All the fuss going on with the ladies I've met so far, I wonder if I might be losing interest in mares after this debacle with Seele and the Fork-Tongue lady. It's a boner killer, that's for sure. And then there was Oxy. The brute didn't seem to have taken a liking to me. I don't really know what his problem is, maybe we're both just ditzy enough that he doesn't know what to do with someone else so similar to him? Hmph. Not really my problem is it? Doesn't matter though - I don't have time for that silliness. I have my own issues. My egg, currently wedged between my lips and teeth as carefully as I can carry it, is taking up a lot of my time and focus. I can't pursue dem ladies when I've got a child of my own to bring up! Not that I'm aware of what sort of child it would be. It's not equine, that's for sure.. I've never seen an equine born from an egg, and that's, well, that's fact. Not to mention, I'm starting to get headaches - I've been neglecting my drink with all this commotion between crazy ladies and my baby. Vodka, you sweet, sweet (not sweet) drink that dulls my pain, dulls my memories. You take me away from the horror of my childhood, and make the blandness and inevitability of the day seem tolerable.

I see before me a pretty looking lady standing all by her lonesome. Except she's not all lonesome. She's got a bird with her. Handsome fella. I approach them slowly, taking in their appearances. He's a medium-sized raven-y type guy. Dark with some purple-y tints. Smarter than your average avian, I'd guess. She's a little bit taller than me, but is built very differently. She has no pointy horns on her, and I wonder if she's one of the normal horses. Nope, she's not .. but.. she's not rightly a normal pegasus either. Like someone couldn't make up their mind and said, "Well fuck it, a wing here and no wing there, a good day's work!" I wonder if it annoys her to be all mismatched like that. She seems to be going about her business like it's normal, so, must be. She's finishing up a conversation with her bird when I approach.

Closing in on them, I give a polite nod - even a drunk man can have manners! - and promptly have a seat on my rotund rear. I gently set my egg down between my hooves, nestling it there to keep it from rolling away. "G'evening ma'am, sir." I greet them both with a crooked smile and another nod, then lower my head to my flask and with skilled lips and teeth - I've been at this for awhile, folks - I tip it back and let the burning liquid trickle down my throat. I'm a little surprised at how slowly it comes out. Could it be that.. OH SHIT. I drop the flask against my chest and my eyes are wide. I'M RUNNING OUT OF VODKA. My heart begins to race, and I sit there staring at the pair as my mind goes blank with mild panic. Oh, oh baby... You don't wanna see papa without his drank.


Text text text.
"Words words words."