All this fuckin' white, by Phase 2


                                            [Copied from https://pastebin.com/cGtPYP25]


                                            >"Finally we meet in the street, come to my house, have a seat."

                                            >You blink, and grimace at her rhyming, and smile, saying the first thing to come to mind.

                                            "Holy shit nigger you are really black."

                                            >She nods her head, and puts on the wisest face she can.

                                            >"The Night world's mother shall listen to one another."

                                            >You shake your head, and elect not to continue.

                                            "What the…"

                                            >A few moments of silence pass as you all figure out what to do next.

                                            >Twilight, whom is to your left, breaks the ice.

                                            >"let's get on, Anon- we've places to be."

                                            >You stand there in the street.

                                            >She has golden loops around her neck, adjourned in regalia like the Equestrian Princess of Watermelon.

                                            >…Coming in to spend her welfare check.

                                            >You feel like you're in a racist 40's cartoon.

                                            >She walks the talk, but does the talk the-

                                            >That’s not right.

                                            >You know what you mean.

                                            "Hey, my nigga, living my life with my finguh at the trugguh."

                                            >She nods you on.

                                            "what are you in town for?"

                                            >"Through I could go till' I was orange, I do not bend like a door-hinge."

                                            "That's vaguer than an Appaloosan cheese sandwich. But I'm impressed at your rhyming capabilities." you guess.

                                            >she continues- "at when nights fall, only the demons shalt hear the call."

                                            "Twilight, the zebra is making me uncomfortable."

                                            >"…"

                                            >"okay, Zecora, we've got to leave."

                                            >She just giggles a bit, and you two shuffle passed her and on to sugarcube corner.


                                            "What was that about?"

                                            >"That was Zecora, the town witch-doctor."

                                            >You snicker a bit.

                                            "Ooga booga booga where the white colts at."

                                            "That was a- a strange encounter."

                                            >"You probably couldn't understand her. She was speaking Zebran, her native tongue."

                                            >You imagine her reaction to you shouting raps at her.

                                            >"Her race's past was sad, they've gone through a lot of cycles of enslavement and conquering."

                                            >"Building up and being brought down by another stronger force.

                                            "They wuz kangs an shiet?"

                                            >"Yeah. About that speed."

                                            >You see Sugarcube corner coming up in the distance.

                                            >Wondering the reach of pinkie's ability, you shout out to her.

                                            "Cake!"

                                            >It echo's throughout the buildings.

                                            >…

                                            >Nothing.

                                            >You continue walking.

                                            >Pinkie, whom's to your left, starts on about the new cake recipes she's been coming up with.

                                            >"Then there's the apple reunion that's coming up! I won't even have to bake for that!"

                                            "Reunion? Sounds interesting."

                                            >"Oh! It is! It is! Are you coming?"


                                            "technically, well- not right now, no."

                                            >"Well, I am!" Pinkie says.

                                            You enter sugarcube corner, and sit for a moment at the counter.

                                            >"Coming!" Pinkie shouts from the back

                                            >Pinkie comes from the back of the kitchen holding a large cake in her mouth.

                                            >She places the cake on the table, rings a bell, and a larger build pony comes from the seating area, grabbing the cake, paying, and leaving all in the span of fifteen seconds.

                                            >"So nonny, I heard you met Zecora this morning!"

                                            "Yeah- and she smelled of cotton and disappointment and spoke like a better version of Lil' Wayne.

                                            >"I'd expect you'd say that. I wouldn't let it get to you. Nopony understands her."

                                            >Twilight snorts, saying "You guys are being mean."

                                            You turn to Twilight, retorting with "I'm being right, that's what I'm bein'."

                                            >She shakes her head as you continue with Pinkie.

                                            >"So, are you coming to the reunion tonight?"

                                            "Why am I invited?"

                                            >"Applejack's inviting all of ponyville this time! They're putting some sort of spread out for us."

                                            "How white of them. I hope there's deviled eggs."

                                            >Twilight chimes in.

                                            >"How about some muffins. That's why we're here."

                                            >Pinkie looks down on Twilight.

                                            "I knew that- they're going to be done in a few minutes."

                                            >You've always been surprised at Pinkie's ability to just do without the world giving a fuck.

                                            >Must've been given a douse of C H E M I C H A L  X at birth.

                                            >You snicker to yourself.

                                            >"Sugar, spice! Everything nice!" Pinkie says while throwing a few hot browns on the table.

                                            >You smile. As you grab the muffin, pay and head out.

                                            >"Enjoy!" she chimes out behind you.


                                            >Getting back to your Home, you sit on your couch reading a novel, occasionally getting up for a glass of water in order to get the taste of pinkie's muffin out of your mouth.

                                            >It wasn't bad but fuck you it's been in staying around for hours.

                                            >The Apple Family reunion is tonight, and at the promise of 'ahpuls' you might just go.

                                            >But with the whole town there, you might enjoy the time alone, hell- you might even go looting.

                                            >You've always wanted spike's crystal bed. Or Derpy's front door.

                                            >With a huff you weigh your options.

                                            >…

                                            >You've got a wicked idea.

                                            >In that moment, your dick grows three sizes. And you up and leave for some supplies.

                                            "Has anyone seen Anon?"

                                            >The two apples to your right escorting you to the reunion shake their heads In unanimous agreement.

                                            "Well that sucks."

                                            >You bet that anon skipped the reunion to steal your couch or something.

                                            >As you pass the apple family's main gate, you notice a stack of boards and some paint.

                                            >'About time they fix up the old gate.' you think to yourself as you brush some bangs out of your eyesight.

                                            >'It's also about time you fix up your mane.'

                                            >The ponies begin telling you the attractions they've built around the area.

                                            >"Ahnd over yonder is an apple pie eatin' stand."

                                            "Oh, what's that about."

                                            >She pauses, thinking for a moment.

                                            >"Well, you go there to eat apple pie."

                                            "Ah, good to know." You reply

                                            >"And that's not to be mixed up with the apple eating stand."

                                            >The other pony speaks up.

                                            >"You go there to eat apples."

                                            >"Also not to be mixed with the cider stand over next to the pie eating stand which shares stands with the aaahple buckin' stand and the secondary apple eating stand."

                                            >They both look at you.

                                            >"There's an overarching theme, I hope you read the pamphlet we sent ya'll."

                                            >You can't remember a pamphlet ever coming to your-

                                            "Is it apples?"

                                            >"No ma'am! That was last year's theme, this years's a specific apple."

                                            "Braeburn?"

                                            >A particularly gay smelling wind ruffles around your fur.

                                            >"Not a chance!"

                                            "Is it Golden Delicious?"

                                            >"No, silly- it's Road apples!"


                                            "This is some bullshit."

                                            >"No, anon- it's horse-shit."

                                            "Same fucking difference!"

                                            >"No it is not!"

                                            "I'm done arguing. You're family's ruined the pie drinkin' stand next to the second apple bobbing stand!"

                                            >It did take them a few hours of shoveling shit on it to entirely swallow it up.

                                            >The poor, poor attendant.

                                            "I'm going to the other stand and have some more damn apples."

                                            >"Enjoy it while that one's here!"

                                            >Whoever thought it was a good idea to shovel horse shit on each other.

                                            >At least with all the apples it doesn't smell like the Iowa state fair.

                                            >More- More Baltimore after a black man gets shot.

                                            >Well, better get on what you came here to do.

                                            __

                                            "I can't believe it."

                                            >"yeah, me neither."

                                            >You levitate some sparkling cider to your mouth.

                                            "Golden Delicious, I would've never guessed."

                                            >"I dunno- I think it's impressive to have died under such extravagant circumstances."

                                            >"Stop it with yer mathematical equations."

                                            >She mimics the other pony.

                                            >"Extrabagent Circumstandces this and Eqations that!"

                                            "Stop it, you two."

                                            >"She started it."

                                            >A moment passes and the digression ends and you get back on track.

                                            "But of all things, a whoring accident."

                                            >"That's one of the leadin' causes of death in the apple family, believe it or not."

                                            >"It's right up there with feces-related-asphyxiation."

                                            "Guess he was apple to the core."

                                            >You take another drink, and place your red cup on the table, empty of applesauce.

                                            "It's getting dark, I should go."

                                            >"But, Twilight- the pictures going to be taken in a few minutes, that's when we normally all formally leave."

                                            "alright, I'll stay till then."


                                            >You crunch on a deviled apple you got from the primary deviled apple eating and applesauce smearing stand.

                                            >Then, you see a flash as you realize that the ceremony to leave is over.

                                            >They're going to be rushing out here any moment.

                                            >And you're almost done.

                                            >Just a few of these and a couple of those.

                                            >And one nail.

                                            "Done!"

                                            >You bite out of another deviled apple.

                                            >Shit these things would be perfect if they didn't smell like literal shit.

                                            >"What are you done with?"

                                            >One of the ponies says, looking up with those innocent eyes you've come accustomed seeing.

                                            "Your new fence."

                                            >You lean up on the side.

                                            >"But…" one of them trails off, there's a good 100 ponies by you now.

                                            >"There's no gate."

                                            >"Yeah… how are we supposed to leave if there's no gate?" one of the pegasi says from the back.

                                            "Well I guess you'll have to figure it out."

                                            >You walk through the crowd, watching the ponies approach the gate, paw at the fence posts with their hooves, sit down- and look out beyond the gate.

                                            >They're-

                                            >They're not leaving.

                                            >This is some which-craft.

                                            >Some fucking wiz-

                                            >"Anon, the fence won't open."

                                            "Yeah, so."

                                            >"What have you done?!"

                                            >One of the more distressed ponies from the back cries out.

                                            "Okay! Okay- fine, I'll put the gate back, but you're going to have to do something for me!"

                                            >"What is it!" one of the stallions in the middle shouts.


                                            >"Planting cotton? Is that it?"

                                            "I want a full ten acre's of cotton grown and ready for picking."

                                            >"Wahl that'll be easy! We can magic that up in an evening!"

                                            >They all unanimously shout and run off to do what they thought was another fun activity.


                                            >After about an hour, the ponies come running back, you follow them to a ten acre cotton field, booming with white stuff.

                                            >"can we go now?"

                                            "Well, now it has to be picked!"

                                            >"Alright, we can do that!"

                                            >They all run off.

                                            "At midnight, nonetheless."

                                            >You walk inside the house.

                                            >If they won't leave.

                                            >Your dick grows even more sizes.


                                            >Two weeks later, the ponies have become accustomed to their entrapment.

                                            >The town of ponyville laid stoic and empty.

                                            >However, the Anon family cotton plantation was extremely lively.

                                            "Population? Uh…"

                                            >You continue to count on your fingers as you write in your diary.

                                            >Journal.

                                            "Seven."

                                            >That's not right but it'll be believable.

                                            >You look out your window, looking at the ponies with their barf-bags of cotton, picking the field one at a time.

                                            >At first they tried bucking the cotton, but that didn't work.

                                            >Then they tried shoveling shit on it.

                                            >That didn't work either.

                                            >So now they're working at it with their mouths.

                                            >Progress is slow, but you don't care.

                                            >What the fuck did your ancestors do with cotton?

                                            >It's begun to pile up around the house in small piles.

                                            >Cotton was a bad idea, but you'll find something to do with it.

                                            >What the fuck even is this stuff?

                                            >You pick up the little balls, remembering that you do use them in medicinal applications.

                                            >Fuck it, you'll find a purpose.


                                            >Two days later, you're standing and watching the field.

                                            >A yellow pegasus walks up to you while you watch.

                                            >"Hel-"

                                            >You Glare at her as she shuts up.

                                            "That'll be two bags of cotton."

                                            >"Wha-"

                                            >You smack her.

                                            "To talk to me you must pay the holy fee."

                                            >"Bu-"

                                            "THE HOLY FEE!"

                                            >You overtake her voice like America overtook Russia.

                                            >She thinks about saying something, tearing up a bit at the treatment.

                                            >Then she saunters off.

                                            >Next up is Rainbow dash.

                                            >You know her, you can smell the bitch on her.

                                            >"Ano-"

                                            >SMACK.

                                            >A few balls of cotton falls out of her ear as you hit her.

                                            "For every cunt approached one slap shall be encroached!"

                                            >"But-"

                                            "Fuck you! More cotton!"

                                            >She walks back to the field, shuddering at the loss of balance from the slap.

                                            >You're campaign to slap the bitch out of her continues.

                                            >Soon, Fluttershy comes back, holding two barf bags of cotton.

                                            >You pick them out of her mouth, holding them at your sides.

                                            >You open them, making sure you didn't get shorted.


                                            "Sure, this looks like cotton."

                                            "But does it taste like cotton?"

                                            >"…"

                                            >You put it in your mouth for a moment, savoring the taste.

                                            >Then you pop it out and put it in the bag.

                                            "Oh yes. This is genuine."

                                            >you close up the bags and put on a warm face.

                                            "Where the hell did you get two bags of cotton?"

                                            >"I- I picked it sir."

                                            "Huh? Would've never expected to find cotton plants around here."

                                            >That's besides the point, isn't it?

                                            "What did you want?"

                                            >She begins, stuttering a bit, going cold as she does this.

                                            >You boop her snoot in an effort to shame.

                                            "Stuttering! Do the punishment!"

                                            >She huffs.

                                            >She begins spinning in a circle while you recite 'Scatmans World'

                                            >When she gets done, she looks up at you. Finally getting t-

                                            "No eye contact! Rule seven section eight!"

                                            >With a cry, she gets on her back and pretends she's jogging for exactly three seconds before coming back up and continuing.

                                            >"Master-"

                                            "Woahwoahwoah- you're not allowed to call me master on Tuesdays or if you're eyes are blue."

                                            >"But both apply, and in section four-"

                                            "You're right, it's then a double negative."

                                            >As the rules apply, you untie and retie your shoes fourteen times before getting back up.

                                            "Okay, what did you need."

                                            >She sighs, blinking three times as to not trigger the shit throwing bonus rule.

                                            >"I wanted some apples, master."

                                            "Don't you ponies eat meat or something?"

                                            >"No, master."

                                            "Well."

                                            >You have no reason to say no.

                                            "Okay, sure. But get me one too."

                                            >And with that, she runs off.


                                            >Later that day, you think of more creative ways to use all this cotton.

                                            >One room is nearly full of it.

                                            >A lucky pony of your choosing gets to sleep in there surrounded by the stuff.

                                            >You personally have no idea what to do with them.

                                            >Shuffling out of your chair, you get up and shout for your designated 'listening pony'.

                                            >Soon a pony named apple fritter gets up to the door and, making sure she doesn't make eye contact until she's in-doors, take's off her hat, placing it at a thirty degree angle with the rack.

                                            >It's Tuesday, so that means she must lead into the sitting room ass first before sitting in the main room.

                                            >She then sits down, fluttering her ears in accordance of the Twilight act of-

                                            >Of last week, whichever year that was.

                                            >"What would you like, sir?"

                                            "Just, just sit there."

                                            >"Yessir."

                                            >You begin telling tall tales and whatnot to your listener, about how you fished a whale.

                                            >Named Moby Dick.

                                            >Or how you once found a large submarine after trying to fish for a large narwhal.

                                            >Named the Nautilus.

                                            >She became quite enthralled, your 'Cliffs of Dover' scheme falling in line.

                                            >After you went over your third death, you shuffle her off to whatever ponies do when enslaved.

                                            >Then you stare at the wall before thinking up other ways to fuck with the ponies.

                                            >You're running out of ideas, especially with the cotton.

                                            >You remember there's a particularly smart pony in the bunch.

                                            >Oh, Twilight's smart.

                                            >Oh! Wait! No she isn't, if she was, she would've flown out by now.

                                            >These fucking ponies man.


                                            >But you are running out of areas to pile the cotton on.

                                            "Fuck it, worth a shot."

                                            >You step out your door, looking out over the cotton field where a few ponies picked.

                                            "Twilight!"

                                            >One of the heads moves over to where you're looking, and she takes off flying over the field and coming

                                            >"Yessir?"

                                            "What is cotton used for?"

                                            >She blinks, and looks at you sternly.

                                            >"You don't know what cotton is?"

                                            "That's about the size of it."

                                            >"You- you really don't?"

                                            "Yep."

                                            >"Oh… well."

                                            >She closes her eyes for a moment.

                                            >"I think it's for fabrics."

                                            "Really? Strange."

                                            >"It might not, but that's what I think it's for."

                                            >You're really gambling on her word.

                                            >But hey- if that doesn't work burning it works too.

                                            "Okay. I was told you were good with fabrics."

                                            >"Oh, yes- Darling."

                                            >You shoot her a look.

                                            >"What is it-"

                                            >You slam your hand on the table.

                                            "IS YOUR NAME RARITY!"

                                            >"… Well- Yes."

                                            >Your face goes from the façade of anger to surprise.

                                            "Oh."

                                            "Isn't Rarity the grey one?"

                                            >She pauses for a moment, thinking of what to say.

                                            >"I uh, I suppose- if you want her to be?" she says, uncertain.

                                            "Alright, then the grey one is Rarity."

                                            >"Then what's my name then?"

                                            >You rub your chin for a moment.

                                            >You look to her ass, seeing the diamonds.

                                            "You're going to be…"

                                            >You pause.

                                            >What the hell was that girls name.

                                            "Rhianna."

                                            >Swallowing her confusion, she continues.

                                            >"Well, Doll-"

                                            "Do you have blue eyes?"

                                            >"Yessir."

                                            "Oh, well continue."

                                            >"Cotton is what we use for fabrics, dear- we spool it then we make dresses."

                                            "Interesting. So what do we do with these 'dresses'."

                                            >"Well, I sell them."

                                            "New rule."

                                            "PINKIE!"

                                            >…

                                            >"Give her a moment. She'll be here."

                                            "Pinkie's a girl?"

                                            >"Wah… if you want her to be dear."

                                            >Pinkie, Whom is sitting to your left, speaks up.

                                            >"What rule did you want added?"

                                            "If your name is Rhianna you're not allowed to begin your sentence with 'well'."

                                            >"Yes Master!"

                                            "Except on Tuesdays and the first Thursday of-"

                                            "December."

                                            >"Alright alright."

                                            "Thank you."


                                            >You sit back down, Rhianna looking at you from the other side of the table with puzzled eyes.

                                            >She doesn't see rule changes that often.

                                            >Not like they happen to often.

                                            "Okay, so- this 'weave', how do we achieve this?"

                                            >"I guess you could spool it if you want."

                                            >Spooling?

                                            >You don't know this fancy fucking shit.

                                            >Fuckit.

                                            "I don't spool, I'm too cool for that."

                                            >"Well-"

                                            >SMACK

                                            "IS IT FUCKING TUESDAY?!"

                                            >"Y-Yessir."

                                            "AH! Stuttering! Do the punishment!"

                                            >She sighs in disappointment and begins furiously headbanging on the table while you recite the opening song in 'phantom of the opera' in pig latin.

                                            >You get done and she sits back down.

                                            >Degected and quiet, she continues.

                                            >"I could… I could loom the cotton for you."

                                            "That will be fine. Get started immediately."

                                            >"Sir, what should I make?"

                                            "Hm… make me a sweater."

                                            >"But it's seventy out."

                                            "Really?"

                                            >…

                                            "Do it anyway."


                                            "Pinkie, can you call in the nearest Musician Pony up here?"

                                            >"Yeah I can!"

                                            >She runs out and, in her best jew-mom voice she shouts.

                                            >And, in a moment, a British smelling pheasant comes through the door, much to your dismay.

                                            "What do you play- a radio?"

                                            >"Ahs If!"

                                            "Oh shitfuck she's posh!"

                                            >"Ayy Fuck you ya cunt bag hoe smellin' cotton eatin' shit grinnin…"

                                            >You stop listening and turn to your bag you had prepared.

                                            >In there was a box of tissues, a pair of scissors, a few cotton balls and a large glove.

                                            >One that's not quite too large for you to not wear, but one that doesn't fit you like a glove.

                                            >Because you hate that expression.

                                            >"Posta Poppin' Gum Gugglin' Dough Dealin' Fuck stealin'."

                                            >You stand up, and with two hands, you close her mouth- using the string to tie it shut.

                                            >Then, while she tries with her large hooves to get the string off, you sit down.

                                            >"Massa, why didn't you slap her like you do all the other cunts?"

                                            "She's British, I'd be helping her get off."

                                            >"Oh."

                                            "British love getting slapped."

                                            >You turn to her, whom at this point has shut up.

                                            "Okay. Now sit down."

                                            >She gets on one of the stools at your table.

                                            >she begins cursing through her mouth.

                                            >Oh- you know what this calls for.

                                            >BOOP.

                                            >She looks confused.

                                            >BOOP.

                                            >She looks terrified.

                                            >DOUBLE BOOP

                                            >She looked into the boop and the boop booped back.

                                            >OVER BOOP, BOOP BONUS ROUND.

                                            >BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP

                                            >This goes on for a few minutes before she's finally in tears.


                                            >You take off the string, and she begins begging for your forgiveness.

                                            >You must've broken her.

                                            >Quickly, you turn to Pinkie.

                                            "This is must be what MrNameless felt like when he broke those poor ponies."

                                            >"Who would've guessed that all he needed was Boops."

                                            "Alright, Apology accepted."

                                            >The Brit Finally sobers up.

                                            >"Yu elley Meen et!?"

                                            "Yes, Yes- now listen to me."

                                            >You grab the next item out of your box

                                            "Now play me and elaborate song with-"

                                            >You place it in front of the brit pony.

                                            "This."

                                            >"But- This's just a piece of tissue payper."

                                            >You gasp

                                            "OH MY!"

                                            >You put your hands up to your face.

                                            "Always have to have it our way? Don't we? Oh boo hoo!"

                                            >Crying now, she picks up the piece of paper and begins blowing it.

                                            >After a moment of making a horrendous sound. She stops, crying loudly.

                                            >"I can't do it!"

                                            >You stand up.

                                            "Well, I hope you don't have any plans for tonight! Because you're not leaving that spot until I hear a song!"


                                            "Land over there, guard."

                                            >Wordlessly, he begins to descend on ponyville.

                                            >The chariot hits the ground, and you look around.

                                            "Huh, I was expecting something a bit more lively than this."

                                            >A tumbleweed rolls by your hoof.

                                            "Nopony's been here for a while." You say, while kicking the weed.

                                            >You walk to the fountain, which is still pumping water away.

                                            "Where are my little ponies?" you say, under your breath.

                                            >You better check the castle. They might be throwing a curveball here.

                                            >The tumbleweed makes you lean otherwise, though.

                                            ___

                                            >"There are a couple of ponies out the fence, sir."

                                            "Really? What do they want?"

                                            >"They say trading. But I dunno."

                                            >Trading?

                                            >Hell Yeah.

                                            >You grab a few bags of cotton and head to the fence.

                                            ___

                                            >You open the gates to Twilight's castle.

                                            >A tumbleweed rolls past you again.

                                            >This time, from inside the castle.

                                            >Nopony's been here, either.

                                            >You need a sky view. Maybe you'll see something there.


                                            "What do you want?"

                                            >"Oh! We'll make it short!"

                                            >"We're here for riches!"

                                            >"Trade!"

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            "All I got is this white stuff."

                                            >Wait.

                                            >White stuff.

                                            >Your dick grows a few sizes, not so many as the other day but enough where you get the idea.

                                            "This- This white stuff has been blessed by the royal princesses!"

                                            >"All of them?"

                                            >"What does that do?"

                                            "Find out."

                                            "First one's free."

                                            >You put one in your hand and put it in the claw of the other.

                                            >The furry on the other side places it in his mouth.

                                            >In a moment, he twitches, and falls over, foaming wildly.

                                            >You see his dick go rock hard, and him start convulsing.

                                            >He lays there twitching wildly. You stand there wide eyed.

                                            >"We'll take all of it."

                                            "Woah- what, holy shit."

                                            >"What? Will that be a problem?"

                                            "No. Uh- what do you have for trade?"

                                            >"We-"

                                            >"Gold! and jems!"

                                            "Uhh."

                                            >"Yeah, sure."

                                            >He snaps his fingers.

                                            >"Fantastic! See you later!"

                                            ___

                                            "Nothing."

                                            >Tumbleweeds all throughout town.

                                            >What could've come through here?

                                            >You start getting worried.

                                            >This could be horrendous.

                                            ___

                                            >This is bad.

                                            >You could've burned the cotton.

                                            >But this gold…

                                            >You stand looking at a few chords of gold and a pile of gems that would make an Arabian shit his burka.

                                            >You get to the main cotton field.

                                            >Pointing to a few ponies standing around.

                                            "Get that gold to the shed."

                                            >You walk off, watching the boop-broken ponies get to work.

                                            "What the fuck am I supposed to do with all this gold?"

                                            >You sit in your chair, where Octavia is learning to make trumpet noises on the tissue.

                                            >Then you shake your head at her.

                                            >"Massa! I'll soon be able to accompany myself!"

                                            "Oh."

                                            >You get upstairs, opening the door to the cotton-room.

                                            >You're assaulted by a bunch of woven sweaters of the same light black color.

                                            >After you get the pile off of you, you see rarity on the bed of the room, eyes bloodshot.

                                            >She's sitting there with two crochet needles and a pile of string.

                                            >The room is dark, and smelling of apple.

                                            >She turns her head, noticing you.

                                            >"I'm Making sweaters!"

                                            "THAT'S SWEET HONEY!"

                                            >You close the door, turning and leaving.


                                            >Nothing much happens for the next few days.

                                            >Octavia's finally learned Theremin on the tissue, and the sweaters have become a good export to the diamond dog nation.

                                            >You've started trading for consumables and stuff they offer other than gold.

                                            >You still don't know what to do with that shit.

                                            >A couple of ponies had planted some more cotton.

                                            >The Slaves' morale is improving since the introduction of potatoes and wheat into their diet.

                                            >You finish your book entry with a signature, closing the book.

                                            >It's morning now, and you finish your coffee and oats.

                                            >You step out the door, noticing that the ponies have started waking up.

                                            >The 'THE FLOOR IS LAVA' signs did stop the ponies from walking into the apple orchard but you didn't expect them to start flying in there.

                                            >But it did solve the issue of housing- they get the pegasi to fly them into the trees, and they sleep there.

                                            >You watch the sight of debunking while a pony falls out of a tree.

                                            >"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH OH GOD IT HURTS!"

                                            "I'VE GOT YOU RARITY!"

                                            >You run for the grey mare wailing loudly.

                                            >You blow into the apple orchard, grabbing her up and diving back into the main field.

                                            >Then, you start CPR.

                                            >She begins breathing again.

                                            >She gets up, thanks her master, and trots off to the cotton-field.

                                            >And the facade continues.


                                            >After the ponies all waddle off to make you more stuff you won't use you take a walk in the apple orchard.

                                            >The trees around You are loaded with fruit.

                                            >Fruit that doesn't seem to spoil.

                                            >Or disappear.

                                            "Except-"

                                            >You start jogging to a few apple-less trees.

                                            "What's your excuse?" you say quietly.

                                            >CRACK!

                                            >You hear a couple birds flying away.

                                            >You go towards the sound, through the orchard.

                                            >Finally, you arrive to an orange pony kicking the trees with her hooves.

                                            >Applefucking. You think it's called.

                                            >You approach her, looking at the tired, empty face that adjourns her.

                                            "Applejack what are you-"

                                            >"Ahm Applefuckin!"

                                            "I see that, but aren't you supposed to be out in the cotton thing?"

                                            >You point the other way, then to the ground.

                                            "Also, the grass is lava."

                                            >She kicks the tree again.

                                            >"Your sign's don't trick me."

                                            "Really? Cause' it sure tricked me."

                                            >You see that the apples are placed in buckets around the tree.

                                            "But, really- did I say to kick these?"

                                            "Serious question, Honestly don't remember if I woke up this morning or not."

                                            >"Well, no."

                                            "Then why are you around here?"

                                            >"I-"

                                            >She trails off.

                                            "Come-on, spit it out."

                                            >"If."

                                            "Seriously."

                                            >"Okay- Okay-"

                                            >She takes a deep breath.

                                            >"If I don't buck atleast thirty trees aday I think my parents are alive."

                                            >You get the shivers.

                                            >"Oh and it feeds the ponies as well."

                                            "So that's where we get those apples!"

                                            "Carry on. Just don't start your sentences with 'well'."

                                            >You walk off. Whistling at the orchard.


                                            ___

                                            "Send the scouts sister, travel under the cover of night."

                                            >"Yes, sister."

                                            >Luna dives off with a few night guards in tow.

                                            "You, bring the witness."

                                            >"Yes ma'am!"

                                            >Shining Armor dives through the front door, in full gear.

                                            >"Have there been any updates?"

                                            >You look down on him with sad eyes, and that's enough to tip him that you still haven't found his sister.

                                            >Or any of her friends.

                                            ___

                                            "SPIKE!"

                                            >Spike comes running from the field, holding a letter.

                                            "Twilight said you had something for me."

                                            >"Yes, sir!" he thrusts the letter to you.

                                            >You grab the scroll, undoing the seal.

                                            >Reading it to yourself, you begin mumbling along.

                                            "duh duh duh- reply immediatley- duh duh duh-"

                                            >He looks fairly worried.

                                            "missing person-"

                                            >"Missing Person!"

                                            >You kick him lightly, like you would a dog begging to hard.

                                            "Shh… duh duh duh- Twilight sparkle…"

                                            >Duh duh duh

                                            "Well. I don't think it's nothing to worry about."

                                            "Send Celestia a scroll, tell her that they're all accounted for."

                                            >"But she isn't"

                                            "How?"

                                            >He begins to say something, but switches thought.

                                            >"You're right."

                                            "Alright! Go ahead into the house and chill."

                                            >"Yessir!"

                                            ___

                                            "Now what are you on about?"

                                            >"We'd like to come in and join you."

                                            "What?"

                                            >You look at the thirty or so ponies on the other side of the fence.

                                            >"You seem to have it good over there."

                                            "So-"

                                            "You'd like to become my slaves."

                                            >"Slaves?"

                                            >"Those slaves seem mighty bright."

                                            >You look over your shoulder.

                                            >At this point, they've started singing Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

                                            "That's their, eager chant."

                                            >One of them removes their hat.

                                            >"Sir, I'm going to level with you- we've had a hard life, and we think your plantation has the life we'd rather have."

                                            >"We work hard, sir. We'd be proud to call you master."

                                            >But it's Saturday.

                                            >Oh, wait a minute.

                                            >It's Saturday.

                                            >The ponies shouldn't be working.

                                            >Huh.

                                            "Fuck off we're full."

                                            >"But we'd work hard!"

                                            >"Harder than the rest!"

                                            "I don't want to open the fence."

                                            >"You-"

                                            >He pauses for a moment.

                                            >"you don't have to- we'll just climb it."

                                            >Taken aback by the statement, you stamper out

                                            "Welcome to the team. Today is Saturday, you do not have to work on Saturday."

                                            >And, shocked by the ponies intelligence, you walk back to the house, silent.


                                            >You sit at the table, shortly after giving Rhianna and Octavia their Oats.

                                            >Spike's sitting in the main room on the couch looking through a few novels.

                                            "Pinkie can you brink some pony else in here?"

                                            >…

                                            >Soon a pony comes to the window of the door, tapping on the oak lightly.

                                            "Pinkie said you wanted me?"

                                            >You get up, walking to the glass.

                                            >You look through the door.

                                            "OH MY GOD I'M HIDEOUS!"

                                            >You start laughing.

                                            "Just kidding, it's just you!"

                                            >The pony on the other side isn't very amused.

                                            "Alright, you can come in."

                                            >She opens the door, quickly sitting down, away from Octavia, whom is practicing her electric triangle skills on the tissue.

                                            >"What did you need Master?"

                                            "I've always wanted a forge."

                                            >"Huh?"

                                            "But I digress."

                                            >"Oh."

                                            "I'm concerned with your well being, whathername."

                                            >"I'm Rainbow Dash, mast-"

                                            >You Bitch slap her.

                                            "Sorry. You know the rule."

                                            >"Yes master."

                                            "Anyway, Ms. Rainbow, I'm extremely concerned with your well being."

                                            >"How is that, Master?"

                                            >You lean in closer.


                                            "It's your shadow."

                                            >"Huh?"

                                            "You're shadow has been possessed recently."

                                            >Her eyes widen greatly.

                                            >"It has?"

                                            "Yes ma'am it has."

                                            >"What does this mean?"

                                            >You lean in, grabbing her hoof.

                                            "I've seen your shadow trying to kill you."

                                            >She begins tearing up, darting between you and her shadow.

                                            >"That shadow?"

                                            "It's evil, Rainbow."

                                            >She begins panicking.

                                            >"What do I do!"

                                            "My poor slave. Run! Run like you've never ran before!"

                                            >"OH SWEET CELESTIA!"

                                            >She gets up, bolting out the door, running around the farm.

                                            ____

                                            "Twilight! You're smart, I need your help!"

                                            >"Yes Master! What do you need of me!"

                                            "Okay, come with me. Thank you for your help with this!"

                                            >"It's my pleasure!"

                                            >In a few minutes, you walk from the cotton field to the house.

                                            >You lay a piece of paper in front of Twilight with the problem.

                                            >Under her breath, she reads "If you chose an answer to this question at random, what is your chance you'd be correct?"

                                            >"A, 25%"

                                            >"B, 50%"

                                            >"C, 60%"

                                            >"D… 25%"

                                            >"Oh no."

                                            >She swallows.

                                            >You get up and walk off.


                                            >Your ears perk up.

                                            "Somepony over in ponyville just called for me."

                                            >"What do you mean, large white sun-queen."

                                            "It sounded like rainbow dash."

                                            >"They must be at the orchard! This makes me moister than an-"

                                            "Don't finish that sentence, witness."

                                            >"Yes my princess, sweet sun bless."

                                            >Seriously her dialect is horrifying.

                                            >What does sweet sun bless even-"

                                            >"Oyster."

                                            "SON OF A!"

                                            >You come down off your throne.

                                            "Zecora, I believe I've found the ponies we're looking for. You may go home now."

                                            >"Oh I hope you find our friends, until we meet again!"

                                            >Angrily, a few guards shuffle her off.

                                            "Shining, get the guard."

                                            >"Where do we go my princess?"

                                            "To war."

                                            >You pause.

                                            "Also to Sweet Apple Acres."

                                            ___

                                            "Is that forge done yet?"

                                            >"Nope."

                                            "Well, how long do you think it's going to be?"

                                            >The not-red apple horse to your right begins off saying.

                                            >"I'd give it a day. We need coal master- apple wood doesn't burn as hot as coal does."

                                            >"Eeyup."

                                            "Alright, I'll see what I can do.

                                            >"Thankya Master."

                                            ___

                                            "What are you doing around here! Diamond dogs aren't allowed in city limits!"

                                            >"They- They aren't?"

                                            >The other one interrupts.

                                            >"My princess there hasn't been a city here for weeks, a month even!"

                                            >You sigh.

                                            >They're right.

                                            >They've broken no laws.

                                            "Alright, fine. But stay away from the main city!"

                                            >"Thank you My princess!"

                                            >The diamond dogs, then dig a hole and bury themselves.

                                            ___

                                            "What's the guard doing way out here?"

                                            >"They're coming for the farm!"

                                            >The other one nods it's head furiously.

                                            "Well, that's an issue.

                                            >"Here- Here's the coal you needed!"

                                            >The bring up a few bags of coal, throwing them over the fence.

                                            >After they're done, you've about 200 pounds of the stuff.

                                            >Applejack, the apple pony from earlier states "Eyahp! That'll do it."

                                            >She Picks up the sacks, bringing them to the new forge.

                                            "How long do you think we have?"

                                            >"They were just scouting then!"

                                            >"I'd give you two days before the guard get here!"

                                            >"One more to make the siege machines!"

                                            "Siege machines?"

                                            >"Oh, yes! They have to make them, I mean- in order to get over this fence!"

                                            >You laugh a little.

                                            "Alright. I think that's enough."

                                            >One of them goes wide eyed.

                                            >"They might be watching us right now!"

                                            "Then leave, stay underground."

                                            >"Alright!"

                                            >And with that, they dive underground, tunneling away.

                                            ___

                                            "Twilight, it's a paradox."

                                            >She looks back at you.

                                            "It's unanswerable."

                                            >"It- It is!"

                                            "Yes. Now I need you to build defences."

                                            >…

                                            >She starts crying.

                                            >After a bit of scritch therapy she stops.

                                            "Okay, now I need you to build defences to hold off an army of guards.

                                            >"Wha- why is that?"

                                            "Because they want our cotton."

                                            >"Huh! That's horrible! We've worked so hard on what we've done!"

                                            "I know, I know."

                                            >"Celestia wouldn't do such a thing!"

                                            "Oh yes she would, why do you think she taxes us?"

                                            >"Taxed? Celestia doesn't tax the populus."

                                            >Well.

                                            "Well There goes my income tax evasion scheme."

                                            >"huh?"

                                            "Nevermind, just please help your master."

                                            >She thinks for a moment.

                                            >"al- alright, I'll help."

                                            >She gets up, walking out the door.

                                            "Wait, Twilight."

                                            >She turns, showing a dejected face at you.

                                            "You stuttered."

                                            ___

                                            "Rhian-"

                                            >You look at the slouched over pony, making sweaters without even looking anymore.

                                            >The room is dimly lit, and smells of cotton.

                                            "Rarity… You've done what you need."

                                            >She puts down the crochet needles.

                                            >"I have?"

                                            >Her bloodshot eyes dig into your soul before she realizes-

                                            >"I have!"

                                            >She dives on you, tired and torn.

                                            "You've made plenty of sweaters!"

                                            >She begins to cry.

                                            >"I can't believe I have! I have!"

                                            >She begins kissing you on your face multiple times.

                                            >She doesn't smell, rather she smells of cotton.

                                            "You may rest for 12 hours but I need you to make me something else.

                                            >"What!"

                                            >She deflates a little.

                                            >Quietly, she says "What- what do I have to make?"

                                            "I need a suit of armour."

                                            >"Huh? But I'm not a blacksmith darling."

                                            "You don't need to be a blacksmith, you need to be a goldsmith."

                                            >"Goldsmith!"

                                            "And a jeweler, yeah- all we've got is Gold and jewels to make the armour."

                                            >She brightens up, tearing up in joy.

                                            >"Why didn't you say so darling!"

                                            >"I- I won't let you down!"


                                            "Rainbow! I've banished the spirit from your shadow!"

                                            >She stops dead, looking at you brightly.

                                            >"You did!"

                                            >She approaches you quickly.

                                            >The sweaty rainbow dash hugs your legs quickly, panting and soaking your pants.

                                            "Now that you're free-"

                                            >She doesn't break her hug.

                                            "I need you to head the guard now."

                                            >Then she breaks her hug.

                                            >"Head them!? Like- Like spitfire and the Wonderbolts!"

                                            >You pet her on the head.

                                            "Yeah, sure! But take a bath first."

                                            >Beaming, she shouts-

                                            >"I won't let you down!"

                                            >With that, she runs to the house for a bath.

                                            >you look over yourself now.

                                            >You smell like horse, and are soaked like one too.

                                            "Ah shit, I need a change of clothes now."

                                            ___

                                            "Octavia, with your capabilities on the tissue honed, I need your musical efforts."

                                            >She puts down the last tissue she has.

                                            >"You do!"

                                            "Yes! Yes- We will need battle music! lest they come through the fence."

                                            >"And of all tissue players! You chose me!"

                                            >"Do you jest!? Is this some sort of joke?"

                                            "No, there isn't a tissue player that's as talented as you, I need you- Octavia.

                                            >"Thank you!"

                                            >You notice that her box is getting low again.

                                            "You may leave this spot now, grab a new box on your way out."

                                            >And, in 'Charlie's Grampa's' fashion, she gets out of the chair, shouting-

                                            >"I CAN WALK! I CAN WALK!"

                                            >You pet her on the head as well.

                                            "Congrats! Now get on you scamp!"

                                            ___

                                            "What the hell are these?"

                                            >"Pillows!"

                                            >But…

                                            "For what purpose!"

                                            >"Because we didn't have pies!"

                                            >A large stallion next to Twilight speaks up.

                                            >"Pillows were implemented extensively during the Trotting ham endeavor. Trust me these things drop ponies better than magic."

                                            >What are they going to do… suffocate them?

                                            >Actually…

                                            >That might work.

                                            "I'm-"

                                            >You sigh.

                                            "I'm going to trust you on this one."

                                            >Fucking ponies man.

                                            >You look over their shoulders.

                                            >There's a pony running from the front fence.

                                            >"Master! Celestia wants to talk to you!"

                                            >She's here.

                                            >Oh boy.

                                            "You all stay here."


                                            ___

                                            >"Sister that man has a tongue of a snake."

                                            "That's no matter."

                                            >"Not even Discord would make an appearance! He was afraid! Discord, afraid!"

                                            "That's no matter either."

                                            >You sigh, seeing the man come from the farm.

                                            "Deep breaths. Here we go."

                                            >"I do not recommend we talk this out. Sister."

                                            >"He's gone from nothing to this!"

                                            >She speeds up pace when she sees anon.

                                            >"Please, cut our ties with this human, let us take it-"

                                            "Silence!"

                                            >…

                                            >She sighs as well.

                                            >"I shall wait with the army."

                                            ___

                                            >Oh, there they are.

                                            >Funny- that's where the diamond dogs stand.

                                            >You brought a lot of gold over that fence.

                                            >Like, Lord of the Rings Dwarves levels of-

                                            "Oh shit my shirts inside out."

                                            >Stopping, you pull off your shirt, flipping it around to it's proper place, and putting it back on.

                                            "Good save, anon."

                                            ___

                                            "Please, anon- let the town go. They've done nothing to harm you."

                                            >The farm lay silent.

                                            >You don't know where he's keeping them but they have to be here.

                                            >At least Rainbow dash should be here.

                                            >What if you were wrong.

                                            >What if you've failed.

                                            >Turning back isn't a bad idea at this point.

                                            >All your insecurities pass through you all at once as you stare into his deep, soulless, old and pained eyes.

                                            >The last time you felt that was a thousand years ago.

                                            >When you gazed into the eyes of-

                                            "Sombra."

                                            >"huh?"

                                            "This conversation is over."

                                            >With that, you fly away.


                                            >"How does that fit, darling?"

                                            "Well enough."

                                            >She moves behind you.

                                            >"Coming up!"

                                            "YIKES!"

                                            >"Sorry darling."

                                            >You jump around a bit.

                                            "That actually fits really well."

                                            >After a couple minutes of this your golden suit in on.

                                            "This shit's heavy."

                                            >"Well it's gold darling."

                                            "Oh, yeah you're right."

                                            >Another pony comes up.

                                            >"You're weapon master!"

                                            >You eye the weapon.

                                            >A brash long thin short blade, made of shiny gold with gems for strength.

                                            >And a sheath to keep it safe.

                                            >This is the first weapon  you see ponies make that could actually kill.

                                            >You loop it around your belt, and put your large cotton cape on your back.

                                            >Then they bring a large eight foot spear, made of wood at the base with a gemmed head and gold engravings.

                                            >You grasp it.

                                            >They did make a shield, thank god.

                                            >You remember that one arms video that stated that plate armour was the replacement for the shield.

                                            >But damnit dark souls says block.

                                            >You hear large "POOMFS" over the hill as the pillow artillery has begun.

                                            >Followed by shrieks, and cries of 'YOU'RE NOT INVITED TO MY BIRTHDAY!'

                                            >And stuff like 'GO RIDE A FAST ROLLERCOASTER!'

                                            >You cluckle a bit as you walk on to the chaos.


                                            >The ponies make a line on both sides of the walkway.

                                            >One of the siege machines has finally been able to get over

                                            >None of the ponies have been able to get in, thanks to the cotton shelling.

                                            "Huh, guess they were right." You say, as you see more guardsmen trip and fall.

                                            >You stand spear in hand as pony after pony fell, and ran off to their mommies.

                                            >"MOMMY!"

                                            >What a bunch of normies.

                                            >"Dude, same."

                                            "Oh, hey pinkie."

                                            >"Hey nonny."

                                            >Ending her sentences with a period. Definitely not the sign of a good time.

                                            >"Shining's going to be in here. I know he doesn't buckle to such traumas."

                                            "And the princesses?"

                                            >"They're smart enough to magic them away."

                                            >"But they don't know how to climb fences or swim. That's strange in equestrian culture."

                                            "Strange."

                                            >"Yeah. That's how it goes- hey- I better get back in line, shining's almost over."

                                            >"YOU GIVE ME MY SISTER BACK!"

                                            "You're a big stallion!"

                                            >"FOR TWILY!"

                                            >"HELL YEAH I AM!"

                                            >"GET ME MY TWILY!"

                                            >You almost thought he'd say it.

                                            >Oh well. Let's get on.


                                            >You approach him calmly, spear poised.

                                            >He approaches you quickly, sword poised.

                                            >He slashes for your neck, but is quickly deflected when you lock your shoulder with your head.

                                            >Then you bring up your shield for a second deflection, bringing the large spear down on him, deflecting off his chest.

                                            >After that he dives left, sliding in the dirt for a side shot at your chainmail.

                                            >You extend your arm, swinging your shield around and knocking his sword away.

                                            >For a counter you bring your spear over simultaneously, earning a parry from his blade.

                                            >But it's not heavy enough, and you bring your spear's other end around, catching him in stomach.

                                            >At that point you kick him with your enchanted boots.

                                            >At least, you think they're enchanted- this armour is too good for being gold.

                                            >The kick lands hard, but he recuperates quickly, going for a flurry of blows that were deflected off of your armour and shield.

                                            >He stands there panting, his blade not even piercing the gold chain that's supposed to be the weak spot.

                                            >Which meant.

                                            "Wait a fucking second."

                                            >You start walking towards him, dropping your shield and taking a bunch of weak hits to weak areas of yourself.

                                            >None not even piercing.

                                            >You grab him. And.

                                            >SLAP

                                            >You rear back again.

                                            >BACK HAND

                                            >He begins growling.

                                            >SLAP DOUBLE DOUBLE

                                            >He starts spitting and swearing.

                                            >OVER SLAP

                                            >"I WILL NOT-"

                                            "SLAP BONUS ROUND!"

                                            >"BUCKLE!"

                                            >All the ponies gather around him, using their hooves to slap him in random areas.

                                            >You get up, gathering your shield as shining is left a bruised and crying mess.


                                            >You come over the siege machine, Little sister in tow.

                                            >both are in your royal armour.

                                            >You're stoic, serious, every shred of kindness thrown aside as you saw those eyes.

                                            >Sombra's eyes.

                                            >He needs to die.

                                            >But how?

                                            >This doesn't matter. It time for death.

                                            https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RKmw9oS__MM

                                            >You cannot condemn this treatment of your little ponies.

                                            >"Sister who's playing that arrangement?"

                                            >You look around, hearing the pounding orchestra roar through the hills.

                                            >All you see are a bunch of ponies in a line and one blowing their nose.

                                            >Or, you think they're blowing their nose.

                                            >Then you see him.

                                            "THERE!"

                                            ___

                                            "There? Who, me?"

                                            >You turn to the princesses, then back to Octavia.

                                            "Just like that, Octavia, that's plenty elaborate."

                                            >"Sombra!"

                                            >You turn to the gold armoured celestia with her large sword.

                                            >And Luna with her edgy Scythe.

                                            >"I am sorry Sombra! But you have to die!"


                                            "So much for laying it on slowl-"

                                            >CLANK!

                                            >It begins with your shield taking the brunt of celestia's buster sword, you sliding back a bit.

                                            >You can't take that buster sword with your shield.

                                            >Looks like we're going Dark Souls.

                                            >Her sword comes down, but you roll to your left, coming into a thrust with your spear.

                                            >But the spear is blindsided by Luna's scythe, cutting it in half.

                                            >You throw the other half at Luna, giving her a thing to worry about long enough for you to draw your longsword.

                                            >Celestia gets out of your way and Luna goes airborne for a swift downswing from her weapon.

                                            >You roll again, this time to your right, and you sense celestia behind you.

                                            >Then you eagerly roll forward, getting out of the way of a beheading chop from her buster sword.

                                            >After that you jab upwards at the oncoming Luna, causing her to fly even higher, and losing control of her Scythe.

                                            >You cut the blade off of that, not knowing what that might entail.

                                            >Another buster sword hit catches you in the breastplate, knocking you over but doing no harm.

                                            >You roll, bringing your shield up, catching a large strike, and as a reposte you bring your blade up, cutting the hair of Celestia.

                                            >It goes limp and she goes sweaty.

                                            >Luna comes back around with a morning star, which must be her secondary weapo-

                                            >You bring your blade through the chain, braking the chain and your blade simultaneously.

                                            >You're left with a small dagger, and you simply opt to throw it aside.

                                            "Now for the secret weapon!"


                                            >The Princesses back up a few steps, studying what you're going to do before opting to not let you get on.

                                            >They dive, weapons flailing as you bring out a cotton and gold 'Foam' finger.

                                            >You dive for a jab, deflecting the buster and making celestia fall back.

                                            >Luna tries using magic, but your armour stops that.

                                            >Your attack doesn't land.

                                            >Luna tackles you from behind and you turn by reflex.

                                            >and in that moment Celestia's blade strikes you like a train.

                                            >You go flying, landing against an apple tree.

                                            >Celestia and luna come walking towards you, readying them for the final blow.

                                            >You look up at them through your offset helmet, your armour taking the hit but the wind being knocked out of you.

                                            >"Any last words, Sombra?"

                                            "Yeah. I got one."

                                            >"Speak. Before you're destroyed."

                                            >You cough loudly.

                                            >You bring your finger up, quickly tapping both the Princesses' snoots.

                                            "Boop."

                                            >The buster sword drops as the princesses go rigid.

                                            >They fall over, twitching wildly, as you smile through your helmet.

                                            >You simply sit there while your slaves run up, peeling your armour off of you and bringing you in the house for repairs.

                                            >Celestia and Luna are put in gold chains 50 cent style and brought to the house where they're placed in the main room, next to spike, whom begins reading them your erotic novels.

                                            >Shining, as you were told, sprinted off at the eve of becoming a slave.

                                            >You think, as they say this 'it's almost like…'

                                            >You cough as they patch you up.

                                            >'ach, never-mind.'

                                            >And as they fret over your well being, you pass out.