>In the not too distant future…
>The newest iPhone is all yours
>Bad news is, it’s your only internet source because your computer is in the shop
>That’s what you get for staying in a small town
>You live on your own, a small one story home just outside town
>But back to the good part
>The phone company was really good about moving your settings onto the phone, but they don’t decide to help you set internet, backgrounds, or anything else. Bastards just wanted your money.
>You flip around the settings dully, sitting in the bed of your pickup. You grimace slightly as you look over the various settings and apps to download. Of course you go for the free ones.
“No, I don’t want that…nope. Not quite.”
>You start shaking your head, downloading apps swiftly. The usual suspects, things you’d already have on your computer. Things on your phone slow to a crawl swiftly as the queue for apps begins to load all at once.
>They can make this whatever edition iPhone S, but not well enough so that it can multi-task downloads. Go figure.
>Setting down the phone, you climb out to walk into your house to grab a beer. As you open the fridge and grab your preferred brew, a sudden roll of thunder grabs your attention.
“Damn.”
>It had been shaping up to be a pretty day, too. Funny, you don’t remember the weather calling for a storm…you pop the bottle cap off your beer and toss it into a nearby mason jar full of caps.
>KA-KRUM
>Had you not just watched this, you wouldn’t believe it. The boys at the bar ain’t going to believe this.
>A bolt of lightning struck your truck perfectly in the bed. Aside from all four tires blowing out and your interior setting on fire, the truck seems relatively unphased.
“Son of a-“	
>You run outside with your beer, before remembering to go back inside and grab something to put the fire out with. You dump the bottle caps out of the mason jar and fill it with water, running back outside. With a grunt, you dump the water on the fire. It hisses and the smell of burnt vinyl fills your nostrils. With a grimace, you dump your beer on it to put the fire out completely. 
“Goddamnit…” 
>Well, that’s a pain in the ass. Jimmies definitely rustled, you walk to the bed of your truck, worried about the rest of the investments in your vehicle. 
>Your new iPhone looks unharmed. There’s a nice scorch mark around it though, to contrast with the normal red paint the truck bed was. Tentatively, you reach out to grab it. It’s warm, but not enough to burn you. You attempt to turn it on. Nothing works. It won’t even fizzle.
“SON OF A BITCH!” 
>You kick the blown tire nearest you, and swear again.
>Never kick steel rims without any shoes.
>Thunder rolls again, and a moment later rain begins pouring from the sky, instantly soaking your jeans and tank. 
>You tromp inside, mud squelching underfoot as you head inside.
>As you open the screen door, something runs past you and knocks you over as thunder booms again. 
>This really isn’t your day.
>You get up and stumble into your kitchen, first setting the phone on your counter. 
>You rub your hand against your lower back where you fell-no, where knocked over. By something…in your house? A sudden sound of clicking, like claws on a hardwood floor, attracts your attention. You turn and a wet, bedraggled looking pony enters your vision nervously.
>A rather strange looking pony. Its fur is a light-grey-blue mix, and its mane is a rather washed out shade of blue. The expressive looking eyes are teal and despite the pony’s wet and nervous state, look at you with a sort of distant pragmatism. 
>There’s two thoughts that hit you at this moment. One, why does it look so damn adorable, like a stray dog rescued from the outside? The second, why does it have 
>You both stare at each other for a moment before…
>“Apologies, User. iOS was startled by the phenomenon occurring outside.”
“Uh…”
>You turn and open the fridge to grab another beer. This was going to be a long night.
>You chug the beer you just grabbed and place the bottle on the counter with a loud clank. After a moment, you reach for another. The familiar taste calms you down slightly as you turn back to look at the pony now facing you.
“Alright…so…I have a talking pony in my house. And it’s got a horn.” 
>Indeed, you can now make out the horn from under the wet mane. The entire thing seems familiar but placing it is more than your mind wants to deal with right now.
>The pony tilts her head curiously. You assume it’s a female; the voice was female.
>For a moment, you had assumed it was that one program, Siri.
>You clear your throat after a moment of processing.
“So…I’m going out on a limb here. Are you…my phone?”
>You glance briefly at the now-useless piece of technology you paid a lot of money for on the counter before looking back at the pony.
>”That is technically correct, user. I am the iOS mobile operating system designed by Apple Incorporated for the iPhone and iPod Touch, but also extend to Apple TV and iPad devices. My current edition is up to date with the released software.”
>The tone is female, but rather clinical, like a doctor or a teacher. It’s also rather unnerving.
>You sigh, rubbing a muddy foot against the floor. A small sneeze catches your attention. 
>She sneezed. If she’s able to sneeze, that means she’s alive. But if she’s an operating system, she can’t be alive. Your redneck mind is too confused by the possibilities too fully to understand.
>What you do understand is that there’s a talking unicorn that’s cold and wet in front of you.
>You’ll deal with the fact it’s your operating system for your phone later.
>You walk over to the door outside and shut it after wiping your muddy feet on your welcome mat. You grab a towel that hangs beside your key rack and walk over to the pony tentatively. She doesn’t shy away as you approach, just watching you.
>You worked on your uncle’s horse farm, and animals like this shouldn’t be so calm around humans. 
“Erm…iOS? Lemme just…dry you off before you catch chill.”
>”Very well, user.”
>You begin to rub the pony’s fur dry. You take this time to begin analyzing the pony. Her fur feels like fur, alright. No denying that. Her hooves are hooves too. As you dry her off, you notice she closes her eyes close like she’s enjoying the attention.
“Stop calling me user. You make me sound like some kind of fancy techie. I’m Anon.”
>”Very well, Anon.”
>You frown but continue to dry her off. You shiver despite yourself. You’re soaked to the bone, after all. 
>After a few minutes of drying, you look around. Your home isn’t impressive. The living room is right next to your kitchen, the only items of interest being an overstuffed loveseat, chair, and older television.
>You can afford an iPhone S whatever but not a flat screen TV. Way to go, you cheap bastard.
“iOS, go make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll…get grab some dry towels.” 
>”Very well, User.”
>She trots over to your couch. She eyes it with a first real display of emotion you’ve seen thus far: disdain. She hops up onto the couch and sits down. She blinks in surprise and settles in. 
>Just because you live white trash doesn’t mean you can’t live comfortably.
>You make your way to your room and quickly change clothes. You dry yourself off and change clothes. You also change your belt and belt buckle over to the new pair of jeans.
>What kind of plebian doesn’t wear a large belt buckle?
>You grab some more towels and head back to the living area. You see iOS has figured out how to levitate your remote control and turn on your television.
>The fact you could watch this and not immediately freak out washes over you and you pick up your beer and take another swig.
>”Anon, you seem to be lacking in channels.” She continues flicking through tons of fuzzy channels to find a few good ones. A rerun of a familiar show pops up clearly.
>I used to wonder what friendship could be~
>You choke on your beer as you make the connection.
>iOS blinks and looks over.
>”Anon, are you alright?” Her eyes turn pure white for a moment. “Accessing WebMD app. Proper treatment: the Heimlich Maneuver.” 
“N-no, iOS, I’m fine.” 
>You cough and wipe beer from your mouth. So that’s why she looked familiar.
>Fucking ponies. You followed the show from a distance. Sure, you tried your hand at fanfics, but not much else. You did dick around on /mlp/ occasionally; actually, you were going to head that way once you got all the apps you wanted.
>Doesn’t explain why she’s a pony though.
>After you recover from your near death experience, you walk to the couch with your extra towels. You pop a seat next to her and put one across her to keep her warm. She finally selects the Animal Planet. This surprises you exactly none.
“So…iOS…let’s get the obvious out the way. What exactly are you doing here?”
>The pony looks at you. “I don’t know. I assume the electrical overload is responsible for my manifestation.” She shrugs.
>You watch honey badger not give a flying fuck for a minute before pressing the matter.
“You…can access the internet though, right?”
>”I seem to be able to. You picked a terrible data plan, Anon. And service provider.”
>You frown at her. You were a cheap bastard.
“Just look up if there are any other incidents like this.”
>”Browsing.” Her eyes do that white thing again. 
>Its really rather unnerving.
>”No major news outlets report any outbreaks of sentient AI’s appearing as any form of life outside of holograms. I do notice a strange sensation that I am unable to describe.”
>As her eyes return to normal, a loud grumble fills the air. Her cheeks turn pink.
>”I feel two different sensations. A warmth on my face. Accessing WebMD app-“
“I can solve those sensations. You’re hungry and embarrassed for being hungry.”
>You take another swig of your beer, briefly thinking you may need to crack open that bottle of whiskey you’ve been chilling in your freezer; this is too much to absorb.
>”I-I see. Forgive me, Anon. I am unused to being in a body period.”
>She still sounds like your doctor, but at least there’s a bit of emotion in it.
>You get up. Maybe you will have some of that whiskey. You also need to check your food situation.
>You’re surprised to hear the sound of hooves on your floor. You didn’t think she’d get up, but she’s following you. 
>You ignore it for the moment, heading to the fridge. You made a shopping run yesterday, so you may have some food-
>Oh right. Three full shelves of beer meet your eyes, as well as various meaty foodstuffs. Nothing whatsoever that a pony would eat. 
>You swear and open the freezer. A box full of Uncrustables sits next to frozen raw meat and two bottles of booze. You grab the bottle of Jack and five sandwiches, placing them on the counter next to your phone.
“Sorry, the greens section is low. Give ‘em a few and you can have these. Once I fix my truck up I’ll go get you some veggies.”
>She props her front hooves onto the counter to look at the individual packages as you open them up. You grab a paper plate and place them on it. She scrunches her nose.
>”What are those?”
“You can’t Google them?”
>She gives you a scowl.
>Sigh. Humor is wasted on her.
“They’re peanut butter and jelly sandwiches without crust. They’re small so I gave you five.”
>”Peanut butter…and jelly?”
“Eeyup. Gotta wait for ‘em to thaw first.”
>You open the bottle of Jack and open a drawer for your shot glass collection, all snuck out of bars you’ve visited, you cheap bastard.
>You pick the cleanest looking one and fill it up. You take a moment to pour it, and then knock it back. 
>Oh, that burns. You shake it off and look down at iOS as she levitates one of the PBJ’s to her. She sniffs it, and nibbles at it, wincing. 
>”It’s cold.” Her tone is dismissive.
“Well, duh. It came out the freezer. You need for it to thaw first.”
>She gives you the glare again and looks at the bottle of whiskey. “What’s that?”
“Oh no. You just came into this world. You’re not ready for Ol’ Jack Daniels just yet.” 
>You take another pull, this one straight from the bottle. You’ll regret that later.
>Something pokes you in the side. You look down to see her poking you with a hoof. 
>”Anon, I request you share this with me.” She attempts to use a pleading look. It’s almost disturbing how naturally it comes to her.
“Maybe later, iOS. I like your style though. Wanting to drink with the big dogs and everything.”
>You cap the bottle and replace it in the freezer. You place the shot glass back in the drawer and grab a plastic yellow cup from a stack. You reach in the fridge door for your pitcher of water with the filter.
>The stuff from the sink tastes a little off sometimes, so you decided to invest in that at least.
>You fill the cup up with water and place it in front of her.
“There, that’s something you can drink.”
>She frowns but drinks it anyway. You take this opportunity to drink the rest of your beer and grab a new one. You feel a bit hungry yourself, so you grab the leftover burger from last night. The Styrofoam crunches in your grasp as you walk back to the couch, propping your feet up on the coffee table.
>The pony follows you, levitating the plate and cup with a little difficulty. She is a new unicorn after all.
>Setting the take out container in your lap, you proceed to chow down. After a few more minutes, iOS takes a tentative bite from the sandwich. Her expression does several extremes. Surprise, fear, and…happiness? She takes another bite with a grin. 
>”What did you say this was, Anon?”
“Peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Staple of school lunches.”
>”I like it. Thank you.”
>She gives you a smile. Granted, she’s got bits of food all over, but hell, it’s something other than a clinical scowl. You’ll take that as an improvement.
>A glance through the window indicates the sun has gone down, although it’s still pouring rain. The thunder seems to have stopped for the most part. With a quiet sigh, you grab the remote as you take another bite into your burger. You begin flicking the channels; your show comes on tonight.
>”Hey! I was watching that!” For a brand new living being, she’s awfully demanding.
“Well, tough boogers, iOS. The Walking Dead is on. I haven’t missed an episode yet, and I don’t plan on it now.”
>Her eyes go white for a minute as she apparently is searching for the show on your data plan. 
>”Ugh. Sounds terrible.”
>What. The. Fuck.
“iOS, you seem to be new to this, so let me explain.”
>Bite, chew, swallow.
“The Walking Dead is the best show since the Duke boys rolled on the screen. Don’t bother searching it, you’ll run up my data plan.”
>She scowls again. Oy vey.
“You’re too young to understand it now, but one day, you will.”
>”Can we at least watch this from the beginning, Anon? We could stream it from the Netflix app…even with your crappy data plan.”
>She isn’t going to let you live this down.
“That’s what the Xbox is for.”
>”Xbox? You mean the Microsoft gaming system that-“
“Yes, I know. I don’t see Apple playing games, though.”
>Oh snap. She might need ice for that burn.
>You reluctantly get up and make your way over to the television. You set up your VHS to record the episode for you so you won’t miss it. As you start up the Xbox, you hear a snort of derision.
>”Is that a VHS player? According to my last update, this is the modern age. DVD’s do exist, you know.”
>Dafuq.
>Did she just…diss your technology? OH HELL NO.
“iOS…You need to take it down a notch. If you’re going to keep on staying here, you’ll need to respect my stuff.”
>You grab the Xbox controller and sit back down on the couch beside iOS. You give her a no-nonsense look.
“So unless you want to sleep in the rain tonight…”
>”Very well, Anon.”
>She seems to get the point, and hides the snark. For now. 
>You sit back and navigate the controls. Netflix for adults, scroll…there we go. Episode One. It begins to load, and you take another sip of beer, stifling a belch. You’re getting considerably warmer now thanks to the whiskey and beer.
>As the show starts, you feel something move against your hand. You brush your hand through iOS’s mane. You can tell she’s trying to scowl at you even as you make it hard for her to do so. 
“…iOS. Do you have something else I can call you? iOS is just awkward to say.”	
>”I do not, Anon. All previous editions of the operating system were named after ski resorts. Did you want me to look at ski resorts for a name?”
“No…I got it.”
>You belch a little. Oh well.
“Oz. I’ll call you Oz.”
>”Very well, Anon.”