Author's Notes:

This chapter of Flutterrape is brought to you by overly-dramatic music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TsNlhUxwGjU

The alarm blares. You slam your hand down, silencing it. Your eyes open wide.

"It's time."

Now's the time to get this all sorted out. Fluttershy left you a ton of bits yesterday. Today, you intend on giving them back. There is no way in hell you are going to find yourself indebted to your stalker. You rise to your feet and quickly push through your triple-S. After throwing on your clothes, you take the yellow bag of bits and place it on the kitchen table.

You look to the front door, ready to begin the ritual.

"It's time to summon Fluttershy."

You move to the coffee pot, and turn it on to brew your morning coffee.

"Drink of the morning, to wake the maker..." you murmur to yourself.

Moving to the kitchen pantry, you remove a loaf of bread.

"Breakfast, the most interrupted meal of the day," you continue, in a sort of demonic chant.

You remove two pieces of bread from the loaf and place them inside the toaster. With the glance at the door, you place your hand on the toaster's lever. A bead of sweat runs down your brow. You steady your hand and take a deep breath.

"Let's do this."

You push down the toast. And as if the toaster had supreme power over the world around you, three knocks on the door grab your attention. You take a deep breath and crack your neck. Taking the bag of bits off the table, you move to the front door. Placing your hand on the knob, you ready yourself for impact.

You turn the knob and rip the door open.

"Listen Fluttershy, I don't-"

However, you freeze. You look towards the pony sitting on your front porch, and find not the yellow, pink-maned horse that you're familiar with. Instead, a tan mare stands tall and proud on your porch step, peering up at you over her half-moon glasses. Her gray hair is neatly kept, and you feel a feeling of dread flow through your veins.

"Oh! U-uh. Mayor Mare. What a pleasant surprise!" you start.

"Good Morning, Anonymous. How are you this morning?"

You open your mouth, but can't collect your thoughts fast enough to form a coherent sentence. The Mayor sees your delay and opts to fill the silence for you.

"Listen, Anonymous. I'm a busy mare. So, I might as well cut to the chase. We need to discuss the topic of your taxes to Ponyville and your house payment," she says.

"Mayor. Please," you begin to say, but she cuts you off.

"These are very serious matters, Anonymous. And I believe they must be dealt with swiftly."

"I have the money, Mayor. I just need a little time to get a job and to get back on my feet. I'll get it to you, I swear."

"Oh, I know you will, Anonymous," she says with a sly smile. "That's why I expect you first thing tomorrow morning. You're hired."

"I. Wait, what?" you say.

"Didn't you send in an application stating you were looking for office work experience?" she asks. "If you'd prefer not to take the position, I'm sure we can find somepony else."

"No! No, not that. Yes! I'll take the job. Consider me your new secretary."

The mayor smiles and snickers to herself.

"While the thought is nice, Anonymous, I prefer the term 'ghost writer'. Congratulations. See you tomorrow."

With that, the Mayor of Ponyville trots away.

"Thanks!” you call out to her, closing the door behind her.

Once the door latches, you hear three more quiet knocks on the door. Opening the door once more, Fluttershy sits on the other side, beaming up at you.

"Are surprises your fetish, Anon?"

You can't help but smile. You place your hand on top of Fluttershy's head and lightly scratch behind her ear.

"No, they're not. But, thank you."

You toss the bag of bits back at her hooves.

"I don't think I'll need this. I don't want to be in debt to you. No offense."

Fluttershy shakes her head, leaning into your ear scritches like a young pup.

"Keep it. It's yours. It's the least I can do for making you lose your other job. I-I'm sorry."

You snicker to yourself and kneel down to get on eye level.

"Then, I'll consider us even," you say with a smile.

"Yeah, even," she says happily.

You remove your hand and take the bag of bits.

"Then, in that case," you say tenderly. "Get the fuck off my porch."

"Wait, wha-"

You slam the door in her face and head back to the toaster. The toast pops high into the air and you deftly catch it in mid-air.

Today's a pretty fucking good day.