Author's Note
This is a real thing in eastern Canada
Insert Straw Here
For the most part, Equestria isn’t so bad. The ponies are nice. The weather is always temperate. There’s an occasional apocalyptic event that could ruin life as you know it every three weeks or so, but you really get used to it after the first few times. All in all, Equestria is a bit of a paradise when compared to Earth.
Except for one, crucial thing.
And today is the day that you need to deal with it.
“Anon,” Twilight calls out to you. “We need to get milk.”
“No,” you say. “I objectively refuse.”
“Anon. I’ve humored you for almost a year now. I want milk. We’re going to get milk.”
“TWILIGHT. YOU CANNOT MAKE ME ALLOW MILK IN THIS HOUSE.”
“You and I both know you aren’t lactose intolerant.”
“That’s not the point.”
You turn around and begin to stomp out of the kitchen. Stupid Twilight. You have been so tolerant. You stopped hiding Spike’s porn. You stopped hiding Spike’s comics. You stopped hiding Spike’s gems. You stopped tying up and hiding Spike. You’ve given Twilight SO MUCH of what brings you joy in this pathetic little world. The least she could do is remove all milk from her life while you live in her castle completely rent free.
“That’s it,” Twilight growls.
And with a blinding flash of light, you fall to the ground to a cheap, yellowing white tile floor.
“DID YOU JUST TELEPORT ME AGAINST MY WILL?” You yell at Twilight.
“Sue me. You can’t get a lawyer.”
“You don’t know that!”
Twilight stares at you.
“Come on, Anon. I’ll let you pick out the milk.”
“NO!” you scream. “I refuse!”
“Anon, you’re acting like a filly.”
“A FILLY WITH COMMON SENSE! I refuse to assist your sick, twisted corporations.”
“Milky Way has the best local milk in town, and just because she began to franchise doesn’t make her a corporation.”
“THAT’S HOW IT STARTS!” you scream.
Twilight grabs you by the ear with a purple magical aura and drags you over to a large display of refrigerated goods.
“NO! TWILIGHT! STOP! I’ll DO ANYTHING!”
“No, Anon. You aren’t getting out of this.”
“I’ll give you a hoof rub!”
Twilight stops and thinks for a minute.
“Well- Wait. NO! ANON. I WANT CEREAL. We’re ending this now.”
And then, you’re there. In the belly of the beast. Before you, shelf after shelf, row after row is bag after bag of different kinds of milk. Yes. Bags.
Your soul escapes your body. Yes, the other ponies said it was real. You didn’t want to believe them. It’s not like the jackalope, where that one time when you were a kid you and your uncle went into the forest and found one and that’s why your dad left the family. This was something that you had to come to terms with. Bagged milk was real. And it was right here, right in front of you.
“Okay, Anon,” Twilight says flatly. “If you stay good. I’ll get you some chocolate milk.”
“I don’t want milk,” you pout. “Not if it’s in a bag.”
“Well, milk only comes in mind. Because honestly? This ‘plastic’ stuff you talk about sounds really unsafe.”
“It’s better than bags.”
“Oh, okay. So let’s put it in paper cartons instead. You know. Because paper doesn’t get moist or anything.”
“It’s STILL better than FUCKING BAGS.”
“Anon. You’re making a scene.”
You look around, and sure enough, every single pony in the store is glaring at you like you’ve shit your pants and spilled a pallet of baby food on yourself. Trust me, I’ve been there.
“You know what, Twilight. Fine,” you say. “But trust me. You’ll regret this.”
It’s the morning of the next fucking day in Equestria. Your plan is complete. All that’s left is to wait. In front of you is a small bag of chocolate milk. The “insert straw here” circle mocks you. It’s like a fucking Caprisun of milk. But the hole is in the middle of the fucking bag. You push the straw into the hole.
And it goes out the other fucking side.
“Fuck.”
“Good morning, Anon!” Twilight says, as chipper as ever. “Ready for breakfast?”
“Yeah, cereal, right? We’re gonna be some cereal killers, huh?”
Twilight shakes her head and gets out a plastic fucking pitcher. Your eyes twitch.
“Wait, so you don’t drink the milk from the bag?”
“What?” Twilight asks. “No! We’re not uncivilized.”
You look down at the bag of milk and quickly throw it into Spike’s bowl.
“We take the bag,” she continues. “And put it in the pitcher.”
“Okay fair, then it pours better,” you say. “Okay. That makes sense. Then the bag is more transportation, and you can just wash the pitcher.”
“What? No! We put the bag IN the pitcher.”
You glare at her.
“You know what? Just do it.”
“Fine,” Twilight says. “I will. Then you’ll see it’s not that weird.”
Twilight opens the fridge and freezes.
“Anon, we didn’t get two bags of milk.”
“I wanna play a game, Twilight.”
Twilight turns to you.
“For one who so wants to share their milky white fluid into my throat, I figure I must do you the same courtesy. In one bag, is the milky… uh. Milk. That you want. The other, is my personally made man-milk. The choice is yours, Twilight Sparkle.”
“Anon, that’s gross.”
“YOUR BAGS ARE GROSS.”
“Well, then there’s only one thing to do,” Twilight says calmly.
She takes one of the bags, puts it in the pitcher, cuts the corner, and pours a glass.
“SPIKE!” she calls.
Spike waddles into the room and looks between you and Twilight.
“What?”
“Drink this and tell me if it went bad,” Twilight says, handing him the glass.
Spike shrugs and fucking downs it like a champ. He smacks his lips a bit.
“I dunno, Twilight. It’s a bit salty. I’d pitch it.”
He whistles a happy tune, taking his bowl of chocolate shame milk and walks out of the room.
“Dude, Twilight. That was cold.”
“Hey,” she continues, “It was him or me.”
“You could have tried… I dunno. Making an omelette with it.”
“That’s gross, Anon. Why would you say that?”
She pitches the bag of cum. And takes the bag of proper milk out of the fridge.
“I’m going to tell him.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I’m definitely going to tell him.”
“... Please?” she asks softly.
“Nah. You’re fucked.”
“What can I do to make you not tell him?”
A wide smile grows on your lips as Twilight puts the bag of milk into the pitcher.
“Please don’t make it something that’s going to horribly embarrass me, Anon. I still have to be a Princess, you know.”
“Oh trust me, Twilight,” Anon says, glaring at the purple alicorn. “I am going to milk this for all it’s worth.”
