Wait I'm a what...?

Chapter One: Finally, my wish came true…crap

It’s not easy being the middle child of the family. Especially when you’re taller than both your parents and siblings. My name is Alex, and I'm an average brony. Nothing special other than my beliefs and thoughts. I’m about 5’ 10” tall with dark, milky brown hair and have misty blue eyes that have a direct link to my… inner self. I’m nearsighted and have to wear glasses. I hate contacts.

“Ugh,” I grumble to myself as I step from the school bus onto the driveway of my house, “Last time I eat school meatloaf.” I follow my two sisters up the driveway and into our house.

The first thing my younger sister Shauna did, was throw all her stuff onto the floor and collapse on the couch lazily. My older sister Kaila, being the more responsible of them, went straight to her room and then proceeded to litter her floor with school junk.

I did the same as Kaila and put my stuff in my room. It filled with dirty clothes and old stuff from when I was a kid. “Man is I glad it’s Friday,” I exclaim as I stretched my arms, “I wonder what True is up to?”

True is my brony friend and possibly like an older brother to me. He is about a few inches shorter than me, and has dirty blond hair.

As I made my way to the computer I pulled out my phone and texted him to see if he was home. He was actually already on skype when I signed in and called me immediately.

“Oh hey bro,” said True, his voice well and clear.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Nothing really, just working on the Tube, tiring to get my demo reel together.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Hey Alex, you got your things ready for the weekend right?

"Uhh…Oh, obviously!” I said, sarcasm well in my voice”…one sec”

“Yeah I thought so. Look, I’ll clean up around the house, you do your thing. We’ll catch up afterwards.”

“Alright man, see you then”

“Ok man”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Perspective: True

I ended the call with Alex and stretched. Clothes and trash lightly littered my room. It wasn’t a room as much as it was a large closet, so there wasn’t much to dirty up. I picked up the few clothes, threw away the trash, and made my bed. A pink picture of Fluttershy was hanging above my bed. I think it’s utterly ironic that a guy, who has stacks of book on weapons, guns, and war and extensive knowledge on firing weapons, enjoys watching a show about small, colorful, ponies. Not that I would hide it either, it’s just most people aren’t bronies in the South, so it’s an assumption that I don’t like MLP. But I’ve met a few bronies at my collage, and most people say,”Wow! Really? Yow watch WHAT?” Then it becomes a “well you never asked…” moment.

After some time, I hear my house’s front door open. I knew Alex was coming by, but not this early. I walked into the living room area of my small trailer, a loaded weapon in my hand. When you live where I live, you tend to keep prepared. That’s something you learn in Boy Scouts. I open fired at the silhouette barging in my home.

“Good to know you knock, douche.”

A chuckle escaped his mouth, “Hey true, good to see you man.”

Alex stepped in, tall and skinny, taking off the Nerf darts that attached to his head. I swear I’ve never seen some one with such a lack of body mass. His unkempt brown hair seemed shaggier than usual.

“Nonchalant as ever, I see. You know if this was my Glock you’d be dead. Well, come in, have a seat, fatass.”

Alex was younger than I, and at times, ignorant as hell. We had complemented each other’s attributes however. His English was atrocious, but my math wasn’t any better, but I had high honors in English, while Alex’s algebra skills were second nature. So for education, we help each other.

We spent the evening eating, gaming, and goofing around. Hell, even had a burping contest. It was Memorial weekend, so we didn’t worry about collage. We were off Friday due to Hurricane Isaac being on the coast, so our homework was done. I was in the midst of cleaning my Glock when Alex told me he was going to sleep. I gave him the courtesy of sleeping in my bed. Once my weapon was no longer in pieces and dirty from the shooting range, a tuckered off to bed.

I woke before Alex, at about 5:30 am. I have ROTC to thank for training me to get up at this time on a regular basis. And it was difficult to sleep, regardless of my restlessness. The hurricane was loud throughout the night, and sleeping on a recliner didn’t help either, so I was groggy this morning. Alex, however, seem to have no issue sleeping, he was sound asleep, snoring even. I’ve never heard him snore.

I decided to get a shower and wait a little while until I got Alex up. After about 3 hours, I went into the room to wake him. I really wish I didn’t. I really, really, really, cannot emphasize enough how much I wish I hadn’t.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Perspective: Alex

I awoke to the sound of True opening the bedroom door. I felt strange. Oh boy did I feel strange. True only assured my strange feeling at what he said next.

“Hey, get your lazy ass up and out of my be-,” he began, “Oh shit is that fire?” He reached for the blanket and swiftly removed it. What lay underneath was supposed to be me.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Perspective: True

But instead, was a pony. I would be cool with that. But the fucker was on fire, ON FIRE! I yelled and the creature and it squealed and yelled back. My bed caught ablaze, as did the walls, roof, floor, and my books. My first thought was to kill the bastard; after all it just might stop the fire. I dint have a fire extinguisher or anything, and this was my home. The first time I see a real pony, from a little girls TV show I watch, a creature from another dimension, one that was created by the woman that wrote my childhood! And I want to kill the damn thing. Nearly did to, if it weren’t for the familiar voice of Alex.

I pulled my Glock and aimed at the Pony that was burning my room.

“WAAAAAAAAAAAIT! What are you doing!?” That was the voice that belonged to Alex. What the hell was it doing coming from that ponies lips. Or muzzle. Maybe this was a dream, and I was about to wake up, and Alex wanted me to get up out of the fire. Yeah…any second…

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Perspective: Alex

“WAAAAAAAAAAAIT! What are you doing!?”, I yelled staring down the sights of True’s Glock. He looked confused for a second and then shocked as the fire receded back to me…
Wait fire…?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Perspective: True

“Alright fucker! You’ve stop the trigger from being pulled for now! ,” I bellowed at what I still can’t believe I was seeing. I looked back a bit, but kept my eyes on the pony. I yelled to Alex, who I assumed was in the bathroom or something.

“ALEX! Hey!” I yelled back into the hallway.

“WHAT MAN!?” came the response. But it wasn’t from the hallway.
By now I was in shock. The words were undoubtedly coming from the pony. I didn’t want to believe it, I really, really, really didn’t.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?!?!” By now, I’m sure the whole damn neighborhood could hear me.

Alex the fucking pony said, “What’s going on?!”

“Well…” I began, putting back my Glock. “You’re a fucking pony.”

[insert title here]

Author’s note- Alex- this is written by two people me and another guy. This is going to be an epic story so stick around. Teehee.

Author’s note-True- Ok, our first time writing anything. And it’s about Ponies. Awesome. Anyway, my middle name is legitimately True. My first name, I won’t tell. I am 20 years old, and Alex is 19. I’m turning 21 in a few weeks, so booyah. Beer in one hand, a pony in the other, and my Glock 17 somewhere.