>“But Anooon!”
>And there she goes again, Gloom Wing.
“No.”
>She pouts at you, as though her life depended on you going to this event.
>You gruffly sigh at her.
“Look, I just get bad vibes off of that Hekesuh. Call it primate instincts.”
>She traces her hoof along the floor back and forth.
>“But... But we were gonna play pin the tail on the pony.”
>So this isn't even an “adult” party?
>Nooo way you're going.
“As much fun as that sounds, Gloom Wing... I have to decline. I've told you why and you still won't stop bothering me.”
>Out of nowhere she falls to the floor, clasping your leg.
>Begging wails disgrace your ears.
>“P-P-PLEAAAASE! I PROMISED EVERYPONY I'D GO!!”
>You slam your palm into your face.
“No! Why do I have to go anyways?”
>Her cries stop, but...
>A sly smirk creeps up onto her face.
>And you don't like the look of it one bit.
>“Because if you don't...”
>She gets up.
>“A collection that is very important to you...”
>You freeze to the spot.
>She can't have found them.
>She can't!
>“Might just happen to, hmm... disappear.”
>Your jaw drops.
“What. Did. You. Find.”
>Her white mane flopping over her eyes, she giggles at you.
>“Oh, you know what I'm talking about.”
>Not the collection.
“Not... not my cardboard cutouts of the Wonderbolts?”
>The damn pony doubles over.
>“That's the one!”
>With the most miserable look you can possibly pull, you grimace at the little shit.
>It only causes her to laugh even harder.
>“Oho-oh Anon! You sure know how to pick 'em!”
>Guh.
>What does that even mean?
>Tantrum time.
>Stomp out of the room as loud as you possibly can.
>“Aw, come on! It's only a joke!”
>You ignore her.
>“Well, the pickin' 'em bit was...”
>Spinning around, you glare at her.
“You touch them and you won't have many more parties to go to.”
>Her face turns static, shocked by your sentence.
>“Well... uh...”
>Oh for God's sake.
“What did you do with them.”
>She smiles nervously, eyes darting from side to side.
>Moving back into the room, you corner her.
“What did you do with them?!”
>Her hooves scrape along the floor as she backs up.
>“H-heh... Funny you should ask that...”
“NOW!”
>“They're on the roof! Don't hurt me!”
>You can imagine yourself doing that whole kettle-boil-ear thing.
>Like in the cartoons.
“GET THEM DOWN!”
>Gloom Wing zips out from underneath you, and then begins to laugh again.
>“Only if you come to the partyyyy!”
>Her voice trails as she bolts out of the room.
>You're gonna fuckin get that mare if it's the death of you.
>A whoosh makes its way to your ears.
>Hoofing it outside, you see she's already flown to the top of the roof.
>“Hello Anon! I see you see me seeing you down there!”
>Holding up a finger you go to speak.
>...Nothing comes out.
>“Now... Are you gonna come to the party?”
>You got something to say now though.
“GIVE ME MY CUTOUTS!”
>“Ah-ah! No getting touchy with me, Mister! Are... ya... coming... to the party?”
>This is hopeless.
>She's got wings.
>You got nothing.
>If you ever want to see your life-size cutout of Spitfire with a quote that says “You're great!” at the end of your bed at 1am while you're crying over the thought that you-
>No, stop that brain.
>Anyway, if you ever want to see it again you'll just have to give in.
>You sigh.
“Fine,” you grumble quietly.
>“What was that?”
“Fine!”
>“Didn't catch that!”
>You're at your last wit.
“FIIIINE! I'LL GO TO YOUR DAMN PARTY!”
>She squeals with joy.
>“Great! I've already got an outfit for you!”
>Flapping her wings she zooms back indoors and brings out a cowboy hat, a polka-dot shirt and some khaki short-shorts.
>Her smile stretches ear to ear.
>“Isn't it great?!”
>She's so excited about this awful outfit.
>For the second time this night, your palm slaps your face.
“...I think I'll choose what I wear, Gloom Wing.”