(the first story) how I saved my brother's girlfriend Fluttershy from his unrepentent abusive ways

by Raw Cringe

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Equestria Girls, Crossover, Human
Length: 985

My brother is a meathead. This is the tale of how I saved Fluttershy from his meathead

My brother is such a meathead. This is the tale of how I saved Fluttershy from his meathead

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-06-10 23:37:15 UTC

first story first chapter

The tale is more or less excruciatingly heartrending and there is a twist like in Madoka so strap yourself into your seatbelt for this one.

*blows dust off of the story tome and cracks it open to where the red bookmark is at*

Hi. What's your name?

That's a lovely name. Very nice to meet you.

I think we can be friends. Let me tell you a little about myself.

I am a peaceful guy. I don't like fights. One time I fought in kindergarten but that was in self defense. It was afternoon recess, I was against the chainlink fence, the bright sun was burning hotly overhead.

Some meathead kid named "Soarin" picked on me because I did not want to join him and the other boys in chasing the girls around the playground. Girls such as Pinkie Pie and Hatsune Miku, who were innocently playing together in the sand pit. Innocent and unsuspecting that their castles were in danger of being toppled through the exertion of chasing which could at any moment erupt forth in a sorry hedonist display of will to power.

I did not want to chase those girls first of all because chasing girls was against the rules. I don't believe in breaking rules, because I try to always be an upright and moral person. So I tried reasoning with "Soarin", but his thick uncultured skull was impervious to my logical attacks.

So like a true meathead he started pushing and punching at me.

It was scary, I guess. I mean I wasn't really phazed. I had seen it coming a mile away. "Soarin"'s boorish phrenology gave him away as the type of violent youth I knew was going to be nothing but trouble. Besides which, the empirical evidence of boorish behavior he had given, in the form of chasing girls, was conclusive enough to warrant suspicion. Suspicion of his character. Suspicion of his motives. And espeically... suspicion of his personality.

Anyway, I'm not one of these whiners. Ever since I was born I have tended to not whine even when it's called for. I can take a lot of abuse. And I have, believe me.

But this was a bridge too far. "Soarin" had crossed a line. I will not be forced to participate in illicit girl chasing. I am very sensitive to the needs of the fairer sex. Maybe the thing they need least out of all is a bunch of rough sweaty boys chasing them in a brutish fashion. Girls such as, and including, Pinkie Pie, and Hatsune Miku. It is called a play-ground because it is for playing, not for chasing.

If it were, it would be called a chase-ground.

Anyway.

As the rainstorm of punches crashed in onto me under the hot sun, nearly lacerating my skin multiple times, I felt something inside of me catch on fire. What I felt I did not understand at the time, but in hindsight now that I am aged and knowledgeable I can see that an unstoppable rage of justice began to burn and build up inside me. It started in my stomach, then moved into my chest and heart. From there it spread through my bloodstream to my arms and legs.

I know what you are going to ask: yes, even my fingers and toes. Even the little toe.

As I felt it begin to reach my brain, I knew that it would soon take over, and I could not be responsible for what happened next. So I gave "Soarin" one last chance to rethink his folly before I knew I would lose control. Despite my injuries from the punches, I boldly faced him head on and told him to stop.

But, of course, he didn't. Child that he was, he could never change his mind once he had decided on something. (I was a child too but I was intellectually advanced for my age, probably about second grade level if I had to guess. I could spell B-U-T-T-E-R-F-L-Y and C-O-M-P-U-T-E-R.)

So the punches kept coming. And my rage kept building...

Until it snapped.

But then a meaningful, almost spiritual, almost Zen Buddhist thing happened. The "snap" did not have the effect you would think it would. Instead of flailing my arms out like a meathead; instead of lowering myself to the level of this overzeaolous child; I saw clearly for the first time that fighting this "Soarin" was not even worth my time.

I realized that if I fought back, I would become just as bad as he was.

As a result of this realization, which shone from within my bosom like a light in the darkness, I made a decision: no matter how many punches I had to take, no matter how intense the flurry of fists became, I resolved to withstand it all with a staid endurance, never striking back.

Because that is what separates humans from beasts, such as horses or ponies. And it is what separates me from average meatheads like "Soarin" and my brother. I realized that I am on an entirely different level than people like that, and that they will never be able to understand any higher principles that direct more enlightened people, who run the world and make more money than meatheads and end up in happy married relationships in the end.

Luckily I did not have to endure the punches much longer. One of the teachers saw us and pulled "Soarin" off me. He got his parents called on him by the principal, and I got to stick my tongue out at him while he was crying.

That delicate age was when I learned the eternal principle, that niceness always wins over fighting.

*closes tome for now, carefully replacing the red bookmark where it belongs*

Well, now you know a little bit more about me. I hope we can be friends now.