Your Mildly Interesting Adventures In Equestria

“You fat, revolting monster!”

Slowly, you turn your head to the source of the sudden disturbance, only to see Spike with his junk clenched firmly between his claw. With no other sensible option in sight, you quickly grab Rarity’s bloody horn and hurl it at him with all your strength. The projectile lands about a yard in front of him, doing nothing but leaving the dragon visibly horrified and confused. With your ultimate attack seemingly ineffective, you have no other choice but to eliminate the witness with your own fat, meaty hands.

With your trusty brick in tow, you begin the difficult five foot trudge to the doorway. The journey proves to be immensely difficult for your cellulite infested legs, but you press on; gasping for air due to physical exertion. Spike is frozen in place, an expression of absolute horror and amusement on his face. Even with your colossal shadow inching closer and closer, Spike breaks into a fit of laughter at the pitiful display happening before him. Flustered by his odd display of fear, you pick up your pace to that of a dying slug. Nearly within striking distance, you use the remainder of what little strength you have to lift the brick high above your head. Unfortunately for both you and Spike, you slip on Rarity’s bloodied horn and lurch forward. Spike’s laughing fit comes to an abrupt end, and is instead replaced by a blood curdling scream of pure terror at the sight of your falling colossal form.

Your body impacts the ground with the force of a meteorite, shaking the very foundation of Ponyville itself. You now rest in a small crater of your own making, muffled screams can be heard below your many thick layers of fat. To physically exhausted to stand up, you roll over and examine the bloody mess below. Spike’s body lied beneath, broken and battered yet very much alive. Several of his ribs now protruded from the thin layer of scales on his chest; creating a large cavity the size of a baseball.

The mere sight of the cavity reawoke the hidden dark, morbid side of you; locked away by hundreds of hours of therapy and anger management. With a sudden burst of energy, you jump to your feet and scavenge around the boutique for the materials necessary for the completion of your creation. After several minutes of scavenging, a modest pile of string, zippers, and needles now lay before you. With a wide toothed smile, you set off to create your masterpiece.

Picking a needle and some string from the pile, you quickly jab a needle through the relatively thin flesh of his eyelid and proceed to sew it to the flesh just above his eye socket. Though Spike’s screams and helpless pleas for help was music to your ears, your full concentration was required for the delicate procedure. Grasping one of the protruding ribs with both hands, you yank with all your strength; breaking the rib clean off and further enlarging the cavity. Fortunately for Spike, the immense pain knocked him out cold. With relative peace, you easily sew the remaining eyelid with the masterful touch of an artisan.

With the hardest part out of the way, you quickly move on to the large cavity on his chest. With your bare hands, you rip and tear away at the dangling flesh surrounding the cavity in preparation for the next procedure. The immense pain of the process must have snapped Spike back to his senses as he now stared at you with an expression of pure horror. With his eyes sewn open and too fatigued to even scream, Spike had no choice but to helplessly watch with panic stricken eyes as his own body was mutilated before him. Smiling at the now conscious Spike, you then proceeded to sew the two flaps of flesh together with a zipper; creating a nifty storage compartment out of his abdominal cavity.

All that now remained was the finishing touches. Using your full strength, you then proceeded to stomp on both his arms and legs; further fragmenting his already broken bones. With little difficulty, you bend and warp his arms and legs into loops behind his back and proceed to sew them together into conventional carrying straps. Taking a step back, you marvel at your handiwork and shed a tear due to its sheer magnificence. You affectionately name your new mobile storage compartment ‘Backpack’.

With Spike the Backpack in tow, you head into the kitchen to pack a healthy snack. After several minutes of searching, you finally find a jar of Nutella and an apple, which you promptly stick several needles into. With pure delight, you stuff your trusty brick and new found food items into Spike the Backpack; cackling madly as he squirmed and screamed in pain.

Still lacking any form of clothing below the torso, you continue to further loot Rarity’s house in an attempt to find something matching your high fashion standard. Digging through Rarity’s pile of discarded projects, you find an elegant pair of grey sweat pants. The sweat pants fits comfortably around your bulging form, completing your formal attire consisting of a hot pink tank top and a pair of puke green crocs.

No longer possessing a reason to stay, you happily skip out the front door with a screaming Spike the Backpack in tow. Heading through the very center of Ponyville itself, whole streets are deserted at the very sight of your neckbeard, bloodied, cheeto encrusted form. Except for the occasional screams of agony from Spike the Backpack and cries of terror from the occasional passerby, you make your way out of Ponyville in relative peace.

Several minutes go by as you aimlessly wander the various roads surrounding Ponyville. Before you know it, you find yourself at the edge of the Everfree Forest. A single lighted cottage dots the otherwise desolate forest edge. Muttering curses at Hasbro for once again changing the geography, you make your way to the cottage in hopes of acquiring directions back to Ponyville.

You gently rap at the door several times; minutes pass, but still no response. Enraged that whoever inside was ignoring you, you prepare to execute the only logical course of action for such a situation. You sling Spike the Backpack off your shoulders and lift him above your head with both arms. With all your strength, you hurl the small green and purple dragon/backpack at the door. The forty pound projectile easily shatters the simple wooden door; terrifying the yellow pegasus mare and her pet bunny inside.

“Run. . .” Spike the Backpack weakly mumbled, shortly losing consciousness after delivering said message.

“Ding dong!” you bark as you enter the cottage through its now ruined door frame. Glancing around the modest abode, you immediately notice that you just broke into the very home of Fluttershy herself. Feeling no remorse for your righteous actions, you nonchalantly attempt to engage in conversation with cutest pony. “Why hello there Fluttershy. I’m awfully sorry for breaking down your door, but Spike over here just wanted to fly so badly. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t help a friend accomplish their dreams?” You casually walk across the room to Spike the Backpack’s now limp body and jam your entire arm into his chest cavity. Rummaging around his innards for several moments, you finally withdraw your arm with a bloodied jar of Nutella in tow. “If it’s any consolation for breaking down your door, would you like to have some Nutella?” you suggest, offering her the bloodied jar.

With a quiet shriek, Fluttershy quickly declines your offer with a simple nod of her head. “Um. . . thank you for the offer, but no thanks. And if you don’t mind that is, could you please leave?”

“Of course not! I haven’t even been welcomed in yet. Don’t you think it’s a little too soon to be showing out your guest?”

“I’m terribly sorry for doing this, but you forced my hoof.” With little hesitation, Fluttershy gives you her famous soul breaking stare. The glare has no effect. Thankfully for you, you have a severe lack of the aforementioned object; rendering you completely impervious to her otherwise soul crushing stare. With a hearty laugh, you poke fun at her fruitless attempt at trying to stop you.

“Haha, that was a nice try, but that won’t be working on me,” you manage to spit out, still laughing before you sudden switch to a much more serious tone. “While this conversation was interesting, I now grow bored of it. Normally, at this point I would be fornicating with your cold, stiff body, but-”

“Excuse me for interrupting, but I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t do any of that.”

Ignoring her polite request, you finish what you had to say, unfazed. “I’m still awfully tired from ravaging your friend Rarity. So instead of shagging you in the eye, I’m going to pleasure myself with your bunny.”

An expression of pure shock and confusion now lay frozen on both the faces of Fluttershy and Angel bunny. Rendered speechless by the sheer absurdity of the comment, Fluttershy mumbled but a single word: why.

Enraged by Fluttershy questioning the inner workings of your great mind, you hurl the bloodied jar of Nutella at Angel; severely injuring and stunning the small bunny. “Do not stifle my creativity!” you bellow as you dash to the bloodied lump of flesh and grasp it with both hands.

With tear filled eyes, Fluttershy grasped at your cellulite infested legs and gave you a look that could melt the coldest of hearts. “Please. Please don’t hurt him,” she begged. Unfortunately for her, the plea fell on deaf ears. Still grasping the defenseless bunny in both hands, you slowly wiggle out of your sweatpants; albeit with great difficulty. With your miniscule johnson now exposed, a wide toothed smile along with a promiscuous look creeps onto your face. With a swift kick to the muzzle, Fluttershy loosens her grip on your leg; leaving you free to do whatever you wished to the helpless animal now in your grasp.

With a single fluid motion, you jam the poor defenseless animal onto your level three dickspenser; resulting in yelps of pain from the bloodied bunny. Taking a deep breath, you bark but a simple seven words. “Bunny fuck! Bunny fuck! It’sss aww-right!” you say as you repeatedly jam the now dead animal onto your throbbing manhood. The feeling of Angel’s tight rectum is pleasurable beyond words; nearly causing you to blow your skeet prematurely.

“Stop that this instant you . . . you . . . pervert! Just because you’re bigger than me doesn’t mean you can pick on my friends!” Fluttershy bellowed, her shroud of cowardice ripped away revealing the brave pegasus beneath.

You momentarily halt your session of bunny fucking to address the brave mare in front of you. “Oh yes it does my sweet Fluttershy. The strong take from the weak; always have, always will.” Slowly you spread your arms out beside you, leaving you open and unguarded. “I’m standing right in front of you. Aren’t you going to stop me?” Fearful of any physical confrontation, Fluttershy cowers in your presence. “I thought so,” you spit out, your voice dripping with venom. With no further resistance, you continue the bunny fornication with a slightly faster pace.

Horrified by your actions, Fluttershy retreats to the safety of the corner; weeping softly at the loss of her pet bunny. Satisfied by your quick fling with the hare, you now have an insatiable lust for sweet pony plot. With Angel’s lifeless corpse still jammed on your dingus, you make your way over to Fluttershy and attempt to console her with your loving words. “There, There.” you say to the grief stricken pegasus cowering in the corner. “If it makes you feel any better, this experience was just wonderful. Being the kind hearted person I am, I shall now share that experience with you.” Before she even has time to respond, you grab her by the mane and jam your fur covered wang into her mouth. “The more the merrier!” you scream at the top of your lungs as you viciously ravage the orifice known as her mouth.

Groaning in pain, Fluttershy struggles to free herself from your grip only to be met by yet another swift blow to the muzzle. Battered and bleeding, any resistance the mare previously had was now wiped away along with any hopes of coming out of this in one piece.

Slowly, you began to feel the pressure build up in your loins. The exquisite mixture of blood, crying, and Nutella further fueling your endeavors. Unable to handle the escalating pressure in your loins, you have no choice but to blow your crusty load inside of her mouth. With the force of a miniature rocket, the resulting skeet launches Angel’s corpse off of your dong. Unfortunately for Fluttershy, the ‘bunny rocket’ lodges itself deep into her throat; blocking off her unneeded, inessential supply of oxygen. Writhing on the ground and slowly choking to death, she has no choice but to beg you for help. “Don’t worry Fluttershy, I’ll save you,” you exclaim with your most heroic voice possible. Fearful of the cute mare kicking the bucket before you got a piece of her sweet pony plot, you have no choice but to employ your mother’s tried and tested method to cure you of choking as a child.

Using all your strength, you deliver several swift kicks to the thankful mare’s head; each following kick resulting in the mare’s gasps for air to grow fainter and fainter. A deathly silence now permeated the room. “No need to thank me,” you utter with a wide toothed smile on your face, totally oblivious to the damage you have just caused. “Just doing my job.” Fluttershy’s now limb body refuses to reply like a stubborn child. Taking the silence as just another way of saying thanks, you prepare to leave with Spike the Backpack in tow. Just as you're about to get up and leave, a single elaborate poster draws your attention. The magnificent poster solicits but a single simple two worded reaction from its observer: holy crap.