A lone unicorn roamed the Unicorn Range, walking the roads, going from place to place, never staying in any one place very long. He was rather dull looking, his coat a cinnamon brownish red, and his mane a completely unremarkable shade of iron grey. He walked with purpose, seemingly without fear, his head high and his hoofbeats clattering as he cantered down the cobblestones.
Upon closer inspection, somepony might notice that this pony looked a bit lonesome.
His saddlebags bounced slightly as he walked, everything he owned carried therein. He was rather wild and disheveled looking, his mane long and uncut, as was his tail, as though he had not been in civilisation for quite some time.
Suddenly, as he walked down the road, a manticore leapt out onto the road in front of him, claws flexing, mouth open, roaring loudly, making a frightful commotion.
The unicorn yawned, seemingly uninterested. He stood looking at the manticore, waiting patiently, looking a little sad, and more than a bit lonesome, even though the manticore was terrible company. A fearsome gurgle-burble came from the manticore’s stomach.
The manticore paused, frozen in place, a strange look of discomfort upon its face.
“Grrrrwwwrr?” It implied, ceasing all violent action.
The unicorn’s name was Brown Note. He was unique among unicorns. His talent was relaxing sphincters, and causing upset bowels.
“Urgleglurgleglug!” The manticore’s stomach uttered, upset that the narrator had made such a sudden and previously unannounced plot point clear, after the manticore had selected its prey.
“Too bad.” Said the narrator, thoroughly amused at his own story.
The backside of the manticore suddenly exploded, causing a geyser of brown sludge to spray forth. The manticore bellowed, not liking his bottom suddenly exploding into a geyser, and dearly wanted a private word with the narrator after this whole business was finally finished.
Brown Note stood silent, having seen this a hundred times. He appeared to be almost ready to expire from ennui, exhaling exorbitantly.
The manticore ran away, painting the landscape a fetid shade of brown, fertilising the flowers, his roars cursing the abysmal narrator telling this story for his own enjoyment.
Brown Note was completely unaware of the narrator, or the narrator’s plans.
Brown Note continued onward, bravely facing expiration from ennui, feeling alone and unloved.
He continued until he reached a town, seeing ponies, wanting so badly to see them. He stood at a far distance, knowing that he would not be welcome. He sighed, sadly, seeking shelter and solace from his solitude.
There was none to be had.
Perhaps, perhaps this day he could control his talent. Brown Note strode forward into the town, smiling, looking hopeful.
Today was not the day to be hopeful.
“Glarglesnarg?” Over a hundred bellies said in unison, all of them suddenly very cranky with the narrator.
“Flubbleslubub!” The bellies cried, Brown Note’s magic taking hold.
Tails lifted. Torrents of runny brown goo spurted forth. The town became awash in the feculent funk of felicitous feces.
Felicitous? The narrator paused. Feces? Why yes, it was a most magical plot device. I used their plots as a device! For mayhem, the narrator inserted with a maniacal giggle. How fortunate I have been thus far.
The ponies ran amok, knee deep in muck.
Foals cried, some only known by the bubbles rising through the brown sludge, mares fainted, a fate worse than death, and brave stallions began to compete who could squirt the farthest distance.
The cacophony of crepitation creaking from cavernous cracks continued.
“What a silly story.” A voice interrupted, breaking the narrator’s train of thought.
Brown Note fled the town, using the sudden pause in the story.
Brown Note traveled, always moving, each day in a new place. Until finally, one day, upon the road, he met a dark blue alicorn.
“Flee from me Princess!” Brown Note pleaded, “Before I harm you and bring shame upon my self.”
“Fear not humble Brown Note.” Luna cried, turning around and lifting her tail, revealing a cork lodged in a precarious place. She turned back around to face her saddened subject.
“Fear not humble subject, for I bring tidings of great joy. Huzzah!” Luna cried, a broad grin splitting her forever cheerful face.
“Brown Note the unicorn, your troubles are over. I have come to take you away, to a place where you will be happy, to meet the love of your life.” Luna said, very nearly breaking her character.
Brown Note sighed, not believing.
Luna took wing and flew away, carrying Brown Note with her magic.
“Erglagglaphlug!” Luna’s belly rumbled.
“Huzzah!” Luna cried. “Foul narrator, I have foiled thee with a cork!”
She flew onward, over Canterlot, Brown Note in tow.
As she flew over Canterlot, the cork flew out with a POP!
“A pox upon you, foul narrator from the depths of Tartarus, for besmirching my princessly plot!” Luna cried.
The alicorn caused a fine brown mist to fall upon Canterlot, Brown Note still in tow.
Many of the residents, hopeful that it was raining chocolate milk, turned their heads upward, seeking a pleasant bounty from the sky.
Many, many ponies cursed the narrator that day, many plotting to find some way to give him a taste of his own medicine, many hoping that the medicine tasted like what wasn’t chocolate milk raining from the sky.
Too late, the townsponies fell under Brown Note’s spell, forever ruining the carpets of Canterlot.
Finally, Luna flew to a distant land, spreading a riotous rectal rainbow the remainder of her journey, cursing and hating the narrator the whole time, promising to bring him horrible nightmares.
And when she landed, there was unicorn mare, also rather dull and unremarkable, who stood waiting, almost expired from ennui.
Brown Note took one look at her and fell madly in love, not knowing why.
“This is Hiatus.” Luna announced. “Her magic is interruption. She causes irregularity of the bowels.” Luna took a deep sigh of relief as the never ending flow of feculent fudge finally slowed. She raised an eyebrow at the narrator, a promise of pain.
Brown Note ran forward and kissed Hiatus, and they lived happily ever after.
The end.
**Sound of a book closing.**
Discord closed the book and looked at his precious Ivy. “Did you like the story Sprout?” He asked, looking at his beloved mismatched foal. Ivy squealed with delight and clapped her talons together, her tail whipping around. She sat on the bed, looking most adorable.
“Discord, that story was horrible, I don’t know why I let you keep reading it to our baby.” Fluttershy said, a faint hint of a scold in her voice.
“What is ennui? Ivy asked innocently.
“What you feel when Celestia is lecturing you.” Discord answered, raising an eyebrow.
“Ivy it is time for bed. I hope you don’t have nightmares.” Fluttershy said, looking at her foal.
“Did you learn anything Ivy?” Discord asked, looking at her seriously.
Ivy paused for a few moments, taking in what her father had said.
“Yes daddy.” She said at last.
“Well,” said Discord, “out with it.”
“No matter how awful somepony might appear to be, somepony will love them?” Ivy said hopefully.
“Very good Ivy.” Fluttershy said, planting a kiss on Discord. “Now go to bed.”
“But I’m not sleepy.” Ivy said, falling over and her eyes closing. “Not sleepy.” She protested, falling into slumber.
“Discord, we need to talk about your stories. That was really awful. You’ve been staring at a cookbook this whole time!” Luna said in mild annoyance. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“Ask the narrator.” Discord said with a cackle.
“Discord, really, you should cease this foolishness.” Luna said, a faint smile upon her lips. “I don’t know how you made that story up as you went, but next story night, you should have a sequel with Celestia.”
Discord chuckled, nodding his head in agreement.
Laugh riot!
What the hell did I just read?
Huzzah! I don't understand.
If you call this a parody of bad writing, then it's really funny!
An obvious troll fic... that turns out to be a bedtime story told by Equestria's greatest troll. Hilarious. :-)
I wish I understood all the dislikes. I wish folk would leave a reason why when they do. Kinda frustrating.
Well this certainly made my monday a hell of a lot better. I haven't laughed so hard at potty humor in ages.
4127958
Thanks. That makes me feel better. Was a rough day in school.
I just wanted to make folk laugh.
wut.
4127705 Some people can't understand what a troll fic is.
4129124
This isn't a troll fic. **Looks innocent**
It is a bedtime story. For Ivy. Cute sweet little Ivy.
oh my
4129358
I have a horrible image of Sweetie Belle drowning in the mess that Brown Note left behind. Looking just like she does in the picture as she sinks into the brown sea.
What the ffffffu-?!
4129138
Told by her dad. Who is a troll. :-) (OK, technically he is a draconequus, but then most internet trolls are technically human... :-))
You can thus see the confusion. :-)
Can't help but think that even without his powers, Discord = Best Troll Dad ever.
4130701 0.0 Good God...
4127705
I can't really speak for other people but if I had to guess then I'd say that the dislikes probably come from two sources: potty humor and meta jokes. An important thing to keep in mind when writing comedy is that not everyone is going to find your jokes funny.
Potty humor is, of course, the main point of this story, but if people aren't laughing at it then they're probably going to grossed out instead. As much as people claim to enjoy 'feels,' if you manage to disgust your audience then they're not going to like it.
Meta humor is also a fairly touchy subject. When people read stories, they like to get immersed in the scenes you're painting. Whenever you mention a meta element you're pulling the reader out of that. That's fine if it's funny. Humor is also entertainment. But if they don't find it funny, then all you've accomplished is to remind the reader that they're reading a story which they're not particularly enjoying at the moment.
There are some ways around that. In this story, specifically, if you'd mentioned that Discord was dictating the story at the start then every mention of the word 'narrator' in the narration would bring to mind Discord and whatever nursery scene you described and not hurt the immersion at all. As it stands now, though, 'narrator' comes across as more of an 'author-playing-god' scenario which isn't nearly as interesting.
One last thing I should mention is that you shouldn't feel like you've made a bad story just because it got downvotes. If fact, having a lot of upvotes and downvotes is more of a sign of extreme content than anything wrong with the story itself. For people who like potty humor and such, seeing a lot of downvotes on the stories they like can be just as annoying for them as it is for the people who wrote them.
4134932
If I had mentioned that discord was narrating, it would have spoiled the surprise.
Sigh. It probably was a bad idea to release this. I wanted a delightful but somewhat horrible surprise that ended as a sweet story.
What I got was a visit by Brown Note himself.
Okay I know it is about poo... So it is not funny..... Oh I give up BWAHAHAHAHAHA This is awsome!
He has such a terrible power. He needs to learn control.
Another gut busting story, this time about bursting guts.
Your writing continues to have me crack up. Have a cookie.
I realised I should read this as soon as I saw the unicorn's name.
I don't even like shit jokes!
This was great...
Okay. This was hilarious.
I have a terrible, wonderful feeling that Bucky should very much like to meet Brown Note.
The world would never be the same.