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02/06/12(Mon)12:23 No.34022605
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 >>34022510
"...as much as Scootaloo flapped her tiny chicken wings, she was unable to escape the iron grip of the blue pony. The first punch was tentative, like a cat cautiously testing the softness of a cushion before resting on it, but the second punch was meant for bringing the hurt. Peppering Scootaloo's tiny, bawling body with barrage of haymakers, shovel hooks and overhands, Rainbow Dash considered how squeezing and whacking the bulbous orange head was redolent of playing volleyball. Strapped for ideas, she violently chafed the struggling filly against the hard surface of the road below, as if she were cleaning it with a small orange sponge that cried buckets of salty cleaning fluid, pockmarking the poor foal's body with festering cuts and bruises, before violently throwing her to the ground in a clumsy imitation of a touchdown. Pondering to herself, Rainbow Dash noticed that the mashed-up infant was trying pitifully to crawl away, wailing like a newborn for its mother (not that it had any). Dash violently grasped is forelegs and lifted it up to her face. One eye was closed, blueberry-coloured and watering, yet the other was a large, shiny orb, creased with the intense pain and spewing shiny rivulets of tears down its shivering, orange body. Dash looked into this eye with all the sagacious empathy and care of Celestia, and the foal brightened up, perhaps the pony had decided enough was enough? Rainbow Dash gave a coy giggle before snapping Scootaloo's dumpy chicken wings off in one fell swoop. The filly screamed its tiny lungs raw, as Dash violently pummelled its stomach while chewing on its tasty, still bleeding wings..." |
