A collection of stories from Laugh Track, a pony who always ends up in the wackiest scenarios...
Far away from all the craziness that is ponyville, one pony stands against the ever-present threat of shenanigans as he tries to live his life. Meet Laugh Track, an average pony who somehow manages to turn the most mundane things into an adventure. These are some disconnected stories from his life, each one more of a oneshot than anything else.
He feels like his life is a sitcom, so the main rule? When all else fails, LAUGH.
Midnight. The moon hung in the sky over Ursa Major University, situated a few miles from Fillydelphia. The crisp autumn air blew leaves around the dorm buildings, and for the most part, students were turning in for the night. One by one, the lights in the windows of each dorm house went out as sleepy ponies drifted off into sleep. Only a few carriages roamed the roads this late in the small college town, and had any bothered to look, one window was still illuminated by candlelight. One pony was still burning the midnight oil, the glow of his luminous crystal keeping his room aglow as he finished his paper.
“Finally. That took way longer than I expected, but my report's done!” He shouted. Quickly, he covered his mouth as realized how late it was, and uttered a silent prayer to Celestia that he didn't wake anypony. Hearing no commotion, he breathed a sigh of relief, shuffling his report away into his backpack. “I suppose it's not that late,” he mused. “I have time for a shower.” Grabbing his crystal lantern, he afforded himself a glance in his mirror.
The view that greeted him was that of a young unicorn stallion, somewhere between ‘adorable’ and ‘dashingly handsome’ if his mother had anything to say about it. And while he always thought his colors were obnoxious, most ponies seemed to not care too much.
Still, who would want to be stuck with bright, almost fluorescent cyan fur and a mane that could only be called neon orange? Yes, the colors complimented each other, but compared to the more muted tones of his classmates, family, and… pretty much anypony on the street, he was easy to spot. Still, Laugh Track was a young stallion on a mission, and that mission was getting in the shower, cleaning up, contemplating the meaning of life, and then going to bed! He had class in the morning, damn it!
So, grabbing his shower caddy in his magic, Laugh trotted out of his room, locked the door behind him, and entered the dorm house bathroom. It was nice, living in a refurbished house instead of one of the massive dormitories. Quieter. A quick flick of the lightswitch rune and the luminous crystals lit up the bathroom in a bright glow.
Laugh smiled as he felt the water cascade over him, quickly cleaning himself up without issue. Showers were always a place to unwind, the water washing his worries and stress away. So it was with a heavy heart that he reached out and turned the shower handle to the ‘off’ position.
And the water kept running.
“Uh. That. That is not supposed to happen,” Laugh noted to nopony in particular, gripping the knob again in his magic. “Must be stuck, or jammed, or something.” He twisted the handle back to his preferred temperature, and then back to off. Nothing. He stared up at the shower head, groaning. “Great, it's gonna be one of those nights. And my environmental science professor will never let me hear the end of it if I don't conserve water… but facilities isn't open this late!”
The stallion huffed in annoyance and leaned his head against the shower wall. Suddenly though, his ears perked up and he seemed to have an idea. “You know, I do have a screwdriver kit in my room… but I can't let my mane get wet and fall in my eyes while I'm fixing this. Where'd I put my swim cap?”
He cantered out of the bathroom, only to return moments later with his swimming cap, a pair of goggles, a flashlight powered by a smaller crystal, and a set of ten assorted screwdrivers he had brought to college at the insistence of his family.
“Alright, time to go from mild-mannered neuroscientist Laugh Track to my new and improved form… Laugh Track, amateur plumber! This shouldn't take long at all!”
After setting his flashlight down on the sink, he stuck his head back under the still-running water and examined the handle. “Now where's the stupid screw on this thing… aha! Here it is, under the handle. Now is that the kinda screw that uses the flat screwdriver, or the one that looks like an x?” He craned his neck out to look under the handle at the screw, in a very awkward position. He was putting all his weight on one hoof and he had to stay completely focused or-
“Laugh, what in Tartarus are you doing?”
Thud. ...or he would fall flat on his face as his housemate from a few rooms down walked in. Granted, his question was completely justified, as anypony would question a vibrantly colored pony standing halfway in the shower with the curtain wide open, while appearing to do some odd yoga move to stare at the handle controlling the water, all while dressed for a swim meet.
Laugh picked himself off the floor. “Rgh, Inertia! You startled me! What are you even doing in here?”
“Uh… using the bathroom?”
“Oh. Carry on, then.”
The earth pony replied with a skeptical look. “Not until you tell me what you're up to.”
“Long story short, the shower won't turn off. Wanna help me fix it? I need somepony to hold the flashlight so I can get a better look at this,” Laugh explained, gesturing to the aforementioned device on the sink.
“Sure thing.”
Inertia grabbed the light in his mouth and held it up so that it was shining on the screw. Laugh Track levitated a screwdriver up in his magic, making sure it lined up with the screw correctly, amd began turning. “Geez, this screw is in there! It isn't even turning. Come on, you son of a-”
CRACK
Inertia looked at Laugh cautiously. “Uh, what was that?”
“Um. You aren't gonna believe this… the screwdriver broke.”
“What.”
“Half of the little part that goes into the screw snapped off! It wasn't my fault! What a piece of junk,” Laugh snorted, tossing it aside. “I'll just use another one… there! It's off.” He gingerly levitated the handle and screw to the floor, then turned his attention to the inner mechanism. There was a fairly obvious screw in it. “Alright, this looks important.”
“So what's the plan?”
“Disassemble shit until something happens. Now, let me just put the screwdriver in here, and turn it… man, it must be rusted in, it's not cooperating and-”
CRACK
“Again, Laugh? Seriously?”
Laugh tossed the second broken screwdriver angrily to the ground. “Fine, let's just mess with this for now. It looks like I can turn it with my magic to control… the… uh…”
“What now?”
Laugh Track turned and looked at Inertia, worried. “The water's increased in temperature… it's as hot as I can get now. Is that progress?”
“No.”
“Shit, I thought so. And I can't stay under a boiling hot stream of water for long,” he lamented, gazing at the still-running shower. “..you know, I might have something to help. I'll be right back!”
“I wonder what he has planned this time, an umbrella? Nah, he's not that crazy,” Inertia mused as Laugh left the room. Then about a minute later, he wished that was the stallion's plan.
“I'm back!”
Inertia facehooved. “Why are you wearing your winter coat, Laugh?”
“If it keeps body heat in, it should be able to keep the hot water heat out. Now, can we please get fixing?” He stepped back into the shower, and began slowly turning the mechanism. “Yeah, it definitely looks like this controls the water flow. If I can set it just right, i can reduce it to negligible levels and we can just call for maintenance in the morning. Just let me-”
“What the everliving buck are you too doing?!”
Inertia looked over to see his roomate, Galaxy, enter the bathroom. He could only imagine what the pegasus was thinking, walking in on… this. Two ponies, one holding a flashlight, while the other stood in a wide open, running shower in full swim gear and a winter coat. Two broken screwdrivers on the floor, the shower handle missing… and all at one in the morning.
Laugh track poked his head out of the shower, fed up with the interruptions. “What the buck does it look like we're doing?! We're clearly filming a porno. Get over here, we need a third actor.” He paused to let that sink in, then continued. “The shower's bucking broken, numbnuts! Are you gonna help or not?”
”Buck this, I'm going back to bed.”
“Yeah, me too,” Inertia added. “Have fun fixing the shower, Laugh.”
“Wait, where are you going?! Come back! What am I supposed to do, hit it until it stops?!” He threw his hooves up in exasperation, giving the inner mechanism of the shower a solid whack. Surprisingly enough, the water stopped. “Oh. Well, I guess that settles that. I'll handle getting maintenance out here in the morning. Goodnight, guys!”
After waving the pair off and gathering up his things, Laugh took one last look at the shower stall. “That was easy. Looks like I can do anything I set my mind to after all!”
With that said, he slammed the bathroom door shut and went back to bed. A pity he didn't double check, as the slamming door shook the room and turned the shower back on...
Ah, Neightona Beach. Truly a vacation hotspot for any creature looking to catch some fun in the sun. With the summer sun beating down on the beach as waves lapped at the shore, hundreds of vacationers were enjoying time away from responsibility. This was not the case for one mare, though.
Punchline, despite her top-class marketing job giving her ample vacation to come down and spend time with her husband and her in-laws who she genuinely liked, she had a second job to attend to: the seven year old colt running around her dark pink legs. Her only colt was always full of energy, so finding new activities to keep him occupied every year they came down was a challenge.
She brushed a stray lock of her curly purple mane out of her vision and addressed the colt. “Laugh Track! Settle down, please. I know you're excited to go fishing, but save some energy for the fish!”
“Come on, mom, hurry up! I wanna get a good spot!”
Punchline giggled to herself. For a unicorn, he certainly was excited to take part in a primarily pegasus and griffin-oriented activity. Consuming fish was important to keeping wings healthy, as Punchline knew all too well. It always perplexed her how her pegasus body and her earth pony husband created a unicorn, but stranger things had happened. Speaking of her husband, he chose to stay home because fish creeped him out. She dismissed those thoughts and galloped after her colt, who was already in the gift shop/rod rental store, eyeing a novelty hat that just screamed tourist trap.
“Laugh, wait up! I'm the one who has to pay for you!”
“I'm bored.”
Laugh slumped down on the bench, watching the fishing line not move an inch in any direction, the seawater twenty feet below proving to be more interesting. He had hooked the pier a few times, but not caught anything. “At this rate, we won't get anything done today!”
“Pradon us, coming through.”
Laugh and Punchline turned and looked, then stepped aside as a trio of burly minotaurs and a griffon strode past them. Each had at least three fishing rods, a massive box brimming with bait and lures, and spools of strong fishing line. To say they were hobbyists would be an understatement, they were professionals.
“Whoa. Why couldn't we rent stuff like that, mom? Why'd we get stuck with this rod that won't catch anything?” Laugh asked, watching the group set up at the end of the pier.
“Because those cost thousands of bits, sweetie. More than I'm comfortable spending for a day long trip. Besides, this rod works! We'll catch something, I promise!” As if on cue, the rod dipped, a bite on the end of the line.
“Hang on, I GOT IT!” Laugh Track sprung into action, lunging forward and holding the pole with his forelegs while spinning the crank with his magic, reeling in his prize. After an agonizing minute, it finally broke the surface of the water: a crab, holding onto the hook with the bait still attached. “Look mom! I got a crab! Look!”
The crab, still holding onto the line with its pincer, reached over with its claw and took the bait off the hook. “Wait, what are you doing, crab? Don't you dare-” and the crab let go, falling back into the ocean below. “NO! COME BACK! Aw…” Laugh flopped down on the pier, defeated. “Why can't I catch anything like those guys at the end of the pier? They look… what are they even doing?”
Another stallion overheard the colt and glanced his way. “From what I heard, they've hooked a shark.”
“REALLY?! Mom, can I go see?”
Punchline sighed. “I suppose we can leave our things for a moment. Go on, I'll catch up once I get my saddlebags.”
Without even responding, Laugh galloped off towards the end of the pier, hoping to see a real shark for once. He was so excited!
The griffon fisherman was fighting on the line with all his might. He had definitely hooked a big shark, and it wasn't coming up easily. “Come on, come on! I'll eat like a king tonight if I can pull this off!” He didn't notice the small colt galloping up behind him.
Laugh skidded to a stop a short distance away. “Hey mister, what kinda shark is it?!”
“Get up here… you WHINNYSSIPPI BITCH!!” With one final heave, the griffon hoisted the shark over the railing and slammed it down onto the pier. The shark writhed and thrashed about on the wooden planks, desperate to breathe, gnashing its teeth at anything in range. Several other fillies and colts rushed up as the griffon caught his breath and his minotaur friends congratulated him.
“What kinda shark is it, sir?” “Hey, that's a cool shark, what's it called?” “What's that?!” Inquiries spewed forth from the group of foals, and Laugh turned around, a smile on his face, ready to answer. With his youthful, seven year old voice, he proclaimed:
“It's a Whinnyssippi Bitch!”
The expert fishermen nearly fell off the pier laughing.
Laugh stretched his legs as he walked amongst the halls of his alma mater. The annual garage sale that his former high school held for charity every year was all hooves on deck for volunteers, requiring him to join forces with dozens of alumni to help sort through the donations, organize, price, and sell them. For his case, Laugh was working in the section devoted to magical lighting. He was using a specialized stand loaned from his friend to help test and repair any donated lights.
“Ugh, checking each and every one of these is getting annoying, Fixture.”
Light Fixture, master repairpony of all things luminous, shrugged. “It can't be helped, Laugh. We've done this every year for the sale for the past eight years, and I don't plan on stopping. We gotta support our old stomping grounds, right?” He held out his hoof, and they hoofbumped, reciting their old school cheer.
“Goooo, Falcons! Rah rah rah!”
“I hate to interrupt your moment, but are you two working this section of the sale?” The pair of unicorn stallions turned to face a third, older stallion of the unicorn tribe. He was glancing over the lights that were on display. “I was wondering how much that costs,” he explained, gesturing with a hoof to the merchandise.
Laugh nodded, nudging his friend out of the way. “Go polish the lamp over there Light, I got this one.” Light Fixture obliged, but kept an ear turned toward the conversation. “Well sir, that light there is, if you hadn't guessed, a desk lamp. It's priced at ten bits, and-”
“No, no! Not that thing, that thing!” The customer pointed again. “That's what I wanna buy! How much is it?”
Laugh took a half step back in surprise. “The… the testing rig? We brought that in to fix any damaged lights. You can't take that.”
“Well, why not? This is a sale, right?”
Laugh nodded. “Yeah, this is a sale, but I don't see what that has to do with-”
“And this stand is AT the sale, yeah?”
“Yes, but-”
“So since it's at the sale, that means it's for sale! So how much is it?”
Laugh fought back his ‘are you bucking kidding me right now’ face and smiled, trying a different tactic. “Well, we are currently using it to fix this light, so why don't you come back in a few minutes so we can talk?”
The stallion huffed in annoyance, but resigned himself to Laugh's words. “Fine. I'll go to the bathroom and come back. Have it ready by then!” He trotted off, leaving a bewildered and annoyed Light Fixture trotting up to Light.
“Are you nuts?!” He whispered angrily. “You bought us five minutes, tops. How are you gonna turn him away with no prep time?”
Laugh track smirked, a devious grin spreading across his face. He levitated some tape and a marker into view. “Oh, I'm not gonna do it. You are.”
“I'm back! Are you done fooling around with that light, or are you just playing with it like those colts in the toy section?”
Laugh track cantered up to the stallion with a ‘customer service’ face. That is to say, a big, forced grin. “Ah, welcome back! I hope the bathroom wasn't crowded, I might need to use it later. Anyway, the maintenance rig is right here, but I'm not authorized to sell it. The ‘boss’ of this section is right here!” Laugh all but shoved Light Fixture in front of the customer. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to eat some of this conveniently placed popcorn.” Laugh placed a folded piece of paper in front of him as a makeshift sign. It read, ‘Regulated Union Break. Be Back In ∞’.
The stallion rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Light Fixture. “Right… so, I was hoping to purchase that stand,” he pointed once more to the maintenance stand.
“Ah, that,” Light replied, “is not for sale, my good sir. If you look closely, you can see that it's marked-” Rather prominently displayed on the stand was a piece of tape with ‘NFS’ written on it. “N. F. S. Not for sale.”
The stallion growled in frustration. “But this place is a sale! And I want to buy a thing at the sale, so you should sell it!”
“Oh my Celestia. Look,” Light was getting fed up with this guy. “You can't buy the lockers in the hallway. You can't buy the ponies working here, or the tables we put the merchandise on, or the water fountains. There is stuff at sales that isn't for sale, and that stand is one of them! Look, you really want it? It cost me a thousand bits. Hoof that much over and it's yours.”
“This is an outrage! I'm going to go find a manager and have you two fired!” The stallion stormed off, infuriated. Laugh track trotted back over to Light's side.
“He, uh, knows we're volunteers, right?”
“Buck if I know.”
“Uh… ‘scuse me?” Laugh and Light noticed a colt, no older than ten, walk up to them. “My daddy told me to come try and buy that funny looking lamp from you. He said you would sell it to a foal.”
Light let out an exasperated sigh. “Hey Laugh, do you think I could possibly facehoof hard enough to knock myself out?”
“I doubt it.”
The colt perked up. “Oh, there's my daddy! And some old mare.” The three turned and looked, noticing the angry customer returning with the school's principal.
“Miss Slide Rule! Nice to see you,” Laugh greeted his old teacher. “How are you?”
“I've been better. This stallion dragged me over here saying you won't sell him a lamp?”
Light glared at the stallion, who was grinning as though he had the upper hoof. “He wants to buy my expensive, custom-built repair stand. You saw us bring it in this morning to fix the lights, remember?”
“Oh, yes, I remember that. Well, I'm afraid it is their stand, so they can choose not to sell it, sir. I suggest you drop the mater.”
“FINE! But I'm calling the Better Business Bureau and having this place shut down!” He stomped off in a rage with his colt in tow.
With a final question of, “He really thinks he can get a charity event at a school shut down? Or did he expect to shut down the school?” Slide Rule also left the area.
Light fixture breathed a sigh of relief. “Glad that's over with.”
Laugh track chuckled. “Hey Light, how much for the maintenance stand?”
“Don't you start.”
“But it's a SALE!”
“Alright, you can have it free of charge…” Light picked up the stand in his magic and levitated it towards his friend. Laugh turned tail and started galloping away. “...after I shove it down your throat! Hold still!”
Slap Stick chuckled at his son. “Sure, Laugh. Sit down, I'll tell you about one of my favorite memories from when I was a young stallion…”
“I hate this. I hate this so much.”
“Hey, it's a living.”
Slap Stick and his brother Heavy Set trudged through the rain, towing a heavy metal cart full of trash that had been compacted into cubes. Being a garbage pony as a part-time job wasn't fun, but it was the kind of job that required strong earth ponies like Slap and Heavy to heft the trash into the cart and pull it. So, there they were: two brothers, hauling trash, in the rain. What's more, the rain was making the garbage in the cart less like a pile of trash and more like a soup of disgusting things, so the two had to be more and more cautious as they slowly tipped cubes into the slop they were hauling with each stop they made.
As the two made their way to the Mareiot hotel, Slap Stick groaned. “Alright, let's get this over with. Biggest load of garbage on the block, here we come.” At the very least, the rain relented, leaving the sky a somber overcast.
Working together, the pair parked the cart near the exit and started hefting the heavy blocks into the cart slowly, ensuring they didn't cause a splash. Slap was weaker than his brother, so he was struggling a little to keep up, but managed to handle it until the last large cube. The brothers worked together to lift it, Slap Stick visibly struggling.
“Hey, Slap. What's a tree's favorite drink?”
Slap knew what was about to happen. He didn't want it to happen, but it was going to. “Heavy, don't you dare! I barely have a grip as it is!”
“Root beer!”
Slap stick let out an amused snort, which evolved into a full blown laugh, dropping the cube to the ground with a thud. “Dang it, Heavy! Now we gotta lift it again.” Slap used his weight to raise the cube of trash up, his hooves not having the best grip due to the rain.
“Hey, Slap. Hey, little bro. What did the elderly pirate say when somepony asked his age?”
“No…”
“Aye matey!”
“Ha ha h- Celestia damn it, Heavy! You made me drop it again!” Digging his hooves under the cube, Slap lifted it with his brother one more time, determined to not drop it again.
“Hey, Slap. Slaaaap. Hey, Slap Stick.”
“I'm not listening to you anymore.” Slap positioned himself under the cube, carefully moving it into position so he could tip it into the murky soup in the cart.
“What's the difference between a piano, a tuna, and a pot of glue?”
“Aha! I know that one, you can't fool me! You can tune a piano, but you can't tuna fish! You won't make me drop it this time! Wait…” he paused, holding the cube teetering on the edge. “What about the pot of glue? Never heard that part.”
“I knew you'd get stuck on that one.”
“WILL YOU TWO FILTHY MUD PONIES HURRY UP?” An angry unicorn stallion stormed up in a fancy tuxedo, fuming mad at the pair. “Your stupid garbage cart has been blocking the exit for a good five minutes, and I'm going to be late! Just rear up…” he reared up on his hind legs, so done with waiting he was willing to finish the job for the brothers.
“Wait, don't!” They cried in unison.
“And KICK IT IN!” The stallion bucked the trash cube with all his might, sending it toppling into the sludge in the cart. The resulting impact sent a wave of liquified garbage cascading over the sides of the cart, swamping the immediate area in icky, stinky goop. Slap stick was the only one to react fast enough, diving under the cart to avoid the incoming torrent of gross. The rich stallion didn't even have time to see what was happening before he was drenched, and Heavy Set could only look on in horror as the disgusting splash claimed his cleanliness as well.
“Oh, jeez, that smells AWFUL!” Slap cried out, emerging from his hiding spot. What did you guys roll in?”
“Slap, we need to go. Now!” Heavy quickly hitched himself back up to the trash cart, Slap following suit as they fled the hotel grounds, leaving a stunned, smelly, and now decisively irate stallion standing stock still behind to reconsider his patience and life choices.
As they galloped away, Slap spared a glance at his brother, a grin on his face as a chortle escaped his lips. “Hey big bro, what's slimy, smelly, and got what he deserved?”
“I swear to Celestia, if you finish that sentence I'm gonna kick you so hard later that-”
“The answer is you!”
Legless Reptiles Aboard a Public Transportation Vehicle
The snow on the ground was thick as a family of three wheeled their suitcases up their walkway and into their house. Among the three of them, Laugh Track bounded in first, shaking off the cold. “Woohoo! Finally home from Grandma's. That train ride was too long!”
“Agreed,” His mother, Punchline, concurred. “And while I certainly didn't want to take the late train and get home at 1 in the morning, somepony insisted on it to save bits.” She shot a glare at her husband Slap Stick. He sheepishly grinned.
“At least we got home, right? You two go to the bathroom, I'll start unpacking.”
Laugh and Punchline were more than happy to have the chance of relieving themselves, Laugh taking the hall bathroom while his mother retreated to the master bathroom. Slap sighed, setting up one of the suitcases in his room and opening it, sifting through its contents.
“Let's see… Beach towel, need to wash that. Pillowcase, need to wash that. The birdhouse Grandma gave us after it fell in the yard...Wait, what's that?” As soon as the words left his muzzle, a colorful snake popped its head out of the luggage, flicking its tongue at him inquisitively.
Time slowed to a crawl for Slap as his instincts sent a shiver up his spine. Then, in a moment of pure genius, he shut the suitcase, trapping the reptile inside. “SWEET CELESTIA'S TEATS!” He cried out in shock. “GET OVER HERE NOW!”
Not a moment later, both ponies dashed into the room, having just finished going. “Dad, what the heck?! You never curse. Are you okay?”
“There's a snake in the suitcase.”
Punchline and Laugh Track took a moment to process this, blinking. “Uh, honey,” Punchline began, “I appreciate your attempts at it, but stand-up comedy is my talent. And it's too late for jokes.”
“Yeah Dad, not funny.”
Slap shook his head. “No, there ACTUALLY is a snake. And it was colorful.”
“...what? No seriously… WHAT?!”
Punchline took a cautious step back. “Burn the suitcase. Burn it.”
“I agree Dad, burn it.”
“Will you two relax?” Slap pleaded. “I closed the suitcase. It's stuck in there. We'll just open it outside and let it out. Problem solved.”
“And what if it bites our dog Yappers? What if it's venomous, and a… what did you call it again, Laugh, sweetie?”
“An invasive species, Mom. And that would be bad. Burn it, Dad.”
“I'm not gonna burn it! Let's go outside and get a better look.”
And so, the trio went outside into the cold night air, each arriving with something to deal with the snake. Slap Stick brought a long wooden rod to drag the snake out of the bag. Punchline brought a luminous crystal so they could see. And Laugh Track brought…
“Son, where did you get four swords?”
“Okay first off, these are katanas. Second, Uncle Heavy Set sent me them for Hearth's Warming a few years back, remember? He may collect crazy stuff be he sure knows how to find cool stuff. I don't even read Nieghponese Manga and I like these! When the snake attacks you, you'll thank me.”
Slap rolled his eyes. “And what exactly are you going to do?”
“Use my legendary Four Kingdoms Sword Style! Nopony knows it except me mainly because I just created it, and it uses special moves like the blade claw, whirling windmince, and my ultimate move!”
“Which is what?”
“Throw all four swords at it and run away. I call it the Yeet and Retreat!”
“Of course you do. Hey, better idea. Why don't we go get that Earth Pony, Animal Control, who lives down the road? He could probably help us.”
“Well, good news. This little guy is just a corn snake. He was probably more scared of you than you were of it!” Animal Control laughed as his newest reptile friend slithered through his mane to find a warm spot to sleep. “If you want, I could fish him out of my mane and you could adopt the little gu-”
“NO!” Laugh, Slap, amd Punchline cried in unison, almost replicating the Royal Canterlot Voice.
“Well, then I'll keep him.” And with that, he left the family be.
Punchline spoke up. “Are we still burning the suitcase?”
“No, sweetie.”
“Hey Mom! Mom. Moooom. We smuggled a snake on our railroad trip home. Guess what movie that means we lived through?”
