"Get out of here!" You hear a voice call, from one of the shops, "And don't come back!"
Three young ponies are thrown out of a pizza parlor, covered in sauce. They look at each other, then their own flanks, and give a dejected sigh.
"I guess pizza making wasn't our special talent girls." One of them says.
"Oh Applebloom, we'll never get our Cutie Marks!" Another relents.
You grin, the perfect set-up is already in your mind. You trot over to them, faking a sweet disposition.
"Oh girls, are you looking for your special talent?" You ask.
"Yeah lady," One of them says, "How did you know?"
"Well I overheard you talking and thought to myself 'I have the perfect thing to give these girls to help them find their Cutie Marks!'"
"Really? Can we have it?" One says. They're bouncing up and down with joy now, each asking the same question.
"Oh of course," You say, and they start to jump up and down.
"Cutie Mark Crusader Gift-Getters!" They chant.
You raise one hoof and they go silent, "But I need you to do something for me. Close your eyes, open your mouths and stick out your tongues."
They look at each other, confused, but they silently agree with each other to listen to you and do as you say. They clench their eyes shut and open their mouths.
"Okay, wider now, really stick out your tongues!" You say, and they obey "Good, good! No peeking. Are you ready?"
They all nod their heads, their tongues lolling as they do. You turn around, and squat down, simultaneously getting your butt on level with their faces, and spreading your cheeks a little. You had been holding this one in a while, and have no doubts it would be foul.
"Ready girls, here it comes!" There's an ominous gurgling in your bowels, "Bombs away!"
With that, you let a wet, thick and utterly raunchy fart fly right into their faces. The gas was thick, and almost like a fog in how heavy and wet it was. It soaked into their fur and nostrils, and most of all poured down their throats. The one in the middle, wearing a bright red bow, got the worst of it. Your acrid stench must have completely coated the inside of her mouth, tastebuds and all. Worst of all, the awful act was so unexpected that the fillies had no idea what to do, and stood there with their mouths agape and eyes still closed(The awful gas burned their eyes if they tried to open them). You hold them spellbound in your gassy emission for a good minute and a half before you sputter to a halt, letting them fall down and gasp for air.
You watch them, desperately trying to spit out the flavor of your intestinal stench, and laugh.
"Hah! Cutie Mark Crusader Fart-Munchers more like!"
It was then that..
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