Rip And Tear

Cackles of the insane and rambling of the demonic entities echoed throughout the large coliseum, which was crumbling and slowly decaying, but for the sake of the plot, it does not go the extra mile and collapses atop its occupants; of which, were hundreds of demons in comfortable, cushioned seats surrounding the circular, stone room which housed three particular individuals which were important and were currently being broadcasted across the entirety of Equestria, Earth, Tartarus, and as well as the author’s personal computer.

“Alright, let's watch this stupid shit.” Clairvoyant, dressed in a shitty pair of jeans and a white shirt, sat down on his broken down recliner and clutched the bowl of popcorn to his chest as he adjusted his body, attempting to position his ass in a way that the protruding spring didn't penetrate his asshole. After fiddling and moving around for many minutes, ultimately spilling his last bowl of popcorn, as well as the last of his food overall, he cursed to himself and clicked on the broadcast.

Princess Celestia, as well as her younger sister and co-ruler Princess Luna, cuddled up next to each other and smiled briefly at the neat and cutesy commercials before the opening of the broadcast ruined their calm demeanor and shattered any hopes or dreams of living a life of innocence and benevolence. Their eyes flickered to the two gigantic words on the screen that instilled fear into any weak-minded individual.

“On this week of Hell’s Kitchen, we have two special guests known as the Doom Slayer, or more commonly known as Doomguy,” Shrieks of fear and anger emanated from the demons and the aforementioned guest raised the middle finger at them before he adjusted his apron and ridiculously tall chef hat, walking to his spot by the host. “As well as Lilith, everyone's favorite succubus, as well as Clairvoyant’s favorite pony to jerk off to!”

“It’s fucking Celestia, you moronic cunts!” Clairvoyant screamed at the television, his body in motion way too long, causing the spring to rip through his dusty jeans and tear straight into his asshole.

“And don't forget our host, Gordon Ramsey!” The announcer shouted, shrieks of terror and awe erupting from ponies, demons, and humans alike, all of them having a myriad of thoughts concerning the handsome fellow; some wanted to fuck him, some wanted to kill him, but who really gives a shit what you fucking idiots think?! I’ll have you know I graduated the top-

“GET TO WORK, YOU FUCKING DONKEYS!” The master chef shouted at the top of his lungs, forcing the two contestants to clamber to their separate kitchens to start cooking for the audience of demons, ponies, and humans, all of them either laughing loudly at the scene or scolding the blonde beast of love in silent hate; takl shit bout mah husbando, i dare u

Doomguy went to work slicing a tender piece of Beef Wellington, carefully slashing it and chucked it into the frying pan, sparing fleeting looks at the master chef who was currently flirting with a cacodemon who was wearing eye-liner, fishnet stockings on its non-existent legs, as well as black lipstick and a Linkin Park T-shirt. Ignoring the ugly creature, he quickly placed the cooked meat on the ready-to-go counter.

“IT’S FUCKING RAW, YOU FACELESS MULE!” Gordon ripped apart the undercooked Beef Wellington and presented it to the sweating Doom Slayer, who was bubbling sorry excuses inside of his head to the chef. “DO YOU KNOW THE FUCKING DIFFERENCE BETWEEN RAW AND COOKED! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE, FUCKING USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!” Nodding his head profusely, Doomguy hurried back to his station and started once again on another Beef Wellington, paying extra attention to it.

After many hours of screaming and hovering by Gordon directed at Doomguy, the marine grunted in annoyance as he laid a hand on his chainsaw. “IT’S! FUCKING! RAW!” The soldier revved up his chainsaw and sliced the man in half, bits of Gordon Ramsey’s many body parts and bodily fluids exploding onto him. Wiping his helmet’s forehead to rid of any sweat, he sighed in relief.

But… What if Gordon was not kill?

Suddenly, Gordon Ramsey appeared in front of Doomguy, with some attachments and extra protrusions. Six-hundred and sixty-six horns laid on top of Demon Ramsey’s head, as well as growing six pairs of bat wings and sixty-six rows of vampire teeth. Doomguy gulped as the upgraded and improved Gordon Ramsey towered over him.

“YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE FUCKING DONKEY, DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT AS LONG AS THERE IS RAW FOOD AND DONKEYS IN THIS UNIVERSE, I WILL LIVE FOREVER?!”

“NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY KITCHEN!”

* * *

Sitting in his chair, Clairvoyant sighed and flexed his fingers as he finished the newest chapter of a story he still considers his magnus opus, and he lit up a cigarette as he checked FimFiction for the fifteenth time that day.

On the screen, in the notifications tab, laid dozens of notifications, all of them detailing favorites, likes, and comments.

“What the fuck? People still remember me?”