the slowest writefag-Pest Problems (In Progress, I think)

>It hasn't been easy, but you've finally managed to secure a piece of property to live on in Ponyville. To rent, that is.
>You don't have very many neighbors, since this little house of yours is situated on the cheapest land available, right off the edge of the Everfree.
>If you look into the distance, you can see the night-time lights of Ponyville, as well as the Apple family's farm in the other direction
>Evening is falling, and you declare to your nearly empty building that it's time to go to sleep.
>Taking the advice of the pony whom you're renting this place from, you decide to leave your porchlight on, to deter some of the smaller rodents and such from entering your house. Not very many residents have lived here recently.
>after it becomes completely dark outside, you head to bed
>it doesn't take long before you hear something strange
>hushed whispers and slight bumping noises are emanating from your closet
>Shit
>of all the things that could happen, it has to be voices coming from your closet
>you reach next to your bed and grab the flashlight that you had brought with you, in case any raccoons or things had to be shooed away in your first few nights
>you click it on and go out into the hall
>you can clearly hear the voices now, but you are still unsure of what exactly they are saying
>you decide to fuck it, and fling the door open, shining the flashlight beam inside
"Lepi, I thought I told you to keep the light off for n-"
>a head pops out of the pile of clothes that you had dumped into the closet
>you are greeted by a pair of eyes which reflect the beam of your flashlight almost as effectively as mirrors
>the owner of these eyes appears to be a pony, but with a collar of down that looks like that of an expensive coat, and ears that appear to be made of feathers
>her pupils expand until they nearly fill her entire eye, glittering with refraction because of their hexagonal shape
"mmph, mm nnf!"
>a second, smaller one of these creatures appears from the clothing pile, one of your t-shirts draped over her head and a pair of your underwear in her mouth
>like the first, this one stares into your flashlight beam with great intensity
>her mouth drops open, your boxers falling atop the pile with a gaping hole in them
>you notice then that most of the clothes in the closet are filled with holes, many of them completely ruined
>you drop your flashlight in shock
>the two that had been inhabiting your closet seem to regain their consciousness, proceeding to scream and barrel you over in an attempt to flee the scene
>by the time you get back up with flashlight in hand, they are both out your front door and gone out into the night
>you sigh deeply and turn back to your clothes that had been attacked
>lifting up a shirt of yours, you can see numerous fist-sized holes
>after a thorough search through the rest of your garments, you find only a handful of items that aren't completely unwearable
>fuck
>you'll have to take this up with someone tomorrow
>for now, you double-check that you've locked your doors and return to sleep
>the next morning
>you wake up to a series of knocks on your front door
>who could be knocking this early in the—
>it's 1:30 PM
>begrudginly, you get up out of bed and throw on some clothes as you pass by your closet
>"I'm coming!" you shout as you half-stagger toward your door and fumble with your deadbolt
>upon opening your door, you are confronted with an orange pony in a stetson hat
"Howdy. Anon, is it?"
>"Yeah...?" you reply, not sure where this pony is going with this
"Name's Applejack. I was just stopping by to ask, since you're mah new closest neigbor and all, iff'n you've been havin' similar problems to us Apples."
>she tilts her head a little to one side
"Although mah question's already been answered, it seems."
>she points a hoof at your chest
>you look down to see that a large hole is situated right through the center of your shirt
>FUCK
"Didja happen to see the culprits?"
>"I, uh, kind of?" you stammer in reply, trying to strecth the hole across your chest shut
"Well, if ya do, be sure to give us a holler, sugarcube. "
>you shut the door and turn around, cursing your luck
>You're going to figure out who or what that was last night

I'll keep going on this later. This is fun.