The Trial of Omar Du'Quan - Dirty Shed Timeline

ORIGINALLY POSTED BY: Anonymous

CONTINUED BY: SecureTripcodeJerk!!X08v3TCEmkn

 

READ THIS TIMELINE FIRST, APPLEJACK RAPE SECOND.

 

>You step in to the hallway to claim your PUSS-A when you trip over a lead chain.

"I got the black'un girls! Now let's bring im' to the shed before my sister sees me." The small orange pony says.

"AW HELL NAW! I AIN' GOIN' TA NO SHED!" The nigger screams

>You fight with the chain holding your body still as a garden how is thrown at your head.

"You aren't going anywhere!" A pure white pony screamed.

 

 

>You wake up in a dark shed smelling of dank and downtown Detroit.

 

>Your head is bleeding and those bastards shoved a pole up your ass to keep you from squirming.

>But you've been in worse.

>I mean, downtown Brooklyn after dark.

 

"Fuuuuuuugggggg..." you groan.

>"Hey, Applebloom! He's waking up!" says cracka pone.

>"AH! AHBOUT TAHME!"

>"DO YALL' KNOW HOW LAWNG WE'VE BEEN'A SITTIN HERE WAITIN' FER YA TA WAKE UP?!"

>"WE NEED'TA GIVE YALL YER FINAL RITES!"

 

>Fucking honkies and their fucking beliefs.

>At least you'll go to ACTUAL HEAVEN when you die this time.

 

>"Scootaloo, fetch me mah' Celestial bahble!"

>"Ahem, now... Accordin' ta this here ticket, good for one free admission to ah' tour of castle Canterlot..."

 

>God damn it.

 

>"...Creatures ahv' white are under Celestia's domaine..." states Applebloom.

>"...while creatures ahv' black are property ahv' Luna."

>"Well... We don' take KINDLY' to Luna round' these parts......"

 

>"Domain"

>"Property"

>Gee, what racist fuck wrote this book.

>You mean, "admit one - bigot"

"Fuckin' ponies gun' always be tryin' keep'a nigga down."

 

>"HUSH UP, YOU... UH.." stammers the yellow pony.

 

>*wha'did he jus' callim' self?*

>*uhh.... a... a n-nigga?* replies a purple haired horse.

>...

 

>"HUSH UP, YEW NIGRA!" she shouts.

 

"Ey' man... look."

"Lemme' go, see? I really gotta' thang fo yo' kin n'shit."

"I swea' I'll care for er', man."

"But rite now? I gotta' get some remedy.."

"I gots'ta hit up sum'ya sista's sweet ass. Dig?"

 

>"...YALL........what?"

>"I...uh.. I think he said he's going to hit your sister." interjects cracka pone.

>*GASP* "YEW MOWNSTA!"

>"HOW DAYRE YEW THREATEN MAH' FAHMILY?"

 

>"SCOOTS! BRING OUT THA' ROPE!"

>Oh, shit.

>It's actually happening.

>They're gonna' lynch you!

>You're going to die!

>Again!

 

"FUGG, NO!"

"I CAIN' DIE!"

"NAWT AGAIN, DAWG."

"I NEEDS YO SISTA, AN' ER' FIRM CHEEKS!"

 

>"THE ONLY FIRM THING YOU'RE GETTING IS A TAUT ROPE AROUND YOUR NECK!" shouts the cracka pone.

 

"FUGG'YA!"

 

>You sit up, the pole in your anus lodges itself deeper in your colon.

>You could get used to being gay.

>...

>Why did you just think that?

 

>"GRAB IM'!" demands Applebloom.

 

>The purple haired horse lunges at you.

>She lands on your back, and begins pounding at your spine.

>You run backwards and slam her against the tool rack.

>Ouch, she stopped hitting you at least.

>She stopped screaming too...

>Not your problem.

 

>Summoning the power of greasy chicken, you command your internal organs to coat themselves in undigested olive oil.

>You bend over and position your black ass towards Applebloom's face.

 

>Baked beans, activate!

 

>You fart, propelling the pole in your ass out at near the speed of light.

>It strikes Applebloom through the mouth and exits through the back of her throat.

 

"HA! GATCHYA', BITCH!"

 

>You turn and face cracka pone.

>She's already begun to piss herself.

 

>You fart once more, launching yourself towards her, and the door behind her.

>Unfortunately, you failed to account for the fact she has a horn.

>As you pass over her, your collar bone catches on her horn, snapping her neck with your velocity, and splitting you in half from neck to crotch.

 

>You have broken through the door, and can see the sun.

>It is blindingly bright, blisteringly hot, and you can feel yourself fading.

>Your entrails are scattered over several yards.

 

>Just then, a golden twinkle catches your eye....

>It's a wing...

>A CHICKEN WING!

>UNDIGESTED CHICKEN, STRAIGHT FROM YOUR SMALL STOMACH!

 

>You pick it up and raise it to your mouth.

>You bite into it and savor the taste,

>The taste of bitter victory..

 

>It's time

>The pain has stopped.

>There are no more sounds.

>You can no longer taste the chicken.

 

>You see a bright light.

>Not the sun.

>It's for real this time.

 

>...

 

>*grab me that scapel*

>*Yes sir.*

>"Nurse? Blood type,"

>"AB Positive, sir."

>"Get me a bag!"

 

"Aughhhhh... fugg..."

 

>"Woah, man. Lay still."

>"Don't move a muscle, you're in terrible condition."

 

"Wha? I be... Conditioner?"

"Shiieeeeet... Do I gots' tha' flakes again?"

 

>Then the pain hits you

 

"aaaaaAAAAAARUGHHHHH! SHII'MAN!"

 

>"NURSE, ANESTHETIC!"

 

>The pain quickly subsides and you pass out.

 

>Weeks pass before you're able to walk again.

>Hordes of lawyers line up at the hospital doors, begging you for a white on black vehicular negligence case.

>Of course, you win the suit.

 

>The money is more than enough to purchase several large crack rocks, and a dozen new Nike shoes.

>Most you use to purchase deep fried chicken for the whole hood' at Kwanza later that year.

>And, just a little you set aside for a 60" plasma screen, with a lifetime Comcast subscription to the Hub.

>You tune in every Saturday and jerk off to your favorite pony.

>There was never another CMC episode for as long as you lived.

>Everything turned out perfect.

>Until Ron Paul was elected president and took away your government money.

 

End.