The Decoy


                                            Synopsis: Fluttershy teams up with Applejack to utilise one of the most potent weapons of all: decision theory.


                                            >If a rapist horse rapes a guy who is blind, deaf, *and* mute, and no-one else is around to see it—is it really rape?

                                            >Such macabre musings to yourself are cut short by a set of soft knocks upon your door.

                                            >You walk over to it and open it, finding none other than Tweedledee and Tweedledum awaiting you on the other side.

                                            >That is to say—both Fluttershy and Applejack stand on your doorstep, smiling up at you; Fluttershy is wearing saddlebags.

                                            "You two…"

                                            >"Hello."

                                            >"Howdy!"

                                            >You cross your arms.

                                            "I get why *this* one"—you point to Fluttershy—"is here, but what do *you* want, Applejack?"

                                            >"We're working together on this one," Fluttershy states.

                                            >"Eeyup, what she said!"

                                            >You let out a large, exhausted sigh.

                                            "Fine then. Go on—what fetish is it this time? Hats? Southern drawls? Your boring-ass apples? Answer is no to all of them, by the way."

                                            >Applejack frowns at you.

                                            >"Oh no, no fetish guesses today," Fluttershy says. "We're here to give you a choice."

                                            >You raise a mildly-curious eyebrow.

                                            "A…choice?"

                                            >Fluttershy gives you a friendly nod before continuing.

                                            >"I want to have sex with you."

                                            "Uh… That's straightforward, I guess."

                                            >"But only if that's okay with you, that is," Fluttershy adds.

                                            "And if it isn't?"

                                            >"Then, um, you can head back inside."

                                            "Oh, cool. Bye."

                                            >That was easy.

                                            >You close the door on them.

                                            >But before you can fully close it, a steadfast orange hoof sticks through the opening and blocks it.

                                            >"Now hold on there, partner!"

                                            "Ugh."

                                            >You begrudgingly reopen the door.

                                            "What?" you spit.

                                            >"We ain't finished here just yet."

                                            "You gave me two choices—I picked one. Seems pretty 'finished' to me."

                                            >"Not quite, 'cause you see, there's a third option in all this."

                                            "Really now…"

                                            >"Yup, mine."

                                            >Applejack clears her throat.

                                            >"Ah want a roll in the hay with ya, and…"

                                            >She tips her hat at an upward angle, giving you a grin.

                                            >"Ah wanna break your legs," she casually states.

                                            "Uh…"

                                            >You blink.

                                            "What?"

                                            >"You heard me—Ah wanna take your bone, than Ah wanna break your other ones. That sound alright with you?"

                                            "No! That does *not* sound 'alright'—at all."

                                            >"So what's it gonna be then, partner? Fluttershy? Or me?"

                                            "Think I'm still gonna stick with the sexless option, thanks."

                                            >"Huh? Now wait just a—"

                                            >You close the door before Applejack can finish; thankfully, you manage to close it all the way this time.

                                            >You had hoped to get through today *without* being subject to any threats of physical violence, but a win is a win, regardless.

                                            >Leisurely, you make your way over to your couch and sit down, resuming your rape-flavoured philosophical musings.

                                            >If you replaced every body part of Fluttershy with that of a different pony—would she still be a perverted rapist?

                                            >Hm…


                                            >As you ponder such a conundrum to yourself, you can hear Fluttershy and Applejack argue among themselves on the other side of your door.

                                            >While you can't quite make out what they're saying, it's fun to hear them angrily bitch at each other because they couldn't win over the HMD this day.

                                            >The bickering eventually subsides, and the ponies start knocking on your door again.

                                            >Yeah, no. You're not putting up with any more of their bullshit.

                                            >They've had their chance for carnality for the day, and they failed it—as per usual.

                                            >So you ignore it.

                                            >The knocking slowly increases in volume and force.

                                            >After some time, said knocking turns into loud banging.

                                            >You still ignore it.

                                            >Eventually, Fluttershy flutters up to the other side of your window and lightly taps on the pane.

                                            >"Um, Anon? Could you open the door again, please?"

                                            "Eenope."

                                            >You hear another set of loud bangs upon your door.

                                            >"ANON, OPEN THE GOSH DARN DOOR RIGHT NOW OR AH'M GONNA BUCK IT DOWN!"

                                            >Fuck, why did Fluttershy have to enlist the redneck for this one.

                                            "Eefine."

                                            >Without a trace of enthusiasm, you stand up off of your couch and plod back to your door.

                                            >You open it and find who else but Fluttershy and Applejack once again.

                                            >Applejack gives you an unamused look.

                                            >You give her a disgruntled one.

                                            "You're going on my restraining order shitlist for that one, Applejack."

                                            >"Hold that thought, partner."

                                            >Applejack turns her head to Fluttershy.

                                            >"Fluttershy, you mind explainin' this whole shindig to us?"

                                            >"Oh, right. Um…let's try this again, then."

                                            >Fluttershy reaches into her saddlebags and pulls out a book titled "Biases for Birdbrains."

                                            >She flips a few pages in, then looks up at you with a focused expression.

                                            >"Anon, I want to have sex with you."

                                            "And I've had to deal with the ramifications of this for several years, yes."

                                            >"Well…if you had the option to either have sex with me right now, or go back into your house, what would you pick?"

                                            >You roll your eyes.

                                            "You already know the answer to that, but Applejack will destroy my door if I try to leave."

                                            >"An' it's for your own good."

                                            >"So that's a no on the 'having sex with me' thing, then? You would rather go back inside your house?"

                                            "Obviously."

                                            >"Okay, that's, um, fine."

                                            >There's a small spark of hope within your breast that wonders if she finally gets it.

                                            >But the more grounded part of you knows that this is just one part in another of her feather-brained schemes.

                                            >A scheme that you're forced to observe in its entirety thanks to her hired hillbilly muscle.

                                            >Fluttershy continues to read through her book.

                                            >"Okay…so you picked option two—going back inside. But now things have changed; Applejack comes along…"

                                            >Applejack tips her hat while Fluttershy continues.

                                            >"…and she wants to have sex with you *and* break your legs."

                                            >Fluttershy peeks over the book at you.

                                            >"How do you feel about that?"

                                            "I feel like Applejack is into some weird-ass snuff play and I'm not."

                                            >"What?! No—it ain't like that!" Applejack retorts.


                                            >"So that option is much less preferable to you than the others, right?"

                                            "Well…yeah. I *do* prefer my legs to be functioning properly."

                                            >"Right, and now that there's a third, inferior choice added to the mix—doesn't it make you reevaluate your options?"

                                            "Huh…"

                                            >You snap your fingers.

                                            "You know what—you're exactly right!"

                                            >Fluttershy's eyes light up as she waits for your epiphany.

                                            >"Yes…?"

                                            "After a deep and thorough reevaluation of my situation—I've decided that I really don't want to fuck *either* of you!"

                                            >And just like that, the spark of hope fades from Fluttershy's eyes.

                                            >"Oh…but…no. No—that's not right…"

                                            "Sounds pretty right to me."

                                            >"But you're supposed to want to pick the other option."

                                            "And how's *that* supposed to work out?"

                                            >"Well, it's all part of what I read in here."

                                            >She taps the "Biases for Birdbrains" book held in her hoof.

                                            "Your…'Birdbrain' book?"

                                            >"Yes! Twilight lent it to me!" She smiles proudly.

                                            "Uh huh…"

                                            >"I read about all of this: it's a type of cognitive bias called the 'Decoy Effect.' How it's supposed to work is that I present to you two options—'A' and 'B.' 'A' is you walking away and 'B' is, um, you and I getting intimate."

                                            "Mhmm, and I'll give you three guesses to the one I'll pick every time."

                                            >She pouts at you before continuing.

                                            >"Um, yes, so you pick option 'A,' at first. So then we introduce a new option—option 'C.' This one is worse than the others because of the…well, leg-breaking threat."

                                            "I dunno, if it came down to it and my legs weren't in jeopardy, I'd probably pick Applejack over you."

                                            >Fluttershy gives you a look of genuine hurt, her ears flattening.

                                            >It was an admittedly low blow, but after all the convoluted bullshit she's put you through today, it's hard to say she doesn't deserve it.

                                            >Applejack crosses one foreleg over the other and gives you a grin.

                                            >"Aw shucks, partner. But this ain't about me. Right Flutters?" She turns to Fluttershy and gives her a few reassuring pats on the withers.

                                            >Damn, Applejack can be a real friend sometimes, doubly so for putting up and going along with one of Fluttershy's schemes.

                                            >Unfortunately, her camaraderie is only good for Fluttershy, less so for you.

                                            >Nevertheless, Applejack's words appear to reinvigorate Fluttershy, as she nods in response.

                                            >"R-right! So—anyway, because we've introduced a less-appealing third option, that should make you want to choose the other option: 'B,' which is mine."

                                            >You cross your arms.

                                            "What—just like that?"

                                            >"Well…if you don't mind, that is."

                                            >You look to the side as you chew your lip in faux-thought.

                                            >She leans towards you in building anticipation.

                                            >"So…?"

                                            >You look back at her.

                                            "Mmnope. Still don't want to fuck you."

                                            >"Oh…"

                                            >Fluttershy dejectedly puts the book back in her saddlebags.


                                            >Applejack sighs.

                                            >"Ah told you this was gonna be a waste of time, Flutters."

                                            >"But—"

                                            >"Y'see, all of this here brain voodoo you're tryin' to do—it's goin' right over his head. Anon's a simple sort, so if you wanna get right between his flanks, you need simple methods."

                                            >You begin to nod in agreement, but stop yourself when you realise this fucking Apple horse just called you "simple."

                                            "Hey!"

                                            >"Ah'm just calling it how Ah see it. Don't pretend you understand a lick of this fancy cogno-whatsit business; Ah could see your eyes rollin' over when Flutters tried explainin' it."

                                            >You could just let this go—let the farmpony take the "W," as it were.

                                            >But your pride demands you stand up for yourself.

                                            >The psychology classes you were forced to sit through back in high school had to have meant something, damn it!

                                            >So you shake your head.

                                            "Actually, I have a pretty good idea of what Fluttershy's yabbering about."

                                            >"Oh, that right?" Applejack raises a doubtful eyebrow.

                                            "Yup."

                                            >Both mares sit down on their haunches as they prepare for you to lay down some esoteric monkey knowledge.

                                            "And not just that, I also know how she's fucked it up."

                                            >Fluttershy's ears perk up and she looks at you with interest.

                                            >"You do?"

                                            "See, Fluttershy—there's a huge flaw in your 'brain voodoo,' as Applejack puts it."

                                            >"What do you mean?" She tilts her head.

                                            "This strategy you're employing hinges on me wanting anything to do with your stinky horse ass."

                                            >She frowns.

                                            >"My butt isn't stinky; I never miss my monthly bath."

                                            >Even Applejack gives her a disgusted side-eye at that one.

                                            "…Moving on. In order for this little fallacy of yours to work, you need to offer me something I actually want, like—uh…"

                                            >You glance around the perimeter of your front yard.

                                            "I've been looking into setting up one of those magical doodads that generate a magical forcefield around my house."

                                            >"Wait, why would you want to do that?" Fluttershy asks you innocently.

                                            >You give her a blank stare.

                                            "…Reasons."

                                            >Fluttershy hums in thought while Applejack rolls her eyes.

                                            "So, hypothetically, say that you come along and offer to source a brand-new forcefield generator for me, with the price being that I have to fuck you."

                                            >"Oh, and then you accept my offer and we finally have sex?" She smiles at you hopefully.

                                            "No. I reject your offer because even though I want the anti-rapist barrier—I don't want it enough to deal with your bullshit."

                                            >She frowns.

                                            "So those are our two options, same as before; we'll call the 'no sex and no barrier' option 'A,' and the 'trade sex for barrier' option 'B.'"

                                            >"Ah don't get it; why can't you just buy one of those doohickies yourself?" Applejack asks.

                                            "Uh, let's say the only shop that sells these things only sells them to Elements of Harmony."

                                            >"Oh, then why don't you just ask Twi or Rares to buy one for you! Ah'm sure they'd be willin' to do you right without attachin' a price tag to it."


                                            "…I think we're getting off topic here."

                                            >"I like option 'B,' for what it's worth," Fluttershy says.

                                            >You sigh.

                                            >"S-sorry, go on."

                                            "So then Applejack comes along, right? And she gives me another offer—she'll give me one of her old magical doodad hand-me-downs—"

                                            >"Now hold on there—we don't use any of that magical hooey over at the farm," Applejack adds. "And how would Ah have been able to even afford one of these here whatsits anyhow? They sound mighty expensive."

                                            "Work with me here. Anyway, she offers me one of her doodads, but the catch is—she wants to bang me up and out, legs included. We'll call this marrow-mashing option: option 'C.'"

                                            >Applejack tilts her head.

                                            >"Uh, like before, right?"

                                            "Yeah, but not only that—the forcefield thingamajig she's offering is worn to shit; thing doesn't even turn on half the time, and it's got, like…small magical holes in the field it generates. All in all—kind of a piss-poor product."

                                            >"Oh, so her offer is worse than mine in both ways?" Fluttershy asks.

                                            "Yeah, painful sex and a half-baked generator. But remember—even though this worn-down generator is kinda shitty, it's still better than nothing, which makes it better than option 'A' in some respects."

                                            >Fluttershy nods thoughtfully.

                                            >"So not only is her offer worse than mine, it's also comparable to the first option?"

                                            "Right, now you're getting it. That's what we call 'asymmetrical domination.'"

                                            >Just as she opens her mouth to speak—you cut her off.

                                            "And don't bother making a crass remark about 'domination.' I'm onto you."

                                            >"I-I wasn't going to."

                                            >Your internal Flutterbullshit-o-meter is telling you otherwise.

                                            >"But, um, you don't want to have sex with Applejack, right? That's why you'd still pick option 'A.'"

                                            "Yeah, because I'm not a horse-fucking degenerate."

                                            >Applejack huffs; whether it's due to boredom or annoyance, you can't tell.

                                            >You're not even sure why she's still here, but you're too into this explanation to bother shooing her off.

                                            "But let's imagine for a moment that this is some cursed backwards reality where I'm more open to committing such blasphemy against God—enough to actually consider fucking a horse in exchange for a magical trinket."

                                            >Fluttershy closes her eyes and subtly begins wiggling her rump on your doorstep.

                                            >"Mm…it's a nice thing to imagine…"

                                            >You take the initiative before she can stain your nice welcome mat any further; crouching down, you snap your fingers in front of her face, startling her.

                                            >"E-eep!"

                                            "Aaanyway, with that in mind, the addition of this less-attractive third option is what we call the 'decoy.' Basically, Applejack's offer is strictly worse than your offer, but still comparable to my choice to walk away without any kind of barrier doodad."

                                            >"So if you had to choose between me or Applejack, y-you'd pick me!" Fluttershy says with an inordinate amount of glee.

                                            >Applejack doesn't respond to that verbal jab, instead continuing to listen to your explanation with an attentive gaze.


                                            "In this *hypothetical* scenario, sure; I'll let you have this one. Because you see—the 'decoy' in these scenarios is never meant to be seriously considered as an option; it only exists to draw someone's eye to the option you *do* want them to pick by framing it as the superior choice. Which in this case…"

                                            >You sigh, reluctantly mustering up your next few words.

                                            "…would be to have sex with you, yes."

                                            >Fluttershy's eyes widen.

                                            >"Oh! So that's how it works! I just needed to offer you something extra!"

                                            "If that's your takeaway from this…sure, whatever."

                                            >Fluttershy excitedly clasps her forehooves together, no doubt already plotting further schemes in her head to try and get into your pants.

                                            >Applejack stands back up and tips her hat to you.

                                            >"Can't say Ah understood a lick of what you were sayin', but it was interestin' all the same. Thanks for tryin' to run this through our heads, Anon."

                                            "Uh…thanks, I think."

                                            >Fluttershy's excited movements subside and she gives you a bashful smile.

                                            >"Oh, Anon, one more thing; if that's alright with you."

                                            >You sigh.

                                            "What is it?"

                                            >Fluttershy shuffles her forehooves together nervously.

                                            >"Um…hypothetically, if I was able to get my hooves on one of these magical forcefields for real…?" Her smile widens ever so slightly.

                                            "See, this doesn't really work when I know exactly what your plan is."

                                            >"Oh…okay…" She lowers her head dejectedly.

                                            >Applejack chuckles.

                                            >"Flutters, it's like Ah always say—if you want somethin' done right, you gotta be direct."

                                            >She turns around.

                                            "See? Applejack gets it; now get lost—"

                                            >And she bucks you full force in the knees; you hear a sickening series of snaps and cracks as you finally understand what it must feel like to get hit by one of those bone-crunching fatal blows in Mortal Kombat.


                                            >You let out a shrill scream as you are sent flying several feet backwards into your house.

                                            >And when you impact the floor on your back—you scream even louder.

                                            >Your legs feel like jello.

                                            >Painful, fleshy jello that has several shattered fragments of bone in it.

                                            >"A-applejack! What are you doing?!"

                                            >"Me? Ah'm just helping Anon along with his decision; figured Ah'd give a little 'nudge' in the right direction, if you catch my meanin'."

                                            >"B-but he said—and that you—and then me—"

                                            >"See, it's just like Ah said, Flutters—you're overcomplicatering…overcomplicuh…overtin…uh, thinkin' too hard!"

                                            >"But—oh gosh! His legs look like they're in a really bad way! W-we should get him to a hospital!"

                                            >"Well then you better get a move on an' let our medicine mares know! Ah'll keep watch over him in the meantime."

                                            >"U-um, okay!"

                                            >Fluttershy gallops away in search of medical help.

                                            >In any other situation, you'd be glad of her departure.

                                            >But considering your present company, you feel like you've been punted out of the nice, bipedal frying pan—and into the wheelchair-bound fire.

                                            >Applejack watches Fluttershy leave with a smile on her face.

                                            >"An' there she goes… Reckon Ah'll have enough time to get 'er done for the both of us."

                                            >She turns around to face you.

                                            >With great difficulty, you manage to push your upper body up slightly, getting a better look at your aggressor as she begins to walk up to you.

                                            >"Whoa now Anon, don't go pushin' yourself too hard there. Ah don't wanna be breakin' any more bones of yours—Ah'll be needing at least one of 'em."

                                            "F-fuck! Applejack, why?!"

                                            >"Heh, just a little spur of the moment really. Truth be told—Ah was just gonna leave you an' Flutters to it after her plan failed, but…"

                                            >She saunters closer to you.

                                            >"It's just…hearing you explain those fancy concepts to little ol' me got me more riled up than a rooster in a hen house." She crosses her hind legs together and lets out a excited snort.

                                            "W-wait, you mean…?"

                                            >She nods.

                                            >"Eeyup. Reckon it might one of those 'fetishes' you an' Flutters are always goin' on about."

                                            >You grimace; how could you possibly have foreseen this?

                                            "F-fuck…"

                                            >"Yeah… Ah reckon we'll be doin' a lot of that."

                                            >You muse to yourself one last time.

                                            >If a cartoon pony shatters near every bone in your lower body, then walks up to you to shatter one more—is it rape?

                                            >The answer…is yes.

                                            >Applejack straddles you, resting a firm forehoof on your chest.

                                            >And she gives you a sultry grin.

                                            >"Giddy up, partner."

                                            >Fucking brain voodoo.