Previously, Bob was on a luxury cruise liner with Emily, his wife. On that cruise, they met two ponies named Burt, and Mildred.
Burt: You know what I like to get all the time?
Bob: Potatoes?
Burt: No, that's the Irish. I like to get the salad.
Mildred: And I get steak.
Burt: Maybe, this time you should have the salada with me mum.
Emily: salada sounds nice.
Bob: I have to agree with Mildred, the bife sounds good.
Waiter: May I take your orders.
Burt: Me, and mum will have a salad.
Mildred: Don't be daft Burt, I can order for myself. Let me have a steak.
Waiter: Okay. *Writing down orders* And for the rest of you?
Bob: Steak.
Emily: Salad.
Waiter: Okay. What kind of dressing would you like for the salads.
Burt: Ranch.
Emily: French.
Waiter: Coming right up. *Goes to kitchen*
Burt: Why didn't you get the salad?
Mildred: I told you, I could order my own food!
Bob: Hey, there's no need to shout.
Mildred: Sorry Bobby.
Bob: Please, just call me Bob.
Burt: So, what you do you two do?
Bob: I'm a therapist.
Burt: A rapist?
Bob: No, I said therapist.
Emily: I work on advertising.
Bob: So, what about-
Burt: You know something? I'm sorry to say this, but I hate therapists. They're always telling ponies that they have this problem, and how to solve them.
Bob: Actually Burt, the ponies that come to visit a therapist tell them their problem. Not the other way around.
Burt: But you always tell them how to solve it.
Bob: Because they want help.
Burt: I just hate therapy in general.
Emily: oi look, the band is here.
The band shows up on stage, and is playing a song: link
Mildred: Oh, I amor this song.
Bob: Me too. Emily, do you want to dance while we wait for our food?
Emily: Sure.
Mildred: I want to dance too.
Burt: I don't. You go ahead, and dance. We'll let the waiter know where you are.
Bob: Well, thanks. *Goes to dancing floor*
Emily: *Follows Bob*
While Bob, and Emily were dancing, Mildred seemed sad. She left the table.
Burt: Where do you think you're going?
Mildred: For a walk. I need some fresh air.
Burt: Oh, fine.
Mildred: *Goes for walk*
2 B continued
Burt: You know what I like to get all the time?
Bob: Potatoes?
Burt: No, that's the Irish. I like to get the salad.
Mildred: And I get steak.
Burt: Maybe, this time you should have the salada with me mum.
Emily: salada sounds nice.
Bob: I have to agree with Mildred, the bife sounds good.
Waiter: May I take your orders.
Burt: Me, and mum will have a salad.
Mildred: Don't be daft Burt, I can order for myself. Let me have a steak.
Waiter: Okay. *Writing down orders* And for the rest of you?
Bob: Steak.
Emily: Salad.
Waiter: Okay. What kind of dressing would you like for the salads.
Burt: Ranch.
Emily: French.
Waiter: Coming right up. *Goes to kitchen*
Burt: Why didn't you get the salad?
Mildred: I told you, I could order my own food!
Bob: Hey, there's no need to shout.
Mildred: Sorry Bobby.
Bob: Please, just call me Bob.
Burt: So, what you do you two do?
Bob: I'm a therapist.
Burt: A rapist?
Bob: No, I said therapist.
Emily: I work on advertising.
Bob: So, what about-
Burt: You know something? I'm sorry to say this, but I hate therapists. They're always telling ponies that they have this problem, and how to solve them.
Bob: Actually Burt, the ponies that come to visit a therapist tell them their problem. Not the other way around.
Burt: But you always tell them how to solve it.
Bob: Because they want help.
Burt: I just hate therapy in general.
Emily: oi look, the band is here.
The band shows up on stage, and is playing a song: link
Mildred: Oh, I amor this song.
Bob: Me too. Emily, do you want to dance while we wait for our food?
Emily: Sure.
Mildred: I want to dance too.
Burt: I don't. You go ahead, and dance. We'll let the waiter know where you are.
Bob: Well, thanks. *Goes to dancing floor*
Emily: *Follows Bob*
While Bob, and Emily were dancing, Mildred seemed sad. She left the table.
Burt: Where do you think you're going?
Mildred: For a walk. I need some fresh air.
Burt: Oh, fine.
Mildred: *Goes for walk*
2 B continued
A Lunicorn Continental, the My Little Pony version of a Lincoln.
I thought I would have mais ideas to add to this story, but turns out... I don't.
So, yeah, this chapter is marely an Arthur note saying that the story is now over..
So the last chapter was actually the last chapter..
Till seguinte time my dear fãs :)
I'm suppose to write mais words so here's aleatório metallica lyrics
"Story starts, quite town.
Small time boy, big time frown.
Never talks, never plays.
Different path, lost his way.
Dead streets are red, red I'm afried.
No confetti, no parade.
Nothing happens in this boring place.
But oh my god, how that all did change.
Now they all prey.
Blood, stains, wash away."
So, yeah, this chapter is marely an Arthur note saying that the story is now over..
So the last chapter was actually the last chapter..
Till seguinte time my dear fãs :)
I'm suppose to write mais words so here's aleatório metallica lyrics
"Story starts, quite town.
Small time boy, big time frown.
Never talks, never plays.
Different path, lost his way.
Dead streets are red, red I'm afried.
No confetti, no parade.
Nothing happens in this boring place.
But oh my god, how that all did change.
Now they all prey.
Blood, stains, wash away."
Toussaint
