The Great and Powerful Trixie somehow gets into my house.
I wake up way too early, obvious choice, go back to sleep. Not so much, this time there's something different. A little blue (unicorn) pony that keeps referring to herself in the third person.
Special Thanks to: That_One_Brony for proof reading and my friend Nolan for inspiring me.
Teen for: Strong Language, Reference(s) to Drug Use and Making Fun of Ponies.
It seems foggy, I can see something, it's a person. Maybe it's my boyfriend, no the person's too tall and I would know if it was him. Who could it be, who was the mysterious per, BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Without thinking I jump up and open my eyes as I fling myself across the room, over my bed and next to the alarm clock. I then hit the Alarm Off button. Uhhh, what day is today, after a few moments I piece together that it's Saturday.
Of course I had to forget to turn my alarm clock off, Stupid Stupid Stupid. I always forget to turn off my alarm clock on Friday. I look at clock to check the time 5:22, five twenty two. Uhhh. My eyes begin to close again and I fall forwards onto the foot of my bed. Too early, must fall asleep, too tired to stay awake.
Holy shit, I think as a loud boom occurs somewhere to my left. What the hell was that. At this point my tiredness battles with my curiosity in my mind one side saying to keep sleeping and the other to see what happened. In the end curiosity wins out and I decide to get up and see what happens. As I open my eyes I quickly glance at the clock and see the time, 6:34. Then I turn my head to the left and right there I can see a light blue horse laying down and clutching it's head in pain.
What the hell happened, why the fuck is there a horse in my room. This must be a dream, it has to be, there's no other logical explanation. I just sit there staring, half out of fear and half out of shock. Then after a few minutes it begins to get up, standing on all fours. Then it opens its mouth and says,"What the hay are you".
My mind is blank, how is it that this thing is talking. "How the hell are you speaking and why are you in my room?", I ask.
"What do you mean your room, I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, am in my wagon", she now speaks with a rather condescending tone.
"In case you haven't noticed, oh Great and Powerful one, you are no longer in your wagon", I say putting extra emphasis on the "Great and Powerful" part. She is now obviously irritated by my ridicule of her.
"I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, will not be spoken to that way", she replies, turning her head away from me after she finishes speaking.
"I din't care what you are and I can speak to you any way I want. Now, if you don't mind get out of my room!", I shout. Who is this horse thing, to be telling me what to do. At this point she turns her head back towards me and looks around, as if she's trying to find out where she is.
"Oh horsefeathers", I hear her whisper in barely audible voice. Now back in her previous tone, "I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, will leave at once". There's a puff of smoke and I hear her start half walking, half running, out of my room. I assume that she's making a beeline towards the door, but based on the fact that the door remains closed and that she yelps in pain she's still stuck in my room.
Once the smoke dissipates I can't help but laugh at the sight before me, she's on the ground sprawled on all fours with her head against the door. "What, what, what the heck. That's called a door you retard, you have to open it!", I manage to stutter out between giggles.
Apparently the hit didn't effect her so much because she was able to get up from being on the ground and walk over to where I was laying on my bed laughing and punch me on the side of my head. She obviously doesn't like to be ridiculed.
"Do not laugh at me, the Great and Powerful Trixie", she says,"This has only happened because my magic is not working properly".
"What the, what. Do you really think you are magical. What the hell! You are just CRAZY!", I can barely get this out through my fit of laughter. Who the hell does she think she is, Puff the Magic Dragon? "There's no such thing as magic you dumb ass!", this is just too much. A blue unicorn pony thing shows up in my room and tries to convince me not only is it real but it's magical. I would assume that I'm high but I haven't smoked any for a few days.
"I am magical, and I will prove it", she's now yelling loud enough to shake the walls. Then she points her horn at me and grunts, I don't know what to expect. She keeps having a look on her face as if she's constipated. Maybe she needs to take a crap.
"Hey, if you need to take a shit go to the bathroom", I say matter-of-factly. She ignores me and keeps aiming her horn at me and grunting. I just start laughing again, both at the hilarity and impossibility of the situation.
At this point she must realize it's no use as she stops trying and just sits back down. A puzzled look appears on her as she seems to be pondering something in her mind, I couldn't care less. As long as she doesn't mess up my room, I just had it repainted.
"What, what's happening why isn't my magic working, did I hurt my horn. I bet it was her fault, Twilight Sparkle", she puts extra emphasis on the "Twilight Sparkle" part. "I bet she did something to me, maybe she put something in my drinks before I left", she seems very angry just thinking about this "Twilight Sparkle". What a hilarious name, Twilight Sparkle, it just sounds ridiculous.
"I'm being serious, something is wrong. I can't use magic. And, and if I can't use magic than I can't get back to Equestria", she sound's really desperate to go back to this "Equestria" place. It sounds like some sort of theme park or something.
"Well if you were the "Great and Powerful Trixie" before, now you're just Trixie. Not so Great, and not so Powerful", I reply. Hahaha. This is just hilarious some sort of blue pony showing in my bedroom from some sort of other dimension or something, plus it speaks English. What are the odds of something like this happening. I'm probably asleep and this is all just one weird dream. All one weird ass dream.
FYI: This chapter has a sad part, but I promise that comedy will resume in a few chapter.
"How dare you, I command you to stop insulting me, the Great and Powerful Trixie", she says in a loud voice, though not loud enough to be considered shouting. She's now scowling at me, what's she going to do use her "magic" to beat me up? Maybe she knows karate.
"Watch out guys, we're dealing with a badass over here", I try to copy the expression of Neil DeGrass Tyson from that internet meme while saying so. She just continues giving me this look, a combination of indignation and hatred. I bet she has some sort of inferiority complex, she has all the characteristics. She can't take an insult, she's blaming other people for her problems, and she is arrogant as hell. She's referring to herself in the third person for Christ's sake.
"You know, I don't know what your deal is but you need to get off your high horse", I shout, with extra emphasis on the horse part. It's a little corny but it seems to piss her off none the less. Her face just looks funny as hell, its weirdly contorted and she just has her mouth open; no doubt at a loss for words. At this point I start laughing again, she is just funny as hell.
She now responds to my insults with by yelling, "DO YOU SEE THIS MARK ON MY FLANK? IT'S MY SPECIAL TALENT, AND THAT TALENT IS MAGIC!!!". This has scared me enough to the point where this is no longer funny enough to laugh at. Big whoop, she has a tattoo on her ass, so did one of my friends, though when I saw that one it was just disturbing as hell. The one of her's just looks like a magic wand and dust, not something I would show off tattooed anywhere on me.
"Big shit, you got a tattoo, I'm assuming that like here, anyone in your world can get one too. Though if I were you I would have chosen a spot that wouldn't give guys an excuse to stare at my ass.", this statement must have made something snap because at this point she goes bat-shit crazy.
"Holy Shit!", I shout as she just jumps on top of me, slamming me onto my back. She's holding me down as if she was going to try and have her way with me, but this is much more painful. She begins slamming her hands, no hooves, she starts slamming her hooves everywhere, though in the general direction of my face. Thinking on my feet I weave me head left and right trying to keep it away from her assault. Thanks to a combination of evasive maneuvers on my part and her apparently poor hand-eye, no hoof-eye coordination, I am able to evade most of her punches, with only about 5-7 actually hitting my face.
"I AM GREAT AND POWERFUL AND I AM MAGICAL", she shouts. I don't know what all of this means, the pony, the yelling, the assault. If it's a dream then it means I might be a masochist, if it's a hallucination that means I'm crazy, and if this is real, well... Right about now she stops trying to punch me, and slumps back and collapses, falling from her perch on top of me to to the left and onto the pillows at the head of my bed.
She's crying, but I'm just glad she's stopped, what she lacks in size she makes up for in raw fury. She's punched me twice on my right cheek, two to three times on the left and has hit me on the forehead at least once. At least she missed my eyes, the last thing I need is a black eye. The pain from the blows is beginning to radiate around me face. Though I've been through worse, time to man up. Right now I'm having a hard time believing this is all just some sort of weird dream.
The pain seems too real, too lifelike. I've fallen off skyscrapers, gotten shot and stabbed in dreams, and even then the pain was relatively light. The pain I have from the beating feels just like the time I got beat up in middle school. Ah, middle school, the place where people just don't give a damn. The place to get beat up and made fun of.
The lifelike pain is the one thing that convinces me that all this is real. That no matter how weird this is, she is real. That I have just gotten beat up by a blue pony that is supposedly magical. I've just been making fun of her, thinking that this was some sort of dream, that she wasn't real. She is real, she is alive. I screwed the hell up.
I have just spent that last few minutes doing nothing but ridiculing her. Making fun of her when she's stuck in what she sees as an alien world. I've been doing that while she's probably thinking about when she'll be home, if she can get home. Assuming that she got here by magic, and not some sort of trans-dimensional portal, she might be stuck here forever. I've fucked this up. Nice one dumbass.
Don't get me wrong, I am angry at her for beating me senseless, as if I was just some sort of plaything, but she just seems so helpless. Like a little girl that doesn't know where her mom is, or someone who just lost one of their parents. I can't help but feel sympathy for her. She's stuck here for god-knows-how-long and I've just welcomed her to Earth by calling her retarded. Smooth move. I have to do something, I can't just let her just sob there until she calms down, that could take forever.
This might be a stupid idea, but I decide to scoot up the bed and behind her, she looks so sad. Right now she just looks like a sniveling little girl, using proper terminology I think the word to describe her is filly. A sad little filly who missing everyone that she knows, in a strange new world that she doesn't know anything about. I am still pissed at her for beating the shit out of me, but it's hard to be mad her, she's curled up in a ball with both of her hooves covering her face. She just looks so, so...
I don't know, my reaction when I see someone in pain is to try and help them, and even if they aren't human I'll still help. I try to say it in the most comforting voice I can muster, "It's going to be ok, it's going to be ok. I'm sorry for what I said...", I begin, "If there's anything I can do, let me know". She lowers her hooves and I look into her purple eyes, tears are streaming down her face. This is just...
I just have no idea what to do, I've never had to comfort someone that potentially is cut off from everyone in their lives. It must be difficult, I can imagine it, not seeing my parents, my boyfriend, and my friends. I lean in closer to her and start to stroke her hair, no wait, her mane.
I look into her eyes, which are still releasing tears that roll down her face, still trying to sound as comforting as possible, "It's going to be alright, I don't care what it takes, I'll try to get you home and while you're waiting I'll try to help you as much as possible. You can have the room down the hall if you'd like that". She seems to begin to cheer up, her crying has stopped, or at least slowed down by a significant amount, and she's beginning to let her guard down and get out of the ball.
This brings a smile to my face, although she's not happy she's not as sad as before. I put a slight smile on my face and I inch my way around her and onto the carpet floor of my room. I stand up and look at her, the smile still on my face and I say, "Come on, why don't I get you some water? You must be thirsty".
I extend my hand, she seems to be debate it for a moment, I can't blame her, I wouldn't exactly trust someone who just spent the past few minutes making fun of me. She eventually extends one of her forehooves, it seems to be slightly shaking. I grab it and I help her off my bed, she struggles for a few seconds, but eventually gets onto all fours and starts to walk towards the door and I follow.
"I think maybe I should walk ahead, as this is my house. Plus I don't need you banging your head on the door again", I comment.
She replies, "Yeah", though I think I may be able to see a slight smile on her lips. I then slide my way infront of her and open the door to the hallway. I'll get her some water and show her to the guest room. At this point my door bell rings. Who would be trying to see me at this time?
Why would my doorbell be ringing at this time in the morning, there aren't many people that would be at my doorstep at 6 something in the morning. "Trixie, why don't you stay back here while I check out who it is", I tell her. She complies and stops walking down the hallway while I continue on. After reaching the junction between the hallway, kitchen, living room, and stair I turn to my right.
I walk down half a flight of stairs, turning on the light on my way down. Then I look through the peephole in my door, outside the door, standing perfectly still, is my boyfriend. Why the hell is he here, he doesn't even like getting up before 8 in the morning, and now he's standing in front of my house. "Please don't walk upstairs, please don't walk upstairs!", I silently pray.
When I finish my prayer I open the door and ask, "Brian, what are you doing here so early?". He just looks back at me weirdly.
"Well, hello to you to", he replies smugly. You can see it on his face, the slight smile on his face, the tone in his voice. Sometimes I wonder why I date him, the smart-ass son of a bitch.
"You still haven't answered my question", I rebut. I say this less out of curiosity and more just to be able to say something to him.
"Well, I think I left my sweatshirt in the guest room a few days ago, when we were making out. You haven't seen it , have you?", he says rather matter-of-factly. So he came here at like 6-something in the morning just to get a sweatshirt, that's Brian for you. He goes psycho every time something goes missing, I wonder why it's taken him this long to come barging into my house trying to find it.
"Sure, go and find it", I say. I then stand aside and allow him into my house. He goes to the left and starts to walk up the steps, wait, the guest room is on the second floor. And Trixie's upstairs, hiding in the hallway. I rush up and use my body to block his way up. "Just let me get it, you don't have to bother trying to find it", I say quickly trying to get him to back down. He just looks back at me with a very confused look on his face.
"I am perfectly capable of finding my own sweatshirt, don't worry your pretty head about it.", he says putting extra emphasis on the "my" part. He then starts trying to barge his way through me. He just starts pressing against me trying to push me over. Thankfully I am able to hold firm, using my left arm to grab onto the railing and he's stopped about halfway up the stairs.
"What is wrong with you, just let me through so I can get my stupid sweatshirt", he's now shouting at me. I just stand there, as before, not saying a word, blocking his way. I can sense his frustration in his eyes, voice and facial expression. He resumes his attempt to force his way past me and like before he's stopped. He then shifts strategy and picks me up, as if I was Simba from the Lion King. I swear I can hear an animal chorus in the background as he holds me up, casting a shadow from the chandelier.
In one swift motion he turns me around so that I'm lower on the staircase, then he sets me down, almost as if I was some sort of toy doll. "What the hell was that for, what do you think I am, your plaything?", I shout trying to sound as angry as I can. I glance down trying to keep him from seeing that I'm not really furious at him. The last desperate play, the "I'm Angry at you so I Hope You Stop Doing What You're Doing Plan".
As usual it doesn't work, and all he does is give me a kiss on the forehead and say, "Yes, yes you are". This makes me genuinely angry at him, I just look up and glare at him and accept defeat. He walk up the stairs and while doing so says, "I don't get why you're so angry about this, it's like you're hiding someone in the guest room". He continues his journey up the stairs completely unaware that there's a little pony hiding there.
After he gets up the stairs and turns to the left, towards the guest room and Trixie. I countdown in my head, 3 2 1. "HOLY CRAP", I hear him shout, "What, what, what the hell is that". Ding ding ding, we have a winner. After he finishes the "that" part of the statement I see him backing up and bumping into a box on the ground and fall over, ass first, into the box.
"Just calm down, I have a reasonable explanation", after I finish the "reasonable" part I see Trixie walk forwards. She's walking very slowly, trotting forwards at a snail's pace.
"I.. I.. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you", she's saying very slowly, "I'm sorry". The last part is in barely audible voice, she'a crying again. I rush up the half flight of stairs and rush to her side. She's now sitting on the ground, at the intersection, bawling with her hooves covering her eyes. She's curled up in a ball again.
I then make it to her side and start saying, "It's going to be alright, everything's alright". I start playing with her blue hair, trying to calm him down. "Brian knows you didn't mean to scare him, he knows it was just an accident. Isn't that right Brian?", I look at him with a look of "Agree with me or you're dead".
"Yeah, yeah. I know it was an accident, I know you didn't mean it.", he says. I don't know if he actually means it or if he's just agreeing, I'm fine either way. Trixie seems to be calming down, I should add possible mood swings to my list of her problems. I lower her hooves and look into her eyes, she has the same look she had earlier, the sad and hopeless look. I give her a smile, try to calm her down, it says "Everything's going to be alright".
"Would you care to explain why there's a pony in your room?", he says.
"Her name is Trixie, and she will be addressed as such", I start, "From what she's said I think she's come from another world called Equestria, most likely from some sort of magic gone wrong. So she's going to be staying with me, in the guest room". He seems to have a look on his face that is of pure shock, I assume he doesn't believe me. I probably wouldn't have believed myself either.
"So, so, so you're telling me that that, Trixie, here is a talking, possibly magical, pony, that has come here from a different dimension or universe or something?", he half says half asks. He's putting extra emphasis both in his speech as his hand gestures when he says the "talking, possibly magical, pony" part. He's saying it almost as if he were trying to convince me, or himself, that the very existence of Trixie is impossible.
"Basically, yes", I reply. He's looking at me with a look of skepticism, I don't blame him. It's not like talking animals appear everyday. I then take a look a Trixie to see how she's doing, she seems to be, happy. She's looking at Brian and smirking at him, who is still sitting in a cardboard box. Not to self, Trixie is prone to sudden changes in mood.
"Okay, ummm. You know what, I'll just get my sweatshirt and leave. I'll call you later.", he then jumps up from his seat in the box and runs down the hall. He then turns to his left and into the guest room. After what I would guess was about a minute he comes out. I then see him sprinting out of the room, down the hall, then as he flies down the stairs, though it seems that his coordination is off, as he falls over headfirst.
After tumbling down he ends up with his head on the floor and his ass in the air. I'm not sure whether to start laughing or run down and help him, it seems Trixie has chosen the first. She's on her back laughing furiously while also kicking all four of her hooves as over the place. So I guess I'll have to help him up, I walk down the stairs and knock on his head a few times.
"Hey, you alright?", I ask. He begins to lift his head and it's obvious that he's going to be fine, there's no serious injury and he's not crying out in pain or unconscious. I think about what the best course of action would be and I decide to flip him over before helping him up. I then procede to unceremoniously flip him onto his back. I then extend my arm and help him up.
After I help him stand up he goes and begins to open the door. "Yeah, I'll be alright. I don't think I broke anything and I'm not bleeding.", he replies. I then look back up the stairs and up to check up on Trixie. She seems to have calmed down and is just sitting there, staring into space. I then look back at him and he pulls into a kiss, after he pulls away a smile creeps onto my face.
"Anyway, I'll see you later, have fun with the horse", he says, then he walks out of my house and closes the door. I want to chase after him, and yell at him for not calling her by her name, but I have other things to do. Though it has erased the smile from my face. I begin to walk back up the stairs and back up to Trixie.
"Well that was, interesting, to say the least", she pipes up. That's true enough, being around him has always been interesting since day 1. He's pulls the most idiotic shit, one time he tried build a zip-line from my room to a tree outside. He's an idiot, but he's my idiot.
At this point I reach the top of the stairs. "Yeah, you better get used to him pulling stupid stuff while you're living here. Speaking of living here, I'll show you the guest room", I say. I then motion for her to follow me. I then walk for maybe four steps then turn left and wait for her to follow. Once she walks into the room I flip on the lights. "It might not be much, but it's better then nothing", I comment. The room is mostly bare, a bed, desk, and drawers are all that adorn it.
"Well, it's better than what I usually stay in", she says quickly, sounding rather glum. She then trots past me and walks further into the room, towards the bed. She then does a quick hop and lands onto the bed and lays down, though her head falls slightly short of the pillow, so she does an awkward movement to get her head on the pillow. I decide to follow her and walk through the room to the bed and sit down on the edge.
The thing that sticks in my head is her comment about the room being better than what she usually stays in, the room is pretty empty to begin with."So, where do you usually live?", I ask. Maybe she's homeless, but she looks much too well groomed to be homeless. Maybe she had a small apartment, I don't know.
"Well it's not really one place, I live in a wagon and I travel from place to place", she replies. She seems rather sad, maybe I shouldn't have brought up the topic. But my curiosity gets the best of me and I have to know more about her. After all she is staying in my house.
"So, what do you do?", I ask. The only job that would require you to travel from place to place I can think of is being a traveling salesman. Then again she said her special talent was magic so why would she be a salesperson if her talent was magic?
"I'm a traveling magician, I set up in the middle of a town and try to get people to watch me perform", she replies. Well, I should have seen that coming, Magic + Travelling= Traveling magician. I seems like a fun job, but she really isn't saying it like it seems like fun.
"Magician, that must be a fun job. You making people stare in awe at your tricks and that kind of stuff", I comment. I don't know whether it would have been better if I had just left and let her have some peace and quiet. She seems tired so I'll just leave soon. After a few more moments of silence I decide it would be best if I left. "You know what, I'll just let you get some rest and I'll talk to you when you wake up", I say.
I then stand up and walk out of the room, I then close the door, though leaving a small crack open. I know it's rude to spy on people, but she might do something or say something that may be of use. I stand there for about five more minutes, the only important thing that happens is that she starts crying. I want to go in and say something, but I don't want to let her know I've been spying on her. Plus it isn't like before when she was sobbing, this time she just lets a few tears roll down her face.
Somehow this story has turned into a sad-ish slice of life story, don't ask me how it happened. I don't know how but I will make the comedy return.
Trixie seems relatively calm, at least she isn't curled up in a ball crying or on her back laughing her ass off. So while Trixie's sleeping I might as well take some time to relax. So I walk to the living room and sit in my comfortable chair, that I usually use for gaming. Then I set my MacBook in front of me, on top of a foldable table, and sat there wondering what to do to kill my free time. Then a thought popped into my head, what could be better than playing video games? Apparently anything else as I'm basically yelling at the screen with a rage face on the whole time.
And the game I was playing was Super Mario Bros. I normally see people get this worked up over COD, you know, the people who are yelling into their mics the whole about someone cheating and lag and that kind of stuff. But I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've seen someone get so worked up over Mario. After about 20 minutes I get past the first level. I then continue my escapades as a short Italian plumber who tries to save a princess that is always in another castle.
I must have been playing for a few hours because on about the fifth level I hear a door creak open behind me, obviously it had to be Trixie. I then hear the sound of hooves beating on the hardwood floor, and after a moment I see Trixie walking down the hall, her hair is all messed up, as if she was tossing and turning a lot when she was sleeping. Maybe she was having a bad dream.
"What's that?" she asks, pointing at my MacBook, which at the moment has Mario being chased by one of those weird mushroom guys plastered on the screen.
"It's a video game, you don't have video games in your world?" I reply. I wonder how different her world is from mine, if you can still make a living as a traveling magician they probably don't have T.V. or radio or anything else to entertain themselves with. Though the very fact that the occupation exists points to their society having a relatively large agricultural surplus. That leads me to believe that they are at least an advanced agricultural society, where people in the top tiers of society have enough free time to the point where they need entertainers.
Then again, she wasn't surprised at the fact that I have a laptop; more curious. That leads me to believe they have technology in a similar area to computers. That would mean they would have modern comforts such as light bulbs and air conditioning. "Yes, we do have video games, I just don't know what that specific one is, and based on your playing you suck at it," she says, interrupting my train of thought.
She just insulted me didn't she, I want to lash out and call her a worthless piece of shit, but I made fun of her when she showed up in my room, so I guess she deserves to take a few shots at me. Karma's a bitch. But she just confirmed what I thought. They have video games, which would mean they have various other inventions that are associated with the 60's - 80's. To confirm my hypothesis I ask "So, do you guys have T.V. and electricity and air conditioning, you know that kind of stuff?"
She justs looks at me as if I'm speaking some sort of foreign language, which is possible because I do occasionally accidentally speak mandarin, though I'm pretty sure I'm still speaking English. Then, with the most confused look on her face, says "What?" Maybe they have a different name for it, after all even different parts of the United States have different names for certain things, this is even more true for another world. So maybe showing her the T.V. would be easier.
I then fumble around and get my remote and turn on the T.V., apparently Hawaii Five-0 is on. I then ask, "Do you have that where you come from," and point to the gunfire going off on the television. She just stares at the screen, almost as if she's debating whether the gunfire is actually going off inside the room of if it's just a magic trick. She obviously has never seen a T.V. before, which is rather weird because that would mean that her world has the technology to build television but chooses not to or is unable to.
"It's a T.V., signals come through a cable and into the T.V. The T.V. then turns those signals into moving pictures that you can see of the screen," I explain. It's like talking to a four year old, I have to dumb everything down to the point where they can understand it.
Then she asks the most stupid question I could ever think of, "Is it powered by magic?". FACEPALM.
"No, Trixie it's not powered by magic. It's powered by electricity. Why do you ask, are things in your world powered by magic?" I reply. This is just too weird, a place were they have video games, but don't have electricity or television. Then again if magic can power things then they would have no need for fuels which is a plus. But that doesn't explain the lack of television.
"Okay, because in my world I can power anything with my magic," she says rather smugly putting extra emphasis on the "I" part. God, this is just, uuuuhhhhh. Imagine trying to deal with a regular egomaniac, now mix in an inferiority complex and the fact that the person is "magical", you see my point.
I think it's time to play Let's Try to Change the Topic game, I turn off the T.V. and ask her, "Do you want anything to eat?" She just stares off into space, as if I'm a college professor giving her a lecture about some mind-numbingly boring topic. I then realize that she's just staring at, the now blank, television screen. I assume she's waiting for it to come back to life by itself so she can find out what happens to Kono.
She then turns her head left and says in a rather bothered tone, "Sure," she seems like she just wants to finish the episode of Hawaii Five-0 so I sheepishly turn the T.V. back on.
I then tell her, "You know why don't I let you finish this episode, I'll just get something to eat first. Then, when you're done, you can come with me to the kitchen to find something that you'd like to eat, okay?"
She responds by waving her hoof in a 'Leave me alone' fashion and says, "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," I'll just leave her to watch the show.
I then get out of my chair by jumping over the right side, then walk to the left into the kitchen. Hmmmm. What do I have to eat, I don't really like cooking so most of the time I just get frozen meals or cup noodles and heat those up. Then again today is a special day, a pony teleported into my house from another dimension.
I know what I'm going to eat: I'll have the last pack of the special spicy beef ramen I brought back from vacation. On the side a few shots of vodka. I wonder what ponies eat. I think their vegetarians and I don't have anything that doesn't involve meat to a certain degree anywhere in the house. Maybe she can just eat grass. I'm pretty sure horses eat grass. I'll just ask her what she'll eat later. Right now I have ramen to cook and alcohol to drink.
Ramen is simple enough to cook. I just go to the hot water machine I have, push a button, and wait for about five minutes. The thing I love about this ramen is that it has actual beef in it. I'm not joking there are real chunks of beef in it, I think it's freeze-dried beef or something like that, don't ask me I'm not a chef or anything like that. All I know is that I put hot water in and ramen with beef comes out. While I wait for that to finish stewing I might as well get that vodka. I open the cupboard to my left and pull out a bottle of Grey Goose, about half the bottle is left. I put the bottle down on the table and look for some shot glasses.
Where are those damn shot glasses, they should be in the cabinet next to the booze but I can't find them. Oh well, I'll just use regular glasses and try and eyeball the amount. I grab a glass out of the washing machine and put it on the table next to the bottle of booze. Time for the first shot. I take the bottle and tilt it forwards, vodka begins to pour out of it. When I feel I have the same amount as about one shot I stop, then I take the cup and knock it back. Nothing like the taste of alcohol in the morning.
I then pick up the bottle to pour myself another shot. At this point the show must have ended because Trixie in walking into the kitchen. After she walks in the first thing she notices is the bottle of vodka in my left hand. She asks "What's that?"
"Do you guys have alcohol in your world?" I respond. She seems to mull over what I've just said and just stares at the bottle in my hand, still halfway between being on the table and pouring another shot.
"Yes I think we do have alcohol, but we only have it in the form of hard apple cider and salt. What you have in your hand is obviously not apple cider or salt. So pray tell, what is it?" she replies. She speaking in a rather condescending tone for someone who doesn't even know what vodka is.
"It's vodka. Basically apple cider, but stronger," I say, trying to tell her what I mean in the simplest way I can. She seems to brighten up when I say the word 'stronger'. A smile appears on her lips. I assume that she wants some of it.
"No way! You are not getting any alcohol from me! No way, no how," I say. Her smile turns back into a frown, she's obviously displeased when I tell her that I won't give her any. I half expect her to try and beat me up again.
"I, The Great and Powerful Trixie, demand that you give me some of your va-, vu-, vodka," she replies. Great, now she's back saying 'Great and Powerful'. It's like she's regressed back to her previous phase.
"I don't care how 'Great and Powerful' you are, you're not getting any!" I exclaim. I try not to make fun of the Great and Powerful part, I don't need a repeat of the incident when she first came here. She seems to mull it over in her mind for a second, I hope that she just gives up. But of course she doesn't, and it seems she think the best course of action is to tackle me.
She charges forwards, and before I can move out of the way, she pushes me down on the ground. I just lay there, with the wind knocked out of me. This is just like in the beginning, maybe she has regressed to a previous phase. I praise myself, expecting her to start beating me up again. But instead, she proceeds to take the bottle, which miraculously has not shattered and killed me, and puts it into her mouth. I'm never using that vodka again.
She proceeds to tilt her head back and chug a rather large amount of what's left in the bottle, I'm not sure if she intended to or not. She then, for lack of a better word, spits the bottle out of her mouth. And as if to add insult to injury she spits it out, all over my face. "Hayseed! This tastes horrible, why didn't you tell me!" she yells. If you're going to steal my liquor at least enjoy it. After finishing the sentence she smacks me across the face, as if she were some girl that just found out I was cheating on her.
I finally regain enough of my breath to the point where I'm comfortable speaking, and I reply "Hey, I told you not to drink it," in an 'I told you so' sort of tone. She looks at me, looking angrier than before. I crawl out from under her and stand back up. "Why don't I get you something to eat. Is that okay with you?" I ask.
"Yes, Trixie is rather hungry," she answers. At least she's not saying 'Great and Powerful' anymore.
Based on what she said before about apple cider I feel it's safe to say that she'll eat an apple, and luckily for me I have a few in the fridge. "Trixie, I got a few apples, is that okay with you?" I ask. She looks at me like she's bored, then again today has been pretty interesting so everything else should seem boring.
"Yes, apples will be fine," she responds. Okay, things are going smoothly now, thank god for that. I open the fridge and take two apples out of a bag on the top shelf. After I get the apples Iwalk over to the sink and wash them. Trixie just sits on the ground in the middle of the room and watches me wash the apples.
After I finish the first one I throw it over my should and say "Hey Trixie, catch." I couldn't see what happened but I do hear the sound of an apple being bitten into, so I think it's safe to say the she caught it. The whole time that I'm washing the second apple I hear her biting, chewing, and swallowing bits of the first apple. If I didn't know any better I would have thought that she was Ryuk from Death Note. Then again unicorns exist so why not gods of death. Maybe a death note would drop out of the sky onto my front lawn soon.
I finish washing the second apple and wipe it on my shirt to dry it. After drying the apple I turn around and toss the apple to Trixie, she seems to have finished the first one, core and all. "You know, these apples are delicious, much better than the ones I get in Canterlot!" she exclaims.
Canterlot, it's probably some sort of town or city, possibly an apple orchard. And it sounds just like Camelot from in that legend about King Arthur. At this point I remember my ramen noodles and rush to the table with a pair of chopsticks. At this point I then proceed to shove the delicious noodles down my throat as fast as I can. While doing so I release a very loud series of slurp noises. By the time Trixie's done with her apple I'm tearing up slightly and my mouth feels like it's on fire. You can see why these are my favorite.
Trixie trots up from her previous spot on the ground towards my seat at the table. She sees me basically crying over my noodles and asks "Are you okay? You seem like you're crying about your food. Is it that bad?" It is then that I notice how much I'm crying, as I had been concentrating on my noodles the whole time.
"No, I'm fine. It's just really spicy," I reply.
"Can I try" she asks. I was about to say yes but then I remembered that it was spicy beef ramen. And I'm pretty sure horses don't eat meat, so I should probably try and keep her from eating it.
"No, I don't think you'll like it, trust me, remember the vodka?" I reply. I hope that she learned something from the vodka incident. She seems to think about it for a few second then she opens her mouth.
"Whatever, it probably isn't that good anyway," she comments, though she seems somewhat angry about it. She sits there waiting for me to finish, after about a minute she pipes up and asks "Can I get some water?" I stand up from my seat and walk to the dishwasher, pick out a random glass, and fill it with water.
After getting the water I walk back to my seat and put the glass on the ground in front of Trixie. She uses the same approach as she did with the bottle and uses her face. She bites the cup with her front teeth and tilts it back, and proceeds to get most of the water in her mouth, with a small amount trickling down the sides of her face. Thank god I used a plastic cup instead of a glass one.
She leans forwards and relinquishes her grip on it, dropping it on the ground. She then says "I am going to watch some more, what did you call it, T.V." Before I can respond she's turned around and is walking out of the room. It's not like I could really tell her to stay, it's not like I'm one of her parents.
When she exits the room it's not unlike any random Saturday, me by myself, eating some ramen. But then I'm reminded that its isn't just me here anymore there's somebody, or maybe it'd be more appropriate to say somepony, else.
