So, as you can probably tell, I’m alive right now. That means I’m not dead. It also means that whatever it was that was hitting my roof earlier probably wasn’t caused by Derpy. If she did it then I’d probably be back in the hospital. That means that somepony else is dropping stuff on my roof. I don’t know how to feel about that. I’ll check later when I leave for work.

I had visitors again today. Of course I didn’t even respond to the knocking at my front door, but I could hear them banging away. There were six different instances of it this time. That means that, coupled with the ones from Sunday, I have eleven unidentified knockers.

What?

What’s so funny?

Stop it. Stop laughing. Booky, I swear I’ll turn you into toiletry if you don’t stop.

Thank you.

Now, let’s analyze each of them.

The first of the knockings on Sunday came when I was in the middle of teaching my couch how to properly whip my tail back and forth. Think of it like this, a clumsy sound that exuded the feeling that whoever was knocking was well aware of how to maximize the sound of their knocking without it sounding planned or casual. I can only assume that means that whoever this was does a lot of knocking and thus goes door to door often enough that effectively knocking has become habit. Unfortunately, I do not know anypony who has such a habit…or…at least I don’t think I do.

Differing greatly from the clumsy effectiveness of the first knocker, the second was far more reserved and calculated. Rather some absentminded banging, this knocker had precise knocks that seemed to respect the right of the pony inside to ignore said knocking. That tells me that whoever this knocker was has a polite nature about them. Also, from the lack of urgency of the knocks I could tell that it wasn’t something of pressing importance. I have an idea of who this one could’ve been, but I’m really unsure as it could be one of three ponies: Rarity, Octavia, or -assuming her nature is such- Rose. If it’s Rarity, then I have little clue as to why she would come to see me. I haven’t ordered anything from her lately and we aren’t necessarily social as I’ve only conversed with her on terms of business. If it were Octavia then I have a good idea of why she might want to see me. I mean, first I run off to Canterlot without telling her and then I suddenly come back lock myself away. She might find that odd enough to seek answers. I haven’t any clue about Rose. Is it possible she was checking up on me for the sake of the conspiracy? Maybe. Is it possible she secretly is obsessed with me and was only trying to catch a whiff of my scent? Maybe. There are honestly so many possibilities as to who this is that I haven’t the slightest clue as to which of these three it could be.

This is the same one as the very first knocker. It was a bit more forceful that time around and I will note that whoever it was stuck around longer than they did the first time. Should I also mention that I think I heard my name being called? No? Alrighty, I won’t mention it then. Unlike the first time this pony came knocking at my front door -tell me whether or not you see what I did there, cause I’m not exactly sure of it myself- there wasn’t any further clues as to the identity of the knocker.

At first I was really confused by whoever this was. You see, they started knocking really lightly as if they weren’t sure of whom it was that lived in my house. That or they were trying not to get my attention…which would be redundant. That lasted for all of two minutes before whoever it was started to try and break my damn door down. I was too drunk to know otherwise, but I honestly thought that conflict incarnate was waiting for me on the other side of that scary door. To be more blunt with my description of whoever this was, they were quiet at first and then very forceful. I don’t even know anypony that bipolar. Well, except for myself of course, but I was inside and thus incapable of knocking on the outside of the door while being on the inside to be scared of the knocking on the outside.

Insert planned out knocking here. I have never heard a more tactical knock in my life. It was planned. There was exactly one minute in-between the three bursts of knocking. And I’m not talking about somepony who has experience with the knocking of doors. I’m talking about somepony who is a master of planning things. I actually fell asleep due to how monotonous it was. That being written rather than said -cause, you know, I don’t speak while I write- I’m not sure whether or not there was more to the knocking. Not that there needed to be more. I’ve already figured out who this one was. Brace yourself; it was Twilight Sparkle. Yep, the nerd. Who else would time their knocks so perfectly?

OH SWEET CRAP! THIS ONE WAS THE ASBOLUTE WORST! I was lulling around peacefully being drunk when the heavens above unleashed and unholy wrath upon my front door. Whatever pony came by earlier and displayed severe bipolarness came back with a bucking vengeance. Unlike the first time, this pony started off with knocks that should get them arrested for assault. What made it worse was that it practically scared me right out of my skin. Ponies shouldn’t be allowed to be that aggressive with doors. I hope they had something important to tell me cause I’m never -EVER- going to answer the door when this pony comes knocking at my front door.

This marks the return of my first visitor. Whoever this was must’ve really wanted my attention to come by three times in
one damn day. Unlike the second time, this was more like the first time. There was a distinct difference though; each knock seemed to linger. It was like whoever it was struck the door and then let their hoof rest there for a few seconds. How do I know? Well, sometimes when I get drunk, I become hyper observant. The sound of letting your hooves strike a door is distinctly different than the sound of just rattling on with separate strikes. It makes a solid *thlunk* sound when you strike wood with hooves like that, which is different from the distinct *clock* sound that emanates from regular knocking.

First knock today is the same first knock from Sunday. Which means this pony works in the morning or is just awake at an unreasonable hour. What was weird was that the knocking was the exact same as the first one from Sunday. Which means there’s a serious amount of OCD going on here with this pony. I have an idea of who they are, but I’m not sold on it. I’m thinking the Derptard, but it could easily be the Pinktard too.

It’s almost like freaking clockwork! This knocker is the exact same one as the second one on Sunday! I swear, evidence of that damn conspiracy is EVERYWHERE! What’s saved my damn sanity is that this knocker at least varied things up a bit by sounding a tad bit worried. You see, the knocks retained a sense of order while coming off sounding a little disjointed by something. I can only assume that means that whoever this is has some misplaced place for me in their heart. To be real here, I felt really bad about not answering this one. However, that’s just what THEY want. THEY want me to answer the door. Want to know what happens if I open the door? BAM! Dead. Right there in my own front door. Nope, it’ll take more to get me. I’M A DAMN PRO! COME AT ME CONSPIRACY!

Remember how I said the previous knocks were all pretty unique and weird? Yeah, I think I got visited by a giant damn woodpecker or some crap. What’s that? Am I comparing to a woodpecker? No, I’m downright believing that this was an actual woodpecker who came to my door and knocked for ten torturous minutes. There are only two ponies in existence that this could conceivably be; either the Pinktard or the Derptard. I know I said that already, but it’s true here as well. It works cause there are two of each.

Hey generic knocker, how are you? Generic response? Are you sure? How generic of you! Booky, in case you didn’t catch just what trait this knocker most exemplifies; it’s how soft it was compared to all of the others. I barely heard this damn knock and I feel confident I would’ve had I not been counting dust on my couch. What was also weird was just inconsistent this one was. Normally knocks occur in a set of three separate sets of three knocks. This one was weird. Unless I miscounted, which is entirely possible given how damn quiet they were, this knocker went with a set of three sets of differing number of knocks in this order: five, three, and seven. What have I taken away from the odd number of knocks and odd volume of said knocks? Well, I’ve learned that the arm of my couch has seven hundred and twenty-two thousand pieces of dust on it. Honestly, I don’t know what to think of this one other than it could be code, which would be stupid given the fact that it sounded like field mice humping.

Cue the return of Twilight Sparkle! Yep, she came back. Obviously her. Only difference being that her knocks were interrupted with a sneeze. Hopefully my thoughts of isolation got her sick. Wouldn’t that be great?

As if to make my life whole once more, the last visitor to my front door was none other than either the retarded bane of my existence or the pink retarded bane of my existence. The very second I recognized the pattern I got back to my invisible puzzle of the invisible ghost puppies in the visibility center.

I’ll take a look at my roof later when I leave for work. Can’t take the chance that whoever was bothering be is waiting outside the door with a double-bladed shovel. Yeah, I think it’s possible I’m suffering from a light paranoia.