You slowly stirred and regained consciousness, bringing an unfortunate end to the awesome dream you were having about you and George Washington fighting off an alien invasion, all while riding on a robotic t-rex.

Life is suffering.

You attempted to sit up, only to find yourself unable to move a single muscle. Upon a quick examination of your surroundings, you found yourself surrounded by pure darkness, which you were unable to make anything out in. You couldn't feel anything either, save for a pounding headache.

Your memory was pretty hazy as well, and you couldn't seem to recollect much of anything, let alone how you got in your current situation.

All you could seem to remember was a strong love for the booty.

You struggled to remember something about yourself, or how you wound up in this dark abyss, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't remember a single thing.

Finally, you remembered something. A name.

Your name was Anonymous, or Anon for short. Across the galaxy, you were known and feared by the title Anonymous, Destroyer of Cunts. Women wanted to be with you, and men wanted to be you.

Well, you liked to pretend that was the case.

As you remembered your name, more details about yourself began to pop up. You lived in Ponyville, in a cheap one bedroom apartment, being one of the few humans in town (the other two being a volunteer janitor named Scruffy and a Cuban midget named Paco who's always getting into trouble), and worked at Sweet Apple Acres as an 'Apple Picker/Sorter Specialist'.

You also, on occasion, worked the streets when you needed to make some extra change. Mares love that hot monkey dick.

Everything started to come back to you, but you couldn't seem to recall exactly what you were doing in this seemingly endless void of darkness.

Were you dead or something?

Did you divide by zero?

Did it finally happen?

Oh wait, your eyes were closed.

Your eyes shot open as soon as this realization hit you, only to be met by a blinding light. You immediately attempted to shield your eyes, but found that you were restrained. You glanced down to see what was immobilizing you, and saw that you were bound to a chair.

You grimaced and tried to fight through the headache. You attempted to remember exactly how you managed to get in this situation, but anything you could remember was just a blur.

The last thing you could remember correctly was everything suddenly going black as you were making your way home with this one mare and Big Mac-

!

SHIT.

You shot your head about frantically as you searched for your bro, your eyes having adjusted to the light and allowing you to examine your surroundings. You appeared to be in a run down bathroom, surrounded by sinks, urinals, and bathroom stalls, with a single television in the middle of the room.

You briefly wondered how ponies could actually use a urinal, but you quickly banished those thoughts. There are more pressing matters at hand. Your bro is no where to be seen.

Once you got free, it'd be your duty to find-

Oh no, wait, he was actually right next to you.

You glanced over to your right and spotted Big Macintosh, bound in chair just like you. He's awake, calmly staring at the wall in front of him, appearing only slightly annoyed.

"Yo bro, you alright?"

He glanced your way and nodded. "Eeyup."

"Know how we got in here?"

"Eenope."

"Fuck."

You leaned back in your chair and heaved out an exasperated sigh. To think, you could be at home getting drunk off your ass and watching hardcore Germane dungeon porn right now.

!

The television before them suddenly flickered to life. Through the heavy static, you could make out the silhouette of a pony leering at the two of you.

"Would you like to play a game?" the pony inquired in a raspy voice, sounding just like a stereotypical villain from an overrated a movie series.

Your sleep was violently robbed from you by a loud knocking at the door. You groaned as you sat up, before glancing over to the clock that hung from the nearby wall.

It was half past noon.

"Fuck. It's too early for this."

You hopped up from the spot where your ass had drunkenly passed out the previous evening after a long night of partying hard and booty hunting. You glared at the door where the knocking had emanated from, before you stumbled your way through your collection of empty beer bottles covering the floor and flung the door open.

"Hi Anon!" three voices sang, the loudness of their shrill cry almost making you cover your ears.

You glanced down at the three fillies that stood at the door, who looked up at you with expectant smiles.

"I don't want to buy anything," you muttered, before leaning in and whispering, "Well... if you have the Krabby Patty secret formula, I'd be more than willing to take it off your hands..."

"You're so silly, Anon. We don't want to sell you anything," the white filly of the three - Sweaty Belt, if you recalled correctly - said, which completely shot down your hopes and dreams.

How you gonna put a nigga down like that?

"Yeah dude," the crippled pony, Scottaloo, spoke up, "we were wondering if you could help us find our cutie marks."

You stood back up and looked at the fillies - who were now giving you the saddest puppy eyes you have ever seen - with a raised brow.

"Nope."

You slammed the door on them and made your way to the bathroom.

After having pissed up a storm, you exited the bathroom, only to hear more pounding at your front door.

You walked up to the door. "Who's that knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door?"

You opened the door, expecting more kids trying to sell your secret formulas.

Or Mormons.

Or, even worse, Jehovah's Witnesses.

Them niggas were persistant.

Nope. It was your bro's hot sister, Applejack.

"Howdy, A-"

She paused mid sentence, her eyes widened as she took you in.

"Uh, Anon, ya got wood."

?

You glance down, and sure enough, you were at full mast. It would appear you forgot to put clothes on, once again. I mean, who could blame you?

Everyone loves to feel the breeze between their knees.

"Huh... so I do..." you responded, before you gave the mare your attention once more, "So, what's up?"

"Well... uh..." the stetson sporting mare attempted to avoid your morning wood, but it seemed to follow her everywhere she looked, "Big Mac sent me ta come-"

"HAH!"

She raised a brow at your behavior, but continued. "He sent me ta come tell ya ta meet up with him at the farm. He's a bit busy with work at the moment... Though, Ah don't see how inviting ya over is gonna help him any..."

"Aight. I'll be right over."

Applejack still stood there, unable to take her eyes off your wood.

"You wanna come inside or something...? I swear it doesn't bite."

Somehow, the mare's eyes widened even more, her mouth agape as she took in your offer.

"SeeyalaterAnon," the flustered mare said in one breath, before she quickly made her exit.

You watched her flee, your soldier refusing to stand down as you took in her majestic booty.

You hated to watch her leave, but you just loved to see her-

"NICE COCK YOU GOT THERE, BRAH!" Lyra, one of your homies, called out as she was passing by, interrupting your internal ramblings about the booty.

"THANKS BRO!" you returned the call.

"WE STILL ON FOR TONIGHT, BROSEPH STALIN!?" she inquired, making her way over to you.

"HELL YEAH, BROSEIDON! I'D NEVER LEAVE A BRO BEHIND!"

"NO BROS LEFT BEHIND, BRAH!"

"FUCK YEAH!"

The two of you gave each other a chest bump: the only way true bros should greet each other. It got a little weird when your tip hit her in the stomach, but you were bros, so the two of you could give less of a fuck.

"Catch you at the Salty Sailor tonight, brah," she said, "I'm gonna drink you under a fucking table."

"Bitch, you can never keep up with me. I am the champion of alcoholism, my friend."

"Whatever you say, brah. Catch you on the flip."

The two of you waved good bye to each other before she continued on her way.

Damn, today felt like it was gonna be a good day. Hell, you doubted you'd even have to use your AK.

After you threw on some Apple Spice and pounded down a cold one, you exited your shitty apartment and began to whistle dixie as you casually walked away.

"NICE COCK, ANON!" your landlord called out to you as you walked out your front door.

!

You looked down, and realized you forgot to throw some clothes on.

"Shit."

You made your way back inside to fix your mistake and throw on some stylish duds, before you left your apartment behind once more.

As you strutted your stuff through Ponyville, you earned the attention of one of the fillies from earlier. She quickly galloped over to you, probably about do or say something that was really gonna fuck with your feng shui.

"Howdy Anon!" she greeted as she trotted up alongside you. You recognized her as Big Mac's youngest sister. You couldn't quite remember her name, though you figured it probably started with Apple.

You pondered this for a few moments, before you remembered her name.

"APPLEBUMM!" you exclaimed as the answer finally came to you.

She looked at you, confused. "Uh... I'm sorry? My name's Apple Bloom, Anon."

"Fuck," you grumbled under your breath, "What's up little homie?"

"What's up? The struggle is what's up."

You regarded the little earth pony with a raised brow. "The struggle?"

"Yeah! The girls and Ah need to discover our special talents so we can get our cutie marks. Only... it's not going so well."

You stopped and took a knee so you can be at eye level with the small filly. "You're going about this all wrong, young one."

"Ah am?"

"Yup," you nodded sagely, "taking a shot in the dark with every little thing you can think of isn't gonna get you anywhere."

Apple Bloom raised a brow in confusion. "Then how will we get our cutie marks?"

You smirked. "You don't gotta wait, just go get a couple tats on your ass so everyone will think you’ve got your cutie mark. Hard work won't get you anywhere, lil' dude. Only shortcuts and being lazy. I mean, that's how I took on life, and look at me now."

You took a step back and held your arms open wide, so that the little filly could bask in your glorious perfection.

She merely smirked, though.

"But Anon, ya live in a bad apartment and always smell like booze. Ah don't think Ah've ever seen ya sober."

"And I couldn't be happier," you said with a big ass smile as you messed with the filly's mane, before you stood back up, "Listen to my advice, kid. You'll go places."

"Ah'll consider it. See ya round!"

You smiled to yourself as you watched her wander off. You're such a great role model.

Not really. Quite frankly you shouldn't even be allowed near kids. Your advice will probably get somebody killed.

That is if it hasn’t already.

You kept on truckin’, greeting anybody you came across like the Fonz. Most ponies looked at you strangely, but a few, likely other followers of the Fonz, responded in kind. That one clusterfuck of animal parts guy even magicked up a leather jacket, a pair of sunglasses, and some greasy hair, before he trailed off into a long "ayy" as you passed each other by.

He was a pretty cool guy.

"ANONYMOUS!"

!

There was no mistaking that voice.

You spun around towards the source of the shrill cry and pointed a finger towards the creature who dared try to put a stop to your dicking around.

"I KNEW YOU'D FOLLOW ME HERE, JANITOR! I HAVE SOME NEWS FOR YOU FATTY, THERE AIN'T NO HOT POCKETS IN EQUESTRIA!"

"W-what?" the purple alicorn you pointed at stuttered out, "It's me, Twilight!"

You soon calmed down and let out a sigh of relief. "Well, that's a relief. You're a buzzkill, Sparklebutt, but at least you're not a janitor on the internet."

"I'm not a buzzkill!" she protested, as she crossed her hooves and pouted, doing her best to avoid eye contact with you.

"Bitch please, the last time I invited you to a party, you ended up ticketing everybody ‘cause the party went on past curfew."

"There's something called noise ordinances, Anonymous," Twilight stated as she leered at you, "you should be mindful of others."

"Everybody within a block’s radius was there, Sparklebutt," you pointed out with a smirk.

"The law's the law, and as a princess, it's my job to enforce it. And stop calling me Sparklebutt," she cried as she grew more and more flustered every second she was around you.

"But the way you react is soooo cute," you retorted in a baby voice as you pinched the princess's fuzzy cheeks, "how could I resist?"

She pushed you off her and cleared her throat. "We're way off topic, Anonymous. You haven't been in for your weekly friendship sessions for almost a month now."

You groaned and rolled your eyes. Sparklebutt and her fucking friendship sessions... they are so fucking boring, just you and her spending hours studying and talking about feelings.

She doesn't even let you drink to spice things up.

"Shit's just not for me," you said, flatly.

"But Anon, you promised you'd do it! It was something we agreed to do when you first showed up in Equestria."

"Yeah, well, they're boring as hell. Unless you wanna ditch the talking and reading for partying and bar fights, I'm not going."

Twilight went quiet as she scratched her chin in thought.

Moments later, she lightened up, apparently coming to a decision.

"Alright Anonymous, clearly my ways aren't for you. So I'll be willing to give your ways a chance, so long as you learn something about the magic of friendship."

"FUCK YEAH, BRO! LET'S GO GET TURNT-"

You halted your cheer as you remembered the reason why you weren't already at home, sitting around in the nude, drinking beer, and shitposting on Ponychan. Your compadre still awaited your arrival.

"Gotta take a rain check on that friendship session, Sparklebutt. Next time, though."

"B-but," she protested as her lips began to quiver.

Damn, you actually kinda felt bad...

BUT NO MATTER, YOUR BRO AWAITS.

"Igottagothanksbye," you said in one breath before you skipped off in the general direction of Sweet Apple Acres.

You made your way up the familiar path that led up to Sweet Apple Acres with a skip in your step. Besides your shitty apartment and the Salty Sailor, this was one of your favorite places to come to.

Well, unless you were on the clock. Work fucking sucks.

Gotta get that change though.

You glanced about as you got closer and closer to the distant farmhouse. This was actually where you first showed in Equestria, where you somehow awoke in the middle of the orchard after a long night of partying back on Earth. You then met the stallion who would end up being your best bro, who originally mistook you for a thief and knocked you the fuck the out before you even knew what was happening.

Good times.

As you approached the farmhouse, you spotted the Apple family's matriarch in her rocking chair on the front porch.

"Yo Granny," you greeted her as you walked up to the porch.

"Yer late!" she bellowed.

You regarded her with a raised brow. "Dude, it's my day off."

"DAY OFF?! Boy, back in my day..."

As she trailed off, you took this opportunity to move on and made your way towards the barn. She typically forgot that she was even talking to anybody anyways.

You searched about the barn, but despite your efforts, you found no sign of your bro anywhere.

"About time ya showed up," you heard Applejack comment from behind you, "and with pants no less! Ah'm impressed."

You turned around to face the mare. "You don't even wear clothes. Why do you care?"

A small giggle escaped the mare's lips. "Cuz yer dangly bits don't retract like a stallions, sugarcube."

"Gross. Do you know where Big Mac is?"

"He's out working in the-"

"WHAT?!"

"Ah said, he's out working in the-"

"WHAT?!"

"COULD YA STOP DOING THAT?!" Applejack demanded, growing tired of your Lil’ Jon impression.

"YEEEEEAH!"

She releases a frustrated sigh. "Big Mac's working in the western orchard."

"OKAY!"

"Yer a strange one, Anon."

"WHAT?!"

"Ah said yer a- forget it. See ya round, Anon."

"BYE NIGGA!"

You waved good bye to the orange pony, then began to moonwalk in the general direction of the western orchard. It's hard on the dirt road, but you’ve already started, and don't want to disappoint the spirit of Michael Jackson.

Besides, you got skills. Bitches love skills.

About ten minutes into your journey, your ears picked up the sound of hooves bucking against bark and apples falling into the collection bins below.

!

You moonwalked straight into your bro, which caused you to topple over and bring the stallion down with you. You begged the good lord Jackson for his forgiveness as you tumbled to the earth.

"Anon! What in Sam Hill are you doing?!" he demanded as he shoved you off of him.

You briefly wondered how a pony would know that phrase, but you chalk it up to the writers being too lazy to make up a ponified version.

"What am I doing?! Nigga, I'm stylin’ on you! That's what I'm doing," you answered, before you sat up, "Check this out."

You leapt up from the ground and began to moonwalk away from your compadre.

"WOAH! SHAMONA!"

You did a spin and grabbed your nuts, then thrust your hips forward.

"HEEEEEHEEEE!"

You pause, looking to Big Mac for approval.

He gives you a deadpan look, before he placed a single straw of hay in between his teeth.

"Weirdo."

"Yeah, but I'm your weirdo, buddy,"

"Whatever ya say, Anon," he said, likely as he asked himself why even bothered to hang out with you, "ya pumped for tonight?"

"Of coursh!" you proclaimed with a slight lisp like a certain mask wearing big guy would.

"Could ya help me with these apples so we can get out of here quicker?"

"Sure bro."

You grabbed a couple bins and left the rest to your compadre, before you made your way back to the barn with your homie right behind you.

As the two of you ditched your load in the barn for you to sort when you eventually got back to working, Big Mac's big-booty-toting sister trotted in.

"Howdy Big Mac! Ya finished for the day?"

"Eeyup," he responded as the two of you turn towards her.

"Good ta hear. You and Anon gonna go do something?"

"Eeyup."

"So what are ya guys gonna do?"

"Oh, you know," you spoke up, helping out your reserved friend, "go to the Salty Sailor with Lyra, get wasted, cause some bar fights, and engage in debauchery with some young, promiscuous mares. Typical Saturday night."

"Sounds like ya guys have a pretty decent evening ahead of ya," Applejack said with a grin, "mind if Ah tag along? Ah’ve been Feelin’ a bit cooped up, ya know?"

"Ah don't know AJ... trouble just loves to find us..." Big Mac warned.

The mare pouted. "Ah'm a grown mare, Ah don't need ya babying me. Ah can handle myself."

"She'll be fine, homie," you assured your bro, "until I drink her under a table, that is."

The mare regarded you with a smirk. "Is that a challenge?"

You returned the smirk. "Maybe."

"Ya don't know what yer gettin' yerself into, Anon," she said, "Ah'll catch ya two there."

With that, she made her exit.

You bit into your bottom lip as your watched her go. God damn! That booty was something that deserved to be worshipped. It was basically perfect in every way, after years of toning from her work on the farm.

One day, you would conquer that booty. You promised yourself this. You've seen, felt, and fucked many booties, but that's the booty you'd gladly spend the rest of your life with.

"Uh... Anon," Big Mac spoke up, interrupting your fantasies of growing old with Applejack's ass, "are ya staring at mah sister's ass?"

You looked at the red stallion like a certain balding, baseball bat wielding comedian. "Nigga, who doesn't stare at that ass?"

You and your bro hung around the farm while you waited for the evening to come around, drinking a shit ton of cider and putting your creative minds together to create an official 2014 Ponyville Booty Power Ranking list.

"Anon, why is mah sister number one on this?"

"Shut up, we're in the middle of a time skip bro."

"A what?"

As the two of you put the finishing touches on the official 2014 Ponyville Booty Power Ranking list, you glanced out the window and noticed that the sun had began to set, a signal that the day was coming to an end.

!

"OH SHIT!"

You launched up from your seat like a crazy loonatic, which earned a confused look from your bro.

"What?"

"IT'S TIME!"

Big Mac glanced over to a nearby clock, before he turned his gaze back to you and calmly nodded.

"Eeyup."

You ran towards the door and did a front flip through it. You narrowly avoided crushing Applebloom as she wandered in... only to land face first like a dumbass.

“Hey AB,” you greeted the filly as you looked up to her from your position on the ground, “you decide take my advice?”

“Well… uh…” she began as she shuffled around awkwardly, “Ah tried to get a tattoo, but they told me Ah was too young.”

“Bullshit!” you bellowed as you rose up from the dirt, “go in there, lay your balls out on the table, and tell them to do it.”

“But Anon, Ah don’t have any balls!”

“Not with that attitude you don’t.”

You patted the small filly on the head and walk past her.

...only to stop in your steps.

She failed you...

This bitch needed to learn a lesson.

“HEY APPLEBUTT!”

She turned towards you, and you flipped her off. She grimaced and turned back away to leave.

“No, no, I’m just kidding, c’mere, AB.”

As the filly turned back around, you jumped back, grabbed your crotch, and thrusted your hips forward.

“HEEEEEEEEE!”

Apple Bloom’s eyes widened in shock as you span in place and began to bust a move, Micheal Jackson style.

You danced like a skilled monkey for a good five minutes, as you dazzled the small filly with a flurry of moonwalking, pelvic thrusts, spins, and flips.

Damn you’re good.

You stopped and wiped the sweat from your forehead, before you pointed to the filly. “You just got served!”

The filly’s smug expression turned to one of horror as she took in these words. As her lips quivered and her eyes began to water, you turned away from the crying filly and faced your bro.

“You ready to get out of here, bro?”

“Eeyup.”

“Let’s fucking roll.”

You jumped onto your bro’s back, pointing in the general direction of Ponyville. “Onwards, my steed!”

Big Mac looked back at you, his face displaying a mixture of anger, shock, and confusion. “...Anon, mind telling me why you’re on mah back?”

You laughed at his reaction, much to his dismay. “Cuz I’m the one who’s always dragging your drunk ass home. Now… FORWARD!”

“Get off me, Anon.”

“Ugh... fine! God, you’re no fun.”

After much dicking around, you and your compadre finally made it to Lyra’s apartment.

There was much rejoicing.

As it so happened, her apartment happened to be right next to yours. For some reason, you always forget the two of you are neighbors.

Probably because rampant drinking kills brain cells.

You knocked on the door and casually stood back as you waited for the mare to answer.

“Who's that knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door?” you heard Lyra call from the other side of the door.

“I just said that this morning, you crazy bitch!”

The door unlocked, and the aquamarine unicorn mare exited her tiny apartment with a goofy grin on her face.

“WAAAAAAAZZUUUUUUUUUUP?!” she exclaimed.

“WAAAAAAAAAAAZZUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP?!” you responded in kind, before you gave your female bro a bro bump.

Satisfied with your greeting, she turned towards Big Mac. “Yo, how ya doing Mac?”

“Fine.”

“You pumped for tonight?”

“Eeyup.”

“You’re certainly very talkative tonight,” she commented as she slung a hoof around the stallion’s neck, “aren’t ya?”

Big Mac sent a glare the mare’s way. “Ever get tired of busting mah balls, Lyra?”

“Nah,” she responded as she shook her head, “not really.”

The red stallion’s glare faded and morphed into a grin. “Ya done?”

“Yeah, just about. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The three of you left behind the apartment complex and began to make your way into town. As you and your comrades strutted your stuff through Ponyville, you found yourself engaged in an intellectual debate with the one mare in your party. A debate that would surely go down in history as the greatest debate of all time.

“I’m telling you, Twilight’s clearly the kinkiest princess. Those librarian’s are always into kinky shit because they’re so pent up.”

“Bullshit. Twilight might be a pent up virgin, but Cadance is the Princess of LOVE. I would think the Princess of Love would know how to please a stallion.”

“That may be true, but you can’t beat a mare who spends a decent portion of her time reading erotic novels and watching porn for ‘studying purposes’.”

“LOVE DUDE, LOVE!”

You rolled your eyes and glanced over to Big Mac. “You got anything to add to this?”

He looked at you with a raised brow, before he shook his head.

“Come on, bro, I know you have something you can throw in.”

“Well…” he began to say, “Ah have ta say yer both wrong. Truly, the kinkiest princess title belongs ta Princess Luna.”

“...how do you figure that?” Lyra asked.

“Experience,” he answered simply.

Oh yeah, Big Mac gets around. It’s like he swam around in some toxic waste that gave him ultra pimpin’ powers. There wasn’t a single mare out there that wouldn’t fall for him.

Including princesses.

“Alright man, I’ll bite,” you spoke up, “how was it?”

“She’s a fan of tentacles,” he answered with a shudder.

“Dude, is your ass okay?” the aquamarine unicorn inquired.

“Eeyup… it was just really slimey…”

“Was the ass fat?” you asked.

“The ass was fat,” Big Mac responded with a nod, “greatest flank Ah’ve had the pleasure of sharing a bed with.”

“...not as good as your sister’s ass, though.”

“Anon, Ah swear ta-”

“Oh yeah, dude,” Lyra suddenly jumped in on the action, “Bro, Applejack’s ass is so fucking cash.”

“Fuck, I’ve seen some asses in my day, and her ass is like a piece of art. Great tone, great hips, and she’s got that hip sway that just makes you wanna sit back and watch that ass all day long. Unf.”

“It’s the perfect ass,” the mare said with a sagely nod.

“I want to use Applejack’s ass as a pillow and take a nap,” you state.

“I want beat on her ass like a set of drums.”

“I want to cum inside-”

“Guys, could ya stop talking about mah sister like that?”

The two of you fell silent due to Mr. No Fun Allowed.

For like two seconds.

"Applejack's ass though," you commented.

"Unf," Lyra replied.

"UNF!"

"UNF!"

"UNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNF!"

"Dear Celestia... come on guys, how would ya'll feel if I talked about your sister's ass in front of ya?"

"Meh, I wouldn't care."

"I have a sister?"

"...just... please?"

“Fine… but only because we’re here,” you say as the three of you approach the Salty Sailor, “we can continue this based-tier conversation when we get some booze in our system.”

Big Mac rolled his eyes and decided to just drop it, having figured it wasn’t worth the effort.

The three of you filed into the bar, ready for all of the heavy drinking, bar fights, and drunken sexual deviance that would soon follow.

It was just another Saturday night here in Ponyville.