Introductions and Ulvas
Its summer break and today was another day of early morning cartoons, afternoon job hunting, and evening gaming. But sometimes Murphy likes to give wake up calls.
As I slowly regain consciences from my sleep deprived brain, I slowly became aware of a slight pressure tickling my nose.
I try multiple times to remove the annoyance via hand swatting, but it simply keeps coming back. I swear I hear giggling every time I do it too.
Finally giving up, I open my eyes to something that will change the course of my life.
A pink horse the size of my pinkie finger was sitting on my nose.
After staring a few seconds of staring the cotton candy colored horse made a noise in a chipper tone no one had a right to use at 7 a.m. <“Hi, I’m Pinkie Pie!”>
I give a yelp and jerk, but was cut off by the pink horse.
Who, by Murphy’s sadistic nature, fell screaming into my mouth.
“WHAT THE – GAK!”
“AAAAAAHH – GAK!”
A part of my brain took notice that the pink pony had a sickening sweet flavor.
The majority however was freaking out that I had small equine starting to travel down my esophagus.
So much so that I wasn’t prepared when the horse hit me in the uvula.
"URK!"
Pitching myself over to the side of my bed I threw up the horse onto my bedroom floor, leaving a very traumatized miniature pony .
As I lay there gasping for air, I hear a tiny noise.
<“YUCK! I’m all wet and slimy!”>
As I lay there gasping, I started to focus on the diminutive equine. She was two shades of pink and some others colors on her butt. She was a little wet, but didn't really look like she just got regurgitated. So far the only noise I've heard it make is something that sounds like a horse doing some non-nonsensical singing, if that makes any sense.
Ok, my mind MAY have accepted tiny horses. Technology was turning out crazy things these days. But I knew two things. One, she didn't taste like anything synthetic.
And two, her name was Pinkie Pie. One of the main six from My Little Pony. And Hasbro, last time I checked, weren’t making miniature robotic replicas that sing.
After a few seconds of firing electrons along my cerebral cortex, I came up with what was probably the most suitable thing to say in this sort of situation.
“What. The. Hell.”