You stared at the creature that was hanging in your shed, sleeping peacefully with his leathery wings wrapped around himself and snoring peacefully as if he owned the place, and hanging upside-down by his tail. You let the door open all the way and the creature peeped quietly and furrowed his brow as the sun shined across his face. You figured it was time to oust this freeloader so you pulled the door to you and hurled it open into the wall, shaking the entire shed with a loud BANG that made the creature’s eyes shoot wide open.
 
“Um… hi?” he said nervously, not moving at all save for a very slight rock back and forth.
 
“Hello, Coma,” you said in a tone that displayed your annoyance as you crossed your arms and let yourself flop against the door, “Long time no see.”
 
He grinned nervously, showing off his impressive fangs, “Heh heh, y-yeah, buddy,” he said trying to sound friendly, “How’s it going? Still doing the green shirt… and stuff… and I was… I was going to flutter in and say hello… and ask permission… but… but… I was just so tired and I didn’t want to bother you…”
 
“Sure,” you said sarcastically, “So nice of you to take the shed instead of come inside to snooze… And I bet it has nothing to do with that hundred bits you still owe me.”
 
His grin widened even more. “I… I… I… uh… Look, come on, buddy! You know I’m good for it! That last job was a bust; some stupid yellow pegasus beat me to the idol and made off with the loot. I barely snagged enough to get a bite to eat before the whole place came down!”
 
Treasure hunters, you thought spitefully as you only raised an eyebrow in response.
 
“Come on!” he said pleadingly, “Don’t do the eyebrow thing! I hate when you do the eyebrow thing! Look, I got something else. Something big! I’ll make the grab, make the sale, pay you back, y’know maybe slip you a little extra and call it interest, and we’re even-Steven!”
 
You didn’t believe a single word from this deadbeat bat pony’s fanged mouth. He loved to call himself a ‘treasure hunter’ but from what you could gather he was little more than a thief and a drifter, and at this point you were pretty sure that hundred bits was gone forever. You felt like giving him the heave-ho, and yet you couldn’t: he was doing the face. How a slit-eyed blood-sipping creature of the night could pull off such an immaculate puppy-dog face was beyond you, but he could, he was, and it was good. “Fine…” you said in sheer defeat, “and… come inside to sleep.”
 
“You are a patron and a saint, buddy!” he said happily as his tail let go of the roof and his wings rolled him around into a fluttery uneven hover in front of you. He threw his leg out for a hoofbump, “Come here, big guy!”
 
“However,” you said sternly as you booped his nose, making his ears shoot straight up in surprise, “If you try and bite me again-”
 
“Aw come on! I only tried that once and you act like it’s the end of the world,” he interrupted, “and you smell good, okay? It’s not my fault that-”
 
“Coma!” you said with a faint growl of frustration.
 
“Moment of weakness, bud! It was a moment of weakness. Won’t happen again, I promise!” he said as the two of you headed back to the house, “But y’know, you do smell good. No homo.”