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Speaking Her Language

By DaybreakerAnon
Created: 2022-12-30 05:36:44
Expiry: Never

shitpost anon pinkie pie zecora /marital problems/

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God damn, I was in low earth orbit when I wrote this one back in September.
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>be loserfaggot anon
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>Currently strutting towards sugarcube corner, you whistle the melody from Gerry Rafferty's "Baker Street" and play along on your air saxophone with reckless abandon
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>Walk around everywhere in a three piece suit and wear a green headsock with a question mark on the face because you're fucking retarded
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>No, not autistic
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>Well, hang on, if we're honest, you're probably on the spectrum
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>Whatever the case, you've got no sense of self-awareness, or tact, or-
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>Oh shit son, that guitar solo at the end though!
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>Dropping to a knee, you transition from air sax to air guitar and shred those last few bars before switching back to the sax for the outro.
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"BA BAP! BA DA BADABAA! BA BAP! BA DA WAAHHHHH-WAWAAA-"
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>The visual I have of Anon trying to vocalize the sax melody from this song, forsaking his air sax in favor of flailing his arms like Gary from Team America- you know that part in Gary's first mission where he ends up in the back of the jeep-
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>"It looks like he's saying, 'Kiss me, kiss me'."
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>"Smart-ass motherfucker!"
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>You know, that part
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>-scaring off any ponies within a ten meter radius of him is a lot funnier in my mind than what I'm typing. You're just gonna have to trust me on this one.
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>The song ends, and you open your eyes to see a ring of ponies surrounding you, none of them sure of what to make of the spectacle that they'd just witnessed.
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>Muscle memory delivers a perfect draw of finger pistols from invisible holsters, and you shoot a quick lil one-two pew-pew at Bon Bon, who just scoffs and trots away, prompting the crowd to follow suit.
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>Within seconds, the crowd's dispersed, save for one pony
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>Ackshually, Zecora isn't a pony- she's a zebra
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>Whatever.
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>She looks at you, her head tilted to the side, baby-blue eyes peering straight into your soul.
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"Didja like that? Baker Street is probably the best-known song off of Rafferty's 'City to City' album, but 'Right Down the Line' is actually my favorite track from it."
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>Zecora chuckles to herself and trots off, cart in tow, but not before giving you a smile
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>it's a nice feeling- to be smiled at.
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>most mares don't smile at you
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>pinkie doesn't count- she smiles at everyone
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"That feeling when no pony gf to cuddle with at night." you sigh as you rise and dust off your trousers.
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>Completely unrelated- The B-side of Supertramp's "Breakfast in America" album is underrated as hell
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>inb4 "b-b-but, muh 'Take the Long Way Home!'"
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>"Just Another Nervous Wreck" is the patrician choice
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>You visit with Pinkie Pie- one of the few ponies in town that you get along with pretty well- for a while
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>She tells you of her special project, donuts made specifically to help fill out Princess Luna's "mosquito bite flanks".
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>You damn near choked on your scone at that, but Pinkie assured you it was a super-serious commission from Princess Celestia herself.
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>Perhaps alicorns store magic in their ass?
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>The bigger the booty, the more heat they're packing?
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>Provisional headcanon: acquired
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>Anyway, it turned out that all the weight Luna gained from Pinkie's first batch of donuts went straight to her teats
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>tfw no moon milkies to bury your face in every night
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>Seeing as her mission was not yet accomplished, Pinkie bids you farewell and closes up the shop behind you.
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>Walk home alone, wondering how fat Luna's ass would have to be for you to be able to bounce a quarter off it
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>Man, that's going in the Spank Bank for later
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>Fast forward a few weeks
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>everything's pretty much the same
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>Everypony avoids you except Pinkie and Zecora
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>You've run into the latter in town more often lately
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>Now that you think about it, Zecora's actually very pretty
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>You decide to ask her out, since you've struck out with all the single mares in town
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>Normally, you'd be too much of a bitch to up and walk into the everfree unaccompanied, but you're backed up; ballsy in more ways than one
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>So off to the Everfree you go, whistling the chorus from Rebel Yell.
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>How should you woo this foreign beauty?
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>Several cheesy ideas float through your mind before you settle on what should've been the obvious choice
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>You'll speak her language
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>Now armed with a plan, you power walk along the trail to Zecora's hut
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>knock knock knock
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>The door swings open after a few seconds
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>Zecora's initial surprise gives way to a welcoming smile
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>"Mister Anon, I thought I'd heard you- nopony has a gait quite like you do."
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>Your knees are weak, palms spaghetti, the works
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"Uh, hi... Z-Zecora..."
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>Her smile fades.
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>She rears up on her hind legs and touches a hoof to your clammy forehead
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"Mister Anon, are you not feeling well? Did you come in search of a healing spell?
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>C'mon Anon... you can do this.
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>Be confident
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"Actually Zecora, I am feeling a little under the weather."
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>"Do not hesitate, Anon... talk to me, speak! Which condition afflicts you, what's the treatment you seek?"
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>Now's your chance, Anon- speak her language
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"I've got this strange fever, the old jungle type. The only known cure's an ass covered in stripes. Zecora, I need you, DID nofap for weeks... I want to plow into your DUMP. TRUCK. CHEEKS."
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>The rest, as they say, is history.
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>Seven years and a platoon's worth of ziglets later, you're at your wit's end, wondering how the fuck you're gonna support yet another foal.
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>How were you supposed to know that your rhyming would woo the figurative pants off Zecora that easily?
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>It's not like you knew Zecora was even more starved for companionship than you.
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>Better yet, who knew you could even knock up a little talking zebra?
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>Certainly not you.
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>One of your little savages whines in rhyme that his sister shoved his snout in poison joke.
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>Five others tell you they're hungry.
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>Something,something... Marital Problems
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The End