The Therapist

It was a glorious day here in Ponyville. The birds chirped as the flew through the sky and Celestia's beautiful sun shone down upon the ponies of Ponyville as they began their day. It was like Everypony in Equestria was having a great day. Well, everypony except you.

On a street called spooner street a tall building lies inside the heart of Philadelphia. Cars rode by the building people argue just in everyday here on earth. You worked inside that tall building as a therapist, helping people workout their personal problems.

You take a sip of out of a cup of coffee, which was filled with sugar and cream. You savor the sweet taste that it brought to your dry tongue. You reach an arm to your lips and wipe the wetness off your lips. During all of this your eyes remain locked on your patience. He tapped his shoe against the floor, impatiently waiting for you to listen to his problems.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the awkward silence. “So, Matthews. Please tell me what's been happening at home. Is there anything specifically you wish to talk about?”

Matthew groaned, annoyance clear in his voice. “It's not going good, Doc. It's like everything I do is wrong! Anything I do with her is wrong!”

You put one leg over the other and straightened yourself in the chair you were sitting in. You folded your hands together, interlocking your fingers. You inhale for a couple of seconds, then exhale, trying to remain calm and not burst out in a fit of rage.

Finally, you speak, “Have you tried any of the methods I have taught you? Have any of them worked at all?”

Matthew tapped his chain with one of his hands, his eyes roaming around  the ceiling.

He responded, rage filled his eyes as you looked into them. “Yes… yes I did. But do you know what, Doc? No matter what I say... she still doesn't give a shit! Nobody does! I've tried everything and it always fails!”

You picked up the cup of coffee bring it to your muzzle, taking one last sip.

You raise an eyebrow. “And why is that, Matthew?”

Matthew slapped his knee and jumped up and out his chair. He lands dead in your face; the alcoholic smell from breath flowing into your nostril.

He shouts, “You tell me! Aren't you the professorial here? Isn’t that why I came to you, or am I paying for some stupid wannabe Therapist!”

You place a hand on his chest and push him back into his chair. You wipe his spit off of your face with a sleeve. “Matthew, I think our session is over, don't you think?” you say politely.

Matthew waved a hand, flagging you off as got up from his chair and walked away. He bumped into a few things; making a lamp fall to the floor, and some photos you kept on your desk. Finally, he made it to the door.

He opened it and turned back to you. “See ya tomorrow, Doc. And next time give me some actually helpful tips!” he shouted before slamming the door shut.

As you stare at the door your hands shook with anger. Soon your eyes start to twitch as your mouth starts to curve into a deep frown. Finally you collapse onto your knees, raise your arms up, and scream at the top of your lungs, “I HATE MY ANNOYING ASS JOB AND THE PATIENTS THAT COME IN HERE!”

“Is everything alright up there?” asked the woman from the speaker box, who were actually sitting behind a desk  and writing up papers. It was your new assistant that you hired just last week, because the old one went crazy.

You get up off your knees before walking to the speaker box and pressed the button to speak to her. “I'm fine, are there any new patients here to see me?”

No response came from the speaker.

You pressed the button again. “Mrs, price, are there any-"

“Greetings, Human.”

You stare at the box confusion. You soon shook it off, knowing it was probably just a prank that your assistant like to pulled on you now and then.

You reply, “Alright, haha very funny, Mrs. Price. Now whens the next-"

“Who's this 'Mrs. Price'?” the voice interrupts.

You face palm. “Alright, enough! Funny business is over! I'm tired of this stupid game! Now tell me, whens the next patient!”

The box remained silent. You waved it off and tug into your pocket, bringing out a small, round bottle full of Scott. You quickly open it.

“My apologizes. I forgot to introduce myself. I am Princess Luna; raiser of the moon and co-ruler of Equestria,” Princess Luna introduce herself.

You bring the bottle up to your lips and take one long gulp, drinking almost half the bottle. “What, Mrs. Price? You watch My-my-my what's that shit called?”

“Sir, I need to tell you that-"

“MY LITTLE DRUNKY!” you suddenly shout, unable to control your volume. By now the effects of the alcohol had taken their tole on your body. You continue, “That's it! Funny now for a kids show thou I would have to talk to them about that.”

“Listen! Equestria is in dire need of your skills. The heroes are fully under too much pressure from their personal problems!” the mare shouts through the call box.

You lay down on the floor due to the room spinning in your vision. “If your from, whatever that place called... then how did you find me? How do you know who I am?”

The mare in the box chuckles. “I have my ways, and I'll explain that later. But right now I need to know, will you help save Equestria?”

You felt the sear pain shoot through your brain cells. You clenched your forehead, trying to stop the pain, but it still kept getting worse. You wish that you could would just pass out now and stop the pain.

You reached for the box on your desk and grab it. “Now listen, Mrs. Price. It was fun playing like this glad I hire you and all, but I'm going to fall asleep now, and then wake up with an ingrowing pain.” And with that, you fell asleep right in the middle of your office.

While you were asleep a large spark erupts in your office, revealing a midnight blue alicorn with a crescent moon for a cutie mark. She walks over to your unconscious body. “I tried it my sister's way, now it's mine turn,” Princess Luna said, putting you onto her back. As soon as she was sure that you were properly secured on her back, her horn lit up any you both were teleported out of the office.