Anon's Saucy Adventure Pt. 1


                                            Originally Published October 18th, 2018


                                            >"Didn't I tell you to stop making tulpas?"

                                            Didn't I tell you to I stopped making them like four years ago? Be a bit more of a jerk, why don't you?

                                            >The Princess Librarian takes her glasses off, setting them on the table with a sigh

                                            >"I don't know what you expect me to tell you, Anon. You've been living here for what, six years now?"

                                            >You nod

                                            Give or take, yeah.

                                            >"And you expect me to believe, despite having shown no prior magical affinity, that you've suddenly manifested the ability to use magic?"

                                            Trixie did!

                                            >"Trixie is also a unicorn, Anon."

                                            >Twilight floats a kettle of tea from the kitchen, refreshing her cup and pouring a new one for you

                                            >"But that aside, not only do you expect me to believe that you have magic, but that it also has a physical form only you can see, and the only thing it can do is make food?"

                                            >You rub the back of your neck

                                            Well, when you put it like that it sounds dumb, but it's the truth!

                                            >She looks at you with an expression that could make Costanza blush

                                            Don't you shiggy me, horse! I can prove it!

                                            >You plunge your hands into your pockets and rip a handful of saucy noodles and meat out of your pants

                                            >"That doesn't prove a thing."

                                            >You can almost smell the shape of a baseball bat cradled in her hooves

                                            What?! I'm literally pulling it out of nowhere!

                                            >You throw the pasta down and grab two more handfuls from your pockets

                                            >"You're literally pulling it out of your pockets!"

                                            BECAUSE THAT'S HOW IT WORKS!

                                            >"Because you made it at home and shoved it in your pants before coming here!"

                                            >Pasta begins to rise out of your pants seemingly of its own accord

                                            SEE!?

                                            >"Why would magic make something so pointless?!"

                                            I DUNNO TWI, HOW ABOUT WE ASK YOUR MOM?!

                                            >You fling a handful of noodles into her face

                                            1/


                                            >The room falls silent

                                            >For a brief moment, you see her mane erupt in flame

                                            >And then, you find yourself outside

                                            >Ten feet above the ground

                                            Fuck!

                                            >A croaking noise fills your ear, and a wave of pasta rushes out of your pants, forming a cushion on the ground

                                            >But, being made of pasta, it does little to cushion the impact

                                            >Shakily, you stand up, groaning and clutching at your bruised ass

                                            Ahh, that's gonna hurt for the rest of the week.

                                            >From behind you, you feel a gentle pressure helping you to stand up

                                            You're a real fucking pain, you know that?

                                            >The creature moves to your side, a humanoid frog in a greying hoodie

                                            >It croaks at you, looking somewhat pleased with itself

                                            Yeah yeah, I know. But I'm not implying shit when I'm stating a flat fact.

                                            >With a bit of focus, the frog fades out of sight

                                            Still got to think of a name for you though, I guess. But I'll do that tomorrow.

                                            >Your hands find their way into your now spaghettiless pockets, and you make your way home


                                            >After you leave Twilight's, the bushes nearby begin to rustle, and a young pony tumbles out of them

                                            2/


                                            >Your ass was sore well into the next morning after Twilight dropped you outside, and you massage at your bruised cheeks as you make your way downstairs

                                            Fffft!, you hiss on every step

                                            Last time I go to her for help. Dumb bi- horse.

                                            >You rip a bowl from the cabinet and dip a hand into the pocket of your pajama pants

                                            >With a PLAP, you set your noodles inside the bowl and place them inside of your oven to warm up

                                            >While you wait for your pasta to warm up, you sit down at the table and scribble a large "t" onto a piece of paper

                                            Okay, so in Twilights favor: If I had magic, it should have manifested long before now...

                                            >A line goes below the left branch of the "t"

                                            Plus, there is a good chance that making all those tulpas did fuck with my head.

                                            >The pencil scratches a second line by the first

                                            But I do know for a fact that I am not making pasta and then shoving it into my pants pockets like some kind of psycho.

                                            >You make a line on the right side of the chart

                                            >Tap tap tap

                                            >A gentle knocking from your door pulls you off your train of thought

                                            Coming!

                                            >Pulling yourself out of the couch, with your pencil tucked by your ear, you make your way to the door

                                            >Knock knock knock

                                            Yeah, Yeah I heard you!

                                            >The sun blinds you for a second as the door opens, but color vision quickly returns to you

                                            >And with it, you see no sign of the pony who knocked on your door

                                            “Hello?”, you call out, scanning the horizon

                                            >”Down here.”

                                            >The voice draws your eyes downward, and you see a pinkish filly sporting a violet mane tied into loose pigtails

                                            Damn, is it the Filly Scouts time of year already?

                                            >”No, I’m here to kick your butt.”

                                            >Wow, the sales pitch is more aggressive than last year

                                            I bet you are. Can I get two boxes of Samoas before you do that, though?

                                            >You pull ten bits from your pocket and try giving them to the filly

                                            >She glares at you in response

                                            >”Don’t patronize me, jerk. Put your money back and take your lumps like an adult.”

                                            3/


                                            You can’t go around giving out cookies for free though. Here, just take the-

                                            >You wave the cash at her to entice her into taking it and she snaps are your hand, narrowly missing your fingers

                                            Jeez! You just lost yourself a customer, young lady!

                                            >”I’M NOT EVEN SELLING ANYTHING.”

                                            >Stepping back from the screaming filly, you lock the door and make your way to the kitchen

                                            Hopefully my spaghetti is warmed up by now.

                                            >The over door creaks as it opens, and you retrieve a warm bowl of pasta from the inside

                                            >The faint smells of tomato and garlic tickle at your nose

                                            Well, you may not be cookies, but at least you’re f-AH!

                                            >Glaring at you from your kitchen window is the terrible Filly Scout from before

                                            >You set your pasta down on the counters and glare back at her

                                            You almost gave me a heart attack, you cretin!

                                            >”I’m going to give you a lot worse than that in a second!”

                                            >She drops down from the windowsill, and you quickly move to lock your kitchen door

                                            >The bolt slides into place, and you can hear the filly grumbling to herself

                                            That’s right! Now go home before I call your mom on you.

                                            >Her silence is instant

                                            >Your empty threat worked, and you smile

                                            >”ORA!”

                                            The fuck?

                                            >Your house shudders, and you can hear the sounds of creaking and popping as the wood in your walls resists against an unknown force

                                            >Your cabinet doors jostle themselves open as the house continues to spasm, and the bowl of pasta shatters and spills across the floor

                                            What the hell are you doing to my house?!

                                            >With a loud crack, you feel the floor begin to shift

                                            >"ORA!"

                                            >Time slows to a crawl as the floor races up your legs and launches you skyward

                                            >Your house rotates around you as you float in the air

                                            >With a drawn out croaking noise, your stand manifests in front of you, and spaghetti courses out of your pockets and around your body

                                            >A heavy crash fills your ears as your house hits the ground, roof first

                                            >And time snaps back to its normal rate as you fall onto your ceiling with a saucy 'SPLAP'

                                            4/


                                            >"All right, mister!"

                                            >A powerful blow rings out on your kitchen wall, and your spaghetti dinner falls from your floor to your ceiling

                                            >You try to sit up, but can only manage to lift your head from your spaghetti cocoon

                                            >A second blow hits, and the wall explodes into wood splinters and drywall chunks

                                            >The filly from before steps through the hole she made, flanked by a strange bipedal figure

                                            What the hell is wrong with you?

                                            >"...wrong with me?"

                                            >The figure raises an oversized hand and punches the wall, making the house shake

                                            >"What's wrong with me," she growls as she advances on you, "is not a dang thi-!"

                                            >In a scene almost from a children's cartoon, she steps onto your floor/ceiling spaghetti and slides headfirst into your flatware cabinet

                                            >>"Guhh...", she grumbles as she falls over

                                            >The figure she entered your house with fades out of sight when she hits the ceiling


                                            >A few minutes later, you find the strength to pull yourself out of your pasta armor

                                            >And, after flipping your couch and balancing the legs on your ceiling-turned-floor, you gently set your attacker down on it

                                            Well, this wasn't like my chinese comics at all.

                                            >You plop onto the couch by her head, which probably isn't a good idea since she's unconscious, and look her over

                                            >She's young, probably not much older than Applebloom, with a cutie mark of a hedgehog

                                            >Her mane, now that you look closely at it, is fairly messy with small twigs and that oily sheen that comes from not washing it for a long time

                                            >And her build isn't much better, being slight to the point of barely being there at all

                                            Fucks sake...

                                            >Standing up, carefully, you climb towards your bedroom and start digging through the mess

                                            Where is it...aha!

                                            >Wedged under your mattress is a hand-sized piece of wood, with purple runes carved into the surface

                                            >Heaving a sigh and swallowing your pride, you bring the magical object to your ear

                                            Heeey Twilight, I know you're probably not in the mood to talk to me right now, but I need a favor...

                                            5/


                                            >And so, after an hour and enough ass-kissing to make Rikishi blush, your house has been set back the way God, Celestia, and The HOA intended

                                            >The inside of your house, however, is still as much of a mess as it was before

                                            >Furniture is scattered through all the rooms of your home

                                            >Pasta sauce drips off the ceiling as you move around your kitchen, setting the table and chairs upright

                                            >Your work done, you sit down and summon your stand, which sta-...appears beside you

                                            Okay. She should be waking up any minute now. With all the crap blocking the front door, the only way she'll have to get out is through the kitchen door behind us.

                                            >You gesture at the gaping hole in the wall behind you

                                            All I need now is for you to look intimidating.

                                            >Your stand flips its hoodie up, hiding the top half of its froggy face

                                            Perfect.

                                            >"Ugh, my head", groans the young filly in your living room

                                            >You hear a thump as she falls off your couch, and heavy hoofsteps follow as she makes her way towards the kitchen

                                            >As she passes through the doorway, her eyes go wide when she sees you

                                            >"Why are you still here?"

                                            Well, this is my house.

                                            >"But I tipped your house over."

                                            That doesn't change the fact that it's my house."

                                            >"No, I mean...ugh."

                                            >She growls as she climbs into the empty chair

                                            >"Why am I still here?"

                                            Oh, that!

                                            >You lean across the table towards your guest

                                            It's because you tipped my house over.

                                            >She glares at you in response, and her stand manifests behind her, giving you your first clear look at it

                                            >And it looks like the unholy spawn of Pippi Longstocking and Metal Knuckles

                                            >"Stop joshing."

                                            No joshery here. You flipped my house over and messed up all my stuff, so you have to help me fix it up and get replacements and stuff.

                                            >"Why should I have to help YOU fix YOUR stuff?"

                                            Because YOU'RE the one who broke it. Plus, I'd be willing to give you room and board until all the work is done.

                                            >You can hear her stomach roar at the thought of food, and her stand disappears

                                            6/


                                            Of course, it's up to you if you want t-

                                            >"Okay, I'll help fix your house."

                                            -oo staaay.

                                            >Damnit, you had a whole speech prepared and everything about the value of work

                                            >Your stand goes to the oven and removes two warmed bowls of pants spaghetti from inside

                                            By the way, what do you call your stand?

                                            >"Stand?"

                                            "Yeah, you know. These guys.", you say as you gesture at your own Stand

                                            >The bowls clink on the table as they are gingerly set down

                                            >"Banished. What about yours?"

                                            Me? Oh, I named it...

                                            >You scan you stand, drawing deep into the wellspring of your being to find a suitable name

                                            Green...sleeves. Greensleeves.

                                            >Your stand shakes its head in dismay and disappears

                                            >"That's lame. Even your stand thought it was lame."

                                            Yeah, well it beat you didn't it? Now eat your pasta; starting tomorrow, we'll have a lot of work ahead of us.

                                            >The filly picks at her bowl for a moment, darting glances between you and her food

                                            Well?

                                            >As if you said a magic word, she mashes her face into the bowl and dines in earnest

                                            >You chuckle at her as you twirl some noodles onto a fork and raise them to your lips

                                            >It takes all you can do to resist vomiting

                                            "This pasta tastes like ass and soda!", you cry as you hurl your fork into the wall

                                            >How is she stomaching this?

                                            >"YOUGONNAEATTHATNOOKAY"

                                            >Banished's arm rockets toward your bowl and rips it back towards its user

                                            >The wind from its arm is strong enough to knock you to the floor

                                            >As you rub your bruised ass yet again, you try to look at the positives

                                            >If you are crazy, at least you've met someone who shares your delusions

                                            /7


                                            Stand Stats

                                            Stand Name: Banished https://youtu.be/xFgdIBW180k

                                            User: Lily Longsocks

                                            Power: S

                                            Speed: A

                                            Range: D

                                            Durability: D

                                            Precision: B

                                            Potential: C


                                            Stand Name: Greensleeves https://youtu.be/XCspzg9-bAg

                                            User: Anonymous

                                            Power: D