//------------------------------// // [Joke Chapter] Perchance To Dream [Joke Chapter] // Story: My Name Is Floyd Damn You! // by Grey Ghost //------------------------------// I wake up with a gasp, sitting up in bed and breathing heavily. I take a look around the room, feeling the tension flow out of me. I’m home, in my cluttered dorm room, props littering the place. “Oh, thank god...” I fall back onto the bed, laughing a little. “That's the last time I smoke peyote after midnight...” I’ve heard of those kinds of dreams before, with huge amounts of time passing. Thankfully, that's all it was, just a dream. I wasn’t dead. I wasn’t stuck in Equestria. And best of all, I wasn’t hijacking anyone’s body. I get out of bed, pull my clothes on, and head out into the shared dining room. I grab myself a bowl and pour myself some cereal. I’m so fucking glad I’m not stuck with hooves. I sit down to eat, only to realize, I didn’t grab a spoon. As I move to get up, I hear Roger leave his room, his door situated behind me. “Oh, hey bro, can you grab me a spoon?” I ask, not bothering to glance back at him. Silence fills the air, going on for a few minutes before I speak again. “Roger? You alright man?” Again, I get no response. I slowly turn my head, my heart pounding a mile a minute in my chest. I peer around, letting out a sigh of relief as I chuckle to myself. “Such an asshole, Floyd.” I turn back to my bowl. “Hello Floyd,” Pinkamina coos at me from her position in my lap, a demonic grin on her face. “I’m so glad you’re up.” Her voice gets deeper with each word, her one visible eye staring into my soul. “Wanna make some...” She reaches up to her covered eye, pulling a knife out with a horrible squelching sound. “Cupcakes...~?” “AAAAAHHHH!” I scream as I fall out of bed, my heart practically exploding in my chest. I land in a heap, buried in my blankets. “What!? Shale?! Are you alright!?” Blueblood asks as he scrambles out of bed and to my side. It only takes him a minute to free me from my encasement, a look of worry etched on his face. “Yeah, I’m fine Bluey... just a nightmare...” I smile at him, brushing some hair out of my face. I take a few breaths as I calm down, the adrenaline slowly fading from my trembling body. “That must have been one hay of a nightmare. What was it about?” he asks, sitting next to me, placing the blankets back on the bed. “Okay, get this,” I grin, recalling just how ridiculous this thing was, “So, in this dream, I was stillborn but got reborn as some random human named Floyd. Then I died again, got snatched up by Discord and then put into Pinkie.” “That does sound ridiculous, though I have to say being stuck in your sister's body must have been hellish.” I glare at him, then sock him in the arm. “Owie!” he whines, rubbing it like a foal. “If you’re done, I still have to tell you the rest of the story.” “Alright, alright, what is it?” he asked, frowning a little. “Well, I found out I was a reincarnation but then I woke up like it was all a dream. Then uh... that really scary version of Pinkie that I dressed up as for Nightmare Night showed up-” “Pinkamena?” “That’s her. Then I woke up.” “I told you not to finish that Sweet Apple Acres cider, it was way past it’s expiration date!” He scowls, thought I don’t really care at the moment. I get up, trotting over to my writing desk and sliding into my seat. “And what are you doing now?” “I have an idea.” I gather up my supplies, slipping my glasses on, and pick up my pencil. “It’s three in the morning!” he protests, but quickly gives up, knowing he’s not going to get through. “Writers...” he mumbles under his breath, presumably getting back into bed. “Love you too!” I call over my shoulder before diving headlong into my work. ‘Humans have always been a fascinating species. Growing up on a world out to kill them, humanity has long since mastered, or so they believe, their world, having fought their way to the top of the food chain. Our story is not about humanity as a whole, for that tale is much too long for anypony, save an alicorn. Instead, we shall be focusing on a singular human... A particularly interesting young man named Floyd Hendrix...’