Salt Water

by Slesh

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Human, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Colgate
Length: 16005

In the time of chimpanzees, he was a monkey.

There's a pier home to thousands of people. Overflowing with men and women from every walk of life. Side by side, hand in hand, gladly packing themselves onto the engrossing boardwalk. They relish the rides and relax on the wooden platforms, sitting on each other's shoulders, laying in each other's laps. But none dare to approach Derek Chandler. That pile of detritus and filth. He was the boardwalk's cross to bare... until she came.

Our faith comes in moments; our vice is habitual.

(Notice: Contains vulgar language that may be offensive to some readers. Contrary to what the picture suggests, there is no actual clop in this story. However, the topic a major point in both character development and the plot. Suggestive themes.)

Published 2012-09-24 14:34:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-09-24 14:34:02 UTC

Invade my city

The dim testing room held a serious, solemn atmosphere. Bits of dust calmly floated abroad the air, only noticeable when they chose to bask in the horizontal lines of sunlight blaring in-between the window shades. All of the blank walls surrounding the stead didn’t help relieve the stressed mood either. And one lone, fatuous, irritating fly aggravated the test-takers with its buzzing and dodging so misplaced.

“Richard Hollenbach,” the jaded teacher aired as he dispensed another student’s essay. “Ninety-two percent, good work.”

The somewhat less prepared student sitting behind Richard Hollenbach clenched his fist as the tired instructor drew nearer. The fit young man closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Derek Chandler!” announced the professor in a deriding tone. “Forty-five percent, you failed again son.”

“Whatever,” the addressed pupil replied dryly. “I don’t even fuckin’ care all that much to be honest witcha’.” Derek proceeded to crumple last week’s assignment and shoot it into the trash bin. “Three points!”

Derek could have sworn he heard the bored instructor mutter an insult before continuing to hand off more students’ essays—he didn’t care.

Somebody softly nudged the senior's shoulder with a pencil. A thin guy with curly black hair and a white muscle shirt rudely started shaking his chair like a madman. “Yo Chandler, brouhaha, brochacho, brauthority, wassup!” he greeted. “What’s up bro? Your fuckin’ grades are tankin’ man… never really figured you the stupid type.”

The apathetic delinquent scoffed and cocked an eyebrow. He lethargically shifted his upper body to meet the stranger, idly resting his arm on the seat's back. “I don’t even know you dude, why’re you talking to me? Oh, and I heard your grade, you’re not doin’ that much better, dumbass.”

“True, true.” The pesky black sheep flung his hands atop his head with a sigh. “But I’m stupid. You’re not. Bro you’re just so… different! Kinda weird! But that’s a’ight, guess everyone’s a little weird around these parts, huh?” he asked rhetorically.

Derek grinned, then gauchely shook his head sideways as he directed himself back to the front of the classroom.

“Come on man! This is Socastee High School, motha’ fuckin’ Myrtle Beach! Live a little. If ya can’t have fun here, ya can’t have it anywhere else. Hey, I’m trying to talk to ya bro.” Unfortunately for the warmhearted bro-ham, the long-awaited dismissal bell rang throughout the high school vestibules before he could finish.

And the delinquent already had his iPod’s buds plugged in his ears. Adorning himself with his signature red sunglasses, the crappy student immediately made a beeline for the exit. Spiking the front of his chocolate-brown hair up, Derek glanced to his rear. Sure enough, his new meddlesome friend was in hot pursuit.

“You’re not gettin’ off that easy, prick!” the lanky teenager shouted.

Many students broke into hysterics. Some even lauded the pair for their inappropriate behavior as a way of thanking them for the temporary excitement.

Derek rolled his eyes and turned to confront his shadow. “What’s your name again guy?” he queried morosely. “I done forgot.”

“Rad dude, you’re gettin' in the spirit. Dominic Harding, Dom’s fine!”

The iPod junkie nodded briskly. Pulling out his favorite electronic, Derek punched in the safety code and pressed the shuffle tab. “Let’s see… Beck, huh? Not my first choice but all right.” he whispered.

He hastily maneuvered through the school's winding hallways. The delinquent spotted the glorious red exit sign he knew all to well. He pushed the door open. Joyous, opportune sunlight hugged Derek with all of its sublime rays. Hot as an oven. Even with his sunglasses on, Derek couldn’t take the risk of looking up for a millisecond. For if he did, the light would blind him, and he didn’t need that song stuck in his head again. Not to say his sight wasn’t a travesty at ground level either. Planes of pavement spanned miles over the town, effulgently reflecting the sun’s radiant glimmer.

If the quarry were to escape it's hunter, the reject would have to get off campus. No doubt, Derek stuck out like a sore thumb when compared to the other students. In fact, the delinquent dwarfed many a senior. Not only that, but he was unnaturally tan for a Caucasian—dark of face and body. Oh, and he was sprinting. The sprinting didn’t help.

Dom was—unsurprisingly—a skater. The eager teen kept his body as close to his skateboard as possible, keen on chasing down the frigid free-runner. Experience seemed the pest's best friend, as he breezed past obstacles that most boarders would never think of trying. Albeit, his brain cells probably weren't at their full capacity. Kid looked high as a five year old after getting a molar out.

The pursuit lasted a good ten minutes. Every time the reluctant blaze jumped a fence or bounced off the hood of a car, the boarder was right behind him with a grind or a kick-flip.

*~*~*~*

Finally, they had reached the notorious Boardwalk. Where joint collectives of white trash could act as irrationally as they wanted. Tattooed jerks clothed in muscle shirts and backwards caps. Skanks with too many holes in their Denim shorts and oozing hair dye. Truly this was the melting pot of South Carolina. Goths, vampires, douchebags, faggots, tourists, bitches and bastards—everything Derek despised.

Except, for the law enforcement. Not because they did a good job or anything, they sucked on ice. But—for Derek at least—it was just fun as hell to screw with them. Police chases made Derek happier than a pig in shit. Particularly when he was the one being chased. What a rush.

Finally, Derek came across the beloved Officer Cox strolling by on his trusty motorized scooter. Oh, Officer Cox. The lighthearted, chubby policeman everyone loved to hate. Always giving the occasional not-so-skilled free-runner a run for his or her money. That son of a bitch was fond of his work, god bless him, doing his job with an interminable smile under his bushy red mustache.

“Ha! A friggin’ maniac’s behind me, while goddamn Officer Cox is right up ahead! Could I ask for a better scenario? Haha… this is gonna be fun. Now, how to get his attention?” the hunky loner thought with a nefarious grin.

Chandler interred his foot in the street as he stomped on the brakes. Hell-bent on finding an idea, Derek allowed his consciousness to slip momentarily. Allowing his body to rely on instinct. The senior belted into the outdoor bar on his left.

Many tourists were bewildered with the seemingly crazed student. However, a lot of regular customers maintained their normal composure, completely unfazed by the lone wolf’s habits. In fact… a few showed expressions resembling sorrow. The residents of Myrtle Beach were enjoying their afternoon in peace, but now they all displayed frowning lips and eyes overflowing with pity for the inept failure tumbling into the bar.

“You’d think he’d learn his lesson… that kid needs to learn some responsibility,” a concerned patron whispered discreetly to the bartender.

“Give im’ a break. Poor kid’s out here all by himself,” the bartender said as he wiped the sweat off of his bald scalp. “Boy’s folks are like… chemical engineers. Heard they’re doin’ somthin’ big in Japan. Left im’ here all by his lonesome for a year at least… nobody to tell him how to function in society.”

“Shouldn’t he know those things by now?” the troubled visitor said as he observed Chandler ravaging over multiple tables.

“Doesn’t the line between right and wrong get a little blurry around that age? Sex, drugs, alcohol… more influential now than at any other point in his life.”

“He should still know all that by now! Kid’s probably got a mental handicap or some shit.”

“Maybe… maybe… the kid’s depressed,” the bartender muttered.

“Doubt it. Tons of energy.”

Chandler nabbed a tequila off of the baffled bar patron with a grin. “S’up guy? I’m uh… just gonna steal your tequila for a second. Alcohol emergency! HAHAHA! Bartender, you can just put it on my tab a’ight? Kay thanks bye!”

“Derek! Ya can’t be stealin’ peoples’ drinks every time you come in here. You’re too young to be drinkin’ anyways ya dumb shit!” the irate bartender lectured as he doled out a cigarrete, promptly deploying his worn lighter afterwards.

“Who said I was drinkin’ it, huh? Oh and uh… I’m gonna need to borrow that torch as well, by the by.” The boy laughed as he took the rusty lighter.

Derek scurried out of the bar swift as lightning. He shot Officer Cox a wink before extending his arms out to his sides like a ninja.

“Chandler!” the policeman harrumphed. “My boy, if you keep this up you’re gonna be in juvenile hall with the other delinquents!”

“Gotta catch me first fatass!” Chandler monkey-jumped over a small bench on the shore-side of the boardwalk, placing the tequila perfectly atop it perfectly. “Let’s light it up!” he roared as he chucked the lit lighter into the chalice of alcohol.

An inferno enveloped the bench in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, I know this motherfucker didn’t just set a public bench on fire! That’s arson y’know! I can arrest ya fer’ that!” Officer Cox threatened as he took off his shirt to muffle the flames.

“You won’t Cox! You’re too much goddamn fun for that!”

*~*~*~*

Now the eager tycoon had to escape Dominic and a policeman who had probably called for backup a while back.

Derek searched for a shortcut—anything to help him escape. “Ah, what the… I don’t… remember an alleyway being here.”

Rarely did you ever come across an alleyway in Conway… or really anywhere in Myrtle Beach. Stores were always banded very tightly together. In this cesspool of rebellious youth and reckless adults, space was everything. Wasn’t hard; everyone went to one of the three bigs: a bar, café, or shop. Business would come naturally with the summer. Boys would wave-board down the sloped roads gleefully, and play volleyball until night had once again sunk the ball of fire hanging in the horizon. Girls chatted on the boardwalk, wallowing in the expanse of pawnshops and restaurants like “The Gay Dolphin” and “Cheeseburger In Paradise”. And senior citizens didn’t give a fuck. They got air conditioning, beautiful weather, and cable, what else did they want? But really… Why in god’s name was there an alley?

Derek fled into the narrow alley anyway. Claustrophobic he was not, but the dirty brick walls smeared with graffiti were quite unsettling. At any moment a hobo might jump out of a trashcan and shank him. Or a pack of gangster’s might shoot him in the face and then steal his iPod. Or some dumbass might stop walking at the other end. Or somebody might drop trash out of a window above—

“Oh dear god!” the athletic delinquent collided with some moron who was bent over on the sidewalk, and caused Derek to fall face first into the pavement along with his iPod. The loner’s grey V-neck slid toward his armpits as his white ear buds hopped harshly against the street.

Chandler withheld no tolerance for music-haters. You didn’t just knock someone’s ear buds out, especially not his own. The rule of thumb was: do not disturb Chandler when he’s rocking out. That applies to when he’s playing an instrument and when he’s just listening. Music was an escape, and that’s all it was. It’s like pulling someone out of a vacation because they forgot their phone at home. You just didn’t do that. God knows that 4G iPod Touch was his Holy Grail.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Derek put a hand on his aching head. “Why’d you stop walking?”

The other boy was clearly a tourist—a plaid red jacket was proof enough of that. Other than the jacket though, the pedestrian wore dark blue jeans, black sneakers, and an odd shirt… one with an orange cartoon pony on it and a bolded, white font stapled on that spelt “BRONY”.

“Aw man… Ah am awful sorry about that bromigo. Ah was jus’ pickin’ up my iPod an’ Ah… what are you lookin’ at?” the stranger brushed his long, dirty-blond hair back with his fingers. Shooting an annoyed look at Derek.

“You some kind of pedophile?” the judgmental parkourist chuckled.

“Aw god… you another one o’ them tools, ain’t cha’?” the brony turned his gaze to the sky, as if he were having a conversation with someone else. “Can’t believe Ah get to go through this again, look! Ah am sure we both got better stuff to do, so jus’ let me make my point. Name’s Waylon, Ah’m a fan of the show, Ah... can y'all please stop lookin’ at me like that?”

Chandler could have won the asshole of the year award right then and there. He was shielding his smile with his hand, and had his eyebrows at their maximum height. “Sorry, sorry… go on.”

“Go screw yourself man!” Waylon stuffed his thumbs in his jacket and stormed off. “Like you idiots could ever understand!”

“Whatever dipshit!” The ignorant bully bit back. “Y’all can stick your ponies straight up your country ass!”

After the hick left, Derek’s visage slowly reverted back to its normal, somber state. “Better get back to the hotel, don’t want Skatey McDouchebag catching my trail. Freakin’ tired as shit.”

*~*~*~*

Home at last. Everything was serene as ever at the Hampton inn. A nice overlook of the ocean, a comfy bed, a plasma TV, room service--certainly hospitable. Derek carelessly threw his school supplies on the large bed at the right side of the lime-green room. Mellowing near the wall of glass at the front of the establishment, he savored the incense of salt water emanating from the seashore. But something didn’t seem right within the apartment. Was the fridge… closed?

“Where is that mangy cat?” Derek asked himself morosely.

“Mrrrooowww…” a soft purr echoed through the room.

“Huh?” the tom owner found his calico cat on the ceiling fan of all places. Unique, he would usually go for the cliché’ furniture. “Einstein, pussy! Get your lazy ass off that fan before I turn it on!” the freshman threatened.

After coaxing Einstein down with a bag of pretzels the exercise monger propped his laptop on the kitchen table. Butterflies flew about in his stomach as he clicked the mail labeled “We gotcha’ covered”.

Hi Der-bear, it’s mommy again!!!

Just wanted to remind you of how proud we are of you. I know I sent you something like this last weekend but, well, I guess that’s how the cookie crumbles! Are you talking to any girls over in South Carolina son? Any pretty ladies admiring your abs? I’m sorry I know you hate it when I say these things but I can’t help myself. We already paid for your rent! Don’t want our big boy having any trouble. I know you’re doing your best down there. Keep on trucking!

Love, Mom.

“Dammit!” Chandler wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “Fuck ma! Why do you always say shit like that? I don’t need you making me feel worse you dumb… fuck! Give me those pretzels fat-ass!” Derek reached for the large bag of salty snacks on the ground.

“MRRROOOWWW!” Einstein rebutted.

“You better gimme some pretzels before I euthanize you with a freakin’ spork!”

The selfish feline placed the bag of goods against the glass wall. Einstein proceeded to gently scratch the giant window with his forepaws and caterwaul at something.

“What’s your malfunction? Freaking acting up all of a… holy… crap.”

Fanned out on the surface of the wall was none other than Dominic Harding. Sprawled on a thin sheet of glass, separating him from the salvation of indoors. Sweat flooded from his pimply forehead onto his peach-pink face. A sad sight it was, you never really know the length of a man’s incentive until they’re knocking on your forty-fifth floor window.

“Dude!” Chandler shouted while chucking his cat away from the white trash. “How did… why did… why? Dear god why? How?”

The suicidal ignoramus bared his teeth in a manic grin. “Oh you know, climbed.”

“To the forty-fifth floor?”

Dom smirked and nodded nonchalantly. “With nothin’ but sheer will power… and adrenaline. Duuuuude it’s fuckin’ hot out here dog… hey, check it out! I’ve got an audience… rad.”

“An audience?”

Skater boy had amassed a cluster of witnesses on the street below. They were all chanting the same thing in unison, “Jump, jump, jump, jump, jump…”

Derek, disgusted with the monsters cheering for such an awful thing, scowled. “Fuck these guys, man.”

“Yeah, bunch of assholes ain’t they? Can we uh… can we continue this conversation inside?”

“Kay,” Derek frantically ferreted for a disposable item that was heavy enough to break the glass… what? He wasn’t going to let him die! “For the love of god, how did you even find me? Why didn’t you just ring the doorbell or somethin’ you freak? Drag me into this shit…”

“Heard there was some moron yellin’ random insults on the boardwalk. I asked a stranger for a physical description, told me the guy had vacated and went down to South Ocean Boulevard. Finally, found ya at the Oceanfront Hampton inn and… Well, I was gonna ring the doorbell! But I didn’t think you’d open the door for me and… haha, well what’s wrong with a little excitement anyways? “

“You’re drunk!”

“Feel drunk dude!”

“Wait…” The tardy teen smirked akin to that of a Cheshire cat. “You got here by skateboard, right?” not waiting for a confirmation, Derek merrily sauntered out of the apartment.

Dom seemed puzzled by the random question. “Well… yeah, I didn’t say that already? Oh no! No man! Not my fucking board man! Please dude I’ll go back to the ground on my own! Dude not the board! Not the board dude! Not the—NOOOO!”

The shattered metal plummeting from the heavens spun wildly toward the street. And in the center of the throng of deadly shrapnel, a splintered skateboard whistled as it descended upon the alert public viewing the locale.

*~*~*~*

Two weeks later…

Only six weeks until the last marking period ended. Dominic was crashing at Derek’s crib regularly. He was never invited—just came and went as he pleased. Derek believed skater-boy wasn’t worth the time or effort. Ignoring him seemed the best option. Rather, only option. Apparently Dom didn’t have anything better to do with his miserable life except creep past the doorman and pester the bellhop. He’d fallen asleep on the couch a lot. Raid the fridge. Get high.

The inner workings of Derek’s mind produced a few theories as to why Harding did this. At first, he thought the annoying prick just wanted to be a jerk… but no. Dominic was too playful. Then, maybe he wanted to experiment with Chandler, like a renovation of an abandoned home. No, too lazy. Derek went with the third theory he thought of. Dom had no friends. All his “buds” were fake or not really his companions. Deep down Dom probably knew he was an annoying prick to everyone around him. Including his parents. Harsh conjecture, but it was the correct one… or so Derek thought.

Conversations tended to linger in the uncomfortable area for both of them. Topics about food, movies, and TV shows happened often. Sometimes college came up. Derek had no plans whatsoever, while Dominic wished to attend South Carolina State University and take part in The Four-year Army ROTC Scholarship Program.

Over a week’s time Chandler learned that Harding was a confirmed Methodist. Skatey McDouchebag was definitely not a religious freak. But he did have faith in god. Chandler lost his faith four years earlier. “No biggie,” he said. “Religion’s good. Gives people hope and shit right? Great… I just have a problem when people take it to the extreme. And impedes scientific breakthroughs… Man I’m the last guy to be talkin’ bout a thing like that. Politics ain’t my gig.”

Dom would retort with something along the lines of, “So wh-what happens when you die? Nothing! Well woopty-fuckin’-doo for you. My ass is goin’ to heaven. Where there’s gonna be naked babes, endless food, and the power to fly… and naked babes. Hell yeah.”

Horny bastard.

Although, one evening their talk had actually interested Derek, because this time his guest had brought up a viable notion—something that would change the flunky for better or worse. Though it was a wildcard, he couldn’t help but imagine the outcomes.

*~*~*~*

It was a beautiful twilight. The horizon paraded warm, soothing colors—like an ostentatious blanket being draped over the globe. Relative silence veiled the usually outrageous city that night.

Derek sat in a rotating chair, playing on his his laptop while eating pretzels off the dining table with his other hand. Dominic had just been let in again, and he slouched into the couch that was practically absorbing the skater.

“Ya know what your problem is?” Dominic chuckled.

“You.” The recluse chuckled at his own comeback.

“Ya need a girlfriend bro! That’s wassup. Shit… that’s fuckin’ it man. Bitches be everywhere on the boardwalk! With your parkour skills and serious demeanor. My god! Why didn’t I think of this before! All you need is someone to keep you in line!”

“Wait,” Derek spun his chair and faced Dominic with a stern look in his eye. “Say that again.”

“That again.”

“You’re retarded. I mean the part with the whole… girlfriend thing.” He started to circle both of his index fingers in a reverse wheel motion.

“You need someone to keep you in line?” the irritating trash said with an eyebrow raised.

“If I had a woman… who could not only keep me in check and keep me from gettin’ into trouble... But also meet my sexual desires. That’s perfect!”

“Yeah well, if only every girl in the world were like that huh? Ya don’t even want a quirky chick, but one that keeps you happy visually and mentally. That’s a pretty vague majority. Ya don’t have a dream girl or anything? Cuz my dream girl is like… Sailor Moon… or Sakura Haruno, Rise Kujikawa, Pinkie Pie. Heck I think some anime guys are pretty hot. Like Kiba, The Count, Sanji.”

“Kay, I have no clue what you just said. But no, I’m not picky. Honestly I don’t care what she looks like. I’d like her to be… fuckin’ funny! A man’s gotta smile. She’s gotta be smart, cuz I’m stupid as shit, ya dig? True I don’t want someone ugly, but she’s gotta be healthy and treat herself like she will me.”

“Let me interrupt… you want a broad who’s healthy, smart, funny, keeps you happy, and dedicates her life to you.”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

“Then you’re a fuckin’ idiot. A relationship is supposed to be half-and-half. Don’t expect a girl to give everything to you. Romance be an experience for both ain’t it? I mean by your description, you want the complete opposite of yourself. Find it hard to imagine you’ve never had a girlfriend… you, with your attitude?”

The delinquent smiled and opened his right palm. “Righty will never betray me, and never let’s me down.”

“Word,” Dom left the couch and opened the door. “And before I bail… remember… be careful what you wish for bro, don’t hurt yourself.”

Derek snapped his eyes to the closed door his friend had walked out of. That last sentence carried a little quiver at the end there. Peculiar, but Chandler preferred not to think about it.

Five hours passed and Derek laid on the bed, watching the ceiling fan spin. It put him in a trance, gave him a state of empty-mindedness as he drunkenly circled his head round-and-round, following the fan. At long last, Einstein shut the device off with a paw after jumping the switch.

In his clear condition, Derek decided to do something he hadn’t done in a while.

Pray.

He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. “Dear God… haven’t talked to you in a bit, yeah? I’ll keep it short. Please, give me the chance to meet a girl… a girl who’s smart, funny, and kind… just a chance to talk to her… it doesn’t have to be tomorrow or sometime this week. But whenever you think would be the right time. I’ll uh… pray more. Thank you. Amen.”

*~*~*~*

The next morning…

Orange sunlight faintly penetrated Derek’s eyelids. He begrudgingly cursed the sun and turned to his side. Oh, it was extra warm.

Soft fur nuzzled his leg as he kicked the blanket. Einstein must have wanted to sleep with him. Touched by his cat’s sudden affection, Chandler began petting the fur with his toes.

“Mmmm…”

…That wasn’t a purr.

Derek slowly spread his eyelids apart. And beheld a Maya blue pony with a horn pointed at his forehead. She had a peaceful visage, and slept cozily beside him. The mare put her leg over his and pushed her head further into the pillow. Her mane was a gorgeous periwinkle with a pigment blue streak running with it. The pony itself was a bit shorter than him. She snoozed soundly. Obviously unaware of the human laying next to her.

“Why do you hate me so much, god?”

An inexplicable calm took the reins on Derek’s mind. The delinquent’s consciousness hadn’t realized or accepted what was in front of him yet. Almost like a lucid dream. But he was awake.

He could feel her smooth, patted fur. Hear the mare’s slow, fragrant breaths. See her Maya blue chest rising and falling. The slumbering pony was completely unaware of the cozy Hotel room.

‘Delicate situation’ didn’t do it justice. Derek enacted his Indiana Jones persona, expertly removing his leg from underneath the pony and replacing it with a pillow. When he felt it was safe, the underachiever snaked out of the bed and quietly tiptoed over his wooden floor into the bathroom. He needed to get his bearings on before trying to enter the main room again.

The delinquent took a towel and screamed mutedly into it. “Okay,” Derek said to himself while he peered at his reflection in the mirror. “Now, what the hell is… oh go—BLEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!” the free-runner puked out yesterday’s pretzels in a yellow, crumby waterfall. “Shock, I’m in shock. Shit. As if I don’t have enough problems with—BLEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!” this time Derek submitted to his bodily fluids and knelt over the toilet, defeated.

“That… thing… is gonna hear me if I keep this shit up. Come on think, think!” Derek put his palm to his face in anguish. “Einstein.”

Derek lightly pushed the door open. He spotted his cat balancing on the ceiling fan, growling at the intruder. The tom had its tail erect and it’s back arched.

The tom owner thought on his feet and scolded the cat while he fumbled around the kitchen for a bag of pretzels. “Einstein!” he whispered loudly. “Bad kitty! Bad! Don’t jump! I won’t forget it, sprick! Look, pretzels!” he uttered while shaking the goodies.

Einstein saw the food and hacked up a wet cough at the sight.

“Really? Really? A hairball! That’s so cliché! You’re better than that Einstein!” Derek infuriatedly chucked the bag at his frightened cat, which yowled in dismay.

Derek’s eyes shut in terror. But even after his cat’s smack against the floor, the mare remained asleep. “Bitch can snooze like a dog… whatever; don’t know what’s going on, but I’ma put a stop to it right fuckin’ now.” The young man took his cell phone off of the dining table it was perched on.

A monologue formed inside the flunky’s brain. “It’ll be a lot easier for me to call 9-1-1 if you stay in dream land. Don’t know what ya are, how ya got here or why. But this is it.” He watched the tranquil mare sleep in his bed. A shred of pity blew past his hard layer of judgment, but was quickly eradicated.

“Sorry, I’m not doin’ this for fame. But ya can’t be here.”

As if on cue, the doorbell tolled just before Derek could finish dialing the number. Surely it wasn’t Dominic, too early.

Phone in hand, the early bird turned on the intercom. “Yo?”

“Hey uh… pardon, is Derek Chandler there?”

“Yeah, who the hell is this?”

“It’s Waylon bud. The guy ya ran into on the street… Ah been tryin’ to find ya on the road but no luck, ran into that Dominic feller while Ah was walkin’ by. He said it wasn’t any o’ my business! But he apologized and said he was goin’ to get a friend who obsesses over his iPod. Knew it was you… Ah felt real bad fer yellin’ at ‘cha. Jus’ wanted to make ammends y’know? So Ah followed him. ”

“Holy shit,” Derek wasn’t slightly interested with how some random guy from the sticks wanted to apologize so badly. Any witness was a good witness, even if it was a pedophile. Because when two people say they’ve seen the same thing at the same place—even if it does sound crazy—they both can’t be ignored. “Come on in dude! Got the story of your life in here.”

“Pardon?”

The exhilarated sloth nearly broke the hinges off the door when he threw it open. He forgot that he was still clad in striped boxers and a white undershirt in front of a guest. It didn’t really matter though. “Well shithead, ready to be part o’ history?” he asked softly. “Look!” Derek nudged his head towards the bed.

Waylon’s eyes widened for a few moments. The bewildered hick’s legs gave out from underneath him. And the bumpkin’s blue jeans got a bit darker in his special area.

“Hey dude, chill out.” Derek grabbed the cowboy’s jacket and brought him back to his knees. The loner smacked Waylon five times before he came to.

“Ah’m good… Ah’m good. Ma heart jus’ exploded a bit,” the redneck laughed. “Oh man, is that what Ah think it is? Ah seen it in My Little Dashie, but in real life… dang man!”

“Whatever bro, I’m about to call the cops so-“

“What?” Waylon’s transfigured expression of joy instantly flashed into one of apprehensiveness and fear. The plaid foreigner stood on his feet with lightning in his eyes and his fists clenched as if he were crushing a fly. “Are you stupid or somthin’?” he hissed.

“Oh please… don’t you play this fuckin’ game with me dipshit! I have every right to call the police department! Because this-is-some-fucked-up-shit in my bed. My bed! Not yours! This shouldn’t even be a debate. Whether that piece o’ work is some genetic mutation, a cartoon pony that knows teleportation, or a prank! I don’t give a flying fuck unless it’s out in the next ten minutes!” the frustrated free-runner could barely keep his voice from escalating.

“Don’tchu have a shred of morality. They’ll kill ‘er—maybe conduct some experiments, worse even. Aigh’t see here, I have no idea what’s goin’ on. I didn’t have anythin’ to do wit’ this. But Ah have a couple theories, jus’ gimme five minute outside.”

The dynamic duo quietly stepped outside the green apartment. After the door closed, Waylon put a hand in his pocket and the other on his head. Conviction transfixed his previous dirty look into a small frown; his wavy blonde hair roughly stuck out in-between his fingers in worry. “Pay attention.” Blonde asserted. “Everything I’m about to say could be wrong, but this kind o’ thing has happened before… in fan fictions, Ah mean. Usually it’s the other way around, a human goes to Equestria.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about dude?” Derek interrupted with a scoff.

“Let’s see here, you dead?”

Derek’s blank manner served as an adequate answer to the yokel’s retarded question.

“Kay, scratch that. Got any military bases around here? Ha-ha… hmmm, who knows ya might still be asleep.” The hayseed slapped an unwary Derek hard across the face. “That shoulda’ woken ya up.”

Derek retaliated with a backhand. “No, I’m not sleeping! And I certainly don’t have a fuckin’ magical portal to pony town! And I’m pretty damn sure I’m not dead!”

Waylon rubbed his burning cheek. “Well the only thing left would hafto be divine intervention.”

“Because God really wants to give me a pony, sure, you’re crazy!”

“S’it any more unbelievable than what’s snoozin’ on your bed? Man, Ah know what Ah’m talkin’ about here. You play this by the book an’ you’ll be jus’ dandy! ‘Cuz to be honest; this all might be some big, freaky, unbelievable fanfiction. Plus… the pony usually does go to the depressed loser dude.”

“Here’s a thought, why don’t you take her?”

The obsessed brony lit up for a moment. However, his hair pulling and sweating came back as soon as it had left. “No, I wasn’t chosen. You were. Ah’m not gonna screw the divines over on this. Whatever reason she’s here, it means somethin'. It ain't random.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Let’s just ask her what happened then.”

“Not sure if that’s a good idear. We shouldn’t startle her like that. Ah mean, she’d be scared as a newborn kitten drownin’ in the ocean if we jus’ went an’ tried to talk to ‘er. She’s probably never even imagined creatures like us before. Could break ‘er mentally, man.”

“Oh sure,” Derek sarcastically flailed his arms. “Look out! The pony’s gonna use her deadly unicorn magic on me! Oh Savior! Run for your lives!”

“Your stupidity truly astounds me,” Waylon chuckled. “Never knew that much about Colgate, or… Minuette. ‘Er bein’ a background character an’ whatnot. But she’s a unicorn, which means she’s dangerous. Ha-ha… Who am Ah to git in your way though?”

They went back into Derek’s room.

The pony’s visage no longer bore the oblivious tranquility it once shown so well. Tears splashed against the bed sheets in a downpour. A small squeal escaped her lips when the two teenagers made themselves apparent. Colgate’s shivers made the bed feverishly vibrate under her weight. Despite her evident angst, the unicorn’s horn contradicted her terror-stricken appearance as it glowed in defense.

She kept turning her head from one boy to the other. Blonde nearly suffered from a heart attack, like the mare’s sadness was physically hurting him.

But she hardly noticed Waylon.

Colgate stared in dread at the cold, muscular human standing beside him. The tan monkey’s ice-cold stare chilled her to the bone. He assumed a gaunt, emotionless face, his arms loose and untroubled. Only the eyes, those petrifying, horrible, narrowed eyes stood out.

“Yo,” Derek said brusquely.

“S-stay back,” Colgate whimpered, widening her steel blue counterparts. “I kn-know how to defend myself!” she levitated a lamp, a portrait and a pillow into the air. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay back!” a hint of courage managed to escape her lips.

Waylon held his arms in the air but remained slacked. His laid-back smile must have sedated her a bit—she stopped shaking. “Howdy there! Sorry but… could ya please put my friend’s stuff down for a couple seconds? Ah know y’all must be upset. But let’s jus’ take a breather huh? We dun’ wanna hurt ya. We jus’ wanna talk about what happened.”

The toothpaste-mane pony felt unmitigated ambivalence welling up inside of her. “Nothing happened! I didn’t come here willingly you know! I just woke up in front of two hairless monkeys that have the ability to talk. Hay, this might be a lucid dream or something! And you’re the monsters! By Celestia, why would I ever want to talk?”

“Hey, we dunno how ya’ll are here either. But if we put our heads together I’m sure we…”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Derek advanced on the recalcitrant filly. “She’s not in fuckin’ Kansas anymore! Negotiating? There’s no arguing here. It’s not a democracy.” The student glowered intensely at Colgate.

“Oh yeah? Then why don’t y—” she was cut short by a brutal smack across the face. The impact of Derek’s palm rippled throughout her brain, banishing the levitation spell immediately. Her cheek left red as a tomato, mouth agape in shock.

“You didn’t hafto hit ‘er dude,” Waylon chastised as he rushed to the mare’s aid. “Ah had it under control!”

Derek punched the bed. “What kind of idiot thinks about others at a time like this? Just tell me how to get her out of here!”

“Take a chill pill bro!” the redneck said. He put an arm around the hurt filly. “In most fics where this type o’ thing happens it takes months… maybe years for somepony to find a missing individual.”

Even when Waylon kept explaining the situation, the cynic’s muscles were tensing up. His arms flexed, veins popped out of his biceps, and his whole body trembled. Now Waylon and Colgate could hear his breathing becoming heavier.

“I’m not waiting for-“

“That’s fine! That’s fine! There are other ways. But uh, the main character has to go through some kind of awakening or metamorphosis. Ah mean one of them has to learn something important, like a life-lesson or somethin’. And well… that never happens unless… uuuhhh.” he jumped up and put his mouth to Derek’s ear. “The main character has sex first…”

“You’re a perverted, disturbed, warped, depraved, furry weirdo.”

Waylon contemptuously retorted, “Ah can’t help it, that’s my character! Seriously dude. Everyone in this fandom has his or her version. A way of putting themselves in Lauren Faust’s universe, dig? Whether it’s an OC with their personality traits or just flat-out human beings, they ALL end after they fall in love with one o’ the Mane six… an’ climax in ‘em. That’s just how it works! Ah didn’t make the rules! So unless ya wanna wait years on end for ‘er friends, ya better learn how to be a clopper, and fast!”

“You don’t have any self-respect. How dare you have the gall to take advantage of her like that! Anybody can masturbate to porn or, hell I don’t know, fuckin’ hentai. But you have to be real sick in the head if you wack off to… ponies.” Derek shoved Waylon away from him.

Colgate shot her gaze from Derek to Waylon. “You guys are bad whisperers,” she said. “I can hear everything you’re saying.”

Derek mock-punched her in the throat, making her recoil into the pillow behind her head. “You’re gonna do what I say, when I say it. I am the dictator of your new life. Believe me, if I wanted to fuck you, ya would’ve already been fucked.” He grabbed her ear, roughly shaking her head wildly with ease. “Hell, I can snap your neck whenever I wanna. But I’m just too nice for my own good.”

“L-let go of me, please,” she pleaded. “I’ll do what you say, just… stop it!”

Derek continued manically vibrating her ear. “Feel like I’m goddamn Christian Grey.” He let go of the mare’s ear; no sooner than he released her, Derek grasped her horn with his right hand. “I could snap this in half if I—what?”

Colgate’s cheeks were burning up. The flustered mare didn’t say anything, only shut her eyes and bit her lower lip. Suddenly, a sticky, wet liquid spurted into Derek’s palm.

“Oh no,” Derek shut his eyes too. “Hey Waylon. Is this… is this sticky shit between my fingers… what I think it is?”

Waylon crossed his arms and grimaced. “In some stories—”

“Fuck me… It is what I think it is.” He let go of Colgate’s horn and went to the kitchen sink. The delinquent washed his hands thoroughly and wiped them clean with a small rag. “Dear lord, she didn’t hold back at all.”

Waylon laughed at the reject’s expense. “She’s into it,” he said. “I’ll bet ‘cha she wants to bail just as bad. If you two jus’ get it over with it’d be a lot easier.”

Colgate buried her head into her forelegs, crying faintly and hurriedly with the realization of what she needed to do to get home. She was still in Derek’s bed, the wrinkles of her hind legs widening was obvious. And her whimpers grew even more as Waylon leisurely withdrew the blanket.

Derek’s muscles tightened as he approached the single-minded hick. “Give me your cell number,” he bellowed. “Then get the fuck out of my apartment shit-for-brains.”

Waylon squinted in confusion. “What’s up your butthole? Y’all want ‘er outta’ here don’t ‘cha?”

“Get out, before I take you out Waylon. Don’t fucking test me.”

Waylon was taken aback by the hostility being directed toward him and not Colgate. He gave Derek his number and walked over to the door sullenly. The hayseed left the pair behind without a word.

*~*~*~*

Derek skipped three days of school, ignoring phone calls and knocks on the door. Now that he had to manage a cartoon pony he didn’t have as much time to himself. Privileges he used to enjoy were stripped from him in the course of a single morning. Daily activities such as running, television, masturbation, etc. were removed. The delinquent had researched more now than ever before in his entire life. FIMFiction, tumblr, deviantArt, Derek scavenged everywhere for clopfics, all he needed was information, a way out.

He systemized everything he did for five straight days. Only four hours were dedicated to sleep. First thing in the morning he fed himself a warm bowl of oatmeal and a steamy cup of Joe. Likewise, Colgate was given a green apple to digest and a glass of cold water to drink. Then, Derek investigated all of the sites Waylon texted to him. This usually wasted six-to-seven hours of his time, studying Internet ponyphilia every waking moment. What Waylon said was accurate… the majority of Human in Equestria tales had some sort of chemistry between the teleporter and an equine. But Derek was careful. If any fiction started to arouse him, the delinquent would immediately close his laptop and walk in circles until he was “okay,” again, then go back to work.

When lunchtime arrived his plan got some rifts in it. He would need to take part in… social activity! If Derek could ignore his houseguest he would do so indefinitely. But when it came right down to it, he needed to know everything he could possibly know about her. Her optimism was astonishing, but couldn’t pierce the hard shell of a man Derek was. Though, on occasion, he would talk to her more when they watched the My Little Pony TV episodes together, eating dinner all the while. Granted, it wasn’t as bad as Derek thought it would be. For the first time in years, Derek bought some ice cream out on the boardwalk. The Maya blue pony was essentially his slave after all; the least he could do was get her some boardwalk vanilla goodness. He’d swipe a chocolate milkshake for himself too.

Awkward nighttime. There was no way in hell he was going to sleep with Colgate. But he didn’t think she’d linger too long if he just went to sleep. So to prevent her from running away at night, he watched her slumber on the couch. Which took forever. Especially because the clever mare knew he was watching her and giggled every time Derek dozed off a little. Maybe she liked it, but that was none of his concern.

Colgate made herself a very generalized daily routine. Every morning she’d spent a good hour on hygiene, carefully brushing each and every nook and cranny in her perfect teeth. For the next few hours she was permitted to watch the television. That thing blew her mind. Information was vital to her as well but… she seemed to take things more lightly. She always anticipated the next phase of the day with a smile. But she became aggravated whenever she missed something in her waking hours, which hinted at her hourglass cutie mark. She did her own investigating into human activity, watching TV forever.

Sometimes she watched her own show, and even though she was overall disappointed with her lack of screen time, the girl couldn’t get enough of eyeballing the multicolored stallions. Derek found it absolutely hilarious how she would always stop channel surfing on the exercise channels. Something about men flaunting their abs attracted her like a magnet. She also appreciated those really stupid TeenNick sitcoms. There it was… It hit Derek like a freight train. Of course! She was in heat. The filly is in boy-craze mode. Useful detail, but Derek had to do more with this lead. Colgate wasn’t telling him everything.

*~*~*~*

Late Sunday afternoon an orange haze developed above the horizon, crisp and clear. Random pinks, reds and even some blues and purples. The young people abruptly left the monumental boardwalk alone, as if they knew that people in their homes would want to watch the sunset without any sort of distractions. The sea breeze delivered an aromatic wind to all of the landlubbers with the perseverance to see it through. Seagulls retreated from the hunt so that they could return to their colony and revel in the twilight together with each other. Boats returned to the docks, captains celebrating their hard day’s work by absorbing the sky’s massive fireball.

This was Colgate’s favorite phase of the day. Sitting in one of Derek’s bean bags like her dear friend Lyra would. She’d make Derek’s night easier; it would be totally easy falling asleep in that atmosphere, notwithstanding the fly zipping about. She thought her human would like that. So she was shocked when he took a seat on the floor beside her.

Derek didn’t look at her while he spoke, “So… you get many sunsets in Ponyville?”

Colgate’s flustered expression was priceless. “I-I sees uh… a bit, time and again… uh, why? What do you care?” she asked defensively.

“Can’t imagine living without it, y’know.” He twiddled his thumbs. “It’s Just one of those things I need to keep me goin’. There’s nothing quite like a Myrtle Beach sunset to put ya at ease. Helps me concentrate...” The delinquent’s voice slowly dissipated into mumbling.

Colgate, enlivened by this conversation, sat up straight and looked at her hunk sheepishly. “Used to watch it fall behind the hills with my friends… Celestia sure has a way with it, no?”

Derek shrugged. “You got anypony waiting for you?”

“NO!” she hollered embarrassingly. “Sorry, I mean… there are some good friends I’d like to see again. But I don’t have a boyfriend or anything.” The ruffled filly locked her eyes back on the ocean. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal but… uh, do y-you have a… girlfriend?”

“Nope,” Derek replied sulkily. “Sure wouldn’t mind one though. At the same time, the last thing I need is a nag.” The delinquent focused his vision on the reflections of them in the pane of glass. Colgate’s blush blended perfectly with the red part of the sky.

“Ummm… I… I wouldn’t mind that much if we—”

“No!” he cut her off loudly. “I won’t allow myself to fall into that hole. Bestiality… not my thing. Sorry, did I cut you off? Mind if I go on a rant.”

The crestfallen filly sighed, “Sure.”

“I don’t masturbate to rule thirty-four. Don’t expect you know what that is, yeah? People who masturbate to you and other ponies are dubbed cloppers. Sounds wrong… but after looking into the fandom a bit more, I must say, they’re the ones I respect the most. ‘Cuz they at least know what they’re doing, they have no shame and can admit it. The majority of bronies though… are fuckin’ losers! I swear they’re all cattle. They come up with this bullshit like, the animation’s excellent’ andthe characters are amazing’. It’s all fuckin’ horseshit. Maybe those reasons were true in the beginning, hell not now. Fuckin’ idiots just wanna go against the mainstream for the sake of going against the mainstream. Desperate morons who think they’re part of something revolutionary. Oh! But even worse than them are all those… musicians, and those writers and those tumblr cretans. They’re just self-righteous pricks that think they’re the next big things and are just too goddamn cool for school. Goes from Fanfiction, FIMfiction, tumblr, to youtube… all of ‘em, and it never stops. Bronies think they have their own freakin’ code or something. Like any alicorn OC story is automatically down voted, any fic that has sex between a human and a pony is down voted, and cloppers are all frowned upon. Shit, those assholes sent death threats when a background pony had her voice changed and wasn’t referred to by name. And they have the impudence... the gall to promote love and toleration?” The reject’s grimace made Einstein quiver. “This fandom will crumble upon it’s own foundations. It’s inevitable.”

“Have you ever met any of them?” Colgate asked plainly.

“What? Well, no but—“

“Then what in the hay kind of right do you have to judge ponies, er… people based on how they act behind a magical window? It just doesn’t seem right that someone who’s friendless like you can do that.” She smirked. “But what do I know? I’m just a pony after all!”

“A’ight, I tried talking to you, but if you’re just gonna sass me… ugh, you aren’t telling me everything!” Derek shot up and turned on the baby blue filly. “What do I have to do to get you to tell me?”

Colgate looked like she just witnessed the second coming of the father, the son and the Holy Spirit. “Actually, I’ll strike a deal with you!” she exclaimed happily. “If you do what I want you to do until next weekend, I’ll tell you everything. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” She demonstrated Pinkie’s swear vicariously.

“Alright, I’ll play your game. But I have to set at least three conditions first, it’s only fair.”

“Sure!” she yelled excitedly.

“One, nothing sex related.”

“Fine. Not like I wanted to anyway.”

Derek twitched involuntarily for the first time. “Y-you just… whatever! Second, nothing where there’s a concentration of people.”

“Aw, but that’s… ugh, okay.”

“Three, I have to be with you at all times.”

“You already are! Well then it’s a deal.” She extended a hoof.

Derek awkwardly wrapped his fingers around her leg... then switched to grabbing the cusp of the hoof. He experimented with the mare’s hoof for a good five seconds.

“Just pound it.”

“What?”

“J-just pound it you idiot! Don’t fool around with it.”

“I’m not fuckin’ fooling around with it! I’ve never done this before cut me some slack you cunt.” He unknowingly participated in a bro-hoof, sealing the contract that had the strength to snare the delinquent for seven days.

Colgate victoriously leaped from her beanbag. “I think we’re going to get along great! Now, for all seven days… no cursing!”

The foul-mouth knelt in front of her pitifully. “No cursing!? Nononono… you don’t understand. I NEED to swear! It’s kinda my thing. Without cursing I’m just… I’m just an adequate member of society! An adequate member of society! Please, I enjoy being an outcast. My insults are part of what scares imbeciles away from me. You have to let me say the f-word! The s-word! The b-word! The c-word, come on… n-nobody even uses the c-word that much! Why do you have to be such a dick?”

Colgate shook her head side-to-side and waved her hoof, like she was telling off a naughty kindergartner. “You’re taking away the d-word! That’s not even a curse… Oh my god, this is so unfair!” he waved his arms in the air as he wailed.

“God is like your version of Princess Celestia right?” she asked wolfishly.

He groveled on the fine wooden floor, “N-no, you wouldn’t… you wouldn’t… that’s a common phrase! Everyone says that Colgate!”

“Yeah, well sucks for you!” she blurted out ecstatically.

“WHAT THE FFF-… son of a b-… you’re killing me! You’re killing me Colgate, is this what you want?” he asked begrudgingly.

“Using those bad words makes you sound stupid. And from now on…” she lowered her head to meet him. “You’ll refer to me as Miss Minuette! Stop calling me by that redundant, earthly nickname that I don’t understand.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “That’s all for tonight!”

“Y-you just kissed me! That’s sexual!” he accused the hygienic filly, infuriated.

“No it’s not! Kissing is a touch with the lips as a sign of affection. Its used in reverence or greeting to another. Ponies do it in Ponyville every now and again! Don’t you have those… people with the fancy mustaches who apathetically do it all the time? It was just a peck on the cheek jeez. Get a hold of your horses.”

“What are you… a dictionary?” he asked dourly.

*~*~*~*

Monday, the pair had their breakfast at seven in the morning. The deep purple overhead surrendered to the advancing column of westward-marching blue, warning the native sharks it was time to wake for the day's battles.

But, for Derek and Colgate, a temporary cease-fire set their previous skirmishes to rest. Even though their contract was kind of one-sided.

Derek was clad in relaxed, faded black jeans, a gray Blink-182 shirt and an overlapping smooth leather jacket—unzipped of course. But perhaps the most critical portions of his outfit were his red sunglasses that were practically glued onto the eyes of his dark face, and his shark tooth necklace he purchased yesterday while going on his grocery run.

Minuette snuggled with Einstein playfully. She stroked his calico pelt the wrong way and stuffed her nose into his ear. “What cutie-poo! Pets are so incredible. I wish I had one for myself… what made you decide to get a cat, Derek?”

The tom owner stroked his five o’clock shadow drowsily. “Heck, could’ve gotten a puppy if I wanted to. But cats are the epitome of indifference—they mind their own, take care of themselves somehow—I admire them.”

“Do your friends have pets?” she asked innocently.

“Don’t have any, don’t want any… friends I mean, not talkin’ ‘bout animals.”

Minuette shrugged, she expected somebody like him wouldn’t have many companions. “Do you use Einstein to fill the void?”

“No! Miss Minuette, what kind of self-respecting man would plug a rupture in his life with a furball like him? Been with him so long… to give ‘im up now would be giving ‘im the satisfaction.”

He was cut off by the instrumental sounds of Yellowcard’s “Breathing”. Waylon phoned the recluse extensively. Ringtone was beginning to get ear grating. After the millionth call Derek answered his cell to thwart the rapid-fire music. “What do you want?”

The hick replied faster than a Bugatti Veyron, “Did y’all catch AbsoluteAnonymous yet? Kid can write, huh? Ah mean holy crap…”

“She’s like... a year younger than us dude. Didn’t read that much of her work… but I do particularly recall ‘Shipping Goggles’, good shit. I wonder what she says when people ask her what she does Friday nights. Last year I was hittin’ up the Mary Jane and drinkin’ enough to overflow a dam. She does somethin' productive.”

Waylon mumbled in affirmation. “Movin' on, did ya see any o’ Twilightclopple’s work? Now there’re some clopfics if I ever did see any.”

“Yeah she’s goin’ places,” he said sincerely. “If you can make pony masturbation sound hot, y’know it’s time to pursue a career in writing.”

Their banter lasted fifty more minutes. Causing the more unvested party to hang up while the other was talking. Derek thought all the authors and artists he’d critique were incredible at what they did. AbsoluteAnonymous, Twilightclopple, shortskirtsandexplosions, ROBCakeran53, Ariamaki, Cloperella, Mystic, Aegis Shield, RatherHomely, butterscothsundae, One Terrible Writer, kits, P0nies, Aquarian Poet, ImJustAnotherBrony, Molestia, cold-blooded twilight, Pony Perverts, Mic the Microphone, The Living Tombstone and just about every other brony with internet. Every line, every word, every lyric holstered love and dedication that was channeled directly from the respected illustrators mind. Derek mulled over these great bronies while watching the eleven o’clock show… were they watching it at the same time somewhere else?

Lunchtime, three knocks were heard coming from the apartment door.

“Answer it this time,” Minuette ordered gleefully.

“Risky! Somebody could poke his or her head in. But I’ll open it… Miss Minuette,” He got up from the couch and put his orange juice on a stool. He turned the doorknob and pulled back. “Stupid pony,” he whispered to himself. “Get herself killed in… what is this?”

Before him was a rather large cardboard box. The delivery summit was identical to Derek’s kneecaps, and it’s width as wide as the doorway. Neat and flattened strips of duct tape surrounded the mysterious package. The delinquent probed all over it, but couldn’t find the return address anywhere. Only one small slip of paper underneath that read: `For your friend’. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize it was from Waylon.

“Yo,” Derek shook the box over his head. “You remember that hick who was with me when ya got here? I think he wanted to give you this.” He slammed it next to Minuette’s spot on the couch.

“For me? WOW! What a nice guy! I mean he never even talks to me and he’s sending me presents?” she stuck her tongue out at Derek. “You should learn a thing or two from him! He knows how to treat a lady.”

She vigorously ripped the tape into shreds. The contents of the package seemed to have taken her by surprise. She gawked at the present, “I like new clothes as much as the next girl but… what in the hoof is this?”

“Oh no,” Derek groaned. “How many outfits?”

“I think five.”

“Oooooohhhhh nooooooo!" He lodged his head in a pillow. “Let me guess… nurse, schoolgirl, maid, cowgirl and bunnygirl right?”

Minuette stepped back. “Are you psychic?” she asked with a coy smile.

“No, I’m not, but that perverted cowboy is pretty easy to read.”

The Maya blue filly snickered slyly. Everything was there, the schoolgirl short skirt checkered black and red. The sleek bunny ears and revealing black was there. The lacey maid outfit—a great combo like the rest. The pale white nurse costume was at the same level of sluttyness as the rest.

It would’ve been sexy, if it weren’t so wrong.

“See, those would look sexy, if they weren’t so wrong!” Derek exclaimed.

Miss Minuette laughed like a hyena. “You think I would look sexy in these?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You were thinking it!”

“Are you the psychic?”

She swooned and tackled Derek to the ground in a cartoonish fashion. Of course, the fall did not affect his little pony at all, but Derek did feel it. His spine ached under the mare’s pressure. Wincing at the pain, he groaned, “What the heck did ya do that for?”

“That,” Minuette’s voice cracked a little. “Was the first time you complimented me!”

How lonely was this pony?

“Jeez, it’s not that big a deal. My natural flirtatious attitude just… burst out for a second. You’re still a pain in my butt.”

Minuette sighed, “You’re such a dick.”

And for the first time since the day she came into his life, Derek laughed. “Pfffft, AHAHAHA—oh go- oh go-HA, AHAHAHAHAHA! You, you-HAHAHAHA! Got some nerve tellin’ me I can’t curse wh-HA! When you can do it whenever ya want!”

“Hehe, I guess you rubbed off on me.”

They laughed. And their pride was suddenly swept away by the tides of glee. Their mirth like armor protecting them from each other’s awkwardness. This protection softened the blow Minuette had stricken him with. Not the tackle itself, but rather, her materializing into his crappy life. The same life that seemed always to be under fire by others. Looking back on the tears he shed when his family left—made him laugh. And now, after witnessing her tears of sheer happiness and joy, Derek cried for a different reason. And strangely, he could almost feel himself becoming wiser. He cried and laughed just as she did. Perhaps everybody did the same. As if it were some kind of inter-dimensional connection between all sentient beings. Sobs and chuckles, from Earth to Equestria, pony to human, boy to girl, person to person.

Derek’s world was so small. It consisted of school, his apartment and his cat. He never attempted meeting anyone, even before he moved to South Carolina. Is this what the boardwalk was for? Running into complete strangers. For him to expand his world by letting newcomers in—could this be why his parents left him in South Carolina? His Mother would call it the closest thing you could get to the grace of God. Mindless merriment… could it be the answer to all of his problems?

No.

This was the real world. Where people who didn’t take things seriously got stepped on. Friends were merely a hindrance unless they were in high places. Love! If his parents did love him they’d of brought him along too! If the world wanted to fuck him, then he would fuck the world. Make life take the lemons back!

Still though, the embrace was comforting.

“Maybe,” he thought. “I can survive this filly… okay.”

*~*~*~*

“So are Lyra and Bon-Bon lesbians?” Derek asked, legitemately.

Minuette spit out her Tuesday intake of H2O. “What? No! They’re best friends! Why would you even think that?”

“They’re always together!”

“So that makes them lesbians? Ugh… men. Twilight, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy are together almost every day. Are they lesbians?”

“Are they? I wouldn’t know! There’re fifty million stories about rape and lesbian sex and drugs when it’s a cartoon for little girls! Seriously, it’s a show… for children. But the adult fanbase can’t have that can they? We have to get the nerds who draw rule thirty-four in their spare time! They have a… friggin’ REPUBLIC! New Clopping Republic, Cold-blooded Twilight, Pony Perverts.” The delinquent dropped his spoon on the ground as he went to another part of his rant. “But let’s not forget the people who do this stuff regularly. How about those EQD mods! NOW THOSE ARE SOME GRADE-A PEOPLE! Real prime examples of humanity those guys. How’d ya like to read and watch ponies every single day!” Derek inhaled and plopped back into the couch. “I mean, granted that’s some dedication. Respect for that. Pigs wanna roll in mud, let them roll in their kid’s show.”

“Are you going to whine all day? Or are you going to do something useful? We’re running out of food, you should go get more.”

“But that would mean...” Derek stared into space, every fiber of his being begging him not to say the forbidden word. “Driving.”

The loner despised driving. They mixed together as well as water and oil. Derek passed his driver’s test three years ago and hadn’t gone near his car since. He kept his body in tip-top shape solely through running. Carried his bags of groceries back from the local Giant easily but he never got two peoples worth. Needless to say, Derek wasn’t a known as a road demon.

“Ford Mustang… we meet again.” He awkwardly fitted himself into the driver’s seat. “It won’t be that bad. It’ll be like riding a bike. Wh-what’s the worst that could happen? I have so much confidence in my abilities that I’m even using that phrase. I can’t fuck this up. I won’t fuck this up. I’m not gonna fuck this up. There’s no way I’ll fuck this up.”

~~~

Dominic steadied himself to serve the volleyball again. He chucked the ball up above him and flexed his knees. The greasy teenager slammed the yellow ball with his fist, having it soar way over his competition.

“Nice serve retard,” Dominic’s classmate said sarcastically, the player was the same height as Dom, six feet. He was a lighter black skin color. His six-pack prominently displayed, overlaid with tattoos. Some even going past his blue shorts and onto his calves.

The twin juniors on the other side of the net bro-fisted gaily. “A’ight! Hope you guys keep that good shit up,” the tanned one with the sleeveless Gorillaz shirt remarked. “This’ gonna be a blowout.”

In the distance, a ford mustang was going sixty-five miles per hour.

“What the hell—“ Dom’s friend pointed at the speeding vehicle.

“We better get out the way boys!” Dom warned urgently.

The car swept up the sand of the beach and the poles of the volleyball net were struck with enough force that they toppled over. The driver woozily escaped the wreckage and got on all fours, spitting out some after-vomit.

“Damn dude, you fucked it up,” Dom’s friend snorted despondently.

“I’m aware,” Derek aired as the posse surrounded him.

Dominic’s friend contentedly heckled Derek, “What’s wrong with you? How the hell did you lose control of the car?”

“Yo,” Dom intervened. “Chill out Big O, are you all right bro?” he asked sincerely.

“Yeah I’m fine, haven’t driven in a while.”

Dom’s three friends heartily laughed at the delinquent, “What a fuckin’ loser!” One twin exclaimed. “How’re you gonna explain this to your parents, huh?”

“How’re ya gonna explain to your folks what happened when all I knock every fucking tooth out of your jaw, dipshit. Why the hell do ya hang out with shitheads like these guys Dom?”

“You got a problem with me ass-wipe?” Big O pushed Derek violently.

The giant pushed back with even more power. “I don’t think I was talking to you was I? Why don’t you do yourself a favor and shut the hell up, nigger shit.”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Big O and the two twins jumped Derek simultaneously. The rebel was shutdown quickly when Big O swung at his head, and the twins started kicking his ribs while their Negro friend continued his beat down on the racist.

“Guys let im’ go.” Dom said passively.

They didn’t listen. Blood trickled down Derek’s right eye as Big O nailed him again.

“Guys he’s had enough! Chill out!” Dom ordered a bit more aggressively.

The twins tried to restrain the Big O, who was demolishing the white trash underneath his weight. He thrashed the delinquent’s skull over and over again.

Dom ripped his friend off Derek with hostility. “Jesus… you tryin’ to kill im’?” he said. “Keep your shit together O!” He grasped the bloody pulp’s arm and brought him to a sitting position. “You need a hospital bro.”

“I’ve taken harder hits.” The arrogant recluse wiped some blood out of his eyes. “Don’t need your help,” she stated as if cotton were in his mouth.

“Don’t be a tard.”

“Me? Thought you’d go an’ get some friends after bein’ disregarded.”

“The fuck are you talkin’ ‘bout? I’ve known these guys for years, shit-for-brains.”

*~*~*~*

What? The blunt reply of his greasy friend disconcerted Derek. Up until this point, the recluse was convinced Dom was an outcast just like him, only less healthy. But the opposite was true. In spite of the druggy’s alcohol inhibitions and chemical abuse, he had lived his life to the best of his ability. Though his grades were awful and his athletic skills appalling, the tenacious teen wasn’t afraid of anyone. He had made a conscious effort to befriend any stranger he came across. Society didn’t loathe him, nor did he—it. Dom’s quirkiness is what gave him the edge. At first glance he strikes you as just another douchebag, not at all, beneath the pimples and the curly jet-black hair was a person. Someone else with dreams, hopes, and admirations like anyone you’d run into on the amicable boardwalk.

Derek had renounced his faith, family and fellow classmate. An isolated scrap of garbage nobody was too fond of, and never bothered to dispose of it. He was completely worthless to everyone, nothing more—nothing less.

And here Derek thought that maybe… just maybe… there was someone else like him. Two people who never influenced anyone’s life negatively or positively coming together, two neutrons merging together in the void of space. Pretty poetic. And it was another metric ton of bullshit. Derek judged Dominic obstinately fast. Adjudication was what he trained himself to do in order to keep himself in his small, safe little bubble where pain would never, ever cross the threshold. Parents departing only a small scar that had long faded.

Dom knew pain. Rejection, fights, bullying, you name it. He didn’t give two shits about what other people said about him behind his back. That was just so pitiful to him. If somebody didn’t respect him he wouldn’t hide from their antagonism, he would disrespect them right back. Ultimately, Dom’s drive and happy attitude earned him reliable friends.

And it made Derek jealous… so very jealous, and filled him with hate and revulsion from this realization.

“Well then why don’t you just jerk em’ off all day, see if I care,” Derek blurted out. “I don’t need your patronizing! I can take care of myself!” Unbeknownst to the scarred teenager, his lower lip was quivering incessantly, and his tear ducts reflecting a little too much.

Dominic’s expression gave a genuine sense of concern. “Hey man, are you… calm down bro. I’m jus’ tryin’ to help you out… I’m sorry. It’ll be alright.”

“Don’t t-talk to me like… like I’m a… LIKE I’M A GODDAMN TWO YEAR OLD!” He kicked his rescuer into the volleyball net. “You’re not my friend, you never were, you j-just fucking stay the hell away from me!”

“Dude chill!”

“If you were my friend you would’ve… God I don’t know, stopped this shit sooner? You wouldn’t be so fucking annoying! I can’t stand people like you!”

Dominic shot a menacing stare that pierced the unctuous jerk to the core. “If you hate this world and everyone in it so much… why don’t you just kill yourself?”

That question took the ground off him. Ending everything. Who would care if Derek no longer prowled the boardwalk? Cox’s job would be easier. The delinquent didn’t care… he thought he mattered. If Derek didn’t matter well… what did matter? Nothing. What was he waking up for every morning? His own family abandoned him. Nobody was ever going to love a belligerent hermit such as he. He’d die alone… like a penguin that couldn’t quite sled with the herd.

Derek went home. He forgot the groceries.

*~*~*~*

Wednesday. The tide had made full flow in the late afternoon, and by the time the sun fell low its roar loosened to a gentle sigh. The crowds had deserted the beach just an hour or so before, and shore birds fought over their leavings. Streaks of deep pink, blood orange and full on red ran through the wispy cloud cover like watercolors. By now the muted sand had cooled, and the moon made its glimmer known against the dying of the light.

“I want to swim,” Minuette said candidly. “I want to visit the ocean!”

“It’s illegal to swim there at night,” Derek riposted in monotone. “Not that they can enforce that rule very well… I’ll do whatever you wanna do.”

“Really?” She anxiously raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t expect you to comply so readily.”

“Let’s just go okay? Don’t need a freakin’ cross-examination.”

The cure for anything is salt waters—that saying used to mean something to him. It’s hard to put into words why he used to love the beach so much. Perhaps, it was in his blood. Years ago the whole family vacationed to the Myrtle Beach instinctively, just like the sea turtles. Dad would monitor Derek’s every move, as he’d play in the sand; splash in the water; get dirty; get wet. Mom never hollered at him for those shenanigans. Time flew there… oh, how it flew.

“Eleven o’clock… put some clothes on, it’s gonna be as cold as the ninth circle. And please, don’t-not the freakin’ schoolgirl… or playboy bunny… er, actually, Lemme get ‘chu a hoodie.” Derek outfitted the filly in an old black hoodie. Dirt smeared like a shroud across its entirety. “If anyone asks, you’re a prize I won at the arcade, that’s why I’ll be carrying you, got it?”

“Got it!” she chirped. “Whoah—what in the hoof is that?”

The mare’s attention was locked on the black shorts Derek held lamely. “A… swim suit? What do you go in the water naked or… aw crap.”

“Humans wear clothes ALL the time? Doesn’t it get uncomfortable? Don’t you need breathing room… um… down there, ahaha?”

“It’s called going commando or free-ballin’. But we always got pants on. Our society works that way. How can you reveal yourself all the time? Don’t stallions, or even mares give ya the eye?” he permitted Minuette to sling herself onto his back. Clutching her hind legs as they rested just above his waist, and allowing her fore legs to coil his neck, she was a plushy backpack.

“Haven’t noticed anypony checking me out… not on my show either.” She pouted into his shoulder jokingly as they entered the elevator. “Do you get checked out?”

“Uh, don’t think so. Not that I’d want them too. Think most of ‘em are, for lack of a better word—fake. Y’know what I mean? So anypony in ponyville never asked you out? Gala wasn’t your thing?”

“Hehe, you said anypony.”

“Shut up.”

They shared a faint chuckle. Derek sauntered out of the hotel and jogged on the sidewalk. Myrtle Beach wasn’t far, but he still didn’t want anyone catching him outdoors at night.

“Nope… I talk to a ton of ponies… I don’t know why I’m not attractive,” she sighed.

“Hey come on now, lighten up. You probably need to interact with guys a little more, we’re kinda stupid, a pretty girl comes up to us and starts a conversation we think we hit the jackpot.” He heard her heartbeat pound way faster.

“Those girls on TV… I noticed females have these… balloons? I noticed these balloons under their outfits that match their skin. Do you think if I bought them I’d have better luck in the field?”

“Tch, what’re you thinkin’? You don’t need those. That’s so typical. Girls… trust me your body is not the problem.”

“Then what is?” she cried.

“I don’t know.” An audible moan was elicited from his little backpack. “If I was a pony I’d be attracted to you. But I have morals and ethics. Which is more than I can say for most humans. I may be a bit judgmental, but I’m certain anybody else would have assaulted you somehow.”

“Are we there yet?” she grumbled.

“There it is…”

The large, dense, urban area they had left was stocked with millions of dreaming people, glammed up to enjoy their sleep peacefully. As Derek looked up he could see a thousand stars and constellations. The world was dark, and the city lights that used to stretch for miles brimmed with only a slight glow.

Derek released his companion as soon as he felt the soft sand between his toes. “Sharks are more likely to feed at night. You sure ya wanna… and she’s gone.”

Minuette galloped into the water like she was in the Running of the Leaves. She threw the wet, brown sand with the cusp of her hoof. Splashing madly about in the shore, giggling like a baby. Heart warming. The anti-social joined her.

And through Derek’s recovered innocence he discerned the innocence in the Maya blue filly. So easy it could’ve been to exploit her—to ravage the sweet mare when she awakened in his bed. But Derek didn’t abuse her. He was stronger. He claimed responsibility and custody over her… would someone else have done different. Would an older man or woman just get the problem out of the way and do what they thought was necessary? Would someone younger have rejected responsibility and embrace the sudden change in their life eagerly. Not many would put something like her under house arrest. Instead, Derek took his time… he believed those who improved with age embraced the power of personal growth and personal achievement and began to replace youth with wisdom, innocence with understanding, and the lack of purpose with self-actualization. If only he could practice what he preached. Where he lived… nobody was innocent. He was convinced every single man, woman and child were scumbags that only bred more trash. Yes, Derek unfairly hated any man with an arm-long tattoo or a backwards cap. Bad company is as instructive as licentiousness. One makes up for the loss of one's innocence with the loss of one's prejudices.

“Hey, kid you aren’t supposed to be in the water!”

Derek lost his footing at the sound of the husky voice. Minuette was smart enough to shroud herself in her hood and face the opposite direction. The delinquent needed to keep her from being discovered. He recognized Officer Cox as he got closer.

“Sorry man! I—“

The chubby patrolman brusquely waved a hand and lowered his head. “No need for explanations Derek. Someone who lives on the edge must tread close to the shore too. But boy, why’re you swimming at this hour?”

Was this guy old, fat and blind? Derek never touched the water, he only observed Minuette from offshore.

“I, uh—haha! I wasn’t swimin’ bro. You’re talkin’ ‘bout my friend’s daughter! See I was babysitting and she got outta’ my sight. Won’t happen again I can promise you that.”

The officer twirled his big red mustache with his index finger. “Son, don’t make this worse for yourself, I don’t see no kid. No need to lie y’know? Look your dripping with salt water, your hood is drenched boyo!”

“…What? I… what is this?” Derek’s entire body was shaking wildly. The cold ocean water matted against his tan skin. Sand in the corner of his eyes. He had the wet black hoodie he had given to Colgate clinging to his muscles. He turned to where Minuette was… she was gone.

“Why you’re gonna catch pneumonia out here… hey bud… somethin’ wrong?”

Run. Run back. Retreat. The free-runner sidestepped Cox and bolted back to the sidewalk.

On the way back Derek witnessed strange things… unnatural, illogical events. Heard something, a noise, like TV static. Such oddities happening in the jubilant city, hardly any time to acknowledge them. Static drummed in the teenager’s ears. It hurt. It pained him to think. All he could do was run back to the safety of the Hampton inn.

Derpy Hooves rested atop a streetlight lazily, blinking rapidly. “Hiya Derek! Ummm… wh- why’re you running away?”

Applejack and Rarity snogging on a park bench, tongue wrestling as he darted past them powerfully. “Well howdy sugarcube!” AJ howled from behind him. “Care to join us?” came the question with an English manner.

The robust young man hurtled by Rainbow Dash pinning Twilight against an alley wall. “Wanna get in on some of this action, Derek?” RD shouted. Twilight commented too, “It could be used for future reference? I guess…”

He zipped in-between Lotus and Aloe, who were making out at the revolving doors. Raced away from the make out session of Vinyl Scratch and Octavia on the front desk. Belted to the elevator, which was occupied by Bon-Bon and Lyra. “Turn back,” they drawled ominously. “Running away will never make you free.”

“Leave me alone!” he snapped. Stairs were breaking with each step. Walls transmorphing and nearing each other like a giant waste compactor. Lights sporadically flickered on and off. Voices grated into him like the scratching of a chalkboard. “Turn back, turn back, turn back, turn back, turn back…”

His doorframe was vexed with blood and gore. And the ominous static grew noisier with every step.

He entered his apartment.

“Hi Derek!” Minuette greeted lightly. “I came back here soon as that big guy showed up, pretty lucky I got away without a hitch, huh?”

Everything was normal. No static. No other ponies. No broken world. Everything was A-Okay… nothing was wrong.

“Y-yeah…I knew you were clever,” He was hardly even aware of the fly that was buzzing around Einstein. “It’s all good.”

*~*~*~*

Thursday. Derek spent that afternoon dramatically reading fanfictions with Minuette after a direct order from the latter. They slowed down when the fic was negative, and sped up when things were good. The pony’s favorite authors were the regulars. Derek presumed this was because all of the established authors of the site were bat-shit crazy and out of his or her freaking mind. These motherfuckers' attitude and writing scared the shit out of them both. Blogs with the most bizarre, outlandish, oddball titles Derek ever saw in his existence. But contrary to those blogs and chapters lied deep, complex and interesting stories.

Fuckers manipulated people into thinking he or she was a complete moron when really, he or she is probably part of the illuminati.

Damn fun though. Minuette loved writers like that. Comedy, adventure, romance and human were at the peak of her interests. She was prone to overreact when a joke emerged, and then bawl her eyes out when a sad phase set in. The filly seemed to never dislike anything. Always pointing out what she thought was negative but quickly stated what she liked afterwards. In her opinion the thumbs up and thumbs down system was overrated, an unfair drawback that created a barrier between authors and readers. As she put it, “There should be a like option, and a super like option too!” She had such an optimistic view on the poorest of authors.

Derek rejected his regular dosage of clop. Fishing for a fic that would grab him by the balls and not let go until it was finished with him. Of course, the feature box would be the immediate choice right? Hell no. That trash was reserved for the idiots of the fandom.

The recalcitrant recluse opted to click away at the featured stories anyway; maybe they would surprise him this time? “Comedy, romantic comedy, second person romance, comedy, slice of life, adventure comedy, comedy, clop, second person romance comedy… again. And on the top down-vote chart… the human romance. Judgemental f—freaks.”

Nevertheless, they agreed on one thing that they mutually disliked. Which were the stories with too much description and not enough meat.

Derek was only about a quarter into chapter one of some random authors shipfic, “Yo, whoever wrote this is a boss! Look at this passage dude! Rainbow could feel herself moisten, Twilight's body was just too much … oh god here we go… She tried to turn away, but the flustered mare had her chin tilted so that she had no choice but to—oh no... lock her lips with the beautiful filly. Your turn Miss Minuette.”

“Kay,” she complied wearily whilst resting her cheek on her hoof. “Their tongues were wrestling for dominance, a heat building up between the duo… there was a yearning, mutual feeling for each other's… This guy's great! Marred by a thick, yellow sludge of semen, and layer upon layer of. That’s uh… a little disturbing!”

They read together till midnight.

Minuette’s mane bristled her companion’s neck, her snores teasing the inner of his ears. Derek would’ve knocked his cat off if he ever did this, but she was pretty docile. Didn’t need a ruckus at twelve o’clock PM.

Einstein seized his usual hangout on the arm of the couch. So the recluse was the only one left awake.

Quiet. Waves brought no crashes upon the shore. No car in drive. The beasts napped in their slunk nests silently. Relative peace eased itself into the city. Stars scattered about the skyline like glass shrapnel, divine moonlight cast down upon the deep ocean blue. Neon luminescence from the boardwalk’s renowned Ferris wheel made gorgeous white circles at a snail’s pace. The starry sea blended with the dancing city lights in total harmony.

Derek stood behind his glass pane wall to watch the spectacle with utmost immersion. He put his phones in, thinking that music would accompany the visual feast well. But when he pressed a song… nothing. He checked the volume; and it was maxed out. He pressed the reset button; but it wouldn’t budge. Weird. Derek was irked, but disregarded his iPod for the oceanic array. Wait a second. Minuette’s snore wasn’t making a sound. Had he gone deaf? Oh it was only a matter of time! Stupid, stupid, stupid, how did he let himself break his ears? He locked the volume at eighty percent!

Suddenly, his worrying was proven in vain when his phone rung from his pocket. It was Waylon again. Derek awnsered, “Yo Way, thought I was goin’ deaf man—couldn’t hear a thing. Lucky you called I guess… but for?”

What replied from the other end of the phone line would scar Derek forever. It was not Waylon’s voice that answered. It was a godly combination of three different voices speaking in perfect unison. From what he could tell it was a raspy old man, Waylon’s calm voice without the accent, and a child. “So you do remember me,” It said warmly. “Don’t you think it odd that when I call, you usually never pick up? And when you rarely call me, I always do… peculiar.”

“Dude really… th-this some kind of prank? Got a voice changer or somethin’?” He stopped, petrified as he saw something unnatural in every fathomable way. About a mile out from the shore Derek spotted a bright character dressed in a snow-white t-shirt, silver sweat pants, and brilliant wavy blonde hair.

The stranger was walking on water towards the Hampton inn. The figure stopped, it appeared as if the specter was having a conversation with someone on its cell phone.

“Wh-what the… oh fuck! What the fuck is that?” Derek dropped his phone in horror as the wraith looked up at him from the starry deep, the apparition waved from afar.

The voice continued to whisper into Derek’s ear despite the latter’s lack of a cell. “You okay bud?” The phantom hung up and put its phone away, but continued whispering, “You sound like somebody just put the fear of God in you… hehehehe.”

The unbeliever was paralyzed. He couldn’t look away from the glowing country boy approaching the sand. Rippling the tides with each stride.

“Feel like talking this time?” the voice asked softly.

“Y-you’re… Waylon… how did I… I—“

“Oh I apologize.” The godly figure allocated his arms to the air. “Would you prefer a different form?”

Derek blinked. In that split second a massive, golden lion replaced the man, prudently grazing the sea; casually dipping it’s claws below the salty water. “I do enjoy this form, though it does make me look a bit prideful… oh no, I’ve got a good one, ready?”

The delinquent blinked again, the lion had morphed into a beautiful white alicorn, yes, that alicorn. No expenses spared, the mane, the wings, the huge horn too. It’s speaking altered to Celestia’s strong feminine voice. “As my children would say—pretty bitchin’! That is the term correct? Oh why am I asking you? I already know. I’m the Lord after all! Hehehe… sometimes I crack myself up.”

Princess Celestia splashed about—laughing maniacally. “But my child,” her murmurs were grim and foreboding. “You are confused. I will cut this short Derek. I’m here to give you a choice… and a warning. But firstly, and I need you to be honest with me here, do you love Miss Minuette?”

Derek thought, “No, I want her out as soon as possible.”

“Liar,”

“It’s not a lie.”

“Thou shalt not tempt the lord… you care for her more than you do yourself. Look inside. You know I'm correct.”

“My feelings belong to me, and me alone.”

“Petulant, selfish child. The sun is upon us. Now listen carefully. Minuette’s time on Earth is at an end. When she leaves I fear you will be overcome with grief and deliberately take your own life. Please change your ways my son. If you refuse to have faith and refute the knowledge that I am always here, you will certainly succumb to your dark side. I know you had to find out why I brought her here? Well... she was just as alone as you were. No stallion ever gave that poor filly the light of day! Nopony gave a damn when she disappeared, she's what she is, a background character! Nothing more... and nothing less. But not you. You have the right to choose a different road. You have free will... she was a cartoon, she never had such a choice! Now is the time to accept responsibility! Take everything you learned when you were with her and take it in stride!”

“A background character... maybe," he gritted his teeth. "She might've been just a background character, but in these few days she was happy, I could tell. So I don't care what you think she is... because to me she's the smartest, kindest, cutest girl I've ever met! She's my little pony. And you're, tch, you're nothing. You have no business interceding with us. And if you touch one hair on her mane, I'll destroy you! Why? Why was she here in the first place? You’re not God, he wouldn’t do this.”

“Might not be! I could be a manifestation of your conscience. Might be your depression catching up to you. Could be just a dream. Hell, maybe you’re just insane… which do you want to believe in. It’s all up to you. Is Miss Minuette real? Or but an illusion you fathomed in the back of your mind as a protocol for when you went off the deep end?” She pointed at him.

Derek peered into the glass in front of him. Instead of his reflection he saw himself bare naked, with horrible red eyes, blood pouring out of its mouth and ears, and a horrendous black aura. “Remember me… you pathetic waste of space?”

The delinquent shrieked as the ghost reached its lurid hand towards him.

*~*~*~*

Einstein’s whiskers twitched forebodingly. His captor never went web surfing in the morning with any kind of ruckus. However, instincts never failed the tom before; he had confidence in his abilities, even though he considered them useless ever since he was confined to a dinky apartment forever and ever. Curse that bipedal giant! What was he on about? Einstein’s nose convulsed as soon as he whiffed the air. There was a distinct scent, musk… a stench of despair. Sure, that smell was normal and ever-present but not with such an amount of sharpness or magnitude.

The lazy calico ascertained his position and pounced onto the ceiling fan, staring at the bedroom door apprehensively. Sounded like hell itself behind the wooden frame. He used to conventionally hope that master wouldn’t kick him. But coupled with the sounds of snapping chairs and broken machines… Derek could kill him.

“Colgate!” the maniac’s stifled wail reverberated off of the windowpanes. “Where are you? Stop screwing around! Where are you hiding? God… I’m sorry Colgate—I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m not gonna hurt you!”

Einstein jabbed his forepaws into his aching ears. He couldn’t even caterwaul, lest he get some household object hurled at his cranium.

“Colgate, please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean all those mean things I said before!” The deranged Derek stormed into the living room. Bearing a cracked iPod, the delinquent’s inhales and cries filled the room. Quivered his lower lip, inflamed breaths and teary eyes made his terror very apparent to the callous cat. He had a blue collared shirt and black shorts, his hair unkempt and trashy.

“No… no not now! You promised that for the week…” he wheezed. “You didn’t keep your promise. You didn’t… oh God… oh God I need you!” He bit his fist, beating back the tears. “I’m sorry I rejected you! I didn’t hate you! Jesus, I’m so sorry! Oh God.” He turned his attention to the sky. “Where are you Waylon? Where the hell are you? Show yourself you coward! Dammit, bring her back! I’m talking to you now so answer me! ANSWER ME!” he began screaming at his phone. “Pick up! I want her back! Please! I love her… I love her so much… don’t so this. The message got through, I learned morals, I won’t be such an asshole to my teachers, or Officer Cox, or anyone anymore! Just bring her back to me… Waylon don’t do this.” He collapsed into a fetal position on the soft couch. “I’ll do it myself… do it… by my rules.”

The delinquent’s expression regressed into a calm, lukewarm stare. A numb feeling encroached on his arms and legs; mist enshrouded his eyes in a subtle veil, heartbeat slowed itself in seconds. For some reason, Derek couldn’t look away from the ocean. Like the abyss was calling his name, the crashing waves beckoning him to meet the blessed marine life that could swim forever. The sunshine inviting and enticing, every ripple whispering a tune of it’s own.

“Just… one last thing,” he said as he picked his cell back up. “Forgot to say this.”

*~*~*~*

“Hey there bud!” Dom ruffled his little sister’s long hair teasingly. “Whatcha watchin’?”

“You’re skipping school again? You’re such an idiot!” she harrumphed. “My Little Pony’s on. Nothing else to watch y’know?” She hid the remote under a nearby pillow.

“Which one?” he asked, eagerly sitting upright when the commercials ended.

“Show’s almost over dude… it’s the one with the Pinkie sense.”

Dom smiled. “Feeling Pinkie Keen! That’s a good one. What’re we at the moral now? Damn, sucks that you gotta go to school while I get to see another episode!”

They both shut their mouths respectfully when Twilight started talking, the moral was as blatant and clear as ever, so even morons like Dom could get the picture. This was his favorite part of the show, the message and group laugh. Gave him a fuzzy feeling every time. He ignored the incoming call temporarily just to get Twilight’s speech in his system.

Twilight touched the letter in Spike’s claws, getting the dragon back on track. She went on to report her findings to the great Princess Celestia about what she had learned. In an innocent, but thoughtful tone she delivered her line. “I am happy to report that I now realize there are wonderful things in this world you just—can’t explain. But that doesn’t necessarily make them any less true. It just means you have to choose to believe in them. And sometimes… it takes a friend to show you the way.”

Dom answered the phone. He was shocked to see that it was Derek calling.

“Hey,” he drawled.

There was a brief silence. “Yo,” came from the other end. “How ya doin’?”

“Summer’s almost here… feelin’ good. You’re okay right?”

“I’m no bitch. Listen dude, you’ve always been a good friend. That goes a long way… I’m sorry for all the things I said before. I never hated anyone, hated society. Society's so fucked up... it's all fucked up! And I'm no different. Encouraging peoples flaws and preferences... I can't dude. I can't. Sorry.”

Dom rolled his eyes. “Yeah… you got it. Why did you call now all of a sudden dude? Did something happen? We can chill later dude, I cut class.”

“No, no… My summer vacation’s starting a little early… I think it’s a good day for a swim.”

“It usually is!” Dom professed. “Well if that’s all you wanted to say, I forgive you bro. I’ll catch ya later.”

“Yeah, seeya.”

Dom hung up. He spotted a fly on the TV screen—still and motionless.

His sister slung her backpack over her shoulder and looked at the insect with disgust. “Can you kill it?”

“It ain’t botherin’ anybody,” He said. “Don’t give it any mind.”