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Asshole in Equestria: Part 2

By: An_Irish_Nomad on Aug 15th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 11.77 KB | hits: 457 | expires: Never

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>You enter the restaurant, immediately approaching the counter.
“Usual table, now.”
>The waiter nods hesitantly and escorts you out through ranks of night-time patrons, towards the back of the restaurant. Thankfully, no pour soul had had the misfortune to sit your spot tonight, and you settle down into the familiar corner, enticing smells of culinary goodness emanating from the kitchen.
>”And what would Sir… who, might I add, is looking very sharp tonight…”
“I came here to eat, not to be complimented on my attire by a college dropout.”
>”Of course, of course, I’m so terribly sorry Sir. What would you like to…?”
“For a start, I’ll have a bottle of white wine. I don’t care what brand, they all taste like a vinegar and battery acid cocktail, just get me something I can get drunk on while being classy. Next, I’ll have a side of battered mushrooms, and for your sake I hope they’re cooked right. For my main course, I’ll have a sirloin steak done rare, and don’t give me any excuses about it being meat, I know very well that you fucks serve it here. Understood? Do I need to repeat any of that?”
>”N-no Sir, everything is taken care of. Enjoy y-your night!” The waiter grins at you, teeth clenched, before running off to the kitchen.
>You run your hands through your hair, eyes closed, and the sounds of running water from the fountain bringing peace to your mind. You think back over the events of the last few years… your confusing entrance into Equestria… your adjustment… life in P0nyville…
>Your breathing grows heavy as you recall the events of just a few months prior.
>You had been hanging out with that Scootaloo kid, when you’d come up with the brilliant idea to play a prank on the whole town, by faking her disappearance. Twilight, who you called Purplesmart, sometimes out of affection and sometimes in satire, had helped you by casting an invisibility spell on Scoots, who then proceeded to stalk her two other friends, paying pranks on them once they had given up searching for her.
>The town hadn’t seen the funny side once it came to light that you were responsible, and they unanimously voted to kick you out.
>You didn’t miss much, since you despised everyone… well, not everyone. Purplesmart, for all her autistic, socially retarded shortcomings had been nice to you, and you missed her. You missed that Scootaloo kid as well. You were an asshole at heart, and an asshole by nature, but seeing that kid’s inability to fly touched your heart in a way nothing else had.
>Fuck, Canterlot was grim compared to P0nyville. In P0nyville, you’d gotten the whole town scared of you, and you’d enjoyed seeing p0nies tumble over themselves to appease you. Here in Canterlot, no-one knew you, and the city was far too big to become notorious in. So every night, you came here, to the Royal Restaurant, a famous eatery for the refined pigs who comprised the upper class, and spent your ever decreasing bits on a cooked meal and a night of intimidating p0nies, before returning to the hotel which you now called home.
>Living the good life…
>You are brought out of your depressing train of thought by an unfamiliar voice. “My, this place certainly has been thrown to rabble if they’re letting dirty monkeys eat here.”
>You snap back to attention to seek the source of the voice. Before you stands a blonde-maned unicorn, suited up and with a pale-white mare by his side.
“And who do I have the ill-luck to be speaking with now?”
>The unicorn tuts, reeking of royalty, smugness, and general faggotry.
>”How does one not know who I am? I am Prince Blueblood, the Prince Blueblood!”
“Well excuse me Blueballs, I’m trying to have a nice evening here, so I’d really appreciate you and your whore getting out of my sight.”
>”What a shame, the lower class never seem to appreciate true greatness.” Blueblood sighs, before walking on, his mystery mare giving you not an angry look, but a curious one.
>They both take a seat not too far from you; close enough so that you can hear snippets of their conversation. You hear the words, “filthy, disgusting” and “primate” from Blueblood’s mouth.
>Well, that’s more than enough motivation for you to ruin his night.
>You silently stare at him until your starter and wine arrives, delivered by the same quaking waiter from before.
>You line the mushrooms up in a row, before picking one up and flicking it at Blueblood.
>It sails through the air, before colliding with the back of Blueblood’s head, who yelps in surprise. He turns round and seethes at you, his anger comical at best.
>You match his gaze until he decides to turn back, resuming his conversation with the unknown mare.
>With another flick of the wrist, another mushroom is sent flying, which whizzes past his head.
>Damn, you need to work on your aim.
>Blueblood doesn’t face you, but you can tell he’s angry by the way his body is shaking. But he’s also afraid of you; you’ll need to get him angrier before you can overcome that.
>You decide to hold off from throwing anymore mushroom until your steak arrives, which doesn’t take long.
>As the waiter places the plate in front of you, you wrap the mushrooms up into a napkin and fold it over. You swing it round your head once, before letting go, setting a hail of battered shrooms towards Blueblood. The rain of fungi surprises him yet again, and he stands up form his table, marching over to you.
>Now for the fun part…
>”You callous devil! You hairless chimp! How dare you show disrespect to me!”
>You push your table backwards and step out of the corner, walking forward to meet Blueblood. Like every other damn p0ny, he underestimates how tall you can be when you want to.
>For a second, you stare down at him, arms folded. You then grab a fork off your table and twirl it between your fingers, before clenching it in your grip.
>You sometimes transcended the barrier between being a dick and being a psychopath, and now way one of those times. But hey, that’s part of the fun.
>You take slow, deliberate steps towards blueblood, holding the fork as you would a knife, keeping your gaze locked with his. He begins to take steps backwards, cocky demure completely gone. You enjoyed seeing such a reversal in a p0ny’s attitude, especially in a p0ny like this.
>Your pace quickens as you raise the fork, aware that the majority of the restaurant is watching you. You had perfected the “I’m a crazy bastard who’s going to kill you” look long ago, but practise never hurt. You flash a toothy grin at Blueblood, making sure he gets a good look at your canines.
>”Now my g-good s-stallion, let’s not do s-something we’ll regret…” Blueblood stutters as he retreats backwards, slowly inching towards the fountain behind him.
>When he’s almost backed up against the fountain, you roar and make as if to charge. He screams like a bitch, before turning to run, tumbling head first into the fountain. As he thrashes about in the water, you turn away and return to your table, grabbing the steak in one hand and the wine in the other.
“Consider this moment as payment for the food” you chuckle, as the waiter gapes at you, before you make your way out of the restaurant, cheerily strolling down the sidewalk.
>Yeah, you’ve still got the touch, that’s for sure…
>”Not bad.”
>You turn around to see a griffon emerge from an alley, shrouded in darkness.
“Look sweetheart, if you’re going to try and mug me then don’t make it so obvious.”
>”I’m not going to do that. I just wanted to congratulate you on making that stuck up shithead scream.”
“Well gee, I sure appreciate the random praise from a stranger. How’d you know anyway, there’s no way a tramp like you got into that restaurant. “
>”I was watching from above, and flew down here when you were done, obviously.”
“Well slap my ass and call me shaggy, that mystery was a sure brain breaker. Now, flock off featherbrain. I’ve got wine to drink and steak to eat, and you don’t need to be present for either.”
>The griffon glares at you. “Hey, there’s no need to be so ru… wait, did you say you had steak?”
“Did I fucking stutter? Yes, I have steak.”
>The griffon licks her beak with her extraordinarily long tongue. “Whoa, it’s been a while since I had steak…
“And it’s going to be a while longer darling, I’m not one for sharing.”
>The griffon looks downcast, and sighs. “Sorry… I’ve just been down on my luck recently…”
“And why should I care?”
>”Forget it!” the griffon yells, tears streaming down her face. You snort, and begin to walk off, chugging from the bottle of wine.
>”I shoulda stayed in P0nyville…”
>Wait.
>Did she just…
>Well, things just got interesting.
>You spin round and walk back to the griffon.
“Wait, did you just say something about P0nyville?”
>”Its n-nothing, and you clearly don’t c-care anyway.”
“Hey, if it’s about P0nyville I want to hear it.”
>The griffon looks up at you. “Well, a couple of years ago I came back to P0nyville to visit an old friend, and I ended up being run out of the town.”
>A memory surfaces from your subconscious.
“You’re… you’re Gilda, aren’t you?”
>”What the… who told you?”
“Your “old friend” Rainbow Dyke mentioned you once or twice. Apparently, you were quite the cunt.”
>Gilda blushes. “Yeah, I could have been nicer.”
“Don’t ever say that. The only fun that comes from these p0nies is by being a jackass.”
>The two of you fall silent for a moment.
“Y’know, I was run out of P0nyville as well, so I can sympathize with you here.”
>”You were run out? For what?”
“They wanted the dick, but I wouldn’t give it to them.” You make exaggerated pelvic thrusts and Gilda breaks down laughing.
>”You’re a funny guy, Mister…?”
“Anonymous, but my friends call me Anon. So, you’re stuck with calling me Anonymous for now.”
>”Huh, I can’t see you having too many friends to call you Anon anyway.”
“That was a low blow, Gilda.”
>”Yeah, well it’s a good thing there’s nothing down there to damage.”
>You grin.
“I like you, Gilda. You remind me of myself, if I was half as tall, much uglier and a chick.”
>You both laugh for a moment, before Gilda starts walking away from you.
“Hey, what gives?”
>”I’m heading back to my shithole of an apartment, to drink stupid amounts of beer and dull the emotional pain.”
“Everything about that except the beer sounds bad, but you can count me in.”
>”I don’t remember inviting you.” Gilda attempts to sound serious but she can’t control her smile.
“Yeah, I have a habit of not caring about others, it’s why I’m loved so much. Wait, loved isn’t the right word, unquestionably loathed is.”
>Gilda raises an eyebrow, strangely cute. “You seem like an interesting guy Anon… so, are you coming back or not?”
“Hell yeah!”
>”Ok then, but you’re sharing that steak.”
“Over my dead body.”
>The two of you laugh and walk down the street in tandem, both internally grateful of the company.
>Uuuugh.
>You didn’t get drunk last night, you got beat up by Snowflake and Iron Will… wait, where the hell are you?
>You lean forward, feeling a wing slide across your chest.
>You clear your head and notice you’re in a shabby apartment, light pouring in through a window, illuminating the room, and its occupants.
>You look to your side to see Gilda sleeping, one of her wings draped across your naked chest.
>Wait a minute, naked?
>You throw off the blanket and your heart sinks. No trousers, no boxers, no nothing.
>Oh good God, did you fuck a griffon last night?
>”Morning” Gilda says sleepily, slowly stretching out.
“Fuck you.”
>”Yeah, you did.” She murmurs, a wide grin on her face.
>Well.
>Time for suicide.

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>You enter the restaurant, immediately approaching the counter.
“Usual table, now.” 
>The waiter nods hesitantly and escorts you out through ranks of night-time patrons, towards the back of the restaurant. Thankfully, no pour soul had had the misfortune to sit your spot tonight, and you settle down into the familiar corner, enticing smells of culinary goodness emanating from the kitchen. 
>”And what would Sir… who, might I add, is looking very sharp tonight…”
“I came here to eat, not to be complimented on my attire by a college dropout.”
>”Of course, of course, I’m so terribly sorry Sir. What would you like to…?”
“For a start, I’ll have a bottle of white wine. I don’t care what brand, they all taste like a vinegar and battery acid cocktail, just get me something I can get drunk on while being classy. Next, I’ll have a side of battered mushrooms, and for your sake I hope they’re cooked right. For my main course, I’ll have a sirloin steak done rare, and don’t give me any excuses about it being meat, I know very well that you fucks serve it here. Understood? Do I need to repeat any of that?”
>”N-no Sir, everything is taken care of. Enjoy y-your night!” The waiter grins at you, teeth clenched, before running off to the kitchen. 
>You run your hands through your hair, eyes closed, and the sounds of running water from the fountain bringing peace to your mind. You think back over the events of the last few years… your confusing entrance into Equestria… your adjustment… life in P0nyville…
>Your breathing grows heavy as you recall the events of just a few months prior. 
>You had been hanging out with that Scootaloo kid, when you’d come up with the brilliant idea to play a prank on the whole town, by faking her disappearance. Twilight, who you called Purplesmart, sometimes out of affection and sometimes in satire, had helped you by casting an invisibility spell on Scoots, who then proceeded to stalk her two other friends, paying pranks on them once they had given up searching for her.
>The town hadn’t seen the funny side once it came to light that you were responsible, and they unanimously voted to kick you out. 
>You didn’t miss much, since you despised everyone… well, not everyone. Purplesmart, for all her autistic, socially retarded shortcomings had been nice to you, and you missed her. You missed that Scootaloo kid as well. You were an asshole at heart, and an asshole by nature, but seeing that kid’s inability to fly touched your heart in a way nothing else had. 
>Fuck, Canterlot was grim compared to P0nyville. In P0nyville, you’d gotten the whole town scared of you, and you’d enjoyed seeing p0nies tumble over themselves to appease you. Here in Canterlot, no-one knew you, and the city was far too big to become notorious in. So every night, you came here, to the Royal Restaurant, a famous eatery for the refined pigs who comprised the upper class, and spent your ever decreasing bits on a cooked meal and a night of intimidating p0nies, before returning to the hotel which you now called home.
>Living the good life… 
>You are brought out of your depressing train of thought by an unfamiliar voice. “My, this place certainly has been thrown to rabble if they’re letting dirty monkeys eat here.”
>You snap back to attention to seek the source of the voice. Before you stands a blonde-maned unicorn, suited up and with a pale-white mare by his side. 
“And who do I have the ill-luck to be speaking with now?”
>The unicorn tuts, reeking of royalty, smugness, and general faggotry. 
>”How does one not know who I am? I am Prince Blueblood, the Prince Blueblood!”
“Well excuse me Blueballs, I’m trying to have a nice evening here, so I’d really appreciate you and your whore getting out of my sight.”
>”What a shame, the lower class never seem to appreciate true greatness.” Blueblood sighs, before walking on, his mystery mare giving you not an angry look, but a curious one. 
>They both take a seat not too far from you; close enough so that you can hear snippets of their conversation. You hear the words, “filthy, disgusting” and “primate” from Blueblood’s mouth.
>Well, that’s more than enough motivation for you to ruin his night.
>You silently stare at him until your starter and wine arrives, delivered by the same quaking waiter from before.
>You line the mushrooms up in a row, before picking one up and flicking it at Blueblood.
>It sails through the air, before colliding with the back of Blueblood’s head, who yelps in surprise. He turns round and seethes at you, his anger comical at best.  
>You match his gaze until he decides to turn back, resuming his conversation with the unknown mare. 
>With another flick of the wrist, another mushroom is sent flying, which whizzes past his head.
>Damn, you need to work on your aim. 
>Blueblood doesn’t face you, but you can tell he’s angry by the way his body is shaking. But he’s also afraid of you; you’ll need to get him angrier before you can overcome that. 
>You decide to hold off from throwing anymore mushroom until your steak arrives, which doesn’t take long. 
>As the waiter places the plate in front of you, you wrap the mushrooms up into a napkin and fold it over. You swing it round your head once, before letting go, setting a hail of battered shrooms towards Blueblood. The rain of fungi surprises him yet again, and he stands up form his table, marching over to you.
>Now for the fun part…
>”You callous devil! You hairless chimp! How dare you show disrespect to me!”
>You push your table backwards and step out of the corner, walking forward to meet Blueblood. Like every other damn p0ny, he underestimates how tall you can be when you want to.
>For a second, you stare down at him, arms folded. You then grab a fork off your table and twirl it between your fingers, before clenching it in your grip. 
>You sometimes transcended the barrier between being a dick and being a psychopath, and now way one of those times. But hey, that’s part of the fun.
>You take slow, deliberate steps towards blueblood, holding the fork as you would a knife, keeping your gaze locked with his. He begins to take steps backwards, cocky demure completely gone. You enjoyed seeing such a reversal in a p0ny’s attitude, especially in a p0ny like this.
>Your pace quickens as you raise the fork, aware that the majority of the restaurant is watching you. You had perfected the “I’m a crazy bastard who’s going to kill you” look long ago, but practise never hurt. You flash a toothy grin at Blueblood, making sure he gets a good look at your canines. 
>”Now my g-good s-stallion, let’s not do s-something we’ll regret…” Blueblood stutters as he retreats backwards, slowly inching towards the fountain behind him. 
>When he’s almost backed up against the fountain, you roar and make as if to charge. He screams like a bitch, before turning to run, tumbling head first into the fountain. As he thrashes about in the water, you turn away and return to your table, grabbing the steak in one hand and the wine in the other. 
“Consider this moment as payment for the food” you chuckle, as the waiter gapes at you, before you make your way out of the restaurant, cheerily strolling down the sidewalk.
>Yeah, you’ve still got the touch, that’s for sure…
>”Not bad.”
>You turn around to see a griffon emerge from an alley, shrouded in darkness.
“Look sweetheart, if you’re going to try and mug me then don’t make it so obvious.”
>”I’m not going to do that. I just wanted to congratulate you on making that stuck up shithead scream.”
“Well gee, I sure appreciate the random praise from a stranger. How’d you know anyway, there’s no way a tramp like you got into that restaurant. “
>”I was watching from above, and flew down here when you were done, obviously.”
“Well slap my ass and call me shaggy, that mystery was a sure brain breaker. Now, flock off featherbrain. I’ve got wine to drink and steak to eat, and you don’t need to be present for either.”
>The griffon glares at you. “Hey, there’s no need to be so ru… wait, did you say you had steak?”
“Did I fucking stutter? Yes, I have steak.”
>The griffon licks her beak with her extraordinarily long tongue. “Whoa, it’s been a while since I had steak…
“And it’s going to be a while longer darling, I’m not one for sharing.”
>The griffon looks downcast, and sighs. “Sorry… I’ve just been down on my luck recently…”
“And why should I care?”
>”Forget it!” the griffon yells, tears streaming down her face. You snort, and begin to walk off, chugging from the bottle of wine.
>”I shoulda stayed in P0nyville…”
>Wait.
>Did she just…
>Well, things just got interesting.
>You spin round and walk back to the griffon. 
“Wait, did you just say something about P0nyville?”
>”Its n-nothing, and you clearly don’t c-care anyway.”
“Hey, if it’s about P0nyville I want to hear it.”
>The griffon looks up at you. “Well, a couple of years ago I came back to P0nyville to visit an old friend, and I ended up being run out of the town.”
>A memory surfaces from your subconscious. 
“You’re… you’re Gilda, aren’t you?”
>”What the… who told you?”
“Your “old friend” Rainbow Dyke mentioned you once or twice. Apparently, you were quite the cunt.”
>Gilda blushes. “Yeah, I could have been nicer.”
“Don’t ever say that. The only fun that comes from these p0nies is by being a jackass.”
>The two of you fall silent for a moment.
“Y’know, I was run out of P0nyville as well, so I can sympathize with you here.”
>”You were run out? For what?”
“They wanted the dick, but I wouldn’t give it to them.” You make exaggerated pelvic thrusts and Gilda breaks down laughing. 
>”You’re a funny guy, Mister…?”
“Anonymous, but my friends call me Anon. So, you’re stuck with calling me Anonymous for now.”
>”Huh, I can’t see you having too many friends to call you Anon anyway.”
“That was a low blow, Gilda.”
>”Yeah, well it’s a good thing there’s nothing down there to damage.”
>You grin. 
“I like you, Gilda. You remind me of myself, if I was half as tall, much uglier and a chick.”
>You both laugh for a moment, before Gilda starts walking away from you. 
“Hey, what gives?”
>”I’m heading back to my shithole of an apartment, to drink stupid amounts of beer and dull the emotional pain.”
“Everything about that except the beer sounds bad, but you can count me in.”
>”I don’t remember inviting you.” Gilda attempts to sound serious but she can’t control her smile. 
“Yeah, I have a habit of not caring about others, it’s why I’m loved so much. Wait, loved isn’t the right word, unquestionably loathed is.”
>Gilda raises an eyebrow, strangely cute. “You seem like an interesting guy Anon… so, are you coming back or not?”
“Hell yeah!”
>”Ok then, but you’re sharing that steak.”
“Over my dead body.”
>The two of you laugh and walk down the street in tandem, both internally grateful of the company. 

>Uuuugh.
>You didn’t get drunk last night, you got beat up by Snowflake and Iron Will… wait, where the hell are you?
>You lean forward, feeling a wing slide across your chest. 
>You clear your head and notice you’re in a shabby apartment, light pouring in through a window, illuminating the room, and its occupants. 
>You look to your side to see Gilda sleeping, one of her wings draped across your naked chest.
>Wait a minute, naked?
>You throw off the blanket and your heart sinks. No trousers, no boxers, no nothing. 
>Oh good God, did you fuck a griffon last night?
>”Morning” Gilda says sleepily, slowly stretching out.
“Fuck you.”
>”Yeah, you did.” She murmurs, a wide grin on her face. 
>Well.
>Time for suicide.

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