Westboro Baptist Church versus Equestriaby Osama Bin LadenChaptersDarrelFire and StuffZecora and StuffDarrelDarrel sighed as he picked up his picket fence that read, "It was Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve!" and grabbed his hat that declared, "GOD HATES QUEERS." He felt proud to wear and wield such items, but today was a little different. Anonymous had just penetrated their firewall that was protected by God and their personal information was flowing like blood across the internet. It was a bad deal forever one involved in the Westboro Baptist Church. They were an strong group of Christians, no matter how stupid the rest of the world was. He had found himself in the Church after a number of protests that were advertised on the Television. He had just bought one in the cottage he was currently living in. He was so inspired by the Protesters that he wanted to join them. After a year of membership, he finally felt alive. He then joined the Klu Klux Klan and became one of the most prominent members in the group. They had fun roasting things together. Hanging pamphlets around the town(mostly on trees). These organizations had allowed him to fellowship and feel loved and accepted. He loved to share his thoughts on faggots, blacks, Mexicans, Towel heads, and every other race with almost anyone he saw. If they back talked him, he would show up at their house in his favorite hood and bed sheet to scare them. It worked almost all the time. "Darrel, you done get your sign an hat?" His wife was at the bottom of the stairs, tapping her foot impatiently. "I gottem darling, I just a minute ya know?" He stared pensively across his room, thinking about what was going to happen today. "Dear, we gotta show them pony queers God's wrath! Now come on and grab your shotgun. We gotta teach some queers a lesson." There was a hint of urgency in her voice that stirred up his inner bigot and called him to his senses. "You're right dear, these Brony faggots don't deserve God's love." He stamped down the stairs, grabbing his shotgun along the way. "That's right, lets show em!" Dana, his wife, trailed behind him, chuckling under her breath. As they left their cottage and climbed into their truck, Darrel was reminded about why he moved to New York in the first place. In the countryside it smelled beautifully, and was a great place for Klan meetings as well. Ah New York, he though, I love you so much He put the keys into the ignition and the car sputtered to life. Dana grabbed his hand and held it, and he stared back into her green eyes. Dana was his sister, and Darrel had long admired her from when she was 12. When she was 16, he ran off with her and got "married" in Arkansas. After 2 years of avoiding the police and their parents, they moved to New York where the prospects of becoming the Grand Wizard of the area were pretty high, and where the Westboro Church had some influence. As they pealed away from their cottage in the wood, the could smell the fire from the Klan meeting just the night before. What a meeting that was. "Darling, do you know where to go?" Dana inquired. "Yes I do! Manhattan to some Brony Faggot Convention thingy. Those Bronies is not natural and should be wiped off that face of God's green earth." There was some obvious resentment in Darrel's voice, but it was God's calling to him to destroy the unnatural. Hours passed, and the Taylor Swift songs kept on repeating and repeating and repeating until finally Manhattan was insight. "We're almost their dear! So close!" Dana was exuberant. She finally could be used as God's hand in the world. A tool for justice. "Now, we're supposed to meet the others around that convention center. Lets go." Darrel floored it, heading towards that very convention center. 20 minutes passed, and the natural couple finally arrived at their destination. He could see the others from his Church all ready to go. Big Joe was in his Ford rocking a shotgun. Johnny was in the bed of Big Joe's truck with a rifle. They all flashed Darrel a smile. Darrel smiled back, and stepped out of the crappy truck that he had stolen. He grabbed his shotgun and the others followed suit. "You ready to kill some queers?" Big Joe asked. "You bet. I'd kill anything pony related right now." Darrel coolly answered. They could see the stream of happy teenagers entering into the convention center, all wearing brightly colored shirts with various ponies depicted on them. That sight filled Darrel with rage. "Come on. Lets go!" Darrel leveled his shotgun, ran towards a young boy, probably 16, and fired. Noting happened. The boy looked in shock,and the crowd stopped, stared and screams split the air as more round were fired. But none of them hit. "What the hell?" Darrel spat on the ground, looking into the barrel of his shotgun. "Why aint it..." BAM! The shotgun fired, spewing bits of Darrels head all over the ground. Dana screamed and the others panicked and ran back to their trucks. In Darrels mind a voice called out. "Sir, please wake up." "Ughghhghg." was his only reply. "Sir! We need you to wake up!" A rough object pushed him. His eyes cracked open. He could see a sliver of color. A little purple and pink. His eyes widened just and bit and he saw what had pushed him. It was a hoof. Darrel shook his head and stared at the owner. It was a pony. "Hello! Welcome to Equestria!" The purple pony said, smiling at the human in front of her. "OH SHIT! NOT ME!" Darrel screamed, and fainted. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ Darrel's eyes once more flickered open. He was immediately bombarded with colors from a world he thought did not exist. "What the hell is this.." he murmured, very confused at his surroundings. He was in a library, with things people told him were called "books". He had never read any, while except for the pamphlets the Klan handed out at the monthly meetings. But those weren't really "books". They were novels. Darrel shifted around, staring around the massive book place and took note of his surroundings. He was in enemy territory and he must survive. "Oh, he's finally awake!" A purple pony ran up to the waking Caucasian. "Get away from me you dirty fag pony!" Darrel screamed, pushing away from the charging mare. "Whats a fag?" the pony asked, turning her head sideways in an inquisitive stare. "You is a fag!" Darrel said, pointing a shaking finger at the unicorn. "No," the pony said, "I am Twilight Sparkle. But what is this word?" She again gave Darrel a puzzled look, as if he had an answer for her. "A fag is something that isn't natural. Like you pony things." He was still backed up in a defensive mode that Twilight immediately identified as a stance primitive creatures took when they felt threatened. "Well, I am sorry you feel that way," Twilight began, "can we still be friends?" Darrel was shocked. He had never had a friend before. Well except for his sister/wife. But he wasn't about to make friends with a pony fag. "Never!" Darrel shouted. Twilight looked downtrodden and turned to leave. "Can I at least have your name?" She said, tears in her eyes. "Ya sure, it's Darrel." He said coldly. He listened until the clopping had stopped,and began to plot his escape. Author's Note Well, this isn't what I usually write about. I hope you enjoy it though! Fire and StuffA pounding could be heard from Golden Oaks Library. Ponies in the street turned their heads in confusion. They murmured among themselves, wondering what was causing that din. “What the…” Twilight had just stepped into the square, and heard the sounds of hammering. “Twilight what is going on in there!” demanded a Cyan Pegasus. “I have no idea Rainbow Dash. I’m as clueless….” She then remembered the Neanderthal that she had left in the library. She quickly cantered up to the door and pushed with all her might, but the door held fast. “TAKE THAT PONY FAGS! I AINT GIVIN UP!” screamed Darrel, his primal instincts kicking in. “Please Darrel! Let me in!” pleaded Twilight, pushing against the door with magic now. But it staid fast. “Never! Ya’ll queers get away from me! You’re trying to infect me with your faggotry!” Darrel exclaimed and continued hammering away. He had taken apart the bookshelves inside and had found a hammer in the depths of the library along with some nails. So he had used the claw to destroy the shelves and hammer then to the doors and windows. He promised himself that he would not let them ponies into anywhere near him. He had made a cross out of some of the boards and was preparing to hoist it on top of the tree when a sleepy voice interrupted his activity. “Uhh Twilight, can you stop the noise… Wow! Who are you?!” A little green dragon had appeared from the upper part of the tree house. “Ah!” cried Darrel, “ITS SATAN!” he grabbed the cross and began to slowly approach the evil demon, chanting Bible verses in rapid succession. “GET THEE HENCE SATAN!” Spike looked behind him, sort of confused like, and then down at his scales. “I don’t get it…” he said, confused even more. Darrel advanced quickly, swinging his make shift cross at the Great Satan. Spike dashed out of the way, and accidently burped fire. That gave Darrel an idea... ___________________________________________________________________________________________________ The noise had ceased and the ponies in the square had all went on their way. But in the house was a different story. “Satan get back here!” Darrel yelled, scrambling after the scaly demon. “Get away from me! TWILIGHT!” Spike yelled. Twilight had been at the front door the entire time, banging and using magic to try to gain access to her house. But Darrel’s skill made it nearly impossible to get in. He had been making gallows for his fellow Klansmen for years. “Hush your demonic cry Satan!” Darrel said, and dove to grab the tiny dragon. “Nooooo!!!” Spike cried as he fell under the weight of the human. “Gotcha! Now, where’s my cross…” after grabbing his weapon, Darrel took Spike and the cross . They climbed the tree until they had reached the top, Spike shaking the entire time. “What are you going to do?” Quivered Spike. “Show these fags whats what!” Darrel grabbed the cross, and tied it to the tree with ropes attaching it firmly on top. Then, he grabbed Spike and pointed his mouth at the cross. “Light it now!” He demanded. “Uhhhh ok!” Spike cried and burped a flame that covered the cross. But nothing happened. “Why isnt it on fire!” Darrel said, confused at why Satan’s fire hadn’t lit the cross on fire. “I’m a messenger dragon!” pronounced Spike, rubbing his side from where Darrel’s hands had clamped down to hard. “You’re Satan! Not a dragon!” Darrel yelled at the tiny dragon, whilst searching his jeans for a lighter. He never went anywhere without one. “Ah! Here it is!” he exclaimed when he found his signature lighter with an etched “God Hates Fags” on it. He struck it twice against the wood of the cross until finally he had gotten a fire started. Then, he quickly retreated down the tree and climbed back into the comfort of his hijacked home. The cross was now inflames, which brought tears to Darrel’s eyes. He even began to stroke Spikes head for the love of the symbol that made him happy. The next thing he did was raid the bedrooms and gather sheets together. He began to cut, using the knife he always carried with him, and create a marvelous outfit. The entire time, Spike(or Satan) was tied up in the upstairs closet. Darrel hummed while he worked, “Stitch by stitch putting it together.” Then stopped humming because he had no idea where that was from. “Stupid pony fags…” He murmured, while measuring himself for the proper white garb. The outfit was almost done and the banging on the door had stopped completely, allowing Darrel to focus on creating the perfect outfit. “This is going to be the best night ever!” He exclaimed after the outfit was completed. It featured a high white hood, with a completely white body that gave the impression of a ghost to all who would see the outfit. With the outfit complete, he put it on, and stared in a random mirror he found in the bathroom. He looked good. Reallll good. But he began to feel some heat, as if the entire house was on fire. Weird,he thought¸must be nothing. Little did he realize that the fire he had started on the top of the tree had spread, well, as most fires do. The fire had consumed most of the tree house, and was starting to spread into the library with surprising speed. Darrel stepped out of the upper room, and stared in horror at the blaze he had started. “Oh praise the Lord! Have mercy on my soul!” he yelled, as he dodged flaming copies of My Little Dashie. He quickly darted out of the flaming mess that he had caused, still wearing his outfit, and into the streets of Ponyville. As he burst out of the library, he hit Twilight in the face with a door and heard someone say, “I told you Twilight that my Pinkie senses are never wrong.” Ignoring the random voice, he screamed, “THIS IS THE BEST NIGHT EVER.” Zecora and Stuff"Gawd consarn it!" Darrel yelled. His white robe was muddied from him running away from the blaze that had quickly consumed the library. He had been so concerned about escaping with his life that he had forgotten about the tiny Satan he had left locked up in the closet. "Oh well," he muttered, scraping some dirt off his shoes, "Satan needed to die anyway." After a minute of removing mud from the bottom of his sneakers, he put his hood back on and ran towards the forest, trying to go to the most desolate part of this faggoty place. He could here screams coming from the town, but he could care less. "These pony fags deserve death!" He confirmed to himself, reaffirming his belief that God hated this fag nation and these pony queers deserved to die. Also, Satan needed to die, but that had already been accomplished. As he traveled further and further into the forest, the screams became less and less audible and the sounds of the forest became louder and louder. He could finally relax. He leaned up against a tree, catching his breath. I wonder how Dana is doing? he thought, as the image of his wife/sister came to his face. He missed her. Like a lot. He was awoken from his day dream by the sound of a twig snapping. "Who's there!" He called out, crouching down to spring at the unknown. "My name is Zecora, to what you ask, Who are you, one with the mask?" said a surprisingly African voice. He froze after hearing her. They have niggers here too! he thought, his mind racked with the problems that the place had. He slowly backed away , trying to avoid the minority that had suddenly disrupted a perfect escape from faggotry and Satan. The sound had ceased, the background noise finally vacant. All of Darrel's focus was poured into his observation of the corner, his heartbeat replacing the rhythm of hooves beating on stone as he awaited the three fifth pony's arrival. Leave, leave, leave he kept thinking to himself, while finding cover behind a tree. His hood was hot and he was starting to sweat. Consarn it he thought, tempted to remove the hood, but stayed still as a confrontation with a minority was worse that sweating. So he toughed it out. There was a sudden snap, as twigs broke underneath the hooves of an approaching pony. "You think you really safe in here Stand up we about to take it there." Said the Africa pony, trying to intimidate the shadow she had seen. After a minute of nothing but silence, the zigger turned and went deeper into the forest. Once he was certain the coast was clear, Darrel stepped out from behind the tree. He looked around the now tranquil forest, seeing nothing he continued to head deeper into the forest, at an angle that would lead him away from the nigger pony. He forged his way through the thick undergrowth, and as he trudged forward he could hear the birds singing sweetly as they darted in and out of the trees. This was a time for him to relax and finally be at peace in the world of fag enablers. He reached into the pocket that he had made on his KKK outfit, and fished around to see what he had on him. He had his signature "God Hates Fags" lighter and matching hat. But his fingers brushed against plastic. He pulled out this mysterious object. It was his Klu Klux Klan Klub Kard. He had received it after his first lynching, from the Grand Wizard himself. The moment was an emotional one, as the Grand Wizard reached out with his staff and granted Darrel membership into the Klan. On the front, it showed three hooded figures hugging, while in the background a campfire was smoldering and a rope lay unused on the ground. He flipped it out and saw his name in gold printed in the middle, with his membership number in the left had corner. Underneath his name were the three tenants of being a Klansman: First, Never Tolerate Minorities(back of the bus Rosa.) Second, Always Hide the Bodies Third, Obey the Grand Wizard He looked over them again, nodding each time. But something didn't seem right, and as he started over he realized what it was. He had failed the first tenant. He had tolerated a Minority, albeit a pony, but a minority nonetheless. He knew what he had to do, and crammed his Klub Kard into his pocket and took off in the direction where he had last heard that nigger. "I'm gonna do you in," he murmured as he dashed quickly back. I've been dreaming, been waiting he thought, as he neared the tree that had saved his life. Once Darrel reached the spot where he had almost been contaminated, he looked at the ground for the sign of hoof prints and spotting some, he took off in the direction that they led. _____________________________________________________________________________________ Zecora had just plugged in her Lil Mayne CD and turned it to "Hello World" when there was a knock on the door. "I aint a peacemaker, I'm the peacetaker I'm very destructive, watch me break ya," she said while she trotted up to the door. She stared into the peephole she had installed, but saw no one. She shook her head, and returned to Lil Mayne. But, just as he was spitting about, "shoot you on the front porch and knock ya to the back yard," there was another knock on her door. "Who's that knocking knocking on my door," She called out, dropping the rhyme pattern. "A lonely stranger looking for a place to stay." Was the answer. Zecora trotted up, and unlocked the door. "Welcome,dear sir..." was all she could get out. "Shut it zigger, I know what you're up to," A hooded white figure said, "and I'm going to put an end to it." The hooded man lifted his fists and punched Zecora with all his strength. She was out cold. Darrel lifted the hood off his head, smiling at the knocked out zigger. "You gonna pay for being a fag minority." he said, and pulled a lighter out oh his pocket. "I killed Satan with this," he explained to the unconscious pony, "and now I'm going to kill you with it." He struck it, and held it under one of the roots that hung from the ceiling. Laughing, he walked away from the growing blaze and headed back into the forest. "GOD HATES FAGS." echoed across the placid, tranquil, peaceful forest as the fired grew and grew, collapsing the cottage. Author's Note WOW THERE. Is exactly what you're thinking. My response. Eh. Well, I want to thank Killer Steel for helping me out on Sype. He's a great guy. I would give him a Klub Kard but I gave mine all away. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
DarrelDarrel sighed as he picked up his picket fence that read, "It was Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve!" and grabbed his hat that declared, "GOD HATES QUEERS." He felt proud to wear and wield such items, but today was a little different. Anonymous had just penetrated their firewall that was protected by God and their personal information was flowing like blood across the internet. It was a bad deal forever one involved in the Westboro Baptist Church. They were an strong group of Christians, no matter how stupid the rest of the world was. He had found himself in the Church after a number of protests that were advertised on the Television. He had just bought one in the cottage he was currently living in. He was so inspired by the Protesters that he wanted to join them. After a year of membership, he finally felt alive. He then joined the Klu Klux Klan and became one of the most prominent members in the group. They had fun roasting things together. Hanging pamphlets around the town(mostly on trees). These organizations had allowed him to fellowship and feel loved and accepted. He loved to share his thoughts on faggots, blacks, Mexicans, Towel heads, and every other race with almost anyone he saw. If they back talked him, he would show up at their house in his favorite hood and bed sheet to scare them. It worked almost all the time. "Darrel, you done get your sign an hat?" His wife was at the bottom of the stairs, tapping her foot impatiently. "I gottem darling, I just a minute ya know?" He stared pensively across his room, thinking about what was going to happen today. "Dear, we gotta show them pony queers God's wrath! Now come on and grab your shotgun. We gotta teach some queers a lesson." There was a hint of urgency in her voice that stirred up his inner bigot and called him to his senses. "You're right dear, these Brony faggots don't deserve God's love." He stamped down the stairs, grabbing his shotgun along the way. "That's right, lets show em!" Dana, his wife, trailed behind him, chuckling under her breath. As they left their cottage and climbed into their truck, Darrel was reminded about why he moved to New York in the first place. In the countryside it smelled beautifully, and was a great place for Klan meetings as well. Ah New York, he though, I love you so much He put the keys into the ignition and the car sputtered to life. Dana grabbed his hand and held it, and he stared back into her green eyes. Dana was his sister, and Darrel had long admired her from when she was 12. When she was 16, he ran off with her and got "married" in Arkansas. After 2 years of avoiding the police and their parents, they moved to New York where the prospects of becoming the Grand Wizard of the area were pretty high, and where the Westboro Church had some influence. As they pealed away from their cottage in the wood, the could smell the fire from the Klan meeting just the night before. What a meeting that was. "Darling, do you know where to go?" Dana inquired. "Yes I do! Manhattan to some Brony Faggot Convention thingy. Those Bronies is not natural and should be wiped off that face of God's green earth." There was some obvious resentment in Darrel's voice, but it was God's calling to him to destroy the unnatural. Hours passed, and the Taylor Swift songs kept on repeating and repeating and repeating until finally Manhattan was insight. "We're almost their dear! So close!" Dana was exuberant. She finally could be used as God's hand in the world. A tool for justice. "Now, we're supposed to meet the others around that convention center. Lets go." Darrel floored it, heading towards that very convention center. 20 minutes passed, and the natural couple finally arrived at their destination. He could see the others from his Church all ready to go. Big Joe was in his Ford rocking a shotgun. Johnny was in the bed of Big Joe's truck with a rifle. They all flashed Darrel a smile. Darrel smiled back, and stepped out of the crappy truck that he had stolen. He grabbed his shotgun and the others followed suit. "You ready to kill some queers?" Big Joe asked. "You bet. I'd kill anything pony related right now." Darrel coolly answered. They could see the stream of happy teenagers entering into the convention center, all wearing brightly colored shirts with various ponies depicted on them. That sight filled Darrel with rage. "Come on. Lets go!" Darrel leveled his shotgun, ran towards a young boy, probably 16, and fired. Noting happened. The boy looked in shock,and the crowd stopped, stared and screams split the air as more round were fired. But none of them hit. "What the hell?" Darrel spat on the ground, looking into the barrel of his shotgun. "Why aint it..." BAM! The shotgun fired, spewing bits of Darrels head all over the ground. Dana screamed and the others panicked and ran back to their trucks. In Darrels mind a voice called out. "Sir, please wake up." "Ughghhghg." was his only reply. "Sir! We need you to wake up!" A rough object pushed him. His eyes cracked open. He could see a sliver of color. A little purple and pink. His eyes widened just and bit and he saw what had pushed him. It was a hoof. Darrel shook his head and stared at the owner. It was a pony. "Hello! Welcome to Equestria!" The purple pony said, smiling at the human in front of her. "OH SHIT! NOT ME!" Darrel screamed, and fainted. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ Darrel's eyes once more flickered open. He was immediately bombarded with colors from a world he thought did not exist. "What the hell is this.." he murmured, very confused at his surroundings. He was in a library, with things people told him were called "books". He had never read any, while except for the pamphlets the Klan handed out at the monthly meetings. But those weren't really "books". They were novels. Darrel shifted around, staring around the massive book place and took note of his surroundings. He was in enemy territory and he must survive. "Oh, he's finally awake!" A purple pony ran up to the waking Caucasian. "Get away from me you dirty fag pony!" Darrel screamed, pushing away from the charging mare. "Whats a fag?" the pony asked, turning her head sideways in an inquisitive stare. "You is a fag!" Darrel said, pointing a shaking finger at the unicorn. "No," the pony said, "I am Twilight Sparkle. But what is this word?" She again gave Darrel a puzzled look, as if he had an answer for her. "A fag is something that isn't natural. Like you pony things." He was still backed up in a defensive mode that Twilight immediately identified as a stance primitive creatures took when they felt threatened. "Well, I am sorry you feel that way," Twilight began, "can we still be friends?" Darrel was shocked. He had never had a friend before. Well except for his sister/wife. But he wasn't about to make friends with a pony fag. "Never!" Darrel shouted. Twilight looked downtrodden and turned to leave. "Can I at least have your name?" She said, tears in her eyes. "Ya sure, it's Darrel." He said coldly. He listened until the clopping had stopped,and began to plot his escape. Author's Note Well, this isn't what I usually write about. I hope you enjoy it though!
Fire and StuffA pounding could be heard from Golden Oaks Library. Ponies in the street turned their heads in confusion. They murmured among themselves, wondering what was causing that din. “What the…” Twilight had just stepped into the square, and heard the sounds of hammering. “Twilight what is going on in there!” demanded a Cyan Pegasus. “I have no idea Rainbow Dash. I’m as clueless….” She then remembered the Neanderthal that she had left in the library. She quickly cantered up to the door and pushed with all her might, but the door held fast. “TAKE THAT PONY FAGS! I AINT GIVIN UP!” screamed Darrel, his primal instincts kicking in. “Please Darrel! Let me in!” pleaded Twilight, pushing against the door with magic now. But it staid fast. “Never! Ya’ll queers get away from me! You’re trying to infect me with your faggotry!” Darrel exclaimed and continued hammering away. He had taken apart the bookshelves inside and had found a hammer in the depths of the library along with some nails. So he had used the claw to destroy the shelves and hammer then to the doors and windows. He promised himself that he would not let them ponies into anywhere near him. He had made a cross out of some of the boards and was preparing to hoist it on top of the tree when a sleepy voice interrupted his activity. “Uhh Twilight, can you stop the noise… Wow! Who are you?!” A little green dragon had appeared from the upper part of the tree house. “Ah!” cried Darrel, “ITS SATAN!” he grabbed the cross and began to slowly approach the evil demon, chanting Bible verses in rapid succession. “GET THEE HENCE SATAN!” Spike looked behind him, sort of confused like, and then down at his scales. “I don’t get it…” he said, confused even more. Darrel advanced quickly, swinging his make shift cross at the Great Satan. Spike dashed out of the way, and accidently burped fire. That gave Darrel an idea... ___________________________________________________________________________________________________ The noise had ceased and the ponies in the square had all went on their way. But in the house was a different story. “Satan get back here!” Darrel yelled, scrambling after the scaly demon. “Get away from me! TWILIGHT!” Spike yelled. Twilight had been at the front door the entire time, banging and using magic to try to gain access to her house. But Darrel’s skill made it nearly impossible to get in. He had been making gallows for his fellow Klansmen for years. “Hush your demonic cry Satan!” Darrel said, and dove to grab the tiny dragon. “Nooooo!!!” Spike cried as he fell under the weight of the human. “Gotcha! Now, where’s my cross…” after grabbing his weapon, Darrel took Spike and the cross . They climbed the tree until they had reached the top, Spike shaking the entire time. “What are you going to do?” Quivered Spike. “Show these fags whats what!” Darrel grabbed the cross, and tied it to the tree with ropes attaching it firmly on top. Then, he grabbed Spike and pointed his mouth at the cross. “Light it now!” He demanded. “Uhhhh ok!” Spike cried and burped a flame that covered the cross. But nothing happened. “Why isnt it on fire!” Darrel said, confused at why Satan’s fire hadn’t lit the cross on fire. “I’m a messenger dragon!” pronounced Spike, rubbing his side from where Darrel’s hands had clamped down to hard. “You’re Satan! Not a dragon!” Darrel yelled at the tiny dragon, whilst searching his jeans for a lighter. He never went anywhere without one. “Ah! Here it is!” he exclaimed when he found his signature lighter with an etched “God Hates Fags” on it. He struck it twice against the wood of the cross until finally he had gotten a fire started. Then, he quickly retreated down the tree and climbed back into the comfort of his hijacked home. The cross was now inflames, which brought tears to Darrel’s eyes. He even began to stroke Spikes head for the love of the symbol that made him happy. The next thing he did was raid the bedrooms and gather sheets together. He began to cut, using the knife he always carried with him, and create a marvelous outfit. The entire time, Spike(or Satan) was tied up in the upstairs closet. Darrel hummed while he worked, “Stitch by stitch putting it together.” Then stopped humming because he had no idea where that was from. “Stupid pony fags…” He murmured, while measuring himself for the proper white garb. The outfit was almost done and the banging on the door had stopped completely, allowing Darrel to focus on creating the perfect outfit. “This is going to be the best night ever!” He exclaimed after the outfit was completed. It featured a high white hood, with a completely white body that gave the impression of a ghost to all who would see the outfit. With the outfit complete, he put it on, and stared in a random mirror he found in the bathroom. He looked good. Reallll good. But he began to feel some heat, as if the entire house was on fire. Weird,he thought¸must be nothing. Little did he realize that the fire he had started on the top of the tree had spread, well, as most fires do. The fire had consumed most of the tree house, and was starting to spread into the library with surprising speed. Darrel stepped out of the upper room, and stared in horror at the blaze he had started. “Oh praise the Lord! Have mercy on my soul!” he yelled, as he dodged flaming copies of My Little Dashie. He quickly darted out of the flaming mess that he had caused, still wearing his outfit, and into the streets of Ponyville. As he burst out of the library, he hit Twilight in the face with a door and heard someone say, “I told you Twilight that my Pinkie senses are never wrong.” Ignoring the random voice, he screamed, “THIS IS THE BEST NIGHT EVER.”
Zecora and Stuff"Gawd consarn it!" Darrel yelled. His white robe was muddied from him running away from the blaze that had quickly consumed the library. He had been so concerned about escaping with his life that he had forgotten about the tiny Satan he had left locked up in the closet. "Oh well," he muttered, scraping some dirt off his shoes, "Satan needed to die anyway." After a minute of removing mud from the bottom of his sneakers, he put his hood back on and ran towards the forest, trying to go to the most desolate part of this faggoty place. He could here screams coming from the town, but he could care less. "These pony fags deserve death!" He confirmed to himself, reaffirming his belief that God hated this fag nation and these pony queers deserved to die. Also, Satan needed to die, but that had already been accomplished. As he traveled further and further into the forest, the screams became less and less audible and the sounds of the forest became louder and louder. He could finally relax. He leaned up against a tree, catching his breath. I wonder how Dana is doing? he thought, as the image of his wife/sister came to his face. He missed her. Like a lot. He was awoken from his day dream by the sound of a twig snapping. "Who's there!" He called out, crouching down to spring at the unknown. "My name is Zecora, to what you ask, Who are you, one with the mask?" said a surprisingly African voice. He froze after hearing her. They have niggers here too! he thought, his mind racked with the problems that the place had. He slowly backed away , trying to avoid the minority that had suddenly disrupted a perfect escape from faggotry and Satan. The sound had ceased, the background noise finally vacant. All of Darrel's focus was poured into his observation of the corner, his heartbeat replacing the rhythm of hooves beating on stone as he awaited the three fifth pony's arrival. Leave, leave, leave he kept thinking to himself, while finding cover behind a tree. His hood was hot and he was starting to sweat. Consarn it he thought, tempted to remove the hood, but stayed still as a confrontation with a minority was worse that sweating. So he toughed it out. There was a sudden snap, as twigs broke underneath the hooves of an approaching pony. "You think you really safe in here Stand up we about to take it there." Said the Africa pony, trying to intimidate the shadow she had seen. After a minute of nothing but silence, the zigger turned and went deeper into the forest. Once he was certain the coast was clear, Darrel stepped out from behind the tree. He looked around the now tranquil forest, seeing nothing he continued to head deeper into the forest, at an angle that would lead him away from the nigger pony. He forged his way through the thick undergrowth, and as he trudged forward he could hear the birds singing sweetly as they darted in and out of the trees. This was a time for him to relax and finally be at peace in the world of fag enablers. He reached into the pocket that he had made on his KKK outfit, and fished around to see what he had on him. He had his signature "God Hates Fags" lighter and matching hat. But his fingers brushed against plastic. He pulled out this mysterious object. It was his Klu Klux Klan Klub Kard. He had received it after his first lynching, from the Grand Wizard himself. The moment was an emotional one, as the Grand Wizard reached out with his staff and granted Darrel membership into the Klan. On the front, it showed three hooded figures hugging, while in the background a campfire was smoldering and a rope lay unused on the ground. He flipped it out and saw his name in gold printed in the middle, with his membership number in the left had corner. Underneath his name were the three tenants of being a Klansman: First, Never Tolerate Minorities(back of the bus Rosa.) Second, Always Hide the Bodies Third, Obey the Grand Wizard He looked over them again, nodding each time. But something didn't seem right, and as he started over he realized what it was. He had failed the first tenant. He had tolerated a Minority, albeit a pony, but a minority nonetheless. He knew what he had to do, and crammed his Klub Kard into his pocket and took off in the direction where he had last heard that nigger. "I'm gonna do you in," he murmured as he dashed quickly back. I've been dreaming, been waiting he thought, as he neared the tree that had saved his life. Once Darrel reached the spot where he had almost been contaminated, he looked at the ground for the sign of hoof prints and spotting some, he took off in the direction that they led. _____________________________________________________________________________________ Zecora had just plugged in her Lil Mayne CD and turned it to "Hello World" when there was a knock on the door. "I aint a peacemaker, I'm the peacetaker I'm very destructive, watch me break ya," she said while she trotted up to the door. She stared into the peephole she had installed, but saw no one. She shook her head, and returned to Lil Mayne. But, just as he was spitting about, "shoot you on the front porch and knock ya to the back yard," there was another knock on her door. "Who's that knocking knocking on my door," She called out, dropping the rhyme pattern. "A lonely stranger looking for a place to stay." Was the answer. Zecora trotted up, and unlocked the door. "Welcome,dear sir..." was all she could get out. "Shut it zigger, I know what you're up to," A hooded white figure said, "and I'm going to put an end to it." The hooded man lifted his fists and punched Zecora with all his strength. She was out cold. Darrel lifted the hood off his head, smiling at the knocked out zigger. "You gonna pay for being a fag minority." he said, and pulled a lighter out oh his pocket. "I killed Satan with this," he explained to the unconscious pony, "and now I'm going to kill you with it." He struck it, and held it under one of the roots that hung from the ceiling. Laughing, he walked away from the growing blaze and headed back into the forest. "GOD HATES FAGS." echoed across the placid, tranquil, peaceful forest as the fired grew and grew, collapsing the cottage. Author's Note WOW THERE. Is exactly what you're thinking. My response. Eh. Well, I want to thank Killer Steel for helping me out on Sype. He's a great guy. I would give him a Klub Kard but I gave mine all away. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
