Title: Choose Life Author: noodle- Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/wHueatqh First Edit: Thursday 21st of February 2013 10:58:46 AM CDT Last Edit: Thursday 21st of February 2013 10:58:46 AM CDT >Well this is it then; you’ve fucked up good and proper this time. >The tough one cracks his knuckles once more, >”So, Mr. Anonymous, I’ll say it again. Just give us the money, and we won’t have any more problems. We can just walk away from this and forget all about it.” >Sure. You’ll just pull $6000 out of your jacket pocket. >Not that you could anyways with your hands tied up. >The pressure is on now. I…I h-have it….I CAN have it soon! I just need a lit- >Without a warning, the thug’s fist connects with your jaw; you feel his rings rattle your teeth. >The nerves send a signal to your brain: >Error 20. Stack overflow. Conscious.exe has stopped working. >You snap out of your dream. >You still feel the fear from your memories on Earth even in Equestria. Some things you just can’t escape it seems. >You crawl out of bed and do the new morning ritual: >Splash water on face, urinate, and eat your toast at the small table in the kitchen. >You spread your strawberry jam on the stiff brown bread. It’s like 125% wheat. >The fruit spleggings remind you of when you borrowed too much money at one time from some Russians. Three teeth later, you’ve learned never to do that again. >You glance over to the corner of the table where Ponyville’s citizens have entrusted you to do their taxes. >The stack has started to collect the tiniest amount of dust in its neglected corner. >You’re great with numbers, the best in fact. You did very well in college, until you gambled away your tuition. >You let out a groan. You need to stop thinking about the past, especially since these ponys are depending on you! >You force the toast down and whip out your pens and get to number crunching. >Two hours and Ms. Heartstrings, Ms. Cheerilee, and an Applejack later, you’ve come to a legitimate stop in your work. >You lick the end of your last pen, trying to coax some more liquid out, but to no avail. >You can’t let others down. It’s a personal sickness. Welp. >You head through the door towards the store >On the way there, you reflect on all the lush foliage that’s in Equetria. Had you not studied chemistry, you’d like to have been a botanist. It turned into a little hobby for you. >You talk to yourself as you walk, Tulipa clusiana. Lilium candidum. Bellis perennis. >Kill yourself. >You open the door to the shop and grab your pens and some other stationary. >You place it on the counter and fidget in your pocket for the 10 bits you were asked for. Oh, err…I must have left my money at home… >Actually you spent it already. You neglected your work so much that your meager savings dried up pretty quickly. > Now you have to do the most awkward move in the book. I’ll have to put this back, I’m sorry… >You turn around in embarrassment to see the yellow pegasi fluttering eye level with you. >”Oh, d-do you need money, Anonymous? I-I could spare you some…i-if you want?” >Fluttershy. She’s at least less creepy than she used to be. >Well. Maybe not. >Tapping on your window in a rhythmic pattern while singing in her mouse voice while it rains? >Yeah that was pretty creepy. Oh, I couldn’t borrow money…that’s rude of me. >”N-no, it’s quite alright, Anonymous…I don’t mind.” >She forks over the money, which you regrettably accept to purchase your supplies. Thanks, Fluttershy; I’ll pay you back soon. >”W-well…maybe there is something you could do to repay me n-now…” >You gulp hard. What could it be? Something sexual, but what exactly? >It doesn’t matter, you need this stuff now! Okay…what do I have to do? >Fluttershy giggles, “Oh, Anonymous…just come to my house later, you’ll see.” >Shit. >You pack up your things as you give the cashier a “help me” look. >Flutters calls out to you, >”D-don’t be afraid to get…dirty…” >Back at home. Time to take your time with these taxes. >Sure, you could skip going to Fluttershy’s, but you fear the repercussions that could come of that. >She said that one time she carved your name into her hooves. You don’t know if she was serious or not… >You shudder at the thought and blaze through the paperwork. Apparently Rarity’s business is struggling. >Who’d have thought a clothing shop would have a hard time staying in business in a world of naked ponys? >And with that, all the tax forms have been completed. The only thing to do now is file them and collect your payment. >Finally, all the back rent can be paid…and you won’t have to move back in with Fluttershy. >You let out a loud sigh, THANK YOU! >You stare at your plate of crusts from this morning; something left behind… >Just like you. >The crust is what keeps the other bread soft. The crust takes the heat and for what? To get ripped off and left on the plate, forgotten? >You continue to stare at the bread. >You feel the usual guilt and pain in your stomach slip away. For the first time you actually feel… >Finished. >You don’t want to be a loser any more. This is the last time you’re going to be frivolous with money. >But, that's gonna change – you’re going to change. This is the last of that sort of thing. Now you’re cleaning up and moving on, going straight and choosing life. >You’re looking forward to it already. >Time to go and see what she wants… >Fluttershy.