Alright, so because that hillbilly girl didn’t give me real directions, I winged it like nobody winged it before, and I don’t even have wings. I totally arrived after a few hours of searching without incident. But then an incident happened. I trotted up to this little cottage that was built into the hill or something and I knew that this Fluttershy chick must’ve been loaded! She’s got a million birdhouses all over the place, a bridge leading along the one path to her house, and a sick decorative pond. Man, if I knew she lived in such a radical house I would’ve burned my mom’s place to the ground years ago!

So I go up to the door and kick it right down. It’s about to be my place soon anyways, so there’s no reason not to just burst in like I own the joint, because I basically do! And man, the place smells like what I’d think a meatball factory would smell like, which is disgusting. I will have to ask Connie about what a meatball is, because it sounds like a really cool sport.

Oh man, not only is she a racist, she’s a cat lady. There’s dandruff and hair everywhere and newspaper is placed in odd places all over the floor. Then I go in the kitchen and I see that there’s about a million bags of different labeled pet food, and I know that this lady really needs a stallion. I AM A STALLION!

But then I think to myself, why the heck does she have all this pet food and yet there are no animals around? And it hits me. She’s an animal murderer. Or she’s mad poor and can’t afford food. Either way, I’ve got to work fast.

So just when I’m about to start dumping all of the food in the pond nearby, I hear some pony start talking to something outside. So I go to a window and see none other than the cutie I’ve been hunting down this entire time. The problem is she’s talking to some little white rabbit outside. Oh man, she’s going to claim another victim! But then for some reason she starts wigging out.

“What? There’s a stranger in my house? Oh no!” I hear her say.

It’s clear she’s confused. It’s not a stranger in her house, it’s me! So I grab one of the birdhouses inside and I chuck it through the window and jump outside. Then I wave my hooves around and yell “Yo, whattup, gurl!”

And then she starts acting all coy and junk by being like “Oh, it’s that mean pony from the bus.” Which is fine and all because at least she’s not screaming her head off. She then immediately starts screaming her head off. “Ah! IT’S THAT MEAN PONY FROM THE BUS! Angel, run and hide!” Then she flew away.

So by now I’m just like “Dang.” Because I’m tired of running and her flying isn’t helping. So I go decide to go back home to get some sleep and try again tomorrow. This racist, animal abusing, flying hotness is going to have to wait.

Author's Note

You can basically live in any house if you're angry enough.