Gucci's Day Out

Chapter 2: Chillin' with Pinkie Woods, Birdwoman, and Bubbles

By: Stillmatic


Standing tall, was Gucci Mane, arbiter of rap, defender of blunts, and maker of money. It have just hit morning and his job of cooking baked goods had already been accomplished with minimal casualties. He had a small pouch full of ducats (he preferred calling them "duckets"), a full belly, a scone in hand, and a nothing to lose. The weather was sunny and full of life, something he appreciated just a tad. But the best part? He made brownies. Today was going to be a good day.

"Chyeah it is. 'S like one of them 'Fridays,' an' shit."

A bushel of pink sprung out from behind his back, "Heya mister! Who ya' talking to?"

He rolled his eyes, "Whoever the fuck I want, you gotta problem with that shit?"

"Nope! But if I did, I'd might have ta pop a cap in your flank!"

"Yeah, ight…" Gucci murmured, "Ya ain't got that blat-blat shit up on ya."

She suddenly switched to his other shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Oh! That's what you think, but I know better!"

Gucci placed his palm firmly on her snout and shoved her off of him, "Mmmmhmmmm. If you knew better, ya'd do better, ya feel me?"

The pink pony landed on all fours, "Hmm, nope! But here," she pulled out a small, folded card out of seemingly nowhere, "That's for you! Because you helped Mr. and Mrs. Cake earlier this morning when I was all sleepy-weepy!"

The man flipped open the card and looked it over quickly. It was admittedly impressive in design, and even seemed to be catered to his individual tastes. Drawings of yellow diamonds met at each corner, with white and tan bricks creating a border around it. A significant amount of detail went into the center, which featured several ice-cubes with little stalactites of ice hanging down them. Over that it read, "You're invited! Come at 5:30 P.M. to the Sugarcube Corner for a super-duper 'Welcome to Ponyville' Party!"

Gucci nodded, "Ight."

She tilted her head to the side, "Say, what's your name?"

He pulled a mic from his pocket and held it to his mouth, "They call me Gucci Mane, but my name is Radric Davis an'-"

"Oooh! Ooh! Are we doing a song? Arewearewehuh?" The rapper nodded again, "Can I pick the song? Pleeeeeaaaase?"

Gucci grunted indifferently, "Whatever, nigga."

"Yes! By the way, I'm Pinkie Pie! Tell me if you know this one! Also! Do you like parties?"

"Fuck chyeah I do!"

"Then sing along!" The pony cleared her throat and pulled her own mic from somewhere, "ALL I WANNA DO IS PARTY-"

"AN' BULLSHIT!" He yelled.

"AND PARTY!"

"AN' BULLSHIT!"

"CAKES IN THE BACK LOOKIN' RIGHTEOUS!"

"TOP'S MESSED! THINK I MIGHT JUST!"

"HIT 'EM WITH A LITTLE PINKIE ONE-OH-ONE!"

"HOW TO PARTY LIKE WE NEVE' DONE!"

"AND HAVE FUN WITH EQUESTRIAN RUM!"

"WE CONVERSTATIN', GOT BLUNTS IN ROTATION!"

"MY COLT GUCC' GONNA CLOCK AND GOT TA WASTIN'!"

"WE'RE SMOKIN', DRINKIN', GOT THEM PONIES THINKIN'!" They both rapped simultaneously.

"IF SWEETS SMELL BAD, THEN THIS PONY PINKIE STINKIN'!" Gucci yelled.

"IS IT OUR CHARM? WE GOT THE PONIES AROUND OUR ARMS!"

"GRABBIN' ME, SAYIN' LET'S LEAVE CALM!"

"WE'RE BOPPIN' HOOVES AND BALLIN' AGAIN!"

"ROLLIN' BLUNTS, 'BOUT TO GET A SCONE AGAIN!"

"ZIGGAS START TO LOC OUT, SWEETS GOT 'EM CHOKIN' OUT!"

"CAKES WAS THROWN AND A FUCKIN' FIGHT BROKE OUT!"

And like that, a fight broke out. A hoof suddenly hit Gucci in the side of the face, staggering him slightly. Out of nowhere, a massive mob of angry ponies was fighting, with him and Pinkie at the center. It seemed as though their rapping attracted unsavory attention and something eventually set off all of the citizens against each other. Gucci slapped the stallion across the face and stole whatever bits he could find off his unconscious body. Then, both him and the pink pony casually walked from the scene and sat at a park bench while random ponies fought some sort of battle.

Pinkie hopped into the air, throwing her legs in random directions with a smile, "THAT! WAS! AWESOME! We really need to do that again sometime!"

Gucci chuckled, "Chyeah, mos' def'. I di'nt think ya'll knew how to rap an' shit like that. Shit was fierce!"

"Aww, come on! You were great too!"

"Nigga, I never said I wasn't."

She giggled, "You're funny!" With that, she jumped off the bench and began to hop away, "Remember!" Pinkie shouted, "Be at Sugarcube Corner at 5:30!"

Gucci smirked, "Ight."

And so, our hero began another epic journey through the world. That is, until the pink pony came back, bouncing happily without a care in the world. He put the mic back in his jacket and waited for a few moments, just enough time for Pinkie to reach him again.

"Hi!"

"'Ey."

"Wanna go prank some ponies?"

"Chyeah."

"Okie-Dokie-Lokie! Let's go!"

They were soon off, ready to cause disaster and chaos at every turn, much to the pleasure of a certain deity watching.


Gucci wore a fancy suit he stole from some business that he quickly tailored to fit him. His exceptional skill to do random shit wasn't very well known, but dangerously dapper in most cases. He had stolen the title of "Gucci" from the Shaolin Master of Fashion, Aldo Gucci, of the House of Gucci. It wasn't easy, but he defeated the Master, taking his powers of Fashion, Swag, Style, and Class. Of course, this made Gucci Mane the new Master, but his clandestine usurpation went, thankfully, unnoticed. That had been nearly fifteen years ago.

The rapper pulled a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses and placed them on his face. Another mic found itself within his hand as he adjusted his tie and pressed a finger to the single headphone in his right ear. Pinkie stood roughly a few feet away, holding a golf club and staring it down the shaft. She was dressed in some belted khaki pants, with a blue polo tucked in and a tan sweater vest on her chest. A green, Scottish golfing hat was on her head, with a little puffy ball of white on top. They were finally ready to begin.

Gucci cleared his throat and spoke through his mic, "Hello and welcome to the Bad Pony World Championship PGA Tour. I'm your host for today, Mase Gumbel. With this last birdie right here, Pinkie Woods winning the championship from the three-time champion, Fuzzy Bastard." He pointed to the puffy ball atop her hat, "Silence audience, I think-"

"Hey! Are we gonna start or not?"

"Damn't bitch! I'm bein' a newsman!" He grunted, "Chyeah, get this shit over with already."

"Alrighty!"

Pinkie Pie took the golf club with her mouth and aimed at the golf ball filled with sneezing power. The mare quickly swung, launching the object hundreds of feet away and straight at a carrot stand. Both of them watched as it exploded and launched sneezing powder all over the yellow mare attending the stand. Of course, she overreacted and began screaming about UFO's in between sneezes. Such was life in Ponyville.

Gucci snatched the golf club and smacked a ball himself, flinging it straight towards the horn of a purple mare. The ball was embedded and released the sneezing powder in a nearby radius that caught only her and a dragon on her back. Both the human and the pony laughed their asses off, finding hilarious pleasure in watching the duo across town sneeze uncontrollably. Pinkie attempted to give a thumb's up, but it failed miserably and was only able to provide a hoof's up.

"Oooh! Nice shot!"

The rapper watched proudly as his work still terrorized the innocent mare and dragon, "Oh damn, I'm nice as fuck wit' dat shit. Time for one more, chyeah!"

Gucci loaded another ball on his tee and took aim at another mare. Suddenly, some bird in the sky caught his keen eye. Being the benevolent and charitable person that he was, Gucci hit a ball right at it to share in the powder. The bird was knocked right out the sky and fell to the ground in a fit of sneezes and growls.

Pinkie's smile faded, "Uh-oh…"

"What?"

"That's Gilda…"

Gucci looked back at the bird to finally realize it had been a Griffon instead. He would be lying if he admitted he cared or if it even changed anything, however. The Griffon stood up and glared at the two, seething in anger.

"Hey! *sneeze* What's the *sneeze* big idea, you dweebs?"

Gucci pulled a pill out of his little glass bottle and popped it, "Nah, we get geeked up, none 'a that shit."

"*sneeze* What?"

Pinkie popped out from Gilda's left shoulder and leaned on her, "Girl, he's geeked up!"

"Bitch, I might be!" He replied back mirthfully.

Gilda, confused, tilted her head to the side as the powder wore off. She sniffled once and held out her claw to Gucci.

"Nice shot."

He shook it, "Burrr."

Gilda had to admit, most ponies would be running in terror right about now if they purposely hit a Griffon with a golf ball full of sneeze powder. But the human in front of her hadn't, and actually stood calmly, as if waiting for some event to start. She watched as he checked his watch and take a bite out of a scone he had within his jacket. For some reason, she felt the beginnings of respect for the bi-pedal in front of her, who showed no fear or anxiety. For her, the Griffon, it was a breath of fresh air.

Gilda gave a confident smirk, "Say, what're you guys doing? Pullin' pranks?"

Pinkie, eager to get on good terms with Gilda again, nodded rapidly, "Yup! We just got Carrot Top, Twilight, and Spike!"

She shrugged in response, "Don't even know who they are."

Gucci nodded, "Word, that nigga Carrot Top ain't even funny nomore. Nigga needs to get his shit together, ASAP."

"Say…" Pinkie started, thinking the same thing as Gilda, "What's that word you keep saying mean?"

"'Word'?"

"No, that other one. 'Nigga.'"

"Yeah," Gilda nodded, "What's that even mean?"

Gucci pulled out his monocle and placed it over his glasses, "My dear ladies, the term," he airquoted, "'Nigga' is one of the most versatile and multi-use word within the African-American English Vernacular Ebonics Language. One might use it address a friend or companion, or possibly even someone you don't know or hate. The uses for 'nigga' are endless, really. My use of it is to describe an acquaintance." He pulled away the monocle and put it back within his jacket.

"Huh," Gilda replied, "That actually seems pretty cool. Think I'll start using that now, 'nigga.'"

Pinkie hopped up and down, "Yeah! Nigga's the new super-duper fun word!"

The rapper simply shrugged, "Ight."

"So, niggas, what do you two wanna do for fun?" the pony asked.

Gilda considered leaving for a moment, feeling out of place. She then looked at Gucci and remembered he was some unknown creature who felt perfectly at ease with a bunch of ponies. No way she'd be called chicken for backing out when he was so easily keeping his cool.

The Griffon puffed her chest, "I think we oughta prank some more. Turn some heads and stuff."

"Gucci?"

"Ight."

"Let'sssss gooooo!" The pink pony yelled.

With that, the unholy trinity was off to commit more dastardly deeds and cause general chaos. The fun was liable to even possibly become doubled.


Pinkie swooned and fell to the floor with a hoof to her forehead, "Oh! Please! Somepony save me! I'm so defenseless and weak and this big bad Griffon is going to eat me!"

"Roar," Gilda shouted, smirking in the process.

A stallion by the name of Caramel shot his head upwards, his ears darting around like antennas. He turned his head to find an odd scene that seemed somewhat threatening. Before him was that mare Pinkie Pie lying beside a bush near the Sugarcube Corner. A villain-like Griffon (Gilda, he thought her name was) wearing a cape, monocle, top hat, and moustache (he found that part strangely arousing) looming over her slowly, as if she were going in for a kill with the already extended claws. While Caramel was usually a cowardly pony and not very bright, he felt a sudden surge of courage within him. Especially so when he saw Pinkie dressed as some old-timey burlesque dancer, feathery hat included.

The heroic stallion leaped onto the scene and pointed a hoof, "Stop right there, villainous scum! You won't be hurting Pinkie Pie anytime soon!"

"Yeah, and what are you going to do about it? Oh, shoot-" The Griffon looked at her claw and read off her script, "Uh… Nigga, please! Then do something, nigga! Or you… Best be leaving? Err, nigga." She added for good measure.

Pinkie waved a hoof dramatically in the air, "Oh, Caramel, help me! Swoon! Sigh!"

He ran towards Gilda and pulled his hoof back as far as possible. With a stop when in proximity, the hero threw his arm forward with all of his strength and gave an effeminate grunt. Gilda barely felt the girly slap on her back leg and murmured several insults.

"Oh! Woe is me! I have been defeated and bested by you in hoof-to-claw combat!" She fell over and shot her appendages in the air, her tongue sticking out of her beak, "I am dead."

Caramel was sweating incredibly from the tension but forced himself forward to the mare he had just saved the life of. He cradled her seemingly tired and wounded body and held her neck up, tears streaming down his face.

"Why, Pinkie, why? Why did this have to happen to you?"

She coughed once, "Cldsirg…"

"What?"

"I said, 'closer.'"

He obliged and moved in a few inches.

"Closer…"

Caramel did so again.

Pinkie twitched several times, "Closer!"

He readily moved in as close as possible, rubbing up against her.

"Now…" she whispered in his ear, "… do you like surprises?"

He tilted his head in confusion, "…Huh?"

Suddenly, some creature leaped out of the nearby bush, throwing its arms wildly in the air, yelling, "DISTRICT COURT JUDGES WORK WITH OTHER MISCELLANEOUS JUDICIAL DIVISIONS AND PERSONNEL IN HANDLING THEIR CASELOADS! THEY INCLUDE THE TERRITORIAL COURTS, U.S. MAGISTRATES AND BANKRUPTCY COURTS!"

Caramel fell backwards, babbling in fright. He then passed out on the ground, his heart nearly rupturing from both shock and fear. His back legs twitched around several times before he just stopped entirely, other than his chest still rising and falling. All three pranksters broke out in laughter and walked from the scene, with a few caring citizens heading over to Caramel to make sure he wasn't dead. The group kept walking until they reached the park, where they stopped to rest.

Pinkie hopped off the bench and smiled at her two compatriots, "Well, I gotta prepare for the party! You guys are coming, riiiiiggght?" She finished by extending her neck out.

"You gonna have lemonade?"

"Of course, silly!" She said, lightly hitting his leg with her hoof.

"Ight, then."

"Goody! See you niggas later!" The mare exclaimed as she clopped her hooves together and zipped off.

Gilda snorted and watched as ponies passed in the park, "Man, this place is boring."

"Word. Shit is unnatural."

"So, where ya from?"

"Aaaattttlanta!" he responded, "Where the real niggas at!" Gucci stood up, "Chyeah! Motherfuck Jeezy! Motherfuck Jay-Z! Motherfuck Def Jam! Gentlemen, here comes the left blow!" He threw a few punches and continued, "Cause I'm the G-U-C-C-I and this is the season! To let the real motherfuckin' G's in! Yo-"

"Hey, are you singing a song?"

Gucci stopped and deflated, "Bitch, I was rapping some hard shit. Fuck it though, I'm tired as shit right now."

"You were whatting?"

"Rapping, doy!"

"Huh. Never heard of something like that before," she admitted.

"Yeah, well that shi-" he stopped and stared at something in front of him.

"Hey, what's-" Gilda looked at what he was seeing.

Not far from where the two were, a gray mare with blond hair and bubbles on her flank was sitting on her haunches, being terrorized by four stallions who shouted rude names at her. It was obvious she was crying; even from their distance it was easily visible. Now, Gucci was a kind and benevolent man who knew justice inside and out. Certain things set him off, like excessive use of the word "cracker" and hate crimes. But seeing this made him depressed. And no one makes Gucci Mane depressed and gets away with it, at least, intact they don't.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Gilda asked as he stomped off towards the stallions.

"Gonna bust at some bitches, bitch."

Gucci stood over the group of stallions and listened to the various insults they threw at the crying mare.

"DERPDERPDERP!"

"COME ON, DERPINATOR! WHY DON'T YOU GET YOUR PRECIOUS MUFFINS TO HELP YOU?"

"LOOK AT THIS FREAK! WHAT KINDA MARE IS CROSS-EYED?"

"HAH! HOW SHE EVEN HAD THAT FOAL IS BEYOND ME! WHOEVER WOULD WANT TO HAVE ONE WITH HER IS A STUPI-"

That last stallion was rudely cut off when one of Gucci's right shoe was planted in his face. This didn't go unnoticed as the other stallions took offensive stances, each surprised to see an unknown creature suddenly attacking them.

"WHAT IN CELESTIA'S BEARD IS THAT!" The nearest one yelled.

He was the second pony to got merced mercilessly. Gucci pistol-whipped his head, sending him into a forced state of unconsciousness. The other two shifted back, nearly ready to run.

"Ya'll messed with the wrong bitch, ya heard?"

"OH SWEET LUNA IT TALKS!"

Gucci pulled out his monocle, "My word, no need to assume such offensive things and presume that I cannot speak. Truly, you sirs are no better than the slavers of the 1600's who destroyed Africa. I'd like to have a talking to with your mothers after this! Now," he stuff the monocle back in, "have atcha, niggas!"

A brown stallion jumped at him, which failed miserably as Gucci grabbed him by the throat and threw him to the floor. He then proceeded to kick the pony in the crotch until he was sure it was out cold. Gucci turned to find the last beginning to run away. Not on his watch. For he was, The Dark Gucc'.

Gucci leaped onto the back of the pony and gave him a really hard noogie, dropping him to the floor in pain. Then, from what he'd learn from the Shaolin temples of the 36 Chambers, he karate-chopped the stallion in the head, crumpling him into an unconscious pile. Gucci didn't even break a sweat. He headed back to the mare and walked off without a word until Gilda flew up by him.

"Whoa! That was awesome! Where'd you learn to do that?"

Gucci smirked, "Niggas need to learn howta fight on'a streets, ya heard Birdwoman? Them Wu-Tang niggas taught me how to do that shit with their kung-fu-taboo-voodoo-Okinawa type shit."

"Darn, I really need to learn that stuff. Where can I find one of tho-"

"Excuse me?" a voice called out.

They both turned to find the mare from just a few moments ago wiping her eyes clean of tears. She sniffled once and looked up at Gucci with puffy eyes.

"…Thank you… for helping me. Nopony else ever does anymore… and well, they usually make fun of me behind my back…"

Gucci withheld his fury and pulled a Cuban cigar from his jacket, lighting it, "All in a day's work for the iciest nigga out there."

Gilda, in a moment of curiosity, landed next to the mare, who flinched back slightly, "Say, why do you let them do that? Can'tcha just beat 'em up?"

The mare looked away, "I-I don't know how to fight… and-and I don't want to fight! I don't like hurting other ponies!"

The rapper puffed out some smoke, "Gotta learn to protect ya neck, or else ye'll get wrecked, y'kna'mean?"

The Griffon stared at the pony in slight confusion. Being of warrior blood, Gilda always found meekness and weakness to both be the same thing, and the combination was always an infuriatingly revolting sight. Yet, she felt sorry for the mare instead of lashing out like she did with that other pegasus a while back.

"Uh… well," Gilda placed one claw behind her neck and the other on the shoulder of the gray mare, "If those jerks ever um… mess with you again, find me or him." She puffed out her chest proudly, "We'll sort 'em out. Right?"

She turned to Gucci, expecting him to confirm her words. Of course, when she noticed he was he wasn't around, she looked in every direction. The mare pointed to the left, where the man was looting bits off of the knocked out bodies. Gilda face-clawed and turned back to the pony.

"You gotta name?"

The mare looked somewhat thankful, "Derpy."

"Huh." Was all Gilda could respond with.

Gucci came back with several slinkies hanging from his hands, "Nigga's had some nice shit. Damn! I need a blunt, right about fuckin' now!"

The rapper then proceeded to roll a blunt after throwing his cigar into a trash bin, which soon caught fire. Oblivious, he continued to do as he pleased as the pony and the Griffon simply watched in awe at his iciness.

Far, far away, a draconequus was laughing incredibly hard at the new interloper's antics. He hadn't seen such things in thousands of years, and the laughter was refreshing! For now, however, he'd keep watching the human who trespassed in another world. Until things could really get interesting, that is. Oh, how he loved to see such unintentional chaos just manifest without restraint! Delightful. The draconequus sighed happily and continued to wait to see what the rapper would do next. Surely, something of amazing proportions. He was sure of it.


Good god, I've created some kind of amazing monstrosity that's amazing and other shit like that. Or did I? Wooo, mystery!

Anyway, gotta take a break after writing this, focus on my other stories and stuff. Thank everyone who actually takes the time to read this shit or like it.

As Always,

Stay Trilla.