//------------------------------// // What?? // Story: Vinyl Scratch Is in Your Bed, Being a Nuisance // by Paulicus //------------------------------// You open the door to your apartment, fumbling to put the keys back in your pocket. This is your third consecutive graveyard shift, and the stress of working all night is starting to grate your nerves. It wouldn't be so bad, if you were working your regular shift, but that damn kid – What was his name... Aaron? Andy? – got himself fired for coming into work drunk. Idiot. Oh well, at least you're making some extra money this month. You drop your bag on the living room floor, too tired to care. Your roommate is a typical college student, and probably only went to bed an hour ago. Your stomach grumbles. Sleep can wait long enough for breakfast. You turn on the stove and set some bacon to frying. While that's going, you need to get out of this work shirt. It chafes. That's when you first see her. You're standing in the door to your bedroom, shirt half-off. Your bed is decidedly not empty. Splayed out on top of the messed-up covers is what looks like a small horse with a white coat. Her mane and tail are made of alternating hues of blue. They look tousled and rough-cut. A black, bridged music note is on her flank. A white horn juts out between her bangs, and a pair of oversized purple sunglasses sits on the table nearby. You stare for a few moments, not believing your eyes. You close them and shake your head, trying to will away what is obviously a hallucination brought on by a lack of sleep. When you open your eyes again, however, the unicorn remains. You've watched a fair bit of that new My Little Pony show, some of your friends are really into it, so it's not hard to recognize what you're seeing. This is one of the characters... A DJ, right? Vital Slap? Viral Clap? You can't remember. But what's she doing in your room?? The absurdity of the situation is too much. You can't help but cry out with a befuddled, “...What??” The unicorn lets out a startled snort and stirs. Her eyes crack open and look in your direction. “Oi... not so loud, dude,” she says groggily. She glances around the room. “Damn it's bright in here.” She turns over and buries her face in the pillow. You hear a muffled, “Five more minutes, 'kay?” You stand, dumbfounded. There's a talking horse in your bed. “Wha... what are you doing here?” She groans through the pillow and rolls off the bed. A purple aura surrounds the sunglasses and they float towards her, settling onto her face. She chuckles. “Heh, no idea, buddy. Last thing I remember was drinking with Neon... I think we started doing some Jager bombs, then everything gets kinda fuzzy.” She yawns. “Where am I, anyway?” “Seattle.” “Seaddle?” “Seattle.” “Huh.” She shrugs. “Name's Vinyl Scratch. You?” You open your mouth to respond, but pause. You're half-naked in your bedroom, half-dead from working all night, exchanging pleasantries with a cartoon horse. What's happened to your life? Vinyl sniffs the air. “What's that? Breakfast?” She walks by you towards the kitchen. After piecing your brain back together, you follow. “Wait... seriously, how did you get here? You're not supposed to be here.” “I told ya. Drank too much, woke up here. Easy story – Can I have some of that?” “The bacon? It's meat. Are ponies even supposed to –” You hear a door open down the hall. A faint groan and the shuffle of feet on carpet tells you that your roommate has just woken up. Shit. “Hey roomie, I smell bac–” He enters the kitchen and stops short “–uh... what's going on?” You reluctantly greet him. “Hi, Carl." “'Sup?” Vinyl Scratch says, still sniffing out breakfast. Carl glances between you and the pony greeting him in the kitchen. “I... did someone send you a birthday present or something, dude? Is it your birthday?” You roll your eyes. “What? No. No one sent her here. I just got back and found her in my room.” “Hey, I'm no package,” Vinyl says. “Well, maybe. But I'm not nearly cramped enough to have been sleeping in a box. That bed's pretty comfy. Happy birthday, by the way." "What? No, it's not my birthday." You say, confused. "Oh?" Vinyl shrugs and grins. "Good, I don't need to make up an excuse about not having a gift. Now, about that bacon...” “Seriously, Vinyl, you're a pony. I don't think you can even eat meat.” She lifts her glasses and gives you an adorable pout. “But... bacon.” Carl grins. “She's got a point.” You roll your eyes, grab a piece of bacon, and hand it to the unicorn. A huge smile splits her muzzle. She handles it gingerly until it cools, then stuffs in into her mouth. “Wow! By Celestia, that's good!” The three of you sit down for a quick breakfast. Sated, you get up and make for your bed. It beckons. “Uh, dude? What are you gonna do about...” Carl tips his head towards the pony sitting up against the refrigerator, rubbing her stomach with satisfaction. “No idea. I'll figure something out. But first, sleep.” You leave him there, awkwardly looking anywhere but at the pony next to him. For all the situations he's gotten you into, you figure this is the least you owe him. You shut the door to your room, toss off your work shirt, and settle into bed. Finally, you can get some shut-eye. Just as you get comfortable, you hear your door click. Hoping it isn't what you think, you pretend not to notice until you feel someone – or is it somepony – climb up onto the bed next to you. You groan inwardly. At least you sprung for the queen-size. Fine, whatever. You try to relax. Right now, all you need is sleep. You're interrupted by a fuzzy limb snaking its way over your midsection, and a matching body brushing your back. Your eyes shoot up and you turn towards the source of the fuzziness. “Whoa, whoa. Vinyl, really? I don't even know you.” She looks at you with that pouty face again. “But I can't sleep alone, and my usual cuddle-buddy is all the way back in Seaddle.” “Seattle?” “Seaddle.” Sigh. “Whatever.” She grins, closes her eyes, and snuggles into your back. This is going to be an interesting day...