“It’s a Roomba. A robotic vacuum cleaner.”
 
“Right, I know that, but…for some reason, it gives me the creeps SHUDDER”
 
“You didn’t have a problem with the laptop, the iPad, or anything else, so why does THIS bother you?”
 
“I…honestly don’t know why. It shouldn’t. But it DOES. It’s like the noise it’s making is wrong on every conceivable level.”
 
“The pony who beat demigods, Changelings and more terrifying, eldritch monsters than you can shake a stick at is afraid of robo-vacuums and quesad–”
 
“DON’T. SAY. IT. DO NOT complete that sentence.”
 
“–a Mexican dish. How the hell does that even work?”
 
“Look, phobias don’t have to make logical sense, Mister ‘Save-Me-From-That-Tiny-Mouse-Before-It-Pees-On-My-Shoes.’ I thought you, of all po–err, people–would understand that.”
 
“Rodents carry disease. Half of Europe died from the Black Plague.”
 
“Which was carried by flears, the mouse was smaller than your thumb and besides, she told Fluttershy she was completely flea-freeOHLUNAITMOVED! IT MOVED IN MY DIRECTION! IS IT MOVING IN MY DIRECTION?”
 
“Yes…yes, it did. Robots do that. Move, I mean.”
 
“This is NOT NORMAL!”
 
“And the flying purple horse with a fear of Mexican cuisine who shoots death-rays from her head IS?”
 
“Completely normal, completely justified, and I really wouldn’t throw too many stones in that glass house of yours, McChimpy.”
 
“Fine, then.”
 
“Hmmph…Fine.”
 
“…”
 
“…”
 
“…feel like pizza?”
 
“Spinach and feta?”
 
“Sounds awesome.”
 
“

Twilight:“It’s like a little robot Spike…”