Little Colt Anon

    > wake up in the morning feeling decisively like a rapper.

    > brush your teeth with legitimate toothpaste.

    > Eat a delicious breakfast that your mother prepared for you

    > It's pancakes, your favorite.

    > Mom says that she loves you, ruffles you hair

    > Dad walks in, kisses mom, and heads out

    > You're not big enough to go to school, so you just eat, wash up.

    > lay next to Mom and watch pony television

    > She's so warm and keeps rubbing your head.

    > Fall asleep

 

 

    >wake up

    > Mom's gone, but you're all snuggled up in a blanket that you were under with mom.

    > it smells like her.

    > Climb out, walk over to the kitchen. You're hungry.

    > Mom's in there, doing some paper work.

    > " Good morning, sweetheart. "

    " Morning, mom."

    > look around, get the last pancake for a snack out of the fridge.

    > "Breakfast for lunch? Good idea."

    > smile. Mom is always so nice.

    > " Eat up. If you don't get enough, I'll make more. You're a growing colt, and you need to eat like one.

    " Thanks, mom. I think this is good. "

    > " If you say so. But you know what? I don't think I've had a hug ALL DAY "

    > This is an atrocity.

    > Give mom a great big hug.

    > " I sure do love you, Nonny."

    " I love you too, mom."

 

    > Return to your room

    > Dig out your Mare-Do-Well action figure

    > Suddenly remember that you promised to go over to your best friend's house today.

    > Toss away the action figure into your heap of similar ones. You assume you'll clean them up some day.

    > Run downstairs, but slow when you reach the bottom.

    > Mom says not to run in the house, but you don't want to be late.

    " Mom, can I go over to NonA's house? "

    > " How long will you be staying? "

    " I dunno. "

    > Hear Mom laugh.

    > " Yeah, sure, honey. Ask her mother to write down her pie recipe, OK?"

    > You don't hear the last part because you dash out the door at a dead heat.

    > Nona's house is next door to yours, but Mom says that you always have to ask before you go out. Dad always laughs when you ask him. You like your dad. He can do anything.

    > Knock on the door.

    > Nona's mom opens it, says that she's just upstairs.

    > Nona's mom is nice too. She always gives you sweets when you come over.

    > You're not supposed to run in other ponie's houses, so you walk over to the stairs and up them.

    > Nona's room is the first door on the left.

    > Knock on her door, though you always know that you can come in.

    > She opens the door and looks at you.

    > " Heya Anon! C'mon! "

 

    > Nona's your best friend. Every couple of days you go over to her house and play. Some times she comes over, but you like going over to hers for the previously mentioned sweets.

    > Her room looks an awful lot like yours, but her bed looks better. You like your bed more, though. Your dad made it for you.

    > You don't see Nona's dad often, she says that he works a lot.

    > When you grow up, you're going to be just like your dad. You're going to build things, and fix things, and when you get a cut you're going to just go on like your dad does.

    > One time your dad got hit real bad on the head.

    > There was a huge black spot the size of your hoof, but he said that he was as fine as ever.

    > He said that you should have seen the other guy.

    > He's so cool.

    > Nona throws a toy at you, un-zoning you out.

    > " Hey! Pay attention! "

    > Pick up the toy.

    " What's up today?"

    > " I found a big bug in the garden. Wanna see? "

    " You know it! "

    > You don't really like bugs, but they're cool in a disgusting, gross, creepy way.

    > Nona pulls out a glass jar with a HUGE beetle in it.

    > You pull back, and she tosses the jar at you.

    > Catch it and hold it out as far as you can.

    > " Cool, right? "

    > It's making clicky noises and moving around.

    " Yeah. Cool."

    > Put it on the floor for her to pick up later.

    > " I'm hungry. Want some Kool-Hayd?"

    " You have no idea how much I want some Kool-Hayd. "

    > Cherry Kool-Hayd is the best.

    > When you get a bad scrape, Dad always makes it and has you drink it with lots of food and go to bed. He says that it helps you heal. He says that the food helps it work, and the sleep's so it can work the best..

    > It always works.

 

    > You follow Nona downstairs.

    > Neither of you is tall enough to get into the fridge.

    > You stand around by the fridge while she runs around the corner to get help.

    > Suddenly hear the swing of the door.

    > Look over, it seems like Nona's dad is here.

    > "Daddy!"

    > Yepperoni.

    > " Hey there, Nona! Is your friend over?"

    > " Yeah! He's over here! Come help! "

    > Straight to the point.

    > " What's going on?"

    > " We just need your help getting some Kool-Hayd"

    > " That stuff will rot your teeth."

    > " So?"

    > " You're hopeless, Nona."

    > They approach. She's pulling him along. He looks tired.

    " Hello mister."

    > " Hey there Anon. So, you two want some Kool-Hayde, right? Who am I to deny you it?"

    > " C'mon, dad! "

    > " Oh quit you whining. I'm getting it "

    > He ruffles her mane. Dad did that sometimes. Mom someties did it to Dad. He didn't like that.

    > In the meantime, your Kool-Hayde was retrieved and poured into glasses.

    > "Thanks, dad!"

    "Thank you"

    > That's what Mom always told you to say when big ponies did nice things for you.

    > " You two have fun."

    > Follow Nona up the stairs.

    " What now?"

    > You're getting bored.

    >" When I caught that bug-"

    > Nona points vigorously at the trapped insect. It seems to have slowed down now.

    > " I was all like 'Swoosh' and he was all ' Oh no!' but I got him anyway."

    > She emphasized the swooshing by jumping on you and trying to put you in a glass jar like where she had Mr. Buggles.

    " Hey! Stop!"

    > You're too big to go in the jar, so she just shoves your muzzle in.

    > It's hard to talk like this.

    > " I caught an Anon!"

    > Push her back and try to pry it off of your mouth.

    > " Ow!"

    > Pull it off, then look over.

    > It seems that you pushed her over the toy box.

    " That's what you get. "

    > "Meanie!"

    > " I'm telling mom! "

    " Go ahead! She'll tell you not to put JARS on ponies!"

    > Nona runs out. You just know what's going to happen. She's going to come in and have to apologize.

    > " ANONYMOUS! "

    > Uh oh. That sounds like mom.

    > Look over, see Mr. Buggles.

    > Poor soul. Trapped.

    > Go over to his jar and lay a hoof on the top, one on the side.

    > Nothing. You were never good at opening jars.

    > Silly anon.

    > Open your mouth wide and place it over the lid.

    > Turn the actual jar and the lid comes off.

    > Mr Buggles skitters off.

    > Bugs sure are gross.

    > " ANONYMOUS! DOWN HERE, NOW!"

    > She sounds mad.

    > Run down.

    > Your parents and hers glare angrily at you.

    > " Are you going to explain why you're hitting my filly?"

    > Nona's mom is mad, but her dad just looks tired.

    " She started it! She put my mouth in a jar and wouldn't leave me alone!"

    > " Is this true?"

    > "No!"

    " She's lying!"

    > Her mom's furious. You swear you can see her face getting redder.

    > "That's enough! Since neither of you will tell the truth, Nona, you're grounded. I'd like to ask the same out of your parents.

    > Dad nods, and your mother takes this as encouragement.

    > Dad always said not to hit girls. You don't remember him saying that, but you're sure he said it at some point.

    > " Sounds fine enough. Come on, Anonymous."

    > She was a liar, just like all girls like her. Your head itches like when you're trying to remember something you just forgot. Not an message, but an implication that this kind of thing has happened before to you.

    > Follow Dad.

    > Every step you take pulls you closer to your house.

    > " We don't have all day. "

    > Catch up with Mom. Dad is already inside.

    > " So. Care to explain why you're starting fights?

    > The words rush out of your mouth.

    " She was talking about bugs and catching one in a jar and then she grabbed me and put my mouth in a jar and I tried to get it off but"

    > " Anon. Deep breaths."

    > Take a deep breath. It calms you.

    " Well, she put the jar on my mouth, and I couldn't get it off. Then she wouldn't let me try to get it off, she just kept bugging me. "

    > " Where's the part where you hit her?"

    > " Hit? I pushed her so that I could get the jar off. I got it off then I saw that she had fell over the toy box. "

    > Mom and Dad look at each other. You didn't like it.

 

    > and you you were grounded.

    > " No candy,"

    > Mom said.

    > " No going over, no snacks, no nothing"

    > Mom didn't like you hitting mares.

    > You sat in your room and thought about what you'd done, just like she said.

    > The door opening broke your from your thought and the dramatic conflict of your Thunder-Thigh action figure and Mare-Do-Well.

    > " Hey, Anon. Mom's gone. Come with me. "

    > It was Dad.

    " I'm grounded. "

    > Dad shakes his head.

    > " Mom's out. Come on. "

    > This is boring. You head out to follow Dad.

    > " We're watching a movie."

    > You think suddenly about how pony television is powered by magic. It seems absurd, really. It really should work off off lightning, or something like that. Catch it in bottles. Cans?

    " Grounded, remember?"

    > " Anonymous, I taught you to tell the truth. If I can't believe you, what does that say about me? If you say you didn't start it you didn't start it. Besides, how often does Mom go out?"

    > Dad did teach you to be a good little colt. You always told the truth, because that's what Dad said Celestia would want from you. Celestia is always watching, he said.

    > You sat next to Dad while he started it. Dad, he was a Earth Pony like you. Like Mom, too. You have trouble thinking that your parents could be so different then you. It's just an idea you can't grasp.

    > " We're watching a movie all colts should watch. Can't grow up right without it. Dirty Marey. "

    " Sounds exciting. "

    > " It is! Mom wouldn't like us watching it, so lips sealed, OK, Anon? "

    " Deal! "

 

    > You're thirty minutes in and you love it. It's just 'Pow! Bang!' all over. You can tell why Dad likes it.

    " I want to be a policepony when I grow up. "

    > Dad just smiles. He likes it when you and him get time together, but it's not often. Dad works a lot.

    > You're watching intently, Dad with one hoof over your back. Family bonding, ho!

    > It's a chase. Marey, a Pegasus, has a criminal with a gun at the bottom of the stairs.

    "But being as this is a Colt .44, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk? "

    > You watch as he cocks the gun.

    > You know, moving your entire hoof around to cock it is really less cool then cocking it with magic or something. Maybe something on your hoof. The thought makes your head hurt.

    > As it turns out, he fired six shots.

    > Dad checks the time, and returns with urgency.

    " What's going on? "

    > Dad never looks this scared.

    > " Your mother was supposed to have gotten back ten minutes ago."

    > In a extrememly convenient fashion, you hear the door open.

    > " I'm back. "

    > You hurry to rush back to your room as quietly as you can, but before you're off the couch Mom walks in on you struggling to get up and Dad with a Magic Disk, or as he called it, a MD, in his mouth.

    > Mom looks annoyed.

    > Mom looks mad.

    > Mom looks furious.

    > Mom looks eerily similar to a tomato.

    > " Anonymous! Back to your room! Blue! Come with me! You have some SERIOUS explaining to do! "

    > Abort.

    > Sorry Dad. Your sacrifice was not in vain.

    > Run to your room.

    > It's only a matter of time before Mom shows up. Clutch your Thunder-Thigh action figure tight to your chest and huddle on your bed.

 

    > And so you wait.

    > Thunder-Thigh would know what to do. He's fly away, and deflect a meteor or a bear or something. Then, in stead of ' You watched a movie while you were grounded, Thunder-Thigh' they'd say ' You saved us all from that bear, Thunder-Thigh.'

    > Bears are scary. The thought brings with it the ideas of winter, potatoes and hurryin', for some reason.

    > And you endure on your vigil, occasionally venturing off of your bed to collect some more support.

    > Mare-Do-Well here, Cumminzide, the amazing stretching mare, among your others.

    > Even Rappe, who was a bad guy. He'd protect you.

    > And so you waited, with your little army there to protect you.

    > Even when it got dark, you were there. You didn't dare step out of your room.

 

    > You're standing around, watching a oddly dressed pony with a parasol sing a song. It's oddly catchy, and familiar.

    > " I understand equations both the simple and quadratical, about binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news..."

    > Oh dear. He seems to be stuck.

    > " With manony cheerful facts anonymousbout the square of the WAKE UP! "

    > You're catapulted from your dream into the harsh light of day.

    > Your makeshift army lays in tatters about you.

    > Cumminzide, the amazing stretching mare, along with your various comrades lay in various comrades degrees of dissaray..

    > Thunder-Thigh's even on the other side of the room.

    > Roll out of bed, opening the door and heading towards the kitchen for breakfast.

    > Mom's there, eating. Dad's there too. Hay bacon and salad seem to be the nourishment of the morning.

    > Assume the position on a chair. You're a big pony and big ponies sit in chairs.

    > " First of all, I'd like to say that you're still grounded. "

    > You think back to the events of yesterday.

    > You could hear it now, even as you muched silently on your bacon made of hay.

    > This year a colt like you had been framed for a crime you didn't commit.

    >He escaped from a high security bedroom and watched a movie with his Dad.

    >Today, still wanted by his Mom, he survives as a soldier of fortune.

    > If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find him, maybe you can hire Anonymous.

    > Yeah, that's how it would go. You think silently of vans and flying turtles.

    > " Anonymous, I asked you a question. "

    " Huh? Sorry. What was it? "

    > " Do you understand, Anonymous?"

    " Yes. "

    > Understand what? But you thought about it, and while your mother was a benevolent, omniscient being, you thought it safer to agree.

    > " Good. Blue, understand?"

    > Dad didn't even look up from his food.

    > " Yes, honey. "

    > " Good. I'll see you in a bit. I need to go over to Hokey's and pick up some baking soda and a few other things. And if I walk in on something..."

 

    > You shiver at the thought.

    > Mom walks out, turning from colorful deity to silhouette, then nothing as the door shuts behind her.

    > You spare a glance towards your father.

    > Suprisingly enough, he meets yours.

    > " No funny business, eh? You mother, she would tan my hide if she came in on something. "

    " Okey dokey, Dad. "

    >" Speaking of funny business, school starts in a week. You should be getting ready. You're getting to be a big guy, ya know. "

    " Yeah! I'm gonna be as big as you! "

    > " You'll be bigger. You're the best of your mother and me, with none of the bad parts. "

    > Bad parts? Your parents don't have bad parts. Mom got mad sometimes, and Dad got really tired and didn't want to play occasionally.

    > You get mad and sleepy too. Though you don't get mad at Mom, because Mom's great.

    > Begin checking over your bags. You were a clever pony, everyone said so. You were smart, and and could talk really well.

    > The old ponies really liked it when you talked to them. They were kind of saggy and gross. Eww.

    > Like a few days old celery.

    > Your bags contain: 2 number 2 pencils, twenty sheets of paper, and four folders.

    >You don't know why you need so much paper or folders at all, but it felt like a habit that you already had. You simply fell right back into it.

    > You left space for books and the like. You also had a brown bag with a lunch in it. It had been there for a few days, but your reasoning at the time thought it sound.

    > It used to be a fresh sandwich and an apple'

    > Now it's a gross sandwich and a gross apple.

    > You gently take the bag in your mouth and make the long trek to the trash can, trying not to taste it.

    > It's gross. You tasted it.

    > It tasted like a butt.

    > You didn't see Dad on your walk through the house. He must have gone to somewhere, to do something.

    > You're sure he was doing a great job at it, because he did everything great.

 

    > It's time for school.

    > Bags packed, fresh lunch made as per Mom's instructions.

    > Fresh sandwich, fresh apple.

    > Not much, but it will suffice you.

    " Bye Mom! "

    > As usual, Dad's off. Mom simply waves and you set on your way.

    > It's a short walk over to the school.

    > Some of the other kids, they fear this day. The first day of school.

    > But you're a smart pony, and you don't feel as intimidated as others.

    > In fact, the sight feels oddly familiar.

    > The weight of your bags on your back feels as though it had fell back into a rut made long ago.

    > No fear within you, arrive.

    > It's a mess. Ponies with their mothers and fathers, crying tears. Wimps.

    > Assume the position at the front of the class. You know in your heart what must be done by you.

    > " Everyp0ny? It's time. "

    > The words are laced with the ominous premonition of being trapped in here for most of the day, but you endure like a a iceberg under a boat.

    > The mare teaching the class introduces herself to be Miss Cheerilee, and takes up her chalk and board.

    > It begins.

    > It's simple. You seem to be ahead of the others. Two plus two, four. Four plus four, eight.

    > Miss Cheerilee even calls you out, stating that you should let some others answer.

    > You just can't wait. The answer is RIGHT THERE in front of them, yet they groan like they can't add.

    > Math ends.

    > " All right, time for lunch! Go out and play. I'll be out in a minute. "

    > Merge with the crowd, walk out.

    > Withdraw lunch, commence eating procedure.

    > A sandwich. Your mouth waters at the thought. All that waiting grew your hunger mightily. Equip it in your right hoof. Press X to use..

    > It's knocked out of your inventory by a grey hoof.

    " Hey! "

    > " Not smart enough to see that, were you? "

 

    > Examine the situation.

    > There's the obvious grey colt, with the obligatory lackeys. A orange pegasus and a green unicorn. Not a cutie mark or a penny's worth of decency to any.

    > " I'm Stereo, that's Wings and he's Nose. Smarties like you should know what to expect. "

    > Combat mode activated.

    > Shift off of the bench, still by your lunch.

    > The originally named Wings makes a rush to your left.

    > First, crack the eggs.

    > Bring the left hoof up, parry.

    > Scramble.

    > Bring it down, along with your victim. Riposte for 150% damage. Critical.

    > The remaining combatants are visibly taken aback. The tell tale glow of a horn to Stereo's side alerts you to the growing crisis.

    > Roll to the left before a rock ambles through the air gently in your general direction.

    > Stereo lifts a hoof.

    > Parry.

    > Too late!

    > It catches your good above the right eye.

    > Stereo bounces off, shaking his hoof.

    > " Anonymous! Stereo! Over here! "

    > Move towards the voice despite the pain. It seems that Wings and Brown have deserted their leader. Such is the loyalty of the common lackey.

    > It's Miss Cheerilee.

    > " No excuses. With me, now. "

    > Stereo's grumbles contrast highly with your silence. It would seem that you have gotten yourself into this predicament.

    > You think of this Torment, and the though springs to your mind that you'd do better having put all those points into charisma.

    > You can't discern the meaning of it, but the thought thrives withing you anyway.

 

    > Cheerilee's glare slides across you and the grey colt by your side with almost audible sharpness.

    > " I won't tolerate it. Now, are you going to explain what just happened, or are you both going to be telling this to your parents? "

    > Pssh, you've done worse then get in a fight at school, havent't you? Have you? The train of thought abrubtly runs into a wall of foggy memories.

    > " He hit me and my buddies! I was just trying to get past and eat my lunch! "

    > His voice has took on that whiny, irritating tone often found in the young.You give him a venomous glance.

    " Yeah right. I was sitting there, just about to take a great big bite of my sandwich, then this guy and his cronies come along and steal my food. "

    > " You hurt Wings! "

    " He rushed me like a HOBO with a SHIV! "

    > You can't tell where that came from, but it seems appropriate.

    > Cheerilee makes disapproving noises at you.

    > " Anonymous! I expected better out of you! Such a smart colt, then you go getting into fights and accusing ponies of attacking you! "

    > Crap oh crap, you really should have put more points into charisma.

    " Why would I start something with three ponies I don't even know? "

    > " Why would you?"

    > He's playing like you actually hit him. What a wuss.

    > This is what you get for putting all your points into Resistance.

    > " Anonymous, you're going to answer for all of this later. In the meantime, get to your seat. Class is starting. "

    > Buttsnarks. You really messed that one up.

    > Assume the position.

    > You're just the world's toilet today, eh? First day of school, and only past lunch. At least you can say you were winning.

    > History. You have a little more trouble with this, but it's simplistic enough. Praise the sun propaganda, all of it.

    > It's essay time.

    > Describe what you've learned today. How typical.

    > You briefly ponder being snarky, or to be nice.

 

 

    > You decide to be snarky.

    > Dear Miss Cheerilee. Today I learned that even when you're telling the truth, sometimes ponies won't believe you and will side with their deciever in stead.

    > Also, that the ponies around me can't to simple math.

    > Your student, Anonymous.

    > Yeah, 10/10, A++ material there. Turn it in. Recieve a annoyed look from Miss Cheerilee for your trouble.

    > She casts an eye over it, then back at you.

    > " Don't let this be what I think it is, Anonymous. "

    > You can't come up with a proper retort, so you simply make a tactical retreat.

    > Miss Cheerilee just sighs and tells the class that they can go.

    > Stand. Notice that your eye is throbbing.

    > You'd almost forgot about having gotten hit. Aside from the pain and the other things, you were doing fine.

    > " Mister Anonymous. Please tell your parents that I would like to see them after school tomorrow. "

    > France it. Head down, bags already on, all engines forward.

    > This is bad. Real bad.

 

    > Begin the long march home.

    > No regret for your sins.

    > Your eye hurts terribly, though.

    > You'll have to put some ice on that.

    > Begin the approach.

    > Enter.

    > Mother is there, busily doing something or other.

    > " Hey honey! How was your first day of school?"

    " I got in a fight, but otherwise the school's great."

    > You can hear the gasp from here, and the sound of hooves rushing towards you.

    > It sounds somewhat like someone clapping two coconuts together.

    > " Oh my! Anon! What happened? Why?"

    " A fellow tried to take my lunch and siced his followers on me. First, I would like to say that I won. Secondly, Miss Cheerilee wants to see you. "

    > " Oh she'll be seeing me all right. "

    > You get the feeling your mother is in your defence.

    > " When does she want to see me? "

    " After school. I should be fine, though. "

    > " Not with it looking like that you won't. Come on. My poor baby, getting picked on on his first day. "

    > You stand, as you have always. Follow your mother into the kitchen, where she puts ice into a icing bag and drops it on your face.

    > " Don't take that off, hun, or the swelling won't go down. "

    > You didn't need that eye anyway. Or that front hoof. You can see/walk just as fine without it.

    > your father, you know he'd support you. Besides, you won. He'd like that.

 

>It's the next day.

> Cheerilee kept you inside during lunch, and kept giving you dirty looks.

> " Mister Anonymous? Did you remember to tell your parents to see me? "

" Yes, Miss Cheerilee. "

> You don't even look up. Just take another bite.

> The silence in the room grows heavy.

> Finish your lunch, dig out your work. Nothing else to do, and you've already done all your math. Might as well practice your reading.

> Reading was a problem you had. You liked to read, but you haven't got the alphabet down yet.  Go over your history.

> It's all spot on according to you, as usual.

> Cheerilee leaves for a moment and alerts the other ponies that it's time to resume class.

> Excel.

> School ends.

> Mother arrives.

> " Miss Cheerilee."

> " Miss Hurley. "

> If looks could kill, you ponder the bleach to water ratio to remove blood from fur.

> " Anonymous, please step outside. We have much to discuss. Come in when I ask. "

> Cheerilee seems to make no room for argument.

> Make a beeline out. You just hope that you can avoid the fallout. Maybe plants will grow there by spring? Who knows.

> You wait for a while. You just know that they've been in there half an hour, or maybe an hour. The sun hasn't set, so...

> " Anonymous. Join us. "

> Miss Cheerilee slinks back into the building, and you do something similar in following her.

> " If what you say is true, then I'll let you off without punishment seeing as it was your first day. If this happens again, don't expect such leniency. "

> Nod and step over by your mother.

> Exit with her.

" Thanks, Mom. "

> " You're welcome. I love you, Anon. I don't want to hear about this again. "

 

    > Day three of school.

    > Silently ponder the events of school building up to this.

    > You're dominating in math, just embarrasing the non-you portion of the classroom.

    > They can't even grasp the concept of subtraction, half of them.

    > You'd like to see them start on exponents.

    > Then again, your don't really remember how to do exponents.

    > You remain inside, while the other ponies play outside.

    > Miss Cheerilee simply sits at her desk and looks over your papers.

    > She always seems so cheery and energetic during class, but she seems deflated at the moment. Tired, even.

    > Remain and endure, even as the ponies rush inside. A glance outside assures your conviction-it's starting to rain.

    > The growing clouds couldn't tell you otherwise.

    > Watch Miss Cheerilee. She seems to brighten up immediately.

    > " Well, since you're all inside, let's get back to it! "

    > The collective groans almost overpower the growing patter of the rain on the roof.

    > History and Language are gone over in their turns, and you do well from your front seat spot.

    > " Have a nice day, everyp0ny! "

    > " Yes Miss Cheerilee! "

    > The schoolponies form a motley mob as they rush for the door. Mothers and fathers arrive with umbrellas, but your mother is absent.

    > The roar of the raging sky is cacophonous as you dash madly outside.

    > Your mane is flattened against your face instantly.

    > Sheets of rain batter you left and right. The screech of it in your ears deprives you of the luxury of hearing.

    > Your left eye is forced shut by your own mane, and your right is squinting to give you the slightest form of sight.

    > The rain chills your bones, but you can't help but derive a thrill from running through it, the dirt roads having already turned to a slurry of rapidly thinning mud.

    > Feeling in your hooves fades away and you only feel the constant shlorp shlorp as you pull each hoof in turn from the grasp of the ground.

 

    > Your hooves hurt and you're wet and tired and scared.

    > You've been walking forward so long, you can't even feel your hooves.

    > You can't even see what's in front of you, the distance being a blur.

    > It's the rain. Totally the rain in your eyes.

    > You're a big pony! You'll find home any second now!

    > Just have to keep on trotting.

    > And you do.

    > You trot until your legs hurt.

    > You trot untill you're so soaked that you don't even feel the rain.

    > You'd forget about the rain and the wind and the thunder, but you're too busy trying to keep your hopes up.

    > You tried praying, but that got you no where. You'd moved on to singing songs with your head down.

    " Look to the sun's rays, behold and offer praise..."

    > You felt a peculiar connection to that rhyme, despite the lack of a visible sun to praise.

 

    > When you lift your head, you spot a blur of a different color. It's an orange one, and you rush towards it with renewed vigor.

    > As you approach, it sharpens into a pony. Not a pony you know, but a pony none the less.

    > It's busily putting things into a cart, with that hurried intensity found in those who are trying to avoid being soaked when they're already so.

    " Hey! "

    > It doesn't even turn around.

    > " What do you want? I'm trying not to get soaked here! "

    " Can you tell me where we are? "

    > " Ponyville! Now scram! "

    > That was the least helpful thing you could have possibly gotten, but you make a run for it in the way you came.

    > Keep running.

    > The rhythm of your hooves is momentum enough to keep your spirits up.

    > Lightning crackles across the sky, assaulting you a moment later with a deafening crash.

    > The lightning was there before, but you hadn't noticed it until now.

 

    > Panic mode engaged.

    > Hoof it. You hurl past shops and houses, but Mom said not to talk to strangers and the shops weren't lit up.

    > One moment, you're galloping as fast as you can to anywhere but here.

    > The next, you've got a mouthful of mud and you're coated in it.

    > Panic mode disengaged.

    > Fight your way through the mud.

    > Regain your tentative traction.

    > Shake the mud off of your head and cast a gaze around. You're lost, and alone, and scared.

    > The motor that had been powering you through your adventure has run dry.

    > All systems critical.

    > Mission failure.

    > Examine your surroundings.

    > There's a tree, a house, and a bridge over a rampaging river.

    > Move towards the tree. The rain that had been coating you had already washed off, so you simply laid down by it.

    " I give up."

    > You'll just wait it out.

    > Under this tree, with the lightning and the rain and the wind.

    > It's marginally drier then you were a moment ago.

    > Plus, it's on a small hill!

    > You could cut the tree down and make a boat, if the flooding got too bad.

    > You'll just ignore how you can't possibly cut that tree down.

    > And how if you could, you couldn't carve a working boat out of it.

    > And how even if you could, that if the boat tipped then you can't swim.

    > And if you could, that you wouldn't know where to swim because you don't know where home is.

    > Begin the tears.

 

> There you are, cold, alone, and afraid.

> Under a tree, in the rain, with no idea where you are.

> And you're wet.

> If you weren't wet, you'd be doing so much better.

> But it's raining, and therefore you're wet.

> Your legs have given our from under you, letting you collapse into a lump of saddlebag, mane, and misery.

> You can't even feel the rain beating on you any more.

> It feels somewhat like it isn't even there.

> A quick observation shows that there's a hole in the clouds above the tree.

> " Hey! You lost? "

> It's a pegasus! He's shouting at you from the hole.

> He's green, with a darker green mane.

" Y-Yeah! "

> He starts to climb out.

> " Hey, Domino! Where do you think you're going? "

> The shout rings out from above you.

> He retreats back up to the clouds and more shouting is heard.

> Long enough for you to appreciate being dry, he descends again with a bit of could in hoof.

> " Hey there, little guy. "

" Hiya, mister! "

> " You're lost, eh? "

" Yeah. I've been walking forever. "

> " Well, let's just go for a bit more of a walk. "

> He's holding that bit of cloud above you , keeping most of your body remarkably un-rained on.

> You were still wet, you just weren't getting wetter.

> " Where do you think we should be going, little buddy?"

> You weren't supposed to talk to strangers, but he WAS helping you. You still didn't think you were supposed to tell him where you lived.

" Can you take me by the school? "

> " O' course! It's just over this hill. "

> Just over the hill? How far had you gone?

> You ascend the hill and sure enough, there it is.

> Just as you remember it, albeit wet.

> " There's the schoolhouse. If you can take it from here, I'm going to head back. "

" I can. Thanks, mister! "

> " Welcome. "

> And with that, he left.

> Move towards the school.

 

>  The door's unlocked, oddly.

> You were expecting to have to find your way home from here, hopefully with better luck then last time.

> Though in stead, you walked in. You expected it to be empty.

> You were wrong.

> There's Miss Cheerilee, looking tired once more. It seems she's looking over papers.

>  She seems just as suprised to see you as you her.

>" Anonymous? Why are you here? Shouldn't you have gone home?"

> You don't know how to explain it.

" I got lost. "

> " Lost? It's six in the afternoon. "

> Six? You've been lost THREE HOURS?

> You're going to be in so much trouble when you get home.

" I got really lost. "

> Well, you aren't wrong.

> " Anonymous, let's get you home. This can wait. Where do you live? "

> Miss Cheerilee is you teacher, therefore not a stranger.

" Well, it's red. "

> You know that your house is red, on the left side of the road, and it has a yard, but Miss Cheerilee doesn't look satisfied.

> " Well, let's just go the way you usually go. "

> Miss Cheerilee produces an umbrella and you follow her out into the weakening rain.

> You stayed close to her as you took your route back-you even saw the red building this time!

> Soon enough, there you were.

> Outside your house, with Mom and Dad rushing out to meet you anxiously.

> " Anonymous! "

> The cries are heard from both of your parents.

> " It seems Anonymous here got lost. "

> Mom's got a hold of you, and Dad seems to be talking to your teacher. You can't help but feel like all the times this has happened before, nothing good has come of it.

" Thanks Miss Cheerilee! "

> You wave, and she waves back.

> You're then pulled inside, hugged tightly, and told to take a bath.

> You're wet and covered in mud.

> But you're wet, covered in mud, and with your family, and that makes all the difference.

 

    > You're clean, on the couch, with Mom and Dad on either side of you. Dad's got one hoof over you, while Mom keeps rubbing your head.

    > You're all watching pony wrestling together on your magic television.

    > The Mane Event's doing a suplex to Randy Hornton.

    " Wow! "

    > " It's all staged. He probably had ketchup in his nose. "

    > You can't believe that it would be staged. He was just like 'Up, DOWN'.

    > You sure hope Randy's not hurt. He's got a match later with Mane. Mane wore a mask. Mane was scary.

    > Randy just lifted the Mane Event over his head, and did a drop with him!

    > Safe to say, you were engrossed.

    " I'm glad I got home in time to see this. "

    > " We'd hate for you to miss it. "

    > Dad pats you on the head, while Mom takes a deep breath.

    > " You shouldn't go walking around like that, where you can't see. I'm sure Miss Cheerilee will host you if it gets like that. "

    " Everyone else was leaving, and they didn't have a problem. "

    > You saw no flaw in your logic.

    > " Everyone else had a parent, according to Miss Cheerilee. "

    " Where were you? "

    > Your father seems to find that amusing. Mom, on the other hand, seems flustered.

    > " Oh, the mouthes of babes. "

    > " Enough of that, Blue! And you! To bed! "

    > You're not sure what set Mom off like that, but you run off to bed. You could really use it right now.

    > You walk over to your bedroom, open the door and look around.

    > It's cleaner then you left it- Mom kept telling you to take all your action figure out of that pile and put them into your toy box.

    > It was easier just to leave them there and grab the ones you like from the top.

    > Collapse into bed. It's made up, suprisingly. You don't remember doing it. Thunder-Thigh is even there.

    > Goodnight, Anonymous.

 

    > Arise.

    > Your bags are by your bed, ready to go. You wouldn't want to miss school, just in case they skip a few grades and you 're behind.

    > There's even an umbrella sticking out of the left bag.

    > Go, brush your teeth, wash off.

    > Get your bags and head down to the kitchen.

    > Eat your breakfast, Pony-O's and milk.

    > Wave goodbye to Mom, and head off to school.

    > You're even let outside at lunch, although Miss Cheerilee comes out and watches you.

    > Consume your sandwich and apple while constantly on the lookout for Stereo.

    > You don't talk to anyone, and no one talks to you.

    > How typical.

    > Oh well. Draw out your homework.

    > It's a test over the history of Celestia.

    > You think you've gotten it right.

    > " Hey, did you get number eight? "

    > Look up.

    > It's a pegasus. It's dark purple, mainly.

    " Yeah. ' Asparagus '. What did you get for eleven? "

    > He seems embarrased.

    > " I got ' proletariat '. That's just what my dad says, anyway. I'm not sure what it is.

    " Proletariat? I don't think that's it, comrade. "

    > " What did you just call me? "

    " Nothing. "

    > " Oh. Oh well. "

    > You and the other pony talk about tests and various things. You think for a moment that you've made a friend.

    > " Well, thanks for the answers, Anonymous. "

    > And he walks off to join a different group of friends. You feel that you should feel betrayed, but you just put your work away before anyone new can mooch.

    > And you return inside.