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!AUGPONI2JY 01/29/12(Sun)05:39 No.33749533>>33749065 >>33749525
>The fuck. >No, seriously. What in the goddamn fuck. There's a pony in your minifridge. >Why is there a small brown-glass pony full of beer in your minifridge instead of regular, ordinary bottles of beer? >He looks at you, bleary-eyed, and slurs out "Oh, hithereee. I...guess yer m'owner, then. Nice t'meet'cha." He gets to his hooves, wobbling like a newborn foal, and stumbles out onto the concrete floor. "M'not drunk. S'jus' part of th' 'charm', or so's they tol' me..." He belches, then screws up his face. "Fuckers. The lot of 'em." He's...oh, roughly the same size as Sriracha? Slightly heavier build though, and as he stumbles about you realize that he's most definitely male. "Lemme guess. Y'had a long day or week or wha'ever, an' you need a beer?" >You nod. >Suddenly, beer pony is leaning against your ankle. "Then I'm yer new bes' frien'. Where's th' teevee in this dump? Lemme get you nice'n'shitfaced, I'll take yer mind off things."
I see beer pony as being, despite being compelled to act drunk by marketing, the stone-sober Good Guy Greg of food ponies. |