>Day 'Fuck it I don't even know' in Pony Prison
>It's been business as usual for almost a week now
>Extra pudding and cuddles makes for a complacent existence
>But you're feeling like something missing
>You have an itch that needs to be scratched
>Things haven't been nearly as fun as the first weeks
>Sure, having half the prison population under your thumb gives you a power trip
>But there's no dynamic, no give and take, nothing to make the days stand out

>It's at this point that you would usually start planting cherry bombs in toilets and setting trashcans on fire
>Or just start spreading rumors about people becuase, let's face it, you're a huge pussy who's never touched an explosive in your life
>So here you are, sitting in the yard, taking a breather from a particularly intense game of duck-duck-goose
>You overhear a nearby conversation between two of the guards
>"So, uh, how do you think this month's visit is going to go, Night Shift?"
>"What? Same as usual. She shows up, gives a speech and then leaves us for another month."
>"Even with monkey-boy over there?"
>The other guard gives his partner a look
>Labelling is greatly frowned upon here in Weenie Prison Jr.'s
>"He's been pretty docile for the last week or so. I think he'll be just fine."
>"Yeah, well we got two days to make sure this place is fit for the princess and I don't want any scum messing this up."
>Oh boy, this one's a hardass
>That other guard will probably be filing a report tonight
>Guards like that have no place in an institution dedicated to reforming Equestria's most dangerous criminals
>You resist the urge to kick your feet and laugh as the key to your sanity just presented itself

>You were able to learn the full details of the visit from an extremely flustered Sprout
>Turns out, all that really happens is that Princess Celestia shows up, gives a speech about the magic of faggotry and splits
>Attendence isn't even mandatory
>She would hate to take up anyone's important time, after all
>The more you think about it, the more Celestia seems like a huge, coniving bitch
>By the time you got back to your cell for your daily session with Cookie, a plan was forming in your head
>Two days wasn't much to work with, but you were determined to make that visit the highlight of the Princess' month

>The next day involved you cutting all of your activities with the excuse of a stomach ache
>Turns out, that still works here
>They didn't even send a guard with you, just made sure you got to the nurses office
>Candy was insisting on a full body checkup but you didn't have time for that shit
>She sent you back to your cell with what looked like a bottle of Pony Tums and happy thoughts
>The next few hours were a blur of antacid fuelled anarchy as you put your knowledge of circuits to use
>Really, you just snuck into the guard station and stole a microphone and a boombox that they had in confiscated items
>They even had some shitty mixtapes in there
>The man's gonna have to charge you with arson because you're gonna burn this prison down

>Day 'Fire it up' in Weenie Prison Jr.'s
>You snuck into the cafeteria during pre-snack recess and hooked up your sound system
>Turns out, they're gonna broadcast the Princess' speech throughout the entire prison
>Just so no one feels left out
>Who would want to miss Dear Leader's address to the nation of Equestrian Misfits?

>A sudden commotion in the yard grabs your attention
>Everyone is looking at the sky and pointing as if Superman was hovering naked above the prison
>You look up in time to see the golden chariot sail over your head and land in front of doors to the prison proper
>The ponies are now gushing as though Celestia had the star-power of every hair band from the 80's
>They ain't seen nothing yet

>It is time
>You stand in the back of the room, microphone in one hand and tofu-tendies in the other
>Motherfuckers ran out of chicken tendies even though you specifically stated they were a core staple of your diet
>You tuned Celestia out a long time ago
>Something, something, something; friendship
>Something, something, something; magic
>It's like the entirety of politics in Equestria can be summed up with "Shit's gay so be happy!"
>You make the executive decision to interrupt Celestia's circlejerk
>The squeal of feedback from your microphone makes every pony in the room cover their ears and cry out for Mother
>You hit play on the Boombox that you hid under the table and get ready to drop some bombs
>You climb onto one of the tables so you can pretend you're Jay-Z
>From your perch, it looks like all of the inmates are bowing to your presence
>They will be soon

"Yo, Celestia. This maybe one of the greatest speeches you've ever written and I'mma let you finish in a minute. But!"

Fuck it, c'est la vie
I know that we the new slaves
Y'all ponies can't fuck with me
Y'all ponies can't fuck with 'Ye
Y'all royals can't fuck with 'Ye
I'll haul my ass out the country
So you can't see where I stay
So go and grab the reporters
So I can smash their recorders
See they'll confuse me with some horseshit
Like the New World Order
Meanwhile the CEA
Teamed up with the PCA
They tryna lock niggas up
They tryna make new slaves
See that's that princess owned prison
Get your hug today
They prolly all in the Castles
Braggin' 'bout what they made
Fuck you and your Royal house
I'll fuck your Royal spouse
Came on her Royal blouse
And in her Royal mouth
Y'all 'bout to turn shit up
I'm 'bout to tear shit down
I'm 'bout to air shit out
Now what the fuck you gon' say now?

>The dull boom of your mic hitting the floor echoes across the cafeteria
>Almost every pony is staring at you with something akin to shock and/or terror
>At some point, you lost your shirt
>The Princess recovers and gives you a small smile
>Shit
>"Well then, Anonymous. That was certainly something. I'm so glad you've taken to expressing yourself in such a creative manner. Did you write that all yourself?"
>You can't believe it
>You haven't been tackled
>No pony has politely asked you to step down from the table
>YOu look down at the mic in your hand
>How did you fuck this up so bad?
>A light tapping sound draws your attention
>The Princess is clopping her hooves in what you have learned is the pony version of applause
>A few inmates join her and soon the entire cafeteria is filled with confused appreciation for your failure
>You look into the Princess' eyes and fight no malice, only delight
>You played right into her hooves
>Making a mental note to yourself, you take a quick bow and step off the table
>Next month, you're going to start a riot