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- "Heh. Relax, I was just joking"
- >You expertly dodge her feeble flailing fists
- >"IT'S NOT FUNNY" she bellowed, keeping up her assault.
- "Ow, ow, ow! Look, stop! Can we talk about this? It was just a prank!"
- >The barrage of petty punches stop, and you get a glance at the tears in her eyes.
- >"A prank?! A fucking prank? You prick, who puts BLUE HAIR DYE in shampoo as a PRANK?"
- >You snigger internally, though don't dare change your expression.
- "Aww but it does suit you! Really! Loo-"
- >A tirade of angry tears cut across you.
- >"How the fuck am I supposed to show up to work like THIS?! I'll be rejected from every meeting! Laughed at! Fired!"
- >Okay, this over-reaction was a little too much.
- "H-hey, I'm sor-"
- >"Oh you're sorry?! Great! Too bad that doesn't solve this fucking crime against humanity on my scalp!"
- >She tugs a strand of her short hair.
- >"How'd you fucking like it if..."
- >She falters.
- >"Oh ho."
- >A sick smile slithers into existence on her sharp face.
- "What?"
- >"Let us see how you like pink hair, you prancing prick!"
- >At once, she twists the silver ring on her middle finger.
- >Bright light radiates fantastically from it, completely startling you.
- "What the hell is that?"
- >No answer as your girlfriend closes her eyes and starts waving her hand in midair
- >It was like she was finger-painting, using the glowing ring to draw shapes and symbols in the air.
- "Just what..." you begin, but the chanting starts.
- >The affect is immediate.
- >You start deflating, or at least the equivalent of.
- >Bones, skin all shifting to gain a better hold on your frame.
- >Pink hairs sprout up your arms, your hands balling into uncontrolled fists.
- "No stop, please!" you cry out.
- >The maniacal grin displaying under the blue hair was down-right frightening.
- >"Oh don't worry, I'm just 'pranking' you!" She sneers.
- >The chant continues: Dye my hair, make me swear, but at least I'm not a little mare!
- >What was in that blue dye? Did it compromise her brain?
- "Just what... the hell... kind of prankin' ish..."
- >Your speech slowly slurs as your tongue reduces in size.
- >"And I just asked you the same question. Time for a taste of your own medicine, I think."
- >Your brain couldn't decide on the more pressing issue: Your girlfriend's secret sorcery? Or the continual sprouting of thin candy-pink hairs on your flesh?
- "M-magic?" you manage to wheeze as the feeling of giant rubber bands compressing your lungs reaches critical.
- >"Oh please, if you ever actually LISTENED to me, you'd know all this stuff! I'm sure I told you what I did to my previous Ex. Oh, by the way, I'm breaking up with you."
- >Your immediate logical rebuttal about restoring her hair color with magic is swallowed when the world flips.
- >Gravity has finally pushed your balance to the limit, and you topple over to see tiny pink-coated legs kicking in the air.
- >Uh oh.
- >The area above your rear suddenly tickles.
- "S-stop..." comes your feeble whine.
- >This battle was long lost, though.
- >"Nope. I get blue hair, you get pink. It's only fair."
- >Silky strands of something snake out from above your rump
- >The growth of a tail was potentially the most disgusting sensation you've ever endured.
- >By now you were no more than 3ft tall, your bones and flesh sculpted as easily as wet clay.
- >Pink fills your peripheral vision.
- >"I think we're done here."
- >Stiff and sore, you open a bleary eye to see someone with blue hair examining closely.
- >"Now think about how much I've just unfairly compromised your life, Prancing Prick, and how your prank was equally as hurtful."
- >Prancing Prick? Somehow this phrase clicked with you instantly, almost as if...
- "What did you do to my name?!"
- >Blue bitch's shit-eating grin was enough of an answer.
- >"You're grounded - stay here while I pack up my things. Oh, and also..."
- >You look into her face trying hard not to break down into panicked tears.
- >"With a smaller frame comes a smaller brain. The longer you stay like that, the more your mind and memories will adapt. Transformation 101: Never change someone into a form that can't support a mind, less you wish them to lose it. Just be thankful you're not a hairbrush."
- >And with that, she whips around and storms out the room.
- >The slam of the door reverberates around the room as dramatically as her threat.
- >Cold sweat oozes from under your coat, your mouth instantly drying out.
- >Shit. We need an escape plan, and fast.
- >At that moment you spot a game disc lying label-down near the TV.
- >Okay: First you need to assess the damage.
- >Stumbling with every moment, your now-solid fists clatter against the wooden floor.
- >You successfully manage to examine your reflection on the disc's metal side.
- >Ho-leee shit. Well, you were certainly pink. And small. And a pony.
- >Fighting the urge to faint takes gusto. Ponies, man. Why a pony?
- >A sudden flashback engulfs your mind.
- >Laying in bed, post-sex.
- >Your girlfriend, buzzing with hormones, keeps rattling on about her childhood.
- >Your brain wanted sleep. She wanted a list of all your childhood heroes.
- >She definitely mentioned a love for My Little Pony then, but why...?
- >A foreign movement on your head jerks you back to life.
- >Instinctively you swat at it, only to clunk your head with a hoof.
- "Ouch!" you squeak out-loud.
- >That voice is... adorable.
- >The source of movement rings loudly in your ear. Because it WAS your ear.
- >No: it's the ponies ear. Not yours.
- >Armed with the knowledge that you were now a pink pony called Prancing Prick, your heart hammers fiercely.
- "Let me out! I can't reach the handle!" you yell at the foreboding, solid white door.
- >Only the sounds of scraping and mind thumbs diffuse under the door.
- >She really was packing up.
- >Mama was leaving. No, what? Your GF was leaving!
- >Determined not to give up, you relentlessly buck the closed door with your hind legs.
- >Despite your size, this approach makes an impressive banging noise.
- "Okay joke's over!" you call, voice reaching a new plateau of high.
- >The sounds of packing stop.
- >"Prancing Prick, stop. I forbid you to talk or move until you learn your lesson."
- >The sound of your name acts as a trigger, and immediately your mouth seals and your rump meets the floor.
- >Had you learned your lesson yet?
- >Well, if being absolutely terrified was something to go by, then yes.
- >Rooted to the spot, you debate with yourself.
- >Pranks are funny!
- >But... why?
- >Because it's enjoyable to tease others!
- >But... it's cruel to cause them distress.
- >It's only a harmless prank!
- >But... how long will it take to reverse?
- >Days? A month? Hmm...
- >Perhaps... did you over do it?
- >Was there certain pranking boundaries?
- >Your GF certainly wasn't happy. In fact, you made her cry.
- >Why would you do something to hurt her?
- >This was getting hard to process.
- >Okay: Altering someone's appearance = bad
- >Pranks = bad
- >So, if you like pranks... then do you = a bad person?
- >It all started making sense.
- >Silent tears leak over your sleek, bubblegum pink face.
- >What you'd done wasn't fair.
- >The last thing you remember was bitter self-resentment.
- >Where were you now? It takes a few seconds to collect your bearings.
- >So soft, and comfy...
- >You lift a lazy eyelid to look around.
- >Was this... someone's leg?
- >"Oh, you're awake."
- >That voice. Your muscles tense - you're so totally still in trouble.
- "Hey there, ma-" you begin, but catch yourself.
- >There's silence.
- "Where am I?" you ask in a sleepy voice.
- >"Still in the living room. I found you asleep behind the door."
- >Did you fall asleep? You can't remember...
- >"Listen. I'm sorry. I took this a bit too far. I may - potentially - have PMS."
- >The timeless excuse.
- >"I saw myself when packing in the mirror, got a laugh. I understand what you were trying to accomplish. I was still mad, but damn. You broke my resolve."
- >Your pink-coated ears twitch as you listen in.
- >"Annnyway, I came back to apologize, and you were sleeping. So, I picked you up, poured some wine, ate some chocolate and have been petting you. I have to say, it's very... therapeutic."
- >At least she's happy, you think bitterly.
- "Can I be me again then? I'm real sorry." you pipe up.
- >She stops sipping from her glass and gives you a furtive look.
- >"Maybe. Actually, no. I'm digging the pink. I've still not forgiven you."
- >Your heart sinks, but then instantly soars as warm hands caress your back.
- >"Let me pet you some more, then we'll see." she instructs.
- >Luxurious fingers scratch your spine, as if quelling an itch that wasn't there.
- >The ticklish sensation sends tingles to the roof of your mouth, and the bliss causes you to drool.
- "I... love you" you manage to breathe dreamily
- >She just giggles.
- >"I know you do, Prancing Prick."
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