Twistbuscus Adventures

by BlabideeblahMLP

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Crossover, Comedy
Length: 4508

The ponified tales of Tobuscus and Gabe Uscus.

Twister and Squall were the best of friends—if "friends" meant one was a complete idiot and the other was the only pony on the planet who seemed to have even a trace of common sense and always wanted to punch the other in the face, then yes, their friendship was strong. Sometimes, though, when that stupid friend gets both of them into sticky situations, that friendship might be broken.

Even so, their stories are damn worth telling.

*Crossover with Tobuscus Adventures, using characters borrowed (with permission) from Calm Wind. Art by Randompig212.

**Note: This story is not meant to be high-quality. It is meant to be silly, nothing more.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-07-23 02:09:58 UTC

Chapter 1: "D" Island

   It was a particularly stormy day. Two ponies sheltered themselves from the storm in one of their houses. The two ponies were both pegasi, but while one was an emerald green with a bedhead blue mane, the other was dark grey, with crimson eyes and a long, flowing, also crimson mane. Despite ponies usually walking around nude, these two both wore shirts. The green one wore a shirt that was colored about three shades lighter than his fur and had "TWISTBUSCUS" on the front in small but visible, blocky grey letters, while the grey pony wore a purplish-blue shirt that read "SQUEEBUSCUS" in the same grey letters.

   "Twistbuscus" was leaning against the arm of the sofa the two were sitting on, while "Squeebuscus" was reading a book. Twistbuscus let out a loud groan, turning over to Squeebuscus. "I'm bored!" he complained, to which Squeebuscus shushed him. Ignoring it, Twistbuscus went on. "Let's do something, Squeebuscus! What are you doing-" he glanced at the book in Squeebuscus's hooves, "-reading?"

   Squeebuscus sighed, giving Twistbuscus an annoyed, exasperated look out of the corner of his eye. "Twister, my name is Squall. Do you have to call me Squeebuscus?"

   Twister gawked at Squall like he had three heads. "Of course! What's wrong with Squeebuscus?!"

   Squall clenched the book he was holding. "Squall."

   "Yeah! Squeebuscus!"

   Squall ground his teeth together. "Squall! Squall Lionfeather!"

   Twister facehoofed. "Dude, you can't force me to call you by your full name! My brain goes too fast for that! HEY what's this?" Twister snatched a random brochure that just so happened to be lying there. Rather than read it like a normal person, he slapped it over his muzzle and just stared at nothing while the pages covered his eyes. He let out a loud gasp, then ripped the pamphlet from his face and shoved it into Squall's. "DUDE! D Island coupons—two nights for thirty bits!"

   Squall cocked his eyebrow. "D Island?"

   "Dude, that's like barely fifteen bits a night!"

   "Actually, it's exactly fifteen bits a night," Squall corrected.

   "AKSHULY IZ EGSALY FIVEEN BIS A NITE," Twister mocked. "It sounds fun."

   Squall glared daggers at Twister. "I am not going on an island vacation with you."

   Ignoring him, Twister turned to a doorway sitting on the other side of the room. "MATTEO!" he barked, "WE'RE GOING TO D ISLAND!"

   Squall tried to stop him. "Wait! WaitwaitWAIT—"

   "ORDER US SOME TICKETS!"

   "Guhhh." Squall facehoofed.

*Two hours later*

   "Yeah! WE MADE IT!" Twister let out a cry of victory as he bounced up and down on top of the sandy shore, as if the carriage flying them hadn't crashed and burned, with him and Squall being the only survivors. "We are gonna have so much fun!"

   "Yeah," Squall groaned, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Great."

   Twister spun around to see a half-dead mare lying on the ground next to him, skin half-decayed and yellow bone showing through. Immediately, something stirred in his crotch, and he knew he wanted this lady. Putting on a suave persona, he leaned himself against a tree. "Wassup, girl?" he flirted. "What'chu doin'? Takin a nap? Smooth." Twister then pulled out a small slip of paper reading 1-800-CALL-ME-MAYBE on it. "Here's my numba." Twister then let out a victory laugh, even though the mare, who was clearly a zombie, made no move to take his phone number. She had, however, gotten up off the ground and was slowly shuffling towards him.

   "Do you just walk around with your phone number pre-written on pieces of paper?" Squall snarked.

   "Eeeeeeyep."

   Squall rolled his eyes. "'Course you do."

   Meanwhile, the zombie had gotten within two feet of Twister.

   "Oh, hello!" At first, Twister was intrigued, but when he caught a whiff of the zombie's breath, he sprang back about nine feet. "WOAH! Somepony doesn't use mouthwash!" He let out three hacking, gagging coughs. "No offense!" Twister then swooned. "You're hot."

   Squall rolled his eyes, then caught sight of a welcoming sign off to the right, and upon reading it, gave an alarmed start. "Wait, Twister. This poster says Dead Island."

   "Soooo?"

   "This is Dead Island!"

   Twister paused. "Like the game where there's... zombies?"

   "Yeah!"

   Twister's breath quickened. "And everyone... dies?"

   "Yes!"

   "No wonder it was thirty bits!"

   Squall facehoofed. "RUUUUUUUUUUUN!" he screamed.

   Twister pointed at the zombie he'd been flirting with. "But hothothothotHOThothot!" he protested. Through the magic of friendship, Squall knew just what he was saying.

   "No hothothothot! Run!"

   "Okay, okay. You don't gotta yell. Jeez!" Twister then turned to flee—right as the zombie took a chunk of flesh out of his shoulder. "OOOOWWWWW!" Twister fell to the ground with the zombie on top of him.

   Squall facehoofed once more. "Now look what you've done," he sighed.

   Twister desperately held the zombie's face away from him. "THAT IS A NO-NOOOO!" Panicked, he turned to look at Squall. "Neosporin!" He pleaded. "Neosporin!"

   "I said run. Here-" Squall pulled a small disinfectant cream out of a random shirt pocket. "-take your Neospori—"

   "NO!" Twister screeched, "GET THE ZOMBIE FIRST!"

   "Yeahyeahyeahyeahyeah." Squall hurriedly decapitated the creature... by punching it in the face.

   Twister gasped as the weight fell from his chest. "Oh, jeez!" He pushed himself into a sitting position. "Aw, man!" A spurt of blood shot from the zombie bite, and he covered the wound with a hoof. "Thank you," he breathed up at Squall, finding his feet once more. "Freakin' zombies," he chuckled, "am I right?"

   Squall nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "You can't live with 'em, and they can't live—"-he smirked-"because they're dead."

   And for the first time in a long while, Squall burst out laughing, along with Twister. He didn't know why he thought such a horrible pun was so funny, but either way, he let out huge guffaws of laughter, sitting there with Twister and finally enjoying himself—until a zombified Twister pounced on top of him and bit open his neck. "Oh, no! Ah! AHH, no! No!" With his strength diminishing, Squall crumpled to the floor, pinned beneath Twister.

   Twister slapped him across the face. "Squeebuscus!" he roared through a mouthful of flesh and fur.

   Squall wouldn't go out like this. No, he wouldn't. He would find a way. With his strength dissipating and his life about to end, Squall gathered up all the power he could and let out one final cry.

   "My name is Squall!" he then screamed in agony as Twister buried his teeth into his neck.

~END

Chapter 2: Hearth's Warming Portal Gun

   It was the night before Hearth's Warming Eve. Twister and Squall sat on Twister's bright blue sofa, Squall staring blankly at his hooves while Twister wrote a letter, reading aloud while he was writing.

   "Dear Santa," Twister mumbled, "I have been a very good Buscus this year—"

   "Do you have to read that out loud while you're writing?" Squall asked. Twister just gave him a stuck-up, hoity-toity look.

   "Yes," he replied, "it helps me focus."

   "You realize you just wrote that down?"

   Twister looked down at his paper to see that it now read Dear Santa, I have been a very good Buscus this year YeS iT HeLPs Me FOCUS. "Oh." He then brought his quill pen back to his paper. "Sorry Santa. That was to Squeebuscus."

   Squall facehoofed.

   "I've been very good this year and all I want is... the gun from Portal."

   Squall arched an eyebrow. "Ooooookay."

   "Amen, Twister."

   "Don't put amen on that," Squall groaned. "Amen is for Celestia."

   "Good. Now they both know what to get me." Again, Squall facehoofed, deciding right then and there that he'd had enough Twister for one day. He got up to leave, but was stopped by Twister. "Hey Squeebuscus could you put this in the mail real quick?" he asked.

   Squall took the letter with a fake smile on his face. "Sure!" The second he got outside, he crumpled the letter up and tossed it aside, smirking.

*That night*

   Twister sat alone in his house, having never moved from the sofa, fidgeting impatatienly. "Aaaghhh! I'm bor—" He then realized that Squeebuscus wasn't there. He snatched up his phone.

   Squall was woken from his sleep by a loud buzzing noise. His phone. Groaning, he picked it up and put it up to his ear. "What?"

   "I'm boooored!"

   "Dude, go to sleep. It's Hearth's Warming Eve."

   "What time does Santa come?" Twister whined.

   "How old are you again?"

   "Let's do something!"

   "Go. To bed." Squall then dropped his phone without even hanging up and passed out.

   Twister tried protesting. "But, bu... but... but... but, bu... but—" he cut himself off when he heard a faint snore come from the other line. "Aaauuugh!" He hung up the phone, disappointed.

*Three hours later*

   A fat pony with a white beard and bright red clothes transported himself to the next house with blue and orange portals. "Ho..." he landed on the next house, "ho..." he arrived at Twister's house, "Ho!"

   Meanwhile, Twister sat in his bed, tense, eyes closed. "Sleep," he motivated himself, "You can do this. Just like we practiced, every single night." He pretended to snore, but found himself frustrated. "No, that doesn't work," he growled. "Just... pretend you're in class." His face then twisted in agony. "Aaaagh, learning! Aaahhhh!"

   Santa then fell into his toilet, somehow slamming the bathroom door shut in the process, yet still dropping his portal gun outside of the bathroom. The sound made Twister jump, and he stepped out into the living room, where he saw the gun lying in the middle of the floor. His heartrate doubled, and he grinned from ear to ear. "Oh ho-ho! I got it!" He snatched up the gun and shot a blue portal at the wall and an orange one at his feet. He fell through the orange one and landed on the other side of the room. "I LOVE HEARTH'S WARMING EVE!" he hollered.

   Santa Hooves then stepped out of the bathroom. "No, Twister!" he called out. "That's mine! It replaced my sleigh back in 2007."

   Twister nodded. "Oh. So, is mine in one of those boxes or what?" He gestured towards some random presesnts that were somehow under the tree.

   Santa Hooves grinned. "Why don't you find out?"

   Twister grabbed a green present with a red bow and ripped it to shreds. Inside was a blue box with a picture of the portal gun on it. Twister grinned. "Oh, ho ho! Ha ha ha—" He then noticed the orange blurb in the corner. "'Replica'?" He turned to Santa. "What's that mean?"

   Santa Hooves shrugged. "Well... It's not real."

   "Oh." Twister then blew a ten-second raspberry.

   Santa tried to speak over him. "I only ha—Stop that!" Twister obeyed and shut up. "I only have this one."

   Twister smirked. "Well, that's fine. I'll just take that one and you can have-" he gasped dramatically, "-you can have this one. Wo-ho-ho-hoah. It's a replica."

   Santa Nooves shook his head. "I need the real one, Buscus. I still have to go to Aussieland!"

   "Aussieland, huh?" Twister gasped, then took the gun from Santa's hooves. "I have an idea." Turning towards a random open window, he fired a blue portal at a satellite above him. The portal bounced off the glass of the satellite and in a random marketplace in the center of Aussieland. Twister then spun around and fired an orange portal at Santa's hooves. Of course, Santa fell through.

   "No, Twister!" he called. "Naughty! NAAAAAUUUUUGHTYYYYYYY...!" Twister closed the portal.

   "No need to thank me," he chuckled, "Now where was I?" He fired the two portals, one at the ground and one at the ceiling, and jumped into the one on the floor. Immediately, he began falling, falling, falling, becoming ever faster. His screams of excitement were chopped up and broken, cut off from the outside world as he fell into and came out of a portal. "WHA... AHH... AHH... WOOO... OOO... OOO..."

   Squall stepped through the front door, wearing an expression rarely seen from him—a smile. "Merry Hearth's Warming E—" he then caught sight of what was happening to Twister, and immediately deadpanned.

   "What in the fu—"

~END

Chapter 3: Crystalline Phones

   Twister's living room had just been cleaned up, thanks to Squall. Now the two sat together on the blue sofa, Twister hunched over and fidgeting while Squall was playing on a Super Nonchondo Entertainment System hooked up to a television. All was going smoothly, until Twister let out a huge, dramatic groan.

   Sighing, Squall switched off the SNES. "Let me guess," he muttered, "You're bored."

   Twister shook his head. "No, that's just how I breathe sometimes."

   Squall arched an eyebrow. "When you're bored?"

   "Yes."

   Squall sighed. He turned back to the SNES, but was stopped when Twister handed him a phone. "Hey, Squeebuscus, could you call my mom real quick?"

   Squall nearly retched. "What?! No!"

   "But it's her birthday," Twister reasoned.

   "Yes," Squall agreed, "So you should call her."

   "What if she talks about FarmVille?" Twister whined.

   "Call your mom."

   Twister sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah," he began, "Well, you know those things with phones, where you have a plan, and you get service? What are they called?"

   "Service plans?"

   "Yeah, I don't have one of those."

   "Why?"

   "They wanted to lock me into a contract."

   "So?"

   "So, I don't like signing documents."

   "Why not, Twister?" Squall sighed.

   "What if they try to sell my signature?"

   Squall immediately burst out laughing. Twister, however, took this completely seriously.

   "The more stuff I—Shh!" Twister waited until Squall finally stopped laughing at him, then continued. "The more stuff I sign, the more my signature goes down in value."

   "I don't think something can be worth less than worthless, Twister."

   "HA HA HAAAA HAH!" For quite possibly the first time in his life, Twister had become sarcastic. "Eeeeeeveryone's laughing. ANYWAY, I'm never gonna sign another term contract again!"

   "So you're just... Not gonna have a phone anymore?"

   Twister grinned. "Au contraire! There is a phone company that doesn't make you sign a term contract."

   "Where?"

   "The Crystal Empire." Twister handed Squall a flyer.

   "'No term contract'," Squall read. "Why do you get promotional mail from the Crystal Empire?"

   "I'm open-minded."

   "But you're not in the Crystal Empire."

   "Not yet." Twister grinned, the spun around. "MATTEO! ORDER US SOME—"

   "Wabububublupblublupblup!" Squall interrupted. Twister turned around to face him. "If I don't call your mom, you're gonna go to the Crystal Empire."

   "Yes."

   "You think the value of your signature would go down more than the price of two tickets to the Crystal Empire?"

   "Ostensibly."

   "That word doesn't work there."

   "MATTEO! TICKETS!"

   Squall facehoofed.

   Once on the giant flying carriage, Twister noticed Squall's grumpy face. "You don't look so happy, Squeebuscus," he observed. "Here, have some peanuts."

   Squall didn't even look at him. "I'm fine." He did not sound fine.

   Twister opened a bag of peanuts and pulled one out, popping it into his mouth. He showed the bag to Squall. "Aw, man, look at those peanuts. Mmmm." He grabbed another one. "Mmmmmmmm."

   Squall gritted his teeth. "Turn around," he murmured.

   "You suuuure you don't wanna peanut?"

   "I don't want any peanuts," Squall assured him.

   "Okay, more for me." Twister then turned around and caught the attention of a nearby flight attendant, a black Batpony with a bleach white mane and tail. "Excuse me, hothothot? Could I get some more peanuts please?" The flight attendant wordlessly handed him another bag. "Thank you." Twister laid the bag on Squall's lap. "Here you go. Just in case."

   Twister gave Squall a caring look, then flinched as Squall threw the bag at him, hitting him right in the face. "Ow."

   At last, they had arrived at the Crystal Empire.

   Twister stepped down from the carriage. "We made it!" He declared. "Wow, it's like a different planet!"

   Squall shook his head. "Nope, not at all."

   "I feel heavier. Gravity must be stronger here."

   "Yeah, or you ate thirty-seven bags of peanuts."

   "Oh yeah." Twister then spun around to actually face Squall. "Hey, can I borrow your phone?"

   "For what?"

   Twister scoffed. "Uh, to set up my new service!" He paused, then grinned. "Unless you wanna do it. Do your best me voice."

   Squall cleared his throat. "HUHUH, LOOK AT ME! I'M TWISTBUSCUS! BLUHBLUHLUHLUH! BLUHLUH!"

   Twister shook his head. "Wow, that's terrible." He then snatched Squall's phone and dialed a number. After a bit, a female voice answered.

   "Thanks for calling Armors. How can I help you?"

   Twister let out a hyperdramatic gasp. "Wait! Are you a Crystal Pony?!"

   "Yeah."

   "I can understand you!" Twister put his hoof over the phone's receiver and leaned over to Squall. "Squeebuscus!" he whispered, "I speak Crystal Pony!"

   Squall flashed a mock smile. "And Idiot!"

   Twister shushed the now smug Squall, then put the Crystal Pony back on. "Umm, yes, I'd like to set up a plan with no term contract, please?"

   "Alright. Armors has just introduced a new plan."

   "Uh-huh."

   "It's about thirty-five bits a month"

   "Yeah."

   "For unlimited Empire-wide text and talk."

   "Thirty-five Crystalian bits?"

   "Yeah."

   "Per Crystalian month?"

   "Wow," Squall muttered in the background.

   "Yyyyyyes."

   "Alright! Sign me up!"

   "Okay, it's all set up."

   "Okay, thanks! Call me sometime; it's free."

   "No thanks," the mare sighed, "I'm good."

   "Okay bye love you too!" Twister gave Squall's phone back to him and picked up his own. "Alright, it's go time!" He then made the ultimate move: called his mom.

   Twister pressed the phone up to his ear, and before long a voice came on the line. "Hello?"

   "Happy birthday, Mom!"

   Silence. Then, "Uhh, it's not my birthday."

   "Oh, ok. I must be early. I'm on Empire time, so..."

   "Same time zones!" Squall supplied.

   "When is your birthday again, exactly?"

   "In four months."

   Twister flinched. "Oooooh! In four mooooonths!... So what're you doing?"

   "Playing FarmVille."

   "AHH!" Twister threw the phone as hard as he could.

   Squall came up to him. "It's not her birthday," he observed.

   Twister shook his head. "Nope."

   "And we're in the Crystal Empire."

   Twister chuckled. "Yeah." He started laughing, and eventually Squall let out a couple of laughs. The two began laughing harder and harder and harder, and just when it seemed the two might collapse into tears, Squall stopped laughing and lunged for Twister's throat. Twister let out a strangled plea for mercy as Squall tried strangling him, but his only "mercy" was for Squall to pin him to the ground. "Come here you little—!"

    "Ga—! K—! E—! Squ—! Squeebuscus! Squeebuscus! GERK!"

~END

Chapter 4: Hot Coffee

   Squall's house had been destroyed because... He didn't know why. All he knew was then he had to spend at least two months with Twister, something he did not look forward to.

   On the first day, Squall seated himself on the blue sofa, grabbed a magazine and started flipping through it. Twister was already there, hunched over and frustratedly tapping the ground. "Aaaaagh!" he groaned. Squall sighed.

   "Eeeeaaagh-guhhhhhhhh!"

   Squall flipped a page.

    "GUUUUUUHHHH!"

   Squall lowered his book, annoyed. "Why do you keep doing that?"

   Twister tapped his chin in mock thought. "Hm, I dunno. Maybe 'cause I keep being bored!"

   "Then go do something!"

   "Oh, good idea! Let's get some coffee!"

   "Yeah, that's what you need. Caffeine."

   "Oh, man Iwasjustotallythinkingthesamethingrightnow!" Twister put his face up to Squall's. "We'relikeinthesamewavelength!"

   Squall showed him away. "How about you get some coffee, and I'll stay here?"

   "I don't wanna go by myself!" Twister whined. "What if get recognized?"

   Squall gave him an incredulous stare. "You love getting recognized!"

   "Not always! Remember that one time?"

   A small, young griffin was walking down the street and saw Twister. He gasped in amazement. "Hey, is that you, Twistbuscus?" he squeaked.

   Twister saw him and grinned. "It sure is!"

   The griffin smiled. "Could you sign my shirt?"

  Twister nodded. "Yep! Just come on over to this side of the street."

   "Okay! I'll be right there!" The griffin stepped out onto the street.

   "Make sure to look both ways."

   "Nope!" The griffin then got crushed in between two speeding carriages and the entire city burst into flames.

   "OH CELESTIA!" Twister screamed, then fell to his knees, "WHAT HAVE I DONE?!"

   Squall rolled his eyes. "Dude, that never happened."

   "Yeah! Not yet." Twister put a hoof up to his chin in thought. "I think I'm gonna go Incognito-Buscus this time, just in case."

   Squall raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

   "Oh, it's when I wear a Twistbuscus shirt inside-out."

   "Aaand and what's the point of that?"

   "Uh, so it doesn't say Twistbuscus. A-duh."

   "Yeah, so just where a plain shirt that doesn't say Twistbuscus!"

   Twister started laughing. "A plain shirt?!" He beat the side of the sofa. "HA HA HA!"

   Squall sighed. "You don't own one, do you?"

   Twister chuckled. "No!" He then grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. "O-Kay! Oh, wait, no that doesn't—ergh, agh, iegh!" The next thing either of the two pegasi knew, Twister had the shirt wrapped around his head. "Help me!"

   Squall went back to his book. "No."

   Twister shoved his head through one of the sleeves. "Help me!"

   "Uh-uh."

   "Help me!" This time, Twister had both of his forelegs through the neck of the shirt, a hind leg sticking out of the left sleeve, and his head sticking out of the right.

   "Nope."

   "Ah, o-okay! O... Ah... Okay..." Finally, Twister had his short on inside-out. "There we gooooo." He flashed Squall a smug grin. "Who do I look like now?"

   "An idiot."

   "HA! I told you!"

   Squall facehoofed.

*At the coffee shop*

   A small black Batpony with a pure white tail and mane looked over at the line of customers. Twister and Squall were next. "Can I help the next person in line?"

   Twister stepped up. "Uuh, yes I'd like to order..." He then saw the menu, and scrunched his brow, frowning deeply as he looked at the menu. "Uhhhhhh..." He pointed at something on the board, struggling to read it, "Cccccccccccccoooooooooooooooo..." Squall facehoofed.

   The Batpony raised her eyebrow. "Coffee?"

   "...ffffeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

   "Hot or iced?"

   "Iced—" Twister began, then caught sight of the Batpony in front of him. She was incredibly well-defined, with short, pointed fangs and a long, swishing tail. Very shapely and very cute. He began to stutter. "Hothothothot."

   "Hot?"

   Twister blushed. "Hot hooot hot."

   "Hot."

   Twister's eyes morphed into pink hearts. "Hothothothot."

   "He wants it iced," Squall supplied, somewhat embarrassed.

   The Batpony sighed. "What's the name for the cup?"

   Twister gave a start. "You don't know who I am?" he inquired, pointing at himself.

   The Batpony shook her head. "No."

   Twister flashed a grin at Squall. "See? It worked!" he whispered, "Incognito-Busucs!"

   "You're an idiot," Squall whispered back.

   Twister spin around to face the Batpony. "I'm sorry about that. My name's Twistbuaaaaaahhhhh..." Twister glanced away, then smiled. "Twister. Just plain Twister."

   The Batpony sighed again. "Twister. Got it." She scribbled the name down on the cup.

   "And spelled T as in Twister, and then... The rest of the letters also." Squall facehoofed. "And this is my friend Squeebuscus!" Squall looked up, alarmed.

   "Squeebuscus," the Batpony repeated, rolling her eyes.

   Squall blushed. "My name's actually Squall."

   Twister grabbed Squall's shirt. "His shirt says 'Squeebuscus'!"

   "And yours is inside-out," the Batpony observed.

   "I'm incognito."

   "Can you just pay, please?" The Batpony was getting impatient at this point.

   "Okay. Here's my credit card." Twister handed her a slip of paper. The Batpony looked at it for two seconds, then gave Twister a disgusted look.

   "Is this your phone number?" she asked, holding out the slip. On it was 1-800-CALL-ME-MAYBE in plain black writing.

   Twister grinned. "Whoops. You can just keep that. Here's my credit card!"

   That Batpony barely glanced at it. "This is just your phone number again."

   "Touché." Twister nudged Squall. "Looks like you're payin' for this round, Squeebuscus. Hope you got—"

   "My name..." Squall interrupted him, and he jerked back. Squall didn't say anything more, just stood there. The Batpony glanced around awkwardly. Twister kept leaning farther and farther back. "...Is Squall."

   Twister returned to his previous position. "Hold on! You want me to call you Squall? Well why didn't you just tell me?" Squall facehoofed. Twister suddenly got an idea. He spun around to face the Batpony and cleared his throat. "Well, since you know who he is, you might as well know who I am." He lifted up his shirt, revealing the name beneath.

   The Batpony gasped. "Oh, wow!" she breathed. "You're Tw..." she struggled to read the upside-down word, "Tw... Twisted Biscuit?"

   "Sure am!" Twister said, his voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

   "Omigosh, hold on, just a sec." The Batpony grabbed a piece of paper and started writing down her phone number.

   Twister grinned up at Squall. "I'll teach you someday, Squeebuscus."

   The Batpony finished her phone number, then looked up at Twister with a crafty smirk. "Here you go."

   Twister began to reach for it. "Thank you—" but his hoof missed the target as the Batpony slowly slipped the piece of paper to Squall. "Whaaaaaaaat?!"

   "Call me," the Batpony whispered to Squall, who was grinning from ear to ear.

   Twister looked at Squall, in complete disbelief. He tried to say something but just kept stuttering. "B... Bu—but—but—bu—b—"

   Squall picked up the number. "Hot..." His face slowly morphed into a shit-eating grin, "Hot..." He shoved the number in Twister's face, "Hot!"

   Twister put his head on the counter, sulking. "Aw, dang it!"

~END