Thirty Minute Pony Stories

Fluttershy awoke slowly and reluctantly to the sonorous drone of post-midnight crickets, the sight of moonlit clouds wafting lazily across Luna’s masterwork sky, and the distinctly squishy feeling of a wet carrot in her ear.

“EEP!” she cried as she leapt with Rainbow Dash-like speed into the space above her couch. “Oh, Angel Bunny, that wasn’t nice. Mommy was having the best dream about Spitf…”

The rest of her barely audible reply was drowned out by the rapid tapping of what she decided was a rather unlucky rabbit’s foot. The snowy-furred demon bunny pointed impatiently at a cuckoo clock which presently belted out four tiny, tinkling chirps.

“Oh gosh darn it, I overslept!” The pink-maned pegasus began frantically depositing odds and ends into a small butterfly-adorned saddlebag. She paused and sheepishly mumbled “Um, sorry about my potty mouth. Is it, um, okay if I apologize now?”

The violently hurled end of a half-chewed carrot booped her in the nose.

“You’re right, we’re late already. Let’s get going, sweetie.”

She held the flap of the saddlebag open and in hopped her diminutive companion. Together they tiptoed out the front door of the rustic cottage and flew off into the night.

Fluttershy winged her way across the comfortable local woods, their pleasant piney scents lending an almost wintery feel to the flight despite the warm springtime nightbreeze.  As they glided steadily closer to the darkened haunts of the dreaded Everfree forest, Angel began rummaging around in his saddlebag sidecar. He produced a small cudgel  and looked at his pilot expectantly.

“Um, thank you sweetie, but that’s for Fridays. Today is Thursday, remember?” She smiled and checked their course , now descending below the canopy of the Everfree’s twisted treetops. She felt her copilot squirming in his bag again, and momentarily he produced a roll of twine and a small ball of what looked like a paper-wrapped candy apple. “That’s the one, honey! Mommy thinks you know what to do with it.”

Angel was too happy to prove her correct. Now sporting Wonderbolts-esque goggles, he quickly tied the string to the stick protruding from the covered ball. He began to remove the wrapper when his companion whispered, “Not yet. We’re almost there. Wait for my signal, okay, sweetiekins?”

The bunny nodded. A deep, bone-trembling rumble came from directly ahead, through a thicket of trees no light penetrated. Fluttershy and Angel assumed grim-faced, lockjawed expressions as the yellow pony silently darted between the treetrunks. Seconds later the rumble’s owner showed itself. A tree-long neck snaked up above the thicket, sporting a head triangular, horned, fanged, and roaring with a bellow that shook the very roots. Fluttershy dove, putting a thick stand of trees between her and the beast. With a mighty roar a second horror-headed neck appeared above the treetops, then a third.

“Oh, good morning Mister Hydra!” said the pegasus, weaving and darting as three hungry, fanged mouths sought to make breakfast of the little pony. “We can’t have you heading that way, can we? Ponyille is that way. No, you naughty little fellow, let’s see if we can lead you, um, maybe the other way?” She let out a tiny squeak as a massive jaw snapped shut behind her, a few pink tail-hairs trailing from its foul jaw. With volume she was rarely know to use, she shouted “Now, Angel!”

Angel tore the wrapper from the ball he held and dropped it overboard, trailing it behind Fluttershy as she created the treetops. A miasmic vapor trailed behind the ball, smelling of rotten meat, congealed blood, and things long dead and best not contemplated. The hydra’s heads all took a whiff at once and turned with lusty hunger toward the ball. The great beast tore a path through  the forest, leaving splintered trees in its wake as it chased the fleeing pegasus, snapping its triple jaws in vain as she kept the stinkball bouncing just out of its reach.

Minutes later they were at the edge of the Everfree, a stony slope descending before them  into a blackened swamp. Angel cut the string, sending the stenchbomb rolling down the hill, a great hydra madly chasing it as if it were a demented chaos-god’s idea of a puppy retrieving a chew toy. Fluttershy hovered for a moment, panting heavily, and gave Angel a pat on his long-eared head. “Good work, Angelkins! Now let’s go home and wash off the lure scent. Mommy doesn’t like smelling like artificial meat any longer than she has to.”

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BSB Comments:

This was really fun and I enjoyed it a great deal! I enjoyed the portion that seemed to hint at Fluttershy doing this sort of thing every day of the week (or at least most days) and that the two of them are really adept at it. This was a nice way to take the prompt. Very good work!