The story that absolutely isn't a sequel to anything.
The Conquest of Slappington... or not.
Author's Note
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The Conquest of Slappington... or not.
Anon rubbed his face, still sore some ten or so months after getting a nuclear face-slap from Celestia in return for his feeble attempt to punch her.
A low hum filled the room as a rift in reality opened up. Discord, of course, was responsible for this.
"Hm? Me?" Discord scoffed at the narrator. "Why, it was you, in fact, that just narrated me into this story! What task do you wish for me to perform?"
The narrator rolled his eyes, his hands ice-cold from the winter weather while he typed his next words. Discord proceeded to point a lone claw at Anon, snapping them Thanos-snap style. Flecks of Anon began to drif-- hey, wait, this ain't Avengers Infinity War! This is a story about Anon going slap-happy all over again because he never learned his lesson the first time 'round! Let's take it from the top, boys!
A resounding smack echoed through the room. Anon shook his mildly-sore hand, staring at the well-slapped punching bag in front of him. He'd failed not once, but twice now in Canterlot, when he left behind his ten foot long metal pole and went bare-knuckled against the faces of Luna and Celestia. He got off relatively fine with Luna, even getting a free heal from whatever healer side the Princesses were secretly hiding, but Celestia? Hoo boy, did he get a good walloping in return.
Not this time. This time, he'd be the one slapping them. A slap was lighter than a punch in most cases, so that meant that if it flopped then he'd get a lighter punishment, right? Either way, slaps were the way to go. And not just for the Princesses, but all of Equestria. Twilight Sparkle? One good slap should get her to pay attention to his long rants about being a green baldie in Equestria stereotypically portrayed as a complete and utter douchebag. Cadance? Slap the shipping out of 'er, and give a smol smacc to Flurry Heart while he's at it to keep her entertained. That would take care of the Princesses. He presumed he could probably take out the rest of the ponies pretty easily by running through a crowd with his arms outstretched. It was stupid enough to work, after all, and he knew stupid.
Now, for the actual "let's-do-this" part of the plan.
He gave the punching bag another slap for good measure, though the bag got him back square in the face.
"Sister, please! I beg of you, return the power cord of my Heccbochs Too so I can play Ourcraft! Glimglam AB sent me a review copy of the game, and I must fulfill the desires of my Metube subscrooplers and post a new video!"
Celestia lowered her newspaper, deadpanning at her sister over the top. "Luna, I didn't understand a single word you just said. My heated throne cushion was lacking a power cord, and I did not feel the need today to trot down to Mediocre Buy for a new one.
The doors slammed open. A heaving Anon stood in the doorway, propping himself up with his ten foot long metal pole. He wouldn't forget it this time. It was his poking stick in case things went south. Just as before, he stomped up to Luna, clenching the pole just a little tighter the closer he came. Also just like before, he locked eyes with the Night Princess, of whom proceeded to shout a welcome in her trademark Royal Canterlot Caps-Lock™. But that's beside the point, and the author already wrote that scene before, so let's just skip to the funky stuff.
Anon raised a hand, nervously glancing at Celestia. Celestia didn't appear to notice. She was reading Equestria Daily. Honestly, she was probably actually just drooling over fanart or something. Nopony really knows exactly why Celestia reads newspapers.
Back to the point.
Anon felt something touch his still-raised hand. He looked up, seeing Luna chuckle as she gave him another high-five... high-hoof? idk.
"No, that's not what I wanted!" Anon screeched in only the most 'REEEEEEEE'-y voice possible, "I came here to sla--"
Celestia lowered her newspaper, frowning at Anon.
"--m some noobs into the ground with you!"
Celestia snorted, returning to her ~~concealed copy of Playpony~~ reading material.
Luna's face immediately lit up at the mention of her favorite pasttime. "You wish to PWN some n00bs? Well, why didn't you say so earlier? Unfortunately, my Heccbochs Too is currently unpowered thanks to my sister's stone-cold bottom, but I do have an Intrendo Swotch! What noobs would you like to PWN?"
She held up the iconic game console in her aura, clearly distracted by her thoughts. Now was his moment to shine. Maybe he'd actually manage to do something that Luna could feel this time... and not break his hand while he's at it, too. He raised his ten foot long metal pole in defense, his hand already beginning to swing. Whatever the case was, he was going to slap this Princess for all she'd denied him in the past. The same went for everypony else on this Faust-forsaken planet!
Pang.
"Ow."
Anon's eyes shrunk to pinpricks. He'd almost forgotten how immovable the faces of alicorns were. What was it that it was described as last time 'round? Tanks made of Nokia bricks, right? Right.
Well.
This time, both Celestia and Luna had prepared for what was to happen. Both at the moment had lit their horns, catching Anon's hand mid-slap and instead directing the slap at an inverted pincushion. How does one acquire an inverted pincushion? That's up to you to find out.
Celestia picked a pin out of Anon's hand, sticking it into a normal, noninverted pincushion. "Have you learned your lesson yet, Anon?"
Anon shook his head, raising the ten foot long metal pole with his free hand. He must've had quite a bit of arm strength to do that without help. It must've been the slapping practice he did. Before he could act, however, the pole dislodged from his hand, and was hurled out the window where it proceeded to smack the (literally) stoned Queen Crysalis across the face. She didn't shatter, because the pole was WEAK.
The two sisters plled out the rest of the pins and temporarily crippled Anon's hands again, sending him whimpering on his way. Though, he did smack a few guards he passed with his limp fingerball.
A bolt of magic came hurtling out of the throne room behind him, hitting him in the back. What was the spell?
The 'Why are you hitting yourself?' spell, of course.
A resounding smack echoed through the castle. This time, it was his own face that got smacked.
You clicked the story! 
