[Classic FR] 666 celebration

So I was checking my pastebin last night and happened to refresh to see that my paste hits were at 16,660. Needing an excuse to try to get my beak wet with writing again, I decided to write a story in celebration of the middle three numbers.

>Dia del Diablo en Equestria.
>Wake up.
>The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and your mattress smells of stale farts.
>Everything is the way it should be.
>Hop out of bed and head to the bathroom.
>Shit. Shave. Shower.
>Shit again, just for good measure.
>You want your colon pristine for breakfast.
>Otherwise it’d just be rude to your stomach’s new residents.
>But enough about weird anthropomorphic food and vorish fantasies…
>Head downstairs to the kitchen to rustle up some grub.
>Feel a massive rumbling of the earth beneath your feet.
“Woah. Does Equestria get earthquakes?”
>However, it settles nearly as soon as it begins.
“Hmm… Guess I’ll ask Twilight or Rainbow after breakfast.”
>Reach into your cupboard for your box of Mini-Mauds; ‘They rock. They’re rocks.’
>Start to pour the cocoa pebbles into your bowl when another tremor rattles everything in your kitchen.
>The natural light from outside dims and you hear the sound of thunder encroaching.
>Okay. Maybe it’s time to check this shit out.
>Head to the front door.
>As soon as you turn the knob, the door rockets off of its hinges and is sent tumbling down into a reddish-brown vortex that seems to have formed on your front lawn.
>Your senses are met with a cavalcade of stimuli as you take in the sight.
>The ground has ceased to exist in lieu of the red abyss and the sky’s tint has changed to match it in color.
>And a thunderstorm has rolled in, lightning angrily laying waste to the immediate vicinity.
>And yet.
>Everything else looks perfectly fine.
>In fact, you can see one of Ponyville’s cows grazing idly at the precipice of chaos.
>She notices you noticing her and waves lazily.
>You awkwardly wave back, gesturing to the storm with shoulders raised.
>She simply shrugs and goes back to munching grass.
>Before you can formulate a coherent thought about what to do with the vortex, there’s a knock at your doo-
>Well, not your door, obviously, but there’s a knock nearby.
>Turning to it, you see Fluttershy, dressed up in a Halloween-style devil costume.
>Horns jut out from a headband atop her head.
>She has a second, red devil tail tangled up in her regular pink one.
>And she’s even wielding a small plastic pitchfork.
>She’d look adorable if she wasn’t busy ruining your life.
“Fluttershy, what the hell did you do to my lawn?”
>”Oh, well, umm… I met this nice stallion the other day that, well, he seemed so nice and he asked, me about my day, and, well, umm…”
>You hadn’t noticed before but, from the corner of your eye, you see the vortex widening ever so slowly.
>From across the abyss, you hear the cow’s bell jingle as she slowly out-walks the growing edge, still grazing.
“Chop chop, Shy. I don’t have all day for this story.”
>She reels back slightly and blinks. “Oh, right. Of course. Well, I told the stallion about our love-“
“Your love.”
>You correct, as you start making your way around the front of your house, trying to avoid being consumed by the widening hole.
>”And how you’re always so reluctant. And he said that he could help us, if I made a deal with him.”
>Clinging to the siding of your house, you lock eyes with Devil-Shy.
“A deal? Fluttershy, what did this stallion look like?”
>She ponders for a moment.
>”Well, he was awfully red. Sort of like Big Mac. And-“
“His cutie mark! What was his cutie mark?”
>”Oh… umm… It was three sixes in a row. I remember wondering if he was just really bad at slots or something.”
“Fluttershy! You made a deal with the pony devil!? What were the conditions?”
>She flutters over to you and kisses your forehead. “He said that he could help us be together forever.”
“And what does he get?”
>”Oh nothing, really. He just wanted the life force of something called Flutterrape.”
>The vortex expands and a column of writhing green chevron spirits is sucked down into the gaping maw of the abyss.
>They all moan in agony, shouting “Bump” and “Nudge” and “No really guys, I’m writing, I swear.”
>Their cries are immediately silenced when the void swallows them, disappearing into the ether afterward.
>You climb down from the wall of your house and stare silently at where the vortex just raged.
>Wordlessly, you raise your hand to your head in a salute.
>You don’t know who’s souls those were, but you feel a great bond with them.
>You hope that their torment is bearable.
>A single tear rolls down your cheek.
>”So is eternal damnation your fetish, Anon?”
>…
>Fucking Fluttershy.