Joel, The Element of Badassery

          "Ding!" Joel immediately recognized this as the oven finishing it's meatballs that he was heating up. He poked his head out of the small guest room, almost cautiously, then proceeded to the oven to claim his savory delicacy.

          He flew through the hallway haphazardly. The meatballs were going to be his little secret, not the whole households. Alas, he was all but too late as a shadowy figure stood in front of his, preventing passage, or movement for that matter.

          "You ruined my recording. Octavia said, with her unidentifiable orchestral instrument In hoof, brandishing it threateningly. Luckily, Vinyl was there to prevent her pet peeve from siccing the poor colt right there on the spot. With the likelyness of a mother cat tending to her kittens, Vinyl hoisted Octavia over Joel, and replaced her looming presence with a devastating question. "Are those meatballs?"

          Game over. Abort mission. Those were the only things daring through Joel's strained mind. "Yes." he struggled.

          "They smell good. Can I try one?" She asked rhetorically, proceeding to lift one up with her magic and took a bite out of it.

          "NO," Joel demanded. "Those are mine, and THIS IS SPARTA!" Joel screamed out of nowhere, and in one swift motion lifting the tray with his magic, cradling them just so they would stay on the pan as he flung himself and the Swedish delights into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. "And tonight," He said, finishing his torn up quote. "We dine like kings!" He said.

            Joel inhaled the enticing aroma of the meaty blobs of savory art. The smell could drive a man to kill. Without further ado, Joel shoveled the meatballs down his throat, when he thought the most he had ever had for another person. His brain thought as follows: if want keep waifu, must keep waifu happy. Obviously this is a euphemism for his mental capacity when it comes to keeping others content, sharing, and other gay shit like that, but for real; he wasn't going to leave Vinyl out there for no reason.

          It was decided. He would hand over the meatballs. He slammed open the door and walked up to Vinyl, pushing through Octavia, whose scowl could kill a pony, and offered one to her.

          "Aww," Octavia teased. "How romantic!"

          "And how many coltfriends do you have?" Vinyl defended. "Oh yea, that's right; none." She finished, and to rub it in, she gave Joel a rather non consensual kiss on the lips.

          "Fine," Octavia said, clearly not giving two fucks. "You win." She slowly trotted back to her room for restart the recording. Joel and Vinyl sat down on the couch to finish the meatballs when a call came in. Vinyl picked up the receiver and after a few "uh huhs" and an "ok", she hung up.

          "Dj deal, next week." She recapped, giving us less intelligent folks a chance to understand what was going on. Joel nodded and threw a meatball her way. When she caught it, she left the room to God knows where. Joel remembered that he still had Ponikea furniture left. He returned to his abode as well, only this time, he would actually try.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

          After four uneventful hours, Joel gave up on his hopeless excuse for a well built footlocker. Besides that, he had the normal bedroom set finished, all in black whateverwoodikeausesthatnooneknowsabout. He invited Vinyl inside, and she flipped. Octavia gave it a 'A for effort', but nonetheless, gave no shits. Joel sat down on his cou- er throne, and reclined in his modern castle. He deserved it. Vinyl was already asleep on his bed. He decided to join her, resting his head on the cheap-ass hay, letting Luna put him to sleep, despite only being 6:00 PM.