"Okay, screw it!"-I toss my headset to the desk and slam my keyboard. "That's it, I'm done!"-I can hear my teammates laugh uproariously at my rage quit, but I don't really give a damn. It's always me charging the enemy lines and to surprise of absolutely no one, I'm also the first to go down and miss all the fun. I kick my computer block aiming for power button but miss completely and only succeed in hitting the table with my toe. Proving to be a quick learner, I simply turn the machine off. By pulling the plug. All of this gaming was actually merely a distraction from something I knew was coming-something I kept putting off by occupying my mind with anything at all in order to avoid that one thing. This less than stellar end to my stress relief session was not helping matter. For I had to face the tedium that is weekend cleaning.
Grumbling about my defeat and sore toe, I walk to the corridor, take a broom and start half-heartedly sweeping the floor in the corridor. Just as I was about to move into rooms, I hear a rapping sound at the entrance. It is weird, since I have a door bell, and the only one who knocks is my neighbor from the apartment below. Usually when I leave water running in the bathroom and she claims I'm trying to drown her cats because water sips through tile cracks.
Peering through the eye hole the first thing I note is that it's dark on the level. And that's when my first alarm bells start ringing-our house is not exactly prestigious, but we never had any problem with the lights. So, I can safely assume that whoever's on the other side of the door is using a palm to keep me blind.
"Who's there?"-unconsciously, I grip my broom a little harder. That thing is far more sturdy than most people expect and might come in handy as... Something. I wasn't thinking clearly.
"Hello? Zecora, is that you?"-unmistakably female voice, teenage. Pranksters?
"You've got the wrong home"
"Zecora, open up! You've been gone for almost a week now, we're getting worried!"
Okay, definitely pranksters. Only those idiots are that persistent. Well, them, and those 'do-you-want-to-hear-how-god-will-save-us-all' kinda guys. It seems it's time to play a little prank of my own-I shift my grip on the broom so I can hold it horizontally at my waist level and prepare my best Vader impression before swinging the door open.
The first coherent thought that runs through my mind is "This is not my house". The second was to go and tell that junkie from the apartment to the left to stop feeding his cannabis with steroids-the whole place is overgrown! And then comes the realization that he's probably burning half his stock right now and I'm hallucinating. I'm apparently standing in the middle of a doorway in a tree. To the left and right of modern steel door is bark-and to my right is a set of african-looking masks. It also appears that I'm somehow in the middle of a forest-dark and creepy, with weird looking plants all over, while still standing in a middle of my corridor's doorway. I glance over my shoulder and see my coat rack-yup, definitely my home in the middle of a forest. I wonder if my electrical stove is still working...
"Um..."
I can feel hairs on my neck begin standing up. There is someone, or something right in front of the doorway-something that's either below my eye level, or invisible. God, let it be something small, fluffy, cute and harmless! I slowly lower my gaze and see a little purple unicorn staring at me.
It blinks. I blink.
It's still there, still a small purple unicorn. Yup, definitely high-although that's quite an imagery. I wonder what it says about my mental state? That would make for an interesting trip to a psychologist. 'Hello, doc, I kill people in video games in my spare time, and apparently I'm also seeing purple unicorns standing in dark forests whenever I get high or drunk!'.
"Uhm... Hello?"-I can see its mouth move. It's absolutely surreal-seeing something that's not human and yet speaks so clearly. Tripping balls or not, I can't help but stare at it in wonder-it's first contact! Even if it's just a long overdue one with my head.
It blinks. I blink. Somewhere to the left I can hear crickets.
"My name is Twilight Sparkle," it ventures, if somewhat hesitantly. It's face is surprisingly easy to read-confusion, fear, curiosity... At that moment I decide to just say "screw it, let's see what happens", roll with the changes and refer to the unicorn as a female. I've never been on drugs, and never plan to, but since I am high anyway, why not have some fun?
She falls silent after that little attempt at conversation while I still stand there. In a half opened doorway to my apartment. Wearing a pair of yellow shorts and a tank top. Gripping a broom with a single hand while using the other to lean a bit against doorframe. In the middle of a forest, facing off against a purple unicorn.
She blinks. I blink.
"So... Uh... Sir?"-Twilight continues somewhat even more hesitant then before, if that was even possible. After my slow nod, she continues-"I was here looking for my friend... See, she used to live here, in this very tree..." She once again drifts off into awkward silence, and it takes me about half a minute to realize just what tree she's talking about. More blinking happens. She tries to continue her previous thought: "Well, if she moved out, didn't she leave any note, or tell you where she was going?" The unicorn is slowly building up speed of speech, and with it grows her resolve, "Everfree is a dangerous place, and I'd like to be sure that she's alright..." By that point, her pose is much less relaxed-she looks like she's over the initial shock and is ready for a conversation. The same cannot be said for me.
I blink. She looks at me expectantly. I'm pretty much sure that I'm hallucinating. I start slowly shutting the door in her face-that's enough crazy for today. However, door gets stuck halfway and I can see it faintly glowing some sort of ethereal pink color-the same color that surrounds the horn of miniature horse standing on my welcome mat. "Please, I just want to see her! Is she still here?" Unicorn's eyes are practically begging for me to tell her that her friend is okay, that I didn't skin her and eat the meat. I, however, only see the pink glow, and panic.
Now, a little bit of interlude-I grew up in a country side with the most kickass granny EVER. Literally. That was her favorite pastime, regardless of people she was kicking. I've once personally seen granny beat the crap out of lousy burglar with a broom-by the time police got from town to our house, he was pleading with them to take him to prison and away from 'she-devil'. The same broom I was holding at the moment. This is no cheap plastic trash you'd find in modern stores-sturdy as the very oak it was carved from, this stick has more tales to tell than how-to-basics kitchen counter. Well, instead of a big'n'tough robber I had a small cute purple unicorn who was currently using some sort of warp power to hold my door ajar. I understandably panicked. Completely understandably. What happened next I remember almost as if it happened in slow motion. I swung my broom around to bring the business end (the one with the mop) above unicorn's head and, holding the thing with my right hand for leverage, flicked the handle up with my left. I could hear the resounding 'crack' from the hit and saw mop fibers go all over Twilights face before she slumped down. Ouch, I was not the one hit, and my dignity still suffered. The force of impact was enough for me to lose my grip on my trusty weapon and send it flying-hey, I never fought before, let alone with a broomstick! I quickly rush over to check up on her-no cracks as far as I can tell, a little bit muddy, but that can easily be remedied. After that, I turn towards the unconscious unicorn. She seems unharmed as well, but I can tell she'll have a wicked headache when she wakes up.