Anon breaks his hand on Luna's face.
Like, so wrong that it's unbelievable.
Author's Note
I regret everything and nothing about this story.
Like, so wrong that it's unbelievable.
Anon wound up to throw another punch, his (semi?)-nonexistent eyes narrowing as he focused on his target: a paper printout of Luna taped onto a punching bag.
Throwing the punch, he followed through on the momentum to spin around, sending another punch flying at a picture of Celestia... also taped on a punching bag.
"Ha!" he whooped, feeling his knuckles puncture the paper, "Now I'm ready to exact my revenge!"
Now, you may be wondering, as the reader, just what Mr. Anonymous here is exacting revenge on the Princesses for. Could it be that he is the last in the bloodline of a ruling family long-ago toppled by the sisters? Is it because they are the ones responsible for tearing him from his own world and plunking him in the middle of Equestria? Perhaps... maybe the real reason why could be that our green-hued friend here has discovered some deep, dark secret about the two alicorns, long-since buried under the guise of rumors and myths, and is now preparing to uncover it for all to see.
...
...
Nah, the guy's just ticked because Celestia said that he is no longer allowed to be within a mile radius of Princess Cadance. Or really any other mares, for that matter.
Not that they specifically excluded themselves from that restraining order or anything, but who knows?
Anyhow, enough with this sudden infodump setting up our protagonist's backstory. Onwards!
Celestia yawned, taking another sip from her teacup as she watched half-mindedly over her sister.
"Celly, c'mon, we can spare a few bits from the Equestrian treasury. Let me buy just this one lootbox! I promise that I won't buy another, even if this one sucks!"
Celestia yawned again, shaking her head as Luna wilted in her seat, letting the gamepad hang by its cable.
"Please?"
"No."
"...What if I do anyways?"
Celestia glared at her sister.
"Do you want to watch lunar eclipses from the moon again for the next thousand years?"
That certainly shut up the younger sibling.
A dull thumping sound began to echo from the halls, accompanied by a high-pitched screech of some sort of metallic object dragging along the floor.
"Sister," Luna piped up again, "Would you mind telling whoever is making that ruckus to shut the buck up?"
Celestia didn't have time to respond, as Anon kicked the doors open, a ten-foot-long metal pole in his hand as he stomped up to Luna.
The two locked eyes for a moment. In that brief, minuscule period of time, it seemed as if all of reality beyond the human and mare had melted away. Slowly, Luna leaned in, her breaths slowing as she closed her eyes...
...and screamed full-force in the Royal Canterlot Voice, aka Caps-lock for PrincessesTM.
"WHAT BRINGS THINE TO OUR FORBIDDEN PLAYGROUND?!" Luna shouted, blasting away whatever remained of Anon's hearing, "WE ARE CURRENTLY FOCUSED ON PWNING NOOBS."
"Okay, geez," Anon grumbled, "You didn't have to yell. That's just one more reason for why I've come here today."
Luna cocked her head, giving Anon the absolute perfect angle for his next move. There was no way that this could fail, either. He'd been practicing for months for this very event; hours upon hours of daylight were burned every day practicing his technique. More was spent on perfecting his aim and calculating the exact velocity to swing his hand at for maximum surprise.
Yet, he failed to factor in one soon-to-be-fatal possibility.
Princesses are built like tanks. Or Nokia bricks. Ah, heck, they're probably tanks constructed from Nokia brickphones.
"ACK! MY HAND!" Anon wailed, flailing his rapidly swelling hand that was likely now broken in at least seven different places, "WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE LIKE THIS, LUNA?!"
The Princess of the Night blinked, frowning at the strange green human screaming in pain before her.
"OUCH. HECKIN' FRICK DOES THAT HURT." Anon continued, ignoring the fact that Celestia herself was currently towering over him in disapproval.
"YISSSSS..." Anon heaved, slamming his limp hand against Celestia's barrel, "JUST WHAT I NEED FOR MY DYING HAND... SOFT, warm... Oh. Oh no."
"Anon?"
With the speed of a stick dipped in molasses while stuck in a tar pit, Anon turned to face the disgruntled Princess of the Sun.
"Y-yes?"
"Please explain why you just attempted to punch my sister in the face."
"I... was testing the durability of my fist?"
Celestia's face softened. "Well," she began slowly, "If you truly are simply testing the durability of your fist, then you've already far-surpassed that of any creature that has ever attempted to punch my sister in the face."
Anon let out an awkward chuckle.
"I-I did?" he replied, "I... wow, and all that happened was that my hand got turned to mush."
Celestia nodded.
"Yes, and every other creature that had tried to do exactly what you just did simply disintegrated upon contact."
Wincing, Anon attempted to give a thumbs-up with his pulped lump of a hand.
"One the other hoof," Celestia suddenly continued, her voice sinking into a growl as she lit her horn, "I have my doubts about your honesty, Anon. If you intended to harm my sister, then I will personally see your banishment to the moon."
She turned away just in time for Anon to notice the golden glow of Celestia's aura enveloping his hand. A sickening crackle of bones snapping back in place emanated from his hand as Celestia set it back into a not-mush position.
"That is for if you were simply testing your strength, knowing that you wouldn't be able to harm my sister in any way."
His hand lit up again, undoing everything and returning it to a dead weight of pure pain.
"ACK!" Anon hollered, "WHAT WAS THAT FOR, THEN?!"
"To make sure you don't do it again."
It was at this moment when Anon made the second greatest mistake of his life, the first being to try taking Trixie out on a date and agreeing to be her assistant in a 'magic show'.
Mindlessly, he wound up his remaining good hand and took a swing at Celestia.
Boy, was he in for a whooping after that fiasco.