"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!