Death Note

>Own fluffy pony
>You're no animal abuser
>You love your fluffy
>You have really good times together
>He even helps you sometimes; his simplistic, child-like outlook often sheds much-needed perspective on your life
>But some times
>SOME TIMES
>Times like when he has an "accident" on a photo of your mother, because it fell from your desk face-up and has the same colors as his litter box
>Times like when he impregnated a girl fluffy at the par - and you were dating her owner
>Times like when he gets ballsy and assumes he can break the rules in exchange for threats of "big owwies!"
>Of course, all these problems are easily rectified with a newspaper battering or other light punishment
>But... SOME TIMES... YOU JUST WANT TO SEE HIM GET WHAT'S COMING TO HIM
>Today was one of those TIMES
>This TIME, he had an "accident" on a photo of your mother, because it fell from your desk face-up and has the same colors as his litter box (it was sepia)
>This TIME, you absolutely have to blow off some steam

>So, you proceeded to go right to /mlp/, and find the currently open Fluffy Pony thread
>Thought #1: Holy shit, these guys are edgy. Never new there were so many sickfucks in THESE threads
>Thought #2: Don't care
>Say, all these people are writing stories about killing their fluffy ponies - righteous revenge and all that
>You assume no one ever ACTUALLY does these things...
>They're just... blowing... off steam...
>
>You begin to spin a yarn
>A yarn about your small, pink pegasus fluff
>Who has been a very, very bad fluffy pony
>Meanwhile, your fluffy pony is tapping at your ankle
>"Daddy, fwuffy sowee... fwuffy dawt fwuffy ha' wittabos'... fwuffy di' meen 'a ma' poopies on daddy's dingy..."
>You don't respond
>You keep on spinning
>"...daddy? Daddy no heaw fwuffy?"
>You spin about grabbing your fluffy by its throat and screaming in its ear
>"... fwuffy ba'... daddy... *sob* d-, daddy no w-, wuv fw-, fwuffeeee..." he cries, running away
>You keep writing
>You write about your fluffy pony being deaf due to your voice's ring in its skull
>Fluffy pony whines from its safe room about, "Why no tawk?"
>You write about tying your fluffy pony down and chopping its now-useless ears off
>Fluffy pony is crying again, full force. Fuck him. You're blowing off steam right now
>You write about taking the knife and holding open his jaw, flossing it between his tiny teeth like Wonka Nerds

>Shut out the crying
>No, don't
>Let it fuel your rage
>Write about telling the fluffy pony you never loved it, ever, and making it lick the shit off of your mother's image, and sticking the knife in its mouth and puncturing its brain and... and...
>Posted
>Within two minutes, three people have praised your work...
>Whew... you could get used to this
>But you scroll up and re-read your horrorcore tale
>It sickens you
>This is your friend you're talking about! Almost like a son to you!
>You notice for the first time that fluffy pony has stopped crying
>You think he's learned his lesson
>You get up and stride towards the safe room
"Hey, fluffy, I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, daddy was just really mad beca-"
>To your horror, you find fluffy pony dead
>Dead, with its ears amputated, next to the spit-soaked image of your mother, a disposable knife piercing the roof of its mouth
>Fluffy pony threads are fluffy pony death notes