Pony Peace Day 4

>Despite your intrusion into the... Scenario at hand, Spike and Rarity were awfully good sports.
>You remain unscathed. You expected at least some sort of telekentic slam.
>as a matter of fact, Rarity seemed to be rather relieved to her exposure
>So relieved in fact she stripped out of the clothing and had spike finish off the tube on her.
>whatever floats your boat, lady.
>But you need Spike for the plan to work.  Upon hearing it, she squealed something about the idea being glamourous and wanted to help.
>You descend the staircase carefully, to a machine gun of Twilight saying "I'm sorry!"
>Collateral damage everywhere.  Cupcakes imprinted on the walls, cakes oozing off the ceiling.
>You notice a pristine donut, frosting side up and sprinkles unrustled, has found itself a home around Twilight's horn.
>You whisper to Spike and Rarity.
"Leave it, it'll be funny."
>You collect your companions and venture forth out of the shop.
>You begin to make your way throughout the town, strolling toward Twilights tree.
>You let Rarity and Spike in on the plan: compress and mail this wonderful gray haze to Celestia herself.
>You run it over in your head, the scene playing in slow motion..
>"Dear Princess Celestia."
>A bomb made of pure, compressed reefer smoke detonates with enough force and weight to pour out of the tower like fog from dry ice.
>Do not run, little ponies. Embrace your hungry fate.
>Wait, would that mean spike would have to... burn smoke?
>How the fuck would this work again?

>Rarity's frosting begins to dry a little, but remains as a coating that makes her glisten.
>She looks like a frosted marshmallow.
>Holy shit, she looks delicious.
>Other ponies are taking note of this sparkley new change.
>She's taking notice of the noticing.  And flaunting it.
>She starts to sing a little, under her breath. "My flankshake brings all the colts to the barn."
>Between chortlesnorts, your group vainly trying to keep it to themselves, there is a gentle clap during the home stretch to Twilight's home base.
>It's then you realize it's Banana Strawberry. AKA, when not stoned, Fluttershy.
>Her yellow-pink form is marred with small char marks and greasy soot.
>Her hair is frazzled.  Her tail is still smoldering.
Heeeeeeeeey Fluttershy.
>She remains silent.  Rarity drips.
>She trots up to you in a steady, purposeful bounce. She stops dead, looking up at you, and tilting her head. Her expression is flat and emotionless.
>You do not yield an inch.
>"You burnt my field."
>Your eyes go between Donutlight and Banana Strawberry a few times.
>Twilight takes two steps back, as if she knows something you aren't aware of.
I'm... Sorry?
>She turns around a moment, stepping out of your personal bubble.
>You remain stalwart.
>Your testicles, however, cringe under the weight of her rear hooves.

>at first, your reaction is that of amazement.
>holy goddamn. That was an accurate hit. Her hooves were small enough to both fit between your legs and found their mark.
>The combined force isn't enough to knock you over, but there is a loud thump.
>The realization hits the others, with Spike the only one cringing from the scene.
>Banana Strawberry has time to regain her footing and turn around.
>It's then it sets in. Like some kind of ancient ninja pony maneuver, the pain arrives at your brain seconds later.
>After the blackness clears, you realize you were temporarily foaming at the mouth.
>Banana Strawberry is atop you now.  She's heavier than she looks.
>She has the sweetest, most adorable smile on her face.
>"You know. I've never had to bury anyp0ny but my old pets under the cottage trees."
>You look around, for any kind of aid. You are paralyzed in an odd mixture of being stoned, and pain.
>Spike is hiding behind Rarity, whom is frozen in shock. Do you even give a fuck, Ms. Glaze?
>Donutlight is actually doing something, though. rather, trying.
>Unfortunately, the donut is glowing. Not her horn.
>apparently, the delicious ring is absorbing the spells she's trying to cast.
>Damned by dessert. Whom would have known?
>Banana Strawberry starts to "knead bread," akin to a cat on a blanket.
>Only she's several dozen pounds more heavy and has hooves. And it's your ribs.
>as you fade into unconsciousness once again, she chomps down on the hood and begins to flutter away with you, dragging your lifeless body along with her.