Another Straya Day in 'Questria


                                            Based on the "Straya Day in 'Questria" stories written by Brownee.


                                            https://ponepaste.org/1082

                                            https://ponepaste.org/1083


                                            ***


                                            >The sky was overcast and, feeling like there was absolutely no vigor nor energy within you, you stayed in bed long after you had woken.

                                            >When you could not lie down any longer you sat up in bed.

                                            >The dim light in your room made you sigh.

                                            >You felt as though you were being stared at.

                                            >From the corner, on top of your dresser, sitting between a bowie knife which had its tip stabbed in the wood and your framed portrait of Steve Irwin, was your inflatable kangaroo Terry.

                                            >He had been turned sometime in the night so that he was staring right at you with his dotted black eyes.

                                            >You frowned at him.

                                            Well, what’s your problem then?

                                            >After a moment you felt your body’s senses beginning to tell you something.

                                            >You turned away from Terry and looked towards the Beach Princesses Calendar that was hanging on the wall.

                                            >The picture was of a sultry Celestia wearing a yellow polka dot two piece, her front hooves pressed down on a beach ball and her chest leaned out towards you.

                                            >You had taken a sharpie and drawn a senor’s mustache on her muzzle, as well as a huge pair of tits on her chest.

                                            >But below her a date had been marked, January twenty-sixth.

                                            >You nodded slowly.

                                            Oh . . . right . . . today’s Straya Day.

                                            >You briefly hummed to yourself.

                                            >Then you pushed the covers off and got out of bed.

                                            Guess I should get dressed.

                                            >You changed out of your pajama top and bottom and then pulled up your Straya speedo.

                                            >It was a dark blue speedo that had the flag on the crotch.

                                            >There was also a buttoned slit in the front so you would not have to drop trou whenever you had to piss.

                                            >Rarity had made it for you sometime last year.

                                            >You looked yourself over in the mirror.

                                            Well, I’m all dressed. How do I look in my speedos this year, Terry?

                                            >You turned and looked at Terry, who remained inert on your dresser.

                                            >You knit your brows like you were annoyed.

                                            Come of it, mate. I wore a speedo last year.

                                            >At least you thought you did.

                                            >Usually your Straya Senses would tell you these kinds of things, but they’d been all fucked up ever since Celly rogered you assways.

                                            >For now your story was that you wore speedos last year, and you were going to stick with it.

                                            >You grabbed Terry, went downstairs to the living room, and then placed him in the corner next to the chained collar.

                                            >You had a metal collar that was chained to the wall.

                                            >It was reserved for certain ponies that liked to break into your house with intent to violate either you or your butthole in a sexual manner.

                                            >You didn’t think it was all that great but it was Terry’s idea—and he wouldn’t shut up about it—so you built it.

                                            >What you really wanted was to finish your living room hammock, but you only had one pulley screwed up to your ceiling so far.

                                            >You looked up at that pulley and pursed your lips.

                                            Would’ve been nice if my hammock had been ready for today.

                                            >You sighed and then turned to Terry.

                                            Alright, so it’s Straya Day. What do you want me to do then, start drinking?

                                            >Terry sat still in his corner.

                                            >You frowned and, in a sarcastic tone, said:

                                            Pardon me for not being more enthusiastic, but getting butt raped by a big white horse can really bear down on a guy this time of year.

                                            >You started glaring at him.

                                            Course you wouldn’t know anything about that, way you just sat there and watched me take it from Celly last year. You sure you ain’t some kind of bugger poof then?

                                            >Terry continued being an inflatable kangaroo.

                                            >You sighed and shook your head.

                                            You always know how to prick me when I’m down, don’t you? Well, I ain’t having it this year. There’ll be no crazy Straya Day nonsense this time. I’m just going to sit around, drink beer, relax and maybe grill later, if Rara comes through.

                                            >You sat down on your couch.

                                            And best of all, I’m not going to let any fucking rapist ponies ruin my day, especially not—

                                            >A knock at your door cut you off just as you were about to put your feet up.

                                            Fucking hell. Already?

                                            >You opened the door to see fucking Fluttershy was there.

                                            >“Good afternoon. Looks like you’re up early today.”

                                            >Her happy eyes trailed up and down your nearly-bare body.

                                            >“It looks like today is your special day. Mind if I come in?”

                                            >She tried to walk in before you answered, so you blocked her with your leg.

                                            Fuck off, Flutters. I won’t be having your kind around this time.

                                            >“But I just want to celebrate your special day with you.”

                                            That’s tough then, isn’t it. I ain’t getting buggered like I was last year, and that means that no rapey horses are allowed near me today.

                                            >“Oh, but I can be good. You can chain me up, if you don’t believe me.”

                                            >Christ, you did that to her one time and now she brings it up whenever you start to push her away.

                                            >Fucking Terry. You should’ve just kept fighting him on that one.

                                            >“Please let me in.”

                                            Shit, Fluttershy, I haven’t even opened a beer yet and you’re already trying to ruin my holiday.

                                            >“Oh, I can get you a beer. If you’d just—”

                                            >You blocked her again.

                                            I told you no.

                                            >“But I want to come in.”

                                            Fuck, how many times do I have to tell you no? You know that shit like this is exactly why I’m not letting you in here right now in the first place, right?

                                            >“I want to share your special day with you.”

                                            And I never wanted to get six stitches in me arse, but life just doesn’t work out the way you always want it to.

                                            >Fluttershy started looking at you sternly.

                                            >“You know, it’s not just you that’s been looking forward to this day all year. I’ve been counting down the days same as you, waiting for this holiday to come. And now that it’s here, I want to celebrate it.”

                                            >Fluttershy flew up to your face and pressed her hoof to your chest.

                                            >“So you stop being a meanie right now and let me in so that we can do all kinds of fun things together that we won’t remember about the next day.”

                                            >You stared at her for a moment before your glare came down and you slapped her hoof away.

                                            >Fluttershy folded her ears, suddenly realizing that she had just made a big mistake.

                                            >She squeaked nervously as you pressed your finger into her chest.

                                            Fuck you! It’s fucking Straya Day! You’re not even Australian and you’ve been counting down the days to Straya Day—are you out your fucking mind, mate?! You don’t tell me that you celebrate Straya Day when I’ve seen you before only sipping on one beer all day like it’s a tit.

                                            >You kept glaring at Fluttershy until she floated down to the ground and then immediately crumpled into the fetal position.

                                            Straya Day is over for you.

                                            >“All I wanted was to see you in your undergarments.”

                                            >Before you could begin another harangue, you paused.

                                            What was that?

                                            >“I said that I just wanted to be around you today because I knew you’d be dressed only in your undergarments.”

                                            Fucking undergarments? They’re called speedos, cunt.

                                            >“No, they have a slit in them.”

                                            You what? They don’t become skivvies just because they got a slit in them. They’re still speedos.

                                            >“But last year your undergarments didn’t have a slit in them.”

                                            Cause they were speedos.

                                            >Fluttershy gestured to your crotch.

                                            >“So, what are these then?”

                                            They’re the same fucking thing, only with a slit.

                                            >“But the slit makes them undergarments.”

                                            Fucking—no, they’re still speedos. They’re just speedos with a slit, okay?

                                            >“But the slit makes them—”

                                            Flutters, I swear to God, if you don’t—

                                            >Just then you were cut off by several loud crashes coming from the distant woods behind your house.

                                            >The ground began to rumble.

                                            >Fluttershy started trembling.

                                            >“What was that?”

                                            Ah, I bet I know what it is.

                                            >You left the front door and went over to the mantle where, placed above the fireplace, was your bb gun.

                                            >You took it down and started filling it with little metal pellets.

                                            >The crashing was getting louder and the house was beginning to shake.

                                            >“What is going on?”

                                            >Ignoring that Fluttershy was in your house now, you said:

                                            Oh, it’s this fucking cunt that comes by every once in a while. It’s some big sparkly drop bear or something.

                                            >You finished loading your gun and then cocked it.

                                            I just shoot it in its butthole until it goes away.

                                            >You went down the hall until you were out on your back porch.

                                            >Fluttershy followed.

                                            >In the distant woods you could see that fully-grown pine trees were being knocked over as something big came in your direction.

                                            >A moment later three big trees were toppled over and an enormous nightblue bear emerged from the woods.

                                            >You got the bear in your sights.

                                            >It roared and started charging towards your house.

                                            >You started shooting at it, aiming for its eyes.

                                            >Fluttershy started screaming like a cunt.

                                            >“That’s an ursa minor!”

                                            Yeah, it’ll be gone soon.

                                            >“Stop shooting it! We need to get out of here!”

                                            Nah, I’ve done this before.

                                            >You fired some more shots.

                                            >The bear winced a few times but he was not turning around or retreating as you expected.

                                            >You tossed the gun aside.

                                            Damn! I’m gonna have to get it to turn around so I can shoot it in its butthole again.

                                            >“Why haven’t we run yet? Why are we seeking death?!”

                                            >You ignored Fluttershy’s craziness, went to the kitchen and then came back with your flare gun.

                                            >You aimed it at the charging bear, which was now only about twenty feet away, and shot the flare into its eyes.

                                            >The bear screamed and, with its paws held over its eyes, turned away from you.

                                            >Then you grabbed your bb gun and started shooting its butthole.

                                            You like that, you fucking faggot! You just keep having to get learned, don’t ya? Well, learn this again while you’re shitting Charmin blood out in the woods.

                                            >You kept shooting the bear’s butthole until it ran back into the woods.

                                            >Then you laughed and looked down fondly at your gun.

                                            Not bad for Red Ryder, eh, Flutters? Better than Daisy, that’s for sure.

                                            >Fluttershy shook herself out from the thousand yard stare she had developed before turning to you.

                                            >“Do you have any idea what you just did?”

                                            Saved my house from getting trampled, and the two of us from being gobbled, all while you just sat there with your thumb up your ass. You’re just as bad as Terry.

                                            >“That was an ursa minor. They’re very territorial, and they do not respond well to aggression.”

                                            Yeah, well, that one responds to aggression like a pussy, I’ll tell ya that. I was taking bb pellets from me mates when I was seven, but getting those little metal buggers under my skin didn’t stop me from kicking their arses all the same. That’s when we had to move up to paint balls.

                                            >“How long has this been happening?”

                                            About a week now. Why?

                                            >“If you keep this up the ursa minor will seek help soon, most likely from an ursa major.”

                                            Yeah, and what’s that?

                                            >Fluttershy explained that the ursa major was basically an even bigger version of that big cunt that sometimes tries to kill you.

                                            >You felt a bit inadequate with just a bb gun after that.

                                            >Then Fluttershy started smiling again.

                                            >“You know, if that ursa major comes, you’re going to need some pony who’s good with animals to help you.”

                                            Oh, like you just were when I was saving your ass earlier?

                                            >“I was just unprepared then. You’re going to need my help if that ursa major ever comes. What do you say?”

                                            >The trees started rustling again and you aimed towards the devastated entrance the ursa minor made.

                                            >After a few tense moments where nothing happened, you put your gun down.

                                            >Fluttershy was smiling at you expectantly.

                                            Fine. You want to share my special day? Then you’re getting your wish.

                                            >“Yay!”

                                            >On light wings, Fluttershy flew back into your house.

                                            >You sneered at the forest surrounding your house, knowing that the ursa was hiding somewhere in there.

                                            Pine trees. Never had to deal with them in Australia, and now they’re trying to fuck me over after all this time.

                                            >You went back to your living room, but Fluttershy wasn’t there.

                                            >You looked over at Terry.

                                            >After a moment you were frowning.

                                            What did you want me to do then? She kind of has me by the balls right now.

                                            >Terry somehow departed some wisdom.

                                            >You nodded along.

                                            >Fluttershy came in with a deck of cards just as you were starting to smile.

                                            >While staring at your crotch, she said:

                                            >“So, I was thinking maybe we could play strip poker, and then maybe see where things go from there.”

                                            And this is ignoring the fact that you have nothing to strip?

                                            >“I could wear some of your dirty clothes.”

                                            I have clean ones.

                                            >“Oh, I know . . .”

                                            I got a better idea.

                                            >You stepped forward, crouched down, and grabbed her sides.

                                            >She trembled at the sudden contact.

                                            >Then, a moment later, she was sitting down in the corner next to Terry with her ears folded down and a collar around her neck.

                                            >You sat on your couch and opened a beer.

                                            >“I said I’d be good.”

                                            Flutters, don’t make me get the ball gag.

                                            >She sighed, knowing that the ball gag had nothing to do with your fetish.

                                            >Finally, things had quieted down.

                                            >You were drinking some XXXX GOLD and feeling pretty good.

                                            >You were even able to ignore Fluttershy’s whining about how she wished you would at least turn your couch around so she could see you in your undergarments.

                                            >You really needed to slap that cunt for keeping on with the whole calling your speedos skivvies thing.

                                            >But things were finally starting to look up for you this Straya Day, so you decided to just sit back, keep relaxing and let her bugger on to herself.

                                            >You were feeling so good that you even began to fancy breaking the silence with your Aussie Chant.

                                            Aussie! Aussie! Aussie!

                                            >There were three knocks at the door then.

                                            >Figures that’d happen just when you were going to put your feet up.

                                            Shit. Wonder which one of your fucking friends that is.

                                            >Fluttershy shrugged.

                                            >You turned towards Terry.

                                            Watch her, mate.

                                            >Terry sat motionless.

                                            >Fluttershy’s eyes shifted towards him uneasily.

                                            >Then you answered your door to see that Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash were there.

                                            >They all smiled at your speedo.

                                            >“Guess you were right, Twi,” Applejack said. “It is today.”

                                            I suppose you cunts are here to party.

                                            >“Well, we were,” Rainbow Dash said, “but your house seems kind of dead right now, dude.”

                                            I had a mishap earlier, but I’ve got beer, and I can put on some music.

                                            >“Then we are here to party,” Rainbow Dash said.

                                            >She flew past you. Then, from behind, you heard her say:

                                            >“Guys, Fluttershy is in here.”

                                            >The girls all nodded amongst themselves and said things like “I thought she would be”.

                                            >“Hey,” Dash said, “are you going to get in here and put some tunes on? I want to shake this house off its foundation.”

                                            >Pinkie Pie started bouncing up and down.

                                            >“Yeah, that sounds fun—except for the foundation part, because if we did that then you wouldn’t have a home, and that would make me really sad.”

                                            >“Dash was just kidding,” Applejack said. “We ain’t actually going to shake the house off its foundation, at least not on purpose.”

                                            >Twilight rolled her eyes.

                                            >“Well, if we do, which is highly unlikely, it’ll pay to have wings.”

                                            >“You’re starting to make me wish I had become a princess,” Applejack said.

                                            Oh, don’t feel bad, Apples. We can make you feel like you’re flying.

                                            >Applejack smirked at you.

                                            >“And how are you planning that?”

                                            >“Yeah, tell us,” Pinkie said. “It sounds like something that’d be super fun.”

                                            >After a while you had tied a rope around Applejack’s body, being careful to wrap it around her limbs and torso while she lay on her back.

                                            >Then, as you feed the rope through the pulley, Rainbow Dash brought you a bottle of Applejack Daniels.

                                            >You all gathered around Applejack on the floor.

                                            You ready?

                                            >“Let’s do it,” she said.

                                            >She opened her mouth and you poured some of the Applejack Daniels down her throat.

                                            >When she closed her mouth, her cheeks full, you placed your palms against the sides of her head and shook her a bit.

                                            >Then you pulled on the rope and lifted her up off the floor.

                                            >When she was above the heads of everyone, you all took turns spinning her.

                                            >Soon she was going as fast as a pinwheel in the breeze.

                                            >After a moment you heard her shaky voice say:

                                            >“Okay, stop me!”

                                            >You stopped her, lowered her onto her hooves, and then watched as she tried to stand upright.

                                            >She took three uneasy steps towards the couch before she lost her balance and tipped over onto the floor.

                                            >Everyone started laughing while she asked the room to stop spinning.

                                            Alright, I’m going over to undo the ropes. Who’s next?

                                            >Rainbow and Pinkie both spoke up, and then challenged each other to a drinking contest for the position.

                                            >There was another knock at the door and you left Applejack to be untied by Twilight while you answered it.

                                            >You passed Fluttershy on the way and saw that she was looking at Terry.

                                            >“. . . Oh, I see. I’ve always wondered about that ever since that little bit he told us about your species. You see, we don’t have kangaroos in Equestria. May I ask you something else . . . ?”

                                            >It was kind of weird seeing her talk to Terry like that.

                                            >He was just an inflatable kangaroo, after all.

                                            >It was Rarity who had knocked on the door, and she had a cooler with her.

                                            >While your eyes were focused on the cooler, Rarity's eyes glanced down at your speedo before she covered her smile with her hoof.

                                            >“I knew you’d look stunning wearing just that speedo, and I’ll happily admit that I was correct.”

                                            >You opened up the cooler and saw that there was steak, pork chops, and fish inside.

                                            Rara, you big beautiful white horse, you came through.

                                            >“Don’t I always?” she said. “I have a client in the meat market who was happy to deliver.”

                                            >You were so happy that you ignored making any obvious jokes involving Rara and meat delivery.

                                            >There were times when it was just not right to make such phallic connections, and this was one of those times.

                                            >You called back to the others.

                                            Get out here, ya cunts! We’re grilling.

                                            >A crowd gathered as you wheeled the barbeque out front.

                                            >But as your eyes scanned the crowd, something seemed off.

                                            >There was Twilight, Rara, Apples, Pink, and Rainbow Cunt . . .

                                            Oi, where’s Terry?

                                            >“Well, I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Terry,” Rarity said. “But where is Fluttershy?”

                                            >“Aw, she’s inside,” Rainbow Dash said. “Hey Rarity, did you check out his underwear yet?”

                                            >You felt a twinge of anger towards Rainbow Cunt, but Rarity said:

                                            >“No, darling, he isn’t wearing underwear. They’re speedos.”

                                            >“Didn’t he wear speedos last year, though?” Applejack said.

                                            >“Yeah, and they didn’t look like that,” Rainbow said.

                                            >“I assure you that they are speedos,” Rarity said.

                                            >Pinkie suddenly appeared next to your junk and pointed her hoof dangerously close to your slit.

                                            >“But he’s got a little hole for his thingy to poke out of.”

                                            >“That’s a slit,” Rarity said.

                                            >“I don’t think speedos have slits,” Twilight said.

                                            >“But these do,” Rarity said. “These are speedos, and just because they have a slit in them does not make them something else.”

                                            >Everyone paused.

                                            >Rainbow Dash, Pinkie and Twilight all started circling around you, looking you over.

                                            >Rarity started pouting.

                                            >“Is there something else I failed to mention?” Rarity said.

                                            >“I don’t think speedos are supposed to have slits,” Applejack said.

                                            >“Yeah, they’re underwear,” Rainbow said.

                                            They’re fucking speedos, Rainbow Cunt.

                                            >“Whatever they are, they sure do look cute on you,” Pinkie said.

                                            >“I see they couldn’t stop him from getting a wedgie,” Rainbow Dash said.

                                            Fuck off! Look, we can’t grill without Terry, even if he is a cunt that watched me while I got buggered.

                                            >But before you could get Terry, the rumbling came back.

                                            >All the ponies shared concerned looks as it got louder.

                                            Shit. I’ll bet it’s that ursa cunt again.

                                            >The ponies gasped.

                                            >“Did you say ursa,” Twilight said, “as in ursa minor?”

                                            Usually he is, although Flutters said the major was going to be—

                                            >The rumbling descended on you before you could finish.

                                            >Towering over all of you and your house, there stood a bear much bigger than the minor you had fought off before.

                                            >All the ponies screamed.

                                            >Twilight pointed at the bear and said:

                                            >“It’s an ursa major!”

                                            >The major roared so loud that it knocked you all over.

                                            >Then you watched when, with a flick of its paw, it tore your entire house off of its foundation and sent it flying into the woods.

                                            >You stared in shock at where your house just was.

                                            Fuck me. It just had to be worse than last year, didn’t it?

                                            >Suddenly, all the ponies screamed, “Fluttershy!”

                                            >Somehow the part of the wall that Fluttershy had been attached to had not been sent flying along with your house.

                                            >She was still chained up and trying desperately to push the collar up over her head.

                                            >Terry had fallen over and was next to her.

                                            Oi, Terry, untie her so she can fix this.

                                            >Terry was not listening.

                                            >The ursa major bent down, took Fluttershy and Terry in its mouth, and then lifted its head back up.

                                            >You all heard Fluttershy scream for a moment before the major swallowed them both.

                                            >The ponies screamed.

                                            >“Fluttershy!”

                                            Terry!

                                            >Twilight’s horn lit up and, after a few tense moments, a bright violet flash carried Fluttershy back to you all.

                                            >Her coat and mane were pressed down with spit and she only stood up on her hooves for a second before fainting.

                                            >Twilight turned to you.

                                            >“You better carry Fluttershy. We need to get out of here before it’s too late.”

                                            And just leave Terry in that thing’s belly? I don’t think so.

                                            >“You’ll just have to leave it behind. We can’t face this thing.”

                                            >For a second you believed Twilight, until you looked up when the bear roared and saw something brown was stuck to one of its teeth.

                                            It’s Terry! He’s alive! Hang on, mate!

                                            >Before you could charge at the bear, you feel Twilight’s magic take hold of your legs.

                                            >“Are you crazy?” Twilight said. “This isn’t like the cockatrice. You’ll be killed.”

                                            Let me go, Twi. I’m saving Terry.

                                            >“But you can’t—”

                                            Look, I know he’s a right cunt and all, and he watched me get buggered, and he’d probably call me gay if I said this in front of him—but he’s the only Straya thing that I’ve got left in this world that means anything to me.

                                            >You turn to Fluttershy’s crumpled body and frown.

                                            You can thank fucking Flutters for that. I knew she was damn useless, but I never thought she’d cost me my goddamn house.

                                            >Rarity was fanning Fluttershy’s face with her hoof while the pony mumbled deliriously to herself.

                                            >“ . . . But why would you call your baby a joey . . . ?”

                                            >The moment Twilight’s eyes left yours you broke free from her magic and ran towards the ursa major amidst the protests of the other ponies.

                                            >When you had reached the foot of the bear and looked up at its enormous body, you knew that Twilight was right.

                                            >Logic dictated that facing this bear meant you would get killed.

                                            >But your Straya Senses were tingling like mad again, and the thought of Terry ending up in a dung pile somewhere in the woods maddened ya.

                                            >So you turned your eyes down to a glare and then looked up at the bear’s face.

                                            Oi, cunt!

                                            >The bear, grumbling a bit, turned its eyes down to you.

                                            You got a lot of fucking nerve trashing me house on Straya Day, eating me best friend and the pony who tries to rape me every morning, and just being a cunt in general. Why are you here anyway, just because your son was too much of a little fag to finish his own shit he starts? If he’s a disappointment, then it’s only your own fucking fault for letting him dress up all gay and shit like he’s fucking David Bowie. You set a bad example by doing the same yourself. Well, guess what? I don’t need a bb gun to whoop your little arsehole inside out.

                                            >You raised your fists up as the bear stared at you.

                                            Come at me, mate!

                                            >The bear lifted its paw from its side.

                                            >He swung it towards you.

                                            >You had the perfect plan.

                                            >When his paw was close enough, you were going to jump in between his pads and fuck him up from in there.

                                            >He can’t hit you if you’re inside his fist.

                                            >It was perfect.

                                            >Until then, you kept talking shit to distract him.

                                            Fucking faggot, mate. I’ve taken shits bigger than you. You cunt, you could've at least brought beer—

                                            >Your plan somehow fell apart as the bear struck you, sending you ragdolling up into the air until you came crashing down on the top of a pine tree.

                                            >You couldn’t remember anything after that.


                                            >The next thing you remembered, you could only see blackness, but you could feel a thin fabric touching your skin.

                                            >It was kind of itchy and it let the cold in to easily.

                                            >You knew they were hospital sheets before you ever even woke up from unconsciousness.

                                            >Before you woke up, you could hear familiar voices.

                                            >“Look closer, Pinkie,” Rainbow Cunt said.

                                            >“I am looking,” Pinkie said. “His fun bits are all wrapped up in the cast, too.”

                                            >“Is he still wearing his speedo?” Rarity asked.

                                            >“Doctor had to cut them off,” Applejack said.

                                            >“Here’s the procedure,” Twilight said. “He wrote it down for us.”

                                            >“This says they’re boxers!” Rarity shrieked. “How in Equestria could he mistake my marvelous speedos for boxers?”

                                            >“You know, come to think of it,” Twilight said, “I don’t think he was wearing underwear last year.”

                                            >“Come on, Twilight,” Pinkie said. “I think we would’ve remembered it if he wasn’t wearing underwear last year.”

                                            >“Oh, um, Pinkie, I think he’s waking up,” Fluttershy said. “Do you think I could take a look before . . . never mind.”

                                            >You started mumbling to yourself.

                                            You’re all fuckin’ cunts . . . Bloody ‘Questria . . .

                                            >Then you opened your eyes to see that the entire gang was with you in your hospital room.

                                            >They all said hello.

                                            >Everything below your neck felt like it was stiff and burning, but at least you knew that that meant you were not paralyzed.

                                            >Through parched lips, you asked them what happened.

                                            >“I was able to chase the ursa major away,” Twilight said. “Then we took you to the hospital.”

                                            >“Man, did you take a whallop!” Rainbow Cunt said.

                                            >“You sure did,” Pinkie said. “I mean, your hip bone wasn’t connected to your leg bone, and your shin bone wasn’t connected to your leg bone, and your . . .

                                            >Pinkie’s voice trailed off as she noticed that her friends had begun staring judgmentally at her.

                                            >She smiled sheepishly and said, “Well, you get the idea.”

                                            Why does my butt hurt?

                                            >The ponies all shared uneasy looks.

                                            >Applejack stepped forward.

                                            >“Well, something happened when you fell on the tree. You see, you fell in a certain way, and—”

                                            >“A tree branch went up your butt, dude,” Rainbow Dash said.

                                            >Everyone winced.

                                            >“Yeah, I was getting to that,” Applejack said. “But that’s basically what happened.”

                                            >You sighed in tired pain.

                                            Fucking pine trees.

                                            >Fluttershy gently touched your hand with her hoof.

                                            >“If it makes you feel any better, we have someone that we’d like you to see.”

                                            >Pinkie placed Terry on the foot of your bed.

                                            >You smiled.

                                            >“We found him while we were in the woods cleaning your house,” Pinkie said.

                                            Cleaning my house?

                                            >“Well, cleaning up your house,” Rarity said. “It’s in splinters all over the woods.”

                                            Oh . . .

                                            >Fluttershy started rubbing your hand.

                                            >“But don’t worry, because as soon as you get out of here, you and Terry can come live with me.”

                                            >Well, that would do until the insurance paperwork was finished.

                                            >Good thing all Aussies are taught from birth that they need insurance if they’re going to make it in this world.

                                            >“We’ve also been gathering up whatever we could find of yours that wasn’t destroyed,” Applejack said.

                                            >“We found a whole bunch of your Australia swag,” Rainbow Dash said.

                                            >She pointed the nightstand next to you where, placed alongside various stood-up greeting cards, was both your bowie knife and your framed portrait of Steve Irwin.

                                            >You reached over for the bowie knife, picked it up, and stabbed the tip into the wood surface so it stood up.

                                            Now it’s perfect.

                                            >You noticed one of the cards had Celly’s smug face on it, the glittery text below it reading:

                                            >“There’s something we need to get to the bottom of . . .”

                                            >Twilight noticed you staring at it.

                                            >“That card is from the princess. You want me to read what it says?”

                                            No, that’s okay.

                                            >You looked away from the nightstand, your heart set on tearing up that card with your knife once these ponies left you.

                                            >It was just then that you noticed something about Terry that made you do a double take.

                                            Hey, Terry’s eye is gone.

                                            >Pinkie nodded.

                                            >“He was popped when I found him. He had a big hole where his eye was, so I put a patch on him after we blew him back up.”

                                            >You smiled at the black square where Terry’s right eye used to be.

                                            Well, he looks kind of bad ass like this. Thanks, Pinkie.

                                            >“You’re welcome. I just wish we could have had a bit more fun before that party pooper showed up.”

                                            >“And clogged your pooper with a tree branch, mate.”

                                            Shut up, Terry.

                                            >The other ponies gave you funny looks for a second before pretending like everything was normal again.

                                            Twi, can you get me a glass of water?

                                            >She nodded and walked off.

                                            >You took a closer look at your hospital room.

                                            You know, this isn’t the room they usually put me in.

                                            >The others looked around the room curiously but didn’t respond to what you said.

                                            >You felt the need to break the awkward silence.

                                            Well, I’ll be fine. I always am. You can’t celebrate Straya Day without having something go wrong like this, even if you don’t want it to.

                                            >Twilight came back with your glass of water.

                                            >You pulled your hand away from Fluttershy’s hoof and reached for the glass.

                                            But still, maybe next year Straya Day will go by without an accident.

                                            >“I wouldn’t count on it,” Rainbow Dash said.

                                            >“Let’s just take this one day at a time,” Twilight said.

                                            >You took the glass from Twilight, and it immediately shattered in your hand and cut your palm open.

                                            >Blood started pouring out from your cut, running down the length of your arm and covering up your hand entirely.

                                            >You winced and held your hand tight with your other hand.

                                            >The other ponies gasped.

                                            >Fluttershy fainted again.

                                            >Terry sat perfectly still, only saying:

                                            >“Goddammit, Brownee.”