OCSJ 1 - Whitewash & Lilligold.

by Monarch Dodora

Rating: everyone
Tags:
Length: 549

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-05-23 05:24:42 UTC

Chapter 1

“Okay,” I say. “You must admit it was a perfectly good idea at the time. Novel, even.”

Lilligold stares at me. Her eyes are open just a few degrees wider than is probably healthy for eyes to be. Her mouth is much the same.

“Exterminators charge so much these days. Fumigation would’ve set you back, what: five hundred bits? More?”

Pink coat, from what I can tell; silver mane, young, pretty… also very still.

“And with all these plants in here, that surely would’ve caused all kinds of problems. You’d have had to empty the place right out! That’s like a day’s work right there, maybe two. And storage, looking after them… and then who knows what kind of poisons you’d have hanging around afterwards? No, hardly ideal.”

Alive! Don’t get me wrong here. Alive and healthy. Just… still not moving.

“Really, it was worth a try just to see if it worked.”

I think I see a shiver.

“Which, you know... it didn’t.”

A twitch! Definitely a twitch.

“I, uh… you’ve probably guessed I might have lied a bit when I said I’ve done this before.”

Man, my nose itches. I don’t want to scratch it, though. I get the feeling any movement on my part would be like poking very thin ice. With a flamethrower.

“But the theory was sound! The theory was sound.”

I settle for my most disarming smile.

“It seems so obvious, right? Comics are much cheaper than five hundred bits! Have you ever tried a comic book?”

Still hasn’t moved.

“They’re so cool. Power Ponies, Bat-Pony, Ant-Mare… man, I grew up on those. You’ve gotta try a few, miss. You’re missing out.”

I hope those aren’t sirens I hear.

“... you probably shouldn’t try Ant-Mare.”

Emergency sirens, I mean. Not, like, soul-sucking singing sirens. Although I hope it’s not those either.

“But, yeah, they have this interactive mode where you get actually sucked into the comic! And you can, like, actually join in the comic adventures. It’s such great fun. I tell ya.”

It says a lot about my life that I have to make that distinction.

“So, you know… put a comic in the ants’ nest, activate the interactive mode, and… voilá! Right? Genius! Anyone would have done the same.”

Something goes glorp off the ceiling.

“I didn’t even know these comics could overload. It’s their fault, really! There ought to be a warning about that.”

Aah, damn it, those are sirens.

“Although I suppose if you’ve got, like, a million friends all trying to use the same comic book, you’re not the sort to read a warning label.”

Something goes crash off the ceiling.

“This is a beautiful shop you have.”

I think she’s starting to breathe.

“The windows were lovely.”

Breathing in.

“Well, anyway - “

There is a splortch noise, like the sound a hoof would make if it was lifted off the floor while covered in ant slime.

“I can see you’re feeling better - “

Oh yeah, she’s moving now.

“I was going to charge a hundred bits, but in light of the circumstances - “

Very fast.

“I’ll let you have fifty percent off.”

***

And that’s why I can’t make rent this month. Also why I have a hoofprint on my groin.