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1928 11.32 KB 215
The Sandbox [Kinderquestria]
By ppanonCreated: 2021-10-11 00:34:09
Updated: 2021-10-11 00:35:42
Expiry: Never
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The Sandbox.
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By ppanon
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>You sat on the crappy park bench while reading today’s Equestrian Times.
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>Grayscale graphics explained government subsidized ice cream.
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>The only printed text on the page noted that it was being funded with human tax dollars.
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>Of course.
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>“I dare ya to pee in it!”
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>Your ears perk up.
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>”You don’t think I will?”
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>You turn your attention to the little rainbow shit and her orange cohort staring each other down in the sandbox.
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>”I’m gonna do it!”
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>You got up and approached them.
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“Do it and you’re dead.”
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>The two fillies turned their heads toward you, wide eyed.
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“Pow.”
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>Your finger gun discharged while aimed directly at Rainbow Dash’s forehead.
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>“That’s cheatin’,” Applejack was quick to defend her friend.
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“I make the rules. No more sandbox. Why don’t you two go play with Fluttershy?”
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>“Fine.”
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>You watch them bolt off, trotting quickly toward their pink-maned friend who was sitting alone by a tree, just outside of the mulch that enclosed the playground equipment.
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>Fluttershy’s ears perked up as she heard the approaching storm of foals.
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>Your attention turned back toward the sandbox.
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>Sturdy ceder planks served as the enclosure to only the finest Saddle-Arabian sands.
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>Thankfully it remained unsoiled, littered only by sad looking sand lumps, a couple of little plastic shovels, and a play bucket.
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>You remembered the good times, when only 30% of your pay was garnished to fund park equipment.
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>The sandbox had been the first addition to the park that was funded through your hard earned bits and you’ll be damned if anyone pisses in it.
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>Back to reading the newspaper.
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>You started to hear soft sobbing directly in front of you.
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>After lowering the paper, you saw Fluttershy bawling.
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>Those fucking shits.
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“What did they do to you?”
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>“I can’t find Tammy and Phillip!” She cried.
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>You didn’t even bother asking who they were. Obviously some squirrels.
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>”T-they were flying on top of each other!”
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“What?”
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>Birds was your second guess.
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>“Then they flew away and now I can’t find them!”
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“It’s okay, Fluttershy. Your little bird friends will come back.”
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>“Tammy and Phillip are dragonflies.”
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>Of course they were.
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>You pulled the little pony onto your lap.
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>A thumb and an index finger against each ear was the secret to ending filly tears.
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>Fluttershy cooed sweetly under your touch.
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>You closed your eyes.
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>Nothing could break her away from your gentle massage.
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>The sound of a music box jingle started up in the distance.
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>Your fluffy pony had suddenly become weightless.
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>You opened your eyes.
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>Fluttershy was now on the edge of the bench, looking towards a blue colt with a faggy paper hat.
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>He was hauling a cart behind him.
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>An ice cream cart.
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>Rainbow Dash and Applejack were already next to him.
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>In a blink, they had their teeth clenched against the side of waffle-cone bowls.
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>The two scoops of ice cream were straddled up against their faces while they rushed back to their secret hideout: under the steps that lead up to the slide.
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>Fluttershy turns to you with pretty doe eyes.
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>You’re by the ice cream cart, cringing as the colt loudly slurped down a blue popsicle.
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>The fur around his mouth was matted with ice cream residue and sprinkles stuck to the hairs.
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>Fluttershy was hiding behind your leg, one eye peeking out at colorful drawings of ice cream decorating the cart.
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“Did you decide which one you want?”
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>She shook her head.
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>You looked over the variations of diabetes that the colt had crammed into the cart.
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>The huge array of ice cream flavors, toppings, and bins of popsicles defied its tiny outside appearance. Hell there was even room for his abacus.
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>Sugary junk food was all ponies ever ate.
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>You had every instinct to stop them whenever they funneled that shit into their bodies.
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>There was the time you had talked with a nutritionist.
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>She insisted sugar was the healthiest ingredient in existence.
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>You didn’t buy it because her office was located inside a candy shop (but you did buy the salt-water taffy).
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“Ready now?”
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>Fluttershy shook her head.
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>It had been at least 5 minutes.
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>“Do you like Princess Pops?” The blue colt interjected while he unwrapped a red popsicle.
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>He pointed to a drawing on the side of his cart.
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>It was shaped like a cutesy version of Princess Celestia’s face, dotted with beady black eyes.
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>Fluttershy’s eyes lit up.
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“Is that the one you want?”
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>She nodded.
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>You stand back up.
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“Okay, we’ll get the Princess Pop then.”
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>“Two bits, please,” The colt said, interrupting his foreplay with the red rocket.
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“I thought this shi–stuff was free?”
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>“Two bits off of all ice cream.”
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“So it’s free.”
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>“No. Two bits.”
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>You take another look at the drawing of the popsicle. It’s marked as costing two bits.
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“It’s free!”
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>“i’s nmrh free!” He chomed down on his popsicle, eyes twitching as he chews it down.
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>He climbed onto his cart, took the abacus in his mouth, then placed it on top of the cart.
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>“One,” he slid the first bead on the bottom row to the right side.
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>”Two. Three. Four.”
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>“Minus one,” He slid one of the beads back to the left.
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>“Two. There’s two left, so it costs two bits for the Princess pop.”
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“The sign says two bits, bud.”
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>“Yes. Two bits for the pop.”
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>Fluttershy tugged on your leg and motioned to talk to you.
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>Reluctantly you sat down in the grass.
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>She whispered into your ear. “We don’t need to get it.”
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“Don’t worry.”
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>”It’s okay.” Her lip touched your ear.
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>You stood back up.
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>”I spent all morning redoing the prices,” The colt added as you eyed him again.
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>You looked at the sign.
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>Everything except for the Princess pop had a zero next to it.
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>Inside your pocket was two bits. All you had left until the end of the week.
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>Your salary was three-hundred bits per week–minus 98% in taxes which left six bits for yourself.
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>You pulled your last remaining bits from your pocket and started to hand them over.
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>Wait.
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>The new ice cream tax.
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>99% taxes.
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>Shit.
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>You pulled your hand back, thinking of a new plan.
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“Between the two of us–”
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>You pointed down to Fluttershy.
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>She cowered away.
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“–we want just one princess pop which originally cost four bits, right?”
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>”Yes.”
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>You grabbed the abacus and pushed four of the lower row’s beads to the right.
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“So. Subtract one. Two, for me. One. Two, for her.”
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>The colt coughed up sticky red spittle onto your face as he saw no beads remained on the right side.
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>You brought Fluttershy back to the bench and unwrapped the popsicle for her.
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>To no one’s surprise, Popsicle Celestia was born retarded.
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>Fluttershy smiled with her foalish stare.
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>“May I have some?”
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“Good news, Fluttershy. It’s all for you!”
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>You remembered too late that foals were terrible at holding things.
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>The popsicle bounced off the edge of the bench.
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>You caught it just before it hit the ground.
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>Your hand got covered in melted Poplestia.
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>Fluttershy kissed the popsicle as you held it up for her.
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>She’s a gentle eater.
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>You closed your eyes.
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>Half the popsicle had already melted down your wrist.
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>You sighed.
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>Fluttershy’s little tongue tickled your hand.
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“Is it yummy?”
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>“Mhm.”
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>As you gave Fluttershy tummy rubs in her post-popsicle bliss you wondered what the two troublemakers were up to.
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>You spotted them.
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>They were busy dueling with sticks on the teeter-totter.
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>You prayed that they both impale each other.
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>”Mister Anon?”
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“Yes, Fluttershy?”
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>”Can we go feed the ducks?”
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>You approached the bird feed dispenser.
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>One bit per turn.
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>You engaged your usual routine: pushing the lever, then kicking the damn thing.
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>A bunch of feed fell into the catch.
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>“Rarity said that’s stealing.”
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>And Rarity’s a dumb cunt.
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“I’ve got a life-time pass for the duck food.”
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>“You do?”
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“We’ve gotta feed the ducks for the rest of our lives, don’t we?”
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>“Yeah!”
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>There must be an evil force resonating off of you. The ducks immediately saw away as you sat down at the edge of the pond.
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>“Come here little duckies,” Fluttershy whispered gently.
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>Like magic, the ducks turned around toward her.
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>You took turns throwing the feed to them.
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“Have Rainbow Dash and Applejack been playing nice with you?”
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>“Yes.”
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>She giggled as a train of baby ducks following their mother joined the fun.
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“How come you didn’t play with them today?”
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>“I don’t know.”
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“Do you think you could have fun with them once the ducks are full?”
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>“I like playing with you.”
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“We can still play together.”
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>“They dared me to pee-pee in the sandbox.”
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>You’re going to kill them.
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>“Would it be okay?”
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>Only for her would you be doing this.
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>The shy foal stood nervously in the sandbox, hindquarters facing the paltry “castle” that the two brats had made.
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>You looked over your pristine sandbox with the premium Saddle-Arabian sand one last time.
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“FLUTTERSHY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
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>You looked down to Fluttershy and nodded.
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>Fluttershy suppressed her giggle, closed her eyes, and started to concentrate.
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>It was a long shot.
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>Going while someone was around was tough for anyone.
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>Surprisingly, Applejack was the first pony on the scene.
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>You saw Fluttershy’s face scrunch tighter.
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>She was shaking.
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>Suddenly there was a loud clunk and a high pitched shriek.
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>Rainbow Dash had appeared on the edge of the sandbox!
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>You heard the hollow sound of liquid hitting plastic and turned back towards Fluttershy just in time to see her pale amber stream make contact with the side of a toy bucket.
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>She was peeing!
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>Her gentle exhale harmonized with the sizzling serenade that danced across the sandbox. Its sputters and splatters left behind darkened sand as fizzy pools were swallowed underneath.
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>It hit you.
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>Her young scent.
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>Pungent, yet redolent. It left you breathless as her chamomile blended with the humidity of the morning breeze.
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>The fraction of a smirk on her face sliced into your electric yellow heartbeat while you shakily raised your finger gun at her.
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>The plastic shovels beneath gathered small droplets while a shallow well of her pee had gathered in the bottom of the bucket.
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>You watched, fully asphyxiated, as Fluttershy’s relief appeared to taper off.
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>She shivered, tingling with goosebumps that forced out a meek mew and a final expulsion of fluid that rained down onto the castle, kicking up sand before the nectar suffused into its walls.
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>“Don’t shoot her!” Applejack yelled.
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>“She now owns this land by pee-pee decree!” Rainbow Dash added.
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>Your breath was short. Their high pitched yells hardly registered as you eyed the path of damp fur that ran down Fluttershy’s hind leg.
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“I’m s-sorry Princess Fluttershy, my mistake.”
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>Your words had come out in a low mutter.
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>“You did it Fluttershy! He surrendered.” Rainbow Dash said excitedly.
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>Fluttershy’s mark had been successful.
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>Paper legs carried you back to the bench.
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>Your swatting hand stopped midair.
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>The dragonflies.
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>Tammy and Philip had landed on your leg, attached to each other as they teetered on the fabric that lead into to your now empty pocket.
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>In the distance you watched Rainbow Dash and Applejack congratulating her, the pretty filly with the butterfly cutie mark.
by ppanon