Cult of Anon & Ancient Horror Pinkie

Requests from 11/24/12

Anon; Cult of A’non, Life of Brian style

>This, could be a problem.
>Standing in front of a crowd of thousands, you throw your hands in the air.
“All right, all right!  That’s enough of that, simmer down now.”
>The crowd’s babbling decreases to hushed whispers as all eyes turn on you.
“Now, I don’t really know what you folks are getting at, following me around, singing my praises, but I don’t like it!  Not one bit!”
>The murmuring grows in volume and you see a few heads bobbing, clearly agreeing with your assessment.
>Perhaps this won’t be so difficult after all.
“So, I’m going to advise all of you to shoo.”
>Not a single one of them moves.
“Skedaddle.”
>Thousands of enormous eyes stare up at you as you lift your hand and flex your knuckles, your fingers flicking out at the gathered group repeatedly.
“Be on your way.”
>A single voice, towards the back interrupts your dispersal attempts.
>“But, if we go away, how are we going to see you beat the Matriarchs?”
>The crowd murmurs in agreement at that, becoming steadily louder in direct proportion to their dissent.
“I-I’m not going to fight your rulers, this isn’t even my business!”
>A rather irate jackass pulls himself out of the crowd.
>“You have to!  You’re the one to lead us into the future according to the prophecy!”
“Oh, that’s ridiculous!  Go sit down you ass.”
>The fuzzy faced quadruped sneers up at you.
>“I’m a, MULE!”
“Ah, sorry, honest mistake, really.”
>The frustration of the crowd is growing, as is evident in their stamping hooves and cries of disapproval.
>You are Anonymous.
>And apparently, you are to be the savior for a race of intelligent herbivores.

“Ponies, please!”
>You sigh, holding your hands up.
“I’m sorry that I called your friend an ass.”
>The crowd quiets and begins to shuffle about anxiously.
“Now, why exactly do you need me to overthrow the Matriarchs?”
>“They’re cruel!”
>“They look down on us working class ponies from their ivory tower!”
>“They command the stars!”
>Several other voices ring out at once, but those three stand out.
>Chuckling, you shake your head.
“I’m sure it’s nothing that bad.  I mean, you have homes and roads, and crops and medicine, they’re even building an infrastructure for trains.”
>Some in the crowd begin to nod.
>Good, getting through to them again.
“And, really, don’t you think rulers have something better to do than spend their days looking down on you lot?”
>“But they’ve got a telescope on each of their balconies.  They can see anything going on in the kingdom from up there!”
>Ah, swing and a miss there, Anonymous.
>Better come back strong on your third point.
>Clearing your throat you lift a hand and silence the grumbling ponies.
“And really, are we going to believe that a pair of princesses can control celestial bodies?  I mean, they rise and fall on their own where I come from, so unless the rules of the universe have changed, then life should continue if they’re around or not.”
>The crowd descends into a stunned silence.
>Wide eyes and gaping mouths threaten to swallow you whole in every direction.
>“B-b-blasphemer!”
>Well crap.
>“His blasphemous words…”
>“So cold, so calloused against the Princesses.”
>“He must be the warrior of legend!”
>Silence fills the air a moment longer before being ripped apart with a raucous cheer.

>“Finally!  Someone to look out for us working-class ponies!”
>“A hero of the people!”
>“Huzzah!  Huzzah!  Anonymous shall cast down the Princesses with his masterful intellect!”
“Now, now hold on a minute folks…”
>“Please, Anonymous!  Command us, we are your legion!”
>This has quickly gotten out of hand.
“If you would just listen…”
>“We hear you, Anonymous!  Your words embolden us!”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d strike the last thing I said.”
>“Strike!  He wants us to strike!”
“No, what I want”
>“Tell us where, oh mighty Hero!  For the glory of Anonymous!”
>Another cheer erupts from the crowd and you throw your hands up in disgust.
>They mimic the motion, without breaking the roar of celebration.
>Shaking your head, you grumble to yourself.
“This is a real mess, it is.”
>Looks like it’s going to be one hell of a week.



Malous;
Pinkie wants to try on Anon’s hat.  Badly.

>She’s squirming again.
>Not too surprising to be honest, this is Pinkie Pie that we’re talking about.
>Squirming in place is more or less her natural state.
>But she’s got her eyes locked on you, and that s never a good thing.
>With all her wriggling, she scoots up next to you, going so far as to force herself under the crook of your arm.
>Holding her head upside down, she flashes you her best, pleading grin.
>“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”
>Coughing a few times, she picks right back up where she left off.
>“eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”
>An abrupt sniffle, then back to work.
>“eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese?”
“…No.”
>Like a helium filled balloon with a loose neck, Pinkie expels air with a whistling, wooshing sound, to the point where it actually propels her across to the other side of the bench.
>Setting her lips in a line, she averts her eyes from you.
>Just as the silence settles in, she turns back.
>“Just for a minute?”
“No.”
>“But”
“Not at all.”
>“But it’s so neat looking!”
>You smirk, adjusting your top hat and chuckling.
“It’s more than ‘neat looking’ my dear.  It’s part of my gentlemen’s ensemble.  A man without his hat, is hardly a man at all.  That’s why you can’t have it.”
>Pinkie nods, in understanding, and you both return to pony watching.
>It’s a stretch for Pinkie to sit still this long, but you both enjoy the other’s company, so she makes time for it.
>She makes it a good thirty minutes before speaking again.
>“Hey Anon?”
>Holding back a sigh, you turn to face the pink mare.
>She gazes back at you with dozens of liquid eyes.
>Her vertical maw stretches from muzzle to well underneath her mane.
>Razor sharp fangs glint as her mouth gapes, a toothy vagina that only the darkest of nightmares could conjure.

>“Gimmie your HAT!”
>The squelching screech sends you staggering back from the bench, tumbling end over end.
>Sprawled out against the grass, you can feel your heart pumping its way up into your throat, as if trying to claw a path out of your mouth.
“Help, help!  Please!”
>A frantic search of the area reveals that the Ponyville Park has given way to a land of terrors.
>Under a half-eclipsed sun, obsidian spires glint, reflecting the deathly still light upon the craggy ground.
>The grass under your form is thick with reeds and weeds, jabbing relentlessly into your back.
>And the ponies…
>Monstrosities turn in your general direction.
>Some, like Blinkie Pie, with countless terrible eyes.
>Others with none at all.
>Twisted, contorted, and
>deep within their distorted bodies
>holding a ravenous hunger.
>Eye Pie leaps upon your chest, throttling your throat with her jagged hooves.
>“HAT!”
>With a scream of terror, you remove the top hat and place it on her head.
>In a blink, the world has returned to its pastel state.
>Passing by ponies stare at the strange pair you and Pinkie make.
>She, however, is far too entranced by your hat.
>Giggling, she turns the silk ornament around in her hooves with a manual dexterity that should not be gifted to hooved creatures.
>A few twists and poses, and she seems placated.
>“Thanks, Non-non.  Here’s your hat!”
>Managing a weak smile, you shake your head.
“P-please.  Keep it, just in case you want to see it again.”
>With a happy cheer, the pink pony wiggles off of you and moves back to the bench.
>Without a look backwards, you go home and hang yourself.
>There are some things mortals should not be privy to.
>Hopefully you can re-roll for higher Sanity next time.