Machinegum 1

For most of Pony existance, it has been an unspeakable horror to ingest non-fish based meat products. Not because of any biological mechanics, mind you, they can digest meat just fine. Rather, they simply feel far too squeemish to really go through with sinking their flat, grinder-based teeth into the neck of a small woodland creature, and then pushing their teeth together until a combination of pressure and bodily disintegrity causes the aformentioned neck to rapidly collapse with a pop as warm, salty blood flows into their mouths, and bits of miniaturized woodland spine are ground into a fine powder by their powerful molars.

Why this same sympathy does not extend to fish is a mystery to most, and indeed, has puzzled Pony anthropologists for many years. Of course, they often tried to find some sort of philosophical answer about "ethics," or the "sanctity of life," and such, but, much to their self-rightous dismay, the answer is, in fact, much simpler than that:

Fish can't cry.

Of course, none of this applies to Spike the dragon, who, due to a hefty amount of pony racism, is seen as a partial savage because of his more reptillian demeanor, and thus certain social standards and such do not apply to him. Nevermind that he is often of a more mature constitution than his friends, he's a dragon, and as we all know, dragons are just dumb, treasure-obssessed hot-heads with no sense of self control or self-awareness.

Spike, is, of course, eating non-fish-based meat products like the total savage he is, despite our preconceived notiens of his people, because much like some people of a more child-oriented-entertainment, periphery demographic mindset, he doesn't care what you think about what he likes. It just tastes good, and in the world of the dragonese culinary arts, it is the taste of the food that takes the utmost precedence. It is also pertinent to point out that the Dragon Lands have the highest obesity rates in the world, but that is neither here, nor there.

No, what is here, and soon to be there, is Spike. Long famed for being the hero of the Crystal Empire, Princess Twilight Sparkle's numero uno assistant, and the five-time reigning champion of the International Pin Endurance Consortium's Advanced Competitionary, Spike feels no need to observe the typical pony custom of meat abstinince, and no pony feels the need to correct the eating habits of the reigning IPECAC champion. After all, would you mess with a dragon who ate chicken and waffles for breakfast?

Of course, that isn't what Spike is concerned with right now. He is, as he is every morning, concerned with eating chicken and waffles, right in front of his mossisaster, Twilight Sparkle of the Sparkle family line, who watches in thinly veiled discomfort as her little bronssistant eats the flesh of an innocent animal whom was previously cut up into wet, bloody pieces, rubbed with flour, breadcrumbs, and the remains of it's unborn children, and then dropped into boiling oil until the bread and skin had solidified into a psuedo-shell, at which point the pieces of breaded, fetus-fried chicken was served on a plate with a side of waffles and some boisen berry syrup.

Twilight is, naturally, dying inside as she watches Spike's display of total savagery, but she is powerless to stop him due to his biological needs dictating that he needs to eat non-fish-based products in order to not contract an unhealthy case of death and to, indeed, keep being alive. So, while Twilight may not like Spike's eating habits, much like her former foalsitter's promiscuous behaviour with the entire Crystal Gaurd, stopping it would be an exercise in futility so great that it would make the Chainese Wall meant to repell the Gryphonstonian hoards look like a foal desperately screaming at their "Where's Wall Dough?" book.

Thus, Spike remains oblivious to the discomfort of Twilight as his teeth tear through the flesh and bones of a small, presumably avian, bird. There are no negative consequences, as his body breaks down the bird's remains into energy to be used through out the day to organize, shelve, and browse hundreds and hundreds of books, bingies, and bobbles accumulated up to this point through numerous uneventful adventures. After all, it is his job as assistant that drives him in life, and he must be in relatively above average shape in order to perform that job which gives his life purpose to the absolute best of his potential abilities.

So he eats, with no particular worries or anxieties about the day ahead, and no reason to acquire said worries or anxieties. He is healthy and well adjusted, and his life is simple, easy, and makes sense to him as an even exchange of his organizational skills and companionship for food, shelter, and unconditional love from his unmother-notsister, which he appeciates immensely. He has few fears, and in the moment where he finishes his breakfast, he even looks to the day with great optimism as his eyes shine brightly, and he mentally prepares himself for another beautiful day of indentured servitude to a mare whom he loves as a mother, sister, and boss, and whom loves him, he infers, in a similar manner, and holds no bones about his current position in life

Spike stretches his legs, ready to begin his day as an assistant to one of the most powerful ponies in Equestria, and he gets out of the crystalline chair which he had been sitting on whilst he consumed the flesh of avian creatures, doused in their own ovaries, and prepared in boiling oils. He was energized, well rested, and readied to wash his plate, and he continues to be all three of those things as he washes his plate, and soon washes Twilight's plate, who found that her appetite had slowly returned after that morning's grizzly demonstration of the deeply-seaded, uncivilized nature of Spike's dragon identity.

Of course, Spike didn't know about how Twilight, or really any other pony, felt about dragons, and thus, him, and so he never noticed any sort of discomfort. Indeed, as far as he was concerned, life was good.

His life was fair, and made sense.