Author's Notes:

Holy shit guys. I'm sorry it's been so long. I dont have a lot of excuses for you, but I do have an out of sequence fun chapter. Because I like fun chapters. We'll get back to the super serious Red-postmodern-multiverse-timeline in a bit. But I hope you guys can enjoy this one that I felt needed to be added.

Toast, Coffee, Eggs, and two slices of questionably legal bacon. It's not a normal, average day in Equestria. No. It's something special. It's your birthday. And you've been saving this bacon from the Griffon homeland for a very, very special occasion. Today is the kind of day to "treat yo'self".

You have the day off work, surprisingly. Especially since it seems like your job just overwhelms you at times and takes over everything that you find fun and enjoyable. You find yourself snappy and jerkish. You find youself questioning the things that make you happy, and the people around you who just want to make you smile. Well not today. Today is for you. Today is a day of recovery. To make you smile. To close your mind to the outside world and shake off those iron shackles of burnout. All of that can be dealt with tomorrow.

Right now, it's just you, your comfy PJ's, the newspaper, and this breakfast. The sun is shining through the windows, but it should rain later today. You love the rain. It's the best of both worlds. Calm. Relaxing. Maybe later you can put on a record as you read a book, do a puzzle. Or something very soothing.

Content. If you had to summarize what today was going to be, in one simple word, it would be that. Content.

Then three gentle knocks from your front door grab your attention.

Fuck.

You rise to your feet, put on your Rara-slippers, and then toss the door open wide.

"H-happy Birthday, Anonymous!" Fluttershy says, balancing a carefully wrapped present on her head. You know, if she wasn't such a nuisence, she would be kind of adorable. "I-I brought you a gift!"

"Wow, Fluttershy. You shouldn't have," you say flatly. "I mean, really. Please. Go away."

"B-but I know it's something you'd actually like... c-can you at least open it?"

You sigh, take the box from her head, then glare down at it.

"I swear, if it's another dildo, I already have three."

Fluttershy glares up at you quietly.

"I-I thought I only gave you two dildos..."

"Nevermind," you say, ripping the paper off and tossing the lid aside.

Sitting inside of the box was a small glass bottle. On it, a simple black label with white text. 'Dragonfire'

"Is this..."

"I-is hot sauce your fetish?" she asks gently.

"No, but I love hot sauce, my little yellow dude," you say, taking out the bottle and throwing the box over your shoulder. "How hot is this?"

"Uhm, I don't know. But Pinkie likes it, so."

"Well, um. Thank you, Fluttershy."

"No problem, Anon! I hope you have a wonderful birthday."

Then she takes off. She didn't have to be kicked or anything. Wow. Is she actually, like, respecting your boundaries? This is weird. You look down at the bottle. The seal is even still on.

You move back to the table and sit down. Well, it's true. You love hot sauce. We might as well try it. You open the cap, hearing the seal break. Which means it's probably not drugged. You pour the hot sauce over your eggs and give it a good whiff. You can immediately smell garlic, scotch bonnet, the unmistakeable smell of peppers. All in all, it smells good. Not painful. If anything, it's subtly smokey.

You stab some eggs with your fork, and take a bite.

It's a miserable, painful day in Equestria. Everything is pain. You lie in bed, the evening of your birthday, clothes scattered around the room. You're sweating. Tears are running down your eyes. It has been 9 hours since those eggs. Since -that sauce-.

You hear the door open downstairs, but you do not care. Your world is pain. Your existence is regret. Your asshole is bleeding. Your brain is fog. You breathe the sauce. You've become a pepper. Your world is spice. Your stomach screams, but your throat doesn't reply. Your lips do not exist. You do not exist. The world is a hot sauce.

Fluttershy walks up the stairs, reeking of hot sauce. She peeks through the door, her eyes two peppers of indistingushable spice.

"Anon, w-was it too spicy."

"I hate you," you say, your mouth a fire made of hot sauce.

Fluttershy remains quiet.

"S-so, d-does it hurt too much?" she asks.

"I hate you."

"Too much to kick me out?" she asks gently.

"I hate everything," you groan.

"Too much to... make love?"

And then she got on the bed, and had her way with you.

However, the jokes on her.

You accidentally touched your naughty bits with the sauce.

So, Thats how and Fluttershy ended up in the hospital from one bottle of hot sauce.

Fucking Fluttershy.