The pointer of my mouse hovers over the checkbox of each name. It pauses the longest on Twilight and Rarity. I suck in a deep breath of air as my eyes dart back and forth between the two names. I exhale as I hear the click of the mouse once I press down. Rarity, I choose Rarity. I can’t exactly describe why I finally chose her. It just feels right, I guess. I feel like we’ll get along the best.

I’m sort of fashion forward in a way. It’s kind of fun to follow the new trends right when they start. I’m definitely not anything special, but hey, I guess I’ve got some style...as long as the clothes are cheap. I’m sure we’re going to have lots of fun together. I, of course, don’t have as much money as she’d probably enjoy, and am a bit frugal, but it’ll be nice to splurge a little for her. Besides that, she’s just, beautiful, and fun in that fancy, high class, but live a little when you can sort of way…I, I don’t know…I just, I’m not good at describing this; but I already chose her, and I’m sticking with it.

I’m finally beginning to calm down as I continuously assure myself of the decision, but my heart suddenly begins to race again as I click next and am asked to enter my card number. Type it in, and there goes two thousand dollars practically automatically…unless there’s something wrong with the card, that is.

As I go about the quick but annoying process of looking back and forth from my card to the numbers on my keyboard as I type it in, I realize something very, very odd. It asks for my name on the card, but that’s it. No billing address, no shipping address, nothing. Shit! It’s a scam…no way in hell I’m falling for it.

I retreat from the keyboard as if it suddenly begins to burn to the touch. I then groan angrily and rub a hand through my hair, slightly greasy from the sweat of a long day at work. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I yell aloud, my heart feeling just as crushed as my hopes.

I begin to stand, ready to give up and go to bed for the night, too careless to turn off my computer or even close out of the window. Then it suddenly hits me. “We know where you live! WE KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!” I say gleefully, a new sense of excitement overtaking me. It might be bullshit, false hope; but I’m totally believing it.

They come from the depths of 4chan for fuck’s sake! Of course they know how to trace IP addresses, and they’re totally tracing mine right now. “They know where I fucking live!” That’s honestly kind of scary to think about in a way, but it’s making me really happy right now…well, if they actually are tracing my IP.

I back out of shit like this way too easily. If just a singular thing seems slightly off, then I don’t go for it. It’s made me miss out a lot in the past, and I’m not sure I want to miss out again. I take a deep breath and shake my head before I slam my finger down on the enter key triumphantly.

The pride only lasts a few a few seconds, then turns to the shock of, what the hell did I just do? Then to the accepting fact of, it’s over, there’s no reversing the payment now…well, there probably is, but…there’s no reversing the payment now. It’s done. Bullshit or real, I just spent two thousand dollars on a pony, a freaking pony, baby!

My mind explodes with the possibilities of what will happen if it is, in fact, real as I power my pc down and snatch up my debit card. It continues to race as I brush my teeth, take off my pants, and crash face first into the cushy goodness of my bed. The comforter smells fresh and clean…well, ehh, not really. I guess I was just hoping it would. Definitely doesn’t smell the best, not bad, but close. I need to wash it, and the sheets…and that pile of clothes lying on the floor.

I roll over onto my back to avoid the strong smell of, well, of me. I make it sound bad, it’s not really that bad. I don’t smell like shit or anything. Just, me…people have certain smells. You know what I mean…

After turning on my alarm for work the next morning and flicking off the lamp beside me, I attempt to fall asleep, and fail miserably. My mind is still racing with thoughts of my own little Rarity. It feels so unreal to think that I will have her in, shit, they didn’t tell me how long it’d be…that’s….sort of, really, stupid. Oh well, still, if this isn’t all a big scam which it’s really starting to feel like, it’s gonna be weird to actually meet a cartoon pony that I’ve gotten to know from afar, in person.

Finally, after what seems like hours of waiting, I drift off into a very light, and dream filled sleep.

***

In the middle of doing my early morning routine of exercises…what? I like to stay in shape. I mean, I’m definitely not the fittest person in the world, or in the best shape, but I at least like to maintain it a little. Anyways, my phone vibrated. Pausing my music, and lifting it to my face, I easily type in the passcode on its smooth, but slightly smudged screen. I got an email from…UNKNOWN SENDER, how nice.

I click the app and open up the email. Centered at its top before a small letter is the acronym MLACC. I remember it from last night. My Little Artificial Companion Company. The ones who are selling ponies.

MLACC

Dear Customer,

A representative of our team will arrive at your home shortly after you return from your job. He will be speaking with you to confirm that you will indeed provide your pony with a good home, and treat her with proper care. This is only a standard procedure, but a very important step to receiving your pony. He or she will take up only a short amount of your time (like you have anything better to do. You’re already desperate enough to buy yourself a pony). Do not make other plans, or if you already have, cancel them. Without completing this step, you will not receive your pony, and we have no time to reschedule a visit.

ERROR: The address from which this email was sent cannot be retrieved at this time. Unable to respond

Damn, that was quick. How the hell do you get a “representative” to my location in less than a day since I ordered? Well, at least I know it’s the real deal…or maybe they’re gonna drug me or hypnotize me to believe I have a pony or some shit. It is pretty odd that they’re actually sending someone. Either they really do care for these ponies, or they have some major resources to spare.

…Wait…what the fuck, how do they know when I get off work, and the amount of time it takes for me to get home; or is it just an assumption? This is just getting weirder and weirder. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to purchase something from a site I found linked on 4chan…or maybe it’s the best decision of my entire life. Better to stay hopeful. Besides, I’ve got the entire day until I have to worry about this “representative” guy and whatever he needs to know. I shrug off the thought, turn my music back on and go back to my morning as if nothing ever happened…even though the thought still lingers in my mind.

Author's Note

No voting in this chapter? Aww, so sad :( Don't worry, I shall release the next chapter tomorrow, and yes it has voting.