The Minority Pony

by Lunafilly

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Comedy, Random
Length: 5294

Mexican Gay Anarchist Extreme Left Wing Mormon Tea Party Extreme Right Wing Militant Athiest Brony Wiccan Mafioso Karaoke Bar-Owning Mushroom-Hating Pinkie Pie. Lives her life.

Mexican Gay Anarchist Extreme Left Wing Mormon Tea Party Extreme Right Wing Militant Athiest Brony Wiccan Mafioso Karaoke Bar-Owning Mushroom-Hating Pinkie Pie. This is the tale of one mare's quest to be her own pony, adopting minorities, breaking the law, opening a karaoke bar and falling in love.

NOTE: This fanfiction may contain offensive content. Please keep in mind that the weightier topics raised were used only in jest, and that I have no intent to insult or stereotype the minorities mentioned. Cover art courtesy of hewison, go check him out.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-03 00:57:44 UTC

Chapter one, in which various things come to pass.

My name is Pinkamena Diane Pie. Pinkie for short. Wait, no it's not. I should probably have another name, given that I am an unfair user of this one. I am not Pinkie Pie, but merely a double. I have not even a name to distinguish myself, but yet so many other things. You see, in the time that I have been alive, I have attempted to differentiate myself from the original Pinkie Pie by adopting as many minorities as possible. Currently, I am Mexican Gay Anarchist  Extreme Left Wing Pinkie Pie. And today, I am joining the Mormon Church of Ponyville. How, you ask, do I join the Mormon church when I am gay, anarchist, and extremely left-wing? That doesn't make any sense, you say. Well, dear friend, my eloquent answer is this: YOU DON'T MAKE ANY SENSE!!! Indeed.

So off I go, into town, wearing a mustache and a sombrero in the hope that no one will mistake me for the one I bear the face of. They do not, for I do not smile and say hello in the manner of my double. And so, I walk alone to the Mormon Church. I meet with the Mormon missionaries, and I nod and hold up the Book of Mormon. After joining the Mormon Church, I find a Republican office. I am now officially a tea-party conservative. And extremely left-wing. Yes, I very well know that that makes no sense whatsoever. After this occurs, I shamble over to my favored gay karaoke bar. Then, I see the sign. The terrible sign. The sign on the  front door of the karaoke bar. The one that says "closed, going out of business". Oh, woe is me, the false Pinkie! Oh, that rhymes. THAT'S NOT THE POINT!!! You know what? I'll open my OWN gay karaoke bar! With blackjack, and hook-wait, I cannot say that, I do believe I ripped it off from something. Ah, well.

Time to go home, and think things out. It's been a long day. When I get up, I realize that I cannot open a gay karaoke bar if I do not even have a real name (because obviously there can only be one Pinkie Pie) Henceforth, I am Karaoke Dokie. Then, I pick up some cheap mane dye. I cannot look exactly like the true Pinkie. I dye my mane and tail a dark blue, then straighten them with a clothing iron. I do not own a mane iron. Petty things. I also grab a pot of paint in my teeth, and paint over my- Pinkie Pie's-cutie mark. I replace it with a microphone, for karaoke. It looks a bit crude, but no matter. On the inside though, I will still be Mexican Gay Anarchist Extreme Left Wing Mormon Tea Party Extreme Right Wing Pinkie Pie. Indeed. And so, I go about town, saddlebags stuffed with money, attempting to find a location. After much searching, and little success, I find the home of the Mushroom family. It is being foreclosed upon.

Which is all the better for me, as Merry Mushroom is not much of a motivated seller. She is passed out on the lawn, a pile of colorful mushrooms beside her. Changing the subject, the property is VERY affordable. Anyhow, I sign the deed and then go meet with MAAP. What is MAAP, you say? It is Militant Atheists Around Ponyville. Yes, I understand the obvious contradiction between being an atheist and being Mormon. Then why do it? Well, perhaps some questions are best left unanswered.

After MAAP, I go to the music store, to pick up a basic karaoke machine. I select one in lurid pink, then take it home and paint a rainbow and "Karaoke Dokie's Singing Words On A Screen Bar (For Gay Ponies)". That is what I shall call my bar. And so, I take a taxi to the former Mushroom residence, bringing a contractor that I found lingering in the gutters. Damned contractors are  infesting this town like rats. He quotes me a price, and I call in several tearing-out and re-building sorts of services. I leave for a quick beer at the local non-karaoke bar, and walking out, I slam head first into a blue pony with a rainbow mane. She  fixes her ruffled mane, then apologizes.

     "Sorry about that. Hey, I'm Rainbow Dash, fastest flyer in Equestria. Who are you?" I start to say my real name, but I manage to stifle it with a small choking noise.

     "Karaoke Dokie. I cannot fly," I say, attempting a nonchalant tone. She shrugs.

     "Well, I can buy you a drink or something if you want. As, like, an apology," Rainbow Dash says. I nod politely, and follow her back into the bar. Once we're there, I order a Manehattan, and she gets a maretini. We purchase many more drinks, and slowly becomes drunk. And then she vomits on the floor. I hail a taxi, because obviously this mare is in no condition to fly. I am not doing much better. Not knowing where she lives, I bring her to my home and set her up on my couch. When I wake up, I assemble a dandelion salad for breakfast, to be eaten when Rainbow Dash comes to. Eventually, she gets up off my couch, groaning and holding her aching head.

     "Ugh, am I at your place? Karaoke, how many drinks did I have?" she says, her voice raspy.

     "I do not know, but far too many. And yes, you are at my 'place', so to speak," I say calmly, making the air quotes with my hooves when I say "place". Rainbow Dash laughs. I simply laugh along. We eat the salad I made, and I feel sorry once she's gone. She is a good mare. Pushing her from my mind, I go to check on the progress. My understanding is that the Mushrooms  used to own quite a bit of land, but it went to pot after they squandered their earnings and spent a lot of time eating oddly colored mushrooms. So now they just own a three room house, or rather owned, as the last surviving Mushroom sold it to me.

The kitchen is being converted into a bar, the bedroom a karaoke room and the bathroom is still a bathroom, though I am pulling out the shower and redoing the wall and floors. Also, it smells like mushrooms. Something must be done about that. But progress is going well. After I tire of watching the workers work, I attend a theater presentation of the show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. You know, the show I live in. After that, I go to a Wiccan spell casting group, and help them cast their spell by making a magic circle with some mushrooms I dug up around the Mushroom property. To diffuse the mushroom-y smell, you see. I am unsure why I carried them with me. Anyhow, I am now Mexican Gay Anarchist Extreme Left Wing Mormon Tea Party Extreme Right Wing Militant Atheist Brony Wiccan Pinkie Pie. And yes, I am a member of two contradictory religions while being an atheist. That is my way. I go to bed, eagerly awaiting the next morning. I get up, eat breakfast, and am about to go check on the remodeling progress, when... I am struck with a sudden desire to see the pony Rainbow Dash. And so I set out for the bar where I met her. Indeed.

Chapter two, in which Pinkie prepares for various things.

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.

Chapter three, in which I die.

I do believe I shall skip the boring part of this story, in which I check into my hotel, rent a rickshaw, rob a wig shop, and fill the rickshaw with stolen wigs. I will also gloss over the portion of the story where I wear a purple wig to a Wiccan coven meeting, and dance around a large cat statue. So, with a hop, a skip, and a jump, I will move the setting of this sorry tale to outside Octavia Melody's residence, where I am greeted by an anorexic mare named Fleur-de-lis.

"Excuse me, miss, do you have an appointment?" she asks politely. Then I remember that I do not have an appointment, and analyze the situation. There is a chain-link fence, me, a rickshaw full of wigs, two burly security stallions, and a prissy receptionist. And there is a mansion I wish to enter. Indeed. I run at the fence, and bust through it with my rickshaw. Wigs fly everywhere. I am being pursued by the security stallions, as well as Miss Fleur-de-lis, who is ruining her perfect manestyle. But this is one of those things I do not care about. I crash through the doors of thhe mansion, again leaving a trail of wigs in my wake. I crash through to Octavia's room, where she sits, and I bow slightly, making a beribboned yellow wig fall off my black, disheveled mane. She looks at me as though I am a disgusting slug of some kind, and then she waves back the guards and the furious Fleur-de-lis.

"What do you want?" Octavia says disdainfully. I look her in the eyes, and try to appear as a serious mare.

"I want to begin working for you," I say gravely. I am very impressive when I need to be.

"You?" Octavia says with a laugh. Apparently I am not as impressive as I would have hoped. But I fix my eyes upon her, giving her my steely gaze.

"Yes, indeed. Me. I am Maffia Raffia, bank robber and international wig thief," I say with gusto. She snickers.

"Well, I suppose you can run errands, or something. Take this package to Vinyl Scratch, or DJ PON-3, as you may know her." And that is what Miss Melody says, and I grab the package, which is sparkly and blue, with a shiny silver bow on top. As I leave the premises, I resist the temptation to open the box. I walk away from the the mansion, and into the streets of Canterlot. And that is when I see Rainbow Dash and her friends. Rainbow Dash calls out to me.

"Hey, Karaoke, want to hang out with me and my friends?" she says, beckoning me.

"I know not of the Karaoke you mention!" I yell.

"C'mon," she says, "just because you're having a bad hair day doesn't mean I can't recognize you!" But I just run away, and run, and run, and run some more. Because... I am not sure why. I am not sure when my identities became secret. But somehow I feel like a little piece of me has died.

Chapter five, in which I act like a scumbag.

I got the job. I did it. I delivered the package. BUT WHAT'S THE USE?! I came back to Ponyville today. I became Karaoke Dokie again. My coven leader, Ivy Nightshade, screamed and cursed because I was never around. I had made commitments that I never fulfilled. In other words, I acted as though I were a scumbag. The Mormon church leaders were yelling at me, because they had seen me talking to Ivy Nightshade. They found out I was a Wiccan, and booted me out of the Mormon church of Ponyville. In other words, they thought I was a lying scumbag. Perhaps I am.

I went to my atheist group. They saw the Mormons yelling at me. They shrieked at me and told me to get out, if I was going to be religious. Why am I such a scumbag? I went to the Tea Party Republicans. They don't approve of Wiccans. The liberals don't like the right wingers, the Mexican heritage museum doesn't like it when you're broke and you can't pay for your ticket... in short, I'm a mess. I haven't had sex with another mare, so how can I be sure I am gay?

I told myself I would still be Mexican Gay... I thought I would stay the minority pony! That is what I was! But no longer. Now, even though I am Mafia Raffia and Karaoke Dokie on the outside, on the inside I am just plain Pinkie Pie. And that's not even me! That is somepony else! Somepony I barely even know! And only through Rainbow Dash! And I love Rainbow Dash, sort of, I think! And I hardly ever talk to her. All I do is talk to you, reader! I don't even know who you are, goddammit! Ah, damn it all to Tartarus. I must don my Mafia Raffia disguise. I have some packages to deliver.

Chapter six, in which I open a karaoke bar and be the Minority Pony anyway.

Screw those thrice accursed minority groups. I can be a minority if I want to. I spend an hour reading the Book of Mormon, attempting to memorize quotes so I may show off my religious expertise later on and re-enter the church, falsely repentant. I research some spells and copy them down, to show Ivy Nightshade how dedicated I am. I cannot get kicked out of being an anarchist, so I just continue work on that pipe bomb I was making.

I also embellish my sombrero somewhat and make some nachos for lunch. Why yes, that is racial stereotyping. I care not. I like nachos. I also sign up for an online Spanish course, because everypony knows Rosetta Stone is, to use the colloquial expression, lame. I am already working for the mafia, although I am starting to wonder what is in the packages I am delivering. They smell horrible, yet very familiar. I cannot place the scent.

Although I am banned from Equestria Daily, I make it to a screening of Equestria Girls. Also, I am writing a detailed, rambling essay to be self published by me about how horrible liberals are, along with a similar one about conservatives. I plan for them to be published back to back, in a flip book. I also plan to hit ponies in the head with them. Book bashing. And my gay karaoke bar opens today. If anypony asks, I am lesbian.

I go in, light up my neon "open" sign, and then hang up a banner that says "Grand Opening: Karaoke Dokie's Singing Words On a Screen Bar (For Gay Ponies)!". And so, it is done. I shall have many customers. AND THIS STORY WILL FINALLY HAVE SOME EFFING DIALOGUE! And so, I trot into my karaoke bar and wait for some customers. My first customers are a pair of mares by the names of Snapdragon and Bamboo Shoot. They drink for about a half hour, strong liquor, too, until Snapdragon walks up to the karaoke machine and begins a drunken rendition of "Love Me Cheerilee". Bamboo Shoot giggles in an obnoxious high-pitched voice, and begins "Tubby Wubby Pony Waifu", motioning for Snapdragon to join her. Even though their voices are incredibly off key, and they keep pausing their singing to kiss sloppily, I cannot help but feel jealous of their love. I wish I had a marefriend.

A group of colts storms in, and they all drink hard cider and sing the cheesiest songs ever conceived by mankind. I felt like my ears were being sprayed with velveeta.

"Heh, Stormshadow, this is a damn good bar, don'cha think?" says a yellow earth pony. Stormshadow grins at him and says "You got a damn good face!". Then the yellow pony starts laughing, and I feel horrid for one reason or another. Then, the Ponyville weather team walks in. The entire Ponyville weather team, here for a drink. Do you perhaps know who is on the Ponyville weather team. I certainly do. RAINBOW DASH, THAT'S WHO! In my karaoke bar.

She orders a drink. Not the same one she ordered when she was with me, though. I think it is some kind of alcoholic punch. She drinks, and laughs with her friends. I do not usually swear, but right now I feel like SHIT. UTTER SHIT. Because I am jealous. These are just some mares, some stallions, but by virtue of having wings, they get to know Rainbow Dash. Why can I not be on the weather team? I could be her friend, maybe more! But I am not an effing pegasus! Why could I have not been a clone of somepony else? Perhaps Flitter, or Thunderlane. But no. I had to be Pinkie Pie. Ugh. But then my lamenting is interrupted by a hoof tap on my shoulder.

"Hey, Karaoke!" says the amazing Rainbow Dash, " you should totally sing something!" I start to shake my head, but I cannot say no to her earnest face. I just nod, get up and select my song, and commence singing.

The bizarre intro to the song begins, and then..."Pinkie has this feeling, deep inside of Pinkie, when you hold Pinkie in your arms so tight..." and it goes on, with Rainbow Dash blushing violently the whole time. She starts fumbling with the microphone, but she is unable to find a song she likes, so she just starts making one up on the spot.

"Uh... I don't know you that well, but you seem pretty cool. I guess I like you sort of, and you pretty much rule. I crashed into you, and I bought you a drink. That was the start of something, I think. Well, I went to your house, and I slept on your couch, and you didn't care when I puked on your floor. You're a really good friend even though I've barely even met you before..." and she sings. The song is not really very romantic, and not really very well written, but for the first time, I have a friend. Maybe someday, something more. I DO NOT CARE HOW SAPPY THAT SOUNDS! I CAN DESCRIBE MY LAME-ASS FRIENDY ROMANCE WHATEVER THING USING THE PROSE THAT IT PLEASES ME TO USE!

Chapter eight, in which Pinkie has a quiet day for once.

I bury myself in my song, in my work, waiting for Rainbow Dash to come once more. It is a Sunday, and I pray to God for my soul, and for an end to my worries, and for forgiveness. Always for forgiveness. For the drinking, for the lies, for everything. This is the Mormon part of me, in such opposition to the atheist part. When I am an atheist, I am certain no God is there. Then there is being Wiccan, no god then either, I dance in circles and cast magic spells, hoping that the world will connect with me, and my earth pony stamina will come to me. But today is not a godless day. Today is a day for prayer.

I scrub down my bar, cleaning the bathrooms, the stools, until everything sparkles... though that's because I spilled glitter everywhere. But the place is clean. I finish my song, and I put it into the karaoke machine. Rainbow Dash... I want you here. Come to my bar tomorrow, please. WHO THE HELL AM I TALKING TO? Eh, who cares. Who was I talking to when I asked who I was talking to? This whole chapter is a tiresome internal narration that only you and I can hear, reader. Pathetic. I'd rather talk to a rock than you. You likely don't give a flying feather about my life.

But still you listen, though I wonder why. I go to Canterlot in my Mafia Raffia disguise and deliver packages. I met with Octavia yesterday, and it went fine. She was cordial, and praised me on my diligent work. Florrie Lee or whoever was wrong to be worried, I am fine. I have not seen binoculars in my bushes again, and it has all died down. I drink more alfalfa soda, no alcohol today, but tomorrow shall make up for it. Goodbye, then. I need some time alone.

Chapter nine, in which romance happens.

Rainbow Dash is in my bar, staring at me expectantly.

"Are you gonna sing, or what?" she says. I do not want to disappoint her, so I swallow my fear, pick up the microphone, and commence the song.

"Rainbow Dash, not to be trite, but I must say I love you. Your mane is beautiful and bright, and so your eyes are too. But it goes far beyond looks, or simple pickup lines from books. But I must hear your voice, so I give you here a choice. Rainbow Dash, will you go out with me? You're awesome and you're cool, and I hope that you'll agree, and you'll date me, my invitee. Rainbow Dash, you're really hot, and I am sorry that I'm not, and I never use contractions so you know that I mean this a lot. You know, to me, you mean so much, even though they call you butch, but nopony will be derogatory to you as long as you're with me, so Rainbow Dash, without a doubt, I really am asking you out, are you free in maybe six days? Dash, come on, what do you say?"

"Uh, I guess, okay," she says, and the bar breaks out into spontaneous applause. I feel a smile as wide as a... something whatever... creep across my face or some crap such as that. The main point is that I am indeed very badass. I am AWESOME. I go to bed even though it is early. Time flies as you sleep, and I want it to go as fast as possible.

Chapter four, in which I explain my self sort of.

I feel incredibly stupid. "Why have I held my existence in secret?" the stupid pony with my face does ask. Why indeed. I know of what happened to my sisters. I know the reason I have had to disguise myself. But I have been an unreliable narrator. So why did I question myself? I do not know this, but I knew all along why I had to take aliases, and it was not because I needed a name. It was to hide from the horrible Twilight Sparkle.

Why in hell do you THINK I required a rickshaw of wigs? She sent us back to "where we belong". I am not an illusion conjured by the mirror pond! Can I not feel? Can I not... I still have a package to deliver. To a pony lucky enough to have her own body, Vinyl Scratch. And I shall please Octavia Melody if it kills me. For at least I shall die my own pony. Indeed. And so I gallop off through town to Miss Scratch's Canterlot address.

I was given the address by Octavia, who failed to mention that Vinyl did not actually live there. So I have to walk down a dark alley, called the Dawn Alley, where I heard they know everything about everypony. There are shady looking ponies thronged about, and hawking goods from stands. There are all manner of illegal drugs, weapons and arcane spells being sold. There are also star maps. Evil jackasses love celebrities. So I purchase one of said maps, and there is a moment's confusion when the map calls Vinyl Scratch by her stage name. But with my genius mind, I soon deduce that Vinyl and PON-3 are one and the same. Hence, I set off in due course to the house of the one also known as DJ PON-3. I deliver the package with a slight bow, and I ride my  damaged rickshaw into the sunset.

Chapter seven, in which I start to worry.

So, I continue my life. I run my karaoke bar, and I deliver packages, and I write my song for Rainbow Dash. I get shot at a few times, and I think that the pony spying on me has something to do with my Mafia identity. I have not spoken to Octavia Melody personally in some time, but she says she wishes to see me quite soon. I told her that I could arrive at her home that Saturday, but when I walk about in Canterlot, I run into the annoying receptionist who is too damn thin.

"Stay away from Octavia, Pinkie Pie! Leave Canterlot, leave Ponyville, and don't come back!" she shouts. All right, so this is bad. She knows who I am. So I respond in the most calm, collected, mature manner possible.

"Shut your stupid face, you dumbass! I am going to see Octavia whether you like it or not! I am not Pinkie Pie, and I will never be Pinkie Pie!" I say. She frowns.

"I know who you are, Pie. You're a clone," she says in her simpering French accent. That's when I run. How does she know? Is it the pony with the binoculars? Who could that be, who has cause to hate me? I have not done anything to... I helped wreck the entire town of Ponyville. Anypony could hate me. Curses, and I thought my record was clean. Well, it is possible that I could try to claim that I was but one of a roving pack of Pinkies, which is true, but if they are already set against me, I daresay nothing will help. I put my head into my hooves. The moronic receptionist was only trying to help with what limited mental capacities she had. And I yelled at her, like a jerk. So I get on a train, I leave Canterlot, and I put Octavia down for Saturday. When I arrive in Ponyville, I change my disguise to that of Karaoke Dokie, and I open my bar once more.

My first customer is a mare from the Wiccan coven which I am a part of. She looks scared.

"Karaoke, Ivy is talking about booting you out of the coven, again! She doesn't even wear boots! I know this is serious, okay?" she says, looking from side to side worriedly. I smile a fake smile, and laugh a false laugh.

"Oh, I have nothing to fear from her," I say confidently, "would you like a drink?" She shakes her head rapidly, and runs out the door. I am not really all that confident. Then business picks up, and I am back to normality. I am doing fine. So one skinny receptionist-what is her name? Florrie Lee? Well, she warns me of danger. Screw danger! I LAUGH AT DANGER! I AM A FORCE OF NATURE!