That evening, as promised, Fluttershy arrived at my apartment. I didn't hear her knock at first: I was too busy taking rapid, furious swings at my inflatable punching bag. It was only when she knocked again and called my name - and when Tali barked out a welcome - that I was snapped out of my brief rage. "Coming!" I cried anxiously, and rushed to the door, simultaneously trying to regain my composure.
"You...box?" quizzed Fluttershy, once she had caught sight of my punching bag.
"Not as a sport," I explained wearily. "I just use it to vent my bottled-up anger every now and then."
"I'm not surprised. Your landlady said you were screaming and shouting at the top of your lungs earlier - you even scared the neighbors!"
"Yeah. In all honesty, I'm surprised she didn't give me the boot."
"But, why?" Fluttershy persisted. "I mean, you're the last pony I'd expect to have fits of rage, even that one time last Saturday!"
"I know," I replied, shuddering painfully at the memory. "But