He stared at his typewriter. “Don’t even say it.”
“That wasn’t romantic at all.”
“What did I just say?”
“I-I mean, you almost had something going there, but...I-I don’t even know what to call that last part. Were y-you even trying?”
“I believe literature professors call it ‘Deus Ex Machina.’” He huffed his cigarette in defiance.
“Deus Ex Machina is for hacks and e-everybody knows it!” he yelled at himself. “And it’s supposed to resolve the conflict of the story, not just end it abruptly!”
He spat out the smoke. “Maybe the story WAS the problem! Maybe romance is nothing more than a hollow meaningless literary experience used to recreate the tingly feeling some dude got in his genetals the first time he ever saw a girl for the first time so that he could get his friend who never leaves the house to experience the same feeling and ever since it’s just been that over and over, just the same guy’s dick-wiggle for thousands and thousands of years trying to worm it’s way into our hearts so his memory or his ghost or whatever can get it on with our capillaries. That is what romance is! Post-mortem cardio fucking!” He threw his cigarette on the ground, causing the ashes to scatter everywhere.
Silence scattered throughout the void, causing even myself to feel awkward. What? I think at him.
He looked back at me, terrified, then slowly moved back to his typewriter.
“Maybe I-I should write the next one?” he asked.
He took a deep breath and picked his cigarette back up. “Yeah. I need a break.”
He placed his fingertips on the keys. “Okay, so this time, I-I’m gonna write based on personality, not on colors.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’ll work, just blatantly ignore the importance of color schemes.”
He ignored himself. “So, opposites attract, right? So w-we’ll use the obvious introvert-extrovert dynamic. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie. I-I believe it’s called FlutterPie.” He laughed at his own observation.
He spat on the ground. “Don’t say those words with my mouth, please.”
He shook his head and began typing.
“So it’s normal?” Pinkie asked the yellow pegasus as she brought her tea up to mouth. “Because I’m just worried silly over Gummy, I’ve been finding scales everywhere! In the sink!" She ducked underneath the table the two of them were sitting at and popped out of Fluttershy's sink. "On the floor!" She spun down the drain and popped out from a hole in the floorboards. "Outside the house!" She sunk into the hole and appeared on the outside of the window. "And it's got me absolutely spooked!" she called, her voice muffled by the glass. She ducked out of view.There was a knock at the door. Fluttershy got out of her chair and walked to the front door, opening it to find Pinkie. "Sorry, your door was locked."
Fluttershy nodded in understandment as she walked back to the table. "Well, for alligators, I'm not entirely sure. But most reptiles come to a time in their life where they start shedding."
"That's gonna be a pain for Twilight!" Pinkie observed.
Fluttershy nodded, then stared into space for a few seconds, imagining the horror of Spike shedding. She quickly shook her head of the image. "But from what you're describing, Gummy seems a little young to be shedding. Maybe it's stress related."
"Oh, I don't think it could be that!" Pinkie said, waving a hoof dismissively. "I make sure he's the most relaxed reptile in the region! I give him bubble baths, tummy massages, full three course meals, you name it! If anything stressful comes into our room, I make sure to cover his eyes!" She jumped on Fluttershy and covered her eyes with one of her hooves. "Just like this! Can't see anything, can ya?"
"Um, Pinkie Pie, I don't think..."
"Fine!" She brought her other hoof up to meet the first one. "There! Ponies have better eyesight, so you gotta use two hooves!"
"Pinkie, I'm sorry, but I think your de-stressing methods might be exactly what's causing him stress." Fluttershy said, lifting one of Pinkie's hooves of her eye.
"But but but-" Pinkie said, stepping back and sounding desperately confused.
"It seems to me like you, um, might just be, uh, smothering him," she said as she sat back down. "I know it's hard to hear, but..."
"Smothering? Gummy? No!" She shook her head frantically. "I make sure his airways are clear of any obstruction every morning!"
"I think your constant care of him isn't allowing him to mature as a pet. He still thinks he should behave like a baby, despite the fact his body is telling him he's growing up."
"But he's my baby! I love him!" Pinkie grabbed at her heart.
Flutter sighed. "I know it's hard to hear, but it's because you love him that you need to take a step back."
"But you're supposed to take the ones you love and hold them close and never ever EVER let them go!" She grabbed Fluttershy out of her chair and pulled her into a hug. "That's how love works!"
Fluttershy attempted to wrangle herself out of the deathgrasp. "Well, um, maybe for your family, but when it comes to the ones you take care of, like children or pets, sometimes, you have to take a step back and let them grow on their own, let them make their own mistakes, learn how to take care of themselves." She was let go by the pink pony, who was now in deep thought.
"I... I think that makes sense, actually." She began muttering to herself. "So, with family love, you hold them close and never ever ever let them go..." She grabbed Fluttershy for another death hug, "But with pet love, you have to take a step back." She lets go and took a few steps away. "I think I get it."
Fluttershy evened out her coat and nodded, smiling. "You can still be there for him, but let him know you believe in him doing things by himself." She picked up her teacup and took a sip.
"But, Shy, there's one more thing..."
She put down her glass. "Yes?"
"What about ponies that aren't in your family?"
Her head tilted. "Hmm?"
"How do you express your love for somepony that you aren't related to, and that isn't your pet?"
She gave Pinkie a confused look. "I'm... not sure what you mean. Do you mean like a friend? Cause I think you know about friendship, Pinkie, it's sort of in the title..."
"I mean, a little more than a friend." Pinkie sat down across the table from the yellow pegasus and put her hooves in the center, towards her. "Like, if you love somepony a lot, but in a weird, butterflies in the tummy kinda way."
"Oh, um... I think you might know more about that than me, Pinkie." Fluttershy averted her gaze. What was Pinkie getting at?
Pinkie leaned over the table, trying to get closer. "Well, if you want, I could... teach you."
"T-teach me?" Her cheeks began turning red.
"I mean, you taught me the right way to love a pet." She stood up straight. "Be there for him, but let him know you believe in him. Take a step back," she recited diligently. She leaned back down. "But you look like you could use some help from me."
"But, Pinkie," she said, looking down. "I... I wouldn't know where to start. You're not related to me, and I might only be able to love you like a pet. It would be very strange."
"I can be a pet! I can be a dog!" She turned around, and when she came to face Fluttershy again, she was wearing a dog mask. "A cat!" Another 360, this time wearing cat ears. "A bird!" She raised her forelegs, revealing them to be covered in feathers that seemed to be taped on. "And we can work our way up from there." She shook all of her accessories off.
"Well, I, uh, suppose, we could... try..."
"Yippee!" She jumped out of her chair and gave her a hug.
"Hold on." Fluttershy said, trying to get out of her chair. Pinkie let go and awaited eagerly as her companion walked to the fridge, and pulled out some sort of small container. "I think it's only appropriate that we share a glass of this. I give it to Angel sometimes. You, being my pet, would enjoy it." She giggled and uncapped it, pouring some into Pinkie's drink.
"Oh boy! I can be a rabbit, too!" She pulled out some rabbit ears from God-knows-where and placed them on her head. "What is it? Carrot juice? I bet carrot flavored tea would be amazing!" She quickly grabbed the cup and chugged the whole thing. Her face contorted. "Euck! Fluttershy, I don't mean to be a meanie, but this tea is absolutely icky!"
"It's not carrot juice," was all Fluttershy had to say in response.
"Then what ih ih?" Pinkie grabbed a hold of her face, which was now just beginning to feel numb. "Wuh? Wuh's goig ah?"
"It was a sedative. I use it when he just refuses to go to bed! Usually, I only have to put one or two drips in, but you being larger and all," She covered her mouth."I just mean larger than a rabbit! I don't think you're fat or anything, no!"
"Ih's fihe."
She sighed out of relief. "But you'll come to in a few hours. But that's all the time I'll need to get us started on our little teaching session."
The room began spinning, and Pinkie stuck her hoof out to try and grab onto the table, but to no avail. She slammed into the ground and began writhing. Colors began blending in her vision as she felt the numbness move its way through her body, until it all combined to make black.
She had a vision of Applejack and Rainbow Dash standing in front of the Apple Family Barn, which was on fire, and Applejack throwing a box onto the fire.
"Well, that's one problem solved." she said.
She woke up in what looked like Fluttershy's living room, only it was dark. The night sky could be seen through the window, which seemed to be a mile away from where she was. She stuck out her hoof to reach for it, but it collided with a metal bar. She looked around and saw that she was in a cage.
"Fuh-uh-i?" she called out.
"Oh, I'm over here!" a voice called from behind her.
Pinkie sloshed her body to face the other direction, knocking her head into more bars of the cage before finally seeing a yellow, slightly blurry being standing in front of her. "Wuh?"
"Well, you said you would be my pet. But of course, I can't have a pet that talks! It would be too hard to train if all my pets could talk back."
Pinkie tilted her head in confusion and fear.
"You know, I've only done the operation on a few parrots. And a crow. Of course, with you being larger... oh, darnit! You know what I mean, right?" she asked apologetically.
Pinkie nodded drunkenly.
She sighed from relief again. "I managed to get the whole thing out with no complications." She smiled victoriously at her achievement.
"Wuh?"
"Here." She picked up a mirror that she was keeping beside her on the floor and lifted it, so that Pinkie's eyes met with her reflection.
At first, nothing seemed too off. A mass of reddish colors. But then, her vision began to focus. There was a shade of red she wasn't used to seeing when she looked into the mirror. It was much darker than her normal complexion, and it was covering the lower half of he face.
Blood. Blood was pouring from her mouth, or at least had been at some point. It was dry now, she didn't see or feel it running down her face. She opened her mouth to scream, and didn't see the whites of her teeth, only more pink and red. She didn't see a tongue. She attempted to stick her hoof in her mouth frantically, missing on the first try and accidentally hitting herself in the eye. She closed the eye and put her hoof in mouth successfully, feeling a total lack of teeth or tongue.
"Now, I know it's going to be a little hard at first. I'm going to have to keep you on the sedative, to make sure you don't feel any pain until the nerves grow back in. But then we can start working on housetraining."
"Wai?" Pinkie cried out, her eyes starting to water.
"Because," Fluttershy responded, smiling a completely nonthreatening smile. "I love you."
My strings hang below me, just barely reaching the the ground. I attempt to stretch them to touch the white, matter-less floor, but they just barely graze the surface, leaving me unable to plant them into the ground to spread my influence like roots. If I had bones, they’d be aching, and my muscles would be sore in the same respect. My direction turns to my host, my cattle, and I slowly glide through the vacuum towards him. I lift my tendrils and place them delicately on his shoulder, feeling his warmth resonate through me. It’s a shame I can’t simply suck his life force like some demons can, but I’m not one to complain.
He didn’t take notice of me, but instead kept his eyes on his typewriter as he twirled his lit cigarette between his fingers. The fiery red end occasionally made contact with his skin, searing the flesh and getting ashes into the wound, but he was so dead to any feelings in his fingertips by now that no emotions showed on his face as the hiss of burning skin echoed through the nothingness that was the void we currently resided in.
“So, what are w-w-we writing now?” he asked.
“I have a weird idea,” he answered to himself.
He tilted his head in curiousity. “How weird? Like, on a scale of one to ten. Actually, no, on a scale of A-Z. That’s a more comprehensive weird scale if y-you ask m-me.”
“Eight.”
“No, I-I said A-Z.”
“I know. And the answer is Eight.”
He cautiously put the cigarette up to his mouth and took a long drag of it.”Okay, I-I’m listening…” he said, smoke forming small pillars in the air as he spoke.
“MLP fic.”
At this suggestion, he recoiled out of panic and turned his head so he could see me, a black mass of tendrils that hang in the air as if suspended by water.
My tendrils shrink from the pain of the idea. He always knew I hate it when he wrote about those cursed creatures. Usually I could convince him not to write about it unless it had at least some element of fear or sadness for me to feed off of. Unfortunately for me, though, he refused to write about the things killing each other. He said something about it being too ‘cheap’ to try and write a violent story about tiny horses, whatever that means.
“MLP? But, w-we don’t have any good ideas what to do with that, do w-we?”
He raised his cigarette to his lips again and held them there and ran his fingers through his dark hair, sighing. “I have a few ideas. Tell me, of the Main Six-”
“Isn’t it Mane Six?”
He put the cigarette down and gave himself a disapproving look.
“Sorry, sorry...”
“Anyway,” he brought it up to his lips again and took a drag, short this time. “Of the Main Six, which two would be the most compatible?”
My strings curl up on themselves. He grits his teeth.
“Now, when y-you say ‘compatible,’ do you mean like, color scheme? Cause if that’s the case, orange and blue are complimentary colors, so I’d probably have to say-”
“No, no, you know what I mean. Which two would be the most compatible in a relationship?”
My strings move towards his neck.
“Now, when y-you say ‘relationship,’ do y-you mean like, business partners? Sisters? Scuba diving team? Cause if it’s last one, just about everyone would have to agree that the most obvious answer would be-”
“No, I mean dating. Life partners. Soul mates, if horses have souls. Girlfriends.”
“Don’t you mean marefriends?”
He squinted his eyes at himself. “Tell me, what’s a mare?”
“Uh, a female po-”
“A female horse? So, like, a girl horse? A horse that is a girl?”
“Yeah-”
“So they can be called girlfriends.”
I wiggle my strings into one the pores of his skin and inject a little essence of pain into his blood. Half of him began to squirm, while the other half simply brought the cigarette up to where I burrow into his skin and placed the hot ember against me. It burned, so I have to pull out. The bastard. He knows I’m too weak right now to resist.
“Like I was saying, I’m thinking romance. Good old horse romance. That’ll turn out well with the readers, right? They love reading about horses making out, it’s a scientific fact.”
“Oh, okay. Who were y-you thinking about writing about?”
He set the cigarette down on the ashtray he keeps next to the typewriter, and moves his hands to the keys. “Okay, picture this,” he says as he starts typing. “A-Jack and R-Dash are sitting in A-Jack’s barn, and between the two of them, a single bottle of cider...”
The glass stood there, filled to the brim with the frothy, sweet smelling liquid that she would often wait for days in a crowded line for. Yet, here it was, laying idly about for her to grab at any moment.
“What’s the catch?” asked Dash.
“The catch,” responded AJ, “Is that you can only have a shot when I have a shot. And you can’t refuse a shot if I take a shot.”
Dash smiled, holding back an amused laugh. “That’s it? We go one for one? Easy!” She picked up the glass. “You’re going down.”
AJ smirked. “Gimme back that glass. I go first, then you take one. Got it?”
“Wait wait wait,” Dash objected, placing it back on the table. “We’re sharing a glass?”
“Yeah? What, is there something wrong with that?”
"Isn’t that how you get germs, or something?”
AJ tilted the glass straight up, sending it on a straight shot from her mouth into the pits of her stomach. She gave a brief shudder, and slammed the glass back down. “Germs can’t live in alcohol, dummy.” She laughed. “And ‘sides, what’s a little spit between friends?” She pulled a full bottle of cider from underneath and filled the glass all the way back up.
Dash chuckled along with her nervously as she reached for the glass. She liked getting drunk alone and in groups, but never with just another pony. It was just boring enough for her to wish she were with more ponies, but awkward enough for her to wish she was alone. It was almost a lose-lose. And if it weren’t for the fact the cider was really darned good, she would have bowed out right then and there. She raised the glass to her lips and downed it.
As she felt the burn of the alcohol slide down her throat, the reality of the situation hit her. She was a lightweight, fitting along with the pegasus stereotype perfectly. AJ made the stuff, and almost definitely had a high tolerance. Wait, what was that comment about spit?
AJ pulled the glass towards her and began to pour, but didn’t drink. She sighed and looked around the barn, mostly empty now. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” She smiled.
Dash looked towards the opening of the barn which would have revealed the starry night sky, but instead, just showed wood. “Uh, AJ, the window’s closed...”
“I mean, I saw a bit of it earlier. Sure was pretty.”
Dash raised an eyebrow.
AJ suddenly became very quiet, still moving her mouth, as if she were saying something that she didn’t want anyone to hear. She looked down at the bottle with sad eyes. She looked back up at Dash, with an obviously forced smile upon her face now. “Just trying to start a little friendly conversation, don’t mind me.”
Dash twisted her head and backed away from the pony across the table from her. She considered AJ to be one of her more down-to-earth friends, but now she was talking about the sky when she couldn’t even see it. She looked down at the full glass. “Aren’t you gonna drink that?”
“What? No, I’m... I’m gonna let it sit for a bit.” She stared at her reflection in the frothy substance. “You know, just to let it breathe.”
“Don’t you let wine breathe?” Dash asked.
AJ rolled her eyes. “Dang grape drinks, think they’re so much better than all the other liquors. If wine had a face, I’d punch it. I’d punch it right in the face.”
Dash stared for a few seconds before the thoughts in her head started to align into a reasonable conclusion. “AJ, did you drink before I came here?”
AJ looked as if she had just been accused of tramping a foal. “What? No! I just opened this bottle when we came in here! You saw me do it!”
Dash shook her head. “No, I mean, did you drink something else before we came here?”
AJ picked up the glass and dowed it. “What if I did? How’s that any of your business?” She picked up the bottle and began to pour. “Your turn,” she said, practically shoving the glass to Dash’s side of the table.
Dash stared at the small glass. The room wasn’t spinning yet, which was usually a good sign. She had at least another two shots in her.
She lifted the glass with both hooves, a gesture that even she admitted was for lightweight eggheads, and brought the liquid up to her lips.
Taking a breath of the strong fumes, Dash’s eyes rolled up in her head and she tilted the glass back, much too slowly, causing herself to choke on the flavor. She coughed and sent a few drops into the air, most landing on the table. A single solitary one did land on AJ’s nose, though. Dash gagged the few remain gulps and set the glass down, hooves outstretched apologetically towards her friend.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” she called out, unsure if she should stand or not.
AJ retained a neutral expression for a few seconds, and then let a single chuckle out. Dash held perfectly still, waiting for a stronger reaction, until she realized there wasn’t one. She did notice that her left hoof was raising against her will, and the room felt larger than before. She should have eaten something before this.
“Havin’ a little trouble there, Dash?” AJ asked, the hint of a smile on her face. Something in her voice had come out that wasn’t there before. It made Dash’s mane stand up on end. It was an almost electric feeling, and Dash was only somewhat sure she liked it.
“I, uh, I…” Dash found herself stuttering. She hoped it was the alcohol. “I breathed in at the wrong time.”
“You and your silly breathing.” What was that? Something in the way she spoke, how her eyes stayed half closed, how she teased and taunted with her playful words. Dash hated this feeling, but at the same time, loved it. She need another drink.
“Your turn.” She pushed the glass across the table, and AJ stopped it by placing her hoof on top, and then poured some cider into it. She lifted the glass up to her collarbone, and then set it down. “Actually, I think you still look a little thirsty. You didn’t get a full drink last time.” She slid it across the table, back at Dash.
Dash picked up the glass and downed it without hesitation. Wait, why did she do that?! It was almost as if AJ had hypnotized her into doing it. The room was tilting from side to side now.
“Mmm, barely burns any-nymore.” Dash’s speech was already starting to slur. That’s it. She could take no more. She pushed the glass over to AJ again. Dash pressed her hooves against the table, trying to maintain any balance she could.
AJ couldn’t help but giggle. “I suppose I owe you a drink after that.” She filled the glass once again, but kept it on the table, merely running her hoof along the edge. Dash watched the hoof go in its circular pattern, and she couldn’t help but imagine AJ accidently slipping the tip of her hoof in, then having to lick the drop of cider off slowly...
“Dash, would you say it’s dishonest to keep a secret?”
“What? I thought we already had, like, a whole episode on this.” Dash said, her tongue feeling slightly too large for her mouth. “And b-besides, wouldn’t you know the most about honesty n’ stuff? Cause like… you ARE that?”
AJ set her hooves on the table and looked at her sternly. “Listen, Rainbow Dash, you’re the element of Loyalty, and I need you be that more than ever right now. You need to make sure that nothing I say right now leaves this barn, got me?”
Dash’s eyes widened out of surprise.“Oh, uh, yeah, of course.”
Applejack let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, you’re the Element of Loyalty, and I’m the Element of Honesty, but... I’ve been keeping a secret from y’all for a while now.”
Dash leaned in, her brain already trying to think of what kind of secret the farm pony could be hiding from her friends. She almost fell over. The possibilities were endless, she realized. It could literally be anything that she didn’t already know about her friend. She could have killed somepony. She could have robbed a bank. She even could have been gay. Wait, no… wait, sure. Wait...
“For the past few months, I...”
“You’re pregnant!” Dash shouted before she had time to think, the force of her voice being so powerful that it knocked her back in her chair and onto the hay covered ground of the barn. “You’re pregnant and Twilight is the mother!”
Applejack stood up and leaned her head to the side of the table, so she could stare at Rainbow with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. “That’s not possible, and it even if it was it wouldn’t be likely.”
“Theeeeeeen your farm is going out of business!” Dash shouted from the ground. “You’re sick with a disease and you’re dying!” She thrashed around on the ground until somehow she found herself back on her hooves. “Just tell me!”
“Calm yourself down, first!” AJ yelled at her, which prompted Dash to sit down obediently. AJ rolled her eyes. “Listen, I ain’t dying, I ain’t going bankrupt, and Twi didn’t cast no magic spell on me involving foal-making, got that?”
Dash nodded fervently, eyes wide and ears open.
AJ stared at her for a few seconds to make sure she wasn’t going to blurt something else stupid out, then sighed. “Well, recently, I think there’s been a mixup in the mail, cause, well, I’ve been receiving some... things in the mail that I certainly didn’t ask for, and I’m fairly certain no one else in my family would ask for, or at least, I hope not, because that would shake up my view of the house I was raised in in a way I really don’t want to think about-”
“Skip to the part with the reveal, please.” Dash slurred. AJ was her best friend, but man that girl could ramble sometimes. Wait, what was ‘man’?
“Okay, geez!” AJ huffed. “Okay, well, recently, I’ve been getting a magazine I’ve never subscribed to...”
“Liar’s Monthly?” Dash chirped in. “Unicorn Supremacy Zine? Pears Monthly?” She wasn’t sure if any of those were real magazines, but they all sounded like something AJ would have no business reading.
“...Playmare.”
Dash’s cheeks could feel her cheeks turn a bright red. And now that she thought of it, because she was blue, the blood flowing to her cheeks really should have made them purple, which was odd. “Is... is that the magazine that has naked purples?” she asked.
AJ growled in frustration. “I already told you, me and Twilight ain't never-”
“Stallions! I mean stallions!”
“-oh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s the one.”
An awkward silence floated between the two of them. Dash had a very specific flashback to flying school when a few of her friends said, probably lying, they had found a Playmare under their mother’s bed. Then she remembered when she had went to a sleepover where she saw the seductive eyes of a stallion with his tail facing towards the camera underneath a couch. She wasn’t sure if that moment traumatized her, but she knew that if 'traumatized' had meant ‘made her feel kinda grossed out and uncomfortable,' then she was traumatized as she could be. Now of course, being older, the sight of one of the magazines probably wouldn’t phaze her as much, but... wait, what was going on?
“Dash? Dash, you still with me, girl?” AJ said, waving her hoof in front of Dash’s face.
Dash shook head and nodded at the same time. “Yeah! I was just... why have you been keeping this a secret? I mean, it’s not- it’s not like anybody would care. You didn’t order it, did you? It’s the mailing place’s mistake.”
AJ sighed. “Cause I still have them all.”
Dash recoiled at this fact and her voice lowered to barely a whisper. “Have you been-?”
“NO!” AJ’s scream echoed throughout the barn. Dash stared, starting to frown. “I mean, I kept the first one, cause, I thought it was a one time mistake, y’know? It’d be kind of wasteful to throw it out, and I could give it as a present or something. But then the next one came, and the next one... soon, I had a pile of them that was too big to move from the basement without someone seeing. And there’re so many... so many... of THEM, just staring at me, I can’t even lift the box. It just-” she shuddered.
Dash nodded, remembering her own personal trauma. “Didn’t you just try closing the box?”
“I can’t! I can’t even get anywhere near it! It’s just so... so dirty! I mean, if someone did look at those types of magazines, I don’t judge them or anything, but I just can’t bring myself to even get near the things!” She shuddered and held out her hooves as if pushing away an imaginary box. “That’s the reason I had you come over tonight.”
Dash slumped slightly. “Oh...” She straightened back out. “Wait, why? I don’t think I caught that part.”
“Well, I needed somepony I could trust, and somepony who wouldn’t be tempted to steal those magazines to get rid of them someplace nopony would see them.” AJ explained.
Dash nodded. “Alright, I can do that. I’ll take them to a cloud on the far edge of Equestria, where no- wait, I won’t be tempted? What’s that supposed to mean?”
An awkward silence floated between them.
Suddenly and inexplicably, the whole barn caught on fire.
I am ecstatic. I am very partial to the removal of teeth. I have always believed to remove the teeth and and to remove the nails of a creature is to completely rid it of all of its willpower. Do the small creatures truly have 'nails,' though? This is a thought I do not wish to ponder farther.
I float towards him, as he laughed at his writing, pounding his fist against the table.
"Oh, SHIT, man!" he coughed, ash and tobacco spraying into the air. "This is just too great. Freud would have a field day with this piece of work." He went back to laughing, and pounded his fist against the typewriter, his fist perfectly spelling out the word 'ARSENIC.'
I gently run my tendrils against the keys, gently avoiding his fist. He looked away from himself, embarrassed.
"Oh my god... would y-you shut up?" His face grew hot and red, partially out of anger, partially from being flustered. I sink my strings between the keys of the typewriter and start sopping up any trace of pain I can find.
"No, no, let me." He put his cigarette down and placed his hand on his chin. "Eet seems to me, zat you intendet for zees story to be a cute and harmless vone, but, ven the possibility of possibility of your stupeed leetle pet-play fetish caim to light, vell, you vouldn't vant your personal life to verk its vay your vriting, no? So, instead of moving away from the possibility of it, you just decide 'Let's fucking make this as disturbing as possible, so no one thinks for a second I was attracted to the idea of what was going on in this scene.'"
I reach into the story and feel around the bloody, open gums of the pink creature. I slide my strings into its nerve endings and wait for the sweet sensation of its pain to glide up into my core and replenish me.
"Whatever! At least I-I tried to make mine have some sort of romance in it, instead of awkward, bumbling conversation that skirts around the slightest possibility of a romantic attraction! At least I-I'm not afraid to analyze the relationships between two characters and see how the two of them might come to the conclusion that they want to open themselves up to the vulnerability of love. Y-you just make romance stories about characters too afraid to admit their feelings, or self-destructive relationships, or people too selfish to realize they might like someone other than themselves, it's actually a little disgusting, y-you know that? Any random person could write a story about the most random of strangers falling in love, and yet y-you seem to not be able to grasp the simplest concept of what may possibly the oldest, most classic of all literary genres. Y-you should be ashamed to call y-yourself a writer."
I feel nothing. There is no physical anguish in this creature. Out of anger, I grab it by the base of its skull and throw it against the bars of its cage. The creature, the cage, and everything else in the story collapse and disintegrate into nothing more than letters and punctuation marks.
He rolled his eyes at himself and took a quick of his cigarette. "People fall into ruts. At least my rut is a creative one. Sparks writes the same story about two white people falling in love and he sells millions."
The sedative. It prevented the creature from feeling pain. That fucking brat.
"Yeah, but that's because he always rewards his readers with actual romance."
I quickly search the scattered text for the line about the watering eyes. Tears from hurt feelings can usually only satiate me when I'm slightly peckish, but at this point, I will take anything I can get.
"Listen, you don't walk into love. You fall in love. It's a risk, always. There's no safety in love. Sometimes, you fall into it. Sometimes you fall on your face. What's one story about missing your chance forever next to the unrealistic thousands of stories about people who get it?"
I wrap my tendrils around a single comma and prod into it. It's almost completely dry. I suck up the smallest amount of betrayal. My strings shake from the nutrients, but it does nothing but make me more ravenous.
"Sure, a few stories about missed chances is fine. But y-you can't tell me that all attempts at love are fruitless!"
I tear my strings out from the typewriter and slam them against the keys, perfectly spelling out the word 'CYANIDE.'
"Whose life have you been living?"
He sighed. There really was no reasoning with himself, and he knew it. I begin to twitch from hunger.
He rolled the paper to a new line. "I'll write the next chapter."
"Y-you sure?"
He nodded. "We only have two members of the Main Six left, right? Purple and White?"
"Oh, um, by the way, there is something y-you should know."
"Huh?"
"Y-you were laughing for a really long time."
"How long?"
"There's been a new season of the show, a movie, and another season."
"...well shit."
"Twilight's got wings now."
"Well, that is just fucking stupid."
He started clacking away at the keys.
Author's Note
I'll write the actual story part of this later.
