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                                            1.
                                            Synopsis: Anon just wants to sit on his goddamn bench.
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                                            >You are Anon, currently in Ponyville Park.
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                                            >Relaxing on a bench, the sun is shining, the skies are clear.
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                                            >It's a truly wonderful day.
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                                            >Nothing could ruin—you notice Lyra trotting up to you.
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                                            >She gives you her trademark grin.
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                                            >"Hey Anon!"
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                                            "Hey Lyra, wonderful weather we're having."
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                                            10.
                                            >"Yeah."
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                                            >A bit of time passes.
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                                            >"So."
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                                            >A bit more time passes.
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                                            >"You're sitting on my bench."
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                                            "Oh, well there's enough room for two."
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                                            >You scooch over to give her some room.
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                                            >She continues to just stare at you.
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                                            >"That's my bench."
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                                            "…Alright. If it bothers you that much, I'll find somewhere else to sit."
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                                            >"You have to pay the bench fine."
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                                            "The what?"
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                                            >"The bench fine, for sitting on my bench without asking."
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                                            >You want to call her out on her bullshit, but you don't actually know how Equestrian laws work.
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                                            >Twilight gave you a few books to read on the subject but you ain't got time for that nerd shit.
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                                            >In hindsight, you should've figured this'd eventually bite you on the ass.
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                                            >…You might as well get this settled now. God knows these kinds of things will always get worse if you leave it.
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                                            "Alright, fine. What do I owe you?"
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                                            >"100 bits."
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                                            >One hundred fucking—
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                                            "Lyra I don't have that kind of—"
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                                            >"—O-or, or you could give me a kiss."
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                                            >So that's her game, huh.
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                                            "…Fine, come on up."
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                                            >Letting out a giddy squeak, she immediately hops up to the spot beside you on the bench.
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                                            >Turning to face you, she closes her eyes, and puckers her lips in an exaggerated manner, eagerly anticipating your next action.
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                                            >You lean in…
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                                            >And give her a quick, chaste peck on the cheek.
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                                            "There, fine paid."
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                                            >Slowly, she opens her eyes, disappointment clear on her features.
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                                            >She stares past you for a few moments, before speaking up again.
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                                            >"Y-you're still sitting on my bench."
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                                            "So?"
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                                            >"That's a repeat offence."
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                                            >Leaning into your side, she continues.
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                                            >"300 bits. Or…"
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                                            >She begins to trail a hoof up your leg, across your thigh, towards your—
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                                            "NOPE!"
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                                            >Quickly throwing her minty body off your person, you make to sprint out of the park.
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                                            >"W-wait! The fine! Y-you have to pay the—BON BON GET HIM!"
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                                            >A blood-curdling battle cry catches your attention as a cream-coloured mare launches herself out of a nearby tree, attempting to hit you with an elbow drop.
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                                            >It barely misses you.
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                                            "Holy FUCK."
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                                            >Redoubling your efforts, you absolutely bolt it back to your house, not looking back.
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                                            >As soon as you make it back home you barricade your front door, just to be safe.
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                                            55.
                                            >Taking a moment to catch your breath, you make a resolution to yourself.
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                                            56.
                                            >You are never sitting on a bench ever again.
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                                            57.
                                            >Fucking Lyra.
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                                            58.
                                            >Fucking BENCHES.
                         by Glimbrain
                         by Glimbrain
                         by Glimbrain
                         by Glimbrain
                         by Glimbrain