2454: Cupcakes, Part 2 — Crappy Pasta

-WARNING-
While this so-called horror story continues to resoundingly fail at being even remotely scary, it starts to hit pretty hard with the gross-out attempts in terms of blood and guts and also a bizarre focus on the actions of Rainbow Dash’s bladder.

Title: Cupcakes
Author: Sergeant Sprinkles
Media: Cartoon
Topic: My Little Pony
Genre: Creepypasta / “Horror” / Torture Porn
URL: Creepypasta Wiki Rehost
Critiqued by AdmiralSakai and Serketry

Hello hello all you patrons! Inflate your favorite organs and sort your pegasus wings by color because we are back with more Cupcakes goodness.

Don’t you mean…

baked_bads

Hey y’all, Serketry here. Again. Until this fic is as dead as Rainbow Dash. 

And, of course, by ‘goodness’ I mean ‘incredibly repetitive foreshadowing of incredibly repetitive torture porn’.

Last time, Pinkie Pie fed Rainbow Dash a drugged cupcake and tied her up in a torture chamber underneath Sugar Cube Corner. Much capering and posing with skulls ensued, but it was all pretty pointless. And…. that’s literally it.

dootober_by_paw_of_darkness_ddhidu5-fullview.jpg

EDITED BY EDINPONY COUNTER: 6

Dubiously sexual counter: 4

Putting down Gilda’s skull, the pink pony gripped a scalpel in the cleft of her hoof and walked over to Dash’s right flank. Without any flair, Pinkie placed the blade an inch above Dash’s cutie mark and began a circular cut around it. Dash shouted in pain and tried desperately to pull away, but the braces held her still.

Which is odd because there was nothing about the binding of her limbs that would prevent her hips from moving.

If her legs were pulled taut, it’d be pretty hard to flinch away from the knife.

Although she was also described as ‘writhing’ around beforehand.

 Finishing the incision, Pinkie grabbed a curved skinning knife from the tray. Screwing up her face in concentration, she worked it under Dash’s skin and sliced the hide away from the muscle. Dash ground her teeth as she tearfully watched her flesh peel off.

How can she actually see her own flanks?

Remember, ponies’ eyes are on the sides of their heads, with a much wider field of vision than humans. She probably can just look down and see behind her. 

Her head is immobilized, though.

Pinkie then moved to the other side and repeated the process on Dash’s left flank. Once she had finished, Pinkie held up both cutie marks in front of her friend and started waving them like pompoms.

Pompoms generally aren’t flat. 

Dash just whimpered. Her thighs burned like nothing she had felt before.

Placing the ragged patches of skin down, Pinkie selected a large butcher knife and walked behind the blue pegasus.

Behind the blue pegasus. Who is currently chained to the wall. 

Yeah, wow, what is with that?

Told you Pinkie can noclip.

“Hope you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna wing it now,” Pinkie laughed.

She grabbed Dash’s left wing in her mouth and played with it for a few seconds, yanking it back so the sharp pain reignited the fire in Dash’s flanks.

Dubiously sexual counter: 5

Now sure why trauma to her wing would cause incisions on her flanks to hurt more, but whatever.

Then, stretching the wing out, Pinkie brought the blade down hard at the base. Instantly, Dash screamed and thrashed her appendage. The movement threw off Pinkie’s aim. She tried to hit the mark again but missed, and carved a huge slice into Dash’s back.

And, apparently, the table has completely merged with the quantum foam at this point and is both solid and not solid at any given time. I am sort of imagining it spazzing out like a glitchy physics prop when Pinkie reaches through it.

“Dash, you gotta stay still or I’ll keep missing,” scolded Pinkie as her friend howled.

Pinkie took another whack and hit her target. She swung again and again. Blood sprayed into the air, but Pinkie realized she wasn’t getting anywhere.

IT ONLY TOOK HER FIFTEEN PAGES.

 The blade just wasn’t going through the bone.

“Hmm, I guess I forgot to sharpen it. I’ll try something else,” stated Pinkie matter-of-factly as she tossed the knife over her shoulder, embedding the blade in the table. Through the haze of pain and tears, Dash heard the sound of a metal box opening and closing.

“Got it! Say Dash, why do they call it a hack saw? It doesn’t hack; hacking is what I was doing with the knife. This is a saw. I don’t get it.”

Actually why is it called a hacksaw?

It’s actually a brand name from over 100 years ago, but no one calls it the generic name. 

Well at least I learned something today.

Pinkie placed the tool over the mangled flesh of the last attempt. Standing on her hind legs, she worked the saw back and forth with her front hooves. It sliced effortlessly through the bone and skin. The feeling of the jagged teeth grinding into her made Dash want to vomit. She watched numbly as her wing flew over her head and landed with a fluff on the table.

Landed with a… fluff?

I don’t know what word the author was going for there but he seems to have missed.

I could see a rustle as the feathers hit the counter, but that’s it. 

EDITED BY EDINPONY COUNTER: 7

 Pinkie moved to the next wing and started sawing.

SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWING INNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN MY SAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW…

Dash didn’t struggle this time; she’d given up trying to fight and focused on choking back screams of agony. Abruptly, the sawing paused. Pinkie was only half way done, the wing hanging off by a sliver.

“Hey Dash,” Pinkie piped up. “Think fast!”

Suddenly, Pinkie yanked the wing as hard as she could. The bone snapped but the blue pony’s skin held, then tore away. The pull ripped away a long strip of flesh all the way down Dash’s back to her rump. Her body seized at the unexpected trauma. As her pelvis tensed up, Dash felt a warm release between her legs,

…because we needed to know that. 

Dubiously sexual counter: 6

 and her loud, unending melody of pain filled the room.

Unable to catch her breath, she blacked out.

With the double amputation and blood loss, going into shock is entirely the right response. 

That or the ‘fic just bored her into catatonia, because even by torture porn standards this is kinda paint-by-numbers. Actually, no, that’s a bad metaphor, it’s more like an outline or a flow chart.

cupcakes logic

Dash awoke with a gasp. The stench of her urine filled her mucus caked nostrils. As her vision swam into focus, she saw a very pouty Pinkie Pie removing a large adrenaline needle from her chest.

See, I’m pretty sure this is Pinkie retrieving the needle, but with this fic, I can’t tell if she pulled a scene from Pulp Fiction on herself.

 Stomping her hooves, the frustrated Pinkie lashed out at her helpless victim.

“Didn’t anybody teach you any manners? It’s very rude to fall asleep when somebody invites you over to spend time with them.

Isn’t that what a sleepover is?

How would you like it if I came over to your house and went to sleep? ‘Oh I’m sorry Dash, you’re so boring I think I’ll take a nap.’

Yes, Pringles. Yes you are that boring.

 You think I like always doing this by myself?

If you don’t then why are you still doing it? It literally serves no other purpose.

I told you how excited I got when I found you were next. I was excited to have a friend be here with me while I worked. But NOOOOO! You’ve got to be inconsiderate. You know, I thought you were tough. I thought you could handle anything.

No, Pinkie, she wouldn’t join the Wonderbolts officially for another 5 seasons. 

I’ve had foals stand up better than you! Do I have to baby you? Huh? Is that how you want me to remember you, as a baby?”

I am sure there is fanfiction of it. Way, way too much fanfiction of it.

As Pinkie stopped to catch her breath, Dash blinked and sobbed softly. Her back was in agony, her sides were on fire, and there was an intense pain in one of her legs.

Wait, what happened to her leg? Did the author lose track of his flowchart??

 As she blinked again, she saw Pinkie pop something red into her mouth and began to chew. Noticing Dash’s stare, Pinkie quickly gulped the morsel down.

“What?” Pinkie asked. “Oh, this?” She held up another piece. “Well, while YOU were asleep, I got a little impatient and helped myself to a small sample. I got it from your leg; you’re not bad. Wanna try some?”

Oh… when someone mentions popping something into their mouth, I think pills, so I thought Pinkie took a red pill. I don’t know, more adrenaline, because the needle to the heart wasn’t enough. I get it now, she’s eating RD’s leg. Because GRIMDARK.

I’m sure there is fanfiction where Pinkie Pie gets involved with the Red Pills as well. Although it’s a toss-up whether I’d rather be reading it or Cupcakes.

Without waiting for a response, Pinkie shoved the strip of meat into the revolted pegasus pony’s mouth. Dash gagged, and immediately spit it out. Pinkie frowned, and picked up the chunk of flesh. “If you didn’t want it, you could have said no.” She contemplated the discarded snotty morsel, then gulped it up. “It’s not like you haven’t had my cupcakes before.”

I am still unclear on how you get meat into a baked good and have the result be not immediately noticeable.

I guess you would cook it down to protein powder and mix that in, or your could render the bones down to gelatin, or you could also render the fat down to cooking oil…

I mean, you could put very small amounts of anything in a cupcake and have it not be noticeable, but that would defeat the point of making it a flavoring.

Although I’m sure that, like, bacon or pepperoni cupcakes do in fact exist. And having taken a break for dinner a little while ago while comprising the riff I have no desire to experience them.

“Burger King at its finest!”

Swallowing, Pinkie turned her attention to a small can on the tray. She removed the lid, revealing that it was filled with red-hot coals.

…why would burning coals be kept in a sealed can? Wouldn’t that cause them to burn out faster?

Yeah that is strange.

I love how, when reviewing a story where a talking horse from a children’s show abducts another talking horse from a children’s show and tortures her to death in graphic detail, the thing we chose to get pissy about is that the hot coals aren’t properly ventilated.

I mean, we’re just accepting that Pinkie’s a deranged serial killer, but this doesn’t make logical sense!

Such is the way of the Celebrian Zone, man. We have slipped beyond the realm of pain and can now only experience boredom. We’re like cenobites that all of the other cenobites try to avoid at parties.

Lying on top of the coals were several large nails. As the adrenalin filled her veins, Dash began to panic again. Picking up the can, Pinkie walked over to Dash’s left. Holding some tongs with her mouth, Pinkie carefully picked up a nail

So what was the point of carrying the whole can over, then?

 and positioned it at the seam between her victim’s front left leg and hoof. She then grabbed a hammer and took careful aim.

“No Pinkie!” Dash screamed. “NO! NO!”

 

The hammer came down and the nail punctured Dash’s skin.

So, that’s the nail bed, where new hoof material is produced. Yeah, I bet that’d hurt… except due to the hooves’ curved geometry the straight nails will overshoot, punching through the non-living hoof, resembling a particularly egregious horse-shoeing. 

I think the idea is that she did it perpendicular to the surface of the hoof itself, but hooves are slippery and it seems like the nail would just slide off with any real pressure and be incredibly awkward to actually hit

It’s like Sarge was trying to replicate the bamboo shoots under the fingernails torture trick, except that’s impossible to perform on equine anatomy. 

I think we’ve gotten to the point that every shitty MLP ‘fic gets to where the author forgets his characters aren’t human. Which is somehow still better than the straight-up humanized ‘fics because they fuck up the anatomy there too.

The white hot burning was too much. Dash screamed as she pulled and thrashed at the braces, causing her raw skin to rub and tear. Pinkie tried to line up another nail, but couldn’t find her aim, and let out a frustrated grunt. When Pinkie brought the hammer back to take a wild swing, Dash burst out crying and begging.

“PLEASE STOP! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!”

Pinkie rolled her eyes. Putting down the hammer and tongs, she walked back in front of her friend and stared pensively at the broken pegasus. Gilda didn’t even cry this much when she had a live parasprite stuffed down her throat.

Probably because, parasprites being about the size of a small apple, Gilda was unable to breathe.

I think what they’re implying is the parasprite started replicating in her throat. Which would suck… for all of 10 minutes, after which total brain death from suffocation would end the ‘fun’. 

Actually, why would it replicate? Parasprites are, in their natural form, scavenging bugs. If one was stuck in a very tight, very unstable, probably quite loud space that smells overwelmingly of apex predator, I’d imagine the very last thing it’d think about was reproducing.

Aaaaand I’m suddenly uncomfortably reminded of the assorted urban legends about people stuffing live animals in their various orifices to achieve sexual gratification.

Dubiously sexual counter: 7

Also, wait, if Pinkie has live parasprites down here how is she able to maintain so much perfectly edible organic material?

Obviously she has the ones Twilight manipulated to eat inorganic matter… except that wouldn’t explain why they didn’t eat the building. 

 Pinkie thought for a minute about what to do next, then had a sudden spark of inspiration.

Rotating a wheel on the rack, Pinkie laid Dash on her back,

Wait, then how was she swinging hammers at the side of Dash’s hoof when Dash was facing vertically?

 then moved to Dash’s hind legs, bringing the can with her. Picking up her tools, Pinkie drove a searing hot spike of metal directly into the bottom of Dash’s hoof.

Ah, that’s the frog. Yeah, yeah that’d probably really hurt. Horses have a pump system at the ends of their hooves to help stimulate blood flow in their extremities. And now there’s a nail through it. RD’s probably going to bleed to death even faster. As if the loss of 2 limbs didn’t put her down already. 

Once again, you know you’re in the Celebrian Zone when your reaction to a character managing to properly cause serious injury to another is “well it’s about damn time”.

As Dash yelled in pain, Pinkie moved around and drove a second nail into the other hoof. Next, Pinkie went back to her cart and located an enormous battery and controller,

The… horror?

which she dragged over to where she was working. She tied copper wires between the terminals and the nails driven into Dash’s hooves, then gave Dash a wink and flipped the switch.

Electricity rocketed through Dash’s body. The blue pony reacted immediately; her body seized, and her muscles snapped taut. Dash’s hips thrust skyward, her eyes rolled back, and she let out a deep, throat shredding cry. Pinkie giggled and danced in place, then reached down and turned up the juice. Dash convulsed uncontrollably, and her bladder emptied once more.

I JUST HELPED THE ADMIRAL EXPLAIN ELECTROCUTION, IT DOESN’T WORK LIKE THIS. Especially with a current that bypasses the skin; as few as 500 mA DC can cause immediate cardiac arrest. RD is DEAD

And, once again, the author has to take a moment to describe what’s going on with RD’s hips and her bladder.

Dubiously sexual counter: 8

And, once again, her hips are moving around when they were immobilized during the cutie-mark removal.

After about five minutes, Pinkie shut off the power.

Yeah, now she’s more of a Rainbow Ash.

 Wisps of steam rose from the singed fur around Dash’s hooves, and the area reeked of cooked flesh and burnt enamel.

I am fairly certain hooves, like fingernails, are made of dense, multilayered keratin. More to the point, if RD’s hooves are cooked, SHE. IS. DEAD. 

Pinkie rotated Dash upright again and tried snap the drooling, delirious pony back to attention.

“Dash? Dash! Rainbow Dash, wake up!” Dash moaned and managed to give a modicum of weak acknowledgment. Pinkie studied her handiwork, then reached into the medicine bag and produced a large syringe. “Alright, time for the last round.”

I think it’s interesting that this section of the ‘fic has few if any typos in it. This will be an important piece of circumstantial evidence when I wrap things up, because weirdly it’s the filler scenes that would seem to have been written one-handed.

Dash focused blearily on the needle, which Pinkie took as a question as to what it was.

“This is a little something to take the pain away,” Pinkie informed Dash

To do that, you’re going to have to stop talking.

 as she walked around to her victim’s ruined back. Dash flinched as Pinkie jabbed the needle into the lower part of the blue pony’s spine.

Which is… still up against the wall. Rack. Whatever. The point is, something solid.

 Moving in front of her friend again, Pinkie leaned down and elaborated.

“In a few minutes, you won’t be able to feel anything below your ribcage.

Um… Pinkie just performed local anesthesia on RD’s lower spine. If Pinkie wanted RD’s chest cavity numbed, she needed to go for the C7 vertebra. Obviously. 

Then you’ll be able to stay awake to watch the harvest.”

Dash started to cry again. “Pinkie?” she choked out.

“Yeah?”

“I want to go home,” Dash sobbed.

We all do. Don’t worry, RD, we’re on the last page, more or less. 

“Yeah, I can see wanting to do that,” replied the party pony. “Sometimes, I just wanna give up, just say ‘I’m done with this mess’ and go to bed.

So do I, but then shit like this that legitimately kind of pisses me off happens and I get back into it. And, I mean, can you imagine the Matrix-like technological hellscape the world would be if I applied this level of mean-spirited persistence to my actual job?

 But you know what? You can’t shrug off your responsibilities. You got to pull yourself up and meet the challenges head on. That’s the only way you’re gonna get ahead in life.”

Dash hung her head

Which was still supposed to be strapped in place…

 and cried.

Minutes passed as the drug took effect.

Uh, haha, no… if that really was morphine, or a similar opioid, delivered directly into RD’s spine, she was numb before Pinkie withdrew the syringe. In fact, she’s probably paralyzed, if the electrocution didn’t kill all the nerves already. 

See, this is why I brought you in for this riff!

That, and the screencaps.

Eventually, Dash was completely numb from her chest to her flanks.

Shit! That was our last song! We’re running out of terrible emo music!

How does that even happen!?

Quick, I’ll grab the Freak Out Extreme Freeride OST!

At this point, Pinkie approached with a scalpel. Glancing at Dash and smiling, Pinkie made a long horizontal cut across the pegasus pony’s pelvis, just above her crotch.

Dubiously sexual counter: 9

Moving up Dash’s body, Pinkie made a similar incision under her ribs. Finally, Pinkie made a long vertical cut down Dash’s stomach, connecting the first two.

“Looks like I got my ‘I’ on you, Dash,” Pinkie giggled.

Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahp.

With a moist, gooey sound, the flaps of skin opened. The sight of her own organs and the lack of feeling caused Dash’s breathing to intensify.

No… the opioids and shock should be putting her into respiratory decline. RD should be dead 4 times over by now. 

Pinkie carefully sliced open Dash’s abdominal sac and grabbed her large intestines. As she separated the organ from the rest of the digestive tract and pulled it out of the new cavity,

What ‘new’ cavity? It’s always called the abdominal cavity, now matter what organs are or aren’t inside at the moment. Why do I know this, and why am I having to explain this?

I guess he means the incision, but once again that’s not what he wrote.

EDITED BY EDINPONY COUNTER: 8

Pinkie grew jovial. Laughing as she gutted her friend, Pinkie began to make jokes.

Thanks for abstracting them out, I guess. Makes this run shorter. 

Dash, growing weaker from this new source of blood loss, tried desperately to shut out the macabre comedy act.

“Look at me, I’m Rarity!” Pinkie laughed, slinging the intestinal tube around her neck and spraying blood in all directions. “Isn’t my new scarf soooo pretty?”

Ok so here’s another question. How does Pinkie Pie not have all the diseases by now? She eats other ponies, raw, in the same room where she waves their intestines around. I mean, maybe she disinfects everything in between runs, but still, you don’t have lunch in a pathology lab.

You’d be surprised how many people eat in the pathology lab. 

Reaching back inside, she sliced the smaller intestine off from the bowls.

The…. bowls?

EDITED BY EDINPONY COUNTER: 9

 Squeezing out the excess excrement, Pinkie filed the slimy organ through her teeth and dragged it back and forth. “Dentists say you gotta floss every day, Dash.”

ALL

 

THE

 

DISEASES

 

I’m also pretty sure the small intestine isn’t compressible enough to fit between somepony’s teeth. Unless it’s been turned into drawstring. 

Dash was barely aware of what was going on anymore.

Actually neither are we. Each organ gets like three lines and a joke, and nothing else is described.

 The shock was causing her to fade. Disappointed, Pinkie dived back into the blue pony’s guts, ramping up her routine.

“Aw, don’t go yet Dash.” Pinkie started pulling out the rest of Dash’s organs, pausing with each removal. “I know I can be a real pancreas, but you know I’m just kidney with you.

You really know how to slay ‘em, Pinkie. 

*whap*

Don’t you start, too.

You really got to learn to liver it up. Boy, these jokes are getting bladder. Guess ya gotta develop a stomach for them.”

make-it-stop-1

doublefacepalm

Pinkie placed the discarded body parts into a bucket, keeping the last one for bit longer.

EDITED BY EDINPONY COUNTER: 9

Oh, so, actually, now that I mention there haven’t been any typos the typos come back.

 “Ooo, bagpipes.” she said, placing the end of Dash’s esophagus in her mouth and the stomach in her armpit.

FUCK DAMMIT! THAT THING IS STILL A WAR CRIME!

She squeezed, and a spurt of acid hit her tongue. “Eww! Oh hey look, there’s your cupcake, Dash!”

Dash didn’t hear her tormentor. She had slipped from conciseness minutes ago.

No, I’m pretty sure the ‘fic slipped from conciseness in its very first paragraph.

EDITED BY EDINPONY COUNTER: 10

Pinkie, not yet satisfied, hit Dash with another adrenaline shot.

When did Pinkie ever administer the first adrenaline shot?

I think after she got electrocuted?

No I thought that was the morphine.

Maybe it was after her wings got cut off?

No, she pulled it out of her chest, but I don’t think she actually gave it to her. 

Once again, I love how we are talking about this in the same way ordinary people would be asking each other if we took the left turn at Texas City.

Hey man, I never got us lost! Traffic was just that bad!

CELEBRIAN ZONE, LADIES AND GENTS!

OH WAIT! Pinkie didn’t pull the needle out of her chest, she pulled it out of Rainbow Dash’s! It all makes sense now!

Except for LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE OTHER THING THAT HAPPENED IN THIS ‘FIC.

Dash woke up for the last time, her heart pounding. Warm blood flowed out from the wound in her chest in great spurts. It wouldn’t be long now.

…do you know how much blood flows through the intestinal tract? Trick question, all of it does, but the point is, a series of large arteries feed all the organs Pinkie removed. RD is dead… 5 times over now?

Pinkie brought Dash around onto her back again and straddled the blue pony’s chest, scalpel at the ready.

“Ya know, Rainbow Dash, I’m disappointed. I thought you would have lasted longer. I really wanted to spend more time with you before we got here. But I guess it’s my fault; I should have taken it a little slower. Oh well. It was really was nice knowing you, Dash!”

The blade sunk into the blue throat

Not, like Dash’s blue throat, just a random other blue throat that Pinkie Pie happened to have lying around.

… he joked, before remembering that with the setup Pinkie has in this ‘fic that is entirely possible.

 and worked its way up to Dash’s chin. Coming back down, Pinkie’s scalpel then circled Dash’s neck. The last thing Rainbow Dash felt was her skin being cut away from her skull, and the metal of the blade scraping her teeth.

…why would the blade be anywhere near her teeth? Circling the jawline I understand, but it’d be easier to slice up the back of the head to pull the face forward and off… wow, I’m just gonna stop right here. 

Yeah, just a quick public service announcement to everyone- don’t ever piss off the biology majors in your life.

Hey! I’m not some washout zoologist bio major, my degree is in Mathematical Biology and you know it!

Then she was gone.

Fuckin’ finally. 

Odd that that’s what finally kills her after all of this other bullshit.

Pinkie Pie stared into the mirror. She had done a really good job, even keeping the eyelids. She winked, and Dash winked back. Pinkie smiled.

Wait so how are Dash’s eyelids affixed to Pinkie’s own?? Glue???

Sticky blood and capillary action, probably. 

Fair. Probably the same effect that has slowed down the plot so much.

But still, she was sad that her friend was now gone. Dash had only lasted fifty minutes,

50? Five-zero? Pinkie electrocuted her for a solid 5 minutes in, like a single line, and RD lost consciousness twice. I think that took more than 45 minutes of cutting. Certainly felt like it, to read. 

Gosh, it’s almost like the author didn’t think this through or something!

not nearly as long as Pinkie had wanted. She looked back at the cadaver hanging in the center of the room, the last of her friend’s fluids draining into a pan. Yup, no more Rainbow Dash.

As she looked, Pinkie cocked her head. She began to take notice of the fact that there really wasn’t much damage to the corpse.

Wasn’t much damage? RD’s legs should be on fire after how much current went through them. And her abdominal cavity is sliced open. And her wings are gone. And a large chunk of skin was ripped off her back, as well as her cutie marks. And her wings were roughly hacked off. AND HER FACE IS MISSING. 

Yes, but what about her facial tissue??

“In fact,” the pink pony mused, “I think….” An idea exploded in her head.

It then quickly dissipated, as explosions in vacuum are wont to do.

 She was good at sewing and she had all the pieces, all she had to do was put them back together.

Yeah that’s totally how that works.

Wrong pony, dunkass, Fluttershy’s the non-Rarity pony who’s good at sewing. 

Yeah, she just had to get some stuffing and bingo, she’d have Rainbow Dash forever.

Oh, don’t worry, Pinkie, you have padding to spare.

In fact, thought Pinkie, that’s what she’d do for all her best friends when their numbers came up. She was so excited, she skipped right over to the body with her skinner to get started. The cupcakes could wait; Pinkie Pie had a friend to make.

…look, I know this is… wow, it’s actually over, but I know enough about taxidermy to tell you you’re supposed to keep the skin intact as much as possible. You idiot. If you wanted a life-sized RD plushie, you should’ve boiled her- ah fuck, I’m done giving advise to this fuckup. 

So that was Cupcakes.

You know, I said I hadn’t read this… and after riffing it, I still don’t think I did. 

Yeah that about sums it up, actually.

RD is redundantly dead counter: 5

EDITED BY EDINPONY COUNTER: 10

Dubiously sexual counter: 9

It was, in fact, awful, but in a weird way I feel like I did learn something from reading it cover-to-cover that I had not really considered before. When I decided to start this riff I had kind of three theories about why this ‘fic even existed:

  1. The author or his fans are getting off to it.
  2. The author had some kind of weird hate-on for Rainbow Dash and in Mykanian fashion decided that having a bunch of implausible bad shit happen to her would somehow vindicate him.
  3. He was just doing this to fuck with people, possibly deliberately evoking Option 1 and/or 2.

However, now that I have read the whole thing and sat through the insanely, stupidly long pre-torture part of it, I have a fourth theory- that the author thought it would be funny or clever or subversive or something to set Pinkie Pie’s LOLRANDOM level up to 11, and then give her a literal captive audience to dance around in front of because he is another one of those insufferable people who thought the best Joker was the one from Suicide Squad.

No, admiral, I kinda gotta disagree with that. If this really was supposed to showcase an edgy Pinkie, where was she? She cracked a handful of jokes – all piled into the same theme – and did practically none of the typical overblown Pinkie Pie™ wackiness that Season 1 Pinkie was associated with. Where’s the song and dance number? It just isn’t a Pinkie Pie episode without singing! Ironically it wasn’t over-the-top enough. 

I mean, any of them are possible. 3 is particularly difficult to rule out because you could argue that any of the story’s failings are just another layer of intentional badness. But, really, I can look at any of these options and explain, in detail, how the ‘fic fails to accomplish any of them.

Option 1:

Option 2:

Having a bunch of implausible bad shit happen to a character does not make your favorite character look tougher than them. Pinkie is both an asshole and an idiot in this ‘fic, and Rainbow Dash is just basically the equivalent of a tackle-dummy filled with HYPOER REALISTIC BL00D. If anything she’s the more sympathetic character for putting up with this shit.

 

Option 3:

It’s not just bad, it’s boring bad. I could barely get through it with riffing and now I know why I had never read it cover-to-cover before. Serketry was able to riff on the anatomy more towards the end, but there was that one long section where I had literally nothing to say. The entire ‘fic is long and repetitive and slow, so people are just going to be too beaten-down by it to actually even see how bad it is 99% of the time.

I think this is the most accurate theory, but again, if this had come out 3 months earlier or later, I highly doubt it would’ve reached the same… cultural infamy. Without Party of One to prop it up, it would’ve been swiftly forgotten and sunk to the bottom of the other slurry written in that era. I mean, this can’t have been the only torture porn written during Season 1. Hell, it wasn’t even the first torture porn written for My Little Pony, not by a longshot. But do we remember any of the others? The early ones? Because I sure don’t. This is a trollfic that got lucky

 

Option 4:

Serketry actually summed up the problems with that pretty eloquently above.

 

So, yeah.

Cupcakes.

Is.

Shit.

No, admiral. Cupcakes is Ponies. In a manner both literally and metaphorically scarier than anything in this piece of shit. 

You know, I had half a mind to exfictionate this version of Dash, revive and robotize her, and send her after Jeff clones at the end of their pastas. But she herself would probably consist of nothing but concentrated Edge, and that stuff is really tough to get out of the carpet. It keeps cutting through the vacuum bags.

Hey, you know what the weird part is? Serketry suggested adding something about the fact that the actual show ended in between the first and second riffs, but we thought about it and thought about it and realized we had nothing to say. Cupcakes has zero relation to the overall arc of the canon it has come to partially define to the rest of the Internet. That’s kind of amazing.

I don’t know… this was truly one of the first shitfics to break through into brony culture, and I feel like now’s a good time, as My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is lowered into the ground, to take Cupcakes out behind the woodshed and put two in its skull.

Pony is dead.

Long. Live. Pony.


78 Comments on “2454: Cupcakes, Part 2 — Crappy Pasta”

  1. Zeus Killer says:

    From what I heard, option 3 is the closest to reality, but the author didn’t think it was gonna catch on.

    • SC says:

      Per the TV Tropes page (because duh, this fic has a TV Tropes page), the author wrote it to fuck around and see if it would get views, and legitimately was not expecting it to blow up as big as it did.

      Which is almost as funny to me as the author of Celebrian coming out and being all, “Yeah, I was just doing this to troll people, honestly, even I think this fic is trash.”

  2. GhostCat says:

    Once she had finished, Pinkie held up both cutie marks in front of her friend and started waving them like pompoms.

    Pompoms generally aren’t flat.

    Or wet, squishy slabs that are likely flinging blood and fat all over the place.

    Also – isn’t she supposed to be chained to a wall with her legs pinned out? The cutie marks are on the outside of her flanks, which would be facing the wall.

  3. BatJamags says:

    Putting down Gilda’s skull, the pink pony gripped a scalpel in the cleft of her hoof

    The what?

    So, based on what I’ve seen, the animation style renders show-ponies hooves as kind of amorphous blobs, but one would assume that they, like real horses, are odd-toed ungulates whose hooves have no cleft.

    And once again, I have encountered a Wikipedia article which is far more interesting than the fic at hand.

    • Serketry says:

      Other end of the hoof. There’s a fleshy cleft that runs up the back of the hoof that’s sometimes depicted in the show. That, and hoofgrip (not my term, just *the* term) is infrequent enough of on the show that we usually just write it off.

  4. BatJamags says:

    Without any flair, Pinkie placed the blade an inch above Dash’s cutie mark and began a circular cut around it.

    Without any flair?! What do you call the first half of this thing?!

  5. BatJamags says:

    “Hope you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna wing it now,” Pinkie laughed.

    Except we have no reason to view this step as particularly more improvisational than any of the rest of this sequence (and indeed she seems to have done it at least six times before so it was almost certainly planned), so the pun doesn’t work.

    • BatJamags says:

      “Looks like I got my ‘I’ on you, Dash,” Pinkie giggled.

      OK, that one works on multiple levels. Six out of ten, kid. You’ll get the hang of this yet.

      • BatJamags says:

        “I know I can be a real pancreas, but you know I’m just kidney with you. You really got to learn to liver it up. Boy, these jokes are getting bladder. Guess ya gotta develop a stomach for them.”

        No, no, you kinda lost the thread there. Should’ve left off with the kidney one.

  6. GhostCat says:

    The stench of her urine filled her mucus caked nostrils.

    She’s in a torture basement filled with the decomposing remains of several others; urine is probably the least of what she’s smelling.

  7. BatJamags says:

    Pinkie took another whack and hit her target. She swung again and again. Blood sprayed into the air, but Pinkie realized she wasn’t getting anywhere.

    I repeat: You have done this before, you moron.

  8. GhostCat says:

    She contemplated the discarded snotty morsel

    How did it get all snotty if it was in RD’s mouth? That’s not where mucus goes. Although gods only know what’s on that floor.

  9. BatJamags says:

    “Got it! Say Dash, why do they call it a hack saw? It doesn’t hack; hacking is what I was doing with the knife. This is a saw.

    “And the only hack here is the author.”

  10. BatJamags says:

    As her pelvis tensed up, Dash felt a warm release between her legs,

    Is it weird that this is the part that’s finally gotten a reaction out of me? Instead of just exasperated I’m mildly surprised and even more exasperated.

  11. GhostCat says:

    We’re like cenobites that all of the other cenobites try to avoid at parties.

    Which is a pretty accurate description of a Librarian, to be honest; although we usually have more questionable fashion sense than the cenobites.

    • SC says:

      Now what, may I ask, is questionable about a turtleneck with rolled-up sleeves and blue jeans (which is what my avatar was when I sent it in for the banner header, but the artist decided to give me a grey T-shirt instead)?

      • BatJamags says:

        Well obviously the artist thinks it’s questionable. Must be because you roll up your turtleneck sleeves. That’s just weird, man.

        This would normally be the point where I’d snark at my own fashion sense, but honestly, the worst thing I do fashion-wise is that I tend to be overdressed.

        I also wear sunglasses even at night, which I try to justify by saying they correct for my color deficiency but is actually just to look cool.

        • SC says:

          Admit it, you wear your sunglasses at night, so you can, so you can, watch us weave then breathe our story lines.

        • GhostCat says:

          I’ve met several Librarians in person and the unifying wardrobe theme seems to be “we like geeky t-shirts”.

        • SC says:

          If you ever find an excuse to travel up to Mendocino County in California, and somehow manage to track down my house (because I’m an antisocial hermit and so don’t go outside or interact with people at all if I don’t have to), you will discover that my wardrobe consists not of geeky shirts, but plain shirts of varying shades of white and blue, or shirts that say “Alaska” on them because my folks got them as vacation souvenirs and gave them to me.

        • GhostCat says:

          I have no desire to visit the Land of Exploding Power Lines any time soon, but I am now picturing you in a cozy little nest made out of souvenir t-shirts in a cave somewhere.

        • AdmiralSakai says:

          I have four whole different varieties of shirt! Some are black with short sleeves, some are black with long sleeves, some are gray with short sleeves, and some are gray with long sleeves. One also has a collar!

        • GhostCat says:

          They call those “capsule wardrobes” now; having several outfits that you can mix and match in different combinations without having to introduce new pieces. It’s part of the minimalist aesthetic, and also an excellent excuse not to shop for new work clothes.

        • SC says:

          I have no desire to visit the Land of Exploding Power Lines any time soon,

          Perfectly reasonable, our gas prices are bullshit anyhow.

          but I am now picturing you in a cozy little nest made out of souvenir t-shirts in a cave somewhere.

          …I mean, kinda. Though if I ever bother to clean my room, it’ll just look like a cozy little bedroom.

        • GhostCat says:

          My house is basically a multi-room nest covered in cat hair.

  12. BatJamags says:

    …why would burning coals be kept in a sealed can? Wouldn’t that cause them to burn out faster?

    I choose to believe that the’re actually spicy nacho-flavored coals in a Pringles can.

  13. GhostCat says:

    She then grabbed a hammer and took careful aim.

    She’s holding the nail using tongs in her mouth; what is she holding the hammer with? How is she even able to aim properly?

  14. GhostCat says:

    Dash convulsed uncontrollably, and her bladder emptied once more.

    When did her bladder have time to refill itself? I got the impression that Pinky revived her immediately. Also, she’s not going to be convulsing or peeing if all her muscles are locked; I doubt she’d even be able to release her bladder if there was anything in it until after the current was cut.

  15. BatJamags says:

    Pinkie rolled her eyes. Putting down the hammer and tongs, she walked back in front of her friend and stared pensively at the broken pegasus. Gilda didn’t even cry this much when she had a live parasprite stuffed down her throat.

    Oh, for fuck’s sake, WHY CAN’T ANYONE WRITE THIRD-PERSON LIMITED PROPERLY?! Choose a point of view and goddamn stick to it. I mean, I switch in my 3PL writing, but only after transitioning to a new scene and only because there’s no one character who’s in every scene in most of what I’ve written.

  16. GhostCat says:

    Squeezing out the excess excrement, Pinkie filed the slimy organ through her teeth and dragged it back and forth. “Dentists say you gotta floss every day, Dash.”

    That is just so excessively unsanitary. I know she’s got piles of rotting corpse-bits all over the room and is literally walking through a soup of fresh urine, feces and blood, but … ewwwww.

  17. BatJamags says:

    I am fairly certain hooves, like fingernails, are made of dense, multilayered keratin.

    Unlike this fic, which is made of dense, unilayered shit.

  18. GhostCat says:

    Dash woke up for the last time, her heart pounding. Warm blood flowed out from the wound in her chest in great spurts. It wouldn’t be long now.

    :headdesk:

    RD is just a pony-shaped juice box full of blood, isn’t she?

  19. GhostCat says:

    Ya know, Rainbow Dash, I’m disappointed. I thought you would have lasted longer.

    Well, you should have thought of that before you started pulling organs out like you were looking for your lost keys under the couch cushions.

  20. BatJamags says:

    I suppose my biggest personal issue with this thing, boredom notwithstanding, is that there’s no plot. I have no reason to care how the torture proceeds. Not having seen the original show, I can’t even piggyback off of any investment in that, not that doing so would be all that helpful. This is a story with only one plot point, and thus not (or barely) a story at all because it has nowhere to go. And even if there were a plot constructed which could contain this sequence, I can’t imagine why showing the torture in such an in-depth manner would be remotely important.

    • AdmiralSakai says:

      I’ve seen the original show, and you saw how much it helped.

      • GhostCat says:

        I have a feeling my Slender/MLP:FiM crossover this Friday is going to be a big step down from this. No one gets disemboweled and there’s barely any inappropriate touching.

        • AdmiralSakai says:

          Yes, but what about the characters’ urine?

        • GhostCat says:

          It stays inside the characters, so far as I can tell. The fic skips over about ninety-nine percent of the tedious page-gathering bits, though, so it is possible there was some leakage somewhere in the Void.

          I’m actually branching out a bit; there’s two fics by the same author with one being a Slender/MLP crossover and the other being an Amnesia/MLP crossover.

      • SC says:

        I did the exact opposite: I knew of this fic via my sister when she got heavily into MLP, but have otherwise placed no time or effort into learning much about the canon other than that Applejack is my favorite pony of the group because cowboy hat.

        And that didn’t help either, probably on account of already-present apathy lumping in with newly-arrived apathy and becoming a massive ball of meh.

  21. Elysium16 says:

    Aaaaaaand the gore’s still as boring as I remember!

    You could almost say this fic is…

    Gore-ing.

    (loud booing)

  22. SC says:

    but there was that one long section where I had literally nothing to say.

    See also: The latter half of A Branch of Burden that I summarized because I couldn’t think of anything to joke about, several very large chunks of Foreigners and Templars that got cut out to save time, and a significant deal of Legendary Adventurers, Futuristic Saviors (where, had I not been frothing-at-the-mouth pissed off at it at all times, I probably wouldn’t have even spoken on several of the minor bits of that fic).

    I dunno, I guess I just have this weird penchant for finding authors who go on long-winded tangents that are the exact opposite of interesting.

    • AdmiralSakai says:

      That was also what convinced me to abandon Love of a Spartan– the entire chapters where nothing wrong was happening but nothing remotely entertaining was happening either.

      • SC says:

        Oh, plenty of things were going wrong with LAFS, and I certainly said as much back then. It’s just that, in the scheme of things, they were incredibly small nitpicks compared to the more major issues, and I blew them wildly out of proportion because I was so angry at the fic and the hack who wrote it.

    • GhostCat says:

      I’m the queen of nothing-narratives and even I’ve had to skip over chunks of fic because they just kept going. The bulk of KDVS, for example.

      • SC says:

        It’s what’s going on right now with Athame’s Light: Because the author is focusing on the pre-Eden Prime ship banter, which I’ve explained to be a whole lot of nothing interesting, getting through the second half of the chapter is a terrible slog because I’m spending more time thinking up witty banter between my character and Myrai in order to shore up the weak parts of the riff.

  23. AdmiralSakai says:

    I don’t know… this was truly one of the first shitfics to break through into brony culture, and I feel like now’s a good time, as My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is lowered into the ground, to take Cupcakes out behind the woodshed and put two in its skull.

    And, now that we’ve done so, everyone else took it upon themselves to come and hold a bitchin’ dance party on its corpse.

    I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  24. TacoMagic says:

    Pinkie placed the tool over the mangled flesh of the last attempt. Standing on her hind legs, she worked the saw back and forth with her front hooves. It sliced effortlessly through the bone and skin.

    Riiiight. I know an author who’s never used a hacksaw before. Even top-end hacksaws that can cut through almost anything don’t do it anywhere near “effortlessly.”

    Now a reciprocating saw with a multi-material blade, that’s a different story.

  25. AdmiralSakai says:

    Mufufufu… Bats thinks he can destroy the fact that Part 1 and Part 2 of this riff have exactly the same number of comments…. the fool!


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