Rule of Fourths

by Snowstreak


Jamie sat back on his couch, taking in the last scenes of something he had never thought he would find himself watching. As the show ended and the credits began to roll, he rolled his eyes, his brain trying to discern just what exactly he had seen and what he was supposed to think of it.

Sighing, he switched the channel (just to make sure nobody could tell what he had been doing) and turned off the TV. He plopped back down on the couch and grabbed his laptop. Time to get some work done.

The computer, of course, had other plans. Mere seconds after he logged in, up popped a message. “Oh, no. Not this again.”

<br0n3: So?>

Trying to play it cool, he typed back <jamie_353: What?>

<br0n3: So did u watch it?>

He wasn’t going to get out of this one. <jamie_353: Yeah…>

<br0n3: And?>

“Ugh… I’m never going to live this down.” <jamie_353: Well, it wasn’t that bad>

<br0n3: Wait until u see the rest, you’ll be doin’ fanfics b4 u know it!>

<jamie_353: IF>

<br0n3: Right, once u see one, u won’t stop, trust me!>

<jamie_353: Nah, it was good, but I just don’t have the time right now. I’ve got job applications to fill out.>

<br0n3: So there’s nothing stopping u from watching them after u finish your job apps.>

He groaned. He had walked right into the trap. <jamie_353: Like I said, IF.>

<br0n3: Good enough. Here, something 4 u.>

He groaned yet again as the image appeared, Pinkie Pie with green swirly eyes with the words “Welcome to the Herd” in big letters.

<jamie_353: Funny, you. Got to go, though, I have to finalize these. The interview for the first one is tomorrow.>

<br0n3: l8r!>

<jamie_353: Later!>

Jamie sighed again as he began typing…

Three hours later, Jamie clicked the button to wrap up the fruits of his labor, smiling as the printer on his desk began to whirr. “One down, four to go. Time to get some sleep,” he said to himself. He watched the carefully crafted resume and filled-out form fall into the paper tray, then grabbed a pen and signed on the necessary lines. After carefully placing the copies in a leather folder, he double-checked his alarm, turned out the lights, and fell asleep.

A loud knocking sound awoke him from his sleep. Yawning, he looked at the time. “Five in the morning? Who in the world…” He slipped out of bed and put on a robe before walking to the front door. He looked out the peephole, trying to see who it was, but he couldn’t see anyone. He had just turned around when he heard the knocks again, almost as if someone was knocking on the door with a piece of wood. “Oh, for the love of Pete…” He hastily unlocked the door and swung it open. For a few seconds he looked out, seeing nothing. Then he looked down.

His eyes went wide and he stared for what seemed like an eternity. “No… no, what… what?”

The visitor jumped at least three feet in the air, gave a huge GAAAAAAAASP, and shot down the street in a blur, leaving nothing but a pink trail and… something floating in midair?

Jamie’s sleep-addled brain had just enough time to recognize it as three purple tubes with colored speckles on them before gravity took over and they fell to the ground, exploding with a bang and releasing a cloud of confetti and streamers. “Gah! Wh… okay, think. It’s a dream. Yeah, definitely a dream.” With that out of the way, he calmly closed the door and went back to sleep.

Beep Beep. Beep Beep. CLICK. Jamie stretched his arms as he silenced the alarm, opening his eyes and looking around him as he remembered the weird dream. “Ooooooookay, that was definitely strange,” he said to himself, sliding out of bed and walking into the kitchen to make some coffee. “Maybe I shouldn’t be watching that show, I normally don’t have dreams like that.” He switched on the coffeemaker and started heating up an English muffin in the toaster oven for a quick breakfast. He wanted to be early to his interview. He picked up a spare copy of his resume and reviewed it, just in case.

The ding of the toaster oven broke his concentration, and he walked over to take the English muffin out. Opening the door of the toaster oven, he stopped short as he peered into the oven. Instead of the muffin… it was a cupcake.

He blinked and shook his head, looking at the oven again, realizing that the English muffin was right there in front of his eyes. “Crap. This isn’t good, I must be getting sick or something. Seeing things.” He looked at his watch. “Interview in less than an hour. Great.” Briefly he considered calling in sick, but decided against it. Maybe more coffee would help.

He poured the rest of the coffee into a travel mug, quickly ate the English muffin, then went upstairs to get dressed. He would worry about getting a checkup later, right now he had an interview to be at.