The Minority Pony

Sadly, when I arrive at the bar, Rainbow Dash is nowhere to be found. I ask around, and I find out that she is in Canterlot with several of her friends. Apparently one of them sprouted wings, and they have all gone for a celebration.  To survive this disappointment, I go to the store, purchase some black mane dye, and a real mane iron. I am aware I said before mane irons are petty. SO IS YOUR FACE! Indeed.

I go home, bury my face in a pillow, and also I cry for some reason. Then I read through the Book of Mormon for about an hour, because certainly I need some moral support. I suppose you must be wondering why I am reacting so strongly to this, and it is because I have never been disappointed before. This is because I either succeed, or I just do not care. Generally, when I want something done, I do it, even if I need to counterfeit money or steal an enormous number of hats or buy a house that smells like mushrooms. There are also the things I do not care about, such as the fact that my home is tiny and next to the Everfree Forest. If I cared, I would rob a bank and buy a new house. But I do not care.

I do care about Rainbow Dash, but I do not want to rob a bank for her. I do not trust other ponies, and they do not trust me. Perhaps it is for the best that I did not find Rainbow Dash. With that thought, I iron my mane (with a real mane iron), curl it with pencils, and dye it black. I paint over my microphone cutie mark, and replace it with a gun. For today, I am Mafia Raffia. And today, I join the Ponyville mafia. Why do I do this? I don't know and I don't care. But first things first: I need to buy a gun. I slam a sombrero on my head, and prance out the door. That was the first time I have ever been disappointed. And it shall be the last. After going out the door, I head for Sweet Apple Acres. They're an old-style family farm in a rural town. Therefore, they must possess guns. I go up to Big Macintosh and say

"Excuse me sir, but do you have a rifle to spare?" He replies with a simple 'eeyup'.

"May I purchase one?" I ask, getting straight to the heart of the matter. He nods again, and I give him some of the money from my stolen hat ring. He nods, and brings out a rifle.

There is silence for a moment, and then he asks me something: "Do you have a license?" And I reply quite honestly. "

Nope." I fork over the bits, and likewise he forks over the rifle. To ensure the confidentiality of my transaction, I hand over a few extra bits I obtained robbing the First Bank of Ponyville. And I am off back home, to reassume the identity of Karaoke Dokie. I do hope the karaoke bar is progressing well. WAIT JUST A MINUTE! If I am joining the Mafia, then  that means another minority. This means I am now Mexican Gay Anarchist Extreme Left Wing Mormon Tea Party Extreme Right Wing Brony Wiccan Mafioso Pinkie Pie. Indeed. After this profound realization, I head home, and become once again Karaoke. While I am still sober, I purchase a round trip ticket to Canterlot and back, so I can visit with the head honcho of the Mafia, Octavia Melody. I AM NOT INTERESTED IN SEEING RAINBOW DASH!

Now, time to go get sickeningly drunk. I order a maretini to start, the same thing Rainbow Dash ordered the night I met her. After a few too many drinks, I begin to cry my eyes out. Nothing I have ever consumed has felt as intoxicating as my own feelings. Eventually, I pass out on my barstool, and I awaken only when the bartender shoves me out at closing time. If this becomes a regular thing, I will have to add Alcoholic to my list of minorities. I hail a taxi, yelling in a slurred voice, and then I am driven home. I stagger inside, and slump onto my bed. I fall instantly to sleep. The next day, I wake up at six in the morning, not exactly bright and chipper.

I vomit into a grocery bag, make myself a quick breakfast, and I'm off to the Friendship Express. I get on the train, then realized that I have not packed anything, nor made the necessary preparations for the trip. I do believe I'll take the train going out at noon instead. First, I remake myself into Mafia Raffia, and then I pack my suitcase. In goes my rifle, a tuxedo with bow tie (obtained in between chapters of this pathetic fan fiction) and a pencil case full of pencils. I place my trusty sombrero upon my head, and I have some tea and scones before heading out to the Friendship Express. I board the train, awaiting the long trip to Canterlot.