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Sweetie Poo

by DontWannaKnow

Chapter 1: Too Much

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Too Much

Listen Bronies, listen close

Because this shit is pretty gross

Hear me now relate to you

The sad, sad tale of Sweetie Poo

     I’m just your average brony. Okay maybe I own a few more ponies than normal. Yeah, okay, I do style their hair. Alright I have the damn Wedding Castle! There, are you happy. Yes and the RC car. This is not the point of this exercise!

     Anyway, I have a good life. I’m not depressed or an alcoholic…not that I don’t indulge in the occasional appletini. Yeah I know it’s a gay drink, can we just focus on this story, please? So yeah, brony with a good life. I even have a girlfriend who tolerates my pony obsession. I work at a credit card company. I enjoy pizza. There’s really nothing remarkable about me at all. No, I’m not an unusual person…it just seems that unusual things happen to me. This is the story of one of those things.

     Emma (that’s my girl) and I live in a nice little neighborhood. My only complaint is that there are too many kids. We hate kids. But still, the omnipresence of those little bastards is a testament to how nice and safe the place is. People don’t even lock their doors at night. Strange and unexpected things never happen…well, almost never.

-----

     I keep odd hours because I work tech support for the company and I don’t get off until midnight. On an average night I come home to find Emma passed out on the couch, bong in hand, enjoying a stony sleep. It’s sweet that she tries to wait up for me, but she just smokes too much weed. Personally I don’t like that stuff…it makes me all paranoid.

     And so it was on such a normal night that I came home to this familiar scene. The window was open and it was chilly…it looked like a storm was brewing. I shut it and threw a blanket over my sleeping sweetheart. She stirred slightly when I bent down to brush a strand of blonde hair off her face and give her a peck on the cheek.

      I went to the kitchen and opened up the fridge. There was a brown paper bag with my name on it that caught my eye, in which I found a reuben sandwich which I instantly recognized as the work of Joe, my friend who works at the bagel shop down the street. Emma must’ve picked it up for me on her way home. Inside the back there was a note:

Andy-

     I am so hungry and stoned right now you have absolutely no idea how much I want to eat this thing. But I won’t, because I love you. Also I expect sex for this.

     -Em

     Well, she’s direct if nothing else. I took my sandwich back to the living room and sat down in the armchair next to Emma’s couch. I flipped the tube on and selected ‘Sisterhooves Social’ from my list of recorded pone. Sweetie Belle is my favorite pony. Word of advice: never tell your asshole brony coworkers that one of the Cutie Mark Crusaders is your favorite pony unless you enjoy having your mailbox flooded with foalcon.

     Anyway, back to the sandwich. I love reubens, especially cold reubens, so I was quite happy as I sat in front of the television’s soft glow watching Friendship is Magic. I was just about to stuff the last of it in my face when a thunderous boom made me jump out of my seat. Emma awoke with a start as well.

     “What the shit was that?”

     “I…I don’t know,” I stammered, slightly dazed. That’s when I looked out the window and noticed the tree in our backyard was somewhat uncharacteristically on fire. It seemed that storm I’d been expecting had struck and the tree had been hit by lightning. That was the only logical explanation I could come up with. Except it wasn’t raining…that was odd. I opened the back door and we went outside to investigate. I grabbed the garden hose and doused the little tree, extinguishing the flames.

     “Oh hey, did you get my no…” Emma stopped in mid-sentence. I followed her gaze to the base of the tree and my eyes did that bulgy thing that eyes tend to do when something totally wack happens. In this case I might even go so far as to say the situation was in fact wiggidy-wack.

     There, at the base of the tree, shivering in the night air, was an unmistakable little creature. She was soaking wet…I must have accidentally hit her with the hose. There was no mistaking this one. It was a little white thing with downy fur and a curly lavender mane. Between the curls of said mane was a small protrusion – a horn. It was a Sweetie Belle. Even Emma knew exactly what it was.

     “Um…Andy…call me crazy, but that thing looks exactly like the one in your little girl show…”

     “I…I…well, shit!” I exclaimed, coming to my senses, “she’s gonna freeze out here, let’s bring her inside!” I took off my coat and swept the shivering little foal up in it. Incredulity and wonder could wait. At that moment I just needed to make sure the poor thing survived. She kicked and squirmed in fear when I picked her up and rushed inside.

     In the light I could see she was filthy – her fur was stained brown and red. Dirt and blood. Who would do this to a foal? I put her shivering little body in the sink and ran some hot water, washing the dirt off and warming her up. She squeaked and wriggled around, trying to escape me, but I managed to hold on. When I was done Emma was waiting for me with a fluffy towel to wrap the little pony in. She was still trembling; the poor creature was terrified. The second I loosened my grip on her she leapt out of my lap and ran to the far corner of the room, curling up into a ball and crying.

     “Wait, it’s okay!” I called after her. “We’re not going to hurt you!” I slowly made my way towards her, her tremors becoming more violent the closer I got. I reached out to try and comfort her. When my fingers touched her she shook violently, soiled herself, and began bawling uncontrollably.

     “It’s not my fault!” she sobbed.

     “Don’t worry, of course it isn’t, you’re just scared…”

     “You don’t understand! I can’t help it!” She let out a mournful wail. I knew animals crapped themselves when they were scared, and I figured a sentient being would be embarrassed by such a thing, but she was howling as if it were the end of the world.

     “It’s okay,” I reassured her, “just calm…well…just…what’s your name?” I already knew the answer, but it was the only thing I could come up with.

     “Sweepoo,” she mumbled, hiding behind her bushy tail.

     “What?” I was slightly confused.

     “Sweetie Poo!” she cried, releasing a fresh downpour of tears and soiling herself again.

     “I…but…wait, you’re Sweetie Belle, right?”

     “N-Nobody calls me that a-anymore,” she whimpered.

     “Why, what happened?” I was very concerned now. Clearly she’d been mistreated.

     “B-because I…” she soiled herself a third time “…because I POOP TOO MUCH!”

Next Chapter: Huggies Estimated time remaining: 7 Minutes
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