Can't Trash the Dash


                                            >Be awesome

                                            >Be Rainbow Dash

                                            >And today, today is the day that you confess your long-held infatuation for Anonymous

                                            >You’re flying through the clear skies of Ponyville, making your way to his house right now

                                            >To be honest, you’ve been wondering about that human for a while now

                                            >All sorts of lewd thoughts had been filling your mind, the minds of your friends and of all the other mares in town ever since he came to Ponyville a couple months ago

                                            >Those hands of his could certainly reach places inside you that hooves can only dream of touching

                                            >And did you see how well he kept up at the Running of the Leaves?

                                            >That stamina of his was something to be in awe of

                                            >His muscles are so easy to see, too, that it’s hard to keep a cool head when you’re near him

                                            >But so far, you have

                                            >Maybe too cool

                                            >You really hope your lack of communication hasn’t made you undesirable

                                            >. . . Or something like that, anyway

                                            >Nah. And don’t start thinking like that now, or else you’re going to start acting all dorky like Twilight

                                            >Of course he’ll like you, who doesn’t?

                                            >You’re awesome

                                            >You’re Rainbow Dash

                                            >And today you’re going to Anon’s house because Fluttershy is at his door—wait, what!

                                            >You stop flying. From your cloudy vantage point, you can see Fluttershy knocking on Anon’s front door

                                            >What the hay is she doing there?

                                            >She’s never shown much interest in Anon, not like you and your friends have

                                            >In fact, she changes the subject whenever you bring it up

                                            >Something is not right here

                                            >You fly slowly, just for a little while, and quietly land on Anon’s roof so that you can eavesdrop—no, not eavesdrop . . . find out what’s up

                                            >Yeah, that’s a better word for it

                                            >You hear Anon open his door

                                            >“What’s up, Flutters?” he says.

                                            >He has a nickname for her?

                                            >“Oh, nothing really,” she says. “I brought you these, though, as a gift.”

                                            >Gifts? Why is she buying him gifts?

                                            >What if they’re an item?

                                            >What if you’re too late?

                                            >You hear Anonymous hum in a certain way

                                            >“A sandwich baggie full of butt plugs,” he says.

                                            >You’re too late! They’re in love!

                                            >“Yeah,” he says slowly, “no thank you, Fluttershy.”

                                            >Huh?

                                            >“Oh, are you sure?” she asks. “Look how big this one is. It’s called the Tip of the Goddess Horn, and it expands when it’s inserted.”

                                            >“Yeah, I’m sure Celestia is very flattered, but the answer is no.”

                                            >“So butt plugs aren’t your fetish then?”

                                            >She’s asking him about his fetish? You sure wish you had some idea of what is going on

                                            >“I don’t have a fetish, Fluttershy. My answer never changes.”

                                            >So Fluttershy has been going under your nose and trying to get in Anon’s pants this whole time?

                                            >How long has she been doing this?

                                            >And why is he turning her down like that?

                                            >You aren’t really one for butt fun, but even you’d try the Tip of the Goddess Horn

                                            >And Fluttershy is pretty

                                            >Sure, she isn’t, like, as good looking as you are or anything, but she’s still one of the best looking of your friends

                                            >This doesn’t add up. Why is he really rejecting her? Something is really wrong here

                                            >“What about if you used the butt plugs on me?” she says.

                                            >“Give me a break already. You know I’m not into horses.”

                                            >Thank Celestia

                                            >He’s not into horses

                                            >Good thing you’re—“Or ponies. Sorry, I still make that mistake sometimes.”

                                            >It takes everything in you not to go down there and shout in frustration

                                            >“Alright,” Fluttershy says, “see you tomorrow.”

                                            >You hear the door slam and watch as Fluttershy casually walks away

                                            >You can’t move. It’s like you’re frozen where you are

                                            >Anon doesn’t like ponies. Like, not at all

                                            >Yeah, he was never really flirty with any of the mares who came on to him, but you didn’t think that that was the reason why

                                            >This is bad. Like, really bad

                                            >How the hay are you going to change his mind? Can you even change his mind?

                                            >Maybe those times where you were ignoring him, trying to act cool, and he did the same . . . he might’ve really been ignoring you all those times

                                            >And that’s not cool at all!

                                            >Alright, you can fix this. You just have to show him how cool you really are

                                            >Take him out for a good time, show him how fun and awesome you are, and get him to really like you

                                            >You were saving some of your best moves and places for later, in case you ended up really liking him

                                            >But now it seems like you may need to start with those just to get in the door with him, which doesn’t make it seem like you really have a chance at all

                                            >If you pull this off, though, you’ll be the first pony to bed him, the first pony to have stayed the night at his house, something that every other mare has always wanted

                                            >And that’s a challenge that you’re totally up for

                                            >Watch out Anon, because here comes the Dash!

                                            >You fly down and knock on his door

                                            >He opens it, and you’re eye level at his crotch

                                            >You bite down on your lip, hard, at the view. Almost forgot how tall he is . . . Sweet Celestia . . .

                                            >Luckily, he doesn’t seem to have noticed. He’s even smiling

                                            >“Hi there.”

                                            >Get in the zone, Dash!

                                            Hey, what’s up?

                                            >“Nothing much, getting ready for the day. What are you doing here?”

                                            Nothing. I just figured I’d stop by and see you, maybe see if you were free.

                                            >“Oh, yeah, I am. You want to hang out?”

                                            >He’s asking you . . . He’s asking you! Keep cool!

                                            Sure, you say with a shrug. I’ll show you a couple things, if you want.

                                            >“All right, let me get ready real quick. Come in and make yourself at home.”

                                            >You do, and you go take a seat on his couch, which is huge and practically feels like lying on a bed

                                            >His scent in here is almost overpowering

                                            >You always thought Rarity was kind of weird whenever she talked about being disappointed whenever she did his laundry and had to wash his musk away

                                            >But if this is what she smelled, you don’t blame her anymore

                                            >Your wings pop up after a huge whiff, and you have a hard time keeping them down

                                            >You push them down, they pop up

                                            >It’s the same thing every time: Push them down, they pop up

                                            >Sort of makes you feel like you’re in Flight School again, peeking into the senior Cloud Track and Obstacle team’s locker room after they just had their practice

                                            >Push down, pop up

                                            >But you’re an adult mare now

                                            >Push down, pop up

                                            >And you have a lot more control over your body these days

                                            >Push down . . .

                                            >Alright, we’re good

                                            >From the corner of your eye, you see something strange on the floor

                                            >You get off the couch and get a closer look at it

                                            >It’s like some weird looking rag or something; you’ve never seen anything like it before

                                            >You pick it up with your mouth to get a closer look

                                            >It’s white, has a stretchy band, three big holes, a Y shaped slit

                                            >Oh, wait, Rarity told you all about these

                                            >Anon calls these briefs, and he wears them over his . . . Stay down wings!

                                            >“Ready?”

                                            >Oh for pony’s sake!

                                            >You quickly toss the briefs under a table and begin flying, to make it look like you were just stretching

                                            >But you wish you had known about that ceiling fan before hitting your head on it

                                            >“You alright?”

                                            Yeah, I’m fine, you say as you rub your head, keeping it down so that your mane covers your embarrassment.

                                            >Stupid briefs. Were those even supposed to be in his living room?

                                            >Doesn’t matter. Okay, Dash, that’s the only time you’re allowed to mess up today

                                            Well, let’s go. What are we waiting for? you say enthusiastically to him.

                                            >You quickly fly out his door, and thank Celestia that you don’t hit anything else on the way out

                                            >As you’re both out walking, you decide to ask him something

                                            So what’s the deal with you and Fluttershy? I saw her walking back from your house but didn’t say hi to her. Are you two friends or something?

                                            >He thins his lips

                                            >“She’s not my friend. She was just here to talk about something. It wasn’t really anything important.”

                                            >Guess he doesn’t like Fluttershy all that much. Probably better if he didn’t know that this was a date

                                            >Later, after a quick store trip, the both of you are sitting down in one of the green valleys outside town

                                            >"Great idea to have a picnic together,” he says as he sips some tea

                                            >You’d rather be the main course for his appetite right now, but you got to impress him first

                                            >Which is why you chose this valley as your picnic spot

                                            >You look over at him from the corner of your eye and smirk; he’s totally unaware that he’s about to have his world rocked to its very muscular core

                                            >You unfurl your wings as he takes another sip of tea

                                            >This is going to be so awesome!

                                            Hey Anon, watch this!

                                            >Showtime!

                                            >“Watch wha—”

                                            >You fly into the air at speeds no other Pegasus can, leaving a rainbow trail behind you

                                            >The wind in your mane, the burning in your wings, the excitement in your heart, they all combine and make you go faster than ever

                                            >Going back towards the ground, you fly over Anon’s head and nearly knock over the entire picnic

                                            >Hope he saw you wink at him; that’s the best part of your famous “Fantastic Filly Flash” move

                                            >Looking back, you see him staring at you, and you know that it’s time to begin your routine

                                            >Phase one: zig-zag through the trees

                                            >You fly straight towards a clear line of tall trees, separate from the nearby woods, and you move your body like a pendulum between them, gliding effortlessly and never slowing down

                                            >Phase two: spin the clouds

                                            >Spinning around the last tree, you shoot towards the sky and quickly circle around the biggest cloud you can find

                                            >As you go round and round, faster and faster, the enormous ball of fluff begins to turn, slow at first, but then as smooth as a bowling ball

                                            >Is it weird that you hear awesome rock music playing in your head whenever you fly?

                                            >The answer, of course, is no way

                                            >Phase three: the Sonic Rainboom

                                            >You start flying up and up and up, as high up as the highest clouds can be

                                            >There are tears in your eyes now from flying so fast, and the wind in your ears is nearly deafening

                                            >You allow yourself one wince before pushing forward harder than ever before

                                            >Have to make it past the clouds, so that you have enough space to free fall a bit and help your body gain enough speed

                                            >Once you get behind the clouds, where no pony can see you, you allow yourself a brief moment to catch a breath

                                            >You sneak into a cloud and peek out from it to make sure Anon is still watching you

                                            >He’s looking up at the sky where you entered the clouds; you can’t see his face, but you like to imagine he’s totally amazed right now, even if he isn’t cheering like he should be

                                            >Still awesome, though. Now it’s time to blow his mind, and then, later, other parts of him

                                            >You take a deep breath, and then fly towards the ground as fast as you can, which, need you remind yourself, is the fastest anypony can go

                                            >With your hooves outstretched, you split the air in front of you. It’s hard to breathe when the air is forcing itself in your nose, but you do it anyway

                                            >Your cheeks are flapping and there are tears in your eyes from the sheer resistance of the air, but you push on!

                                            >You reach a point where the resistance becomes so strong that you can’t use your wings anymore, but you push on!

                                            >Then the moment of singularity is reached

                                            >Just when you think you’re going to hit the ground, just when you think you’re going to pass out from the shock, just when you think that breath you were lucky to get in was your last, you hear something different

                                            >The air splits before you in a different way; if you could see it, you’d probably describe it as going from a smooth curve to a jagged point

                                            >It feels like your whole body is stretching out and being pulled to its limits, like a rubber band about to snap. But you push on!!!

                                            >And you break through whatever it was that was holding you back, and you go faster than you did before

                                            >A large rainbow-rinsed sonic boom rips the sky apart at your point of departure, out from the trap of the sound barrier, and your tail and mane leave a rainbow colored trail behind you

                                            >In a strange moment of synchronization, you feel as if you’ve become one with the sky

                                            >Like you trusted it to bring you to another plane of understanding through flying, and you’ve seen a wonderful, ethereal, perhaps astral, phenomenon that was delivered to you through love and passion

                                            >You open your wings and feel the grass graze your stomach as you arc back into the sky to do a backflip

                                            >You close your eyes and let the air raise your wings up and into the sky

                                            >The sun hits your belly; you truly feel weightless when you let the momentum take you

                                            >The middle of your body feels the counterclockwise turn you’re performing and instinct will tell you when to return to the world so you can land properly

                                            >This is the moment of euphoria, when you feel lightheaded and at your happiest when flying

                                            >You open your eyes and see the grass as you fall headfirst towards them, and you gently let your body spin one more time before coming to a plush landing

                                            >The ground never feels like more of an anchor than it does right after a Sonic Rainboom

                                            >You can hear the echo of the breaking air thundering in the mountains beyond, telling everypony everywhere of what you just did

                                            >You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Ah yeah, it’s great to be you

                                            >Then you turn to see Anon’s reaction to what you just—is he talking to Cloudchaser and Flitter?!

                                            >Where the hay did those two come from?

                                            >You watch as the two of them laugh at whatever it is Anonymous said to them; he doesn’t seem to share in their laugh, though

                                            >Those easy lays are probably just trying to make sure he has a good time talking to them so he’ll consider rutting them

                                            >Those hussies stole your idea!

                                            >You quickly fly over, and they smile at you

                                            >“Hi, Dash. That was a nice rainboom,” says Cloudchaser.

                                            >“Yeah,” Flitter agrees, “really cool.”

                                            Sure, great.

                                            >You turn to Anon, and show some actual interest with it

                                            >He looks you over in a certain way; you think he’s sort of stupefied with what you just did, but his fixed stare is making your face feel warm

                                            Did you see it? What’d you think?

                                            >“I spilled my tea.”

                                            >. . .

                                            >You look and see that his lap has a wet spot on it

                                            Okay . . . Did you like my routine?

                                            >“When you did your thing, my tea spilled.”

                                            >You make an effort of blinking, as you wait for him to continue, to say something like:

                                            >“Oh, and by the way, that was the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen. Please rut me into your dreams now, Danger Dash!”

                                            >But he doesn’t. All that happens is, after the silence lasts too long, he wears his face long and says:

                                            >“The tea’s cold by now, too,” in a very dry voice, different from the one he’d had before.

                                            >“We might have to make some more,” he says. “More tea, I mean.”

                                            >Who cares about your stupid tea! You have to lock your jaw up to avoid exploding, you feel so annoyed and confused right now

                                            >“We tried to clean him up,” says Flitter, “but he wouldn’t let us touch him there.”

                                            >“So then we tried to tell him that if he took off his pants he’d probably be—”

                                            Look, Anon, did you like my routine, or not? you try to say calmly.

                                            >“It was alright.” He shrugs. “I just wish I had finished my tea.”

                                            >You’re trying really hard to keep smiling at him, trying really hard to keep your cool

                                            >But it’s getting really hard to do that

                                            >“It’s a shame about your spilled tea, Anon,” says Flitter.

                                            >“Yeah, real shame,” Cloudchaser says.

                                            >“Especially since Rainbow Dash did it.”

                                            >“She’s just bit of a spiller, you know?”

                                            >Cloudchaser and Flitter begin moving closer to him as they speak

                                            >“We don’t spill a drop though.”

                                            >“Yeah, nothing ever spills when we’re around.”

                                            >“We swallow.”

                                            >“Both of us.”

                                            >“Every last drop.”

                                            >“Of anything.”

                                            >“You want to see?”

                                            >As they lean towards him, with absolutely sexy looks on their faces, he leans away from them

                                            >You’re pretty pissed that Anon didn’t have much to say about your routine, but if he stays around these tramps he’s definitely going to have a bad time

                                            >How is it going to look when you put the moves on him later if he has bad experiences now?

                                            >You jump between him and the two slut sisters and glare at them

                                            Hey, can’t you see he’s not interested? Back off already.

                                            >They’re a bit taken aback at this, and they give you and Anon some distance

                                            Let’s get out of here, Anon.

                                            >He looks at you in a certain way again

                                            >“Uh . . . All right,” he says.


                                            >Anon has been pretty quiet since the two of you got up. But that’s fine. You need to think anyway

                                            >How come your routine didn’t impress him?

                                            >It’s an awesome routine after all, and it won you first place in the Best Young Flyers competition

                                            >Did Cloudchaser and Flitter distract him too much?

                                            >No, you don’t think that was it, since they both at least saw your routine and commented on it

                                            >It must be something else

                                            >Does he think that you aren’t cool or amazing? Why would he think that?

                                            >He saw what you were capable of, and all he could talk about was his stupid tea

                                            >Things were honestly going better before you did your routine and the two of you were just having a boring old picnic

                                            >Maybe you just need to include him in whatever you do next

                                            >He can’t exactly fly, after all

                                            >That’s the plan then

                                            >Phase one: Do cool stuff together

                                            >Phase two: Other stuff happens

                                            >Phase three: Have awesome sex

                                            >It’s flawless; this plan could even get an egghead like Twilight laid

                                            >“Uh, Dash,” says Anon, “did you have any other plans?”

                                            >Anon gives you a confused look

                                            Yeah, I do, actually.

                                            >“All right, can we do them? We’ve been standing here for a while.”

                                            >Yeah, you hadn’t left yet . . .

                                            >The picnic is still laid out, Anon’s pants are still wet, and Cloudchaser and Flitter are still in front of you, both of them looking a bit lost and awkward

                                            >Occasionally one of them would approach and you’d have to jab them with a pointy stick to keep the advancer at bay

                                            >Flitter approaches, and you poke her chest

                                            >She backs away, but then Cloudchaser approaches

                                            >So you go to poke her chest, but you accidentally hit her in the eye, which makes her shriek and run away in pain

                                            >That makes you think; maybe you should’ve left with Anon after you said you were going to


                                            >Anon, now with clean pants, and you are now both at the bowling alley

                                            >You were going to go easy on him during the game, but he’s actually pretty good

                                            >Those fingers of his work pretty well when he puts them in the holes on the bowling ball

                                            >Of course, you have to think about how well they could enter other holes as well

                                            >You can’t wait to get in bed with him tonight

                                            >You can already picture it now: You’ll be walking through town with Anon’s hand resting on your flank

                                            >And everypony in town would see the two of you heading home, and they’d ask, “hey, Dash, where you going with Anon?”

                                            >That’s when you’d get to respond like it’s nothing, and say, “Oh, we’re just going to go home so we can rut each other all night.”

                                            >That’d sure blow everypony away

                                            >And then later, in the actual bedroom, you’ll give Anon the rut of his life, and he’ll feel like such a dork for not having made a move on you earlier

                                            >After hours of it, you’ll finally exhaust him, and he’ll probably want to cuddle, and you’ll tell him that it’s not really your thing but that you’ll do it for him just this once

                                            >And, secretly, you’ll love it

                                            >The sound of Anon getting another strike snaps you out of your lewd daydream

                                            >You look at the scoreboard and see that he’s not far from catching up with you

                                            >As he approaches you wink at him, and you catch yourself before that “other” wink almost happens

                                            Hey, nice job. Not just anypony can keep up with me like that.

                                            >“Yeah, I’ll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom.”

                                            >You watch him walk away, and you purse your lips

                                            >Anon isn’t really one for conversation, but at least he’s hot

                                            >You take your turn and buck the bowling ball with strength and accuracy

                                            >The sound of the pins being hit excites you and you turn around to see what you got

                                            >A stupid seven-ten split!

                                            >You hit the seven on your next turn and now Anon is in the lead

                                            >He’s still not back, by the way

                                            >Might as well play some tunes while you wait

                                            >As you’re heading back from the jukebox, you see Anon in the game room

                                            >Isn’t that where the foals play? What the hay is he doing in there?

                                            >You approach the game room, but stop just beyond the entrance and peer in from behind the door

                                            >A colt sipping a juice box and wearing a propeller hat approaches him

                                            >“Did you win yet?”

                                            >“Nope. This thing cheats.”

                                            >“I told you dude, claw machine is always harder than it looks.”

                                            >Are you kidding? He’s playing the claw machine!

                                            >That’s so uncool

                                            >“You’re telling me, I spent all my bits trying to get this Spitfire plush.”

                                            >. . . Okay, having the Spitfire plush makes it a bit cooler, but it’s still pretty lame

                                            >You want to go inside and get him, but it would be really lame if anypony saw you in the game room

                                            >“So are you just going to give up then, Anon?”

                                            >“Not much I can do. I really wanted to win it, but I’m out of bits.”

                                            >“Well, I can see that you’re really dedicated to the claw machine, so what if I lend you some bits?”

                                            >The colt pulls out this softball sized sack of bits and Anon’s eyes light up

                                            >“Awesome, I can play for hours with this dough. You’re awesome.”

                                            >“No, you’re awesome, Anon.”

                                            >They both wink at each other

                                            >Awesome?! He’s calling that awesome?! Is he for real right now?! You’re way cooler than some stupid foal’s game!

                                            >And what about the bowling game you were both sharing together?

                                            >Bowling is so much better than a kid’s game like that, and he’s not even any good at playing this one

                                            >He can’t even see what he’s doing without hunching down and bending his knees

                                            >This stinks; your awesome plan is being ruined by childish pursuits . . . Not cool

                                            >Looks like you’re going to have to go in and get him after all

                                            >Hopefully, no pony sees you

                                            >You enter and keep your gaze solely locked on Anon’s back

                                            >“Hey, it’s Rainbow Dash!”

                                            >You look warily behind you but don’t see anypony

                                            >“Really? It is!”

                                            >You realize that the attention is coming from the kids in the game room

                                            >“You’re so awesome!”

                                            >No, not now darn it! It seems like some of your more younger, and louder, fans are here today

                                            >You give a meek wave and quickly move through the crowd forming around your legs

                                            >Anon waves at you briefly, but then turns back to the claw machine

                                            >You really want to scream at him for abandoning your game together so he could play this stupid thing, but you bite your tongue so as not to compromise your plan for penis

                                            Hey, what are you doing?

                                            >“Trying to win that plush.”

                                            >You look and see the Spitfire plush, its head sticking out among an assortment of other generic stuffed toys

                                            >As he puts in a bit the machine springs to life: goofy carnival music plays, a digital timer begins ticking down from thirty seconds, lights on the sides of the machine go off erratically, and a slide whistle plays when the claw drops

                                            >The tip of one of the claws hits the head of Spitfire, throwing its trajectory off completely, and it grabs at nothing

                                            >Anon watches in annoyance as the claw returns to its home and the machine taunts him to “Try Again” as a recording of a distorted laugh plays

                                            >Sweet Celestia that thing is annoying

                                            >It’s a bit disheartening to see Anon put another bit in so quickly after that

                                            >This time he misses Spitfire completely

                                            >“Man, I thought I had it that time.”

                                            You’re kidding, right? you almost say aloud.

                                            >He suddenly winces and rubs his neck

                                            >“I got to stretch real quick.”

                                            >Oh great, more time to waste

                                            >You move him out of the way and approach the game

                                            >“You gonna play?”

                                            >You nod at him

                                            >Yeah, you’re going to win that doll so you can get on with this date

                                            Don’t worry, that toy is as good as won now that I’m playing.

                                            >The kids cheer as you take a bit out of the sack

                                            >But as you go to feed the machine, a hoof blocks the coin slot

                                            >The colt with the beanie is smirking at you

                                            >“Just how familiar are you with the claw machine?” he asks.

                                            I don’t play a lot of foal games, but I know I can win.

                                            >The colt narrows his eyes at you and takes his bit bag back

                                            >“I’ll give you this one for free then, since you’re so sure.”

                                            >You roll your eyes at the colt, but he simply nods at the machine

                                            >Whatever, you know what you’re doing

                                            >You put the coin in the machine and it annoyingly springs to life again

                                            It’s easy, you say as you move the claw. All you got to do is get a really good grip.

                                            >You line up your shot and drop the claw right above Spitfire’s head

                                            >The claw closes on her head and you know the toy is won

                                            Easy, just like I said.

                                            >However when the claw lifts up, the toy doesn’t budge, and the claws slip over Spitfire’s head like it was covered in butter

                                            What!

                                            >You bang on the glass as the claw returns

                                            That’s cheating! I had a perfect grab on it and everything.

                                            >The colt laughs at you, and that’s when you see his cutie mark is a claw just like the machine has

                                            >“It’s not that easy.”

                                            >The colt moves you over and begins playing

                                            >"You see, Spitfire is wedged in between the all the toys. The only reason you think you can win her is because her head is sticking out, but she’s set up like that solely so you’ll think she’ll be an easy win when she really isn’t.”

                                            >The kid goes for some teddy bear that’s lying on its back

                                            >"Toys that are lying down are a lot easier to win because you can pick them up with only the claw as resistance. You may not have gotten the prize you wanted, but you’ve cleared the area around it a bit so that you can get it on a different day.”

                                            >The colt gives away the teddy bear to some filly in the crowd and then moves so you can play again

                                            >Alright, you just have to move some toys. That’s easy enough

                                            >You spend one of your own bits and begin playing

                                            >There’s a dragon plush that’s next to Spitfire, and that isn’t buried, so you go for that

                                            >The claw gets a good grab and the plush gets lifted

                                            >You’re going to win something this time

                                            >When the claw gets to the top, though, the dragon slips out and drops right on top of Spitfire

                                            >You growl as the machine laughs at you; you swear this stupid thing hates you right now

                                            >“Uh, I’m ready to play again,” says Anon.

                                            >No way! If you can’t even win this doll easily, then there’s no way Anon could do it in your lifetime

                                            >You pull out your own bit bag and put it next to the joystick

                                            I’m winning that doll. You can go take your turn at our bowling game, Anon. I’ll be back with it by then.

                                            >Anon shrugs and walks off

                                            >You turn to the kids

                                            I hope you kids are ready to win some prizes, because Spitfire is as good as mine.

                                            >The kids cheer again

                                            >That smug colt says that he’s getting some snacks for the show

                                            >You have to win this toy now, not just for Anon, but for your own reputation

                                            >No way you’re getting upstaged by a colt

                                            >You go for a kangaroo that’s on its back, and you win it

                                            >This makes you cheer and pump your hooves . . . Which was totally lame and which no pony saw, right?

                                            >You look around and see that there is only you and the kids

                                            >And that colt, who is eating some nachos as he watches you play, cheese dribbling down his smug chin like hot wax

                                            >And Anon, who’s watching you from a seat by the bowling balls

                                            >You give the plush to a little filly, who thanks you for it

                                            >“I’m’ma call him Terry,” she says.

                                            >Now you get to give the colt a smug look

                                            I told you I could do it.

                                            >“Well, so far you’ve played twice and won once.”

                                            >. . . This colt really bugs you

                                            Well, I’ll have to fix that then.

                                            >This claw machine is getting dashed!


                                            >You had to spend nearly every bit you had, but you finally won that Spitfire plush

                                            >Nearly every foal in the crowd around you is clutching some kind of toy thanks to you

                                            >They all cheer your name when you finally hold up the Spitfire plush in victory

                                            >You knew you could do it

                                            >“You’re so cool, Rainbow Dash!”

                                            >“We love you!”

                                            >“I hope you come by and play for us every day!”

                                            Now, now, I know you all love me, but I need to go and gloat now.

                                            >You grin at the colt and rub the plush in his face

                                            I won your stupid little game that you thought was so hard. What do you think about that?

                                            >He sips his juice box, walks calmly over to the machine, and hits it a couple times so that the bits inside audibly move around

                                            >“My dad owns this machine,” he says with a smile. “You just paid my allowance.”

                                            >He then walks away, leaving you with a toy that you didn’t want and a bit bag that’s nearly empty

                                            >Your left eye twitches involuntarily

                                            >“Um . . . Rainbow Dash,” says a kid, “are you okay?”

                                            >You quickly spin around

                                            What? Why wouldn’t I be?

                                            >The kids get scared for some reason and they all quickly disperse after thanking you one last time

                                            >You then see your reflection in the glass and understand why; you look really pissed off

                                            >You flinch and try to brighten up. Sure, things haven’t gone all that well today . . .

                                            >The digital sign on the claw machine is still flashing “Winner!”

                                            >Hey, you did win, didn’t you?

                                            >Yeah, you did alright

                                            >You leave the game room with your head held high

                                            >Now you just have to give this plush to Anon and—he’s talking to another mare!

                                            >Why does this keep happening?

                                            >The mare has short bangs and a red coat; she sort of looks like Pinkie’s sister Maud, except she smiles

                                            >“Are you interested in sex, Anonymous?” you hear her ask him.

                                            >Oh hell no!

                                            >“I was talking about bowling,” he says blandly.

                                            >“Yes. Do you know why so many sports are male centric? It’s because the most successful sports are all about domination, and males get off on domination.”

                                            >She touches his arm

                                            >“We all like to be winners, but only some are.”

                                            >“I can’t play sports,” he says as he scoots away a bit. “Not professionally, anyway, because I’m not a pony.”

                                            >“Tell me, is it pleasing whenever you stick your . . . claws in those holes?”

                                            >“My fingers?”

                                            >She nods encouragingly, but he doesn’t respond

                                            >“I must say, I’ve been watching you, and I’ve found that you’re quite good at entering holes, which is an admirable trait indeed for any male.”

                                            >“Are we still talking about bowling?”

                                            >“Oh please, you can stop being coy. I find you quite cute enough already.”

                                            >“Cute? But you’re half my size.”

                                            >“Don’t worry,” she says as she puts a hoof on his thigh, “you can fit more in me than you think.”

                                            >“Well I knew that. You’ve eaten three hot dogs while we’ve been sitting here.”

                                            >She laughs. “I’m glad you were watching. I was eating them for you.”

                                            >“I don’t like mayonnaise as much as you do, though.”

                                            >You fly between them and glare at the mare

                                            He’s not interested. Back off, already.

                                            >“Oh.” She looks past you. “She’s with you, Anonymous?”

                                            >“We came here together.”

                                            >“Sorry,” she says as she pats your shoulder. “I didn’t know he was taken. Did you win that toy for him?”

                                            >You feel your face getting hot as the mare smirks at the Spitfire plush in your grasp

                                            Yeah, I did. What’s it to you?

                                            >“Oh, nothing.”

                                            >She gets up off the stool, and then looks at Anon

                                            >“If you ever want to play with some new toys, you know where to find me.”

                                            >She sways her hips as she walks away, and you sneer

                                            >“She probably meant by the snack bar,” he says.

                                            >You turn and raise an eyebrow at Anon

                                            >“That’s where to find her. She really likes hot dogs.”

                                            >He smiles at you, but you aren’t sure what to make of it

                                            >Is that a thank you? Is he trying to be funny?

                                            >You have no idea

                                            Here’s your toy.

                                            >You hold out the plush for Anon, but he purses his lips and doesn’t take it

                                            Here.

                                            >“No thank you.”

                                            What?! you shout.

                                            >Your outburst makes the whole alley pause and you quickly lower your voice

                                            Uh, maybe we should go.

                                            >Outside the two of you are walking and you try to give Anon the plush again, but he doesn’t take it

                                            But I won it for you.

                                            >“That was nice, but I don’t really want it. If you won it, you should have it.”

                                            You said that you wanted to win it.

                                            >“Yeah, I wanted to win it. But I didn’t, you know? I didn’t actually want the toy, I don’t really play with toys. I just wanted to win it.”

                                            >He can’t see you trembling with rage, right? Because you are

                                            >“Oh, check that out.”

                                            >Anon runs over to a supermarket and—oh, you’ve got to be kidding

                                            >He’s looking in another claw machine

                                            >You’re starting to wonder if there’s something wrong with Anon that you never noticed until now

                                            >“This one’s got a Daring Do plush.”

                                            >”Cool!”

                                            >Pinkie Pie seemingly appears out of nowhere and is standing next to him

                                            >”Hiya, Nonny. Hiya, Dashie.”

                                            Uh, hi there, Pinkie.

                                            >“Dashie you are not going to believe what I just heard. So I ran into Pipsqueak on the way over here, and he told me, that he heard from Featherweight, that there was a pony in the bowling alley who was giving away free toys.”

                                            >Pinkie’s enthusiasm deflates

                                            >“But I know that’s just too good to be true.”

                                            Here. You want this plush?

                                            >Pinkie gasps and takes it from you

                                            >“Oh my gosh! This is from the bowling alley, Dashie!”

                                            >She rushes off, shouting “Dreams come true!” throughout the streets before you can tell her goodbye

                                            >Come to think of it, you probably should’ve just kept that plush and given it to her on her birthday or something

                                            >You hear a familiar annoying jingle and you see Anon is playing that claw machine

                                            >You catch up in time just to see him miss Daring Do by a mile

                                            I thought you spent all your bits?

                                            >“There was a free play. What happened to your toy?”

                                            Oh, I gave it to Pinkie Pie.

                                            >”Well, dang. I wish you had given it to me.”

                                            >For pony’s sake!

                                            What are you talking about? I did try to give it to you and you said you didn’t want it.

                                            >“Well I thought it was a gift. If I had known it was akin to a couch on a lawn with a free sign on it, I would’ve reconsidered my stance on the property.”

                                            >If Anonymous was a stallion, you would’ve kicked his flank to the curb by now

                                            >Unfortunately, he’s a human

                                            >A musky, muscly, manly, maregasm inducing piece of hot meat

                                            >So the challenge is a bit more than you thought it was going to be . . . Okay, a lot more than you thought

                                            >This whole day has been full of surprises, from Fluttershy to—is he playing that stupid game again!

                                            >He walks back to you with nothing to show and “Try Again” flashing on the claw machine

                                            I thought you didn’t have—

                                            >“I found a bit on the ground.”

                                            >You look at the machine and you meet the eyes of the plush Daring Do

                                            >This gives you an idea

                                            So, do you like Daring Do, Anon?

                                            >“Uh, yeah, she’s all right. Her fourth book was kind of lame, though.”

                                            >But that one’s your favorite!

                                            >It had that awesome fridge scene in it. And how could he not like that Daring has a daughter that she didn’t know about before?

                                            >Sure, maybe Twilight is right about the whole “coma pregnancy” being a bit of a stretch, even for Daring Do, but still . . .

                                            >Alright, fine, you’ll admit it: You want to be the little girl


                                            >You’re currently at the coolest place in Ponyville, the Ponyvillle Community Center

                                            >Okay, it’s usually pretty lame, home to flea markets and bingo games most of the time

                                            >But today, it’s awesome, and that’s because the traveling Daring Do museum is here

                                            >All of Daring’s mementos from her adventures, and even her gear that she regularly uses when going on them, is being displayed here

                                            >Along with original manuscripts of Yearling’s books, and never before seen home movies of Daring in training and interviews with Yearling

                                            >This is so sweet. You were going to come here tomorrow with Twilight, but you’ll just have to come twice, you guess

                                            >You look to see if Anon is as excited as you are

                                            >He’s wearing a pretty unimpressed face. You thought he liked Daring Do

                                            >Maybe Anon is just one of those guys who’s boring to know in real life, but is a freak in the bedroom

                                            >Seems to be your only hope now, because you can’t really make heads or tails of him

                                            >He seemed so cool at the beginning of the date, but it all went downhill after you started trying to do things with him

                                            >Maybe he’s still mad at you for spilling his tea

                                            >There’s not much you can do about that, though. What are you going to do, apologize for being awesome? That’s stupid

                                            >Either way you had to buy his ticket, and now all your bits are spent up

                                            >So you’re making sure that you’re going to get something out of all this effort by the end of the day, and into the night

                                            >Better make sure he has a good time now; the sun will be going down in no time

                                            >Good thing that should be easy, since this museum is so amazing

                                            >You see the room where all Daring’s equipment is being displayed

                                            >You drag Anon in and . . .

                                            Oh my gosh!

                                            >Where to start? You’re overwhelmed by the collection of cool things in this room

                                            >There’s Daring’s whip; look at all the bite marks that are on the handle; this thing has been used so much it’s starting to peel

                                            >You wonder how many baddies she’s stopped with this thing

                                            >Woah, there’s her saddlebag

                                            >Think of how many times Daring must’ve risked her life trying to protect whatever was in that saddlebag

                                            >There are seams and patches all over it indicating it has seen its fair share of the action

                                            >There’s a diagram by the display case, and with intricate drawings it displays just how many secret compartments and pockets are inside the seemingly average bag

                                            >Looking past the diagram, you see that that a significantly large crowd is forming by one of the cases

                                            >What could be so awesome as to draw a crowd that large?

                                            >You push your way to the front of the crowd

                                            >Inside the case, displayed for the first time anywhere, was Daring Do’s signature hat

                                            >As the crowd whispered amongst each other, you found that you could barely believe it yourself

                                            >Daring never, ever, has let that hat out of her sight; and yet there it was for the crowds to see

                                            >Daring has fought hundreds of horrible villains, and gone on numerous adventures in order to preserve historical artifacts in museums

                                            >But now, her most valued treasure of all . . .

                                            >You had seen it before on that adventure of hers that you joined, but this felt like seeing it again for the first time ever

                                            What a great day to be a fan of Daring Do.

                                            >You stayed long after the crowd had dispersed and began browsing the other artifacts

                                            >“Oh, huh. Cool hat.”

                                            >You see that Anon is right next to you. He’s eating out of a bag of chips

                                            >Darn it. You got so caught up in seeing Daring’s cool stuff that you forgot about him

                                            >Hope he doesn’t think you ditched him

                                            >“So, you ready to go?”

                                            What? I haven’t been to any of the other rooms yet. Have you?

                                            >“Yeah, I was here yesterday.”

                                            >He crunches a chip in his mouth, along with the rest of your patience

                                            Anon!

                                            >He visibly jumps at your outburst and you stifle yourself again

                                            >Need to calm down

                                            >If you’re an asshole now then he isn’t going to want to plow yours later

                                            >“What?”

                                            >Take a deep breath

                                            Nothing.

                                            >He looks quizzically at you, and then offers you a chip

                                            >You stick your muzzle in the bag, but Anon pulls it away

                                            >What the hay is his problem?

                                            >“Sorry, I forgot you couldn’t just grab one.”

                                            >He forgot that you had hooves?

                                            >What kind of stupid, thoughtless, ignorant—that is it! You have had it dealing with . . .

                                            >Wait. He forgot you had hooves!

                                            >Maybe this is a step forward. You’re slowly becoming his friend

                                            >He pulls a chip out of the bag and holds it out for you in his palm

                                            >Raise an eyebrow at him, but he just nods at you

                                            I’m not eating out of your hand.

                                            >“Why not?”

                                            >You’re trying hard not to glare at him, but you think you are anyway

                                            Because . . . I don’t know, it’s really lame. Just hold it out for me.

                                            >“Okay. But please don’t bite my fingers off.”

                                            I won’t. Just do it.

                                            >He gingerly holds the chip out to you, like he’s embarrassed or something, and when you take it he jerks his hand away like you lunged at it

                                            >This is the angriest chip you’ve ever earned and eaten

                                            >. . . Wait a second here

                                            How did you get these chips if you don’t have any bits?

                                            >”Well, I went to vending machine. And you know how they have those keypads? I heard that, if you put in a certain code in those keypads, you can get the machine to work without putting in any money.”

                                            >That’s it? That’s what he was doing instead of looking at Daring Do stuff with you?

                                            >In a venomous tone, that you can’t help but have, you ask:

                                            Did you have fun?

                                            >“Well, I kept trying random sequences, but eventually I got bored. I looked in the compartment though, and saw that someone had forgotten to grab their chips. So that’s where I got these.”

                                            >He eats a chip, seemingly without seeing your scowl

                                            >“They aren’t very good, honestly.”

                                            >You decide to leave with Anon

                                            >Hopefully you’ll have more fun here tomorrow with Twilight

                                            >The sun was going down, and you wondered if you had just wasted your time today

                                            >Anon just seems, well, distant, you think, is the word that applies

                                            >He doesn’t seem enthused by anything, or interested in anypony

                                            >He kind of reminds you of Maud a bit, but you could at least talk to Maud—it would always end up being about rocks, but at least it’s something

                                            >You don’t get Anon at all

                                            >Even now he’s still just munching away at those chips and looking at the sky, as the two of you mingle in front of the community center

                                            >It’s like he’s always got something else on his mind other than what’s happening in front of him

                                            >And he’s really, really annoying

                                            >You don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but you know that if you ever did this again, tried to go out with him, you’d have to make him put a bell around his neck so you’d know it when he wandered away from you

                                            >No idea at all how someone so big can be so quiet when they move, but it felt like, whenever you took your eyes off of him, he was gone

                                            >You don’t understand it at all

                                            >Is there something wrong with him or you?

                                            >Do you just need to spend more time with him? Sheesh, you certainly hope that isn’t the case

                                            >You look to the setting sun and, feeling relieved, move a little closer to it

                                            >Maybe if you did, though, stay with him, you’d eventually find something to bond over, sort of like what happened when you first hung out with Pinkie Pie

                                            >But Anon only seems to be interested in machines and food; he just doesn’t seem like an exciting guy to be around

                                            >Maybe the two of you can reach some kind of understanding, like Applejack and Rarity did

                                            >But that would probably require being in a contained space, just like the two of them were

                                            >And the thought of being in a locked room, with only Anon as conversation, certainly isn’t appealing; you’d only do that if there was a bed and a good chance at getting some

                                            >If only Anon thought the same as you did, things would be different, better

                                            >It’s not like anypony else would be better for him than you

                                            >You’re the one with the stamina, the guts to ask him out, the awesomeness that’ll impress him—and you’ve got a hot flank

                                            >You wonder what Anon thinks of you after today. You should ask him

                                            >You turn around, and see he’s talking with another mare

                                            >. . . Again!

                                            >You have absolutely had it with this happening!

                                            >And it’s Lyra, no less

                                            >Of all the mares who harass him in public, Lyra is the one who is least willing to let up

                                            >She’s been known to follow him all day and back to his house whenever he goes out

                                            >Lyra, dressed up in a blue shirt and wearing dark sunglasses, looks at him seriously and says:

                                            >“Do you know who I am?”

                                            >Anon actually seems a bit nervous. He’s looking around like he’s lost or something

                                            >“Um, kind of—I mean I’ve seen you around before.”

                                            >“My name is Officer Lyra Heartstrings, and I’m a lieutenant with the local Ponyville Shirt Police.”

                                            >“The what?”

                                            >“I’m just here to ask you a few questions, sir.”

                                            >“Your first name is Officer?”

                                            >She doesn’t answer him. She’s too busy trying to look serious and flipping through this notepad that she always carries around

                                            >Anon looks worried, which is strange because everypony knew that she just kept smutty pictures hidden between the pages in there

                                            >As soon as Lyra’s cheeks are fully blushing, she looks up and says:

                                            >“I don’t see you registered in our records, Mister Anonymous. Do you have a license on you to wear that shirt?”

                                            >“Look, can you please just save this nonsense for some other—”

                                            >“The law waits for no pony!”

                                            >She closes up her notepad and, her horn illuming, says:

                                            >“I’m going to have to impound this shirt of yours.”

                                            >So she starts trying to lift his shirt up over his head with her magic, but he catches it and starts trying to pull it back down

                                            >You can see why Lyra wanted to take that shirt of his so badly. That human body of his is really sexy to look at

                                            >You have to stop her, though

                                            >So you went right between her and Anon and told her to leave him alone. But she ignores you

                                            >So instead you grab her notepad and, really quickly, throw it in front of some family that had at least twenty kids in it, shouting:

                                            >“Lyra, you dropped your notepad!”

                                            >It opens when it lands, and when the family sees one of the pictures on display, they react; the mom, screaming, the dad staring, and the kids all starting to laugh

                                            >Lyra, hearing all that, quickly takes her notepad in her magic and trots out of there almost as fast as you probably would have (almost being the key word here)

                                            >“Hey,” says Anon, walking towards you, “thanks for that.”

                                            >He’s actually smiling for once

                                            >It should make you feel good, but it doesn’t. Your anger has dulled as the weight of the full, depressing waste of the day falls on you

                                            Whatever, you say as you turn away.

                                            >You start down the steps of town hall; he follows

                                            >“Is something wrong?”

                                            >You can’t exactly tell him that he’s ruined your entire day, so instead you say:

                                            I’m just ready to call it in. Take you home? you offer.

                                            >He looks you over again with certain, searching eyes; they make you feel a bit hopeful that maybe, maybe something good might happen on the way there

                                            >“Okay,” he says.

                                            >The two of you walk in the golden soft evening light, the kind that glares at the sides of your eyes

                                            >You think about how tired you feel all the way through town, and it isn’t until you’re walking past the green valleys nearby where Anon lives that you think of why you’re so tired

                                            >Anon tires you

                                            >Being around him is like having a parasite, with the weight of mountain behind it, attach to you, and then having that parasite make you run a worldwide marathon with no breaks whatsoever, not even to use the bathroom or something

                                            >You wonder if he knows it, knows how insufferable he is

                                            >“Dash, are you feeling okay?”

                                            I’m fine, you say shortly. I told you already.

                                            >He doesn’t speak again for a while. You know you’re being mean, but you just don’t care right now

                                            >“Hey, Dash.”

                                            What?

                                            >“Thanks for taking me out today.”

                                            >You look briefly over at him

                                            It’s fine. No problem.

                                            >A reflective silence drifts in and out between you two like a passing wind

                                            >“Was it a date?”

                                            What?

                                            >“Did we go on a date today?”

                                            Of course it was a date.

                                            >You turn on him

                                            The whole time, it was a date. Okay? There, I said it.

                                            >“Oh,” he says, somewhat dryly, as though he was still unimpressed. “You should know that I don’t like ponies.”

                                            I do know that.

                                            >You face away from him so he can’t see how bitterly emotional he’s made your face

                                            And I still did it, even though I knew that, because I didn’t care, because I thought you would like me if I showed you how awesome I was.

                                            >“Is that true?”

                                            Yeah, it’s true. I wanted to impress you, okay?

                                            >You do not look at him for a long time

                                            >Then when you do look, you see his face, and his eyes seem to be thinking

                                            >“Dash,” he says, turning to you, “can we do this again?”

                                            >You cringe instinctively at the thought

                                            I don’t know.

                                            >“Listen,” he says, “think it over, will you? It’d be me that does all the work next time and not you.”

                                            That’s nice and all, but why? I mean, you don’t like ponies.

                                            >“Dash, I know that you probably think I’m a jerk.”

                                            You do? you say aloud, before you can stop yourself.

                                            >“Course I do. I know how I acted all today, and it wasn’t very nice. I honestly kept waiting for you to explode at me. But you never did.”

                                            >He turns to you with a sheepish smile

                                            >“Made me feel like shit, seeing you put up with it for so long.”

                                            Well what the hay? Why’d you do it?

                                            >“I didn’t count on you being so tough. Thought you would’ve given up on me early on, like I said.

                                            >“I don’t have a lot of friends Dash, besides some kids I hardly even know. I don’t fit in well enough with the stallions, and the mares are all like your friend Fluttershy, something I don’t want.

                                            >“The one pony that I thought maybe could’ve been my friend was you, because you never acted like that around me. Of course, once I saw you doing that Rainboom for me, I knew that wasn’t true anymore.

                                            >“I was mad at you after that, Dash. I should’ve just went back home. But instead I acted like an ass, rather than like a man, and I’m sorry for that. I don’t think you deserved it.”

                                            You’re darn right I didn’t deserve it!

                                            >Then, in a softer tone, you say:

                                            Seriously though, are you saying that, all this time you’ve been in Equestria, you haven’t been able to make any real friends?

                                            >“Not really, no.”

                                            But that sucks!

                                            >“I know it.”

                                            Anon, I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t know you had no friends. I saw so many mares around you all the time that I thought . . .

                                            >“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

                                            Well that’s going to change, okay? I’m going to help you from now on. If there’s anypony out there that knows how to make friends, it’s me.

                                            >And Twilight, and definitely Pinkie; but he doesn’t need to know all that

                                            >“I appreciate that,” he says with a small, somewhat forced smile.

                                            >You look at each other and see, in your eyes’ reflections, the slowly recognizable trembling of sadness rising in them

                                            >Feeling awkward, you turn away from each other and walk in silence, which puts a strain on the enthusiasm of your speech earlier, dampening it

                                            >You shift your wings anxiously, wondering if maybe the best thing for you to do would just be to leave

                                            >You don’t just want to be friends with Anon, even if he desperately needs one; for all your earlier bluster, you don’t think you truly can help him

                                            >Soon his house is in sight

                                            >You both stop at the foot of his door and turn to awkwardly face each other; standing so close, you have to look up slightly to do this, so your face isn’t between his legs

                                            Well, I’ll see you. Okay?

                                            >“Yeah,” he says with a false nod.

                                            Yeah . . .

                                            >Eyes cast down, you begin taking heavy steps, not daring to look back

                                            >But then, suddenly, the wind changes

                                            >“Hey, Dash.”

                                            >You turn around and see that he hadn’t moved from where he’d been standing

                                            Yeah?

                                            >“I was just wondering,” he says, “where you going easy on me back when we were bowling?”

                                            I was.

                                            >“Oh,” he says, “well, so was I.”

                                            >He was? You thought he was playing pretty good to be honest

                                            Really? Why were you going easy on me?

                                            >“Because I didn’t want to beat you.”

                                            >Your tail flicks instinctively; you take a step forward

                                            What did you just say?

                                            >Shrugging, he goes on:

                                            >“I mean, I felt bad about what I was doing to you, and I know how competitive you can be when it comes to sports. So I thought that I’d let you win our little game.”

                                            Hey, just so you know, I was watching you, and I know that you weren’t going easy on me.

                                            >“Dash, I had chicken scratch up there on the board today. Have you seen my top scores? I can do way better.”

                                            Well so can I. You don’t really think you saw all that I can do today, do you?

                                            >“I saw that you got three gutters in a row on your last turns.”

                                            I only did that because you weren’t on your game. You were bowling today like you were playing that claw machine earlier, all misses and slips.

                                            >“So you don’t think I wasn’t going easy on you anymore.”

                                            Hey, I was just saying that to make you feel better about your, what did you call it, chicken scratch.

                                            >“I have better scores.”

                                            Oh yeah. Well, why don’t you show them to me?

                                            >“Okay,” he says, opening the door. “I will.”

                                            >And so you go inside, and you stay all night, and talk about sports, and Daring Do, and about your favorite tricks; and Anon telling you, with a smile, about worse times he had had with mares like Lyra

                                            >And the next day, when you go see your friends, you are able to tell them, with a straight face, that you had spent the night at Anon’s house

                                            >And you felt so proud because you were the first mare to ever do it too

                                            >Then, Fluttershy ruined it by saying: “So, um, did you find out his fetish?”

                                            He doesn’t have one, you say to try and change the subject.

                                            >“Oh,” she says. Then, later, “Well, I guess you didn’t, then.”

                                            >Fucking Fluttershy