It had been such a good dream.

Louis slowly stretched out his spine as the waking world called him forth from sweet slumber, and he grumpily batted it away. He’d been sleeping well for once. His mattress didn’t seem quite as lumpy, his blankets felt warmer and softer, the house seemed quieter than ever. The sunlight filtered in through the window at just the right angle, where it settled across him comfortably without glaring against his eyes.

Unable to fall back asleep, Louis rolled over slowly while breathing in the friendly scent of pancakes. Oddly enough, however, his back didn’t even twinge as usual when he did so; as a matter of fact, not a single muscle in his body ached or pulled when he sat up.

And for some reason, when he blearily cracked open his eyes, he discovered that the floor was much, much closer than usual.

“… Shit, did I don’t remember getting wasted,” he grumbled, scratching at his throat. His voice sounded hoarse, and higher pitched. Attempting to clear it did no good, and he was in mid-cough by the time it finally sank in.

This wasn’t his house.

Louis sat on the edge of the basket, little purple legs dangling over the edge as he stared, taking it all in.

Taking in the clearly animated scenery of the bedroom.

And his bizarrely colored hands – or were they more akin to talons?

Louis’s heart beat so loudly he could feel it in his throat. Hands flying upward to his scaly neck as his eyes nearly bugged out of his head, he definitely felt the rapid heartbeat. This was simply too bizarre to be happening.

He slapped himself a couple of times, but to no avail. So, it was clear that he was awake, because that had hurt. His brain didn’t seem to be functioning any longer, as if it had simply shut down from the sheer impossibility of the situation.

At least it couldn’t get any weirder.

“Spike? Aren’t you coming down for breakfast?” a violet unicorn with matching mane stuck her head in through the doorway cheerily, awaiting a reply. “Come on, Spike. No time for sleeping in, we’ve got a lot of things to do today.”

It took Louis all of four seconds for his brain to register the fact that he clearly wasn’t in his right mind any longer.

“Holy fucking shit, I have got to be so fucking high right now.”

“BARGLE FLARGLE FLAGHBLAGHAAGGLEFLABGH!”

“What did we discuss, Spike?” Twilight glowered at her assistant, and the miniscule dragon spat out the bar of soap. Along with the bar came nearly a spout of foul-tasting bubbles, splattering against the bathroom wall as he struggled against her.

“Help! Go fuck yourself, you craz- BLARG FLAGHLAGHBLAGH!” was all he managed to say before the bar of soap was magically fired back into his mouth.

“You are a growing drake, Spike,” Twilight said loudly as Louis coughed and spluttered, desperately trying not to vomit as the revolting gunk of the soap burned his throat. “That kind of language will not be tolerated! Have I made myself clear?” she stamped her hoof against the tiled floor, levitating him upward and glaring directly at him.

“Somebody help! I don’t know who Spike is!” Louis choked through the soap, struggling to wipe away the foam from his lips.

“We are not playing that game anymore, Spike.” The (in comparison) much larger unicorn deadpanned, obviously unenthused. “That’s not a good way to get out of trouble. Now, how about you stop all this nonsense and tell me exactly what has gotten into you lately?”

“How about you suck my dick?!”

Twilight paused, but only for a single beat.

“BARGLE FLARGLE FLAGHBLAGHAAGGLEFLABGH!”

Louis sat sourly at the kitchen table, hatefully staring a hole in the small stack of freshly made pancakes. They steamed temptingly with syrup slathered over the top, but at this point, he really wasn’t hungry.

Even if it might have helped wash out the taste of soap.

He crossed his arms grumpily, shooting filthy looks at the unicorn across from him. She didn’t seem to be having any problems enjoying breakfast.

“Eat up, Spike,” the unicorn stated after swallowing a particularly large bite of her pancakes. “We’ll be having a late lunch today, after we see Miss Cheerilee.”

“My name’s not Spike,” Louis grumbled viciously, furrowing his brows.

“Of course it’s not, Spike.” Twilight said infuriatingly, finishing her breakfast. “You have five minutes to finish up, and we’re leaving whether or not you’ve finished. No need to wind up behind schedule again.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Without missing a beat, the unicorn’s horn lit up with a violet glow as a single bar of washing soap levitated magically from her saddle bag. She pointed it wordlessly toward him, and Louis promptly slammed his mouth closed.

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a rather pleased tone, which only served to infuriate Louis further. “We’ll be taking this with us today. There’ll be no more foul language out of you, mister. Am I understood?”

Loius tested out his appendages, and was rather pleased to see that he could still extend his middle finger/claw/talon/thing enough to flip her off.

Thankfully, she seemed blissfully ignorant of the gesture, and tucked the bar into her saddlebag. He silently breathed a sigh of relief, and actually managed to poke at the pancakes with one claw. It felt squishy, and… well, real. It smelled real. It even looked sort of real, in a way.

That didn’t mean that he could eat it, though.

With a heavy sigh, Louis pushed the untouched pancakes away from himself and rubbed wearily at his eyes. He was clearly conscious, no matter how much he tried to deny it. He just had to try to make sense of the situation. He wasn’t in his house, he wasn’t in his own body, some psychotic talking unicorn thought he was somebody else, and the weird way his perspective had shifted was starting to give him a headache.

And to top it all off, he was still hungry.

“Tick tock, Spike!”

“Oh, eat my indigo cunt, you impatient – no, wait, wait, wait!”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Twilight asked calmly as she levitated both the small dragon and the soap into the air simultaneously.

“BARGLE FLARGLE FLAGHBLAGHAAGGLEFLABGH!”