//------------------------------// // Be good kids or this will happen // Story: Waifu and Husbando Emporium // by Tyrannosaurus_Tux //------------------------------// Hell is being the cashier for this godforsaken place.  I should introduce myself. I’m Nate, and I don’t quite remember what my life was, what I did, or how I died. No matter how hard I try to remember, the memories of anywhere other than this place elude me. Nothing but my name. Doesn’t matter now, anyway. This is my tortured existence now. My apartment sits on top of the store, and that’s about it. There exists no outside world. The fridge and pantry are thankfully always full, but the only thing on TV is Disney sitcoms, as well as a My Little Pony channel. A channel that shows nothing but colorful equines in the search of more hats to wear or something. Like I said, hell. My employer remains hidden, and my only payment so far it seems is that my pantry remains full and I still somehow remain sane. At first, it almost looked like a little girl’s toy store, what with the dolls and the so-called “collectible figurines”. On closer inspection, though, not only is there no branding on the packaging, but the true nature of these things is not so... benign.  Take this customer, for example. Well, for all I know, it’s the same customer, what with the freaky features. Or, more accurately, the lack of any and all features whatsoever. It’s like he stepped off a cartoon. His blank face is only filled by a mouth, and the rest of him is as white as paper. That’s not to say he is caucasian, but that he literally has no identifying features other than he’s pure white and he’s got a mouth. Well, he seems to not wear clothing, but his cartoon shape means I adjusted quickly. The lack of any and all anatomy also helps. There only ever seems to be one customer at a time, although the store itself is quite sizable. I can only watch from behind the counter as the entities collectively known as “customer” peruse the empty aisles and look at little Barbie, Ken, pony and other weird creature toys. Let’s see if I still remember what those are called: Unicorns, Changelings, Pegasi, Gryphons, Alicorns, uh... Yeah. Weird creatures. The customer would make one (or more) selections, then I would ring them up. But it makes no sense. The cash register itself lacks a money slot, and customers always just want to catalogue their choice before walking out into the white void, instantly vanishing. I once tried to leave, once upon a time, but the store itself seems to be the only thing occupying this plane of existence. I stepped over the precipice, found no ground to step on, fell out into the white, and was pulled back in again, as if by sheer gravity. This truly is a place that defies explanation. In that time since, I’ve learned what the store was actually called. Waifu and Husbando Emporium. But what the hell’s a waifu? What’s a husbando? I have some ideas, but... I would have to check one out myself to be sure. Whenever it is quiet, without a customer, I would peruse the isles. The packages of dolls had almost no other markings on them save for their names and a short biography. Trixie Lulamoon.  Flash Sentry.  Fluttershy. Eru Chitanda. Applejack. Braeburn. Stephanie Dola. Stephen Colbert. Gilda. Queen Chrysalis. Princess Luna. Big Mac. Many, many options. These are obviously little cartoon toys made for kids, but... Wait a minute. The grin on the customer’s face. The way he was scrutinizing the dolls. The way they always seem to leap from the cashier into the aether, along with their merchandise. These aren’t just dolls, I realize with a start. This entire place isn’t what it seemed, but did that matter? The customers never stuck around for chit-chat after they’ve made their selection, registering and leaving. They never leave without those dolls.  They’re my ticket out. I take one at random, and then I rang myself up with the purchase. Going out the doors and windows may not have yielded results, but this might. That’s when things... went wrong. Oh, the register went through with the purchase, alright. The clacking of old keys and the like was the only sound to disturb this otherwise eerily place. That’s when there was a flash of light, and the package disappeared from my grasp. Instead, a small horse appeared on my counter, and it stood snout-to-nose with me. It was the same color as the toy, with a purple coat and mane, and a cutesy horn jutting though There was only enough time to recoil from the giant, vibrant violet eyes that suddenly engulfed my field of vision, and for it to do the same when the intercom sparked to life with a three-tone gong. ‘No products may be active within the Emporium’s boundaries. In light of your violation of the conditions of your contract, you are hereby dismissed.’ The small hor- pony began to panic, and it made little panicked horse noises. We were both picked up and hoisted off the floor, as if by giant, invisible hands. The sliding doors to this plane of reality moved open, and with a sound of rushing air, we were both pulled out of the store. I barely got to see the Emporium itself as it quickly disappeared from view, becoming first a structure in the distance, then a dot, then nothing. I lost consciousness. Grass. Land. Sky. I shot up from lying on my back from shock. I haven’t seen these things... since... Memories of my former life began to flood in. My family. My friends. My death. With this knowledge, I finally knew who I was. Nate, a cashier for McDonalds. Even if it was an inane existence, the sheer knowing brought tears to my eyes. I enjoyed the sensation of knowing again, wrapping my arms around myself. That was then the memory of my death came back strong. It was at an intersection. The other driver was drunk. My body got crushed. I only had to experience of being broken and compressed by steel until my body gave up on me and I died. That was when I woke up in the shop, and now...? My musing was interrupted by the sight of something... someone in front of me, superposing a medieval-looking village in the distance. It only took one moment to recognize the quadruped in front of me, and that was while she was introducing herself to me, extending a purple forehoof to me. She asked me with that kindly, soft voice of hers, “Are you okay, mister? My name is--” “Twilight Sparkle,” I barely manage to breathe. I remembered what a waifu is. I looked into her eyes. Yes, there was a connection between us, now that I saw her. One that crossed any possible borders that meant that we were bound by fate to be together, perhaps until the end of time. It would make for a lovely romance if I wanted any of it. My name is Nate Wills, and I cannot scream hard enough. My lungs are insufficient to convey the extreme panic I feel about this. I cannot run away fast enough. My legs are nowhere fast enough to carry me sufficiently from this place or what I had done. No amount of running would undo my actions in the Emporium. I have a horse waifu.