Spike nervously approached the door taller than two ponies stacked on top of each other.
The massive house it led to was fairly new, constructed with truly remarkable speed, considering how custom-tailored it had to be. It looked radically different from most of the happy little abodes of Ponyville, with noticeably thicker walls, double-paned windows and a roof covered with actual shingles instead of straw. In the middle of the otherwise rather typical street, it stuck out like a sore thumb.
After some hesitation, he exhaled sharply and knocked on it twice.
He waited.
He waited a little more.
No one answered.
Spike leaned his head against the sturdy oak surface and listened. Heavy bass thumping could be heard from the other side, loud enough to make the windows rattle ever so slightly.
"Oh, come on..."
He knocked again, with much more force this time.
The thumping remained at the same volume, but the young dragon could now hear someone shouting over it from inside the house.
"...Mr. Rich please! I mean you're my landlord and shit, but it's like the third time..."
"Anonymous?"
With an audible grunt and some furniture creaking, the voice continued in a rather annoyed tone:
"...wife did not offer me any "alternative methods of payment", nor would I accept..."
The words could be heard clearer and clearer now as the house’s resident got closer. After some fumbling, a heavy "clack" came from the lock, and the door opened just wide enough to peek through. The previously muffled pounding immediately turned into low-tuned electric guitar riffs, accompanied by what could be described as reckless bass drum abuse and truly foul-sounding throat screaming.
A familiar head stuck itself outside, looking not unlike a watermelon covered in stubble with a hairy mop on top of it.
"...and frankly, don't understand how someone like you could marry such a b~ Oh, what's up little guy?"
Spike got a little blindsided by the greeting, still trying to make sense of what the human was saying before, staring at him awkwardly for a second before responding in kind.
"Um, uh, hey Anonymous..."
"Geez Spike, no need to be so formal. I've been around for, like, what, three months now? Just call me Anon, man."
"Oh, okay! No problem Anon!"
The (mostly) hairless ape-thing known as Anon has now stepped out of his house, looking at his visitor with a somewhat amused but friendly smile. He has barely changed since he first appeared in Ponyville, barring the slightly longer hair. His clothes remained exactly the same too – at some point he just cut down the pantlegs and completely removed the sleeves, presumably so that the garments could double as housewear. Anon caught on to the advantages of a society not too concerned with apparel fairly quickly, although Spike had yet to ask him why he felt the need to wear anything at all. He did want to ask that as soon as Anon crashed on Twilight’s guest couch after she found him lost and confused on the outskirts of town, but the unicorn cut him off, saying it might be impolite and inappropriate. Sure enough, the next morning she had prepared a whole notebook of impolite and inappropriate questions to ask their guest, while Spike was busy making dinner for three.
Still, the curious dragon got most of the answers he wanted from Anon himself, who didn’t mind entertaining Spike with tales of his rather weird home dimension. From stories it went to an occasional casual conversation, and before too long Twilight’s faithful assistant has come to really enjoy Anon’s company. For some reason Spike just felt more relaxed around the guy than anyone else he knew, possibly because his laid-back nature was a welcome change from the ticking anxiety time bomb that was Twilight. It was nice sometimes to forget about daily bothers and just chat idly about everything and nothing.
Spike’s current problem too has escaped his mind for the moment.
"There ya go. So what brings you here so early?"
"Uhh... Last time I checked, it was 12 AM."
"Huh. You'd think with my sleep schedule I wouldn't be surprised."
The little drake chuckled heartily at that. He himself was keen on sleeping in on his chore-free days, and it seemed like every day was a chore-free day for Anon.
"The Princesses are still sending you bits?"
"Honestly, Spike, if something like this happened to me back home, I'd feel like I was cheating the system."
Before Anon's arrival, Spike has never even heard of "The Equestrian Endangered Species Welfare Fund".
"Anyway, you wanna come in?"
"Yeah, for sure!"
The huge house was bathed in dark shades of orange from Celestia's sun trying to penetrate the tightly shut curtains. Well, huge for Spike, it was pretty small for Anon, and while a little empty and more than a little grimy, it definitely had its own homey atmosphere. As soon as the dragon stepped in, he felt the air become thicker, both from the heat and from the low-frequency vibrations still coming from the subwoofer.
Does Anon ever open his windows?
Spike didn't mind the heat though, his reptilian body welcomed it, in fact. The heavy, primal music also reminded him of something deep within his soul that had been there since before he was hatched.
"Whatcha listening to? Is this new?"
"Not exactly new, but I haven't heard this stuff in ages, and man have I missed this."
It took a bit for these words to click.
"Wait... So do you mean this is..."
"Music from my homeworld, yeah! I still cannot believe Vinyl somehow reverse-engineered my Walkman, I could kiss her right then and there..."
Spike was not sure what a "Walkman" was, but the sound was really having an effect on him. Never before has he heard something so vicious, almost evil, but at the same time immensely satisfying. Unlike most songs Spike knew, this one didn’t really have any melody to speak of, but there was a pulsating rhythm to it, relentless and strong enough to reach into his soul…
"You feeling it too buddy?"
The little dragon snapped back to reality, realizing he's been unconsciously bobbing his head back and forth for about a minute now.
Damn, that must have looked really stupid.
Spike grinned sheepishly.
"Heh, sorry, it's just..."
"Sorry for what? Getting into the groove? It's what the music's for, dude! No shame in enjoying it."
"I-I guess so... It sounds really cool. I don't even know how to describe it, just so... It's like nothing I've heard in my life."
"Well, definitely hits harder than most local stuff. I mean, those griffons sure know how to play their guitars, but their songs are so, like, 50 years ago. And sometimes you just need something to crank up really loud, you know?"
"Twilight doesn't want me to crank anything up loud, even when she's not studying. She says I'll go deaf if I do."
"Hey, now that's just entirely untrue! I've been doing it for over ten years, and my right ear only rings when I try to sleep!"
A loud snort escaped Spike's nose in response to that comment. If Twilight was here, she would give Anon a stern lecture on the importance of taking breaks and wearing earplugs. He would, in fact, need earplugs for that one.
"So..."
Anon flopped down on the couch, a small cloud of dust escaping its innards.
"...You still haven't told me what's got you so nervous today."
Oh, right…
Spike twiddled his thumbs hesitantly, looking somewhere to the side.
"Well... I kinda... sorta need some help."
"No problem. Spit it out, little guy."
The human invitingly patted a spot on the couch next to him, and the drake quickly climbed the somewhat coarse, but cosy velvet cushion, while Anon fiddled with the little box connected to his speakers, making the music quiet enough to comfortably talk over it.
Taking in some air, Spike let out a big sigh.
"Alright, so..."
Before he could say anything else, there was a curt, polite knock on the door.
"Oh no, I think it's them!"
"Who?"
"Please hide me!"
Sometimes a good friend doesn't need to ask questions.
"Get behind the couch, it's a little dusty in there, but..."
"Okay!"
With the grace of an Olympic pole vaulter, the drake dove behind cover.
Turning the music back up just in case, Anon walked over to the door, ready to face whatever horror had his little friend running for his life.
"Anonymous? I know you're in there, please don't keep a lady waiting!"
He'd recognize that sing-song voice anywhere. Sure enough, standing on his doorstep was Rarity, in the company of three young fillies Anon very vaguely remembered.
"Good..."
The white unicorn's muzzle scrunched up for a brief moment at the combination of sights and sounds she was presented with all at once. It took all of Anon’s heroic resolve not to giggle like an idiot at the sudden pause.
"Good afternoon Anonymous, darling. I hope you find yourself well on this wonderful sunny day. I... see you are still sticking to your... unique fashion sense."
"What can I say, if it's not broken, don't fix it."
Whatever Rarity had to say in response to that almost made her vibrate a bit, but she quickly regained her composure, the proper lady that she was.
"You do remember my offer, right?"
"Yes Rarity, I do remember. But you gotta understand, I simply have no use for a three-piece suit with my lifestyle."
"No us... How c... Never in my..."
The fashion horse had to stop herself for a quick breathing exercise. Talking to Anon was at times not very beneficial to her mental health.
The fillies snickered quietly to themselves at the amusing display. The little pegasus one tried to look past Anon's legs and into the house, clearly intrigued by the music.
"Do you have a live manticore in there Mr. Anonymous?"
"Nah, I'm not married yet."
Anon couldn't help but grin at his admittedly shitty joke that nevertheless had the kids laughing, out loud this time, for a solid minute. That seemed to be enough to also bring Rarity back to the land of the living.
"Girls! That's just uncouth! Same goes to you, Anonymous!"
"Relax, didn't mean nothing by it. I don't think any manticores are gonna be too offended by this o~"
"ANYWAY, we come here looking for our little Spikey. Have you seen him, by any chance? I know he likes to..."
The unicorn lingered for a moment, as if trying to avoid using her next phrase.
"...hang out with you."
"Well, he did come over earlier..."
Even through the squealing guitar solo, Anon could hear some frantic scrambling behind the couch.
"...but he's no longer here. What do you want him for anyway?"
"Oh, nothing. It's just that Sweetie Belle and her friends are starting their own beauty magazine..."
"We're all gonna be models!" – the little off-white unicorn beamed with immense pride in her voice that was hard not to find adorable.
"I wanted it to be an extreme sports magazine."
The pegasus filly was quickly becoming Anon's favorite though.
"...AND they wanted to have a male model as well. You know, for diversity."
Uh oh. This can't be good.
"And... what are you gonna be modeling?"
"Well, the girls wanted to model clothing, but unfortunately, such things take time to make, and I don't have anything suitable for them at the workshop. So..."
The one who Anon figured out to probably be Sweetie Belle chimed in again:
"We're modeling makeup!"
Must protect little dragon at any cost.
"O...kay then. And... did Spike agree to this?"
"Agree?"
"Yeah, you know, agree to have his makeup-covered face to be plastered all over some renegade print fashion rag that is gonna be distributed all over town?"
"It's not a rag, we're using real paper, and~"
"Sweetie, please, hold that thought. Anonymous, what exactly are you implying by this?"
Fuck it, we're headed to war.
"What I'm implying is that the little guy clearly has a crush on you, everybody knows it, you know it, and yet for some reason sometimes you conveniently forget it to get him to do stuff he may not want to do."
A groan and a thud could be heard from behind the couch. Anon almost felt sorry he had to bring up Ponyville’s biggest open secret, but he was sure by this point even Spike himself knew how obvious his affection was. Plus, it looked like Rarity was actually stumped by this statement. The fillies too have gone quiet, listening intently to the new development.
"W-well, I..."
"Did Spike agree to model makeup?"
"B-but a lot a stallions wear makeup these days!.."
"Show me one in Ponyville."
"...There are two in Canterlot!"
Despite her protests, Anon could see that he made a dent in Rarity's confidence.
A brilliant idea crossed his mind.
"Besides..."
He turned to the three fillies, putting on his best advertiser voice.
"...You've already got the best possible model right here!"
The previously quiet yellow one peered up at the human:
"What do ya mean, Mr. Anonymous?"
"C'mon girls, who can sell your budding periodical paper better than Ponyville's very own high fashion icon!"
Rarity's pupils shrank visibly.
"HE'S RIGHT! HOW DID WE NOT THINK OF THAT!" – Sweetie Belle's excited voice almost gave Anon tinnitus in his other ear.
Rarity began backing up slowly.
"Uhh, well, I'm not sure if it's entirely... if I..."
"Come on sis! It will be so much fun! I have so many ideas for eyeshadow! Like, it's only called "eyeshadow", why not use it on the other face parts!"
"Ah wanna put on the lipstick!"
"I'm gonna sit and watch."
Anon crossed his arms in satisfaction.
"Well, looks you've got a lot of work to do, Rarity. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna return to my party of one. See you around girls! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
"BYE MR. ANONYMOUS! THANK YOU MR. ANONYMOUS!"
The fashionista could only look at Anon helplessly as she was practically being dragged away by the three little bundles of enthusiasm. Something told Anon he was going to be wearing his old clothes for a very long time.
Slamming his door shut, the human slumped against it in complete exhaustion.
"Phew. That's more than enough social interaction for one day. Be it fucking Celestia or whoever, this door remains closed."
"Achoo!"
Oh shit, almost forgot he was still there.
"Come out Spike, the coast is clear!"
A purple blur darted out of the vile crevice, covering the carpet in dust bunnies, and latched itself onto Anon's leg.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyousomuch~"
"Calm down, kid. Said it's no problem."
Translation: "This is dangerously cute, but you don't need to hear that."
Finally, the dragon loosened his grip. It was clear from his face he had something else on his mind.
"But... Did you mean all that stuff you said?"
"Which part?"
"You know, about Rarity... using me."
The speakers fell silent as the album came to an end. Anon considered his next words for a moment.
"I can't really say anything bad about Rarity..."
Now saying stuff TO Rarity, that's a gamble.
"...but different peop... ponies see things differently sometimes. And you gotta remember that even if someone's your friend, you don't have to share all her opinions. Sometimes you have to put your foot down, even with your friends."
"Even girlfriends?"
Aw man, this poor kid.
"Even girlfriends. If someone loves you, she'll make sacrifices where necessary. It's clear you make a lot of 'em already. Doesn't hurt to remind others of what you do for them once in a while. You dig?"
Spike, who had been staring at his human friend with wide eyes, as if the meaning of life itself was unfolding before him, nodded eagerly.
"I... I think I dig."
"That's good. Because I'm not really good at these talks."
The unexpected earnest turn the conversation took made Anon feel really thirsty. He grabbed a tall can out of a grocery bag left by the door and opened it with a loud "psst". The sound seemed to have snapped the young dragon out of his own thoughts.
"Anon? How did you get so cool?"
Most of the drink ended up on Anon's shirt, while he bent over in a Jungle ExplosionTM-flavoured coughing fit.
Wiping away the liquid that tasted a bit better than it smelled, the human stared back at Spike with a small smile on his face. The dragon couldn't help but grin too, mostly at the silliness of the situation.
"You're a funny guy Spike, you know that?"
Anon reached down to affectionately pet the drake's head with his less sticky hand, making him chuckle a little.
"You want some of this? I got a couple more unopened cans, I think."
"Is that the soda that gives ponies heart attacks?"
So that's what growing up with Twilight is like.
"That's why I'm only offering you one."
"Sweet, thanks!"
Looking away for a moment to get the bag out of the way, Anon could swear he heard a sound of a rapidly unclogging sink before turning his attention back to Spike, now innocently holding a slightly crumpled empty can.
"Wow. Just..."
"BUUUEEERRRRP"
The smell of burning hair filled the air in the immediate vicinity of Anon’s face.
"Okay. Maybe don't do that anymore."
"Sorry, didn't~”
The drake didn’t finish, as his pupils rapidly expanded and contracted again like camera apertures.
“Woooaaahhh! Is that what Pinkie Pie feels like all the time?"
Immediately recognizing the symptoms of an incoming sugar high, Anon decided it was time for some quick damage control. It would be hard to explain to Mr. Rich why the house had a couple of structurally superfluous new windows.
"Hey Spike, I know you usually eat gems and stuff, but do you eat other food, like, you know, pizza?"
"Ooh, I love pizza!"
"Awesome. Let's go get some Pizza Herd, my treat. About time I got out of this house. If Purple Smart gets mad, I'll cover for you."
"Yeah! Let's go!"
Somehow the excited caffeinated dragon managed to jump high enough to hang onto Anon’s arm. It was evident from the widest, most infectious smile on his face that he was already picturing the tastiest thing imaginable. This was definitely the most childlike the human had ever seen Spike, and even he had to admit it was kind of heartwarming. With his new scaly arm accessory, Anon headed out into the evening Ponyville.
"Do you think they have chocolate toppings on pizza?"
Oh Twilight, I may have accidentally corrupted your stepbrother.
…
Wait, no, let me rephrase that~
Author's Note
This here was my little experiment in converting a greentext into a proper short story. Hope you enjoyed it!
