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- >as before, you are still dead
- >BonBon and Lyra are going at it, and you are trapped in this darkened room
- >could be worse
- >you could be a prinny
- >you chuckle at your own joke, when something surprising happens
- >"Lyra...do you hear laughter?"
- "huehuehuehuehuehuehue"
- >this is too good, now
- >"Lyra, stop...I hear laughter, I'm sure of it!"
- >you waltz over to the couple, and begin to play the bongo on BonBon's bum
- >she freezes up and shrieks, as you actually make contact with her body time and time again
- >"Lyra! HELP MEEE!!! IT'S SOOO COOOLD!"
- >Lyra stares at you, dumbfounded as you flash her the biggest shit eating grin you can, your face literally stretching to hold it.
- >and you stop
- >Lyra hits the lamp, turning it on as BonBon shivers and cries into her shoulder
- >the light, however, slams you into the nearest wall
- >Lyra glares at you, mouthing:
- >"this is what you get, flankhole!"
- "Yeah, well a happy birthday to you too."
- >maybe sitting in here with Lyra and company wasn't the way to go.
- >maybe
- >just maybe
- >being able to prank p0nies wherever they may be without being caught or held responsible was the way to go
- >you just had to remember what apparently constituted as rules to you now
- >light can hit you, you can touch things in a dark room, you are cold to the touch, and Lyra can physically move you
- >well as long as no more new things popped up, you were sure that this was going to work out juuust fine.
- 1/X
- >you walk up to the window, which was now well lit, and press a hand against it
- >you went through
- >testing the wall nearby, that was also lit, you found it solid
- >another rule: cannot pass through solid lit objects, or maybe its just that glass can be passed
- >whatever the fuck
- >I don't give a damn
- >you hop out the window, giving Lyra the one fingered salute, and land at the base of her house
- >she lived pretty near the center of town, so who else was nearby?
- >you had wasted darn near 2 hours, so hopefully everyp0ny else had left your godawful funeral
- >you could see lights on at Twilight's library
- >close enough, and a likely victi-uh er, i mean
- >...
- >yeah, victim
- >you swooce across P0nyville like some old forgotten vigilante
- "SWOOCE, MOTHABUCKA, DO YOU MOVE IT!?"
- >you can yell as loud as you please, but no real sound occurs.
- >it's kind of liberating, actually
- >screaming and hollering [spoiler]"HOLLAHOLLAJOHNMADDENJOHNMADDEDAEIOUAEIOUAEIOU"[/spoiler] you make it to the library tree
- >one room has a window today, that surely wasn't there before
- >who cares
- >you enter through the wall just to check
- >yes, if it's dark, it's fair game for your ghost shit
- >ghosthax.exe bitches
- >you spy spike, sleeping upon the sill as the sun sets
- >getting alliterative up in this
- >and Twilight is moving about, writing and gathering certain books
- >as you investigate, you find these are all books on you
- >you helped Twilight with all the research you could think of
- >a shame you never thought of anything medical
- >which is, sadly, why you are now a ghost
- 2/X
- >you can hear Twilight sniffing occasionally
- >is she sick?
- >nope, she's crying like there's no tomorrow
- [spoiler]hey, for once the phrase sounds right![/spoiler]
- >"I...I couldn't save-snff-himm..."
- >"I-I-I'm the smartest p-po-ony around, and I didn't even think about his m-medical histo-ry-yy-yyy!"
- >she wails on like this as you watch
- >phew
- >at least you weren't the only one who forgot
- >not even the dead know peace from this guilt, however
- >knowing that she blamed herself for your death really rustled you in a bad way
- >and you thought you had no jimmies!
- >you put a hand on her shoulder, but it passes through
- >she stops sniffling and bemoaning her fate for a second, however, as the cold from your touch sets in
- >shivering, she sends for spike to set the sill closed
- >all alliterative up in this
- >that's when she notices that the window is closed, and that she has just woken Spike for nothing
- >"A-anon?"
- >wat
- >"Is that you? I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."
- >jegus this mare.
- >so smart, so dumb.
- >it isn't her fault you died
- >sort of
- >she looks to the pile of books and then trots up the stairs to bed, extinguishing the light as she went
- >perfect timing
- >you couldn't properly prank her after the >feels she just put you through
- >instead, you walk right up the stairs, and hug her torso
- >she flinches at your touch, as you are still colder than the comfort of putting the man who murdered you behind bars
- "It's not your fault."
- >she doesn't hear you, but smiles as you let her go
- >she lies down in her bed and Spike resumes his curled nap
- 3/X
- >time to make it right
- >you swooce down the stairs (this has become your favorite word) and snatch up a quill and an empty book
- >you write in some sappy stuff about how its ok, and not her fault, and sign it with your thumbprint
- >as authentic as an autist's OC
- >still alliterative
- >and offensive!
- >finishing that, you jot down what you could remember about human anatomy and health, from medicine to edibles, to diseases and sexual reproduction
- >you add a drawing of a woman with big tits
- >classy
- >this continues through the night until the breaking of dawn forces the quill out of your dark grip
- >well, when she sees this, she'll see whats what
- >and then you won't feel bad about pranking her
- >you almost warn her, but that's totally against the entire point of pranking her
- >you are anonymous
- >and in death, noone will be able to tell its you anyway
- >so in a way, you kept your anonymity
- >swag.
- >you walk to the Western side of the library and promptly let yourself out through the wall again
- >ok, now that its day, this is gonna get tricky
- >all you've really got is cold feet
- >and all you can give is the cold shoulder
- >and your puns are bad
- >you should feel bad
- >you instead decide to go to Apple Acres
- >its suitably shady in the orchards
- >not alliterative enough
- >you walk across the path to the Apple family farm, and you can just barely see Applejack and Big Macintosh getting ready to buck apples
- >time to get ready
- 4/X
- >Big Mac rears back for the kick
- >and you intercept it with your spine!
- >good god, its great that you're a ghost
- >alliterative enough
- >he stops as he hits the tree, a look of horror etched on his face
- >one apple falls down
- >in the shade
- >you snatch it out of the air
- "Now I'll take this apple..."
- "and EAT IT!"
- >you bite into the apple, and spit it into the ground as fast as you could
- >it tastes like the lingering butt stench in a toilet stall nobody flushed!
- >and that's pretty bad!
- >Big mac instead opts to, at this point, scream
- >"BWOOOAAAHH!"
- >that boy ain't raght, ah tell you hwat
- >you drop the apple and take off as Applejack looks over to see what the fuss was about
- >you turn and walk away backwards so you can catch her reaction
- >she's laughing quite openly at her brother for being such a puss
- >mission accomplished
- >your next mission could be anywhere
- >at any time at all
- >down here in the deep blue seeeeaaa
- >but the laughter puts a spring in your step as you skip back down to P0nyville
- >it's gonna be one wild ride
- 5/5
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