Static.
Black snow.
Hissing.
Muffled noises. Breaths? Voices?
"Fun!"
"Mrmfff... y-you hear that?"
"Fun!"
More rustling.
The black snow shifts.
A sense of movement, of pivoting upright.
A hand slides into frame, then sideways.
Click.
There's a splash of bright vanilla light, cascading over the edge of a bed and an accompanying table that houses a desk lamp.
Off in the distance, bathed in the charcoal black fuzz of dead-of-night shadows, a stream of digits flicker pink and vibrant. Everything is too far away for the camera to get a proper focus.
The camera shakes, wobbles, but mostly steadies into an upright landscape frame, capturing the dimly-lit bedroom beyond the bed.
"Shhhh... listen."
Silence.
"Fun!"
The string of digits across the room flicker in time with the chirping electronic outburst.
"Fun!"
"...Did you see it?"
"Fun!"
The camera operator's free hand points towards the flickering across the room.
"It's coming from the stereo system. From inside it."
The pink flicker vanishes.
Somewhere else, a noise echoes. The cell phone lens jerks over, catching a rectangular solid of strobing fuchsia.
"Fun! Fun! Fun!"
"It's coming from the computer now. Mrmmfff... I don't even have the stupid thing plugged in..."
The computer monitor dims.
There's a pulse of pink high above.
The camera tilts upwards, then struggles to focus in on the relocated source of light.
"Now it's in... ... ... the smoke detector...?"
"FFFUNNN!!! FFFUNNN!!! FFFUNNN!!!"
The phone camera wobbles visibly as the user nearly falls out of bed.
"Augggh! Jack Kerouac's bladder! Pinkie!"
"FFFUNNN!!! FFFUNNN!!! FFFUNNN!!!"
"Pinkie Pie!!!"
"FFFFFFUNNNNNN!!!!!"
"Pinkie Pie, g-get out of the smoke detector! I need that for... f-for carbon monoxide! And stuff!"
All electronic devices throughout the room (and presumably the rest of the house) start flickering on and off with otherworldly pink light. The vague facsimiles of cupcakes and confetti and party balloons manifest in electroplasmic laser light shows across the ceiling and walls.
"FUNNN!!!"
"FUNNN!!!"
"FUNNN!!!"
"Pinkie!!!"
"FUNNN!!!"
"Pinkie, not now! I'm trying to sleep!"
"FUN FUN FUN!!!"
"For the love of Mark Z. Danielewski's sideburns! You're worse than Rarity...!"
Suddenly, the entire camera feed flickers with pink static.
A poofy mane of candy-colored hair flounces in and out of view from opposite angles.
A pair of sea-blue eyes peer into the viewer's soul, followed by ivory teeth and a grinning muzzle.
"Heeheehee! Hi there!"
"Oh no..."
"Do you wanna play?!"
"She's in the phone..."
"~All you gotta do is take a cup of flour; add it to the mix!~"
"Dang it! Get out of the phone, Pinkie! I'm using it...!"
"~You gotta shaaaaaare! You gotta caaaaaaare!!~"
"Okay, if you're viewing this..."
"~Giggle at the Ghostiiiiess~"
"My house is friggin' haunted with ghosties! I mean..."
"~WHOOP IT UP WITH THE WEEPYYYY~"
"HORSE GHOSTS! HORSE GHOSTS LIVE IN MY HOUSE!"
The camera wobbles back and forth, as if it's being assaulted by a swarm of Cloverfield monster spawns, only pink and fuzzy and smelling of cake frosting. The bedroom is a kaleidoscope of salmon-colored lightshows at this point.
"Someone! Please! Go fetch the... cyborg children of Ed and Lorraine Warren! Or Edgar Cayce's chimpanzee! Or somebody! ANYONE!"
"FUNNNNNNNNN!!!!!"
"She's coming out of the Zora Neal Hurston's dang wallssss...!!"
A mouse cursor zips into view.
It clicks in the center of the feed.
The chaos pauses. The audio goes utterly silent.
The cursor streaks away from the media window of a Youtube Clip labeled: "- Horse Haunting Journal - 05/06/2021 - Pinkie Pie In the Bedroom -"
The mouse clicks on the comment field. A text icon blinks, and the words materialize:
"Bad Aftereffects. Fake and Gay. But not Gay Enough."
The mouse icon clicks "Send."
Then downvotes the clip.
Then clicks a thumbnail to a Fortnite video along the right side of the window.