That afternoon, you finish your shift with a completely conflicted mind. It was like an intense cut of Inside Out in there. The whole day, you've spent all that time contemplating about your...interests, listening to 'Alone Again' on loop. There were a few close calls with the girls and your sulking. To them, if there's ANY resemblance of a frown EVER, they'll be on your ass faster than Dashie ever could.
Damn ponies and there understandably meddlesome concerns, and their kind nature...
And that beautiful unicorn's cute giggles...
You curse your wandering mind and plop your head on the wall after putting the cleaning gear away. Eventually, Spike comes casually flying down the hallway.
"Hey bro! What are ya-" He notices you banging your head against the wall. "Ugh, choked again, eh?"
You nod against the wall.
"It probably wouldn't have worked out. She's a student of the princess of friendship, and I'm just..."
"A really great friend that any mare would go out with?" he inserts.
"Now's not the time for jokes, Spikey!"
The baby dragon rolls his eyes.
"George Michael was right. I'm never gonna dance again." you whimper.
"Who's that?" he asks.
"Google it."
"What's that?"
You sigh and continue bashing your skull in.
"Aw, come on now. Let's get outta here, take your mind off of things."
You don't budge.
Tired of your shit, Spike yanks you by the arm, dragging you down the hall. "You know, patience runs VERY deep in us dragons." he states. "But not THAT deep. Let's go, I know a place."
"I'm sure you do." you groan.
Sometime later...
Who knew that seizure-inducing multicolored equines could flood your mind with an ocean of stressful stress. Right now, your poor brain cells are taking their own lives one by one, approximately about 156 casualties.
*POP*
Make that 157.
"We're almost there, bud." Spike assures. "The ice cream shop will cheer you up."
The little dragon sees you sulking on a nearby bench.
"Come on, Anon. Stop being so dramatic."
"I am in a glass case of EMOTION right now bro. I'm not really in the mood for-"
"Oh, hi Lyra! How are you?"
You jump out of your indecisive state and off the bench as you sprint down the street. There was no way in hell you'd let that equine kook crash your pity party. Looking back, however, you notice your cheeky dragon bro has trolled you good. Before you could react to the trick, you collide into a lamppost with a sickening SLAM. Tiny lyres fly around your head as you come to.
"Woah, that was a pretty gnarly collision, man." a voice groans in surprise. "Are you alright compadre?"
"I-I'm fine." you wince, rubbing your forehead. "Just having a stressful day, that's all."
Your vision clears and you find yourself facing a stallion with a light-grayish ember coat and a carpet cutie mark, accompanied by two others in similar bowling attire. There was something about them...something familiar.
"Ah, stress can be a real buzzkill, man. When we're stressed, we hit the bowling alley. You should come with us. Name's Jeff. Jeff Letrotski. But you can call me the 'Dude'."
[OMC. That. Is. Priceless.] you thought.
"This here's my main stal, Walter." the 'Dude' points to the buff stallion in sunglasses who nods. "And this is my guy, Donny."
"Hey, you must be that ape guy. What was it...Anthony? Anthill?"
"Anon." you say. Normally, you'd go hay-douken on anyone who called you an ape, but you're too damn glum to care.
"Donny, shut the buck up and take our stuff inside." Walter grunts.
"You got it, chief." he says, optimistically carrying the bowling gear away.
"So, whataya say?" Dude offers.
"I don't know. I don't think I'm mentally prepared to-"
"He's having mare issues." Spike chimes in.
"N-No I don't!" you exclaim. "It's a lie! A-A FALSE lie!"
"Doesn't that technically make it true?"
[...damn.]
"It's alright amigo. No fuss." Dude brushes off. "I remember the first mare I ever fell in love with. She was a little on the shy type, made the BEST jam in town, loved nature. But then, one day, she just up and left before I could ask her out. You know what I did afterwards?"
"Let me guess, you bowled?"
"Now yer gettin' it."
"Fine. Let's bowl, I guess." you sigh.
A little while later, the five of you enter the bowling alley, all but you walking in with such confidence. As you get closer to the lanes, you notice how expectant the bowling ponies were of Dude and his gang. They must've REALLY come here often. What you can't seem to wrap your head around about this is how the hell can these ponies carry 13 pounds of polyurethane with just hooves?!
[Then what are the fingerholes for, decoration?!]
Anyways, Donny signs all of you in as Dude bro-chats with the owner. The cheeky stallion attempts to sign you in as 'APE' until Walter pulls a slingshot on him, forcing him to change it to 'NON', right above 'DUD', 'WLT', 'DON', and 'STD'...
Wait, 'STD'?
"Spike, is that you, dude?"
"Yeah, I'm STD." he says. "Short for Spike The Dragon. What's wrong with it?"
"Oh, nothing, bro." you snicker.
"Alright, compadres. Let's bowl." Dude says proudly. "Anon, you're up."
On cue, a ball rolls in on the rack next to you. Like Loverboy says: 'Everyone's watchin'. You grab it and line up
[You can do this, Anon.] you think. [It's not a Wii remote to throw at the TV, but it'll do.]
You close your eyes, take a deep breath and popped every single joint in your hands as you slide the ball down the lane. It's going.....going....GUTTER.
Well...you suck.
"Is everything alright, bud?" Dude asks.
"Don't worry, I know what to do." Spike assures, flying towards your waist.
You rock to the familiar beat as you reach for the returning ball. It's your second attempt and you're NOT going to disappoint. You cut a rug as you toss the ball with finesse. It's going...going...STRIKE!!!
Or at least a spare if you count it.
The game goes on as you earn strike after strike thanks to your music mojo. After awhile, your stellar moves proved to be infectious as all the other bowling ponies STRIKE out to the beat.
It was official. Junior Senior makes the world go round.
Myth. Busted.
[And a one and a two and a-]
*STRIKE*
[Nailed it.]
It's over. Nine strikes, JUST like the Wii. Always bucked up on one. It was high-fives for you and your bro as the Dude approaches you.
"You were sick, my man!" Dude congratulates. The hip stallion attaches a nametag to you and Spike: 'The Man' and 'The Scales'. "Let's hit the sundae joint, on me."
Donny starts cheering only to be smacked upside the mane by ol' Walt.
"Woah, you sure about this Dude? We just bowled." you state.
"No sweat amigo." he assures. "You both are one of us now. This is how we do things, man."
"Can I sprinkle mine with gems?" Spike asks eagerly.
"Of course, my main dragon."
It was obvious the poor thing is probably STARVING for the good stuff after living with Egghead and you couldn't blame him. You and the others pack up and head to 'Hoofster's Ice Cream' for a well-deserved treat. Upon entering the chilly establishment, the gang plop down at the bar, chatting with Spike about something bowling related. As you prepare to join them, a couple sitting in the corner table of the place catches your eye.
They looked so happy together...
You sit at the bar next to Dude and rest your head on your hand.
"Mares, am I right, Man?" he chuckles.
You don't respond.
"It's a-okay, bro. We'll all find that special somepony in our lives eventually. Until then, we just go with the flow. You're the man, Man."
Dude slides you a wide cup of ice cream. You pick up the cup and gobble the thing to dust.
"How do you feel?" Spike asks.
"Keep. 'Em. Coming."