I close my laptop and sigh. Even five years after the show ended, the fandom’s remained pretty strong. There’s new stuff almost every day; Gotta love those die hard bronies. Their content distracts me daily. But how is it when I need clop I don’t get it? It’s my twenty-fifth birthday and I need some pleasure to celebrate. Nobody’s coming over except my idiot teenage brother Kris who I don’t give a flying shit about. He’s just coming over to steal some of my beer and harass me about my “hobby”. The ungrateful little faggot; I let him live with me for six years, and that’s how he repays me? Granted, he did move away to live with one of his friends to get away from me and my ponies, but I was still the reason he survived for a long time. Meh, what are you going to do? I take a swig of my Jack Daniels and continue on my quest for pony sexy times.
It’s a bright and sunny morning in Canterlot. Looking out my window to the Canterlot streets shows me that everypony is outside promenading in the walkways today. I myself, however, am not romping in the parks, nor was I even away from my boutique. I have a large order to fill! Hoity Toity wants a new shipment of one of my best selling dresses again, and he wants them in two days! Thankfully, I have practiced my magic considerably since Twilight got coronated, and am running four sewing machines at once. I would have more, but alas, I am tired today.
Poof! I reel around in shock, and see lumps of sewing machine shaped spaghetti, and Discord. That explains it.
“Oh, Discord. Very funny dahling, but I simply need those for an order I need to fill! Certainly you understand, right?” I ask him. I simply don’t have time for such frivolous behavior!
“Oh, Rarity. Love what you’ve done with the place, really, I do. But I don’t think you’ll be able to fill that order.” Discord tells me. Why, that’s preposterous! I always have time for-
And then he touches my forehead.
Damn, I must’ve fallen asleep: I had that dream again, the one about the ending to My Little Pony. It’s cause enough to give anyone nightmares, and I still have no idea how they managed to air that on a kids show.
The doorbell rings, breaking me out of my haze. Shit. How long was I out for? A glance at my watch shows me the number. Three hours. And that must mean Kris is here. God dammit. I shuffle to the door and throw it open, only to see the sight I’d been dreading. Kris is right outside the doorway, his jet black hair in a mohawk as usual, with purple tips at the end. And counting the ones I could see, he took the number of piercings on his face up from two to make five. His friend Duncan was behind him. Duncan looks like Kris, but with green and neon blue hair. I can see Kris’s slutty girlfriend clinging onto his elbow, and who has to be Duncan’s girlfriend beside him.
“Nice to see you, shithead.” Kris says bitterly to me. Duncan has a pleased look on his face, and the two blonde airheads giggle.
“Can’t say it’s nice to see you, but I can definitely call you a shithead.” I curtly reply. Kris rolls his eyes and pushes me aside to enter my apartment.
“Nice place you got here. It’s only gotten shittier since I came here last.” He looks around at my living room and kitchen.
“Well, that’s probably because you wrecked the place last time you came over and there’s still some trash I missed. Here, there’s some now.” I look at the intruder and his drinking buddies, but they’re too busy searching every square inch of my apartment for something to tease me about. I’m just glad I hid all my pony posters and other stuff in places that only I know about; behind my couch, in my special lockable cabinet, those kinds of places.
But now one of the girls is dangerously close to my Twilight Sparkle poster. It’s sticking just far enough out from behind the couch to be seen. I cross my fingers and hope that she’s too stupid to find it. After a few seconds of tension, I confirm that post-millennial stupidity exists.
My thoughts are broken by a shout. “Hey Ryan, get your ass in here and see if this fag’s got some pony shit!” I pray it’s not who I think it is. Of course it is. Kris, for the second time today, ruins my day. But this time it’s not just an annoying little brother being an annoying brother. Oh no! This time he had to bring Ryan. Ryan Hawthorne, to be exact. The same Ryan Hawthorne that was part of my close circle of friends before I left over three years ago, after him and the other two people in our group started criticizing my decisions over text or e-mail. (There were more people, but they all left and blamed me and whoever was still their friend.) I mean, if I’m doing something you don’t like, why not tell me to my face? But anyways, Ryan walks right through the fucking door and comes to a screeching halt the second he sees me. A smile forms on his face until he’s just standing in the doorway grinning like a madman. Suddenly a “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!” comes right out of his mouth and he runs over to me and hugs me!
“OHMYGOSHI’MSOGLADIT’SYOUI’VEBEENTRYINGFOREVERTOFINDATLEASTONEOFYOUSOWECOULDGETBACKTOGETHERANDLIVEHAPPILYEVERAFTERIKNOWITMAYTAKEAWHILEBUTIDONTCAREOHMYGODI’MSOEXCITED!!!!!” Ryan says, his words moving faster than the scared cat from one of those YouTube videos.
“All I heard was ‘get back together’ and ‘take a while’” I tell Ryan, already not liking where this was going.
“Yo! You know this douche?” Kris asks Ryan.
“Yep! We’re best friends!” Ryan tells Kris. Okay, obviously he’s on drugs, or something, because we haven’t been friends for three years.
“No, we’re not.” I tell him.
“Huh?” both Ryan and Kris say.
“You texted me saying ‘Little Pon3 Dreams’ is shit and unworthy of being on my already crappy YouTube channel.” I say, very much annoyed with Ryan.
“I’ll say what I said when you left. I never sent that message.” Ryan lies to me, losing the chipper tone in his voice.
“You know what, this is stupid. I’m outta here.” Duncan says. He struts out the door, with his pet blonde in tow.
“I’m bookin’ it too. Have a fucked up birthday you gay asshole.” Kris shouts, running out the door. The blonde chick that was obviously going to fuck him soon was running to catch up with him. I think she may have twisted her ankle in those heels. I don’t know and I don’t care. What I do know is, I’ve got another demented asshole on my hands, and that would be Ryan.
I turn to face him. “Look, since Brandon left you sent me shit about my music whenever I was away recording. Before ‘Little Pon3 Dreams’, you dissed ‘Pinkie Pie Promise’, ‘Twilight Skies’, and ‘Appleoosan’. All through text right after I told you about it. I have no idea how you could do that and forget about it.”
“I never texted you anything!”
“Then who did?!”
“I don’t know!” Ryan bursts into tears. “I don’t know! All I know is my best friends left me and blamed me and everyone else! All I know is that I’ve blamed myself for three years, and when I tried to find one of my best friends, he said the same thing he did when he left! That’s it! I don’t know anything else!” he continues.
“Whoa, man, it’s alright. Don’t get tear stains on my carpet.” I say in a maternal tone. He finishes crying and looks at me. “There. Now, do have any place to stay?” Ryan shakes his head. “God dammit. Well, I guess you could sleep here tonight.”
Ryan instantly smiles. “I call sofa!” he calls out to me as he runs over to the couch.
Suddenly, a loud gong sends unbearable noise everywhere. “What is that?!” Ryan shouts, drowning out the gong, even though it’s dying down.
“It’s the old lady upstairs’ grand fucking father clock. And the worst part is, it’s fast a minute.” I tell him. “And judging by the clock, it’s about ten-ish right now. Hey cool, it’s only a few minutes until my official birthday.”
“Hey! Mine too!” Ryan shouts. “In fact, it should be about right now!"
“That’s cool.” I tell Ryan. He stares off into space. “Yo, Ryan, ya wanna go to sleep now? You got a long way to go until you get to the person’s house closest to us. I think it’s Michael? Don’t know. Anyways,-” Ryan is still spacing out so I wave my hand in front of his face. No response. I yell in his ear. No response. I think about drawing a penis on his head. Maybe tomorrow. I wait for a few minutes, just staring at him. After three lost staring contests, he wakes up. Ryan shakes his head a bit and scratches his thigh.
“Dude, you’ve been out for like five minutes.” I tell him.
“What? That’s crazy. I didn’t-” The look on my face tells him otherwise. “Oh. Well, it’s been a long night, I’mma head off to bed!” He hops on the couch and lays his head on the pillow. I turn away from him and prepare to take a shower. I take off my clothes and turn on the water, all the time thinking about Ryan. Are we really going to reunite friendships when we (as far as I know) still hate each other? And why did I let Ryan stay with me tonight? He was a huge dick! I step into the shower. Whoa. That’s cold water. But I thought I had the water at it’s hottest! Maybe I spaced out like Ryan? I don’t know. I grab my underwear from the floor and bend over to put it on, but freeze in my tracks. What I see is something I never thought I’d see in real life. Something I never would want on me in the first place! And I know I didn’t have it when I took off my clothes! It’s not possible!
So then why do I have Rarity’s cutie mark?
