainwashed them into believing their cause. Then they released them back into ponykind as sleeper agents,” Pie Hole retorts with a glare.

“Bullshit, I never heard of that being an issue.”

“That's because it was a limited edition comic given only to the monthly subscribers; the true fans of the great Space Captain,” Pie says matter-of-factly.

“Fuck your monthly subscription,” Cheese shot back, “I don't need to pay money to be a true Space Cadet!”

“Stop yelling at me!”

“You started it!”

“Would you two please calm yourselves,” Linen interposes in an attempt to stop the argument, a hint of anger in his voice. “There is no traitor, or mole-ponies, or any other ridiculous things of that nature.”

“Okay, fine,” Cheese says, “you tell us what's really happening, genius.”

Linen lets out a sigh, relieved to finally have the floor. “Thank you, now the real emergency is--”

“Hold it,” Cheese interrupts, scanning the room. “Where's Loop Tie?”

The PA system's speakers buzz to life. “Present in the monitor room.”

“Loop Tie,” Cheese speaks into the broadcaster accusingly, “what are you doing in there? There's an emergency.”

“Well… I didn't feel like leaving.”

“Why not?”

Loop Tie is silent for a moment. “I mean… you know, I can see things fine from here, and there's a locked door keeping others out. I just feel much more comfortable in here. Plus I can watch all of you without you accusing me of staring.”

“Damn it, Loop Tie,” Cheese yells.

“I can't help it, I don't like being around others. I feel like they're going to, I don't know, eat me or something.”

Cheese rolls her eyes, an annoyed grunt escaping her mouth. “Well, do you at least have a weapon in there?”

“I have a noose.”

Cheese’s eyes narrow. “Why do you have a noose?”

“In case I need it. You know. For noose things.”

Cheese simply stares at the broadcaster, hoping her confused expression could be conveyed through the communication. “I'm… not going to pursue this line of questioning any further. Just be sure to listen.”

“I'm always listening, ma'am.”

“I know you are,” Cheese says, speaking away from the broadcaster. “Okay,” she continues, looking back to the four in the room, “what were we talking about?”

“If there are no more interruptions,” Linen continues, eying everypony in the room, “we were talking about why I--”

“Hang on,” Janitor speaks up, “if one of us is a traitor, why did you order us to get guns?”

“Oh, that's simple,” Cheese begins, “it's all part of my plan to oust him out of hiding.”

“How's that?”

“Well, the real traitor would want to get the best gun so he can kill us better, right? So I labeled a gun loaded with blanks as the 'Super Special Mega Death Gun.' That way, he'd reveal himself without realizing it.” Her face softens into a bright and proud smile.

“Um, hate to break this to you ma'am, but we didn't see any guns labeled that,” Janitor clarifies.

“How the hell is that possible,” she asks with a fury, “I wrote the label myself and stuck it on a gun found in my draw--” Cheese trails off as she levitates the sub machine gun to her face. Written on a label taped to the weapon is Super Mega Death Gun. “-Er. Well… shit. Now we'll never know who actually betrayed us.”

“NOPONY BETRAYED US!”

All eyes fall on Linen whose outburst caught the ponies' attention, a frazzled and crazed look etched into his blood-cracked eyes.

“If all of you insufferable morons can shut up for five minutes and let me explain myself, I can finally tell you that my medical certificate has gone missing.” He shoots a loathing glare to everypony in the room, continuing to scream at the top of his lungs. “That's what the emergency is, that's why I came in here, so I can get Cheese to get Loop Tie to get the damn footage to my office so I can find out where it went! If I don't have that, then I can't very well treat any of you because I wouldn't have any right to do so!”

Linen wheezes heavily, getting fresh air into his lungs after his explosive outburst.

“Well geez,” Cheese starts, “if that was the problem all you had to do was say it. No need to yell like you're the only pony with problems.”

“Yeah, Fresh,” Pie Hole speaks up, “didn't you hear there's mole-ponies invading us?”

Linen brings his hooves to his face, pushing them deep into his eye sockets in the vain hope that the pressure would somehow alleviate the migraine he has grown.

“Wait a minute,” Wooden begins, “what do you need a certificate for? Your medical license is what gives you permission to practice, right?”

“I don’t have one,” Linen says with a straight face.

Wooden raises a brow. “You don’t have one?”

“No, because I'm not an actual doctor.”

Wooden’s confused expression deepens. “But… you are a doctor.”

“Yes, certified by the Stable after I took the GOAT. We all took it when we got sealed in here, remember?”

“Oh, oh,” Pie Hole blurts out in excitement, “I remember! I made a Hearth's-Warming tree out of all the dots that was on the paper!”

“Oh yeah,” Cheese remarks, her voice changing into a mocking tone, “'the Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test'.” Her voice returns to normal, her tone being replaced with annoyance. “I hated taking that. Felt like I was in school and Dad was telling me not to punch the filly that stared at me weird at lunch. Why did we take that?”

“Why did it choose you to be Overmare,” Wooden questions insultingly.

“Don’t start with me, peon,” Cheese snaps, levitating up her gun, “or I’ll fill you full of blanks!”

“Just,” Linen shouts, eyes clenched shut in irritation, “don’t yell at each other, please.”

“Oh quit your whining, Linen,” Cheese accuses. “If missing your ‘whittle certifwicate’ is such a big deal, then get a copy from the mainframe.”

Linen shoots a puzzled look at Cheese. “A copy from the mainframe?”

“Yeah,” Wooden states matter-of-factly, “that’s kind of the place we go when we lose our certificates.”

“Or if they get burned,” Pie adds, enthusiastically.

“Or if we get them wet when cleaning,” Janitor elaborates.

“Not exactly a hard thing to do,” Cheese explains with a critical eye.

Linen stands there, eyes wide and mouth agape, not a peep coming from him. Within a few seconds his face twists into a maddening smile as he lets out a hysterical laugh. He brings his head back, pressing his hooves into it before swinging it back down and banging the but of his gun against it. His masochistic tendencies continue until he takes one big breath and heaves it back out, frantically panting.

With a bloodied head, he readjusts his cracked glasses and takes calming breaths. “Well then,” he begins, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to go treat my head injury.” He stumbles his way past the ponies and out of the office.

“Well now that that’s out of the way,” Wooden begins, “we need to get back to finding that traitor.”

Cheese looks away with a frown and a shrug. “Eh, I mean… I don’t really feel like trying to find the traitor anymore. It’s kind of starting to get stale.

Wooden’s narrowed eyes dig into cheese. “I,” she begins before her expression softens, “don’t really want to traitor-hunt anymore either. The whole thing’s getting old.”

“So what do we do now,” Pie Hole inquires to everypony.

There is an awkward silence as some ponies kick their hooves at the ground, nopony really knowing what they should do next.

Suddenly, the a chunk from the metal-plated floor between them is torn apart by long, sharp buck-teeth. Emerging from the newly formed hole is a grotesque creature that resembles the form of a pony, with leathery pink skin and a revolting stench. From its muzzle protrudes twitching whiskers and its eyes are permanently shut with a rough crust forming at the edges. It emits a sharp hissing noise, head swiveling violently at the at the ponies in the room, mouth gnawing at the air.

Soon, its hissing stops, now replaced with a short coughing fit before the beast bumps its chest with a bony claw hoof. “Ah, sorry. I had something stuck in my throat,” it says in a gravely yet high pitched voice. “Greetings, Land-Dwellers. I am Chitirrrit, ambassador for the Kingdom of the Mole-Ponies. We've heard of the destruction that has ravaged your land, and we wish to bring you sanctuary in our underground home. There's plenty room and resources for everypony, so there's no need to throw a fuss over--”

“LIVE TARGET,” Cheese yells out, rocketing out of her chair and pointing a hoof at the creature, drawing her super mega death gun at the thing.

Within seconds, everypony unloaded their guns into it, the bullets tearing through its flesh and ripping it apart. Its skin rips open, its blood spraying onto the ground. Its neck explodes, chunks flesh flying onto the overmare's desk. Its head blows open, sending out bits of bone shards and brain every which way. One of its once-shut eyes now dangles by the stem, hanging on to the no-longer-whole brain that is clearly visible in the opening of its skull.

The lead ceases flying, the clicking sound from the guns being the only indicator that the chaos had stopped. The creature, now malformed and mangled, slumps onto the floor with a splat before sliding back down the hole, a trail of blood and meat-chunks following.

The room is silent for a few seconds, the ponies meditating on what they have just done.

“Well,” Cheese begins, placing her gun back down on the desk and sitting back on her seat, “I'm bored. What do you guys wanna do?”

“Eh,” Wooden begins, shrugging her shoulders, “I gotta get back to fixing stuff.”

“I'm gonna read some comics,” Pie Hole happily adds, bouncing in place.

“I'm going to get back to staring at all of you,” Loop Tie announces in a barely audible whisper.

“I'm a janitor,” Janitor states.

The three ponies leave the office, giving Cheese some solitude.

“Well,” Cheese begins, levitating the parchment back up, “I'm gonna finish transferring this.” She shoves the paper back into the terminal's monitor, rubbing hard into the glass. After a few seconds, she becomes bored once again. “Fuck it, I'm going to the diner.” She gets up and leaves, but not before placing the parchment right-side up on the desk.

Stable-Tec congratulates you,

Fresh Linen

For taking the GOAT and achieving the career of

Doctor

Serve the Stable well, resident!

Update: Critical Hit on Mole-Pony's head.

Update: Mole-Pony’s HP reduced to 0.

Update: Mole-Pony's head crippled.