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This was a couple years ago and involves "Those That Shall Not Be Spoke Of"..
>be cashier at TRU during holiday for extra cash
>be lifelong plastic pastel horse collector since 1986(aka the year I was born)
>two guys come up to register
>notice smell
>slowly my eyes fall to the counter
>two of those stupid fucking black bodied colored mane character horses instead of just a regular figure with regular colors
>mfw not even able to brush it's hair, just more molded plastic junk
>wtf that's the whole fucking point is to brush their fucking hair
>Internally splerg out
>*ew I'm actually meeting one in person, ew, ew, why do they smell and look greasy*
>shoot him a glance
>me: "oh so you collect "Those That Shall Not be Spoke of"?"
>he smiles at his friend and gets this smug look on his face like he thinks I'm going to ask him what's a good pony to get for my niece, or wtf I'm just like..
>*is this bitch really boasting over the fact he likes tiny plastic pastel horses*
>him: "Oh yea I mostly do online stuff, and have some trading figures and a bunch of dog tags and blind bags I can name any pony there is."
>me: "oh that's awesome. I've..*time slows down as I stare him straight in the eye and say this next word*..always..*time goes back to normal* liked "Those That Shall Not be Spoken Of".
>him: "Oh cool! Who's your favorite plastic pastel colored horse!?"
>dark clouds swirl around me as a smirk runs across my face(it was literally raining that day)
>they sense my power in the wind or finally catch on either or idk
>in a deep bellowing voice with lightning crackling behind me I say.."Which Generation?..1..2..3..or 4?"
>they both take a step back from the counter
>I light a cigarette in store and blow it in their faces
>"Your total is 10.24"(or whatever the fuck sales tax was then)
>The one guy throws $9 in ones down and five quarters
>leaves without bag or receipt
>has this weird penguin shuffling walk thing going on as he exits the store
>did he shit himself?
