“Bah! Yeah… yes. Mhm.”
>You’re an incredibly intoxicated green man from outer space.
>That means you’re Anonymous. No last other names. Just, Anonymous.
>And right now, you’re inside the only bar in Ponyville. 
>It’s a dingy, poorly lit, wooden thatch-roofed building that smells faintly of mold.
>That doesn’t bother you, though. Been in worse places before.
>Not to mention the fact that you need your lifeblood.
>Alcohol. 
>At this point you almost never leave the place.
>You’re not just considered a regular at this point, you’re more then that.
“Speakin’ of regulamars, what even IS an regulation?”
>Damn, that’s a good question.
>Hmmm…

>Now you’re Foamy Scotch.
>Best bartender this side of Ponyville.
>Of course, it’s not like you have any competition. But if stallions think you’re wealthy, let em’. They’re all over you anyways. 
>Doesn’t help that you’re a muscled and well built at an intimidating 3’8”. Stallions like em’ taller.
>No one’s taller than Anon, though. 
>That poor Anon. No mare of his specie around. 
>Maybe they’d help corral him, too.
>He’s been hanging around your bar for the past month almost constantly.
>At first it seemed more like an attempt to ‘escort’ some mares home.
>But after he ordered some 5%, straight, you knew he was for real.
>He asked for 50% at first, poor dear probably had never had alcohol before and didn’t know what types there were. 
>You tried to make him get a appletini, but he quote unquote called them ‘Gay’.
>While gay stallions may be hot, it didn’t really have an application there. 
>Anyways, it’s probably time to cut him off for tonight.

>Anon again.
>You have realized that regulations are simply not real.
>Obvious in retrospect. 
“Weww, keep em’ comin Foamy! I’m not dead yet!”
>You wave across the building to Foamy.
>Man, she was pretty cute.
>Like, super cute. Not in the sexual way of course, that’d be heresy.
“Cute. Yeah.”
>You’re staring at nothing.
>Man, ponies are cute.
>Ultra cute. 
>“Uhh, Anon? You there?”
>A question brakes through your haze.
>You look around confused. Who said your name?
>Oh yeah. Foam. 
>“Yeah, well, I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”
>Oh shitttt.
>That’s not good.
>You’re still able to think clearly, you’re not even close to your limit yet.
>You speak up, slightly angered. You’ll be damned if this little pone takes your drinks away.
“Naw, no, nein. You listen here ya little shieet. Imma’.. You’re, you’re gonna get me more drink. Like, a lot more. More. Kay’?!”
>Halfway through you stand up, towering over the short pony.
>She doesn’t seem phased.
>Maybe it’s because you do and say almost the same thing every night?
>Nah. 

>”Sorry, Anon. But I can’t have you scaring off more customers.”
>Fuck, she’s not going to back down. 
>Hmm, how can you solve this.
>Well, ponies are cute.
>And ponies are awkward about snuggles for some reason.
>You used to snuggle your cat back on Earth, simply because you had no one else to.
>But now you do! All these cute widdle large-eye’d huggable ponies!
>So, using this flawless logic, you decide it’ll be the perfect punishment to snuggle this pone.

>You’re Foamy again.
>Anon’s just standing there, staring at you.
>Like, really staring at you. Intently. 
“Goddamnit, Anon. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
>Suddenly, in a flash of movement, he picks you up and presses you against his chest.
>Holding you stable by picking you up like a baby, he tries his hardest to curl the rest of his body against you.
>Oh god, oh god.
“L-let.. Let me go Anon!”
>You don’t want him to let you go.
>He puts his face into your back fur and rubs it around. 
>”Nahhhhh…”
>All the other mares are staring at you!
>Fuck, fuck. Gotta preserve your status, no matter how cute and nice Anon is.
>You struggle and kick a bit in his grip, but he only grips you tighter. 
>”Mmmm…”
>He hums into your back, sending vibrations through your entire body. 
>He surrounds you tighter, pulling you even closer. 
>’Oh god..’
>He’s almost completely surrounded you now, and he is just rubbing his face all over your body. 
>’...I’m trapped’
>He hums into you again.
>You wink. Downstairs.
>’....muh fetish.’

>Four hours later.
>Anon’s finally left. 
>Close up time. 
>It’s rather easy to ignore what happened earlier.
>Easy to ignore Anon picking you up and holding you close to his warm body like-
>...Nevermind.
>Anon was drunk and feeling a little loose.
>This was no different from the times when you picked up drunk stallions.
>Except you didn’t take advantage of it this time. 
>Why?
>Well, you plan on ignoring that as well.
>’Ah, almost forgot a table.’
>Yup, just doing clean up duties.
>Mhm. Nothing new.
>...
>Fucking, who were you trying to kid. 
>You have a schoolgirl crush on Anon.
>Sure, he’s essentially an overgrown monkey but there’s a lot weirder fetishes out there. 
>And for some reason, you didn’t just want to solely fuck him. 
>Of course, though, that was on the to do list. 
>’Mmm, wonder if the size of his dick corresponded to the rest of his body~’
>Wait, you’re getting off track.
>You can think about these things when you’re back home. Alone in your bed.
>Alone…

>Anon.
>You. Are. The. Anon.
“Aaaaaanon!”
>It’s a unique name. 
>You’re stumbling along the usual path back to home.
>It’s dark, and you occasionally stumble on one of the loose cobbles. 
>Streetlamps were invented, but were only put in major cities.
>What a shame that is.
>Just as you round another corner and your home comes into view, a mare appears seemingly out of nowhere.
>”Heyyy, big boy. You look a little lost.”
>You stare at her.
>She has a bright lime coat and a yellow mane. She’s kind of skinny too.
>Her eyes seem extra big. 
>Big eyes.
>Very big eyes. 
>That’s cute. 
>You practically dive at her and tackle her to the ground.
>”What the fuck!?” she yells out in surprise. 
>You ignore her screams for mercy.
>This is Anon territory.
“You are mine now, xeno. Do not attempt escape.”
>You scoop her up and bolt as fast as you possibly can for your door.
>She squirms and twists in your grasp. No heed is paid.
>The world zoom past as you center in on the front door. 
>You lower your shoulder and prepare for impact.
>Closing your eyes and preparing for your end, you embrace it. 
“For the Empire!” you whisper under your breath.
>As soon as your full weight hits the door, it slams open and breaks the plaster on the wall behind it. 
>A minor casualty. 
>You wobble your way up the stairs and walk along the carpeted hallway into your bedroom.
>The queen-sized bed you spent extra on will come in handy.
>You leap onto said giant bed, still holding your pony-payload.
>Pulling her up to your face and cuddling her like a stuffed animal, you begin to doze off.
>Yesss….
>She’s stopped struggling and seems to have accepted her place in the world.
>Which is as your personal cuddlebug. 
>The entire world seems to be incredibly peaceful as darkness slowly encroaches around your mind.

>Be Lime Rita.
>Some crazy alien colt has foalnapped you off the streets after you tried to seduce him.
>Now you’re stuck inside his house.
>Not to mention his iron grasp.
>’I guess it’s not so bad…’
>There’s much worse beings you could’ve been stolen by.
>And a cute, drunk monkey colt who happens to be a bit friendly is probably one of the better options. 
>You squirm around a bit, but he pulls you closer.
>He pulls you so close, in fact, that it literally forces a high pitched squeak out of you. 
>There goes all your marely-ness points. 
>...Not like you had many in the first place. 
>The pitch black room seems to invite sleepiness anyways, and you quickly find yourself nodding off. 
>You just hope he doesn’t think you raped him in the morning. 

>Eight hours later, and you’re Anon again.
>You slowly shuffle around on your bed, trying to ignore the pounding headache and prevalent nausea.
>’God, not again. This might be the worst one yet.’
>You slink out of bed before registering that you were just holding something.
>Something warm.
>You crack one eye open just a bit, still trying to adjust to the morning light peeking through a window. 
>There’s a passed out pony on your bed.
>Hm.
>Not the first time you stole some random pony, probably won’t be the last either.
>Better put her back outside and pray she just thinks it was some really weird dream, whatever you did. 
>Just as you pick her up again, she jolts in your grip.
>You almost drop her as she slowly wakes up and spots you, before letting loose a little shriek.
“Shh, shh, shh. Shh, pony. Sorry about whatever I did.”
>She flips in your grip, forcing you to drop her down to the floor.
>Her little legs propel her faster then you thought possible.
>She dashes out of your bedroom, and just out of your sight, before you here a rather loud ‘thunk’ and some groaning.
>You shamble to the doorway and peek out, just to see that the pony had knocked herself out on the wall. 
>Guess it’s baby-sitting time.