I have nothing better to do with my life so I wrote this thingy
I have nothing better to do with my life so I wrote this thingy
The sun slowly ascended above the horizon, bathing Griffonstone in warm, golden light. As the world woke up, so did Gilda. She yawned and stretched, working out the kinks in her neck, limbs, and wings.
Or she tried to, at least. Nothing happened.
Gilda's eyes snapped open, realizing that something felt terribly wrong. She couldn't move. She was hungry. The sunlight was hurting her eyes. She felt square.
No, not square. She felt like a cube.
"What?" Gilda squawked. Hmm, her beak seemed to still be beak-shaped, and not cubed. Odd, but not important, because the rest of her was still cubed, and that was bad. Really bad. "Someone help me!"
A window slammed shut in a nearby house. Gilda groaned and was about to accept her cubed fate when a familiar form caught her eye.
"Greta!" she called out desperately. Silence, but then the other griffon caught sight of her friend and quickly flew over.
"Woah, you're all cubed and stuff," she remarked, tilting her head to get a better look at Gilda's strange transformation.
"Yeah, I realized," Gilda deadpanned. "Fix this, will ya?"
"Uh, how?" Greta scratched her head with a claw.
"Just do something. I want to be normal again."
Greta stared at her for a minute. "Actually... I don't think I will."
Gilda's jaw dropped. "Wait, what?"
"Well... you look adorable as a cube." Greta walked around Gilda, studying her form. "You're much less threatening and you're all tiny and squishy-looking."
"...you have got to be kidding me."
"No, really, you do!" Greta poked Gilda in the side with a wing.
"Greta, cut it out and just get me some help already! Don't be a dweeb!" Gilda shouted, but Greta ignored her.
"Y'know, I think I'll take you home with me," Greta decided.
"No," Gilda demanded, "you can't do that."
Greta shrugged and lifted Gilda onto her back. "I don't know about that. No one is stopping me and we don't have any laws against it, so I think it's fine."
"Well, we also don't have laws against burning down the house of someone kidnapping you, so you better watch yourself," Gilda snapped. "Now let me go!"
"Nope."
"Yes!"
"I don't wanna."
"Too bad!"
"No, too bad for you, because you can't actually stop me," Greta pointed out.
Gilda growled angrily and scowled, even though she knew that Greta couldn't see her face. Maybe if she tries hard enough, her scowl would burn through the back of the other griffon's head and engrave its image onto her pea-sized dweeb brain. "You're horrible," she informed her.
"Don't be mean," Greta scolded. "Just keep your beak shut until we get back to my house, then we can talk all night long if you want."
Gilda opened her mouth to argue, but she was silenced as Greta suddenly leaped into the air.
"Oof!" Gilda yelped as her cubed self slammed into the ground beneath. She has no idea where she was, but it was rather dark dark and stuffy. "Ow! That—"
"Shhhh!" a voice shushed her. If Gilda hadn't been a cube, she would've jumped so high that her feathers would've burned up in the atmosphere. "Ya has'ta be quiet!"
"Wha—?"
"SHHHHHHHH!" a candle flickered on, revealing the face of an age-worn, slightly crazy-looking griffon. Her eyes were glossed over, her feathers were thinning, and her left ear was twitching uncontrollably. "I said to ya, ya gots ta be quiet!" she screeched.
"You're being plenty loud yourself," Gilda hissed back at her, being careful to keep her voice down. Even so, that still earned her a kick in the side.
"We's gonna be caught if ya keep up the chatter," the elderly griffon warned her.
"Caught? By whom? What are you even—OW!" Gilda could already anticipate the dark purple bruises that were surely forming on her side.
"By YOUR MOM!" the griffon cackled, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Oh, that joke never gets old," she chuckled more quietly to herself.
Gilda silently disagreed, but she kept her opinion to herself because she felt that she had already sustained enough injuries.
"No, no. Not your mom. In all seriousness, though, I'm runnin' from the illuminati," the old griffon informed her.
"Illuminati?"
"Yeah, an' that idiot who's tryin'a become the king o' Griffonstone when e's nothin' but a dirtbag."
"Riiiiight," Gilda said, not wanting to question this griffon's strange ideas. "Anyway, can you help me get to a place called Ponyville? I sort of have a problem and I have a few friends there that might be able to help me fix it," she explained.
"O yeah, of course. Just go through that portal o'er there, darlin'," the older griffon instructed.
"Portal? What portal?" Gilda asked. She didn't see any portal.
"This portal!" And with that, she grabbed Gilda Cube and chucked her, hard, at the other side of the room. Gilda braced herself for impact with a wall, but instead found herself shooting out of a mirror and straight into Pinkie Pie's face, knocking her to the ground.
"Oh hi Gilda!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed, jumping back up to her hooves as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired.
"Hello Pinkie..." Gilda groaned, her face smushed into the floor. Pinkie Pie frowned and turned her over so that she could breathe.
"Wow, you look like you just went through a really weird day," Pinkie Pie remarked. "Even weirder than my weirdest days, and that's really saying something."
"You don't know the half of it," Gilda laughed.
And then everything exploded into marshmallows and confetti.
THE END.
