Title: Bit & Smidget: Kinslayer Author: Bronitz Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/BiUhZwRL First Edit: Friday 6th of April 2012 05:45:42 AM CDT Last Edit: Friday 6th of April 2012 05:45:42 AM CDT Bit & Smidget: Kinslayer StrangeCreed 04/03/12(Tue)20:57 No.1022748   >you are now Hurples the fluffy unicorn >life is great >every day you get to run around in the sunshine, play with string and your big orange ball >you even see other fluffy ponies through the fence! >when you run out, they always watch you playing >they're blue and don't have a horn, but they're still fluffy ponies and you wanna be their friend >you can't tell why, but they even know your name! >if they know your name they have to be friendly >the games they try to play are aren't very fun, but you don't mind >you still remember something bad though >the blue meanie that put the ouchies on your face >you don't want to give that fluffy pony hugs >one day, while trotting around to nowhere really, you see a blue unicorn through a hole in the fence >something makes your face feel funny looking at him but it could be an extra big smile >he's smiling too, so that's nice! >aw shit, nigga you gonna give him a big ol' hug >you run as fast as you can >of course, you are still a fluffy pony and trip over your limbs, knocking your horn on the wood >your fluffy brain is rattled >you are once again Bit, and pissed that your guillotine trap went off early   ***   >you hurry to reset the blade, but Hurples's new owner is already coming to see if he's okay >the guillotine is left sprung, but you partially climb through the hole Hey there, little guy, comin' to play with Audie? >"Who is Audie?" Our fluffy unicorn. >he renamed the little womb-turd, and it still doesn't know it >you repress your desire to just try to burn the retard with your spray of sparks, but alas, the neighbor picks him up Did you see what happened? >"He hit his head on da fence." >he's completely comatose, drooling slightly Heh, guess he really wanted to play, didn't he? >the neighbor strides back to his house, and you lament your failure >in retrospect, the guillotine would have been a little obvious, so it's probably for the best >maybe Smidget can point out some of those poisonous berries if she were to see some more? >your mind a broil with fresh schemes, you walk slowly towards the house as your two children continue to play tag >when you first heard that you had reproduced, you thought you'd be coating your hooves in foal brains, but Moon and Star are wonderful >unfortunately, you hear that the master wants may give them away >regrettable, but he usually does know best >you step through your doggy door, out of the hot spring air and into the chill near darkness of kitchen >the fluff keeps you alive, but it is often inconvenient >Smidget is busy, folding t-shirts with her mouth and hooves >you reflect fondly on how absolutely superior you are over all other fluffy ponies >maybe Moon and Star leaving could have... longer ranging effects   >you just trot on by, but your legs stop when you hear the childish babbling of another fluffy pony from the living room >the master sits with a friend, who apparently saw fit to bring his own fluffy pony over >you do not smile, but smirk when the fools attempt to hug you causes it to choke on its leash >trot on by, turn on the tv >you've been trying to broaden your learning, but the so-called "documentary" channels are garbage >what do lumberjacks have to do with history anyway? Hey Bit, my friend doesn't believe how smart you are. Care to demonstrate? >you grin widely at the chance to prove yourself, but can't think of how exactly to DO it... >the friend pipes up, "Hell, I'd be impressed if he could count to five." >this... insults you somewhat, but you begin reciting your numbers, continuing until YOUR ego is satisfied >the man begins asking mathematical question, and you oblige him >tiring of this game, you go a head and ask, "Can you take Smidget and I fo' walkies? I'm tired of the backyard." >even if you don't need a leash, you still need him around >not all humans like fluffy ponies, and dogs sure as hell don't like them >Smidget trots in, wrapped in a Dead Milkmen shirt, "I have a pwobwem." >you wonder to yourself if that was intentional as your owner and his friend put on their shoes >thus begins the walkies of death   >you both stay ahead of the humans and the other fluffy >informing Smidget of you plan, she's hardly cooperative >"I'm gwad he's not wiving wif us any mo', but I dun wanna hewp you kiww Hurples." >why she's so attached to that mistake you cannot understand >still, she told you about green berries, and if they were growing in the park they had to have been from somewhere >of course, you'd still have to gather them in secret... >but that's later! >for now, you're just going to have a nice, relaxing walk with Smidget and your master