Really Angry Anon - Part 3 (STRONG LANGUAGE WARNING)

>You were fucking lucky you didn't fall off Gilda's back while she was flying. One bump and...PHEWWWW - SPLAT.
>If you weren't still in incredible fucking pain, you'd be kissing the ground right now.
>Now that you've had a chance to steady yourself, you look around. There's not much here except rocks and dead trees scattered about.
"What the fuck are we doing here?" You hiss, trying not to breathe too hard in fear of having your broken ribs puncture your lungs.
>"Helping you, remember?"
"There's nothing fucking here." You point out, grasping at your side.
>"Trust me Anon."
>Not like you have any fucking choice anyway. If Gilda didn't show up when that purple bitch was beating your body to a pulp, you'd probably be dead right now.
>She helps you along and walks you to a large rock.
>"Is this the one?"
"It's a fucking rock, what's the fucking deal?"
>"Shut up for a minute!"
>She knocks on the rock. Weird, it sounds... hollow.
>"Yeah, this is the one."
>Gilda pounds on the rock repeatedly until part of it opens up and... is that a fucking dog?
>"Erh... what you want, bird girl?" He growls.
>The griffon grabs the dog by the throat with her free hand and drags him out of the fake rock.
>"Is Spot in there?" She asks.
>The dog whimpers, "I'll go see, yes?"
>"Be quick about it."
>The guard scampers back into the disguised entryway and closes the exit behind him.
>"Diamond Dogs, good with non-p0nies. Worked for them a while back. You'll fit right in."
>All you want right now is your fucking ribs and shoulder back where they should be.

>A minute later, the rock opens back up. Three dogs jump out, all of them wearing vests.
>What's that in their pockets?
>...
>ARE THOSE FUCKING DIAMONDS?
>"Gilda, we weren't expecting you back so soon." The smallest one says, "I don't see any-" He freezes once he notices you, "What is that?"
>"A friend Spot." Gilda explains, "I need you to fix him up for me."
>"What happened? He get into a fight with a manticore?"
>"No. Can we talk about this later? He's been getting blood all over my feathers on the way here."
>The dog looks you over.
>"Hmm... fine. He can come in. Cold Steel can take a look at him. He looks close enough to a minotaur."
>Gilda is about to help you inside but the other two dogs get in the way.
>What's the fucking problem now?
>"Aren't you forgetting something Gilda?" Spot chuckles.
>He holds out a hand.
>You know what that fucking means: he's not a charity. Smart bastard.
>"Spot, come on! I don't want him dying on me!"
>"You still owe us last week's shipment. How about about business first, then medicine?"
>"I was going to-! Urgh, how about twice what I normally bring you?"
>The dog thinks this over.
>"When?" He asks.
>"As soon as Anon is good to go." She suggests, "He can help me. I know he will."
>Spot grins, "Good enough, let them in boys."
>The two guards get out of the way and let you and Gilda inside. There's a tunnel that keeps going down and down.
>Fuck, on top of everything, now you're starting to feel chilly.

>Gilda leads you to some kind of emergency room. There are a number of other dogs here, all of them on beds with different injuries. A couple don't appear to have anything wrong with them but most have broken bones, judging by all the casts you see.
>You fucking know how that feels.
>"Sprained your wing again?"
>You and Gilda turn around to face the muscular form of... something. In five words, it's a dude with horns. Like if a lonely guy in the country fucked a cow in the milking shed, this is what would pop out nine moths later.
>Fucking sweet nose ring though. It's as if he just took a link from a bike chain and just fucking stuck it in there.
>You're liking this guy already.
>"Cold Steel, finally." Gilda says, sounding relieved, "I need your help."
>"When don't you need my help?" The man-cow thing says back, "I'm guessing it has something to do with your friend there."
>"Please Cold Steel, he's hurt real bad."
>The dude comes round and crouches down so he can get a closer look at you. Using one of his thick fingers, he pokes you in your side.
"GAH FUCK!"
>"Oh yeah, that'll need fixing. Where'd you find him? He looks like he went one too many rounds in the pit with my cousin."
>"He found me. One moment we're just chatting about stuff, the next those six p0nies that report to Celestia came and beat him up."
>"Really? It's not like them to get violent for no reason."
>You try and laugh but it comes out more like a hiss.
>"It... er... might have something to do with him burning down on of their buildings."
>Cold Steel chuckles, "That'd just about do it I think."

>"You'd better get him to lie down. I can't do a full examination with him standing up and bleeding all over my floor."
>"I owe you big time for this Steel."
>"Yeah yeah, how many times have I heard that before? Put him over there while I get my equipment."
>He points to a vacant bed between two others occupied by a pair of dogs, one with a broken arm and the other with a broken leg.
>"Sure."
>The bull-man goes off into a private section of the infirmary. Meanwhile, using a wing, Gilda guides you towards the empty bed.
>"Come on Anon, you need to lie down."
>You start to climb onto the bed but something inside you suddenly feels like it's on fire.
>"What's wrong?"
"Argh! Fuck! I think something started leaking!" You moan.
>"Suck it up Anon! You're sounding like a sheep right now and believe me, that's not something to be proud of."
"Fuck you Gilda. You'd be fucking complaining too if that purple bitch did to you what she did to me. Fuck, I swear if I ever see her again..."
>"Trust me Anon, you will. Sooner than you think. Steel, where are you?"
>"Settle down Gilda, I'm coming!"
>Cold Steel comes back with... a fucking tool box by the look of it. Even though you can hardly see straight, you're happy to see syringes and bandages inside it instead of screwdrivers and hammers.
>"I'm going to give you something for the pain, alright?"
>A while back, you tried morphine just to see what it was like.
>Keeping it short, it was fucking bliss.
"Why are you asking? Fucking stick it in me!"
>"You're the boss."
>Barely any time passes before your head is in the clouds.

>Your doctor inspects every inch of your body before stroking his chin thoughtfully.
>"Hmm, this is going to be a little difficult."
>Even in your drug induced stupor, those aren't the words you want to fucking hear.
>If you were more lucid, you would be expressing your displeasure vocally while using the word 'fuck' as much as possible.
>"Come on Steel, tell me you can put everything back where it should be."
>"Of course I can Gilda, who do you think you're talking to?" He says, sounding a little offended.
>"That's not what I meant. How quickly can you patch him up?"
>"Getting the splints and casts in place won't take any time, but you can't rush proper healing Gilda. It's not as if I can snap my fingers and instantly he'll be back to his normal self. I'm not a unicorn and can whip up a healing spell like that." He says, snapping his fingers.
>"I know. Can you give me a rough guess though?"
>"Why the big hurry? Do you need to be somewhere?"
>"Well..."
>"Ah, you haven't provided Spot with a new batch yet, have you?"
>"No and I promised him twice the usual amount to make up for the delay."
>"Let me guess: your new friend is going to assist you?"
>"Yeah and if he doesn't, Spot will probably put him on the front lines for causing me trouble."
>What the fuck does she mean by that?
>"I see. Well I'd better get to work then, shouldn't I?"
>He reaches into his bag and pulls out some thick wooden sticks.
>He looks into your eyes and smirks, "This is going to hurt a lot, understand?"
>You fucking wish you didn't.

>You wake up.
>You look around for a clock but can't see one.
>Might as well get up.
>You lean forwards.
>...
>SO. MUCH. FUCKING. PAIN.
>You remember the cow-man giving you more of the painkillers halfway through him snapping your bones back in place. You might be dosed up to your eyeballs but you still feel like an overused punching bag.
>If it's this fucking bad with the drugs, you fucking hate to imagine what it'd feel like without them.
>You can hardly move either. Once Cold Steel put all the splints in place, he wrapped you up tighter than a nun's snatch.
>On top of that, your arms and legs are hanging from slings.
>How the fuck are you supposed to take a shit like this?
>How the fuck are you supposed to fap like this?
>Fuck, the last thing you want is one of those dogs taking advantage of you like this.
>Hang on a second... that purple bitch of a unicorn didn't break either of your legs. Why did Cold Steel bandage them up?
>...
>FUCK!
>Not here, not like this. If you're going to get a dick in the arse, it's going to be you unconscious in an alley outside a nightclub after drinking too many shots, with the guarantee that you remember a thing the next morning, the only evidence of any unwanted advances being a sore hole and scuffed knees.
>You try and free yourself but all you accomplish is managing to make yourself feel even worse.
"Son of a bitch!" You yell as your left arm falls out of its sling, hitting the solid frame of the bed.

>Gilda comes over and gently puts your arm back in the sling.
>"Watch it Anon! You've got to be careful. You don't want to hurt yourself even more, do you?"
>She's right, that'd make it easier for Cold Steel to have his way with you.
>You stop struggling and relax.
"Damn it. Fuck my life, just fuck everything." You groan.
>"How are you feeling Anon?" The griffon asks.
"How do you fucking think?" You snap, "When can we get the fuck out of here? Being strung up like a turkey is fucking annoying."
>Gilda looks uncertainly at you.
>You know that face, it's always bad news.
"What's wrong? You look like you're going to tell me I've got dick cancer." You say anxiously.
>"You can't leave, not yet."
"What? Why the fuck not?"
>"I had to make a deal so I could get you in and have Cold Steel treat you."
>That's not good.
"What the fuck did you say? A deal? What the fuck did you do? Did you sign me away to be some bitch's fucktoy for the next five years?"
>"Of course not! It's just..."
"Just what?"
>"You need to help me, with some work I was supposed to do before we met."
>Oh, well that's not too bad.
>Fucking still...
"Work? Gilda, this dude doesn't fucking work!"
>"Well you're going to have to, otherwise Spot and his gang will put you back to how you were before you got here."
>Fucked if you do, fucked if you don't in other words.

"So what's the plan then?" You ask, "Moving paper around and other office stuff? Washing and cleaning? Or are we going to be roasting our arses off in the kitchen making lunch and dinner for everyone?"
>"You and me are going to get some more labour for Spot's gem mine." She replies.
"What? Human fucking resources?"
>The griffon looks at you puzzled, "What's a human?"
>Right, you never got around to explaining that to her, did you?
"I'm a human, shit-for-brains. Human resources are a group within a company that go around looking to fill jobs that need filling. You're telling me the two of us are going to go around fucking employing people?"
>"Looking, yes. Hiring, not so much, unless you count kidnapping, threats of violence and slavery."
>Okay, this just took a fucking weird turn. You're not liking how Gilda just listed those things off as if she puts them at the top of her CV.
>Come to think of it, maybe she does. Those diamonds that dog guy had spilling out of his jacket pocket would be enough to make anyone do anything.
"So what are we going to be doing then?"
>"Spot's mine is huge. I don't exactly know how big but it's massive enough that they don't have enough dogs to do everything."
"And that ties in with what we're going to do how?"
>"To put it simply: what Spot doesn't or can't have, he takes."
>Someone you don't want to fuck around with, in other words.

"So let me see if I've got this straight." You begin, "Spot doesn't have enough mooks working for him. Right?"
>"Right."
"So he needs more mooks so that his operation is rulling at full tilt."
>"That's it."
"Cool. So, to get this mine to top speed, we're going to get those mooks?"
>"You got it."
"That brings me on to my next point. How the fuck are we supposed to do that? Put a job listing in the fucking Classifieds?"
>The griffon chuckles, "I already told you Anon: kidnapping, threats of violence and slavery."
>Ah, that again.
"And you fucking think I'm going to go along with this, why? I may be a bit of a bastard but there are some things even I wouldn't do."
>"Because p0nies are great for hauling wagons full of rocks and gems around the mine, and they listen fast enough once they get a lash or two from a whip. Most of the workers here aren't even dogs. They just take who they need, chain them up, tell them what to do and beat them if they get out of line. You do this with me and Spot might even pay you for your help. If you don't, then... well knowing him, he'll probably break a few extra things on top of undoing everything Cold Steel did for you."
>You lie there, going over everything Gilda just said.
>"So what'll it be Anon?"
>You give her a wide grin.
"You had me at 'p0nies'. I'm fucking in, no doubt."
>"Really? This means a lot, thanks Anon!"
"One condtion though."
>"What?"
"Can you scratch my arse? I've got a bitch of an itch down there."
>"You sure?"
>Nodding, you motion at her to get on with it.
>She brings up a hand, flashing her razor sharp talons at you.
>"Roll over then."
>You gulp as you position your rear end for her to get easy access to.