They're ALIVE!

Oh.. What to write, what to write. Stupid writers block.

I looked around my room, bored out of my mind. The clock said 8:12, great, whole hour before I could get online. Hmmm. ponies. Heh, the silly, brightly colored critters were everywhere! On my dressers, book cases, art desk, floor, closet, everywhere you looked.

"Well, you could write about us." someone said.

Frowning, I looked around. "Yah, I'm going crazy. Ok, who said that?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't that glow in the dark raptor over there," the voice said.

I looked over my art desk and saw Cherries Jubilee starting straight at me.

"Excuse me, did you just say something?" Idiot. Yah, I'm loosing it. My toys are talking to me and I sound like some stupid, scripted Disney character!

"Yes." The pony walked across my desk and promptly kicked the orange glow- in-the-dark raptor my sister had bought me on my 18th b-day on the floor. "Never did like him," she muttered, staring at the discarded toy. "OH! Yes! Your writers block. Why don't you write about how you found me and the others?"

I just kept staring at the little peach horse. Without knowing I did it, I moved over to my desk and sat down, taking a closer look at the toy.

"It's rude to stare, you know."

"Umm. My toys are talking to me." My head fell down to the desktop. "Great. I'm hallucinating!"

"No you're not."

"I have to be. Toys don't talk."

"Well, I am. And I expect the other ponies will be too soon."

I looked up at her. "You mean my entire collection may start talking to me?!"

"Quite possibly."

"Oye." My head hit the desk again.

"Well, if you're not going to write about me and the other ponies with me, I suggest you write about Sugar Sweet. She's got quite an interesting history, being from the UK and all. Then there's Sky Rocket; she could tell you some stories!"

"Why?"

"Well, Twinkle Eye ponies see life differently," the pony began.

"No!" I interrupted. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Probably because you're so bored," was the short reply.

"Oh, get off it!" a voice came from the box of ponies on the floor. "Can't you just leave her alone? If you don't, you'll end up like her."

Looking in the box of ponies to be fixed up and donor fakies, I found Baby North Star AKA Vampire Pony. She flew up to the desks level, her long blue tail making the flight a little awkward.

"Here's the short of it," she said. "All of us were loved once, but for some reason or other we were ditched. Given away, trashed, you know the drill. Well, now someone cares for us again. So, we just wanted to say thanks, have a good life, and either finish customizing Corpsy or burry her!"

"Excuse me?" Oooh. Scary little pony without clear eyesight is telling me what to do.

"You heard me. Finish the job on Corpsy."

"Who is Corpsy?" Cherries asked.

"She used to be a parasol, but had Glories tail and no symbol. Dork-o here decided to try customizing her. So, what's she do? Try a nice dye bath or paint? No! She used cheep nailpolish! Course it wasn't too thick and its color wasn't too good. Now, that pony is nice and corpse colored and she's lost her head."

"Hehe." I giggled. "Cause of death: Decapitation!"

"It's not funny," Vampy said.

"I should say not!" The horrified Cherries replied.

"Oh? You think that's bad, you try keeping her body in one place so Smarty doesn't notice it walking around!"

Cherries was making some lovely faces at Vamps descriptions. I think her plastic actually took on a green tinge!

"Oh, Ok." I relented. I reached down into the box of pony parts and pulled out Corpse ponies head and body and promptly stuck them back together. "There. Better?" I studied the pony, half expecting her to say something.

"She's mad at you," Vampy informed me. "It'll probably be a while before she says anything to you."

Meanwhile, Cherries Jubilee had pulled over my notebook and a pen. "Here, go on and write," she encouraged.

Shrugging, I tossed Corpsy back into the box and grabbed the pen. I wrote for several minutes before Cherries broke in.

"So, what you writing? Is it an exciting story or a poem?"

"My will."

"Your will? What's that?"

"It's a document that takes care of everything I own when I die."

"What? You're going to kill yourself?" Vampy couldn't resist adding.

"No. But I may introduce you to the microwave."

She studied my face for a moment, then hid behind the beaded purse I had tossed on my desk some days ago.

"That wasn't very nice," Cherries scolded me.

"Eh, she was getting annoying. Well, it's quarter till! Think I'll go get ready for bed then run downstairs to chat with my friends. Later pony!" I got up and started getting in my jammies.

"Can I come with you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cause I don't believe you're really talking to me. And, I'll just spend an hour or so chatting to C'xoila. Bye!"

I tossed a dirty shirt on the pony and left it at that.

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