Shaving - The Deadliest Sport

For Greentide, it was any other day in Equestria. He woke up, got a cup of coffee or tea, checked the mail, and combated his ever-growing facial hair. With a groan, he rose from his bed, checking the time. With a yawn, he finally got up from his bed, walking to the kitchen. Setting the kettle on, he looked at his odd and unnatural reflection in the shiny object.

"Time for a shave," he grumbled, silently making his way to the bathroom. He would have to be as calm as possible.

Greentide stared at himself in the mirror, idly stroking the whiskers on his cheeks and chin. Grumbling, he began assembling his shaving supplies. While most ponies never had to shave in their life, he had to keep a beard away every other day. Lifting his straight razor to his face, he was prepared for the most nerve-wracking part of the day. Being an earth pony, shaving was stupidly hard. Some days he just went with a beard because shaving was just not something he could do.

In a way, shaving was his way to relax and calm down. It let him reflect on the past day or two, and really think about his life choices. Was it wise to say that to the new princess, Twilight Sparkle? No, it wasn't. He would make an apology to her later in the day, if he had the time to wait in the long line to meet her. The thought that he was a single hoof's twitch away from life or death was also an interesting thing to think about. He always made sure that nothing could distract him while shaving, lest he accidentally decapitate himself. Living with a hyperactive two-ton dragon provided more than enough distractions for him.

Silently, the dragon in question made her way to the bathroom. Greentide never left the door open, so she decided to be mischievous for the day. She poked her head through the door, watching Greentide stare at himself in the mirror. I didn't know he was a narcissist, she idly thought, getting as close as possible without being seen. She stared as he brought an unusual metal object to his face. Not thinking much about it, Cinder decided to speak up and spook him.

"Boo!" she cried, taking a step closer so that she was visible in the mirror. Greentide flinched, the metal object suddenly clattering to the floor, red flecks of blood splattering in every direction. Half of the blade was soaked red. Greentide's hoof shot up to his throat, all the while he made choking noises.

"Help!" he choked out, dropping to the floor, blood pouring over his hoof and onto the black and white checkered tiles.

"Very funny, cut it out," the dragon laughed, slowly becoming less and less convinced it was some kind of prank. "You know, I have been thinking - don't spill your blood on me! - but, have you ever notice pranks in general get more and more elaborate?"

She chuckled, staring at Greentide clutching his throat. Sure, it was convincing, but that was the half of a prank. Deciding to humor him, she walked away to dial 911.

The dragon and Greentide sat in the hospital, a bag full of blood hooked up to Greentide by means of an IV. He was still looking incredibly pale from when he had lost a good deal of his blood earlier in the day. He had the grumpiest look on his face. Potentially the grumpiest look in history.

"I could have died!" Greentide shouted, sitting up in the bed, IV becoming taught in the process.

"Listen, I thought it was a joke! I didn't know you were actually dying or anything!" the dragon argued, worried about the IV. Greentide was accident prone, but not suicidal.

"You thought I was joking? Why would I joke about that?!" Greentide shouted, leaning farther, the IV popping out. "Shit."

Nurse Readheart was standing next to Greentide's bed, giving the dragon wary glances. Greentide was laying down, IV back into his leg, frowning furiously. He was trying his damnest to look mad at the dragon.

"Don't make faces like that, your face will get stuck that way," the dragon giggled, sitting down on her rear.

"Good," Greentide mumbled, sipping the tasteless slushie the hospital gave him. Nurse Redheart continued giving the dragon wary glances.

"What are you lookin' at?" the dragon asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Well, Miss Cinder, we don't usually have dragons coming in to visit patients," Redheart explained.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Greentide whined, shifting in his bed uncomfortably.

"The doctor says you cannot leave this room," Redheart explained, sighing.

"So, I'm just supposed to piss myself?" he asked, not amused.

"Yes."