image from https://drive.google.com/drive/u/0/folders/19KXoF4o8BU9JZHKxNqyc7_xiGMeWRV6H
Game https://textadventures.co.uk/games/view/g4hmzzzbbku4zls4xkhxoa/reign-equestria

You watch Embers enormous, tree trunk thick leg rise upwards as the deep rumbling groan
of her guts rises into a fever pitch. You're not even looking at the paperwork any longer,
staring completely up at those enormous blue ass cheeks as they wobble into position. You
see her cheeks bounce back and your eyes widen in horror as you know what's coming but it's
too late to avoid it. "WAIT!" you shriek.

FFFFRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOFFFFRRRRRPPPPRRROOOOOOOFFFFFBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRROOOOTTIT
An utterly enormous fart comes thundering from her ass, pounding out of her backside and
blasting over you. In a second you're hit by a jet of burning hot flames that utterly reek of
beyond rotten eggs. The sulphurous stink of dragon flatulence as noxious but perhaps not as
lethal as the burning heat of the flames that surround you.

‘Ember’s enormous ass cheeks shake and rumble with the force of her flatulence as the
burning, stinking heat of her fiery fartstorm swirl up into a wave of utterly noxious brown
tinged stink. Burning shreds of paper turned to spinning cinders flutter up with the foul gas
as your senses are utterly scorched by the spicy ass rip. The fiery flames keep coming and
coming, encasing you in nothing but heat and stench. It's overwhelming, but somehow you
stay standing through it, even as your senses are fried on the rotten reek and scorching heat.

When the minute long fart storm comes to an end her cheeks finally stop shaking and the
putrid cloud dissipates to reveal you. Your body has been reduced to nothing but ash, much
like the paperwork around you. The only part of you still white is the whites of your eyes as
you blink twice in shocked disbelief. Then your body gives in. You collapse from the hooves
upwards, falling away as nothing but ash to pile up on the ground in the burnt scorch mark of
her fart crater. Not even your eyes remain as you're left a heap of stinking ash, the tiara that
thuds into your piled up form the only proof the ash was ever a Princess.

Ember’s enormous foot slams back to the floor as she huffs. "Just as I suspected. You ponies
are weaker than a dragon's fart.”

GAME OVER! Trying to take advantage of a furious dragon is never a good idea. It doesn't
‘matter if you're the Princess, if you piss off a dragoness it's a recipe for being blasted into
nothing but a stinking pile of reeking ash. You can't even twitch as Ember storms off, satisfied
that the agreements have been destroyed, and that the ponies will take the dragons more
seriously now that she'd made her point. The next pony to sit in Equestria's throne will
definitely comply with whatever she asks.