I am Treg
Not really sure what else to put here...
40w, 3dRandom thought. 10 comments · 168 views
45w, 4dSo, looks like Satan is ice skating to work today. 9 comments · 189 views
54w, 4dStep 1: Find Lyra 8 comments · 78 views
54w, 5dI am just realizing this.. 7 comments · 48 views
67w, 3dAbout my stories. 3 comments · 61 views
71w, 3dA question 26 comments · 68 views
71w, 6dSo I've been playing the Smite Beta 2 comments · 46 views
75w, 1dRegarding The Tale of the Stone-Turner 0 comments · 51 views
77w, 7hIf you haven't already... 1 comments · 31 views
77w, 12hWell enough people guessed 10 comments · 64 views
The man silently closed the door of his new bathroom, it had been one week since an odd rip in space had left him with need of a completely new lavatory built from scratch, and he could still feel the hole it left in his wallet. With a small amount of sadness, his lost savings sitting in the back of his mind, the man walked to the end of the hallway and opened the thin wooden door leading to his kitchen. The man immediately shut the door. This was not happening again, no one man could be so unfortunate, he could not afford a second renovation so soon! With great trepidation the man creaked open the door and peered into the room beyond. This was not his kitchen.
The pony hopped happily down the stairs, enthusiastically humming along with music only she could hear. She stood upon her hind legs at the base of the stairs and waved her forelegs in synch with her imaginary chorus line. With a bit of extra wiggle in her hindquarters, the pony leapt up and over the counter of the bakery she lived above and bounced merrily through the swinging doors to the kitchen, to begin preparations for the work day. The pony's imaginary song came to an abrupt halt as she looked at all of the gleaming metal and the linoleum flooring. She didn't remember the kitchen looking like this.
The man let out a sad sigh as he walked on the hard wooden floor of the new kitchen, already bemoaning the sizable chunk of his already diminished savings that will be lost should this room take the same course of self destruction his bathroom went through. The man's stomach grumbled in displeasure as he walked further into the kitchen, the light from one of the larger windows casting his shadow across the cupboards. With the thought of there being no point in losing one's money hungry when it could be done full, the man strode forth to one of several undersized stoves to begin the process of breakfast creation.
The pony didn't allow the shock of a new kitchen to halt her task for long, the owners of the bakery were counting on her to make sure everything was ready for the work day and she would not let them down. The pony bounced to the only stove in the kitchen, wait, the only stove!? How would they get enough made to please all the customers if there was only one stove to work with? The pony let out a gasp of amazement powerful enough to lift her hooves from the ground. What if it's some sort of super duper magical stove that could cook incredibly fast, that must be it! Pleased with her own reasoning skills, the pony began to familiarize herself with the new super stove.
The man frowned deeply at the stove, as far as he could tell it was neither a gas nor an electric one, but what could that possibly leave? Stooping down he pulled open a small compartment beneath the oven portion, inside he found ashes. Realization slowly moved across the man's face as he understood what he was dealing with. The stove was a wood burning one. The man stood back to his full height, eyes sweeping the room for the most likely place firewood would be kept. He stopped his visual sweep when he noticed a slightly opened box of matches atop a large wooden container, that seemed like a safe bet. The man quickly crossed the room and opened the container, it was indeed full of firewood. With a slight grin he reached down into the container for several pieces of wood, his meal would be hot.
The pony sat upon her haunches before the stove, completely unable to find the compartment the wood goes into. She had checked every side of the stove, every nook and cranny of it's interior, there was no place to put the firewood. Why wouldn't a stove have a place for wood, unless.. unless it wasn't just a super oven, it was a magical super oven that didn't need fuel! The pony excitedly stood upon only her rear legs, using her front set to balance herself against the stove. She quickly began to scrutinize the numbered dials on the device and experimentally turned one until the number five was at the top of the wheel. After a short amount of time she could feel heat rising from one of the front burners, with a squeak of joy the pony went to fetch a pan.
The man coughed violently at the smoke pouring from the stove, he had just learned the hard way to check the air vents on a wood stove before firing it up. Taking a cast iron skillet off a hook on the wall, the man moved towards what he assumed to be the refrigerator, he had spent nearly half an hour and an equal number of matches to minutes trying to light the stove and he would not let something as trivial as smoke inhalation delay his meal further. The man threw open the door of the fridge and took stock of contents. Sitting on a little shelf all its own was a large hunk of ice, below that was a shelf that seemed completely dedicated to eggs, below that shelf was several gallons of milk, and on the bottom shelf sat sparse amounts of cheese, fruits, and vegetables. There was no red meat in sight. With a grunt the man grabbed several eggs, the cheese, and some of the vegetables, he would make do.
The pony's rear end could be seen protruding from an open floor cupboard, various cans of food and kitchen items flying out of the cupboard every now and again. A rustling could be heard from one of the higher cupboards and soon the pony's upper half burst from the cupboard. The rump gave a questioning shake in the direction of the upper half, but only got a shake of the head and a shoulder shrug before the upper portion retreated back into its cupboard and out of the lower one, still attached to its other half. There were no flowers, no hay, no cookies, no cakes, no pies, and no cupcakes anywhere. How could she make a decent breakfast without any of these important food groups? The pony bounced determinedly over to the icebox, maybe it had been decided to keep the flowers cool, pulling open the door her eyes immediately fell upon a small package with big red lettering standing out above all else. Her eyes lit up, bacon! Hay bacon would be a perfect breakfast, but this hay bacon seemed off. It was red for one, and even in the package it seemed oddly moist, maybe it was super bacon to go with the super oven! That had to be it. Pleased with herself once more the pony skipped back to the stove, bacon package being proudly dangled from her mouth.
The man whistled a cheery tune as he finished cutting the onion and the green pepper, this omelet was going to be tasty. The man opened the fridge back up and peered inside, he knew just the drink to go with his meal, all he had to do was find it. Holding onto his tune, the man closed the fridge and began to search the cupboards, his whistling becoming more desperate and high pitched with each additional cupboard he had to check. Upon searching the final cupboard the man brought all whistling to a halt, clenching a fist he slammed his hand upon the nearest counter top. Somewhere in the fifteenth plane a rage demon grew fat before suffering a fatal heart attack. There was no coffee in the kitchen. The man started his omelet cooking, he would just have to drink milk with his food. It was going to be one of those days.
The pony stared at the sizzling strips in the pan, she had never heard hay bacon make so much noise or pop so angrily before, the super stuff they put in it must make it awfully high-strung. Glancing away from a particularly angry pop, the pony spotted something odd. Over on the counter was a metal appliance, with a name tag. Knowing she had to meet every possible new friend, even if it was a kitchen appliance, the pony bounced over to the object labeled as Mr. Coffee. She wasted no time in introducing herself to what she claimed would be her best metallic friend ever. Mr. Coffee made no attempt to return any greeting or acknowledgment to her. Confused as to why a new friend would just flat out ignore her the pony gently prodded at Mr. Coffee.
The metal object made a small click and opened its one glowing red eye, several words began to quickly move across his surface: start up routine, single cup, cream one shot, sugar one load, preparing. Mr. Coffee continued to repeat the word preparing and had begun to worry his new pony friend after a full minute of this, when a paper cup fell into his mouth. The cup was quickly filled with both a black and a white liquid then a small amount of sugar. The pony tilted her head quizzically at the cup when a long metal protuberance lowered from the top of Mr. Coffee's mouth and into the cup before spinning rapidly and rising back up. The word 'complete' moved across his face just before his red eye closed again.
The pony leaned forward and sniffed curiously at the beverage her friend had presented to her. Scrunching her nose at the unfamiliar smell, she carefully took the drink in her hooves and transferred it to the table, she did not want to seem rude or offend her new pal. With the drink in place she put most of the new hay bacon on a plate for herself, the rest being set into Mr. Coffee's mouth for him to enjoy when he next awoke, and sat down to enjoy her breakfast.
The man grudgingly ate his omelet and drank his milk with a very primal and caffeine deprived snarl. This was no way any sentient creature should be forced to endure a morning.
The new super bacon was the most delicious, fabulous, super-happiest, partyinthemouthiest, grouphugwithallyourfriendsiest bacon the pony had ever tasted. The pony was completely smitten with the taste of the bacon and would not argue in any way if all food was to be replaced by it, she ate all of her helping and, with a quiet apology, all of Mr. Coffee's as well. Having finished all of the bacon, the pony washed it down with the entirety of Mr. Coffee's gift at once. Her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks just before the small town bakery was ground zero of what would be forever known as the first 'Sonic Partyboom'.
The man could only blink in confusion as the room had suddenly taken on the look of one where Mardi Gras, New Years Eve, and some kid's birthday, were all shoved into a can and shaken up before opening. He picked the confetti out of his food before finishing his meal, he was in no mood for the universe's shenanigans.