No comments currently available as the mod is having a fit over the extreme adorableness of this image.
Butters though you two had something special…
And Mod just thinks you are all a bunch of cutie-patooties and everyone should follow those blogs!
After a nutritious lunch of soup, with lots of grunting, rolling around and some rather disturbing pelvic thrusting on the floor the Prince is ready to deal with some of his more important duties. There is the checking of the guard, which involves him running around the palace barking at nothing. Then there is the review of the castle work staff, which involves more running around and barking. Uh oh, somepony used too much floor wax! The Prince is now bouncing around a pin ball! After a little magical intervention followed by a thorough barking out Butters is off to deal with the most important part of his duties! Dealing with the many questions for his Tumblr.
Of course he gets a little help, there are so many questions to deal with. As well as the many packages that get sent to him, there is a strict screening process of course. There is no need for a repeat of the infamous veggie bomb platter incident, some health nut thought that Palace wasn’t eating enough veggies so they sent in fresh vegetables and fruits. There were mixed reactions, some enjoying others not. This did not go over well with the group of healthy eating fanatics. So they started sending veggie platter bombs. Fruit salad combustibles, it was a real mess. Someday’s one might find guards wandering about dazed and confused covered in fruit salad. Or some poor maid or butler writhing on the floor drenched in three bean salad. Dark days those were.
But each question gets a thorough going over by the Prince, those that are deemed worthy of being answered get the butt press of approval, questions to be answered later get the lick of procrastination, and finally there are the rejects. The less said about what he does to those the better, needless to say Atjour is never happy about those ones. Once that is all taken care of it is time for dinner, followed by the Royal Bath.
This takes a team of no less than four unicorns to wrangle the Prince into the royal bath tub. After his bath it is time to put the Prince to bed, if he is grumpy this requires precision team work. Less accidents happen, like a guard being bucked out a window into an inflatable cactus patch. Or falling from high places and landing on their horn. Or cemented to the walls via the glue like saliva of the Prince. But a blanket over his head puts the energenic Prince right to sleep. After being tucked in the staff takes a breather, and prepares for the next day. Wills are written, resignations are rejected, family members kidnapped so the workers will show up. For tomorrow is Prince Butter’s annual physical check up.
The accuracy of these observations of Butters’ daily life is almost disturbing.
Gosh I love it.
((Fanart for best Princess and best pony))
Just look at the elegance and grace that is Sir Reginald Butterscop Pendragon Jr. IV shown through this wonderful art piece!
Then Twilight Sparkle locked herself in her own little castle, only replying to requests of unlocking her door with a lot of “Nope.”
Potato Acorn Alihorse by the BestWorst pone artist me.
Just LOOK at this master piece! Sir Reginald Butterscop Pendragon IV is very pleased. You shall receive an honourable medium sized acorn for your attribution.
This would be going up on the fridge if Butters were allowed anywhere near the kitchen.
We had Pet shaming….and Pokemon shaming….
Now I bring you PONY shaming!
Starting off with a Snow Shame post!!
*jumps on the bandwagon of horse shaming*
everyone hop the ponyshaming bandwagon woo
Grace: They don’t like it, then they should pay more attention to me
**yes I’m going to reblog EVERY ADDITION!!**
Gosh there’s a bunch of them~
*casually throws in canon pony*
**this one made me snort giggle*
Mod: Because he can be a bad Pen sometimes…
Art by Snow
They usually prefer he just scoots his butt across the floor during diplomatic meetings, but he likes to mix it up now and then.
I think at least some of you ponies understand where I am coming from, when speaking words about retribution and vengeance. While some others act like I am some jealous coltfriend. This is not the case, I have been humiliated and impeded upon. I am at my patience’s end with the last incident, it hurt me enough to tell you all the details. I consider you guys the only real therapists I have, in a way. For you to see myself in such spots of weakness is a blow to my esteem and surely to my own treatment. I have been playing loose, breaking some rules but now I am the one they tried to break…
For her to get banned or even disciplined, the guards and orderlies would have to know. Which they won’t, they would never believe the loyal maid would ever touch or sway a hoof in my direction. I am the antithesis to everything they stand for. You have that part right. But am I so willing to give up my own pride and reveal who has been tormenting me? Seducing and essentially raping me? This is my battle, the hospital has no place in my business, no matter how much authority they try to instill regardless. I am my own stallion, I am Nikolai - Metal Fang, not a prisoner, not a patient, not a slave. It is the fact I am so able to resist their treatments and set up pre-cautions that disturbs them greatly.
And you have all seen how they try to discipline. The hospital rather put you in a straight jacket and leave you be, claiming it to be easier to “re-educate” and apply the base rules for a troublesome patient instead of actually doing any sort of resemblance of their job. Ponies in these facilities do not mend illnesses or disorder, they advocate them. They do not want to cure ponies, otherwise - they would be out of a job. They would love to keep me here for the rest of my life, unlike the asylums back home who were almost eager to throw me back into the civilian world again.
I have never met or seen them personally, no - but I am indeed away of that incestuous love child. A spawn of disgrace worthy of a mercy killing, instead of a peaceful co-existence with the god-like entity it rules alongside. Thank you for bringing this back to my attention, you have only reminded me that the Solar Empire is just no different than the Tsarist regime that once held the center of the Central Equestasia and the great North. The Tsars were fond of attempting to keep their blood lines pure, so they practiced closely related marriages and other decadent breeding techniques. They ended up birthing a son who could not even get splinter without nearly bleeding to death.
The Tsarista hired the work of a unicorn healing priest, more like a monk of sorts - the infamous Rasputin. A changeling disguised as a well endowed unicorn, feeding on lust and admiration. But also hoping to bathe their aspirations of becoming the most powerful pony in the kingdom with the closeness to the Royal family. It just so happened, he would die before the Tsars - conspirators who correctly assumed his true species, had enough of his debauchery. He was a hard stallion to kill, if I remember reading correctly. Killed a day before Hearth’s Warming Eve - they poisoned him, shot him several times and rolled him up in a carpet before casting his body into the nearest body of water. An autopsy showed that he had only then died of hypothermia. During his cremation, he sat up and starred down his murderers - surely a Changeling of the dark arts, which his image is now so greatly associated.
Rasputin wanted to become an Alicorn - not just a mirage or image of one. He studied the darkest parts of Starswirl’s life and nearly took the throne of the Tsar for himself, he so easily could. The Tsarista was reportedly fond of him, perhaps under his illusion and manipulation. No matter what they were, they were twice the alicorn Butters ever will be. I say that proudly. If anything, I’d say I would like to see a pony in charge, Changeling or otherwise - like Rasputin. Yes, somepony I can relate to - somepony with a vulgar misuse of power and one with their own lust.
Maybe I am a reincarnation of Rasputin, if I was born with a horn - surely I would be a great warlock of some sort… Then no one would think twice about the big-dick Mystic and his affair with a Royal Maid…
Well, yeah, but I bet Rasputin wasn’t HALF as adorable as Butters!