“Marge, get out here and help me dig a well!” the windows of the house vibrated just a bit as he yelled. Margarine, that’s what he calls me now. It’s a bit strange having hooves, and a ridiculous name from a children’s television show doesn’t help, but that must be the price of immortality. A bit of indignity must be worth a life without death, maybe. Anyway, why is he digging a well? We have running water already, I guess that’s what happens when you’re an ass and become a horse. Should I reply to him? Nah, he can yell all he wants, I’ve got better things to do.
“Margarine, get out here and help me dig a well!” Does he really think that I care enough to help him, I don’t actually ever recall being his friend, just someone who was willing to humor him, I think I’ve had enough.
“Why Mumbles?” Once again, having absurd names does help add indignity into anything as simple as calling out the name of somepony you hate.
“If we have to survive a dimensional shift, then we might not have software, nor running water to make our lives easier.” He looked into the window, the fool actually looked a bit concerned. This might not be part of his typical asinine antics.
Maybe I’ll give him a bit of my time, it’s the least I can do for him, especially if he’s legitimately trying to preserve our lives. I left my home, which, by the way, is the best house in Equestria. It’s green and blue, and on one side it sparkles in the sunlight, being generally amazing. Nonetheless, I still have to leave it occasionally, in general, I do so every day, less if Mumbles is around.
I’m sorry, I was probably rambling. Anyway, I end up leaving through the front door, which is the big red thick one, big iron hinges, if not iron, something close that it barely matters. I’m sorry, I’m still taking about my house.
Mumbles, the ass who turned into a horse, had obtained a pair of shovels to dig out a well. Where he managed to find them, I cannot even imagine.
It was clear that he was very agitated. “Are you sure you are alright?”
“No, you never asked earlier, so thus I would not be sure that I was alright. I was suddenly possessed by the idea that it would be necessary to dig out a well and actually start working because we might not be in a software simulation.” He shrugged. “I know, it doesn’t seem to make much sense to me either, but it came with such a sense of urgency that I thought it would be better than nothing.”
“Whether or not this actually happened, the story is so impressive that I might as well help.” I lied, the story was not so impressive, it was just the kind of thing that he would think up to deceive me back on Earth. Oh yes, I just to clarify, I am a colt, Marge is often thought of as a woman’s name, but that isn’t because their full first name is Margarine. Back to what I was saying before I lost my concentration again, it is not so much his story, as it is the genuinely concerned look on his face. He was very good at mimicking facial expressions, it had to be genuine if it was on his face. That, and my house would be even more impressive with a decent well in front of it.
“Thanks for helping with this Marge. I’m not sure that either of us would survive without the help from each other.” Okay, so he’s starting to become too genuine, so much so that I currently find myself scared beyond belief. I spend the next few hours helping Mumbles here dig his well. I find myself frightened, possibly because what he said sounds too much like he is coming on to me. Now what indeed. The well is pretty much built, this game was meant to be about having friends, not building challenging structures, so the work is not particularly exhausting. I guess that it is a good thing that this didn’t happen with Minecraft. Mumbles leaves and thanks me for my help. I’m not really sure. The idea catches on in my brain, I feel a certain sense of dread. Maybe it would be a good idea to start a farm.