The Experiment: Procedure and Data Collection
"Please remain seated. Your ride vehicle will begin moving momentarily."
The automated, impersonal recording wasn't welcome. In fact, it was jarring. The ride came to an abrupt halt, and I was left in a tiny metal vehicle in the dark... with Sunset Shimmer. Alone.
And, to make matters worse, I was stuck without the safety net of my phone and the list of conversation topics (organized by person and level of interest) it contained. The life-saving piece of technology was inside my backpack on the loading platform of the ride. Needless to say, I made a mental note to keep it on me at all times from then on.
I squirmed in my seat uncomfortably. The entire area was lit up only by the projections and cartoonish animatronics; next to us, there was a robotic cartoon horse, twitching as the music played just slightly out of sync. It quickly became apparent that the robot pony was meant to only be seen for only a few seconds.
Sunset, sitting on my left, wasn't interested in the carefully-designed robot and was instead typing on her phone.
Looking over her shoulder, I was able to see that she was texting Rarity. At least, I thought it was her. It was hard to read the words through my peripheral vision, and I didn't want to look like I was peeking.
"Apparently, the others got off the ride before it broke." Sunset announced, passing over her phone. I looked over the conversation bubbles, relieved that the others were safe. I was also correct about it being Rarity, by the way.
"Lucky them," I said.
"Powering down. Turning show lights off, and turning maintenance lights on."
Seconds after the non-recorded announcement, everything from the lights to the animatronics stopped working, leaving us in pitch darkness. Instinctively, I let out a surprised gasp at the sudden change, which elicited an entertained giggle from Sunset.
"Spooky," she teased. It was too dark to see, but I could have sworn she was smiling. Not a second later, the entire room lit up in a sterile white light. Sunset, curious about the change, looked over her side of the ride car. "Wow, we are really high up. I guess you can't tell with the lights off."
Ignoring statement, I peered over the side and immediately regretted my decision to do that as the rest of the dark ride was revealed. As it turned out, the entire ride was in a deep ravine, making it much higher up than the outer facade led me to believe. All the special effects like the lights and projectors were also left out bare.
Of course, there was also the one-hundred feet of twisting steel below us.
I gripped the lap bar.
"Oh hey, look. There are cameras over there," Sunset pointed out. "I guess Fluttershy wasn't exaggerating when she said that there were cameras everywhere that watched your every move."
"No kidding," I responded.
I slumped down in my seat, still thinking about the height.
"I read somewhere that if they catch people getting 'frisky' during a dark ride, the operators applaud them on the way out."
"You don't say," I said curtly.
There was a surprising lack of safety rails around the tracks.
"Oh, ponyfeathers," Sunset cursed, "Are you okay? You're shaking."
So I was. That was interesting. Luckily it was dim enough for her not to notice the layer of sweat.
"Are you sweating?" Sunset asked and immediately followed up with, "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to—I'm a bit freaked out too, Twilight, but I'm sure the guys who work here know how to handle this kind of situation."
"It's okay," I forced out weakly before adding an unconvincing, "I'm fine."
She dropped her hand on my shoulder, and I would be lying if I said I didn't appreciate it.
"It's okay, Twilight," she said softly. "Just close your eyes, and we could talk about literally anything else."
Taking her advice, I lowered my head and shut my eyes, welcoming the lack of horrifying stimuli. Strangely enough, it was working.
"So how 'bout them Clydesdales? Pretty eventful season for them so far." Sunset started, purposefully droning on about nothing. "I think they have a real good chance of winning the sportball this year." The pointless small talk was welcomed, even if I didn’t know a thing about sports. "It was pretty clear out today as well."
"Yeah, it was," I said, feeling a bit more comfortable. "It was supposed to be humid, I think."
I really had no idea what the weather was supposed to be. It just felt good to make something up.
"I noticed that too. Thankfully it isn't," she played along.
The conversation never seemed to escalate beyond nothing. In fact, I'm pretty sure it dwelled on utter nonsense. As it went on, I felt a little less intimidated by both the height and Sunset's presence.
Yet at the same time, I quickly realized that this meant that I was still hopelessly head over heels for her. She's the one, I kept thinking, and I refused to let the thought go.
Breaking my thoughts, a jingling set of keys caught my attention. A metallic tap followed. When I opened my eyes, a man, a middle-aged technician, was standing over the vehicle. He instructed me and Sunset to hold our hands up, which we did without question. And, without wasting time, he unlocked the lap bar as the full realization dawned on me.
We were being evacuated.
The mechanic helped Sunset out first and advised her to watch her step on the narrow walkway. There was a pit in my stomach now that I knew that I was next. Sure enough, he turned to me, but I couldn't force myself to get up. I sat there, tightly holding on to the safety bar as if that were the solution.
"Everything will be alright, miss," he said politely. "Due to technical difficulties, we're unable to determine an estimated reopening. For your convenience, we're evacuating guests now."
Still, I kept myself firmly planted in the seat. Every rational thought to listen was thrown out by primal fear and unsound instinct.
Sunset, being the amazing person she was, stepped back into the car and held her hand out. I hesitated for a moment and swallowed the uncooperative lump in my throat. Wincing, I took her hand and let her help me out.
With one hand on the rails and the other holding onto Sunset Shimmer for dear life, I followed the technician down the tiny metal path. For the entire walk, my mind floated between the two causes of my gut wrenching fear. the height, and the uncertainty of whether or not Sunset had noticed how clammy my hands were. She never made a comment, despite how tightly I was holding onto her, and I was too scared to even apologize.
Every once in a while, Sunset Shimmer would whisper a reassuring comment, noting the progress we had made.
I didn’t start breathing properly again until I saw the sun.
Outside, there was another park attendant waiting by the maintenance gate.
"We apologize for the inconvenience," she said formally, digging into a manila folder. "Please accept two complimentary front of the line tickets to the Iron Pegasus, our flagship attraction."
"Sweet," Sunset said before thanking the attendants. I, on the other hand, was still too stunned to speak and wanted absolutely nothing to do with those tickets. Instead, I wanted to curl up in a ball in the back of Rarity's car and just wait to go home.
When Sunset and I rounded the corner, we were swarmed by the rest of the girls, all asking questions about what happened in there. Luckily, Sunset answered them all, leaving out the part where I was a second away from crying or having a heart attack.
"We also got these front-of-the-line passes," Sunset remarked, holding out the slips of paper.
"No way!" Without hesitating, the rainbow haired girl snatched the tickets to get a closer look. "What ride do I have to break to get one of these?"
"You can have mine," I offered, hoping to get rid of it.
Immediately, my statement caught Sunset's full and utter opposition. "Come on, Twilight. It won't be the same unless it's me and you."
"I don't know," I protested. This would be the second time I had backed out, and it definitely would cement myself as a coward in everyone's (especially Sunset's) eyes. The whole Dark Ride Debacle didn't help, either.
"Please, do it for me?” she begged, leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "I'll hold your hand the entire way through if I have to, like I di—"
"Yes!" I answered impulsively, "I mean, on the condition that you don't tell them that."
Real smooth.
"That's my girl." She clasped her hand on my shoulder approvingly before leading the group away from the broken down ride. "How about we take a break and go grab a bite to eat?"
The rest of the girls agreed, and soon we were on our way to the nearest restaurant.
"Nice, Twilight," Rainbow Dash chided. "Can't really say anything since it worked, though."
I guess it can't be so bad, I thought as I followed the pack to an outdoor seating area.
•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•
Applejack and Sunset Shimmer were off in line, with the former still staring up at a giant menu posted above a blue building. Sitting to my right, Rainbow Dash was locked in an intense, yet trivial game of Slide with Pinkie Pie. The rainbow haired girl swore under her breath when she lost track of the number of claps or failed to keep up with the curly haired girl's inhuman speed.
Seeing this as an opportunity to call another social lifeline, I stood up and excused myself to the nearest bathroom.
I dug around my bag, frantically searching for my phone. Fumbling with the screen. I leaned against the tiled wall as Lemon Zest's name showed up on my contact list.
"Hey, Twilight," Lemon Zest answered. "What up, dude?"
"Hi, Le—"
"Are you in the bathroom?" she asked. "Gross. I can hear the echo y'know?"
"Sorry, it's the only place where I could be by myself."
"Where are you?"
"Funland. Specifically, a bathroom in Funland."
"And you didn't invite us?" scolded a voice in the distance, most likely Sour Sweet.
"I'm here with Sunset Shimmer," I explained.
"Atta girl," Lemon congratulated, "I didn't expect you to ask her so soon."
"I didn't," I clarified. "I'm here with a group"
"Oh." The phone did nothing to mask their disappointment, and I couldn't tell whether it was from not inviting her or that I hadn't explicitly asked Sunset out on a date yet. "By the way, the rest of the girls are here in my dorm. You're on speaker—say hi!"
"Hey, Twilight!"
"Hello," I greeted, suddenly feeling a sense of performance anxiety. "I, uh, need help on flirting, specifically with letting her know that I like her."
"Okay!" Her voice was full of determination before she paused. "Here's what you do: You get yourself with Sunset on a ride that launches."
"Uh-huh."
"You sit in the front, and right before it blasts you at, like, a thousand miles per hour or something, you whisper in her ear 'I love you' and gauge her reaction at the photo booth after the ride. If she's blushing in the picture, you're good to go. If not, claim you were saying your last goodbyes to your mom or something."
"That's a terrible idea," came another voice, just as loud as Lemon Zest's. There was a slight argument and scuffling that I attributed to Sugarcoat swiping Lemon Zest s phone. "All that's gonna do is make Twilight look like a creep." Yeah, that was definitely Sugarcoat.
"Here's what you actually do," Sugarcoat continued. "You tell her that you like her and ask her on the damn date!"
There was another argument, another shuffle, and most likely another change of hands.
"If it were that easy, she would have done it by now," Indigo Zap cut in. "Hey, Twilight, sweetie, you know that cliche thing in the movies when the guy wins a big ol' stuffed bear for the girl? Do exactly that, but on your first try. It's a cliche because it works."
"Aww, that would be just adorable and perfect!" Sour Sweet cheered. "If this were a cartoon! Everyone knows those things are rigged."
It was at that point where I could feel all the comments, insults, and possibly fists as they were thrown in all directions.
"We can't mess this up!" one of them cried. "It's her first love!"
After the whole commotion, Sunny Flare was the last to end up with the phone. "Don't listen to them, Twilight. They have no idea what they're doing. You listening?"
I nodded and expected a response, which quickly turned into a sheepish, "Yes." Luckily no one was around to see that.
"It's simple. Just try asking her out under the late night firework show. There's music, pretty colors, explosions. All those kinds of romantic things. It's foolproof."
There was another behind-the-scenes argument, though this time they were mindful enough to not yell over each other. While they fought, I thought about the idea. It didn't take long for me to hang on the image of Sunset and I watching the lights fly across the night sky.
I didn't notice I was smiling until I caught my reflection in a metal paper towel container.
"That sounds nice," I admitted, "though I'm not sure if I have the guts to ask."
"Twilight," Sunny Flare scolded. "You can't just expect her to be the one to make the first move."
That was exactly what I was trying to do.
"I knooww," I whined, cringing at the thought of rejection again.
"Listen, we have to go. Just tell us how it goes after you've done the deed. ‘Kay?"
"Okay," I said back stiffly, hanging up the phone.
•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•
Somehow, I managed to convince Sunset to put off riding the Iron Pegasus. It wasn't easy, but once I brought up how cool flying over the night sky and the park lights would look, it was a cinch. Naturally, Rainbow Dash protested, arguing that the park would close before they could get on.
It was easy to strike a compromise. All it took was to suggest that they'd get in line earlier, and Sunset and I would jump on when they got near the front.
According to the lit-up sign in front of the Iron Pegasus's queue, I bought myself an hour and a half. An hour and a half alone with Sunset.
We spent a majority of the time in an arcade, where I found myself playing skeeball. The game was simple; all it took was a simple understanding of momentum and the transfer from potential to kinetic energy. After a few rounds of cautious rolling, I was able to figure out the perfect force to apply, which led to me hitting the small target in the corner consistently.
Sunset was off to the side, slapping an uncooperative claw machine.
After a few more tries, she eventually gave up and made her way over to me.
"Nice," she commented as the tickets began to flow out the machine. "Never knew you were good at skeeball."
"I wasn't," I answered honestly. "This is my first time."
"A skeeball savant," she said under her breath. "I wonder how well you would do in Las Pegasus."
"Very well, actually," I stated matter of factly. "Counting cards, while frowned upon, is perfectly legal. It's also ridiculously easy." I grabbed the tickets and neatly folded them over before placing the stack inside the small pocket of my backpack. When I looked back up, Sunset was staring at me with a confused expression. "When I was little, my father let me sit on his lap while he played cards with his friends. I'd pinch his knee every time there was a good count."
"I never thought you'd be the type to cheat." Sunset teased.
"It was just a fun little observational math game," I explained. "When it paid out, my dad took me out for ice cream."
Sunset laughed, which honestly caught me off guard a little. "That explains a lot, actually."
"Theoretically, I could do the same with most of these games. They all seem to rely on basic principles of physics."
Slyly, she dug in her pockets and brought out her wallet. "Care to put money where your mouth is?"
"Go on," I insisted.
"If you can find a way to win in most of these rigged games, I'll buy you ice cream."
"How Freudian of you," I commented. Outside, I had a cold, cocky attitude, but inside I was jumping from wall to wall. This was my chance to impress Sunset Shimmer, and I had to make it count.
She pointed over to a carnival booth, where an excessive amount of stuffed animals hung from the walls. Without saying anything, she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me over to the stand. A good five feet away, three plastic milk bottles stood on a platform, stacked on top of one another. Immediately, my mind began to fill up with how to take down the game, accounting for the underhanded techniques most midway games employed.
"Easy enough, right?" Sunset teased, jabbing me in the shoulder. She planted a pair of ones onto the counter and got a brownish softball in return. "I'm sure it won't take much more than one try." Smirking, she handed off the softball, and the weight immediately was a red flag. It had been corked and was now well below the regulated minimum of 178 grams.
Judging from the ball, it wouldn't be much of a stretch to assume that at least one of the milk bottles was weighed down. The optimal place to aim for would be the bottom center.
It was just a question of velocity, which was easy enough to calculate in my head.
I tossed the ball in the air, getting another general feel before palming it completely. Concentrating, I emulated the stance of a baseball pitcher and threw it with what I calculated as the appropriate amount of force.
It took less than a half second to realize that I had undershot and hit the platform. Consequently, the ball ricocheted and hit Sunset square in the gut. I dove to her side and quickly began wailing several frantic apologies, which Sunset replied with hoarse statements of forgiveness.
"I'm fine," she said for the eighth time. "Sweet Celestia, that hurts."
"Sorry," I said for the fourteenth time. "I'm so sorry." Fifteenth.
"Let's just move on to the next one."
Apparently, Sunset trusted me enough to let me handle a sledgehammer.
The Hi-Striker relied on the same concepts of force as the last game, but now leverage and angle had to be taken into account. I would have to hit the target in the center without angling the hammer. If done well, the bell at the top would ring, cementing my status as a "Macho Man."
I was given three attempts. The rules on the board stated two, but since I was, and I quote, "a pretty lady," I was allowed an extra swing to claim my machismo. Yet I knew I would only need one.
I held onto the mallet by the rubber grip. One hand was on the bottom, the other lined up to where the handle ended. That was the optimal way to hold it for maximum force coming down.
Proper handling of the mallet. Check. Feet shoulder width apart. Check. Sunset Shimmer standing a safe ten feet away. Check.
I put all my force into swinging the hammer upwards and let the momentum do the rest, carefully making sure that the mallet was aimed for the center of the metal target. There was a weighty thud, and I immediately looked upwards and watched the light race upwards until it made a solid ring once it hit the top.
"Nice!" Sunset cheered, going after a stuffed bear. I decided to let her have the prize all to herself to make up for the incident with the milk bottles.
As it turns out, my theory about most carnival games and their relation to the laws of physics was accurate. Game after game, I was able to walk away with a prize worth much less than the actual cost of playing. And after each game, Sunset would give each prize away to a nearby child, and they would bounce away, happily cradling the plush toys. Yet after making a lap through the boardwalk, I noticed that she still kept the first bear I won.
"I guess I owe you some ice cream," Sunset conceded, gesturing towards an ice cream vendor.
Nodding, I followed her lead and waited on a nearby bench. I sung my legs idly, waiting until she came back with two waffle cones in her hand.
“You didn’t tell me what you liked, so I got two of my favorite,” she said cheekily. Smiling, she passed over a cone of strawberry cheesecake ice cream, and I almost chuckled at how much the dessert resembled her hair.
Of course, all good things come to a grinding halt at some point or another. About a minute or two after we finished our cones, Sunset received a text stating that our group was getting near the front of the Iron Pegasus. I swallowed a lump in my throat and began to follow Sunset toward the largest roller coaster the park offered.
It was then where I remembered the supply of chocolate in my backpack. Luckily, none of the pieces were melted beyond recognition, kept in decent quality by the plastic bag. I offered some to Sunset, who accepted it unquestioningly. To avoid any suspicion, I sampled some of the chocolate as well. As we walked, we ate (rather unhealthily) from the bag.
Following the signs, we entered through the exit and stopped just short of a ride attendant, who then asked for the passes.
The cacao did nothing to ease the stress of the ride. In fact, it might have made things worse.
I found myself sitting next to Sunset with the rest of the girls climbing in behind me. Up above, there was a safety poster advising us to keep our heads against the headrest. Whether it was there for legal precautionary reasons or due to past events I couldn't tell, but it didn't sit well in my stomach.
A replica streetlight hung next to the safety sign, and within a second, I knew what it was there for. Whoever thought to have a literal countdown must have been a sadist. I found myself gripping the lap bar, digging my nails into the slight cushion it provided.
"You doing okay, Twilight?" Sunset asked, turning her head towards me (which was unsafe, according to the sign).
"I should be asking you that," I countered, forcing a chuckle. Sunset smiled at the remark, which helped put me at ease but only slightly.
"Atta girl," called Rainbow Dash, who sat right behind me. She leaned forward to be a part of the conversation (also unsafe). "At least you didn't have to wait two hours for this."
"I thought it said one and a half."
"They lie," Rainbow spat before lying back next to her ride partner, Applejack.
This was what my life had come to. Seventeen years, and I was strapped into a deathtrap about to be launched into the stratosphere just to impress a girl who may or may not say yes to a date.
I felt my heart stop once the prop street light actually lit up.
Red.
You know, it's not too late to scream to get off.
Yellow.
Maybe Sunset Shimmer isn't worth it.
Another yellow.
That's not how streetlights work.
Gre—
•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•
I found myself staring into a garbage can, tossing up whatever ice cream and chocolate I had eaten before the ride. Someone was patting my back gently, humming soft words of comfort. I bent over a decorative garden when I noticed it was Sunset who was humming.
"Someone go get her water," I heard Applejack say. "You'll be fine, sugarcube. Just go ahead and chuck."
I forced myself to stand up before announcing, "I really hate heights."
"At least you didn't do it on the ride," Rainbow Dash joked, shuddering at the idea.
"I did," I gasped between breathy heaves. Sunset's prized leather jacket was an unfortunate casualty.
Fluttershy handed over a half-empty water bottle, which I took while expressing my thanks through a grating whine. Greedily, I downed the water, hoping that it would dilute the taste of bile in my mouth. It did for the most part, but the taste was still present after repeated rinsing.
"Here, get the taste out of your mouth" Sunset spoke up, passing over the bag of chocolates I kept in my backpack. Instinctively, I pushed the sack away, wanting nothing to do with it. "Sorry."
"It's fine."
"How about we call it a night?" Rarity offered. "I don't think it would be good for Twilight to hang out so long after that."
"I'm fine," I protested. "Don't worry about me."
"I'm really sorry, Twilight," Sunset apologized, crossing her arms. "It's my fault for forcing you on in the first place."
"It's fine," I repeated. Slouching, I turned to Rarity, "Actually, do you mind if I just lie in your car for a bit?"
"Do whatever you need to, dear." Rarity answered, "Though, I wouldn't feel right if it was just you on your own."
"It's fine," I needed to stop saying that. "There's no need to—"
"I'll go with you, Twilight." Sunset offered. "It's my fault, anyway. Plus I could wash off my jacket on the way."
"But we'll miss the firewo—"
Before I could continue, Sunset grabbed me by the arm and we were off to the parking lot.
Just before I stepped into Rarity's car, Sunset nudged my side.
"You okay, Twilight?" Sunset asked. "For real this time."
"Yes," I said stubbornly. It only took a skeptical raised eyebrow to get me to crumble. "No, I'm not. I just want to go home."
"That's what I figured." Sunset then turned to face the red truck to our side, where Sunset's bike was tied to. "It's about a half-hour ride back to Canterlot with no traffic. I can take you home if you'd like."
"Yes, please," I whimpered.
I helped Sunset pull off the bungee cords, opened the bed of the truck, and slowly helped her roll the bike downward. Its tires hit the ground with a soft bounce, and Sunset jumped on, motioning for me to do the same. Thankful to be going home after the disastrous night, I forced the helmet on and held onto her, hoping I’d never have to let go.
I buried my face against her back, keeping my eyes shut for the majority of the ride back. After nearly crying on the Iron Pegasus, Sunset's bike wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was... even if we were speeding down the highway.
We got to my house at around eight-thirty. Funland didn't close until around eleven, so we saved ourselves about three hours of sitting and doing nothing. The ride up the hill to my house wasn't as bad as past experiences either, so at least that came out of it.
I was still hugging Sunset when we came to a full stop. We sat on the bike for just a while longer. I didn't want her to leave again, but I was still too scared to invite her inside.
"Thank you," I said, my voice muffled by her leather jacket. "Thank you for sticking with me through everything... the broken ride, hitting you in the gut with a softball, throwing up on your favorite jacket."
"No problem," she answered back coolly. "I wouldn't change a thing... except maybe the last one."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'll get it dry-cleaned later. Plus, I got most of it off anyway."
"Just... Thank you for putting up with me," I said, feeling my chest swell. "You're just... awesome. Sunset, I think I—"
I hung on the last word, and I could feel the heat on my cheeks. There was a brief silence in the air before Sunset spoke up.
"Is there, uh, something you want to tell me?"
Now was my chance. It was now or never, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. My chest was pounding harder than any roller coaster could have done to it. I was stuttering, panicking, tripping over my tongue, unable to say a word. I just wanted to get out of there immediately.
Now, I will be the first to admit that I am not smart. In fact, I'm a certified idiot. Why?
Because my first instinct was to grab the motorcycle's acceleration handle, sending the both of us tumbling down the hill.
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Twilight....
Chapter was hilarious. Great job on this one, and the story.
Goddammit, Twilight.
"You sit in the front, and right before it blasts you at, like, a thousand miles per hour or something, you whisper in her ear 'I love you' and gauge her reaction at the photo booth after the ride. If she's blushing in the picture, you're good to go. If not, claim you were saying your last goodbyes to your mom or something."
Better advice I've never heard.
Also after the last sentence I'm starting to think Twilight feeling for sunset shimmer are becoming unhealthy and not in a creepy way more like in a I hope you have REEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLYYYYYY good health insurance kinda way.
......................Nnnnnnnooooooooooooooooo
I'm almost to scared to read what happens next. LOL.
Sending her bike down the hill? Huh. And here I was, expecting the kiss-her-because-you-can't-think-of-what-to-do-next bit.
Very nice work with the research: I like how Twilight makes exactly the right set of mistakes regarding all of the games.
I'm glad Twilight at least missed in that ball throwing game. I'm always bothered by the "calculation makes this game simple" trope (I particularly remember an incident in Star Trek where a Vulcan stepped up to a game of billiards and was instantly a pro because math). I mean, sure, it works for certain card games. But throwing a ball or anything of the like is more than just knowing the appropriate force vectors: The key is being able to produce those force vectors, which requires a level of fitness and practice to do with any consistency. Anybody who's topped 100 in bowling knows that proper angle to get a strike... but even in pro leagues, a perfect game is rare, because physical discipline is difficult.
Looks like your plan is coming along nicely twilight.
Ngl, that idea sounds a bit ridiculous. 😑
That plan might just work if all goes planned. 😏
That's got to hurt.
Nice
How nice of her giving them to children.
That's now making my mouth water. 🤤
That didn't go well.
Looks like it was a good thing it was there.
Uh oh! 😰
You could have a steam train
If you'd just lay down your tracks
distracted
Same.
twilight, really -