"Are you sure your dad's cool with us coming over?" One Button Mash asked.
"Can't see why not. He doesn't really care about a lot of things." I said, shrugging as my friend Button looked cautiously at my house and then out towards town.
Rumble buzzed his wings haphazardly next to me, and I mean haphazardly as I just had to duck underneath one of his feathers flicking out at me as he surveyed his gaze over my front yard. "I mean, is he cool cool with us? I don't want to.. upset him, man."
I nodded again. "I'm serious, guys! He is probably the chillest guy you'll find in his town with these things!"
They both shared a look, then at me. "Are you sure?" They asked simultaneously. I rolled my eyes and groaned.
At one point does this not get on the 'racist' side of things? Sure, I had my mom's pristine white coat and even her light pink hair, with nice straight hair swept up in a nice modern pompadour hairstyle, akin to Rumble's, but my dad's exotic genes came with my eyes and the curved edge some of my teeth had. In fact, I still remember my first day of school when everypony wouldn't stop looking at my glossy pink eyes.
Apparently I'm a heart throb to the fillies.
I figured Rumble would've been the top dog, but word on the grape vine was that as-of-middle-school-starting, I was jumping the ranks.
Go figure.
Returning to the present, I had taken it upon myself to invite my two best friends- Rumble and Button Mash respectively. I brought academics and thinking to the table, Rumble brought the physicality to the table, and Button brought the games and snacks to the table. All-in-all, an unstoppable trio that rivaled that of the infamous Cutie Mark Crusaders that Button and Rumble found themselves fawning over when they thought I wasn't looking.
But I liked my A's and I liked my chair-coaching of my favorite sports on Sundays with them, even if it took Button a couple weeks of watching to get into.
But now? Today? Today, was going to be the day that they met the Godfather of all that is 'cool' and 'chill' about me! My dad! Everypony knows who my mother is, but none have seen the great Aspero in the flesh as frequently or as notably as her. If I hadn't inherited my dad's apathy to a lot of opinions, I would've been a crying wreck after hearing some nasty comments over the years about him.
However, we're here to the present day. Button Mash and Rumble would truly learn how great my dad is, and how they'll definitely want to swing around more and treat this house as a second home. I just know it.
And no, this isn't going to be one of those 'I-swear-on-it-and-then-everything-goes-wrong-and-now-the-rest-of-my-life-with-these-two-is-spent-trying-to-cure-them-of-some-random-trauma-they-got-from-my-dad'.
For real, I'm serious.
With a pinkish hue to my horn, the front door to the relatively average home unlocked itself and opened. The two lagged behind me as I bounded inside like a showpony, stomping my hooves on the laminated hardwood floors with a rapid rhythm.
I inhaled, and announced: "BUG! WE GOT COMPANY!"
From behind me, I heard the two hearts of my friends collectively crash and burn into the depths of their acidic stomachs with my use of such a profane slur against my own father. In what world did they just walk into?! Hah, who cares.
"Garage!" A male voice returned, followed by the clicking of a torque wrench. Without missing a beat, I motioned my two friends to follow me as they picked their jaws up off the floor. The front door closed behind me with a glow of my horn, and we traversed the nicely decorated living room of an obscene amount of wall flowers, scent sprayers and diffusers. At least the couch was L-shaped. That was nice to sleep on.
Weaving my way through the kitchen that connected to the said living room, I used my hoof this time to open the garage door, where I saw my dad almost hip-deep standing over our boat's engine area doohicky thing. Other tools were organized in a more personalized way around his hooves on the ground, and the washing and drying machines almost next to the door I just opened were rattling with life.
Such was the day off of my dad.
"Heard you got the day off today," I took a step down to the garage floor, making space for my friends to silently trot in as their ears ever so slightly angled themselves downward at the sight of brownish-reddish changeling... butt finagling a boat's engine.
"Apparently," my dad's voice and tone was typically laden with an air of sarcasm, mostly to be confused with condescension (as my mother calls it).
"How's the boat?" I asked, stepping over and hopping up on the edge of it, taking a look down at his narrowed pink eyes surveying the engine. A torque wrench was nestled in his grasp with both hooves, a fang escaping his lips as he clenched his teeth to crank the wrench.
"About as good as dog shit. What brings you in here anyways boy?" He asked, a fatherly smile directing itself my way before he refocused back on his work.
A smirk split my face, nodding backwards to my friends that he couldn't see behind me. "Brought some friends over. They're gonna watch tonight's game with us, maybe some dinner. What're you makin'?"
My dad hummed, pulling the wrench from whatever off-angle he had and pushing himself up and out of the boat. "Your brother 'n' sister should be home tonight. But you know how spotty they are." And his oily, sheeny face revealed itself to my friends, chipped horn and all included. He gave a curt nod and a disarming smile to Button and Rumble, who awkwardly smiled and waved back. "Hey buds, how y'all doing?"
"Good, Mr. Heart," Rumble murmured while Button stammered something along the same line.
"That's Rumble," I pointed to the nodding Rumble, "and that's Button. Button Mash." Button seemed to gather enough courage through his anxiety to get a shaky nod over at me, before realizing it was an introduction, and nodding even more rapidly at my dad.
"Nice to meet you guys. I'm Aspero, or just Red's dad if you wanna call me that. I'm easy." He smiled even bigger, placing the torque wrench on top of the engine. "For the record, I got the slow cooker goin' for some chili tonight. Y'all boys like chili?"
"Ye- Yeah. Chili's good, sir." Button stuttered, seeming to step closer to me for some protection.
Rumble's anxious mood seemed to lift at my father's.. more pony attitude. "Heck yeah, sir! I love chili!"
"Good. For the record, no beans in it." My dad gave a flat look at me. "We hate beans."
I nodded sagely while Button seemed to brighten at that revelation. "Me too! They're so weird!"
My dad pointed at Button, who flinched ever so slightly. "That's a stallion of culture right there. Keep that up and you'll fatten up 'round here."
Another wall of anxiety seemed to fall for Button, and his body language relaxed more into comfort as Rumble laughed, and I felt my heart get ever so warmer.
Yeah. I think they like him.
Author's Note
This should be a nice little thing to be 'actively' working on on top of my other two projects I've been building up.
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