A collection of prison/Kinderquestria-themed shorts I've written in the thread. Enjoy.

>Day Colored Pencils in Kinderquestria
>You are the resident big green human bean, and you have just been bequeathed another drawing from a local resident.
>"Here, Anon! Thanks for helping us clean up the other day!"
>You smile down at the crayon-crafted image of you, your friend Sunny Smile, and various other ponies gathered to clean up the park after a day of horsing around.
>Heh heh. Horsing around.
"Thanks, Sunny. It's even better than the last one!"
>"I've gotten a lot of practice in, big guy! You're always being so helpful all the time."
"You don't have to make one for me every time, if it's a bother. I just help you guys because I want to."
>Sunny gives you a big, happy grin
>"Yeah, well, I draw you because I want to, so there!"
>A brief, fiery pain in your chest informs you that you are one step closer to dying from heart disease.
>Damn these cute ponies.
>What he said gets you thinking, as you head back to your house for the day.
>He draws you and your other little friends all the time, but you've never done the same for him.
>Let's fix that.
>You get back to your place and immediately set to work, gathering all the arts and crafts materials you've been gifted with during your stay.
>In particular your gigantic box of colored pencils, and a few normal ones besides.
>You lay down a sketch first.
>…
>Hmm, no, Sunny's face is more like...
>…
>There, that's better.
>And then Cirrus, and Wall Flower, and...
>...
>There!
>After a good couple hours, you're finally satisfied with the lines.
>After selecting just the right shade of yellow for Sunny's coat, you begin coloring in.
>Then his mane...
>Eyes...
>Give a bit of shading here with a regular pencil, just to be fancy...
>Lookin' nice!
>You repeat the slow and laborious process for each of your four-legged amigos pictured, and the end result has you beaming in spite of the cramps in your hands.
>You really went all-in on this, you're sure Sunny will like it.
>But why stop? You've got all this craft stuff anyway.
>You fill in the sky and background before decorating a simple wooden picture frame with macaroni noodles and gold paint.
>You REAL fancy now, boy.
>The hour is late before you know it.
>You magnetize Sunny's gift to you onto your fridge with its brethren, and you set your gift for him by the door so you won't forget it in the morning.
>Nine hours of sleep and a morning routine later, you are out the door with your masterpiece tucked under your arm.
>You can't wait until he sees it, you bet he'll flip out!
>Smiling at the thought, you jog down the path into town.
>You find your friends hanging around by the fountain.
>"Good morning, Anon!"
"Good morning, Sunny. Check this out!"
>You present your piece de resistance.
>Sunny's jaw hangs open.
>"What... Wait... Is that me? And everypony else?"
"Yeah! I made it for you. Do you like it?"
>"You MADE this?!"
>Sunny takes it in his trembling hooves, just staring for a little bit.
>He starts tearing up.
>You start getting a little weirded out.
"Uh... Sunny, you alright?"
>"I... This... It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen..."
"You look like you need to lie down, man."
>"No! I need to put this where it belongs!!"
>Sunny zooms off on his little pegasus wings.
>You see neither hide nor hair of him for almost a week afterwards, only to discover that he basically converted his house into an art gallery holding a single painting.
>Overpriced drinks and everything.
>You're ushered inside one day, Sunny bursting at the seams with suppressed excitement as he shouts
>"Ta-dah!!"
>…
>It's your painting, macaroni frame and all, hanging behind a glass case with a plaque.
>The plaque reads:
Friends
By my best friend, Anonimuss the Hyooman
>You clutch your chest.
>And that's how you became a famous artist in Kinderquestria.

-*-

>Be Anon in Kinderquestria
>Fighting has broken out between ponies and changelings.
>By fighting, you mean pillow-throwing and name-calling.
>It all started when ponies found out that changelings eat peanut butter crackers instead of pudding.
>The ponies tried to convince them they were eating an inferior snack.
>Chrysalis didn’t like that one bit.
>One open letter declaring all ponies to be “chubby nerds” later and here you are...
>Out in the badlands, attempting to calm things down before someone trips and hurts themselves.
>It’s a maelstrom of flying pillows, wrestling equines, and vaguely rude “your mom” jokes, but you navigate it easily, making your way to the big circle where a bunch of ponies and changelings sat down to watch their leaders duke it out.
>You’ve gotten a little too used to stuff like this.
>The sight of Chrysalis and Celestia using magic to pull each other’s faces into a funny expression gets a brief snicker out of you, but it’s time to try and bring this nonsense to a close.
>It’s almost dinner time.
“Alright, you two, enough. It’s getting late.”
>They both turn to look at you, faces still contorted by the other’s magic.
>”I won’t give up, Anon! Not until she admits she’s wrong!”
>”Anonymous, you tell her! Tell her she’s fat and that peanut butter crackers are way better for you!”
>Yeah, this isn’t going anywhere. Time for emergency measures.
>You walk up and use your secret technique.
>Ear scritchies.
>They know what you’re doing. They try to fight it.
>Celestia does her best to keep her face stoic, and Chrysalis scowls through the blush, but their magic fades as their concentration weakens.
“You both went overboard. Celestia, you don’t get to force others to eat a snack just because you really like it. She’s entitled to eat crackers if she wants. Chrysalis, you know she’s sensitive about her weight. It’s cool that you think about keeping your subjects healthy, but no bullying.”
>Celestia heaves a sigh, face softening, but Chrysalis, to your utter shock, actually manages to break contact with your hand.
>”N-No, I’m not falling for this again! You always do THAT to me, and then I forget what I was mad about and go home, but not this time!”
>She points an accusing bug hoof at Celestia
>”And how come you always stay in Equestria?! You should come visit me, too!”
>...Well, that’s actually a good point. You can’t really mediate effectively if you’re only ever hanging out with one group.
“That’s fair. I’ll come stay with you for a while.”
>Chrysalis immediately brightens.
>”Really?”
>”Oh no you don’t!”
>Celestia wraps a wing around you and points a gold-clad hoof at your surroundings.
>”He doesn’t visit you because you live in a barren wasteland you silly changeling! What would he eat? Where would he sleep?”
>”No one was talking to you, fatty! And he’d eat crackers with us! A-and sleep in my-“
>”Not on my watch! Equestria’s mediator, living off lesser snacks?!”
>”YOUR MOM’S A LESSER SNACK!”
>A massive chorus of “OOOOOHHHHH” sounds in the background as the changelings cheer their queen on, and Celestia’s cheeks puff.
>Before she can retaliate, you run a hand up and down her neck.
“Hey. Come on. You’re bigger than that. Let’s try and handle this productively.”
>She huffs, but a few more rubs settle her down.
“Chrysalis, I’ll come stay with you, but only if you call all this off right now. Okay? I’ll pack my stuff tonight and come over tomorrow.”
>The changeling queen claps her front hooves.
>”Deal! I win, sunny snoot!”
>Laughing with delight, she flies off, and all the changelings follow her home.
>Only when they’re all safely out of earshot does Celestia turn to you, teary-eyed.
>”A-Anon, you aren’t going forever, are you? I- I’ll stop eating pudding for a week if-“
>Secret technique: chin scratchies.
>Celestia groans quietly.

-*-

>Be Warden Anon
>You’re headed to bed after a long day of keeping rowdy pony prisoners in line.
>You’re in your pajamas and about to belly flop onto your cloud mattress when you realize that there’s a lump beneath the covers.
>Only one guard brave enough to do that.
“Cookies?”
>The lump shifts.
“Cookies, I know it’s you. What are you doing in my bed?”
>”U-uh, I just, uh, there’s no pony named Cookies here!”
“Cool. So who’s the pony that IS there?”
>”...Shoot.”
>You pull back the blankets to reveal your head guard, with no hair tie in her mane and wearing cute little cookie-patterned pajamas.
>You burn the image into your brain.
>”I... I had a bad dream, Anon. It was really scary. Can’t I stay here?”
>You sigh.
>You’re already painfully aware of your inability to say “no” when she sulks like that, so you just accept the inevitable.
“Yeah, you can stay. Scoot over a little.”
>She smiles happily and rolls over, leaving you enough space to lay down.
>Your head flops back onto the pillow, and Cookies rests her head on your upper arm.
>It’s pinned in place, but you can still move just enough at the elbow to rub her back.
>She sighs in content, and you pull the blankets back over you both.
>Cookies’ nose just barely pokes out from beneath.
“So?”
>”Hm?”
“What was the dream about?”
>”...Do I have to say?”
“No. But it might not seem so scary after you talk to someone else. A lot of scary dreams are only scary when you’re in them, you know?”
>”Yeah, but... Do you promise you won’t laugh?”
>You give her a little squeeze with your arm.
“I’d never. I promise.”
>”Do you remember how I got my cutie mark?”
“Yeah. You worked in an old folk’s home, and tried to make some cookies for them. They came out burnt, but they liked them because they became really soft when they dipped them in milk. It was perfect for all the old fogies with dentures.”
>”Don’t call them fogies, they were nice! But yeah. That’s what happened.”
>She’s silent for a moment.
>”I was back in that moment. But it didn’t go like that. I... nobody like my cookies. Nobody laughed, or smiled, or...”
>She shudders.
>”It hurt so bad, Anon. I felt so empty, like... like nopony wanted me.”
“Aw, Cookies. That’s not true.”
>”I know, but... it felt so real! I was crying when I woke up, and I just... I had to come see you.”
>You gently turn on your side to face her, pulling the blankets back a little.
>Her face looks up at you with an unasked question, and you answer by rolling her over too.
>Wrapping one arm around her barrel, the other goes under your pillow.
>Spooning your head guard would catch you jail time if anybody found out, but you know she won’t complain.
>You give her tummy a rub as you speak.
“Everything’s alright now. You’re back here, with me. There’s not a single person in this prison who doesn’t like you, Cookies ‘n Cream. You know that, right?”
>You see the tips of her ears turn red.
>You keep speaking.
“Not all of them will say it. All the prisoners need to look tough. All the guards like to pretend to be even tougher. But I see it. You’re a good pony who always does her best. Nobody could hate that.”
>She still doesn’t respond, but you feel two little hooves grip your forearm.
“Just a bad dream, that’s all. Let’s try and get some sleep now.”
>”O-Okay... But, one last thing.”
“Mm?”
>”When... when you say everyone here likes me, that means... that means you too, right?”
“Well, yeah. Of course.”
>”But... but like... in what way?”
>Ahhhh.
>There it is.
>You laugh softly.
“Tell you tomorrow.”
>”Awwww!”
“Nooooope. Don’t even pout. My eyes aren’t open, it won’t work.”
>”...Fine.”
>Silence falls.
>She fidgets. After another breath, she pulls your arm, turning your hand and putting her hoof in it.
>You squeeze softly.

-*-

"Your Honor, I stand by my statement that I can wear socks if I want to, and that the plaintiff is the one who's lewd because she deliberately looked under my pants."
>You stare defiantly at the judge with arms crossed.
>You'll win this. There's no way in hell you're going to jail for something as dumb as wearing socks.
>"Objection! My client only looked to make sure that he was really wearing socks-"
"Objection to your objection, if she didn't want to see she didn't have to look."
>"You can't do that!"
"Just did."
>"Yeah, well, I object to your objection of my objection!"
"OBJECTION TO HIS OBJECTION OF MY OBJECTION TO HIS OBJECTION!"
>"I OBJECT TO MY OBJECTION! Uh, wait, no-!"
"HA!"
>"ORDER! I WILL HAVE ORDER IN THIS COURT!"
>The judge pounds on her podium with her squeaky gavel.
>"Mr. Anonymous the Human, your logic is sound but wearing socks in public is still lewd."
"Ridiculous. With all due respect, Your Honor, it's my business what I wear under my pants and nobody else's. If the plaintiff will drop charges I'm willing to just walk away from this case. However, if she continues to insist on sending me to jail for exercising my right to dress myself as I please then I will insist on sending her to prison for being a lewd pony."
>The gallery gasps, and a pony in the jury faints.
>Your opposition sputters.
>"T-That's outrageous! You can't just-!"
"I mean what I say!"
>Your sharp retort cuts through his response, and you keep speaking over him.
"Why in the world would I change my behavior for others' sensibilities? I'm not the one who thinks socks are sexy. You guys are! If anything, it's the weakness of pony psyches that has wronged me, instead of my socks wronging your society! Your peace was disturbed because-"
>You make a grand sweeping gesture to maximize the effect.
"-ALL PONIES SECRETLY THINK SOCKS ARE HOT!"
>More ponies faint. The judge is red-faced. Your opposition is regretting his life choices.
>You're considering a legal career.

-*-

>Day MILF in Kinderquestria.
>Discovering you were in a world full of horses with grade school sensibilities was kind of a trip.
> After a few months you're comfortably settled in, and things are just peachy.
>In fact, there's only one thing you'd ask for.
>You really, really need someone to squeeze at night.
>You got over the whole interspecies thing quickly.
>It's not like you're ever getting back to Earth again, and you sure as hell aren't going to spend the rest of your life celibate.
>Nah, your main issue was the ponies themselves.
>Not to say they were unattractive. Just the opposite.
>Every mare you've met is cute, has a round butt, and is generally a sweetheart.
>But they're also utterly clueless about come-ons or are too... childish.
>It feels weird and uncomfortable to even consider it with most of them.
>Except one.
>You saunter through Ponyville, checking for her.
>It's just after noon, she's usually done with her work by now...
>The sound of a collision and the flower sisters screaming catches your attention, and you grin as your pace quickens.
>Sure enough, there she is sticking out of the flower shop.
>You help get her extricated from the wreckage of her latest accident and smile as her crooked eyes meet yours.
"Hey, Derp. You alright?"
>"O-Oh, Anonymous! I am, thanks. I'm so sorry, we always seem to meet at my worst moments..."
>Only because she's easiest to find when she's accidentally trashing something.
"Don't sweat it. You get all your work done?"
>"Yep! Everypony's mail, safely delivered. Only two mix-ups and one crash!"
>You gesture at the pile of rubble.
"Wow! So, this is your only crash today?"
>She turns away, blushing slightly.
>"...Not exactly. I meant I only had one while I was on the clock."
"Heh heh heh. Well, hey, that's still pretty good. Want to get lunch to celebrate?"
>She perks up at that, staring up at you with her golden eyes.
>"Really?"
"Really really."
>"W-Well, since you're offering..."
>You set her down, give her a light dusting off, help her apologize, and soon the two of you are making your way across town.
>You are both greeted by ponies you know as you stroll, and you have to politely refuse multiple invitations to come play.
>You love these little guys, but you’re a man after a mare. Gotta stay focused.
>Derpy, for her part, helps you smooth things over each time.
>Her relatively calm demeanor is part of what you like about her. She only gets riled up when there’s something big going on.
>And moms hold some strange power in Equestria, even over ponies that seem to be of the same age.
>With her help, no little pony feelings are hurt, and you both arrive at the local sandwich joint.
>”Thank you for this, Anonymous.”
“My pleasure. And call me Anon.”
>You get seated outside since it’s such a nice day, and the waiter brings you two glasses of water while you talk.
“How’s Dinky? She seemed a little down last time I saw her.”
>”She’s good. She’s just bummed because one of her friends is on vacation. They love to jump rope together.”
>You smile in relief.
“I’ll try and cheer her up next time I see her. I can at least hold the jump rope.”
>Derpy giggles.
>”She’ll love that. But how about you, Anon? We never have time to talk when I deliver your mail.”
“Oh, you know. Pinkie keeps me busy at the bakery.”
>Time seems to flow quicker when you’re around her.
>Before you know it, you’re paying for a sandwich you barely remember eating and walking out of the restaurant with Derpy following you.
>”Say, Anon.”
“Yeah?”
>”I’ve been wondering about this for a while, but…”
>She hesitates for a moment.
>”You’re awfully nice to me, even though we rarely talk. Oh, b-but don’t get me wrong, I like it! Seeing you always brightens my day a little, but I just wonder…”
>She stares up at you, her eyes aligning for a moment.
>”Do you want something from me?”
>…Jesus, she caught on quick.
>Is this the power of pony MILFs?
>Like, sure, you probably aren’t hiding your intentions very well, and an Earth girl would’ve seen you coming a mile away, but you were genuinely not expecting this from a pony.
>Well, from the way she’s speaking, you don’t think she’d be opposed to it.
“I do, actually. Do you mind if we talk somewhere private?”
>She tilts her head.
>”Is it serious?”
“Yeah. Well, serious to me.”
>”Okay. Then, let’s talk at my house.”
>She leads you back to her cottage, and you sit down on the floor while Derpy pulls over a cushion to sit on.
>”I’m all ears, Anon. What do you need?”
>…Maybe she didn’t read you after all.
>Still, this is a good opportunity.
“Derpy, you know how I’m the only human in Equestria?”
>”Yeah… I’m sorry. That must be really lonely.”
“It is. But I realized a long time ago that I like ponies, too. In a love kind of way.”
>She looks surprised, but in a good way. She leans forward a little.
>”R-Really? That’s great! You’d make a great special somep- uh… somehuman, I guess? Well, you’d make a mare really happy Anon.”
>A sly smile crosses her face.
>”So, do you want me to talk to somepony for you?”
>What?
>Oh. Ooooooooooh.
>She thinks you’re asking for help telling a mare you like her.
>Heh. Well, she isn’t wrong, but you learned in fourth grade that you gotta do this stuff yourself.
>You play coy.
“Weeeeellllll… Yeah. She’s super cute and has a little daughter who’s almost as cute. I’m kinda worried she might think I’m not serious.”
>”Hmmm. I wouldn’t worry about that. You’re a stand-up guy, Anon. Everyone in town knows that. So, who is it? I’m sure she’ll be really happy when I tell her!”
>You slide a hand forward to poke at her front hoof.
>”…Um, Anon…”
“Yeah, Derp?”
>”Y-You poked me.”
“Sure did.”
>”Right after I asked who you like.”
“Yep.”
>”A-And… That… Kind of means…”
“No ‘kind of’ about it, Derpy. I like you. A lot.”
>She’s beet red, both eyes looking anywhere but you.
>”U-Um, if you don’t mind me asking… Why?”
“Why not? You’re one of the most mature ponies I’ve ever met, and I’ve met the princesses. You’re nice, calm, easy to get along with, and a pretty girl. What’s not to like?”
>She squeaks at every trait you list until she’s covering her eyes and steam comes out of her ears.
>”You say that, b-but-! I break things all the time! A-And I’ll ask you to help me take care of Dinky. You… You won’t want me after a while… He didn’t…”
>You don’t know who “he” is, but you could smack him for making her think that.
>You scoot forward, gently taking her hooves in your hands.
“Hey. Look at me.”
>She does, face still red and tears starting to form.
“I don’t kid around about stuff like this. And whoever left you with Dinky? His loss. Now, it’s one thing if you really don’t want to give this a try. I won’t argue, I won’t get mad, and we’ll still be friends. I can’t make you like me.”
>You grip her hooves tight and stare into her eyes.
“But if you give me a shot, you’ll never have to handle anything alone again. I promise. I’ll help with anything. I’ll do my best to be a good dad for Dinky. Just let me try.”
>She tears up as you finish, and just stares back at you for a long time, sniffling as she opens her mouth, only to close it. Eventually she opens it again.
“…Okay…!”
>You pull her into a hug, and she squeezes you tight with both hooves and wings.
>You both sit there holding each other for a while.
>She turns her head up to look at you, locking eyes.
>Well, one of them.
>”Hey… Can I kiss you…?”
>She licks her lips
>You answer by leaning in. She meets you halfway.
>What comes next is a blur.
>All you can think about is heat of her breath on your face, and the happy little moans she makes into your mouth every so often.
>She’s surprisingly okay with tongue.
>Lots of tongue.
>You didn’t think ponies would even know how to French kiss, but you aren’t too beat up over being wrong this time.
>You’re being pinned to the floor and the room is getting hot when there’s a knock on the door.
>”Mama? Are you there? School’s out, how come you didn’t come get me?”
>You both shoot upright, looking at the grandfather clock nearby.
>Shit, you were sucking face for almost an hour!
>Derpy tidies her mane before hurrying to the door.
>”I’m so sorry, little muffin! I just lost track of time!”
>You straighten your shirt collar just as Dinky walks in and sees you.
>”Mister Anonymous! Hi!”
>She runs over, rearing up on her hind legs and waving her little hooves.
>You laugh, picking her up and whirling her around.
“Hey, Dinky! Sorry, I was just, er, talking with your mom about something.”
>”T-That’s right, muffin. We… have something important to talk to you about. A surprise.”
>”Oooooo, I love surprises!”
>Derpy smiles, flying up to wrap her hooves around your neck from behind.
>”Mama does too.”

-*-

>Be Anon.
>Get sent to jail for eating your boss’ cookie at work.
>Not like that.
>You had hoped your foolproof legal defense of “I didn’t see his name on it” would work, but the judge declared you should still have asked around considering you’d already had your own allotted cookie for the day.
>It was a fair coupe, but you still tried to convince the court that you needed more than one cookie a day for medical reasons.
>You are now in a holding cell waiting for the little pony doctor to come see you.
>He walks in with a stethoscope hanging from his neck and a box of cookies.
>“Good afternoon Mr. Anonymous. Before we begin, could you tell me a little about this need for multiple cookies per day?”
>Alright, here we go.
“Well, doc, I just never feel full when I eat my one cookie. I don’t know how to explain it. I just... I get really slow and sluggish, and I can’t focus on my work at all. I think I need more sugar because I’m bigger than the average pony.”
>You’re lying off the cuff. You just want more cookies.
>”That’s a fair point, Mr. Anonymous. I have a little test I’d like to try.”
>The doctor offers you the box of cookies.
>”Please eat as many cookies as you can in 10 seconds.”
>You grin like a shark.

>The next day in court is a regular opera show.
>The doctor is in hysterics.
>”Never, in all my years, have I seen such a gross neglect of a living creature’s needs! Shame on Mr. Anonymous’ employer for forcing him to subsist on a single cookie a day! This poor human ate a quarter of a box in ten seconds and didn’t get sick! How could you deny this starving being one more cookie?! How dare you, sir! Have you no heart?!”
>You’re unanimously acquitted.
>The jury awards you ownership of the company in reparations.
>You’re the boss now.
>You got cookies for days.
>And a cute secretary.
>Today was a corporate climbing kind of day.

>Be Anon.
>Get caught rubbing your secretary’s belly at work.
>Get sent to jail for public lewdity.
>Your secretary deliberately knocks over a vase so she’ll get sent too.
>Nice.
>Get caught rubbing your secretary’s belly in your cell.
>They move her cell to the other side of the prison and put you in perma-timeout.
>The harshest punishment of all.
>You remain unrepentant and rub your guard’s belly.
>They keep switching your guards, you keep getting new bellies to rub.
>You slowly corrupt the prison.
>Become the shadow warden.
>All the bellies are yours.

-*-

>Be Anon in Kinderquestria.
>Freshly released from jail after serving a sentence for shouting "penis" really loudly.
>You've never lost that game on Earth and you sure as shit weren't going to lose here.
>You're hanging out at the train station waiting for your ride back home when you hear a voice calling out to you.
>"Hey you! Tower-lookin' fella! Care to test your luck?"
>Recreational gambling? Here?
>You make your way over to the busker pony and see that she's got a little table set up.
>There are three little cups set on its surface.
>All around you are muttering ponies who seem to have been previously beaten.
"Sure, what's the game?"
>"Just keep your eye on the birdie! If you guess which cups it's under, I'll double your money!"
>Oh, it's this.
>You idly wonder if she's pulling the old drop-the-ball-off-the-table trick to have beaten this many ponies, but you have a sneaking suspicion that they're just silly boys and girls.
"Alright, put me in for ten."
>You set your money down, and the crowd ooos and ahhhs.
>"Ten it is! Here we go!"
>You keep your eyes locked on the cup the little red ball is under.
>As you suspected, she's not pulling any funny business, everybody's just goofs.
>She stop after a little bit.
>"Alright, take your pick!"
>You tap your fingers on the right cup, and she pulls it up to reveal the ball.
>The crowd whoops and stomps, and the busker is flabbergasted.
>"Shoot, mister, you're pretty good!"
>She quickly recovers, giving you a cocky grin.
>"Bet you can't do it twice in a row!"
>You smile back.
"Yeah? How much?"
>"I'll give you another twenty if you beat me this time!"
"Game on."
>She slide the cups around like a mare possessed, but since she doesn't do anything fancy like passing the ball between cups it's not too hard.
>She stops, panting with forelegs spread wide, looking up at you expectantly.
>You tap the center cup.
>And sure enough, there it is.
>Her jaw hangs low, but she pays up.
>You're about to leave when she stops you again.
>"H-Hang on a second! Let's play again! A different game!"
>She stows the little red ball and pulls out some dice instead.
>"You ever roll dice, mister? Let's put forty bits on this one roll!"
>The crowd gasps, and you raise an eyebrow.
>She must really need that money back.
>You hope it wasn't her train fare, though you kinda laugh at the thought.
>You'll blow her mind one last time, but you'll at least buy her ticket after.
"Sure. Let's make it interesting though. How about lowest roll wins?"
>"Huh... Lowest? Well, if that's how you like it! Let's do it!"
>You let her go first, and she does surprisingly well.
>Of a five-dice roll, she gets two ones, two twos, and a three.
>She smirks up at you.
>"Nine!"
>The crowd are packed in to watch, and they're on the edge of their seats.
>You've got a trick up your sleeve, though.
>Good thing you spent an afternoon figuring out how to stack dice.
>You carefully line your dice up on the table, evenly spaced, and scoop them into the cup with a zig-zagging motion.
>All the ponies watch, bemused, as you slam the cup down, only to gasp when you raise it.
>A neat tower of dice stands proudly, showing a four on top.
"Four. Looks like I win again."
>Someone in the crowd starts shouting.
>"Hang on a second! That's cheating, isn't it?"
>Suddenly you're surrounded by accusing ponies.
>"Yeah, you can't do that! You still have to count the dice underneath!"
"Says who? That's not a rule!"
>"W-Well, it's still kinda…"
>"What's all this, then?!"
>Great, of course the cops show up now.
>"Ponice! This guy just cheated at dice!"
"What the heck!? What'd I ever do to you, dude?!"
>You find yourself surrounded by copper pones, with your erstwhile opponent still staring in awe at the tower of dice.
>"Cheating at dice, eh? You're going in the slammer for that, you... uh... thingy!"
"I just got out of the slammer! Bug off!"
>"RESISTING ARREST!"
>You're tackled and dragged off by the popo.
>By "dragged off," you mean shepherded away when you eventually feel bad enough about not falling over when they whack you with their squeaky batons.
>As you're dragged back to the station for questioning, the busker pony slowly turns her head to stare after you.
>"...So cool...!"
>Today was an "earned a fan, but at what cost?" kind of day.

-*-

>Be Anon.
>Get your first paycheck from kinderjob.
>Working in Ponyville Town Hall wasn't so bad, especially when damn near nobody came in there.
>You put the sack of coins in your jacket pocket and walk home.
>Get home to count them out.
>These gold coins are weirdly soft.
>…
>No way.
>They wouldn't. They couldn't.
>THEY DID.
>You hold your face in your hands as you stare down at the half-unwrapped chocolate coin before you.
>You... you get paid in candy.
>You go back to work the next day to make sure you didn't just get pranked.
>Nope. Everybody gets paid in chocolate coins.
>You watch a coworker accidentally eat his lunch money.
>That's when it hits you.
>An idea. An amazing idea. Possibly the single greatest idea you've ever had.
>What if you could get ponies to accept other candies as payment?
>Candies that you made?
>It's worth a shot. What could go wrong?

>Plenty, as it turns out.
>After learning some basic skills from Bon Bon, you set about making some gummy coins.
>Gelatin and fruit juice are pretty cheap, and so you crank out a bunch to test with.
>You start small. You walk out to Sweet Apple Acres and try to buy yourself some apple juice with them.
>You offer Applejack some jelly-coins instead of bits.
>She eyes you up and down before taking one to look at.
>You start sweating. Maybe you shouldn't have tried this on the Element of Honesty, you dingus.
>She takes a bite of one, then immediately brightens.
>"Mm! Don't think Ah've ever seen coins like that, sugarcube, but they're good. Here's yer apple juice."
"Thanks, AJ."
>You have to contain your hype as you walk off the farm.
>As you quickly confirm with various other purchases, ponies judge the authenticity of the money by how good it tastes.
>You're about to be the richest man in the world, baby.
>Over the course of weeks, you craft enough jelly-coins to make a dragon hoard out of, and buy yourself a palace of a house.
>Daily backrubs from the spa twins, hiring out a cook and a maid, you're living the dream.
>You get so loose with your money you buy a boat.
>The only place to use it is on the lake, and you just let whoever sail it.
>You can always buy another if it sinks.
>Anyways, you live like a baller until tax season.
>Turns out, a variety of ponies from all over the country trying to use a mysterious foreign currency to pay their taxes is gonna draw some attention.
>You get visited by the Equestrian IRS.
>You sweat bullets as they ask where exactly you got your jelly-coins.
>You lie and say that they're human money, and that you had a bunch when you came to Equestria.
>They book you for not reporting your wealth when you first arrived, and not only are you going to jail, you now owe quite a bit of back tax.
>Today was a white-collar crime kind of day.

-*-

>Day High Five in Kinderquestria.
>You're a green tower of power, too sweet to be sour, so you must be Anonymous.
>You're hanging out on one of the many benches in Ponyville, doing some pony watching.
>Heh. Pony watching. In Ponyville. On the Pony Planet. In the Ponyverse.
>Anyway, you're watching your four-legged neighbors be the cute little creatures they are.
>Given that they're friendly to the extreme and had no problem accepting you into their community, you receive waves from almost everyone who notices you on the bench.
>You return each and every one, a smile on your face.
>Suddenly, a little mint green unicorn gallops over.
>"Hiya Anon!"
"Hey Lyra. How are you?"
>"I'm great! I've been looking for you!"
>She clambers up into the bench, imitating your sitting position.
>Rear legs dangling off the bench, forelegs at her sides.
>You have no idea how pony skeletons work.
>"I wanted to show you something!"
>She holds up one of her hooves, and a magical glow surrounds it.
>Five glowing, golden fingers wiggle at you!
>"Look! Now I have a hand too!"
>She looks so proud of herself. It's too cute.
>You play along.
"That's really neat, Lyra. Here, put your hand up."
>She tilts her head, but obliges you.
>You lightly slap your hand onto hers.
"High five!"
>She laughs happily.
>"My turn!"
>A satisfying smack rings out as she returns the gesture.
"Nice. What made you want to have hands though?"
>"I just think they're really neat. I like your hands!"
>Awww.
"Well, I'll teach you some other hand-related activities then."
>"Really?! Yay!"
"Alright, so there's a game humans call rock paper scissors..."
>You teach Lyra the relevant hand signs, and play a few times.
>The little green pony giggles happily every time she makes a gesture with her new magic appendage.
"Now you've got it."
>"This is so cool, Anon! Humans use this to decide stuff?"
"Yeah. That or nosegoes."
>"Nosegoes?"
"Yeah, that's where somebody shouts 'nosegoes!' and whoever puts their finger to their nose last has to go, so to speak."
>"So, like this?"
>A glowing finger bops the tip of your nose.
"Heh. No, you use your own nose. Like this."
>You grab hold of her hand and press her finger to her little pony snout.
>"Oh, gotcha!"
"So there's that, and... Hm. There's chopsticks, but that one's more fun with two hands."
>Lyra raises her other hoof, and another golden hand appears.
>"Ta-da!"
"Hahaha! Well, alright. Put out your fingers like this..."
>You spend a good long while teaching the pale green unicorn the finer points of chopsticks strategy.
>You let her win a couple games, too.
>"This is all really fun, Anon! I never knew you could do so much with hands!"
"And I'd almost forgotten how fun some of this stuff is. We can play whenever you feel like it, Lyra."
>"That sounds great! We'll be hand buddies!"
>You chuckle.
"Here. One last hand tip, for a hand buddy. A good way to say hi or bye is to give a handshake. You can make it as long and elaborate as you want."
>"Oooo! Oooo! Then, let's make ours!"
>The next ten minutes is spent perfecting a needlessly long and pointlessly complicated secret handshake, that no other two citizens of Ponyville would be able to replicate anyway on account of their not having hands.
>You love it regardless.
>You're about to go through the whole thing again when a ponice officer spots the two of you.
>She pulls out her whistle and gives it a blast.
>"Holding hooves in public! You two l-lewdsters are coming with me!"
>Aw, what?
>You're just thinking about how to get yourself out of this when Lyra speaks up.
>"Nuh-uh! My hand's made of magic, doesn't count! I'm not actually touching Anon!"
>The cop hesitates.
"Look, officer, we're just a pair of hand buddies doing hand buddy things. If you don't like our super-secret hand club handshake, then we'll take our business elsewhere."
>The cop relents.
>Thus went the first meeting of the Hand Club.

-*-

>Day Team Building Exercise in Kinderquestria.
>Be Anon working for a little pony firm.
>You still aren’t entirely sure what this company does, but they pay you, so you don’t ask questions.
>In typical corporate fashion, management decided having everybody climb the stairs all the way up to your 43rd floor office suite would be fun and good for building synergy.
>Even in pony land, you can’t escape the buzzwords.
>Anyway, it started out fun enough.
>Everybody was having fun chatting and laughing up until about the 10th floor.
>One of the secretary mares tugged on your pants leg.
>”Anon, my hooves are starting to hurt. Can you carry me for a bit?”
>Like you’d ever refuse a chance to touch ponies.
“Sure, Ink Well. C’mere.”
>You gently hoist your coworker up in your arms.
>She sighs in relief as the journey resumes, but Cross Correlate’s cheeks puff.
>”Hey, that’s not fair! I want an Anon Ride too!”
“One at a time, Cross. I’ll let you switch in when Ink feels better.”
>The little pegasus stallion grumbles. Ink Well sticks out her tongue at him.
>At floor 20 even your chest is burning.
>Whose idea was this? Is this even physically possible for kinderponies?
>You’re surrounded by groaning and pleading pastel penitents, all begging for help.
>Ink Well’s still tired, so you shift her around onto your back, two pegasi clamber onto your shoulders, and you squeeze as many ponies as you can carry into your arms.
>This your lungs feel like someone lit a match inside them.
>The wails of the ponies you don’t have room to carry reached a cacophony, and they cling you your pants and the back of your shirt, with others clinging to them, until a giant chain of clinging, moaning lumps trails behind you down the stairs.
>At floor 30, you’re pretty sure you’re gonna die.
>The others are arguing with Ink Well, who still refuses to give up her seat but won’t say why.
>She’s squeezing your chest tightly with her hooves, making it even harder to breathe.
>Cross Correlate is trying to pry her off, which slows you down.
>Everybody else is pawing and clambering all over you, and the background noise could fool you into thinking you’d somehow descended into hell.
>At floor 40, only one thought remains in your head.
>You are going to DESTROY whichever shareholder thought of this.
>Cuddly pony or no, this was a terrible idea and they should feel terrible.
>Drenched in sweat, you claw your way up the last three flights and in through the door to the office, collapsing.
>One by one, your little pony passengers join you, flopping over on the carpet.
>Except Ink Well, who sees fit to just splay out on your back.
>Your boss walks up.
>”Welcome back, everypony! Did you have fun?”
>You all slowly turn your heads to look at him.

>Some time later, you’re walking out of the building, as many pudding cups as you can carry under one arm, Ink Well under the other, surrounded by comrades in the movement.
>The boss’ll get out of his duct tape prison eventually.
>Today was a worker’s uprising sort of day.

-*-

>"I can see time, Nonners!"
>You're standing in what you thought was your kitchen but has apparently been converted into some weird pony laboratory.
>Your refrigerator stands open, your last can of Monster empty on the floor, and Pinkie Pie is vibrating in place before you.
>She's destroying the floor beneath her and you don't like the look of that smile she's got.
>There are other little ponies galloping around panicking about it. They keep trying to "lock down the premises," but they can't because you won't give them your keys.
>It's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean up after this...
"Panko, I think you need to leave. It's hard enough getting these guys out of my house without you scaring them like this."
>"Heeheehee! Silly Nonners! Mortal concerns are trivial compared to the power that comes with CHIM!"
>Oh god. Did an energy drink seriously bring her to enlightenment? That's both stupid and amazing, somehow.
"Ponka, listen to me. I don't know what you're seeing, but what you drank was just a bunch of sugar and taurine. You'll be over it in a few hours."
>"But I don't want to be over it! It's so much fun having hidden knowledge and seeing the future!"
>She taps her chin with a hoof after that statement.
>"I think I might have always had the hidden knowledge, though."
>This isn't going anywhere. You'll need to do something to get her to calm down.
>You take a step forward only to see nothing where she was a moment earlier, and hear a voice in your ear.
>"I see all, Nonners. Resistance is futile."
>You slowly turn your head to find a single baby blue eye boring into yours.
>This... might actually be a problem.
>You try to snatch her off your shoulders only to feel her bouncing on top of your head. You reach up there only to see her sitting on your kitchen counter across the room.
>"With all this power, I can finally make you do it."
>Her eyes stare unblinkingly at you as she utters her simple command.
>"Say my name right, Nonners."
"Pinker Pong."
>The universe collapses around you.

-*-

To be continued as I come up with more silly shorts.