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05/24/11(Tue)04:25 No.26209168Rorschach's Journal, May 22nd, 2011.
Pony carcass in alley this morning, tired tread on burst stomach. This village is afraid of me. I have seen it's true face. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth with all of their sex and murder will foam up about their manes and all the Ponies and Royalty will look up and shout "Save us!"... and i'll look down, and whisper "no." They had a choice, all of them. They could have followed in the footsteps of good ponies like my father or Princess Faust. Decent Ponies, who believed in a day's work for a day's pay. Instead they followed the droppings of lechers and Princess Celstia and didn't realize that the trail led over a precipice until it was too late. Don't tell me they didn't have a choice. Now the whole world stands on the brink, staring down into bloody hell, all the Royalty and Magicians and smooth-talkers... and all of a sudden, nopony can think of anything to say. |