Surface of the Sun 1 (A Day in the Life.)

>"BEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP."
"FUCK."
>You groan and reach out, fumbling blindly for that magi-mechanical bastard of an alarm clock.
>A little move-in gift from Twilight, bless her crazy soul.
>Right now, though, you wanted to grab the bastard and burn it.
>Instead, you reach out and gently tap the top, turning off the alarm.
>You let out a quiet sigh and open your eyes, ready to g-
"AAARRRRGH."
>The Sun.
>Your old nemesis.
>You put the heels of your hands to your eyes and sit up, cursing as you stumble out of your bed.
>This, you muse, must be your punishment for going out to drink with Vinyl and her buddies last night.
>You stop cursing and lower your hands, looking up at the sun with a sneer on your face.
"I swear to God, before I die I am going to find a way to fuck you in the ass, you glowing bastard."
>The Sun, of course, doesn't reply.
>You yawn and stretch, scratching at the back of your neck.
>You hated mornings in Canterlot.
>If you didn't know better, you'd SWEAR that the sun shined light DIRECTLY into your fucking window every single morning.
>You grunt and get up, making your way to your tiny, immaculate bathroom.
>You might be poor and living in a shitty apartment, but you'd be damned if you'd live in a dirty apartment.
>You start brushing your teeth, humming to yourself.
>Today's the day, Anonymous.
>Today's the day you make something of yourself.
>Today's the day you get out of the rut that you've been marching in your entire life.
>Today's the day you land yourself a career.
>You look in the mirror and snort.
>Yeah, right.



>You put on your pants and shrug on your shirt and jacket, humming to yourself as you go.
>Today's the day, you'd tell yourself. Every day.
>Even back home, you kept telling yourself, one day you'll get out of your dead-end job and just go, somewhere.
>Just get off the grid, go see the beauty the world had to offer.
>But you had bills to pay, or friends to help, duties and responsibilities that you couldn't abandon.
>So you stayed in the job you hated, so you could get money to pay bills and buy car and other shit that you didn't actually need.
>That was your life, and you were dying in it one day at a time.
>Then it happened.
>You were sitting on your couch, relaxing and playing some Skyrim, when everything just...exploded.
>You didn't know it at the time, but a certain purple mare had been experimenting with teleportation magic, and had torn you from your world and into hers.
>To your point of view, you'd blinked, and when you'd opened your eyes you were sitting in a circle of chalk with a tiny purple horse neighing at you.
>Needless to say, you freaked the fuck out.
>You'd seen the show, of course. Who hadn't? But the idea that this was a real thing, a real place, was just too much to take in.
>Twilight, fortunately, kept her head, cast a translation spell, and explained that she had fucked up, big time.
>She hadn't the foggiest of ideas on how to get you home or where you'd come from, even.
>You didn't know shit about magic, after all.
>You had to get used to the idea that magic existed at all.
>So Twilight offered to send a letter to her Princess.


>The letter was returned with the equivalent of a shrug.
>Celestia didn't know how Twilight had done it, or what a human even was.
>And she wasn't about to tear multiple holes in reality to try and find out.
>So you were stuck here, in Equestria.
>And you were sort of okay with that.
>No more rut, after all.
>Twilight offered to let you stay at her house and show you Equestrian life.
>You met her friends, hit it off with one of them, and had some fun with the others.
>You partied with Pinkie, you raced with Rainbow Dash, you drank with Applejack, you'd see Fluttershy and her animals, and you'd explain human fashion to Rarity.
>You lived, you laughed, you forgot home, forgot the terrible dullness of it all.
>You stayed in Ponyville for a year, lazing around and freeloading off of Twilight, before you decided to change something.
>You went looking for a job, a way to be useful.
>And that's when you fell into the rut again.
>Twilight and her friends were accepting of you, hell, one of them even LOVED you, but the other ponies...
>They weren't so accepting.
>Terrified of you, was more accurate. Terrified or disgusted.
>You'd go out, every day, and go looking for a job. And every night, you'd be disappointed, and go drink yourself near to death with AJ.
>It was the same, every day and every night.
>The dreaded rut, the accursed attraction of the routine.
>You despaired, and your friends could sense it.
>It was Twilight who suggested that you move to Canterlot to follow your ambitions.
>To make something of yourself.
>You latched onto the idea like a life line.
>She...didn't take it so well.


>There was a fight, full of drama and shouting and words you didn't mean but couldn't take back.
>The fight might have been the impetus you needed to break out.
>You left Ponyville, angry, and made your way to Canterlot.
>Here was the capital of Pony civilization! The jewel of Equestria! Here, surely, a strange, talented creature could make his mark on the world!
>Here you could live your dream! You could make a living doing something you wanted, something you loved!
>Become a painter, or a writer. A fashion designer, even. Those would suit you.
>You had always enjoyed making things orderly, beautiful.
>Making things right.
>Your sojourn to Canterlot freed you from your Ponyville rut.
>And catapaulted you feet first into your next hellhole.
>Every day, you'd get up, get dressed and cleaned and groomed.
>And you'd go outside.
>And get shat on verbally, figuratively, and sometimes literally by the vaunted Canterlot ponies.
>To them, you were a beast, a monstrous alien who played at being a pony.
>Many of them refused to offer you service in their stores, let alone hire you.
>Speaking to you was out of the question.
>You'd have draft stallions knock you out of the way in the street, haughty mares whispering about you behind your back, the whole nine yards.
>To them, you were not a he, full of thoughts and dreams and hopes.
>You were an it, terrifying, strange, and probably dangerous.
>The only pony you'd met who was worth shit in Canterlot was Vinyl Scratch and her best friend, Octavia.
>They'd set you up with your current apartment, under a landlord who didn't ask to many questions and only bothered you for rent.
>It wasn't ideal, but it was life.



>You shake your head to clear it of those sad, nostalgic thoughts.
>You didn't have time for things like depression.
>Things would get better. They had to, after all.
>You sigh and put on your hat.
>Canterlot was always either hot as fuck or cold as shit.
>With the sun always so close, it was like a sauna to you, and you wore a hat to keep your face cool.
>You had two job interviews today.
>Your first was at a candy shop near the Royal Guard's barracks.
>Your second was something you tried every week, without success.
>An acting part in the Canterlot Theatre.
>You knew you'd never get the role, no matter how well you could deliver lines.
>You just weren't a pony.
>But you went anyway.
>The Theatre ponies, for whatever reason, weren't complete cunts to you.
>They knew they could never let you play in a show, but they enjoyed watching you perform.
>They were ponies of art, and they knew that appearance had little to no bearing on skill.
>They'd even given you a small job, helping them clean up after big shows.
>You had a knack for organization and you were almost obssessive when it came to cleanliness.
>But the first one was really important.
>An interview with a candy selling pony whose name you always forgot. You had to meet her in...
>You glance at the alarm.
>12 minutes.
>Fuck.
>FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.
>FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.
>You kick open your door and start running.

Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hi54WXIoDas
>Fuck no, not again.
>NOT AGAIN.
>You always, ALWAYS missed the first interview of the day.
>It was part of the goddamn rut.
>Not today.
>Not to-Goddamn-day.
>You were going to make it, by God.
>Ponies start gasping and scoffing as you sprint down the Canterlot streets with the speed of an enraged Kenyan.
>Tiny, pastel-colored horses dive out of the way as you sprint down the streets.
>They aren't moving out of the way fast enough.
>YOU aren't moving fast enough.
>You vault over a stationary noble pony, apologizing as your back foot slams into his back.
"Sorrydon'thavethetimegottagofastandyou'reintheway!"
>"AAAAAAAAHHHHH! Somepony stop this ruffian!"
>You hear a clattering of hooves behind you, and you speed up.
>Policeponies later, interview now.
>You are NOT going to be late again.
>You watch a pony peddler push his cart into your way and narrow your eyes.
>Time to vault this thing like a badass.
>You jump...
>And trip, slamming into the poor pony's precious produce.
>"MY CABBAGES!"
"SorryI'llpayyoubacklater!"
>You scramble to your feet, brushing off bits of cabbage as you start running again.
>You're gonna make it.
>Holy shit, you're gonna make it.
>Ahead, you see ponies come to a stop, some staring at you, some staring at some crazy parade going on in the neighboring street.
>You're way past caring about it.
>You plow into the ccrowd of gaping ponies like a wrecking ball, leaping over the stationary ones, ducking and weaving around the ones who try to stop you.
>You glance behind you at the police ponies following you, grinning as they get tied up in the crowd.
>That's right, Fate, Anonymous gets the better of you tod-
>You slam right into another pony and here a quiet, "Oooph."



>You trip over your poor collision victim, sprawling to the ground in a pile of awkward limbs.
>Fuck.
>FUCK.
>You sigh, still face down in the dirt.
>You were crazy to think you'd be able to break such a time honored tradition of being late to your first interview of the day.
>You can't escape a rut, why even try.
>You prop yourself up, shaking your head, as you start to sit up.
>Hmmm, that's weird.
>You're surrounded by ponies.
>You must have stumbled into their crazy parade trying to ditch your pursuit.
>That might explain why they're all looking at you like you just shat on their porch.
>Normally, this kind of thing doesn't bother you.
>You just brush off the horrified stares and go about your business, trying to blend into the background.
>But you're sick of normal.
"The fuck y'all lookin' at?"
>The ponies continue to look at you, jaws dropping in terror.
>Oh shit, maybe you ran into an old pony or something.
>You grunt, annoyed, and turn around to apologize to your unfortunate victim.
"Sorry about that, I was in a h-"
>Oh shit.
>Ooooooooooh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.
>SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.
>That is not an old pony.
>OR MAYBE IT IS, BUT IT IS THE WRONG KIND OF OLD PONY.
>Rubbing her head and climbing unsteadily to her hooves is the absolute WORST pony you could have tackled while running from the pone-po.
>Her size, the fur, the wings, the hair, the jewels.
>"What...what happened?"
>You just clotheslined Princess Celestia.


>As soon as Celestia speaks, the babble starts up all at once.
>"That monster just attacked the Princess!"
>"It's an assassin from Tartarus!"
>"Discord's back, and he's making monsters to kill Celestia!"
>"It must be a changeling agent!"
>"The horror! THE HORROR!"
>"Quick, make sure it doesn't get away!"
"Wait, no, I didn't mean t-"
>Ponies begin to pile onto you by the dozens, shouting and screaming about 'protecting the Princess.'
>You scream and tuck into yourself as multiple candy colored hooves slam into your backside.
>The press of furry bodies chokes you as the ponies swarm you like bees defending their Queen.
>This is how it ends.
>Stampeded to death by a horde of pastel colored cartoon horses.
>Move to Canterlot, she said.
>You might be happy, she said.
>"Please, my little ponies, stop! I know of this creature. I am sure he did not mean to hurt me."
>Relief.
>Blessed, sweet relief.
>Hooves cease pounding into your backside almost at once, and you gasp and roll over.
"Oh thank God."
>The ponies back off of you as you gasp and sit up.
>It feels like you just got run over by a car made of tiny stones and hatred.
>You glance around, still woozy from your short lived lynching.
>A white blurry thing comes into view, speaking with that same kind, soft voice from before.
>"Are you alright?"
"Still breathing."
>"Good. I'm sorry for that, truly. My ponies were only scared for my well-being. Can you stand?"
>You struggle to your feet, grunting.
"Yeah, I'll be okay."
>"Also good. Now, where ARE you going in such a hurry?"


"I-"
>Holy fuck spears out of FUCKING NO WHERE.
"HOLY SHIT WHA-"
>"GUARDS, please. Stand down. I'm fine, I assure you."
>The guards mumble among themselves, but obey her immediately.
>Celestia walks towards you, fluttering her wings.
>"The hooman won't hurt me. Will you?"
"Nope, I like being not-stabbed."
>She lets out a polite chuckle.
>"I was unaware you were visiting Canterlot. I've heard much about you. Where were you going in such a hurry?"
"I've actually been here a while. Trying to...well, it's a long story."
>Celestia smiles.
>"Trust me, I have nothing but time. Come, walk with me. I was on my way to visit the Guard Quarters before returning to the Castle."
>You look around at the still-surprised pony crowd, and start walking after the Princess, in front of the guards.
"Sure, I guess."
>The Princess begins speaking to her ponies, assuring them that she's alright, and they don't need to worry about you, and that the peddler pony will be reimbursed for his precious cabbage, etc.
>You begin to zone out a bit.
>"So, your long story?"
>You snap out of it.
"Sorry, Princess. Yeah, story. I'm just...looking for a job. I don't have much luck with that, actually. And I was going to be...well I guess I am, now, late to an interview."
>She gets a strange look on her face.
>"A job?"
"Yep. Something I don't hate doing every day, you know? I feel like I've sort of been in a...well, a rut my whole life. I want to change that."
>That look gets even stranger.
>"I...I can understand that, yes. I have a proposition, Anonymous. A job offer."
"...Really?"
>"Yes, indeed. How would you like to be the official Royal Butler?"