Fuck man. This sleeping shit has to get fixed. Like. Soon. It's absolute misery to keep pushing, day in, day out, with only an hour or two of sleep every night.

You stare at your alarm clock as it goes off for its sixth round of snoozing. Your eyes burn. Your muscles ache. Your bed is too warm, but the air around you is too cold. Your back hurts from the weird, contorted positions you've tried to get comfortable with. If you had to describe the current state of your being, it would likely be along the lines of "Fuck off man, please. I don't have the patience to make analogies today."

That said. There's work to do. You can't lie in bed. You can't let the sleep deprived thoughts and emotions win. So, you get out of bed, realizing that you're going to be late to work no matter what you do.

You decide to skip the shower for the third day in a row. It's not like you do anything to get sweaty. Or anything at all for that manner. And you don't have any hair, so what's the big deal? People won't even notice that the weird alien guy didn't shower. You can make up some bullshit about it being mating season, and then you'll have some extra attention.

Attention. Heh. Attention is nice, but it's not exactly what you need. Especially when your patience is thin. What you need is a bottle of melatonin and a weekend.

That said, once you have all of your shit on: clothes, backpack with today's lunch, smiling mask that stops people from asking questions; you open your front door.

But, of course, there's a yellow horse on the other side, with her hoof raised in midair. A tense moment fills the air. She gently whimpers.

You sigh, take a step back, and close the door.

Then, there are three gentle knocks on the door.

Then you reopen the fucking door.

"Why, hello good sir whom I've never met before!" says Fluttershy with a pink mustache. "I'm quite new to town and I am very sure that we have never met before! How do you do?"

"That mustache looks horrible, Fluttershy."

"I dare say! My name is Rontupleshy! I'm not familiar with this 'Fluttershy' mare of which you speak. But I'm sure she is a very pretty mare that is very kind to animals and is premium waifu material."

You pause, examining Fluttershy carefully. She's literally done nothing to sell this act other than wear a pink mustache. To be fair, it's probably made from her hair, but that's neither here nor there. Honestly, you don't care. You need to get to the Apples. Their patience only goes so far, and they'll stare at you all day if you dare to get there any later.

"Well, I must admit, sir. I admire your flair, but do me a fine service and get to the fucking point," you say.

FlutterRontuple- It's fucking Fluttershy, clears her throat and continues to speak in a lower voice.

"Well, seeing as we are complete strangers and I'm only in town for an evening, I would love to have some bloke run a train on my perfectly good asshole. That is, if that is said bloke's fetish."

"No, strangers aren't my fetish," you growl, stepping outside and walking down the path to work.

Then you stop, and turn around.

Fluttershy has her hoof on the doorknob of your home.

"Are you going to break another window if I lock the door?" you call back to Fluttershy.

"Y-yeah," she says, dropping all pretense of trying to not be herself.

"Well, put everything back where you found it."

On that note, you turn and head to work. Fucking Fluttershy. This shit is getting ridiculous.