Manofass(2016): Beach Bum Anon Chapter 3: Beware the Albanian


                                            >"Wake up, wake up, the sun is up!"

                                            >The girly voice from last night rouses you awake

                                            >It's tinted with a slight accent that reminds you of that Albanian in Jacksonville that used to sell you crack

                                            >You look up to see that the teal filly still has the bag over her head

                                            >A neon pink, short tail sprouted from hear ass, and you see little tufts of the same pink hair peeking out from under the bag

                                            >"C'mon, they're gonna be looking for you around here. We need to get farther away, they don't care enough to send search parties out too far."

                                            >You rise to your hooves and she slaps a large bundle of what looks like pine needles your face

                                            >"Chew on this, it'll help you wake up."

                                            >You oblige her, and find the needles absurdly tough but pleasantly sweet

                                            >She grabs your foreleg and starts pulling you forward, wordlessly encouraging you to hurry the fuck up

                                            >The pine has been ground into a thick, heavy mush that you swallow almost automatically

                                            >Minutes pass and the only sound is that of your hooves and hers crunching dead leaves on the forest floor

                                            >There's a faint rustling all around as a calm breeze lazes through the treetops above and then is gone without a trace

                                            >You aimlessly scan the area as she leads you away, and see around you an expanse of willows and oaks, small clusters of grass and shrubs covered in the bristles that looked like what you had in your mouth only moments before fighting competitively for the limited groudn space where sunlight made it through the canopy unfiltered

                                            >Various types of lichens and oversized mushrooms sprout up between the dead leaves that litter the ground under the shade of the trees

                                            >The forest looked almost fantastical

                                            >You turn your head to look at your guide

                                            >This filly that has just rescued you from the grasp of the medical field and the assorted wizards contained therein

                                            >Who wore a silly brown paper bag over her head

                                            >Who sounded faintly like a dirty moneygrubbing gypsy

                                            >Or maybe an elf

                                            >In horse form

                                            >Maybe the bag was like a ski mask for budget thieves

                                            >And maybe elves thieved little boys in order to turn their skin into folksy arts and crafts

                                            >And then they sold those folksy arts and crafts to upper-middle class mine-drinking art students

                                            >And they cursed those arts and crafts to render their art degrees useless!

                                            >Which means you've just been taken out of the concentration camp and into the burn pit

                                            >The thought makes you shudder

                                            "Y-you aren't an elf or anything... are you?"

                                            >You had a friend who was stalked by elves

                                            >He got run off the road one night by what you can only assume was a malevolent fae and crashed through the windshield when he hit a tree

                                            >If only he believed in seatbelts with the same zeal he believed in house gnomes

                                            >The filly looks at you with a raised eyebrow

                                            >"Come again?"

                                            >You gulp

                                            "You're not some kind of faefolk what turns innocent people into lampshades, right?"

                                            >She blinks and then laughs

                                            >"I guess whatever they put in the water there still hasn't worn out of your system then."

                                            >You aren't sure whether to feel relieved or more frightened

                                            >But before you have to make that decision, your body decides it has its own priorities and you puke with the force of a fire hose

                                            >And not in a short spurt, you shoot out a steady stream of stomach acid and oats, splattering against the ground with such ferocity that dozens of massive droplets coat your legs and chest

                                            >Some even gets on the mystery filly, whose laughs turn into what can only be describe as incomprehensible goat screams

                                            >Deep in your gut you feel your stomach squeezing down to the size of a baseball

                                            >Seconds pass and the torrent has ended, and you collapse onto the ground and moan in pain

                                            >"IDIOT! DID YOU SWALLOW THE BRISTLES? CHEW, I SAID! CHEW, NOT SWALLOW!"

                                            >All this vomiting has got to be damaging your larynx

                                            >Your disgusted companion frantically wipes puke off of her hooves and grumbles inaudibly while you sit exhausted in your filth

                                            >At least the grogginess is gone


                                            >Thankfully, a stream was nearby for you both to wash yourselves off in

                                            >To your surprise, she kept the bag on her head and only let the water get as high as her neck

                                            >What a wierd girl

                                            >But everyone knows that elves can't stand water

                                            >They're like housecats

                                            >Which means she's safe

                                            >And if by some feat of horrible science she wasn't, then now would be the best time to discern her true, supernatural identity

                                            >Since the water is where demons are weakest

                                            "Who are you?"

                                            >Your voice cuts through the ambient noise of the forest, carrying a slight edge

                                            >Some might even say it carries an accusational tone

                                            >"Hm? Oh, right. The name's Monster Mash. I already know who you are, Speedy."

                                            >O SHIT

                                            >SHE ALREADY KNOWS YOUR NAME AND SHE SOUNDS LIKE HALLOWEEN

                                            >THAT'S TWO RED FLAGS AT ONCE

                                            >Something tickles your leg and you duck underwater, swimming with the current like the dolphin that you wish you were

                                            >You slide through the river grass with all the grace of a dugong and pull up any underwater vegetation unlucky enough to be in your path

                                            >At this point you are coated in enough miscellaneous green shit to make a decent Creature from the Black Lagoon costume

                                            >You get a wonderful idea to throw the witch off your tracks

                                            >If she is following you, that is

                                            >You halt your advance and pop up out of the water, arms outstretched and snarling aggressively

                                            >As it turns out, she WAS following you, flying a few feet off the water

                                            >When you appear, she jumps a little, then giggles

                                            >"So that's what you were doing, eh?"

                                            >She's totally unphased

                                            >Before she gets a chance to pluck you out of the river, you bob back underwater and start swimming even faster than before

                                            >It's not long before your muscles are screaming in agony, unused to slogging through water like this

                                            >But something is pulling you from behind

                                            >You surface once more to see the filly has grabbed you by your tail and stopped you dead in your tracks

                                            >That's some impressive strength right there

                                            >Or you're just exceptionally weak

                                            >"Enough of this, we're still on the run, you know."

                                            >You twist around and bring up your leg to kick her in the ribs, taking her by surprise and knocking her into the water

                                            >The bag is knocked off her head and as she flails to keep afloat you get a glimpse of her head and promptly shit in pure terror right then and there

                                            >Most of her face is normal enough, but on her left cheek pokes out a second, hideously deformed muzzle and just a little above that rest tiny buldging eyelids

                                            >Four tiny, twisted, grotesque legs dangle from under her lower jaw, and the entire lower left half of her face is coated in sickly-looking veiny lumps

                                            >You scream out in pure terror and dart over the shoreline and out of the river, worried that being in the same water as the abomination might spread her corrupted essence onto you

                                            >Once on dry land you run as fast as you can away from the river

                                            >The soft breezes that wafted through the forest have now turned into gusts of wind at your breakneck pace, and you are uncertain if you have ever run so long or so fast in your life

                                            >Eventually you collapse under a massive, ancient looking oak and almost pass out as you almost hyperventilate

                                            >Collapsing is something you seem to be doing a lot of lately

                                            >In fact, there's a lot of things you've been doing more often since this whole ordeal started

                                            >Like screaming, and hurting yourself, and running from horrible magic

                                            >Not vomiting though, that's stayed consistent with your old life

                                            >So at least there's comfort in that

                                            >You could fucking kill for some horse tranquilizer right about now

                                            >Maybe some skag

                                            >You're surprised you haven't had the shakes yet, it's been days since you last chased

                                            >Scratch that, not very surprising since Discoman already saved you from your laundary list of other health blunders

                                            >Something is crunching the leaves nearby

                                            >Unsteady, rhythemless crackles and crinkles slowly make their way to the tree, coming from behind as far as you can tell

                                            >You slink into the network of massive roots that poke out of the ground at the tree's trunk and wait for whatever is to pass

                                            >It stops somewhere close to the side opposite of you, and then you hear the sound of liquids being poured out onto the ground

                                            >Your curiosity overtakes your fear, coming to the conclusion that since the witch can fly, she wouldn't be looking for you on foot

                                            >Or on hoof, since horses don't typically have feet

                                            >Although with witches, anything goes really

                                            >You peak around the trunk and get the rear-view of a deer taking a leak on the tree

                                            >It's a whitetail, and his antlers look like they've been sloppily chipped off

                                            >One of the stumps is quite a bit bigger than the other, but neither have any extra nodes sprouting off of them and both look pretty jagged at the tip

                                            >The deer lazily pokes his face into a big brown satchel he has hanging over his side and eats something inside it, then stumbles against the tree, falls into his piss puddle, and laughs at himself

                                            >You catch the foul but somewhat comforting stench of rotting fruit eminating off of him

                                            >Overall, you get the feeling that this guy is of upstanding character

                                            "You'd better watch out, there's a witch running amok in these parts."

                                            >The deer chortles and turns around to look at you

                                            >"What?"

                                            >His goofy grin is so large it might split his head in two

                                            "I said there's a witch around here, looking for good folk to eat."

                                            >He chuckles

                                            >"Whatever you say little dude. Hey, you seen any pikewheat bushes around here?"

                                            "Pikewheat?"

                                            >"You know, bristles and stuff, little green berries on the branches. Look kinda like blueberry bushes, but, you know, pikewheat."

                                            >He moves his hooves as if describing the size of a fish he caught

                                            >You see dozens of plants matching his description scattered about the forest floor and point to one

                                            >His head follows your directions and he scratches his chin

                                            >"No no, not wheatpike. Pikewheat."

                                            >He holds his hooves up about a foot apart, then frowns at them and moves them a few inches together

                                            >At a loss for what to do, you point at another, identical bush and he chuckles

                                            >"Niiiiice. Thanks, little man."

                                            >He starts walking towards it, jumps in his tracks and stands completely straight, then digs into his satchel with one hoof and pulls out a single green berry, then turns to you

                                            >"You want one?"

                                            >Normally, having already been attacked by a witch once in any given forest makes you suspicious of accepting gifts from mysterious strangers asking questions about botany within the afformentioned forest, but you were getting a good vibe from this guy

                                            >So instead of running and screaming like you've done so many times in recent memory, you nod and reach out to take his offer

                                            >You pop it into your mouth and bite down, finding it juicy and bitter


                                            >"So, like, basically, if you don't have cloven hooves, you can't be trusted. Unless you can. It's all... something from antiquity. You know, Starbeard the great and stuff."

                                            >You nod

                                            "Not only do I, but yes."

                                            >He smiles

                                            >"I knew you knew better. But anyways-"

                                            >The both of you sat in the center of a grove of pikewheat and tall grass, munching the pikeberries that your new friend Selkie seemed to adore

                                            >And you understood why

                                            >It was as though someone stuffed a tab of acid in a potted peyote plant and then threw the pot in the woods to let nature take its course

                                            >Overall, the experience it left you with was spiritual and euphoric

                                            >The sunshine seemed to get brighter, the grass tickled your back and belly, and the screaming cicadas didn't break your eardrums like an egg

                                            >"Hey Selkie. I see you've met Speedy."

                                            >You'd recognized that voice anywhere

                                            >It's the Albanian's daughter, come to suck your dick for weed money

                                            >You turn around to greet her and see Monster Mash wearing a slightly soggy and torn paper bag and looking at you with a venomous glare

                                            >You feel like you should be terrified, but remain placid and happy

                                            "You look like a carpet."

                                            >Her coat seemed unusually fluffy since last you saw her

                                            >"Sorry I gotta ruin your playdate, Selkie, but I really need to get this boy outta here before the search parties find him."

                                            >He shrugs

                                            >"Whatever, man."

                                            >Monster grabs you by the foreleg and you barely have enough time to scoop up a hooffull of the berries the two of you had piled onto a bed of dead leaves before her freakish strength pulls you away

                                            >She swats them away, though, and you pout at her

                                            >"Don't eat those, they'll rot your brain."


                                            >The walk wasn't so bad

                                            >For most of it you were barely treading the line between conscious and fucking dead, but in a good way

                                            >All you had to do was enjoy the sights while Monster Mash led you by the hoof

                                            >Everything seemed so much more alive

                                            >The trees swayed a bit more

                                            >The leaves twirled like dancers when they fell

                                            >The clouds you saw through holes in the canopy swelled and shrunk as if breathing

                                            >You somewhere along the way you were distracted by Monster's tail

                                            >In that moment it looked like cotton candy, and you began to wonder how it tasted

                                            >You can vaguely remember the last time you had cotton candy

                                            >Tallahassee fairgrounds

                                            >The North Florida Fair was in town

                                            >Fairs are always a prime place to scavenge food

                                            >You had just finished up a half-eaten turkey leg you found in a garbage bin when you noticed that some poor sod left his stand unattended

                                            >As casually and inconspicuously as a man wearing trash bags for clothes can, you moseyed on over to the cart and examined the displayed cargo

                                            >There was a big-ass pretzel (not to be confused with an ass pretzel, a personal invention of yours that revolutionized the world of jenkem) and an imperial shit ton of bagged cotton candy

                                            >But most of it was the shitty yellow banana flavored fuckery

                                            >Of course, banana flavored candy being the absolute worst and completely inedible for humans, you were about to give up hope on finding anything worth stealing

                                            >Aside from the jar of cash the fool had left laying in some unlocked compartment, which would no doubt turn into 15 funnel cakes by the end of the night

                                            >Suddenly your eyes light up as you spot a hidden treasure

                                            >A big sticky wad of pink shit that was inside of a plastic Wal-Mart bag also filled with napkins and various wrappings

                                            >You grabbed a fistfull and promptly shoved it into your mouth before a burly colored man in a black polo with the word 'security' written across the chest came to punch you in the gut and literally fucking toss you over the chain-link fence that surrounded the fairground

                                            >He also confiscated your green paper funnel cakes

                                            >You look down at your muzzle and realize that you're chewing on the ends of Monster's tail, which tastes more like rope than a sugary treat

                                            >"Stop that."

                                            >Her voice has an authoritative edge, like a mother chastizing her child, and you release her hair to go back to staring at the sky


                                            >In this clearing sits a small covered wagon

                                            >Pulling this wagon is a lanky Glass Joe type character

                                            >He was just a regular ol purple pony, no horns or wings to speak of

                                            >Nothing odd about this fella

                                            >Aside from being freakishly tall and so thin you might think he was a skeleton

                                            >If he wasn't purple, that is

                                            >Monster says something quiet to the cart-puller and helps you into the back of the wagon

                                            >The floor is covered in straw and at the far end of the cart is a large wooden chest

                                            >You walk over and reach out to open it, but Monster grabs you and shakes her head

                                            >"Didn't your mother ever tell you to not poke around in other ponies' things?"

                                            >You tap your chin

                                            >You couldn't draw up any recollection of any such event

                                            "No, I don't think so."

                                            >She rolls her eyes

                                            >"Whatever. Get comfortable, this is gonna be a long ride."


                                            >This was a bad idea

                                            >You had taken a nap and woke up to discover the pikeberries or whatever the hell they were called had worn off

                                            >Now you were able to fully appreciate how fucking terrifying your situation is

                                            >Monster is sitting at the ass end of the wagon, blocking any sort of escape

                                            >This is how cultists get victims

                                            >And forced converts

                                            >No doubt Selkie was planted where he was to drug you so the dark harvest would be easier to complete

                                            >Whatever dark harvest they were planning

                                            >It could be a blood sacrifice to gain the favor of some malevolent skeleton demon, they might fuck your virgin butthole to become sex gods, perhaps even eat your brain to gain your knowledge

                                            >Anything is possible with dark gods

                                            >You were pretending to be asleep while you formulated a plan

                                            >Monster Mash must think her vile concotion has yet to wear off, for she is passing the time braiding her tail

                                            >You don't know what glass Joe is doing out there, but you assume it has something to do with the cart and pulling

                                            >Suddenly, the wagon grinds do a halt and you are aware of music and lots of talking

                                            >Monster pokes her head out of the back of the wagon, and you take this distraction as a sign to make the third great escape of this adventure

                                            >You spring into action, quickly closing the length of the cart and leaping out of the back

                                            >That's another thing you've been doing a lot of, leaping

                                            >You could probably crush a watermelon with these thighs when you get home

                                            >Upon landing, you freeze as the sight of dozens of heads turning to face you

                                            >But not in a blood circle or anything

                                            >This is more of a large hippie camp

                                            >Tents, a bonfire, some faggot playing an acoustic guitar, various cooking pots comically similar to witch cauldrons

                                            >But everyone has stopped doing whatever it was they were doing to stare at you

                                            >And you realize too late that you are screaming

                                            >You don't know when you started, but you are

                                            >A lump forms in your throat and the scream is cut off

                                            >You are frozen in fear, your heart fluttering like a frazzled bumblebee

                                            >Now that you are quiet, most of the surprised faces grow into warm smiles

                                            >Some look down and start rocking in place

                                            >Others are pacing nervously around the camp

                                            >But most are still looking at you

                                            >You finally find the strength to start backing away, shrinking down like a frightened animal

                                            >"Speedy-"

                                            >Monster Mash climbs out of the wagon and accidentally steps on your tail

                                            >In an instant your strength returns and your legs turn into a whirlwind as you try to beat a hasty retreat

                                            >But Monster's freakish strength keeps your tail pinned and you only succeed in hurting your ass, falling over and scraping your ankles

                                            >Glass Joe appears out of nowhere and scoops you up as a wave of calm suddenly washes over you

                                            >Not enough to settle your fear, but enough to turn your pure terror into bug-eyed anxiousness

                                            >The ponies go back to business and you close your eyes so none of them can turn you into stone with a wicked gorgon gaze

                                            >Moments pass and you are aware of being set down

                                            >When you open your eyes you can see that you are in some sort of grand teepee, complete with a smoky fire in the center

                                            >At the other side sits a blue unicorn wearing a silly looking wizard hat and star-printed cape on a colorful mat

                                            >"The kind and merciful Trixie welcomes you to our family. She is told your name is Speedy, is it not?"