Littlepip awakens as she always does; to the same dull grey metal ceiling of her dull grey metal box; a small, soul-crushing place purposed to be her bedroom. The ever-delightful experience of living in the well-buried bunker and all of its sameness wore on her soul just a little bit, as it always did every time her eyes opened.
"Why do I keep doing this?" she questions herself. "Is it because I believe there's something better? Is it base survival instinct? Is it my thicc juicy ass?"
She glances down at her shapely posterior. The same mark of a Pipbuck remains on its curved surface, the mark of her talent: The very same machine everyone wears on their forehooves.
"Well, whatever the answer may be, I need to get me some coffee and grub. This thicc ass won't get any juicier on its own," she chuckles mirthlessly.
Sliding out of the sturdy steel bed, she sets her hooves on the steel floor, feeling the metal bend slightly under her weight. She frowns at that. "Man. You'd think Stable-Tec would have made something a little sturdier, being as this could be the forever home of our race," she comments.
She shambles her way on out of her room, wincing at the occasional give in the floor below her as she makes her way to the cafeteria. Ignoring all that exists there but the coffeepot, Littlepip beelines for her target and soon starts ingesting that bitter bean juice.
"Late start today, huh?" a charming voice beside her questions.
"Wazzat?" Littlepip blearily asks, looking around for the source, which soon reveals itself as Velvet Remedy, key songstress of the Stable. She is holding a slightly dripping cup of coffee from her position on the floor. "Oh. Hi. What are you doing down there?"
"Well, I was getting a cup of coffee, but it seems as though you've decided that I should cut out the caffeine in my diet," she answers evenly.
"Oh. Damn. Zombie brain strikes again."
"Clearly. I suppose all of the blood that's supposed to be in your head is circulating in a much larger part of your body, isn't it?"
"Should I feel offended about that?" Littlepip inquires, then tosses more coffee down her gullet. "I feel like I should be offended at that."
"I'm calling you a fatass, in a fairly inefficient manner," Velvet explains.
"Well, my ass is pretty fat," Littlepip agrees. "I guess you got me there."
"Clearly. Well, I suppose I'll leave you to your coffee," Velvet remarks from her continued position on the floor. "Do warn me if you're going to make any holes in the floor or wall - the acoustics in this metal box are already terrible enough as is."
"Mmkay," Littlepip agrees, and wanders off to the food line, where she gets herself a nice, tasty, mountainous bowl of mashed potatoes, with a towering side of hashbrowns and tater tots. "Damn if I don't fucking love mashed potatoes," Littlepip murmurs, shortly before unhinging her jaw and shoveling in all of the carbs with her bare hooves. The plate became sparkling clean, like new, all in under ten seconds.
"Damn. Can't believe I got all those tater tots stacked up like that. I guess that means you can call this a BALANCED breakfast! ...Amirite?"
The large line of ponies behind her in the food line stay mostly silent, some glaring at her, some standing in exhausted acceptance, some sliding slightly towards her.
"Wait, what?" Littlepip questions, then notices that the floor beneath her was starting to buckle. "Aw, fuck, not again."
With a hearty snap, Littlepip finds that her new velocity is 'straight down' and 'immediately' and she quickly decides that she heartily disapproves of it. However, she falls all the same, landing on a reinforced bed in the infirmary.
"Well, well, you're back again," the satin-rich voice from across the room purrs. A pure white unicorn with pink hair steps into the light coming down from the cafeteria. "And you even took out the lights. You've outdone yourself this time, Littlethicc."
"Dammit. I swear, Stable-Tec needs to give us a refund. Cheap ass two-foot-thick steel walls and floors. What cheapskates," she spits.
The nurse gives a delighted chuckle. "What cheapskates indeed. Well, since you're here, how about you get settled and I'll give you your 'monthly checkup'," she suggests with a wink as she pulls out a stethoscope and rests the cool metal surface on Littlepip's chest.
Littlepip feels her loins stirring with the suggestive content suddenly making its way into the scene. "I don't think I'd object to that," she purrs right back. "Lay it on me, Doc - What's my diagnosis?"
"A thicc juicy ass, that's what," the nurse cheerily informs. "Your heart is going to stop in three days."
There's a pause in the air. "Oh. That's significantly less sexy than I thought it would be," Littlepip notes.
"Heart disease is pretty unsexy, isn't it? Yes, sadly to say, your ticker will stop its tocking in seventy-two hours."
"Well, that's a total downer. Is there anything I can do to fix it, Doc?"
The nurse considers for a moment. "I hear that the Wasteland holds some very interesting artifacts. If you can get your thicc hooves on a prosthetic heart, then I think I could keep you from getting recycled."
"Consider it done, doc," Littlepip salutes. "I'll return before three days are up with a new heart and save this thicc ass from destruction."
The nurse smiles, amused. "Make sure to come back if you fail, as well. That ass will keep many ponies fed for a long time."
"Damn. Didn't know you were looking forward to eating my ass," Littlepip flirts with a blown kiss and a wink.
"It does constitute half of the possible food resources in the Stable, so yes, I can say that many ponies are looking forward to it," the nurse confirms, her cheery smile never wavering.
Littlepip blinks, unsure how to take that. "Yeah, okay," she mutters as she exits the room.
Down the halls she trundles until she finds herself in front of the Overmare's office. She knocks on the door, the metal denting slightly from the impact of her thicc hooves. The door slides open with a slight squeal of metal on metal.
Standing behind the door and wincing is the grey-haired Overmare. "Yes, Littlepip, what do you want?" she inquires, annoyed.
"I need to go out into the Wasteland to go get myself a new heart," Littlepip explains. "It's a matter of life and death!"
The Overmare considers this carefully. "Okay," she states simply.
"Sick tricks, chick," Littlepip nods. "See you later."
"Mm," the Overmare acknowledges.
Littlepip stumbles her way on down to the Great Stable Door. In front of the door on a raised platform is a keyboard, a speaker, and a big red button. Littlepip cheerily approaches the keyboard. "Aw yeah, radical!"
She then immediately realizes that she has no idea what to do to open the door. "Aw shit."
She whacks at the keyboard. "Access denied," a bored voice emits from the speaker.
She types in 'Password'. "Access denied," the voice repeats.
She squints at it and then nods, quickly hitting up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, Enter.
"Access granted. Have fun out there in Hell," the voice monotonously utters.
As Littlepip watches, alarms blare, steam jets off from various pipes, gears turn, and a low humming begins to rise. Then, the giant cogwheel Stable Door falls over flat with an earth-shaking thud.
"Yeet. Let's go!" Littlepip cheers as she hops up on the gear, denting its surface slightly as she dances across it on her way out.
Author's Note
I have no idea.
