Frodo...Tragedy

Guys.

I have terrible news.

Tragic, awful, deplorable, egregious, abhorrent, grim, sickening, terrible, horrible, atrocious, appalling
news.

Frodo is dying.

It's not his fro, nor his foam that is the annihilation of his kind.

It's the My Little Ponies.

Last night,  he lay in the hospital, ill from the nostrums prescribed to him by his 'doctor.'

His doctor, by far, was not a doctor of any sort.

It was a my little pony.

A heinous little thing.

At approximently midnight, the doctor-pony approached his bed with a probe at hoof, stabbing Frodo in the neck, until all the contents had escaped the thin needle.

Imediately, I, ate his bedside, aroused him, as he had been screaming in his sleep, an ear-splitting shriek emitting from the pit of his throat. He began to tremble rapidly, convulsing into random splutters. Sweat dripped from his brow and gradually covered his face. He continued screeching for several more moments. My heart beating in my throat, my hands shaking. I didn't know what to do. What do you do when some strange mutation of a human starts spasms at night?  Do you yell for help? Do you try to assist him? What do you do? I know not, so I tried to help him. Sweat dripping from my brow, my heart racing, tears rolling.  I shook him awake. Darkness blotted my eyes. And then, the country bears approached me with their paintball guns, asking me what happened.

"I.... don't..kn-"Then- I fell to the ground with a thud.

(Lol sorry for suckish writing, got to go to my sister's school show or something...)


BUT THE COUNTRY BEARS ARE GONNA KICK SOME MY LITTLE PONY BUTT!