My life with an OC

I came home from job, as usual.

“About time!” she yelled from the couch, “Did you get them?”

She was switching channels aimlessly, as usual until Xena re-runs starts; three and a half weekly hours of chakram-on-ass action. Sweet.

I sat heavily by her side, sighing, and dropped a bag on her head. She snorted and growled something, opened the plastic bag and took out its content: a red alien looking fruit, like the unholy spawn of a pineapple and a radish.

Man, does she love those things! She smelled it thoroughly, half-lidded eyes and a Nirvana-reaching grin on her face.

“Oh-ho-hoooo, Sweet Celestia Almighty!” she gasped, and then proceeded to bite a good chunk off the thing, skin and all… those better were the damn best pitayas from the world, because they sure weren’t cheap!

I passed a hand over my face. Good thing it was Friday.

“Dhanks!” she said, spitting little wet chunks all over me.

One would think, ‘Gosh! Living with a pony, yay!’ and I must admit that I, myself, used to think the same way. That was until Windy moved in with me.

“Jesus, Windy, at least chew the damn things!” said I, unbuttoning my shirt collar. The fruit juice flowed from the corners of her lips, which she cleaned with her front leg.

I passed my hand through my hair, sighing again. Oh man, did I make some bad, bad decisions…

“Ish dhere grhaph juish yedh?” she babbled.

“In the fridge…” I pointed at the kitchen.

She gulped and then fluttered off -- yeah, she’s a pegasus, as if I’d choose anything else -- to the kitchen.

And yup, there was the sound of something being knocked off the table.

Then some silence, the soft sound of the fridge opening, some rustling…

Bam! That surely broke.

“Darn it!” I heard her.

Some more unsettling silence…

Crack! Those were the eggs…

“DARN IT!” she swore again.

Well, who would have thought that having a flying pony inside the house would have the exact same aftermath of, well, having a full grown horse stampeding into your apartment?

She came back with a bottle. A beer bottle. I gave her a stare.

“What?” she opened it with her teeth, having an ease beyond my understanding.

“That’s not grape juice,” said I, “And those are mine, by the way”

She stared me dead in the eyes, taking a slow, long sip. I groaned, stood and went to the kitchen.

“At least you could take one for m -- Windy…?! What the--?! ARRGH! Seriously?!”

Until this very day, I don’t know how the whole thing works. I mean, I know what it was all about, but I don’t understand it, because the only fucking explanation I got was: ‘because magic, silly!’ and then they tossed her inside my apartment, along with all her stuff.

They gave me a decreed, though. You know, on a scroll and all that.

“We, the Princesses of Equestria, by this letter’s means make of your knowledge that the mare/colt/creature…” there was an underline with the name ‘Windy Flutter’ written on it, “is now under your protection and responsibility, being you the one who brought her/him/it into existence.

Wishing you a good day:

Princess Celestia

Princess Luna

Princess Twilight Sparkle”

Windy explained me all some time later, when I was done with my rage-induced seizure.

From some time, whenever you created an OC, you created it, like, for real, somewhere in the pony world. Pretty cool, huh?

Well, it wasn’t that cool for Equestria, mind you. The OC population increased exponentially; in some cases, it provoked the rise of ridiculously powerful threats to their world, all of them brony’s courtesy.

After barely saving Equestria from dragons, changelings, evil alicorns, perverted octopuses and Saiyan Discord an outrageous number of times, the Princesses found a way to fix this “glitch” on reality. So, yeah, don’t worry: go on and write your Evil Dead/My Little Pony crossover. Nothing is going to happen. I hope.

Anyway, they now had to deal with the ridiculous amount of ponies invading Equestria, so they relocated (banished) many of these low profile citizens to the human world. Because, friendship and all, they needed the space for the original ponies to live in and, well, because some OCs are jerks.

But they wouldn’t leave them on their own, I mean, they are not heartless: they made the creators take care of them, because it was fair after all the mess they provoked.

Ah, yes, poetic justice… damn, damn poetic justice.

“Hey, didn't they programmed a storm by early morning?” said I, a clean kitchen and well past halfway the weekly Xenathon later.

“Yup” she bit her last pitaya, eyes on the screen.

“So…”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you be preparing to go like, right now?”

She sighed heavily. I don’t know why, but I knew what was coming…

“OK, listen…” she began.

“No… Nonononononononoooooooooo! C’mon Windy! Again?!”

“You don’t even let me explain!”

“What you have to explain! This is like the fifth time, the fifth fucking time they suspend you!” I shouted.

“It is the seventh time, actually. I went to the park that weekend, because I knew you would be mad…”

“Windy!”

“I know, I know!” she waved her hooves on the air, “I’ll do the extra hours next week, okay? Jeez!”

“We need the money now! ... Hell, you need the money! I can’t pay for your maintenance all on my own!”

“Fine!” she shouted, fluttering to be face to face with me, “You want the stinky money? I’ll give you the darn money, and then I’m outta here!”

She flew to the door without turning back to see me.

“Ha, I would pay to see that!” I followed her to the aisle, “With the money you don’t have!”

“Well, maybe I’ll pay for you, because I’m out right now!”

“Yeah? Well… well then save the change because I don’t give a damn!”

“That is the worst come back ever!”

“Oh, yeah?!”

“Yeah!”

“Then you better don’t come back!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

She tried to grasp the doorknob and turn it, but she couldn’t. She tried again, but failed. She took the doorknob with both hooves and tried to turn it, shake it and kick it, but the thing just didn’t open. When biting it proved fruitless, she gave up.

“I’m leaving trough the window!” she shouted, and then leaved.

That was at like eight. At midnight I was sitting on the couch, two empty beers rolling on the floor and the TV turned on, babbling about some stupid magic hose or something. I hate to admit it, but yes, I was worried sick.

Then she entered through the window.

She looked sorry, you know, one can tell: her head looking down, her shoulders down… her brownish coat seemed grayer, I don’t know. I just was relieved she was home.

She looked up to me. I looked back to her.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi”

There was an awkward silence, and we just kind of looked around for a while, avoiding eye contact. She then flew towards me, and sat next to me on the couch. We acted as if the hose was of some interest to us. ‘Hell yeah, it wrap itself and grow longer with the water!’

“Hey, uh…” we both said at the same time.

“Yeah?” said I.

“Oh, uh… no, you first”

“I, uh, no, go on”

“Well…” she scratched her arm, looking down, “I’m sorry about being suspended. I promise I’m going to do the extra hours and pay you. And no troubles this time”

I sighed. C’mon, you couldn’t be mad with any pony! I dare you to be mad at a pair of those big, shiny eyes.

“Hey, you know is not for the money…” I said.

“It’s not?”

“Weeeeell… OK, is a little bit for the money,” I had to admit, “But you know I like having you here, right?”

She nodded.

“It’s just that things are getting tough, you know? That gets me cranky. All I’m asking for is a hand—a hoof with the bills…”

She leaned her head on my arm, and I caressed her mane.

“I’m sorry I shouted you…” said I, “And… well, I think I lost it for a moment”

“Heh, yeah…” she smiled, “I thought you were going to have an aneurism!”

“Don’t push it”

“Oh, ok”

I rustled her mane a little bit. Yeah, things sometimes were rough, and she could be a pain in the ass… but, there were something awesome about this all. I mean, after all, I was living with a magical pony from Equestria… an obnoxious, uninvited and non canon one, but still.

“Why the heck are we watching this?” she said.

“I don’t know, I didn’t change the channel…”

“Aw, dude! I missed the last episode!” she turned to me, “Which one was?”

“I… I think it was the one when they sing…?”

“Aw, maaaaaaan… did you record it?”

“Yup”

“Play it!”