The Murderhobo-ing Begins (and ends, this is a one-shot)
Twas a night so dark,
Not a pony in sight.
For a pink pony had killed all of them,
It was quite the fright.
She sat in her shed,
making baubles and curios.
The remains of her friends,
were quite the… splurio? Idfk lol.
Nopony knows why she did it.
As far as I’m concerned,
it’s more of a ‘why not’ scenario
Then anything logical.
And if it’s one thing that this poem has taught me.
Its that rhyming is hard.
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VICTIM ONE: MAGIC SPORKLE
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This morning was like any other in a Ponyville summer. Rain was scheduled for midday and the ponies of the small rural village bustled about doing their business. Everypony was happy, and the sun above shone the smiles on their faces to everypony around them, resulting in a social positive feedback loop of happiness.
Despite this, Pinkie Pie, without any actual reason for it, was feeling quite murderous. It was almost as if she was the subject of a poorly written fan-fiction of a children’s cartoon show, and the only reason anypony wrote her character like this was because of that one time she had a mental breakdown because she thought her friends had abandoned her.
But that’s crazy talk! Pinkie Pie was just murderous because why not, who needs explanations for things so out of the norm?
Because of this unfortunate circumstance, Pinkie had to find somepony to murder, and she decided there was no better pony to start off with than with the one pony that could stop her on her murderous rage: Twilight Sparkle. Being a bookworm, she usually had her face stuck ten inches up the ass of a book, making for an easy target. Though Pinkie found such a thing far to easy, and decided that maybe she should do some really messed up shit instead.
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“Hey! Twilight! Your pal Pinkie is here, Open up!”
Twilight Sparkle, the pupil of Princess Celestia and the connoisseur of all kinds of shitty romantic novels like The Time I Fell in Love With a Giant Toad and Rocks, Rocks, Toss My Rocks, was currently attempting to stay awake after a long time spent studying all through the night. Pinkie arriving was probably a good thing, considering she usually kept a few sweets around at any given time.
“I’m coming… Pinkie…”
Like a shambling zombie Twilight slowly made her way to the door, Pinkie Pie bursting through without much warning, landing on top of Twilight in what she found to be in an uncomfortable position.
“Hey Twilight! How would you feel if you got killed with a spork?”
An odd question, to say the least, though not out of the norm for Pinkie, not by a longshot. “Well, I suppose I would feel kind of honored.”
Pinkie Pie jumped off of Twilight, stnding a bit confused in the corner. “What, why?”
“Well, there are a lot of reasons…” Twilight got up from the floor, dusting herself off and turning around to grab a book on her favorite utensil and opening it to page xxi, A Prologue on the Spork.
“You see, Pinkie, the spork is the most superior of-”
Twilight, who had been reading one of her favorite subjects, was interrupted by an amazingly sharp pain in her right-most ribs, looking over to see what had happened, she found a hole in her torso.
“Hey Pinkie. Whats that?”
“A hole.”
“Where did it come from?”
“A spork.”
“Huh.”
It was at that moment Twilight felt another sharp pain, but this time it was on her left side, and it seemed to balance out the pain. Once again, Twilight looked over, and saw that there was a bigger, bloodier hole in her side.
“Pinkie Pie, why did you stab me again?”
“To puncture both of your lungs.”
“Why?”
“Well it was really the only way I could think of having a way to kill you with a spork.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah it was a lot funnier in concept.”
Pinkie Pie sat on her haunches, quite dissapointed with herself. Sure, Twilight would still die, mission accomplished, but at what cost? Certainly not the comedy of it.
*THUMP*
Twilight had fallen to the floor, no longer able to sustain her weight in death.
“This wasn’t very cash-money of you, Pinkie.”
“Eh, I tried.”
“Well, at least you had the courtesy to kill me with what is obviously the most superior of eating utensils. The sporks fork prongs allow for you to eat harder foods easily, but still let you slurp up the more watery dishes with ease. Truly, Pinkie, you are a kind soul.”
The world began to fade to a dim dark black all around Twilight, the sounds and feelings coming from her now dying body seemingly getting farther and farther away, when her killers voice brought her back to reality one last time.
“Ooh! Twilight! Your name could be Twilight SPORKle! HAHAHA!”
“Oh you sonuvabi-BLEH”
=0=0=0=
3 Weeks later…
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Almost everypony in Ponyville had succumbed to a grisly fate at the hoofs of Pinkie. Really it had been a cakewalk. As it turns out, coming up with punny deaths for the denizens of Ponyville was quite easy. Rainbow Dash was drowned in a pool of rainbows from Cloudsdale, Big Mac had died to an overdose on appleseeds (somehow), and Mayor Mare had been offed with stress. Who would have thought so much stress was lethal?
But you see, the thing about almost everypony is that it wasn’t everypony. That was an issue. If word got out that Pinkie was a sloppy killer, this fanfiction would get review-bombed into oblivion, and we can’t have that. Oh no, we need to get that sweet, sweet like to dislike ratio.
As it convienently turned out for the plot, the final bastion of ponies were a small group of fillies and colts who had barricaded themselves within the confines of the schoolhouse. Pinkie had decided it was best to save them for last, as she wanted to go out with a bang, and she liked bangs.
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“Hey Cutie Mark Crusaders, get out here so I can kill you with this stick covered in cutie marks!”
After a bit of rustling and some whispers, the three heads of the members of the group dedicated to finding their cutie marks popped up out of the bell tower on top of the school.
“Fuck you Pinkie Pie!” Said Scootaloo.
“Fuck you Pinkie Pie!” Said Sweetie Belle.
“Hey, why are y’all bein’ so mean? All she did was kill a few ponies.”
“Are you stupid, AB? She killed Applejack, your sister!” Sweetie Belle retorted.
“Pfft, oh, how could I forget? I can be such a stupid mud pony sometimes.” Apple Bloom looked right at Pinkie and yelled out a fair greeting. “Yeah, fuck you Pinkie Pie!”
“Is there no way I can convince you to come out?”
“NO!” All three crusaders yelled out in unison.
“Is there anypony in there named Ember?”
“NO!”
“Firestarter?”
“NO!”
“Uuh, Plot Twist?”
“You killed her last week, jerk!”
“Dang.”
And so, Pinkie Pie had been stumped by her one true weakness: a lack of comedic irony. For years, Pinkie Pie would sit outside the school, guessing for names that might assist her in killing the fillies and colts inside, and she got fairly close a few times. She tried flooding the place when she heard that there was a fillie named “Aqua Pura”, but was stumped when she broke the dam only to realize that the school sat on a hill, making it impervious to her assault. Pinkie died of heart failure after having one to many cupcakes, and Ponyville never recovered.
FIN
