Title:           Option 2 1/2
Author:          Anonymous
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/tUxDzp77
First Edit:      Thursday 19th of May 2016 06:45:01 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Thursday 19th of May 2016 06:45:01 AM CDT

>It's that time of the night again.
>Browsing /mlp/ for the last few hours. The usual schedule for a slightly overweight, 27 year old man like yourself.
>As you'd expect, all you see is shitposting and generals. Ugh. Shit pisses you off.
>You throw an empty water bottle at the screen in frustration. It bounces off with a *tink*, right back at your head with a *bon*.
>The 4k monitor tips backward, setting off a chain of events that rival fuckin' Armageddon. Aliens will tell their children the tale of how Earth was fucked the hell up, uninhabitable till the heat death of the universe, for generations to come. It is biblical.
>Actually, it just tips over the old glass Sprite bottle you have.
>Damn, you kind of wish Satan would rip the asshole of Earth with his candy-apple cock formed from the souls of the damned.
>Life was kind of boring for you, to be honest. You held a stable job; had a nice, comfortable house with expensive tech. It was all anyone your age could ask for.
>But you, however, weren't satisfied. You wanted more... something. Spice up life a little. You aren't quite sure.
>In your over exaggerated thoughts of absolute Armageddon, you find a thread with no title.
>Further investigation reveals it was *drum roooooooooooll*
>Another general. Fuck.
"I'm sick and tired of these motherfucking generals! If I see one more goddamn general..."
>After a breath, you calm down enough to read the post, which you unknowingly opened in a new tab in your pure, unadulterated rage.
>"You have 2 choices."
>Both generic as fuck choices, but you decide to pity the thread, against your better judgment.
>You post:
"Once I take a copius amount of pain medication from seeing another general, I'll pick option 2 1/2."
'Hah. Beat that faggots.'
 
>Once you finish stroking the dick of your own ego to make it rival Stonehenge in terms of erecting, you come to your senses.
"Ah, whatever." you say, and close the tab down.
'It's not worth staying up to the wee hours of the night just to tell them off about generals.' you think.
>It's time for you to go to bed though. But something catches your eye...
>"CelestiaxTwilight Extravaganza Part 5: The SunnyD Chronicles"
>After your state of unimaginable, unrelenting rage towards everything that had a resemblance to something tangible in your room, you hop into bed, and turn off the light.
>Comfy, check. Two pillows, check. Cat, check. Image of fat man in the window, check.
>Wait, what.
>You instantly look back to the window, but nothing is there. You do at least a triple-take. At least.
>Nothing seems to be the matter. In fact, all you end up making out is the tree near your window. Why you planted a tree there, you'll never know.
 
>*SLAM*
>The impact of the door with it's frame, also known as "slamming the door", causes your cat to jump backwards away from his food bowl.
>If you didn't know any better, you'd say the house would also implode from sheer force. But you know better. What are you, 5?
>Snarky narrator aside, you were pretty pissed off. Not only had you fell asleep at work, but you got yelled at by your boss for not getting the software prototype in early enough for the presentation.
>You like your boss, but damn can he be an ass. It's not your fault you were awake half the night worried about some albino fat man breaking into your house and making off with your 1,000$ computer and/or slitting your throat while you sleep.
>It's a good thing you worked hard most of the time, or else you'd have been fired.
>Heh, like he'd fire you though. He needed your programming for the company, and with 4 years experience you couldn't ask for a better guy.
>Except, maybe, one with more experience.
>You slump down into your couch, notes in hand.
"I need some goddamn cartoons."
 
>You still liked cartoons. Shit like Spongebob season 1-3, Steven Universe, and of course MLP. People might've thought you were a freak in 2010, but it seems like that shitstorm has calmed.
>Maybe.
>All the episodes of Spongebob airing right now are shit. You groan to yourself in disgust. Nickelodeon won't let it die.
>You, being the masochistic person you are, subject yourself to this show. You fall asleep halfway through one episode.
>You are having dreams of  pie, when you hear a loud knock at the door, making Thor feel threatened by the fierceness of said knock.\
>Lazy ass you decides to wait for a moment. You mute the TV in an attempt to fool them.
"Maybe they'll go away..."
>knockknockitsknuckles
>Nope. That won't work.
>Another groan, and you drag your ass off the couch, actually falling to the floor. Sleep really evaded you last night.
>Deciding not to look like a faggot to the pictures on the wall, you stand up and answer the door.
"Hello, what do you want?"
>He's dead, Jim. No one is there.
>A deliciously malevolent frown forms on your stubbly face. Turning around you begin to speak.
"One of these days I'm setting up a large ass raccoon trap with some fuckin' candy as bait. Those fucking kids will see their-"
>Faceplant. Onto hardwood. Pain.
"Son of a bitch!"
 
>You look to see what you've probably left in the floor again that made you trip, wiping the blood from your nose on your sleeve.
>Surprisingly, it's a box. One you didn't even remember putting there.
"Son of a BITCH! I swear if one of those damn kids is in here, I'll tell your goddamn parents! There will be retribution!"
>Silence. Not even the cat makes a noise, who is sleeping in his bed.
>Anger morphs into confusion at the box, and against your better judgment, you bring it over to the kitchen counter to open it.
>One knife slice later and it pops open. And inside is...
>A book. War and Peace. You didn't order this book. Hell, you barely read real books.
>It has a sticky note on the back. It reads, "Option 2 1/2. To Kayge"
>The fuck?
>You open the book, finding blank pages. A quick skim through proves this, all except for the first and last pages.
>Last reads Option 2 1/2, along with a signature line on page one, titled, "This Book Belongs To:"
>Man, these kids are real cryptic now.
>You stare at it for a minute, not sure what to do.
"I guess I could just keep it and use it for programming notes."
>Another moment to mull it over. You pull a pen out of a drawer, and start signing your name on the line.
>With a stereotypical poke of the pen, you finish the signature. Good, now back to sle-
>The book begins to glow. Really bright. Like hot damn, it's bright.
>You shield your eyes from the light, unable to make anything out in the room. A poof of... something resonates throughout the room.
"Who the hell is there, and why is this goddamn book going supernova!?"
>A shout, unable to be heard clearly from the whine the book is making, doesn't go unnoticed by you.
>As soon as the book starts glowing, it stops. But as you uncover your eyes, you find you only see black.
>Your body begins to succumb to a sudden exhaustion. The last words you are able to make out before falling asleep...
"Son of a bitch..."
 
>You wake up to the sound of grass and leaves blowing in the wind. The surrounding temperature is comfortable, and the air smells fresh.
>And you are freaking the fuck out.
"Where the hell am I!? What is this place!? Why do I still have this huge ass copy of goddamn War and Peace!?"
>A quick examination of the book and you scream.
"AND WHY THE SERIOUS FUCK ARE THE PAGES BLANK!?"
>Feeling short of breath, you collapse into the grass, panting like a dog. You haven't screamed that hard in a long time. Maybe someone heard you?
>Looking around, you see it is night. You sit up, taking in your surroundings. A grassy plain, with a few trees. It all looks pristine.
"Well, might as well take a look around for others and th-"
>You scream even louder than before, collapsing into a hissing wreck on the ground.
"Wh-What the fucking fuck? My goddamn leg! Oh mother of Mary this hurts! What the hell even happened?!"
>Looking behind you, you see a serious indent in the grass. Did you... fall here? If so, why aren't you dead?
"Well, that explains the leg. It must be fucking cracked clean in two."
>You plop back into the indent, holding your wet leg, which seemed to be bleeding. Again it seems, as evident by the dried blood.
>There is nothing you can do at the moment. All you do is wait for someone to show up. Then, cinimatically, it begins to rain.
"Fucking fantastic work there, Mother Nature. Real good job."
>An hour passes, though it could have been 3 for all you know, rain still pouring.
>Frustrated, you let out a yell.
"If nobody will come find me, I'll find their asses and deliver a beating that fucking First Testament God would call me out on!"
>Grabbing on to the grass, you start dragging yourself along, a jolt of pain each time you drag your leg.
"Fuck. Ow."
"Fuck. Ow."
>And so on and so forth. For like, half an hour.
>Eventually, you reach a point where you can't continue. A dirt road. A wet, muddy dirt road.
"Well shit."
 
>You lie there on your stomach, grumbling to yourself about your leg and how hungry you were.
"Shitty ass fucking road why'd it have to be a dirt one couldn't it have been paved speaking of where are the fucking cars I haven't seen a single fucking one since I stopped here."
>Breath in...
"I'm fucking starving I'm gonna fucking die out here alone stupid shitty ass War and Peace I knew it would be the death of me Son. Of. A. Bitch."
>After your tirade, you collapse on the road. You lay there, dozing off slowly every minute. Until you hear a shout.
>"Oh my! Are you all right!?"
'Did I just fucking hear that? Nah, probably the wind. Back to sleep.'
>"What are you? I haven't seen an animal like you before. I'd better get you back to my house!"
'No, please let me sleep I'm still fucking tired.'
>You hear a... flapping... before it goes silent.
>Your thoughts drift back to sleeping, and you gently fall back asleep. Well, as gently as you can with rain pouring on your back.
>...
>Mmm. Pie. The greatest of all pastry-like dishes. There is pie all around you, at least a thousand of them. You continue to dine on the pie. Your stomach is bottomless. You've never been more happy.
>But wait. Suddenly you feel a strange resistance in each bite. You look down at your beloved pie, only to find out the horrific truth of what you've been eating.
>Cherry.
>You bolt upward, screaming at your irrational distrust of cherry pie. A loud *THUD* resonates, and after you calm down enough to see your surroundings not in a syrupy red tint, you notice it's a cabin.
"The fuck am I at?"
>A sound of hard material hitting the wooden floor greets your ears. Intrigued, you cock your head to the side, only to see a yellow blob staggering.
"The fuck is that?"
>It has wings... It's a quadruped.
"Son of a bitch..." you whisper.
>It gets up, but it's not an it. It's a she.
>"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm fine. How are you feeli- oh dear!"
>You pass out.
 
"Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. This can't be fucking real. That thread. That motherfucking thread."
>You have been going on like this for 4 minutes, while Fluttershy and Rarity look onward in abject confusion.
>"Um, darling, what are you talking about? I only know one kind of thread and this still makes no sense."
"Can you shut the hell up for a minute?! I'm having a crisis!"
>"You have awfully crude language. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Probably."
>Rarity facepalms. Facehoofs? You don't know. She didn't like your smart-ass tone though.
>"Well Fluttershy, I'd love to keep staying here with... this... but I have some dresses to sew."
>Rarity walks out without even looking back.
"And don't come back you knife-eared piece of shit!"
>Fluttershy cowers slightly. "Why are you being so mean to her?"
"Because I've been taken hostage by War and Peace 2: The Shit-Wrecker and am in a bad mood, that's why."
>"War and Peace? You mean that book you were holding? It's by the bedside table."
>True to word, it was there in all it's piss-stained glory.
>Well, actually rain but you hated that book so much at this point it could have been Holy Water and you wouldn't care what you called it.
>And it wasn't exactly in any sort of glory. It did... something to bring you here, so it could burn for all you care.
>Fluttershy left to get you some tea to warm you up, since you couldn't stop shivering.
"I'm twenty-fucking-seven years old and I've still got a cold from being out too long. How pathetic."
>Even more pathetic, getting tea from a pony. Though it could be seen more as a fever dream than reality, but you just wanted to get home and sleep. It didn't feel natural sleeping elsewhere.
>You've pinched yourself at least twenty times, but you felt every single goddamn one.
>While she makes the tea, you decide to investigate this book.
 
>Surprisingly, the pages aren't even wet. Seems the cover did a good job of protecting absolutely nothing.
>You notice your name written on the first page. The page that started this all.
>>"This Book Belongs To: Kayge Wilkes"
>The pages ARE slightly singed from when it glowed like a supernova, as you had put it. But other than that they are a pure white.
>You flip quickly to the back, where it still said "Option 2 1/2"
>It still evaded you as to what exactly the 1/2 meant. You were just being cheeky, but it seems that OP, or whoever did this, took you up on that offer.
>Not like it was much of an offer to begin with.
>"The tea is done!"
>Fluttershy brought in a steaming cup of tea, though it is a bit smaller than you are used to.
>You accept the tea out of respect. She DID save your life, fix your leg, and give you some of that nasty ass medicine to numb the pain.
>It tasted like utter garbage, but hey! Your leg isn't hurting as bad!
>As she sipped her tea, you kept looking at the book, vainly hoping something would magically make itself evident.
>Suddenly, you felt something building. Bigger, bigger. It felt like you were onto something. Something that might even get you out of here. Any minute now...
*SNEEZE*
>Dammit.
>"Bless you!"
>She had a innocent smile on her face, like she genuinely meant that.
'She is the Element of Kindness after all. At least I think that's what you call it.'
>Either way you looked at it though, this seemed like a normal book. The only thing you could think of was to write in it, even if that seemed like literally the worst idea.
>You ask Fluttershy for a pen or pencil.
>She trots out, bringing back a ink well and quill.
'Beggers can't be choosers.'
>"What are you going to do with that..." she paused. "What IS your name?"
"Kayge. I'm gonna write down all the shit that's happened to me today, as some sort of cathartic release. Either that or burn the fucker."
 
>"Can you please stop with the excessive swearing? It's really unnerving."
>Hmph. Fine then.
"All right then, but I'm still speaking my damn mind."
>She frowns slightly. "Okay..."
>Okay, now back to what you were trying to do.
>You write down just about everything you can remember, from the book all the way to Fluttershy giving you the pen. Quill. Dammit you wish it was a pen.
>Finally, signing the paragraph as, "Kayge; Destroyer of Worlds, and Wrecker of Your Shit" to make sure you didn't activate any more son of a bitching magic this book had up its proverbial sleeves.
>A minute to go over it as Fluttershy feeds Angel Bunny in the corner. As you get to sentence two, the words start to glow.
>Oh shit! Duck for cover!
>You throw the book like a McGoddamn Frisbee, with such force Captain America falls into a clinical depression, unable to feel confident about himself and spending all day eating icing out of the tub watching shitty CBS soaps to hide the crippling regret he is consumed by. He dies by hanging the next week.
>But fuck that guy, that shit was glowing again!
>Fluttershy yelps as the book hits the wall, unfortunately not a window and being further from you.
>You pull the covers over your head like a manly man, flexing your 27 year old muscles while doing so.
>Wow, dad was right. You did completely lose it.
>A minute goes by in silence. Then another. You peak out from under the manly floral covers, eying War and Peace like it went to a hate speech rally.
>It's not doing anything. Using your Sith-lord force powers, you lift the book up and over to you. Then, you walk over and pick it up like a normal human being.
>You open the book to the second page. Everything seems norm-
>HOLD THE FOCKIN' PHONE
>New writing below your text. In different handwriting.
>>"Well, I certainly hope you aren't a destroyer of worlds. And your fowlmouthedness could be lessened. But I know that feeling. I'm stuck here. I assume this is where you live?"
 
>You stare blankly at the page, close the book then open it again.
>Nope, still there.
>Wow, your leg is starting to buckle. And hurt. Probably wasn't a good idea to walk over here. You hobble over to the bed and take a seat with the book.
>Fluttershy apparently fainted from the shock of the book hitting the wall.
>You give her a glance, before driving your attention right into the brickwall of War and Peace.
>Something was eating you from the inside. You SHOULD be freaking out now. I mean, this book really DID do all this. Maybe. Still not positive on this, you aren't.
"What the hell is this Harry Potter-ass-two-way-book bullshit?"
>You instinctively reach for the PEN, and start writing a reply.
/Well, this is unexpected as fuck. Yeah, I do live there. Wait, are you that voice I heard?/
>A few seconds pass before words start to appear on the page.
>>"As I said, language. But I guess I am. Does the word, 'supernova' ring a bell?"
/Holy shit. Quick, where are you right now?/
>>"In a house, but it's much bigger than I'm used to. Why?"
/Find a cat and feed that son of a bitch. I don't know how long I've been gone, but that fucker's hungry./
>Some minutes go by. You hold your head in your hands, rubbing your temple. You were going to get wrinkles in no time with this shit happening. Your head hurt already just thinking about the specifics of how this even worked.
>The book glows with words again.
>>"All right, I fed him. You were definitely right, he was pretty hungry."
/Can you explain your location in detail?/
>>"Yes, it's a house. I'm currently in a big room with some couches and a flat, black screen-like thing. The wall is a pale beige, and the kitchen is open. Pretty weird if you ask me."
>Good. Whoever this was was in the right place.
/Listen, you need to know something. You're a pony right?/
>>How'd you know that?"
 
/I'm a fucking wizard. Now, it's best if you DON'T leave the house. I just bought groceries yesterday, so you should be fine for a week or two./
>A full minute goes by with no response. Did you say something you shouldn't have? Did you raise too many questions?
>>"Are you really a wizard?"
>You close the book and smack it against your forehead, opening it again after.
/No, I'm not a wizard. It was sarcasm you twit. Who even are you?/
>>"I... I'm scared to say. What with signing this book and everything. I'll come up with my own name for you I guess."
/So, you've got a book too? And you signed it? I guess I understand not writing it again./
>>"Thanks."
/But you still owe me your name sooner or later./
>>"Fair."
/Look, I need to go. I can't have my host thinking I'm clinically insane./
>An unnatural pause before the next word.
>>"Okay."
>Nothing more was written after that. Just, "Okay."
>You close the book, looking over at your aforementioned host. Fluttershy was waking up, and she was confused.
>"Why did you throw that book!?"
"I didn't."
>"B-But you did..."
"What are you talking about?"
>"But..."
>Fluttershy slowly trotted out of the room, before peaking her head back in.
>"Excuse me, but I need to go look for someone."
"Someone went missing around here?"
>"Y-Yeah, one of my friends disappeared just this morning."
'Son of a BITCH!'
 
>It was at this point that you fucked up. Like, fucked UP big time.
>You had decided to tell no one about your little friend in the book, or more precisely in another fucking dimension.
>That included Fluttershy, who based off of her little information earlier, probably should have known about.
>It was very likely that you were talking to one of her friends, but you didn't know which one.
>You still weren't quite sure what Option 2 1/2 was, but you had a damn good guess at this point.
>So if the thread were anything to go off of, it was your favorite pony.
>But you didn't even have a favorite. Hell, you only really watched the show to feel fuzzy inside.
>You sigh to yourself, putting the book back on the bedside table for the fifth time.
>Desperately waiting for a message from whoever that pony was.
>Shit, this really was turning out to be one revelation after the next.
>Book, Equestria, magic writing book, now missing pony?
>You write something in the book after picking it up.
/So, my host mentioned that one of her friends had gone missing. Now I ask you, does "Fluttershy" ring any bells?/
>Nothing.
>You wait for half an hour for any sort of semblance of a response until...
>>"Yes, it does."
/Then who the hell are you?/
>>"By now they've noticed I've gone missing. Take your pick, I guess."
/When I find a way back home I'm going to hurt you for that./
>>"Yeah, I know."
/Listen, I won't tell them about you until you give the word. Now, as my guess perceives, you are their friend. Does the princess know anything that might help?"
>>"Well, I'd tell you if I knew who you were outside of 'supernova' and 'Wrecker of My Shit'."
/Haha very funny./
>>"I'm only half joking. I really don't want to tell you."
/Jesus Christ, why not?/
>>"Look, why don't you go around town for a bit in the morning? Maybe it is morning there and you should get going. Anyway, I need time to let this simmer."
/Now listen here pony-fuck./
>You stop in an attempt to get something out of them.
 
/Where'd you go?/
>But it seems they're already out for lunch.
>Angrily shutting the book, you slam it down on the table.
>They're right though. You should get some fresh air. Clock on the wall says it's almost 6 in the morning, so maybe Fluttershy will let you go out?
>You're human though. Their ponies.
>Fuck.
>Shit gets complicated when you add a different sapient species into the mix.
>...
>Fluttershy agreed to let you leave, under condition you stick with her. You agree. Because you'd rather not get muscle atrophy.
>She gives you a cobbled together set of crutches to walk with that she uses for bears.
>Because of course bears need crutches. That doesn't baffle you in anyway at all. Nope.
>The ground from her house to Ponyville is wet and muddy from yesterday's rainstorm. You find it hard to use these MacGyver-ass crutches when they keep sinking into the muddy road.
>Everytime you get one stuck, Fluttershy cowers and apologizes.
>Seems she still is suspicious of you, probably because she's never seen a human before. Not that you really blame her. You were real suspicious last night with that book.
>Once you reach Ponyville, you are met with the expected response. Nothing much at first until people start to really look at you.
>First it's just a few. Then suddenly six, and eventually a good fourth of the square is looking at you in shock.
"They REALLY haven't seen humans before, huh?" you whisper to Fluttershy.
>"Excuse me, but I've never heard of that before."
>Yep. There's your problem. But it's not like you could stay holed up in that cabin.
>She is taking you to Sweet Apple Acres first. Applejack's home. You mentally prep yourself for the accent.
>A small crowd of gawking ponies and their slightly shielded children later, and you're back on the country road, with all the glory of crutch-in-mud sticking that comes with it.
"So, I know they don't even know what I am, but why stare?"
>"I really have no idea."
 
>"They don't normally stare like that at something like you. Be glad there weren't too many doing it?"
"Well, I guess you're rig- hold the damn phone something like ME?! I'm a thing now?! I'm a fuckin' human!"
>"Eep! Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you! I'm sorry!"
>She stopped walking to curl up on the ground like a dog that's chewed the couch of your patience.
>Shit, you made Fluttershy upset.
'Compose yourself, Kayge. Compose yourself.'
>You explain what you meant.
"Ah shit. Look, you don't just call people, things. Just because I'm not a pony doesn't mean I'm an animal."
>Did that make any damn sense?
>She straightens out about halfway.
>"I-I know, I was just saying that you are different. Ponyville is usually pretty tolerant. They don't hate Discord."
>Because that's who you're compared to. Discord.
>You sigh, waving your hand in dismissal.
"It's fine I guess. Don't worry about it."
>It's not even worth the trouble.
>Eventually after about 15 minutes of walking, Sweet Apple Acres slides into view. And it looks like what you expected.
>Well, not quite. You expected a shitty looking barn with a dumb house, but it actually looks decent.
>Applejack, who is working on touching up small parts of the barn when you arrive, immediately notices you and Fluttershy.
>"Uh, howdy Fluttershy. Er, pardon my language, but what the hell are ya doin' with this thing?"
>"Oh, well his name is Kayge by the way, and I am helping him heal his broken leg." she smiles widely, though a huge hint of nervousness shows.
>Applejack continues looking at you while she speaks.
>"Yes, well tha's very nice an' all, but what in Equestria is he?"
"I'm a human, Miss Background."
>"Okay, smart guy, but what tha heck is a human?"
>You give a devious smile. She asked for it.
 
"Modern humans are the only known existing members of Hominina clade, a diversion of the group Hominini belonging to the family of great apes. They are characterized by erect posture, bipedal locomotion and increased tool use due to impeccable dexterity. They tend to have more complex brains and societies."
>All those hours viewing Wikipedia at 4 in the morning finally paid off.
>You must've read that article 3 times at least.
>Applejack looks at you dumbfounded. As does Fluttershy. And Big Mac did too as he passed by with some baskets of Apples.
>"W-well, uh, thanks ah guess. P-Pardner...?"
>"S-so you're Fluttershy's friend ah guess?"
>Applejack played that off like the NHL.
"Sure, why not? She pretty much saved my life."
>She took in a deep breath. Her uneasiness showed right out in the open.
>"Well, any friend of Fluttershy isa friend of mine. Come on in, have some pie! Apple Bloom and Granny Smith just made Apple!"
"You had me at 'pie'!"
>...
>You finish off your second slice in no time at all. It's amazing you haven't puked.
>"Wow, mister! Ya sure like pie!" Apple Bloom says.
>"Hoo-wee! I've never seen someone like my pie that much!"
>Granny Smith decided she was a part of this now, so you let her continue.
>"Why, if you'd like some more pie, we have a cherry one stored somewhere. Applejack, go cut our guest a slice would you-"
*CLANK*
>A fork falls to the table.
>They all look over to the source, finding a open mouthed you staring off into space.
>"Uh, Kayge? Ya alright there?" says Applejack.
>Everyone slowly begins to grab for your attention. You begin mumbling.
"Cherry no not cherry anything but that cherry..."
>Granny Smith is puzzled.
>"Is something wrong with cherry?"
"Not the cherry please!"
>They all stare at you for your sudden outburst.
"No cherry for me, please. My brain just caught up with my stomach, heh heh!"
>Nobody is taking that to checkout.
"I have an irrational fear of cherry pie, okay!? No need to rub it in!"
 
>"I'd like to remind you I had no say in any of this. I don't remember saying I was your friend. I-If that doesn't offend you, that is!"
>It was 3 in the afternoon, and after a long discussion of the ethics of cherry pie, you and Fluttershy left.
>You and Applejack actually got along a lot better than you expected. The southern accent drowned itself out eventually.
"Yeah, I know. But hey, they didn't call the cops on sight!"
>"I'm pretty sure nobody did to begin with."
"Cop chase would have been cool though."
>Last on the list for today was Pinkie. Then you and Fluttershy could go back to the cabin and oh shit last on the list is Pinkie.
>It seemed you probably would get gray hair faster than you should.
>You could only hope that she didn't give you a heart attack.
>It didn't take long to get there after you got back into town.
>"Okay, we're going to go in and ask to see Pinkie Pie. Okay?"
"Sure, okay Butterpone."
>"Can you please stop calling me that? I don't like it."
"You didn't mind the first time."
>She breathes deep through her nose, and motions you to walk with her inside.
>Sugarcube Corner smelt heavenly. Pastries line the inside of the glass counter at the cash register.
"Hot damn, it smells really good in here!" you whisper to Fluttershy.
>She nods with a smile. "Yes, everyone comes here for sweets!"
>Mrs. Cake greets Fluttershy.
>"Why hello Fluttershy! Are you here to see..."
>She's staring at you.
>"Uh... Fluttershy who is that?"
>"This is my friend Kayge! He's a... h-human. We're here to see Pinkie!"
>Mrs. Cake blinks a couple times.
>"Uh sure thing? She's upstairs in her room."
>You and Fluttershy walk upstairs, Mrs. Cake giving you a once over as you go up, confused at your sight.
>It doesn't take long for you to find Pinkie. Or rather for Pinkie to find you.
>"Hey Fluttershy! It's been a few days since you've visited and I missed you!"
>Pinkie is about to continue speaking when she notices you.
>Wait for it.
>"*GASP*"
 
>Pinkie Pie burst off in a split second, spooking Fluttershy.
>"Oh dear! S-Sorry Kayge! I didn't think-"
"I know what she's doing."
>Fluttershy looked at you for a few seconds, eyes widening slightly at the revelation.
>You ask where Pinkie's room is and she takes you.
>Knocking softly, the door bursts open a second later, little amounts of confetti blowing through it.
>"Surprise! Welcome to Ponyville!"
"Not really much of a surprise, but thanks I guess?"
>"Oh, well I always ALWAYS throw a party in some way or another for a new face in town! I know I've never seen you around!"
"Yeah, I know you do."
>"Oh really!? Is it like my Pinkie Sense?! What kind of sense do you have, huh huh!?"
>Okay, you're starting to get a headache now.
"Pinkie, please shut it for just a minute. I'm getting a headache."
>"Oh I have some pain killers in the cabinet for when a party gets way out of control! Want me to get you some?!"
"No! Just... just quiet down please. I'm only 27 years old and I'm already too old for this shit."
>"Oh, okay then!"
>Fluttershy doesn't even look phased by the loudness of it all. How the hell does she do it?
"On the bright side, she's the only one who hasn't stared like I just came out of a Neo-Nazi complex." you whisper to Fluttershy as Pinkie invites you in her room.
>"I... don't know what that is."
"Didn't expect you to. Humor me."
>Inside the room was a half set up miniature party. There were about 4-5 balloons and a punch bowl.
>"Would you like some punch, Mr...."
"Kayge. My name is Kayge, and actually yes please. One of these times I'm gonna call myself the fuckin' Messiah and see what happens."
>You make sure to whisper that last part.
>"So, Kayge! What brings you to Ponyville?"
"Motherfucking War and Peace goddammit."
>You're still really upset over that.
>"Hmm, well I'm glad the war is over and now there's peace! Now you can have fun!"
>You bang your head on the table you're sitting at.
"Fuck me with a goddamn yardstick."
 
"Pinkie always seems to miss the point on a lot, doesn't she?"
>"Uh huh, she does."
>You finish your complaint to Fluttershy as quietly as possible before driving attention back to Pinkieclops, Master of All Things Absolutely Goddamn Annoying.
>She pulls a cake presumably out of her ass and puts it down on the table. Thankfully that doesn't seem to be the case as it actually looks pretty good.
>You immediately start cutting a slice, but are disappointed to find out that confetti flies out of the cake.
"Shiiit. I was actually excited for this cake, too."
>"What're you talking about, silly? It's still there!"
"No, no. You're missing the goddamn point you pink... Okay, so you see the confetti?"
>She nods excitedly.
"All right, now look at the cake."
>She sticks her eye really close to the cake to see your point.
>"What's wrong?"
"It's coming of of the fucking cake!"
>"Ooooooooh that! Don't worry, you can eat it!"
>You stare blankly at her for what felt like an hour, but was most likely a few seconds.
"Excuse me, but I need to go. This shit is too complicated for me. I'm twenty-seven goddamn years old, Pinkie! That's not even close to being too old yet but I'll be damned if you aren't physically changing that!"
>The room goes silent. Not a sound, not even from the little Mariachi Bug-Band in the corner. Just kidding, it's just Gummy in a hat.
>Fluttershy is simply staring at the both of you, while Pinkie's smile falters slightly.
>Shit.
"Uh, P-Pinkie I'm sorry. I'm just not into parties. I haven't had one since I was 22, and that wasn't even for my birthday."
>"Kayge, it's f-fine. I just get carried away is all. See?"
>Pinkie Pie throws water on her face to emphasize her point.
>"Woooo!"
>...
>Pinkie Pie stored the remaining cake and sent it back with you and Fluttershy.
"Fluttershy, I feel guilty for yelling at her. And I rarely feel guilty."
>"Don't. You're just not used to this."
>You keep walking back to the cabin.
"I'm sorry, Ponka."