Ice Cube Tells Stories to the Ponyville School-Children

Chapters

Little Red Riding Ho'
Jack and the Beanstalk
Three Little Pigs
Pinocchio
Hansel and Gretel
The Ugly Duckling
Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Little Red Riding Ho'

Ice Cube approached the school-house door, anticipating the next story he would read to the kids inside. Before knocking, he could clearly hear arguing and commotion coming from the inside of the school-house. After a week in Ponyville, Ice Cube had gotten fond of the children and their addiction to arguing. Today, it could have been one of many things, including, but not limited to; family status, who started the argument first, whoever smelt it delt it, what kind of bird they thought Scootaloo would be, and these so called "blank flanks".

Opening the door a crack, Ice Cube peeked in at the argument. It seemed to be about blank flanks.

"Hey Apple Bloom, how's your cutie mark doing? Oh wait, I forgot; you don't have one." Diamond Tiara teased. Her voice irked Ice Cube to his core and her very presence made him wish he had a weapon of some sort.

"Yeah. Show us your special talent, blank flank." Silver Spoon mocked. When Ice Cube thought about it, it seemed like Silver Spoon was Tiara's bitch. If it were true, Diamond Tiara would have been the meanest pimp in the world.

"Haven't we been over this?" Apple Bloom asked, rolling her eyes at the over-used insult. She acted like she didn't care, but Ice Cube could see it was bothering her.

His conscious was telling him he should break up the fight, but his gangsta side was telling him to wait a little bit to see where this was going. His gangsta side won this round.

Cheerilee will break up the argument. Ice Cube thought.

"Maybe if you three spent more time being useful than you did crusading, you wouldn't be blank flanks." Diamond Tiara mocked with an evil smile.

Okay, Cheerilee, now would be a good time to stop this.

"Useful? You're lecturing us about being useless? Everything you have, your Dad gave to you." Scootaloo shot back.

Nice. Take her down a peg, Scoots.

"At least I have a Dad." Tiara said cruelly.

WOAH! That... that's just fucked up. Cheerilee, break it up! he yelled in his mind.

"That's not funny." Sweetie Belle got in Tiara's face. "How would you feel if you didn't have a Dad?"

Scootaloo didn't look sad or angry, but she looked very annoyed.

Tiara smirked at the notion. "But I do. And my parents don't neglect me like your sister neglects you for dresses."

That's it.

"HEY! What the hell's going on?" Ice Cube slammed the door open. The class fell silent on hearing his booming voice. "And where's Cheerilee?"

The class stayed eerily quiet for a few seconds before Apple Bloom spoke up.

"M-Miss Cheerilee is at the post office. She left just a couple minutes ago."

"Okay, and why are you arguing?"

"They keep calling us blank flanks, and Diamond Tiara made fun of Scootaloo because her Dad's gone." Sweetie Belle answered.

"For the last time, I have a Dad. He's on a Manehattan business trip." Scootaloo spoke up.

"Okay, first of all; yo Diamond Bitch." Ice Cube stared daggers at Diamond Tiara. She looked up from her pouting slump to see Ice Cube stick his middle finger high and proud.

"You probably don't know what this means, but I can tell you; it aint fuckin' good." he turned back to the class.

"Now what the hell is a blank flank?"

"You know those cutie marks you see on ponies' flanks? They symbolize a pony's special talent." Scootaloo answered.

Ice Cube had wondered what the marks were that he saw on ponies, but refrained from asking them what they were. On Earth, it wasn't a great idea to go around asking people what kind of tattoo they had on their ass. He assumed ponies were no different.

"Okay, and?"

"Ponies that haven't found their special talent are called blank flanks, because they don't have their cutie marks." Scootaloo continued.

"And you three haven't found your talents yet?" Ice Cube asked. The three fillies promptly shook their heads. Ice Cube looked back to Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.

"Really? That's the big insult? That's the reason you're making fun of them? Because of an ass tattoo?"

The two guilty ponies had never heard of cutie marks being referred to as "ass tattoos", nor had the rest of the class. It did kind of roll off the tongue, though.

"Well, yeah. I mean, a pony not having a cutie mark is just... weird." Silver Spoon muttered.

"And? Your's is a spoon. A SPOON! What's your talent? Eating soup? Spooning?"

"What is spooning?" Silver asked.

"When you're older, kid."

Silver Spoon gave Ice Cube a quizzical look, wondering if eating soup really was her special talent. Well, I am pretty good at it. she thought.

"And you..." Ice Cube said menacingly, pointing an accusing finger at Diamond Tiara. "A tiara for an ass tattoo? Could you be any more of a pompous prick? You just- you..." Ice Cube stopped. He couldn't think of words to describe his contempt for this miniature shit-face named Diamond Tiara; so instead he thought of a story.

"You know what? How about I read you kids a little story." Ice Cube said calmly, an erie grin on his face, never breaking eye contact with Diamond Tiara. Normally, the kids would rejoice at an Ice Cube story, but they knew now would be the time to be quiet and let him do his thang.

"Little Red Riding Ho'."

In a small village, kinda like Ponyville, there lived a ho' named Diamond Tiara.

"Hey!" Tiara protested.

"My story, my rules. Now sit your ass down."

The reason she was called Little Red Riding Ho' was because of the red hood she wore to her bitch cult meetings. It was a cult of the bitches, by the bitches, for the bitches; and Diamond Tiara was the bitch head-master. Well, Little Red Riding Ho's mom told her to go out into the woods and give her Grandmother some alzheimers pills... or was it a cake? Hell if I know.

So Diamond Tiara left town to get the pill cake to her Grandma. Along the way, she met a wolf. He called himself Raekwondo. Now, Raekwondo was not only a wolf intent on eating up ho's like Fruit Loops, he was also a convicted pedophile. Raekwondo saw Little Red and put on his best non-pedophile face.

"Where are you going, Little Red?" the wolf asked.

Diamond Tiara, being the stupid bitch she was, didn't ask him who he was, or why he wanted to know, or how he knew her name, or how a fucking wolf could talk. Instead, she gave him the address without a second thought. Raekwondo nodded in satisfaction.

"Thanks. You know what would be fun? If we raced to your Grandma's house to see who's faster."

Diamond Tiara ignored the fact that this was a stupid idea, and agreed. The wolf ran off into the wilderness, leaving the dumb bitch Diamond Tiara behind.

In mere minutes, the wolf reached the Grandma's house, but decided that he wouldn't molest her. Raekwondo was a strong believer of the old idiom "6 and over, bend em' over". He also went by a similar quote, "40 and under, tear their ass asunder". However, Little Red's granny had to be at least 54, so Raekwondo the wolf thought of a plan. He knocked on the door and cleared his throat, trying to put on the best impersonation of Diamond Tiara.

"Granny, it's me; Little Red Riding Ho'. I've come to kill- I mean, give you some drugs for your alzheimers."

"Red?" the granny said. "Okay, come in, dearie. I have a thick brick of medicinal marijuana on the table. Help yourself to some."

Raekwondo listened from outside the door with more interest. "W-what kind is it?"

"Jamaican Sunrise... or was it Dutch Dope? Hell if I know, but it's good shit." she said. Raekwon had lost the will to kill Granny, and decided to just walk in.

"Hey, you're not my Grand-daughter." she mumbled, a hash pipe secured between her lips.

"Yeah, I kinda lied." he said shamefully before speaking up again. "You said you had weed?"

Granny gave Raekwondo a warm grin before tossing him a plastic bong, and pointing towards the table where there sat a huge block of grass. "Help yourself."

Almost an hour went by and Raekwondo and Granny were having a blast getting baked together. They discussed Bob Marley, legalization, and their favorite Dave Chapelle skit.

"I'M RICK JAMES, BITCH!" Granny did her impersonation of Chapelle's impersonation of Rick James. Raekwondo gave a hearty laughter.

"Y'know, wolf; you're a hell of a lot more fun to chill with than my Grand-daughter. She doesn't smoke with me and all she wants to talk about is gossip and her underground bitch cult."

As if by clockwork, there was a knock at the door, followed by Little Red's voice.

Granny sighed. "Well, there she is. I guess you'd better get going before she goes on about how her cult has finally reached four members."

Raekwondo would have laughed at this, but he was busy panicking. He completely forgot about Diamond Tiara. Having no better ideas, he grabbed a lamp and hit Granny in the head. He made sure Granny was unconscious before dragging her into the closet. Raekwondo grabbed some of her clothes and put them on, jumping on the bed and getting under the covers.

"I am so fucked." he said.

"Granny, are you in there? I have your medication." Red called from outside the door.

"Okay, come in."

The super-bitch Diamond Tiara walked in and noticed something was wrong.

"Grandma, why is there a broken lamp on the floor? You weren't in another violent orgy, were you?"

'What the fuck.' he thought. "Why, no. Of course not dearie."

She sniffed the air for a moment. "Granny, is that weed?"

"Hells yeah." Raekwondo impersonated Granny and cowered beneath the sheets. It didn't matter, because Diamond Tiara noticed the difference between a wolf and an old-ass lady.

"Grandmother, what big arms you have!" Little Red pointed out.

"All the better to play shuffleboard with." Raekwondo replied.

"Grandmother, what big legs you have!"

"All the better to run from the cops with."

"Grandmother, what big ears you have!"

"Uh, it's a side-effect of the alzheimers."

"Grandmother, what big eyes you have!"

"What, so a nigga can't have big eyes now? What are you, the fucking eye police? Get off my dick, ho'!"

"Grandmother, what big teeth you have!"

"Fuck it." he said, standing up straight and yelling, "GET IN MY BELLY!"

The mega-bitch screamed, thinking it was all over. But then, three black men jumped throught the window and bitch-slapped Raekwondo into unconsciousness. It was Dr Dre, MC Ren, and Eazy-E!

"Oh, thank you. I thought she was gonna eat m-" Diamond Tiara was cut off by a relentless flurry of curb stomps and bitch-slaps, as the three beat on her bitchy, spoiled, self-centered ass.

All Diamond Tiara could see throughout the beating were boots, the backs of hands, and Dre occasionally grabbing his nuts.

After they were done with their merciless beatdown, the three men started smoking Granny's hash and wrote "dumb bitch" all over Tiara's KO'd body.

And that is the story of how the super-sayan-tier bitch, Diamond Tiara came to be. The end.

"That was the stupidest story I've ever heard." Diamond Tiara noted, earning boos and scowlss from most of her classmates. She was not phased.

"What was the moral of the story, anyway? Did it even have a moral?"

"Yeah, the moral is that you're a bitch." Ice Cube reminded her.

"Best moral I've seen in a while." Scootaloo whispered to Apple Bloom.

A few seconds later, the doorknob to the schoolhouse turned, and in walked their beloved teacher.

"Hi, Miss Cheerilee." the class greeted in unison.

"Hello students. Sorry I'm late. I was-" Cheerilee stopped when she saw Ice Cube standing in front of the class.

"Oh, hello, Ice Cube. Is it reading day already?" she asked nervously.

"It's alright, Cheerilee. I already told my story. So I guess I'll be on my way." the gangsta rapper walked out of the door quickly, only briefly saying good-bye to the children. He clearly didn't want to see Cheerilee when she found out what the story was about.

"Hmm, interesting. Well, class, are you ready to begin on long division?" Cheerilee asked. Some of them gave a response, but most of them were chattering amongst themselves. All of them seemed happy except for one Diamond Tiara.

"Hey, children. Just out of curiosity, what was Mr Ice Cube's story about?"

The children looked at each other nervously, looking like the answer would get them in trouble.

Uh-oh. she thought.

"Okay, I'll ask again. Can anypony tell me what story Mr Ice Cube read you today?"

Apple Bloom slowly raised her hoof, looking around the room for anypony else doing the same.

"Yes, Apple Bloom."

"Do ya' promise that Ah won't get in trouble?" the filly asked.

"I promise, Apple Bloom. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."

Apple Bloom let out a deep inhale and exhale before answering. "The story was about how Diamond Tiara is an unfeeling, gold-digging, pedophile-trusting, bitch whore."

Cheerilee just stared at a nervous Apple Bloom, and then directed her gaze to a frustrated Tiara; then to Apple Bloom; then to Tiara. Without saying a word, Cheerilee turned back to the chalk board and picked up a piece of chalk.

You got it right this time, Ice Cube. Pedophile-trusting was a little much, but well done.

Jack and the Beanstalk

Author's Note

This might just be the most offensive and profane chapter yet, although that wasn't my original intention. You have been warned... or persuaded. Whichever the case may be, "fuck" is said a lot. Enjoy.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

Ice Cube was sitting in his Ponyville apartment, eating cereal and drinking a hot cup of tea (and by tea, I mean liquor). He was almost finished with his cereal when he heard some yelling from outside. He ignored it and went back to eating his breakfast. A few seconds passed and there was the unmistakable sound of something crashing through his door. Ice Cube looked back at what did the damage. A gray head with a blonde mane was sticking out of a hole in his door.

"Hi, Ice Cube." Derpy Hooves greeted.

"Oh, heeey Derpy. What's happenin?" Ice Cube tried to hold back his frustration. Ice Cube had to remember that she was a few pups short of a litter; a few beers short of a party; a few sluts short of an orgy. You know what I mean.

"I'm great, Mr Ice Cube. Um, sorry about your door." Derpy said with a look of honest apology.

"Nah, it's fine. Who needs doors anyway?" he said.

MOTHERFUCKER! I just moved here, and I already have to get a new fucking door!?!? Fuck you! Fuck this! Fuck me! Fuck everything! FUUUUUUUUUUUUU- he yelled in his head, still managing to keep on a friendly look for the slow mare.

"Very true, Mr Ice Cube. Hey, here's your newspaper." Derpy pulled her head out of the hole and grabbed a paper out of her saddle-bag with her teeth. She stuck her head back into the shattered hole and dropped the paper at Ice Cubes feet.

Ice Cube picked up the newspaper and read the front headlines.

Princess Luna; Higher Approval Rating Than Princess Celestia?

King Sombra Gets His Ass Handed to Him.

Silver Spoon Starts Soup-Eating Business in Ponyville. Profits Expected To Double!

Humans Enter New Era of Prosperity, and Introduce Ponies to Alcohol. Millions of Passed-Out Faces Drawn On.

Daily Poll: Cutie Marks or Ass Tattoos? You Decide!

Ice Cube thought for a moment about how almost half of the headlines could be traced back to him.

"Hm. Thanks, Derps."

"No problem, Ice Cube. Oh, almost forgot. You have a letter, too." she said, pulling an envelope out of her bag and giving it to the disgruntled Human.

"Thanks again."

"No problem again, Mr Ice Cube. I have to go deliver more letters. Bye, nigga." Derpy said with a smile, flying clumsily away.

Ice Cube wondered where she heard the word 'nigga', but forgot about it when he remembered his door was now a shattered piece of shit. He just sighed and went back to his table.

Ice Cube sat down and opened the letter. It appeared to be from the the chief editor of the Ponyville newspaper.

Dear Ice Cube,

We at the Ponyville express have heard and taken an interest in your stories. We would like to ask that you come read one of these stories to us, so that we may put it in the next edition of our newspaper. There are no strings attached, so you have full creative freedom to tell your story how you see fit. As is normal, you will recieve 300 bits upon finishing the story. If you are interested, come to our headquarters at your leisure.

-Sincerely, chief editor Word Life.

Ice Cube was already a fan of this pony's name, but he wasn't too sure about the offer. Ice Cube wanted to read to the school-kids; he didn't really think about spreading it around. The money wasn't all that important to him either. He was about to throw out the letter when he remembered he needed money to replace his broken door. He thought for a moment before giving up.

"Shit." he said, putting his shoes on for the trip to Ponyville Express.

When he arrived, the chief editor was already waiting in the lobby.

"Mister Ice Cube, my name is Word Life. I see you got my letter. If you'll step this way, we can begin." the pony began leading him into the hallway. Ice Cube was still unsure, but he couldn't turn back now.

"Yeah, so you said no strings attached, right." Ice Cube asked.

"That is what I put in the the letter, is it not?" Word Life asked rhetorically. Ice Cube followed him further into the hall before they stopped in front of a double door.

"Now, Ice Cube, I wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable reading to only our writer, so I took the liberty to bring some familiar faces." at that, Word Life opened the double doors to a large room with what had to be hundreds of chairs surrounding a stage. In the front row sat the students he'd been reading to for the last couple weeks. Ice Cube cheered up a little at the sight of the children happy to see their reader. Even Diamond Tiara perked up a little; that dumb bitch.

"Would you like to begin, Ice Cube?" Word Life pointed a hoof to a chair in the middle of the stage. He assured Ice Cube that this chair was sizable for a human ass, and wouldn't break.

"Wait, but how did you know I would accept the offer?" Ice Cube asked Word Life.

"How did I know you'd accept the offer?" Word Life gave a hearty chuckle. "Because, my dear Ice Cube... they always accept." he said with a smile. Ice Cube could swear that pony's eyes glowed red for a second.

Woah! Holy shit, he's a motherfucking terminator. Ice Cube thought before moving to the stage, pushing his new revelation to the back of his mind for later.

Ice Cube sat on the chair after the class was done greeting him. Even Cheerilee gave a welcoming smile, which he found kind of suspicious, as Cheerliee probably hated his guts. The pony who was sitting at a type-writer gave the okay, and Ice Cube began.

"Jack and the Beanstalk."

Once upon a time, there was a young man who lived with his mother on a farm. They were broke as shit, and only had one cow, which gave them milk to sell at the market. They named the cow Snickers. But one day, Snickers didn't give them any milk. The mother panicked about how they wouldn't be able to make a living. Jack suggested he sell their cow at the market, and he went off to do just that.

On his way, he saw an old man, who stopped him and asked where he was going.

"Hey, Billy, where ya' goin'?" The old man asked.

"My name's Jack. And I'm going to sell Snickers here at the market."

"Oh, what a cooincidence. I'm currently trying to buy a cow."

"Daaaamn. That was easy. How much are you willing to pay?" Jack asked.

"Would you be interested in... beans?" the old man pulled five beans out of his pocket.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Beans? You couldn't buy a turd with beans."

"Ah, but these are magic beans. Four of them will create a beanstalk that reaches to the clouds over night. The fifth is guarunteed to give you a harder, longer-lasting erection for up to twelve hours."

"Shut up, and take my cow!" Jack yelled, pocketing his new beans. The two men went their seperate ways.

When Jack arrived at his Mom's house, she saw that Snickers wasn't with him.

"You actually sold the cow? For how much?" His Mom asked in excitement.

"You'll never believe it." Jack said.

"A thousand dollars?" she asked.

"Nope, five."

"Five thousand dollars?!"

"Nope. Try again."

"Five dollars?" his Mom asked, perking down a little.

"Nope. Try... five beeaaans." Jack said in a 'holla'-type voice. He threw his gains into the air, making it rain beans. The fuck-tard truly thought he got a great deal.

"Beans? Are you fucking serious? You sold our only cow for a handfull of beans?"

"But, Mom. They're magic beans. One of them is a viagra-bean, so I wouldn't eat any of them until I sort out which one it is."

Jack's mother grabbed the beans up off the floor and threw them out the window.

"Jack, go to your room before I whoop your punk ass."

"Yes Mommy." Jack said, going up to his room and falling asleep.

The next morning, Jack woke up and looked out of his window. Outside, he saw the beanstalk rising up out of the ground where his Mom threw the beans.

"Yeah! I was right, Mom. What now, bitch!" he yelled victoriously. Instead of telling his Mom they had a life-time supply of beans, he decided to climb the beanstalk like a dumbass. He climbed and climbed until he reached the top of the clouds. In front of him was a big cloud road. He followed the big cloud road until he reached a giant house. There was a giant woman sitting on the front porch.

"Yo, can I get something to eat?" he asked the giant cloud bitch.

"What do I look like, your fuckin' charity case? Beat it. Besides, my sugar daddy's an ogre, and he has the tendency to slap bitch-niggas like you. So if you don't wanna get slapped, you should turn around and keep on walkin'." she said, pointing back towards the road.

"But I'm really hungry." he insisted.

The sky bitch sighed and opened the front door. "Damn. Fine, you can come in." she led him into the kitchen and gave him some bread.

Before he was finished eating, they heard heavy footsteps coming toward the kitchen.

"Shit, it's my sugar daddy. You gotta hide." she whispered to Jack.

"But I'm not done eating." Jack complained.

"Nigga, do you wanna eat or do you wanna live? Now hurry up and get in the oven."

"What? Hell no, I'm not getting in the oven! I've seen those World War 2 documentaries."

"If you don't get in the oven, you are gonna get slapped to death. Now get your ass in this oven!"

Not wanting to get pimp-slapped to death, Jack abided and hopped inside the oven. She closed the oven door just in time, as the giant pimp/ogre walked in and put his fur coat on the table.

"What's cracka-lackin', Laqueesha? I'm gonna be upstairs, so kindly make me a mothafuckin' sandwich." the cloud-pimp looked and sounded a lot like Snoop Dogg if you looked closely.

"Yes, sugar daddy." Laqueesha obeyed.

"Wait, do you smell that?" he asked, sniffing the air. "Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell a bitch-nigga."

Jack nearly shit his pants, but Laqueesha managed to shoo the pimp away.

"Nope, no bitch-niggas here. It must be the smell of the one you slapped and ate yesterday."

Jack actually shit his pants this time. She never mentioned to him about getting eaten.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm going to take a nap. Oh, and when you make my sandwich, put less orc fat on it. I'm trying to keep my figure." he said before walking into another room.

"Yes , sugar daddy." she replied, making sure he had left before opening the oven again.

"Okay, now I'd haul ass if I were you." she suggested. Jack nodded and ran towards the door, passing by the pimp's bedroom. He saw a bag of gold sitting on the floor, and Jack grabbed it and ran towards the beanstalk.

For a while, he and his mom lived off the gold for a while, but it wasn't enough to keep them going for long. Jack ended up climbing the beanstalk again and making his way to the giants' house in the sky. On the porch, Laqueesha was sitting. Jack walked up to and asked her for more food.

"More food? Have you lost your damn mind? You'll get both of us in trouble." she ridiculed. "Besides, after you left, we found out one of the bags of gold was gone. Do you know anything about that?"

"Hmm, I can't seem to remember. Maybe some bread will jog my memory." Jack said slyly.

"Alright, fine, come in. But I have my eye on you." she brought him to the kitchen and gave him another piece of bread, before hearing the same steps coming towards the kitchen.

"Shit, get in the oven again." Laqueesha ordered. Jack silently obeyed and climbed into the oven.

"Bitch, where's my sandwich?" the cloud pimp walked into the room and sat at the table.

"Coming right up."

The pimp reached into a box and pulled out a hen.

"Lay." he said. With that, the hen shit a golden egg. He repeated the demand, and the hen shit another golden egg. The lazy pimp then fell asleep on the kitchen chair.

Jack climbed out of the oven and began sneaking to the door. On the way, he passed by the pimp's chair, and by his feet was the hen. Jack decided to grab the hen and get out. But when he took hold of the hen, it squacked and woke the giant pimp up. By that time, Jack had already hauled ass out of the house, and was on his way back to the beanstalk.

The golden eggs pretty much set him and his mom up for life, but Jack pulled a Mitt Romney, and decided that wasn't enough. So he tried his luck again. He climbed the beanstalk again and headed back to the sky-house.

He knew he couldn't just ask Laqueesha for more bread, so he snuck in through a door crack and hid in a bucket. The pimp was heard entering the house when he called to Laqueesha. "Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell a bitch-nigga."

"Well, if it's the same bitch-nigga that stole your gold and your hen, he'll be in the oven." she said.

"Good. Let's roast his ass." he replied. They both rushed over to the oven and saw that no one was there. Laqueesha shrugged it off, but the giant pimp began looking around for Jack. He never looked in the bucket, and the pimp sat back in his chair and ordered Laqueesha to bring him a golden harp. She got the harp and put it on the table.

"Play." he said, and the harp began playing the beat to "Bitches Aint Shit". The cloud-pimp fell asleep quickly, and Jack made his way to the table.

He grabbed the harp and made a dash for the door. Unfortunately for Jack, the harp decided to gain sentience and it called out to the pimp "Master, Master!" The pimp woke up at hearing his harp yell and chased Jack out.

Jack ran straight for the beanstalk, with the giant pimp close behind. The pimp made a few swings with the back of his hand, but Jack got out of the way. Before long, Jack reached the beanstalk and began climbing down as fast as his desire not to be slapped let him. The giant started climbing down too. When Jack reached the bottom, he called for his mom to get an ax.

When she got the ax to Jack, he began chopping away at the stalk.

"Eat! My! Dick! Bitch!" Jack yelled with each chop. The giant pimp noticed the beanstalk get weaker with each swing. The final swing came from Jack, and the beanstalk, along with the pimp, fell to the ground. The giant pimp broke his neck and didn't get up.

Jack showed his Mom the harp, and they became as rich as a white US senator. Jack ended up banging a princess, and they lived happily ever after...

Until Snickers the cow snuck into their house at night. Snickers creeped into Jack's room and closed the door. He then walked over to the bed of a sleeping Jack and talked.

"You forgot about me, didn't you?" Snickers whispered.

"Five beans? Five beans is all I'm worth to you, ya' son of a bitch?"

Jack just snored away.

"You don't know the kinds of things that old man did. I can never see car lubrication the same way again!"

Jack continued sleeping, unaware of the knife Snickers pulled out.

"Good bye Jack." he said, plunging his knife into Jack's neck. It was only seconds before he bled out and Snickers made his escape.

The moral of this story: if you mooch off government welfare, Uncle Sam is gonna fuck you up the ass. The end.

Ice Cube looked to the pony at the type-writer. The pony stopped typing and began giving his own applause. The children were soon to follow his clapping and some were cheering for the story. Even Cheerilee was openly showing praise. The chief-editor/terminator Word Life shed a single tear of joy, before joining in the applause also.

"Bravo, Mr Ice Cube. Bravo." he cheered.

Ice Cube felt like such a pimp at that moment.

In the lobby, Word Life pulled Ice Cube to the side while the children were getting ready to go.

"A fantastic story, Ice Cube. If you'll wait here, I'll retrieve your payment." Word Life said. Ice Cube nodded before looking over to the children. They were talking and laughing about the story they'd just heard. Ice Cube brought smiles to these kids' faces; and if they were happy, he was happy... unless it's Diamond Tiara. He couldn't give two shits about that bitch.

"Nah, keep the money. I don't need it."

"Are you sure?" Word Life asked. Ice Cube glanced back at the gleeful children.

"Yeah, I'm sure." with that, Ice Cube walked out with his head held high. He continued on with his chipper mood until he got home. Then he saw the huge hole where a third of his door was supposed to be. Then he remembered why he needed money in the first place.

"Shit."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

It was almost 24 hours since he told his story at the Ponyville Express, and he was anxious to see what would be on the paper. Ice Cube decided to wait in front of his home, so Derpy would see him and not crash into his door again. Sure enough, the mailmare appeared and landed in front of him without disaster.

"You've got news, Mr Ice Cube." Derpy said happily.

"Thanks, derps." Ice Cube opened the paper and looked for his story, while the clumsy pony flew off. Amazingly, a review of the story was put on the front page. Ice Cube flipped through and saw his story take up more than a page. Below the last paragraph was a long list of reviews. Ice Cube felt like he didn't deserve the wave of praise for his profane renditions of stories he didn't even create; especially the review that stated:

The most well-written and influential politically-charged story since George Horsewell's "Nineteen-Neighty-Four" and "Human Farm". Jack and the Beanstalk will take you on an epic journey with Jack, a down-on-his-luck bitch nigga who steals giants' stuff when they aren't looking. A true masterpiece of fiction.

Don't get him wrong, he did like the spotlight, but this was a little much. Nobody ever called "Fuck the Police" a masterpiece of song writing, although it does kick ass. The next review he read made Ice Cube just know Cheerilee was out there somewhere planning to kill him. It read:

That shit was the shit, nigga.

~Sweetie Belle, Ponyville Elementary.

"Ruh-roh."

Three Little Pigs

Author's Note

I'm not sure this chapter stands up to the humor of the other chapters. I also feel that I might have rushed it a bit. I'm not trying to undersell it, but that's what I get for writing it all so late at night.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

Even though Ice Cube was paranoid, he continued to walk the streets of Ponyville in his normal way. Ice Cube knew that there was a good chance Cheerilee was out for his blood, but he's dealt with worse than angry, colorful school-teachers. Though he had to admit that this world was a bit unsettling. All its inhabitants seemed too happy; too care-free. The way they just looked at you, smiled, and waved was way to friendly to be genuine. It was like happiness was a disease they all had no choice but to have, and there was a serial killer inside every one of them just waiting for someone to make them mad enough.

At least on Earth, you knew when someone wanted to kill you. he thought.

Ice Cube tried to stare deep into the soul of a pony who waved at him from across the street. He appeared to be nice enough, but Ice Cube's mind was still playing tricks on him.

"Hi Ice Cube." the stallion said, waving a hoof. However, Ice Cube's paranoid brain heard something along the lines of, "Hi. You better sleep with one eye open, nigger."

What?! Damn, the ponies are homicidal and racist.

Trying to get away from the ponies on the street, Ice Cube took an alley-way through town. Normally, he would just walk straight to the school, but he decided today that he'd rather be late than be shanked. He was more than surprised when he walked into the alley and was greeted by being slammed into the wall. Before Ice Cube could react, he was pinned to the wall with a bowie knife pressed against his neck. In front of him was a lavender pony with a pair of angry and familiar green eyes.

"Hi, Ice Cube. How was your day?" Cheerilee asked in a voice that made it sound like she finally snapped. Her left eye twitched a few times.

"Uh, okay. I know you're mad, but I didn't know Sweetie Belle would write that review. Didn't you go over what words they shouldn't say?" he asked nervously. He had his pistol in his belt holster today, but his arm was pinned as well. If it hadn't been, Cheerilee would have had a leg full of lead by then.

"Oh, don't worry about Sweetie Belle. I took care of her earlier." an evil grin worked across the insane mare's face.

It took Ice Cube all he had not to shit his pants.

"Remember when you told me that the last time you cried was decades ago, when your friend Eazy-E died?" Cheerilee asked. Ice Cube nodded confusedly.

"Then you should be thanking me." she said, slightly releasing the knife from his throat.

"Why?" he asked, in a loss of any more words.

"Because you'll see each other again for the first time since then." Cheerilee replied, quickly bringing the knife across Ice Cube's throat.

Ice Cube collapsed to the ground, clutching his throat, which was now bleeding profusely. His back was against the wall as he sat there at the mercy of Cheerilee. The crazy teacher in question was smiling at the scene, happy that the thing that corrupted her students' minds could do no more damage.

Ice Cube could feel himself beginning to fade into unconsciousness. Out of all the things that Ice Cube could have died by, it had to be at the hooves of a colorful, talking horse.

Cheerilee now walked closer to the near-expired rapper. "Now, Ice Cube; I would ask you for any last words, but I'm guessing that's difficult without a throat. Still, I have some words for you before you go."

Ice Cube looked up to the insane pony. He did his best to keep a stiff upper lip, despite his situation. He decided if he was going out, he would do it like a real nigga, and with some dignity. He would have spit in her face if not for the bleeding hole in his neck. Instead, he just mouthed the word 'what', with teeth still clenched.

The lavender pony put her maniacal-looking face closer to his and spoke.

"Wake up, Ice Cube!" she said in a bubbly voice that sounded nothing like Cheerilee. Ice Cube suddenly looked very confused.

"I said; wake up, Ice Cube!" the insane teacher's face morphed into a cheery, pink one. He lost his tough composure and let his jaw drop.

"I said; WAKE UP, ICE CUBE!"

"Huh? What? What the fuck?" Ice Cube woke up and looked around rapidly. Instead of bleeding to death in an alley, Ice Cube discovered he was sitting in a chair outside of a restaurant. In front of him was his shitty vegetarian sandwich he had been eating before his nap. The pony trying to wake him up was none other than Pinkie Pie.

"How long was I out? A couple hours?" Ice Cube asked Pinkie.

"No silly. A couple days." Pinkie said with a dismissive hoof. Ice Cube's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Just then, the French-sounding waiter approached his table.

"Ah, Monsieur, you're awake. I thought you might not wake up."

"Hey, it would have been fine if you woke me up after the first 24 hours." Ice Cube tried to yell, but was still too tired.

"I apologize. One of the chefs accidently confused the mayonaise with chloroform. After eating that much, I'm surprised you're still even alive, Monsieur." the waiter informed him.

"Chloroform? How the fuck do you confuse the two? One is white and gooey. One is clear and toxic. Why do you even keep chloroform in the kitchen?" Ice Cube asked. He wanted to be angry, but didn't have the energy.

"It's okay, Ice Cube. You're not dead, so why not have some fun? Here's a Pinkie Pie to cheer you up." Pinkie said, before another Pinkie Pie bounced into his line of sight. Ice Cube was used to Pinkie's shenanigans, but this was just bullshit.

"Pinkie, why are there two of you?" Ice Cube asked.

"Oh, you silly dice-shaped chunk of frozen water. There aren't two of me. There are 49 of me." Pinkie said with a smile. Ice Cube, however, was not smiling. Instead, he was almost sure he was either still dreaming or insane.

"Okay, why are there fourty-fucking-nine of you?"

"Well, it all started when I was born. It was a bleak and foggy day. My fath-"

"Just get to the part where you went amoeba on us." Ice Cube interrupted.

"Oh. I found a magical water mirror in a cave and used it to make copies of myself. Now, I can have fun with everyone all at once. Like a giant fungasm!"

Ice Cube wanted to respond to that, but he remembered he had kids to read to. Plus, he just didn't have the patience to deal with Ponyville's obvious shit-storm at the moment. He began his trek to the Ponyville Schoolhouse after telling Pinkie he was off to some place very boring. That was enough to deter Pinkie Pie and her hell-spawn clones. After letting his head recooperate from his two-day chloroform nap, he neared the school.

Something was wrong. Normally, the school would have recess around this time. And normally, there wouldn't be an array of sandbag barricades surrounding the front entrance. Getting closer to the school, he could see Cheerilee poke her head out from behind one of the sandbag barricades. She was wearing a combat helmet and carrying a squirt gun in her hooves. She didn't unload her watery fury on Ice Cube as soon as she saw him, so she couldn't have been that mad at him.

"Yo, Cheerilee." Ice Cube called out, approaching the teacher.

"Ice Cube, over here, quickly!" she said. Ice Cube decided to walk a little slower to mess with Cheerilee. She looked only slightly annoyed.

"So... why are there barricades around your school?" Ice Cube asked, poking on of the sandbags with a finger.

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but Pinkie Pie has sort of multiplied."

"Yeah, I did notice. The rate of Pinkie population growth is too damn high!" Ice Cube motioned with a finger in the air.

"For once, we agree on something."

"We agreed that Diamond Tiara was a bitch."

"Oh yeah, that too. This barricade and this water gun are meant to keep the Pinkie Pie's away from the children. Oh, and by the way; where were you two days ago when you were supposed to read to them?" Cheerilee asked.

"I got chloroformed by a Frenchie waiter."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Are you okay?" Cheerilee asked sincerely.

"I'm fine. Though I did have this dream that you slit my throat in an alley with a bowie knife."

Cheerilee stared at him for a few seconds. She continued staring before pointing the water gun at his pants, particularly around his junk area, and spraying it with water. Cheerilee giggled a bit before pointing a hoof towards the door.

"Please, come in." Cheerilee said, trying to repress her fit of giggling.

"Sounds great." Ice Cube growled.

Ice Cube stepped through the door and immediately noticed something was wrong. The children looked... bored.

"What the hell is wrong with yall?" Ice Cube asked. Normally, the kids weren't this stoic.

"Ms Cheerilee said there's an army of Pinkie Pah's, and if we have any fun, they'll come here and annoy us ta death." Applebloom asnswered.

"Did somebody say fun?" one of the Pinkie Pies popped out of Scootaloo's saddle-bag, followed by a few more popping out of different places around the room.

"AHH! They're gonna kill us! Ice Cube, distract them with a story!" Applebloom shouted.

Ice Cube was done with Ponyville's bullshit for today, so he decided on a short and sweet story to tell.

God dammit.

"The Three Little Pigs."

Once upon a time, there were three pigs who lived in South Central Los Angeles. They wanted to get houses of their own, but as they soon learned, housing in LA is expensive as fuck. So instead of buying houses, they decided to build their own, even though the third pig was the only one who knew how to build anything. The other two couldn't put together a goddam Lego set if their lives depended on it.

The first pig thought about what he could build his house out of. He decided it would be made out of sticks. The second pig thought about what he could use. The second pig decided on Q-Tips. The third pig thought about what he would use, and decided the house would be made of brick.

Something you need to know about the three little pigs; they were from East side LA. The reason I tell you that is because in their neighborhood, there lived a wolf. And this wolf was hardcore West side. I mean, he had a blue bandana, a blue holster, blue everything. Whichever of his testicles was closest to the West is the one he preffered. Well, this wolf didn't like the East side pigs all up on his turf. So, he decided to remove them himself.

Another thing; after years of smoking weed, and a small-to-medium amount of radiation, this wolf had the lung strength of a class-5 hurricane. The first pig with the stick house challenged him to try and break his house.

"Eyo, wolf. Eat a dick!" the pig said, pointing down to his pink piggie genitalia.

"Sheeit. I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your punk-ass house down." and with that, the wolf easily blew down the pig's house. The pig tried walking out of the wreckage, but was met with a kick to the chest from the wolf.

"Oh yeah! You were talkin' all that good shit a second ago. Then you got kicked in yo' chest! You eat a dick, nigga! You eat a dick!"

After pissing on the face of the first pig, the wolf moved on to the second's house. The second pig, whose house was made out of Q-Tips, gave a similar reaction to the wolf.

"Yo, wolf. Those are some big lungs you got. You compensating for something?"

"What? Nigga, I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your punk-ass house down."

When the wolf says he's gonna blow down your house, the wolf fucking does it. And it's said that the moment the second pig was trapped under the debris of a million ear-swabs was the moment he finally realized he was a dumbass.

Ice Cube looked around the classroom and saw that most of the kids had snuck out of the building, and the Pinkies were still captivated.

The wolf moved onto the third pig's house. This pig wasn't semi-retarded like the other two and he made his out of brick.The pig told the wolf to give it his best.

"Bitch, I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your punk-ass house down."

The wolf gave it the biggest breath he had, but the brick house didn't budge. He tried again, but the house remained upwards and the pig yelled for the wolf to suck his balls. The wolf thought for a moment and went to get something out of his trunk.

"Ha. I told you you couldn't blow my house down. This aint' no fucking Q-Tip house. This is brick; it's the real shit! Nothing is blowing down this house!" the pig yelled.

Soon after finishing his gloating, a molotov cocktail crashed through his window. The pig panicked and ran out of his front door while his house was burned to the ground. But the wolf was quick to catch the pig and break his legs.

The wolf decided to make an example of the third pig, and pulled out a pair of balls so large, it would make the Big Lebowski piss himself. It was recorded as the most devastating tea-bagging of all time. The wolf's nuts practically molded around the pig's face like an arm full of Gak. Afterwards, the third pig had to be put in a psychiatric ward, where the pig did nothing but crawl into the fetal position and mumble "the balls" over and over.

It was the only time a tea-bag has ever caused the victim to go insane, and it's just because that's how West Side rides. The end.

"Ooo, what's the moral?" one of the Pinkies asked.

"There is none." Ice Cube said simply. All the kids were evacuated and all that were left was him and the Pinkie clones. "I'm leaving now."

"No moral?!" the Pinkie's said in unison. The Pinkies converged on Ice Cube, who backed towards the door. They really wanted that moral.

Holy shit. Deja Vu.

"Look! An orgy!" Ice Cube yelled, pointing to the other side of the room.

"FUN!!!" the Pinkies squealed, turning around to see.

Ice Cube opened the school door and began to haul ass away from the building. One thing passed through his brain. Why would the Pinkie's even know what an orgy was? Ponies didn't have anything to have an orgy with. Or did they... Ice Cube didn't particularly wanna find out, but one thing was for certain.

I'm taking my gun everywhere I go from now. This was just Bull. Shit.

Pinocchio

Author's Note

And, as of now, THIS FIC HAS 100 LIKES! REJOICE! As you already may have heard, my chapters have been slow lately due to many things. As much as I enjoy writing these, it is very strenuous. I have a new story on the way, and I'd like to be working on that, as I think it has a lot of promise. So until I'm satisfied with the progress of the new story, this will be the last update you'll see. It will not be my last update in general, but this story is currently taking a break for a bit.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

It had been about a month and a half since Ice Cube came to Ponyville, but he hadn't forgotten about Earth. After a week of visiting Earth (mainly to escape the Pinkie-infested town from before), Ice Cube got a real sense of what was going on between ponies and humans. He had been seeing other humans around Ponyville before, and there were also some ponies living in the cities of Earth, which were generally enormous compared to pony cities.

The two races had gotten along fine. The ponies introduced magic to the humans, which eased life tremendously. The ability to control weather almost eliminated drought, and great strives to end hunger were made. In return, the ponies got many scientific and innovative technologies that provided opportunity for ponies of all races. Magic for ingenuity; yes it was going great. That's right, it turns out the human race had very little desire to conquer Equestria, and had intended more to form a friendly alliance with the beings who shared the universe with them. It's almost as if the Conversion Bureau is a load of shit.

Oh, and the ponies also got alcohol; which when mixed with poison joke, was like... wooaaah. Groovy.

Anyways, Ice Cube was back in Ponyville, and the children were no doubt wanting a story. Luckily for him, no crazy shit happened to him on his way to the school-house today. Just to make sure he wasn't in a chloroform dream, he pinched himself on the arm. Nope, not a dream. Still, Ice Cube packed his pistol in the holster just in case.

There didn't seem to be anything wrong with the school. And there weren't sounds of mass hysteria inside. Ice Cube wasn't used to days in Ponyville where nothing went wrong. He opened the school door with a confident enthusiasm.

"Yo, Cheerilee, I'm ba-" Ice Cube was cut off by the sight of Cheerilee. She had apparently turned into a stallion recently. Either that or they have a substitute. Probably the latter, but in this town, it's safe just to assume the weirdest.

"Hello. You must be Ice Cube." the substitute said with extremely little enthusiasm in his voice. The pony was gray and looked like the epitome of boredom. His eyelids were half-closed and his face didn't show a single bit of happiness or emotion. Even his cutie mark was dull. It appeared to be a yellow smiley face, just without the smile, instead having a straight line for a mouth.

"Uh, yeah. Who are you?" Ice Cube asked.

"John."

"You're name is John?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't sound like a pony name."

"I don't believe Ice Cube is a common Human name."

"Good point. Where's Cheerilee?"

"She's not here."

"No shit, really?" Ice Cube was getting bored just being around this pony. He was clearly having an effect on the foals. Some were playing with their pencils, some were sleeping, and Scootaloo was slamming her face on her desk. This pony had to be dealt with.

"Hey, I think there are donuts and coffee across town." Ice Cube said in a lame attempt to get the pony out unforcefully. He wasn't sure that the plan B he always had in store for cops would work on teachers, but it was worth a shot.

"I don't like donuts." the dull pony stated. Figures. Ice Cube went for a different approach.

"There's also some bread and water." Ice Cube tried.

"Hm. I could go for some bread and water. Thanks." the pony said in a monotone voice as he left the building.

That problem was dealt with, but the kids were still depressed. Ice Cube knew the solution.

"Story time, niggas!"

The children perked up a lot. A few of their smiles seemed to engulf their entire face. Diamond Tiara tried and failed to not look excited. Dumb bitch.

"Pinocchio."

There once was a man who worked as a woodsmith. I forgot his name, so we'll just call him Woody. Woody was old and lonely. His wife died years back and she never had children. She had so many failed pregnancies and failed births, they used to call her Miss Carriage. He didn't have many friends either, since everyone in town thought he was crazy. Most of the time, he would just sit on his porch and call passing kids 'whippersnappers' while shaking a cane at them.

Woody coped with his lonliness by making wooden dolls and giving them names like Sweetie Pie, Carrot Cake and Sugar-Tits. It helped him through his day-to-day normally, but having your only friends be lifeless dolls will get to you eventually. One night, he made a wooden doll that he named Pinocchio. In the sky, he could see a shooting star, which actually isn't a star at all.

"Wait. You're telling me that shooting stars aren't actually stars?" Scootaloo asked questionably.

"Yep." he replied, trying to get back to the story.

"That's a lie." said Diamond Tiara.

"No it's not. Look, can we get back to the-"

"Then what are they?" asked Sweetie Belle.

"Ugh. They're space rocks that burn up before they hit the ground. Now let-" Ice Cube said, being cut off again.

"Why do they burn up?" Apple Bloom asked.

"Because they do! Just let me-" Ice Cube was being interrupted again, and the questions were coming at him full force now.

"Do they get hurt when they burn up?"

"Do they ever hit the ground?"

"Will the space rocks kill us if they hit the ground?"

"Will they rape us first?"

"What's rape?"

"I think it's how babies are made."

"Ice Cube, how are babies made?"

"Who?" "What?" "Where?" "Why?" "How?" "Space rocks?" "Rape?" "Babies?" "Ice Cube?" "Ice Cube?" "Ice Cube" "Ice Cube!?" "Ice Cube!?!?" "ICE CUBE!?!?" "ICE CUBE!?!?"

*BANG*

The kids screamed in shock and stared at Ice Cube, who's pistol was facing upward, a small bit of smoke leaving the barrel. The room was dead silent until Ice Cube spoke up.

"Good! Now sit down, shut up, and enjoy my God damn story!" Ice Cube ordered, putting his gun back in it's holster. The kids seemed to get the message and kept their mouths closed. "Thank you. As I was saying."

The old man saw the space rock and made a wish. He wished that Pinocchio would become a real boy. When Woody went to sleep, the space rock came down and entered the house. I don't know how that happens, but it does. It cast one of its space rock spells on Pinocchio and gave him life. Though he was still a wooden doll, Pinocchio was alive, and that was something at least.

"I'm a real boy!" Pinocchio said excitedly.

"Actually, you're an animate piece of wood shaped like a real boy, but you aint' a real boy." the space rock told him.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Rocky: your friendly neighborhood space debris and personal guardian."

"Really? Damn. Do you sing?"

"What? Hell no. I don't even have a mouth."

"Then how are you talking?" Pinocchio asked.

"Well, um... fuck you, that's why."

"Look, just how do I become a real boy?"

"First, you have to stop being a piece of wood."

"Fuck you too." Pinocchio retaliated.

"I'm kidding, homeboy. First step: you have to prove you'll be a good person. Second step... Third step: Profit."

"I like profit."

"Then you better get to being a good person. Oh, and to keep tabs, I'll be putting this truth spell on you too." the space rock said before casting it. The rock shook a bit and stopped.

"There, you are now bound to tell the truth."

"What does it do?" Pinocchio asked inquisitively.

"Go ahead. Tell a lie." urged the space rock.

"Um, okay. Obama is a great president." Pinocchio said. Just then his dick grew long and hard... or was it his nose? Hell if I know. Let's just go with nose. His nose grew.

"See? Tell another." said the space rock.

"The other brothers actually can deny that they like big butts." again, his nose grew.

"Wrong. The other brothers can't deny. Baby got back!"

"Wow, your spell works. Okay, what now?" Pinocchio asked.

"I dunno. What do I look like; your fuckin' secretary? Figure it out. It's your journey, not mine."

"Okay, so where are some people I can be good to?"

"Try the strip club."

"Not a bad place to start." and with that, Pinocchio was on his way to the strip club.

When he arrived, he didn't notice anything that needed fixing, but there was a scantily clad woman standing in front of the strip club who seemed a little down. Pinocchio decided she would be first on his list of people to be good to. She was leaning up against a light pole when Pinocchio approached her.

"Hi, I know this might be weird for you, seeing as how I'm a talking doll and everything, but I couldn't help but to notice you're looking pretty suicidal right about now. Don't worry, I've come to ease your pain. Do tell, what sand has crawled up your barely-covered vagina?"

"It's my pimp. I've barely made any money today and when he finds out... I don't even wanna think about it." the hooker said with head held low. "But that's what I get for being a good-for-nothing prostitute anyway."

Pinocchio didn't want to admit it, but he had no clue what a prostitute was. Instead of telling her and making himself look stupid, he decided to roll with it to make her feel better.

"Don't talk like that. I know plenty of good prostitutes." Pinocchio sympathized. His nose grew longer, though.

"Really?" The prostitute asked, not noticing the size of his nose.

"Oh yeah. Plenty. Even my Mom was a prostitute." his nose continued to grow.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmm. She even got an apprenticeship in high school. She was quite the novice in prostitutism. She helped kids with it too, and they all turned out to be great prostitutes."

"Are you serious?" the prostitute asked with worry.

"Am I serious? Is the Pope Catholic?"

"Uh, maybe you shouldn't be telling me th-"

"The answer is yes; the Pope is Catholic." Pinocchio said. To his surprise, his nose grew. "Woah... mindfuck."

"Did your nose just grow?" asked the woman of ill repute.

"Yes, yes it did. That's not important. What is important is me helping you. Now how can I do that?"

"Well, you can help get my pimp off my back." the prostitute replied.

"Sure thing. How do I do that?" Pinocchio asked.

"Well, come with me and I'll show you." the prostitute than walked Pinocchio down the avenue to an apartment, where they wouldn't leave for another half hour. Upon exiting the apartment, Pinocchio was wiping his giant nose with a towel, and the prostitute was the first to speak.

"Wow, that was amazing." she said, buttoning up her jacket. "I didn't know a nose could do that."

"Me neither. I didn't know you could do that with ping pong balls. You should be in the olympics." Pinocchio said.

"Thanks."

"But I still don't understand how this helps get your pimp off your back."

"Well, because you kinda have to pay me now."

"Huh? Pay you? You never said anything about me having to pay you." Pinocchio said with confusion.

"Well, yeah. What did you think that was for?" the prostitute asked in awe of his ignorance.

"I dunno. I'm like, 5 hours old. Also, I'm a doll. I don't have any money."

"Well, then I don't see how you've helped me."

"If so, then my services are no longer required." Pinocchio said. He walked away with a smile and a head held high. He was ready for the next pedestrian that needed help. The prostitute watched him go and sighed.

Pinocchio was strolling down the street in search of anyone who needed his assistance. He couldn't get over the fact that his nose had been smelling like fish since helping the prostitute, but that was the least of his worries. A few minutes passed and Pinocchio walked by a very troubled-looking man sitting on a bench.

"Hey mister, you look like shit. How can I help?" Pinocchio asked with a smile. His nose grew again.

"Dammit, nose, I didn't mean literal shit." Pinocchio whispered to his appendage. A few seconds went by and his nose shrunk a little.

"Wow, a talking doll. Well for starters, you could kill that guy over there." the man said, pointing a finger at another man moving things inside a house across the street.

"What? Why would I do that? That isn't a good thing to do." Pinocchio retorted.

"Kid, trust me when I say that bastard deserves everything he gets. The world will be a better place without him."

"Sorry, but I'm not sure I should do that."

"You said you wanted to help me, right?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"But nothing. If you want to help, this is how you do it. Besides, the law doesn't say anything about a doll killing someone; not that the asshole can be classified as a human being, but I digress."

"Um... okay." Pinocchio said quietly. He took a nervous walk down the street, looking back to the man, who urged him forward. Pinocchio was in a near panic. On one hand, he would be helping someone; but on the other, he'd be murdering someone.

'WhatDoIDoWhatDoIDoWhatDoIDoWhatDoIDoWhatDoIDo' he thought.

In his rapid thoughts, he didn't realize he had already crossed the street. Before he could react, the man he was sent to kill tripped over Pinocchio's giant nose and fell backwards, along with the large television he was lifting, which fell on his chest. The man lied on the ground moaning in pain, but tried to get up anyway. After the man was on his feet, Pinocchio tried to console him on his injury. The man insisted that he was fine, but was stumbling dizzily all over the place. Eventually he stumbled into the street and Pinocchio tried to warn him.

"Sir, you're in the street. Hurry up and get out."

"I told you, I'm fine. I'm gonna be oka-" the man was cut off by a station wagon to the side. He was thrown quite a few yards away and Pinocchio could only gape in horror as the man did not get up.

Pinocchio continued to stare at the scene before looking over to the man on the bench, who gave a smile and a thumbs up. Pinocchio, in shock, continued on his way to find other people to help, though unsure of how well it was working. The man on the bench ran to catch up with him.

"Hey, nice work, kid. Here's twenty bucks. Don't spend it all in one place." the man said before parting ways. "That'll teach him not to look at me funny."

Pinocchio eyed the twenty dollar bill in his hand. He could always go back and pay the prostitute like she wanted. Then again, he could just go to the bar and drown his sorrow. Like any sensible person would, he chose the high road and went to the bar.

At the local brewery, Pinocchio was busy drinking his troubles away. After finishing the fifth beer, he motioned for the bartender to come over to him.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" the bartender asked, cleaning a glass as he did.

"Don't you think you should mind your own business?" Pinocchio said with a drunken drawl. "You know the deal, Jack. One bourbon, one scotch, one beer."

The bartender shook his head and walked off to serve another customer. Pinocchio looked up from his drunken stupor to see a black man sulking further down the bar. Pinocchio got up onto his feet and was barely able to stumble over to the man. He propped himself onto a seat next to the man and sat for a few minutes before speaking.

"Hey, buddy, you're looking down." Pinocchio said.

"My woman left me. Kicked me out of my own house." the man's deep voice was soothing to Pinocchio's, er... let's call them 'ears'.

"Yeah? I know that feel; I just killed somebody."

"Wait, what?"

"Yep. One second I'm walking, the next second, he trips on my nose and splat."

"Damn. I'm pretty sure I don't know that feel."

"You should be happy about that. So anyways, is there any asinine task I should do for you to help you."

"Help me? I'm pretty sure the court would side with me anyway. I'll survive. However, you might need my help. Why are you so intent on helping me anyway?" the man asked in his smooth, black voice.

"Because if I help enough people, I can become a real boy."

"Hm. A real boy, huh? What's your name, son?" he said with a friendly smile.

"Pin-cock-macchiato." Pinocchio forgot his actual name in his drunkenness.

"Well, Pin-cock-macchiato, it's well and good that you want to help people, but sometimes you just need to stop looking, and let someone help you." he emphasized the 'you' with a gentle finger on Pinocchio's wooden arm.

"Let others help me?" Pinocchio pondered.

"Yes, Pin-cock-macchiato. Sometimes, to help others, you have to let others help you."

"He's right you know." behind them floated the space rock that sent him on this three-hour journey. "You have to let others change your life before you can change others'."

"So you're saying that all this time, I've tried so hard to improve others' lives, but I should have taken some time to get a perspective?" Pinocchio asked.

"You got it, little man." the black man said with a smile.

"That's right." the space rock aknowledged.

"That... that's the gayest thing I've ever heard." Pinocchio said.

"Well, you get it at least. And that's the minimum requirement, so I'll just turn you into a real boy now." said the space rock.

"Sweet."

The space rock shook a little more and Pinocchio's wooden form began to change into the body of a real boy. After the ritual was complete, Pinocchio looked down to see that his pants were no longer painted onto him and he could physically look into them.

"Hey space rock, I think you put my long nose into my pants."

The space rock chuckled and reassured him. "No. That, my good boy, is a penis."

"Oooo, peniiis. So what happens now?" Pinocchio asked, removing his eyes from his new favorite appendage.

"Well, I was only your personal guardian until you finished your quest, which is now. So I guess I should just be going." the space rock floated towards the door.

"But wait, who's gonna be my guardian now?" Pinocchio asked.

"Chill, nigga. This good fellow here will be your personal guardian." the rock motioned towards the black man before flying out the door of the bar. The pedestrians and bartender had already left at the sight of a talking meteor.

"Wait, what. But he's just a normal guy." Pinocchio called out. The black man in question held out a piece of paper towards Pinocchio, who took it and saw it was a phone number.

"Well, guess I'd better be going now. Good bye, Pin-cock-macchiato." the man said, turning walking for the door. Now, Pinocchio could see the man was very overweight.

"What? But I don't even know who you are yet."

"Any time you need me, you know what number to call." the man said on his way to the door.

"Oh and by the way..." he said, turning back to Pinocchio.

"The name's Biggie." the man tipped his hat and vanished into the air as a ghost would.

Pinocchio was stunned, but had a new sense of resolve. He walked... well, he stumbled out of the bar, ready for anything life had to throw at him. He raised his head into the air and yelled with all his willpower.

"GET READY WORLD! CAUSE PIN-COCK-MACCHIATO IS HERE TO FUCK YOUR ASS!"

Pinocchio then passed out drunken on the sidewalk, where a homeless man took his socks.

After waking up, he went to live with Woody happily for the rest of his life. Well, until he turned 18, when he moved out. But after that, he lived happily for the rest of his life.

And I mean it this time. No rapes or murders. The end.

The kids looked confusedly at each other for a moment before Sweetie Belle spoke up.

"No rapes or murders? But... you always have rapes and murders in your stories."

The group of school-ponies gave a collective disappointed "Awww".

"What? You kids are fucked in the head." Ice Cube said.

"But it just didn't match up to the other stories." Silver Spoon replied.

"Well, I thought I'd shake it up. Besides, there was plenty of cursing, and there was one murder." Ice Cube pleaded his case.

"That's true. Maybe we're just getting too used ta yer stories, ya know?" Applebloom said.

"Yeah. Maybe you should take a break from reading. Just for a little bit, so we can have something to look forward to." Sweetie added.

"I guess. Well, I'll see you little niggas another day then." Ice Cube gave his farewells before opening the door to the school house.

"Bye nigga!" Twist shouted.

"Bye nigga!" the other kids repeated. Ice Cube waved a hand and closed the door behind him before realizing there was no one there to teach them.

Ice Cube continued on his way home, thinking what he would do for a couple weeks in place of telling stories.

I could teach some ponies around town how to rap. Ice Cube thought, a smile forming on his face. He'd already made up his mind on the matter.

Dis' is gon' be good.

Hansel and Gretel

Ice Cube walked out of Bob's Burger Shack, content with his lunch. After Humans and Ponies made contact, it wasn't long before supply met demand, and meat-selling restaurants popped up in Equestria. With a belly full of beef, Ice Cube took back every bad thing he said about Capitalism. Capitalism was damn tasty.

Ice Cube walked through the market before seeing a familiar pony behind a stand. The gray pony that was almost always an accessory to Diamond Bitch's endeavors, sat there, swirling a spoon in a bowl of soup.

Ice Cube was neutral towards Silver Spoon. She was only a bitch when she was around Diamond Tiara. And that ho wasn't around. Out of curiosity, he walked over to the stand. Silver Spoon looked up to see the rapper coming.

"Eyo, what's the haps, homie?" Silver Spoon asked. Ice Cube got used to this kind of thing, ponies talking like him, but nopony used ebonics like Diamond Tiara. She threw black slang around so much, it would make Tupac's hologram jealous.

"Nothin' much. What the fuck is this?" he said, pointing to the soup.

"Makin' my cream, yo. I took your advice, and now I'm makin' dough off eatin' soup."

"They pay you to eat soup?" Ice Cube asked increduously.

"Damn straight. Watch." Silver Spoon dipped her utensil in the soup, and with one motion, flung a string of soup into the air. She jumped up with a back-flip and skillfully caught the liquid in her mouth.

"Wha- how the fuck did you do that?" he asked, mouth agape.

"I can demonstrate my shit again, sure. But it'll cost ya'." Silver Spoon stuck out a hoof.

"You're gonna go far, kid." Ice Cube said sarcastically, looking around. "Where's Diamond Bitch? Aren't you always with her sorry ass?"

"Oh, dat bitch? Please, nigga, I dropped that shit like it was hot. She was dragging me down, treatin' me like I was her ho or somethin'. I wasn't havin' that shit, dawg. You know what I mean?"

"I hear you, fool." Ice Cube nodded.

"And now that I got the ball and chain off, I'm makin' cash flow, my brotha."

A lone tumbleweed rolled past them, and Ice Cube swore he heard a cricket nearby.

"Aaight', so it's been a slow day. But these ponies'll come around. Besides, I gotta go to school anyway. A real nigga gotta get an education."

School? She still had a lot to learn about the streets.

"I'll check ya later, Cube." Silver Spoon trotted off towards the school house.

"Peace." Ice Cube went his own way.

It wasn't bad having a pony around that talked like him, even if it was a girl, and no older than 10. Ice Cube didn't know the effect he would have on Ponyville. After his story got put in the paper, words like 'nigga', 'bitch', and 'ass-captain' were thrown around on a daily basis. There weren't many ponies in Los Angeles. So if the ponies wouldn't come to South Central LA, Ice Cube was gonna bring South Central LA to the ponies.

The Ponyville plaza was bustling, ponies hurried to get to work. Ice Cube, however, was currently jobless. The idea to teach ponies how to rap had backfired. This was Ponyville. There were no police to shoot, no projects to rep, and no bitches to bone. What is a poor gangsta rapper to do when there's nothing to get pissed off at?

He thought for a moment while he watched the sky have a seizure. Grey clouds were aligning theirselves in a checkerboard pattern, leaving square patches of sunlight adjacent to square patches of cloud.

What the fuck?

Across the street was a white pony using her magic to move the clouds into the strange positions. Ice Cube was going to ask her why she was doing this, but knowing Ponyville, he'd probably just get some bullshit answer like "magic", or "friendship", or "ancient God of Chaos".

He decided to ignore it, and ponder his joblessness. Rapping was pretty much the one thing he had a lot of talent in, and gangsta rap didn't really work out in Equestria. The only other thing he did really well was reading to the pony kids. Ice Cube got wide eyed, and pulled out his phone. It was mid February, and the last time he read a story was early December.

Three months? Holy fuck, had it really been that long?

Ice Cube knew what he had to do, or at least what he had to do for the next 15 minutes or so. And off he went, to where he could kill a little time, and insult Diamond Bitch to his heart's content.

"Okay, so can anypony tell me, if a gas that is at 33 degrees Celcius and 100 kiloPascals is heated to 75 degrees Celcius, what is the new pressure?" Cheerilee asked her class.

"227.27?" Applebloom answered.

"Nope. Did you remember to convert Celcius to Kelvins?"

"Oops."

"But Miss Cheerliee, you didn't give us the volumes for either." Sweetie Belle spoke up.

"If the volumes aren't included, just forget about them."

"Well, that's stupid."

Cheerilee watched the bored students work on their assignment in silence until someone knocked on the schoolhouse doors. Cheerilee went to see who it was. She was not pleased to see them.

Faust damn it.

"Ice Cube. What brings you here?" she asked with a forced smile.

"Yeah, hi to you too." he said sarcastically, walking past her into the classroom.

The kids looked up to find their hearts almost exploding into a million happy little pieces.

"ICE CUBE!" they erupted into a sea of smiles. Chemistry work was pushed off of desks, some of them even balled up and thrown around the room as paper projectiles.

Cheerilee watched the scene, feeling slightly defeated. What could Ice Cube do that combined gas laws couldn't?

"Alright little niggas, it's story time."

"YAY!" the students yelled.

"Story time? I love story time!" Pinkie Pie popped her head out of one of Cheerilee's desk drawers.

"No, no, no." Cheerilee stopped them. "We have to go over Stoichiometry, and then we have a quiz. Sorry, Ice Cube, but no stories today."

"Awww." the class moaned.

"But Miss Cheerilee, it's been forever since we heard one." Scootaloo testified.

"Yeah, come on Miss Cheerilee. Can we please hear one?" said Sweetie Belle.

"Pleeeaase?" whined Apple Bloom.

"Pleeeeeaaase?" Pinkie's face came within inches of Cheerliee's, her neck stretching to unholy length.

"No."

Every face in the room except Ice Cube's and Cheerliee's had pleading eyes and stretched bottom lips. The annoyed teacher gave a deep sigh.

"Fine."

"YAY!" the children screamed. Pinkie jumped into the air, small fireworks bursting around her for no specific reason.

Ice Cube took a seat in his story-telling stool. He had to think for the name of his story.

What was the story with the two German kids that met a pedophile in the woods? he thought. Handson and Goebbels? Yeah, that's it.

"Handson and Goebbels."

In the days of old, there lived a lumberjack and his hoe in a cottage, with their two adopted German kids named Handson and Goebbels. The lumberjack worked all damn day, but was still poor as shit. I mean like, mothafucka was poorer than an LA hooker. And let me tell you right now, they are poor. His ho only stuck around because they lived in a forest. Aint no pimps in a forest.

"Laqueesha, what da fuck are we gon' do? We broke. I aint got no money, and we runnin' out of food." the lumberjack said to his hoe. "Who da fuck is gon' feed the kids?"

"Nobody. Let's just drop them in the forest somewhere, and let them take care of themselves."

"Bitch, dat's fuckin' stupid."

"Fine. You can sit your poor ass down and starve." said the ho. "Imma kill the little motherfuckers."

They didn't know Handson and Goebbels were listening outside the door.

"Well, we fucked." Goebbels said, lighting a fat blunt.

"Maybe not. I have an idea." Handson replied, creepin' his German-nigga ass into their bedroom. He went into his sister's drawer and searched.

"Found em'." he said, pulling out a handful of joints.

"Nigga, what da fuck are you doin' with my weed?" Goebbels demanded.

"You wanna smoke, or you wanna live?"

Goebbels hesitated to answer. "Gimme some time to think about dat. Why you need my weed anyway?"

"I'll show you in the morning. Just try to get your munchies over with now."

So they slept through a whole night without a single gram of chronic. There were no urges to eat everything in the pantry. Goebbels hated it. But it would be worth it the next morning.

"Hey, shortys, get yo' raggety asses outta bed!" the ho yelled at the sleeping Aryans.

"Bitch, I'm tryin' to sleep." Goebbels said, before being pulled out of bed.

Then the kids walked into the kitchen, Handson made sure the weed was still in his pocket.

"Getchyo damn jackets on." she demanded. Handson looked at their father, who was layed back with a lit blunt in his mouth. He clearly just had sex.

"Damnit, she bent Dad to her will." Handson whispered to Goebbels.

After getting their kicks and hoodies on, the ho took them outside, and started walking them into the forest. Handson felt in his pocket for a joint, and threw it on the ground about 30 feet away from the house. The ho walked their asses deeper into the forest, and every minute, he would drop another joint onto the ground. About forty minutes passed before Goebbels noticed what he was Handson was doing. She no gusta.

"Nigga, da fuck are you doin' with my weed." Goebbels whispered.

"Savin' our lives. bitch."

"How is wastin' my weed gonna save us?"

"I'll tell you later. Just shut the fuck up and follow the ho."

And they did. For 5 goddam hours. It was almost night time what the ho stopped at a small clearing deep in the woods.

"Aaight. This is where you'll be sleeping." she said.

"In the woods? You crazy, bitch?" Goebbels replied.

"I ain't nobody's bitch." the ho yelled back.

"Bitch, you everybody's bitch. You like the community bitch. Or the communism bitch. Everybody gets some."

"Fuck you." the ho threw down some firewood and sleeping bags into the middle of the clearing. "I am a grown-ass woman. I ain't gon' tolerate this bullshit from a little white punk."

"Grown-ass is right. What, did you stuff packing peanuts into yo' butt or something? You look like you got Tyler Perry's ass."

"Wh- you're too young to even have an ass, bitch. I ain't havin' this."

"You ain't havin' what? All the food in the house? Too late, you already did, fatass."

"You know what, screw this. I'm outta here. I hope a bear comes and rips yo' tits off." the ho stomped away from the clearing.

"Yeah, well at least I have tits, ya double-A nympho!" Goebbels yelled back at the retreating ho.

She laughed for a minute or two before solemnly saying "Well, we're fucked".

"Not really. I laid out the joints on the ground when we were walking, so we could follow them back to the house." Handson said with pride.

"If it doesn't work, and I lose my weed, I'm gonna have to kill you."

"Don't worry about it. There'll be more weed when we get back home. Let's just light the fire and go to bed."

Goebbels took out her lighter and set fire to the wood. When it was dark, they both layed in the clearing to try to get some sleep. Goebbels was the one to break the silence.

"I can't go to sleep, Handson."

"I don't care." he mumbled from underneath his sleeping bag. "Just try to."

"But I can't stop thinking about my weed. It's out there, cold and alone."

"Oh for fucks sake. Is there anything you think of other than weed?"

Goebbels thought about the question. The only thing that crossed her mind was 'weed weed weed weed weed weed weed'.

It turned out that weed was literally thing she could think about.

"No." she replied to her brother's question.

"You need to cut down on the drugs. I swear, your like Jimmy fuckin' Hendrix. Turn around, catch you drowning in your own puke."

Goebbels was silent after that, and they both eventually went to sleep.

The next morning, Handson woke Goebbels up and they both went to follow the trail of joints. There was only one problem: the last joint he layed down wasn't there.

"Uhhhhhh." he muttered to himself. Goebbel's eyes widened.

"Nigga, where's the joint?"

Handson looked all around, but didn't see any weed.

"Oh shit, they must have blown away in the wind." he said.

Goebbel's left eye twitched a bit. "Remember how I said I was gonna kill you if it didn't work?"

Handson reached into his pocket and felt something. He pulled out two leftover joints and handed one to Goebbels.

"Well, it turns out we are fucked. But two last joints between friends." Handson said to his sister.

Goebbels was still mad as hell, but she couldn't turn down weed. So they lit up the doobies, and in a couple hours, became two giggling, bumbling idiots.

"And so I said-" Handson said, interrupted by his own chuckle. "And so I said 'that's not a ruler, that's my dick."

Goebbels snickered and laughed madly, as if it was the funniest joke ever told. In a sober state, it wouldn't have been funny, but weed makes everything funny. Even the Holocaust if you tell them the nazis sounded like Christopher Walken.

"Aw shit. Dude, I'm hungry as fuck." Goebbels said to her brother, who chuckled at her simple statement.

"I know, man. We gotta go find something to eat."

So the two walked to no particular destination, snickering and laughing at every mothafucking thing they walk past. After a couple hours, their munchies were getting worse. Lucky for them, they walked into another clearing. This one had a house. Not just any house. A house made out of doritos, and Pop Tarts, and bean burritos, and cereal, and tacos, and Cheez-Its, and Fruit by the Foot; everything that a stoner needs to cure their munchies.

"Woah, Goebbels. Did you put something in this weed?" Handson said, looking at what he thought was a hallucination.

"Nah man, thats- that's an actual house made of snack foods!"

"Halle-fuckin'-lujah!"

The two started eating chunks of different parts of the house. They went fucking nuts on it. Goebbels gnawed on the Pop-Tart fireplace, and Handson got done chomping on a waffle brick, before he heard someone on the inside.

"Who's that outside?" an elderly man asked. Handson and Goebbels were frozen in place. An old white man stumbled out of his front door. The man saw them and gave a chuckle.

"You two seem hungry, seeing as how you're eating my home. Would you like to come in? I have milk."

"Milk? Hell yeah. Got any purp drank?" Handson asked, following the old man. Goebbels stopped him in his tracks.

"Wait a minute. I don't trust this guy." she whispered into his ear. "He doesn't care if we eat his house, he invites us in like nothing happened, and where does a mothafucka get all this food anyway? I'm tellin' ya, he's bad shit."

"Don't jump to conclusions yet. Just wait and see if anything happens. In the mean time, I can hear purp drank callin' my name."

The two walked inside, where there were a couple glasses of milk on the table. The kindly old man was brewing tea on a kettle.

"Tea, huh? Suspicious-ass mothafucka." Goebbels muttered to herself. Handson ignored her and took a gulp of his drink.

"So, bangin' place you got here." he pointed out.

"Yes, I inherited it when someone shot all the Keebler Elves who lived in this cottage. It uh, wasn't me though." the old man replied.

"Coolio."

Goebbels was preoccupied examining the kitchen, and her arm accidentally knocked her milk over.

"Oh shit. Yo, my bad." Goebbels said.

"No, it's quite alright. Just get a mop from the closet for me. Down the hall, third door on the left."

Goebbels did what he told her, and opened the closet. Her eyes widened as mops were not the only thing inside. Bibles, catholic robes, and pictures of the Pope sat on the shelves. Goebbels grabbed the mop and quickly shut the door. She had to tell Handson.

"And that was how I shot- I mean met Martin Luther King." the old man finished his story to Handson.

"Damn. Did he like grape drank?"

"Oh, did he ever! And chicken too."

Handson chuckled and continued drinking. Goebbels gave the old man the mop, and took Handson out side.

"Handson, we got our asses a problem."

"A problem? Damn straight we got a problem. I was about to hear a story about how Reverend King liked fried chicken, and yo' ass is draggin' me away. That's the problem."

"No, really. I went in the closet, and I found Bibles, pictures of the Pope and all kinds of other shit."

"And?"

"Handson? He's a Catholic priest." she whispered.

"Yeah, and? Catholic grape drank still tastes like grape drank to me."

"Nigga, do you know what happens to kids around Catholic priests? Molestation, that's what?"

"Bitch, you fuckin' crazy. Unless you have some proof, Imma go back inside."

Handson walked into the cottage, followed by Goebbels. Goebbels took the opportunity of the old man being distracted by Handson to investigate. She looked in the closet again. There was nothing to rapey. She checked the bathroom, but that was clear too. She did the same thing for almost every room, and she was about to give up. Tired as hell, she leaned against a bookshelf. It shifted with her weight, and Goebbels got suspicious.

She slid the bookshelf over with all her strength. Behind it was a hole in the wall, leading into another room. She walked in and felt for a light switch. Once she got the lights on, she almost shit her pants in terror. Fuzzy handcuffs, gags, viagra, and lubricants of all kinds lined the walls. She tried to slowly step back from the scene. She heard the clang of a metal object to her head, fell over, and passed out.

When Goebbels woke up, she was in a dark room with a splitting headache. She looked around, but it was too dark to see anything. A few minutes later, she heard locks being unlocked from the other side of what was obviously a door. The door opened, and the old man pushed Handson in with her.

"You kids these days, always disrespecting your elders, not letting them have sex with you? Who else am I gonna bone out here in the woods?"

The old man shut the door, making it dark again. Goebbels and Handson sat silently for a few more minutes before Goebbels piped in.

"I told ya, dumbass."

"Shut the fuck up, and help me find a way out." Handson replied. He thought hard before remembering something.

"Wait a minute. This whole building is made of food." he said. Handson walked over to a wall on his right and licked it.

"Fuckin' sugar wafers." he said. Handson punched the brittle wall, revealing sunlight on the other side.

"Quick, lets get the hell outta here before he gets back." said Goebbels.

Handson punched and kicked the wall until there was a hole big enough to fit through. After they were out, the two walked away from the scene. The man was like, 60 years old, he wasn't gonna run them down. Unless he was secretly Kenyan. That would suck.

"And that's why you don't trust old white people, or Catholic priests, or any Catholics for that matter." Goebbels said to her brother, who left without any grape drank.

With all the food they shoved in their pockets, it would last a few days, though they were completely out of weed. After a while of wandering aimlessly, and weedlessly through the forest, they found their parents' house. They knew they should have felt glad to be home, but then they remembered that they were still broke and the ho still wanted them dead.

"Aw fuck it." They thought, walking through the front door. Their dad was sitting at the table, drowning his sorrows in cheap vodka. Not even the good stuff. It was practically store-brand.

"Dad?" Handson said. The dad looked up and smiled a big dumbass smile.

"Holy mothafuckin' tit shit. Kids... come- come 'ere. I wa- I wanna give you a- a hug." he said drunkenly. He tried to get out of the chair, but fell onto his face.

"Dad, where's the ho?" Goebbels asked.

"Oh, her? She- she ran away. And by ran away, I mean I killed her and threw her body in the river. Show of hands, who's gonna miss her?"

Nobody raised their hands.

"Didn't think so."

"Oh, dad." Handson said, pulling him into a big hug. It was pretty gay, and Goebbels was quick to point it out.

"You two are the biggest faggots I have ever known."

After that day, things went smoothly. With the ultra-bitch gone, their dad could invest in new, hotter bitches. And with time, he became the most successful pimp in the area. Goebbels grew up to raise one of the largest marijuana farms in the country. Handson became a well-renowned food critic, tasting everything from the finest grape drank to the most eloquent fried chicken. Yes, things seemed to be going well for the pimp and his German adopted kids.

But out there was still an old Catholic child molester. He was mad, and he was going to have his vengeance. If it was the last thing he did, one day, those kids would get fucked. With no vaseline.

When Ice Cube was done, Pinkie Pie's face came to mere centimeters away.

"So did they get raped?" Pinkie asked.

I'll leave it to the imagination." Ice Cube said.

"What's a Catholic?" Scootaloo asked next.

"Are they part of that Ku-Kluckers-Flan you were warnin' us about the other day?" asked Apple Bloom.

"Are the dad and Handson actually gay?" asked Sweetie Belle.

"What does gay mean?" Silver Spoon piped in.

"What's a kiloPascal?" Snails said.

"Why do we have to learn Chemistry?" Snips asked.

"Why do Humans wear pants all the time?" asked Pipsqueak.

Ice Cube listened to the rapid-fire questions in awe. The conversation went off the rails faster than an internet thread. Somewhere in the chaos, a pony with a few hat asked what a clitoris was.

How the fuck did they get off topic so quick? he thought to himself.

Suddenly, the class seemed to go quiet. They were staring at Ice Cube, agape. He looked to a startled Cheerilee, and then down at his legs. For seemingly no reason, magic enveloped him and glowed brighter every second.

"What. The. Fuck." he said to himself. He felt himself demolecularize at the behest of whoever was using the magic. Ice Cube finally decided, he fucking hated this town. It was pain free, but in moments, Ice Cube could tell he wasn't going to be in the schoolhouse much longer. He closed his eyes, and waited for whatever stupid-ass thing Equestria had in store this time.

In a moment, Ice Cube was gone. Among the silent gaping mouths, Cheerilee muttered, "Holy shit."

"Miss Cheerilee!" the class yelled.

"Watch yer language." Apple Bloom scorned. "Yer setting a bad example for us."

Ice Cube opened his eyes. He was no longer in the school-house. Instead, he found he had been teleported into what looked like the inside of a palace, complete with two ponies on thrones, and a sea of bickering bureaucrats and politicians beneath them. Ice Cube didn't know why he was there, but he sure as hell didn't like it.

Here Ice Cube was, the fucker of police, the killer of Uncle Sam, sitting in a room with angry politicians bitching about their high social statuses and abundance of money.

Someone just fuckin' shoot me.

Author's Note

The new chapter is finally out! Huzzah! Purp drank for everybody!

The Ugly Duckling

Cheerilee stopped her lesson when she heard a hard knocking on the door. The children all perked up in anticipation. They would be getting a new reader for story time, and they were told it was someone special. Every step their teacher took towards the door added onto the smiles of the excited fillies and colts. When her hoof made contact with the doorknob, the class was in a near frenzy of giant smiles.

When she turned the doorknob, the class' excitement ranged from immeasurable to multi-orgasmic. The door slowly opened and some of the kids looked to be on the verge of exploding. When the door was fully opened, the room was completely silent.

Through the door stepped in... the local mail-pony.

"Awww. Come On!" A nearly unanimous outburst erupted from the children upon seeing that their "special" reader was actually just the mail-pony.

"Hrmph. Nopony ever appreciates the mail-pony." Moaned the disgruntled stallion.

"I'm truly sorry about that." Cheerilee apologized.

"Yeah, I get it all the time. You have some mail."

"Oh thank you. And again, sorry for your greeting. You see, they're supposed to have a new reader come in today, but he hasn't arrived yet. They must have gotten their hopes a little too high."

"New reader? Oh yeah, I almost forgot. This fella got lost and asked for directions to the school, so I let him follow me. Is this your new reader?"

The mail-pony stepped aside and in walked the baddest motherfucker in Ponyville. He was almost twice as tall as Cheerilee and was surprisingly not burning a fat blunt between his lips.

"Oh, Ice Cube, it's good to see you. And not a minute too soon."

"Yeah, no problem. These the kids?" Ice Cube asked, looking at all the mixed reactions of the students.

"Yes they are. They were a little more excited earlier."

Most of them seemed confused, chattering amongst themselves; unsure of who their new reader was.

"Who's that?" One foal asked.

"I dunno." said another.

"Maybe he comes in peace."

"Cheerilee said he was special. Maybe he's retarded."

"What? No, I think you're the one who's retarded."

"Well, you were adopted."

"Well, your Mom is a prosti..."

"ICE CUBE! WOOO!" yelled a colt in the back of the room, making the whole room go silent. The rest of the class turned to look at him. He shrunk back into his chair, face bright red.

"Yes. Children, meet your new reader; Ice Cube. He came straight here from... um. I'm sorry, where are you from, again?" Cheerilee asked the confused rapper.

"South Central L.A."

"Right. He came all the way here from South Central L.A. He's going to be reading some stories from Earth."

"Oooooh." The class said unanimously in wonderment.

"It's great to hear that enthusiasm. Would you like to start now, Ice Cube. Or do you want to answer some questions." Cheerilee asked, seeing many hooves in the class raised.

"Uh, yeah. I guess I can answer a few questions." Ice Cube replied, rubbing the back of his head with a hand.

"Okay then, let's start with... Scootaloo."

"Is Ice Cube your real name?" Scoots asked.

Reasonable question. Ice Cube thought.

"Naw. It's O'Shea."

"O'Shea. That's a nice name." Cheerilee lied. "Okay... Diamond Tiara."

"O'Shea is a stupid name."

"One: that isn't even a question. Two: your name is Diamond Tiara. Are you really in a position to call my name stupid?" Ice Cube asked angrily.

"Yes." she replied.

"Diamond Tiara! That is quite enough. Mr. Ice Cube was nice enough to come read a story to us. You will treat him with respect."

Diamond Tiara crossed her forelegs and rolled her eyes. Ice Cube spoke up.

"Thanks. I lost my temper a bit also. I'm sorry." he said. The hell I am. Diamond Bitch needs to be taken down a peg.

"Okay, next question. How about Sweetie Belle." Cheerilee pointed her hoof to a unicorn in the front row.

"Are you a singer?"

"Kinda. I'm a rapper."

"I've heard of those. What do you rap about?" asked the curious filly.

The answer formed in Ice Cube's head. The ghetto. Friends getting shot. Racist bigots. Having good days. Good days being ruined by police officers. Shooting police officers. Stabbing police officers. Beating police officers. Choking police officers. Drowning police officers. Breaking the necks of police officers. Burning police officers.

"You know... stuff."

"Ooooh, stuff." Snails added.

"Um, yeah. Any other questions?" Cheerilee asked. Apple Bloom raised a hoof.

"Yes, Apple Bloom."

"What story are ya' readin' to us?"

Ice Cube thought over the question, unsure of what story to read. Just then, he realized he forgot the childrens books on Earth.

Dammit. I gotta think of something.

"Um, how about The Ugly Duckling?" Ice Cube suggested.

"Oh, is it about Scootaloo the blank flank?" Silver Spoon asked, giving Scootaloo an evil grin.

"A blank what?" asked a confused Ice Cube.

"Hey! Don't make fun of Scootaloo. She's not a duck. She's a chicken." Sweetie Belle retorted in half-defense of Scootaloo.

"Yeah, I'm not a... wait. Heeeyy!"

"Girls!" yelled Cheerilee. "Mr. Ice Cube is going to read us a story, and we're all going to cooperate."

"Yes, Miss Cheerilee." The three arguing ponies mumbled.

"Good. Ice Cube, would you like to start?"

"Yeah, sure." Ice Cube said, knowing full well he didn't remember half of the Ugly Duckling.

This is gonna be interesting.

"Okay. The Ugly Duckling."

Once upon a time, there was this mother duck who lived on a farm. I think her name was Lafonda. Well Lafonda layed some eggs and sat on them for a while. After a couple of months, six of the duckling eggs hatched. Lafonda was glad to see that they were all fine. All except one egg, which hadn't hatched yet. Lafonda didn't remember laying seven eggs, and this egg was gray and bigger than the rest of the eggs.

Before she could do anything about it, the gray egg hatched. Out of the egg came the ugliest duck you've ever seen! I mean, damn. This thing was just... damn! If you were delivering this motherfuckin' duck baby, all you'd have said was "Damn!" Lafonda realized that it's fur was gray and he was larger than the other ducklings.

"Damn. That's one ugly duckling." she said. "My husband is gonna kill me."

Well, her husband didn't kill her. But he did slap her silly and run off to hook up with this one hoochie he met in Vegas. Days, months, and years passed by and the ugly duckling wasn't getting any prettier. Even worse, nobody would talk or play with him. And his duck brothers would tease him and call him names like "faggot", "doo-doo head", and "Ugly McDickface".

Despite the cruel names from everyone else, his Mom still comforted him. Lafonda would say at night, "Poor little fagg... er, duckling. Why are you so different from the others?"

The ugly duckling felt cold and alone.

"Awww." many foals said, in sympathy of the duckling. Ice Cube ignored this and continued.

One day, the ugly duckling said "Fuck it", and ran away from the farm. His travels took him to a pond, where he saw some birds. He started asking them where he could find other ducks that looked like him. The only thing the birds said was "Daaamn". Did the ugly duckling give up, though? Hell no. He went further from the farm until he found a bog... or was it an orchard? He went to one of those places where they make wine.

"You mean a vineyard." Cheerilee interrupted.

"You're a vineyard." Ice Cube replied to a confused Cheerilee. "As I was saying..."

He found some geese in the wine-making place and asked them if there were more of his kind around. They didn't say "Damn", but they did warn him about hunters in the area.

"Watch out kid. There's some men with guns around here. An ugly duck like you? They'll cap your ass on sight." the first goose said.

"They'll eat you with ketchup." said a second.

"They'll hang you by your own spinal cord, chop you up, and feed you to your family." said a third.

With that, the ugly duckling ran away from the wine place, screaming.

"Damn yo, that was just messed up." the first said to the third.

The ugly duckling didn't stop running until he found an old woman's house in the forest. Thinking he was a runaway goose, she took him, and put him in one of those little house things that hens stay in to lay eggs. One of the hens told him he would be eaten if he didn't lay eggs. He tried to lay eggs, but not having ovaries put a damper on his plans. He was convinced he was going to die soon, and he reminisced to the simple days where he only had to worry about his brothers calling him "Queero the ugly dickling".

A few nights after going to the old lady's house, she accidently left the door to the hen-house open. He took the opportunity and ran as far as possible. He kept running and running until he found a large, thick bed of reeds and climbed in.

"If nobody wants me, I'll hide here forever." the duckling said.

There was no shortage of food in the reed patch, and the duckling was beginning to feel a little happier. He saw some swans flying above and wished he could be like them. He wished, if just for a day, that he could glide seamlessly over the horizon, that he would be accepted and loved, and would grace the world with his humbling beauty. Just then, all the swans simultaneously dropped deuces and rained on the duckling in what he described as literally "the great shit-storm of our time".

Months passed in the reeds and fall turned to winter. He had to find some food in the snow, but collapsed from the cold. A man found him lying in the snow and took him home for his family to take care of. The family fed, warmed, and loved the goose for a few of the happiest months in his life. The only thing that could make the duckling any happier is if he had a big bag of hash.

But he grew too big for the family to take care of, and the man decided to set the duckling free in the pond. The duckling looked at his reflection, and could barely recognize himself.

"Daaamn." he said to himself. His feathers were white, instead of gray, and he wasn't a fraction as ugly as before. On realizing he was never a duck at all, he looked up and saw the swans flying in the air. He spread his wings and took off to meet his bretheren.

"Eyo, homes." he called out.

"Yo, where ya been?" one of them called out.

"It's a long story. Yo, can we fly over a farm real quick? I've got some business to take care of."

A few hours later, he and the swans passed over the farm that was his birthplace. One of the ducks noticed him and called out.

"Hey, is that... faggot?" one of his duck brothers asked.

"Yeah, it is. Hey everyone, it's Captain Shitstain. He's back." called another.

His duck brothers all gathered around to see him fly with his new crew. Lafonda was proudest of him, always knowing the ugly son of a gun would go far in life.

"Wow, look at his feathers." said one duck brother.

"Looking good, ass-munch." yelled another.

"Damn, how did he get so damn sexy?"

The swan formerly-known-as ugly duckling nodded and motioned for his brothers to suck his balls.

"Deez nuts, brothers! Deez nuts."

And they all lived happily ever after. The end.

The class was silent as Ice Cube finished the story. He smiled at Cheerilee and asked if she liked it.

"Did I like it? DID I LIKE IT!?" Cheerilee yelled. She was clearly angry at Ice Cube for obvious reasons.

Cheerilee began converging on Ice Cube, who nervously stepped back.

"So I guess that's a no?"

"AAAAAGH!" she yelled, chasing Ice Cube out of the building until he was out of sight. Ice Cube checked to make sure Cheerilee didn't follow him before entering his motel room.

"Damn it. Next time, I gotta remember to bring the books with me." he said before letting himself fall on the bed. He sat around for a few hours doing very little before he heard a knock at the door. He answered it to find a disgruntled Cheerilee standing at the door.

"Do you want to read more stories to them?" she asked. Ice Cube looked at her confusedly.

"Uh, didn't you chase me out of the school just a little while ago?"

"The kids enjoyed it and are protesting outside the school because I wouldn't let you read anymore."

"They liked it?" ice Cube asked, a look of surprise on his face.

"Yes. Yes they did."

"And they're protesting on my behalf?"

"Yes. Yes they are."

Ice Cube thought about this for a moment. Often, parents wouldn't even want their kids even knowing who Ice Cube was, and especially wouldn't let them listen to his work. But having kids enjoy it, and protest for it; it was... endearing.

"Okay, I'll do it."

Cheerilee sighed. "Alright. Thursday, 12 o'clock. And please try to make it more kid-friendly."

"I'm not sure if I can, but I'll try." he said, closing the door.

Ice Cube went to his bed and sat down.

Little kids protesting. For my stories. Ice Cube thought, letting a smile work across his face. He began trying to remember other children stories he heard on Earth.

Little Red Riding Ho? Hmm, maybe.

Author's Note

Click here for the actual story of The Ugly Duckling.

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Cheerilee spent much of the last hour glancing at the clock, counting down the minutes. It was Thursday, and the clock read 11:57. It would only be moments until the exuberant, profanity-filled human would come through the door. She began strongly questioning her decision to let Ice Cube read to her students again. She asked herself if it was the right move, even when the children were protesting. Regardless, it wouldn't be long before the answer walked in.

*knock knock* Cheerilee heard on the door. Opening it, she could see the rapper waiting patiently. She motioned with a hoof for him to step inside.

"Thank you." Ice Cube said politely.

Hm. Maybe I was being too judgemental. I'm sure he'll rise to the occasion. she thought.

Ice Cube looked at the excited class and gave a kind and hearty, "What's up niggas?".

Cheerilee face-hoofed. Or not.

"So, Ice Cube. I assume you've prepared a foal-friendly story for us today?"

"I don't know what a foal is, so no."

Cheerilee just sighed and pointed him to a chair in front of the class.

"Don't mind if I do." Ice Cube said, placing himself on the chair. Unbeknownst to Ice Cube, the chair was only meant to support pony asses. His heavy Human ass caused the chair to collapse beneath him and he fell back-first onto the floor.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled in pain. Cheerilee saw an opportunity to save her students' innocence and rushed to Ice Cube's side.

"Oh, Ice Cube, are you okay?" Cheerily asked.

"Hell no." Ice Cube retorted, putting his hand to his lower back. "I sure as shit am not okay."

"Do you wanna go home? I can understand if you didn't want to read today... or ever." Cheerilee tried.

"No. I told these kids I'd read to them, and that's what I'm gonna do."

"But it looks like you really damaged your sternum." Cheerilee said, desperately trying to convince him to leave.

"First of all, my sternum is in my chest. What you're thinking of is my Coccyx. Second, I'm fine." he said, standing up straight, fighting the pain it caused him. Ice Cube turned to the class and prepared to announce the story.

"Goldilocks and the Thr..." Ice Cube said before being interrupted by Cheerilee.

"Ice Cube, you should really go lay down."

"I'm fine. Goldilocks and the..."

"But what if you're not?"

"Goldilocks an..."

"Ice Cube, you should..."

"Goldiloc..."

"Don't ignore me."

"Gol..."

"Ice Cube!"

"GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE FUCKING BEARS!" he yelled. Cheerilee went dead silent, as did the class.

"Thank you. Goldilocks and the Three Bears."

There was once a family of bears who lived in the woods. These weren't the typical bears, but these bears could talk and perform multiple tasks that only sapient beings could do. Kinda like Yogi, except less annoying. Well, one morning, the bears made some porridge, which kinda tastes like oatmeal mixed with piss. After making the porridge, they went for a walk.

In the forest, there also lived a girl. Short, white, blonde; your typical aryan. She was always curious and always getting into things. Well, one day she decided to go on a walk in the forest. Her mom didn't have the sense to tell Goldilocks that the woods is filled with an uncountable number of things that can eat you. But luckily for Goldilocks, she remained un-eaten for her walk.

After an hour of walking, Goldilocks found the bears' cottage in the middle of the woods. Thinking that breaking and entering would be fun, she went into the cottage. She was an amateur, though. She didn't close the door behind her and she didn't wear gloves or a hat to keep DNA and fingerprints off their property. She also didn't check every room before making herself comfortable. Not to mention, she made the rookie mistake of going into the house in broad daylight.

"Mister Ice Cube, how do you know so much about breaking into houses?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Uh, I knew a guy." Ice Cube lied, and returned to the story.

Well, Goldilocks decided to raid this particular house's pantry. She saw the bowls of porridge sitting on the table. She took a spoonful of the largest bowl.

"Ow, too hot. And it tastes like piss." she said.

She got a spoonful of the medium bowl. "Too cold. And it still tastes like piss."

She then got some of the smallest bowl. "Hmm. Just right temperature, but... AHA!"

She ran to the pantry and pulled out a bottle of hops, putting them in the porridge. The hops mixed with the taste of piss. Now the smallest bowl tasted like Bud Lite, but it was an improvement.

Deciding she was satisfied with breakfast, she got a beer out of the fridge and went to the living room. After playing their XBox, leaving her beer on the coffee table without a coaster, and being an overall nuisance; she decided to rest her feet. She sat in the Papa bear's chair and decided it was too big.

"God damn! Who the hell sits in this? Buddha? Does the Notorious BIG live here?" She snarled.

After seeing the Mama bear medium sized chair, she still thought it was too big. "Shit. It's like a foster home for Oompa Loompas."

Then, she saw the Baby bear chair. "Now we're talking." She said, sitting on the chair. Just then, the chair collapsed under her weight.

"Wait. Didn't that just happen ta you?" Apple Bloom asked. Ice Cube thought about that.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah it did." he pondered the coincidence of it before continuing again.

Goldilocks got up from the pile of wooden chair parts and went upstairs to the bedroom. Glad that there was nobody getting freaky in there, she stepped in and looked at the beds. She walked over to the biggest bed and jumped on it. It was too hard for Goldilocks, making her left arm go numb. She jumped on the medium bed, but it was too soft. In fact, it looked like the matress was trying to eat her alive. Once she climbed her way off the overly-soft bed, it was onto the smallest one. She jumped on this one and immediately fell asleep on impact.

The bears didn't take long after that to get home and notice something wrong. The bears walked over to their respective bowls and noticed someone had eaten their porridge. The curious baby bear took a bite and immediately spit it out and started crying.

"What's wrong, little bear?" Mama bear asked.

"It tastes like Bud Lite!" he replied. All three bears violently threw up at the mention of the foul liquid.

"What wretch does this to a child?" Papa bear yelled.

They moved onto the living room, where a chair was broken, their XBox was on, and there was a coaster-less Coors bottle sitting on the table. Mama bear nearly snapped when she saw the bottle leaving outlines on her coffee table.

The Papa bear comforted his wife and led his family upstairs to the bedroom. Papa bear noticed a crack on his solid granite bed.

"Someone's been sleeping in my bed." he yelled.

"Someone slept in my bed too." Mama bear called out.

"Papa, there's an Aryan girl sleeping in my bed; just like Malcolm X warned." Baby bear said. Goldilocks woke up and looked around to see a room full of pissed-off bears. She got up, but Papa bear got in a fighting stance.

"You'll die here, bitch. Nobody puts Bud Lite in my boy's food." Papa bear growled. Goldilocks panicked and pulled a 9 millimeter out of her pocket and shot Papa bear in the leg.

"AAAARGH!" he yelled. Goldilocks hauled ass out of the house while the bears chased her. Just then, she realized her left arm was still numb and flailing behind her as she ran. If you're having trouble imagining this, just think of a blonde girl with a gun in one hand, and her other arm flailing around while she runs from a family of bears who are covered in puke, and one of which is limping after her with a shot leg. Then you can get a feel of the shituation she's in.

Well, it turns out Goldilocks was fast as hell, and got away. But the police apprehended her 4 hours later, smoking a blunt behind starbucks. She was charged with breaking and entering, assault, and failure to use a coaster. She was given 5 years in the state pen, and the police were ordered to keep a permanent record on her.

But who cares what the police think? Fuck the police. The end.

Cheerilee just sighed as the students clapped and some nearly cried at their beloved reader's perfect story.

"You kids really like it?" Ice Cube asked.

"Uh, yeah. It's only the best story we've ever heard." Scootaloo said.

"It was awesome!" Snips yelled.

"An extraordinary work of literature, and a shining example of what stories should be in a timeless display of both emotion and skill." Apple Bloom attested. "Or, ya know... stuff."

"We want you to read us stories all the time." Sweetie Belle said.

"YEAH!" erupted the classroom.

"You... want me..." Ice Cube said, trying to hold back the only tear he'd ever shed since Eazy-E passed away.

"I gotta go. Thanks." he said, running out the door, not wanting the kids to see him in his current state. He hadn't been that happy in a long time.

"Wait! Are you coming back?" Cheerilee yelled to Ice Cube, who was running into town.

"Monday. Same time." he managed to get out.

Cheerilee sighed once again and closed the door. She picked up a piece of chalk and walked up to the board.

"Okay, let's go over a quick list of words you shouldn't ever say. Let's start with 'fuck', shall we?"

Author's Note

Click here for the actual story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.