My little pony: Friendship is Fucked

""In World War One, they called it shell shock. The second time around, they called it battle fatigue. After 'Nam, it was post-traumatic stress disorder." - Vietnam war veteran

My little pony: friendship is fucked
The prolonge: we gotta get outta this place

Written by: Liam C

Vietnam, everyone enters...
And nobody leaves unless in a body bag or straight jacket.

More than 10 million soldiers died in world war I... In Vietnam, over 13 million people were killed, missing, captured, or maimed from 1955 - 2012.

And over 20 million gallons of herbicides were used to defoliate Viet Cong hiding places. It decimated 5 million acres of forest and 500,000 acres of farmland. And in 1968 the American military spent 77.4 billion dollars (569 billion dollars in 2021) on the war.

And still, yet, everyone talks about the first world War but neglects the absolute massacre that was the first two Korean wars and the Vietnam war.

Every day, I dream up nothing but nightmares, memories of a jungle that most have long since forgotten about and moved on. But it seems so unfortunate that in my case I cannot say the same, for the nightmares that are hidden within the dense green foliage that most call Vietnam. Are things... Things that I shall not be granted by God the mercy of forgetting, less it be at the barrel of a gun or the cold pinch of a needle. I will never forget what most have, and that is the quagmire that was the Vietnam war.

My name is Christopher James white and this is my dreadful story called 'life'.

I enlisted into the U.S army back in 1962, after a couple of months of service in the army as a grunt I was recruited for the green berets which I, so humbly accept. I was sent to Vietnam to train the South Vietnamese forces in mid-1963 where I introduced the ARVN forces to the art that is 'warfare'. I was offered a role in the now famed "MACV-SOG" or SOG for short, Im sure most of you youngin's know what SOG is so I'll cut straight to the chase and simplify.

Our job was to seriously fuck up the enemy forces via methods that include: sabotage (and no not the black sabbath song, retard), psychological warfare, and guerrilla warfare.

I've been around for almost every major battle in Vietnam from Pleiku to Hamburger hill. I remember most of the operations with my last being the raid on a major NVA POW camp in the winter of 70'.

Whenever I hear the wind howls I remember the screams of men, their Women, dear god, they're 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣. The smells of burning huts and the 'well-used' corpses of young women, the looks on their faces when we destroy their lives entirely. When we kill their animals, burn the houses and crops, destroy the bunkers they made to hide from 𝙪𝙨.

America, the land of the free. The land of safety, peace, and god forbid '𝗰𝗮𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗺',

'𝘀𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘁' what a fuckin' joke that turned out to be.

It was 1966, we were trying to liberate a village that supposedly harbored Viet cong guerrillas, Chinese coalition troops, and NVA troops. At the time we thought we were right when in reality, we were wrong. We had viscously slaughtered their youth, raped their women, shot their infants, burned down their huts, destroyed their crops, and killed their animals.

I was in a platoon made up of two squads of 25th infantry regiment marines, a squad of 1st Calvary army guys, and a squad of SOG members. A very unique combination you might say but we were effective with special forces and a regular army and marines working together.

"Oi, Chris! When I get home, Im gonna find a Vietnamese girl with a nice end table ass, a nice virgin pussy, and some nice and soft titties! Then Im gonna buy a house with eight rooms and a Mercedes!" I heard my friend Charles say.

"Yeah!! You do that, well that's if we even survive this godamn fuck hole! I mean Jesus Christ! It's hot, humid, filled with murderous zipperheads & gooks, and fucking filled with snakes and big ass tarantulas the size of my fucking beret!" I said, "What? You got a fear of spiders or somethin'!?" I heard baby Huey say.

"Fuck off!! I don't exactly wanna wake up with several hundred baby spiders in my godamn boots or a fucking big ass spider in my bush hat!! I already gotta deal with Chieu and his friend charlie chan and chan's godamn fuck buddy Lenin! I don't need to step on a spider orphanage and their pissed-off mother the size of my head!!" I said,

"ALRIGHT!! WILL YOU BOTH SHUT!! DO YOU WANT THE APACHE WOMEN TO FUCK US!!?!" Our captain said, "No? THEN SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY!! I DON'T PLAN ON GETTING SKINNED ALIVE BY SOME BITCH!" Cap said.

"Hey! Eagle what the hell are you readin' back there? The porno or a superman comic!?" I asked.

"No! I'm reading an article!" Eagle said. "Wow! No shit That's fucking amazing!!" I said sarcastically, "Ya don't say!" Eagle said.

"What I meant was what the hell is it about? Football, Kenedy, LBJ, the niggers fighting for justice?! Come on tell me!"

We gained access to the village later that day where we gathered up every single gook in the village and sat them all down in the most open part of the village. Whilst that was going on we were looting and scavenging their huts confiscating any documents, weaponry ammunition, food, water, anything, and everything. We destroyed the weaponry and ammunition while we kept any documentation, we then blew up the crude bunkers they made in their huts while also setting the buildings ablaze.

"The articles about why we are fighting the war!" I heard eagle say, "Well then... EAGLE!! WHY ARE WE FIGHTING!!" I yelled as we drove over a large garden stone.

"IT SAY'S THE GOOKS ARE BAD!!! VERY, VERY BAD AND THAT WE NEED TO... KILL THEM!!!" Eagle yelled as loud as he could as we tried to piss off our prick of a platoon leader.

"WELL, NO SHIT!!! HEY CAPY!!! EAGLE SAYS THE GOOKS AND THEIR PALS THE CHINKS AND RUSKI'S NEED TO DIE!!! BECAUSE... THERE BAD!!" I yelled to the captain,

"SEARGENT IF YOU DON'T SHUT THE GOD-MOTHERFUCKING-DAMN UP I WILL SODOMIZE YOU WITH ONE OF THE CONG'S PUNGI STICKS AND A ZIPPO!!" Our captain yelled back as we were about to enter the village.

"ALRIGHT!!! Everyone grab your shit and guns and hold on to your dicks!! We're bound for gooker hell in about three fucking minutes if we don't get our asses mowed by 50 pits or rocket-propelled fucking's!!" The second lieutenant yelled for us to get prepared.

We captured all the males who wore blue rag clothing, I remember this one guy lost his shit and held a little girl hostage while saying 'You lie! No, you lie. you vc! I caca dau vc!!' He was trying to get a confession out of the man and he didn't get what he wanted so, he... He...

"Di chuyển nó đi!" I heard one of the South Korean marines say as he and a few other re-educated former Viet cong now turned marines pushed some of the gooks around and onto their knees so that they could be executed when the need came.

The corporal h-he shot the little girl with the pistol causing brain matter to splatter everywhere, he then shot the man with the gun causing him to fall head over heels.

In another memory, I remember me and three marines and another green beret were entering this one hut to search the place.

I remember there was a mentally deficient child and his sick elderly grandmother who was slowly dying of tuberculosis, or as slow as you can die from it. The child always had a dopey smirk on his face from what I could translate from the older women who sadly could barely breathe at that point. But one...

One fucking marine lost it because the big dumb bastard thought the kid was trying to be a wiseass when in reality he doesn't know what he's doing. And his fuck buddies including the other godamn green beret who was my friend by the way thought it would be funny to size up his grandmother as well like it was some sick fucking joke.

Coincidently said marines were a part of tigarforce, who was known for wearing necklaces of human ears and scalps.

What happened next was... Just fucked.

The man who was called 'buck' at the time was a lance corporal in the marine corps. He was a part of the 25th marine infantry regiment as well as tigarforce like I said before and he was known for being a short-tempered fuck, and this time... He ended up caving in the retarded child's skull with the butt of his rifle, I didn't enter the hut till after where he was about to fire his rifle at the woman until I charged him and incapacitated him with a No-Gi grapple and kept him incapacitated until two other Marines who weren't involved with these sick bastard and the other two cockheads, knew him and I helped to drag the guy out of the hut, leaving the elderly women to sob over her grandsons mangled corpse.

I still can hear her sobs, even on the brightest and loudest of days with the most distracting events. To the darkest, and most dull and silent of nights with nothing happening, I can still hear her. A-and her cries of sheer agony and terror as she was trapped within her hut when we lit it ablaze. I could hear her damning me to hell as she died, she cursed me in Vietnamese and it still hurts to this day.

Now back to the present, the year is 1973. It is mid-winter, and I am currently trying to move to another residence. For my appearance, I am a caucasian male with a lean and stocky build, I boast a colossal height of six feet and eight inches. with long messy and tangled shoulder-length jet black hair and lime green eyes.

I have several tattoos, and scars all over my body. I have eagle-eye in my only eye because I lost the other one in an 'accident' leaving a horrific wound behind which exposed my orbital bone in my skull and the entire eye socket.

the year is 1973 that asshole Nixon was president, gasoline supplies were shortening, Vietnam was still going on although most of the military that was originally there had left and politics were a shitshow...

The world was recovering from nam', Maoi chang became the dictator of China,
Then the fucking economy of the U.S was plagued with high inflation, an oil crisis, rising unemployment, and the worst recession since the 1930s. The damn recession came about because of that damn oil embargo against the U.S., major government spending on the Vietnam War, a large Soviet purchase of corn, wheat, and soybeans during 72', and a Wall Street crash that caused a bear market all because of those fuck for brains Nixon. And finally those Russki fuckers and their vodka managed to beat whiskey in sales.
So, now that we're all caught up let's get started...

You see, what most people don't understand is that...

We weren't welcomed back here, we were demonized, cussed out, rarely spat on but still shit happens, and just, in general, looked at with discussion. I was always a turn-away kid or what I mean is criminal because I grew up in the shittier part of new york where I made lots of money by stealing radios and cars then selling them. People would usually leave their cars on and unlocked during the winter to let them heat up as they take a shower. This would usually just let us hop in and drive off where we would sell it off to a junkyard or some shit.

Well, I deposited this money into a savings account that now holds around 978,000 dollars, between the heroin dealing for the triads, the cage fighting, football tickets, car theft, and radio theft I had a lot of money. But you see, when I left for the military my cocksucker of a landlord got pissy because I wouldn't be able to line his godamn pockets for an additional 4+ years so he kicked me out. The asshole waited until I got back just to rub it in my face I beat the ever-living shit out of him which got me a nice 145-day incarceration and a 2345 dollar fine which seems like bullshit but I made the guy piss and shit pint after pint of blood for about haft of those 145 days and I wrecked his office with a baseball bat and I Molotov'd his car into a burnt husk and boy was it a nice one too.

His car was a 1955 mint condition Mercedes 300SL gullwing with fine leather seats and all kinds of shit. Well okay, I am joking I didn't burn it but I stole it and had the parts stripped and got a nice 20k for it. What I DID burn down was his office, they never were able to convict me. The only reason why I even got charged with assault was that I intentionally bragged about it in court while laughing my ass off at his catheter that filled with crimson red piss. The judge was surprisingly merciful because he was a world war one veteran whose grandson was fucked over by this fat greaseball prick. The only reason why the judge didn't dismiss it was that this stupid prick had enough connections to fuck him over so he couldn't risk it.

Hadn't the factors been in my favor I could have been in a penitentiary for eight years and a 125,450 dollar fine. So I got very lucky.

Since then I've been drifting from town to town in my 73' Plymouth duster with all of my personal belongings like me and my father's war chests. My father and I came from a long line of military or mob guys my bloodline goes back to Sicily and London. Mainly Sicily, I remember getting a call from a don down in Sicily in 61' apparently he's my great grandfather down there. It was a pain in the ass to communicate because he was a native speaker of Italian and I only knew a little bit of broken Italian from all the wiseguys and overweight greaseballs who came from the old country to here.

Anyways, he said that he knew my mother and grandmother on her side and that If I need anything to call him.

Surprisingly for a 'viscous killer', he's quite honorable and respectful, like all capon till you fuck with him or his guys then you best have a fallout shelter.

Actually, fuck the bomb shelter your better off jumping off a cliff because he'll just drive a godamn tank through your walls and gun you down.

Alright back to it, my great grandfather has been borderline harassing me about a delivery job. Granted I want no part of it but recently, he has been successful at persuading me to take up the job so that's partially why I am currently in a sundown town in backwater Georgia at this moment. Well that, and I need to vist a friend down here and my Russian girlfriend is in eastern Louisiana.

I parked my car right in front of my friend's family home and got out making sure to turn the car off beforehand. I saw his mother hanging up clothing up on a clothes rack out front. I walked up to her and asked her where tony was, what she said broke me even further to the edge and made my hatred for this godamn country burn even brighter like a red giant.

"Tony died in 72' he went from cancer, that godamn shit dropped in nam' the purple and orange gases that them dumbasses used to destroy their land. Ah raised hell with them fuckin' coone asses, but those fuckin' crackers at the damn pentagon told me that because I'm a 'nigger' that I can just fuck right off." Tony's mother said in rage, she was blacker than a damn lump of coal and so was her husband and son.

"Ah, Christ, look I'm sorry rose for bringing that up. I just haven't seen Tony since 69' and I worried about him. Anyways though, I'm sorry to bother you even more but I have to ask you. Do you think it was agent purple and orange?" I asked.

"Well then, what in christ's name do you think it was? Fucking grape and orange juice but gassier? No, it was agent orange poisoning but honestly Ah has not a single fuckin' clue about that purple gas." Rose said, "Well alright, uh, thanks for your time rose. And tell Jack I said hello, he'd kill me If I didn't." I said as I walked off.

"Heh, I will, although he's in the hospital and might be in there for quite a while!! Goodbye now!" Rose yelled back as she waved at me and I returned the favor.

Fucking agent orange... Godamn you ranch hand!!

Several hours later...

I drove along the road for a while until I barely managed to arrive at the town the don told me about. It was a small racist town with almost no black people it was practically the law here to refer to blacks as 'filthy niggers' even in the godamn seventies America was doing a shit job at fairly enforcing laws.

What the fuck do blacks have to look forward to no godamn police strangulations that were exaggerated as the said black guy was flying on fentanyl which fucked up his heart and lungs as it's the equivalent of cocaine times 1000x. Yeah, I don't agree that shavy was 'guilty' firstly the jury was fucked with and blackmailed by libtards and the actual fuckin' doctor stated that the black person in question was on fentanyl and had major heart problems and the fucking video showed that the black guy had a knee on his back. And coming from someone who HAS strangled people to death they don't talk and bitch about lack of 'breathing' for nine fucking minutes.

Heh, and I was TRAINED TO STRANGLE PEOPLE!

Anyways, back to the matter at hand I now had to say words that I hated just to blend in. It's like going to Germany in the thirties and forties and having to say hail Hitler just to not get blasted by some fucking racist blue-eyed blonde retard dressed up all snazzy in grey with a crimson armband armed with an old ass super expensive rifle.

I walked into the town and passed by a lot of people as I tried to find a phone booth which I eventually found and placed a quarter into the machine and used the dial to call him up.

"Ciao, chi mi chiama e perché?" My great grandfather said as he answered.

"Ah, ciao nonno! Desidero parlarvi degli affari e desidero anche informarsi sulle vostre condizioni in questo momento attuale." I said as I asked him about the job and to see how he was doing.

"Sì, ciao mio pronipote! È bello sentire la tua voce perché mi ero preoccupato per il tempo che ti avevano sparato o no!Per quanto mi riguarda sto bene anche se temo che questi anni non siano stati molto gentili con me!" My great grandfather responded. It made me worry as he explained very vaguely that he has been suffering from his age but I hid this fear.

"Cosa significa nonno? Sono I polmoni, il cervello o il cuore?Mi preoccupo che tu consideri quello che era successo all'altra mia famiglia." I asked in what I thought was broken Italian,

"No, neanche mio nipote... È tutto il mio corpo il mio cervello soffre di demenza!Temo che stia marcendo come un dente di leone morto." My great grandfather said.

I was now quiet, very quiet what he had told me had devastated me.

"Ma non temere! Perché quando morirò voglio che tu ti trasferisca qui nel vecchio paese poiché ora stai sviluppando l'accento e becomint fluente in esso ti prenderai cura anche di tua nonna!Sono orgoglioso di te!!" He had said to me which made me feel better but one thing that I didn't like was the 'old country'

he meant for me to move to the cesspool known as Sicily. If I move there I will bet everything I have and all my money as well that I'll end up being on some fat fucks hit list just because I am even remotely related to my great grandfather. I am not going into cement shoes over some fuck up my grandfather had back in 21' or petty shit like that.

"Senti possiamo parlare in inglese, per favore?" I asked, "Alright if that is what you wish, then so be it. I will talk in English." My great grandfather said

"Thank you, now about that job?" I asked, "oh, right... I almost forgot! Heh, there is a man in the town you are at he has a letter that I need you to deliver to a friend! He will tell you the details and before you go
Ti prego, non chiamarmi al telefono pubblico." He said

"Va bene, addio!" I said, "addio!" My great grandfather said before I hung up the phone and continued walking around.

I found a steak & shake dinner in town that was packed to the brim with people. I was initially worried because I had my m-51 field jacket on with all the patches and the Vietnam tour ribbon on as well. I had my beret in my pocket which I put on because it's not like I'm doing myself any favors by not doing so. After all, they're already going to know with the body language and god forbid the fucking jacket.

The exact fucking moment I entered everyone just shut the fuck up as I had just taken a big stinky shit in all their morning coffees. There were a lot of different looks some with admiration as a little boy who was playing with army men in the back just stared at me with joy and admiration
although his mother looked like I just pissed on her mother's grave. Like this bitch was probably just planning on how she was going to kill a 248-pound green beret once I left.

There were a couple of looks of curiosity and fear, and fewer glares of pure burning hatred. The man behind the counter had a strange look of respect which kind of confused me until I barely managed to see his marine corp tattoo right before he covered most of it with his sleeve. Well, at least the manager is a marine so I won't have to worry about getting kicked out unless I make an ass of myself.

I sat down on an old creaky stool in front of the counter right next to another drifter who literally just got up and left immediately.

"Great. Another fucking marine... What the hell do you want?" The bulky man asked

"Got any coffee? Could use some considering I've been kicked out." I said somberly and emotionless as I have gotten used to the "oh look it's the baby raping marine" look from these dumb bastards. Even though I never was a marine.

"Alright, JONAS! GET SOME DAMN COFFEE!!" I heard the man yell loudly, "Anyways sorry about that, anyway I'm frank." Frank said.

"Yeah, I saw the tattoo on your arm. Frank. I served in the green berets, fought alongside and with a lot of marines so I know what the tattoo looks like." I said, "So did you just get back from Vietnam? And did jody get ahold of yer girl?" Frank asked

I inhaled deeply and sighed, "Heh, no I wish that was the case. I got kicked out because I beat the litteral piss out of my piece of absolute shit landlord. Caused him to piss blood for a while though, but no I came back in mid 71' after getting into a drunken bar fight in Laos that caused someone to almost die." I said

"Well, shit. Must've fucked that guy up royally to get sent home during wartime. Godamn these dumb fucking politicians think they know everything they say there letting us go home but yet there are STILL kids stuck in the fucking Hanoi! God forbid they can't just nuke Russia and North Vietnam into the stone age now can they?" Frank said, "Anyways did ya earn any pieces of tin over there?" Frank asked me.

"Well yes, actually, I got a purple heart, around ten actually for the eye and burn on my cheek as well as the several shrapnel wounds, and I was awarded the congressional medal of honor apparently," I said somberly, frank was wide-eyed like a gook just held him hostage.

"Really? You earned the fuckin-" He stopped when I pulled the medal out of my pocket and placed it onto the counter.

"Well, fuck me in the FUCKING ASS!!! this is... THE REAL FUCKIN' DEAL!!" Frank said, "I got it after... After the Hilton." I said

"Yeah, I heard about that on the radio, they say a bunch of 5th SFG guys raided the place and shot it to shit and saved a fuck load of those poor bastard POWs," Frank said as he pointed to the radio.

"Yeah, operation hat or linebacker... Wait no, shit okay I can't remember the name of the op but we trained for three months down in Florida. Then we flew into north Nam' we ended up blowing into a barracks that wasn't the prisoners were located. A shit tsunami ensued but we kicked their asses and rescued a few POWs." I said.

"Here's your coffee, sir." A Hispanic dude said as he slid a cup of coffee over towards me. "Thanks... Err how much do I owe ya, frank." I said as I reached for my wallet.

"Eh, at ease Sergeant 1st class. Heh, it's on the house considering you a war hero and all. Well, that and the fact that I'm sure you got harassed by these tree huggers when ya returned." Frank said chuckling in the process. "Thanks, anyways where did ya serve? World war one, world war two, Vietnam-" frank gave me a hand sign that meant quiet.

"I served in Korea. In Korea, I got awkward looks and an almost forced welcome. The shit you guys go through when coming home disgusts me, these governments and people think they got all the answers. Blah, blah. Been there. Seen that, got the scars." Frank said somberly..

"There was this Viet cong woman, we called her the apache woman. She used to flay marines alive on hill 55 near one of our bases. I still remember when she, flayed my chest for its skin. Christ..." I said with a quiet shaky voice.

"Holy fucking hell... How bad was it there?" Frank asked, "You couldn't even tell if someone is dead or not as we all looked like walking skeletons with our skin being as pale as our bones." I said to Frank, I was going to continue when the little boy I saw before pulled on my leg and tried to get my attention.

"Hey! You look like one of my toy army guys! Is it true that you fight the bad guys as they do?" The little boy asked, "Well, yes I just returned home a few years ago. My job was to fight the evil forces of mao yur!" I said while lying in the process just to make this kid's day. Because at the end of the day, it's usually very rare to have people idolize you if your EX military unless you fought in ww2.

If anything WE were the bad guys.

"Wow! I have a question though, can you sign my comic book! Please," the little boy asked, "Uh, why, sure! So where do I sign?" I asked as I took the book, it was a superman comic book. An original issue, issue number 12. Would be a shame to ruin it but I want to make the kid's day at least. The kid pointed to the bottom of the book where I wrote: "Sergeant first class Christopher Jameson white of the united states green berets, fifth special forces group."

I gave the book back to the kid when a very, very woman came up to me and started harassing me.

"How DARE you touch my child! You fucking baby-killing rapist!!" The woman Who I'll can Karen yelled in my face.

Yeah, this bitch was pulling the unoriginal baby killer card.

"Woah, Woah! What the fuck lady your kid walked up to me and engaged in the conversation! I didn't touch your fucking child, he just wanted me to sign his comic book because he admires the U.S military!" I said, "Fuck you child rapier!" The woman said as she punched me straight in the nose.

"Okay Now, what in the holy dickfuck is going on!?" Frank asked as he looked at me and then her, "Well! This bastard tried to talk to my child! Fucking fucker!" The Karen said.

"Yeah, sure, sure! Yes Karen, because signing a comic is so bad. No, he didn't I was standing behind the counter the whole time, AND I talked to him before you came out. So shut THE FUCK UP OR I WILL THROW YOU OUT!!" Frank said I heard her scuff as she then ran off with her child grumbling.

I then left the town now fed up with this place when I man in a three-piece suit and trench coat stopped me on the outside of town.

"Mr. White," I heard the man say. "Yeah what's it to ya?" I said.

"Il tuo bisnonno ha detto che volevi un lavoro." The man said, "Hai ricevuto la lettera?" I asked.

"Sì, e ha detto di prenderlo a Las Vegas dove suo fratello si prenderà cura di tutto" The man said, "Ok, lo farò. Di' a don Carlito che avrà la sua lettera, senza problemi." I responded as the man let me go and enter my car where I started the engine to leave.

"Prima di andare... Il tuo bisnonno mi ha chiesto di darti questo." The man said as he walked over to me and put his hand into his pocket where he gave me an envelope.

"Duecentomila e venticinquecento dollari e due centesimi.In un assegno, naturalmente, sarà incassato solo da un uomo di nome Dominic angelitilo a Las Vegas." The man said somberly as he handed me a check that can be cashed in for a mini fortune. I nodded my head and drove off.

I was going to drive to Vegas from here and do what that man asked but I thought of something else. I realized I would need gas so I drove down the street for about ten minutes until I found a royal dutch shell gas station with four vacant pumps.

The gas station was an old one likely from the thirties or forties, the station was made of a mix of brick, wood, and congregated steel for a roof.

The iconic yellow shell sign was mounted above the glass entrance, I parked my car next to the closest pump and killed the engine. Inside the station, I was hit with the strong, all-to-familiar smell of herb or in layman's terms weed.

I look to my left where I found the source of the smell, sitting in a wooden chair with his legs resting on top of the counter was a man dressed in a fucking tye dye
T-Shirt, dirty blue jeans, godamn sandles, and a fucking bandana on his head.

He greeted me whilst the song "travelin' band" by Creedence clearwater revival was playing in the background. I asked the hippie behind the counter how much it would cost to get twenty-five gallons.

He replied with "Woah man, your like one of those marines right? Anyways I dunno 28 dollars maybe?"

At this point, I wanted to slap the guy for clearly being higher than a fucking Kyte on marijuana but I slowed my hate for these spineless fucks and paid the man. I filled up on gasoline and I continued down the road for a while.

After an hour of driving later, the sky started to become grey and eventually, it started to rain. And rain it did, the rain poured down so hard and heavily that it reminded me of the sound an m60 machine gun made.

The rain soon caused me to develop a splitting migraine that felt like my brain was going to split in haft. then after a couple of minutes of this repeated mind fucking, lightning struck down on a nearby tree and made an incredible sound. I started to get memories of when I first came home, I was called all kinds of vile shit.

"Baby killer!" "Raping bastard!" "Child slayer!" All kinds of offensive words, some teenagers even tried to spit on me after I confronted them for spitting on the coffin of a dead marine. I broke their faces six godamn ways, I tried to join the VFW only for those dickfucking world war two vets from what I call the 'heroes brigade' said I 'didn't fight a real war' fucking tightasses.

The Korean vets were worse, they controlled the American Legion they're tightasses to the fucking letter. Fuck them, I couldn't even get into the VA hospital as they denied my godamn papers! I got an honorable discharge! But they just said that the papers weren't legitimate!

I have the godamn dress uniform, the scars, the papers, the fucking tattoo, even the discharge papers! I even got the lieutenant-general to verify my shit and they still denied it. I get no pension I get nothing but scars and homelessness!

Fuck this country! Fuck our President! Fuck those tight asses in the VFW and legion! Fuck them all!

They don't want to help me, they just want to milk me, abuse me, cuss me out, tease me, fuck them. And fuck that.

Those paper-shuffling soldier boy tight assed jackasses can kiss my fucking ass! What the fuck do they know what it feels like to get fucked by your country and become homeless and alone!? Nothing and they never will understand! What the fuck do I honestly have to live for really? A godamn civilian body bag because of agent orange or die on the streets cold and alone as my own brothers in arms won't even irreverent the due respect I deserve!

I served my country like them! I was wounded psychologically and psychically like them! I fought for 'liberty' and 'freedom' like them! And yet I still face harsh insolent on a daily fucking business, because of what!? My undying insubordination to this lying and deceiving shithole of a country!! Their godamn hatred towards us is fucking inscrutable it's fucking ridiculous!

I'm about to just blow my fucking brains out and be done with it already, because who will care right?

All my friends are dead with those faggots from the heroes brigade laughing as they piss on their graves as we speak!

My family is fucking massacred with barely any close family left besides my two uncles serving life in USP Atlanta and my brother who got partially blinded in the second Korean war!

I don't have children! I had a Vietnamese girlfriend who told me to go fuck myself as she sells her body to marines! And I have no property other than my car and the wooden trunks inside it!

T-the world would be better o-off
an-anyways! Nobody loves me, nobody cares about me, everyone that did died painful deaths, and any people that do care about me that are still alive are in an unresponsive state in a VA hospital or they are homeless and dying of agent orange poisoning and cancer.

"I-Its official... My life, i-is... A fucking LIE!! N-nobody cares! And everyone hates! T-the-re's n-no point! I'll only die as some nobody with n-no respect as the people who served with me d-die dishonored by their country as t-the fucking cocksuck ww2 vets live h-happily and have families and celebrate veterans day d-drinking with there bud's and pissing on our graves laughing and ignoring our suffering!" I said sobbing as I just covered my face with my hand and opened the glove box where I got out a recondo book, a pen, and my service pistol.

"Be-Because af-after-rall! W-were just lowly... b-baby killers! Not deserving, o-of symp-sympathy, respect, h-honor, or love! B-because!" I sobbed loudly as I ripped a blank page out of the book and wrote a little letter for anyone who even cares to alert anyone about the 'baby killer' who just shot himself.

I got out my beret and medal of honor and wore it around my neck, and I folded up the suicide note and placed it on the inside of the beret which I placed on the dashboard.

"Because w-were Vietnam ve-veterans! N-not is deserving of basic human rights... Not able to handle, basic human compassion! J-just... J-just! H-hated! Only hatred, spite, and violence! Why? Wha-at d-did I do? I just wanted to serve! I just wanted to respect a-and you can't give me even that!" I said as I raised the gun to my head and pulled the hammer back.

I looked out the window and saw my reflection, no longer the stotic but joyful person with a stone-faced expression and clean-shaven hair.

What I saw finally drove me to end it...

My hair was messy and greasy and shoulder-length and knotted to the point of me looking like a caveman. Horrific lacerations and burns on the right side of my face, a horrific bloody and necrotic hole that was a sickly green and reddish-brown.

You could literally see the severed optic nerve and there was even a smashed-up larva egg that I tried to pull out and ended up breaking it open. You could even see dead greenish flesh that was around the socket itself which was torn up enough from a grenade blast that it exposed my skull.

There were three chunks of skin grafted to the right side of my face with staples, glue, and threading, you could see the once pink now dark red and greenish-brown with a minor part of my hair missing from that side causing more hair to grow on my
sideburns making me look like a genetic freak.

The skin grafts were slightly loose, dry, and fairly rotted though not dangerously. If I didn't have these skin grafts on my face my horrifically burnt muscle and skull would show through slightly which would also make the side of my teeth and tongue visible to the naked eye.

My skin was greasy and slightly tanned with bags from exhaustion being under my only working bloodshot green eyeball, part of my nose and lip were missing with a slash wound being visible going from under my working eye towards a diagonal direction through the skin graft.

There was barely an eyeball inside the wound but, it was almost completely decomposed and was pushed back deep into my skull. The eye was smooshed on top of the optic nerve. For those who don't know your optic nerve looks like a wide copper wire that's been pushed back into your skull, and my right ear was half amputated.

At this point, my sobs got only more pained and sorrowful with thickening horror and fear being evident. "G-God... P-please, forgive me for I do not have t-the wi-will to live an-anymore. Goodbye." I said as I closed my eyes and allowed the final tears to fall before I finally did it.

'𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸', '𝗣𝗟𝗙𝗧!'

My body immediately fell headfirst into the steering wheel as my brain matter painted the driver's seat, steering wheel, and driver's side window. The gun fell from my hand and fell onto the floor next to the gas pedal as blood dripped onto the fuzzy floor. Everything effectively went dark as consciousness and intelligence were stripped from me turning me into an unthinking humanoid vegetable.

Then my senses began to perceive new sounds and smells. Muffled voices, smells of fauna, feelings of peace, and only for it all to get stolen when the sweet release of death wasn't there and the sour painful sense of consciousness broke through.

I felt myself waking up facedown in a mud-filled ditch which made me instinctually wail around until I was sitting on my ass as once more and not my gut. I immediately felt a wave of emotions and feelings.

Pain, sadness, anger.

The smells of fresh rain, mud, earth, and blood.

Feelings of pain as my brain tried to rip itself apart as my senses were overloaded and destroyed me.

I just sat there covered in mud and soaked with cold freezing rain which started to bring back horrible memories of the winter in Vietnam.

I just can never get what I want, I can't even be given death.

Am I evil even within the eyes of god for serving my country?

I just sat there, crying, and crying as I sobbed with a volume loud enough to drown out a heavy machine gun and mortar.

The world around me, from what I could see was very cartoony looking with the grass having an unrealistic lime green shade with the sun being an unrealistic shade of yellow while in real life it'd be a whiter color. I was very confused and kinda afraid because this wasn't my world anymore, but this could be heaven.

Oh wait, I can't go to heaven because even god hates me for being a veteran.

Well, I had to find out where I was I then remembered that there was an old pair of binoculars in the car which I found and then got out of my car. I was still very drowsy and lightheaded when I stepped out of the car but I barely managed to focus long enough with my binoculars.

I scanned the surrounding area around me, seeing not much around me. There was a set of thick woods to the north, there was an apple orchard to the west, a town to the east, and a very large city to the south. I had drawn a crude map using a sheet of yellowed paper so I could have at least some form of local action.

I drove to the woods in my Plymouth duster, driving through the woods I managed to reach a dirt trail that nearly destroyed my tires. I drove down the trail until eventually, I reached another clearing, this one had a shitload of trees. Maybe it was that apple orchard I saw earlier.

Besides, if there are other humans... Then maybe they might be able to point me in the direction of the city. So it's my best shot. When I was driving down the dirt road, I saw hoofprints planted in the mud besides but there were no footprints, and the prints that were there weren't the normal prints you'd get from horses that are big enough to ride, they were small like those of ponies.

When I got to the village, I didn't see any humans at all. But there was something else...

Talking... Ponies...

I tried to enter the small little village, When I entered everyone thought I was the devil and probably wanted me crucified. I ignored them and continued onwards when I saw a white unicorn thing, getting ganged up on some dirtbag bird hybrids.

I took cover behind a garbage can and listened in where I heard their leader start speaking commands to the mare. She was beautiful with nice glossy hair that was finely curled, she reminded me of the women you would see in nineteen-thirties ballrooms. She had oddly enough a tattoo on her flank with three light blue diamonds, she had an odd accent that was strangely fancy. She might be a powerful person, but then again if she was why is she getting mugged in the middle of a tiny village. But IF she was a political figure this favor could change politics towards me or off of me if I fuck up royally. I had to take the chance.

I took my eyepatch off reviling my hideous wound for intimidation value as I had unholstered my Rambo combat knife. I named it after the Rambo apples which I love by the fucking way.

"Hey!! Fuckface, who the holy jungle fucker fuck do you's think you are to gang up on a woman or mare!!" I said as I got in a perfect boxer stance with my knife in my front hand as I tried to hide my other arm as I was cooking up a haymaker punch for one of these fat fucks.

One of the leaders came over and looked me straight in the eye with a strong glare, but I gave him one that horrified him right before I sent him fucking flying into a wall with a haymaker.

One other Griffin ran towards me and tried to stab me with a switchblade where I disarmed him and stuck him into the chest with my big ass knife. I pierced his heart which caused a slight bit of blood to come out of his mouth before I pulled the knife out and kicked him out.

A Griffin got up behind me and tried to strangle me & slit my throat in the process. I used the palm of my hand to control his claws and grabbed the griffens other hand and then threw them over my back where I kicked him until he stayed down. I wiped off my knife and holstered it, when I walked up to the pony and got on one knee.

"Are you alright? Look I'm sorry about the bloodbath, but I wanted to make sure you're alright." I said, "Well... Er, yes. Yes, Im alright darling but I fear I must leave now. Goodbye." The mare said as she walked off and picked up the pace quickly as it turned into a run.

Even here I can't get respect, when will I ever get it?

I walked around a bit more when a bright pink blur got into my face and yelled.

"HHHIII THERE!!" The blur said, "WOAH HOLY FUCK!" I said as I damn near fell over, she happily giggled and laughed as I just glared daggers at her as I wasn't in the mood. "What the fuck do you want?" I said

"Well...IsawthatyouweresadandIwantedtocheeryouupandthrowyouawelcometoponyvillepartysilly." I shushed the pink pony to get her to shut up, "First of all, my name is... Uh, john, john Rambo. And secondly I DON'T WANT A FUCKING PARTY!!!" I loudly yelled in the same voice that the Drill instructors used when they chewed you out.

The mares mane deflated and she teared up but me, not wanting to deal with this shit. Grabbed her by her forehooves causing her to make an 'EEP' sound, and then I threw her with all my strength and into the other direction where she crashed into a bunch of shit. Probably breaking a couple of bones, I quickly left only to have shit thrown at me. Of which included bottles, trash, fruit, godamn bolts of fucking 'light', fuckin' arrows shot from bows, rocks, and whatever the fuck these godamn technicolored midgets could get the fuck hoofs or 'light' upon.

Needless to say, I got into my car and hauled ass back down the trail, at this point I was running out of gas and parked my car where I got out of it. I put on an m1952A1 flak jacket over my shirt, and under my m51 field jacket I wore over it, I also got out an m16A1 'Mattel gun' and a few magazines. I grabbed this gear because I saw a forest nearby that I could hide in but I needed to scope it out before I rest in there.

I began my trek through the forest with minimal resistance, for the time being, that is. I walked around the forest noting down any unusual animal or plant behaviors, weird tracks, new foliage, and I also took samples of a strange type of bark from a large aged oak tree. Nearby the tree was several different wolf tracks and strange new green and red multi-eyed mushrooms with bone white spots around them, a strange reddish-white residue came from the stalk of the large mushrooms. The puss-like residue smelled of hospital-grade antiseptics and a metallic taste like a copper battery.

When I turned around I saw a shitload of big ass yellow-eyed wolves that instead of fur had wood and stone on their skin with several thick patches of what appears to be blueish-green Penicillium mold that covered the timber parts of their skin.

I could make penicillin with the mold that is growing on their skin, but I didn't have much longer to think because one of these cocksuckers charged me.

I sidestepped the dick cheese and allowed him to roll off a cleverly hidden cliff that was terrifyingly close by. I opened fire upon the other shitbirds, cockasses, and dick cheeses with my rifle, I managed to take out four of them before a shitload more came charging ahead and I had to reload. Fortunately, however, an oddly formed savior came out of the woods and started wrecking shit, it was a mythical Minotaur.

At that point, I fuckin' bolted out of those damned woods where I landed almost right into the arms of a mob of about twenty ponies. They would have attacked me If I hadn't forgotten about an old SOG V70 mini Grenade that was hidden within my flak jacket pocket, I quickly pulled it out and threw it as fast as I could.

It killed and maimed fourteen people, and wounded three others. At that point, the group-fucked right off, and right on time as a pack of fucking Minotaurs came running out of the forest towards me. It was a good thing that the car was nearby for I was able to drive away from the assholes, and I ran over a grey crossed-eyed Pegasus mare with a blonde mane dressed in a postman outfit in the process.

"Oh my god, they killed derpy!" A lime unicorn said, "THAT BASTARD!" An earth pony with curly hair said as well.

At this point, I probably had just fucked over any chance of getting on their good side by just committing several acts of domestic terrorism plus, an act of vehicular homicide. But I had a plan, I would just put a bullet in my skull, right?

Yeah, that'll solve the issue a bullet, but I can't give up at the moment for there might be actual human civilization down the road. I can only hope so.

But alas, it was in vain because I only found a bent-up metal sign saying the directions of a couple of places.

An apple orchard, a major city called 'canterlot', a town called 'ponyville', or a city called griffenstone. I decided an apple orchard would be better because it would have a smaller group of people that would likely be more disconnected from major law enforcement or military forces. And in case the shit gets too thick it would be easy to put them down for good than an entire town or god forbid a major metropolitan area that would have massive amounts of police, swat team, and possibly a nearby military base to boot.

I AM NOT fucking John Rambo, if I was I wouldn't have run away like a bitch from ten, no, twelve-foot-tall 867-pound muscular creatures that could rip me into tiny little fucking pieces like paper through a shredder.

Besides, local farmers could be easier to convince than a town or major city it would be in my better interests to do so.

I continued driving a while longer until I came across an open field that south of it was a dense treeline that had a wooden fence surrounding it. This is it, the apple orchard I was looking for. Now I can only hope this will go better than the town did, I parked my car fairways away from the orchard right behind an old red and white painted barn. I snuck around a bit hiding behind fence posts, trees, boxes & crates, etc. I managed to keep out of sight for a while hell, I even managed to get inside the house where I bummed a few gold coins that were poorly hidden away from sight.

I looked around the house and examined several photographs, none of which involved nor referenced any humans or technology besides basic shitass filmography. I also managed to steal a couple of bits of affordable-looking jewelry and a pair of nice-looking horseshoes? I dunno but I took them anyway figuring that I might need to sell them for money sometime. I snuck back out through a window in their bathroom which was conveniently located behind the house giving me an area that had several bushes and trees that lead up to an open field near my car allowing me to sneak back.

When I was approaching my car, I saw a little normal-looking butterscotch colored filly with red hair and a little cute bow on her head. She didn't have an ass tat like everyone else. Under normal circumstances, I would be fine with this, but considering I just was chased down by fucking ponies and nearly shredded down in juicy Slim Jims for a group of mythological beasts four times my size I was reasonably pissed off and was about ready to snap.

I snuck behind the filly and readied my handgun.

I was going to make an example out of this little shitbird asscock.