Once again, I'm reminded of how much I hate hard work. Right now, they have me repairing a small storage shed that got damaged in the storm last night, while we had all been partying. Applejack is still gone on her delivery, so Big MacIntosh and I are the only ones here, along with that older pony who I think is still inside. As such, I consider the giant red pony to be my new boss until Applejack returns.

He's very quiet, responding mostly in short sentences that are maybe five or six words at the most. That makes it very easy for me to work, since now I don't have Applejack trying to talk to me every few minutes. Big MacIntosh actually trusts me to get the job done, as he rarely sticks around for more than a minute before he moves on to complete other chores around the farm.

I regard the shed in front of me. There's a jagged hole on the top of it that is slightly singed, likely because of lightning. I don't think these ponies know what lightning rods are, because I have yet to see one. Though...that makes me wonder how this village hasn't burnt down yet. I swear, if it's something as stupid as a "lightning repelling spell" or something, I'm going to groan.

To fix this, I'm probably going to have to remove the singed boards from the top of the shed, because burnt wood is much weaker than usual, and that's never good for a storage shed. Winter is coming, so we need the food supplies to be nice and protected from the elements.

I pick up the hammer from the ground next to me and use the curved portion to pry the broken boards off of the shed. Thankfully I don't have to do any of the wood carving and shaving myself, as Big MacIntosh had provided me with a lumber pile with boards and planks of various sizes. I think there's some replacement boards in there that I can use.

After a short period of me comparing board sizes to the holes I need to fill, I start to get the real repairs done. I have some experience with nail and hammer work, because I was a freak for posters in my dorm back in college, so it's not that hard to get the boards nailed in properly without hurting myself.

All right, the shed is repaired. Now all I need is to paint the boards to look like the rest of the shed. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Big MacIntosh passing behind me, so I turn my head and get his attention. "Hey, do you know where I can get some paint for this?"

"In the barn, on the shelves," is his terse answer, and then he moves on to his next chore, whatever that is. You know, I really like working under this guy.

A quick trip to the barn later, and I return to the shed with two buckets of paint: one red and one white. This part is easy. Reading about this is about as boring as watching paint dry...no pun intended.

When I finish, the shed looks as good as new, and I can return the paint buckets to their shelves. If I thought my clothes were bad before, they're now even worse. My jeans have paint spatters all over them. My mother would have freaked. I really need a new set of clothes. Maybe I'll use the four bits I'll have left over from today's pay to get some, if I can find them cheap enough...wait, what am I talking about? I live with ponies. They're not going to have clothes for humans.

After finding Big MacIntosh again, he gives me some more work to do. This time, he has me doing more menial chores, like sweeping the barn clean, and washing the exterior walls. It's a pain in the ass, but I am getting paid for all of this work.

You know, what with all the activity, I've lost track of the days. I think it was Wednesday when I was transported to the future, but I have no idea what day it is now. Are the ponies like us, where they have their school five days a week, and then two days off for weekends? Because if so, today should be Monday, because Apple Bloom hadn't been at school yesterday.

Then I get the worst job in the world right after that: pulling fucking weeds. Ugh, I remember how I used to pitch a fit when I was a kid whenever my mother would make me do that. I think the people in the neighboring suburbs could hear my angry screams. But I wasn't getting paid for it back then, so I can't complain now.

It's long, hard, and backbreaking work, especially for someone like me, who before yesterday had never done a real day's work in his life. By the time I'm finished, Applejack is back with an empty cart, having finished delivering all those foodstuffs or whatever it was she was transporting. I don't really care.

"Howdy there, Seth! Workin' hard?" Applejack greets me, breaking the blissful silence that I had been working in for hours now. I shoot her a baleful glance, and then I stand up and stretch, groaning as my back cracks.

"No, I've been playing chess with Granny Smith, can't you tell by how I'm drowning in sweat?" I remark sarcastically, adjusting my now stringy hair and wiping my forehead off. Applejack chuckles slightly and moves past me.

"Well, you kin rest now, yer done. Come inside fer a moment," Applejack tells me, and I sigh in relief. Life is going to suck if I have to do this every day. Grabbing the rifle and strap from its spot leaning against the barn, I follow her into the barn as she pulls the cart inside and unstraps herself from it. She does a little stretching over her own. Ponies seem a lot more limber in Equestria than the ones I know. I don't think our ponies had ball joints attached to their hooves and legs.

When she's done, she canters into the living area, where Big MacIntosh is dusting behind a few of the paintings, and Granny Smith is actually awake...and she actually takes notice of me.

"So yer the fine new worker Applejack's been tellin' me about!" she exclaims upon seeing me in a really creaky old voice. I don't know what I expected. "Yer an odd lookin' thang. What are ya, anyway?"

"I'm human, and I could say the same thing about you, considering the first time I've seen a pony was about three days ago," I reply in a bored tone. Tiredly, I rest my back against the wall and cross my arms.

"Hyomin? What in tarnation is that?" Granny Smith repeats, horribly mispronouncing my species name.

"They're an advanced species that were lost three thousand years ago." Big MacIntosh is the one who answers, much to my surprise. Not only was that the longest sentence I've ever heard him say, but he also knows what I am.

"Now that, ah didn't know," Applejack chimes in, gazing at me in a new light, while Granny Smith peers at me in interested.

"Ya look mighty good for three thousand," the old pony notes. The misunderstanding earns a smile from Big MacIntosh and a chuckle from Applejack, while I just facepalm.

"I'm not actually three thousand. I'm twenty one. Magic brought me here. That's my story in a nutshell," I explain briefly, realizing only after I finish talking that I hadn't actually told anyone other than Zecora how I got here. They're all regarding me curiously. "Don't ask me for the full story, because I don't feel like telling."

"Ah, that's raht disappointin'. You soun' like ya got quite the tale ta tell there," Applejack remarks with a sigh. "Anyhow, ah'll be raht back. Gotta git yer money."

Applejack leaves the area, trotting upstairs with a purpose, leaving me in the room with Granny Smith and Big MacIntosh. I glance at the latter. "I assume you've read those books I've heard so much about?" I inquire.

"Eeyup," is his telling response.

" Are they any good?"

"Eeyup."

"Huh. I think I need to read them, if only to make fun of how wrong they are," I quip, while Big MacIntosh just nods.

"There are books about hyomins? Why does nopony ever tell me these things?" Granny Smith asks with mild frustration in her voice. Without waiting for a reply, she returns to a rocking chair and sits back in it with a sigh. Let me tell you, it's really odd to see a pony sit.

"Humans, Granny Smith," Big MacIntosh corrects her, pronouncing my species name perfectly. Seems like this pony is smarter than he lets on. I'll have to remember that.

A few moments later, the front door opens, and Apple Bloom rushes in excitedly, clearly happy to be out of school for the day. Behind her are her two friends Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. "Evenin' everypony! Ah'm home!" Apple Bloom declares, running up to her brother first. The two of them nuzzle one another affectionately, and then the filly does the same with Granny Smith.

When Apple Bloom notices that I'm here as well, she gives me a warm smile, and then she moves over to me and nuzzles me as well, despite the indifferent look I'm giving her. "Hello, Mr. Rogers! How was yer day today?" she asks me while showing me a happy expression.

"I prefer to be called Seth. And to answer you, it could have been worse, I suppose," I answer casually. I don't know what it is about this filly, but I can't bring myself to be cold to her.

"Apple Bloom! Welcome home, sis," Applejack rejoins, having returned from upstairs with a sack of jingling bits on her back. I move closer to her expectantly, but I have to wait as the sisters physically greet one another.

"Hey, Apple Bloom? I need to get back home to Rarity," Sweetie Belle informs her friend with a reluctant expression. I notice how she pointedly avoids my gaze when I turn to look at her.

"Okay! Ah'll see y'all tomorrow then," Apple Bloom acknowledges. She gives Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo a wave of her hoof, which they return before they trot out of sight. "So what's fer dinner, Applejack?"

"Jus' a minute, Apple Bloom. This is fer y'all, Seth." Applejack turns to me, her mouth clamping around the neck of the sack. She levers the money over to my open palm, which then closes around the bag. Pulling the bag back, I immediately move towards the door, ready to get moving. "Hey, would ya like ta stay fer dinner?"

I stop. Did she really just ask me that again? Does she expect me to suddenly change my mind overnight? "No, I wouldn't. If you'll excuse me," I reply coldly, and then I open the door and step outside into the rapidly chilling air.

"Okay," I hear Applejack say just before the door shuts behind me. Out of all the ponies I've met so far, Applejack has to be one of the most confusing. She keeps being friendly, and then doesn't get offended when I rebuff her. I don't know what to think about that.

I'm on my own again. So far, I have several things on my list. Firstly, I need to get some food. Secondly, I want to visit Twilight again, because I really want to ask about the pegasi and their cloud maneuvering, as well as why some ponies don't have butt tattoos. And then there's Sombra, of course. I think she should have had enough time to find something on him by now. Lastly, I need to visit that place Vinyl told me about. What did she call it? The Carousel Boutique? Why does that sound familiar?

Suddenly, it hits me. Rarity said before at the party that she runs a business there. Fuck...this isn't going to be fun. I guess I'd better get that out of the way first. At least Rarity is less trouble than Pinkie to deal with.

I push forward towards town, feeling satisfied with that extra money jingling around in my hand. Peeking into the bag, I notice that I had earned ten bits, just as I'd expected. That'll be enough to pay my rent, and leave me four bits left over for food and commodities. It's not perfect, but I'm starting to make something of a living here in this ridiculous land of ponies.

If I remember right, Rarity said her place was southwest of the town square, on the hill. That means it should be to my left...yep, there's the hill. I assume the Boutique must be that large purple building that looks a lot like a frilly circus tent. Heh, I bet she'd kill me if I mentioned that to her. I'll keep that in mind. Chances are I'll be in an argument with her the moment I get inside.

I don't want to walk all the way across the river and through the square, because that seems like a really long way to walk. Haven't these ponies heard the theory that the shortest route between point A and point B is a straight fucking line?

Apparently they have. After craning my head around, I notice a separate bridge that crosses the river there, though it goes off the path and through a small park that terminates at the bottom of Carousel Hill. Whether it's actually called that or not, I don't give a fuck. That's its name now.

Not long after veering from the path towards the bridge, I catch the faintest hint of music. I stop, wondering if I'm going even more crazy than I already am.

No, I'm not crazy. I definitely hear music. It almost sounds like a harp, but there's some subtle differences in the sound. Holy fuck, that's...that's beautiful. Fuck Rarity, I need to hear some more of this amazing music.

I do my best to follow the sound to its source, walking across the river and into the park, where there's a carved water fountain in the clearing, topped with the statue of a pony that's rearing its forelegs up in the air. There aren't any other ponies here...except for one.

Just in front of the fountain, facing away from me, there's a familiar mint green unicorn standing there. A golden lyre hangs just in front of her, being held aloft by a soft green magical aura. Its strings seemingly strum themselves, releasing a calming and sad melody that has me rooted to the spot, unable to do anything other than stand there, listening.

I close my eyes and let the melody carry me away to a different time, forgotten memories floating to the surface of my consciousness.

I remember when my mother took Adam and I to an amusement park for my birthday, when I was still in middle school. I hadn't wanted to go at all, because I considered those kinds of places to be childish and beneath me. My mother took us anyway, and it was there she forced me onto my first roller coaster, of which I was incredibly afraid. After going down the first hill, I remember being able to let go and enjoy myself, and from then on, I had a blast with my family at that park, trying every ride at least once, and eating sweets until we were stuffed. Then, after the most intense ride in the park, Adam lost his hat, but it didn't matter in the end. We ended up taking a picture together afterward, where Adam and I were smiling and embracing one another, while our mother stood behind us, her proud smile and bright eyes betraying her happiness. I had kept that photo with me forever, and had been in my dorm until the day I disappeared.

I remember the day Amaryllis and I took our first trip together, the both of us having finally acknowledged our friendship after denying it for a month. We had gone to a beach several hours away, but the water had been too cold to stay in for very long. While we were swimming, Amaryllis discovered a small sandy area hidden behind a large rock formation, out of sight of the common populace, as well as the life guards. We had stayed there past closing time, watching the sun set and listening to the waves crash against the shore together. We didn't have to speak; it was enough knowing that for once in our lives, we didn't have to be alone.

I choke a bit, my eyes watering. I can't help myself. The song has brought up so many feelings that I would rather keep hidden, and as such I can't keep the tears from leaking out of my eyes, silently traveling down my cheeks.

I wipe my eyes as the song comes to an end, but it doesn't really do any good. As the last notes fade away into the air, I'm left feeling empty. As much as I try to muffle it, a faint sob escapes me. It's very quiet, but it's enough to catch the attention of Lyra, who whirls around in surprise, placing her lyre on her back. I immediately turn away, but I'm not quick enough to keep her from seeing my tear streaked face for a split second. There's an awkward silence, as neither one of us knows what to say to the other.

"Hey," Lyra says softly, her voice sounding kind. I don't answer at first, as I'm frantically trying to compose myself so I don't look like a complete idiot. I hear her hooves clopping against the ground as she moves closer to me. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I am," I answer quickly, hoping that she will take the hint and drop it. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Heh, no reason, I guess," Lyra replies, trotting to my side, where she gazes up at me. I adjust the position on my head a little, such that my hair covers the side of my face that she can see. Lyra gives me a warm, heartfelt smile, and she places a hoof on my leg in what I guess she thinks is a comforting manner. "Thank you for being such a good listener."

"Whatever...but you're not bad," I compliment her, shifting away from her touch uncomfortably. My praise causes her smile to become a happy grin. "I didn't know you were a musician."

"My cutie mark is a lyre for a reason, silly," Lyra teases me, her grin turning cheeky. I scoff a bit, even though I know she's right.

"I noticed your damn butt tattoo, thank you. Excuse me for not knowing their significance," I snap at her, feeling a little stupid. Somehow, I feel like I said something wrong, as Lyra's cheeks color a bit at my words.

"Trust you to be looking at my butt." Lyra's retort causes me to choke. That's an answer I didn't expect. She's still blushing...oh dear god this pony is fucking flirting with me. Kill me now.

"Fuck you," I grunt, not amused in the least. Lyra takes a step closer, giggling a little, apparently finding my hateful response to be amusing.

"Doesn't that just prove my point?" she counters with a bit of a sultry expression on her face.

"Ugh!" I groan, pushing my way past her roughly, her giggles erupting into full blown laughter. "I'm leaving. I have places to be."

"Okay, I'm sorry! But you shouldn't make it so easy for me." Lyra calls after me, but I don't stop moving. "Seth? I was just kidding, please don't be mad!"

Too late. I'm more than just mad. I'm disgusted. A pony just tried flirting with me. I'm...I'm just fucking done. How the fuck does sexual attraction work in this world anyway? Do they not even care that to them I'm essentially a hairless monkey? Besides, how would it even...UGH! Just...fuck this, and fuck you, Lyra.

I leave a distraught Lyra behind as I climb the hill to the Carousel Boutique, dreading the coming meeting with Rarity. Hopefully I can just get in and out without much trouble. Yeah...if there's one think I've learned about living in this land, it's that the ponies always give me trouble.

When I get up to the building, I find that I'm directly behind it. There's a tree on the left of me, and there are clotheslines stretched between the branches of the tree and the side of the building, damp clothing hanging from them, swaying in the slight breeze. There's a door back here as well, but I doubt Rarity would appreciate it if I barged in through the back door.

I duck underneath the clotheslines and continue around to the front of the building. Goddamn, this place is so frilly and colorful. How the hell do the ponies live near it without all of these colors hurting their eyes? Probably because they're so damn colorful themselves.

I give the front door a few raps with my knuckles, and then I wait, somewhat impatiently. "Comiiing!" I hear Rarity call in a singsong voice from within. Not long afterward, the unicorn opens the door, and her pupils widen almost imperceptibly when she sees me. "Oh...Seth? Is there something I can do for you?"

I'm about to answer when I notice that Lyra had climbed up the hill behind me. Why the fuck was she still chasing me? Hadn't I already made it clear that I didn't want to be anywhere near her? "Yeah, actually," I say quickly, and then much to Rarity's surprise, I zip inside the Boutique and shut the door, locking it behind me.

"What ever is the matter, darling? You look like you've seen a ghost," Rarity observes, seemingly unperturbed that I had just invited myself inside without really asking.

"Yes, if one defines a ghost as a lyre playing unicorn that wants me to fuck her," I answer, peering out through the small window set into the door. Yeah, Lyra's still there, and she's looking around for me. She looks pretty depressed for some reason. Whether or not that's actually what she wants is not my problem. All I know is what I perceived, and it was appalling.

Rarity visibly colors at my words, and she opens her mouth to say something, and then shuts it again. After a moment of thinking, she tries again. "Oh...well...ahem. You're...certainly blunt," she comments, shuffling her hooves. "You'll have to forgive Lyra. She's always been...a little eccentric. Especially when it comes to the ancient past."

"Well, that's great and all, but I won't be some conquest for a crazed history lover," I reply. Rarity nods understandingly.

"Perhaps I'll let Bon Bon know you're having trouble. She should take care of it for you," Rarity suggests. I give her a sideways glance. What could she possibly hope to gain from helping me out? I don't want to find out.

"Don't bother. I can take care of it myself," I respond flatly. Rarity looks like she's going to protest, but I don't let her. "Anyway, that's not why I came here."

"Oh? Perhaps you've finally come so that I may design you a better wardrobe? Your...ahem...current attire appears to be covered in dirt and paint," Rarity guesses, looking at me hopefully. She looks disappointed when I scoff.

"Like I have the money for that. No, I'm hear to get this strap fixed to my rifle, so I can sling it around my back." My explanation doesn't seem to stick with her at all.

"Darling, I wouldn't dream of charging you for such a basic request! No pony...or human in your unique case, should be reduced to wearing such grimy clothing." Rarity has an appalled expression upon her face now, as if shocked that I would want to pay her for her work. Also, did she not even hear my true reasons for being here?

"The answer is no. Now will you take the strap already? I do have other places to be today," I tell her firmly, holding out both the rifle and the guitar strap. With a look of restrained frustration, Rarity's horn glows with a light blue aura and the two items levitate out of my hands.

"No need to be rude, dear. It will only take a bit of an adhesive material, of which I have in plentiful supply," she sniffs, and a drawer opens on the opposite side of the room, from which a small bottle zooms out. "If you wouldn't mind, could you tell me where the ends of the strap would be attached? I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with human technology."

"I'd be afraid if you were," I remark dryly, imaging ponies running around with fully functional assault rifles. "Now, I want the strap to be attached to the rifle at the stock and the muzzle."

Rarity gives me a blank expression. Right, she has no knowledge of the proper terminology. Heaving a sigh, I indicate the areas I had mentioned.

The top of the bottle unscrewed itself, revealing a small brush attached to the underside of the cap. An odd fluid that I can't identify glistens from the bristles. I'm guessing that's some kind of glue. Do ponies even having adhesive?

Rarity dabs a tiny bit of the fluid in the places I specified, and then delicately presses the ends of the strap onto them with her magic. "Done," she announces, hovering the rifle back over to me. I glance at it suspiciously.

"Wait, wouldn't it need to-" I begin, but Rarity releases the rifle from her hold. I grab it by the strap out of reflex. Surprisingly, the strap holds. "What the...what is that stuff? How did it dry so fast?"

"Ah, I forget you have no real knowledge of our accomplishments, either," Rarity confesses, and then she hovers up the bottle so that I can look at the label. It's only a second before I remember that I can't read Equestrian. Thankfully, Rarity explains. "This is called Liquid Rock by its producers. Just a little touch of magic, and it hardens!"

"Seems like everything works on fucking magic," I remark with distaste. It seems so unfair that in my era, humans had to work incredibly hard to get the luxuries we did then, and ponies get them just by finding a unicorn and voila. Extending my arm, I flick a single bit over to Rarity. "Here."

Rarity catches the bit with her magic out of reflex. "Darling, I must insist that you keep your money. It was a simple task-"

"Save it. I wish all of you ponies would just admit that you're only helping me so you can gain something from me later. It's embarrassingly obvious at this point," I interrupt, slinging the rifle over my shoulder. The strap is tight enough that it hardly shifts when I move my arms, but loose enough that it doesn't hurt.

Rarity is quiet for a few seconds, as she stares at me with a frown. She walks a bit closer to me, her eyes meeting mine. "Seth, I'm going to make you a new set of clothes. For free," she asserts. The tone of her voice tells me she's not willing to brook any argument. Fuck that, though. I won't let her do this.

"I told you, I don't want-"

"Darling, please. Hear me out." Rarity forestalls my objections by raising a hoof. I glare at her in silence. There's nothing she can say that will make me change my mind. "I don't know why you're so afraid to let others help you. It seems to me as if you're worried that if you do not pay us to assist you, we'll use our favors as a means to extract services from you in the future."

"Finally, a pony that can fucking take a hint," I grumble. Rarity's not finished, however.

"What if I told you that helping you will help me in an immaterial fashion, rather than something as mundane as money?" she poses.

"I would call bullshit. Especially if you're about to say some shit like, 'your happiness is all the payment I need,'" I scoff, crossing my arms. Rarity shakes her head.

"Well, though that is part of it, I know you won't be satisfied with just that," she quite accurately guesses. I roll my eyes. "So let me explain it to you this way. I've been making clothes for ponies all of my life, as it is quite a passion of mine. But the chance to make clothing for something as fantastic as a human is a challenge that I simply cannot resist."

"Uh-huh, just like-" I start, but I'm cut off again, much to my frustration.

"By helping you, Seth, I help myself. Then we would be officially even. Is that acceptable to you?" Rarity finishes, gazing at me hopefully.

I stare back at her. I really don't want to agree, but all I have is this one set of clothes, and it's just going to get progressively filthier and filthier. If I ever have to meet someone important, like the Ponyville mayor, I can't go talking to them wearing this shit. I'd bring a cloud of flies with me.

She does make a very good point, now that I think about it. She is getting something out of helping me, but it's a sentiment only an artist can feel. Like, say I was good at drawing. Stuck in my hometown, I'm forced to keep drawing the same style of buildings, the same people, the same environment. But if someone were to offer me a trip to the ocean in return for a favor, I'd grant it in a heartbeat. The chance to draw something new would be an incredibly satisfying experience.

Not to mention she's being honest about what she gains from helping me. I suppose...I'll let her give it a shot. I'll kill her if she double-crosses me, though.

"All right. I'll let you make me some clothes," I relent, and Rarity's expression brightens in an instant. A smile stretches across her face.

"Excellent! Now, darling, if you'll come this way, I need to take some measurements." Rarity gestures for me to follow her. Now that I'm not focusing on her, I can get a good look around this extravagant place.

On my left, there's a set of plum colored curtains that were held open by pink lace, revealing several racks of dresses. Further up that same wall, I can see mirrors and vanities whose purposes I can't fathom. The wall terminates at a staircase that spirals upwards and out of sight.

Scattered around the room are mannequins in the shape of ponies, wearing various sets of clothing. I suppose the term "mannequins" doesn't really apply here. I suppose they'd be called ponyquins or something equally stupid.

On my right, there's a raised area, like a stage. It's surrounded by mirrors and partially enclosed by a wall, in which is set a small door. It was to here that Rarity is telling me to go.

"If you'll step right up there for just a moment," she directs me, and I do so uncomfortably, wondering if this really was a good idea after all. I've never had custom clothes created for me before, so I don't know what this process entails.

A tape measure floats to me from the same drawer where the Liquid Rock had been, courtesy of Rarity's magic. "Would you mind removing your shirt for me?" the unicorn requests. I start, but then I realize she probably can't get proper measurements with all this fabric in the way.

I take the rifle off and set it on the stage next to me. Then it's a simple matter to strip off the grimy piece of fabric from my upper body. I callously toss it aside. Its flight is halted prematurely by Rarity's magic. She wrinkles her nose in distaste at it, and then she hangs it over a rack on the wall, far away from the other clothes on the rack.

I notice Rarity taking in the appearance of my upper body with some interest. Most likely scientifically, since there are a lot of differences in our anatomy. She's probably wondering why I have nipples if I'm male. Well, that's a question I'm not going to answer. I hope she's good at seances, because I'll take most of my secrets to the grave.

The tape measure whirls around me like a yellow whirlwind, taking measurements like the circumference of my neck, the widest part of my chest, and my waist. Then she has me bend my arms, so that she can measure the distance from my shoulder to my wrist. "Hm...winter is coming. Perhaps something long sleeved, then?" Rarity thinks aloud. I'm actually a little impressed. She hardly knows anything about humans, and yet here she is, taking measurements of me like a master. That takes skill. "Now then, if you'll remove your pants?"

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask, hoping that I hadn't heard what I thought I just heard.

"I asked if you would remove your pants, darling. I have some measurements to take on your lower body," Rarity repeats patiently.

"Absolutely not," I deny firmly. Rarity looks taken aback by my response.

"Why ever not? Don't you want your pants to fit you?" she inquires. Right...ponies don't wear clothing regularly. She probably has no idea why I'm stopping her.

"It's a human thing. We don't ever remove our lower garments in front of civilized beings, especially when in the presence of the opposite sex," I explain, and then I realize something. Why had I taken the time to explain to her? I pretty much told Zecora to go fuck herself when she asked. So what changed?

"Oh, well then," Rarity responds with a slight blush, having understood my underlying meaning. "I suppose I will simply have to compensate. Remain still, if you please."

I fidget uncomfortably as the end of the tape measure snakes into the hem of my pants and takes the width of my boxers and jeans combined. "Oh, there are two garments layered atop one another," Rarity observes, and then she takes the width of both individually. "There. Now I can proceed."

This is so awkward. I really want to say fuck this and leave, but I really do need new clothes. I suffer in silence as she measures my hips. She then takes the length from my crotch to my heel, as well as the width of my ankles. Then, much to my relief, the tape slides back into the receptacle with a click, and then Rarity places the item back in the drawer.

"Well, that's that!" Rarity proclaims, levitating a sheet of parchment and a quill in front of her, where she starts writing something down, probably the measurements she just took. "I'll get to work on this right away. If you'll come see me first thing in the morning, I should have some outfits ready for you to try on."

"Fine. I'm getting down now," I reply hastily, hopping down from the stage. I grab my shirt from the rack, replacing it on my back. I regret it the moment I do though, because it feels slimy against my skin. I can't help but shudder in revulsion. The rifle is then slung on my back. "I'm going to-"

"Rarity!" a familiar voice calls, and then I hear something galloping down the stairs in the hallway that I can't see. Sweetie Belle emerges, a book in her mouth. She drops the object on the floor in front of Rarity. "I can't seem to figure out this one pro...uh...what's he doing here?"

"Just business, dear," Rarity answers her sister with a guarded smile. I'm not so nice, however.

"I'm leaving now, so quit fucking staring at me before I kick your ass back up those stairs," I snap at the filly, causing her to take a step back, while regarding me with confusion.

"But...I don't have a donkey," Sweetie Belle replies haltingly. I groan in annoyance, and then I throw the door open and step outside, slamming it shut behind me. Fucking ponies and their innocence.

Shit, I forgot about Lyra. I throw myself into a bush the moment I catch sight of the mint green unicorn still looking around for me. Just in time too, because Lyra's head jerks around to stare in my direction, probably having heard the rustling of the bush. For the love of god, do not come over here...fuck, she's coming over here. Come on, Seth, think of something.

My hand grabs a rock from the dirt. Locating the nearest tree, I hurl the rock at it through the bush. The rock collides with the bark, making a dull thunk. Lyra hears the sound and moves to investigate.

Seizing the moment, I break cover and dash towards the hill. From there, it's a simple matter to slide down it. Or at least, it should have been simple, but my foot catches in a small divot, and I fall flat on my face. My momentum causes my legs to flip over my head, and I slide down to the street, covered in grass stains, my rifle jabbing painfully into my back.

I groan and rise. The first thing I notice are the ponies on the street looking at me with bemused expressions. "Don't you fuckers have anything better to do than stare?" I snap at them irritably. In response the ponies return to what they were doing, some mumbling apologies, while others seem indignant at my rude response. They can be angry all they want. I don't give a fuck.

Now, my next order of business is to find Twilight's library. It looks like I'm near the path I traveled to get to the Ponyville Schoolhouse, which is on the same side of the town as her library. If I follow this road forward and take a left at the intersection, it'll lead me back to the park that I crashed in one night.

I follow the route I laid out in my head without much of note, apart from the few curious ponies shooting me glances when they think I'm not looking. I've gotten used to it by now, and some of the other ponies that I've been seeing regularly seem to be getting used to seeing me in town as well.

After crossing the park, it's a simple matter to find my way to Twilight's library, which towers over all of the other buildings. I knock on the door, and to my surprise, it opens immediately.

A very frazzled looking Twilight greets me, and she heaves a deep sigh of relief upon seeing me. "Seth! Thank goodness you're okay!" she tells me frantically, and then she ushers me inside. I walk inside the library, feeling confused. Why wouldn't I be okay?

I meet the gaze of Spike, who is standing just by a bookshelf. He looks to Twilight, and then back to me. The dragon shakes his head in what seems to be exasperation before he walks to the kitchen.

Okay, now I have a slightly bad feeling about this.

---

And the slice of life continues. I never thought this style of writing would ever work for me, as I'm used to writing fight scenes, but SoL has its charms, as odd as it is to admit it.

Major plot point here as well, as Seth finally agrees to let somepony do him a favor.

Leave a comment telling me what you think!