AW HECK AW HECK AW HECK AW HECK
THE BEST STORY IN THE FLIPPIN' UNIVERSE
Spike was having a gosh dang funtastic day, he got to do chores, which all indentured slaves love to do. He got to do the cooking, the cleaning, the cleaning again when Ponyville was completely destroyed in the second act, and he even got to do the dry cleaning, which is cleaning but a thousand times better. Now that he'd finished his exciting daily list of chores, chores, and chores, Spike was free to enjoy the best part of his day: jacking off his tiny dragon cock to hardcore child pornography.
Yes, Spike the baby dragon was a notorious pedophile whom the town held great disdain towards. This wasn't technically his fault, but lets all be honest with ourselves, pedophilia is absolutely reprehensible, and the only people who defend it are probably pedophiles themselves. That isn't to say that all pedophiles are child molesters, but Spike most definitely is. He was a complete monster, who'd use any combination of wit, charm, and brute force in order to get a taste of sweet, underage pony vag. He's a lecherous creep, and if you feel sorry for him for what happens later then you're a total idiot.
Spike had already molested forty young foals, forty, that's as many as four tens, and that's terrible. Of course, as with any good child molester, Spike was also a bit of an entrepreneur, and rather than let the literal terabyte of underage rape he'd accumulated gather dust in the back of his hard drive, Spike had decided to make some money from it on Tor. As it turned out, his was a brand of CP so exotic and enticing, that he'd basically become the pedophile equivalent of a kingpin, which, now that I think about it, is literally just a crime lord who has sex with kids. Fat, ugly stallions and mares(I don't want to be offensive so let's pretend that women can be pedos too) with small penises(whoops) would pay any amount of Bitcoin(also known as bits) for a ten second clip of a baby dragon fornicating a baby pony.
Spike had already selected his prized video, after all, he had done a good job today, he deserved a reward, even one that was illegal, immoral, and probably blasphemous. It was a video of him and Pound Cake doubly penetrating Pumpkin Cake, and it was his holy grail of depravity. It had scat, pee, vomit, incest, babycon, small penis humiliation, and interspecies. He'd made the Bitcoin equivalent of millions off of the video, and had aborted billions of potential children to the video.
"It's time to abort a few more," thought Spike to himself as he gripped his puny penis and jacked it off like his penis was his penis and his hand was a hand. Spike knew that it wasn't really an abortion, but he also knew that it was way sexier to imagine he was murdering young babies like every sick, teenage whore who does it and tries to pretend it's okay.
The thought of a woman older than six repulsed Spike, but that only benefited him, as it made him last longer. Unfortunately for Spike however, he kicked his legs as he jacked off, and accidentally kicked his computer, this set off a cleverly devised Reube Goldberg machine which ended with sending a single tiny speck of dust directly into his nostril. This, obviously, caused Spike to sneeze, showering his desktop in a ball of magical fire, and transporting it to Princess Celestia.
Spike froze, the only motion on his entire body being the throbs of his rapidly deflating erection as it receded back into his scales. He sat for about a minute, not sure just what to do, until he came to the conclusion that the only logical course of action was to panic, and so he did exactly that, running around screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran through whatever was in his path. This lead him up the stairs, and directly through a closed window, which shattered, surrounding him in shards of once molten sand. Spike plummeted from the ten story crystal castle but thankfully had his fall broken(much like his arms and legs upon impact) by a passing cart full of a soft, pungent substance. Unfortunately for Spike, that substance was manure.
"Manure! I hate manure," cried Spike through a mouthful of feces. This wasn't completely true, Spike enjoyed manure in certain situations, the most of which was releasing it onto the chest of a foal, but in a nonsexual setting it was literally just a pile of poo poo. Spike tried to call out for help, but found that his anguished screams were muffled by the mass of excrement. He was completely trapped under a literal crap ton, and all he had to breathe was a cocktail of oxygen and poop particles.
Spike spent the entire day being carted around Ponyville in a poop wagon, lying in agony as his broken limbs twisted and cracked under the pressure of the dung pile, crying as the feces seeped into the deep cuts on his underbelly caused by the shards of glass. He stayed there for hours before he finally lost consciousness.
Spike awoke in a hospital, coated in casts and bandages. He felt incredibly sick, and his vision was highly blurry to the point where, at best, he could read a short letter. Twilight was worriedly peering over his depressing form, her eyes lighting up a bit when she saw he wasn't in a coma.
"Spike, I don't know what you were thinking," cried Twilight as she hugged the injured pedophile, "I know you're into some kinky stuff, but a ten story fall into a pile of crud is no way to achieve orgasm."
"I promise it'll never happen again," replied Spike.
"Oh, by the way, you got a letter from Princess Celestia."
Twilight levitated the letter to spike and opened it for him, holding it in his line of sight since he couldn't, what with the broken arms and all. Spike focused his eyes warily, a feeling of dread lumped up in his throat. With a load of fear in his eyes, Spike read the letter.
Dear Spike,
Thanks for the freebie pal.
-Celestia