Artist Training Grounds: Mock War, Day 3

Recruits! I'm pleased to report that our adjustment period is finally at an end! No more hiccups, no more stalling, no more apologies. Forward, march! You've all done a wonderful job completing your training. All in all 507 ponies made it through boot camp, making our official submission total for the event 1058 pictures! As I believe the saying goes, that's a lot of pony! Keep up the good work!

Now for the repetitive part. You'll find the official submission script right here. Please remember to fill out the name section correctly, using whatever name you would like to be known by. There's no right or wrong answer, but we can't call you anything when your name is "ATG Day 3". Unless you have very weird parents. Remember to get the full image url if you're submitting from DeviantART, which should be locatable by right clicking the image and selecting the appropriate option. All problem children may, as always, come to me at, and I'll do my best to get you sorted.

Day 3: Who Are You Calling a Dweeb?!
 War. War never changes. Even when it involves diminutive technicolor equines and baked goods instead of bullets, even when it finally gives you the chance to make that Fallout reference you've always wanted to try, it's still hell. Your commanders patted you on the back and told you that your training was complete. Maybe you even believed them, just a little. But now, surrounded by the burst of jam filled water balloons, comrades on the floor covered in whip cream, you realize what a foal you've been. 

And now you've caught yourself making pony puns. Well that's just super. Instinct kicks in, and you narrowly dodge another pastry barrage and make your way farther into the battlefield. Little skirmishes start up all around you. There's no way forward, no way back. Suddenly, a griffon drops to the ground in front of you, bowling you over and leering derisively. You try to crawl away, to find safety, but she towers over you, pulling out a pair of foam daggers, which she grips effortlessly in her very handlike front claws. Oh, you cheating mother f–

"Yo, dweeb! Hurry up and taking your beating like a good little pony, I've got places to be!"\

Wait, what did she just call you? Oh, it. Is. On.
Assignment: Draw a pony dueling
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