An Alien's Guide to Equestria: The Ponies, Pt.1

Being an alien invader isn’t easy. You all think it’s so incredibly simple. Just come on down, guns blazing, screaming out alien obscenities as you “kill all humans”, no doubt. It isn’t that easy. You have to really get to know the planet you’re on, or you’ll end up in a world of trouble. And quite possibly, dead. Did you know this one race actually invaded a planet though it was allergic to water? And they lasted about a week before learning the hard way that the planet (which was not only covered in about 75% water and regularly released water from the sky in the form of rain) had an atmosphere made of water vapor. They cooked in a dazzling display that the locals talked about for years to come. It was a sobering reminder to not be stupid when you pick a planet to invade.

Which was where I came in for this planet. I had to take a more stealthy approach. Mostly because I like doing this thing called “living”, and if I’m going to go to a planet and feed on the locals, I’d need to know about how they lived before finding out how they could die.

Don’t give me that look. I’m a living galaxy. We Cosmo Sapiens need tantric energy, the type of energy only sentient beings give out because only sentient beings really have souls. We have to feed off entropy within us somehow, and that’s how we do it. Eating others. It’s not pretty, but it’s something we don’t have much choice over. Especially because my species are…well, you’re not gonna find a Cosmo Sapien scientist. We might be knowledgeable, but we’re not “Smart-smart”. At least, not most of us. The need to hunt, to fight, to feel the thrill of the chase is drilled into our brains from childhood and our blood from birth.

I was a bit different. I was more reserved and intelligent than a lot of my kind. So I understood the value of science. Which is why I stole an image inducer from one of my earlier hunters and modified it to hide my appearance. Now I could look like any local from a planet once I’d acquired a sample of their species! So all I’d have to do was a simple reconnaissance of the major countries of the planet, find out who lived where, what their weaknesses were, and then get started. Not too hard.

Or at least, I thought it wouldn’t be. But the more time I spent here on the planet Equus, the more I began to like it. Quite a lot, actually. I was moved by how pretty and serene it was. It had a simple innocence about it all, a colorful array of races I was fascinated by. Especially the ponies.

Heavens above, they were just adorable!

That’s why the whole “invasion” thing didn’t quite work out and why I’m now, instead, writing this book you have in your hands. I want you to understand a complete outsider’s perspective of this planet and its people. And I want you pass along some words of wisdom, because as pretty, as peaceful and as near-perfect as this world can seem, there’s a lot of messed up things I discovered when I was living here.

This story will be both sword and shield to prepare you, dear reader, for whatever the Planet Equus offers. From the petty to the poisonous, from the slight to the significant, from the tiniest to the most terrible, I’ll speak about this world and its people so you can know what fresh eyes saw.

And we’re going to start…with the ponies.


CHATTER BOX IS A BIG FAT IDIOT

It was evidently clear the more time I spent in Canterlot listening to its radio broadcast program “The Chat Room” that Ms. Chatter Box was THE.

THE most unlikable woman I’ve ever heard speak. Her hatefulness rocketed out of the damn radio like a missile meant to launch you into space. Yet even then, I thought “Oh, well, maybe this is just a persona. Maybe she’s not that bad in real life and she’s just playing a role for fun and profit.”

Then when I actually saw her in person I thought “Nope. I was right the first time.”

My first bit of advice to you. Trust your instincts. Wait. Sometimes people’s instincts are awful.

I’ve got it!

Trust MY instincts. They’re almost always right.

My time interviewing the princesses, the people I had actually wanted to talk about, had to wait. Because Chatter Box was interviewing them first. It’s incredibly considerate of the Princesses to allow members of the new press corps that have formed to speak with them every day. Regrettably, Chatter Box considers herself one of them, and I was astounded at how she came across. Overly thick glasses? Not an issue. Slightly unkempt blond mane over her pale white furred body? No problem. But she was so…sweaty. Fat. And she smelled like, well, her scent was hard to describe. Some smells are so evocative they’re near-impossible. The best way I could put it was that she stank of burnt wet leaves that had been shoved into your face. With poor worms still wriggling on them somehow.

She kept asking the princesses about the country letting in the Changelings as citizens ever since they signed a treaty with Queen Chrysalis. It essentially meant that any Changeling who was willing and able could come into Equestria and be a citizen, contributing to the economy and being provided all the protections a citizen deserved. I had known about the Changeling’s attempted invasion of Canterlot and found it remarkably merciful of the Princesses to allow this. But to be fair to them, they had increased security within Canterlot, doubled the military expenditures, and had insisted Queen Chrysalis’s own recently-established kingdom not even think about trying to take Equestrian territory, because if they DID, they would turn the queen into a toad.

I’m dead serious.

All of this still wasn’t enough for Chatter Box, who kept insisting the Changelings were disgusting bugs that were stealing jobs from normal Equestrians who deserved it. She was practically frothing at the mouth. And when I suggested, after she was passing by, that she should be less testy with her country’s leaders, she gave me the most hateful look I’ve ever seen. I thought she was going to hit me right there.

So I decided the title tail was going to wag the content dog for this chapter. And this meant having to write about Chatter Box. This meant listening to her radio show, going to her “Chatter Chats” she held in public every single week, on the dot, every Sunday morning at 11, and, of course, a subscription to her magazine.

The people outside of Canterlot aren’t unfamiliar with her. She’s got an estimated audience of 4 million. And in a country that’s comprised of 100 million ponies that really isn’t bad, especially considering that radio is a fairly new invention for them. Though I don’t know how they can listen to her talk about the “Male-o-chists” and her “men as victims” ideas. See, Chatter seems to believe that all men, all “Colts” and “Stallions” on Equestria view heterosexual sex as rape. That is indeed quite the hard belief to defend, but see, I know a lot of men, all of whom consider themselves very manly men, for the record, and only one of them actually believes that. And he’d been married to my mother for over a thousand years.

My mom would whack him when he said that. Heavens above, I miss them.

But as for how anyone can believe this “woman” (and I use the term lightly), I’ve seen her audience. When she expanded to her “Chatter Chats” this meant in-person appearances with her loyal fans, and I wasn’t too surprised at who they were. Chatter’s loyal core audience appears to be dittoheads, rabid, unflinching, straightlaced yahoos of the worst garden variety. All well dressed, I admit. But they blindly and uncritically agree with everything she says. And everything she says is deliberately presented in a deliberately misleading way, disinformation to be devoured wholesale by these dunces.

Want to know what I mean? Well, the King of Saddle Arabia had been on the official news channel of Canterlot, to be in an interview with the two Royal Diarchs. The official news channel is run by an exceptionally charming young colt and his wife, and unlike Chatter Box, Mr. High Frequency and Broad Cast are not just honest, they’re astoundingly so. When I informed them I was writing about them and wanted to sit in on their program, I was amazed at how pleasant they were and, you won’t believe this, they’re both half-changeling, with dark fur and piercing blue eyes to match. I would see High Frequency focus in on whomever he was interviewing, his thick hooves gripping the microphone tightly as he asked hard-hitting question after hard-hitting question. Broad Cast, in turn, was remarkably clever. Whenever she talked to someone, you got the unmistakable feeling she knew more about the subject than the person who was on the air. And it isn’t hard to see why. They do their homework. They study, they reach out to experts. It’s the way the news ought to be given to the people: an informed citizenry assisted by an even more informed news media.

The King of Saddle Arabia, Mishra, didn’t escape a bit of questioning in regards to how his country handles mares. I wonder if he’s sexist, since not only did he keep giving me and Broad Cast looks, but he’d not been happy to hear about Princess Celestia and Princess Luna talking to Queen Chrysalis about letting Changelings be citizens.

“Maybe I am old fashioned, but to go to your enemy, say “we’re all cool”, let them into your country after they’ve hurt it so dearly? I don’t like it. I think it’s wrong. It HURTS your country.”  To anyone listening to that, it came off as an attack on the Princess’s patriotism. That they were doing something stupid and which would only damage their country. But when Chatter Box brought the incident up, well…see, she’d taped the interview.

Can you guess what happened?

“He didn’t assail their patriotism! He didn’t insult them at all! I’m going to roll King Mishra and you tell me if he insulted them one iota!” She’d insisted before PLAYING A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PART OF THE INTERVIEW. She then crowed about how she hadn’t heard one word about the princesses being insulted and I looked around at a hundred and fifty cheering idiots in nice suits all applauding wildly.

The purpose of her show is to punish you for actually knowing anything. Seriously. And she won’t…stop…talking…about the so-called “liberal media”. Even when it comes to her ties.

I’m not kidding you.

It was a hot day in my home in Canterlot. I had the radio on and was intent on listening to Ms. Chatter Box for study. After all, Nee-Buh-Loh is a professional. A hundred twenty hours of Ms. Box’s radio show, absorbing what she said, and I could fairly write about her. I was trying so, so hard not to hate her despite how dishonest she came across. But then she began to whine about her ties.

“Lemme just give you an example of the press and how awful they truly are. It’s as good as example as any of how the left has stereotypes. You all know I’ve introduced a new type of neckwear into our fair city, commonly known as ties. We’ve got four beautiful styles, you know. Four designs out there, and we’re always working on more!”

Evidently the “liberal media” has deliberately mischaracterized her mail-order tie collection.

“I open up the “Royal Reader” newspaper and what do I see in the “Life” section? A story about my ties! And what do they say?! “Chatter Box’s ties are as conservative as she is. Red and white everywhere with grey stripes”. Can you believe this?! Dear ponies, the very last thing my ties are is conservative! That’s why we’re calling the ties “Boundless”! These are- the very last thing my ties are is conservative! There ain’t one stripe on any of these ties!”

And she juuuuust.

Wooooon’t.

STOOOOOOOP. I groaned, heading for the kitchen. I currently had ordered a live pig to be delivered to me via Minotaur Mail. They’re very, very skilled, minotaurs are. They design doors, homes, have a fascinating mail system, and they’re highly skilled in military matters. Also incredibly omnivorous, which meant I’d be able to enjoy fresh pork. I had the pig tied up on the kitchen counter, stuffed with an apple in its mouth and I was about to further prepare it to be cooked when Chatter kept whining even more about how awful the “left always was”.

“I can’t believe how much the left stereotypes people like me! I mean, I came up with these ties myself and I’m so offended! And I insisted there be no themes on these ties! No ties to issues, no ties to politics, they’re just going to be gorgeous, beautiful, dazzling ties that anybody is going to wanna wear! And there’s not one stripe! NOT ONE STRIPE! On any of my ties!”

The pig had been listening in on the counter as well and I swear he was beginning to look sickly. Evidently the vicious liberal smear campaign against Chatter’s ties translated across all language barriers.

“They could have called me first! Called and said “Hey, we hear you’ve got some new ties out, we’d like to see them, we’re writing a story-”

“She can’t possibly keep talking about this.” I insisted out loud. The pig visibly snorted out its nostrils at this and I gave it a look.

“In the battle for the soul of our country, it’s becoming more and more clear that the press, which has a constitutionally protected role, can’t be trusted! If the press is so, SO wrong about an issue as simple as this, is it any wonder that there is a new media, led by me, Equestria’s truth detector? No there’s not. We’re gonna take a quick break, then come back-”

I turned, blinking in surprise. The pig was visibly moaning. Not even having an apple gag stuffed into its mouth was keeping it from displaying its agony. It was banging its head against the countertop, practically screaming.

“You know what? You’ve suffered enough for today.” I decided, and released it outside. It made off down the street and barreled into a vegetable cart. I closed the door on a cry of “My cabbages” and sat down on my couch.

How many hours to go again?! Ugh. I need to get some outside help for this. Luckily I happen to have some good friends in the town of Ponyville who could help me out.

OUR “INTERVIEW” WITH CHATTER BOX

My name’s Rainbow Dash. You might have heard of me. And you might have heard of my friends.

It’s a lot of work going from place to place, helping Equestria out. But ever since Twilight became a princess, we’ve had really great times together we never could have expected. And we met some really amazing people. Especially Nee.

It was kinda weird to meet with her the first time. She looked like a nine-foot-tall slice of the stars formed into some kind of living being. A horned head with two large horns on the side and cute little stumps on her forehead, pink eyes, a large necklace and wristbands made up of faintly bluish/white jewels, and she didn’t have a nose. Or ears! I asked her how she could smell or hear. She said it was something about natural receptors being hidden in her body, and then asked me to please stop rubbing the space above her mouth.

I almost didn’t want to. See, I found out that doing it generates static, cuz her skin’s so nice and soft, and when I put an arm around Pinkie Pie and proudly told Nee-Buh-Loh we would love to help her write about the folks in Equestria there was a KRRZAP and all of Pinkie’s hair stood on end. So I rubbed Nee’s arm and tested it out again. Yep!

Pinkie seems to like it though. And she got me back with a water balloon full of invisible ink that didn’t pop up until the next day. Boy was that reaaaaal embarrassing.

At any rate, Nee and I got something in common. We can’t stand that horrible “Chatter Box”. She’s no R.K. Yearling, that’s for sure! All she does is be snarky and mean and take stuff other people say and twist it around to make them sound bad. I learned this the hard way because I’d gotten her newsletter. Everyone in town had been talking about her and I wanted to see if she was really cool.

Then I saw the headline of the biggest article in it underneath her sneering mug. “My “Conversation” with Princess Cadence”.

I was confused since I’m pretty darn sure she didn’t ever go to the Crystal Empire. See, that would require actually getting out of Canterlot and she looks waaaaaay too lazy to do that. Then I saw a little bit of text at the bottom of the article that read “All of the Princess’s words are taken verbatim from transcripts of her speeches, press conferences and comments on the public record. Chatter’s comments have been added to create this simulated “interview”.”

See, this bit of crap lets her write stuff like this:

Cadence: There is this undercurrent of discontent.

Chatter: Wait a minute. Define “discontent”.

Cadence: This sense that economic growth and prosperity, political freedom and rights, they’re not enough.

Chatter: Oh, I get what you’re saying. The conclusion most of us arrive at when we’re 18 that there’s more to life than money and politics.

Cadence: That we lack at some core level meaning in our individual lives, and meaning collectively.

Chatter: Hey, if you’ve got an issue…use a tissue.

She is just.

Plain.

Mean.

But then I got an idea. A really good one. Two can play at this game. So I told Nee “Hey! Why don’t we take her idea, steal it, and use it against HER?” Nee thought the idea was, and I’m quoting her, “Wicked pissah”. So here we go! Our “conversation” with Ms. Chatter Box, and boy did she have a lot to say!

Rainbow Dash: First thing’s first. Biiiiig thanks for letting us interview you. We know you don’t like others interviewing you much.

Chatter Box: I’ve had 230 stories in which I was mentioned in the past two years. And I’ve only ever given five interviews! (Ponyville Confidential, Spring Celebration Interview.)

Nee-Buh-Loh: And big kudos, Ms. Box. What an exceptionally clever interview method. Such clever literary conceit!

Rainbow Dash: Yeah, it’s really clever. It reminds me of this thing Pinkie Pie likes to do where she disk-jockeys parties. Somebody will ask a question of her like “So what was Celestia wearing to the Gala” and she’ll play that song, you know, “She wore an itsty-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow-polka-dot bikini”.”

Chatter Box: Oh, I completely understand. I’m a smart woman, you know. (“How To Take Our Country Back”, Page 135.)

Nee-Buh-Loh: I see you’re wearing one of your specil “Boundless” ties. Y’know, they really are very conservative, to be honest.

Chatter Box: The very last thing my ties are is conservative! (Her Radio Show, The Chat Room, From Yesterday.)

Nee-Buh-Loh: But those stripes look preeeeetty conservative.

Chatter Box: there’s not one stripe! NOT ONE STRIPE! On any of my ties! (Her Radio Show, The Chat Room, From Yesterday.)

Rainbow Dash: Right, let’s just focus on something more important. Like how FAT you are. I mean, by Celestia’s Big Fat White Butt, you’ve gotta weigh close to eight hundred pounds!

Chatter Box: Not yet true, but sadly, it’s inevitable.  (Royal Reader Report on “Chatter Chat” Speech conducted on Changeling Immigration on the Summer Solstice)

Nee-Buh-Loh: Then how much do you weigh, if you don’t mind us inquiring?

Chatter Box: Almost eight hundred. Can you believe it? (Ibid.)

Rainbow Dash: Okay, let’s move off how fat you are, cuz we got a lot to talk about. You once said on your radio show-

Chatter Box: Have you ever noticed that all the newspaper composite shots of thieves always look like Earth Ponies? You’d never catch a unicorn doing such things. (The Chat Room, Three Weeks Ago.)

Rainbow Dash: You did not. Just. Say that.

Chatter Box: Let’s talk about those disgusting Changelings! (Royal Reader Report on “Chatter Chat” Speech conducted on Changeling Immigration on the Summer Solstice)

Rainbow Dash: Oh no you don’t! Ohhhh no you don’t! This is our interview, you got it? And we wanna talk about something serious. You always say the worst part of the Changelings is they take, and take, and give nothing back.

Chatter Box: The Changelings are the biggest pigs at the Mother Pig and her nipples. They’re always taking and taking and giving nothing back. They keep getting our money in welfare and I’m sick of having to play the stupid, phony game of compassion for these poor, unfortunate souls, because I DON’T have compassion! (Ibid.)

Nee-Buh-Loh: I suppose it would be easy to be overcome with “compassion fatigue” if you weigh nearly half a ton. And yet you admitted you collected unemployment insurance on your radio show, the Chat Room.

Chatter Box: Well, you see, I was without income back when I was married ten years ago, and my husband made me go and file for unemployment. It was the most gut-wrenching thing I’d ever done in my entire life. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Rainbow Dash: I’m sorry, you? Ms. “People are always taking from the government”…took money from the government? You always whine about Changelings getting welfare they don’t deserve, yet you were on the dole?!

Chatter Box: I had a bunch of expenses I simply couldn’t meet. It was at a time of the month when the rent came. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Nee-Buh-Loh: You’ve got to be one of the biggest hypocrites I’ve ever seen! You’re always saying that Changelings are pigs supping on the Mother Pig and her nipples when you yourself were a loathsome piglet! Or rather, a PIG, since you’re so incredibly fat.

Chatter Box: I had a problem getting bits. Grocery stores at the time didn’t have a credit program you could enter into. So I was forced into snack stores, they did actually have credit programs unlike restaurants and groceries and markets. I guess they were ahead of the curve. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Rainbow Dash: No wonder you’re so fat! Can you give us more of your pathetic sob story, you big fat hypocrite? With extra emphasis on “fat”?

Chatter Box: I was able to afford shelter with what little I had, but I couldn’t afford the upkeep. If it wasn’t for the fact my husband was good with his hooves, I would have had no walls at all. Let alone a roof. So he had to do most of the repairs. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Rainbow Dash: So you were unemployed, eating cupcakes and too lazy to fix your own house. Wow, could this get any more sad?

Chatter Box: The refrigerator broke down and I couldn’t get it fixed. So I had to sell the whole apartment and I still lost money in the process because by the time I did it, it had turned into a ramshackle old shack.

Nee-Buh-Loh: My, my, my. How fascinating. But I must say, Ms. Box, I still don’t quite comprehend why you collected unemployment instead of working. I mean, there had to have been SOME work available for an able-bodied mare with three hundred pounds on the hoof.

Rainbow Dash: Yeah, maybe as ballast on a ship travelling down a jungle river!

Chatter Box: M husband made me go and file for unemployment. (The Chat Room, New Years Program)

Nee-Buh-Loh: Wow, you’re quite the sad person, aren’t you? But before we end this interview, tell me, is there anything you’d like to say to our good readers about the state of Equestria?

Chatter Box: I tell you, friends. We are in bad shape in this country when you can’t look at a nice ass and notice it. ((The Chat Room, Three Weeks Ago.)

TASTE TEST

So, you get the idea. This woman is horrible. And unfortunately, she’s getting more and more popular. I am becoming increasingly concerned that she will end up actually encouraging violence against Changeling immigrants inside of Equestria. It’s only a matter of time before she starts screaming for people to take a bat to the knees of every Changeling within ten feet of them.

And don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t exactly “like” Changelings. I’m not wild about them. They’re too crunchy and dry.

Don’t give me that look, alright? I told you, my species eats people. Preferably, whole and alive. They taste better that way, and Changelings don’t taste very good. Ponies, on the other hand, that’s a different story. As I said, to appear as a member of a planet’s citizenry, I need to get a sample from their race, and the easiest way is to eat one of them. So I managed to pluck a farm hand from the wheat fields out near Canterlot. The sun had been hot and heavy that day and he was buck tired, so he laid under a tree as I snuck up on him from the forest to the east. I carefully dragged his still-slumbering form into the woods where I could enjoy my meal in peace, and began eating him.

It takes incredible care not to wake up sleeping prey. First thing’s first! Swallow with your tongue as much as possible, don’t let them brush up against your teeth. Our race has especially sharp fangs, and it’s not pleasant to get chewed. Let gravity do most of the work for you once about half the body’s in your mouth, and just let your prey naturally slide in. As for the taste, well, that was quite the pleasant surprise.

If you’re an omnivore reading this, or a carnivore, I figured I should tell you that Pony meat is really surprisingly flavorful. There’s almost a fruity hint to them, and they’re exceptionally juicy. They have rather thick hips, a very delectable part of the body to enjoy, and most helpful of all, no claws or large horns or the like to get in the way. Not even unicorns have horns that are too big for you to safely swallow them. For Pegasi, it requires a bit more work to get their wings in, so it really is best to keep them close to their main bodies. Luckily, wing meat is very tender and crispy in just the right ways.

Naturally, the farm hand woke up in my stomach and started squirming around. Unfortunately he wasn’t getting out. I honestly did feel bad about how frightened he was, so I tried talking to him whilst he laid in my stomach. After about an hour of screaming and sobbing and crying, he’d calmed down enough to tell me his name, Harvest Moon. I asked about his family, where he was from, if he liked his job, he was surprised I really cared.

Truth be told, I have to care. I have to, because whilst it might not mean much to me, I know it means everything to my prey. Just because I’m eating someone alive it doesn’t mean I have to be a BITCH about it! Being kind will cost you nothing, and it will be priceless to those you’re consuming. So we talked for two hours and he actually came off like a very nice guy. I apologized to him for what I had to do, but I promised him it wasn’t going to hurt, and it would be like falling asleep in a warm bath. He was still sniffling a bit, but he knew he wasn’t getting out, and all he could do was hope I was truthful. I was, though. He didn’t feel a thing, just like I promised, and the meal he provided for me kept me fed for several weeks.

Ponies are very gentle, unsurprisingly. Their entire society is founded on harmony, but only after years and years of overcoming racial strife between Earth Ponies, Pegasus Ponies and Unicorns. Their culture is focused upon compassion, friendship, the power of magic and fairness between the races. They place a heavy emphasis on diplomacy with other races but despite this, they’re nobody’s fools. The Princesses have created a near-utopian society which, due to not having to worry about a large amount of crime or foreign invasion, was able to move forward technologically at a nice pace. They went from simple huts and shacks to elaborate castles, trains and electrical equipment within the span of a mere thousand years. From caveman to near-perfect “modern” technology.

Not bad, all things considered.

A large chunk of their army is comprised heavily of Pegasus, skilled maneuverers through the skies of Equestria with kicks that can break your neck when delivered at Mach 2, with an immense amount of Unicorns acting as magical backups. A Cosmo Sapien’s mastery of magic centers primarily around manipulating the energy that a soul gives off, whilst Equestrians seem to draw power from the world around them and what they refer to as “The Elements of Harmony”, with spells ranging from teleportation to lightning bolts to transformation. Last but not least, the Earth ponies have immense physical strength, capable of ripping up trees and houses if they put their minds to it, and they’re the most durable out of all the ponies.

Yet despite the fact that they’re lead by two near-godly figures who have magical power up the ASS, they’re not interested in taking over the world. They just want people to get along with each other. They have a surprising pacifistic streak.

The Gryphons are a different story. They’re more aggressive and not above eating other species alive or dead. And when I visited their homeland, my predatory ways actually worked well. They were incredibly impressed with me, I sort of became their patron after I showed them what I could do. But ponies are still understandably freaked out by me. I get it. I’m not really like them. It’s not even the fact I eat meat, some ponies do, in fact, do that. It’s the fact I swallow people alive to stave off entropy. It’s the fact I’m a living galaxy.

They ought to be grateful, truthfully. Do you know large I actually am? It requires an immense amount of tantric energy to shrink my body to this size. We limit ourselves to better interact with our prey and give us a kind of handicap. It adds to the challenge and the thrill. If I showed off my true height, I’d crush this plant between my chests.

Which reminds me.

PONIES DO NOT UNDERSTAND BREASTS.

To all you ponies reading this. Please. Stop. STARING. At my breasts.

I know you’re not used to seeing them. I know they’re odd to you.

Please stop staring!

I first discovered how odd my breasts were to ponies when I saw Rainbow Dash staring at them. She nervously blushed, glancing away, her heartbeat slightly picking up as I stepped closer. I asked her why she was looking at me and she admitted her species didn’t really have such a thing like I had on their chest. In fact, I don’t know of too many species that do. Maybe the minotaurs but that’s it, and Dash hasn’t seen many minotaurs.

So she asked if she could touch them. I sighed, slightly annoyed, but agreed. She was, after all, helping me write this. Her hoof rubbed against my left breast, enjoying the feel of it as it slightly bounced about. “It kinda feels like somebody took one of Rarity’s hand-woven bags and filled it up with water.” She admitted. “Like a fancy water balloon.” She was still blushing, playing with how bouncy it was, how soft it felt against her own fur. Pony fur’s pretty soft too, like a cuddly teddy bear texture that makes you want to hug them. If you get a chance, hug a pony. Most won’t mind. I think they secretly like it.

But needless to say, Rainbow Dash wasn’t the only one who kept noticing my breasts. Pinkie kept poking them. Twilight wanted to analyze them under a microscope. And everyone in town would keep tossing glances right at them. I know they’re pretty big by your species standards. But it’s very aggravating. A woman isn’t just defined by her body. She just isn’t.

I finally had enough and told them that if they touched my chest again, I was gonna stuff 'em inside my breasts and see how they liked being trapped for a day. Pinkie decided to take this as a challenge, and began to drum on them like she was playing the bongos.

Well, that did it.  

In case you’re wondering, yes. She’s currently still in there and WOW is she heavy! She needs to lay off the cupcakes. I’ll let her out by tomorrow, but as of this writing, she’s still stuck in there and has taken to annoying me by singing “I Know A Song That Gets On Everypony’s Nerves”.

Though, to be fair, I wasn’t completely annoyed by Rainbow Dash’s behavior. It’s kinda cute that she’s somewhat attracted to me. It’s her Lesbian streak, I think. You should see her with Gilda. They’re so cute together.

Next chapter? Gryphons. I’ve got a lot to say about them and their society. And unlike with ponies, you should be more cautious in a different way.