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A WIZARD DID IT - 1 (too short to split, but I need sleep)

By: dashisbestpone on Apr 16th, 2013 | syntax: None | size: 6.65 KB | hits: 79 | expires: Never

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>Day OHGODTHISISABADIDEA in Equestria
>Through a series of terrible deals, you've wound up with a duty you are WHOLLY unsuited for. Today, you must babysit (foalsit?) Sweetie Belle. Her little friends are both out of town, and her Rarity is a conniving bitch.
>Hopefully some spaghetti makes everything better.
>You just have to finish peeing here first and then-
>*CRASH*
>...of course.
>ALL she had to do was boil some water.
>All YOU had to do was go piss and come right back.
>Somehow in those thirty seconds, she fucked it up.
>You swear, she's got a legitimate learning disability or something. There's... kids aren't THAT dumb, right? That's not normal?
>Distracted by panicked thoughts of the damage that might already be done, you hurriedly zip up and-
>SON OF SIX-AND-A-HALF-ASSES, that HURTS!
>What the fuck do they make zippers out of here? This is the eighth time this has happened, and it never ceases to surprise you how much of a deathtrap these things are.
>Wincing, you stumble down the hall and into the kitchen.
>You find Sweetie on the floor, covered in a thin coating of some sort of slime. Kitchenware is strewn haphazardly about the floor.
>She looks up at you and sniffles.
>She may be as sharp as a sack of wet mice, but it's pretty hard to be mad at something that adorable.
>You sigh softly, smile gently, and run your hand through her mane.
>"You okay?"
>She nods and sniffles again.
>"Can you tell me what happened?"
>She bites her lip for a moment.
>"Promise you won't get mad?"
>That... might be a bad idea.
>You glance around the kitchen again.
>Nothing's outright BROKEN...
>...
>"Sure."
>She blinks and breaks eye contact.
>"I put the noodles in the water," she mumbles toward the floor.
>Oh. Well shit, that's not so bad. The water was boiling or almost boiling (or not, she is pretty thick) and she tried to be helpful by taking the next step. Obviously she had an accident and everything went clattering to the floor.
>Yeah, stool she probably stood on over there...
>Puddles of water there and there...
>...but where are the noodles?
>"Sweetie..."
>She looks back up at you, eyes quivering.
>"Remember, you promised you wouldn't get mad."
>You breathe in, and out.
>"I know."
>She turns her gaze over toward the open window.
>"The noodles ran away."
>You chuckle a bit.
>Okay, so the physics of launching the water THIS way and the noodles THAT way are a bit inscrutable, but hey, that's pretty innocuous!
>You lean out the window and look around outside.
>"I don't see them."
>A tugging sensation pulls on one of the legs of your pants and you spin back around.
>"They're not there. They ran away."
>"What, uh, what exactly do you mean?"
>Her brow furrows and her cheeks flush.
>"Exactly what I said!" she squeaks. "They ran away!"
>"Sweetie, listen, noodles don't do things on their own. They can only do what you make them do. Understand?"
>Gee, what's this awkward silence and feeling of impending doom doing here? You swear you left one of those things with Fluttershy and the other with Pinkie Pie.
>A scream rips through the air.
>You turn and see Cheerilee staring at you.
>Y'know, next to a slightly sticky Sweetie Belle.
>Telling her about the nature of noodles.
>A quick glance down tells you you're still partially caught in your zipper and were only unaware because the intense, soul-consuming suffering localized to your genitals numbed your nethers to any sensation but white-hot pain.
>So, that happened.
>The next two minutes are dead-quiet and seem to stretch far beyond eternity's grasp.
>And then Cheerilee BOLTS. Probably in the direction of the police.
>You immediately break into a sprint, chasing instintively after her, not entirely sure what to do but 110% convinced you don't want to go to jail for molesting children.
>You make it out the door before you hear another scream, rounding the corner just in time to crash crotch-first into Cheerilee's face as she runs back the way she came.
>You fall over backwards, and she falls into you.
>You almost manage to form a complete thought before you notice what just scared the shit out your would-be accuser.
>There's a giant heap of spaghetti noodles.
>Wobbling down the road.
>Alternating between dull squelching noises and low moans.
>It's also pulsing faintly. Like a heartbeat.
>And glowing. Don't forget the glowing. It's a little hard to make out in the bright, midday sun, but it's definitely glowing.
>Cheerilee's head whips back and forth between you and the noodles before she realizes where her mouth is and the state of your pants.
>She jerks back a foot or two, then blinks at you.
>"You... noodles? Cooking. Sweetie?"
>You nod.
>"Why pants?"
>The language processing center of her brain comes back online just after that and she rockets off into a string of sentences that probably have meaning.
>Unfortunately, YOUR brain is still stalled out and can't quite keep up.
>You just nod a bunch more.
>"Well that settles it, then! I'll see you at the lake, 'kay?"
>"Wait, what?" you ask, but it's too late. She's already gone.
>You stumble back toward the Carousel Boutique, adjusting your pants along the way.
>As you step inside, Sweetie rushes over to you.
>"I told you! I promise not to try to cook anything without supervision again, but I want grownups to listen to me! I think I even know what went wrong!"
>"Really? You think you know how some pasta became animated and presumably sentient?"
>She nods. "Mhm! I put the noodles in, and then I turned up the temperature because the water wasn't boiling yet and I thought that making the stove hotter would make the water get hotter faster, but I couldn't reach the temperature dial so I tried to ṷ͇̕s̰̭̝̯̙͚ḛ̙͔͈̦̭ͅ ̶̬͓͚͓͓m͎͎̙͠y ͉̲̰m͏̖̠̠̳̫a͇̺̥͔̩g̖̲̯̗i̤̩̲̠͘c̙.͚͇̟̮̯͖͡ ̛͉̻͕͇̹ ҉̖B̶̜̜͔̪͓͎̗u̠͚͍͈͚̙t͇̺͡ ͉͠I̦̖̼'̝͔̠m̩̻̻̻̩̱̕ ̝̲̺͈̝n̪͘oṱ̴̪͎͉̥͎ ̢̫͉͚̹̠ͅͅv̬er̴͖y ̲͖̰g̗̜o̧o̩̤d͍̹̙̜̺ ̥̲̯ͅwi̛͉̮͎͔̰̰t̵̞̟̝h͎̠͇̫͍̱̠͞ ̵̦̺̩̺̰m̨͍͚͉̼͉̦̝a̩̹̤̩̦͙g̣̩i̩̜̭̲c̣, ̣̯̳so͕̭ ͉̦̻̠͉i̟̰̠̩ṉ̢̯̙̲̗͕̫s̵t̟͓e̞̳̤̣̯̕a̩̼͓͡d͎̰ ̪͕̫͔͓͢o̻̪̮̳̞̥͚f̙̖̻ ͏̹̗ͅt͏̜̪͖u̴̮͈̻͕̰̣̘r̠͓͟ͅni̩̬̗͕̠̯n̦̮̮̥͈̟̭g͍̘̳̣ ̪͔̠̩̪͍͕͠t̹̻̩̳̭̬ẖ̬͙̼̻͞e͚̠͙̪ ̻̪̱̲̲̞̠k̞͈̞̺̤̺ͅn̫̻ͅo̢̘͙̙̬b̛͕,̡͖̻̫ ̙̝̟͓̝I̭̖̻͎̙͕͜ ͟d͏͉̳͍͍̗i̵d̞͓̱̤̤͠ ̖͚̭͉s͜o̴͍̖m̧e͔͎̥̫͔t̺̪̥̯h͉͖̞i͏̤̰̻̼̘̗̪ng̳̹̜̭̱͚͍͘ ̮̰̞͖͝e҉͎̩l̰͖̼̳͘s͏̣e͍͖̙̬.͔̠́
It was an accident, though!"

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>Day OHGODTHISISABADIDEA in Equestria
>Through a series of terrible deals, you've wound up with a duty you are WHOLLY unsuited for.  Today, you must babysit (foalsit?) Sweetie Belle.  Her little friends are both out of town, and her Rarity is a conniving bitch.
>Hopefully some spaghetti makes everything better.
>You just have to finish peeing here first and then-

>*CRASH*

>...of course.
>ALL she had to do was boil some water.
>All YOU had to do was go piss and come right back.
>Somehow in those thirty seconds, she fucked it up.
>You swear, she's got a legitimate learning disability or something.  There's... kids aren't THAT dumb, right?  That's not normal?
>Distracted by panicked thoughts of the damage that might already be done, you hurriedly zip up and-

>SON OF SIX-AND-A-HALF-ASSES, that HURTS!
>What the fuck do they make zippers out of here?  This is the eighth time this has happened, and it never ceases to surprise you how much of a deathtrap these things are.

>Wincing, you stumble down the hall and into the kitchen.
>You find Sweetie on the floor, covered in a thin coating of some sort of slime.  Kitchenware is strewn haphazardly about the floor.
>She looks up at you and sniffles.

>She may be as sharp as a sack of wet mice, but it's pretty hard to be mad at something that adorable.
>You sigh softly, smile gently, and run your hand through her mane.
>"You okay?"

>She nods and sniffles again.

>"Can you tell me what happened?"

>She bites her lip for a moment.
>"Promise you won't get mad?"

>That... might be a bad idea.
>You glance around the kitchen again.
>Nothing's outright BROKEN...
>...
>"Sure."

>She blinks and breaks eye contact.
>"I put the noodles in the water," she mumbles toward the floor.

>Oh.  Well shit, that's not so bad.  The water was boiling or almost boiling (or not, she is pretty thick) and she tried to be helpful by taking the next step.  Obviously she had an accident and everything went clattering to the floor.
>Yeah, stool she probably stood on over there...
>Puddles of water there and there...
>...but where are the noodles?
>"Sweetie..."

>She looks back up at you, eyes quivering.
>"Remember, you promised you wouldn't get mad."

>You breathe in, and out.
>"I know."

>She turns her gaze over toward the open window.
>"The noodles ran away."

>You chuckle a bit.
>Okay, so the physics of launching the water THIS way and the noodles THAT way are a bit inscrutable, but hey, that's pretty innocuous!
>You lean out the window and look around outside.
>"I don't see them."
>A tugging sensation pulls on one of the legs of your pants and you spin back around.

>"They're not there.  They ran away."

>"What, uh, what exactly do you mean?"

>Her brow furrows and her cheeks flush.
>"Exactly what I said!" she squeaks.  "They ran away!"

>"Sweetie, listen, noodles don't do things on their own.  They can only do what you make them do.  Understand?"

>Gee, what's this awkward silence and feeling of impending doom doing here?  You swear you left one of those things with Fluttershy and the other with Pinkie Pie.

>A scream rips through the air.
>You turn and see Cheerilee staring at you.
>Y'know, next to a slightly sticky Sweetie Belle.
>Telling her about the nature of noodles.
>A quick glance down tells you you're still partially caught in your zipper and were only unaware because the intense, soul-consuming suffering localized to your genitals numbed your nethers to any sensation but white-hot pain.
>So, that happened.
>The next two minutes are dead-quiet and seem to stretch far beyond eternity's grasp.

>And then Cheerilee BOLTS.  Probably in the direction of the police.
>You immediately break into a sprint, chasing instintively after her, not entirely sure what to do but 110% convinced you don't want to go to jail for molesting children.
>You make it out the door before you hear another scream, rounding the corner just in time to crash crotch-first into Cheerilee's face as she runs back the way she came.
>You fall over backwards, and she falls into you.
>You almost manage to form a complete thought before you notice what just scared the shit out your would-be accuser.

>There's a giant heap of spaghetti noodles.
>Wobbling down the road.
>Alternating between dull squelching noises and low moans.

>It's also pulsing faintly.  Like a heartbeat.
>And glowing.  Don't forget the glowing.  It's a little hard to make out in the bright, midday sun, but it's definitely glowing.

>Cheerilee's head whips back and forth between you and the noodles before she realizes where her mouth is and the state of your pants.
>She jerks back a foot or two, then blinks at you.
>"You... noodles?  Cooking.  Sweetie?"

>You nod.

>"Why pants?"

>The language processing center of her brain comes back online just after that and she rockets off into a string of sentences that probably have meaning.
>Unfortunately, YOUR brain is still stalled out and can't quite keep up.
>You just nod a bunch more.

>"Well that settles it, then!  I'll see you at the lake, 'kay?"

>"Wait, what?" you ask, but it's too late.  She's already gone.
>You stumble back toward the Carousel Boutique, adjusting your pants along the way.
>As you step inside, Sweetie rushes over to you.

>"I told you!  I promise not to try to cook anything without supervision again, but I want grownups to listen to me!  I think I even know what went wrong!"

>"Really?  You think you know how some pasta became animated and presumably sentient?"

>She nods. "Mhm! I put the noodles in, and then I turned up the temperature because the water wasn't boiling yet and I thought that making the stove hotter would make the water get hotter faster, but I couldn't reach the temperature dial so I tried to ṷ͇̕s̰̭̝̯̙͚ḛ̙͔͈̦̭ͅ ̶̬͓͚͓͓m͎͎̙͠y ͉̲̰m͏̖̠̠̳̫a͇̺̥͔̩g̖̲̯̗i̤̩̲̠͘c̙.͚͇̟̮̯͖͡ ̛͉̻͕͇̹ ҉̖B̶̜̜͔̪͓͎̗u̠͚͍͈͚̙t͇̺͡ ͉͠I̦̖̼'̝͔̠m̩̻̻̻̩̱̕ ̝̲̺͈̝n̪͘oṱ̴̪͎͉̥͎ ̢̫͉͚̹̠ͅͅv̬er̴͖y ̲͖̰g̗̜o̧o̩̤d͍̹̙̜̺ ̥̲̯ͅwi̛͉̮͎͔̰̰t̵̞̟̝h͎̠͇̫͍̱̠͞ ̵̦̺̩̺̰m̨͍͚͉̼͉̦̝a̩̹̤̩̦͙g̣̩i̩̜̭̲c̣, ̣̯̳so͕̭ ͉̦̻̠͉i̟̰̠̩ṉ̢̯̙̲̗͕̫s̵t̟͓e̞̳̤̣̯̕a̩̼͓͡d͎̰ ̪͕̫͔͓͢o̻̪̮̳̞̥͚f̙̖̻ ͏̹̗ͅt͏̜̪͖u̴̮͈̻͕̰̣̘r̠͓͟ͅni̩̬̗͕̠̯n̦̮̮̥͈̟̭g͍̘̳̣ ̪͔̠̩̪͍͕͠t̹̻̩̳̭̬ẖ̬͙̼̻͞e͚̠͙̪ ̻̪̱̲̲̞̠k̞͈̞̺̤̺ͅn̫̻ͅo̢̘͙̙̬b̛͕,̡͖̻̫ ̙̝̟͓̝I̭̖̻͎̙͕͜ ͟d͏͉̳͍͍̗i̵d̞͓̱̤̤͠ ̖͚̭͉s͜o̴͍̖m̧e͔͎̥̫͔t̺̪̥̯h͉͖̞i͏̤̰̻̼̘̗̪ng̳̹̜̭̱͚͍͘ ̮̰̞͖͝e҉͎̩l̰͖̼̳͘s͏̣e͍͖̙̬.͔̠́
It was an accident, though!"

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