Crap, you'd forgotten about inviting your friends! You take one last glance at the mirror, reaching up with a hoof to push some of your mane out of your eyes. You turn away from the sink, dropping back down onto all fours and trotting over to the stairs. Said stairs, however, look like they're going to be a big problem for you. One glance at them tells you that a single trip will send you crashing down to the bottom and, knowing Derpy from the show, you'll probably leave a muzzle-shaped dent in the floorboards if you do.
The doorbell rings as you stand with your front hooves just slightly over the edge and try to force your eyes back into alignment so you contemplate your next move. Despite quite some effort, you find you cannot. That's odd, you could do that easily only a few minutes ago. That can wait, though. You reach a hoof forwards and place it on the next step down, then follow with the other. You then take a step with a rear leg, and swing around so that you're sideways with three hooves on the same step, and one still on the landing. The doorbell rings again, you're friends are getting impatient.
"Just a minute guys!" you shout towards the door, remembering too late that your voice is different. What are your friends going to think? How are they going to react when they see a grey, blonde-haired, fictional pegasus pony with an eye problem standing in the doorway? Maybe you should've just pretended you weren't here.
You continue your slow descent, moving to stand sideways on each step before shuffling down to the next one. It takes a while, but eventually you reach the floor, getting that warm feeling of accomplishment again. You trot over to the door, and hop up with your forelegs once again, gripping the handle in your teeth. You pause. Should you really be doing this? You release your grip on the handle. You don't actually know if the people out there are your friends.
What if they're the people that gave you that plushie, and they've come to kidnap you and sell you on the black market, or worse? You should probably use some sort of test.
"Who is best pony?" You ask to the door, shouting slightly to make sure you can be heard outside. Immediately, three voices respond from outside.
"Bon-bon!"
"Lyra!"
"Doctor Whooves!"
Yep, those are your friends alright.
"Also, uh, what's up with your voice? You got a cold or something?" One of them asks. You can't exactly tell who it is through the door.
"Not exactly. I'll explain once you're inside. Just promise not to freak out, okay?"
"Um, okay then... Yeah, sure."
You grip the door handle again and pull open the door, letting it swing open to reveal you to your three friends: James, Isaac and Jake. Isaac, who is in front of the other two, steps forward as if to enter. He then looks down and sees you. He freezes.
"What..."
"Bon-bon!"
"Lyra!"
"Doctor Whooves!"
Who the f!@# thinks bon bon best pony.
3906736
I bet Lyra does.