The Adventures of Billybob the Butt Bandit

'Twas a few days before that one holiday that gets you to buy things, and all up in that place, your favorite swaglord was trying to get to first base.

No, not in baseball, you fool. Are you truly that dumb? Is the School for Special Children where all bronies come from? Stop crying, I did not mean to offend; to cause such pain in your ass I did not intend. All that was said is that you're special, like a snowflake or some crap. Finding that your only two joys in life are to watch ponies and fap.

"What's going on?" asked Billybob to his friends. "What's with that stuff above us? Is the writer at it, again?"

"I'm afraid so," replied Twilight, rolling her eyes. She does that a lot, so get used to it, guys.

"You all should probably stop rhyming," said Celestia with the grace of a manatee. "Before you go, I need help. Someone stole my panaties!"

Billybob felt the urge to correct her by stating that she meant "panties" instead of "panaties", but it was then that he realized that it was for the sake of rhyme, and that a diddly-duck must not be given. Besides, the rhyming seemed to have mysteriously stopped. It was as if the writer had just said, "I ain't gonna rhyme this shit for a whole flip-flopping chapter" to himself and ceased the activity. Needless to say, there was much internal rejoicing.

"Who do you think stole them?" asked Twilight. She was answered by Celestia grabbing her face and bringing it close to her's as if to tell her in a discreet manner that her non-existent fly was down. The position was not necessarily a comfortable one, but she appreciated her mentor taking the time out of her not-as-busy-as-she-would-have-one-believe schedule to perhaps tell her if her Vatican City was exposed.

"I know exactly who took them..."

"Who?" asked Owlowiscious. He flippity-flapped his way over to the group, hoping to also go on a swagtastic adventure.

Spike, seeing his ultimate rival stepping all up on his turf, felt the sudden urge to get medieval on his feathery ass. "I'm gonna get medieval on your ass!" he shouted, stating what the writer had previously said. He aimed his little M60 at Owlowiscious and fired. His target danced about, hoo-hooing all the while. It appeared as though the bullets were hitting their mark, but each time a bullet reached the owl, a "shtk" sound could be heard and little markers consisting of four short lines in a circling pattern appeared and immediately disappeared afterwards. The air was filled with "shtk"s until, finally, Spike ran out of ammo. The mere words of the writer could not describe the rage of that little purple dude.

"Freaking hitmarkers!" he cried, tossing his weapon at Rarity. To his dismay, the gun connected with Rarity's rumpalicious booty. A yellow "+100" appeared on her body and, much like the hitmarker, vanished as quickly as it had shown up.

Rarity died. Yeah... she sort of just died. Don't ask me how; I mean, Spike was packing. It was like an M60, but small enough for you to handle. Hey... hey... you don't need to cry.

Regardless, Rarity lay dead, the trauma she suffered in her ass region proving too much even for her marshmallow-y texture. Everyone remained where they were, staring at the fabulous body on the ground. They weren't entirely sure why her face resembled that of a pony who had just experienced the overwhelming euphoria of receiving an enema as a gift for Valentine's Day from herself, but they decided not to question it. That is, everyone besides Celestia chose not to question anything.

"Oh my Me... those bastards have no balls."

"Balls?" asked Applejack, "what do balls have to do with Spike no-scoping Rarity?"

Celestia got all up in Applejack's face, breathing heavily in the manner that a watcher of Japanese cartoons would. "It has everything to do with Spike no-scoping Rarity," she whispered. Turning her attention to Spike, she picked up the little dragon dude by the tail, looking deep into his eyes. Little fedoras danced about with cannabis leaves within the deepest depths of Spike's pupils. "Good gravy!" Celestia dropped Spike to the ground.

"What is it?" Rainbow Dash asked lesbian-ly.

"I'm afraid that Spike has come down with" - Celestia shuddered - "euphoria."

A collective gasp came from the remaining ponies, human guy, and unconscious dragon. "Euphoria?!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Yes. Euphoria. I'm afraid that I am not the only one who has been targeted by those demons." She picked Spike up again, gently stroking his scales with her more-than-likely dirty hoof.

"Who exactly are you talking about?" asked Twilight.

Celestia sighed. She wished not to involve her little ponies in her ongoing war with the monsters she mentioned. It was her job to deal with such a threatening force, after all. She was a princess, and princesses dealt with that kind of diplomatic shit. This, however, had been proving to be more than a match, even for her bitching skills.

All of the ponies lost to them, she thought. Why must my favorite ponies now be dragged into this mess?

"Bronies," Celestia finally uttered flatly.

"Pardon my language, Big Mama," Billybob said, "but what in the ever-loving name of the great Overlord Vladimir Lenin is a 'bro-knee'?"

Prepared for such a question, Celestia turned her horn down for what and produced a diagram in the air with her magic. The depiction showed a middle-aged human - but this representation no where near matched that of a normal homo(sexual) sapien. His figure, especially in the stomach region, carried enough excess fat to satisfy every starving child in literally every Third World country. An unkempt mass of facial hair adorned his neck region into his multiple chins. On his freakishly large hands, the residual dust from Doritos™ and Cheetos™ accompanied by the leftover stickiness of what was either Mountain Dew™ or Liquid Shame™™® created an unsightly combination. The most horrifying facet of this creature, however, was not its squinted, horny eyes or the tacky shirt depicting Fluttershy in a position worthy of a much higher quality Mature rated fanfiction; it was the hat he wore; such an ugly, classless, disgusting, vile, putrid, evil hat that no decent person would ever deserve the suffering of wearing such an Allah-awful thing.

Rarity came back to life, vomited at the sight of the monstrous beast - mostly at its face and filthy hat - and died again. The reader wondered why nobody in the story gave a rat's ass about the miracle that just occurred with Rarity, but he realized that he was reading The Adventures of Billybob the Butt Bandit™, so he stopped.

"It's awful!" cried Twilight.

"Horrible!" wailed Flutterthing.

"Terrible!" shrieked Lesbian Dash, literally crying.

"Why, that thing's uglier than my mamma's corpse!" shouted Applejack louder than she should have.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Flash Sentry, who died only a second after due to an unfortunate, unexpected heart attack. Nopony mourned, for nopony knew who the hell he was.

Suddenly, there was a booming laugh the made everypony in the surrounding area (all six of them if Billyboob was included) cringe with fear. "Prepare your anuses, ladies!"

A forceful gust of wind whipped past the ponies, accompanied by a flash of blinding light. When their sight returned and their manes stopped flailing in the wind, they all looked to behold the sight before them. There stood - much to their horror - a human similar to the "brony" shown to them previously. The same jackass-ly hat sat atop his greasy, longer-than-necessary hair that failed to completely conceal his acne-riddled face. A shirt depicting a mare with unnaturally large tits (Tit-anics, if you will) barely covered his massive stomach. From his trench coat down to his finger-less gloves, crusty black pants, and MLP FiM™™ shoes, the man didn't look like he swung by to give a hearty hello to the protagonists.

Billybob drew his Magnum XXL and pointed it at the stranger. "Just who the hell do you think you are, boy? Some kinda sideshow attraction?"

"Fufufufu," the stranger laughed, "don't make me laugh. A pleb like yourself could never comprehend the sheer magnitude of my superiority. You are nothing more than another bug beneath my shoe." From within his trench coat, he drew a katana as long as he was tall. "These poor ladies have been taken captive by, from the looks of it, a joke of a villain. I am here to rescue them from your devious clutches!"

"And just what kind of rescue involves taking my panties?!" Celestia bitched.

The stranger-ninja-trench coat guy scoffed. "I simply took the favor that you would surely give me after I rescued you. I knew you'd appreciate my heralding actions to such an extent that you would offer your undergarments to me as an act of gratitude."

A single used condom whizzed past the strangers head. He gasped, looking towards the source. Billybob's weapon sat smoking in his hand, despite the obvious health risks that came with such an addictive behavior.

"I've had just about enough of your gabbin', you slick slimy son of a sick soul-sucking psychopathic shadowy shitlord," Billybob seethed, pulling back the hammer on his Magnum for another shot.

"Hmph. I deal with buffoons like yourself all the time on the Internet. The outcome will be no different, here."

The wind kicked up, creating a cool whipping effect with the two guys' clothes. A storm was brewing - a storm that would probably wait until the next chapter to erupt. Nothing could ruin the tension between the two formidable forces about to square off and the reader waiting eagerly for the next update of the fanfiction.

Rarity ejaculated.