A Staggering Tide
Have you ever sat and stared as the world literally changes in front of you? When I was a kid, I’d watch the tide go up and down when I was with my Uncle on his fishing boat. On moment the beach is pristine and peaceful, then the water ebbs down and you can see all the filth it was hiding. I think about those days more often now.
Last month Doug and I were tasked at creating the official forums specifically for “Bronies” and so far it’s exactly what we expected, it had become the internet equivalent to Mogadishu. A No-Man’s land (in a very literal sense) where one awful man fights another for dominance of a shithole no sane person would want anything to do with. Both created by Western society’s fecal Midas Touch. We made it to keep them separated from the poor kids they were trying to mingle with. Doug forced the brass’ hand to do it by getting a few of his friends in Child Protective Services, so they did the bare minimum to let us combat the pedophiles in Hot Topic T-shirts.
They’ve offically created a name for their terrible perversion, they call it “Clopping”. These fucks won’t stop drawing children’s cartoon characters in sex acts, I have seen more awful shit in the days I’ve been monitoring these assholes than I did on any deployment to the South Pacific, but from people whom I’m pretty sure have never had sex. I’ve started having dreams where I’m back in Iraq calling artillery one enemy positions, but this time the people shooting at me are 20 somethings with a sheen of grease on their foreheads and zit covered beards. This time though, I feel good when the rounds fall on target.
I get why they call it ‘Deviant Art’.
A few weeks ago Doug and I slipped in a small filter to the boards. It won’t let anything from the website deviantart.com show up when posted We did this because we got tired of seeing softcore pony porn. Apparently we were the only ones (I mean aside from the one’s who would rather see hardcore pony porn, which is an easily assumable 98% of the Brony population) our boss Jerry told us we’re to keep our moderation to a minimum now when dealing with these fat sack’s of Little Caesar’s grease. I asked Jerry why we’d allow the kids to be subjected to seeing a poorly illustrated picture of a walking Crisco can with a neckbeard fucking a pink horse with stars and shit all over it.
His response was that we’re now being funded mostly by these Bronies and we shouldn’t “take a dump in the well”, so to speak. I told him this is serious bullshit, it’d be the same as telling me in Iraq that we’d switched sides because Saddam was paying better now so we had to start shooting up St. Louis instead. I don’t have a problem with capitalism, it’s not like I’m some kind of commie or anything, I just don’t like the idea of any entity that caters to anyone that photoshops their penis into a cartoon horse.
My daughter told me today that she doesn’t like the show. I cried a few tears of joy. Took her to the store to buy her a toy, it was a good bonding experience. My wife thought it was odd that I rewarded her for not liking the product that paid me, but I just pulled up deviant art on her phone and showed her the first few things that popped up with the term “MLP fanart” and said “This is the new target demographic.”. I think I either just fixed my marriage or shot it between the eyes. Hell of a society we built here, huh?
My partner’s money for the aforementioned orgy smell is week old corn chips and the farts you get from eating boiled eggs.
About the Brony Orgy
I would bet my entire retirement that it smelled like off-brand pizza rolls that had thawed, then spoiled in the back seat of a Geo Metro with an exhaust leak.
Did you ever hear of something called “Whiny White Kid Rights”?
I think the one thing that’s the most common across the board for we poor bastard who are entrusted to protect America’s children from it’s man-children is a constant battle with a psychological dysfunction known as a persecution complex. These pasty kids have it in their heads that they’re some kind of underground resistance group fighting some imaginary totalitarian group that consists of every adult who doesn’t want to place their genitals in or around a talking technicolor pony.
We had these two Bronies whose names escape start posting pictures of their own ‘custom ponies’ with vulvas and buttholes molded onto them with what I can only assume was painted silly putty. They were trying to shill the wretched things to these other grease spattered parental disappointments. So I just decided the best way to stop this horrible shit from happening on the same forum that 8 year old little girls were using to talk about how icky homework is was to just ban the filthy creatures trying to hock these things.
This was our first (fake) legal letter. These kids got their hands on some official looking letterhead to threaten us with unlawful discrimination. Our legal team grabbed it up fast and discredited the whole thing in under an hour. They called the phone number listed and found out it belonged to a Domino’s in Battle Creek, Michigan. This was a pretty obvious sign that one of two things had happened, either these idiots were trying to commit small scale fraud or the Noid had taken the fuckin’ Bar Exam.
After replying to the letter with the knowledge we had, the jackwagon tried to double down on us saying it was a misprint and cited a state law that we had broken by trying to call him. Legal said they were comparing themselves to the Jews during the Holocaust because of the way we had removed them from our forums, which I found ironic considering how much fan art was being posted featured ponies dressed as SS officers. The vast majority of complaining Bronies were in fact white adult males with a good degree of wealth behind them who just could not wait to scream about how they were being discriminated against despite the truth being the world was pretty much being handed to them but they chose to jerk off to cartoon horses instead. I never read the part in Anne Frank’s Diary where the Nazi’s gathered up the pony fuckers, must have got the abridged version when I was in school.
Hell is Other-kins
A few weeks after our first ‘catch’ we started noticing more and more traffic on the forum. More people talking about marrying the characters from the show, turns out this “Brony” thing was pretty real. Grown ass men wearing T-Shirts with cartoon horses and catch phrases. Ask me and I’d say the boys in marketing could have stopped this by just not making the shirts in sizes Adult XXL and the ilk. But that ain’t good for business, and it was business that kept the family under a roof, so I didn’t complain to anyone other than Doug.
That’s the beauty of a good partner. They share your wins and your losses, they have a good bead on how you feel about something but know how to keep you on task without putting the squeeze on you. Doug was a lot more knowledgeable about the different subcultures floating around online, what groups were more likely to take a shot at you and the ones would just slink away. He was a good cop, a great partner and a hell of a guy.
Doug taught me about these people funning around on the internet who were like furries, but way more spiritually connected to it. They called themselves Other-kins. They have some psychological disconnect from humans like you and me, that shit makes them connect more with animals and dragons and shit than people. I can understand a little. I like my dog more than these people posting on my forums anyhow.
Someone in marketing came to us one day and told us to stop banning adults on the forums, said these Bronies were the more profitable demographic, they even started letting them name characters off the show after their dumb website jokes. The Bronies were pretty much signing over their bank accounts to us and the corporate types felt that the cash from a 25 year old man-child’s parents was better than the cash from a little girl’s lemonade stand. Better for the ol’ bottom line. Just means Doug and me better be doing a better job to make sure those two groups don’t have any major intermingling. Don’t want that kinda shit on my headstone when they drop my sorry husk in the dirt from whence it came.
The Noid Strikes Back
After the incident with Trayson things were quiet for a few days, the kid sent us a few huffy emails saying we were violating his 1st Amendment Rights, but when we told him those don’t matter on a private company’s website he just said he’d get a lawyer and sue us. We forwarded the message to legal, they just laughed with us. Doug and I felt good about it, we had just removed a mentally unhinged and sexually confused adult from the presence of children, that’s something you’re supposed to be able to do and say to yourself “Good. Job well done.”
Doug told me about these people called “Furries” on the internet. Said he had to arrest a few once at a hotel in his normal beat. They’re these people who dress up like high school football mascots and have sex with each other. Which is really doesn’t matter to me, consenting adults and all, I’m not a prejudiced man. But apparently they have a certain penchant for doing this in public places which makes them at odds with the law.
Doug’s theory was that Trayson was just a furry that really latched on to the show, which makes sense in a weird fucked up way. He’s just a guy who wanted to plow another person wearing a pony suit. Not my cup of coffee but I’m not going to tell another man how he needs to start his morning. My only problem with Trayson is that he was doing this repugnant shit in the presence of 2nd graders, something common decency would kind of dictate as being “mighty fucked up”.
I think that’s part of my problem, to think decency is common. I’m not a bible thumping man, I’ve seen shit that’s made me come to the conclusion that there cannot be a just and caring God for this world. Dead soldiers with faces made to look like the contents of a can of Chef Boyardee, Iraqi kids who were hiding in the same building an air strike had hit to kill the sonofabitch shooting my boys on top of it. These images will always been something I carry with me, I’ve been to hell, but I keep my hell my own problem, I don’t talk about it with anyone but my therapist and my wife when she forces me to. But the shit I’ve seen siting in a leather chair looking at a monitor had made me realize hell is not restricted to war zones.
Jerry, my boss, had bought us a bottle of Jack Daniels after we were able to get Trayson banned, said it was for a job well done. That particular bottle has been empty for a long while now, but it’s brothers have long since marched into my desk drawer single file. Every time one clings as I pour myself a stiff drink to cope with the horrors I’ve just seen created by those pukes is just another note in the hymn for what had once been my sense of hope and humanity. The cough I make after killing the drink my own personal “Amen”.
My Therapist Said I Needed to Reach Out More
My name is Raymond Heller, I’m a network TV official forums administrator working on the popular children’s show “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic”. I know that sounds like an easy job at first, but I promise you my 9 to 5 is an existence of sheer hell. My marriage has suffered from it, my relationship with my children has become strained and my entire outlook on the world around me is something usually reserved for the members of Doomsday Cults.
My boss, Jerry, he knows what I my partner Doug and I are subjected to. We have to keep the official forums free from miscreants and pedophiles, the things we end up investigating, the things we’ve seen, nothing could prepare us for that. I did two tours in Iraq with the 1st Infantry Division, Doug was a beat cop in Queens for 7 years, we’re still appalled by the objectively awful shit we see coming from these sick fucks who parade around in Hot Topic T-Shirts and draw graphic sexual images of a kid’s show.
My first day on the job seemed like I had landed a cushy gig. After 4 months looking for work after I had discharged from the Army I finally got work, nice air conditioned office, partner who wasn’t too touchy feely, a boss who didn’t give a shit that I smoked half a pack a day. In those first few months we were different men. We’d go to work, make sure a bunch of 7 year old girls weren’t calling each other names on the internet and go home to our families. My wife was so happy for me back then, I came home cheerful, ready to play with my kids and tell my wife how she hadn’t aged a day in the 8 years we had been together. It seems like a lifetime ago.
My first encounter with a “Brony”, what the pedophiles and degenerates call themselves now, was a bit jarring. We had been monitoring a user on the forums who kept asking about the ponies’ parentage. Seemed pretty innocent at first, until we realized he wanted to know more details of the physical act needed to create a pony. This set off my partner Doug’s radar. He had dealt with a few pedophiles and perverts in his days working in Queens, he said this kid, screen name “xXFlutterHighXx” was using words a bit too advanced for the demographic. We ended up running an IP trace and sure enough we discovered this person parading around with 8 years old doing forum tea parties with them was a 24 year old college dropout named Trayson.
He had spent 3 years going to a community college in Pittsburgh getting himself a whopping 17 credits towards an arts degree. He lived in a hovel of an apartment in a nicer part of town than a kid like him should be able to afford. Turns out his father had died a few years ago so he used the insurance and inheritance money to rent the place and stuff it full of plastic pony’s. I’m sure that poor man looks down from the here-after wondering what the hell he did wrong. Because God knows I stay up at night wondering the same thing.
Well we ended up banning Trayson and sending him an email telling him we didn’t think his actions were appropriate for the rest of the people on the boards. Figured we had done a good deed and made the world a bit safer for kids. Turns out we just shoo’d and ant away without knowing there was a whole goddamed colony of them under our very noses.