Anon and His Fillies

“What the name of my tight toned thighs is going on here?!” You screeched at the interlopers chowing down on YOUR food.

“Breakfast!” chirped one of the hellspawn from behind the couch. She was somehow or another found and managed to plug in the hotplate you bought. You gave her a scowl to hide the smile that so desperately wanted to shine from hearing that.

“It’s fire, my dude. Come chill with us on this kicking couch,” said another filly, reggae echoing off her voice.

These children, eating your food and sitting on your couch. ‘Angry’ couldn’t even begin to describe how pissed you were, but seeing as you were the only adult in the room, you had to keep your cool and set an example. Even if the example was for ponies you were sure had no social influence. You cleared your throat of the unearthly growl that had been building and wiped your brow, lips quivering as you tried to keep from screaming your head off. “Number one, breakfast was about five and a half hours ago and number two, why in the ever living fuck are you all sitting on my couch eating my food? How did you guys even find this place out of all the other houses in Ponyville?”

The second filly looked at you like you were retarded. “Why else bro? We’z hungry as fuck and came home to chill for a bit.” Hearing a pony swear so casually buffeted you, nearly knocking you to your feet.

“I-I’m sorry, come again?” You ask, hoping your ears didn’t deceive you.

“Bruh, clean out the shit and dirt from yer ears. The girls and I got hungry, so we was thinkin’ we’d stop by the house and pick up some snackage ‘fore headin’ out to fuck with Twilight and her friends,” said the Reggae pone. “Well, everyone ‘cept for one of us. She got to thinking you’d be pissed at us or something and hid somewhere in the back. Didn’t even bother eating anything, even though she’s hungrier than us horses.” She snickered at her own pun, receiving a high five/hoof from the filly sitting next to her.

“Pancakes are on, girls! Incoming!” shouted the filly behind the couch, jumping into the air and flicking a pan stacked full of said cakes of pan in your general direction. Cartoon physics aided her in landing three perfectly sized pancakes on a plate on top of the couch.

It was mesmerizing to watch as the cakes seemed to defy gravity and land one by one on top of one another, thin slabs of butter falling in place on top of each. Somehow even your bottle of syrup from the cabinets managed to land next to them and not spill off the couch. The filly cook even managed to do a flip and fling the pan she was using into the kitchen, just barely missing the sink and clattering onto the counter. Watching the scene unfold switched the rest of your anger into sheer awe at the skill the filly displayed. It took you a moment to take in what had just happened, but you couldn’t help but feel star-struck.

“Jesus fuck, that was the queen bee’s honey-flavored nipples! Encore, encore!” you cheered, clapping the entire time. It had been way too long since a pony impressed you and you felt that this filly, whatever her name was, deserved your hard-to-earn praise. Though your enjoyment quickly faded as the overweight hamster in your head had a heart attack whilst running on the wheel. Poor, sweet, and innocent Gerald.

Back to the matter at hand, or would it be hoof? Whatever the case, hoof or hand, it took more than a few seconds to process all the fillies had told you, which wasn’t much. But thanks to your OBVIOUSLY superior human intelligence, few words were all you needed to gather the clearer picture. And that picture was…

“Hol’ up midgets, stop eating for one god damned second,” you spoke calmly, which actually managed to get the three in front of you to stop. “What do you guys mean by ‘We came home’? I don’t remember moving into a house with tiny, albeit very cute and heart-wrenching, fillies. I think I, with my glorious and amazing brain would remember adopting you all. So if you all claim to live here…”

The sultry looking one flitted her eyes at you, blushing from your ‘cute’ comment. “Go on Darling, you’re almost there… It’s on the tip of your tongue.”

“That would mean that either A, you are all severe hallucinations and I broke into my own house like a tard, or B, you’re brain-washing magical parasites.”

The three fillies exchanged looks with one another, glancing between you and themselves before bursting into laughter like maniacs. It only re-ignited your anger at them for eating YOUR food. “Fuck are you cunts all laughing at? Those are the only two possible explanations for why I have three of you in my house!”

Your flustered anger only seemed to push them into even further laughing madness. The one filly cook even started to fall off the couch. Their chortles and chuckles tore at you like a tiger eating entrails. Children laughing was worse than their whining, even if the kids swore almost as much as you!

The cook managed to stifle her amusement for all but a second, but what came out of her mouth next shocked you beyond belief.

“Niggee, I can’t believe you haven’t realized who we are. We’re YOU, ya ridiculous dude! Why else do ya think we came ‘home’?” Her smile wavered for a second as she noticed you turning pale. “Mate? You’z okay looking kinda sickly there.”

You didn’t even give her a second look. Instead, you turned to your left and headed off to your bedroom to lie down, at disbelief that any of today could be real. Your brain felt like it was on fire, throwing the obesity hamster back onto the wheel with enough force to jumpstart auto-pilot. You walked down the hall and took another left to enter your bedroom, blindly ignoring your door already being open. Next thing you knew, your brain woke up to muffled screaming next to your green and black pillow.

Fuck, it wasn’t a dream, was it? Jesus Christ it’s going to be a loooong night...