Advertisement
Not a member of Pastebin yet?
Sign Up,
it unlocks many cool features!
- >Blackness surrounds you, floating in a void which seems composed of an infinite depth of ink.
- >You are still Anon, only unconscious from pain and morphine.
- >sweetmorphine.exe is running with 99.9% efficiency
- wheeeeeeeee.
- >You’re slowly drifting downwards, caught on an unseen current which whisks you deeper into the carbon abyss.
- >Three feet above the ground, you drop.
- >You hit hard.
- AHRRHGHRHGHRHGHRHGH.
- >Timetogodeeper.jpg.
- >”Anon. What’s the matter?”
- >Look around and see your lifelong friends, Superego, Ego and Id.
- >Superego is white and funny looking.
- >Ego is black and bald.
- >Id is Asian, but you’re still not sure which kind.
- >RUNNING ZOOLANDER OS…..
- I don’t know. I’m pondering things.
- >”You know who you should ponder? Fluttershy.”
- >”That’s gross.”
- >”Earth to Superego, I was making a joke.”
- >”Earth to Id, I knew that.”
- STOP IT!
- >Everyone stares at you.
- >Even the ridiculously good-looking pictures of the four of you.
- Don’t you think there’s something more to life than discussing whether or not to fuck my stalker?
- >Blue_Steel.gif
- I never did like that picture.
- >Ego looks confused. ”Who are you talking to Anon?”
- >Id open-hand punches Ego in the crotch, then quickly jabs him in the forehead.
- >”I meant to do that.”
- >Right. Superego starts speaking.
- >”Look guys, Anon is confused, and you know what would help him get through these troubling times?”
- >Their three voices cry out in manly unison:
- >”ORANGE MOCHA FRAPPUCINOS!”
- >dothejitterbug.mp3
- >There is much manliness in the man-wagon as you and your three hetero-life-partners make their way to the gas station.
- >While your friends are having a gasoline fight, you walk over to a trashcan.
- >An old bastard threw out a paper that had your beautiful face on it.
- >Avoid the used condoms. +10 dexterity.
- >On the cover of the magazine is a clumsily photo-shopped picture of you dicking Yellow Quiet.
- >It reads: Anon. A horsefucker.
- Anon: A horse, fucker.
- >You glance in your pants, a confused look on your face.
- Well, I wouldn’t say “horse”…
- >Look up and see Spike staring at you with the beddiest of bedroom eyes.
- >Did he just hear that?
- >Ohgodnightmares.jpg
- >Turning around, it looks like the guys are done with their gas fight full of non-erotic-subtext.
- >You put on a big smile, and see Id fumbling around in his pockets, then bringing something up to his mouth.
- >Is that a cigarette?
- >Yup.
- >Like the beautiful (no homo) dumbass that he is, he pulls out his lighter.
- ID!
- >A massive explosion of flames, mocha, and homo-erotic subtext launches you back into the black void of your unconscious mind.
- What the hell is wrong with me?
- >I don’t even know man, and I’m the narrator.
- Hey, your voice sounds familiar…
- >No it doesn’t.
- No…I’m pretty sure I’ve heard it before…
- >Listen. Let’s just forget about it and move on wit-
- YOU’RE THE NARRATOR FROM THE POWERPUFF GIRLS!
- >FUCK YOU IT’S TIME TO WAKE UP!
- >SYSTEM REBOOT IN PROGRESS…
- >”A-anon, are you alright?”
- >Dammit. You’re on a sofa in Fluttershy’s cottage.
- >You slowly move your head around, stopping in front of the big, fuzzy, pink&yellow monster in front of you.
- weherermi?
- >”What?”
- werahmy?
- >”I c-can’t understand you An-”
- WHERE AM I?!
- >”eep!” Fluttershy jumps up into the air, crashing into one of the support beams and falling to the floor.
- >In your blurryvision(tm), you can see a white blob shaking its head.
- >You remind yourself to put Angel on your “Do not steal from” list, and watch as Banana Hush pulls herself off the floor.
- >”Well, Dr. Stable transferred you to my cottage because I have better knowledge on how to fix this.”
- I saw you bribe him!
- >”Well, how else would I get to take care of you, my little baby-kins?”
- >Oh god, she just said ‘baby-kins’.
- >Angel has a similar expression of disbelief on his face; you’re liking this rabbit more as time goes on.
- >Ignoring you, Flutterbutt goes upstairs. “Now you stay right there while I go get your medication.”
- Florence Nightingale Syndrome isn’t my fetish!
- >You should try and get out of here man.
- Smart thinking, Brain!
- >*clank*
- >Every limb is chained to the couch…even your penis, for some weird reason.
- AND NEITHER IS STOCKHOLM SYNDROME!
- >Later that evening…
- >You’re not chained to the sofa anymore, but you are now chained to the fridge.
- >Life’s just getting better, huh?
- >”…alright, thank you Doctor Stable.” Silent canary hangs up the phone.
- Oh sure, the ponies are advanced enough to have telephones, but I get sent to a rapist for “medical expertise.”
- >”If loving you means that I’m a rapist, then I guess I’m the biggest rapist of all!” Her pupils turn into hearts as she’s saying this.
- >The innocence of the ponies is enough to drive you insane sometimes.
- >Granted, they do have massive and thriving Red-Light districts, but the terminology is just a little different than Earth’s.
- >”Anyways, the Doctor says that you should be fine in 4-6 weeks…”
- WHAT!?
- >Bug Butt blushes a slight shade of orange, and begins fiddling with her hooves “I accidentally dropped you a couple times on the way over.”
- Dumbass.
- >”But that you shouldn’t attempt to masturbate or have sex before your cast disappears.”
- Well, that makes sen…disappearing cast? Is this a ‘magic’ cast?
- >She nods.
- >”The Doctor said your stitches and cast should disappear when you’re…”
- >She’s biting her lip. Why is she biting her lip?
- >”…Back in working order.”
- >The emphasis she put on “working” sends shivers up your spine.
- >But at least there’s no sponge baths! For 4-6 weeks…
Advertisement
Add Comment
Please, Sign In to add comment
Advertisement