• Published 18th May 2017
  • 22,176 Views, 897 Comments

You're Getting Better - 2Merr

Friendship is a give-and-take relationship. Fortunately for you, Pinkie doesn't ask for much, and she has plenty to give. Maybe it's time to start giving back.

  • ...

Omelette Du Fromage

You are wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets on your bed. You aren't cold, you just can't be bothered to untangle yourself. It's how you woke up, and how you've remained for the last handful of hours. It's still dark outside, too dark to see the time on the clock. You went to bed immediately after getting home from Town Hall yesterday, skipping your shower and the usual heart-to-heart with Dr. Corner. You were so mentally fatigued from the day's events that you just collapsed into bed and passed out. It's safe to say your sleep schedule is more fucked up than ever before.

You've managed to avoid moving so far, but your body regretfully informs you that you are still alive. Your throat is dry, your stomach is empty, and your bladder is full. With a herculean effort, you wiggle your feet to kick at your fabric prison, but it's no use. You are forced to use your most powerful and forbidden trump card—your hands.

The battle takes many long minutes, but you eventually emerge victorious. You stand over the mangled remains of your opponent, taking a moment to catch your breath before stumbling to the bathroom. Finishing your business, you turn to face off against your second greatest adversary: the mirror. Maybe today is your day. Eye-to-eye with yourself, you let your lack of emotion melt away. There is nothing else. Only you.

One painful eternity later, your focus is broken by a sound from the front of your house. You blink. Shit, you lost again. That makes it fifty-eight to two.

"Well played," you sigh. Your reflection doesn't even look happy he won. Arrogant piece of shit.

Another noise snaps you back to reality. The first one was easy to ignore, creaky house and all that, but this new sound is not normal. It might be burglars. You creep out of the bathroom and over to your bedroom door. It almost sounds like... singing? Very quiet singing. You can't make out any words, but it's definitely a song—maybe someone is humming. Fucking ponies can't even commit a crime without making it gay.

You tiptoe backwards to your bed, glancing at the clock out of habit. To your surprise, you can actually see the time. The sun's rays have finally started to peek over the horizon, just enough to let you know that it's too damn early. But why would a burglar break into a house at six in the morning? Does magical horse land even have burglars?

You shake the intrusive logic away. Right now, you have a real intruder to deal with. You drop to the floor and start groping under the bed for your bat. Your stomach drops.

It's not there.

Panicking, you turn to your closet before freezing in place. The closet isn't there either.

You remember you don't have a closet. Or a bat.

"What are we looking for?" a happy voice inquires from on top of your head.

"Something to defend myself with," you whisper. "And keep quiet, I need the element of surprise."

"Okay," Pinkie whispers back, "but I don't think there's an Element of Surprise. Twilight is the Element of Magic, though, and that's kinda like surprise. Do you want me to go get her?"

Wait a minute.

You reach up and pluck the pink pony from her perch. Holding her at arms length, you turn her around to face you. She's grinning innocently, as always. You darken your glare. She responds by tilting her head to the side and blinking rapidly. You swear you can almost see a halo. Sighing, you tuck Pinkie under your arm and walk into the living room. Pinkie stretches her legs out to the side and makes airplane sounds as you walk.

You drop your cargo off on the couch and start prepping the coffee pot.

"Pinkie, what are you doing here so early?" You don't even have the energy to be mad. The adrenaline from earlier is gone, leaving you in your default state of emptiness, despair, and a bit of self-loathing.

"I told you yesterday I would make omelets for breakfast!" She's way too chipper at this ungodly hour.

"Yeah, I remember that. But why so early?"

She laughs with a cute little snort at the end. "Silly Nonny, it's not early; everypony wakes up when the sun rises! Except the Apples, but they're weird. Don't tell AJ I said that."

"Maybe this is normal for ponies, but I'm not a pony. Humans aren't meant to be awake at this hour," you grumble under your breath.

"Hmmmm." Pinkie is staring at you intently, rubbing her chin with a hoof. You don't know where she found it, but she's wearing a detective's hat.




"You were awake before I got here."

How the hell did she know that.

"In fact, you were awake waaaay before that. You've been up since three o'clock, but you only got out of bed half an hour ago."

"...Pinkie, you're scaring me."

"Fear is the second best medicine, right behind laughter!" She starts laughing maniacally to demonstrate.

You really need a different friend.

You sip your precious nectar and watch Pinkie make omelets while dressed in a chef's hat and apron. Without a stove. You've become strangely jaded to her black magic. Or maybe you aren't fully awake yet.

"Here you go!" The plate clatters on the table and Pinkie rushes back to her station to make another one for herself. The omelet is large. It's not very wide, only about the size of your hands cupped together, but there has to be a full three inches of egg and cheese stacked on your plate. Cheesus Christ. You know you promised to eat more, but this...

You cut out a neat little triangle with your fork and bring it to your nose. It smells fine, so you start eating. To your mild surprise, you don't taste any sugar or cocaine or whatever it is Pinkie eats. It tastes like a normal omelet. A normal, delicious omelet.

"O sweet pony gods, thank you for this wonderful gift."

You start shoveling as much food as you can into your mouth, pausing only to breathe. You briefly register Pinkie sitting next to you with her own plate. When your fork meets the plate and finds nothing else to stab, you finally sit back and take a long drink from your mug. That was easily the best meal you've had since coming to this insane world.

"How was it?"

You can't manage anything more than a small smile and a contented grunt. Pinkie takes that as an answer and whisks both plates away with a flourish.

"Perfect! Then it's time to get ready to leave," she says over her shoulder.

"Leave? For what?" you ask once you regain your voice.

"We're going shopping today, remember?"

Oh yeah. That.

You stand up and stretch, your spine popping a few times. "M'kay," you mumble. "I'm ready."

Pinkie runs a critical eye over your disheveled appearance. You fell asleep in your clothes last night, so they're already on your body, only slightly more wrinkled than normal. Even your shoes look wrinkly.

"How about we stop by Rarity's first? She can take your measurements and make you some more clothes later." Pinkie nods decisively without waiting for you to answer.

You start to ask why anything would be open this early, but you give up with a sigh and follow the pink tail bouncing out the door.

Fucking ponies, man.

Author's Note:

You guys remember when I said there would be longer chapters? Yeah, me too. Good times. :eeyup:

Comedy tag uhfishally added.