>>42446247
James Wootton glances at the clock above his desk.
Apparently he didn’t realize it was so late either.
He stretches in his chair, rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah, I think I’m gonna pack it in too, dude. See you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Were you shaving?”
You must still have some banana cream on your face or something.
“No, it’s... never mind. Night.”
You stumble out of the building.
The only other guy here at this hour is the Security Guard.
He lets you out.
You make it to the parking lot and get in your car and drive home.
Thankfully traffic is light at this time of night. You’re exhausted.
You unlock the door to your home and let yourself in.
Closing the door behind you, you turn on the lights.
Pinkie Pie is on your couch.
Not a painting. Not a plushie.
A pink marshmallow pony is on your couch.
You drop your gym bag in shock.
>”So, I’m in there and you’re out here, right?”
“What?”
She hops off the couch and bounces over to you, grinning like a maniac.
>”So there’s nothing I can do to you, right?”
“What?”
She stops right in front of you.
>”Well, I hope your body is ready, because there are no brakes...”
You swallow in cold fear.
Pinkie Pie produces a small blue artillery piece from nowhere you can identify.
>”ON THE PARTY TRAIN!!!”
She fires the cannon, and suddenly, balloons, confetti and streamers are EVERYWHERE.
Your stereo blares into life.
And your house is full of dancing technicolor ponies.
You don’t get any sleep that night.
Your neighbors hate you.
With a fond tip of the hat to the legendary Chuck Jones, and his 1953 animated film, “Duck Amuck”.
(9 of 9)
