You sit at home, counting your bits out on your kitchen table. 70. 70 gold pieces for food, shelter, and necessities until you find a new job.

Picking up each one, you mentally plan to yourself what each one could be used for. This one's for bread. This one is for milk. Each of these pay off the water bill.

As each of them make a clink next to it's brothers and sisters in a little coin pouch. You feel the urgency of not having a job begin to claw at your back. You may have a buffer, you may have a financial pillow in case something goes wrong, but you can't help but feel like you're running out of time to find a living to meet your ends.

Heading upstairs, you place the sack under your pillow, then smooth out the edges of it's hiding place. Finding a job shouldn't be too difficult. At least, in a world where ponies each have a very special talent or job that they're supposed to do, there's gotta be one hole for you to fill, right?

You slunk downstairs, which is sort of hybrid between sulking and slumping, but in a walking motion. Then, three gentle knocks on the door. You don't even feel irritated, knowing that Fluttershy is here for her new fetish guess.

Heading to the door, you throw it open. Sure enough, that bright, happy ball of yellow sunshine stands on the other side, grinning up at you.

"Hi Anon!" she says brightly. "Is sixty-nining your fetish?"

You stare down at her incredulously.

"Uh, what?"

"Uhm. You know. Uhm. Double Oral? Where both partners give oral to each other at the same time, so their heads are matched up-"

"No, I understood, Fluttershy. I'm just a bit surprised at you."

Fluttershy's eyes widen, and her ears turn down.

"W-was it something I said?"

"No, rather it's something you didn't say," you explain.

"O-oh. I'm sorry."

"Do you know why you're sorry?" you ask.

"Uhm. No. I'm sorry."

"Then why are you already sorry?"

"Sorry, I didn't know..."

"Stop. Stop being sorry for a thing you don't know what to be sorry for."

Fluttershy's eyes move to the ground as you stand in front of her, arms folded.

"Sorry..."

You groan under your breath and pull a long sheet of parchment from your pants. I don't mean your pocket. I mean, you reached down, then pulled a piece of paper from where your goods are, then showed it in front of Fluttershy.

"I've kept careful track over a LONG time. And I've cataloged EVERY fetish guess you ever asked me. And you know what? You didn't ask this on the sixty-ninth guess. This is the seventy-first! How dare you not cater to a childish joke! I expected better of you."

Fluttershy peers up at you behind her long pink hair, a single tear runs down her cheek as she fiddles with her hooves.

"I-I'm sorry. I-I'll try to do better from now on!" she begs.

"I sure hope so!"

You slam the door in her face, feeling slightly more confident in yourself. Then, a gentle knock at the door again. Opening back up, Fluttershy still sits there.

"Can I have that paper?" she asks.

"Uh. Yeah, why?"

"Uhm. For science."

With a shrug, you hand to her the parchment in your hands. She brings the paper close to her eyes and gives it a big sniff. You snatch it from her hooves.

"No. Bad horse."

Three stallions begin to sing a silly song in the distance as you slam the door shut, to blot out the thinly-veiled reference. Heading back to your kitchen table, you pull out today's newspaper and a highlighter, hoping to find a new job for yourself.

Author's Notes:

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF