Sparkplug woke up at 7:42, just like he did every morning. He got out of his bed and made it immaculately. It was almost as if the sheets were vacuum sealed to the mattress. Walking into the bathroom, he stepped into the shower and scrubbed his entire body for the rest of the hour. At precisely eight o'clock he stepped out of his shower and walked to the sink. Telekinetically lifting his toothbrush, he brushed his teeth. Lower teeth first, upper teeth second, then the gums and roof of his mouth, and finally he brushed his tongue. Following this, Sparkplug magically floated his comb to his head and brushed his black mane, counting each stroke until he had reached twenty three. Every day, he executed this routine.
Then to finish it all he looked in the mirror and told himself, "I am not a junkie."
Junkies were disorderly. Junkies were messy. Junkies had bad hygiene. Junkies didn't care about how they looked. Sparkplug didn't have any of these traits.
He then proceeded to take five blue and orange pills when the small bathroom clock told him it was 9:15. He wanted another, but abstained. Junkies were undisciplined. Sparkplug was disciplined.
Sparkplug went downstairs. It was still 9:15. He would have to wait another two minutes before leaving the door to go to work. He sat and listened to the clock tick. As he waited, he silently wished to himself that the world was like his clock. Always working. Always truthful. All the little pieces working together for one goal. Each piece knew it's duty and served the clock faithfully. It kept the clock running smoothly. That was his favorite thing about clocks. The way they had a rhythmic quality to them. The sixty ticks per minute to him were like a metronome to a musician, his routine was his music. What junkie thinks like that? He mused smugly while he smiled to himself. Juniper had no idea what the fuck she was talking about. He thought, recalling his ex wife's last words to him before slamming the door, leaving him.
"You're a FUCKING JUNKIE Sparkplug! You're just the only pony that doesn't see it!
9:17, time to go to work.
Junkies didn't have jobs.
"Hide the drugs!" Nimbus hastily whispered to Blossom. She immediately began running around the house frantically. Nimbus's mind was racing, imagining what would happen if the police came in. It went a little something like this:
An officer kicked the door in. "Get on the ground, motherfucker!"
"Okay Okay!" Nimbus cried as he hit the floor. He was shaking worse than any fiend he ever knew.
"Is there anyone else in the house?" An officer, a unicorn, barked at him. He magically pulled his gun out of its holster.
Nimbus remained silent. He just hoped that whatever these pigs did to him, Blossom wouldn't try anything stupid.
"Not talking, huh? We can fix that." The unicorn officer chuckled darkly as he pressed the gun to Nimbus's head. The cold steel felt apathetic. The gun didn't care. It wouldn't care, as long as it killed. After all, that was what it was made for.
"I'm here," Blossom whimpered. The fear an panic in her eyes told Nimbus what he needed to do.
"I kidnapped her," Nimbus said, the lie was lame but it could just maybe get her out of this. "Got her addicted to candies."
"You and I both know that's bullshit, son," The officer replied. Nimbus's heart sank. "But fuck it, if it'll lock you up longer; I'm game."
The cop turned to Blossom. "Get the fuck outta here before I arrest you too, you fuckin' junkie cunt." Blossom hesitated. The unicorn pointed his gun at her. That was enough to get her to run out of the house.
"So, Nimbus. We got you for possession, dealing, and now," he laughed wickedly,"Kidnapping. It looks like you got quite a bit of time to do. I hope it was worth it." By the officer's tone, Nimbus could tell he didn't.
Six weeks later..
"Hey, Nimbitch, get over here!" An inmate in the prison cafeteria called to a shivering pegasus with a rotting wing.
"W-what d-d-do y-you w-w-ant?" Nimbus said through chattering teeth. Even after six weeks, withdrawals were hitting him hard. He slowly walked over to the table where the pony was sitting. he knew something wasn't right here.
"Gotta present for ya!" The pony laughed cruelly as he produced a toothbrush shiv out of nowhere and drove it into Nimbus's neck. Blood gushed from the wound as the shiv struck a vital artery. Nimbus collapsed. The last sound he would ever hear would be the cruel laughing of the inmate who killed him.
Three months later..
"Well, do you want the candies or not? Cause if you don't, get out of here and stop wasting my time." The old stallion said impatiently.
"I-I do.. I've just.. I've never done something like this before," Blossom whispered. She was on the verge of tears.
"Look, if you want em you gotta work for em," he sighed. The first time chicks were always like this. He knew what she'd say. It's what they all say. He didn't care. He was just happy he had a new toy.
"Can we at least turn the lights off?"
Nimbus decided he wasn't gonna let that nightmare scenario happen. He couldn't let it happen. He was going to answer the door. He could find a way out of this. He had to find a way way out of this. His heart pounding, Nimbus slowly crept towards the door.
7:14. Time to visit friends. Sparkplug drove to his friend Nimbus's house. He loved to hang out with Nimbus and Blossom, even if they were junkies. Friends were friends. He'd do anything for them, even though Nimbus had pulled a hilarious prank and changed all the clocks in Sparkplug's house to different times once.
In a sudden flash of creativity, Sparkplug knew he would get his revenge. And he had just the spell to do it. Deciding it was a worth being just a little off schedule (early was always better than late, junkies were late), he put the gas pedal to the floor and sped off to his friend's house.
When he reached the house, he took five more blue and orange pills and got out of the car. He giddily trotted up to the front door of the house. With a mischievous grin that would make Discord proud, Sparkplug cleared his throat as his horn lit up..
THUMP THUMP THUMP
"POLICE! OPEN UP!"