The sight of you there with the pizza, and your reflexive scowl, silences them in short order. You just shake your head and carry the pizza inside, before dropping it on the foot of the bed. When you turn back around, Chris has removed his towel and his doing his best to look innocent—which is not easily done, giving that he looks like the sort of person who murders white people for sport.
As Bill scrambles up onto the bed, you take a piece of the supreme for yourself and sit down on the couch. Chris had made good use of your Netflix subscription, to set up tonight's entertainment: Friendship is Magic, Season One Episode One—in honor of the occasion, he said. The twin novelties of watching a show about ponies, with a pony, and that pony being the loathsome Bill, weigh heavily on your mind. By Fluttershy's introduction you've had your second piece of pizza—and on a whim, you thump Bill's shoulder.
"Hey! What was that for?!"
"You know this isn't a dream, right?"
"Yeah, I knew that."
"You're a fucked-up guy, Bill.
"Knew that, too."
Between the episodes, Bill strikes up conversation again: with you and Chris both.
"So where are the others?"
It takes you a moment to realize what he means, and you answer with a shake of the head.
"There are no...'others'."
"But there's always...oh, you mean I'm the first one?"
Chris nods, and Bill rubs her hooves in a distinctly disconcerting way; her grin is straight off a hyena's face.
"Aaaaalright. Who's our next mark?"