Revenge

>Be the hoolagin.
>You got ripped off by a big department store on the corner of division and 6th.
>You're going to prank them so fucking hard.
>You wait for nightfall to pile into your shitty civic.
>You've gathered a big cardboard box lined with a plastic garbage bag and a 5 gallon bucket with a lid.
>you filled the bucket with water and white PVA glue that you bought in bulk.
>It's basically the exact mixture you'd use to do paper mache.
>Fuck yeah art class, you best subject.
>You drive down to division street.
>There's pretty much nobody on the road, so you drive slow so you can keep a lookout for your secret ingredient.
>You spy a herd trying to cross the road right in front of you.
>Fortunately for them, you find a parking space before having to run them over.
>You hop out and walk over, box in tow
>The leader waddles over looking pissed but you grab him by the neck and throw him in the box before he can even start speaking.
>"Wet smawty out of bawks!" it barks
>The others have gathered around you, confused, babbling and scared.
>You're standing in a parking space. The stupid things are too busy looking at you and the box to finish crossing the road, so the herd stretches to about halfway across the road.
>You start picking up the nearest ones and putting them in the box.
>They scream and they defacate, but it all falls on deaf ears.
>You try to get as many foals as you can, their higher fluff to mass ratio helps


>The fluffy ponies are pissed at you taking their foals, so the braver ones have begun to assault your legs.
>The box is almost full
>As you pick up the last fluffy pony you need, a car plows through the assembled herd, lightly splattering you and the herd with blood, viscera, and bits of fetus.
>The car took out most of the dams and their attendants, who were taking up the rear.
>Gross.
>As they stare dumbstruck at the bloody streak and broken bodies, you make good your escape
>The ones in the box have no idea what's going on, but they're screaming because the head of a fluffy fetus landed in the box.
>The decimated remains of the herd have begun wailing in sorrow at their loss. Many collapse, unable to remain standing under the weight of their sorrows.
>You chuckle a bit on the way to the car. You're a little pissed at the asshole driver for splattering you with bits of fluffy pony, but you have to admit it was pretty funny.
>You put the lid on the cardboard box and drive off past the stricken herd to your destination.


>You park about a block from your destination
>You take the box and bucket out and move them to the storefront.
>You reach into the box and pull out a fluffy foal.
>"Whew momma? wan huggies!" it [spoilers]mewls[/spoilers]
>It smells awful.
>"Here, let me give you a bath, little guy"
>"no wan' baf! it cries"
>Too bad.
>you hold it by the neck and dunk it's body into the PVA solution, careful to keep it's face above water. It begins sobbing.
>It's fluff mats down instantly from the water, transforming it into easily the most pathetic thing you've ever seen.
>It's a good thing this is LA or it'd be dying of hypothermia right now.
>Betwen sobs, it cries out "nuuu wan' wawa! nuu wan baf!"
>The excess has dripped off the foal. Perfect.
>You hurl it overhand at the building's facade. It smacks into the wall about 20 feet up with a wet *SPLAT* punctuated with a tiny crunch.
>It sticks to the building like a mass of wet toilet paper thrown at the cieling of a school bathroom.
>It is screaming incoherently in pain, the impact broke a number of it's bones.
>That's how you know you made a good throw. Any less and it might not stick.


>You then reach into the box and pull out a unicorn. It's mad as hell and it ain't going to take it anymore.
>It puffs out it's cheeks and starts spraying sparks from it's horn while still in your grasp.
>"Meanie munsta no huwt foaws, Fwuffies gif biggest owies!"
>You dunk it into the PVA, which immediately gets his attention.
>Something goes off in his brain, and he realizes what's going to happen next. All the shit, piss, and courage the thing has are forcibly expelled at once.
>"nuuu pwease no fwow smawty! Fwuffies be good! No huwty!"
>heh.
>You toss it at the building, and land it about 15 feet over the door.
>SPLATCRUNCH
>The screams of the smarty and the foal are almost an octave apart, and they're sort of harmonizing.
>You almost hate to ruin the moment, but you're on a mission here.
>Fifteen minutes later you have no more fluffy ponies and the bucket is nearly empty.
>All but two of the fluffy ponies stuck the landing, so to speak, and are screaming and crying at unreachable heights along the side of the building.
>The first foal you threw struggles to turn it's tear-streaked face to look at you as it weakly cries "fwuffy huwties... why? why huwties?.."
>Perfect.
>You pick up the buck and leave the shit-filled box, and head home.


>Be the store employee
>Some asshole stuck a bunch of badly wounded fluffy ponies to your store somehow
>They won't stop fucking screaming and crying.
>They keep shitting and pissing, and the filth runs down the side of the building in rivulets
>They're annoying the hell out of you, and they're driving off customers.
>You suppose theyr'e not all bad, then. You hate customers.
>Your manager wants you to take care of it though.
>You tried knocking them down with the longest broom you could find, but you could only reach one.
>It fell to the ground and splattered, it's guts burst from it's sides.
>It's fur was all stiff, like someone gelled it.
>Now the seagulls have it's corpse.
>You wish they'd pull the live ones down from the facade.
>One shits, and almost hits you.
>You fucking hate mondays.