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Day 2

By: churchwarden on Mar 12th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 7.42 KB | hits: 368 | expires: Never

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Day 2
>Wake up
>No dreams
>Feeling genuinely like P. Diddy
>Stand up
>Regret sleeping on too-short couch
>Look around for kitchen, find it, then proceed to mumble obscenities while trying to find bacon
>Spike enters, asks what you’re looking for
>Bacon
>”Like from animals?”
>”Duh”
>”Ponies are vegetarians. They eat flowers and stuff.”
>Facepalm
>Common sense: 1 , Anon: 0
>Salad it is then...
>”So what are you going to do today anon?” Spike says as he sits down with a bowl of cereal.
>You’ve seen the town, from Sweet Apple Acres to Sugarcube Corner and every place in between, but can’t decide on what to do.
>”I dunno. Maybe take a shower and walk around town. Speaking of which, where is the shower?”
>”Up the stairs and on the left.”
>”Thanks Spike.”
>”Uh, Anon?”
>”Yeah?”
>”You said you’re a soldier right?”
>”That’s me, little buddy.”
>”Did you ever have kill anyone?”
> No longer feeling like P. Diddy
>” I only killed to protect innocent people.”
>”Oh, ok.”
>Spike goes back to eating his breakfast of what you now notice to be gemstones while you climb the stairs to shower.
>You mumble under your breath, “If only that were true...”
Needless to say, the shower is far smaller than you hoped.
>Though you have to stoop to wash your hair, you manage nicely.
>The sunshine and smiles feeling you had deflated the instant Spike asked you that question.
>”Did you ever have to kill anyone?”
>Why did it deflate you so much?
>That you lied, or that you felt like you had to?
>Spike wouldn’t understand; he’s too young to.
>You doubt any of the other ponies would be able to relate either
> Funny.
>It’s just like home.
>Your soul-searching is interrupted with a knock at the door
>”Twilight says not to use all the hot water in there anon!” Spike calls through the door.
>You hurry up and finish, and decide to be less of soul-sucking downer than this morning made you feel
>Unfortunately, most of the ponies you hung out with yesterday have day jobs and Twilight is still researching ceaselessly in the library, so you’re left mostly to your own devices.
>Most of the ponies in town find you an oddity, but few of them actually try to talk to you.
>Most seem extremely nervous, which is understandable, considering you’re a hairless bipedal ape which no one even imagined existed.
>You sit down on a park bench, a little worn out after walking through town all day.
>You hear voices behind you
>”Is that it?”
>”What is it?”
>”I wonder if it has a cutie mark too?”
>Cutie mark?
>“You’re wondering if I’ve got a what?” You say as you face the source of the noise.
>Three small fillies, One an orange pegasis, one a yellow “regular” pony, and a white unicorn all “eeep!” in unison.
>Seemingly stunned, they don’t respond.
>You walk around the bench in front of them, and sit down in front of them.
>”I’m not gonna hurt you, little girls, but what’s a cutie mark?”
>A little bit reassured, the yellow one pipes up, “It’s the mark on your flank that shows what you’re best at! D’you got one?”
>They all stare at you intently, expecting some reality shattering epiphany.
> “Not really, but I’ve got something like it.”
>Smiles widen on their faces as you roll up your sleeve to display your tattoo: the regimental insignia of special forces.
>The orange one cocks her head to the side and asks, “What do those funny words mean?”
>”It means, ‘To liberate the oppressed.’”
>They “oooh” at this turn of events.
>”How’d you get THAT?”
>You regale them with tales of the special forces history, how they freed the oppressed, brought down tyrants, and that you are one of them.
>”That’s what we’ll be! Cutie Mark Commando’s!” The orange one exclaims.
>You laugh out loud at this
>OhGodMahDrills.jpg
> When you manage to stop, they all look crestfallen.
>”We’re never gonna get our cutie marks...”
>”We’ll be blank flanks forever...”
>Seeing your mistake, you say, “Listen girls, you’ll find what you’re good at one day, and something tells it won’t be being a soldier. Who knows? Maybe you (you point at the pegasis) will be an astronaut? Maybe you’ll (you point to the “regular” pony) be a famous actress. And who knows? Maybe this little unicorn will grow up and put Twilight’s magic to shame?
>Smiling again, they chime, “Thanks mister!”
>You catch their names before they dash off, happily chatting amongst themselves about what they’re going to be when they grow up.
>You guess this world isn’t that much different than yours
>On your way back to Twilight’s house
>Dark out now, having a hard time finding your way back
> Spot cyan pony with rainbow mane
>”Hey, Rainbow.”
>”Hey Anon. What you doing out so late?”
>”Just trying to find my way back to Twilight’s to hit the sack.”
>”Buck that, lets get sloshed!”
>Having not tasted alcohol in any of its glorious forms for over a year you jump at the thought. One thought stops you though.
>”I don’t have any money, Dash”
>”Pshhh, I got ya tonight. Can’t let a little thing like money stop the fun!”
>Ilikewherethisgoing.jpg
>Walk in the bar
>Practically everyone turns to stare at you and Dash, but mostly you.
>Walk to up to the bartender
>He looks up at you with a little surprise, but that seems to be the standard fare around here
>Dash pipes up, “You gonna stare all day at Anon or are ya going to get us some booze?”
>Realizing his job, the bartender asks for your drinks
>A beer for you and a line of shots for dash
>”Just a beer? Come on, Anon, we need to get schlammered!”
>Challenge accepted
>Ever since a buddy told you about it, you’ve been meaning to try this drink
>”Line me up a Flaming Dr. Pepper
>After explaining what it is and how to make it, the bartender lines it up in front of you
>holy shit it DOES taste like Dr. Pepper!
>After 5 flaming Dr. Peppers and a shitload of beer you totally and irrevocably drunk
>Dash and you are guffawing loudly at each other and have become instant bros
>”Naw Dasshhh, you the besht.”
>”No Anon yer da besht”
>She tries to stand up, but misjudges the distance and falls flat on her face
>dawhahahahaha
>”Dash yer too drunk to shtand. I needsh to takesh you home.
>Stand up, wobble, but manage to remain upright
>Try three times to pick her up, nearly fall over every time
>Finally manage to sling her over your shoulder and wobble towards the door
>”Twilight hatesh it when I come around drunksh, Anon. Sheesh shuch a bitsh.”
>You don’t hear her, you’re too busy trying to open the door
>Fukkin’ doorknobs. How do they work?
>You manage to get the door open and stumble into the street, only vaguely knowing where you’re going
>Dash keeps mumbling about how Twilight hates it when she gets drunk
>”You’re not drunksh Dashhh... Yer Shloshed, remember?”
>You both laugh at this as you stumble towards the only house with lights still on at the top of the hill
>You don’t know if it’s Twilight’s place, but hey, no fucks given
>Try to open the door.
>It’s locked
>Your booze-addled mind concocts a brilliant plan
>”Hey Dash watchsh dish!”
>Not realizing she’s still slung over your shoulder, you give the door a well placed kick at the lock like you always were trained to do.
>You slip in the dew-slicked grass, land flat on your back, and promptly pass out.

create a new version of this paste RAW Paste Data

Day 2 
>Wake up
>No dreams
>Feeling genuinely like P. Diddy
>Stand up
>Regret sleeping on too-short couch
>Look around for kitchen, find it, then proceed to mumble obscenities while trying to find bacon
>Spike enters, asks what you’re looking for
>Bacon
>”Like from animals?”
>”Duh”
>”Ponies are vegetarians. They eat flowers and stuff.”
>Facepalm
>Common sense: 1 , Anon: 0
>Salad it is then...
>”So what are you going to do today anon?” Spike says as he sits down with a bowl of cereal.
>You’ve seen the town, from Sweet Apple Acres to Sugarcube Corner and every place in between, but can’t decide on what to do.
>”I dunno. Maybe take a shower and walk around town. Speaking of which, where is the shower?”
>”Up the stairs and on the left.”
>”Thanks Spike.”
>”Uh, Anon?”
>”Yeah?”
>”You said you’re a soldier right?”
>”That’s me, little buddy.”
>”Did you ever have kill anyone?”
> No longer feeling like P. Diddy 
>” I only killed to protect innocent people.”
>”Oh, ok.”
>Spike goes back to eating his breakfast of what you now notice to be gemstones while you climb the stairs to shower.
>You mumble under your breath, “If only that were true...”

Needless to say, the shower is far smaller than you hoped.
>Though you have to stoop to wash your hair, you manage nicely.
>The sunshine and smiles feeling you had deflated the instant Spike asked you that question.
>”Did you ever have to kill anyone?”
>Why did it deflate you so much?
>That you lied, or that you felt like you had to?
>Spike wouldn’t understand; he’s too young to.
>You doubt any of the other ponies would be able to relate either
> Funny. 
>It’s just like home.
>Your soul-searching  is interrupted with a knock at the door
>”Twilight says not to use all the hot water in there anon!” Spike calls through the door.
>You hurry up and finish, and decide to be less of soul-sucking downer than this morning made you feel

>Unfortunately, most of the ponies you hung out with yesterday have day jobs and Twilight is still researching ceaselessly in the library, so you’re left mostly to your own devices. 
>Most of the ponies in town find you an oddity, but few of them actually try to talk to you.
>Most seem extremely nervous, which is understandable, considering you’re a hairless bipedal ape which no one even imagined existed. 
>You sit down on a park bench, a little worn out after walking through town all day. 
>You hear voices behind you
>”Is that it?”
>”What is it?”
>”I wonder if it has a cutie mark too?”
>Cutie mark?
>“You’re wondering if I’ve got a what?” You say as you face the source of the noise.
>Three small fillies, One an orange pegasis, one a yellow “regular” pony, and a white unicorn all “eeep!” in unison.
>Seemingly stunned, they don’t respond.
>You walk around the bench in front of them, and sit down in front of them.
>”I’m not gonna hurt you, little girls, but what’s a cutie mark?”
>A little bit reassured, the yellow one pipes up, “It’s the mark on your flank that shows what you’re best at! D’you got one?”
>They all stare at you intently, expecting some reality shattering epiphany.
> “Not really, but I’ve got something like it.”
>Smiles widen on their faces as you roll up your sleeve to display your tattoo: the regimental insignia of special forces.
>The orange one cocks her head to the side and asks, “What do those funny words mean?”
>”It means, ‘To liberate the oppressed.’”
>They “oooh” at this turn of events.
>”How’d you get THAT?”
>You regale them with tales of the special forces history,  how they freed the oppressed, brought down tyrants, and that you are one of them.
>”That’s what we’ll be! Cutie Mark Commando’s!” The orange one exclaims.
>You laugh out loud at this
>OhGodMahDrills.jpg
> When you manage to stop, they all look crestfallen.
>”We’re never gonna get our cutie marks...”
>”We’ll be blank flanks forever...”
>Seeing your mistake, you say, “Listen girls, you’ll find what you’re good at one day, and something tells it won’t be being a soldier. Who knows? Maybe you (you point at the pegasis) will be an astronaut? Maybe you’ll (you point to the “regular” pony) be a famous actress. And who knows? Maybe this little unicorn will grow up and put Twilight’s magic to shame?
>Smiling again, they chime, “Thanks mister!”
>You catch their names before they dash off, happily chatting amongst themselves about what they’re going to be when they grow up.
>You guess this world isn’t that much different than yours

>On your way back to Twilight’s house
>Dark out now, having a hard time finding your way back
> Spot cyan pony with rainbow mane
>”Hey, Rainbow.”
>”Hey Anon. What you doing out so late?”
>”Just trying to find my way back to Twilight’s to hit the sack.”
>”Buck that, lets get sloshed!”
>Having not tasted alcohol in any of its glorious forms for over a year you jump at the thought. One thought stops you though.
>”I don’t have any money, Dash”
>”Pshhh, I got ya tonight. Can’t let a little thing like money stop the fun!”
>Ilikewherethisgoing.jpg
>Walk in the bar
>Practically everyone turns to stare at you and Dash, but mostly you.
>Walk to up to the bartender
>He looks up at you with a little surprise, but that seems to be the standard fare around here
>Dash pipes up, “You gonna stare all day at Anon or are ya going to get us some booze?”
>Realizing his job, the bartender asks for your drinks
>A beer for you and a line of shots for dash
>”Just a beer? Come on, Anon, we need to get schlammered!”
>Challenge accepted
>Ever since a buddy told you about it, you’ve been meaning to try this drink
>”Line me up a Flaming Dr. Pepper
>After explaining what it is and how to make it, the bartender lines it up in front of you
>holy shit it DOES taste like Dr. Pepper!
>After 5 flaming Dr. Peppers and a shitload of beer you totally and irrevocably drunk
>Dash and you are guffawing loudly at each other and have become instant bros
>”Naw Dasshhh, you the besht.”
>”No Anon yer da besht”
>She tries to stand up, but misjudges the distance and falls flat on her face
>dawhahahahaha
>”Dash yer too drunk to shtand. I needsh to takesh you home.
>Stand up, wobble, but manage to remain upright
>Try three times to pick her up, nearly fall over every time
>Finally manage to sling her over your shoulder and wobble towards the door
>”Twilight hatesh it when I come around drunksh, Anon. Sheesh shuch a bitsh.”
>You don’t hear her, you’re too busy trying to open the door 
>Fukkin’ doorknobs. How do they work?
>You manage to get the door open and stumble into the street, only vaguely knowing where you’re going
>Dash keeps mumbling about how Twilight hates it when she gets drunk
>”You’re not drunksh Dashhh... Yer Shloshed, remember?”
>You both laugh at this as you stumble towards the only house with lights still on at the top of the hill
>You don’t know if it’s Twilight’s place, but hey, no fucks given
>Try to open the door.
>It’s locked
>Your booze-addled mind concocts a brilliant plan
>”Hey Dash watchsh dish!”
>Not realizing she’s still slung over your shoulder, you give the door a well placed kick at the lock like you always were trained to do.
>You slip in the dew-slicked grass, land flat on your back, and promptly pass out.

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