Time for the next chapter. Oh yeah! I'm feeling the burn here. This is the third chapter in one day! Time to do this!

ALSO, I PLEASE IMPLORE YOU TO REMEMBER THIS: that after last chapter, nothing… well, almost nothing… is metaphorical. This will just be me working with the characters almost like a sitcom, with jokes about real life, but only very occasional metaphorical moment. PLEASE REMEMBER.

I wake up to a tickle on my nose and instinctively put a hoof to my face in order to relieve it, my eyes snapping open as a creamy substance hits my face before my hoof. It's whitish, and my mind immediately goes somewhere else before realizing that it's shaving cream. I sit up and wipe the cream away, fumbling in my legal blindness for my glasses. I manage to grab them and put them on, blinking to clear my vision. "Wh-what the?" I splutter, continuing to wipe the cream off.

The perpetrator in this little even happens to be a pegasus colt sitting in front of me with a huge floppy grin on his face. He's got a dark brown coat of fur and a mane with coloring similar to Night Owl's, but the red streak is more jagged, almost like lightning rather than a bit of a wavy stripe. His amused eyes are icy blue, ecstatic at his successful prank. "Gotcha, new roommate!" he laughs. "Catch you after classes!" Then he hightails it out of the room before I can say anything.

I vaguely register that this was the guy I'd seen sleeping last night… or I'd at least thought he was. Of course, my brain functioning is extremely limited before I've had my coffee in the morning, which, speaking of… I have no idea where I'm going to find. I briefly wonder whether there's a Sunbutt's Coffee around here or not, but that takes a lot of processing power that I just don't have yet.

So in place of coffee, I decide to splatter some cold water from the bathroom in my face, which of course is at least negative 20 degrees Celsius and nearly freezes my face off.

I silently hope that my day can't get any worse, which of course is going to jinx it into being officially my worst day ever. But I decide to not dwell on that little bit of superstition and instead put on my tie and trot downstairs.

There's a large crowd of ponies downstairs collected eating breakfasts of assorted… things. I can't really be bothered to count how many different types of breakfast there are, nor how many ponies there actually are. I do notice hay fries and pancakes and waffles, though. I, however, make my way to the refrigerator and open in, hoping to see my sandwich where I left it. But instead of that, I find an empty shelf with a note that says 'IOU one sandwich' signed with a name I don't recognize.

I frown and narrow my eyes, feeling a little bit of anger from this. Or… 'a little bit' might be a slight… large understatement. I shut the door a little harder than normal, turning around with a growl at not being able to eat the sandwich I'd taken so much time to prepare yesterday morning.

I look around, trying to find Night Owl, hoping she might be able to spare an apple or something. I locate her over at a table, laughing and talking with… dear Faust, it's that guy from my room. He's standing at the oven of the kitchen, frying some vegetables on a pan and cooking toast with the same huge grin as before. He seems to be… flirting with Night Owl. Oh, that's nice.

I have no idea why that irks me so much, but he looks like he knows what he's doing with the whole cooking aspect, so that doesn't leave me much choice. I have to appeal to whatever connections I have with anypony since I don't have any bits on hand… and there they are, sitting at the same table.

I trot over and sit on a stool over where I can talk to the person at the oven. I suppose I should explain about the whole setting there. There's a square indentation for where the kitchen could be, walled in like sort of a blocky question mark, if you were looking at the open end of the kitchen. On the point where you'd start the hook of the question mark… or perhaps the left wall of the square if you kept the same vantage point as looking at it like from the question mark… there's a rectangular hole in the wall with stools on the other side, where ponies can commune with the chef while he or she cooks. That's where the two ponies I know are, and where I decide to sit.

The stool, being old as it looks, creaks under the slightest amount of weight that I put under it, and the pegasus colt glances up from his cooking with a sly smile on his face. "Watch out roommate, I think you might be putting on some pounds there."

I narrow my eyes and glare at him. "Hey, I'm perfectly average weight for my size." I snap.

Night Owl glances over at me with amusement in her green eyes. "Lighten up, Radicool223. After all, you might just have," she snorts with laughter, barely able to cough out the next two words, because she's already cracking up at her own joke that she hasn't even made. "Loose stools!"

She and the pegasus burst into laughter, and I roll my eyes, getting even more annoyed. "Yeah, really funny." I mutter. "Say, I never got your name." I say loudly, turning my attention to the pegasus.

"Ah, yes, Radicool223." He nods to me and turns his attention back to his cooking of… jalapeno toast, I suppose it looks like. "I'm Jet Stream, chef extraordinaire who could completely kick your butt in a Pokémon battle or anything else 'video game'."

"Unlikely." I scoff, about to get into an argument before realizing what exactly I came here for. "Uh, well I know this is awkward, but do you suppose you have an extra slice of toast on hoof? I'll repay you later." I add quickly.

Jet Stream appears to deliberate for a while in his mind before leaning forward slightly and asking with squinted eyes. "What do you suppose would be in it for me?"

"A chance to hone your 'extraordinary toast making skills'." I say sarcastically, returning the look and motion.

"I don't know if I feel comfortable cooking for somepony with loose stools." Jet counters.

Night Owl laughs a little at that joke before glancing first at Jet, and then at me, before making a small sound like 'huh', clearing her throat, and saying, "Wow, can't you just smell the testosterone in here."

Jet and I ignore her. "Here," I say coldly, handing him the slip of paper with the IOU on it. "That's what's in it for you. Uh…" I glance at the name upside down on the paper. "'Joey' owes you a sandwich."

Jet stares at the paper for a moment before breaking out in a smile again and pocketing it. "Hah! Okay, Radicool223! I think you and I can get along. Here." He flips a slice of toast from the frying pan (now that I think about it, that's a bit of an unorthodox way of cooking toast) into the air at me and I catch it with my magic. He puts a few of the vegetables on it along with a couple of spices and some salt. "Eat it, it's good."

I struggle to figure out what just happened, and who exactly just won the argument before realizing that the entire situation had just dissolved into nothing. "Uh, thanks…" I say, my voice betraying my surprise.

While Jet turns to check something on the oven, Night leans over to me and mutters, "Give him a chance. I think he's just one of those ponies who likes to get to know you with a practical joke."

I nod in response, having known one of those types back in high school.

Cautiously I take a bite of the toast, spices and all, and then realize that I've taken a bite of fire in solid form. I sit for a moment as my mouth heats up, and Night comments on my state, narrowing her sleepless eyes as if she's worried, "Uh, Radicool? Does your face normally turn red when you eat?"

I shoot her a killer glare before running over to the sink, grabbing a glass with my magic, and beginning to drink refill after refill to attempt to calm the burning in my mouth before realizing that it's already gone away.

"That's what the bread is for, Radicool!" Jet calls from the oven, and I wipe the water off my mouth, laughing slightly to myself and frowning.

"Thanks for the warning!" I call back, trotting back over to my seat and sitting back down. I continue to eat the toast, but remove the spices and vegetables this time, just to be safe.

Breakfast continues without another incident. The three of us get to know each other better, and then begin discussing classes. It turns out that all of our third class of the day turns out to be at the same time and is the same class, fanfiction. The first two are different, however, so we won't see each other until then.

"Hey, you guys want to meet up at that Starbutt's Coffee over near where the seminar takes place after the class?" Night asks.

"I'll be there." I shrug, knowing that I probably need the energy anyway, even if it weren't an excuse to get to know some possible friends better.

"Sure, I'll go too, even though Loose Stools is coming." Jet adds with a glance at me.

I roll my eyes, accepting that this is probably going to be my nickname forever.

"Okay, see you guys later!" Night sticks her tongue out, squeezes her eyes shut, and screws up her face. Her horn lights up and she vanishes in a flash of red light.

I decide to take the simpler way out and do a long-distance teleportation of my backpack from my room straight to myself and levitate it behind me as I trot toward the door of the building.

On my way out, I notice some of the party floor ponies, including a muscular tan pegasus who I have to assume is the guy who knocked my glasses off and crushed them last night. I growl as I pass him and he flicks a crushed soda can at me. I conjure up a small shield of my green magic with trampoline qualities and let it spring right back at him and rebound off the table into the trash can.

This small little victory under my belt, I exit the building and trot out to my first class, music history.

Chapter completed! I'm having so much fun with this stuff!