My little Derpy: a My Little Dashie spinoff

My name is Derrick. I’m 15 years old, a bit short for my age, but I manage. I’m an average kid with an average life. I have a talent for art and creativity, but not as much that you can call me a prodigy.

You think the description is weird, wait for my last name.

It’s Doo.

That’s right.

Derrick Doo.

No I didn’t find a filly Daring Do on the side of the road. I found someoneno, somePONY even more special to me. The bluish-grey mare with a dull yellow mane and eyes set askew.

Derpy Hooves. Also known as Dinky Doo.

My little Dinky.

I was walking to the mini mart a few blocks away. It felt like five MILES. It took me so long to get there, that even the Twinkies and Butterscotch wasn’t worth it. I swear, though, that something caught my eye. A deep green box. I thaught nothing of it, thinking it was a box of party favors or something.

But something was leading me towards it. I couldn’t help it. I opened the box and immediately flinched at the huge contrast in colors. The bright colors of the box were stinging my eyes when I saw the dull blob of color that filled half the box. Inside was a shaking, filly Dinky Doo. Her eyes were not crossed yet, so I almost didn’t recognize her. The weirdest thing, though was she was no olderor cuterthan Sweetie Belle on her fifth birthday, yet, she already had her cutie mark, something not achieved usually until the age of nine or ten.

I took off my hoodie and wrapped her in it. When I got home, I had to lie to my parents about Derpy, and made up something about the mini mart running out of bags. I DID have 20 dollars on me when I went there, so maybe if I bet and give the twenty dollars back to whoever gave them to me…