The Teletubbies Come To Town :3 Friendship Ahoooy!

Touch Down’s big eyes absorbed the scene before him, and his small brain had a lot of trouble discerning what was happening. For some reason his girlfriend, Applejack, who had talked loud at him recently, was with some pink thing.

He stared and he stared, but couldn’t quite tell what was going on. Then suddenly another pony entered, and everything became so much more confusing. Touch Down scratched his head as his mind worked tirelessly to discern the details in full. It was purple, and it was a she! He can tell a she-pony because they always make his wee wee a little chubby when he looks at their tail-hole.

She had black spinnies instead of horse-hands, and she began rootin’ and tootin’ from her tail-hole. Touch Down, from his position across the street, clopped his forelegs together and laughed heartily.

“Fart funny,” he articulated, prompting some eager nods from a few Earth ponies nearby who quickly agreed with him and farted themselves, as though to affirm their point. He, too, farted.

After this, he looked back at Applejack from across the street and his jaw dropped open. She had climbed onto that pink thing’s dick. Worse too, its dick was huge! Touch Down always felt a bit inferior upon seeing big dicks, even though his is quite impressive for a pony. Despite his shame, in a rare burst of activity, his brain managed to feel another emotion at the same time. ANGER. Touch Down was MAD. This strange pink thing was penis poking Applejack!

He was about to go over there and do something about it, when suddenly the pink thing thrust Applejack into the purple horse with a horrible squelching sound. All he could do was stare as his precious Applejack was reduced to red sludge (most likely tasty red sludge, he thought).

After a few moments, the pink thing had fucked the purple one into the sky and turned away, to stare at its hands. Now he was going to go across the street and do something!

Again, he was interrupted, as the pink creature clutched its little tummy in the hands at which it had previously been staring. Then it did that whole pooping thing I mentioned earlier, sending a colossal shit rocketing over Touch's head and likely destroying something or someone in the distance.

His mouth fell open even wider as he had a flashback. He remembered his last hoofegg game, and how he’d lost because of a turd just like that one! And also he remembered his house, and his new puppy had been smushed flat beneath the steaming hoofegg-like shit. By the time he finished his flashback, the pink monster was gone. The entire process of recollection had taken his meager mind thirty whole minutes. But he was still angry!

Raising his head towards the heavens, he let out a cacophonous rawrXD from both ends before storming off through a nearby building, intent on stepping on this pink thing until he felt better.

Tinky Winky (or Stinky Wonky if you're my FUCKING autocorrect) and company were having the times of their lives running around and stomping the shit out of everything and everyone in sight on their search for Noo-Noo-worthy Hasbro Brand My Little Ponies. If you've never heard of those before allow me to give you a quick rundown.

Originating as "My Pretty Pony" in Nineteen Eighty-One, My Little Pony is a popular toy line and multimedia franchise propagated by Hasbro, inc.

The original run of My Little Pony was a series of toys and multiple animated series running from Nineteen Eighty-Two to Nineteen Ninety-Two. Ten whole years, gosh!

Five years later, Hasbro rebooted the toy line, and even crafted a virtual pet game. This iteration however was poorly received, and was discontinued in the US after two years.

The franchise was again revived in Two Thousand and Three, this time lasting six years, spawning multiple toy lines and animated movies.

In Two Thousand and Ten, the titular toy series was again rebooted, this time under the moniker Friendship is Magic. This generation caused a spike in popularity for the franchise, sparking a massive fanbase of Uhhh...people like you. It also happens to be the generation in which this story takes place. But I digress.

Tinky Winky was having a ball in Sugarcube Corner, having found a delightful assortment of sweet treats all sitting at tables eating cupcakes. He wished for a moment that his friends hadn't wandered off, but wishes aren't real.

"Uh wow, never seen customers like you before," marveled Mr.Cake as he gawked at these new guests, "well I'm certainly no racist. I changed my Horsebook profile picture to a striped square when that unhoofed zebra was gunned down in Whinnyapolis. What will your order be?"

Tinky Winky liked this pony's subservient attitude, but was doubtful that its body would be up to the task of any of his orders. Still, it would be poor sport not to give him the chance.

"Tubby Custard." He bellowed plainly, turning around and spreading his asscheeks, as if to say, "Garçon, one shit-eating, and make it snappy!"

Mr.Cake blushed, immediately understanding.

"G-gosh," he stuttered, "right in front of all these ponies as they're all eating?"

But deep in his heart he knew the customer was always right.

He craned his neck forward, cramming his head between the twin cheeks like he was diving into a pond. His lips puckered dutifully, cupping around Tinky's prolapsing anus, prompting the Teletubby to get to work.

Tinky Winky unleashed the stored up shit from his last hefty meal, unloading a mudslide of mustard-yellow goop. The eager maw of Mr.Cake accepted the payload with zeal, his tongue forming a crude trough that channeled the fecal clay down his throat.

The patrons of the restaurant-bakery all clapped and cheered, delighted at the prospect of having both a snack and a show. Even further spurred on by the enormous peer pressure, Mr. Cake increased his speed, guzzling goopy poopy at a rate that might give even a renowned shit-eater like Twilight Sparkle a run for her money.

For a moment, Tinky Winky thought this was just one of those skinny people who can eat a shitload of food. He thought he might have his new Noo-Noo to gift to Po.

Then he turned his head around one hundred and eighty degrees, and got a good look at Mr.Cake. Despite his efforts, Tinky Winky was sure the previous doubt that festered in his Teletubby brain would soon be proven true. Unlike his purple Noo-Noo, this poor, courageous applicant was clearly not capable of handling the masses of excrement he could expel. His little pony belly had expanded to multiple times its size, now causing his limbs to bulge to their sides as it lifted his body off the floor.

As his stomach burst from the weight of the shit, it released a huge mass of feces, as well as a dollop of stomach acid, into the body cavity of Mr.Cake and all over the rest of his organs. If he didn't get medical attention he was probably gonna get an infection, oh no! Despite the excruciating pain, the Cake patriarch continued, determined to satisfy his already-disappointed customer.

Tinky Winky admired the beast's stalwart nature in the face of futility, deciding to let it go out with a bang.

"Mis-ter Cake! Mis-ter Cake!" Chanted the other customers as they egged on the dying shit-eater.

Tinky Winky grunted, and unleashed a cute toot from his patooty, which proved to be the straw that broke the camel's back, or in this case, the fart that broke the pony's body cavity. I think that is a much better idiom that would have mass appeal.

With a thunderous 'boom' Mister Cake's body burst, much like his stomach had inside his own body not too long ago. The explosion coated everything within the blast radius(including but not limited to all the ponies, their food, and Tinky Winky) in skin, fur, assorted chunks of meat, and of course, tons of fucking shit.

Tinky Winky was a little annoyed, since if he wanted to be covered in shit he would just either shit on himself or have one of his friends do it. Still, for the effort it put forth, he felt the creature deserved the honorable death it had been given.

"Oh my stars!" Exclaimed a fat blue pony with a Yooper accent. Mrs.Cake surveyed the area before huffing indignantly, "This is just what he gets for bitin' off more than he can chew don'tcha know."

With that statement she swiftly scoured the entire area with her expert shit-eater, cleaning every inch of the bakery in moments. Once that was done, she walked right up to Tinky Winky without judging him at all for being purple or killing her fucking loving husband of sixteen years.

"Are you the unsatisfied customer, deary?"

Tinky Winky nodded, spreading his asshole again.

Like an expert pianist plays the keys, Mrs.Cake ate Tinky Winky's shit with the kind of skill that can only come from obsessive practice. Thanks to her heartier constitution, she was able to digest the vibrant blonde sludge at the rate she was swallowing it, building it up as dense double-shit in her own intestines. In minutes, she had sucked his asshole dry and licked it clean. Once she pulled her lips away from his purple pooper with a 'pop,' she opened her mouth to show everyone it was all gone, the only traces of her feast being the Dirty-Sanchez-like shit mustache on her upper lip. The crowd erupted in response, sending molten lava all over the place.

Tinky Winky was speechless. His only method of response was an incredibly simple one. He picked up the recently-widowed Mrs.Cake and shoved her into his red bag, which is bigger on the inside like a TARDIS(epic Whovian reference) so he could bring her home and Noo-Nooize her later. Of course, without their parents and with Pinkie lying crippled in the street, Pound and Pumpkin upstairs were surely doomed to starve.

Meanwhile…

Not too far away in an alley, Laa-laa and Po were getting into their own sort of fun. They’d trapped several ponies in a corner, forcing them to watch as they crushed their fellow townspeople and friends beneath their sweaty GIRL feet.

With rhythmic motions that sent a banging through the asphalt like the beat of a drum, the two of them giggled as they raised and lowered their potato-like stompers, guts and goo slipping between their toes with each step, lubricating them and leaving a film that would be eaten later by whatever Noo-noo Tinky Winky whipped up.
In actuality, they were just connoisseurs of the fine arts and were hoping to create a delicate Tubby Custard wine using these lousy creatures. Each stomp extracted more vital goo from its fleshy confines, staining the concrete and nearby ponies red. The two of them had produced such liquids many times before, but they were quite curious what terroir this small town would provide. Meanwhile, their tummy screens showed a birds-eye view of what was happening, giving the ponies the rare opportunity to witness their demise from multiple angles.

One of the ponies in the corner was a very important business horse all the way from Horsehattan who had come to inspect the poorly-maintained bank in this backwater town, only for these things to come out of nowhere and begin throwing a damper on his entire day! His name was Clark Bankhorse and he was the most boring combination of gray and brown you can imagine. Regardless, he was anything but boring! When he wasn’t auditing bank transfers for 18 hours a day, he was traveling to other banks across the country to do the same. His cutie mark is of a horse shoe, which is probably a metaphor for banking, but I’m not sure.

Yet here he was, trapped in a corner, unable to count things! His job, and by extension he, was very important! He was about to throw this injustice in his attackers’ faces, when another of the ponies nearby beat him to it.

“NOOOOOO! LET ME GOOOOO! ARAAAAAGH!” He raged, banging against the alley wall with his forelegs in a feeble attempt at escaping his ultimate doom. This pony was piss-yellow and tan with a rare birth defect shaped like a goldfish on his neck(which couldn’t be seen under his fur). He went by the name GoldSmasha31337xX_, but his real name was Wall Dinhorse and his cutie mark was a detailed picture taken from bird’s eye of himself and several others trapped in a corner where a vague yellow and red thing loomed just out of focus. This cutie mark was a metaphor for mining which is his profession and talent, hence the name, but seeing the video playing out on the Teletubbies’ tummy screens drove a terror into him unlike any he’d ever received.

Laa-laa and Po gave each other a knowing look and giggled even harder. “Ha-ha! Yaaaay!” Laa-laa responded, her voice sweeter than cherry pie in July.

“Tubby custard!” replied Po, clapping her mighty mitts and creating a thunderous ‘boom’, her voice not too sour and not too sweet, like Angry Orchard’s Hard Cider™.

A third pony who hadn’t made a word yet was Rice Witherspork, who sat motionless and breathless, eyes closed as though attempting to not be seen. She was white like rice, and also brown like rice, and had a cutie mark of a Spork (and probably rice, but it’s hard to tell considering her rice-colored fur). This calmness she displayed, however, was merely a facade, as she was just charging up. Suddenly springing to life, she dislodged her jaw and released all the oxygen she’d saved up for several minutes in a horrible, blood-curdling scream.

Once it was done, she took a few deep breaths and twisted her arm around to give herself a pat on the back. Screaming was her special talent, after all, which you should have been able to tell when I described her cutie mark.

The two ponies next to her immediately ceased up, their blood having curdled inside their veins, preventing movement. Wide-eyed, they could only watch as Laa-laa and Po affixed Rice Witherspork with a look that promised infinite pain. Below their feet, all their hard work was wasted as suddenly the Tubby Custard they were stomping curdled, creating a consistency of mashed taters and a smell like my scrotum after I stretched it over my anus for a full day to catch and reabsorb the farts back into my skin.

Po took one step forward, about to unleash not just a smackdown, but also a smackleft, smackright, smackup, and smackback(to reality). This, however, put her directly into the trajectory of a particular brown projectile which collided with her skull at such speed that her head bounced side-to-side like a spring doorstop. After a few seconds it came to a halt, and she reached up and carefully realigned her spine, only to notice shit all over her hands. It was all over the side of her head and face too, and in her eyes and ears. There were even a few poop bubbles floating around from where it had squeezed through her bubble-blower head diddly.

She looked back at Laa-laa, who responded with a half-hearted “Yaaaay!” and a cartwheel, making it quite apparent that she wasn’t the culprit. Looking around further, there was no one in the area but the brutalized remains of ponies. Then who dun it?!

Thankfully, Po had a built-in tool for divining this. Usually she just used it to find the identities of people who presented microaggressions online so she could doxx and or murder them, but this time was different as the aggression wasn’t micro at all. Focusing the vortex of rage that welled within, her tummy screen changed now to show a pink, naked rat man who was sucking cum off of a centipede.

Po and Laa-laa shared another look, instantly conveying their thoughts as they were the best of friends. They clasped hands, skipping angrily in the direction of the rat bastard. Mercifully, the alley ponies were spared their fate… For now… (This is foreskinshadowing, write this down!)