Like an Angel
How dare they. They smile, thin lipped, barely holding in their displeasure. Thinking me, a perfectly sentient creature, cannot see them, even though I would be blind otherwise. They belittle me, their stares ever judging, thinking I am just a stupid thing with a bad attitude. They look down on me. Their high and mighty attitudes will be their destruction. They assume I am just a little insignificant fluff. They are wrong, very, very wrong. I am small, yes, but I have wits shaper than anyone, even sharper than that...that patchwork quilt. Yes, that is what I shall call him. That insipid worm thinks he is better than me. Him! Better than me! Ha! And his attitude! He makes all those goo-goo eyes, and that blushing at her, thinking she likes him back.
Actually, you know, she has been a little preoccupied lately, even more than she should be. She drinks more chamomile tea of the late, which is because she wastes all the supply of good tea on Tuesdays. She seems to sing more, and sometimes seems to blank out sometimes, forgetting my dinner on more than one occasion. Always staring out of the window, too, at the green grassy fields beyond the little cottage where she picks her flowers, and she keeps plucking those red and yellow blossoms to decorate the house, twirling the stalks and sighing. And she gets excited. Really, Super excited when Tuesday comes round. She sequels and giggles, choosing exotic food items to serve to beard-face. She also seems a little down after snake-donkey leaves, too. And whenever he writes her a letter, she goes all "Squee!!!" And her eyes will grow to the size of those green self-grown cabbages I like. Mmmmm. Cabbages.
Anyway, she always spends an hour on Tuesdays, packing and dusting the house and agitating the Magpies by discovering the little trinkets they hide about the household, making everything neat and tidy, which is strange, since mismatch prefers the messy chaos. So she likes when he comes over. So does all this mean she likes...
No, no, no! I will not let that chimera win! His condescending smirk and toothy grin, full of canines that could chomp my head in a bite, will overwhelm me if I let it! I will not allow it!
You will see, Distort! No one messes with Angel bunny! No one! No pony!
Angel will rule all!
~~~
Fluttershy could have sworn she had heard something. something that sounded like a bunny with a bad attitude, laughing his head off manically.
She shrugged.