In a quiet suburban house in a quiet suburban street there was a sofa. It was in most respects a fairly average sofa. It wasn’t bright or boldly coloured, it wasn’t an old and worn antique or new and “trendy”. It was a family sofa; it had seen parties, tantrums, spilt drinks, and sleeping guests; and had, perhaps most importantly, served as a refuge all those times the floor was “made of lava”. The sofa was only in the passable condition it was because of a skilled and dedicated team of dry cleaners. At the end of the day it was a perfectly functional piece of furniture and like most living room furniture it pointed at a TV.
The room in which it sat was, like the sofa, a family room; or at least had been so recently. (And decidedly not in the way that family rooms are pictured by those who have never had to look after children.) It had seen far more shouting matches than family games nights, and not just because the latter had usually lead to the former. The furniture was mismatched and worn, and the paint was touched up, but, much like the sofa a comfortable room; well lit, airy, and satisfyingly cool in the late summer evening. The room was decorated with the odd collection of holiday souvenirs and knick knacks that families acquire over the years, as well as the bland and impersonal paintings of rural landscapes, cute animals and flowers that houses seem to pick up on their own accord.
This story, you may not be surprised to find out, is not about the sofa. The story is, in fact, about the two people on the sofa…
…and the guy in the bathroom… in retrospect starting with the sofa was a tad misleading (though to be fair it was a pretty nice sofa, when it was new).
A quiet night in, not everyone’s first choice, but a few friends, more than a few beers and a lousy movie made for a good night as far as Michael was concerned, and importantly, as far as Erica and Chris were concerned it made for a cheap night.
The sight that greeted Michael as he walked into the living room was a depressingly familiar one, his two friends curled up on the sofa on his laptop trying not to laugh. It was at this point that, with a sigh, Michael started to regret agreeing to host their little gathering.
“Really? You two are messing with my Facebook again?”
“Nope, not this time.” Chris’ small smile left Michael far less reassured than he should have been. It was, after fifteen years, a smile that he recognised, one that told him that whatever his friends had done it would mean more than deleting a few “Hilarious” comments on Facebook.
“Yeah, we’d never do something like that.” The saccharine tone of Erica’s voice jarred with the mischievous edge to the broad and unabashedly goofy grin that spread across her face.
“You do it every time I turn my back on you.”
“And yet you still leave your stuff with us,” She turned to Chris with a laugh, “I reckon he loves it really.”
“I really don’t…” though even Michael would have to admit that his reply sounded pretty half hearted. “If you haven’t gotten on my Facebook… again… what have you done to my laptop?”
“It’s almost as if you don’t trust us.” Chris’s subtle smile, no, his smirk Michael decided was replaced by a pout.
“Do you not like us anymore Mikey?” Erica added with a considerably more convincing pout.
“I like you two just fine. But I’d have to be an idiot to trust you.”
The two on the sofa looked to each other and replied in perfect unison “Then why don’t you trust us!”
This was followed by a couple seconds of mournful silence for what was undoubtedly the death of comedy, which only ended when Michael’s exasperated groan finally entered the range of human hearing.
Having recovered from what was at least a moderately traumatic experience; Michael tried to figure out the best way to avoid being the target of their jokes. But first there was one obvious question. “Can I at least see what you’ve done with my stuff?” Michael reasoned it never hurt to ask… although in his experience when it came to his friends it rarely helped either.
And, as far as Erica was concerned, one equally obvious answer. “Nope.”
Having seen it coming didn’t make her chirpy reply any less irritating. “Have I ever told you how funny you two are?”
The sarcasm dripping of his words had no visible impact on Erica, it never did. “All the time. It’s why we’re bestest friends.” Erica stuck her tongue out and laughed to herself.
“We actually haven’t done anything; we just needed to look up something.” Chris’ ability to so completely fail to act innocent was something that Michael quite enjoyed sitting back and watching. At least he did when it wasn’t directed towards him.
“I can never leave you two alone can I? It’s like being friends with a pair of five year olds…” Erica’s snort of laughter caused Michael to trail off. He knew his friends and even they weren’t usually this amused by their own antics.
“Calling us kids? Pretty ironic Mikey.” Erica flipped the laptop round, and Michael felt the temperature in the room drop.
The fact that the image on the screen was approximately 80% teeth had nothing to do with the fear Michael felt. In fact it was what was around the teeth that was causing Michael so much concern, namely the face of a vibrantly pink pony.
This was bad. Michael’s mind raced for a way to explain that image away. The only explanation he could think of was that it was on there for a kid, but as he was the youngest amongst his family and his friends knew it. That explanation only raised more questions, the sort of questions that would probably be best answered in the presence of a lawyer. In the end his silence said all that it needed to.
Chris shifted in his chair and reached for his beer, “You’re actually a Brony aren’t you?”
He winced at the word, partly due to the fact it was as far as Michael was concerned, an affront to the English language. Mainly however it was due to what it represented, or rather what it might represent to his friends. “Well…”
“Wait, wait. This is a ‘thing’?” The smile had gone from Erica’s face and was replaced by a look of genuine confusion. “There are enough fans of My Little Pony for them to need a name for themselves?” Michael frowned from the interruption.
“Well, Yeah there are a…” Michael was once again cut off, this time by Erica all but collapsing at the apparent hilarity of the idea. Michael avoiding his friends eyes looked to the floor and quickly finished his drink, and the next cracked open the next one. When he risked a glance to Chris he saw him once again leaning back enjoying his drink at a more relaxed pace.
With the return of his smirk Chris shook Erica out of her ‘moment’. “Hey stop that, Erica. It’s difficult enough coming out of the closet like this, without you laughing at him.”
“Hey I’m n…”
Erica almost leapt from her seat, blurting out “Wait, This means I finally have a gay best friend I can take shoe shopping!”
The momentary surprised silence in the room finally gave Michael the opportunity to speak, an opportunity he somewhat wasted on the question “Don’t you already have gay friends?”
“Nope... At least not as gay as this.” Erica pointed to the laptop with a laugh.
“Oh come on Erica, that’s hardly fair,” Chris faced Michael with his ‘reassuring’ smile “I mean it’s not like all gay people are like that.” To be fair to Chris this was at least a moderately progressive observation and one that had the advantage of being entirely true.
On the other hand to be fair to Michael it was entirely understandable that he didn’t feel like being all that fair to his friends at that moment.
“You’re right Chris.” Erica turned to her other friend. “Perhaps I should get you something to show how sorry I am? You people love Sex in the City right? I have the box set in the attic.”
“Firstly you know I’m not gay,” Michael forced a grin that he didn’t feel, and added with a wink “secondly I’ve already got the box set.” He felt his attempt at a joke flop with an almost audible thud, leaving an awkward silence as Michael took another deep pull from his beer.
Chris was the first to speak up “Awww don’t worry about it buddy, we don’t care. We’ll accept you no matter what.” This was true, and Michael knew it and it one of the things that Michael appreciated about his friends, even at times like this.
“Oh great, it is so nice to have friends that you can count on.” Michael opened the next beer with a sigh.
Chris leaned forward in his seat and grinned “How come you only sound that sarcastic when we’re picking on you?”
“Oh he sounds like that all the time, it’s just no one listens.” Erica said with a dismissive wave. Michael again reached for his beer.
Chris pointed to the laptop screen, “So who is this cheerful little fella?”
Confused by the quick change of subject Michael answered without thinking and with altogether regrettable honesty. “She’s Pinkie Pie.” His friends fell over themselves laughing. Again. The image before them of an adult, able to vote, able to drive and able to drink and able to talk about ponies with a straight face was apparently too much for them. From what Michael could make out it was clear that they both had pressing questions, it was also clear that given their current state that those questions would have to wait. Michael took a long pull on his drink and waited for his friends.
At least it wasn’t Twilight Sparkle.
Having once again recovered from the ‘hilarity’ that their newly outed Brony friend provided Erica and Chris returned to the issue at hand. “So, Pinkie Pie…” He paused briefly to let Erica snicker again, “… what’s she like?”
Michael may have had bad habit of opening his mouth out before thinking, but this was enough to raise flags even for him. “Why do you even want to know?”
Chris mugged horribly, trying his best to look hurt. Only succeeding in being vaguely painful to watch. “What? Is it wrong for us to want to learn about our friends interests?”
Michael drained he last of his drink in an effort to relax, and tried to keep the defensive tone out of his voice. “No, absolutely nothing wrong with it. But I’d just like to point out you’ve never been bothered before.”
Erica leaned over and rubbed his arm. “Awwww, Don’t be like that Mikey,” Smiling reassuringly, “we’re genuinely interested.”
“Oh, if you’re genuinely interested in ponies.” Michael’s voice once again dripped with sarcasm.
Erica flashed Michael a toothy grin, once again choosing to miss the sarcasm. “Great, I knew you’d come around. So, what are the other ponies called?”
Michael folded his arms, “There’s no way I’m going to sit here and give you more reasons to make fun of me.”
Erica gave Michael her best puppy eyes, Chris taking his cue from Erica joined in with his pleading eyes and quivering lower lip. Whilst Michael hardly needed a heart of stone to overcome his friends’ attempts at ‘cute’ it was clear that they were not going to drop the issue. And Michael reasoned, at least he could try to put a positive spin on it, make it sound ‘cool’.
“Like I said,” Michael pointed to the Screen, “she’s Pinkie Pie. She’s part of a group of friends who together are able to use a set of ancient magical artifacts, which allow them to protect the kingdom from ancient evils. They learn to rely upon each other, in order to overcome their weaknesses and grow as characters. It’s got excitement, drama, action…” Michael watched his friends’ closely as he continued to paint a picture of the coolest show he could. He continued for some time, and as he continued he became more confident and relaxed going into greater detail. His friends looked sceptical, but they quietly sat and listened. They were interested. “…Canterlot where they…”
“Hold on. ‘Canterlot’?” Chris smirked and arched his eyebrow quizzically. “Is that a pony pun?” The question hung in the air robbing Michael of the momentum that he’d built. “Oh please tell me that there are more where that came from.”
Michael sighed, “Well… yeah, there are quite a few puns.” So much for making the show sound dignified.
“There are pony puns? Like what? Ooh, ooh. Is there a Neigh Orleans? Manechester? Fillydelphia?” Erica took a fair amount of glee in whipping the carpet out from underneath Michael and his attempts to inject a bit of maturity into My Little Pony.
“Wow you’re good at this, three great pony puns on the trot.” Chris grinned.
Michael was able to tell when he was beat. With a sigh he reflected that it probably came with experience. Slumping down into his chair and taking a long pull on his drink he decided to follow his old music teacher’s advice and ‘Just give up already’.
Ignoring his friend’s despair Chris continued, “I’m starting to wonder why this show attracts so many neigh-sayers.”
Erica looked to her partner beaming with pride, “Man, we are having unbridled success coming up with puns.”
Michael had never been a massive fan of puns, and the levity of his friends was not helping his sinking spirits. “I wish you’d just gone through my porn instead.”
“Oh, we did. This is just funnier.” Erica stretched, abandoning the puns. “Still at least we didn't find your pony porn.”
“Hey! I don’t clop!” Michael jumped upright in his seat. He then realised what he’d just said, or more importantly, how he’d just said it.
“You lot have a term for pony porn?!”
The silence hung between the three friends, as they sat there they reflected on just how quickly this evening had gotten very weird. Opinion in the room was divided on whether or not the direction this evening had taken was a positive one.
Erica was predictably the first to speak up, or more accuracy to collapse into a fit of laughter, curling up on her half of the sofa, reveling in her own little joke. A joke that left her completely powerless to share it with the world, leaving her friends able to do nothing but to wait patiently, or in Chris’s case able to do nothing but wait impatiently. Eventually Erica regained her composure enough for her to share the joke that had such an effect on her.
She smiled broadly, “My Little Porny.”
Both Chris and Michael had known Erica long enough to be unsurprised by either the lame pun or her ‘extreme’ reaction to her own joke. Michael groaned loudly, attracting the attention of Chris who wore a wry smile. “Oh is her pun robbing the noble art of ‘clopping’ of its dignity?”
Michael looked to his laptop, still displaying the grinning image of Pinkie that had started all this. He’d like to claim later that it was this image that inspired him to do what he did next; in all honesty it was probably the fact that he’d been all but downing beers since this ordeal had started. But you should never let the facts get in the way of an inspiring story.
“You know what?” Michael sat up strait and “I get it. I get why this is all so funny. It’s My Little Pony, a cartoon designed to sell little girls tiny plastic horses that sit around having tea parties and playing dress up.” He sighed and paused a second to reflect and looked at the empty bottle in his hand. “And yeah it was stupid of me to try to pretend that it was mature and cool. You would have had to have been idiots not to see I was full of it. I must have looked pretty stupid trying to justify why I like this silly, girly show. But you know, I shouldn’t have to justify it, the show is silly, cute and genuinely funny and I thought you two, my two best friends, of all people would give me a break.” He slouched back in his chair. “And you know what, at the end of the day it’s just a TV show.”
His friends turned to each other, and wordlessly reflected on their behaviour throughout the evening… and grinned. “Wow. You’re right, we were wrong to make fun of you.” Chris once again tried unsuccessfully to pull off the ‘puppy dog eyes’, “We were bad friends.”
“Yay! I don’t know about you Chris, but I certainly feel better about myself.” Erica hugged herself with an exaggerated expression of relief on her face.
“Well it seems that friendship IS magic!” with this both Chris and Erica burst into laughter. “Come on guys, how about a group hug?”
Michael scowled, “All right, all right, can we just watch the Fucking movie already?”
Michael’s friends turned to each other again, this time with genuine concern. They could occasionally be mean, harsh or even outright unkind to each other; but they were friends first and foremost and they recognised when their friend was unhappy and the recognised when they had crossed the line.
“Ok, firstly you know we were just messing around. Like you said it’s just a TV show, and what sort of friends would we be if we thought any less of you for that, as we said we genuinely don’t care about this sort of thing. It doesn't change who you are, and you are our friend.” Chris sounded convicted. “Secondly, are you kidding me?” His voice had an amused edge, “After all that you have put both us through over way less than this, you’re going to get offended now? Give me a break.”
Being called a hypocrite is never a pleasant experience, especially when it was coming from a friend, and as in this case, as Michael had to concede, especially when they had a point.
Chris scratched his chin and frowned, “Do you remember how long it was till you and Erica decided the fact I enjoyed watching Star Trek was no longer hilarious? I think it was three months all in all.” Waving his hand expansively he continued, “Asking me to translate things into Klingon and telling me to ‘live long and prosper’… and if I hear that joke about the final frontier again I’m going to scream.” A reassuring smile spread across Chris’ face. “But it was all in good fun, and we all got some laughs out of it.”
“Well that is great and all, but what about me?” Erica jabbed a thumb at herself, “You two, hell everyone we went to school with, still goes on and on about that accident in our last year of chemistry.”
The two men both shared a moment of utter bewilderment before Chris spoke up. “Accident? You made poison gas in class! Half the school had to be evacuated.”
Erica stamped her foot and crossed her arms, which is far less impressive when seated. “It wasn’t my fault.”
Chris “You poured vodka into all of our test tubes!” He caught himself and took a deep breath and turned away from Erica before continuing. “You know what? Whatever, it doesn’t matter. My point still stands; we would never have become friends if we were so thin skinned.”
Michael scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “We are real jerks… aren’t we?”
“Yep.” Erica said with a cheerful nod.
Michael shrugged “Well on that rather depressing note shall we get on with the movie now?”
Chris leaned forward grabbed the remote of the table. “Oh no. you’re not getting out of this that easily. There’s no way after all of that we are letting you off showing us at least the first episode.”
Michael sat back and excepted the inevitable, with just the hint of a smile. “Most people don’t rate the first episode that highly.”
“Really? Tell me, what episode of My Little Pony is your Personal favourite?” Erica raised her eyebrow.
“You know what? The first episode’s fine.”
