И тебе поздорову. Не уверен, ибо это, мягко говоря, не самое качественное из того, что я встречал.
You get home after work, surprisingly cheery about the day.
As you head upstairs you hear a faint sigh coming from Lyras room.
And for once, its not the sexual kind.
You didnt even know there was a sexual kind before living here.
A slight sniffle comes from her room.
Youre torn between asking her whats wrong, and avoiding risking walking in on some strange, absurd crying fetish.
Eh, youve seen her do worse. You walk in to ask and thankfully see no dragon dildos, no beefy stallions, and no squash soup. Only a little mint horse sitting on a bed.
Come on, you had me help convert the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000 into a sex-automaton, you can talk to me.
Fine She sighs, I got fired from my job, my father disowned me, I might have an STD or a dozen, and the Mayor is demanding I pay to remove all of the semen stains I got on town hall.
Wow, that that sucks.
She looks up at you, her ears down and eyes threatening to fill with tears.
Ive been fucked over by life, havent I?
Yeah. No putting it any other way.
Suddenly, she springs up, almost excited.
Her horn glows, and a checklist and quill fly over from the dresser.
YES! I can cross it off my list now!
Things to Fuck/be Fucked by. Number 3947: Life Itself. THANKS ANON!
So wait, those things didnt happen?
Nope, dont have a job, my father disowned me a while ago, use protection, and I told the mayor to take it from your bank account.
Lyra, Ive already been bouncing checks.
Oh, well, uh Good luck Anon! Im going to head to a strip joint, see you later!
God damn it.
Fucking Slutty Ponies.