Robotbob and the French Bread
*RUSTLE RUSTLE*
As the wild Robotbob awakened from his deep slumber, he heard a rustling downstairs, and he realized that this time it was not his jimmies.
*RUSTLE RUSTLE*
The rustling came again, even louder this time. It sounded as if someone- or something- was going through his kitchen. He gulped. Could it be... ZOMBIE PONIES? No, no, it couldn't be zombie ponies....
Or could it?
*RUSTLE RUSTLE*
Bob looked for something to defend himself with. There! A stick! Why did he have a stick in his room? Even Bob had no idea. It was probably just for the sake of keeping the story going.
As he crept down the stairs, stick in his mouth, Bob noticed the time: 3:15 in the morning. He poked his head through a doorway and saw a light coming from the kitchen. It was his refrigerator light. Apparently this was not zombie ponies. Unless zombie ponies liked hamburger at 3:15 in the morning.
*RUSTLE RUSTLE*
Bob was getting more nervous with every step. He walked through the kitchen door, and suddenly the fridge door closed, and Bob saw who had been in his food supply. Without thinking, he smashed the stick across the mysterious pony's head and it fell down. He hit it again and again and again until he was sure the pony was unconscious. Breathing heavily, Bob got a good look at the pony's face. It was Radiogenicpony.
"Crap" Bob sighed. He grabbed Radio and dragged him up the steps, the poor unconscious pony's head hitting against every step. "What did I tell you about these late night snacks?" He went into Radio's room and plopped him on his bed.
He couldn't wait until that pony finally found a job and moved out.
