Sleeping was now the newest irritation on Anon’s steadily growing list. The pony sized bed in the bedroom just wasn’t doing it for him, so he experimented with sleeping on the sofa in the living room, but even that was too small. His legs hung off the edge and the armrest was angular, so his legs were sore after a while. Anon hasn’t had a good night’s rest in a hot minute. Hell, he slept better in the wilderness. Anon groaned and craned his neck to look at the clock on the wall. Lucky for him, although the symbols were chicken scratch, the position of those symbols were identical to that of a human clock. The clock appeared to read 7 in the morning, give or take. Anon groans louder, as he had woke up around 5. Anon slowly rolled himself off the couch, plopping on to the wood floor with a resounding thud.
Anon laid there, with only the sounds of the wildlife beyond the walls of his-er, the house. It wasn’t his. That would imply he was staying here, in this small, quiet little town. Meeting the princess of the...town, that made little sense the more he thought about it, yesterday did help a bit in easing his anxiety about this place. Still, he wasn’t keen on hanging around. As bad as living in the Everfree was for his health, it almost felt natural. Like, he was placed back into the state of nature that the ancient humans lived in. A world where you didn’t know what to eat, where to sleep, or the creatures that went bump in the night. It’s like he was settling back into that caveman mindset of eat, sleep, and repeat. Yet, here he was, living in a house, talking with sapient beings again. He would have to relearn basic social etiquette, get a job, and who knows if taxes are a thing or shit like insurance. It’s like an immigrant rolling up on the shores of America, having to start from scratch in a new land and with a new language.
Anon was startled by a knock at the door. As far as he was concerned, no one should be up at this time, no matter the society. The knocking continued, in intervals of 3 knocks, a pause of a couple seconds, then another 3 knocks. Upon the fifth cycle, Anon finally got to his feet and sluggishly walked to the door. He opened the door a crack and peeked down. Sure enough, it was Spike, sadly with no food in hand this time.
“Why do you have to knock so damn loud?” Anon growled. Spike retracted his hand quickly
“But you wanted me to knock last time.” Spike said, confused.
“Yeah, but not that loud and not that much.”
“Then how am I supposed to knock?”
“That’s not my problem.” Anon yawned, the time catching up with him.
“Had a good night’s rest?” Spike smugly asked. Anon responded by crossing his arms, his head tilting upwards.
“You’re acting awfully smug for someone in punting distance.” Spike grimaced at the thought, unsure if Anon would actually do so.
“Well, I know of a place that can give you a little pick me up?” Spike said, nudging Anon’s legs. Anon raised an eyebrow.
“Uh, Spike.” Anon started, a little worried. “I really don’t think someone as young as you should really be suggesting such alternatives.”
“What?” Spike asked flatly. They both looked at each other in confusion before Anon sucked his teeth.
“Ooooh, right. Ponyland wouldn’t have that. I’m sorry, continue with what you were implying.”
“I was just gonna suggest we head over to Sugarcube Corner.” Spike said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the gingerbread house in the center of town. “Some sugary pastries should be enough to wake you.” Anon missed that last part as he cringed at the saccharine name of the establishment. This was something he was gonna have to get used to or else he’ll never make it. Before Anon could make an excuse not to go, his stomach blew the lid on that operation by growling loudly
“Guess a doughnut wouldn’t hurt.” Anon mumbled and left the comfort of his- the, he meant the- house. Spike scurried up his pant leg, to his cloak, and finally on his shoulder. Anon was gonna question until he thought better of it and went back.
This time around, the residents weren’t so fixated on him. Sure, plenty of eyes followed as he went, but less ponies were running and screaming. He figured that there might be some in the town who were more easily frightened than others. It’s weird, sometimes he could barely distinguish these clearly thinking and sapient ponies from just animals. It probably also helped that it was the early morning, so not as many ponies were walking about to be set off by his appearance.
In little time, they reached Sugarcube Corner. Anon stopped at the door.
“You can push through this time,” Spike said, that damned smile on his face. “No need to knock.”
Anon glared at the dragon, who was thoroughly enjoying himself, as he pushed through the doors. The place revealed itself to be a bakery, an empty one at that. Anon walked up to the counter and noticed a little bell. He taps the bell once. No response. He taps the bell twice. Still, no one came.
“Are you sure this place is open?” Anon asked Spike, who could only shrug. Anon looked behind him, scanning the bakery once more for any sign of life, only to find none. But when he turned back to the counter, his vision was completely consumed by bright pink fur, big blue eyes, and a set of pearly whites.
“Hiya!” Said the figure, as Anon reeled back.
“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Anon shouted, knocking Spike off his back as he backpedaled. He ended up tripping on the dragon as a result, falling on his ass and hitting his head on the floor. Anon sat up on his elbow with his arm, rubbing his head with his other hand. The pink pony let out an exaggerated gasp and leaped from behind the counter, pinning Anon’s legs with her muzzle right in front of Anon.
“Oh my Celestia!” The pony screamed, damn near making Anon’s ears bleed. One minute in and you wish you stayed on the floor. Your floor. The floor of the house you were living in. That floor. “I’ve never seen you before. And if I’ve never seen you before, then I’ve never thrown you a party before. AND if I didn’t throw you a party before-“ She was abruptly stopped by a pair of purple claws closing her jaw from behind. Spike peeked out with a nervous smile, as the pink pony continued to speak despite being muffled.
“Hehe, sorry about that.” Spike apologized on her behalf, since she clearly had no plans. “Pinkie does this with everyone she meets.” Pinkie, huh? What a creative name. You personally would’ve went with Rock Candy because she was clearly on that good shit. Spike let go of Pinkie’s muzzle after a few seconds.
“And if you weren’t born in Fairbanks, Alaska and served in Operation 40 in 1961, then you-“ The hyperactive horse stopped herself suddenly and blinked twice. Was that a reference? That felt like a reference. What was even the context of said reference. Oh God, this was gonna be a long day. “My name is Pinkie Pie. What’s your name?”
Anon stayed quiet for a moment, enjoying the brief silence of this hellish bakery he’s just entered. He briefly recalled talking with Spike earlier and has begun to realize that maybe he was talking about those alternatives. He pulls his hood a little lower and clears his throat.
“My name is Anonymous.” He states matter-of-factly.
“Ooh~ That’s a surprisingly normal name.” Pinkie uses a hoof to lift Anon’s hood up slightly, before shoving her face towards his until they were touching noses. Anon’s brow furrowed as he was completely blindsided by the action. “Is it because you wear this hood?” Anon pushes the eccentric equine back, causing her to slide away from him and across the floor.
“No.” Anon glared at her, to which she met back with only a smile. Anon felt something stirring within him, the same little thing that stirred when around Spike and when he met Twilight. But like hell was he going to let it influence him.
“Then why wear it, silly?” She moves to touch it again, before Anon’s hand snatched her hoof out of the air. She looked at the hand that grabbed her and the arm attached. She tilted her hand. “Hey, Nonny. Are you made of chocolate?”
“Don’t touch my-wait, what?” Anon was genuinely caught off guard by the question. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Spike snickering from behind Pinkie. Pinkie licked Anon’s hand, causing him to recoil in horror. “The hell is wrong with you!?” Pinkie didn’t answer as she smacked her tongue, clearly in thought as to the flavor she was currently investigating.
“Hmm. Sweaty, but also hairy.” She concluded, hoof under her chin. “But also smooth. Test inconclusive.”
“I’m not made of chocolate, you damn horse.” Anon wipes his hand on the cloak. “It’s melanin.”
“A melon?” Pinkie cocks her head. Anon resists the urge to facepalm.
“No, mel-la-nin. It causes pigmentation in skin, giving humans-wait, why am I explaining this to you?” Right then, Anon’s stomach growled, breaking his train of thought. Pinkie notices and smiles brighter than before.
“That’s the sound of a stomach in need.” Pinkie then began hopping in place. “I’ll be right back~” She sung as she bounced over the counter and into the kitchen, humming to herself along the way. Anon sat there, giving himself the time to recover from the past couple minutes. Anon looked to Spike for any sort of explanation, only to be met with a shrug and head shake. Seeing that he was just supposed to accept it, Anon stood up and took a seat at one of the tables. Spike joined him at the other end.
“Am I in some kinda cartoon world?” Anon asked, once he got settled.
“What do you mean?”
“It dawned on me with pink horse over there-“
“Pinkie. Pinkie Pie.”
“Yeah, whatever. No one in my world acts nor moves like that. Not to mention the bright colors and weird residents. It all screams fake to me.” Spike pondered Anon’s statement.
“It doesn’t feel fake to me.”
“Well, duh.” Anon waves Spike off. “You’re living it. You wouldn’t know your life is fake.”
“Well, what makes yours real?”
“Cause I come from a place that’s normal. Where ponies don’t suddenly show up and lick you, where ponies don’t build mirrors to alternate dimensions, and where ponies don’t live next to a deadly forest.” Anon picked up a donut and ate it. Little did Anon know, as he went about his raving, that Pinkie was setting the table before him. “By the way, why is the supposedly evil forest just an ass hair away from your village? That seems like a really dumb thing to do.”
“Uh.” Was all Spike could say, himself not sure of the particular history of Ponyville.
“Granny Smith would know about that!” Pinkie Pie interjected, now also seated at the table. “She was one of the first to settle here when Ponyville was founded. You can find her at Sweet Apple Acres.” Anon laid in his seat, now sipping a cup of tea that rested in front of him. He wasn’t the biggest fan of tea, but this one was so loaded with sugar that he could actually tolerate the taste.
“I don’t know if I care all that much.” Anon admitted. He took another sip, this one slightly better than the last.
“Well, you’re gonna go and meet everypony else, aren’t cha?”
“That wasn’t the plan. It also won’t be the plan.” Anon took yet another sip. Man, this tea is actually not that bad. Spike tapped his claws to his chin.
“That’s not a bad idea, Pinkie.” Anon saw Spike considering this and moved quickly to nip it in the bud.
“Nope. I’ve fulfilled my horse quota for the day. She alone has to have counted for five.” Spike and Pinkie both frowned.
“Aw, come on, Anon.” Spike pleaded. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just get it all out of the way now?”
“Or I could just, you know, not?” Anon finished his fifth donut, casually moving on to the sixth. While Anon indulged himself, Pinkie leaned over to Spike and began whispering in his ear. Anon looked on curiously, wondering what the two were planning. He suddenly saw Spike smile, with a hint of a blush. Anon raised an eyebrow, more curious than ever. Before he could ask though, Pinkie leapt from her seat.
“Well, if you’re going back home, the least I can offer you is a super duper special colossal milkshake?” Pinkie leaned towards Anon so far, she was practically balancing on her forehooves. Few things piqued Anon’s interest like a milkshake. And considering he actually liked the food provided so far, he didn’t mind the idea of one for the road.
“I mean, I guess, since you’re offering.” Anon relented, resting his arms on the table. Pinkie grinned her usual grin and once more hopped into the kitchen.
It wasn’t even a full minute before Pinkie came back to the table. However, upon her back, rested an enormous glass of milkshake, three times the size of the pony herself. Anon stared at the beverage incredulously.
“Where the hell did you get that!?” Anon said, preparing to leave the table. The milkshake tottered back and forth, as the pink pony struggled to balance the drink.
“From the kitchen, silly? Where else?” Talking seemed to have stolen Pinkie’s attention from balancing, as the milkshake began to tip towards one end. Realizing just soon enough, Pinkie began moving towards the other side. This stopped the milkshake from tilting in that direction squarely to the other. She repeated the process, scurrying around the bakery in an attempt to balance the truly colossal milkshake. But alas, it was no use as she tripped over herself in the process, causing the drink to spill...
...all over Anon.
“Oops.” Pinkie said, a hoof to her mouth. She gave a nervous giggle and blushed. “My bad.”
Anon was completely soaked. Drenched in what tasted like a strawberry-raspberry mix, Anon glared at the embarrassed pone.
“Well, there goes my one set of usable clothes.” Anon deadpanned, futilely attempting to clean himself of the creamy substance.
“There is someone who can make you a new set of clothes.” Spike said slowly, arms behind his back and eyes averted from Anon. That didn’t stop Anon from staring daggers at the dragon.
“You planned this.” Anon accused. “This was planned. I’m not stupid.”
“Yeah, we did.” Pinkie admitted, causing Spike to facepalm. “Buuuuut, did it work?” Anon wanted very badly to say it hadn’t, purely out of spite. But, then a shiver crossed his body as the cold beverage began to sink into his no-no zone. He sighed, standing up from the table.
“Come on, Spike. Pay the horse and take me to this someone.” Anon sounded defeated, both because he’d been forced into meeting another pony and that he was relying on a baby dragon to pay for his meal.
“Oh, there’s no need.” Pinkie assured Anon. “Consider it on the house. Or, I guess you could say, on you!” This seemed to amuse the pony greatly as she fell to the floor in a laughing fit. Every once and awhile, the pink one would let out a snort, nearly causing Anon heartache at the display. Before he could succumb, he makes his way to the door, praying he makes it through the day.