Metaphysical, Metaphorical, and Other Large "M' Words
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A Short Story of a Lonely Guy
Metaphysical, Metaphorical, and Other Large "M' Words
Metaphysical, Metaphorical, and Other Large "M' Words
Caramel didn’t want to wake up. He never did. The warm, inviting bed wanted to keep him in, and he wanted to stay in. This bed was his home, and there was no way they were going to be separated.
Unfortunately for him, his home was repossessed as a mare with the same caramel-yellow shaded coat as his took the blankets, rolled him up like a phat blunt, and shook him out onto the floor.
“If you’re going to live with me,” she scolded the frumpled pony on the floor. “You’re not going to muck up the house all day with your stale flank!”
“Mom, come on,” Caramel moaned. He took a disheveled look at the clock, his eyes widening when he saw the time. “Mom, it’s 5 o’clock in the morning!”
“5:03, if you’re going to play that game!” His mother rolled the stallions tired body to the doorframe. “And that’s three minutes too much! Go out and do something with your life! Get a job so you can live elsewhere, and then you can sleep in all you want!”
Caramel slowly got to his hooves, rubbing his eyes as he did so.
“You know,” he said with a yawn. “I think I know why dad divorced you.”
Caramel’s mom gave him a bit of a surprised look. “We didn’t divorce! I was widowed!”
The mare’s son stopped dead in his tracks. “What? You were? Why am I learning of this now? You told me he walked out when I was six!”
“Well, mommy would have been in a lot of trouble if anyone had found out, and because you and your friends are such big blathermouths—”
“I was the quiet one, and besides, Mom, the only friend I had at six was Big Macintosh!” Caramel frowned. “And he started talking at the age of nine.”
It had been a fine spring day, where nine year old Caramel and Big Macintosh were drawing flowers for art class.
“Pass the blue, please.” Big Macintosh’s voice was deep, even back then.
“HOLY CRAP! YOU CAN TALK?” Caramel practically screamed, his eyes bugging out of his head.
“Eeyup.”
“Why haven’t you said anything before?!”
The red stallion frowned. “Up until now, everythin’s been satisfactory.”
Caramel’s mother’s eyes narrowed. “He always was a strange one, that Apple boy. Still, quite a good lay.”
“Yeah, he is a—” Caramel stopped, looked at his mom, counted back from ten, rewound that last sentence she spoke, then approached it in the most intelligent way possible.
“Wuuuuhh?”
His mother licked her lips suggestivly. “Well, a mare has her needs, Caramel, and Big Mac sure got around! He’s slept with with me, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy—”
“Ok, mom—”
“Cheerilee, Lyra, Bon Bon, Candy Mane, Cloudkicker—”
“Ok, mom!”
“Applejack, Thunderlane’s mother, Thunderlane himself, Applebloom, Rarity, Sweetie Belle, Rainbow Dash—”
“MOM!”
“Granny Smith, Winona, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, Diamond Tiara and her father Filthy Rich, that one timberwolf that one time—”
“Ok, ok!” Caramel waved his hooves frantically to signify stop. “I get it!”
His mother smiled. “Good! Now get out of my house!”
And so, Caramel was unceremoniously booted to the curb of his house, where the early morning attacked him with cold air and creepy shadows. he sat there for a long time, going over the fresh knowledge that his best friend had buggered practically everyone in town.
Caramel ended up dozing off waiting for Celestia to raise the sun, and when he came too the light blinded him momentarily. He yawned widely, stretched, and began to blink rapidly. His ear flicked slightly as he began his mourning routine all over again. He heard a crunch behind him, and the slightly spooked pony spun around.
There was nothing behind him. Sighing in relief, he turned around again, coming snout to snout with none other than Big Macintosh.
“AAAH!” Caramel’s heart skipped a beat or seven. Big Mac continued to give his nondescript gaze to Caramel, who was now gasping for air. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Mac!”
“Any reason you were outside?”
Caramel sighed, his heart still beating too fast for his liking. “Ugh... it’s my mom. She’s been kicking me out of the house lately. Do you have any idea how annoying that is?”
“Eeyup.”
“See? I knew somepony like you wouldn’t have that problem— say what now?”
Big Macintosh nodded. “Granny Smith used to put mah bed outside in the rain if Ah didn’t wake up on time to do mah chores in the mornin’. I learned REAL fast after that started happenin’.”
“What if it wasn’t raining?”
Big Mac smiled. “Then Ah ended up getting sunburnt. Nopony could tell on account of mah red coat, but it stang like nothin’ you’d ever believe.”
Caramel nodded in acknowledgment to this, and began hoofing the dirt in front of him. “Did you really do it?”
Big Mac shot the other stallion a look of confusion. Caramel went on to clarify his statement.
“Y’know, sleep with my mom?”
Big Mac looked deep into Caramel’s eyes, and responded with a resounding “Eeyup.”
Caramel stuck his tongue out in squickiness. “Dude, come on! What’s that all about?”
“Ah was sixteen and hornier than a bull. Your ma offered, so...” Big Mac shrugged. “Ah slept with a lot of ponies back then. I managed to rein mahself in, Ah like to think.”
“Including your sisters?” Big Mac blushed so furiously that Caramel was almost sure that there was no deeper shade of red on the planet to be found.
Caramel took some pity on his large friend, who was now staring down at the ground. “Look, I’m sorry for bringing that up. Just my mom decided to drop the whole thing on me this morning, so...”
Big Mac still stared silently at the ground, so Caramel continued. “It’s just that she’s so neurotic and... well, batshit insane now! I can’t even see her as the mare who raised me anymore. The one who used to buy apples from your family and cover them in caramel for us after school. The one who used to play board games with me every thursday night. I mean, I know I’ve grown up now, but she’s changed entirely! I’m almost twenty-six, but...” Caramel sighed. “I even miss that weird hippie thing she used to do where she squeezed my arm and said she was ‘pumping love’ into me.”
“Hehe, I was pumping plenty of love into that bitch last night! Zing!” The voice came from above the two earthbound stallions, but the two knew it all too well to look up and acknowledge the pegasi’s presence.
“Hello, Thunderlane...” the two droned in unison.
“Yo, ya jerkoffs! What’s hanging?” Thunderlane was... well, a douche. There’s really no other way to describe him. He was crude, rash, and generally jerky. However, Big Mac and Caramel hung around him because they still clung to the probably false hope that there was a heart of gold somewhere under all those layers of douche.
“Not much,” Caramel quipped.
“Eeyup.”
“Well, I’m here to change that!” Thunderlane gave a confident smile. “We’re gonna pick up some chicks to bang tonight!”
Subtly was never his strong point.
“What, Big Mac wasn’t enough for you?” Caramel snarked with a bit of a side grin.
Thunderlane paled. “What? Dude, that was only, like, one time! I ain’t no colt cuddler!”
“‘I’m not a colt cuddler’ is what you should have said,” Caramel corrected, rolling his large eyes at the jerkass pegasus before him. Thunderlane scowled.
“Don’t be such a grammar neighzi. And besides, I didn’t sleep with Big Mac, right Mac?”
“Nnnope.”
Thunderlane grinned, his ego reinflating somewhat. “See, I told you so— wait, that was ‘nope’ as in ‘nope, I didn’t sleep with you, Thunderlane’?”
“Nnnope.”
Thunderlane scowled. “Some friend you are. Anyway, that was like, seven years ago or some late shit like that.”
Caramel scoffed at this. “More like a seven DAYS ago!”
“Five,” Big Mac put in.
“Anyway,” Thunderlane said, changing the subject as fast as he could. “We gotta go pick up some chicks! This’ll be legendary, my good gentlecolts, legendary!”
“Why does that sound familiar?”
“Quiet, dingus,” Thunderlane said. “We’ve got pussy to conquer!”
The overambitious pegasus grabbed his two friends around their shoulders and held them close. “We’re gonna have the best eleven-way on the whole planet of Equus!”
Caramel tried to wiggle his way out of the grip Thunderlane had on him. After much squirming and squiggling to no avail, he gave up, exhausted. Big Mac stopped hard on Thunderlane’s hoof, who quickly relinquished the two after that.
“Where are we even going to score eight mares?” Caramel asked, rubbing the back of his neck painfully.
“Eight?” Thunderlane asked with his eyes wide. Slowly, the narrowed as he seemed to recall something. “Oh yeah, I guess if we include you we’ll only need eight mares. Well, Macky can ask Applejack to get in on it—”
“Don’t call me Macky,” Big Macintosh said.
Thundelane rolled his eyes. “Fine. We can always get BIG CRYBABY MACINTOSH to ask his sister to join in on the eleven-way—”
“Nnnope.”
“Why not?”
Big Macintosh snorted. “Ah don’t do that sorta thing anymore.”
Thunderlane fell on his knees, gazing up at Big Macintosh with puppy eyes. “Pleeaase?” He pleaded. “It’s not like YOU have to fuck ‘er! I’ll take over her, and if for some reason I can’t take her, I’ll get her on one of the other mares.”
“Hey!” Caramel said indigently. “What about me?”
“Nah,” Thunderlane said in an off-hoof way. “She’s way out of your league. You’re more of a Roseluck/Derpy guy.”
Caramel frowned. “Her name is Ditzy.”
“See, this is exactly why you’re down on their level,” Thunderlane explained to Caramel as though he were talking to an obstinate toddler. “You treat mares like they’re ponies, and not simply prey for us lustful stallions to hunt down and fuck.”
Somewhere, dimensions away, a woman by the name of Robin who was putting her son to bed took a double take.
“For some reason, I feel like punching someone in the face now.”
Back in Equestria, the stallions had gone down the local club, The Plot Hole, to score some mares for their grand scheme. The three swaggered in each in their own unique ways in attempts to gather females. Thunderlane trotted in in the douchiest way imaginable; Big Macintosh entered in a nondescript, silent fashion; and Caramel didn’t so much swagger as he did cower from the bouncer who looked like he was about to sodomise Caramel at any moment.
“Alright you cunt canoes, spread out. We need to optimize mare turnout!” Thunderlane slid on a pare of shades, causing his douche levels to rise to previously uncharted heights.
“Um, why are we at a strip club looking for mares?” Caramel asked. “All the ponies who dance her are mares.”
Thunderlane shook his head condescendingly. “C’mon, kid! Have you taken a good look at the town recently? We’re seriously like the only single dudes around!”
“I used to have a girlfriend,” Caramel said dejectedly.
“USED to being the keyword here,” Thunderlane pointed out. “Now, Mac’ll be able to attract chicks easily, girls LOVE the strong silent type. I, of course, will be bringing in the majority of them with my pure unadulterated swag, and Caramel... just try and stand in a corner and not cause too much damage.”
Caramel pouted, and looked at the club before him. Light beams, smoke, loud DJ-PON3 music playing, and mares gyrating on poles with bits showering them like giant golden raindrops.
Thunderlane smirked. “I got this shit.” The cocky pegasus rolled up next to a bored looking pink mare who was slowly dishing out bits to the stripper and cleared his throat.
“We should bang.”
Instantly, the mare threw herself on the dickbag, kissing every inch of his muzzle and body she could reach. Thunderlane’s smug smirk grew even bigger and he nodded in self-approval at Caramel. Soon, the mare’s friend had jined in, the three of them rolling around on the floor in a make-out session.
Big Macintosh hadn’t done anything in particular other than scratch the back of his head, but Thunderlane’s assumption about mares going crazy over the strong and silent type were right; he was practically covered in mares. They were fawning over him, brushing his hair all around and begging to be the lucky ones to get a lay from him.
“I love your mane!” fawned one.
“Your so silent and mysterious...” another one clichéd.
“Eeyup.”
Caramel watched as his two best friends were smothered in potential partners. He knew he would have to suck it up and try to grab a mare for himself so that he didn’t feel like a complete loser.
Building up his confidence, the shaking stallion slowly trotted over to a yellow mare with a brown mane who was sitting alone at a booth. He sat down next to her, and took a deep breath.
“H-hi, I was wondering if—” Caramel began meekly, stopping as the mare punched him in the muzzle with the force of a small car, sending him flying out of the booth and onto the floor. The mare loomed over him, her face contorted in anger as she spat words at him.
“So, you thought you’d take advantage of me, huh? See me sitting in the booth all alone, trying to lure me outside into an alleyway somewhere where you could rape me?”
Caramel’s eyes widened. “No, no! That’s not what I was trying to do at all! All I said was ‘hi’—”
The mare’s anger only seemed to rise. “You stallions think you own all of Equestria! Trying to force yourselves on mares like us and keep us like slaves!”
“What? First of all, all I said was ‘hi’, and second of all, mares outnumber stallions 10-1 in Equestria! Fuck, we run on a matriarchy! And as far as I can tell, mares and stallions are treated equally!”
“Oh, you just said the wrong thing, you chauvinistic pig!” The mare turned around and bucked Caramel in his crotch as hard as she could. The poor stallion slid another five feet away from the mare as blinding hot pain seared through every inch of his body. His hooves flew to the sensitive ares that had just been pummeled as he rocked back and forth, tears forming in his eyes from the agony.
But the mare wasn’t done there. She had gone back to her table, taken to her purse, and came back with a small bottle of pepper spray. “I’m glad I keep this with me so I can defend myself from monsters like you!”
Caramel, who had been writhing in pain from the nut-shot, had no idea that the crazed mare had a bottle of pepper spray. He foolishly opened his eyes and look in the direction of that mare’s voice as a torrent of the defensive spray assailed his eyes.
“AAAAAAAAAAHHH!” Caramel’s voice had risen several octaves from his ball-bashing. The pain in his eyes sky-rocketed his agony to beyond his feeble comprehension of the subject matter, his mind being ripped asunder from the abuse.
“What’s going on, Feminista?” Another mare who had joined the mare who had been assaulting Carmel asked.
“This scumfuck stallion tried to take advantage of me!”
The mare gasped as Feminista relayed this bit of info to her. “He didn’t!”
“Oh, but he did,” Feminista said with a growl. “Help me avenge all the mares who have ever been abused by stallions by taking it out on him!”
The two mares nodded to each other, and began to beat ever inch of Caramel they could reach. The poor colt was in so much pain that he could feel himself blacking out. It was like a voice sent from heaven when the bouncer showed up.
“There a problem here, ladies?”
“This pig thinks he can take advantage of us,” one of the mares explained. “We’re teaching him a lesson!”
The bouncer sighed and shook his head. “Girls, girls, girls... I know he must have been giving you a hard time, but you can’t do that!”
Caramel smiled though his blood and bruises up at the bouncer. “Th.. thank... you...”
The bouncer smiled a cruel smile. “That’s MY job!”
Caramel squeaked as the bouncer pulled out a taser and shocked it directly onto his throbbing crotch. Large volts of electricity pumped through the pulverized stallion, sending him through another wave of intense pain. When the bouncer pulled the taser off, Caramel could swear he smelled hair frying.
“Now get out of here!” The bouncer heaved Caramel out the door, causing him to land in a heap of dirt and his own bodily fluids. Having not a shred of dignity left, he broke out into tears, each sob causing him more pain.
“HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?” he yelled out at the cruel, cruel world. He opened one eye and spied a sign out in front of the club.
“Shallow sluts and radical feminists drink free— tonight only.” Caramel fell back into a heap of despair, having learned a valuable lesson in reading warnings.
“Hey, you alright?” Caramel opened his eyes once more. A bright yellow pony with an orange mane smiled down at him. “You look a bit worse for ware.”
Caramel scoffed. “A bit?”
The mare held out her hoof, and Caramel accepted, allowing himself to be pulled to his hooves. “Really, though, what happened?”
Caramel noted the sincerity in her voice. “Ugh... I got beat up by some feminists.”
The mare cocked her head. “What did you DO?”
Caramel sighed painfully. “Nothing! All I did is say ‘hi’ to her!”
The mare giggled, causing Caramel to give her a look. “I’m sorry, but that’s kinda funny. But seriously, not all us mares are like us. Ponies like them are just a small sliver of the population.”
“Yeah, right,” Caramel scoffed.
“Come on, you got ponies like me!” Another giggle. “Besides, despite the black eyes, the blood, and bruising, you’re cute.”
The beaten stallion cracked a smile. “I am?”
The mare smiled back. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.”
And so, the two went on a long walk, discussing about the crazy world they lived in. They really struck a chord with each other, enjoying each other’s time, company, and sympathies. They soon began to feel an attraction, one so deep that even after just an hour of being around one another they were ready to get intimate. And they would have lived happily ever after except fro one small thing...
“HOLY SHIT, YOU’RE A DUDE!” Caramel ran out of the bedroom as fast as he could, knocking over a small table as he did so.
“Love knows no gender!” The mare’s voice was now decidedly deeper, and Caramel should have noticed earlier that those eyelashes were fake.
“We barely know each other!” Caramel wrenched the closet open and hid inside, burring himself in towels and linen. “Look, we rushed into this, I’m not sure I’m even ready for that kind of intimacy anyway...”
“You were willing to be ready for that intimacy when you thought I was a mare!” He/she said indignantly.
“Well, yeah...” Caramel wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
“You know what? Maybe you did deserve what the feminists dished out to you! You are a sexist pig! Get out of my house, go home, and think about what you’ve done!”
“This is my house,” Caramel pointed out.
“Well, get out anyway!”
Caramel was unceremoniously ousted from his home, finding himself in the same spot he’d been this morning. Big Mac and Thunderlane, accompanied by seven mares, trotted up to him a few minutes later.
“She was a dude, wasn’t she?”
Caramel looked over at Thunderlane. “How did you know?”
“You’ve got that look,” Thunderlane said sagely. “Anyway, we’re two mares short, Big Mac accidentally picked up two who weren’t shallow sluts.” Thunderlane rolled his eyes. “Pfft, stupid mares actually have self worth.”
“Your misogyny disgusts me,” Caramel spat with a scowl at Thunderlane.
“Eh, whatever. You’re not that great yourself, Mister. You just abandoned that poor tranny upstairs.”
“Actually, they kicked me out—”
“Point being, you had a chance to get some, and you didn’t jump at it!” Thunderlane shook his head sadly. “Sorry, dude, but you dun goofed.”
Caramel grit his teeth. “Fuck you.”
“Twenty bits, and then maybe we’ll talk,” Thunderlane retorted with a smirk. “Anyway, we’re still short two ponies for our eleven-way, so...”
“Did I here ‘eleven-way’?” Everypony looked up to see Caramel’s mother poking her head out of the upstairs window of the house. “Hell, I haven’t been in one of those in ages!”
The stallion/mare from before poked his/her head out as well. “Hay, I’m game for an eleven-way!”
Thunderlane’s grin widened. “That is BALLIN’! C’mon girls!” He and the giggling entourage of mares entered the house and went upstairs to join Caramel’s mother and the transvestite.
Big Macintosh stayed behind, and glanced down at Caramel sadly. Caramel shot a look back up at him, and sighed. “Why do these things happen to me, Mac?”
Big Macintosh turned away from the pulverized colt for a moment, and looked at the house. “Well, Caramel, you’ve just had a bad day. Bad days come around, and Thunderlane doesn’t exactly... help.”
“Your voice is really soothing,” Caramel noted.
“Eeyup.”
“But seriously! These mares treat me like crap! I can’t even attract shallow sluts who probably don’t even know what day it is.” Caramel sighed. “And then, I just get the shit beaten out of me by feminists for TALKING to them.”
Big Macintosh looked back at him. “Not all mares are like that, just like not all stallions are like Thunderlane, Caramel. You’ll find a good hardworking mare, who’s honest and kind, and who’ll treat yah right.”
Caramel smiled a small, hopeful smile. “Heh. Sounds kinda like your sister.”
“If you lay a hoof on Applejack, I will kill you.”
Caramel swallowed hard. “Dually noted.”
“Eeyup.” Big Macintosh left Caramel lying there and entered the house. Moments later, he heard Thunderlane’s excited voice call out.
“Dude, you finally joined us! Now the orgy can REALLY start!”
Caramel cringed, pain of the emotional and physical kinds rushing through him. Maybe it was time for him to just roll over and die.
“Hey now, stop that! I kind of rely on your living to keep ME alive!”
Caramel’s heart skipped a beat. “Who said that?”
“Me, dummy!” The voice was disembodied, and seemed to echo around the inside of his head.
“Are you my conscience?” Caramel asked tentatively.
“Um, no,” the voice responded. “More like the first warning sign that you’re going insane.”
“Oh.” Caramel continued to lay on his back, staring up at the sky. The late afternoon was upon Equestria. Princess Celestia was slowly sliding the sun down, and Princess Luna would soon be slowly causing it to rise.
“It’s quite a beautiful evening,” the voice said.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Well, fine then!” The voice was indignant. “Be that way! All I wanted was to talk to you and have a nice little chat, but you insist on being this introverted downer!”
Caramel frowned. “Now hey, come on! I’ve just had a pretty bad day! And besides, all I said was ‘yeah I guess’!”
“Exactly,” the voice said snidely. “That’s all you ever say. You’re not assertive enough, and that’s why that mare beat you!”
“Really?”
“Nah,” it said, almost chuckling. “She did it because she’s ill in the head. There are better ways to go about feminism then beating up any stallion who talks to you.”
“Well, I know that,” Caramel told the voice. “It’s just that... I can’t seem to do anything right!”
“Welp,” it responded, “Sucks to be you!”
The voice then faded from Caramel’s head, leaving him laying in the dirt on his back, watching the day turn to night, listening to the amazing sounds of orgy coming from his home.
