You and your companions quickly made your way over to the bar and grabbed your seats.

"Ayyy," the bartender greeted you as the three of you sat, being a fellow follower of the Fonz just like you.

"Sup Salty? How's business?" you inquired as you returned the greeting.

"Same as always. Fucking greedy merchants are up my ass about some non-existent debts and trying to ruin everyone's fun."

“Those mother fuckers…” Lyra grumbled under her breath.

“Sucks bro,” you commented.

"Good thing the mayor is a regular here," he said as he pointed out a grey-maned mare that sat down the bar from you, who was piss drunk and passed out, “But enough about those big snouted greedy bastards, what are you guys going to be up to tonight?”

“The same thing we do every saturday night, Salty,” you responded, “trying to take over the world."

“He means we’re gonna get wasted,” Big Mac spoke up.

“And fuck bitches,” Lyra added.

“Fuck yeah! We’re gonna get turnt the fuck up!” you declared.

“FUCK YEAH!”

“Eeyup!”

Several fist and hoof bumps were shared between the trio as Salty looked on with a mix of both amusement and disgust.

“So, what can I get you guys?”

“I dunno, whatever the readers imagine us drinking. As long as it isn’t weak shit.”

“I don’t know if the audience would be able to think of something that’d be able to match your alcoholic desires, Anon,” Lyra pointed out.

“Fuck!”

Luckily, that wasn’t the case. With some effort, the three amigos managed to down enough alcohol to get sufficiently shitfaced.

This, of course, lead to some interesting conversation.

“Honestly dude…” you began to say, your hand waving absentmindedly in the air, “the most important thing in the universe - to any person who isn’t a complete scrublord that is - is…”

You paused and glanced over to the red stallion beside you, who just stared at his glass of who knows what.

“Hey, are you even listening to me, bro?”

He looked up from his glass and glanced over to you. “Huh?”

“I said, are you even listening to me?”

“Eeyup.”

“So, do you know what it is?”

“Um… is it the heart… or apples?”

“Geez,” you muttered, “you don’t understand a thing, you tree kicking fuck.”

Before he could respond, you continued on. “It’s the behind, the flank, the ass, you dig? Guys don’t realize the charm of the behind are those who are at the kindergarten level.”

You leaned against the bar and slammed your fist against it. “It’s time the ass gets the respect it deserves.”

Big Mac gave you a look. “We don’t need to always talk about da booty, Anon.”

“Psssh… I can’t help that I’m a slave to the booty, bro. Your sister’s booty especially.”

“...we could always talk about boobies.”

“Dude, horse boobs are tiny as hell and boring. But horse ass on the other hand… fuck dude, I honestly haven’t seen any bad ass since I got here.”

Your bro remained silent for a few moments, before looking at your with a raised brow. “So… ya haven’t heard of Milky Way?”

You blinked. “Milky Way?”

The stallion gave you a look. “Filthy casual. How have ya not heard of Milky Way? She’s all over the Ponynet.”

“Why do you guys name everything after ponies?”

“Don'tcha try ta change the subject on me.”

“Dear Celestia, don’t you two talk about anything but ass?” Lyra hiccupped as she finished her fifth consecutive cider. She eyed the two boys with a harsh look. “There’s more to a mare than an ass or a set of tits. You have to take account of other lovely things. Like personality.” As she said this, she placed a hoof on her chest and raised her nose in the air.

You and Big Mac just glanced at each other, giving equal glances of what-the-fuck-ery. As soon as you had looked back at her, though, the mare began cracking up with a deep, snorting laugh.

“Hahaha, who the fuck am I kidding. You can’t fuck a personality! Am I right or am I right, boys? Let’s drink to it!”

With a chorus of “Ayy’s!” you all tilted back and obliterated the remainder of what was in your glasses.

“Mm, speaking of asses,” Lyra said as she wiped her muzzle clean, “who the hell wants to go to Canterlot tonight?”

“Canterlot? Pssh…” Big Mac rolled his eyes.

“You trying to say something, big guy?” Lyra demanded with a glare.

“Ah know a much better place than Canterlot. Something underground, exclusive, loads of fun. All the booze and loose ponies ya could ever want.”

You shot the stallion a questioning glance. “Why haven’t you brought this place up before?”

He shrugged. “Nopony asked.”

“Shit, I think you’re onto something, bro. Anything else special about this place?”

“Well… Ah know a mare there that’ll do anything for twenty bits,” he leaned in and whispered, “Anything.”

“Welp,” you said as you slammed your hand on the table, “I’m sold! When do we start?”

“Woah woah woah,” you heard a voice say from behind you. Turning around, you noticed that Applejack moseyed up to the bar, a moderately sized cider in her grip. She pulled up a stool and sat her plump rump behind down.

You noticed your pants tightened ever so violently as she joined your group at the bar.

Dat booty tho.

“What’s this Ah hear about an underground club?” she sipped at her cider and raised her eyebrows, eyeing the gang one by one.

“Apparently, Mac here can get us into an underground club. You should totally go clubbing with us!” Lyra exclaimed as she turned back around after ordering two more beers.

“Clubbing? Like the thing ya do with seals?” she asked with an eyebrow raised, “Isn’t that illegal?” Applejack looked about cautiously, before she leaned in and whispered as loud as the bar din would allow, “Ah went fruit bat clubbing once. It was amazing. But don’t tell anypony Ah said that.”

“No, dude. Clubbing, like a night club. With loud music, probably drugs, and lots of booze. Oh, and a ton of ponies looking to hook up.”

AJ scratched at her chin for a moment.

“Hmmm...”

“Yo, fuck this!” you declared as you downed the rest of your drink, not wanting to wait on the others to come to decision, “fuck all this thinking shit. Let’s just go fucking do it, man.” You rose from the bar, “Assemble, faggots, the night’s wasting away. Let’s go do something exciting!”

“Hell ya, Anon,” Big Mac rose with you, before he brought you into a drunken brohug.

“HEY BRUH’S, LET ME GET IN ON THAT SHIT!” Lyra said as she downed the rest of her cider and hopped up from her stool, before she joined in on the brohug, “I’m in, by the way.”

You looked over to the orange mare still at the bar. “So Applejack, you in, or what?”

“Eh, what the hay?” Applejack said with a shrug as she got up from her stool, “Ah suppose Ah’ll tag along with you guys.”

APPLEJACK HAS JOINED YOUR PARTY!

As this announcement rang throughout the bar, you stared at the mare expectantly, who just stood there awkwardly in response.

“Uhh…”

“He wants you to get into the brohug, bruh,” Lyra pointed out.

“Join us, Applejack. Make us whole,” you stated as you beckoned the mare towards the three of you.

She shrugged and approached the three of you, before joining your embrace.

“One of us,” you whispered.

Several seconds into the brohug, she suddenly flinched. “H-hey, who touched my flank?!”

“Totally wasn’t me,” you lied, “it was probably Lyra.”

“Yeah, it was probably me.”

You stared at the unicorn, and your bro sense connected in a split second of understanding.

“Brah.”

“Bruh.”

“Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.”

“Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.”

“What are they doing?” Applejack asked her older brother.

“Shush,” he hushed her, before he joined in, “Brooooooooooooooo.”

“Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.”

“Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.”

“Brooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.”

“Can we go now please?” Applejack inquired, suddenly becoming very worried for her mental health.

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,’ you responded.

“THE BRO RITUAL IS COMPLETE, IT’S TIME TO BRO DOWN!” Lyra announced, before the four of you broke up and made your way to the exit.

“HEY!” you heard Salty call out from the bar, “WHO’S PICKING UP THE TAB!?”

“Send it to the princesses, they pay for all my shit!” you shouted back.

The bar keep shrugged. “Whatever man, as long as I get my bits.”

Princess Luna sat at her throne, having just started her nightly duties, allowing her sister to get some well deserved rest.

Unlike her sister’s daily duties, however, her nightly duties mainly involved her sitting around on her ass drinking tea and the occasional spiked coffee. Except for the occasional monster hunt and drug addict looking for somebody to rant to at 3 AM, basically nothing happened at night.

Well… there was one thing that did always happen at night…

A piece of parchment popped into existence before the princess of the night, which she caught with her telekinesis. She opened the scroll, and quickly examined the contents.

It was a bill. More specifically, an unpaid tab from everypony’s favorite human, Anonymous, that was being left to Equestria’s taxpayers to pay.

She shrugged and approved it for payment. She didn’t quite understand why Celestia had the Equestrian taxpayers pay for every single bill the human immigrants had sent to them, but that was none of her business.

Besides, Anonymous was pretty bro-tier.

“Dude, this is so fucking boring,” Lyra moaned as Big Mac lead you and the rest of your party through the streets of the Ponyville downtown area.

“Cut it with the whining, sweetheart,” Applejack responded, shooting the unicorn a glare.

Lyra lowered her head. “This sucks…”

You glanced over to the mare. “Well… I guess sometimes you’re better off dead...”

She met your gaze and gave you that look, knowing full well what you were trying to do. “There’s a gun in your hand and it’s pointing at your head-”

“You think you’re mad, too unstable-” you sang along with the mare.

“Kicking in chairs and kicking down tables-”

“In a restaurant in a West End town-”

“Call the police, there’s a madman around-”

“Running down underground to a dive bar-”

“In a west end town!”

“IN A WEST END TOWN, A DEAD END WORLD,” the two of you sang together, “THE EAST END BOYS AND WEST END GIRLS-”

“We’re here,” Big Mac announced, which brought an abrupt end to your musical number.

You glanced around, and found yourself in front of Ponyville’s town hall, much to your confusion.

“Yo, you sure?” you inquired, “A government building doesn’t seem like the place for an underground club.”

“Ya’d be shocked, Anon,” he responded as he approached the building, before he knocked on the wall.

Actually, his knocks turned into a really catchy beat.

“Yo, dude, was that Funky Town?” you inquired.

“Shush.”

“Dude, that was totally Funky Town,” Lyra confirmed.

“Fuck yeah, man. Love that song.”

“Keep it down, guys, Ah-”

The wall shifted, immediately shutting up the red stallion. The wall rolled back, revealing a large doorway, guarded by a particularly large stallion.

“Yo, Big Mac, didn’t expect to see you here, normally you call in before you show up,” the bouncer said to your bro, “you here for business or pleasure?”

“Pleasure.”

The large stallion now noticed the rest of you standing behind Big Mac.

You flashed him a shiteating grin and a thumbs up, an action Lyra tried to replicate, only to remember she had no thumbs.

“Uhh…” he began, giving the red stallion an incredulous look, “you don’t get to bring friends.”

“They ain’t mah friends,” he responded, “they’re mah bros.”

Applejack cleared throat behind her brother, annoyed.

“...and sister…”

The bouncer nodded. “No bros left behind, Big Mac. The first commandment of the Bro Code.”

The red stallion hung his head. “Alright guys, Ah guess-”

“Hence why I’m letting you in, you idiot,” the big stallion said as he rolled his eyes, “it was kinda obvious that’s where I was going. Oh, and don’t worry, no charge for them.”

Big Mac nodded and pushed in past the bouncer, waving the rest of you to follow. After you tipped the bouncer (but not too much, because you knew you needed to keep the poor poor) and clapped in light of recent events, you followed your bro inside, the rest of your party close behind.

As your party entered the club, your eardrums were nearly blown the fuck out by the sheer volume of the music.

Smashing.

“Ayy Big Mac!” you heard a voice call out over the loud club music.

You looked for the source of the voice, and spotted a white mare with a mane of varying shades of blue trotting your way.

You didn’t know why, but she struck you as overhyped.

The two of them flashed each other a series of what appeared to be gang signs before they embraced each other.

“Yo dude, good to see you again,” the mare chirped as she broke away from him.

“Eeyup.”

“Are these your friends?” she asked, motioning over to the rest of you.

“Eeyup.”

“Yooo!” she greeted as she approached you, “I’m Vinyl, nice to meet you guys.”

“Vinyl? You mean like DJ PON-3?” you inquired.

“Guilty as charged!”

Your suspicions of her being overhyped were just confirmed.

“Damn, I love your shit!” you lied.

“Yo, thanks man,” she said with a smile, before turning back Big Mac, “yo dude, my college roommate’s at the bar. You should totally go buy her a drink or something.”

“Ah dunno… kinda came here to hang out with mah bros.”

“Nah man,” you spoke up, “go get some booty. We’ll go hit the dance floor and meet you at the bar. Besides, dancing was never really your thing anyways.”

“But-”

“Dude, seriously?” Lyra asked, “Go get some. It’d go against the Bro Code if we cockblocked you.”

“But so would choosing hoes over bros,” he pointed out.

“That only applies when we don’t give you permission, bro,” you retorted, “you’re good to go, brah.”

“Alright…” the red stallion looked over to his sister, “ya wanna chime in?”

Applejack shook her head. “Nah, it isn’t my place,” she responded, “besides, Anon and Lyra here can keep me company.”

“Yeah man, I can take care of Lyra and your sister here,” you said as you wrapped an arm around the orange mare and shot your bro a toothy grin.

He shrugged. “Alright guys, if ya insist. Just don’t get in any trouble, ya hear?”

“Awesome!” Vinyl cheered, “Come on dude, I’ll introduce you to her.”

She grabbed your bro and pulled him away, leaving only you, Lyra, and Applejack.

Oh well, it was good to be the center of attention once more.

“Yo… Anon…” you heard Lyra whisper to you, which managed to be loud enough to be able to hear over the music, somehow.

“Sup?”

“What was with that little fangirl impression back there?” she asked as she gave you a look, “you and I both know you hate her music.”

“Because that booty game is easily the best in the room, brah,” you replied.

“But the Official 2014 Ponyville Booty Power Ranking says that-”

“I KNOW WHAT IT SAYS, brah, but I can’t outright speak the truth in from of present company, can I?”

“Nah, Ah don’t mind,” Applejack said, weaseling her way into the conversation, “what are ya’ll discussin’?”

“Who would win in a fight between Mr. Rogers and Jesus,” you replied quickly, dodging the bullet. Lyra nodded in approval in response to your quick thinking.

“Now that there is an interesting one…” she said as she rubbed her chin in thought, “Ah mean, Mr. Rogers is a secret badass, but would it be enough ta take on Jesus’s kung-fu grip action? Ah dunno Anon, but it keeps me up at night…”

You blinked as you looked at the orange earth pony like the first time you gazed upon her glorious ass.

She caught your stare, and examined you with an inquisitive glance. “Anon, are ya-”

“Can I, like, marry you or something?” you blurted out.

You instinctively reached for your pockets, expecting spaghetti to be flowing freely out of them.

“Ah beg your pardon?”

“Smooth,” Lyra commented, a smirk across her face.

“Nothing. Sorry, you just said something really awesome.”

She giggled. “Shucks Anon, yer gonna make me blush.”

You caught Lyra silently clapping out of the corner of your eye in response to your recovery. You’re starting to feel like you’re in the Matrix with all the bullets you’re dodging.

Maybe you were.

“How can mirrors be real if our eyes aren’t real?” you blurted out.

“What?” the country mare inquired.

You’re pretty sure marinara was flowing steadily from your pockets now. Not even a steady supply of garlic bread could mop up this mess.

Thinking on your feet, you quickly corrected yourself. “I said, are you into dancing?”

Smooth.

“Are ya asking me to dance, Anon?”

“My name’s Neo,” you corrected her, voice grim.

“Huh?”

“Sorry, just fucking with you.”

Sweatingman.jpg

“Yer a strange one, Anon.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Ya didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh yeah… yeah, I guess I am asking you to dance. But I have one question for you first…”

“What’s that?”

“Do you know how to safety dance?”

“Of course Ah do… though it really isn’t that safe…”

“What’s life without a little risk?”

You grabbed the two mares and pulled them onto the dance floor. As you pushed through the crowd, you waved over to the DJ. He waved back, before he replaced the current vinyl with a new one.

Soon after, Safety Dance began to play.

“Anon, how the hell did ya manage to set that up? You were standing there the whole time.”

“In the Matrix, anything is possible,” you replied sternly.

“What?”

“DANCE BITCH!”

Utilizing the skills that were blessed upon you by Michael Jackson, the Patron Saint of Dance, you began to do the Safety Dance. Your two companions attempted to keep up with your flurry of movements, but they were truly no match for your expert dance skills.

“We can dance if we want to!” you sang along to the lyrics as you danced.

“We can leave your friends behind!” Lyra chimed in.

“Cuz yer friends don’t dance and if they don’t dance-” Applejack sang with that adorable accent of hers.

“Well they’re no friends of mine!” you finished.

“Yo, dude, I just got a sudden case of deja vu,” Lyra commented.

“Considering how lazy and uncreative the writer is, this scene was probably stolen from an earlier work,” you pointed out.

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

The three of you continued to dance drunkenly to your heart’s content throughout the night. With your combined efforts, you managed to dazzle the entire dance floor. Ponies even cheered you and your merry band of faggots on at times.

Damn, it’s felt good to be gangster.

“Yo guys, I’m getting kinda tired of dancing,” Lyra spoke up, “wanna hit the bar?”

This was, of course, blasphemy. It was written down in the Fonz Bible’s Book of Ayy that anybody who dared interrupt the dancing of an individual blessed by the Patron Saint of Dance before he/she was finished was to be struck down on the spot.

However, while the Book of Ayy is a holy and sacred text, there was no text more holy and sacred than the Bro Code. The Bro Code conflicted with this, because if a bro asked you to do something, you were supposed to agree to it, or at least politely deny it if the favor was not within your tastes or an impossible task for you.

Besides, you’d gladly sin for your bro regardless.

“Sure brah, I’m starting to sober up anyways,” you answered.

As you began to make your way off the dance floor, you felt something brush up against your side. You glanced down and spotted Applejack at your side, looking up at you with a smirk.

“Ya still have yet ta drink me under a table, pardner.”

“If you feel like dying of alcohol poisoning, you’re welcome to try to beat me.”

Applejack hmphed. “Were it so easy, Anon.”

You and your companions moseyed your way over to bar. As you closed in on the bar, you spotted Big Mac sitting on his lonesome.

You hopped on the stool next to him and slapped him on the back. “Sup brah?”

“Nothin’ much, Anon,” he replied, morose.

“Where’s the mare?”

“Bathroom.”

Applejack hopped on the stool beside yours, much to Lyra’s annoyance. “Anon, Ah’m callin’ ya out.”

“Oh?”

“Yah. Ah think yer all talk, sugarcube. Ya’ve been talkin’ big all evenin’, but ya’ve yet ta actually drink me under a table like ya said ya would yet.”

“Maybe because I don’t want somebody to get alcohol poisoning just because they’re prideful.”

“Yer underestimating me, Anon.”

“Am I?”

“Ya sure are.”

You gave the mare a look, before you slammed your fist down on the bar.

“Yo! Bartender!”

The stallion who was manning the bar made his way over to you.

“What can I get you?”

“Two shots of bourbon, single tab, keep it coming.”

“Right away.”

“About time ya showed some balls, Anon,” she commented with a smirk as she watched the bartender pour out a couple shots of bourbon.

“I showed plenty to you this morning,” you retorted.

“Touche.”

The two of you simultaneously drank down the liquid inside your shot glasses, before placing the down on the bar. The bartender did his job well, refilling both shot glasses immediately.

You made a mental note to tip him fifty percent like a real American hero.

“I hope you’re ready for a night in the hospital,” you commented to the country mare, “you’re going to need your stomach pumped after this.”

“Right back ta ya, Anon.”

You eventually lost count of just how shot glasses you have downed in the past… well, you lost track of how long this has been going on as well. At this point, you didn’t even care, you just wanted to see Applejack give up.

Sadly, she just wouldn’t quit. She actually managed to keep up with you quite well.

The two of you downed yet another round of shots and placed the glasses back down on the table.

“Don’t you guys think you’ve had enough?” the bartender asked.

“No!” you both shouted in unison.

He shrugged as he poured out another round. “Whatever, I’m not the one paying for your medical bills.”

You looked over to the mare beside you. This was going nowhere, just getting you more and more drunk. While there was nothing wrong with this, it wasn’t yielding you any results.

You needed to ask yourself… what would Black Jesus do in this situation?

Probably shoot hoops or something to do with big booty hoes, now that you thought of it. You didn’t really see how-

Of course! The answer was so obvious!

“Yo, Applejack,” you slurred out, “did I ever tell you that you have a really nice ass?”

She hiccuped. “Nah.”

“Well you do.”

She chuckled. “Thank ya kindly, Anon. Your posterior isn’t half bad either.”

“Haha, yeah.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?”

The mare didn’t respond. You glanced towards her and found Applejack slumped over the bar, snoozing lightly.

“Huh, I guess I win.”

You mentally high fived yourself, before turning towards your bro. “That chick come back yet?”

He shook his head no.

“Damn shame, brah.”

“Eeyup.”

As these words left Big Mac’s mouth, the nearby mare’s restroom doors flung open, and out stumbled a gray, black maned mare. She snuffled a hoof under her nose violently as she moseyed over to the bar.

She hopped up to the stool beside and flashed your bro a toothy grin. “Hey babe.”

“Ya took a long time,” he commented as he took a drink like he didn’t give a fuck.

“Well, I had a lot of blow,” she snapped back at him, before she shot a glance over to you. Her eyes rolled up and down you as she eyed you like a piece of particularly well-marinated meat. You felt a slight tingle in your groin at the gesture.

“So who’s your friend, baby?”

Big mac put his drink down and wiped his mouth. “This here’s mah bro.”

You felt your inner alpha pulsating inside you as you extended your hand out to the mare.

“My name is Anonymous, but you can call me Anon, baby,” you said as you took the mare’s hoof in your grasp. She shook it slightly, and giggled a little at your debonair attitude. “You a local around here?”

“Oh, no. I just moved here. I’m living with Vinyl.”

You barely caught what she was saying, though. Between her fantastic hip-to-flank-ratio, that elusively seductive british accent, the copious amounts of alcohol that flowed through your liver, and the fact you were pretty sure there was a tiny dragon dancing on the bar in front of the three of you. You were barely paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth as you fought to control the raging erection in your pants.

“...And I really can’t say how that got stuck in there. But I digress. Can I buy you two a drink, darlings?”

“Huh? Oh, oh yeah. of course you can, baby,” you cracked a toothy grin as the mare indicated the order to the barkeep.

“My name is Octavia, by the way,” her smile elicited yet another throb from your crotch, “but you can call me tonight’s lay.” She batted her eyelashes seductively at you as you practically willed your pants not to rip into shreds.

“Ehxcuse me, but Ah though Ah was your date tonight, miss,” Big mac said vehemently over the gray mare’s shoulder.

She cocked an eyebrow at the stallion.

“Of course you are, silly. But I want both of you tonight. Am I understood?”

“No,” Lyra responded as she penetrated her way into the conversation.

“I want the big guy and the hairless monkey here to double team me,” she explained, pointing a hoof to you, Big Mac, and her crotch. “It’s not that hard to understand.”

“I know, I was just being ironic.”

“Right,” Octavia said as she rolled her eyes a little bit, before she glanced back to the two of you, “so, what do you say boys?” She cocked an eyebrow at the two of you.

Big Mac, with an eyebrow raised, glanced at you with a look of pure bro understanding.

It was a look you had never before seen in your life, but you knew it perfectly well regardless. It was a glance that held a million words, but only one true meaning. You knew what this meant. You were ready for this. You had trained your whole life to be the ultimate bro.

Big Mac’s gesture was clear. And you knew you wouldn't let him down.

You gave him a nod that emphasized your devotion to the Bro Code. Regardless of how weird it might get, you would catch a bullet to help this stallion get some.

‘It’s not gay if it’s in a threeway’, was all that the nod said. And it was all that needed to be said.

She smiled as the drinks came up, before she handed each one to its respective owner and winked at the pair. “Bottoms up, boys.”

You tipped the drink up to your lips letting the cold, bitter liquid wash your sorrows into the abyss. But, the liquor tasted… off. With a firm hoof, though, you felt as Octavia pushed at the bottom of your glass, forcing you to drink down to the last drop. It would have been kind of hot if you weren’t already about to choke on the harsh mixture.

You immediately realized why the liquor tasted the way it did as you gulped it down, and from the looks of it, so did your bro.

“Dude, you totally drugged this, didn’t you?” you asked the gray mare with a hiccup.

“W-what?!” she responded, immediately going on the defensive, “No I didn’t! I didn’t even touch your drink. The bartender made them.”

“Don’t bullshit me, man. I know what roofies taste like. One of the many things you do as a member of the Church of the Fonz and a follower of the Bro Code is build up an immunity to roofies by ingesting it.”

She just stared blankly at you, likely unable to comprehend what you just said.

“Now come on,” you said as you hopped off your stool, “let’s go drop off these two at my place so they can sleep off their drunkenness while we engage in debauchery at your place.”

“Aw!” Lyra moaned, as she clearly didn’t want the night to be over yet.

Octavia remained silent as she responded with a mere nod.

Frankly, the way she had began to act crept you out, but that booty game was off the charts. It would definitely qualify as at least number seven on next years edition of the official Ponyville Booty Power Rankings, or even as high as number four.

You shrugged it off and decided that ass was worth it, even if sticking your dick in a crazy bitch was a terrible idea. You grabbed the passed out country mare and slung her over your shoulder, before you began to make your way out of the club.

“Have a good time, guys~” you heard Vinyl call out to your party as you left the building.

“DP, DP!” you, Big Mac, and Lyra sang together, “GOOD FOR YOU, GOOD FOR ME!”

Your party decided to take a shortcut through the dark, spooky alley that lead right to your apartment complex. Ordinarily, you’d avoid this place because you were sure that there were some skeletons lying in wait to ambush and spook you to death, but that booty game was ridiculous enough to risk it.

“Keep an eye out for traps,” you warned your party as you kept your eyes peeled, knowing death was likely just seconds away.

“Wait, I thought everybody who lurked on Ponychan is into traps?” Lyra asked with a raised brow.

“Fuck off back to your shit-tier random board, bro,” you growled at her.

As the three of you glanced about for traps and spooky skeletons in an empty alley way like perfectly sane individuals, you failed to notice Octavia fall behind you and grab a large piece of rubble from a nearby trash can.

Before you knew what was happening, you were on the ground, your head pulsating with pain. You glanced at Applejack, who had fallen to your side when you were hit, before looking up to where you bros were as you faded in and out of consciousness.

Everything seemed like it was moving in slow motion. Your senses heightened as you felt warm blood trickling from your head and unto the cold cobblestone road.

Big Mac looked at where you had fallen and had just began to react, only to receive a blow to the back of the head like you assumed you did. His body fell to the ground like a mighty tree, giving a heavy thump as he impacted.

Lyra looked on in utter shock, unable to fight or flee. She moved her mouth to either speak or shriek, only to suffer the same fate as Big Mac. The blow knocked her off her hooves. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she collapsed.

Applejack did nothing because she passed out drunk about two feet away. What a bro...

As your vision blurred between reality and darkness, you could make out Octavia closing on your party, all of you helpless to stop her in your current states.

‘Never stick your dick in a crazy bitch’, you made as a mental note before everything faded to black.

‘Never...’