] Lug your fat American ass down to McDonalds today!"So where are we going?" My companion, Lyra, asks me.
"I'm not too sure. We're walking to the entertainment district, I want to get something to eat at a nicer place. Then a movie or something" I say.
"Okay. So do the two of you always argue?"
"Pff. Yeah, she's always a bitch"
"Maybe she's trying to make things be right, at least in her mind"
I'm silent as I think this through.
"Anyways, what you hungry for? I know this side of town pretty well"
"I was thinking pizza. Sound good?" I ask.
“Yeah. There’s a good place down the road a bit” Lyra says.
The two of us continue walking.
You ready for a random perspective shift?
Huh?
You’re confused. What did the voice mean about a random perspective shift?
You continue walking with your friend Lyra to the pizza parlor.
You and her continue talking. Not about anything in particular, but just chatting.
Vinyl Scratch, be another character. But who shall you be? And how shall that new character be relevant to the story? And it’s not displaying very good writing skills by introducing another main character at this point, is it? And why are we ripping off the Homestuck transition slightly? Find out the answer to these questions and more on next times episode of The Monster Inside! Now for these important messages from my sponsors!
Brought to you by McDonalds! When’s the last time you ate, you fat piece of lard? Five minutes ago? Ten? *Gasp* Fifteen?! Well, no matter how long, it’s been way to fucking long! [] Lug your fat American ass down to McDonalds today!
Also by, Darth Fader! I find your lack of bass... Disturbing. You, do not know, the power, of bass. [
] Come to the darkside of the beat. We have wobbles.
In part by, Nazi puns! How did jew nazi this coming? Anne Frank-ly, I’m surprised you didn’t! That’s right, keep Goebblesing these up. That’s it, I’m done. I’m gassed. I’m baked as well right now.
Brought to you by: U No Poo! Why are you worrying about You-Know-Who, when you should be worrying about You No Poo! The constipation sensation that's gripping the nation! Get yours today at Fred and George's joke shop!
Also by: Politicians! Who else w-I-ll enforce their own mora-L- views on the popu-L-ace? After all, we have to have someone telling -U-s that weed kills people, abortion is a -M-oral sin, and that you can’t fr-I-ck frack with whoever you want. And then have the balls to take your gu-N-s so you can’t shoot the thanksgiving turkey, forcing you to buy -A- turkey from the nearest Sams Club. A-T-ter all, gotta feed capitalist Amer-I-ca!
Sponsored By: Your local garbage disposal company! Who else will take all that useless shit off your hands? We'll throw it all in a big pile, where it will take up a large plot of land, slowly degrade, and pollute the Earth! Who needs recycling?
And last but not least by, your local anti-gay committee! Here’s a few reasons why gay marriage shouldn’t be allowed. One, I find it disgusting. I also find peas disgusting, so up next on my political hit list is banning the consumption of peas. Two, society can never adapt to such a radical change. I mean, my point is already proved by electricity, cars, and the internet! Never adapted to those, have we? Three, I don’t want my children going to school to learn how to have gay sex. I don’t need to explain why this point is self evident! Four, if we do this, a mystical immortal space jew will cause the end of the world. This same mystical space jew requires us to give him praise every week or else he will have self esteem issues, and tell his mystical space father and mystical space ghost to destroy us.
Hahaha. Who am I kidding? I don’t have sponsors. I just wanted to waste your time, and make you laugh at the same time. Now back to your scheduled programming.
You and your friend arrive at the pizza parlor. A slight wind picks up, and you can feel it teasing your main and tail.
"Come on, let's eat" Lyra says. She opens the door for you, and the two of you enter.
The waiter sits you and your friend at a booth. "What can I start you two young mares off with? We proudly serve Faygo products"
"Faygo?" Lyra asks.
"I'll have Moon Mist" you say.
"Same, I suppose" Lyra agrees with you.
"Alright. I'll be right back with your drinks, and then I shall be back with your order" he says.
He leaves and quickly gives you your drink, and Lyra hers.
Elsewhere
You busy yourself in the kitchen. The sizzling of the green bell peppers in oil fills your ears, along with a light piano track you have playing.
You pause a moment, sensing the bow tie is off centered. You check your reflection of a teapot. A fifteen degree deviation from parallel. Unacceptable. You straighten it, and fix it so its in a more acceptable position. Your mother gave it to you after a rather... unfortunate happening.
You push the memories down. No need to focus on the past when you're in the present.
You put a clove of garlic on a cutting board, and quickly and efficiently dice it with your hooves. You then scrape them into the pan with the sautéing peppers, and add some seasoning.
You wait a few moments, and then put the peppers with the rest of the prepared meal, consisting of mainly of a barley and pepper sandwich, and a side of salad.
You sit down at the table, and eat your meal. Your dorm is rather silent for once, as your abominable room mate is out.
Something lights up from our shared room. You try and focus just on your meal. But you want to snoop on her going ons so badly.
One peek can't hurt. You abandon your meal for a moment, and walk into the room.
You look at the offender, a computer. It’s back to the screen saver, a spinning record, with a red inner circle, and a jagged scratch running through it. You look for the mouse. You find it, but in the left hoof position. Never knew she was a lefty.
You tap the mouse, and the screen flickers on, lighting up the previously dark room. You blink, your eyes having already adapted to the darkness. You look at the screen, and try and comprehend what your seeing. In the top right corner is that same spinning record, and some character with a pair of sunglasses on.
You realize it’s her email inbox. You look at the newest one, from a sender named U-PON-2. You wonder who it can be. You move the mouse, and click on the email.
Hey Vinyl. We listened to that drum demo you sent us, and was wondering if you’d be interested in our band. As you most likely know, we’ve only got us a bassist and guitarist, so someone with your skill set would be pretty good. Get back to us whenever. Oh, and my brother is waiting for another date with you.
You sit for a moment, trying to figure out what you read. Maybe she applied for a band?
“You find anything interesting?” She says. She’s so close to you, you can feel her hot breath on the back of your neck.
You jump, shocked you didn’t hear her. “Th-this is-sn’t-t what it l-looks l-like!” You stutter.
“Oh really?” She takes a few steps, giving you your breathing room. You’re glad, as you don’t do well when you feel crowded. “Then enlighten me”
Your attitude goes back to it’s normal condescending tone. Just as father taught you. “Enlighten? Didn’t know you had enough brain cells to rub together to use such big words. Good job, Vinyl. Maybe antidisestablishmentarianism is next?”
She looks at you with a blank look. “What?”
“Thought so” You sneer. “So you’re trying for a band, then? Figures”
“Whaddya mean by that? Bands are good music”
“Yes. Lots of thrashing about on a non classical four and six stringed instruments, hitting three drums, and pointless screaming is considered good music. And your phrasing was wrong with that sentence. It’s not ‘bands are good music’, it’s ‘bands have made some good songs’”
“It’s not ‘you’re being helpful’, it’s ‘your being a little bitch’”.
“Takes one to know one” You say.
“The last time I heard that, I was a single celled protozoa” She quips back.
“Well, maybe I underestimated your knowledge”
She advances a step. “And it’s not just pointless screaming. It’s-”
You cut her off. “Let me stop you. From how you worded that sentence, your implying there is some pointless screaming”
She briskly walks up to you, and gets right in your face. You’ve only ever seen one other person look so angry. She would give your dad a run for his money.
Her face is inches from you, and her right hoof raised to smack you across the face with a brutal back hand. You stand your ground, straightening up from your already tall position, making yourself a good six inches taller than her. You glare down at her, and her purple eyes glare right back up at you. You heart beats quicker, expecting a fight.
It infuriates you that her, someone lower class than you, would even think about, much less actually, stand up to you and your superior class. You lean over her, fully intending to use your superior height and size against her.
She crouches down a little, slightly intimidated by your technique. She pulls her lips back and growls at you.
“Don’t touch my stuff again” She says in a low voice.
You interpret this as an olive branch, to avoid the fight that is brewing. “Fine” You back up, and back down. She takes a few steps back, and straightens up fully.