Title:           [FR] Sick day
Author:          Stickki
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/f3akmvLu
First Edit:      Sunday 15th of May 2016 05:06:59 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Sunday 15th of May 2016 05:06:59 AM CDT

>You feel sick.
>Too sick.
>Fuck, and today you were gonna do absolutely nothing.
>Now your sickness fucked up that schedule.
>You stare at the ceiling, thinking of what you were going to do today.
>Oh yeah, nothing.
>And still, all you do is nothing.
>Nothing at all.
 
>Oh shit.
>You forgot about the little yellow devil.
>You quickly turn your head towards your alarm clock.
>1:00, it says.
>Oh, that's good, it's only nine minutes before she gets here.
>You lay all for what seemed like forever, thinking on what she would do if she realized you were so vulnerable.
>Wait.
>It even took you that long to realize you're too vulnerable.
>You must strive to keep your pony virginity, as your father said.
>Oh, you remember your father so well.
>He used to say things like: "I wish you were dead" and "I am dissapointed in raising you."
>Such a nice guy.
>Without noticing, you let thoughts of your father pass you by, while the clock is still ticking.
>You hear a faint knock downstairs, setting your train of thought into motion.
>Promptly say...
"Oh fuck! She's here!"
>You quickly scramble off your bed, and thump down on the floor.
>The pain you are experiencing is washed away by fear of her rape.
>The knocks downstairs are progressingly getting louder by the second.
>Grabbing hold of a nearby bed post, you slowly edge towards your closet.
 
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>You slide slowly, but freely towards some type of exit.
>Although, you didn't think of a route.
>You realize you're laying on the ground, shuffling like an idiot.
>The knocks are becoming inhuman, but the way you see Applejack back in the farm makes you question how the door isn't busted down.
>*CRRACCKK*
>You were wrong... Or were you right?
>It's not the time to be questioning things.
>You hear hoofsteps coming from the kitchen below you.
>It sounds like she's treating herself to something in there...
>Oh shit, It can't be that new KFC you were saving from your homeland!
>You muster the strength to walk again.
>Pushing yourself off the ground, you propel yourself faster than ever before.
>You grab ahold of your staircase railing, sliding down the whole way.
>Upon reaching the end of the rail, you scream:
"HEY NIGGA WHAT YOU DOIN WITH MY CHICKEN!?!"
>You look in the kitchen to find a gray pony with crossed yellow eyes stare back at you, with a letter in her mouth and a muffin in her hoof.
>You give her a frown.
>She gives you a letter.
>And she flies off with your muffin.
>Fucking mailponies.
 
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