TV Surfing


                                            >You’re sitting on your red, worn couch.

                                            >Being in Equestria is often a blessing and a curse.

                                            >A blessing because the denizens of Ponyville are adorable, but they won’t hear you admit that.

                                            >A curse because given the anachronistic period of the world, many technologies you’re comfortable with are absent in your daily life.

                                            >Well, scratch that.

                                            >Being in Equestria WAS a curse.

                                            >Due to endless waves of bitching and moaning, you manage to get Sparkle Butt to call her marefriend on the other side of the portal to set up some inter-dimensional cable.

                                            >You were told how such a process was possible, but you tune all that bullshit out.

                                            >Instead, you consider what human-pony world had to offer in the way of cable television.

                                            >So, on your busted ass couch, you fiddle with the remote.

                                            >As you channel surf, your spirit steadily drops.

                                            >You forgot how much TV sucked.

                                            >You realize it would have been better to set up inter-dimensional internet.

                                            >

                                            >You recline into your bad-bad-no-good couch, mindlessly hitting the channel up button on your remote.

                                            >You’re sure that you’ve passed the same hundred channels at least twice by now.

                                            >News, Soap Opera, Cooking, Reality TV. It was all so uninteresting.

                                            >You hear a knock at the door.

                                            >You ignore it.

                                            >Another knock.

                                            >Still ignored.

                                            >BANG!

                                            >Without even turning your head, you already knew who it was that just kicked in the door.

                                            >”Hiya, Nonny!” Pinkie greeted cheerfully, her hind legs still suspended in the air in a post-buck position.

                                            “I need you to stop kicking my door open, Ponk.”

                                            >”But you never open the door!” Pinkie complains, letting her legs fall back to the earth. “And besides, you like when I come by~!”

                                            “No, I don’t.” You say sternly.

                                            >You did.

                                            >As annoying as Pinkie could be, which is wearily often, she had the sort of charm that made it so you could never stay mad.

                                            >Maybe it was the bright blue eyes she would flutter whenever she did something wrong?

                                            >Maybe it was the soft, pink fur that she would wrap you in when she gave out a surprise hug?

                                            >Maybe it was the bouncy, upbeat attitude that never failed to disarm you, even at your most enraged?

                                            >Or maybe, just maybe, it was that ungodly thicc flank that has been the culprit of more than a couple restless nights.

                                            >Yeah, probably that, you degenerate.

                                            >

                                            >Pinkie trots over to you, stopping when she sees the alien device sitting in front of you.

                                            >”Ooooooh~! What’s this doohickey?”

                                            “A mistake.” You answer bluntly. “I thought it would break the monotony just a little bit but it only makes it more apparent.”

                                            >”What do you do with it?”

                                            “What kind of question is that? You watch the moving pictures and it makes you laugh and stuff.”

                                            >You immediately facepalm as you just realized you said her trigger word.

                                            >”Oh oh oh! Really?!” Pinkie’s eyes brightened. “Can I watch the mistake with you then!?”

                                            >Pinkie gets into her usual begging pose.

                                            >It’s one she’s perfected over the months to specifically break you.

                                            >She sits on her hind legs and tilts her head.

                                            >Her eyes water, almost on command, making her eyes shine brighter.

                                            >She pouts, not to much to be disgusting. Just enough for her weird, pony lips to pucker.

                                            >She whines very softly, like a puppy left out on a cold, Christmas Eve.

                                            >All of this production, just to watch TV with you.

                                            >You sigh.

                                            “Fine, but only if you sit on the other side of the-“

                                            >”YIPPEE~!” Pinkie springs into the air and lands right onto your lap, her cushiony tail breaking the fall.

                                            >You still recoil in surprise.

                                            “Damnit, Pinkie!”

                                            >She giggles. “Sorry, Nonny. But your lap is too comfortable to NOT sit in!”

                                            >You groan. Partly because of frustration and partly because of “frustration”.

                                            >

                                            >This damn, fluffy mane.

                                            >It was blocking your entire field of view.

                                            >You attempt to press her hair down to peer over it, but it was like pushing down a spring.

                                            >Pinkie, of course, didn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of your struggle.

                                            >Or maybe she was and this was her way of teasing you.

                                            >It wouldn’t be the only thing she was teasing.

                                            >Of all the places to sit, why here?

                                            >Your mind fails to draw the separation between a mare and a woman.

                                            >Your only solace is the fact that she does pass the Harkness Test, so it shouldn’t be too bad.

                                            >From what you can hear, you’ve landed on some cheesy b-movie flick, likely a slasher.

                                            >It seemed as good as any channel to stop.

                                            >Without being able to see the TV, you casually play with the floofy mane.

                                            >The sweet smell of sugar fills your nose, like baked sweets taken straight from the oven.

                                            >You play with the strands of hair in your hand.

                                            >Her mane coiled around your finger, almost prehensile in nature.

                                            >The screams of the innocent victims on the television begin to die down, as you grow more blissful.

                                            >Unaware of your actions, you hug Pinkie tighter against you.

                                            >”H-huh?!” She squeaks. “What’s the matter, Nonny? Are you scared?”

                                            >You didn’t answer, for you were lost in your own world now.

                                            >You bury your face in her mane, sinking into it like it was quicksand.

                                            >You breathe in deeply, taking in all the baked good smell that your lungs could handle.

                                            >You exhale against her skin, causing her to shiver a bit.

                                            >”N-Nonny! That tickles!” She giggles, which tickles your nose. “What’s gotten into you, silly?”

                                            >

                                            >You open your eyes, now acutely aware of your actions.

                                            >You remove yourself from her mane, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

                                            “I-I just got tired!” You lie, you know, like a liar.

                                            >”You never told me you were the cuddly type~!” Pinkie teased, wearing a smug grin on her face.

                                            “I’m not! I just, uh, was...tired?” You were aware you reiterated the same excuse but that somehow sounded better than the alternative.

                                            >”If you wanted to cuddle you could’ve just-“

                                            >You didn’t let Pinkie finish, as you pulled her close and tight, hiding your face in her mane again.

                                            “Don’t say anything, alright? Just...let me have this.” Your voice was a little muffled, but clear enough for her to hear.

                                            >Pinkie smiles softly.

                                            >”Okie Doki Loki~!” She sings, slamming a hoof on the remote.

                                            >The remote flies into the air and lands within the singular curl of her mane.

                                            >In usual Pinkie fashion, she uses her mane to surf through the channels.

                                            >”Let’s see what else there is to watch!” She chirps, letting you relax within the comfort of her mane.


                                            END