I was sitting around, being a classy gentleman and arguing with christians on the internet, when suddenly my euphoric-groove stopped. My fedora had fallen off.
"Apple Jack!" I yelled, sometimes my wife (yes she is a pony I don't give a fuck what you think we are happy together) likes to pull little pranks. Such a cutie. Fantasizing over cartoon horses is not weird at all.
I bent over and picked up my enlightened headgear, when I felt a cool breeze rush up my arm.
Apple Jack sat in the corner, afraid.
"we're going to be okay, aren't we?"
I couldn't stand my beautiful waifu being scared like that. I grabbed my katana and I made a threatening pose at the spot I thought the ghost was at.
As I tacticoooly walked backwards, I slipped on a piece of paper. It was my sonic fan art. The 400 pound mass that is my body rolled down the stairs and I broke my neck (I didn't know I still had that) and I died.