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Dangerous Amoeba - What just happened? (Edge warning) Status: CUFN
By rmpCreated: 2020-12-19 06:16:03
Expiry: Never
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Author: Dangerous Amoeba
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Pastebin URL: rzZKaag5.html
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Date: Oct 20th, 2014
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>”Celestia damn it! That stallion is gonna go mess with somepony again.”
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>”Tough splint? The one that beat up that poor Big Mac?
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>”Yea that’s the one. Guy’s no good, but no stallion can even scratch him. One of these days, we girls gotta do something.”
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>”What? Tell him to stop, that isn’t gonna do apples, about this.”
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>”We all told him a bunch of times. Nah, I rather teach him a lesson, put a hoof in those pretty teeth of his.”
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>”And some mare lookin to score helps him, and then you get a year, at best, for hitting a stallion.”
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>”I know, I won’t do anything, girl can dream, right?”
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>”It begins!”
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>You stand by the large wooden cart, loaded to the brim, apples filling every basket and shelf, some spots reserved for other products made of the fruit.
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>In front of you is Big Mac, next to the cart, checking his cart supplies.
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>”Thanks fer yer help, Ah’non. Ah coulda never been done harvestin that field with Apple Jack gone.”
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“Nonsense, Mac. Anytime you need help, just ask, not like I do anything anyway.”
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>”Ya’re a fine stallion Anon. should ah pay ya now, or later?”
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“Woah, I never said anything about a pay. Don’t worry about it Mac, just helping a friend.”
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>”Are ya sure? Ahm countin this as an apple family favour anyway. If ya sure ya don’t want no-“
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>The Red stallion stops mid word, and his eyes widen to a location behind you, fear in his eyes and facial expression.
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>A moment later, he turns his head and stares at his hooves, while nervously fidgeting.
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>You turn around and move slightly out of the way. Your new field of vision holds a big stallion, standing just below your pecks.
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>His coat is a light leather brown, his hair dirty blond, eyes a dark crimson.
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>”Hey Mac! Ya doin good?”
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>His voice is mischievously playful, somewhat deep.
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>”E-ee-eeyup.”
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>You now notice 2 other average stallions standing about 7 meters from the stall. Both with shit eating grins seemingly directed at you.
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>Wanting to wipe that grin off their face, you perform a light snarl, especially showing off your left canines.
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>They see this, and somewhat recoil back.
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>Directing your attention back to the “boss” stallion. He is slowly eating an apple, talking to Big Mac, who is clearly scared for some reason.
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>”So yea Mac, I gotta say, ya put up the best fight.”
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>The stallion turns to you wearing the same shit-eating grin his friends had not a few seconds ago.
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>”What about yer friend here Mac? Who’s he?”
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>Mac is scared shitless, shaking even. He nervously looks everywhere, trying to avoid eye contact, and stutters like he has a speech impediment.
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>”He-he just visitin, don’t worry about him. H-he ain’t ever h-hurt a fly.”
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>Suddenly, the stallion grabs Big Mac by the neck using his fore hooves.
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>”Ya think this I’m playing, Mac? Ya think this is a mother bucking game?”
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>”N-n-n-no!”
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>”No, what?!”
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>”N-No, sir!”
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>Quickly scanning around, you see all eyes looking at the scene with pity.
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>Turning back to the stallion screaming about how he was going to ‘take care of the both of us’, right before a hoof sweeps macs face.
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>Causing the red stallion to hit the floor and curl up into a ball, his hooves protecting his head.
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>Facing you again, the stallion seems to be having fun and hardly looks mad more than just somewhat huffing. Like he just did some warm ups.
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>”You! Ya know who the buck I am?!”
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“You can swear you know, just say fucking. But no I don’t know.”
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>”Wise guy, eh? When I’m done, ya won’t be makin any jokes, for a while.”
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>The stallion huffs and pumps his cheeks out, and snorts with a mist, through his nose.
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>Without further warning, the stallion charges at you with a war cry like scream.
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>He stands mainly on his hind legs, using his fore hooves to attack you, somewhat stretching to reach your taller figure. You block his attacks easily, with your left arm.
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>He repeatedly hits you aiming for the chest region, with the force of an above average 10 year old.
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>Eyes of sympathy fall on you, and some mares comfort stallions looking away in pity and fear.
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“Can you stop that?”
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>You ask the question in mild annoyance, and a hint of anger crawls into the words.
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>The stallion starts panting and between huffs manages to say a few words.
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>”What *huff* you *huff*huff* gonna *huff* do *huff*?”
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>Getting annoyed, you answer his question.
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>Pushing the stallion away as he gets on hind legs to strike, causing him to fall on his back, and quickly get up.
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>He charges at you again. You lift your right arm into the air, all 5 fingers making a fist. Simultaneously aiming at the stallions head.
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>Bringing your arm down as the stallion begins a leap. Your fist collides above his right orbital ridge, at a force of no less than 3000 newtons.
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>The stallion rag dolls lefts before hitting the dirt ground and dragging a little, generating a proportional dust cloud, ending up a few meters from you.
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>All the onlookers watch in awe and disbelief.
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>You’re somewhat unimpressed.
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“That’s it?”
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>One by one the entire market place floods with the sound of stomping hooves and cheers of your name.
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>Looking over to the stall, Big Mac is lying on the ground peeking through his hooves.
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>You walk over calmly, and kneel down next to your terrified friend.
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>”How did ya-?”
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>Mac begins to ask, but then just leaps wrapping his for hooves around your neck and gently sobs.
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>”Ah! Ahms, sorry, ah didn’t help you! Did he hurt ya?”
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>You scratch him behind the ear, confused to all hell.
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“No Mac I’m fine. Don’t worry, everything is alright.”
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>After a few minutes of sobbing, You help Big Mac pack up his stall and take him to sweet apple acres.
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>He had a black eye from the attack, as well redness in both ocular organs from crying.
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>On your way home, stallions and mares cheer you on; some give you little trinkets and treats, a mare even gives you a basket to help carry all the treats. Word travels fast.
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>Getting to sweet apple acres, Mac leaves the cart in the shaded cool area of the barn. He then leads you to the farmhouse.
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>No one’s here, Mac walks to the kitchen and gets you a bottle of special apple family cider.
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>You sit on their couch with the cider mug in your hand, Mac looking at you as if you’re his crush, which you might be.
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>Staring into nothing, you look at the basket of things given to you. Some pricey desserts as well as little pieces of art and such overfill it.
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>You look down at the special apple family private cider, according to Mac it takes 9 months to make and made from a secret recipe. Only apple family has access to it.
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>Finally, your gaze wanders back to Big Mac, who is still giddy with joy, and awe, like Scootaloo is with Rainbow Dash.
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>Your beyond confused state asks a simple question.
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“Oi, what just happened?”
by rmp
by rmp
by rmp