Table Legsby TheMajorTechieChaptersMy, how the tables have turned...Displaced into Dat PlacePonyville except it's not PonyvilleButter goes well with baked potatosacksWell, the roleplay has been dead for months now so let's get back to the usual insanity!The story undeadening part deux!So anyway the roleplay is dead and so is this story kthxbaiMy, how the tables have turned...Author's Note I'm not sure what I should regret in writing this. My, how the tables have turned... Hey. Hey Buttery Smooth. Guess what? "Ack," Butter Knife spat, "I'm in another story again, aren't I?" DING DING DING! CORRECT! The ultrafine, maximum-edge shankmuffin of an alicorn facehoofed in response. "So, what sorta torture are you gonna run me through this time? I don't see any of the... acquaintences that you forced me to be with from last time, but I just know that you've got something up your sleeve." Yes, in fact. Got your nose! "Hey!" Fine. Here's your nose back. Anyway, let's see here... how will this thing begin... ah, I know! "Please don't tell me you're gonna--" Let's wrap you up in masking tape, dunk you into a spacious FedEx-branded flatrate box, wrap that up with some duct tape, toss in a few heads of lettuce, a couple Molotov cocktails, put it all into a giant replica of a VHS tape, put that inside a big ol' bucket of slime, and send you hurtling down into a post-apocalyptic Equestria! "What." Toodles! "WAITYOUDIDN'TEVENTELLMEWHATYOUHADUPYOURSLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE!" Oh, that? It's a table leg, your new weapon of choice! "Why?" "Because I'm the author, and you, as my character, must do as I narrate!" A giant bucket of slime containing many nested layers of other things (and a very pissed-off alicorn) landed in the middle of nowhere. From within, a muffled scream of frustration. "GET ME OUT OF THIS PLACE. I DEMAND YOU PEASANTS TO RELEASE ME!" "Say," Pinkie chirped, staring at the bucket, "Didn't this happen once before already?" A wave of murmurs rolled over the small crowd before they dispersed, leaving I Can't Believe It's Not Margarine to her own devices. ... ... And by own devices, I'm talking about table legs. You have no right to carry your trusty namesake weapon anymore. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" So then, what are ya gonna do with your new power of table legromancy? "If I weren't limited by this mortal plane of reality, I would've stuck one of these table legs down your throat." Woah there, Bacon Grease, let's not get violent here, alright? Your soul may be as black as the night, but you yourself are nothing more than the living equivalent of a stuffed animal... so fluffy... "I-it's not like I'm fluffy by choice... baka!" Eh? Didn't know you were... um... nevermind 'bout that. Anyway, have you spent enough time in time-out now? "WAITTHISWASTIMEOUTOHWHENIGETHOLDOFYOUI'MGONNA--" Butter Knife's horn spontaneously flared up, shooting a solid beam of table legsers out of her prison. Yes. Legsers. Like, a beam of light with an uncanny resemblance to table legs. This was her escape. ... *Cough* ANYWAYS... "Ugh, what is it this ti--" Before Pan Oil could finish her question, a faraway, echoing howl filled the air. "What the buck are you doing?!" she yelled up at the sky-god known as the Author, "Let me live my own life!" Haha, no. You'll be fighting against a near-unstoppable force of flying wolves that have broken free of their home universe! It has been said that the facehoof of the century happened right then and there. Displaced into Dat PlaceButter Knife screamed, shooting table-legsers at the impending doom cloud of flying wolves. At some point in time between now and back then, with then being last chapter and now being this chapter, she had picked up a puke-filled bucket and the number 4. Wait... hold on, the puke in the bucket is on Corn Topping. Nevermind. Nearly forgot that you took a shower with that bucket there! "Wait what?!" Yeah, you don't remember? Back between the last chapter and this chapter, with that being then and now being here, you said you were gonna take a shower, and then dumped the entire bucket of your own throwup over your head! MMmmmm... gravely. "WHAT?!" Oh, you didn't remember that either? You grabbed a... what would you call a handful in pony terms? Hoof-full? Horn-aura-full? Eh, whatever. Either way, you choked down a pile of dirt, a table leg, a rubber duck, and the physical incarnation of the number four. Though... you kinda coughed up the table leg before you threw up the rest. "What kind of nightmarish reality have you forced me to endure?" Oh, don't worry about it. Your alicorn anatomy should ensure that you're invulnerable against nearly everything... I think. "You think." ...Yeah. HEYLOOKOVERTHEREIT'STWILIGHTSPORKLE! "Sporkle?" Yeah, Princess of Sporks! "Sporks?" SPORKS, SPORKS, THE ONE ULTIMATE UTENSIL! YES, SPORKS! "I miss my knife." Aw, stop being such a downer. Just because you're a self-described edgy mare doesn't mean that you should always have knives on hoof! "Fooey." Have you realized yet that you are now completely enveloped by the cloud of wolves? "HECCCCCCCCCCCCC?!" Um... okay then. I'll get back to narrating ya. Butter Knife lit her horn as the air around her began to sizzle. The cloud of wolves roiled in her presence as a gigantic, dark tower began to rise from the ground beneath her. "FOOLS." Shanky Shank cackled, standing atop her giant table leg, "YOU THINK THAT YOUR MERE BITES CAN HARM ME?!" A flying wolf bit onto her foreleg. "...ow." Budder Clyde whimpered, toppling from the table leg as the entire swarm began to pursue her. Oh, by the way, Butter Knife, you're technically displaced into this world. This ain't your normal Equestria. Also, you're like, in the middle of nowhere right now. Might wanna find your way back to civilization, y'know. "WHY DID YOU EVEN NARRATE ME OUT INTO THIS PLACE ANYWAY?!" Because I wanted to see you panic. "I hate you." Love you too, Butter Knife! "Grrrr." Hey, do you want me to bring in Pinkie? 'Cause if I have to, I'm gonna bring in Pinkie Pie, turn you into a little fluffy puppy, and have Pinkie pet you. "OHPLEASENOANYTHINGBUTTHATIDONOTWANTTOHAVETOGOTHROUGHGETTINGTURNEDINTOADOGAGAINAND--" Then you'd be fine with Ego Boost joining you? "NOT HER EITHER." Aw, spoilsport. Fine. Butter Knife, in all her panicking glory, manages to find herself running straight back into the middle of Ponyville, wolf on her foreleg and still covered in her own puke. Happy now? "Better." You won't ever be happy, will you? "That is my choice. My lifestyle. The inner rage that boils within me powers my every move. My soul, which, of course, is as dark as the darkest of Luna's nights, is as expansive as the great void beyond this mortal coil, and mark my words, when my time comes, I will dominate." Nice monologue there. You could probably put the thing on a cassette tape and drop a mixtape on the masses using nothing but remixes of that thing. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--" Knife Butter raged, "--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" You say that, but do you believe it? "You aren't even making sense anymore!" Not making sense? Oh, you sweet, sweet summer child... Ponyville except it's not PonyvilleNow then, Buttery-smooth, we're in Ponyville. Except we're not in Ponyville. But we are in Ponyville, in a way. Just not the Ponyville you think you know. "What." Also, I've forgotten nearly everything about this story after not even touching it for like three or four months. "What." x2 Wow, that's a new combo! But either way, let's focus on the topic at hand... er, hoof. Anyways, Butter Knife stumbled into not-Ponyville, smelly and covered in her own vomit. "Wait, since when did that happ--" Shhhhh... this world is based around some things that happened in a D&D session. Just play along for the readers. "Ugh. Fine." Flying Toaster walked past a couple of shops. There was a bar too, but there was a hotel inside the bar, and a bar inside the hotel, and a hotel inside the bar, and a small shrine to table legs inside the bar. The next building was an armory. They only have shoes in stock at the moment, though. "Kill. Eat. Consume." Oh, are you hungry? "Y̵̷̢̖͖͍̻̞͎͉͚͕̻̙̹͖̻̬̰͓̬͐͗͌̅ͯ̐͠e̵̡̯̲̖̗͇̪̠͇̝͎̮̪͇̭̠̽ͫ̑͌ͪ̈́̓͛̄̃͋̈̀ͫ̚̚͘͟͢ͅs̨͓̭͔͕̤̮̬̱̞̤͓͕̮͖͛̉͛ͪ͒̚͝.̷͉̰͍̙͓̬̫̘̳̘̜̖̞̮̣͖̤̙ͣ̌̉̌̽͠" "I believe not-Sugarcube Corner should be open at the moment." "Flesh," Murder Hobo smacked her lips, "I desire flesh to sate my appetite." Peaches! "Hu--" Peaches began to rain down from above for absolutely no reason. Even Discord had no idea where they came from. Peach upon peach battered down on Cling Clang's thick skull, some even spearing on her edgyness, too. Either way, there's the flesh you want. Peach flesh! "Grr." Don't make me bring out the magical narration transformations, young lady!" "One of these days, I'll call OCPS on you." And they'll laugh along with me while I send you adventuring into a dungeon requiring you to fling wolves into specific areas of a maze in a very-real game of minesweeper in order to get to the other side. "What." What? Oh, I mean, zap! Butter Knife's eyes shrunk to pinpricks. Did she turn into a puny dog again? Would she once more be assaulted by a torrential flood of tiny children? Nope. All the narrator did was say zap, after all. Shaking her head, Cranky Shanky trudged off towards the armory. "What do you have?" she grumbled, heaving a bag of bits out of nowhere onto the counter, "GImme your best armor." "I'm sorry, but all we have are shoes." Told ya. Butter Knife ignored the narrator (unfortunately) and pressed onward, narrowing her eyes. "What shoes do you have?" "We've got steel-toed shoes, high heels, a wedding gown, some galoshes, and leather dress shoes," The shopkeeper leaned closer to Squinty Glare. "Don't tell the cows where that last one came from." "Forget about the buckin' cows," I'm-running-out-of-funny-things-to-use-as-your-nickname spat, "Why do you have a wedding gown in stock? I thought you only had shoes!" "It was a misdelivery. We wanted some something that could help take down even the fiercest of beasts, but instead we were delivered a beautiful gown perfect for any occasion!" "Hey narrator guy, what's the stats on all this armor if this is gonna play out like a D&D session?" First of all, this is only D&D-inspired. Things are only loosely set in stone. Second,I'm just gonna say right away that you'll want the gown. "WHY?!" ~~Because Cadance is emitting a threatening aura right behind me as I am forced to potentially create some kind of romantic subplot for the sake of shipping~~ TOASTER STRUDELS! "That doesn't even make sense!" None of this is supposed to make sense, sweetie. Also, shopkeep dude there is about to call up Twilight Sporkle to haul you away to the funny clowntown dungeon. "What." I'd say just leave the bits and scram with the dress. You're gonna be sacked in a moment's time. "Well finally you give me some good advi--" Thousand-degree Knife's words were cut off as she was sacked in a moment's time. Butter goes well with baked potatosacksSo, Slinky, how are you gonna get out of this potatosack that you've been sacked with? "Slinky? That's not even related to my name!" Yeah. I ran out of ideas. "Here's a fun idea, mister narrator dude, how about you use my real name instead then?" Eh, sounds boring. Anyway, Chalkboard Nails, are you gonna figure out a way to get out, or do I have to narrate in another deus ex machina for ya? Also, forget about following the D&D session stuff. We're goin on our own route instead, with just a few things here and there taken from it. "Like..." Like this giant rusty mech that you're about to pass right over while you're still sacked! "Wait what?" Yeah, awesome, right? It's one of the last things we brought up before the online session died out! Not Margarine lit her horn, summoning a table leg. Her namesake butter knife was gone for some mysteriously odd reason, so she was forced to use table legs instead because that is the title of this story. Surprisingly, even to the narrator himself, Butter Knife was actually fine with it. She finally had her name be used once in this chapter and got another pointy sharp object, and the author got to write something inane and stupid again. It's a win-win situation! "Ahem." So anyway, Pointy Stick poked her way out of the potatosack, smelling quite a bit like baked potatoes. She also at some point in the process jabbed the pony that sacked her in the leg, so they were now somewhere over there in a bush wailing to their mommy. Did I mention that the bush is full of thorns, and is on top of the target location for an ultimate siege device? Yeah, that guy's gone... for now. So Cracked Mirror crawled out of the sack that sacked her in the sackening event of oh-sack, and decided to sack the other dude right back. Guess who's currently in priority mail headed straight to not-Ponyville hospital? Oh and also, you're wearing such a beautiful gown right now! You'll surely be the talk of the town! "Heck you." Aww, heck you too. What have we been doing this whole chapter? The only thing that's happened so far is you getting yourself out of a bag! We can't be that slow paced, can we? "Indeed we can, dear narraor. I myself have been quite enjoying the relative tranqu--" WRONG! Let's take this baby and kick the pacing up a notch! "WAIT WHAT NO--" OUT OF NOWHERE A LARGE BOULDER COMES HURTLING DOWN AT BUTTER KNIFE BUT BUTTER KNIFE WAS ABLE TO YEET IT BACK INTO OUTER SPACE WHERE ALL THE BAD SPACE ROCKS BELONG BECAUSE SHE SUDDENLY BECAME SUPRHERO AND SUPERHERO BUTTER KNIFE SAID NO NO NO NO MORE EXTINCTION EVENT LIEK DA DINOSAURS TODAY AND SO SHE YEETED THE BIG OL' HUNKA ROCK BACK INTO SPACE BUT THEN IT PINBALLED ACROSS A BUNCHA OTHER BIG OL' HUNKS OF SPACE ROCKS AND CAUSED A CHAIN REACTION THAT WOULD LEAD TO A BANANA SPLIT LANDING ON HER FACE. "Excuse me, what?" Butter Knife muttered, wiping banana split from her face. "Also, you're using my real name again. That's goo--" Only because I decided to use it while speed-narrating, sweetie. "Don't you dare call me that again. I am the darkness that all ponies fear, the red shadow that is cast in the smoldering fires of destruction, the--" Okay geez, I guet it, you're edgy. Can a guy just enjoy the end of MLP in peace? "Wait what?" You've been saying that a lot this chapter. "What?!" Yeah, your home universe? Or at least, the one it was based on. It's over. Anyway, let's take a look at how those sky wolves are doing! "Noooo!" Yeeeeees! Well, the roleplay has been dead for months now so let's get back to the usual insanity!Hey Slicey Dicey. Hey, hey, wake up Chonksplitter. "What?" Guess what? I'ma release you from the prison that is the weird fantasy world thing that you've been stuck in for the past several chapters! "It's about time." Instead, you'll be traversing these world, wielding table legs when the need arises! "Wait, what?" You sound a little different today. Cat got your tongue? Are you... "Oh no, oh no no no, don't you dare say it." ...a little hoarse? "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" Anyway, enough dilly-dallying. Let's get down to business, to defeat, the Huns! ...Excuse me for a moment. So. Butter Knife shook her head, frantically backing into a corner. "Oh no, oh no no no, don't you dare shove me into a box again. I know your moves now, author, and you will not control me!" Grindstone User proceeded to pick up a bucket of cotton-candy pink paint, dump it on herself, and then draw a big ol' smiley face over her cutie mark in yellow paint. At the same time, Ego Boost, that darn lovable pony, decided to m a g i c a l l y reappear out of nowhere! Why? To join her bested friend in the whole wide world, of course! How? Who knows? Who cares? She's here, she's queer, and she's ready to SMOTHER ANY WHO DEFY HER UNENDING FLOW OF INFINITE OPTIMISM. "Wait, what? Also, screw you. I give up." "No!" Ego Boost screeched, careening into Convenient Kitchen Utensil To Use In Place Of A Normal Knife, "DON'T GIVE UP, MY LOVE! ~also, the yellow really complements your... pink-ness~ BUT DO NOT FEAR, FOR I SHALL SHARE IN MY OPTIMISM WITH YOU, OR MY NAME IS NOT--" Legends tell that the sound of the nuclear facehoof that just occurred could be heard all the way from Canterlot. Author's Note Oh? This story isn't dead? Whatever shall we do? The story undeadening part deux!Author's Note Look, it's the return of the return of the completely and utterly illogical story with no semblance of an idea of the fourth wall even existing! Now featuring 100% more Flim and Flam! The story undeadening part deux! "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were caught trying to make sense of this story, right? Same as us, and that weird green man over there." Not-so-chonky-stabbington groaned, summoning a table leg and whacking the cart until it broke. Because reasons. Also, to escape the meme. The world warped around her as she was slingshot back into the reality that she was last seen in, complete with the ~~parasite~~ adoring sidekick of hers, Ego Boost! Still no word yet on LawnPo, but that's probably for the better. A low groan pierced through the air, setting the pair on high-alert because of course we need some looming threat to make things interesting. Raising another table leg, Margarine Fork readied herself for whatever it was that was coming. ... ... ...Of which, apparently, was noth--IN LESS THAN A SECOND'S NOTICE THE GROUND SUDDENLY BURST OPEN AS A RESURRECTED EVIL DESERT OASIS GOLDEN SHREK APPEARED OUT OF NOWHERE, CARRYING PRINCESS CELESTIA OVER HIS SHOULDER AS HE VICIOUSLY KIDNAPPED THE SUN PRINCESS IN A VERY VICIOUS MANNER VICIOUSLY. "Holy buck. What did you just say?" Nothing But A Flesh Wound™ grumbled, slowly beginning to bleed from her ears from the Royal Canterlot Caps-Lock narration. A D V E N T U R E ! "Oh, Buttery, those blood streaks complement the paint in your coat sooooo well!" "S-shut up..." I'm gonna make you say 'baka' right here, right now. "No-BAKA!" And now, it's time for an ad break! We're doing those now, aren't we? "Wait-- ad breaks?! Since when was this story ad-supported?!" Ever since Gamer Luna took all our funding for her vidya gaems, of course! Now let's get on with Flim and Flam! HAVE YOU OR A LOVED ONE EVER BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH DEAD INSIDE? IF YOU HAVE, YOU MAY BE QUALIFIED FOR A FREE SAMPLE OF OUR LATEST TREATMENT, THE EASY-PEASY-MAKE-YOU-QUEASY 1500! IT DOESN'T DO WHAT ITS NAME SUGGESTS, AND WE'VE BEEN SUED MANY TIMES OVER ALREADY FOR MISREPRESENTING OUR PRODUCT. BECAUSE OF THIS, OUR LEGAL FEES REQUIRE US TO CHARGE YOU THE LOW, LOW PRICE OF $19.99 PLUS YOUR NEIGHBOR'S FIRSTBORN CHILD! THAT'S RIGHT, ONLY $19.99! ACT NOW AND YOU MAY BE ENTITLED TO A BI-WEEKLY TREATMENT OF PICKING APPLES TO FEED INTO OUR SUPER SPEEDY CIDER SQUEEZY 6000 TO EARN US MORE MOOLAH, AND-- ...OOOoookay, that's enough of an ad break. Geez, that Easy-Peasy-Make-You-Queasy machine thingamabob sure looks like a great deal! Butter Knife (of whom is only being referred to as such because the author ran out of ideas) groaned, dragging her hooves down her face. "Kill me, please." Nope! This is your story, and by the power of plot armor and chronic main character syndrome, you will survive literally anything! Butter Knife screeched, all while evil Shrek cackled as he retreated into his also-evil swamp with Celestia. Looks like you've got your work cut out for yourself, girl! "No way," Butter Knife shook her head, shoving Ego Boost out of the way and earning herself a complement about manicured hooves. "I am not going to save that goody horseshoes Celestia." But you wiiii-illl! "Argh... fine, I will..." Butter Knife proceeded to be turned into a neon-pink pirate pony because reasons. So anyway the roleplay is dead and so is this story kthxbaiSomething has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.
My, how the tables have turned...Author's Note I'm not sure what I should regret in writing this. My, how the tables have turned... Hey. Hey Buttery Smooth. Guess what? "Ack," Butter Knife spat, "I'm in another story again, aren't I?" DING DING DING! CORRECT! The ultrafine, maximum-edge shankmuffin of an alicorn facehoofed in response. "So, what sorta torture are you gonna run me through this time? I don't see any of the... acquaintences that you forced me to be with from last time, but I just know that you've got something up your sleeve." Yes, in fact. Got your nose! "Hey!" Fine. Here's your nose back. Anyway, let's see here... how will this thing begin... ah, I know! "Please don't tell me you're gonna--" Let's wrap you up in masking tape, dunk you into a spacious FedEx-branded flatrate box, wrap that up with some duct tape, toss in a few heads of lettuce, a couple Molotov cocktails, put it all into a giant replica of a VHS tape, put that inside a big ol' bucket of slime, and send you hurtling down into a post-apocalyptic Equestria! "What." Toodles! "WAITYOUDIDN'TEVENTELLMEWHATYOUHADUPYOURSLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE!" Oh, that? It's a table leg, your new weapon of choice! "Why?" "Because I'm the author, and you, as my character, must do as I narrate!" A giant bucket of slime containing many nested layers of other things (and a very pissed-off alicorn) landed in the middle of nowhere. From within, a muffled scream of frustration. "GET ME OUT OF THIS PLACE. I DEMAND YOU PEASANTS TO RELEASE ME!" "Say," Pinkie chirped, staring at the bucket, "Didn't this happen once before already?" A wave of murmurs rolled over the small crowd before they dispersed, leaving I Can't Believe It's Not Margarine to her own devices. ... ... And by own devices, I'm talking about table legs. You have no right to carry your trusty namesake weapon anymore. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" So then, what are ya gonna do with your new power of table legromancy? "If I weren't limited by this mortal plane of reality, I would've stuck one of these table legs down your throat." Woah there, Bacon Grease, let's not get violent here, alright? Your soul may be as black as the night, but you yourself are nothing more than the living equivalent of a stuffed animal... so fluffy... "I-it's not like I'm fluffy by choice... baka!" Eh? Didn't know you were... um... nevermind 'bout that. Anyway, have you spent enough time in time-out now? "WAITTHISWASTIMEOUTOHWHENIGETHOLDOFYOUI'MGONNA--" Butter Knife's horn spontaneously flared up, shooting a solid beam of table legsers out of her prison. Yes. Legsers. Like, a beam of light with an uncanny resemblance to table legs. This was her escape. ... *Cough* ANYWAYS... "Ugh, what is it this ti--" Before Pan Oil could finish her question, a faraway, echoing howl filled the air. "What the buck are you doing?!" she yelled up at the sky-god known as the Author, "Let me live my own life!" Haha, no. You'll be fighting against a near-unstoppable force of flying wolves that have broken free of their home universe! It has been said that the facehoof of the century happened right then and there.
Displaced into Dat PlaceButter Knife screamed, shooting table-legsers at the impending doom cloud of flying wolves. At some point in time between now and back then, with then being last chapter and now being this chapter, she had picked up a puke-filled bucket and the number 4. Wait... hold on, the puke in the bucket is on Corn Topping. Nevermind. Nearly forgot that you took a shower with that bucket there! "Wait what?!" Yeah, you don't remember? Back between the last chapter and this chapter, with that being then and now being here, you said you were gonna take a shower, and then dumped the entire bucket of your own throwup over your head! MMmmmm... gravely. "WHAT?!" Oh, you didn't remember that either? You grabbed a... what would you call a handful in pony terms? Hoof-full? Horn-aura-full? Eh, whatever. Either way, you choked down a pile of dirt, a table leg, a rubber duck, and the physical incarnation of the number four. Though... you kinda coughed up the table leg before you threw up the rest. "What kind of nightmarish reality have you forced me to endure?" Oh, don't worry about it. Your alicorn anatomy should ensure that you're invulnerable against nearly everything... I think. "You think." ...Yeah. HEYLOOKOVERTHEREIT'STWILIGHTSPORKLE! "Sporkle?" Yeah, Princess of Sporks! "Sporks?" SPORKS, SPORKS, THE ONE ULTIMATE UTENSIL! YES, SPORKS! "I miss my knife." Aw, stop being such a downer. Just because you're a self-described edgy mare doesn't mean that you should always have knives on hoof! "Fooey." Have you realized yet that you are now completely enveloped by the cloud of wolves? "HECCCCCCCCCCCCC?!" Um... okay then. I'll get back to narrating ya. Butter Knife lit her horn as the air around her began to sizzle. The cloud of wolves roiled in her presence as a gigantic, dark tower began to rise from the ground beneath her. "FOOLS." Shanky Shank cackled, standing atop her giant table leg, "YOU THINK THAT YOUR MERE BITES CAN HARM ME?!" A flying wolf bit onto her foreleg. "...ow." Budder Clyde whimpered, toppling from the table leg as the entire swarm began to pursue her. Oh, by the way, Butter Knife, you're technically displaced into this world. This ain't your normal Equestria. Also, you're like, in the middle of nowhere right now. Might wanna find your way back to civilization, y'know. "WHY DID YOU EVEN NARRATE ME OUT INTO THIS PLACE ANYWAY?!" Because I wanted to see you panic. "I hate you." Love you too, Butter Knife! "Grrrr." Hey, do you want me to bring in Pinkie? 'Cause if I have to, I'm gonna bring in Pinkie Pie, turn you into a little fluffy puppy, and have Pinkie pet you. "OHPLEASENOANYTHINGBUTTHATIDONOTWANTTOHAVETOGOTHROUGHGETTINGTURNEDINTOADOGAGAINAND--" Then you'd be fine with Ego Boost joining you? "NOT HER EITHER." Aw, spoilsport. Fine. Butter Knife, in all her panicking glory, manages to find herself running straight back into the middle of Ponyville, wolf on her foreleg and still covered in her own puke. Happy now? "Better." You won't ever be happy, will you? "That is my choice. My lifestyle. The inner rage that boils within me powers my every move. My soul, which, of course, is as dark as the darkest of Luna's nights, is as expansive as the great void beyond this mortal coil, and mark my words, when my time comes, I will dominate." Nice monologue there. You could probably put the thing on a cassette tape and drop a mixtape on the masses using nothing but remixes of that thing. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--" Knife Butter raged, "--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" You say that, but do you believe it? "You aren't even making sense anymore!" Not making sense? Oh, you sweet, sweet summer child...
Ponyville except it's not PonyvilleNow then, Buttery-smooth, we're in Ponyville. Except we're not in Ponyville. But we are in Ponyville, in a way. Just not the Ponyville you think you know. "What." Also, I've forgotten nearly everything about this story after not even touching it for like three or four months. "What." x2 Wow, that's a new combo! But either way, let's focus on the topic at hand... er, hoof. Anyways, Butter Knife stumbled into not-Ponyville, smelly and covered in her own vomit. "Wait, since when did that happ--" Shhhhh... this world is based around some things that happened in a D&D session. Just play along for the readers. "Ugh. Fine." Flying Toaster walked past a couple of shops. There was a bar too, but there was a hotel inside the bar, and a bar inside the hotel, and a hotel inside the bar, and a small shrine to table legs inside the bar. The next building was an armory. They only have shoes in stock at the moment, though. "Kill. Eat. Consume." Oh, are you hungry? "Y̵̷̢̖͖͍̻̞͎͉͚͕̻̙̹͖̻̬̰͓̬͐͗͌̅ͯ̐͠e̵̡̯̲̖̗͇̪̠͇̝͎̮̪͇̭̠̽ͫ̑͌ͪ̈́̓͛̄̃͋̈̀ͫ̚̚͘͟͢ͅs̨͓̭͔͕̤̮̬̱̞̤͓͕̮͖͛̉͛ͪ͒̚͝.̷͉̰͍̙͓̬̫̘̳̘̜̖̞̮̣͖̤̙ͣ̌̉̌̽͠" "I believe not-Sugarcube Corner should be open at the moment." "Flesh," Murder Hobo smacked her lips, "I desire flesh to sate my appetite." Peaches! "Hu--" Peaches began to rain down from above for absolutely no reason. Even Discord had no idea where they came from. Peach upon peach battered down on Cling Clang's thick skull, some even spearing on her edgyness, too. Either way, there's the flesh you want. Peach flesh! "Grr." Don't make me bring out the magical narration transformations, young lady!" "One of these days, I'll call OCPS on you." And they'll laugh along with me while I send you adventuring into a dungeon requiring you to fling wolves into specific areas of a maze in a very-real game of minesweeper in order to get to the other side. "What." What? Oh, I mean, zap! Butter Knife's eyes shrunk to pinpricks. Did she turn into a puny dog again? Would she once more be assaulted by a torrential flood of tiny children? Nope. All the narrator did was say zap, after all. Shaking her head, Cranky Shanky trudged off towards the armory. "What do you have?" she grumbled, heaving a bag of bits out of nowhere onto the counter, "GImme your best armor." "I'm sorry, but all we have are shoes." Told ya. Butter Knife ignored the narrator (unfortunately) and pressed onward, narrowing her eyes. "What shoes do you have?" "We've got steel-toed shoes, high heels, a wedding gown, some galoshes, and leather dress shoes," The shopkeeper leaned closer to Squinty Glare. "Don't tell the cows where that last one came from." "Forget about the buckin' cows," I'm-running-out-of-funny-things-to-use-as-your-nickname spat, "Why do you have a wedding gown in stock? I thought you only had shoes!" "It was a misdelivery. We wanted some something that could help take down even the fiercest of beasts, but instead we were delivered a beautiful gown perfect for any occasion!" "Hey narrator guy, what's the stats on all this armor if this is gonna play out like a D&D session?" First of all, this is only D&D-inspired. Things are only loosely set in stone. Second,I'm just gonna say right away that you'll want the gown. "WHY?!" ~~Because Cadance is emitting a threatening aura right behind me as I am forced to potentially create some kind of romantic subplot for the sake of shipping~~ TOASTER STRUDELS! "That doesn't even make sense!" None of this is supposed to make sense, sweetie. Also, shopkeep dude there is about to call up Twilight Sporkle to haul you away to the funny clowntown dungeon. "What." I'd say just leave the bits and scram with the dress. You're gonna be sacked in a moment's time. "Well finally you give me some good advi--" Thousand-degree Knife's words were cut off as she was sacked in a moment's time.
Butter goes well with baked potatosacksSo, Slinky, how are you gonna get out of this potatosack that you've been sacked with? "Slinky? That's not even related to my name!" Yeah. I ran out of ideas. "Here's a fun idea, mister narrator dude, how about you use my real name instead then?" Eh, sounds boring. Anyway, Chalkboard Nails, are you gonna figure out a way to get out, or do I have to narrate in another deus ex machina for ya? Also, forget about following the D&D session stuff. We're goin on our own route instead, with just a few things here and there taken from it. "Like..." Like this giant rusty mech that you're about to pass right over while you're still sacked! "Wait what?" Yeah, awesome, right? It's one of the last things we brought up before the online session died out! Not Margarine lit her horn, summoning a table leg. Her namesake butter knife was gone for some mysteriously odd reason, so she was forced to use table legs instead because that is the title of this story. Surprisingly, even to the narrator himself, Butter Knife was actually fine with it. She finally had her name be used once in this chapter and got another pointy sharp object, and the author got to write something inane and stupid again. It's a win-win situation! "Ahem." So anyway, Pointy Stick poked her way out of the potatosack, smelling quite a bit like baked potatoes. She also at some point in the process jabbed the pony that sacked her in the leg, so they were now somewhere over there in a bush wailing to their mommy. Did I mention that the bush is full of thorns, and is on top of the target location for an ultimate siege device? Yeah, that guy's gone... for now. So Cracked Mirror crawled out of the sack that sacked her in the sackening event of oh-sack, and decided to sack the other dude right back. Guess who's currently in priority mail headed straight to not-Ponyville hospital? Oh and also, you're wearing such a beautiful gown right now! You'll surely be the talk of the town! "Heck you." Aww, heck you too. What have we been doing this whole chapter? The only thing that's happened so far is you getting yourself out of a bag! We can't be that slow paced, can we? "Indeed we can, dear narraor. I myself have been quite enjoying the relative tranqu--" WRONG! Let's take this baby and kick the pacing up a notch! "WAIT WHAT NO--" OUT OF NOWHERE A LARGE BOULDER COMES HURTLING DOWN AT BUTTER KNIFE BUT BUTTER KNIFE WAS ABLE TO YEET IT BACK INTO OUTER SPACE WHERE ALL THE BAD SPACE ROCKS BELONG BECAUSE SHE SUDDENLY BECAME SUPRHERO AND SUPERHERO BUTTER KNIFE SAID NO NO NO NO MORE EXTINCTION EVENT LIEK DA DINOSAURS TODAY AND SO SHE YEETED THE BIG OL' HUNKA ROCK BACK INTO SPACE BUT THEN IT PINBALLED ACROSS A BUNCHA OTHER BIG OL' HUNKS OF SPACE ROCKS AND CAUSED A CHAIN REACTION THAT WOULD LEAD TO A BANANA SPLIT LANDING ON HER FACE. "Excuse me, what?" Butter Knife muttered, wiping banana split from her face. "Also, you're using my real name again. That's goo--" Only because I decided to use it while speed-narrating, sweetie. "Don't you dare call me that again. I am the darkness that all ponies fear, the red shadow that is cast in the smoldering fires of destruction, the--" Okay geez, I guet it, you're edgy. Can a guy just enjoy the end of MLP in peace? "Wait what?" You've been saying that a lot this chapter. "What?!" Yeah, your home universe? Or at least, the one it was based on. It's over. Anyway, let's take a look at how those sky wolves are doing! "Noooo!" Yeeeeees!
Well, the roleplay has been dead for months now so let's get back to the usual insanity!Hey Slicey Dicey. Hey, hey, wake up Chonksplitter. "What?" Guess what? I'ma release you from the prison that is the weird fantasy world thing that you've been stuck in for the past several chapters! "It's about time." Instead, you'll be traversing these world, wielding table legs when the need arises! "Wait, what?" You sound a little different today. Cat got your tongue? Are you... "Oh no, oh no no no, don't you dare say it." ...a little hoarse? "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" Anyway, enough dilly-dallying. Let's get down to business, to defeat, the Huns! ...Excuse me for a moment. So. Butter Knife shook her head, frantically backing into a corner. "Oh no, oh no no no, don't you dare shove me into a box again. I know your moves now, author, and you will not control me!" Grindstone User proceeded to pick up a bucket of cotton-candy pink paint, dump it on herself, and then draw a big ol' smiley face over her cutie mark in yellow paint. At the same time, Ego Boost, that darn lovable pony, decided to m a g i c a l l y reappear out of nowhere! Why? To join her bested friend in the whole wide world, of course! How? Who knows? Who cares? She's here, she's queer, and she's ready to SMOTHER ANY WHO DEFY HER UNENDING FLOW OF INFINITE OPTIMISM. "Wait, what? Also, screw you. I give up." "No!" Ego Boost screeched, careening into Convenient Kitchen Utensil To Use In Place Of A Normal Knife, "DON'T GIVE UP, MY LOVE! ~also, the yellow really complements your... pink-ness~ BUT DO NOT FEAR, FOR I SHALL SHARE IN MY OPTIMISM WITH YOU, OR MY NAME IS NOT--" Legends tell that the sound of the nuclear facehoof that just occurred could be heard all the way from Canterlot. Author's Note Oh? This story isn't dead? Whatever shall we do?
The story undeadening part deux!Author's Note Look, it's the return of the return of the completely and utterly illogical story with no semblance of an idea of the fourth wall even existing! Now featuring 100% more Flim and Flam! The story undeadening part deux! "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were caught trying to make sense of this story, right? Same as us, and that weird green man over there." Not-so-chonky-stabbington groaned, summoning a table leg and whacking the cart until it broke. Because reasons. Also, to escape the meme. The world warped around her as she was slingshot back into the reality that she was last seen in, complete with the ~~parasite~~ adoring sidekick of hers, Ego Boost! Still no word yet on LawnPo, but that's probably for the better. A low groan pierced through the air, setting the pair on high-alert because of course we need some looming threat to make things interesting. Raising another table leg, Margarine Fork readied herself for whatever it was that was coming. ... ... ...Of which, apparently, was noth--IN LESS THAN A SECOND'S NOTICE THE GROUND SUDDENLY BURST OPEN AS A RESURRECTED EVIL DESERT OASIS GOLDEN SHREK APPEARED OUT OF NOWHERE, CARRYING PRINCESS CELESTIA OVER HIS SHOULDER AS HE VICIOUSLY KIDNAPPED THE SUN PRINCESS IN A VERY VICIOUS MANNER VICIOUSLY. "Holy buck. What did you just say?" Nothing But A Flesh Wound™ grumbled, slowly beginning to bleed from her ears from the Royal Canterlot Caps-Lock narration. A D V E N T U R E ! "Oh, Buttery, those blood streaks complement the paint in your coat sooooo well!" "S-shut up..." I'm gonna make you say 'baka' right here, right now. "No-BAKA!" And now, it's time for an ad break! We're doing those now, aren't we? "Wait-- ad breaks?! Since when was this story ad-supported?!" Ever since Gamer Luna took all our funding for her vidya gaems, of course! Now let's get on with Flim and Flam! HAVE YOU OR A LOVED ONE EVER BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH DEAD INSIDE? IF YOU HAVE, YOU MAY BE QUALIFIED FOR A FREE SAMPLE OF OUR LATEST TREATMENT, THE EASY-PEASY-MAKE-YOU-QUEASY 1500! IT DOESN'T DO WHAT ITS NAME SUGGESTS, AND WE'VE BEEN SUED MANY TIMES OVER ALREADY FOR MISREPRESENTING OUR PRODUCT. BECAUSE OF THIS, OUR LEGAL FEES REQUIRE US TO CHARGE YOU THE LOW, LOW PRICE OF $19.99 PLUS YOUR NEIGHBOR'S FIRSTBORN CHILD! THAT'S RIGHT, ONLY $19.99! ACT NOW AND YOU MAY BE ENTITLED TO A BI-WEEKLY TREATMENT OF PICKING APPLES TO FEED INTO OUR SUPER SPEEDY CIDER SQUEEZY 6000 TO EARN US MORE MOOLAH, AND-- ...OOOoookay, that's enough of an ad break. Geez, that Easy-Peasy-Make-You-Queasy machine thingamabob sure looks like a great deal! Butter Knife (of whom is only being referred to as such because the author ran out of ideas) groaned, dragging her hooves down her face. "Kill me, please." Nope! This is your story, and by the power of plot armor and chronic main character syndrome, you will survive literally anything! Butter Knife screeched, all while evil Shrek cackled as he retreated into his also-evil swamp with Celestia. Looks like you've got your work cut out for yourself, girl! "No way," Butter Knife shook her head, shoving Ego Boost out of the way and earning herself a complement about manicured hooves. "I am not going to save that goody horseshoes Celestia." But you wiiii-illl! "Argh... fine, I will..." Butter Knife proceeded to be turned into a neon-pink pirate pony because reasons.
So anyway the roleplay is dead and so is this story kthxbaiSomething has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.
