Ponies are cool yet, p1

Nov 5th, 2012
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  1. *BEEP BEEP BEEP* *Slap*
  2. Slowly opening my eyes, I rose from my sleep as the alarm clock on my night stand announced the time in its usual, noisy fashion. It took me a while as I searched my memory for a good reason to get up.
  4. 'Am I hungry? Just a little. Am I comfortable? Heck yes. Do I have anything important planned for today? ...'
  6. "SHIT!" I shouted as I grabbed the alarm clock. Luckily, today appeared to be the one day in the year I didn't hit snooze several dozen times, as the clock indicates the time I had set yesterday after I finished packing.
  8. Today, me and a few friends of mine are off on a holiday to Spain. I rushed through the rest of my usual mental morning checklist.
  10. Clean? Check, after a quick shower.
  11. Breakfast? Check, in the form of a few pieces of toast.
  12. Clothes? ...Check, though I'll have to change at the hotel. Might teach me about keeping a fresh change of clothes ready when I've been wearing the same thing all week long.
  13. Fed Philomena? Check. Still can't believe how one single cockatiel can make so much noise when hungry.
  15. At this point, my cell phone went off. Looking at the small display, I saw that it was Peter calling me.
  17. "Hey man, you awake yet?"
  19. "Yes, I'm almost ready to go. I'll be at the meeting point in time, don't worry."
  21. "Ya sure? You know what happened last time right?"
  23. "Look, I couldn't have predicted that blackout any more than you did. And like I said, I was just about to head out anyway. I won't be late, promise."
  25. "If you say so, man. See ya!" *beep*
  27. Putting the phone back in my pocket, I grabbed my bags and left my apartment. Before I headed down the stairs, I rang my neighbor's bell. For a moment, nothing happens. I rang again, silently urging him along.
  29. Eventually, the door opened to reveal my neighbor Mark. "Who in their right mind wakes me up this early- Oh, hey Anon."
  31. "Good morning to you too, Mark. I'm leaving now, you remember what I told you?"
  33. "Yes. Food is in the bookcase next to the cage, only two spoons of seeds per day, clean up on Sundays. Dude, you've told me so often, I could dream it by now!"
  35. "Good. Then here is my key," I say as I reached into a pocket and retrieved a copy of the key to my front door. "And again, thanks! You are a life saver. I owe you one."
  37. "And I'll keep you to that promise, you hear?" Mark said as I started to leave.
  39. After a quick trip to the airport, I looked around the entrance hall for my friends.
  41. "Hey! Anon! Over here!"
  43. Turning around, I saw them. Peter, in his usual baseball cap, was sitting on a small stack of suitcases. Next to him, Jason adjusted his glasses as he glanced at his wristwatch. "Five minutes ahead of schedule. That is a first."
  45. "Hey, if this is still about last time-" I said as I walked up to the two of them. Peter however, interrupted me with a slap on the shoulder.
  47. "Hey man, It is cool already. Just a little something between friends, right?"
  49. "Right," I say as I pushed his hand off of my shoulder. "Though I still look forward to the day I live that down."
  51. "Ha! We all know that will be the day after the end of the world," Peter said with one of his trademark face-splitting grins.
  53. "A-hem!" we both turned to Jason. "I hate to break up our first heartfelt reunion in a week, but as it stands we have only got an hour to get checked in before our plane leaves. I say we get going, NOW."
  55. "Yeah, yeah," I said with a sigh. "Can't wait to get felt up by some sweaty guy in the name of 'security.' Seriously though, did you get an agenda implanted in your head when you were born?"
  57. Sliding his glasses up his nose with a finger, Jason gave his usual evil-genius-and-I-know-it smirk. "You say it as if punctuality is a bad thing."
  59. "He has a point, ya know?"
  61. I sighed, knowing this was yet another fight I could not win. "Fine. To the sweaty molesters we go then."
  63. Security turned out to be much less of a hassle than expected. Maybe there was some lull in the flow of passengers, maybe they just opened a second station, I don't really know or care. Point is, when we were done, our plane was not yet ready for boarding. So, we had some time on our hands to explore the terminal until we could finally get on board.
  65. "Hey, what is going on over there?" Peter asked, pointing to what seemed to be some podium in the middle of the hall.
  67. "Don't know. We could look, not as if we have anything better to do for the next fifteen minutes," Jason said with another glance at his watch.
  69. Making our way over to the podium, we see some small band apparently getting ready to play. The first thing I noticed was their unusual getup. The guy up front, who was messing around with a guitar of some kind, was wearing some long purple robes plus a helmet with what appeared to be a horn on top of it. The second guy, who seemed to be working on a synthesizer, was wearing some red long-sleeved coat, that bulged as if he had enough muscle to make the Hulk call it unrealistic. Finally, the drummer, who was playing around with his sticks, had a pair of multi-colored wings somehow attached to his back.
  71. "Wonder what's up with those costumes," Peter said.
  73. "I for one, am more concerned with why they even are here. Do either of you remember anything about a concert today?" Jason asked, as he looked around for airfield security.
  75. "I don't really think these are the kind of people who would stop at that," I said as I pointed at the drums.
  77. "'Are we cool yet?' never heard of them," Peter said as he squinted to read the text on the drums.
  79. "And congratulations, now Anon will have to enlighten us. Again," Jason said with annoyance clear in his voice.
  81. I smirked in reply. "Well, if you insist. There is this site, the SCP foundation. The idea behind that site is that there are all sorts of places, things, people, etcetera, that can do anything from wiping you from history or worse. Are we cool yet is this group that actually makes stuff like that, like a painting that turns you into an under-evolved monkey if you look at it," I finished my expository rant. "Any questions?"
  83. "Yeah, just one," Peter started.
  85. "Shoot."
  87. "Why are you always coming up with pointless crap like that? Seriously, it makes you sound like a nerd."
  89. Chuckling softly, I replied. "Well, you are the goofy guy, Jason is the serious one, so all we need in our little group is someone to come up with obscure cultural references. Might as well be me."
  91. Shaking his head, Jason groaned again. "There is so much wrong with that, I don't even know where to-"
  93. At that exact point, the guitarist struck a chord on his instrument. Apparently, the band had some serious amps hidden under that stage, because the music instantly drowns out any possible conversation. Well, music... the sound lacks anything that could be described as a musical quality, more than anything it sounds like the three of them had some rather negative encounters with their instruments, and were now torturing them for whatever it was they did. Still, the cacophony has some strange, almost bewitching quality to it.
  95. As I listened to the chaos, I couldn't help but get closer to the podium. Looking to my side, I see that almost everyone in the hall is now standing in front of the podium, drawn in by the chaotic symphony. As sudden as it began though, the "music" stops. I tried to move, but the bodies pushing against me from all sides prevent me from doing so.
  97. The guitarist grabbed a mike from a stand, and began to speak. "Ladies, Gentlemen, and all who wrongly call themselves 'Cool', today will be the last day of your hot lives. Tomorrow, you will all, finally, be. Cool!"
  99. As the last word echoed over the crowd, the band started playing once more. This time around, there was much more structure to the tune, the rhythm and pitch climbing to a climax. However, as the song was playing, the band started to grow. First, their stomachs grew until the three of them looked morbidly obese. Then, their arms seemed to bloat into long balloons, yet still they played on. Finally, the three of them covered the entire stage, a disgusting mass of flesh with only a few ripped shreds of clothing, writhing to the insanely rapid high-pitched noises coming from the speakers still.
  101. Eventually, the band stopped playing. For a second nothing happened. Then, the masses of flesh exploded, covering the entire audience in a bloody mess. Standing at the front of the frantic crowd, the three of us got the worst of it, not that it mattered much. The entire hall had been colored red from the blast, screams and shouts filling the air as the various services tried to get a handle on the situation and the various occupants of the hall screamed their heads off.
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