Claw in Hand - Part 1

>Anonymous's log, stardate badidillywidilly 1020304.

>Day 1825 in Equestria.

>Basically year 5.

>Year 6 starts today. Happy New Year to you.

>So begins another year spent in Horseyland, with the many multicolored horses of Ponyville.

>What better way to open it up than with a good game of sitting on your couch knocking a ball against the wall.

>Figuratively, it's all you've been doing the past couple of years.

>Pwap.

>That is the noise the ball makes and you are not changing your mind.

>Pwap.

>You tell yourself you like these quiet moments.

>During your first year on this planet (dimension? plane?), not a day went by when you weren't being harassed or oogled by the ruling equine population.

>Pwap.

>At first, they were mostly scared of this strikingly handsome bipedal lifeform who had just appeared in a rural town not far from the seat of power.

>That quickly turned into curiosity, manifesting itself as a bombardment of admirers that camped outside your front door.

>That died down eventually, but you remember a sense of excitement at having to manage daily life as a sort of celebrity.

>Pwap.

>There were the asinine questions, the hundreds of notes slipped under your door, the gross invasions of personal space.

>You recall one brave little colt even tried to climb down your chimney.

>You also recall he never recovered from the soot inhalation. Poor thing.

>Pwap.

 

>Those days are long gone now, you remind yourself.

>Nobody wants to see the amazing new animal anymore. You pretty much ran out of pezazz after you lost that arm-wrestling match with the griffon.

>A couple of the little ponies stuck around to be friends, but you've not seen them in months.

>Which, you remind yourself, is completely fine.

>Pwap.

>After all, you spent years in college getting out of social meetups under the pretense of being an introvert.

>You're not lonely. Not really.

>Pwap.

>. . .

>Pwap.

>Alright, you miss them and you're bored out of your fucking mind.

>You just wish something would happen. Anything.

>You grumpily give the little ball one last toss

>Pwap

>and catch it again.

>It faces your thoughtful stare as a rubber ball should.

>You wonder what the hell is in this rubber, because it's lasted a lot longer than the rubber balls they sold in malls back when you were a kid.

>With a calculated look, you throw the ball to your right with more oomph than usual.

>PWAP.

>The ball hits a chair and ricochets off at an angle, smashing through your front window.

>CRASH TINKLE TINKLE

>"Ow!"

 

>Well, you were asking for something to happen right?

>Now you can add assault with a deadly weapon to your porfolio.

>Cursing as you drag on a jacket, you scramble to the door.

>Hopefully you can convince the pony outside that they were not the target of a rubber ball assassination.

>Because the last thing you need is another reason for ponies to start avoiding you, right?

>Dammit inner critic, shut the fuck up for a second, I'm trying to be a nice person.

>You open the door and the apology dies on your lips.

"Twilight?"

>"Anonymous! Owww. Did you do this?"

>Nodding, you bend down to scoop the rubber ball off the ground as you try your best to look sheepish.

"Yeah sorry. I kinda got carried away with this thing. They sure can bounce far, you know? They don't make them like they used to."

>The purple unicorn fixes you with an amused eye as she kneads a hoof against her other eye.

>Holy shit did you just punch out Twilight Sparkle with a rubber ball.

"Aw crap, I'm really sorry. Did I do any damage?"

>"Ugh, it's ok. You probably only gave me a black eye." She says with a smile.

>You can't help but smile back, even if you are a little afraid of inadvertantly causing injury to the one pony you trust.

 

>Twilight was with you from the start, being the friend you desperately needed upon arriving in Equestria.

>She set up a meeting with the ruling monarch (some princessey thing), gave you a place to stay at the Library, and even did most of the paperwork for your house.

>You didn't ask for any of it, yet she provided out of the kindness in her own heart.

>She was also the last pony you've seen in months

>And you just beaned her in the eye with a rubber ball.

>Do you perhaps sense a segue into real social interaction?

"Here, let me make it up to you. A daisy sandwich, my treat."

>"Oh!" Another smile flashes across her face. "Well I guess I can take a lunch with a friend over a visit to the hospital any day."

"Hey, you can always slap the bread over your eye if it starts swelling."

>"Aren't you supposed to do that with meat, though?"

"Maybe. We won't know until we try, right?"

>You hear her stifle a giggle as you lock your front door and lead the way to the nearest restaurant.

>"Do we have to take the rubber ball?" She asks.

"Oh. Uh yeah, hold on a second."

>You ditch the rubber ball in the potted plants outside your front windows.

>The wilting flowers now make room for shards of glass from the broken window and the offending rubber ball.

>You'll fix it later. You have a mare to feed.