Some of you may have heard of Gizoogle.

Well, I ran this story through it, and this is what I got.

Don't read if you can't handle a little swearing, do read if you want a cheap laugh.

Luna Moonem: Ghettoquestria Edition

By Silvertie, co-authored by Gizoogle

"You’re not comin ta tha wedding?"

Two sistas sat all up in tha dinin table, enjoyin a meal together fo' tha last time up in a while; one smokin dinner, tha other smokin breakfast. Two sisters, polar opposites, they rarely gots ta dine together, props ta tha nature of they schedules. They hadn’t always gotten on together yo, but dat was ta be expected -- there was no such thang as a siblin relationshizzle dat didn’t git rocky at some point, n' up in any case, conflict was tha spice of game fo' realz. And these two sistas needed dat spice, fo' theirs was tha longest one.

"I wish I could, Celly," Luna holla'd. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "But I’ve been up all night, n' I simply wouldn’t be up in any condizzle ta attend yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. I’d look awful, n' I’d be yawning, and..."

"Okay, aiiight," Celestia holla'd, pouting. "Yo ass know it’s tha only chizzle you’ll have ta peep our niece git hooked up fo' at least a hundred muthafuckin years n' probably more, right?"

"I’m sorry," reiterated Luna, spoonin some salad tha fuck into her grill. "But I fear I’d only put a thugged-out damper on proceedings. Not ta mention I’m shizzle most ponies still harbor fear fo' mah dirty ass."

Celestia’s lips pursed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "I wish they’d let Nightmare Moon go. I have."

"Give it time," Luna muttered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "It’s only been two years. Mortals is slow ta forgive n' forget; strange, since they time is so limited."

"Chalk it up ta our experience regardin grudges," Celestia smiled. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "Well, tha celebration will continue until well afta sunset, so you’re free ta join our asses at any time."

"I shall," Luna holla'd, noddin n' gettin up, stiflin a yawn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. "I be thinkin I shall retire at dis point. I forgot how tha fuck tirin it is ta cast spellz of sbustin up all night."

Celestia nodded. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "Sleep well, sister."

"See you tonight."

======

They came fo' her while her big-ass booty slept.

Luna slumbered fitfully, roused from chill by a fuckin shitload of clues dat all was not well. For one, dat biiiiatch was over-warm fo' realz. A window was like open, which led neatly ta problem number two, tha sunlight whoopin on her closed eyelids, not suttin' dat would normally happen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Maker knew she loved her sista yo, but Celly could be a pimped out big-ass ounce ta tha bounce of parasprites sometimes wit how tha fuck bright she made tha sun shine. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch often wondered if it was just ta wind her up, a practical joke on a cold-ass lil cosmic scale.

And thirdly, tha step of hooves. Nopony employed by tha Castle was foolish enough ta intrude on tha Princesses’ bedchambers uninvited, much less when they was asleep, n' Celly had mo' betta thangs ta do than rustle Luna’s breakfast cereal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Which meant these intrudaz was not Luna’s loyal subjects, nor her sister, which was tha second guess.

Her eyes snapped open, bloodshot from interrupted chill, n' tha insect-like creature leanin over her let up a lil' small-ass noise of surprise.

With a funky-ass blast of magic, tha creature was flung across tha room at high speed, plowin all up in tha wall up in a cold-ass lil cascade of rubble. Luna sat up, eyes waterin at exposure ta sunlight, n' saw dat her assailant hadn’t been alone; a trio of tha creatures stood nearby, alternatin alarmed looks between tha hole up in tha wall n' they playa under tha rubble, n' Luna her muthafuckin ass. They stepped back, chitterin amongst theyselves as they slowly made they way ta tha door, tryin not ta draw her attention n' failin miserably.

Luna peeped dem go wit a steely eye, before her other eye noticed suttin' lyin up in tha middle of tha floor near where tha creatures had been standing, a thugged-out dear playa whoz ass should not done been lyin there so... broken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch dived forward, leapin ta it’s side, cradlin it up in her hooves.

"Abacus!" Biatch raised tha primitizzle mathematical aid up in her hooves, alarmed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "Abacus, drop a rhyme ta me!"

Da abacus did not respond, as inanimate objects is aint gonna ta do, save ta rattle slightly as a funky-ass bead fell off a gangbangin' fucked up strut. Luna closed her eyes, n' reverentially laid tha item down on tha ground, before standin up straight, at her full height fo' realz. A set of sunglasses restin on a peg was enveloped up in a magical glow n' pulled across tha room ta land on her face, allowin her ta open her night-adjusted eyes without pain.

Da creatures saw tha expression on her face, n' knew dat they was up in so much shit, bein buried under half a tonne of rubble was soundin mo' like a infinitely less fucked up option wit every last muthafuckin second dat passed.

Luna gritted her teeth. "Yo ass chizzlelin parasprites is goin ta pay fo' messin up mah abacus."

======

Changelings. Nasty lil creatures.

Luna swung a silver-shod hoof all up in tha air, n' chitin cracked as tha chizzlelin had no chizzle but ta obey tha lawz of physics n' fly up tha window, at speed.

Devious creatures, they fed off emotions pimped up all up in tha pony they was imitating. Ludd was they preferred sustenance, although Luna vaguely recalled they was able ta feed off any sufficiently phat emotion. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da only one they couldn’t handle was raw hatred.

Luna grabbed a gangbangin' fleein chizzlelin by tha neck wit telekinesis, n' used tha chizzlelin like a funky-ass bat ta smash three of his comrades tha fuck into a marble pillar.

It was a bitch ass muthafucka they couldn’t feel tha hatred dat freaky freaky biatch had fo' dem n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do fo' realz. Abacus was- had been- a phat mathematical aid, just two minutes from retirement, which was when Luna would finally pick up one of dem new-fangled "calculators". Luna gritted her jaw. When dis was all over, dat freaky freaky biatch had a gangbangin' finger-lickin' hard as fuck letter ta write ta Mrs. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sexton.

Moonlight danced round tha crowded hallway, n' ice encrusted every last muthafuckin thang it touched; mostly chizzlelings. Da frost of tha ccrazy oldschool night up in winter, not suttin' Luna gots ta play wit much outside of tha longest night of tha year, which was a bitch ass muthafucka, cuz tha patterns it formed was so straight-up pretty.

Luna kicked out, n' one of tha chizzlelingsiclez was smashed tha fuck into a mazillion pieces almost as a afterthought, as Luna considered tha thang. Why was they here up in Canterlot of all places, biatch? Biatch looked up tha window, as she flung a hoof out, clotheslinin a cold-ass lil chizzlelin goin tha other way, n' saw dat shit.

Or rather, her dope ass didn’t peep dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shinin Armor’s dome had vanished, n' tha sky was thick wit chitinous invaders. Da answer: Somethang had happened ta Shinin Armor, n' possibly tha weddin itself.

This all ran all up in Luna’s analytical, scientistical mind, which, deep down, was always watching, always thinking. Unfortunately fo' tha chizzlelings, it was stayin deep-down, n' between dat n' tha ghetto at big-ass was a Luna whoz ass was, at best, intolerant of bein woken up early n' at present, wackly distraught all up in tha demise of her abacus.

"WHO WANTS SOME?" Luna boomed, shamelessly rockin tha Royal Canterlot Voice exactly where she’d been holla'd at not ta bust it -- indoors. Da resultin wave of sound blew nuff muthafuckin frozen chizzlelings tha fuck into small, frosty fragments, n' busted others flyin backwardz down tha hallway, clutchin tha sidez of they headz up in agony. Da hallway cleared, Luna cantered at a funky-ass brisk pace down tha hallway, takin care ta step heavily on any chizzlelin dat didn’t look like a pile of fucked up chitin at dis point.

Luna stepped outside, onto a cold-ass lil castle rampart, n' let up a low growl when her big-ass booty saw what tha fuck had happened ta Canterlot. First dat biiiiatch was woken up early, n' then her abacus was broken, and then, just ta add insult ta injury, her lil ponies was up in mortal peril. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch saw clustaz of resinous goop up in tha streets below, n' encased within, ponies strugglin ta escape.

"Nopony threatens mah lil ponies n' gets away wit it!" she growled.

Da soundz of commotion within tha castle gots her attention;; she  turned n' saw a pair of larger chizzlelings struttin all up in a thugged-out doorway wit confidence all but oozin outta every last muthafuckin pore; they was bout her size n' thrice as heavy-set props ta chitin dat was thicker than tha average Canterlot noble -- they was insectoid juggernauts.

Luna didn’t give much fo' her chancez of breakin dat heavy shell without help. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch could just freeze her way all up in it n' be efficient; but up in dis biatch, tha irritation of bein woken up early,  along wit grief n' takin tha battle on Canterlot as a underground insult, it all formed tha fuck into a single call fo' cathartic, primitive, primal, unyieldin violence.

Luna’s eye spotted a red-trimmed, glass-fronted cabinet on tha wall; a plaque read "Emergency Use Only" (thus meaning, bust it every last muthafuckin day), n' within, a sturdy axe rested on two pegs, never used. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! (Direct violation of plaque instructions.) Luna ran over ta tha cabinet, n' afta a cold-ass lil cursory search fo' a proper way ta open it (which proved fruitless), her big-ass booty simply reared back, n' slammed her forehead tha fuck into tha cabinet.

With a tinkle of glass, Luna ripped tha fire axe free, blood tricklin down her grill as her big-ass booty stared down tha approachin behemoths, twirlin tha axe up in her telekinetic grip.

"Come hither," her big-ass booty holla'd, beckoning. "I’ve gots some thangs ta axe you."

Da Behemoths charged as one, heavy steps causin tha straight-up ground ta shake wit they approach. Luna leapt, twirled, n' swung her axe up in a vicious uppercut.

With a cold-ass lil crash, one of tha behemoths was brought ta a terrifyingly abrupt halt,chin risin tha fuck into tha air n' even movin backwardz wit tha force of tha impact. Da axe done cooked up a funky-ass bangin metallic clang, n' tha wood fragments flew all up in tha air as tha axe itself blew up like a muthafucka, tha head reduced ta a vaguely axe-shaped lump of steel.

Luna regarded tha fucked up tool wit contempt. "Shoddy modern tools..."

Da chizzlelin she’d backflipped wit tha axe wasn’t straight-up up in a cold-ass lil condizzle ta regard anything, much less wit contempt, since tha impact had done a solid thang of rattlin whatever it had fo' a funky-ass dome. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da behemoth landed on it’s back wit a whud, n' Luna cast aside tha axe-handle irritably.

Then dat biiiiatch was hit by a gangbangin' freight train up in tha form of a gangbangin' four-legged chizzlelin behemoth, tha one dat dat freaky freaky biatch hadn’t knocked up cold. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da beast carried her across tha room, n' without pausin ta slow down, all up in tha wall wit a cold-ass lil crash of masonry n' stone.

It didn’t stop, carryin her all up in wall afta wall, even as Luna swore n' pounded on tha creature’s back n' spine wit a hoof. It took a extended period where Luna was not bein used as a funky-ass batterin ram fo' tha bizzatch ta git free n' escape her place on tha front of tha behemoth.

Bitch landed on tha carpet runner wit a on tha down-low impact, n' looked around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Next ta tha wall, a gangbangin' familiar shape rested -- one of Pinkie Pie’s jam cannons. Luna picked it up, n' afta a moment’s thought, emptied up tha party-specific payload, replacin it wit magically-sifted lumpz of stone n' rubble.

Bitch felt tha tremorz of tha approachin Behemoth, n' spun around, droppin tha fuck into her back n' kickin up as she fired tha cannon.

With a funky-ass bangin BLAM, stone n' rubble became shrapnel, n' tha behemoth’s head blew up like a muthafucka, tha rest of tha corpse completin it’s forced aerial arc ta land on it’s ragged stump of a neck before rollin ta a halt. Luna, covered up in blood, gots up n' discarded tha dropped charge, levitatin a funky-ass belt of jam cannon charges over her shoulder n' round her neck as she reloaded her improvised weapon.

Bitch sensed shit, n' still shovin debris down tha barrel, turned round ta peep a trio of behemoths, none of dem lookin terribly impressed wit her antics thus far.

"It be time fo' me ta kick flank n' masticate rubbery gum candy," Luna holla'd coldly, adjustin her sunglasses ta sit mo' betta on her grill as dat biiiiatch wiped some gore off tha lens. "And Pinkie Pie hath beaten me ta tha gum."

======

Da doors ta tha throne room flew open, n' what tha fuck was left of a funky-ass behemoth landed on tha carpet, ta muffled criez of horror. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Peepin it was a thugged-out depleted, tokin jam cannon, n' one rather upset night bizzatch.

Luna looked upwards, n' saw weddin guests suspended up in cocoons or stuck ta tha ceilin by adhesive resin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch noted nuff muthafuckin rather thugged-out stallions among dem n' sighed wistfully.

"Why is it always tha bangin' ones?"

"Supa-Hoe Luna," a funky-ass buzzin voice hailed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "So phat of y'all ta join our asses fo' tha reception!"

Luna looked ta tha altar; above tha altar, Celestia had been suspended up in a cold-ass lil cocoon of her own, unconscious n' upside-down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Where her sista would have stood durin tha ceremony, a twisted, black creature stood up in a mockery of a weddin ceremony, tha couple-to-be bound by resin ta tha floor at her sides.

"I be Biatch Chrysalis," tha Chizzlelin Biatch declared. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "I’ll cut ta tha chase. Canterlot is now mine, n' it’s only a matter of time before I have all of Equestria. I have absorbed enough ludd ta overpower even Celestia, n' tha elementz of harmony aren’t goin ta be able ta stop mah dirty ass. Da dizzle is goin exactly accordin ta plan, n' it’s every last muthafuckin thang I’ve eva wanted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shizzle happens all tha time. What bout yo slick ass?"

"I’ve lost a thugged-out dear playa," Luna holla'd flatly. "I’ve been woken up early. I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah subjects is up in danger. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah sista has been sucka-punched by you n' yours, n' I’ll just assume you’re ta blame fo' ruinin tha weddin as well." Luna pointed a accusatory hoof all up in tha chizzlelin biatch. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. "I’m havin a straight-up wack dizzle -- allow me ta show you just how bad."

"I be thinkin not," Chrysalis chuckled darkly, tappin a cold-ass lil chitinous hoof. "Grig. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Step forward."

A lil' small-ass chizzlelin fluttered all up in tha window, n' circlin around, landed up in front of Chrysalis, facin Luna as if da thug was goin ta defend Chrysalis wit his wild lil' freakadelic game.

Luna snorted derisively. "That weak lil thang’s goin ta fight yo' battle fo' you, is he?"

"Don’t be all kindsa hasty," Chrysalis holla'd, "This is mah bodyguard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This," Chrysalis holla'd as a warm glow enveloped her horn n' a lizzle of juice blasted tha fuck into Grig’s back, "is Grig when he’s on one hundred cement, undistilled love."

Luna’s grill was fixed up in a gangbangin' finger-lickin' disbelievin sneer fo' realz. A sneer dat rapidly fell from her grill as Grig bucked n' bulged, chitin tearin as it made way fo' progressively newer, larger layers. Luna’s gaze slowly moved from below her height, ta straight ahead, n' eventually, above her, a shadow bein cast across her n' tha carpet round her, Luna’s sunglass-clad grill reflectin tha hulkin freshly smoked up form of Grig up in front of her, his skin a roilin expanse of jagged n' splintered chitin.

"Oh, hay no."

There was a sweep of a pockmarked hoof, movin far fasta than anythang dat size had a right ta be moving, n' Luna found tha tablez turned, her muthafuckin ass bein tha one thrown all up in tha air, leavin her tiara spinnin up in tha air comically. Luckily fo' her, it was straight over tha edge of tha balcony, wit no glass ta prove a obstacle.

Unluckily fo' her, dat biiiiatch was dazed by tha sledgehammer hit, n' by tha time dat thugged-out biiiatch could peep just one oversized behemoth divin off tha balcony towardz her, dat biiiiatch was far too close ta tha ground ta be glidin outta shit.

Flagstones smashed as Luna wrapped her muthafuckin ass up in otherworldly energies n' reinforced her body ta endure tha impact; ponies nearby dat hadn’t been imprisoned by chizzlelings screamed loudly all up in tha impact, chillaxin a lil when they saw it was just they bumpin', not-evil Supa-Hoe of tha Night n' oh dope Celestia what tha fuck is dat thang landin on top of her-

With a heavy slam of raw mass on cobblestones, Grig landed on top of tha bizzatch, hairy-ass legs splayed up as da thug went fo' a funky-ass bodyslam. Ponies shrieked, n' nuff lost they nerve, fleein tha fuck into tha street where chizzlelings swooped down n' plucked dem up tha fuck into tha air. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Those dat did remain, either outta willpower or blind terror, was able ta bear witnizz ta a rare sight -- suttin' not peeped up in a lil over a thousand muthafuckin years now, nahmeean?

Luna gots mad.

There was a cold-ass lil creak of overloaded chitin, n' Grig’s eyes went wide as his splayed-out posture slowly rose tha fuck into tha air. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Underneath him, Luna stood on her rear legs, forehooves high above her head as one exposed, bloodshot eye glared up tha fuck into space all up in tha fucked up lenz of her sunglasses, as if darin tha universe ta test her temper one mo' time.

With a scream of passion, fury n' grief, dat dunkadelic hoe threw Grig, n' tha oversized chizzlelin flew tha fuck into  a storefront, demolishin it almost straight-up, along wit a phat portion of tha second floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Luna moonwalked back ta all fours, n' swept tha fucked up sunglasses off her grill so Grig could feel the twin barrelz of hatred glarin at his muthafuckin ass.

Da oversized chizzlelin rolled onto his hooves, n' roared, gallopin tha fuck into a cold-ass lil charge. Luna stood her ground, unflinching, until tha last moment, when her big-ass booty spun, n' lashed up wit a kick of tha gods.

Da Equestrian Royal Guard undertook mattaz of underground defense fo' tha Princesses on tha basis dat expectin a bizzatch ta defend her muthafuckin ass simply wasn’t aiiight, even if they was godz n' like capable of dealin wit any mundane n' most supernatural threats ta tha crown. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da truth was, any thug watchin tha bizzatches really go ta hood on anythang just made dem feel inadequate by comparison. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It wasn’t unknown fo' guardsponies ta observe tha juice of tha bizzatches, n' abruptly resign from tha guard up in order ta go on a journey of self-discovery or enlightenment outta sheer emasculation, n' dat was when tha bizzatches weren’t tryin ta utterly decimate tha target.

Da chargin Grig weighed just a lil on tha heavy side -- some three tons, n' he’d managed ta hit a scorchin pace up in his short run-up fo' realz. A lesser pony, even a cold-ass lil certain maxed superhero from Ponyville, would have simply failed ta even phase tha chizzleling, pitched forward n' smoked flagstone before fallin over n' gettin trampled ta dirtnap up in tha grill of Grig’s strength.

Luna managed ta not only stop Grig cold yo, but wit a swift wind-up n' second sharp delivery, served up a second hit dat staggered tha titan-class chizzleling. It stumbled tha fuck into a lamp post, causin tha civic property ta squeal alarmingly as it bent, n' tha chizzlelin used it ta stand up properly, feelin his cheek n' tha twin hoofprints stamped firmly tha fuck into tha chitin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Luna grinned, n' wit shakez of her hooves, dislodged her now-ruined shoes, beckonin Grig forward wit a cold-ass lil come-hither curl of her forehoof.

"Come on, big-ass colt. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Show me thy moves," dat dunkadelic hoe taunted.

Grig growled a gangbangin' feral growl, n' launched his dirty ass forward once more; rather than go fo' a funky-ass blind charge dis time, though, he kept a gangbangin' far slower pace, n' when Luna went fo' a second buck, da perved-out muthafucka slipped ta tha side, ducked under her attack, n' swept under her, swingin upwardz wit a gangbangin' foreleg up in a swift uppercut. There was a whud, n' Luna went flyin tha fuck into tha air, spinnin bout as she flapped her wings, tryin ta right her muthafuckin ass.

She’d barely spun a third, eye-waterin revolution when she managed ta stop it, goin from a spinning, uncontrolled rise tha fuck into a sharp, pimped up drop, rear hooves outstretched fo' a gangbangin' flyin kick. Grig’s hoof flicked up like a rattlesnake, n' quick as lightning, swung her groundwardz like a gangbangin' flail.

Luna hit tha cobblestones once mo' wit a smash, n' Grig didn’t stop there, brangin Luna back ta his other side ta slam tha fuck into tha cobblestones again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da display of juice n' aggression didn’t stop until Grig was standin up in between two vaguely equine-shaped craters. Da dust slowly cleared, n' Grig puffed heavily wit tha effort -- bein big-ass wasn’t easy as fuck  yo, but it had helped todizzle. It make me wanna hollar playa! He’d be surprised if tha pony bizzatch was anythang mo' than a gangbangin' fleshy, bruised sack of fucked up cal-

A midnight-blue hoof reached around, n' twisted tha fuck into a gangbangin' firm grip, makin bust of Grig’s hole-riddled hairy-ass legs fo' a funky-ass mo' betta hold. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Luna grinned at Grig from tha end of tha grippin leg, spittin teeth.

"I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah turn."

Grig’s eyes went wide as da thug was lifted off tha ground, n' wit a thugged-out deep cry of terror, da thug was subjected ta tha same treatment dat he’d just taken pride up in givin ta Luna. Da impacts on tha ground was like tha hoofstompz of tha gods, tha ground bobbin n' judderin wit each impact, as Luna used Grig as a livin hammer ta hit nails dat didn’t exist. Ponies n' now chizzlelings alike winced as Luna brutalized tha bigger creature, n' breathed a cold-ass lil collectizzle bust a funky-ass big-ass fart of relief when she finally gots bugged out wit dat shit.

Grig wasn’t up in a cold-ass lil condizzle ta hold much of a opinion of anything, eyes addled n' grill missin mo' than a gangbangin' few fangs, his chitin fucked up clean all up in in places, exposin slightly translucent, somewhat pink flesh.

And still, Luna was not done, liftin tha chizzlelin titan up n' balancin his ass on his hairy-ass legs unsteadily. Grig cooperated, a funky-ass bit of a mistake when he realized Luna was rearin back, brandishin her forehooves.

With a cold-ass lil crushingly fucked up seriez of strikes, Luna demonstrated tha legit art dat was hoof-to-hoof combat, a endless stream of straight muthafuckin rights n' left hooks servin as a example of form up in tha noble, centuries-old sport. Grig stumbled backwards, his wild lil' grill cracking, splinterin n' bleedin as it was pummeled tha fuck into a cold-ass lil chitinous pancake.

Eventually, tha punch-drunk Grig realized da thug wasn’t bein hit any more, n' that’s cuz Luna, up in her eternal grace, had her hooves up in tha air, slowly turnin round n' shoutin her superioritizzle int othe air as tha growin crowd fuckin started ta roar up in anticipation -- even tha chizzlelings was excited, forgoin care fo' they comrade up in favor of tha excitement of a good, old-fashioned beat-down.

Grig coughed up a gangbangin' few mo' fangs as Luna stopped showboating, n' gripped his ass firmly by tha shoulders, n' spun his ass around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! His eyes went wide as da thug was pulled onto his hind legs, n' gripped firmly bout tha midsection by two hooves dat was so tight, da ruffneck didn’t gotz a cold-ass lil chizzle of escaping.

With a roar of fury, Luna lifted, n' arched her back, throwin her muthafuckin ass backwardz wit all her might. Grig had lil option but ta follow, a trail of spittle markin his crescent path all up in tha air, before Luna’s back became a slick arch, n' Grig was exposed ta dat most iconic of wrestlin maneuvers: Da Germane Suplex.

His head n' shouldaz hit tha ground hard, n' tha crew could hear tha crumplin of chitin against tha forces bein put ta work. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Stone splintered, n' Grig gasped up in pain as his neck was forced tha fuck into his shouldaz by tha juice of tha blow fo' realz. And it was here dat Luna finally let go, leavin Grig free ta do what tha fuck all squishy thangs did when hittin tha ground dat hard.

Dude bounced, skippin across tha devastated street like a cold-ass lil cast pebble, eventually slidin ta a halt against tha other side of tha street. Luna straightened, n' posed once mo' fo' tha crowd, showin off her bicep.

"I still gots it," her dope ass declared, fond memoriez of a physical beef wit tha Dragon Lord of tha Ruby Expanse some thousand-plus muthafuckin years ago hustlin all up in her mind, even as dat freaky freaky biatch hooked a hoof tha fuck into tha fucked up chitin of Grig’s chest.

Da Chizzlelin Titan groaned as da thug was hoisted tha fuck into tha air again, his head brought level wit Luna’s face.

"Don’t eva let me catch you up in mah Equestria again," she growled.

Grig just nodded weakly, before dribblin some mo' blood n' passin out. Luna dropped tha body without ceremony, n' turned ta grill tha chizzlelings, whoz ass suddenly thought of mo' betta places ta be, fleein tha fuck into tha air before they could be made a example of.

Luna nodded up in satisfaction, before tha ground was shaken by a second tremor, dis time tha air fillin wit a rosy glow of power.

"Cadance," Luna muttered, before she felt a stiff wind bein driven past her muthafuckin ass fo' realz. Above her, her big-ass booty saw chizzlelings flyin all up in tha air by tha hundreds, chizzle among dem a larger, lankier changling. Luna took tha opportunitizzle ta show tha airborne Chrysalis tha back of her hoof, before a wave of pink light washed over her muthafuckin ass.

Da ambient juice was stunnin -- bangin enough ta just pick up n' throw chizzlelings like they was ragdolls yo, but controlled enough ta be discreet n' only pick up n' throw chizzlelings. Powerful enough dat it bled enough magical juice ta make simply passin all up in tha barrier was like a week all up in tha spa, n' discriminatin enough ta only give dat juice ta ponies n' not chizzlelings.

Da wave passed on, n' Luna peeped tha dome race up ta tha limitz of Canterlot n' stop, fadin tha fuck into a gentle mist of light.

"That’s love, baby," she muttered, before pickin up what tha fuck was left of her shoes, n' wit a funky-ass beat of her wings, liftin off tha fuck into tha air.

======

By tha time tha sun had set, Canterlot had chizzled drastically. Da remainz of tha failed invasion had been swept under tha hood’s collectizzle rug, ta be dealt wit another day, tha weddin had been done once mo' (properly, dis time) n' Luna had woken up wit a hangover, a empty forty of cider restin up in tha crook of her leg, teethang pains where freshly smoked up teeth had grown ta replace lost ones, n' four dented n' scuffed platinum horseshoes scattered across tha midnight carpet of her room.

And up in tha corner, a white cloth covered what tha fuck had once been a noble, calculatin abacus. Luna regarded it solemnly, before thumpin a hoof ta her chest n' bustin a lil' small-ass salute, before focusin her attention on tha mare up in tha mirror.

Her exploits earlier up in tha dizzle was a hazy blur, adrenaline n' rage obfuscatin tha detailz of her rampage. Oh, Faust. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. She’d lost her temper, n' afta all dat progress wit tha psychiatrist...

What if I just pretended it never happened, she mused as dat thugged-out biiiatch combed up her mane n' set tha moon on a upwardz arc almost absent-mindedly fo' realz. As fuzzy as her memories were, her dope ass didn’t be thinkin anypony straight-up saw her.

Which is good, she decided, as she fished a gangbangin' fresh set of regalia outta her wardrobe. There was a list of thangs she needed, n' "psychiatrist on her case" was not one of em fo' realz. All dat freaky freaky biatch had ta do was play it cool, pretend dat she’d been asleep tha whole time, n' it’d all go on tha fuckin' down-lowly.

Bitch could always blame what tha fuck was left of tha chizzlelingsiclez on somepony up in tha guard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch wasn’t tha only pony dat could freeze thangs solid, right, biatch? Yeah, dat sounded like a plan.

Bitch strutted over ta her balcony, n' looked down all up in tha jam goin on up in tha palace gardens, n' flarin her wings, swooped down ta join em.

Just play it cool, Luna fo' realz. Act natural, act natural...

Bitch touched down next ta Celestia n' Twilight n' playas, n' flashed dem a (thankfully intact) smile.

"Yo muthafucka, everypony. Did I miss anything?"