Kim Possible: A Sitch in Equestria

Twilight Sparkle was purple, and not in a good way. She sat, her moist rump on a pillow specially-shaped to fit the exact contours of her posterior. It was also purple. And not in a good way, either. Her posterior and the pillow both!

I might mention where it was that Twilight Sparkle sat, and indeed I will. She sat on the upstairs balcony of her tree library home. I'm aware that it was replaced with a crystal palace or something retarded at some point, but I never watched past the second season of the retarded show this crap is based off of, so forgive me if I'm not up to date on your pathetic pony lore. Before her was a comically-large telescope, which she had pointed directly at the sun.

As she stared into the focusing lens, concentrated sunlight penetrating her corneas and obliterating her cone cells, she was able to make out every misbegotten detail of the sun. No, this wasn't the sun, this was something else. She'd spent enough time staring intently at the star to know something was wrong.

In fact, one didn't need a telescope to see the issue. The sun had been replaced by a giant baby head that floated across the sky in it's normal orbit, giving off light and radiation the same as the fusion ball it had replaced. It giggled and gasped, a happy grin stuck on its chubby cheeks and its blue eyes stared blankly at the ground below, but Twilight in her hubris couldn't help but imagine it's gaze was locked purely on herself in a mocking sneer. Twilight pulled her face away from the lens, a sun burn encompassing the purple skin around her eye, dying it a dark red, and she scowled in the sun's general direction, grinding her teeth angrily.

"Something is wrong, I can feel it in my feet." She didn't even need the Great Emerald's power to allow her to feel that! How dare that THING occupy her wunderhorse's sky. It suddenly occurred to her that Princess Celestia is in charge of the sun, and a sudden change in its appearance might mean something is wrong. Either that or her teacher was just playing a practical joke. Either way, she was intent on getting to the bottom of it.

"Spiiiike!" Twilight screamed as she ran across her home, her hooves sliding against the glazed wooden floor which offered little traction. She was in a hurry, so when she got to the stairs she opted to simply swing herself bodily over the banister, falling 10 feet onto the library floor.

Thankfully, a group of school fillies(all unicorns) were in the main room looking through books for a school project, and their bodies made excellent pads to break her fall. As she stood up and dusted herself off, she turned and leveled a stern glare at the limp ponies. "Libraries closed. Can't you see this is an emergency? Get the heck out!"

She didn't wait for them and turned and rushed towards the basement. Hooking her little horn into the inverse-horn-shaped handle, she pried the door open, its lubed hinges barely making a sound. She rushed down the curving staircase, descending into her dungeon and miraculously not tripping. There, in the middle of the floor surrounded by his own detritus and shackled to the surrounding walls by multiple chains sat Spike, her lizard slave.

He barely seemed to register her approach, his eyes half-lidded and his head lolling to the side, and she was quick to reward his poor manners by cuffing him in the ear fin. He was already mostly deaf from frequent strikes of that manner, and his head fins were swollen and bruised.

"Normally I'd berate you for your insolence in not properly prostrating yourself in greetings at your mistress' arrival, but there's no time for that," she explained, crisp, refreshing, and not too sweet, much like an Angry Orchard hard cider.

Spike's mouth gaped and his eyes focused a bit as though finally noticing Twilight Sparkle as she magically levitated a quill and paper into his reptilian hooves, which he instinctively grabbed. For her part, his pony mistress had begun ranting, an action that she was quite fond of, though it came through as little more than a dull mumble, unintelligible over the ringing of his tinnitus. This went on for several minutes, and she waved her arms wildly, pacing around the room as she dictated a letter for him to write.

"...Signed, your ever faithful student, Twilight Sparkle." she finished, looking in Spike's direction for the first time since she'd started talking, "now send it."

A thin strand of drool ran down Spike's chin, his mind having dulled over as a years-long lack of food had left his brain in a near-vegetative state. Absorbing an absurd amount of light molecules all at once through her sun-damaged eyes, Twilight was able to see that Spike hadn't actually written anything. This became even more apparent as he dropped the pen and paper onto the floor in the growing puddle of drool below him. He leaned forward, the chains going taught as they caught his weight, preventing him from laying down.

Seeing the incompetence of her near-useless lizard slave, Twilight's jaw clenched as rage molecules marched through her blood stream. She rushed forward, cracking him in the cheek with a forearm before repeating the attack with her other forearm. She pounded on him like that for a good thirty seconds before she pulled back, breathing heavily. Spike was bleeding from a few gashes in his newly-bruised face, but his tough hide had prevented the worst of the damage.

He remained limp, and Twilight spat in his direction. "You'd better learn some manners before the next time I come down here, or else," she threatened as she teleported back up the stairs, too good to walk UP stairs. She flipped the light switch off on her way out, casting the basement room into pitch black.

She breathed heavily, venting heat as she made her way back into the main room. "It's hard to find good help..." she sighed to herself. "If I can't contact Celestia, how am I going to get to the bottom of this?"

She began pacing back and forth, thinking of where the new sun could have possibly come from, or how to find out, when she heard an ultra-deep voice outside her house. She stepped over the prone bodies of the school fillies and looked out the window, spotting Applejack with her latest stallion, Touch Down.

The pair were sitting in the middle of the road with a trough of half-melted ice cream on the ground between them. With efficiency and much gusto, they had their faces buried in the substance and were lapping it up like cats, their prehensile tongues scooping up spoon-fulls in quick succession.

As much as Twilight Sparkle hated associating with the common rabble, maybe some of them might know what was up with the sun. It was unlikely to be anything more than a total loss, but maybe with the power of magic... and possibly friendship... something might happen.

The acrid fumes of her halitosis did their best to cloud her judgement, but thanks to her generally repugnant hygiene she was noseblind to almost every odor on the nose spectrum, save for only the rarest, most ancient of stenches. She plodded toward her front door, her chipped, gunk-coated hooves emitting wet plops instead of dry plops. Wet plops like when you poop on the ground lol you're so disgusting omg.

Twilight applied her majestic horn to the inverted horn-handle of the front door. In truth this locking mechanism existed to keep non-unicorns out of her library, and away from any further education beyond the one the state foolishly wasted on providing them. It even rejected the horns of her freakish alicorn superiors, whom she'd grown a lasting resentment towards after realizing their redundancy. Any unicorn could fly by learning basic levitation magic, and any unicorn could sacrifice a small child to increase a corn yield. Any accessories like wings or size and strength were paltry evolutionary extras in her eyes. Wastes of calories, and therefore resources, and therefore worthless. This moment however, it merely served as a means by which Twilight Sparkle could go outside.

Once the door swung open Twilight was bathed in a glow of warm, pleasant sunlight that cascaded painfully along her body, sizzling her outermost layer of skin.

She hissed like my dead grandma's dead cat. I liked that cat and loved my grandma. F in the comments pleZe.

As she inched forward, Twilight mentally noted that sinking deeper into the ungodly burning sensation the sunlight provided felt the exact opposite of dipping into the cold indoor pool she had in the basement in the spa just past Spike's disgusting room. Inverses often bear similarities however, and Twilight knew the genitals part would be the worst. She covered her pale pussy, that, were she hairless, would have been a sickly white, practically see-through even. Like a baby gecko.

The sunlight failed to singe her asshole and vagina, so Twilight considered that to be pretty Win. Like totally Win dude. You Americans say that right?

THE LAVENDER UNICORN marched forward, towards one of the few denizens of this shit hole that could qualify as a main character, if just barely. Many stopped and waved cheerful greetings in Twilight's direction, this being the first time they'd seen her outside in months, but she paid them no heed, as her sun-battered eyes were laser focused on her weird orange friend and her big sexy boyfriend. Once she reached Applejack and Touch Down Twilight dropped to her forelimbs and panted as hard as she could. Despite her superiority complexes she was woefully unfit from inactivity, and she lacked any sweat glands to speak of, making her athletically laughable in comparison to the rippling-chested sweatmongers that now gazed confusedly in her direction.

"Say Applejack, this is a long shot given your lack of interest in the sky in general, stemming from the fact that your parents were hit by stray comets, but have you happened to stare at the sun at all recently?" she belched, unleashing a green cloud of noxious gas that seemingly defied physics as it failed to follow the path of her breath, and instead seeped down her chin on a billowing green stream.

As it rolled across the ground like the massive sideways fireball from Independence Day, the gas ate its way through the cell walls of the grass and small flowers that littered the ground around them, leaving them shriveled and browned.

"Ah can't say that ah have," gurgled Applejack rudely through a mouthful of delicious moose tracks, "in truth we been tryin' ta get over the death of a loved one. Poor Mr. Meeples was put out to pasture by a stray sky shit. Ah intend to get to the bottom of who dun shat the shit but right now what Touch needs is emotional support."

Twilight had barely been listening for the most part, her gaze having drifted to the gorgeous jizz-and-blood-caked sheathe dangling between Touch's legs. Twilight hated sports, but the little shit Scootaloo that sometimes snuck into the library with her race-traitor friend Sweetly Bells had been watching one of his games on her HV, and she knew of the chunky, 3-inch retard cock that lay in its depths.

What had piqued her interest was this stray shit. In truth she scoffed internally at the term. There was no such thing as a "stray shit," since every shit must be shat, and therefore has a shitter. But that was exactly why she even gave a fuck at all. Anyone powerful enough to shit so hard that they kill a puppy, would logically be more than powerful enough to turn the sun into a baby.

"A stray shit you say? That's mighty intriguing Applejack, I saw on HV that a hoofball-shaped shit cost your boyfriend the game, do you think it was the same shit?" asked Twilight, as though she cared about any further analysis stemming from a meathead EarthCuck.

"Ah reckon so, the shit crashed through his house, and it was goin' mighty fast when it shot through that goal from what ah hear. Ah was busy doin' apple related things as per one of my most defining character traits."

By the end of the schpiel Twilight had already stopped listening, but she heard the confirmation of her theory and as far as she was concerned that was enough. She left Applejack to mull about her worthless life and dashed off toward Touch's house.

Not knowing where in Equestria that could be since she isn't some desperate celebrity stalker, Twilight dashed instead towards the house of someone who was.

In an embarrassingly long amount of time Twilight managed to shamble all the way down to Sugarcube Corner. Her naturally inquisitive brain pondered if Applejack stole that thing where she calls people 'sugarcube' from SugarCube corner. It would be just like an Earth Pony to steal. Just like it's just like an Earth Pony to stalk.

That in mind, Twilight shambled forward and through the front door of the extremely fucking stupid looking bakery.

Inside, she approached the little counter at the front, behind which sat the thiccest mommy pony Mrs.Cake :ok_hand: :cold_sweat:.

Twilight walked straight past her, not sparing her so much as a glance. She made her way to the stairs, before looking at the bottom step, then scanning her eyes up the rest of the staircase, scoffing audibly.

Her horn flickered, and her own body rose off the ground while at the same time being enshrouded in dim purple light. She slowly floated her way up the staircase, insulted at the mere suggestion she walk UP a bunch of STAIRS. Twilight will literally never walk up stairs in this story, if she has previously Ethesto will edit that shit NOW.

She made her way into the hallway at the top, before dropping to the hardwood onto her hooves. Her fat tummy kept its momentum, and it stretched down and kissed the floor with a cute plop before snapping back into place, making the whipcrack sound from Johny Test. Quietly she slunk over to the bedroom door that she knew to be her stalker friend Pinkie Pie's.

She slowly pressed it open, peering in to see her friend at a nearby window gazing intently through a telescope in a manner similar to Twilight's own. Twilight noted however that while she used it for useful things like sungazing, Pinkie was busy foolishly concerning herself with each wretched resident of this squalid town.

"Mmm, I guess Make a Wish likes ribbon candy too, I'll have some as hors d'oeuvres at his funeral." she mumbled noncommittally while scribing everything she saw, her pen frantically scratching across the little clipboard in her lap.

Twilight, PURPLE as she was, let her pony lips twist upwards in a devilish sneer, revealing unwashed teeth thick with plaque and gums a whitish-pink with gingivitis. Her eyes, yellowed around the edges from her poorly-cared-for liver, narrowed and she silently snickered to herself as she caught sight of Pinkie Pie's puckered pink pecker. Pinkie clearly didn't know Twilight was here, and now she was going to play a totally EPIC prank.

She reached out with her magic, lightly tickling Pinkie Pie's pert posterior pie palace, immediately causing her body to cease up. Deeply ingrained in Pinkie's DNA as a reaction to sudden surprises, she released a sharp spray of liquid from a gland in her now-prolapsing puffy poop producer, painting the far wall, and Twilight's face, a dull yellow. The liquid was quick to oxidize, transmuting into a yellow miasma that filled every corner of the room and pushed out down the stairs and into the rest of the building through the ventilation. The sound of coughing, retching, tables being violently knocked over, and even glass shattering came from downstairs for a few short moments before stopping all too suddenly, a preternatural silence filling the building that just moments ago was full of life and joy.

As the gas thinned, Pinkie Pie looked abashed, having turned to see what had caused her glans to fire, only to see the smirking face of Twilight Sparkle, the last pony she expected to come all the way here to prank her. Thankfully, being as noseblind as she is, Twilight hardly noticed a thing, or the direct exposure to Pinkie Pie's stinkfume would have undoubtedly killed her.

Seeing the look on Pinkie's face, Twilight couldn't help but laugh out loud at the dirty mud pony's misfortune. Unicorns would never be surprised so easily, and moreover they'd never spray noxious gas out of their butts.

Pinkie Pie's face turned red with embarrassment, "Twilight, that was rude."

"Haha, you're a fucking idiot," Twilight guffawed, scraping a glob of gelatin-like eye juice from the corner of her eye disk with one hoof, having been reduced to tears during her brief but harsh laughter. "Classic Pinkie Pie."

"Well, I do like making ponies laugh," Pinkie Pie admitted, somehow growing okay with the current turn of events. "I just hope the cakes and the babies got their gas masks on in time."

Twilight wasn't listening, though. She wasn't here for small talk, and she proved that point immediately thereafter, "Where is Touch Down's house?"

Pinkie Pie knew exactly where that was as she liked to sneak out there in the dead of night and masturbate outside his window. "It's though the town, across the bridge, and over the big red hill," Pinkie Pie explained, but Twilight wasn't happy with that answer and returned an irritated scowl.

"I don't intend to waste my time walking there," she explained though grit teeth, "show me where it is."

"Ohhh, like an adventure?!" Pinkie Pie squealed, in text still smaller by comparison to Twilight's own. "I'll lead the way!" She started running towards the door excitedly, only to stop in her tracks as a purple magical aura clothes-lined her. She blinked her eyes open a few seconds later, the world spinning as Twilight looked at her from above, barely-suppressed anger on her face.

"I don't intend to walk, you miserable mud blood. As much as it sickens me to even touch you, you're going to carry me," she explained bigly.

Pinkie Pie stood up shakily and stumbled over to her dresser, pulling out a frilly saddle that was normally reserved for trying to slut herself out at parties. She put it on, covering the large bruise on her spine, and returned to Twilight, who was quick to magically shove a bit into her mouth before tightening a bridle around her face. She magically lifted herself onto Pinkie's back, as dirt horses are no better than flights of stairs, and kicked her stirrups into Pinkie's haunches, spurring her to run.

It was the best of time. It was the worst of time. But most importantly, it was time for teletubbies. As the baby head sun emerged over the horizon that morning, squealing and giggling in a way uncharacteristic of a sun, it cast light onto an opening in the dark forest. In this clearing, starkly more colorful than the surrounding woods, was a grassy hill, bright flowers dotting its base. If one were to look carefully, they'd notice that the hill also had large, round windows and a massive wind wheel. Probably Bilbo Baghand's vacation home. Can I get a like from all you LOTR fans out there? Dislike/ignore if you're fine with Saruman and Sephiroth ruling Middle Earth with their orc armies(Yeah, like that'd ever happen xD)!

As the sun rose in the sky, suddenly there was a farting sound as a half dozen brass tubes rose several feet out of the ground. They stopped, opting instead to emit the voice of a Brittish Wanker from their ends. "Time for teletubbies. Time for teletubbies. Time for teletubbies," the Voice Trumpets repeated.

A hole opened in the top of the hill, and after a few moments several bulbous, brightly-colored humanoids emerged, each being introduced by the Voice Trumpets. "Tinky Winky!" they said, as the massive purple beast hopped out, towering an impressive 8 feet tall with its intimidating triangular head diddly.

"Dipsy," they narrated, introducing a green, shorter creature. It began dancing, its dummy-thicc thighs clapping together as its head diddly stood fully erect.

"Laa-Laa," they introduced the next, an absolute unit, yellow aside from its face and its tummy screen, its head diddly was curled like a dipstick, likely in some unspeakable accident. Even with the curve, it had both impressive girth and length.

"Po," they finished, however no other creatures emerged. The other three looked around, clearly confused.

"Where is Po?" the trumpets questioned...

Meanwhile, inside the hollow hill, was the futuristic suite of these strange creatures. At one end of the room, wrapped in a tinfoil blanket, a short, red creature slept, blissfully unaware of the brass tubes outside that beckoned her. Nearby, with an audible succing sound as it consumed small particles of dust and detritus which rattled against its filter, a cylindrical blue thing exhumed filth from the floor and furniture. Its red eyes were wide, crazed from a near-eternity damned to vacuum this space and it flipped its trunk/hose this way and that, rubbing it against surfaces to subsume what waste it could like the pathetic bottom-feeder that it is.

As Noo-noo, as that's the being's name, went around the room, he spotted some empty beds, eager to consumed the parasites, shed skin, and sweat the bed's owners had left. He swept his trunk over the beds, a crisp crackling sound coming from his body as he inhaled large chunks of discarded dead skin. After he was sure he had gleaned every speck of loose matter, he moved on to the next bed. His trunk landed on a damp spot, the sheets heavily yellowed, and he slurped up any remaining liquid from Laa-Laa's bed before searching the edges for scraps of discarded hair.

With efficiency from millennia of performing this menial task, within moments he had done what a vacuum could, and moved on to the next bed. The mattress was recessed from the sheer weight of its normal occupant, and Noo-noo immediately stuck his trunk to the bottom of the inward curve, suckling the sweet, dried flakes of shit that Dipsy released in his sleep. Finally, he moved on to the fourth and final bed, this one still inhabited by the red creature. Under the blanket, she snored heavily, the screen on her tummy showing images of her dream; twisted horrors and abominable torture, a realm slick with blood and decayed by the psychic projectiles of countless soul's anguish. Even so, she slept soundly, the epicanthic folds of her eyes shut lightly, a thin stream of brownish drool pooling in her mouth and dripping down her chin and cheek as she occasionally rolled.

Noo-noo's red eyes, so full of hatred, locked onto the red one, however the programming of his body compelled him forward nonetheless, and he stuck his trunk under the covers, soon finding what the cursed body was prompting him to seek. Inside a concealed flap lay Po's cloaca, the open ring revealing a dark path into Po's innards. Noo-noo's eyes darted around the room, frantic for a way out as his trunk pressed against the opening and began to succ. A liquid not unlike bloody diarrhea mixed with amniotic fluid gushed from the recess and was slurped up by his trunk with a sound like succling the last bits of a milkshake from the bottom of the cup.

His pupils thinned to pinpricks as he was forced to consume the fowl substance not for the first time, and while he had the urge to vomit, his body did not- could not. And so he kept succing, trapped in this hellish cycle for eternity. If he had a mouth, he'd scream.

For her part, Po smiled in her sleep, and her body reflexively strained, voiding her bowels into Noo-noo's trunk, also feeding him plenty of farts. After a few minutes, there was a crinkling like when you suck the last bits of juice from a Capri Sun, and Po's body had noticeably diminished in girth. Too disturbed to even be thankful, Noo-noo pulled away, seeking other dank places to leach from.

Po's tummy screen suddenly turned to static as she awoke, and she groggily lifted her head, feeling absolutely famished. She turned and looked at the live studio audience (You). "Tubby Custard," she expressed, thankful for your understanding in the matter. With a practiced flick of her muscle-bulging wrist, she tossed the tinfoil blanket across the room like a square frisbee. It whirled through the the air for but a moment before one corner embedded itself in the far wall and the rest of it fell limper than your tiny weiner.

"Tubby Custard," she repeated, aghast that you blathering neanderthals didn't get it the first time. Finally, she explained for a third time while rising from the bed, adding inflection and emphasizing her words with a brilliant arm flourish. "Tubby Custard." If you didn't get it that time, I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry...

Leaning forward, Po somersaulted out of bed, landing in the middle of the room with an audible 'clank' as he potato-esque feet made contact with the metal floor grating. She sauntered over to the other end of the room where a large rectangular plinth extended from the floor and pointed, realizing that many of you our there in the live studio audience are about as smart as a bag of pointedly not-smart rocks. "Tubby Custard."

She went over to the object and began hitting buttons causing several parts to extend from its top. A small conveyor brought out a bowl and with a few practiced motions a nozzle began spurting an orange liquid in great soppy globs, drips of the glue-like substance gushing out over the lip of the bowl and splattering across the counter. After a few moments, Po's patience had run out and she grabbed the bowl, rushing towards a nearby table. She moved to one of the stools arranged around its ringed exterior and folded herself at the middle, fitting almost perfectly into the seat. If her body mass hadn't been diminished by Noo-noo's ravenous appetite, her thighs would have swallowed the seat like groceries. Or perhaps like Tubby Custard...

Moistening her lips with a calloused tongue that bled from a dozen festering canker sores, she leaned forward and put her mouth over a straw extending from the bowl. With a practiced movement, Po rapidly expanded her stomach, swallowing a large amount of air and suctioning the thick orange goo through the curved straw and into her mouth. She consumed the Tubby Custard with gusto, and in less time than it takes you to read this sentence, she had finished consuming the whole thing.

Po's body was looking bloated, the air she'd swallowed inflating her intestines like a twisted balloon animal. She leaned to one side and released it as a long, drawn out bout of flatulence, no where near as caustic or disease-ridden as the ones she'd released into Noo-noo earlier- Those had had time to fester- but rancid enough to curdle milk or mutate turtles. After a few long moments, she sighed in relief before looking back at You. "Tubby Custard," she reiterated, flopping out of the seat and rolling to the machine.

She was quick to get seconds, which she ingested with as much fervor as the first helping, which then turned to thirds, and fourths, and finally a fifth bowl. By this point she was looking about as plump as usual. Digging the stool out of her saggy ass, she stood and moved to the center of the room. A circle of sunlight shone through the ceiling from a skylight about 20 feet above. With a quick flex of her thighs, she rocketed her 250 lb body up through the gap, landing next to the other three of her kind, who had been waiting nearly three hours for her to emerge.

They cheered and clapped their hands, ready to begin the day.

Rufus had left the tomb in short time and was wandering his way through the forest, though the thick vegetation was doing its best to stop him. Regardless, he pressed on towards the horizon. With each step, his testicles clacked together behind him like a perpetual motion toy one would have on a desk in their office, held only inches from the ground in a scrote cradle so wrinkly it makes your grandma look like a grand-Na (As in "Na dawg, not nearly wrinkly enough for me").

There was a tickling sensation as Ots'ethe emerged from between a few wrinkles on his neck, whispering sensually into his exposed ear hole. "Where are we going?"

Rufus ear hole rang for a moment before echoing back an answer, "To that smoke I saw on the horizon. Smoke means fire, which probably means civilization. And you know what civilizations have access to? Vaginas."

The centipede nodded in understanding, as that logic was flawless, but he did have another question, "Why don't you just fly?"

Rufus sighed, aghast that he had to explain aerophysics to a centipede of all things. "Flying takes a lot of effort and I need space to take off. What's more, there's wind currents that make it far more difficult. I was able to fly easily enough underground as the air was so thick with dust I could have probably climbed back to the surface. With that said, I think I'll stick to gliding, and I need open space for that."

The centipede nodded in understanding, as the logic was flawless, but he did have another question, "What's that thing?" Being prompted to look at 'that thing', Rufus squinted his eyes, zooming in to x2.

Before them was a clearing in the woods, brightly-colored fauna showing through that surrounded a great green hill. "Well I'll be a canned ham if that doesn't look like a hill to me," Rufus said with a shrug, nearly throwing Ots'ethe from his body to which he grimaced in embarrassment.

"More of a mound if you ask me, but that's beside the point. What is a hill of all things doing in a place like this?" This prompted Rufus to look around, and he realized for the first time that he hasn't seen a single hill this entire story. (Edit this to be true Ethesto).

"So what, you think it's dangerous?" Rufus questioned, looking at the 'mound' in a new light. The light from the sun to be exact.

"It's not a matter of 'is it dangerous'," the centipede explained, "It's a matter of 'how dangerous?'"

Rufus aint no coward, and he aint no pushover neither, but that's not to say he has a whole lot going for him in a fight. If push comes to shove he can definitely kick some ass, but he's not some reincarnated human in one of so many thousands of repugnant fanfictions on this website who's super strong because the author couldn't recognize good writing if it jumped up and bit them on the tip of their fucking dick.

"Good thing I have you then," Rufus said with a sigh, happy he had a super centipede that could project PURE lasers as a projectile weapon.

"Oh no, I'm basically useless," Ots'ethe admitted. "I used up the energon I'd stored for hundreds of years to project those lasers. That pretty light show wasn't easy, you know? Unless I'm in a vagina I hardly generate any energon."

Rufus' gasped, his mouth gaping and an innocent bumble bee, endangered due to pesticides and climate change, on her way back to the hive to pollinate her starving children flew into the gap, immediately dissolving in his saliva. "Well that's a heck and a half. Now we're gonna die out here!" He screamed.

"Not necessarily," the centipede said as he began to glow, "I think I have enough energon to summon a mystical artifact that will undoubtedly help in your travels." He shone with light, not like a laser, but cool anyway. After a few moments the light dissipated to reveal a small, white tube.

Rufus extended his hand and took the item, sizing it up with a cursory examination. "It's trash," he said, clearly confused.

"Yes, but not just any trash. That's a skinless skin-flute. The Ancient Vagyptians were both the inventors and masters of the skin-flute, and played them with skill not seen since their disappearance. In your hands you hold a skinless skin-flute, like a normal skin-flute, but just the bone. No way would I jump a beginner straight to a normal skin-flute, so this should be right up your alley," the centipede explained in a scholarly tone.

"Excellent," Rufus said, genuinely happy for the gift. "I've been needing a new butt plug." He was about to insert it right up his alley as his companion instructed when Ots'ethe gave him the centipede version of a scowl.

"No you leaf-loving buffoon, you blow on it. While playing it, you have the power to control skeletons. It's a very powerful, very dangerous creation. I wouldn't trust any non Ancient Vagyptian with one. Anyone but you."

Rufus put on his round glasses, taking on the guise of an intellectual as he pondered for a moment. "Well shit, you should have given this to me when we were at the pyramid. The entrance to that place was crawling with skeletons." Rufus turned, about to head back there, when the centipede stopped him.

"Those were half-skeletons. The flute only controls skeletons."

Rufus was nonplussed, meaning if you were to search the labyrinthine folds of his flabby pink skin, you'd find not a single plus. Not sure why you would do that though you disgusting freak.

"Speaking of You," Rufus began, shifting his focus from the ominously lush and pleasant field in front of him, to You, the studio audience, "where did all these grotesque goblins lurch forth from?"

"I've been alive for centuries and nothing this offensive has ever dared fall into my gaze," gawked the centipede as it glowered at your unbrushed teeth.

One of You stepped forward.

"Hey, I'm Jacob," stated the slovenly creature, arrogantly assuming it warranted labeling beyond 'that thing' or 'that loser.' Its shape was practically spherical, with mere facsimiles of limbs nubbing out at the sides bottoms and top, resembling what would be arms, legs, and a head on a proper human. Rufus guessed it was mammalian in nature, based on the matted leg hair that carpeted each appendage. It was so hairy it made your grandpa look grand-PA-thetic by comparison.

"Can I call you Jake?" inquired Rufus.

"I'd be offended if you didn't." replied the studio audience member.

"Well Jacob would you mind explaining who the fuck all of You are and where You came from?"

"I JUST told you I wanted you to call me JAKE!" screamed Jacob the crybaby as,true to his word, he became possessed by an inhuman (or subhuman in Jacob's case) rage. He rolled forward at Rufus with murderous intent.

Rufus quickly pressed B to roll out of the way just like in Dark Souls, expertly dodging the living boulder because he's so fucking excellent at video games. That said, Dark Souls is just a rip-off of Bolt for the Xbox 360.

The mega-meatball careened past the mole rat, crushing the grass beneath it as it tumbled forward at impressive speed, before splattering hard against the tree.

It seemed the creature had a composition resembling our asthenosphere, as once the outer layers of skin, hair, and clothes split, a gargantuan mass of highly viscous liquid burst forth, spilling everywhere. One could scarcely call it a liquid, in truth, as the texture was of something that warped and oozed in a manner similar to hot taffy. Fascinatingly, beneath the skin and roiling mass was a very pathetic-looking skeleton.

"I hope the rest of You aren't as horrible as Jacob," pleaded Rufus, but unfortunately for him You are.

Perhaps fortunately for him, or perhaps much more likely not, a loud sound cut through the air not unlike an X-actoBlade slicing through the wrist of a 14 year old girl.

"IT'S FEEDING TIME FOR TELETUBBIES!"

Instantaneously, a soft rumbling overtook any possible silence that could follow, and it built to one that shook the trees, causing leaves to sprinkle delicately to the ground, their peaceful drift a stark contrast to the ground-rattling that caused them to fall.

You, as a group, looked around confusedly, before horrifying realization swept over one of You all too late. Something had You, something strong. You truffles to pry yourself free from its vice-like clutches, but it was all for naught.

Tinky-Winky giggled a deep, horrifying giggle that sounded like the giggle from FNAF. The screaming audience member in his grasp was completely subject to his whim, and so he expressed his wishes to You as he gazed malevolently at your spherical figure.

"Tubby custard," he bellowed, his voice being at the same volume and pitch as the horn of a colossal ship. This time You understood, albeit far too late. Before, when You had cheered for Po, you had been cheering your own demise. Now your cheers were screams.

Tinky Winky ripped his paws into your flesh, sinking his mouth into the resulting hole and slurping your tubby custard innards with his proboscis-like tongue.

The other audience members rolled round frantically as the remaining cast of Teletubbies skipped after them,crying "tubby custard" every few seconds.

Dipsy made short work of any prey she(?) desired, her head-dildo functioning perfectly as a spear, with which she impaled her targets, causing their innards to spill out like syrup from a maple tree. She happily lapped up the viscera with gusto, adding their mass to her own.

By contrast, La-la had a very difficult time impaling her prey, her short corkscrew horn was woefully ineffective. She couldn't make up for it with sheer size like Tinky Winky, nor did she posses the bone-crushing strength of Po. As a result, she was by far the frailest of the ensemble. Still, compared to You she was an apex being, and she certainly killed and ate enough to get by.

Finally, there was Po, who merely grabbed at anything that drew near and ripped it open without much grace. He was easily the second fattest relative to his height, and he earned this stature through an endless onslaught of your deaths, none of which he regrets, if he's capable of regret.As they gorged themselves, the screens on their tummies, otherwise known as TeletummiesTM flashed on, displaying fragmented clips of your memories, which is to say, a bunch of footage of You sitting on the couch.

Soon enough, the Teletubbies had slaughtered the lot of You and slurped up your goo. You hadn't even put up a fight, wuss. If a Teletubby tried to kill me I'd punch it in the face.

Rufus gawked, shocked, impressed, and a little horny. He was a big fan of swallowing things whole, but there was a certain beauty to watching something get brutally torn apart. Even better, they'd killed You, his least favorite group of people of the past several minutes. His arousal immediately subsided however, when the group of weird fucking plush alien things gazed at him, still just as hungry as when they'd started the frenzy.

Pinkie plopped onto the dirt, utterly exhausted. The weighty payload atop her back fell with her, aggressively pressing into her spine and popping a few vertebrae. It also pressed her bowels, forcing a toot out of her butthole.

The weight in question was, of course, Twilight, who, as slowly as possible, lifted her hefty frame off of her friend.

"I suppose you did an adequate job of lugging me here," spat Twilight, brushing herself off despite not having gotten a speck of new dirt on her for the entire trip. She then turned to the steaming wreckage of Touch Down's home that he apparently bought and looks after despite being too retarded to properly speak or eat #plothole.

It was a wreck, but no shit. Actually, there was quite a lot of shit, most of it being in the center of the disaster, resting in a puddle of what little gored bits of Meeples that Touch hadn't ran off screaming with.

Twilight used her magic to scoop off excess hair and partially-coagulated blood from the shit, not wanting to get herself dirty, before plunging her horn into it and lifting it off the ground. She then floated herself once again, up to her perch atop Pinkie's delicate spine.

"Mush, you cringelord," screeched the magical Pony to her less magical friend. Twilight's heft, plus the weight of the shit, left poor Pinkie Pie positively exhausted. Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to a standing position, but she certainly couldn't let down her best friend Twilight. So she crawled with every ounce of strength she could muster, scraping herself across the cobblestone streets, first rubbing off her hair, then her skin.

She continued this for hours, the thick paste of her blood, skin, and muscle marking her route as she went. This persisted until they reached Twilight's trademark library, by which point Pinkie's raw hip bone had been ground to the marrow. Twilight hopped off her friend, then opened her big ol doorerino.

"I'd give you some tap water but-" then Twilight closed the door to her home, not even finishing making an excuse for not inviting Pinkie inside.

She trudged with the shit on her horn towards a door at the far end of her main library chamber, but before she reached it something else caught her eye.

"Ooh mama's caught a big boy," she cooed as she gazed at the carcass of a dead rat, lodged distastefully beneath the metal arm of a spring-activated rat trap akin to the ones from Tom&Jerry.

Instead of using her magic, for no reason aside from personal pleasure Twilight unhooked the trap with her hooves, then gripped the dead rodent in her teeth, taking care to lick at its fur.

She carried it over to her basement door, which she had to take the shit off her head to open because of her stupid horn handle system. Once she'd opened it she carelessly spat it down the dark stairway for Spike to devour if he still possessed the will to sustain himself with food.

Once that was through Twilight slammed the door shut and repicked the massive shit up, before walking to the door she'd previously been headed toward and stepped into the room that it guarded.

Inside the room lay practically bare, save for a changing station, in which Twilight carefully placed the enormous shit. She stared down at it for a moment, before plunging into it headfirst.

Her forehead bounced off with a louder-than-expected 'thwack' leaving a dent which had cracks through which seeped a brownish green liquid. Twilight sucked this liquid into her mouth and swallowed greedily before headbutting the shit once again.

While it was a trivial task for her horn to penetrate the shit, the increased surface area of her forehead made it more difficult to bust the turd open in this way.

Eventually however, the turd gave, and Twilight breached its outer shell and sunk into the mushy depths of the colossal crap.

She bit around blindly for awhile, mashing the shit through the gaps in her teeth with her tongue, before she started to swallow.

Once she'd half drained the shit-shell she withdrew her head and pondered for a moment.

"This isn't any shit like I've ever eaten," she explained to nobody in particular. Certainly not You, You were just killed, "not just the taste, but the smell. The fact that I can smell this at all is very unusual. Plus based on the trajectory from Touch's house, as well as the hoofball game, this could only have flown from around the edge of the Everfree Forest."

Twilight gasped, before mashing her head back into the shit, really working it into her hair. That made perfect sense to her. Plot-related things were always happening there. The gasp wasn't from surprise, she just wanted to breathe as much of the air from the shit as she could. It was intoxicating.

Her personal happy time ended abruptly, as, in a burst of light, the biggest Pony in Equestria, with the biggest horn, the Boss Pony, materialized in the room.

"Ah, Princess Celestia," mumbled Twilight through a mouthful of shit, "why in the flippin heck are you here?"

Twilight envied Celestia, despite her beliefs that alicorns were of a lesser, albeit objectively superior breed. Her incredible size made her the strongest and coolest person in Equestria. Twilight's own rotund figure placed her high on the pony picked a peck of pickled pecking order, but compared to Celestia she was as insignificant as any other.

"Well I got this blank piece of parchment, so I assume your lizard ate a rat and burped on it, did you attempt to contact me?" inquired Celestia, before her eyes drifted towards the large shit in Twilight's changing station, "and while you answer me do you mind if I also swish my head around in some of that shit?"

Twilight's heart lurched, and not just because it was clogged and enlarged.

Damn it! she thought to herself, curse your insipid existence! I'd rather die a thousand painful deaths than share a speck of that delicious, unique shit.

"But of course Princess," she choked out through grit teeth, through which oozed words that echoed the exact opposite of her sentiments.

Immediately Celestia dove into the shit, her big stupid horn impaling the wall to which the carrying station was attached. She had her own oral/fecal ministrations. While Twilight enjoyed biting around at the excrement like a lion stripping meat from a carcass, Celestia preferred to suck the shit and store it in her cheeks, before withdrawing her head from the shot husk and spitting poop around in a sprinkler motion. She continued this throughout Twilight's explanation.

"I was staring directly into the sun, as I often do, because while I hate stairs, I really enjoy stares, and I noticed that it had a big creepy fucking face and was laughing what's up with that Sun Lady?"

Celestia momentarily stopped spitting feces everywhere and turned to her bratty student. Streaks of brown danced elegantly across her ever-flowing mane as she spoke.

"In truth, I seem to have lost control of the sun, I tried getting Luna to help but you know she's just...ugh. The stupidest fucking most useless idiot in the galaxy."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, I got your piece of paper and I thought, 'hey Twilight's a sciencologist, maybe she could help."

Twilight's eyes lit up. This was her chance! An opportunity to strike Celestia down and usurp her.

"Actually I have a theory, but-"

"It's my butt isn't it?" interjected Celestia, "You need to look inside my ass, where you'll have full access to my rectal cavity: the weakest part of an alicorn's body."

Twilight was floored, she'd already been had.

"Okay, but only because I trust you, my faithful student."

With that, Celestia turned and raised her tail, before reaching back with her front hooves and spreading her asshole like goatse.

Inside, Twilight saw what she considered to be proof of alicorn inferiority: a pile of tiny deer shits that came with having such a vulnerable colon, collecting dust like a bag of mothballs. However, she also saw something that complicated her plans just a bit.

"That's a fucking time bomb!"

Pegasus Character panted heavily, a trail of blood stretching behind him for miles staining the clouds red as he’d crawled on his belly like a worm. Ironic for a half-bird like himself, but he ignored his pride for the sake of cold, calculated revengeance.

“I must reach… A main… Character,” he gasped out between breaths as he made his way towards the only one with a unique enough color scheme to be important, Rainbow Dash. Before him, stood her cloud mansion, stretching imposingly tall yet made entirely of one material like the house of a shitty Minecraft player.

“I have arrived!” he exclaimed, overcome with relief and glad he’d made it. He really wasn’t sure how much blood was in his body, and he’d clearly lost hella loads. He was looking more scrunched up than a tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it, or perhaps like an empty capri sun for those of you offended by cum.

However, it was at this point that he’d realized his situation and all of the relief he’d accumulated was released back into the atmosphere. Over 50 feet above him, Rainbow Dash’s cloud mansion hung imposingly above the rest of the town on its own cloud plateau. She was clearly too important to have a house with the rest of the common rabble, and now her importance would be Pegasus Character’s downfall.

“No… It’s not fair,” he sobbed, his eyes scrunching up like a tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it, or perhaps like an accordion for those of you offended by cum, voiding its liquid insides as heavily-salted tears that dropped from his face and added to the pool of rainwater that composed the cloud he stood on, about half of which was piss and shit from the ponies that lived on it. “If only I was a more important character… I’ve failed. If but my wings were functional I could succeed this challenge and be a hero. Maybe then I’d be important enough to have a name...”

“But you are important,” said a voice from behind. Pegasus Character turned so fast he’d likely suffer neck pains from the whiplash for the rest of his life, expecting to see Rainbow Dash, ready to cheer him up(and maybe do lewd things too ;) ), but all that he saw was a tiny pony sprite. She spun care free in the air on rainbow wings, dancing in the breeze and oozing large globules of pixie dust.

“You’re the main character in your own story, and I think you’re wonderful,” she continued, “You’re fine just the way you are and you shouldn’t let anyone tell you to change.”

Pegasus Character stared at her for a few moments, before reaching forward and biting her in half. Blood dribbled down his chin as he chewed her grizzled remains between his flat, herbivore teeth, before swallowing.

“Aw, fresh meat,” he exclaimed, already feeling his wings healing from the healthy dose of pixie dust he’d just consumed. His neck turned back with equal speed to last time, undoing the whiplash and negating my previous statement about permanent damage as he gazed on his wonderful wings. “Praise Allah, my wings are fixed!”

He gave them some test flaps, happy to see that they functioned perhaps even better than they did previously, before turning back to his task at hoof (HAHA get it?). Flapping his wings like one of those things that flaps- you know the ones- he was at Rainbow Dash’s front porch in moments.

He landed at her front door, and was about to knock, when he stopped. “Wait, I’ve never even met Rainbow Dash before, much less an important character,” he said, exacerbating his creepy habit of talking to himself. “Gee golly I hope I don’t smell bad.”

“Hey, Rainbow Dash, what’s up? Names Pegasus Character… Well it’s not like that’s actually my name really… No that’s lame,” he mumbled to himself. “Hey Rainbow, big fan, wanna 96? No, that’s way too forward… Damn this is hard!” Pegasus Character was horribly out of practice talking to females. In fact, the only girl who’d ever talked to him he’d ended up biting in half.

He sat there for over an hour, deliberating on what to say when he knocked, when he realized he didn’t even need to knock. The walls and doors were made of clouds. Since his legs were next to useless, he sat down on his bloody, raw belly and stretched his wings around, scooping large swathes of cloud wall away and tossing it over his shoulder until he’d made a pony-sized hole.

“Time to get laid,” he proclaimed, slicking his hair back with a wing before flying through the gap and into a massive open chamber. There was absolutely no decoration of any type in the massive cloud cavity of Rainbow’s house. She’d clearly spent all her time and effort making it large, and done nothing about the insides. Also, it’s not like you can have furniture on a cloud. That would be fucking retarded.

With his evolved pegasus eyes, Pegasus Character was able to spot Rainbow Dash, sleeping on a pile of clouds in the middle of the room. As he moved closer, though, he realized that she was completely naked! She was lying on her back, a line of drool running down her cheek, across her belly, and into her gaping horse pussy.

Pegasus Character’s little willy stabbed painfully into his stomach as it grew to an impressive one and a half inches long, threatening to burst from his sheath. “Yowie Wowie,” he exclaimed, instantly waking Rainbow Dash, who stood up and looked at him.

“A pathetic background character, in my house?”(It’s more likely than you might think.) Rainbow sneered, the drool reversing stream from her vagina back to her mouth and pooling on her tongue, which she promptly spat across the room directly onto his face.

Thankful for the liquid, Pegasus Character inhaled, sucking it up. “Rainbow, I-” he started, taking a step forward.

“Oh, you’re approaching me?” Rainbow Dash guffawed while standing on her back legs, Jo Jo posing. “Take one more step and I’ll rainbow dash up your urethra at the speed of sound and perform a sonic rainboom inside of you,” she threatened.

"There's at least a twenty percent (cooler) chance of me enjoying that." Retorted Pegasus Character, doubting she could even pull off such a stunt.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” she admitted.

“Enough prattling,” he yelled, “I’m here for a very important reason.” This sudden dominant side of Pegasus Character was, dare I say, 20% cooler, and Rainbow Dash’s heart skipped a beat (likely due to steroid abuse that had led to various heart problems, including, but not limited to, heart palpitations), and she also blushed.

“Well duh, I’m super important, so the only reason you’d be here is for an important reason,” she flapped her eyelashes seductively, but Pegasus Character’s wee-wee had already gone flaccid now that he couldn’t see her sagging vaginal folds.

“A great evil hath come to Equestria, and it’s our job to stop it!” he informed her.

“By Allah, a great evil… In all my years…” Rainbow Dash gasped.

“And it gets worse still,” he continued, “the evil creature is some kind of large, furless skin monster.” Rainbow Dash frowned, her face scrunching up like a tissue after I’ve finished cumming into it, or perhaps like a deflated balloon for those of you offended by cum, as the very notion of a furless creature was an affront to the readers who are clearly all furries considering where they are and what they’re reading.

“I swear I’ll kill it with my own hooves!” she swore, swearingly.

“Oh yeah, also on my way here I rounded up a flock of other like-minded pegasi.” He turned and laid on his back in a clear sign of submission, presenting his vulnerable belly that had been rubbed raw on his journey as a dozen other ponies entered his hole and gathered around.

“So where is this monstrosity?” Rainbow Dash questioned, and one of the ponies in the front row put her hand up.

Waiting until she was acknowledged, the pony then informed everyone. “He’s in the Everfree forest below us. It would take like 15 seconds to fly there,” she explained.

Rainbow Dash immediately voided her bowels, a gesture that helped propel her forward while also reducing her overall mass, allowing her to accelerate out of the house, punching a hole in the cloud wall and zooming towards the creature she easily spotted with her eagle-like vision. Needless to say, it took her at least 20% less than 15 seconds.

“TUBBY CUSTARD!” bellowed Tinky Winky in a deep, eardrum-quaking tone as he and his compatriots lurched after Rufus with as much speed as they could muster.

Rufus, in turn, was running for his life, something he felt great shame for. He was a spy, and a hyper intelligent apex predator, not some prey to be devoured like he had devoured those rabbits and that hamb(not ham). His little legs were feeling a little sore too, the poor dear had been running all dagnab day, and he was getting plumb tuckered.

In contrast, the Teletubbies couldn’t have been more well-rested, having just awoken from a multi-millennial power nap.

Still, their stubby little midget legs, and the colossal weight of the You that they’d gorged themselves upon kept them slow enough that Rufus could just barely outpace their footfalls with his own. The dull rumble of the ground and static hiss of their tummy screens only a dozen steps behind kept him spurred on despite his growing fatigue, however.

“Are you absolutely positive you’ve got no energon left?” Panted the mole rat to his centipede pal.

“Not a damn drop.” replied Ots’ethe emphatically, “unless you’d like to try and steal one of their vaginas.”

Rufus wasn’t one for suicide missions, but he also wasn’t one for dying in non-suicide related incidents. Dying in general really- Rufus didn’t care for it. That said, the Teletubbies weren’t giving him much choice, what with their seemingly endless hunger and drive to consume or destroy any creatures that moved. He’d have to engineer some kind of escape plan.

“Think...think...think…” Rufus grunted as he supercharged his brain, hoping to brain blast his way to a cool idea. Instead, a different blast, definitely not one associated with brains, reverberated loudly throughout the forest, as a gargantuan flash of multicolored light filled the sky, momentarily even eclipsing the laughing baby sun with its own intense prismatic shine. Both Rufus and the Teletubbies gave up their game of cat and mouse and craned their necks upward.

“There you are,” came a raspy, irritating voice from above, “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Rufus barely paid the voice any mind, instead opting to continue formulating an escape plan. Surely the voice had been looking for the tubbies or the centipede, after all, he didn’t know ANYBODY in this world besides a chupacabra and a zebra, neither of whom had such ear-piercing voices.

The source of the voice, a blue pegasus with a rainbow mane, hovered ever closer to the object of her attention, which, surprise surprise, DID happen to be Rufus.

“You! What the heck is your frickin’ problem?” she screamed.

Rufus was, again nonplussed, which was unusual, as after last time, he was sure he’d been more careful with his plusses.

“Meeee?” cried Rufus as he looked around for some plusses.

“Stop looking for plusses and explain yourself! A nameless freak told me he saw you destroy an entire city block and kill like, at least twenty (percent cooler) pegasi.”

“Ah, that wasn't my fault, see an evil scientist was threateni-”

“Tubby custard!” Interrupted Po, rolling her eyes as she had to explain for the umpteenth time.

“What the heck are these things?” inquired Rainbow Dash, as the four hulking figures trudged toward her, eventually surrounding her on all sides.

Rufus didn’t bother answering. Instead, he took advantage of the tubbies’ shifted focus, scurrying off into the underbrush so he could watch the unfolding carnage from a safe distance. Fear them though he might, Rufus couldn’t miss a classic evisceration.

“Tubby custard! Tubby custard!” They demanded as they jumped up and down.

“I don’t know what that is,” responded Rainbow Dash plainly.

At this, the Teletubbies shifted their expressions from mere irritation to ones of unyielding rage. Each one pawed out, clutching Rainbow Dash by a different atrophied limb. In unison they yanked, tearing her limbs off in four simultaneous wet rips, sending her spinning through the air like a zero-gravity Beyblade. When she righted herself with her powerful wings, she turned to the horde of hungry teddy bear alien things.

“Wow, thanks, I’ve been meaning to get rid of those dead weights,” said Rainbow Dash earnestly, having long since abandoned walking as a form of travel. Her wings were so unbelievably strong that she was capable of flying for several days at a time, while the rest of her had shriveled to the point where she’d started to resemble the Pokemon Togetic; a mere ovular facsimile of a body attached to enormous wings.

She zoomed skyward towards her pegasus squad, who had just arrived behind her, lacking anywhere near enough speed to truly keep up. Some college idiot did a powerpoint seven years ago claiming she could fly at like mach 12 or some bullshit, so yeah.

“Hey guys, it’s all totally cool, those weird creatures just ripped all my legs off.”

“So the profuse bleeding isn’t a problem?” asked Pegasus Character.

Rainbow Dash hadn’t considered that. She looked down, and saw that her once-blue coat had mixed with her red blood, making her purple, and NOT in a good way. She swiftly lost consciousness, plummeting to the ground at an elevated speed, thanks to the fact that her legs being gone made her more aerodynamic.

Her little squad dove as fast as they could, but she drifted ever further from them, and ever closer to the ground at the speed of one whole gravity. With a wet ‘splat’ she collided with a rock jutting out from the grass, the tortilla-like skin under her fur shredded immediately as her body did its best imitation of a water balloon, but full of vital goo instead of water! The previously-rainbow mane for which the pegasus was named for, still intact as it detached from her rent corpse, became dangerously monochrome as her oily red innards dyed everything in a 10 foot radius.

Tinky Winky, the biggest and strongest, had first dibs on the paste. He turned and looked over the other teletubbies with crazed eyes, almost hoping they’d be foolish enough to disobey his authority, before he waddled over to the corpse. Bending down he swabbed his paw on the soaked stone, sponging up the red goop, before placing it in his mouth and suckling gently. He sampled it for a few moments, acquiring the taste through the scabs that coated most of his tongue, and as he absorbed Rainbow Dash’s soul through her desecrated remains, her memories began playing through the screen on his tummy.

The other teletubbies gathered around and watched, clapping and laughing at the horse’s stupid antics, thoroughly entertained by the bright, pastel colors, and talking horses on screen like a bunch of braindead man-children. Meanwhile the pegasi in the air watched on in absolute horror, all too surprised to make a move, which would prove to be their downfall. Within moments of consuming the filthy substance, Tinky Winky retched, realizing that this was NOT tubby custard. He furrowed his brow, and gazed irately like a gamer at the now low-hovering group of pegasi.

“TUBBY CUSTARD!” He screamed, his normally deep, rumbly voice now a shrill shriek. Quick as a whip crack sound from Johnny Test, a veritable geyser of putrid brown liquid gushed forth from Tinky Winky’s mouth. The caustic goo soared through the air, sloshing with the force of a fire hose at the flying gaggle of horse-geese.

Hurriedly they all rushed upward, but only half of the pegasi were spared. The rest were doused in the deluge, their elegant feathers being slathered with a thick grime that completely mitigated their ability to create lift. They flopped to the ground unimpressively, where Tinky Winky was waiting.

Standing above them imposingly like Grimace from McDonalds lore, he placed one foot on the leg of a single trapped pegasus, before applying weight, crunching it into jelly. The pony screeched, her head turning 360 degrees as agony surged through her. Tinky Winky guffawed, and began mashing the pony’s body with his big, bare feet, converting the pony bit by bit into a paste not-unlike applesauce. The other teletubbies chuckled in glee as they watched him work, mashing from hoof to head to ensure as much suffering as possible.

“Tubby Custard!” said Tinky Winky triumphantly as he stomp-danced on the pile of goo, before sweeping large globs of it into the red bag he kept with him always.

Impressed, but not one to be outdone, Dipsy moved over to the closest downed Pegasus, his outlandishly thicc thighs clapping together with each step and causing the now-still pool of Rainbow Dash’s blood to vibrate. All eyes were on him, the other teletubbies admiring his mcnuggies, while the ponies starred in terror. The nearest one began begging, attempting to crawl away like a worm, but the vomit that coated him held him fast against the grass, his skin turning raw and red as the weak enzymes from Tinky Winky’s secondary stomach started their work, but this was ignored in favor of the monstrosity that approached.

“Tubby Custard!” Dipsy announced as he jumped onto the pony’s body with earth-shattering force, mulching most of the pony’s innards and causing intestines to spew from between his green toes and fly off in all directions like a can of snakes. The ground rumbled as he did a dance on the poor pony, burying the goopy remains in the dirt, the only evidence that this pony ever lived at all being the blood that stained between Dipsy’s toes like scum, even now being supped by dozens of flies that coated his feet like slippers.

Laa-laa danced over towards the next pegasi, her graceful steps and friendly smile betraying her true intentions as she began tap dancing on the pony- this one a boy-’s measly dick. I know what you’re thinking, “wow, I wish a cute yellow children’s-show character would step on my dick”, but this aint your Grandma’s cock and ball torture!

With precise but devastating steps, Laa-laa’s sausage-like toes compressed the pony’s dick into a two-dimensional object. Then, with magnificent footwork, she simultaneously pressed down on both testacles, popping them like grapes as all the pee that was stored up inside squirted out into a nearby pony’s eyes. Even that not enough to stop her from staring at the terrible fate of her friend, a distraction that prevented her from noticing Po’s approach until it was too late.

Po cartwheeled onto the prone pony, her already-red feet being applied with a fresh coat of paint as she began fortnite dancing. She did the floss, then that one from Scrubs, before ending with a dab. By this point the pony was thoroughly trampled, leaving not even eyeballs and entrails for the ravens who watched from the nearby trees, licking their lips in anticipation for the coming meal, but instead a glossy pool of flattened gibs.

Each pegasus had to watch the one before them suffer and die, and for the fifth pegasus, our beloved friend Pegasus Character, it was simply too much.

Unable to take his life any other way thanks to the immobilizing tubby paste, and fearing a gruesome stomp death, Pegasus Character bit off his own tongue and let it fall into his throat. His body reflexively gagged and coughed, blood filling his mouth, but he was unable to dislodge the rent organ. As he faded slowly to unconsciousness via a lack of oxygen, the last thing he saw were Tinky Winky’s dirty feet, and the last thing he thought about was licking them clean.

The half dozen pegasi who’d managed to fly above the vomit-cannon held a moment of silence for Pegasus Character, the most relatable and well-developed character in the entire story.

“I can’t believe that guy’s dead,” muttered Ots’ethe through grit maxillipeds and teary eyes.

“He was the one pony I was hoping would survive,” agreed Rufus, “I’ve lost some incredible friends today. Hopefully he and Cool Rat are doing things that pertain to their interests together in heaven.”

While the teletubbies ground the grounded ponies into the ground, Dipsy stepped forward and looked up at the remaining group of pegasi who’d dared deny them their tubby custard. For any normal Teletubby, reaching those creatures would require an annoying amount of effort. For him, well, it was as easy as eating a big bowl of tubby custard.

He placed his nubby thumb in his disgusting mouth, and blew as hard as he could, his cute cheeks puffing up and turning redder than Po, whom he hoped to impress with this display.

His head-doodle wiggled for a moment, then stretched upward at a speed so fast it required motion blur to maintain its framerate, giving some readers motion sickness. In an instant it speared through the delicate rib cage of one of the nameless pegasi, who may or may not have personalities. Probably not. It died in moments as its heart was ruptured, and its limp body slid down Dipsy’s horn, staining it just as red as Po’s thick cheeks, before landing with a plop on his head. Like an Indian chieftain, he’d wear the corpse as headwear until the flies picked it clean over the next couple of days, leaving only the feathers.

The display worked just as intended, Po gazing at the events unfolding before her with lustful glee.

“Tubby custard?” Po asked through half-lidded eyes.

“Tubby custard.” cooed Dipsy.

That was just too much for Po, who was overcome by arousal. She shoved her paw between her legs, violently rubbing her swiftly moistening Telepussy, depraved pornographic images flashing rapidly on her screen in a seizure-inducing strobe.

Rufus glared at the bright red vagina from his hiding space.

“Ots’ethe I think I have an idea, how long does the transvaginator take to steal a vagina?” Po’s gaping, saggy pussy would fit nicely onto his own wrinkled groin.

“Gosh, like two full minutes, it’s ridiculous.”

Rufus facepalmed. “Nevermind.”

Fed up with watching the massacre, one of the pegasi finally worked up the gal to strike back against these beasts. She wasn’t about to let them win, or get away with these atrocities. “Come on guys and gals,” she rallied, “let’s show these bullies what for! Who’s with me?!”

The other pegasi, spurred on by the power of friendship, and perhaps magic, but mostly friendship, cheered in unison. Millions of years of evolution as a prey species allowing them to easily forget the brutality they’d just witnessed and they formed into a tight group.

“Friendship diiiive!” she yelled, so close to becoming a main character it was scary!

Not close enough, however. As they approached, Po leaned her head down in the throws of ecstacy, sticking her bubble-blower head-diddly into a nearby pool of pulped viscera before rapidly swinging it back, creating a huge red bubble which careened towards the formation of pegasi. It hit them head on, popping and scattering them like a bunch of bowling pins.

The Teletubbies danced, celebrating her strike as dazed ponies rained down around them. After a few moments, they gathered the little, colorful horses in a small pile between them, towering over the group like the walls of a cage.

As the ponies snapped back to reality, they were met with the sight of the four juggernauts who were gagging and retching.

“What are they doing?” one of the ponies questioned, only for the answer to present itself as Laa-laa heaved a torrent of pinkish bile which spilled all over the pony’s face. She gasped in surprise for a moment, the vomit getting into her open eyes and mouth, before screaming. The stomach acid melted through her eyes and deliquessed her tongue. Her fur fell away in wet clumps, the skin where the acid made contact becoming more tender than pulled pork, and it simply slid off her bones into a pile. Her screaming became a strangled moan as her throat filled with a frothing mixture chyme and liquified flesh and her jaw pitched away into the growing pile of dissolved flesh that had become her.

Before the other ponies could so much as begin farting the alphabet, a trio of similar torrents of vile chyme rained over the assembled group. Their death throws did little but excite the teletubbies who had begun circle jerking, getting off while watching the pegasi melt and fuse together into a growing pile of orangish gelatin-like goo.
Tinky Winky, despite his impressive bulk, had the stamina of a 12 year-old girl, and he blew his load over the acidic mess, releasing half a liter of black liquid chocked full of flesh-eating sperm from the nozzle-like head of his 19-inch throbbing purple dick. It too had a triangular diddly on its head, and, were you to graft wings to the shaft, it could easily pass for a 1-eyed, 1-horned, flying, purple people eater. With a sigh of relief, him and the other tubbies pulled straws from the little compartment below their screens and began slurping up the remains.

“Tubby Custard,” Dipsy exclaimed, as if to say ‘now that’s what I call tubby custard!’

“Tubby Custard,” Po agreed, who loved Tubby Custard most of all.

At this point, their tummy screens which had been flicking through pornography returned to their regularly-scheduled broadcasts of dark imagery and gore, showing a direct link to the twisted planes from which the Tubbies had been spawned.

At this point, Rufus had seen enough, and snuck away into the woods. He’d be sure to steer well clear of that hill as he made his way towards the smoke on the horizon.

If you’ve been paying attention, they only killed 11 random ponies though, when supposedly a dozen ponies had shown up to help Rainbow Dash. This is important! Don’t forget this!