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(808) Four-Oh-Four (FR) (3)

By: Fagdude on Dec 30th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 19.06 KB | hits: 286 | expires: Never

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>Day Not Like It Used To Be. In Equestria.
>Your home is little more than a futon and tattered clothing.
>You can shower all you want
>But you'll never be clean again.
>She slimed you.
>It's the only way you can describe it
>And now a movie you liked as a kid is tarnished.
>Because of Fluttershy and her...
>Love Juices.
>You just sit in the shower now.
>The water on full blast.
>Pounding your flesh as you hold your head in between your knees.
>You had a friend back in grad school.
>He was a bit of a psycho, but he never would've let this happen.
>At least not to him.
>And you're not him.
>You're not even a man.
>You're a number.
>Eight-zero-eight.
>And she's wrapping her hooves over your shoulders.
>And she's running her tongue across the edge of your face.
>"Mmm..."
>You haven't eaten since a bad Holiday party.
>And you have work in four hours.
>You haven't slept.
>You don't have any other clothing.
>You can't dress for success.
>"Anonymous, kiss me."
>Please don't do that thing she does.
>She bites on your hair and your eyes water up at the stinging pain.
>You look back at her, shivering and shuddering, blearyeyed.
>She opens her mouth.
>You gaze into it.
>"A good -boyfriend- would initiate a kiss."
>You're better than this.
>She kicks you in the spine and you wince.
>No.
>You lean in and open your mouth.
>You're not.
>You're not a good kisser.
>You've kissed a girl. Once.
>Ever. And she was a human.
>And she was nice.
>Close your eyes, it'll all be over soon.
>You lean in for the kiss and you feel her hooves force your mouth into hers.
>Her tongue goes down your throat.
>You start to gag.
>You open your eyes.
>She's giving you the stare.
>You feel smaller.
>Weaker.
>Is that...even possible.
>Maybe...maybe she'll just keep it down there long enough.
>And you'll die.
>And wake up back home.
>She slides her tongue back into her own mouth.
>Before exiting the kiss, she bites your lower lip.
>She pulls it a little distance away from your face.
>She's grinning.
>Oh no.
>Please.
>She bites, just a little pinch.
>And pulls away quick.
>You put your hands over your lips.
>A little red spills on to the shower floor.
>"Those lips are for me only, mister. That's my signature."
>Time Turner was right--he's cool and popular, of course he was right.
>This mare is absolutely crazy.
>You're wearing the same clothes as the last two days in a row.
>You have the coffee, the doughnuts, the fritters.
>You arrive at the office at 6:30.
>Anything to just...get out of your home.
>You put everything in its proper place. Coffee in the Mayor's office.
>She isn't even here yet.
>Food in the breakroom.
>You sit at your desk and eat your icingless doughnut.
>And look at your word-a-day calendar.
>Vacuous.
>"Hey...Eight-zero-eight, you okay buddy?"
>It's Time Turner.
>You look at the clock on the wall.
>It's 7:15.
>"You...are just kind of...hugging yourself there, man?"
>You look at yourself.
>Your arms are wrapped around you in an embrace of much-needed support.
>"Gotta...lil something on your face too."
>You quickly stop hugging yourself and run your hands over your face.
>You wipe the tears that were falling...and a crumb from your lips.
>Please.
>PLEASE.
>Please let him mean the crumbs.
>"Uh...other eye too."
>At least he's not being a jerk.
>Wipe the other eye.
"I-I-I-i-i...uhm...hi."
>He looks around.
>"Hey. You sick or something?"
>Take a breath.
>Don't spaz out.
"I-I...I...am f-f-f-fine...j-just...uhm.."
>"Those the same clothes as yesterday? You know you've got a huge stain on your...everything."
>"Don't let Mayor Mare see it, she's sort of a freak when it comes to public images."
"...M-m-mister T-t-Turner...how come everybody h-hates me?"
>He stifles a laugh.
>It cuts you.
>"I don't think anyone here hates you."
>You look at your desk.
>"Maybe stand-up for yourself once in awhile?"
"B-b-but I'm t-trying..."
>"Well, the crackling voice doesn't help either."
"Oh..."
>You rub the back of your neck.
>"Eight-zero-eight, go tell the Mayor you need a personal day."
"Oh no, I couldn't...I have to have perfect attendance."
>"Eight-zero-eight, no-nopony cares. I mean, this isn't Canterlot or Manehattan."
>"You can take a day off and...do the laundry-"
>He mumbles "...maybe grow a pair--"
>"And just relax. What makes you relax?"
"I...used to think of Dungeon Mastering for some friends."
>He gives you a look.
>"--Whoa, buddy. I mean, I know it's always the quiet ones but I do not need to know about--"
>He looks at you again.
>"Oh. You mean like...not a--"
>He makes a bouncy hoof motion.
>"What's that, like a--Y'know, I don't really even care. Go do that. Just, get the day off, bud."
"...are w-we r-really buddies?"
>He sighs and bites his lip.
>He notices you noticed that.
>You noticed that he noticed that.
>You notice he was looking at your cut lip.
>"...Yeah. Sure. Just uh... why don't we keep that on the down low? So nopony has to know."
>You made a friend today.
>Maybe he'll let you crash on his couch if things get worse.
>You gather up your courage.
>It takes you until 9:00 to do that.
>Including two trips to the bathroom for a psych-up speech.
"Y-you're a-awesome. Y-you've got f-friends. You k-know advanced b-budgeting measures and z-zoning law.."
>You subconsciously chew on your lip.
>It hurts a lot.
>You make sure your hair is sort of neat.
>You run a hand over your scalp.
>It hurts from where she pulled it earlier.
>You try to clear your mind of all...bad...thoughts.
>And you barge into the Mayor's Office!
>...No.
>You walk to the door, knock three times.
>"Come in."
>You slowly open the door and peek in.
>"Eight-oh-eight, you got the coffee again. You don't have to do that everyday you know?"
>You do.
>Otherwise nopony will have any reason to talk to you.
"C-c-c-could I t-t-talk to y-y-you?"
>You take several sharp breaths.
>Mayor Mare looks at you like you're a few steps short of a seizure.
"I mean...can I talk to you sir?"
>You step into the room.
>She looks you over.
>She sips her coffee.
>"Eight-oh-eight, why're you dressed like that again?"
>You look down at your shoes and mumble.
>"I couldn't hear that."
"I'm...s-sorry sir..."
>She rolls her eyes.
"I...wan---nee--...uhm..."
>You swallow hard.
"D-do y-you have anything you n-need d-done outside the o-office today?"
>"You're not just trying to skip out on work are you? For shame!"
>She laughs.
>You cringe.
>"Anonymous, I was...I was joking."
>She smiles awkwardly.
>You've made a mess of things
>Again.
>"You need some fresh air, is that it?"
>You look around and expect to see Her.
>You're getting a little traumatized.
>Try to keep it together.
"Uhm...y-y--well m-m-may--"
>You just nod.
>Mayor Mare looks at you, a little concerned.
>"I've got Civil Employee Four-Oh-Four showing up to pick up census questionnaires, you can take those to her if you want. Maybe even help her out."
"Oh....y-yes p-please sir."
>Mayor Mare goes over to a file cabinet and pulls out a large black case file.
>She tosses it on her desk.
>"I cannot stress to you the importance of a census, Eight-zero-eight. We need accurate numbers."
>You nod.
>"You're a hard worker and I'm sure you'll do a good job."
>"And"
>"Not"
>"Let me down."
>You take the file.
>It's heavier than it looks.
"W-won't l-let you d-down sir."
>You begin to head out of the office.
>Time Turner gives you a head-nod.
>"Day off?"
"Oh...uhm...h-helping out F-f-four-oh-f-four."
>He shakes his head and laughs.
>"She's pretty fun. Just uh...don't spaz out."
"S-s-s-sp-spa--"
>"Yeah, just don't do that."
>You step outside.
>Heaving the heavy file.
>The crisp winter air of day.
>It's less repugnant and vacuous than the crisp winter air of night.
>That word-a-day calendar is paying for itself.
>Set the file down on the steps of the Town Hall.
>You straighten your tie.
>Try to ignore the huge red blotches on a good white shirt.
>You force a smile.
"T-t-today is g-g-gonna be a g-good d-d-day."
>You feel an immediate sense of dread upon saying that.
"Today...is going to be...a g-g-good day."
>You take a breath.
"P-p-please?"
>A large carrier's satchel drops down next to you.
THUD
>You look up and see a grey pony looking at you with buggy yellow eyes.
>She's got a bubbly little smile on her face.
>"Hullo."
>She's directly above you.
"...oh...h-h-h-hi."
>She swirls about and lands on the before you.
>"What'cha doin'?"
"Uhm...w-w-waiting for F-four-oh-f-four."
>She presses her hooves against her face and makes an overjoyed look.
>"Oh. Well that's me! That's great! That's great that you'd wait for me!"
>She smiles again.
>"I like you."
"Oh...t-t-thank you."
>"Who're you?"
"I'm...uhm... Eight-zero-eight."
>She gasps loudly.
>"That's double of four-oh-four!"
>You nod a little.
"...yeah it is."
>"That's so cooooool."
>She laughs a little.
>Then she serious's up.
>Or tries to. Her eyes keep going googly eyed.
>"Why're you waiting for me double-oh-four-oh-four?"
"Uhm...I'm supposed to take the census with you?"
>"Yay! It's so-so-so boring to do by yourself."
>She looks at the file.
>"Didya fill one out for yourself?"
"Oh...uhm, no not yet."
>"But it's fun!"
"I'll do one, yeah."
>"Your shirt smells like goof juice."
>Awkward. Moment.
>You let out a laugh.
>It's more awkward than you meant.
"I h-had a spill."
>She doesn't mind.
>"You fill one out for me, I'll fill one out for you; double-plus-four-oh-four."
>She splutters her tongue.
>"Because that's a mwyouthflul to say."
"What?"
>She makes a fart noise and picks up the file in her hooves.
"Oh, the..uhm...forms."
>She sits her butt on the stairs.
>She slicks her mangy yellow hair back with her wings, emulating Mayor Mare's hair as best she can.
>"ACKHCHEM...okay, so...what's your name?"
"Oh...uhm...Anonymous. A-n-o-n-y-m-o-u-s."
>She pulls a pencil from her carrier bag, puts it in her mouth, and scribbles it on the page.
>"Are you...or wait...Sorry. Sorry everypony!"
>She clears her throat.
>"Are you now, or have you ever been a Unicorn, Earth Pony, Pegasus Pony or Alicorn?"
"Uhm...none of the above."
>She looks at you and her eyes shift awkward positions and shrink.
>"Whoa...are you magic?"
"Oh, no. I'm...not."
>She checks something.
>"Earth pony it is! It's okay, some of my best friends are Earth Ponies."
>She looks down the list and mumbles and goes "blahblahblahblyblah".
>"Oooh! Are you married?"
"N-no."
>"Do you have any kids?"
"N-no..."
>"Are you...in..a...ta...ta..."
>She shows you the form.
>"What's that say?"
"Taxable union of any sort with which you need to declare within the coming fiscal quarter?"
>"Blegh. That's boring sounding."
"No, I'm...not anyway."
>"Checkarooski dooski, Mr. Anony-mooski."
>Your turn.
"Name?"
>"Derpy Hooves. No wait! Ditzy Doo...wait...uhm..."
"Oh. I have room for both t-t-they sound..."
>She's giving you a big smile.
>Don't say...insulting...
"B-b-b-bubbly."
>She laughs and slaps her flank.
>She then shakes it in your face.
>Bubbles for a cutie mark.
>Well, that's sort of funny.
"Pegasus pony?"
>She nods enthusiastically.
"Married?"
>She shakes her head in circles enthusiastically.
"Is that...a yes...or a...no?"
>She laughs.
"All right...a-any kids?"
>"I like Dinky."
"Is...t-t-t-that a daughter or...son?"
>"Oh, no. She's a lil'filly girl."
>You just check off daughter.
>You set the file back down on the steps.
"Well, Derpy; where should we go first?"
>She makes another sputtering fart noise with her tongue.
>"Oh, the Mayor Lady never reads those anyway."
>She loads the big file up in her carrier bag and flaps back up into the air.
>Awkwardly.
>But it's an endearing character trait you can appreciated.
>Ponies in town don't seem to appreciate being bothered.
>It doesn't help that you look so disheveled.
>Well, maybe just a mess.
>You probably need to be able to grow facial hair to look disheveled.
>And Derpy making jokes and talking about her life-
>--while entertaining and funny--
>Does sorta get in the way of proper census taking.
>"How come you look so sad, Anonymoose?"
>And here you thought you were keeping it together.
"The Mayor t-t-t-told me to not disappoint her...with them..uhm.."
>You trail off in mumbling.
>You try to straighten out your shirt and tie.
>They're stained and worn.
>You sigh.
>"I'm being super dooper serious when I say she doesn't read'em, double-plus-Anonymous."
>You try to think of something to say.
>You close your eyes.
>And take a breath.
"J'ai une âme solitaire...if I conjugated that right."
>Derpy swoons.
>"You speak FANCY! I thought only big city people spoke FANCY! Wait--"
>She tilts her head a little bit too much to the side.
>"...are you from Canterlot? Yeah! That's why you're magic-looking!"
"Uhm...w-w-well, it's something like that..."
>You attempt to take census until the mid-afternoon.
>All the while the topic of conversation being you.
>And while it makes you happy to see somebody take interest in you.
>You're still worried about how poor a job you're doing.
>And you're a little worried that you're starting not to care.
>You're being allowed to focus on yourself.
>That's g--no that's selfish.
>You're going to get yelled at by the Mayor for doing a poor job.
>"Do you want to get some muffins?"
>She says that in the middle of speaking to the couple who owns Sugarcube Corner.
"...How about we finish this up first?"
>You finish up taking as much census as Derpy deems necessary by 3:00 PM.
>She has a nice enough house.
>It's lived-in.
>It's a home.
>Maybe, at least recently, you just have a house.
>"Hope you like muffins, Moose."
>Well, you're now an animal.
>Rather than a number.
>That's a step up, but you're still not a man.
>She opens a cabinet and it's literally filled to the brim.
>With muffins of various shapes and colors.
>Individually wrapped with little freshness tags in them.
>You enjoy your lunch.
"H-hey...t-thanks."
>"Schnoprahblrum."
>She talks with her mouth full.
"I think I might go back around...r-redo the census."
>She swallows a load of bran muffin and blueberries.
>"Why?"
"..b-b-because Mayor Mare might get upset."
>"Why?"
"..because I'm b-b-bad at my job."
>"Why?"
"I'm...just..."
>Just enjoy the muffin.
"Y-y-y-you ever...uhm..."
>You take in the scent of the muffin.
"...b-b-been in a b-bad relationship?"
>You bite into the muffin.
>Stop talking.
>"I dunno, Double-plus-Moose."
"...she scares me...and I d-don't even know her."
>You take a breath.
>Let the anger out.
"She just...I...I..uhm..."
>Stop it now when someone is willing to listen.
"..m-maybe I just...don't know her well enough."
>Derpy slumps back in her seat and pops another muffin in her mouth.
>She just swallows it.
>"Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Communication is important, Moose."
>It really is.
>But you're just too scared to speak.
>And that's on you.
>You make the rounds back around town.
>Nopony is happy to see you again.
>J'ai une âme solitaire.
>But you're able to fill in most of the information by just looking at them.
>No need to ask them what they are.
>Visual indicators are sort of...obvious.
>It gets dark out early.
>You finish up another third of the file with corrected forms and new ones.
>You return to Town Hall.
>Nobody is around.
>Set the big file on your desk.
>Peel off the word-a-day calendar and sneak a peek at what tomorrow might bring.
>"Ugsome - Dreadful, loathsome."
>The good news is your word-a-day-calendar may be magical.
>Or topical and appropriate.
>The clock on the wall says it's only 5:35 PM.
>You can cut out early--which is still later than everyone else--without too much guilt.
>Maybe you'll go home and have a good night.
>And maybe if you comb your hair the sun won't come up.
>Maybes aren't useful.
>You do some extra work and leave at 6:00.
>You stop by Carousel Boutique.
>You need new clothes, and while it's a little late..
>Well, it's well past working hours.
>Maybe if you apologize she'll try something in the morning.
>You knock on the door.
>It magic's open.
>It's the purple unicorn.
>She's talking to the tailor...seamstress?
>You don't know the term.
>Her voice is like ice cream on a hot summer day.
>You can't pay attention to the words.
>Sort of like how she's not paying attention to where she's going.
>Oof.
>Ouch.
"..ow."
>You got hit with some books as well it seems.
>And you're on your back in the snow by the doorstep.
>She's on your chest.
>She gasps and looks down at you.
>You wheeze and try to smile up at her.
>You hope it doesn't come out too creepy.
>Or awkward.
"...h-h-hi there...f-fancy b-bumping into y-you."
>WHAT
>WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?
>Wait. No.
>Maybe she'll think it was cool.
>Suave.
>"Oh my gosh, I'm so-so-so-so Sorry!"
>She pops out of existence and reappears back in the doorway.
>You begin to get up.
>You start gathering up the books she dropped.
>She lifts you off the ground,
>Magic.
>It feels tingly.
>"I'm so sorry, I was just not paying attention and uhm...are you all right?"
>Play it cool.
"I'm...f-..I mean, yeah. Just a fall."
>You brush off your butt.
"These things happen."
>"Uhm...sorry, I'm kind of in a hurry."
>She levitates her books away from you and smiles.
>"Sorry!"
>She leaves.
>The White Unicorn sticks her head out of the doorframe and grins at you.
>"She's a busy body."
"I'll say."
>You cup a hand over your mouth.
"I meant that...in..t-t-t-the uhm....I need new clothing."
>She's got a big grin on her face.
>"Of course Darling, I still have an order you never picked up."
>Oh yeah.
>Scatterbrain.
>No wait.
>Positive thoughts.
>You saw Twilight...
>And Turner and 404 are your friends.
>See, not creepy torch-holding, positive thoughts.
>You go home with a few hangers of clothing over your shoulder.
>Maybe things are looking up for you.
>You unlock the door.
>You jiggle the handle.
>Stupid cold weather.
>Must've frozen the lock.
>You try it again.
>Nope.
>The creeping dread of your reality comes back.
>You knock on the door.
"F-f-flut...Fluttershy?"
>The door opens.
>She's there.
>She looks at your face.
>You had a smile.
>Hers grows in malice
>As yours shrinks in contemplation of future abuse.
>"Anonymous, you're late. AGAIN."
>She looks at what you're carrying.
"Please...Fluttershy t-t-t-those are f-for w-w-work..."
>"Why are you talking?"
>She sneers at you.
>You feel cold all over.
>She bites your tie and pulls you down to eye-level.
>"You're a disappointment, Anonymous."
>Grow a pair.
>You can feel the shivering in your spine.
>GROW A PAIR.
"..w-w-why's t-that?"
>She releases your tie and smirks.
>"You didn't apologize. And you didn't kiss me at the door!"
>This psychotic charade is wearing thin.
>Now is the time to strike!
>She turns her ass at you and lifts her tail.
>"N-now kiss these lips, mister."
>Something in your back tightens.
>Egads, a spine?
>You walk away.
>She pounces on you from behind.
>Your clothing falls into a snow bank.
>She slams your face into the cobblestone and black ice.
>"You're GOING TO LOVE ME, Anonymous. YOU JUST HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!"
>Your head hurts.
>You're getting dizzy.
>Maybe if you weren't so weak.
>Pathetic.
>Worthless.
>...man.
>Fluttershy's a jerk.

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>Day Not Like It Used To Be. In Equestria.
>Your home is little more than a futon and tattered clothing.
>You can shower all you want
>But you'll never be clean again.
>She slimed you.
>It's the only way you can describe it
>And now a movie you liked as a kid is tarnished.
>Because of Fluttershy and her...
>Love Juices.
>You just sit in the shower now.
>The water on full blast.
>Pounding your flesh as you hold your head in between your knees.
>You had a friend back in grad school.
>He was a bit of a psycho, but he never would've let this happen.
>At least not to him.
>And you're not him.
>You're not even a man.
>You're a number.
>Eight-zero-eight.
>And she's wrapping her hooves over your shoulders.
>And she's running her tongue across the edge of your face.
>"Mmm..."
>You haven't eaten since a bad Holiday party.
>And you have work in four hours.
>You haven't slept.
>You don't have any other clothing.
>You can't dress for success.
>"Anonymous, kiss me."
>Please don't do that thing she does.
>She bites on your hair and your eyes water up at the stinging pain.
>You look back at her, shivering and shuddering, blearyeyed.
>She opens her mouth.
>You gaze into it.
>"A good -boyfriend- would initiate a kiss."
>You're better than this.
>She kicks you in the spine and you wince.
>No.
>You lean in and open your mouth.
>You're not.

>You're not a good kisser.
>You've kissed a girl. Once.
>Ever. And she was a human.
>And she was nice.
>Close your eyes, it'll all be over soon.
>You lean in for the kiss and you feel her hooves force your mouth into hers.
>Her tongue goes down your throat.
>You start to gag.
>You open your eyes.
>She's giving you the stare.
>You feel smaller.
>Weaker.
>Is that...even possible.
>Maybe...maybe she'll just keep it down there long enough.
>And you'll die.
>And wake up back home.
>She slides her tongue back into her own mouth.
>Before exiting the kiss, she bites your lower lip.
>She pulls it a little distance away from your face.
>She's grinning.
>Oh no.
>Please.
>She bites, just a little pinch.
>And pulls away quick.
>You put your hands over your lips.
>A little red spills on to the shower floor.
>"Those lips are for me only, mister. That's my signature."
>Time Turner was right--he's cool and popular, of course he was right.
>This mare is absolutely crazy.

>You're wearing the same clothes as the last two days in a row.
>You have the coffee, the doughnuts, the fritters.
>You arrive at the office at 6:30.
>Anything to just...get out of your home.
>You put everything in its proper place. Coffee in the Mayor's office.
>She isn't even here yet.
>Food in the breakroom.
>You sit at your desk and eat your icingless doughnut.
>And look at your word-a-day calendar.
>Vacuous. 
>"Hey...Eight-zero-eight, you okay buddy?"
>It's Time Turner.
>You look at the clock on the wall.
>It's 7:15.
>"You...are just kind of...hugging yourself there, man?"
>You look at yourself.
>Your arms are wrapped around you in an embrace of much-needed support.
>"Gotta...lil something on your face too."
>You quickly stop hugging yourself and run your hands over your face.
>You wipe the tears that were falling...and a crumb from your lips.
>Please.
>PLEASE.
>Please let him mean the crumbs.
>"Uh...other eye too."
>At least he's not being a jerk.
>Wipe the other eye.
"I-I-I-i-i...uhm...hi."
>He looks around.
>"Hey. You sick or something?"
>Take a breath.
>Don't spaz out.
"I-I...I...am f-f-f-fine...j-just...uhm.."
>"Those the same clothes as yesterday? You know you've got a huge stain on your...everything."
>"Don't let Mayor Mare see it, she's sort of a freak when it comes to public images."
"...M-m-mister T-t-Turner...how come everybody h-hates me?"

>He stifles a laugh.
>It cuts you.
>"I don't think anyone here hates you."
>You look at your desk.
>"Maybe stand-up for yourself once in awhile?"
"B-b-but I'm t-trying..."
>"Well, the crackling voice doesn't help either."
"Oh..."
>You rub the back of your neck.
>"Eight-zero-eight, go tell the Mayor you need a personal day."
"Oh no, I couldn't...I have to have perfect attendance."
>"Eight-zero-eight, no-nopony cares. I mean, this isn't Canterlot or Manehattan."
>"You can take a day off and...do the laundry-"
>He mumbles "...maybe grow a pair--"
>"And just relax. What makes you relax?"
"I...used to think of Dungeon Mastering for some friends."
>He gives you a look.
>"--Whoa, buddy. I mean, I know it's always the quiet ones but I do not need to know about--"
>He looks at you again.
>"Oh. You mean like...not a--"
>He makes a bouncy hoof motion.
>"What's that, like a--Y'know, I don't really even care. Go do that. Just, get the day off, bud."
"...are w-we r-really buddies?"
>He sighs and bites his lip.
>He notices you noticed that.
>You noticed that he noticed that.
>You notice he was looking at your cut lip.
>"...Yeah. Sure. Just uh... why don't we keep that on the down low? So nopony has to know."
>You made a friend today.
>Maybe he'll let you crash on his couch if things get worse.

>You gather up your courage.
>It takes you until 9:00 to do that.
>Including two trips to the bathroom for a psych-up speech.
"Y-you're a-awesome. Y-you've got f-friends. You k-know advanced b-budgeting measures and z-zoning law.."
>You subconsciously chew on your lip.
>It hurts a lot.
>You make sure your hair is sort of neat.
>You run a hand over your scalp.
>It hurts from where she pulled it earlier.
>You try to clear your mind of all...bad...thoughts.
>And you barge into the Mayor's Office!
>...No.
>You walk to the door, knock three times.
>"Come in."
>You slowly open the door and peek in.
>"Eight-oh-eight, you got the coffee again. You don't have to do that everyday you know?"
>You do. 
>Otherwise nopony will have any reason to talk to you.
"C-c-c-could I t-t-talk to y-y-you?"
>You take several sharp breaths.
>Mayor Mare looks at you like you're a few steps short of a seizure.
"I mean...can I talk to you sir?"
>You step into the room.
>She looks you over.
>She sips her coffee.
>"Eight-oh-eight, why're you dressed like that again?"
>You look down at your shoes and mumble.
>"I couldn't hear that."
"I'm...s-sorry sir..."
>She rolls her eyes.
"I...wan---nee--...uhm..."
>You swallow hard.
"D-do y-you have anything you n-need d-done outside the o-office today?"

>"You're not just trying to skip out on work are you? For shame!"
>She laughs.
>You cringe.
>"Anonymous, I was...I was joking."
>She smiles awkwardly.
>You've made a mess of things
>Again.
>"You need some fresh air, is that it?"
>You look around and expect to see Her.
>You're getting a little traumatized.
>Try to keep it together.
"Uhm...y-y--well m-m-may--"
>You just nod.
>Mayor Mare looks at you, a little concerned.
>"I've got Civil Employee Four-Oh-Four showing up to pick up census questionnaires, you can take those to her if you want. Maybe even help her out."
"Oh....y-yes p-please sir."
>Mayor Mare goes over to a file cabinet and pulls out a large black case file.
>She tosses it on her desk.
>"I cannot stress to you the importance of a census, Eight-zero-eight. We need accurate numbers."
>You nod.
>"You're a hard worker and I'm sure you'll do a good job."
>"And" 
>"Not"
>"Let me down."
>You take the file. 
>It's heavier than it looks.
"W-won't l-let you d-down sir."
>You begin to head out of the office.
>Time Turner gives you a head-nod.
>"Day off?"
"Oh...uhm...h-helping out F-f-four-oh-f-four."
>He shakes his head and laughs.
>"She's pretty fun. Just uh...don't spaz out."
"S-s-s-sp-spa--"
>"Yeah, just don't do that."

>You step outside. 
>Heaving the heavy file.
>The crisp winter air of day.
>It's less repugnant and vacuous than the crisp winter air of night.
>That word-a-day calendar is paying for itself.
>Set the file down on the steps of the Town Hall.
>You straighten your tie.
>Try to ignore the huge red blotches on a good white shirt.
>You force a smile.
"T-t-today is g-g-gonna be a g-good d-d-day."
>You feel an immediate sense of dread upon saying that.
"Today...is going to be...a g-g-good day."
>You take a breath.
"P-p-please?"
>A large carrier's satchel drops down next to you.
THUD
>You look up and see a grey pony looking at you with buggy yellow eyes.
>She's got a bubbly little smile on her face.
>"Hullo."
>She's directly above you. 
"...oh...h-h-h-hi."
>She swirls about and lands on the before you.
>"What'cha doin'?"
"Uhm...w-w-waiting for F-four-oh-f-four."
>She presses her hooves against her face and makes an overjoyed look.
>"Oh. Well that's me! That's great! That's great that you'd wait for me!"
>She smiles again.
>"I like you."
"Oh...t-t-thank you."
>"Who're you?"
"I'm...uhm... Eight-zero-eight."
>She gasps loudly.
>"That's double of four-oh-four!"
>You nod a little.
"...yeah it is."
>"That's so cooooool."
>She laughs a little.
>Then she serious's up.
>Or tries to. Her eyes keep going googly eyed.
>"Why're you waiting for me double-oh-four-oh-four?"
"Uhm...I'm supposed to take the census with you?"
>"Yay! It's so-so-so boring to do by yourself."
>She looks at the file.
>"Didya fill one out for yourself?"

"Oh...uhm, no not yet."
>"But it's fun!"
"I'll do one, yeah."
>"Your shirt smells like goof juice."
>Awkward. Moment.
>You let out a laugh.
>It's more awkward than you meant.
"I h-had a spill."
>She doesn't mind.
>"You fill one out for me, I'll fill one out for you; double-plus-four-oh-four."
>She splutters her tongue.
>"Because that's a mwyouthflul to say."
"What?"
>She makes a fart noise and picks up the file in her hooves.
"Oh, the..uhm...forms."
>She sits her butt on the stairs.
>She slicks her mangy yellow hair back with her wings, emulating Mayor Mare's hair as best she can.
>"ACKHCHEM...okay, so...what's your name?"
"Oh...uhm...Anonymous. A-n-o-n-y-m-o-u-s."
>She pulls a pencil from her carrier bag, puts it in her mouth, and scribbles it on the page.
>"Are you...or wait...Sorry. Sorry everypony!"
>She clears her throat.
>"Are you now, or have you ever been a Unicorn, Earth Pony, Pegasus Pony or Alicorn?"
"Uhm...none of the above."
>She looks at you and her eyes shift awkward positions and shrink.
>"Whoa...are you magic?"
"Oh, no. I'm...not."
>She checks something.
>"Earth pony it is! It's okay, some of my best friends are Earth Ponies."
>She looks down the list and mumbles and goes "blahblahblahblyblah".
>"Oooh! Are you married?"
"N-no."
>"Do you have any kids?"
"N-no..."
>"Are you...in..a...ta...ta..."
>She shows you the form.
>"What's that say?"
"Taxable union of any sort with which you need to declare within the coming fiscal quarter?"
>"Blegh. That's boring sounding."
"No, I'm...not anyway."
>"Checkarooski dooski, Mr. Anony-mooski."

>Your turn.
"Name?"
>"Derpy Hooves. No wait! Ditzy Doo...wait...uhm..."
"Oh. I have room for both t-t-they sound..."
>She's giving you a big smile.
>Don't say...insulting...
"B-b-b-bubbly."
>She laughs and slaps her flank.
>She then shakes it in your face.
>Bubbles for a cutie mark.
>Well, that's sort of funny.
"Pegasus pony?"
>She nods enthusiastically.
"Married?"
>She shakes her head in circles enthusiastically.
"Is that...a yes...or a...no?"
>She laughs.
"All right...a-any kids?"
>"I like Dinky."
"Is...t-t-t-that a daughter or...son?"
>"Oh, no. She's a lil'filly girl."
>You just check off daughter. 
>You set the file back down on the steps.
"Well, Derpy; where should we go first?"
>She makes another sputtering fart noise with her tongue.
>"Oh, the Mayor Lady never reads those anyway."
>She loads the big file up in her carrier bag and flaps back up into the air.
>Awkwardly.
>But it's an endearing character trait you can appreciated.

>Ponies in town don't seem to appreciate being bothered.
>It doesn't help that you look so disheveled.
>Well, maybe just a mess.
>You probably need to be able to grow facial hair to look disheveled.
>And Derpy making jokes and talking about her life-
>--while entertaining and funny--
>Does sorta get in the way of proper census taking.
>"How come you look so sad, Anonymoose?"
>And here you thought you were keeping it together.
"The Mayor t-t-t-told me to not disappoint her...with them..uhm.."
>You trail off in mumbling.
>You try to straighten out your shirt and tie.
>They're stained and worn.
>You sigh.
>"I'm being super dooper serious when I say she doesn't read'em, double-plus-Anonymous."
>You try to think of something to say.
>You close your eyes.
>And take a breath.
"J'ai une âme solitaire...if I conjugated that right."
>Derpy swoons.
>"You speak FANCY! I thought only big city people spoke FANCY! Wait--"
>She tilts her head a little bit too much to the side.
>"...are you from Canterlot? Yeah! That's why you're magic-looking!"
"Uhm...w-w-well, it's something like that..."
>You attempt to take census until the mid-afternoon.
>All the while the topic of conversation being you.
>And while it makes you happy to see somebody take interest in you.
>You're still worried about how poor a job you're doing.
>And you're a little worried that you're starting not to care.
>You're being allowed to focus on yourself.
>That's g--no that's selfish.
>You're going to get yelled at by the Mayor for doing a poor job.
>"Do you want to get some muffins?"
>She says that in the middle of speaking to the couple who owns Sugarcube Corner.
"...How about we finish this up first?"

>You finish up taking as much census as Derpy deems necessary by 3:00 PM.
>She has a nice enough house.
>It's lived-in.
>It's a home.
>Maybe, at least recently, you just have a house.
>"Hope you like muffins, Moose."
>Well, you're now an animal.
>Rather than a number.
>That's a step up, but you're still not a man.
>She opens a cabinet and it's literally filled to the brim.
>With muffins of various shapes and colors.
>Individually wrapped with little freshness tags in them.
>You enjoy your lunch.
"H-hey...t-thanks."
>"Schnoprahblrum."
>She talks with her mouth full.
"I think I might go back around...r-redo the census."
>She swallows a load of bran muffin and blueberries.
>"Why?"
"..b-b-because Mayor Mare might get upset."
>"Why?"
"..because I'm b-b-bad at my job."
>"Why?"
"I'm...just..."
>Just enjoy the muffin.
"Y-y-y-you ever...uhm..."
>You take in the scent of the muffin.
"...b-b-been in a b-bad relationship?"
>You bite into the muffin.
>Stop talking.
>"I dunno, Double-plus-Moose."
"...she scares me...and I d-don't even know her."
>You take a breath.
>Let the anger out.
"She just...I...I..uhm..."
>Stop it now when someone is willing to listen.
"..m-maybe I just...don't know her well enough."
>Derpy slumps back in her seat and pops another muffin in her mouth.
>She just swallows it.
>"Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Communication is important, Moose."
>It really is.
>But you're just too scared to speak.
>And that's on you.

>You make the rounds back around town.
>Nopony is happy to see you again.
>J'ai une âme solitaire.
>But you're able to fill in most of the information by just looking at them.
>No need to ask them what they are.
>Visual indicators are sort of...obvious.
>It gets dark out early.
>You finish up another third of the file with corrected forms and new ones.
>You return to Town Hall.
>Nobody is around.
>Set the big file on your desk.
>Peel off the word-a-day calendar and sneak a peek at what tomorrow might bring.
>"Ugsome - Dreadful, loathsome."
>The good news is your word-a-day-calendar may be magical.
>Or topical and appropriate.
>The clock on the wall says it's only 5:35 PM.
>You can cut out early--which is still later than everyone else--without too much guilt.
>Maybe you'll go home and have a good night.
>And maybe if you comb your hair the sun won't come up.
>Maybes aren't useful.
>You do some extra work and leave at 6:00.
>You stop by Carousel Boutique.
>You need new clothes, and while it's a little late..
>Well, it's well past working hours.
>Maybe if you apologize she'll try something in the morning.
>You knock on the door.
>It magic's open.
>It's the purple unicorn.
>She's talking to the tailor...seamstress? 
>You don't know the term.
>Her voice is like ice cream on a hot summer day.
>You can't pay attention to the words.
>Sort of like how she's not paying attention to where she's going.

>Oof.
>Ouch.
"..ow."
>You got hit with some books as well it seems.
>And you're on your back in the snow by the doorstep.
>She's on your chest.
>She gasps and looks down at you.
>You wheeze and try to smile up at her.
>You hope it doesn't come out too creepy.
>Or awkward.
"...h-h-hi there...f-fancy b-bumping into y-you."
>WHAT
>WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?
>Wait. No.
>Maybe she'll think it was cool.
>Suave.
>"Oh my gosh, I'm so-so-so-so Sorry!"
>She pops out of existence and reappears back in the doorway.
>You begin to get up.
>You start gathering up the books she dropped.
>She lifts you off the ground,
>Magic.
>It feels tingly.
>"I'm so sorry, I was just not paying attention and uhm...are you all right?"
>Play it cool.
"I'm...f-..I mean, yeah. Just a fall."
>You brush off your butt.
"These things happen."
>"Uhm...sorry, I'm kind of in a hurry."
>She levitates her books away from you and smiles.
>"Sorry!"
>She leaves.
>The White Unicorn sticks her head out of the doorframe and grins at you.
>"She's a busy body."
"I'll say."
>You cup a hand over your mouth.
"I meant that...in..t-t-t-the uhm....I need new clothing."
>She's got a big grin on her face.
>"Of course Darling, I still have an order you never picked up."
>Oh yeah. 
>Scatterbrain.
>No wait.
>Positive thoughts.
>You saw Twilight...
>And Turner and 404 are your friends.
>See, not creepy torch-holding, positive thoughts.

>You go home with a few hangers of clothing over your shoulder.
>Maybe things are looking up for you.
>You unlock the door.
>You jiggle the handle.
>Stupid cold weather.
>Must've frozen the lock.
>You try it again.
>Nope.
>The creeping dread of your reality comes back.
>You knock on the door.
"F-f-flut...Fluttershy?"
>The door opens.
>She's there.
>She looks at your face.
>You had a smile.
>Hers grows in malice
>As yours shrinks in contemplation of future abuse.
>"Anonymous, you're late. AGAIN."
>She looks at what you're carrying.
"Please...Fluttershy t-t-t-those are f-for w-w-work..."
>"Why are you talking?"
>She sneers at you.
>You feel cold all over.
>She bites your tie and pulls you down to eye-level.
>"You're a disappointment, Anonymous."
>Grow a pair.
>You can feel the shivering in your spine.
>GROW A PAIR.
"..w-w-why's t-that?"
>She releases your tie and smirks.
>"You didn't apologize. And you didn't kiss me at the door!"
>This psychotic charade is wearing thin.
>Now is the time to strike!
>She turns her ass at you and lifts her tail.
>"N-now kiss these lips, mister."
>Something in your back tightens.
>Egads, a spine?
>You walk away.
>She pounces on you from behind.
>Your clothing falls into a snow bank.
>She slams your face into the cobblestone and black ice.
>"You're GOING TO LOVE ME, Anonymous. YOU JUST HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!"
>Your head hurts.
>You're getting dizzy.
>Maybe if you weren't so weak.
>Pathetic.
>Worthless.
>...man.
>Fluttershy's a jerk.

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