Clopfics, the DNA of FIMFiction
Chapter 1: Chocolate Rain, You Guys!
Twilight Sparkle sat kneeling beside a sacharrine brown puddle, the recent beatdown of hallway monitors followed by a mandatory stealth section having caused a minor aneurysm. Warm, sweet-tasting droplets fell from the sky, streaming down her face and body, soothing her mind.
"Just what I needed." She said with a sigh. "This will surely wash away ketchup stains off my 30 inch blade." She said, dipping the aformentioned weapon into the puddle, a small smile graced her lips as it washed away the red stains. "Good thing I took a detour to Britain before coming to CHS"
"How pleased you are to block away, Twi the Banhammer!" A cheery voice chirped from somewhere up above Twilight, making her look up.
There, on the roof of the school building stood a pink figure with an impossibly poofy hairstyle, clad in grey and black armor. Said armor had a multitude of red cuts on it, with a large X on its chest. Despite the figure's face being obscured by a black helmet, Twilight instantly recognised the person.
"Pinkie, did you say something?" Twilight asked, craning her head. "I can't hear a thing from down here."
"My name is Monsus, of The Winds of Degeneracy." She continued with a smirk.
"Still can't hear anything!" Twilight yelled, sticking a finger in her ear.
Pinkie crossed her arms on her chest, sparks of pink-pirple electricity enveloping her body. She took a step off the room, her body dissecting itself along the red cuts, before falling to the ground. Her feet hit the sidewalk first, the rest of her body assembling itself hole with the power of magnetism and cocain. but mostly cocaine
She flexed her fists and neck a few times before cracking a less than sane smile and approaching Twilight.
"Feasting on the tears of your enemies!" She stopped a few meters away from the thoroughly befuddled Twilight. "How easily you ignore the loss of pleasure when it suits your convenience!" She smirked, standing with her back turned to Twilight, only craining her neck to see the librarian. "So tell me: Who saves Anons from the mare who saves Anons?"
"I'm not a mare anymore, though." Twilight said, before shaking her head, asking a more prudent question. "The hell are you talking about, Pinkie? Are you with those horny bastards too?"
"Sure am!" Pinkie chirped, giggling to herself. "A mare has to make her own money nowadays, and what better way there is to earn money than through horny commisions from Anons?"
"Actually true." Twilight conceded the point, before clearing her throat. "But you can't be in on it just for the money!" Twilight argued, the woman in front of her giggling once more.
"Well, you could say I'm in it for more than just to make a few quick bits..." She said coyly.
"Intoxicated and gangbang fetishes?" Twilight asked flatly.
"Intoxicated and gangbang fetishes." Pinkie replied in kind.
"Not a big surprise there..." Twilight muttered, before remebering from where the frame-to-frame retreading of MGR cutscenes left off. "You're the one exploiting them. You take advantage of their hornyness... Of course they get blue-balled, when you write commision fics that break the TOS!" She said accusingly, pointing a finger at her friend?.
"Fuck or be fucked, Twi." Pinkie said smugly, holding out her hand, letting drops of rain accumilate on it, before turning to Twilight. "Some Leech taught me that."
"You aren't the only one to grow up on the smut fields. Clopfic writing is a cruel parent, but an effective teacher. Its final lesson is carved deep in my psyche: that this world, and all of its people, are diseased. The feature box is a myth, upvotes are a joke. We are all pawns, controlled by something greater: clopfics, the DNA of FIMFiction. They shape our will: they are in our reading lists, they are everything we nut to in shame. Expose someone to cartoon horse porn long enough, and they will learn to become a zoophile. They become a degenerate. Sex, Mature, Porn... All NSFW tags, all searched for. You can't fight nature, Twi. Wind blows, rain falls, and the writers produce smut.
Ancestor tells me you see your weapon as a "tool": something that saves lives, a means of destroying cringe. Now, there's a pretty meme! Exquisite! It spared you the burden of all the balls you've blued, absolved you of guilt when you enjoyed it. That is, until the illusion was broken. Don't be ashamed. It's only nature running its course. You have no choices to make. Nothing to answer for. You can log off with a clear conscience." Pinkie finished her very original, and definently not copy pasted with minimal adjustments to suit the craked narrative of this fic, speech by twirling a pair of sharpened candy canes, a grin on her face.
"You're right… about me, I mean." Twilight began, surprising pretty much no one who either read the first fic or played mgr. "I knew something was… off. After Spike's Gym Routine, I thought I could log off this autistic site and live a normal life… but here I am, surrounded by porn, arguing fetishes with horny bastards. I told myself this was about justice, about protecting the normal people…but I was wrong." She said grimly.
"Then you admit it?!" Pinkie asked with a surprising amount of exitednessis that even a fucking word? in her voice.
"I learned young that blue balling your enemies felt good. Really good. In Real Life, my friends, my family… they helped me forget the devil inside… but who am I kidding? I was born to blueball! The bit about my banhammer, that "means of justice" stuff? I guess I needed something to keep "the Banner" in check when I was knee-deep in unsatisfied Anons…" She trailed off, looking into her muddy reflection in the puddle.
"You…"
"But you… all this… is a wake-up call to what I really believe… what I really am."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying its hammer time!" She said, punching the sidewalk with enough force to retroactively topple buildings in China.
"Bonk her!" Pinkie commanded with a twinge of fear in her voice, a nearby standing Anon rushing Twilight, sticking a knife through her gut.
"Oh my fucking God I said bonk, not skewer!" Pinkie stammered, looking at her friend in concern.
"Spike," Twilight began, fishing out her phone out of the ether. "turn off my clop inhibitors."
"Twilight, this is madness!" Spike babbled into the phone, trying and not failing for once to operate it with his paws. "Quickly put a memetic kill agent before the talentless hack writing this comes up with another unfunny crackfic!"
"Do it!" Twilight yelled, ignoring the only sane individual in this literary equivalent of a burning pile of garbage.
"ok."
"WHY DID YOU FUCKING DO IT I WAS JOKING!" Twilight yelled as the entirety of FimFiction's 'porn' and 'fetish' tag downloaded directly into her corpus callosum.
"Pain… This is why I fight." She swiftly pulled the shif out of her stomach, don't try this at home, kids! spraying blood everywhere. "This is my kink. My fetish." She said grinning at Pinkie, an edgy red aura enveloping her body.
"Holy shit Twilight stay still, I'll call the ambulance." Pinkie babbled, reaching for her phone, her hands shaking. "Why are you standing still? Go help her!" She yelled at the two Anons, who were currently being retarded.
Following her command the three anons surrounded Twilight, but before they could approache closer, the woman made a number of swings through the air with her blade, the Anons crumbling to chunks of meat.
"What the fuck Twilight!?" Pinkie exclaimed, color draining from her face. "You killed Anons!"
"They're a dime a dozen." She retorted flatly.
"Oh, right." Pinkie replied, breathing a sigh of relief. "Can't believe I forgot about that."
"Ahem." Twilight cleared her throat, ending the little detour from the scrip. "That nickname you love sooooo much... Wanna know how I got it?" She said, wiping the blood off her 30 inch shiv. "Actually, why don't I give you a demonstration?" She pointed the common Bri'ish utensil at Pinkie.
"I think it's time... Hammer time!"
She lunged at Pinkie, who was thankfully done calling the ambulance.