What are to follow are the many short prompts or blurbs I have written over the months for Floor Bored that never got continued. To prevent too false a word count for the story over all, many of these shorts will be found in the AuthorNote with only my personal favorites directly below.
Feel free to tell me which ones you like and which you think were bad ideas.

Short One: I Had to Die to Get a Job

Two things have happened that Floor never expected. She's died, is the first, and she's been given job offer, is the second.

In that order.

Skipping the gross details of her demise, Floor found herself standing over her own corpse, before breaking down and going into the fetal position. This went on for about an hour before a completely regular looking mare came in. By walking through the door as if it weren't there.

"Ooh, that's embarrassing. How do you even tell ponies you died doing... that?" the mare comments, turning her eyes away from the sight to land on the slowly standing Floor.

"Who- who are you?" Floor asks dumbly.

"Berry Blast, and just to speed things up, yes you're dead. Yes, I'm dead too. I'm pretty much a grim reaper. Yeah, that's right we're real, and there's more than one of us. As for what comes next, well, that's mostly up to you."

"W-what?"

"Listen, Floor, you can't be hanging around the land of the living, it's just not proper," Berry goes on to explain. "Being bound to the location of your death, you're gonna go mad if you're left to your own devices, and eventually, you're gonna become something nasty. Probably a poltergeist. Then a real-deal, bones and black robes Grim Reaper's gonna show up, and slice your soul to bits with their scythe, and they'll be nothing at all left of you."

"What!?"

"Yep, so I suggest you just mosey on over to the afterlife, and save yourself from oblivion."

"Wait, just wait, this is going so fast."

Berry sighs. "Yeah, sorry about that, but you're the eighth soul I've had to deal with in a row, and the last one took me a week to send on his way."

"You said the afterlife... What's that?"

Berry shrugs. "No clue. We rookies aren't told that sorta thing. Gotta move up quite a few ranks to be privy to that sort of knowledge."

"You don't know? And you're trying to send me there?"

"I've always just figured it's what our parents always told us. You're good, you go to Elysium, and if you're not..."

Floor gulps, thinking back on her life and determining that she would not be going to Elysium. "So... those are my choices? Stay here forever, or go... there."

Letting out a slow breath, Berry rubs at a temple with closed eyes. "You... don't have to make a decision right now. As a reaper, it's my job to help you choose the afterlife, and that entails helping you with unfinished business to make the transition easier on you. As long as I'm with you, I can escort you wherever you need to go, and I can make it so you can enter living ponies dreams if you need to pass along any final messages. Just know that you only got thirteen days, and if you still don't move on, then I gotta leave, and get in trouble, mind you, and you get put on the chopping block down the line. A lot of ponies are dying; reapers can't afford to be dallying for too long."

"But... I don't have any family or friends," Floor mumbles. "No business."

"Well, you got thirteen days, regardless."

"Yeah, thirteen days, then..." She gulps.

"...There is one other choice, but it's not a whole lot better."

Floor perks up. "What? What is it?"

"You can become a reaper like me for the rest of eternity. Constantly wondering the world, helping ponies move along. It's... a lot of hard work, but at least you get to travel, meet new ponies, and if the afterlife really terrifies you, you get to avoid it. Hey, you can even work your ways up the ranks if you do a good enough job."

"A reaper... like you?"

"That's what I said."

Floor thinks on it, and the two sit in silence for nearly an hour. "I... I guess I choose that..."

Berry grins, the first sign of joy from the mare Floor has seen. "Great! That means we just gotta go talk to the boss, and he'll send it up the chain of command. Then you'll be my eighth pony successfully dealt with, and I'll get a vacation!"

"You get vacations?"

"If we successfully prevent enough souls in a row from staying behind, yes. Guess it's incentive for us to do a good job or something. All I know is I'm going to have forty-eight hours of tangibility to do whatever I want." She rubs her hooves together, grin becoming predatory. "I'm gonna find a horny stallion, and he's gonna rut me like I haven't been in over thirty years."

Floor is speechless as her guide leads her out of her bedroom and towards a strange, unknown fate.

*At the Reaper's Respite*

Anon is scrolling through names on his crystalline tablet with a bony finger, a list of all the souls in his region, both new and old. His reapers have been doing a good job, and he's proud. There's only a few souls over the allotted thirteen days, and none were from the time covering since he took over the area.

The skeletal human gives himself a mental pat on the back for his leadership skills, predicting another promotion in his immediate future. He had arrived in this strange land sixty-five years ago. Died sixty. And broke the record for quickest rising reaper in history fifty years back.

Some of the other reapers joke that he'll be the next King of Death before the century is out with how good at his job he is. Anon isn't sure about that. He's guessing it'll take him two centuries.

His thoughts are interrupted by the loud voice of one of is most frustrating employees. "Hey, Boss, I'm back!"

"Hello, Berry," Anon begins, turning around. "I'm guessing this means you're eighth souls has been... Who is that?"

"Mr. Anon, I'd like to introduce you to our newest recruit, Floor Bored!" Berry Blast introduces cheerfully. "She's decided to become a reaper!"

Anon looks at the beige mare, still strangely wearing a hoodie even in death, meaning it must have been integral to her person in life. There's a bit of fear in her eyes, and it's times like this Anon wishes he still had lips so that he could give her a reassuring smile.

Instead, he settles for a gentle tone as he says, "Hello, Floor, it's a pleasure to meet you."

The mare stares for several more seconds, before breathing, "So tall..."

Anon can't help but chuckle as Berry not-so-subtlety elbows her new companion in the side. "Yes, I am quite tall, aren't I?" Anon agrees, kneeling down to be closer to their level. "As I'm sure you have deduced, I am not a pony. I am, or perhaps it's was, a human. I'm actually from another world."

"You're an alien, ghost, grim reaper?" Floor ask in wonder.

"Yes, I suppose I am, and you are my newest little pony reaper, if Berry Blast here is to be believed... Which might actually mean you aren't."

"Hey!"

"No, I-I am, Mister Anon, Reaper, Sir."

"Anon is fine, and let me be the first to welcome you to our ranks, Ms. Bored. I hope you find the work fulfilling," Anon welcomes, grabbing hold of the little mare's hoof with cool digits and giving it a gentle squeeze and shake.

Floor doesn't know why, but she can't help but feel that expressionless face is smiling at her, and for some reason, that makes her blush. "I-I hope I don't disappoint, A-anon..."

Short Two: Anon and the PokéNEET.

Anon, the player, looks around the path warily, trying to spot the Pokémon trainers that are sure to be waiting to bum rush him with an inescapable challenge as soon as he breaks their line of sight.

... But there's nothing, just a spooky abandoned house on the side of the road that was probably home to some pretty rare ghost types. He wants to check the place out, but his team is pretty banged up, and he really needs to get to the next center to heal his Pokémon first.

Man, he really shouldn't have wasted all his money on those custom pokéball skins and bought potions instead. Live and learn, he thinks, deciding to continue down the path. Maybe after he's stocked up, he'll come back and explore the house. Ganger would be a wicked edition to his collection.

His thoughts are interrupted when, as he steps past the front down of the dilapidated building, an exclamation mark appears over the house. While the familiar, dreaded music begins to play, Anon can hear banging and footsteps from inside, as well as a few curses, before a girl comes flying out the front door to face plant on the porch.

Undeterred, she hops up, pulls her hoodie the rest of the way on, and sprints at you, wholly out of breath as she stops in front of you. "I-I- *Huff*- Challenge you to- to a Pokémon battle. *Huff*"

"You... okay there?"

"F-fine, just, no one usually comes down this road, so I'm out of practice. Come on, let's do this."

Anon sighs, but nontheless grabs a ball from his waist. Hopefully he can win with his team in such poor condition. This is going to be a challenge.

*A surprisingly short amount of time later*

"Oh no, Muk!"

Floor runs to her final Pokémon as he collapses, quickly trying to scoop him up into her arms.

"M-Muk," it groans, looking up at her sadly.

She smiles fondly and runs a hand through its slime. "Shh, it's okay, you tried your best," she comforts, getting the goo creature to push against her palm as she pulls out a pokeball and sucks him up in a flash of red light. She sighs and looks at Anon, reluctantly fishing in her hoodie pocket. "Well, you beat me fare and square, here," she says holding out a wad of crumpled up bills.

Now normally, Anon would take the money and be on his way, but looking from the decrepit house and down to the scrawny, smelly girl, he's hesitant. Even her Pokémon seemed hungry and unwashed, probably lending to why his team, even battle worn already, was able to win.

"Ah, that's fine, you can keep it," he says, getting the girl to frown in confusion.

"But you won; you have to take my money. That's the rule."

"No, really, I don't want your money."

Her frown deepens for a moment before her eyes suddenly go wide in realization.

"O-oh, you want that sort of payment," she whispers, body beginning to shake even as she gulps and reaches for the zipper of her hoodie. "Please, at least be gentle."

Anon's eyes widen as he starts waving his hands in front of him wildly. "What? No! I'm not going to rape you!"

She stops, hoodie half open to reveal her bare collarbone and bony sternum. "If that's not it, then what do you want? I have to give you something."

"No, you really don't," Anon says with a sigh. "Listen, I'm not going to take money from a homeless girl squatting in a murder house, and I'm not going to force you to have sex with me. I didn't even want to battle for Christ's sake."

She blushes and looks away. "No one’s ever been murdered there... The last owner died of natural causes."

"Whatever, point is, I'm not taking your money."

"But it's the law-"

"Fuck the law," he snap, causing the girl to flinch. Anon sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell... You aren't going to let this drop, are you?"

She suddenly looks determined. "Nope. I may be a lot of awful things, but I am not a lawbreaker. Either take my money, or my virginity. You're not getting pass without one of them."

Anon groans, trying to work out a solution for getting by this crazy girl with his morality intact. Then, like lighting, inspiration strikes. "Your company."

"Um, what?"

"You'll be paying me with your company as my female traveling companion."

She tilts her head. "Um... What?"

Anon's getting excited now. "Yeah, this is perfect! You can be like the Misty to my Ash, or the May to my Ash, or the Dawn to my Ash...! God, Ash was a Chad, wasn't he?"

"Ah, excuse me, Mister Pokémon Trainer-"

"Anonymous. Anon for short."

"Oh, ah, I'm Floor Bored... Floor for short, I guess."

"Nice to meet you, Floor."

"Y-you too...Um, anyway, what are you talking about? Traveling companion?"

"Yeah," Anon confirms with a nod. "You'll come with me on my Pokémon journey and we'll get into all sorts of wacky adventures. It'll be great!"

"Y-you want me to leave... with you? But, I'm a nobody."

"Look like a somebody to me," Anon comments offhandedly, getting the girl to blush again. "And besides, I'm the winner, and that's what I want. Are you refusing to pay?"

"No! Of course not! It's just... I've never really been on an adventure before..."

"Well, it'll be a new experience then, won't it? Come on, Floor, it'll be fun. Plus you get free food at all the Pokemon Centers."

She perks up.

"Food?"

Anon rubs the back of his neck.

"Well, yeah. It's mostly just instant ramen and PB&J sandwiches, but it's free... Are you drooling?"

"Free Ramen?"

"Ah... yeah, all you can eat..."

"I'll pack my things!" she exclaims running back into the old house so fast she leaves a dust cloud in the shape of her.

Huh, Anon has a suspicion that his journey just got a whole lot weirder.

Short Three: Come with me if You Want to Live.

Floor Bored is not a pony. She's technically not even a living creature. Floor is a nanomachine colony created to be an ultimate weapon against an emerging threat long ago.

Magic, as it is called now, was once an extra-dimensional anomaly that had slowly begun to leech into this reality. The strange, alien energy had devastating effects on life, with more than 50% of organisms exposed dying outright. The half that survived, however, mutated rapidly into monstrous beings. Some even adapted to utilize the anomalous energy in what could be considered the first spells.

Humans only survived by building a large barrier system around their greatest city that could hold back the energy. This, however, did not hold back the beasts that began to find ways into the city to feed.

Hence the creation of androids to combat the monsters and protect humans. The being that would come to be known as Floor Bored was meant to be the first in a new line of defenders, infinitely adaptable in a bid to counter the beasts' massive and ever-evolving array of forms.

Unfortunately, the monsters did not remain mere beasts forever, and eventually began to grow in intelligence and form rudimentary societies of their own. The pitiful human forces could not stand against an organized attack, and in one day, the great city was overrun by the magic creatures who viewed the humans as anomalies in their world that needed to be removed.

Floor remained in her capsule, untouched for millennia before eventually an malfunction led to her awakening into a new world. Being a nanomachine colony, she took the form of many of this land's creatures to blend in while she searched for her purpose. But alas, she was a protector of a long-dead race, and soon found herself without meaning.

Unable to fulfill her prime directive, Floor merely existed, taking the form of a simple mare. She lived a haze of idleness, trying to find distractions, but nothing ever being enough to make her forgot what she was.

A tool without a function.

Until Anon appeared.

As soon as she came across the news of a human from another reality ending up in their own while web browsing, she was off. Forming wings that would make Celestia envious, Floor took to the skies, flying higher than any pegasus could dream, entering the upper atmosphere and rocketing across the kingdom.

When she crashed into the stonework of Canterlot castle twenty minutes later, it threw the guards into a panic. And when said guards tried to apprehend her, she threw them into the walls.

Her programing was in full effect then. There was a human in danger and magical mutants in her way. It took all of her will not to kill them.

Picking out the one non-magical entity in the entire world was easy for her scanners, and she went straight to his side, literally drilling through walls as she did. When she arrived, it was to the shock of the doctors trying to treat the alien who had fallen deathly ill only a few days after his arrival.

They didn't know what was killing him, but Floor did. Before a word could be said, she had placed a hoof on the human's chest and nanites were flooding his bloodstream. The magic ponies thought so natural was literally killing Anon, and the only way to save him would be to shield him from it.

The nanites began to converge, creating miniature versions of the same barrier technology that had once been humanity's saving grace all those years ago. Devices created from Floor's very being activated and made a magic void around the human.

Instantly, the human's breathing began to settle from the pained huffs of before and his pale skin began to regain color. Floor breathed a sigh of relief- a habit picked up from living with ponies so long- and smiled, moving her hoof from the man's chest to run it tenderly through his sweaty bangs.

She had not been there for the humans of the past, having not been activated before they were slaughtered, but she vowed never to leave this one's side. Besides, the nanite structures within Anon's body that were keeping him alive would not function if the distance between them became too great, so she didn't really have any options.

"Well, that certainly makes the list for most dramatic entrances I've seen," a regal voice says, getting Floor's eyes to snap up to meet those of Princess Celestia. "Though I have to wonder what your exit strategy is."

Floor sees the alicorn flanked by a full platoon of guards on either side, and slowly begins to move in front of her ward. "The human comes with me," she says lowly, massive wings spreading out and feathers turning razor sharp. "Any attempts to prevent this will be met with lethal force."

The princess' eyes narrow and her own wings begin to spread. "Is that so, creature? I don't know who or what you are, but I think you're drastically overestimating your abilities and underestimating mine if you think you will be able to abduct Sir Anonymous while I'm here."

"You've been warned," Floor says, lowering her head.

Just then, there's a grumble and movement behind her, and suddenly a pair of strong arms wrap around Floor's barrel. "Mmm, yes, Miss Fuzzlelumps, I do think you’re warm," Anon says, pulling the stunned AI to his chest and smiling.

Floor squeaks and barely manages to reabsorb the swords on her back in time not to impale Anon as he snuggles her.
Celestia and her guards look on confused as the creature that had just left a path of destruction through the castle was now being pet and hugged by the human.

"Perhaps... I was being hasty," the princess begins. "Would you be willing to speak with us- explain what's going on?"

Blushing, another habit picked up from her overexposure to ponies, Floor tries to sound dignified as she answers, "Yes, perhaps I was being brash."

Short Four: The Lonely Mouse Maid of Redwall Abbey.

In Redwall Abbey, every critter is expected to do their part and pull their weight. Whether it's tending crops, cooking, or cleaning, everyone has a job. Except young Floor Bored.

She's always been the lazy sort, spending all of her time wedged into a corner of the library, flipping through ancient pages and scrolls. She wasn't exactly reading for the scholarly pursuit, so much as an escape from social interactions. It's quite rude to interrupt another's reading, after all, and the Abbey dwellers were far from rude.

Still, if she thought she could shirk her responsibilities to the Abbey by hiding behind tomes, she was sorely mistaken. Sister Snowdrop had just about enough of the little mouse maid scurrying about her library and leaving messes everywhere, and so she hatched a plan to be rid of her. Bringing Girry into the library one day, the pair approached Floor Bored, who simply rose her book higher as a shield against the oncoming conversation, whatever it was.

"Floor Bored, this is the Abby Recorder, Girry." The old mouse introduced. "I think you'd get along with him well."

Floor hums, but doesn't lower the book. Girry is confused with the whole thing, but goes along with it as Snowdrop starts asking him random historical questions out of the blue. He starts to catch on, however, when, upon answering a question he was a bit fuzzy on, Floor suddenly tells him that he's wrong and provides the correct answer.

"You enjoy history, miss?" Girry asks, getting a shrug from the mouse.

"It's fine, I guess. I read a lot of stuff about it."

"You know, most of the historical records are actually kept in the gatehouse with me. Maybe you'd like to come read some, one day."

Floor looks hesitant until Snowdrop adds, "The gatehouse gets far fewer visitors, you know. Almost no one ever goes there."

Floor perks up, unaware that she was about to set herself on the path of becoming Redwall Abby's next Recorder, and more importantly to Snowdrop, Girry's problem.

*Later*

As part of her training to become Redwall Abby's next recorder, Girry the squirrel has been making Floor Bored study the historical records and testing her on what she's learned. As much as she doesn't enjoy the effort, Girry only nettles her more if she fails so for her peace of mind, she takes the extra time needed to study and memorize.

Having difficulties with the many names she is expected to know, however, Floor has gotten into the habit of creating her own little flash cards to study with. It's actually a revolutionary idea, and soon, she has a bunch of little squares cutout, labeled with the names of important Redwall dwellers from long ago and filled with factoids about them.

One day, while she hides away from a surprise dibbum invasion, one of the youngsters finds her cards and thinks them quite nifty. Floor would have chased after the little thief, but that would have required social interactions, and with a child no less, so she let him go and created a new set of cards. Which were promptly stolen again.

By the time a third dibbum entered the gatehouse, Floor's anger drove her from hiding. "Are you here to steal more cards," she asks the little mouse.

"Steal? Oh no ma'am. I's just wanted some'em cards so as I could join the others in tradin' them," the little one explains innocently, looking around. "Jipper said this' where he got 'em from, so's I came lookin."

"Trading?"

"Oh yes'm! It's a real fun game! All da dibbums want Martin the Warrior, but there's only two, you see?"

"You're trading my cards... as a game?"

"Mhmm! They your's though? Jipper didn't say nothin' 'bout you."

"Yes, those cards were mine. I made them myself," Floor informs angrily, though the heat in her voice is lost on the little one, who just smiles brightly up at her.

"Can ya make some more, miss? I'd be real thankful."

Floor is about to tell him to leave, but then her stomach rumbles, and she groans. Great, now she's mad and hungry, and that means she'll have to walk all the way to the kitchens for a snack. How she hated walking across the Abby. It's too bright out for one, and everyone she passes will smile and wave at her, expecting the same in return. It's just an all-around unpleasant ordeal she'd rather avoid as much as possible.

She looks down at the hopeful baby mouse and is struck with an idea. "You want some cards, hmm? Well, how about you do me a little favor and I'll give you some?"

*Later still*

Two very strange things have happened in Redwall Abby, and Girry is quite sure they can both be linked back to his sun-deprived ward. The first is the utter disappearance of all of the blank parchment in the gatehouse. And the second is the frequent visits to said gatehouse by dibbums, little paws often laden with snacks.

This is most certainly Floor's fault, he knows, but it's hard to be mad when he's finally seeing the mouse maid interact with others, especially the little ones. Of course, he might be a little less glad if he knew Floor Bored has effectively introduced collectable trading cards to Redwall's youth, and is using their distribution to turn the dibbums into her little servants, having them go out and fetch her anything she needs in exchange for a single card each.

Though, she has taken to drawing little illustrations on her info cards to make them more desirable, and her artistic skills have been improving steadily as a result. So that's good, right?

Short Five: Equivalent Exchange.

Floor wants to be closer to Anon. She wants to make sure he can never leave her. So when she meets a strange pony over the dark net simply calling himself The Alchemist, and hears about some of his experiments, she's intrigued. Later, she asks Anon if he wants to go meet a friend, and he happily agrees.

Later, Sowing Life, an alchemist who focuses on the biological aspect of the art reveals his penultimate creation. A talking chimera.

Twilight of course is on the first train to Manehatten to see the scientific marvel. Before then though, she goes to say hi to her friend, Anon and his marefirend, Floor Bored. While she may not have liked the mare Anon has settled down with, thinking her odd and a bit too clingy, she made him happy, so she kept her mouth shut.

Strangely, Anon isn't home when she visits and the neighbors say they haven't seen him over a week. She's confused, but shrugs it off, deciding instead to go straight to the venue that the chimera will be shown at. The arrival of a princess causes a bit of a stir of course, and Sowing Life ends up coming out to greet her himself.

He's absolutely honored a princess would take interest in his work, and invites her in to see the beast before any other pony. Taking him up on the offer, Twilight meets the strange creature caged in a dark room. It growls at Life, but gets oddly excited upon seeing the princess.

It's slightly bigger than a pony, with an oily, black mane and tail. It has back hooves, but its forelegs end in what look like monkey paws. And it's bright grin shows both flat and sharp teeth.

"Why hello there, big guy," Twilight greets. "I heard you can speak, is that true?"

The creature tilts it's head. "Hel-lo? Sp-eak? Hello?"

"Amazing!" Twilight beams, getting closer to the bars to get a better look.

The creature leans forward, its mane falling away from its eyes as it tilts its head. They're small, beady, and a strikingly familiar shade of green that makes Twilight's heart clench At first, she thinks she's crazy, then it speaks again.

"Hello? You came- to say- Hello? Twiggly say Hello?"

The Princess goes rigid.

"Mr. Sowing Life, how long ago did you make this chimera."

"About a week ago," he says, "But I've been researching for much longer than that. I'll admit I actually figured out the method years ago, but I could never find the right components to make it work."

"I see," she whispers, reaching through the bars to pet the creature.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that, your highness, it can be quite aggressive," the stallion warns, but Twilight ignores him.

"You don't need to worry, he'd never hurt me," Twilight responds as the chimaera rubs into her hoof tenderly. "He'd never hurt me... We're... we're friends, isn't that right, big fella?"

"F-riend... Twig-gly friend?"

"That's right. I'm your friend," she says to the creature, gulping before raising her voice. "And which component was that, Sowing Life? A willing pony, or an alien primate? I imagine both must be hard to find. The second even more so."The stallion starts to step away as the princess stands, wings unfurling as she turns around to reveal teary, but glowing eyes. "I know Anon quite well, after all. There's no way he'd ever agree to this."

"Blast, I didn't think anypony would ever figure it out," Life breathes, eyes wide. He turns to flee, but the blast of scorching magic sears along his side, instantly debilitating him before melting the wall it slams into.

"You aren't going anywhere," she hisses. "Anywhere other than trial, you monster!"

Whipping around, she ignores the stab of pain in her heart as her friend flinches away, focusing instead on melting the bars so that the chimera can step through.

"D-don't worry, Anon, we'll fix this," she says, going down to wrap her hooves around the creature's neck. "I'll get every scientist I know to help. Even if I have to drain the royal coffers."

"Pur-ple Smart- Help Anon?"

"That's right, I'll help."

"Help Floor, too?" Twilight only gulps and continues to pet the creature, swolloweing her anger for the mare who no doubt played a part in this.

The only time either Anon or Floor's minds are capable of coherent, individual thought is while they are unconscious. When the chimera sleeps, the mind separates to form two distinct dreamers who share a singular dreamscape. Even so, Floor is constantly running from Anon, too terrified to face him after what she's done.

Princess Luna comes to help find the evasive NEET, but the little mare has spent her entire life hiding from others and being lost in her own imagination. She's even more skilled than the Princess of Dreams when it comes to concealing herself within the wrinkles of abstraction.

Floor thinks Anon is furious with her, but he really just wants to know why. And to tell her he forgives her. His dreams consist of wondering endlessly, calling out her name.

Short Six: Ghosts with the Most.

Anon is spooked at first when he suspects his home to be haunted. Things never get too out of hand, though. They never escalate beyond moved objects, underwear rifling, and suspected voyeurism.

To hopefully quell any real scary shit down the road, Anon even starts to try to accommodate his potential ghost, like leaving his computer on and the browser open when he leaves the house. That stops after his computer is loaded up with viruses and porn ads. After that, he also starts wearing swim trunks in the shower.

Over the year, though, Anon grows comfortable, and even starts to communicate with his house guest. He gets alphabet fridge magnets for them to leave him limited messages, which lets him know their name is Floorb, and gets cable so they can be entertained with something that can't get viruses. He even sits down and watches TV with them, made aware of when he's doing so by a cold spot against his side.

Things are going pretty well until Anon becomes terminally ill. It's cancer, and ponies simply don't know how to treat it in humans. It takes him quickly, and Anon finds himself in bed more often then not. The cold spot migrates to join him there, and the man takes solace in the fact that he has a friend to share his final days with.

Eventually, he falls asleep for the last time, passing peacefully without even realizing it. In fact, the first thing he's even aware of after his death is a mare he's never met snuggled into his side.

"Ah!"

"Ah!"

"Who the hell are you!" Anon shouts, scrambling back.

"Wh-what? You can see me?"

"Of course I can! What, you thought home invaders are magically gifted with invisibility?"

"Well, you never could before..." the mare mumbles, eyes dropping to land on a third figure in the bed.

Both she and Anon go rigid when they notice the body. At first, Anon is about to yell at the sleeping douche, but the words die in his throat as he takes in the man's features. He tries to convince himself he's wrong. Surely this stranger just looks like him. Yes, there's another human in Equestria he hasn't heard about who looks like a gaunt skeleton.

The illusion is cracked when he notices the man's still chest. It shatters completely when the mare looks back up to him and mutters, "You... you died."

Then reality sets in, and Anon is overtaken by despair, burying his face in his hands. The sobs that follow would have robbed him of breath normally, left him gasping, but now he has no such limitations, and he merely remains hunched over, crying, mourning the loss of his life.

No amount of mental preparation could have prepared him for this. There's no telling how long he would have remained like this had it not been for a pair of warm hooves wrapping around his shoulders.

"Shh, it's okay," the mare whispers, rocking him back and forth gently. "I know this is scary, Anon, but you're not alone. I'm here for you."

Anon's sobs begin to slow and he bends his head up to look at the mare. Her mane is long and black, shining in the morning light that manages to peek around the window shades. Her coat is off-white and mostly covered by a rumpled brown hoodie. And her eyes, despite looking tired, are full of kindness.

"Who- who are you?" Anon finds himself asking.

The mare gives a small smile. "Your roomie."

Anon's about to ask what the hell she's talking about, but then it clicks and his eyes go wide.

"Floorb?" he breathes, getting the mare to frown a little.

"It's Floor Bored, but you didn't have enough letters."

Despite himself, Anon huffs a quick laugh. "Sorry, I got them from a bargain bin at a resale shop. Couldn't you have just rearranged the letters around, though?"

She blushes. "Well, moving stuff as a ghost takes a lot of emotional energy, so it was easier said then done."

"That didn't stop you from visiting thirteen different porn sites on my computer and clicking through over a hundred videos."

Her blush deepens. "Horniness is an emotion, too."

Author's Notes:

Short Seven: Anon Becomes a Pet Mouse.

When Anon arrived in Equestria, he was not happy about it. Magic ponyland was interesting, sure, and a once in a lifetime experience, but the thing is, he was a multibillionaire on Earth, and that afforded him some pretty unique experiences in itself. You ever have a safari where you actively hunt down and murder a bunch of endangered animals on your own private island?

Shit's invigorating.

Needless to say, he was quite demanding towards Princess Twilight Sparkle about sending him back. In fact, after two months, she had just about enough of him. So she might have, just maybe, rushed the research along and bought less-than-fresh magic ingredient to get him out of her castle.

The circle was drawn, and Anon stood impatiently in the middle. When Twilight finished casting the spell, she was happy to see that there was no obnoxious human left in the middle. He was home, and if a tiny mouse was launched to the opposite side of the room unnoticed, well who cared?

Anon did, because that stupid horse turned him into said mouse. Now, he would have gotten Twilight's attention, informed her of how much of a monumental fuckup she was, but a certain house pet made things difficult. Mice, as it's known, are the favorite meal of owls.

Chased from the castle by the hungry raptor, Anon finds himself trudging through the snowdrifts of Ponyville's winter, slowly freezing to death. It's by luck that he finds a ground-level basement window with a hole busted through it. Escaping into the damp, but slightly warmer basement, Anon passes out, glad for the momentary respite from the harsh winds outside.

Of course, this is Anonymous, most powerful man on Earth, and he will not stand living in such squalor for long. Making use of his infinite determination, Anon-mouse scales the staircase to reach the toasty kitchen above. Loathsome as it is, he makes do with a meal of stale breadcrumbs and corn chips before lapping condensation away from behind the refrigerator.

For two days, Anon lives like this, slowly mapping out his new kingdom on his tiny legs. Intelligent as he is, he quickly works out pathways and techniques to reach counters and open cupboards, allowing him to eat and drink to his heart's content. Well, not eat pure rubbish at least. Whoever lives here doesn't exactly keep a well-stocked kitchen.

Really, Anon doesn't actually know who lives here as he has yet to see hide or hair of any pony. Roaches, sure, he's had to fight and kill plenty of those little monsters, but no ponies. He plans to rectify this on his journey to the second floor. The pungent odor as he reaches the loft is nearly overpowering to his new, mousy nose, but he perseveres, finding the source to be a closed door.

There's no way he could open the thing, but luckily, the door sat poorly in it's frame, leaving a large enough gap at the bottom for him to slip under. He almost regrets doing so, however, as the smell is even more cloying inside. He sees it though, the pony that owns his current residence, or perhaps owned. He can't quite tell if they're dead, slumped over the desk as they are.

If they are, that could explain the stench. They're wearing a baggy and crumpled brown hoodie that looks like it hasn't seen a proper wash in... ever. The mane appears to share this feature, looking more like a rat's (heh) nest than a hairstyle.

Anon goes to approach the pony, perhaps check for a pulse, before she suddenly twitches in her sleep. The minute movement, it seems, is enough to throw the mare's precarious position off balance, and she topples sideways, nearly crushing Anon. Still shocked by his near death experience, the mouse does nothing as the eyes of the head that had missed crushing him by an inch flutter open.

The mare groans, green eyes slowly focusing on the little rodent before her. Anon expects a scream, for the mare to hop up onto the bed and shriek like an imbecile, but instead, she coos.

"Cute..."

Short Eight: Shot Through the Heart, and I'm to Blame.

Anon tries to make Floor healthy out of love, but she makes it hard, fighting every step of the way. She hates her nutritious food, and fakes so many heart attacks to get out of exercise that it gets to the point that Anon never believes her.

Until the boy who cried wolf scenario plays out.

"A-anon, I uh, I can't feel my left side. It's really weird."

"Come on, Floor, don't get distracted. You've only got ten more pushups to go," the human encourages, ignoring his wife's pained grimace.

"But my chest is really starting to hurt. It's really tight, and feels like there's a boulder sitting on it."

"Sure, Floor, just like how the kale made you go blind when you ate it."

"But-"

"Or how you tried to claim you were allergic to sunlight when we went out for a morning jog."

"Okay, yeah, I was lying those times, but I'm serious now. Something's not right," Floor wheezes, legs shaking from more than just strain.

Anon gives her a hard look for several seconds.

"... Nah, no dice, faker, now pump out those last few pushups, and we can move onto sit ups."

Floor collapse, clenching at her chest as tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

"... Floor?"

*Later, at the hosptial*

Anon sits hunched over besides the hospital bed, head cradled in his hands as he listens to the steady beep of the heart monitor.

It was touch and go for a while, the doctors told him, the heart attack was that severe. Luckily, he had gotten his wife there in time to save her, and with magical assistance, she stood to make a full recovery, any permanent damage to the vital organ slowly being healed over the next several months. Despite the good news, Anon can't feel anything but guilt as he waits for his mare to wake up.

"A-non," a weak voice croaks, getting the human's head to snap up.

"Floor!"

"Wh-what happened," the mare asks, eyes, now sporting dark bags heavier than he'd ever seen on her, slowly cracking open.

He sees those emerald orbs drift around the room confusedly before landing on him, and he can't help but flinch. Despite knowing better, he feels the look is accusatory and not just questioning. "You... you had a heart attack, Floor," Anon begins. "B-but the doctors said you're gonna be alright."

"I... I did?" she wheezes disbelievingly.

Anon's head drops, guilt preventing him from making eye contact any longer. "Yeah, you did... I'm sorry, Floor."

"For what?"

"Because this is all my fault. I pushed you too hard, too fast, and your heart couldn't take it, and then I didn't believe you. My god, I didn't believe you. I'm such a piece of shit."

"No, Anon, don't- “she coughs, and Anon fights the urge to hit the call button. "Don't say that about yourself. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Anon snorts. "Yeah, and I almost killed you."

"I'm remembering it now," Floor continues, eyes going to the ceiling. "The ambulance, when you were holding my hoof, I- I was so scared that I was going to die. I've never cared before, never really believed it would happen, even knowing it would. It was never real, but, then... Anon, I don't want to die young."

Anon swallows thickly. "I know you don't, Floor, I won't push you like that again."

"No, Anon, this only happened because I'm so unhealthy," she says, trying, and mostly failing to get her voice above a whisper. "I should have been listening to you more and not fighting you all the time."

Anon is the one to look confused now. "What are you saying?"

"That I want to get healthy," she affirms, looking more determined than he'd ever seen her on the subject. "Will you still help me, Anon?"

Shocked, Anon says, "Of- of course I will, Floor." Then, as an afterthought, "But we'll take it a lot slower from now on, and will put off the exercise until the doctors say your heart's fully healed."

"That sounds like a good idea," Floor says, a small smile on her lips as she holds a hoof out for Anon to take. "After all, I don't want to give my husband a bum heart. What kind of wife would I be?"

Anon smiles back, taking the proffered hoof and giving it a squeeze. "I'd accept it no matter what its condition... You still accept mine?"

"Where else would I get a human heart? Those things aren't easy to come by." They both chuckle at the joke and smile, feeling far better than the circumstances should allow. They'd get through this, and be stronger for it. Their love would make them strong.

Short Nine: The Floorb Identity.

Floor is a NEET with no discernible skills. It's been this way for as long as she can remember, blank flank and no purpose.

Problem is, she can only remember the last couple of years after she woke up with a grievous head injury and only knowing her name. Going through life without a past or seemingly even a talent, She struggles until she is found by Anonymous, who takes pity on the bedraggled and hungry mare. taking her into his home.

They are comfortable together, finding solace in each other as two individuals separated from their past lives. Things are peaceful until a mysterious stallion enters through Floor's window in the middle of the night, and tries to slit her throat while she's sitting at the computer.

Seeing his reflection in the screen- the glint of the knife- Floor acts on long lost instinct, and defends herself. The fight is short, and the stallion ends up on the floor with a blade embedded in his skull. The ponice eventually label the incident as a home invasion and the resulting death a self-defense, but they can't figure out the identity of the assailant.

Floor is shaken, and not even Anon petting her mane can comfort her. During the fight, it was like she became another mare.

No...

That another mare came up from deep inside to consume her. All other thoughts and feelings were devoured by a cold precision and calculative nature.

Meanwhile, in Canterlot, Princess Celestia mourns the loss of her greatest secret agent on the anniversary of her disappearance. Guilt weighs on her soul as she recalls picking the orphaned foal off the streets, and throwing her into training. Floor Bored never had a childhood or life, both sacrificed for the good of Equestria, and Celestia still punishes herself for that.

Even her cutie mark was one of violence and secrecy. A simple dagger... that only appeared under a black light.

Short Ten: The X-Factor.

Floor and Anon are sitting across from each other in silence after the latter walked in on the former doing something unbelievable. Levitating a corn chip to her mouth while her hooves were busy tapping away at the keyboard.

"So... You have telekinesis," Anon says.

"Yep."

"You know, it shouldn't be such a big deal what with unicorns doing it all over the place-"

"Exactly, so let's drop it."

"-But the whole, not having a horn thing is getting me."

Floor sighs dramatically. "Fine, I'm massively telekinetic, so what? I'm also a NEET."

"That second bits kinda weird to. Are there no jobs for... your kind in Equestria."

"Actually, too many jobs," Floor begins, bobble head falling back as she stares at the ceiling, gesticulating with a scrawny hoof. "Ponies find out you're the world's strongest mind-wielder, and suddenly it's all, 'Save us Professor Bored. You have to lead the X-Pony team. Can you read my mind? Okay, stop reading my mind now. Please stop transmitting images of your marehood into my mind.' Ugh, it's just so annoying."

"Wow... sounds tough when you put it that way. Lot of pressure."

"Yeah it is. Life behind a computer screen is way less taxing. Plus, no super villains shooting lasers at me."

"... Wait, you can read minds?"

"Know what you're going to ask, and yes, I've read your mind."

"How much?"

"Enough to know you think I look like a bobble head."

"... It's meant to be a term of endearment."

"It's okay, Anon, I got used to that in high school. If I didn't, I'd have tossed you out the window with my mind by now."

"So you used to be a super hero, though?"

"For a time..."

*Years ago*

The blast doors give instantly to the crimson beam from Cycloppper's visor as the X-Ponies rush in, quickly taking combat positions as Professor Floor takes center stage within her armored hoverchair.

"It's over, Fagneto! Give up!" Floor calls, hoof moving to her temple in psychic threat.

Being the massive faggot he is, Fagneto just smirks. "You're too late, old friend, the missile will launch in less than a minute, spreading fagcious gas across Equestria, turning all ponies into fags!"

"Not, if we have anything to say about! X-ponies, go!"

Just as the team leaps into action, Fagneto growls and lifts a hoof. Suddenly, Cyclopper and Badger lift off the ground, seized by Fagneto's fagnesis, and the villain uses their bodies to bludgeon our heroes. No! Clyclopper isn't a surprise, he was always a bit lame, but not Badger! He's such a badass, what with the claws and the cigars! How could Floor have made such a tactical error!

Even now, his adimatium skeleton (so shiny and cool!) is being used to beat off the whole team at once! Poor Badger has been turned into the proverbial head cheerleader in the hoofball locker room! Before she can linger too long on that thought, using her telekinesis to low key fiddle with herself, the metallic boned bro slams into her chair, sending her to the hard ground below.

At that same moment, the team just finishes blowing Cyclopper to bits (the school was going to have a hard time explaining that to his parents) and Grey Jeans finally wrestled control of Badger away from Fagneto, pinning him to the ground.

His faggots subdued, Fagneto flees from the room like a cowardly faggot instead of defending his missile, leaving it for our heroes to disarm.

"Quick, Professor Floor, you're the only one with the knowledge to stop that thing!" one of the X-pones yells, turning to see their fearless leader leap to action. Instead, they see their teacher unable to lift her massive head from the floor, legs scrambling to find perches.

"Quick, just roll me over their!" she commands, unable to work her telekinesis on herself as the fall had rattled her fragile, thirty pound brain.

*In the present*

"After that, and a bottle of aspirin, I quit the team. i just couldn't handle the responsibility anymore."

"Wow, that was quite the story," Anon comments, leaning back. "What about Fagneto? Isn't he still out there, trying to turn all of Equestria into faggots?"

Floor waves a hoof dismissively.

"Nah, he got AIDS from a male prostitute a couple weeks later and died."

"Oh... well, good, I guess."

"Yep, without him, there really wasn't much left for the X-Ponies to do, so it was a pretty good time for me to leave, anyway. Nowadays, they mostly just do anti-drug and celibacy seminars for elementary schools. Well, except for Badger. After the Fagneto-thing, I did some digging in his head to figure out why the fagnesis worked on him. Needless to say, he's not around near foals anymore."

"Jeez"

"Tell me about it. That whole team was a train wreck."

Short Eleven: Floorb and Her Evil Clone, Ceile.

Floor Bored is sick of being a cowardly beta. Sick of never being able to go for what she truly wants. Sick of seeing her human roommate, half-naked from the shower, and not jumping his bones. So when she sees an ad on a shady website promising to bring out a better you, she calls and sets up the appointment.

Going to a sleezy part of town, she passes over the bits to the trench coat wearing unicorn, and squares her shoulder. The unicorn zaps her with a spell, and when Floor comes to, it's to see a beaming copy of her own face. Anon is confused when Floor brings home the bubbly doppelganger, but shrugs it off as more Equestrian bullshit. As long as she can find a way to start paying her fair share of rent, she can stay.

Ceiling Excited is exuberant of her Anny-Poo's acceptance of her, and promises to pay him back in full that night. She's everything Floor Bored wishes she could be, after all. Ambitious, great in the sack, and willing to take what she wants. Even by force if she has to. And if Anon happens to reject her- tries to run away- well, she's sure hacking one of his feet off with a hatchet will make him stay with her.

Can Floor save Anon from her crazy yandere clone? Will she make the human fall in love with her in the process? Or will she completely fuck up and get them both murdered by Ceiling Excited? Who knows, but it's sure to be thrilling good time!

Short Eleven-Point-Five: Cousin Ceiling.

Floor's cousin, Ceiling, is staying with her and Anon for a week while she's in the city. Floor is ecstatic at the prospect of spending time with her super cool and confident cousin right up until Ceiling asks about her hunky boyfriend. Once Floor hesitantly explains that she and Anon are, in fact, just friends, Ceiling immediately goes into predator mode and begins trying to seduce Anon.

With every coquettish smile and 'accidental' brush against his thigh, Floor's anger grows. That hussy even has the gall to flash Anon her marebits on several occasions, disguising the action by having to pick up the multitude of items she clumsily drops. On the last night of her stay, she decides to do away with the subtleties entirely and leans up into Anon's side.

"You know, big boy, this is my last night before heading home. Why don't you help me end this trip with a bang?" she asks, giving Anon bedroom eyes.

"Oh, w-well, um, you see, I'm sure that'd be nice, but, uh, I'm sorry, I-" the human stutters before being cut off.

"That's it!" Floor bellows, leaping to the couch and grabbing her cousin by the shoulder. "That's my stallion, Bitch!" Ceiling flies across the room with a yelp, thrown by her cousin's earth pony strength straight into the overflowing garbage can. "Come on, Anon, let's use my bed. The sheets need to be changed anyway," Floor growls, dragging the hapless human to her room and slamming the door.

As the apartment is filled with the sound of straining springs and moans, Ceiling pushes a banana peel from her head and smirks. "Thatta girl, Floor, you claim your stallion," Ceiling says to the empty room. She knew her cousin could do it, she just needed a little motivation first.

And, hey, what's family for?

Short Twelve: Shadows of the Mind.

Floor tells ever more elaborate lies to explain away her NEEThood to Anonymous. They begin to become outright ridiculous when she starts claiming she's a space pirate hiding from the Intergalactic Federation.

Anon, having a bad day, snaps and tells her she's a NEET because she's stupid, lazy, and dropped out of tenth grade. He goes on to tell her that she is not remarkable, she is not special, and she is not the protagonist in her own epic.

She spends the rest of the night whimpering under her covers while Anon goes from angry to aghast at what he said. He tries to talk to her several times, but can't work up the nerve. The next morning, Anon is preparing a big breakfast in way of apology when he hears a piercing scream from Floor's room.

Rushing in, he finds his friend writhing on the bed, covers tossed aside and dark smoke wisping from the corners of her squeezed-shut eyes. He holds onto her and attempts to comfort her through whatever pain she's suffering until eventually she goes limp in unconsciousness.

Later, at the hospital, Anon is waiting anxiously for the doctors prognosis, of which they don't have a clue, when Princess Celestia herself enters the building. In the explanation to follow, she tells Anon of the newly returned Crystal Empire and it's even more recently disposed king.

Unfortunately, Sombra is a crafty one, and had a potent spell in place for just such an occasion. For if Sombra's body dies, his soul shall seek out the closest blood-relative to inhabit. And Floor Bored happens to be a distant decedent and only surviving member of his bloodline.

Now, Floor is at war within her own mind against the incorporeal tyrant, and if she loses, Sombra will return to the realm of the living. The princesses have no intention of letting this happen, and Luna plans on sending a single pony into the turbulent mind to aid the young mare.

Too many minds within one head can spell disaster, and she needs to maintain a steady dreamscape for the battle to take place. "Are you sure, Anonymous?" Princess Celestia asked. "What you're volunteering for is very dangerous. Sombra is not one to be trifled with."

"And do not think that simply because this is a dream, there is no risk of death," Luna adds. "While that might be the case in most dreams, Sombra's dark magic is laced heavily within this one. It might be enough to end your life here should he succeed in ending yours in the dream."

"I'm sure," Anon affirms. "Floor's my friend, and I have to help her."

The princesses share a look before the younger of the two sighs. "Well, I suppose your friendship with the young mare will help. Her mind is less likely to revolt against your presence if she trusts you. I only wish I could join you in this battle, but a fourth mind within her dream could very well turn Floor Bored's brain to mush."

"You don't have to worry, Princess Luna. Sombra won't win; I won't let him if it means Floor's hurt."

Celestia smiles. "This mare sounds quite precious to you," she notes. "It gives me hope of your success."

"She's my best friend," Anon tells her. "And... I owe her an apology besides..."

"Well, you can apologize while you aid her in the kicking of King Sombra flanks," Luna declares, getting up to head towards Floor Bored's hospital room. "Come, Sir Anonymous. We have a battle to win."

With a steely look in his eye, Anon gets up to follow, intent on rescuing his friend and telling her how amazing she is. She was the only pony to not be afraid of him upon their first meeting, after all, and was actually eager to be his friend. Such bravery and kindness was special in its own way, even if she hid it from the rest of the world by shutting herself indoors all day.

Luna was quick to set Anon down across from herself on the opposite side of Floor's bed while she prepared her magic. Anon looked down at Floor, her face screwed up just lightly, smoke still rising from the corners of her eyes. She looked like she was having a nightmare.

"Just hold on, Floor, I'm coming for you..."

Short Thirteen: The NEET and the Console Peasant.

When you had told Floor Bored that you would be getting back into gaming, she seemed really excited, but ever since you went out and got a PoneStation 4, she's been spending all of her time in her room. The most you see of her is a glaring eye, but you shrug it off.

Maybe you've been playing video games more than you should and not spending as much time with her as you used to, but you worked hard for the bits to buy this thing, and ponies are surprisingly good game designers. She'll get over her jealousy eventually, and when she does, the spot next to you on the couch will be open to her when she wants a turn.

You're in the middle of playing some retro-platformer you bought from the electronic store (you want to work your way up through Equestria's gaming history) when Floor, glaring from a crack in her door, snaps and dives from her room with a screech.

"REEEE!" You see the flash of a hammer right before your PS4 bursts into plastic chunks.

"Holy fuck, Floor! What are you doing?!"

She doesn't stop hammering away at the console even as she answers. "I. Can't. Stand. This. Another. Second!" After a final swing, she's left panting heavily as you just stare, shocked at her.

"You just wasted 400 of my bits, because I wasn't paying enough attention to you... Are you seriously that crazy?"

Unexpectedly, she gives you a look as if you're the crazy one, and answers, "What are you talking about? I busted this... thing, because I couldn't stand being under the same roof as a console for another second."

"What?"

"I mean, seriously, Anon, what were you thinking? A console? Even a gaming laptop would've been better than that."

Out of all the things to be upset over, you can't help but be the most so over her criticism of your gaming habits. "What's wrong with consoles? I don't like having to check my specs whenever I want a new game. I just want to plug and play and know my system can handle it."

She stares at you for several seconds before shaking her head solemnly. "Oh Anon, what sort of life you must have led to be so ignorant. Did you're parents lock you in a closet? Maybe you were in a coma for half your life?"

"What the hell are you talking about? My childhood was fine, and I've always played my games on home consoles. its how I like it."

Your scowl and statement doesn't deter the mare as she just shakes her head again. "So sad. I don't know how you got like this, Anon, but don't you worry, I won't rest until we get you right in the head."

You're too stunned to stop her as she walks over, grabs your hand in her mouth, and starts leading you to her bedroom.

"Come on, we'll start filling a cart with all the parts we'll need. I'll teach you how to build a real gaming PC so you won't ever have to go back to consoles again. You'll see, Anon, everything gonna be alright."

Short Fourteen: Pony Swears.

Floor Bored swears like a sailor. Her room had to be made sound proof because her profanity while playing online games was garnering complaints from all the parents in the apartment building. You can't take her out without witnessing at least a dozen mares cover their foals ears as the two of you pass. The cusses that leave her mouth could make Tirek blush.

But the thing is, pony cusses are adorable, and you can't help but giggle whenever your marefriend opens her mouth. Some of your favorites so far:

"You son of a biscuit-eating bulldog!"

"Shut the front door, cootie queen!"

"You are such a lint licker!"

"Son of a motherless goat!"

"Raggle Fraggle!"

"Smegma smurfing Nerf Herder!"

Okay, that last one even had you blushing a bit, but nine times out of ten, it's hilarious. Hearing new cusses from the mare is what drives you to destroy her in Mareio Cart, and do surprise butt sex without lube. One swear though, is no laughing matter.

*Angry Horse Noises!*

You don't know what this means, but even Floor covers her mouth, wide-eyed, the few times she lets it slip, as if she truly regret saying it. The one time she let this one loose in public, she had cracked her hoof on the curb, and the entire world seemed to freeze.

Every pony immediately stopped what they were doing to stare disbelievingly at the NEETmare, a dead silence overtaking the city. Then one pony vomited all over the sidewalk, and the quiet shattered into utter pandemonium. There was a legit angry mob, pitchforks and torches included, chasing the two of you down, and it took several hours and enough cardio to last a lifetime to give them the slip.

After dying her mane blonde- she insisted- and burning the sweater she was wearing, she broke down in your arms, begging forgiveness and for you not to leave her. Still confused by the whole ordeal, you simply held her close and pet her new, golden mane soothingly. When she finally composed herself enough to stand, you took her to the bedroom, and gave her the tender, comforting loving she needed.

You even used lube.

Short Fifteen: On Wings of a NEET.

You, as Anon, have a small garden of potted plants set up on the fire escape of your and Floor's shared apartment. Technically, yes, this is a lease violation as the escape is supposed to remain clear for emergencies, but the pony running the place doesn't give a shit, so neither do you.

"Keep leaning out like that, and you're gonna fall one day," Floor comments from the couch, eating a bowl of cereal lazily.

"I'll be fine, humans are related to monkeys, you know, so heights aren't shit to us."

"Mhmm, and I'm sure your inability to do a single pull-up is in no way representative of your amazing climbing skills."

"S-shut up."

Floor smirks around her spoon as you go to water a hanging planter over the side of the rail. Perhaps you simply filled the watering can too much, or maybe the railing was still slick with morning dew, but either way, next thing you know, gravity is flipped on its head as you topple over the edge. You hear your name called, but you're too preoccupied with the rapidly approaching pavement to care.

Your grandma always said you'd die falling off of a fire escape. Now you regret not entering the lottery that time she starting spewing a bunch of random numbers off while shitting her diaper. How were you supposed to know she was psychic and that it wasn't the alzheimer's speaking?

These were going to be your final thoughts before death, if it wasn't for a pair of beige forelegs wrapping around your waist. You're pretty sure some of the vertebrae in your spine have just been jarred out of place, but at least the ground has stopped flying up towards you.

Actually, about that...

"How," you begin, turning your head to see the wide-eyed Floor. "How did you..." Then you see them, a pair of humongous wings splayed out behind the little mare, flapping lazily from the remains of her torn hoodie. Jesus Christ, they might even be bigger than Celestia's. "Your'e... you're a pegaus?"

She blushes, eyes averting slightly. "Um, yeah... You okay?"

"Fine, but more importantly, you're a pegasus."

"I know, it's weird. They're weird. My wings are kinda..."

"Big. Like, really big."

She blushes more intensely. "Yes... they are."

"And you've been hiding them in your sweater this entire time?"

"... Yes."

"Wow, I always thought you were just fat."

She deadpans. "You know, I don't think a fall from this height would be fatal."

"Can you take me flying?"

"What?"

Short Sixteen: She Have Class, She Give Sass, but Most Importantly, She Make Me Sad.

Equestrian animals are quite amazing, when you really think about. Unlike the dull creatures back on Earth, they are obviously quite intelligent. They're expressive and capable of communicating quite effectively through their gesticulations. And yet, strangely, they are still treated as little more than simple animals and lack much of a civilization at all of their own despite clear capabilities to build one. Most seem perfectly contend to live outdoors and have ponies worry about the big stuff.

Except for three opossums, who have grown tired of the cold and boredom. They want to live like the ponies do, lives full of comfort and convenience. Entertainment always a click away, right beside a bag of tasty chips. So, using the combined power of their three marsupial brains, they device a plan so cunning, so daring, that it's practically guaranteed to get them away from the worm-slurping life.

They craft a pony costume from old fabric collected from the trash heap, topped and tailed with mop heads used to tar a roof, and enter the pony city of Manehattan, communicating with a salvaged Speak-&-Spell toy. Surprisingly, the plan goes off without a hitch, and the fabricated mare soon gets on pony welfare. No one aware that the NEETpone known as Floor Bored is, in reality, three opossums in a pony suit.

Not even her boyfriend.

"I'm telling you, Joe, she's the one," Anon says, looking down at the picture he keeps in his wallet of the love of his life.

"Heh, never thought I'd here you sayin' stuff like that, Anon. I always thought you'd be a lone wolf forever."

"The right mare can change a man, Joe, and she's the right mare."

"Must be quite the looker ta have captured your heart."

"Most beautiful mare in Equestria," Anon agrees, holding out the picture for Joe to look at.

What he sees appears to be a burlap sack tailored into a vaguely pony-shape, black holes for eyes that shine with what appears to be multiple little ones. Squinting, he swears he sees some sort of paw reaching out of a slit in the neck. "Wow... She's a beaut, Anon. You gonna pop the question soon?"

"Damn right," he says. "I just hope she says yes."

And that's exactly what Floor did.

Marrying Anon has worked out better than the opossums ever expected. Janice was sure living with the human would inevitably lead to their cover being blown, but a year in, and he still doesn't suspect a thing. Plus he waits on them paw and other paw all day long, asking only for snuggles in return.

Jill is especially fond of the cuddling, enjoying the warmth and pets through the fabric of their disguise. The only thing that Janice and Jill aren't big fans of is when their husband expects Floor to satisfy his baser needs. Opossum girl-parts don't exactly scale with those of the human male, after all, but they can usually get away with giving him a bj.

As a matter of fact, the opossums have developed a bit of a taste for the salty spunk, all three of them often fighting over who gets the money shot at the end of a session. When actual intercourse is required, however, Janice and Jill defer to Jullia's expertise.

Julia, the shyest of their trio who never mans the Speak-&-Spell, absolutely loves dick, it would seem. Even though she can only fit the head of his member into her tight confines, having to coil her tail around the rest of the shaft to properly pleasure their husband, her tongue hangs out of her mouth the whole time and her eyes roll up into the back of her head.

She often plays dead for thirty minutes afterwards, letting the post coital bliss slowly wear off while rubbing her bloated stomach reverently. Janice and Jill are pretty sure Julia fantasizes about bearing Anon's young, but they don't comment, happy to let their odd friend handle the... hard stuff.

It's always the quiet ones...

Alas, their happiness was doomed to fail as opossums don't live long, and after many happy years of marriage, Anon awakes next to a still wife.

"We've got the autopsy reports back, Mr. Non."

"And? What was it? What took my Floor away?" Anon practically begs, both wanting to know and dreading the answer if it turns out to be something he did.

"Well, it seems she somehow got three opossums inside of her, though that still has the doctors scratching their heads. The end result is that the critters seem to have eaten her from the inside out. All of her internal organs are gone, and we found a old Speak-&-Spell toy in her abdomen. The opossum must have dragged it in."

"Oh God," Anon says, hand flying to his mouth as his face becomes a darker shade of green. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"We also found this," the pony continues, holding out a piece of paper sealed inside a plastic bag. "One of the opossums was holding it. Any idea what it could mean? We think maybe foul play was involved, and this is a clue left behind by the killer."

Anon accepts the sheet shakily and looks down to see a crudely drawn crayon picture of himself holding an opossum in his arms, both he and the creature smiling with hearts around them.

At his feet, along with a bunch of smaller opossums posing as if for a family photo, are blocky, childish letters spelling out 'Anon & Julia forever.'

Anon shakes his head as tears start to fall. "I... I Don't know. I don't understand..."

Short Seventeen: CatPone Floor.

Floorb is on the phone with ponice. "You need to help me! I'm being held captive by a psychopath!" she whispers into he receiver

"Ma'am, I'm gong to need you to calm down. Now, are you in any danger?"

"I'm hiding under the couch, but he's looking for me."

"Who's he? What's your location."

Floor doesn't seem to hear as she stares off into the distance, remembering back on the past three weeks since she got her new roommate in horror. "He sexually assaulted me the first day he moved in. I was scratching my back on the carpet, and he just... just staring rubbing my belly. I bit him, of course, but the shame never left. He's kicked me too, every morning when he wakes up. It's like a sick routine. I try to greet hm as friendly as I can, asking for some food, and he just punts me in the side. Oh, and the food. He starves me. He's locked all the cupboards and the fridge and only lets me eat three times a day. He's left me a bag of chips, but it's half empty now; might as well be all the way empty. I asked for another, but he said I shouldn't finish this bag before they go stale... He tried to drown me three times, molesting me the entire time he has me under. I fight. I want you to know that. I fight every time."

The ponice mare is silent on the other line for several second, before saying, "Ma'am, we triangulated the call, there's officers converging on you're location. We'll have you safe soon, and that... than monster contained. You'll be safe. And ma'am? You are so strong."

Floor closes her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek. "Thank you... Oh! Tell your officers to be careful! He has a monster under his thrall! It's terrifying!"

"A monster?"

"Yes! He calls it... Vac-Doom. It can eat and shout... At the same time!"

"We're sending monster control right away."

"He keeps it locked in the closet whenever he isn't terrorizing me with it."

"Sick bastard... He's an animal abuser too?"

Phew, and there, hopefully there's enough NEETy goodness packed into here to tide you all over. Oh, and of course, some awesome art of the newest, cutest NEET around, Pontaku!

Artist: WhyDoMenHaveNipples.