Author's note: This chapter is crucial to the development of the plot, but the bulk of it is just one giant rant, with more than enough choice language to share with your friends. You've been warned...sorta.
Right from the get-go, I'm already pushing my logic and reason to the limits, which in turn forces me to literally think out loud, as my mind itself is already in overdrive.
"This...is not good." I say I start pacing, every now and then sitting down at the desk, but staying seated when I near the end of my rant.
To most ponies, it would look like I'm paranoid to the point of insanity; however, I know that this is simply just my brain at 100%: pairing together countless different possible series' of events, let alone the different outcomes for each one, as well as what effect one action would have in this way, this way. and that way, and how a different action would affect those same 'ways', using probability to predict a course of action, possible reasons for and against each possible action, possible motives for each action already taken, AND having to do all of that and more for each of the six mares involved!
If you'd like an example of this 'orgy of logic', just look at the sentence above!
This is simply a mess, by several definitions of the word!
"First off, how the fuck does this even start? I wake up, and all six of them already have a readily-developed crush on me? Considering, they were informed all about me, 'all' being verbatim, but surely that isn't sufficient enough for a crush? Especially the lascivious look that Rainbow gave me, AND I HADN'T EVEN TAKEN MY FIRST STEP YET!
"Not to mention that Roy Orbison growl! Hell, he's famous for that for when he did it in his song 'Pretty Woman', which is about wooing an attractive woman, which is obvious due to the name of the song, though under my circumstances the gender roles would be reversed.
"Then another possibility: is the connotation of the word itself different? I'm certain that the definition is the same, but perhaps the magnitude is significantly lowe -- no! That doesn't work!
"And again, how is it mathematically probable for all six to have such an immense crush on me?! Rarity always has her fancy on royals, which is no comparison to me, who just got here around...brunch? I would think?
"Rainbow Dash is by far more on the Wonderbolts than on anything else. Wait! She's even been single her entire damn life! Why was she the lascivious one?! What it just sarcasm? Did she really want to fuck me? Or was she simply fucking with me?! Or was I simply mindfucked still from the process of fading...in? From whatever location it was I was with Celestia, assuming that was a location at all?!
"Moving on, Fluttershy has that suffix in her name for a reason! She's shy! To say that having an immense crush on somepony she's never even met before would be uncharacteristic of her would be blasphemous at how much of an understatement that is!
"Furthermore...oh for FUCK'S sake, I don't know where to begin to think in regard to Pinkie Pie! She's much too happy-go-lucky and care free to get seriously involved with a huge crush! Let alone with the same circumstances applied the other five! In all of Equestria, Pinkie Pie would likely be one of the last ponies I would ever expect to be serious with romance at all! Not that that's a bad thing, if not the contrary! As much as I hate envy as a whole, Pinkie Pie's attitude toward the fun in life is one that I can not resist to envy! She's to busy laughing in the face of reality itself to be concerned with much of the seriousness attributed to romance! Huh...laughing in the face of reality itself...how fitting.
"But then there's STILL Twilight! She's one of the nicest ponies one could dream of meeting, but she's so damn dedicated to her studies that she's made herself to damn anti-social! And even if she were to be serious about a crush, such serious romance is too complex to rely solely on books, as without experience books won't teach you jack SHIT!"
"WHAT! THE! FUCK! IS! GO! ING! ON!"
I slam my head on the desk as I say each syllable of that last sentence, and leave it laying there after I'm done. For some odd reason, that has always been the only kill-switch to my 'logic-rants', but though it -- obviously -- does hurt, the longterm consequences pale in comparison to what it would be like otherwise -- I would have been killed several times over already by strokes alone! And...speaking of alone, I now realize that I wasn't. Without even lifting my head, I open an eye and see all six of the aforementioned mares standing just inside the doorway, mouths agape. I still don't honestly know why I even bothered to ask my next question.
"How much did you hear?" I ask in a monotone.
With a sigh, I'm given my response: "How much do you think?"
With one last slam of my head on the desk, I utter one final word.
"Fuck."