Ahhh, Hearts and Hooves Day. Silly poners, having a Valentine’s Day in disguise. The day where two lovers babble about the love they share before they go to fuck in the middle of a park, suffering from intoxication and a sugar coma.
Maybe that was just you. Who knows?
You’re strolling through Ponyville with the sun on your back, and you’re ready to see what saccharine shit this world has to offer in the form of “there will be children in 9 months” day.
As you enter the center plaza of the town square, you see a large group of ponies, a huge mix of all races and both genders, surrounding something in the center of the circle which you could easily see from your angle since you’re as tall as fuck compared to these mini horses.
What you saw was a myriad of mares glaring at one another, separated from the crowd by a chalk outline of the ring. The entire thing looked like a mix of a retarded rodeo and a free-for-all shitshow, but you knew an incredible fucking nothing about pony culture, so you tap the shoulder of the mare next to you. “Hey, you know what the fuck is going on?”
She barely gives you a glance. “A retarded free-for-all.”
Huh, so you were half right.
You got the attention of another pony. “Hey, you know what’s going on?”
The mare turns toward you and gives you a grin similar to when a psycho forgets to take their medicine. “Oh, it’s the annual “Hooves-for-Hearts” contest! Every Hearts and Hooves Day, the participating mares delve into a violent and savage hoof fight for the affection of their stallion, and the winner gets to pick a stallion to herd with!”
What the fuck?
“What the f-”
A loud whistle cuts through the air, and a rumble on par with a giant adding a new mountain of manure on your garden causes you to fall over and eat shit.
You quickly right yourself (nothing happened don’t worry ignore everything that happened in the last five seconds) and look over at the ring to see a clusterfuck that would put the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan to shame.
A dust cloud equal to the size of a giant shit in your garden held firm; comedic thunks and whams reverberating through the square, and a few ponies flying out of the ring and crashing into bystanders in a hilarious bowling pin fashion—man, these ponies really know how to put on a show.
Wait, fuck, are those paramedics?
You feel something light smack into your face before it clatters to the ground. You glance down and oh fuck that’s a tooth.
Your attention returns to the long-winded scuffle just in time to see some green retard get haymakered in the jaw, glass flying out of her mouth. Who the fuck brings glass to a brawl?
Seeing Pinkie off in the distance, you hurry over to her and get her attention. “Yo, Pinks, wh—”
Her eyes light up and she quickly perches on your head. “Just what I needed, Anon, thanks! Now I can see Rainbow eat shit!” Your vision begins to shake as Pinkie vibrates from her unbridled autism.
“Pinkie, can you tell me wh—”
Again, you are interrupted by some shit smacking into your face. Unfortunately, it’s an actual pony this time, and you go tumbling down, betrayed by fat ass as she leaps off your head and you didn’t see the rest because a pony is on your face. Oh hey, it’s Rainbow Dash.
You hit the ground with a thud, quickly clearing your face of shit and checking that you didn’t break anything. Again, you right yourself, but this time you fuck off from the fatuous fiasco, because fuck pony culture and the bullshit they put you through. You head to the castle to ask Twilight about the three w’s: what, why, and winning. Because if there was a town-wide brawl, there wasn’t any way they were going to stop you from bringing the pain train.
All you felt was an immense amount of soreness through your body and the painful throb of bruises developing all over you. You brush your rainbow-colored rainbow hair off your face, simply accepting the infinite pain the demons of your mortal form so kindly gifted to you.
“I wouldn’t have expected shit to be a cannibal, you know?”
Fuck off Pinkie leave me to die in peace.
Purplefaggot wasn’t in her castle shitting herself over not getting massively overworked, as you came to found out. Spike wasn’t there either, which was really weird, as he always had an endless amount of things to do. Twilight could just give him less work so she would have more, but she’s retarded, and probably found it just as funny to see the small dragon suffer as you did.
Back at the ring, you could see that the dust had cleared and that there was only one purple fucktard left in the ring. So, that’s where she was.
Nearly getting trampled by a fuckton of stallions with rock hard dicks carrying the not-so-winners to get more bruises in a different place, you walk up to the Biggest Fuckwit of Them All™. “Hey Twilight, what’s this whole brawl abo-”
The eggplant tackles into you, a Rainbow-eating grin on her face. “I’m so happy to be your alpha mare, Anon!”
Fucking wh- “Absolutely not, Twilight.” You push her off and throw her out of the circle. Ain’t no thots getting into your pants and well-established credit score.
She looks at you with her hideous eyes. “But it’s part of the law, Anon! Winner of the “Hooves for Hearts” contest legally gets to be added to the herd of a stallion of her choice.”
That’s some of the stupidest shit you’ve heard, and that’s extremely impressive considering the mare you’re talking to. You trot over towards Mayor Mare, who was helping clean up the mess of four bodily fluids covering the entire arena. “Mrs. Mayor, Twilight just said the winner of this thing gets to join a herd of her choice. Is this true?”
The older mare looks up at you with a smile. “Of course! You should feel so proud that she’s choosing to herd with you! Most stallions would be arguing with fervor for a mare so beautiful and stronk.”
Shit, it’s getting dangerously close to a recreation of Saving Private Ryan. If only you actually had a pistol, there’s two valid targets.
Author's Note
Proofread by An Intricate Disguise. Thanks babe.
Also, listened to this while making this:
