The Worst Christmas Ever

>It was Christmas Eve
>You were staring at the fireplace, contemplating throwing yourself into the flames.
>It was nearly Christmas Day and your wish to Santa still hadn't been granted.
>You sent him a letter this year, asking him to make you into a cute little pony.
>You were so depressed throughout the year that you decided it was the only option left.
>Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door, the clock striking midnight.
>Curious, you head for the front door and open it.
>It's Santa Claus. He's real?!
>"HO HO HO!" He said merrily, because his expression became rather serious and his tone lowered. "Listen, Anon, we need to talk."
>Confused, you allow Santa to enter your home as he sits on a chair, taking a deep breath.
>"Listen, Anon, you're 32 years old. You have no job, no income and yet the only thing you've wished for is to become a pony, just like you have for the past 7 years."
>You see him face palm, trying to have a lot of patience with you as he sighs heavily.
>"Is this really what you want? You know that there's no taking this wish back once you make it and I have no idea what will happen if I grant something like this."
>It was clear from his tone that he was just sick and tired of getting your letters in the mail and just wanted to be done with you.
>After thinking for a moment, you nod.
>"Alright, then no matter what happens, I hold no accountability for the end result."
>He starts doing his Christmas magic and you soon pass out.
>"JANET! THIS ISN'T THE RIGHT COLOR! CHRISTMAS IS RUINED FOREVER!"
>Jesus Christ, what is that Hellish noise?
>You wake up to see some snot-nosed brat screeching like a banshee, throwing a tantrum in what appears to be a massive mansion.
>"I WANTED A PINK PONY, NOT AN UGLY STUPID RED ONE!"
>She has tears streaming down her face as she starts throwing presents and ornaments everywhere in a destructive rage.
>A woman who appears to be the girl's mother tries to calm her down by meekly saying, "W-Well, maybe Santa didn't have any pink ponies this year, Hannah! Don't you wa-"
>"SHUT UP, JANET, YOU STUPID BITCH! I TOLD SANTA I WANTED A PINK PONY FOR CHRISTMAS! I WANT A FUCKING PINK PONY FOR CHRISTMAS!"
>As you try to block out the maniac's screeching, you notice you now have hooves. Red ones in fact. You get a look in a glass reflection to notice that you are now a red pony with a violet mane, and you're one fine ass mare at that.
>Not that it matters to Little Miss Bitchy here
>"I DON'T WANT HER! GET THAT STUPID ANIMAL OUT OF HERE!"
>She then starts kicking you and punching you, which is more than you can take as you stand up and buck her into the wall.
>She actually shut up.
>Wait, it looks like she's dead, her lifeless limbs hanging limply out of a hole in the wall in a cartoony fashion.
>The mother breaths a sigh of relief.
>"Thank god. I thought she'd never die. Now I can sell the horse to our redneck neighbors for some more crack."
>You were then shipped off to some trailer trash family in the middle of nowhere that had a hard on for ponies and often liked to recreate a gender flipped version of Mr. Hands starring you. Your life was a living hell.