"Why are you here, Rainbow Dash?" I ask myself. My head is starting to throb with pain again, though the last headache has just left me. 'I can't just let her lay there like that. Or is it lie there?,’ my mind contemplates, ‘No, I think it's lay there. Wait, Now is not the time for grammar.’ I spin my chair to face my desktop computer and shake the mouse to wake the thing from it's slumber and look at the task bar. "Eight thirty, eh. Well, this is gonna be one eventful day." I said. "What to do? I mean I can't just leave her there like that."
For a few moments, I sat there thinking about what to do. My cats pawed at the bedroom door, meowing for my attention. Normally, I would've opened my door and let them in to run around for a few minutes before they go into another room and nap, but today was different. I stand up. "Oh yeah, today is different alright. I have a magical fucking pony from a kid's show that I have only seen because my friend made me." I rant as I walk around the room venting my anger. My cats continue to scratch and meow at my door. I can't take the annoyance anymore and open my door and yell, "What the hell do you want, you ungrateful, little fucks!" As soon as I opened the door, the cats shot past me and started rubbing up against the unconscious, humanized Rainbow Dash. As I watched my two cats, rub against the girl I start to calm down. "Why am I so angry with her? It's not her fault that this happened." I thought. I shew the cats away and lift the girl in a princess carry and place her on my bed. I decide to let her wake up by herself.
-------[A few hours later]-------
I sit at my desk, working on a mandatory essay for the English class I have to take. "Fucking class, why do I have to take it? I suck at writing about ethics. Maybe I can get some inspiration from watching Doctor Who. I mean he’s all about ethics and what not." I said as I slip a disc from my Doctor Who DVD set into my computer. The title screen just pops up when I hear, and feel, a faint rumble. It came from my stomach. “Huh, guess it’s time for breakfast.” I say to my stomach. Looking at my watch, “Correction, it’s time for lunch.”
I walk into the living room and notice that the lamp, in the corner of the room, has fallen down. ‘That must have been what the cats knocked over earlier.’ I thought as I pick up the lamp. Noticing shards of glass on the floor, I check the bulb and see that it’s broken. ‘Damn cats, always knocking shit over.’ I unplug the lamp and move it to the center of the room and head into the kitchen to pick up the broom and dustpan. heading back into the living room, I sweep up the shards of the light bulb and head back into the kitchen once the bulb is thrown away. ‘Maybe I should get her to make me the sandwich.’ I think half-jokingly as I make a sandwich. After my lunch is made, I head back into my room, to just see a waking Rainbow Dash.
“Where am I?” She says with her hand to her head.
"Well, that is gonna be hard to explain." I reply. She looks up and screams as she sees me. Instead of being stunned like last time, I quickly run over and cover her mouth. "Jesus, stop screaming so much. It's really annoying." I command her. She stops screaming from beneath my hand. "Are you done or- SON OF A BITCH!" she bites my hand before I can finish.
"What did you do to me?!" she yells. "I didn't do anything," I respond, "Now will you let me talk?" She quiets down but stares at me with her pink 'Wait not really pink, it looks too purple. Magenta maybe?' Eyes shooting daggers into me. "Okay then let's start off with my name, I'm Nick, hi. As you can see, you are not a small horse anymore nor are yo..." I start but get interrupted by Rainbow.
"Just explain why I'm here." she interrupts.
"Bitch." I mutter my breath. "Basically, you just fucking appeared on my bed last night in a rain of magical, purple sparkles. How or why, I don't have a goddamn clue, but you did." I explain quickly. She shows no recognition of last night either. “Nothing? Seriously, I can’t be doing everything here. I’m not Morgan fucking Freeman.”
“Who?” she asks. As she speaks, the covers, once again, fall down.
“Jesus Christos!” I quickly turn about. “We gotta do something about… about that.” I wave my hand in her general direction.
“About what?” she replies, looking around.
“My conscience,” I mutter “No, your clothing situation. In this world, people wear clothes outside. Especially now since it’s winter. Well, actually it’s fall, but in Wisconsin, Fall is Winter.” I look around for some article of clothing, be it a shirt or some pants. A red shirt catches my eye and I immediately throw it at her face.
“Ow! What the hay was that for?” The technicolor haired girl asked.
“Put this on, for the love of whatever deity you believe in, put it on!” I exclaim. After a few moments pass with the sound of someone obviously having difficulty, I peek around at the queer girl and see her struggling to get the shirt on. "Do you need help with that?" I painfully ask.
"No!" she quickly replies. She continues to flail about, trying to get the right appendage in the right hole. By the looks of it, she isn't used to her body. 'I sure could get used to her body, wait noo, bad brain. Stop going through puberty damn it. I can't be around her. I'm done.' I then proceed to leave the room.
“I’m done. I’m done. I’m done.” I continue to pick up Muffles and sit on the couch.
“Meow.” said the calico cat.
“I don’t care if you don’t like being held, I’m doing it.” I respond.
“Meow!” she growls. several minutes of back and forth between my cat and I, she grasps my hand and begins clawing and biting.
“OW!” I scream as the cat runs away “Fine then cat, I don’t need you. Also you ain’t getting no treats.” The cat continues to run into another room and do cat things. “Now what do I do? Oh yeah, I forgot about the human pony in my room. She’s had ten minutes to get the shirt on, so let’s go see her progress.” I get off the couch and head back into my room. “How’s wrestling th---” I stop as I see that a certain magical talking pony is gone. I notice that the window is open and snow has been knocked off the sill. “Well, fuck.”