Nothing to Write Home About
“Mrmmfff...”
Groggily, Flash Sentry rubbed one eye, then the next. He blinked at the bright red street lights hanging over the intersection.
“Just... can't think of his name...”
His hands gripped tight to the steering wheel of his slick sports car. The afternoon sun was waning, and—between studying for college exams and cramming an afternoon full of delivery runs—the twenty-one year old was having difficulty keeping his exhausted eyes open.
“Grghhhh...”
He clenched his teeth, switching on his turn signal as he sensed the perpendicular lanes slowing down.
“...he voices a million friggin' characters.”
The light flickered to green. Flash took an immediate right, turning into a Wendy's parking lot. He stopped the car, cut the engine, and hopped out. By the time he entered the restaurant, he had his phone pulled out. There was a pale young woman with snow white hair at the counter. He presented the employee the phone app with deliveries and names listed on it. Within a minute, she brought out two bags of freshly-made fast food. He took them with a polite bow and rushed back to his car outside.
“Tangled: The Series.” Flash's brow furrowed as he revved the engine, fastened his seat belt, and pulled out of park. “The head of the royal guard?” He shook his head, furiously. “No. The King.”
His tires screeched a bit as he angled down a long road flanked with neighborhood subdivisions. He took a deep breath, lowering his speed. It was common for cops to form traps along these intersections. He had lived in this town long enough to know.
“Spongebob Squarepants...” Flash Sentry's eyes danced left and right as he cruised along. Every once in a while he would whip out his phone and dutifully check the GPS to see how close he was to his first of two destinations. “The octopus?” A chime sounded from his phone. He merged into his right lane and prepared to turn into a cluster of suburban houses. “No—the crab. Definitely the crab.”
Two more turns—then an idle coasting into a cul-de-sac. Flash had arrived at his destination. He left the engine on as he hopped out, grabbed one bag of food by its matching labels, and quick-walked up the concrete slab steps leading towards the front of a quaint cottage house.
“Swear to God, you're gonna have Alzheimer's when you get old...” He gnashed his teeth. “Why don't you know this off the top of your head?”
With a defeated sigh, the young man pressed the door bell. He waited in patient silence. At long last, there were footsteps rummaging up from inside.
Experience had taught Flash to announce himself loudly, even if it came across as intrusive:
“Pegasus Eats!” he chanted, raising a bag for someone—anyone—to see through the fogged glass of the front doorframe. “You ordered a family meal from Wendy's...?”
“Oh wow~. You're here so soon~?” hummed a voice from the other end. “Did you run all the way in those stilettos, my little pet~?”
Flash wasn't entirely certain what he heard. Even more important—he didn't care. “Yeah, well, I've got another delivery to make, so would you want me to leave this at the doorstep or—?”
The door swung open. Fluttershy stood—tall and majestic in a leather pink-and-black corset with her puffy pierced nipples exposed and her shapely legs squeezed into massive black latex high-heel boots.
“Well well well~” she purred, black lipstick glossed over her erotically-charged face. She slapped a pink rider's crop into the latex palm of her opposite glove. “Seems like a naughty little sissy wants to really live up to Mommy's challenges—!” The moment her eyes reflected Flash Sentry's figure, they widened like saucers. “EEEP!!!” She gasped, covering her trembling mouth. The rider's crop fell down... only to pinball off the veiny sculpture of a massive fourteen-inch pink dildo strapped to her lower abdomen.
Flash Sentry blinked. A calm breath, and he held the bag of fast food out. “Here you go, Miss...”
“Mmmm...!” With trembling gloved fingers, Fluttershy nervously took the order from him. She hung her head, her lusciously-perfumed hair covering her face. Just then, the needle-taps of stiletto heels lit the air. Fluttershy's turquoise eyes flitted past him.
Flash turned around...
...in time to see a lithe figure with luscious green hair strutting up to the front of the house. The gussied-up tart wore an undeniably slutty two-piece miniskirt set with saucy fishnets, and an insultingly tiny pink purse that hung from his shoulder. A pair of green eyes reflected the wilting dominatrix in the doorway. “I'm... finally... here... M-Mommy...” Timber Spruce huffed in a high-pitched voice. “Sorry. I lost my way from the bus stop—” He froze the moment his eyes reflected Flash Sentry. “... … ...oh. I... g-guess the food got here first...?”
Silence.
“Uhm... d-don't tell Twilight...?” Timber smiled nervously, his whorish makeup starting to run under a sheen of nervous sweatdrops. “...and w-we'll give you a good review on the app. I promise~.”
Flash Sentry blinked tiredly... then walked straight past him and sat right back in the driver's seat of his car. Once he shut his door, he could spot in the rear-view mirror a tall, frustrated mistress yanking her femboi bottom inside the house and forcing him to kneel just milliseconds before the entrance shut entirely.
“Also Lex Luthor...” Flash continued, pulling the car away from the curb and cruising towards the next neighborhood two blocks away. “In that old cartoon.”
He huffed out the side of his mouth in frustration as he occasionally checked the app on his phone.
“Dang it... I should know this. He was in Starship Troopers.”
He reached a two-story house along a stretch of road. Once parked at his second destination of the hour, he hopped out of his car with the last tray of food.
“Shawshank Redemption...” His eyes narrowed on the front door as he walked up the path. “That... one episode of Mandalorian...”
It was all Flash could do to forget about the impending Renaissance/Baroque Humanities quiz that he knew was looming. He rung the doorbell—but before the sound even stopped ringing, the door swung open.
A tower of whipped cream loomed before him—whipped cream shaped like a bikini—a bikini that was slowly melting, layer by layer exposing lavender flesh, perky purple areolae, and a cleanly-shaved pussy dripping with... something even wetter than whipped cream.
“Uhmm...” Twilight Sparkle blushed, her glasses gradually fogging the longer she stood naked and mousey before the delivery boy. “...is that a Dave's Triple combo meal?”
“I...” Flash looked at the app on his phone, then back at the cream-slathered nude. “...guess?”
A chirpy, pleasant voice cackled from somewhere deep within the house. “Tell him to dump it all over you!!!”
“Could you... dump it all over me... if you d-don't mind...?” Twilight meekly purred, cheeks reddening. “Like the filthy pet that I am? Pl-Please...?”
“... … ...” Flash shrugged. He ripped open the bag, turned it upside down over Twilight's head, and liberally piled meat patties, cheese, condiments, fries, and a bursting cup of soda all over her upper body.
“Now thank the nice deliverer for anointing tonight's meal~!” sang the voice from within.
Twilight squinted through the mess of cholesterol oozing down her trembling face. “Th-thank you...” A gulp. “And... uhm... don't tell Timber? I-I'll give you a good review. You can count on me.”
Flash turned around and walked back to the car.
“Now get back in here, ya silly bitch, and come bounce on these tits! Heeheehee!!”
“Yes, Goddess Pinkie~” Twilight sighed dreamily, flouncing back into the house and—Slam!
Flash slumped back into his car. He gazed dead ahead into the falling evening, his pupils a million miles away.
“... … ...Detroit: Become Human. He was in that too.”
At long last, he clenched his teeth...
...and gave in.
He lifted his phone and brought up IMDB. All it took was a few simple fingerstrokes, and—
“Clancy Brown!!!” He flung a fist against the dashboard and kicked the glove compartment. “God damn it! Of course! You... friggin' demented idiot...!!!”
