Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies
A pony story by Joseph Raszagal
As inspired by stuff best kept away from children
Intermission (Chapter X) – When She Loved Me

How about I regale you all with a fond tale? You'd like that, right?

It's about two great generals who were engaged in an apocalyptic struggle for survival.

In the Red Corner, there was me, Jeremy Robin; master of kung-fu, friend to all living things, and Chosen One to hold aloft the mighty Couch Comforter. In the Blue Corner stood my sister, Emily Robin; my villainous arch rival with a penchant for Starscream level treachery and wielding her lightning-quick dual pillow blades.

She swung to kill, but with my larger weapon and it's considerably greater surface area, I expertly defended against her assault and stuck back with my own flurry of deadly blows. A mere mortal would have succumbed to my might, but I knew my sister well and kept in mind her quasi-deity status. I had to be efficient and strategic, carefully keeping my blind spots behind me and her right in front. But Emily knew this too and kept an ever-flowing sidestep pace, putting forth a valiant effort at slipping behind me and slaying the unslayable.

...

I'm not fooling anyone, am I?

So, yeah, it was around the 20th pillow to the face that my fantasy started to crumble around me. My sister had always been a little bit bigger than me, my big sister after all, but she didn't have to throw it in my face like that and always use it to her advantage.

I mean, c'mon, that's just plain rude.

"Ready to say 'Uncle'?" Emily teased, twirling one of her pillows by the case like a nunchaku. "You know you're gonna."

"Heck no!" I shot back, reaffirming my grip on my giant piece of foam. "A good soldier never surrenders! Now prepare to face defeat at my hands, vile scourge of my bedroom!"

"Kids, are you causing a ruckus in there?" called the voice of our mother, currently in the middle of cooking us some much-needed fuel in the form of spaghetti and meatballs.

"Uhhh..." we simultaneously replied, "...no?"

"If I come in there, I won't find a mess, will I?"

Quickly, Emily and I surveyed our surroundings.

There... um... well, there had been some collateral damage. Also, we managed to flip the couch over somehow. Probably how I ended up with the comforter.

It's amazing the things you can forget when you're in the heat of the moment, fighting for your life.

"Uhhh... no?" we again replied, trading doomed glances back and forth.

Wasting no time, mom then sighed and asked, "You flipped it over again, didn't you?"

"And theoretically, if we said 'yes'?" Emily questioned back.

With another sigh, mom said, "Grounded."

But we didn't hear her. We knew our fate. We were already working on turning the large seat back over to see if we could be spared.

"How is this thing so heavy?" I grunted, failing to budge it at all.

"You think maybe we're just weak?" my sister whispered back, rolling her eyes as she too couldn't move it.

Weak? No.

Unpolished and under-trained? Perhaps.

However, just as one and one made two, two Robins made... a bluejay or something, I dunno, but the point is there were two of us.

"C'mon, we can do it," I said with a nod. "We just have to put aside our differences for the common good."

"You mean like your being a giant dummy?"

"How about our difference in opinion then?"

"Good return," she giggled, scruffing the top of my shaggy head with her hand. "Alright, let's do this. United we stand, divided we get grounded. Let's give it all we've got."

It was then that our latent superpowers manifested.

Like the Incredible Hulk, but powered by fear as opposed to anger, I imagined the fate worse than death awaiting me and pushed on the couch with all of my newly-acquired strength. Meanwhile, on Emily's side of the coin, she must have gained the power of Hercules, Thor, and Superman all at once because with one colossal shove she picked up all of the remaining slack and successfully flipped the couch back into it's correct position... maybe a few feet to the left, but whatever, details.

With the speed of a tomahawk missile, we then set about sliding the big chair those last remaining inches, stealthily reapplying its comforters just as our mother strode into the room.

Because we're ninjas.

"I heard the whole thing, you two. I was only a room away," mom smirked.

Darn, she always was such a chessmaster, how could we have believed she wouldn't know of our clever plan?

"But, but it's back where it was now!" I protested, putting on my most pleading look.

I've been trained from birth how to best deal with my parents.

No humility. Look as pathetic as possible.

Unfortunately, mom didn't buy it and instead shook her head and said, "Just because you managed to fix a problem you caused doesn't mean that you shouldn't be punished for causing the problem in the first place. Don't you agree?"

Ah, crud. Logic. Enemy to all children.

"It'll be lights out right after dinner, alright? No staying up late and no TV. You both have school in the morning anyway."

With downcast eyes, we admitted our defeat and together replied, "Yes, ma'am."

Returning from whence she came, our mother then departed us just as quickly as she had appeared, muttering something about Parmesan cheese along the way.

As Emily and I turned to head upstairs to our room, my sister grinned and said, “Not bad back there in the fight, by the way. You probably should have been the one with two pillows though, 'cause you're faster. It doesn't make a lot of sense for the littlest guy to wield the biggest weapon.”

“Who said my fighting style was ever supposed to make sense? I'm Dan Hibiki, master of the Saikyuo-Ryuu Style!”

“Ugh,” she groaned, blushing. “Just because you can beat me at one thing, and with the worst character, doesn't mean you get to brag.”

“Is that so? Wanna put your money where your mouth is before mom finishes dinner?”

Smiling, she darted up the stairwell and hollered back, “You're on, Shrimp!”

And so the game began again~

To be continued in our regularly-scheduled programming, Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies...