May the laws of science be damned, you think to yourself. Your laptop speakers blare out the aggressive sounds of “dubtrot,” filling the room with a dull ringing sound. Pinkie Pie bobs her head in time, her poofy mane shaking like a cell phone on vibrate during an earthquake.
“Woo! This is my-”
“-I swear to God, Pinkie-”
“Should've seen it coming.”
Perhaps the universe is not ready for this.
You might be on to something, there.
Roughly a half hour passes, the two of you lost in the music for a time. You start to feel somewhat fatigued; now that the shock of having a pony in your dimension has more or less worn off-
“Whatchya doin'?” Pinkie asks, inexplicably sitting on the chair behind you.
“Jesus tapdancing christ!” You yelp, nearly taking an unexpected tumble from the chair. Somehow – miraculously – you manage to not spill your drink. Once your heart ceases its palpitations and your lungs remember how to be lungs, you slowly turn around, staring blankly at the sheepishly grinning pink pony.
“Mean.” You state flatly, sticking out your tongue. Then Pinkie's mane deflates a little bit, and you feel your heart leap into your chest, your subconscious shamefully connecting cupcakes with the Pinkamina-
“Ok! What say we...uh, crap...watch a movie?” You quickly suggest, thus averting even the remote possibility of a brony's worst nightmare.
“Oooh! D'you have any popcorn?” Pinkie asks. You nod your head, motioning toward the kitchen.
“In the cupboard, third shelf u-”
“Hey, this popcorn's pretty good!” Pinkie says, offering you a pass at the large bowl of popcorn. You blink, mentally ducking as an aneurysm comes barreling towards you at supersonic speeds. Shakily, you reach out with your hand and scoop up a handful.
“...s-so, Pinkie...uh, w-w-what do you want t-to-”
“This movie is kinda weird,” Pinkie states, scrunching her nose in a way that you find somewhat adorable. Deciding that now is the best time to get your mental calisthenics in for the day, you mentally dodge a fanboy squee the size of Big Macintosh. On your television screen is a rather old, somewhat campy horror movie from the 70s, in all its grainy splendor. You find it simultaneously cute and bowel-droppingly horrifying how Pinkie giggles every time the film's antagonist – a hocket-mask wearing, machete-toting psychopath – is on the screen.
You are not entirely certain how much time passes before it happens – the first flicker of the lights. For the first time, you notice just how much the wind has picked up in the past hour or so. The tall, spindly trees, devoid of their leaves, rattle and shake in the gusts and gales of the approaching storm. Curious, you grab the television's remote and switch to the news feed. Your eyes are instantly drawn to a bright red banner at the bottom of the screen, adorned with scrolling text:
[-NTER WEATHER ADVISORY. STRONG GUSTS OF WIND UP TO 75 MPH ALONG WITH SEVERE BLIZZARD CONDITIONS. HIGHER ELEVATIONS SHOULD EXPECT UP TO 8 INCHES PER HOUR AT APPROX. 23:45-]
The lights flicker again, and the television shorts out with a pop and a fizzle. The two of you jump a little, at least one of you yelping like a little girl. Then, there is a noise – subtle at first, almost like a low frequency hum, growing quickly into a vibrating thrumming noise, thick and almost like a physical presence. Across the room, you spy a faint glow of pink-white light at the foot of the doorway that leads to the upstairs staircase.
Suddenly, you hear a thud – then a crash. Then, a....groan?
“Oh sweet jesus, no.”
Your mind on holiday and your body on autopilot, you hardly react when the lights flicker for a third and final time, finally falling dark. You feel your way up the stairs, following the faint, lingering afterglow of that all-too-familiar light coming from your bedroom.
You silently push open the door. You sigh.