It's a Love Story, Baby Just Say Yes
His eyes shot open. The legend himself, Nicolas Cage, had woken up in the morning, feeling a lot like P-Diddy.
Cage, in all his Cagy Cageness, slid out of bed, and walked to window. He stared out at the estate before him, glowering down at all his riches and glory he had amassed from being the greatest actor of all time.
A knocked rapped at his chamber door. “Yolo Swaggins?” Nicolas Cage turned to his pet hobbit, who was secretly a Chinese Mafia Agent sent to assassinate Richard Nixon, and looked him right in the eyes.
“Si, señor,” Yolo responded, his golden chains swaying to and fro majestically.
“Fetch me the smartest man alive!” Nicolas Cage’s eyes narrowed in determination. “Donald Trump.”
Donald Trump and Nicolas Cage had quite a history with each other. Donald used to be the actor’s maid, before a scandal with a certain two-dimensional blonde bratty pony came into his life. The abomination had since been disposed of, but the wounds were still healing.
“You got a lot of gall calling me here, Cage,” Donald said, a lock of his combover falling in front of his eye in the sexiest fashion known to man. “I told you, I quit the business a long time ago.”
Cage took a deep breath. “Look, Trump. I don’t really want anything to do with you, so-”
Donald grunted. “So, you thought you’d just call me here, huh? Get your dirt work done? That’s not how this game works, Cage! Maybe for you, but I swear upon the three hairs I have left-”
The renowned actor turned to the billionaire. “Trump! Get a hold of yourself! This isn’t the man I knew!”
The balding fat man sighed. “I’m not that man anymore, Nic. Things have changed. Ever since that little pony literally ate his way through half of my fortune, I’ve been on the rocks-”
“Come on, you can make that money back in a heartbeat!”
Trump gave Cage a defining look. “No, I mean I’ve actually been on the rocks! That thing shits diamonds!”
Cage felt taken aback by this, but quickly regained his Cagey composer, as well as he always did. “Well, I take it you're back in business then.”
“That’s the thing, Cage! It’s grown ill, I’m not sure how much longer I can pump it full antibiotics and that fake nacho paste they use in movie theaters! Even the best medicines such as those aren’t enough to sustain him.”
Nicolas walked over to the distraught entrepreneur. “Donald, I have the perfect solution. You’re the only man with the resources and lack of morals who can get me into that thing’s homeland! I, with my vast array of scientific, medical, biological, and other fancy sounding word skills will be able to grab a cure for the pony, and I can stay in Equestria for... other endeavours.”
Donald Trump shot Cage a doubtful glance. “Other endeavours? Cage, I don’t like the sounds of this one.”
Nicolas Cage looked deep into Donald Trump’s blue eyes. “Trumpy, baby. Please. Have faith in me. Remember when everyone thought Ghost Rider 7 was gonna suck?”
“It kinda did, to be frank with ya.”
Cage ignored this. “The point being, Trump, is that I have been to the pony homeland twice: Once via the Purple Potty People’s Portapottyporter, and another time through Burger King’s Walnut Shooter. Both times were supposed to be one way trips.”
Trump exhaled loudly. “Then why are you here, wasting my time?”
“Shut the fuck up, Trump, I was getting to that.” Cage almost cracked a smile at his own witty rhyme. damn, was he clever. “The point being, is that I met two extraordinary mares. One was named Pinkie Pie. We had a child together, and then I killed it and we all went to hell together-”
“Wait, you fucked a horse?” Trump’s eyes widened in shock and disgust.
“Well yeah, but I don’t see how that’s-” Trump vomited profusely onto Cage, exhuming his lunch of oysters and gold bars all over his former friend’s face.
“Alright, go on.”
Cage wiped a gold chunk from his eye. “Yes, as I was saying. The time before I had sex with Pinkie Pie, I had gone to Equestria in that thing with a lot of P’s in the title. I had met Fluttershy, and we spent so many wonderful afternoons frolliking, making out, making love, and pissing on each other.” Trump vomited what was left in his greedy little moneybag of a stomach.
Cage walked off into the bathroom, turned on the shower, slipped out of his bathrobe, and closed the sliding glass door with Trump on the other side. “Anyway, I need to get back there. I promised Fluttershy something all those ago.”
Trump raised a fading eyebrow. “And what was that, pray tell,” he said with a snide snear.
“That would once again piss upon her pony posterior,” Cage said dramatically, rubbing soap all along his well toned chest. “Once again... I will be with my one true waifu.”
Trump stared off at the large mirror on the wall, examining a small boil that was beginning to fester on the underside of his bottom lip. If he wanted to get more anti-aging cream, he would need more diamonds. Sure, he could keep pressing the mines in Africa for them, but that pony was poopin 345 carat diamond there!
“Fine,” Trump said at last, as Cage shut of the shower. “I’ll do it. I have a teleporter you can use, Cage, but I’m giving you a deadline. If you don’t make it back in 48 hours, you’ve screwed the pooch buddy!”
Yolo Swaggins hustled into the room, producing a towel that had been woven from the fluffiest substance on the planet: Mila Kunis's pubic hairs. It had been dyed Nic’s favorite color, bright pink.
“Trump... this is the day. I can feel it in my bones.”
Nicolas Cage sat in front of the television, drinking a large bottle of water. Scientists scuttled to and fro, setting up wire and getting coffee. Trump stood next to the actor, sighing slightly.
“Nic...” Trump said with a sigh. “Remember you deadline.”
“You don’t have to keep reminding me, Donald.” Nicolas Cage took another deep sip of water. “I know what I’ve got myself into. There are thing one must do for the power of love.”
Trump sighed again. “I have to warn you again, Cage. 48 hours or you’re fucked, got it?”
Nicolas slowly slid a pair of goggles in front of his eyes. “Got it.”
“Alright, this may sting a bit...”
A nearby scientist sighed. “Poor fuck. He has no idea what he’s getting into...”
The television switched on. “We now return to our 72 hour marathon of ‘The Jersey Shore’!”
Nicolas Cage screamed. He screamed long and hard. It was by far the most excruciating 72 hours of his life, the pain akin to giving birth, assuming you were giving birth to a three thousand pound Cthulhu baby.
He was 69 hours in when his skin began to melt off. Trump wanted to look away, but it was like witnessing a trainwreck. Part of you wanted to spare yourself from the horrors you were viewing, but the rest of you wanted to watch the pain and suffering unfold.
With a flash of light, Nicolas Cage was gone. Donald Trump wiped his brow, a grim expression plastered into his face. “48 hours, Cage... don't screw me over...”
Nicolas Cage flew through time and space, and crashed headfirst into a piano. Musical notes flew through the actor’s head, and thousands of universes exploded and inflated all at one inside his mind. He was birthed out by the fabric of reality into Equestria, next to a pristine lake.
“Well, I need to get it on with Fluttershy,” Cage mused. “But I can’t just go and meet her empty handed and empty bladdered. I need to get prepared.”
Nicolas Cage fell to the side of the lake, and began to drink. The cool lake water felt magnificent upon Nicolas’s tongue.
“This,” he said with certainty. “Is the best water ever.”
And with that, Cage fell in love with the water. Alas, their love could not be, for Cage had promised his heart to Fluttershy. “And as everyone knows,” The renowned actor told a nearby frog. “I am always true to my heart, frog-sama.”
The frog leapt away, off to do froggish things, but that did not concern Cage at the moment. He had, in fact, other things to do, and less than 48 hours to do such things.
Cage knew the way to Fluttershy's cottage by heart, for when he wasn't being the best actor of all time or ordering Yolo Swaggins to do things for him, he was memorizing a map of Equestria down to every last detail. He walked through the small woods, down a not often traveled path, where he soon came across a aunt cottage which could only belong to his pony waifu, Fluttershy.
Nicolas Cage knocked upon the door to the cottage, where he heard the scrambling of hooves coming from behind. The door slowly creaked open, and for the first time in so very long, Cage gazed down upon his absent lover.
"Fluttershy… is it really you?" The pink maned pony looked up at the actor and gasped.
"Cagey?"
Nicolas Cage stood there in all his glory. Fluttershy squealed in delight at her waifu once again returning, just as he had promised all those years ago.
“Yes, Fluttershy,” Nicolas said, smiling down at her. “And now... we can make beautiful passionate love.”
Nicolas Cage scooped up the pony, and kissed her smack on the lips. His tongue invaded her little mouth, and the yellow mare shivered in pleasure. Already, she could feel Nicolas’ magic working.
Nicolas Cage stumbled inside, Fluttershy still glued to his mouth. The two flopped into the couch, viciously tongue fucking each other. Fluttershy opened her mouth, and whispered
“Oh, Flutters, I know you are,” Cage said with a grin, and he whipped out his hardening member. His pants fell to the floor around his ankles, and Fluttershy was going to finally be able to enjoy her Cagey goodness once more.
Cage stroked Fluttershy’s cooter, nibbling at her neck all the while. The pony’s left eye closed as she gasped adorably.
Cage positioned his dick with her entrance, getting ready to make sweet saucy love to her. Just as he was about to penetrate the pony poon, his eyes shot open, remembering the most valuable piece of intel he held in his brain.
“Flutters...”
The pony looked up at him, gasping a bit. “Yes?”
“I’ve got a full bladder, and I’m not about to waste it.”
Fluttershy’s eyes sparkled as her waifu remembered her fetish. “Oh yes! yes! Piss all over me! That is if, um, you don’t mind...”
Cage smiled his wicked handsome smile, and he let loose his bladder muscles. The golden stream of piss splashed all over Fluttershy’s face, and the little pony eagerly lapped it up. she opened her mouth, letting Cage use her as a urinal, which might have been arousing if Nicolas Cage were Robert Downey Jr.
After the piss stream ended, Cage promptly dropped to his knees, and grabbed Fluttershy's ass. She squeaked as her lover spread her supple cunt lips, and slide his manhood deep inside her.
The love was glorious and passionate, with Cage thrusting almost musically while Fluttershy made the cutest groans and grunts. It was fiery, hot, and the sexiest goddamn thing ever. Angel was able to get off to their love making three times in a row.
Nicholas grunted. He knew he was getting close. Fluttershy was panting, nearly fucked silly.
However, there was one slight problem. Nicolas Cage had forgotten that Equestria time was faster than Earth time, 1 hour being equal to around 48 hours. Since he and Fluttershy had been going at it for just about an hour, Donald Trump was back in the real world, very unhappy.
“That idiot actor! I knew he’d double cross me!” Trump seethed. The angry balding billionaire shoved an unsuspecting scientist out of the way and pressed “The Bees” on the control panel.
Cage was just about to reach climax when he heard a familiar noise.
“Fluttershy, do you hear-”
Bees, thousands of bees, swarmed Nicolas Cage. He slid out of Fluttershy with a wet slork, bees covering every inch of his body.
“NO! NO! NOT THE BEES! WICKERMAN WAS AN AMAZING MOVIE, BUT NOT THE BEEEEEEEESSSS!”
Trump laughed, as Nicolas’ pain was so intense it could be felt through several realities. Gordon Freeman, Isaac Clark, and Stan Marsh alike all felt the poor actor’s pain.
“That’ll teach that scumfuck!” Trump said with a cackle. “He’s so easily manipulated... little did he know, Blueblood’s fine! All I really needed was him out of the way so I could continue my illicit love affair with none other than-” The door opened up as a gaudily dressed chinese midget trundled in. “-Yolo Swaggins!”
Trump and Yolo married early the next year, and together gave birth to the Human Fire Hydrant.
Our Love Is Golden
By Regidar
Fappy Valentine's Day, errybrudy
Author's Note
Yeah, I know this is a day late, fuck you.
I hope you liked it, Alex.
In case anyone wanted to know, Nicolas Cage's piss tastes like Sunny D.
