The Great and Powerful Trash Can

Chapters

The Toilet Incident - Part 1
The Toilet Incident - Part 2
Dumpster Diving - Part 1
Dumpster Diving - Part 2
Dumpster Diving - Part 3
Dumpster Diving - Part 4
Dumpster Diving - Part 5

The Toilet Incident - Part 1

"Hnnnnnngggg"

Deep within an unknown wooded area, a small caravan had stopped, dimly lighting the surrounding area with candlelight streaming out the windows on the sides.

"Huff...huff..."

Inside it, the Great and Powerful Trixie was practicing a new magic spell. One that she believed would make her a more powerful unicorn than Twilight Sparkle.

"HNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG"

She had strained and stretched her magical capabilities to their limit, yet she could not complete it. This was a very high-level spell she had acquired. In fact, it was one of the three most powerful spells a unicorn could learn.

"Huff...huff...huff..."

Trixie sat down on a stool and took a breather. Opening a trans-dimensional gateway was seriously difficult. She had heard rumors of a mirror being used for such a spell in the Crystal Empire. She had a small hoof mirror no larger than her head, and figured that would be a good substitute, maybe even making the spell easier to complete.

So far, her efforts have been fruitless. However, she was determined to complete this spell. Twilight Sparkle had embarrassed her TWICE so far with her do-goodie magic and deceptive trickery. Trixie thought if she couldn't even do one of the most powerful spells in Equestria, she couldn't hold a candle to Twilight.

She rose from her stool and glared at the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with confidence. Again, she tried the spell.

"HNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGG-"

The mirror began to glow and vibrate, and her reflection slowly began to vanish as it was replaced with a prismatic vortex of color. Trixie closed her eyes as she channeled every bit of magic she had left in her.

"-GGGGGGGGGRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Trixie had hit her limit again, and had to stop, breathing heavier than her previous attempts. However, once she opened her eyes, they lit up with cheer and excitement.

Trixie had done it! The small hoof-mirror no longer showed a reflection, but was now brimming with a rainbow corona of energy around its edges, and a deep swirling vortex leading to a world unknown.

"YES! Yesyesyesyesyes! I'm FINALLY greater than Twilight Sparkle!" Trixie bounded across her caravan floor with the energy of a young filly, reveling in her success.

However, she needed to check to see if the spell truly worked. She carefully approached the mirror and stuck one of her hooves in it. She felt something light on the other side, and grasped it before pulling her hoof back. She pulled back a sheet of tissue paper...and it was used.

"Blech!" Trixie discarded the rubbish outside one of her windows. Did she make a portal to somepony's bathroom?

...no, she reminded herself. She just cast a trans-dimensional spell. It HAS to be another world that made tissue paper!

In that case, she decided it was time to see that world for herself. This time, she stuck her head in, keeping her hat down with a hoof so that it would fit.

Journal Entry #267

You're not going to believe this one.

I know I've said that maybe fifty times by now, but those times I was usually very, very drunk. Tonight I was not, so you're REALLY not going to believe this.

I guess I should start with the day before, though. I celebrated my 40th birthday. It was a nice day. My friends and I all went out to a nice restaurant for dinner. The meal was fantastic.

Then they brought out a big box wrapped in birthday gift wrapping. I was excited to open it up, they normally got me smaller trinkets and gadgets before now!

...it was a box full of Centrum Silver. The look on my face was priceless to them, as they laughed for a good fifteen minutes, while I scowled and buried my head into the table. I actually forgot those guys can be mean practical jokers.

So, I took my "prize" home at about nine in the evening, and got ready for bed. I had work tomorrow, so I didn't bother staying up long.

Unfortunately, my body had other plans, for about two in the morning the next day my stomach growled violently. I guess dinner last night got into an argument with my gut and things just escalated from there.

I pulled the sheets off, grumbling to myself as I wiped the sleep dust from my eyes, and shuffled over to the bathroom. Flicking on the light switch, I eyed my target, a pristine white toilet.

I promptly disrobed my lower half and took a seat on it, about to enjoy the sweet release of emptying my angry bowels.

That was interrupted immediately as the small trash can to my right exploded in a cloud of tissue and toilet paper rolls. I panicked and fell off to my left side, hiding behind the toilet as I peeked my head up over the lid.

I didn't see anything. Curious, I got up to examine the trash can from a higher angle. My heart nearly stopped dead at what I saw...and this is part where you're not going to believe me.

I saw a face...I think it was a face. Not just a face, but a blue face staring back at me with ridiculously huge eyes. It had a purple hat of some kind on its head, and a horn sticking out from its forehead.

I still think I imagined that...but I KNOW I didn't imagine my reaction...and I have proof that it happened, but that will come a bit later.

The moment I saw the horn I screamed, and started looking for something to defend myself with. My eyes fell on the plunger I had next to my toilet, just behind the trash can.

I had a crazy idea as soon as I saw the plunger, so I grabbed it and placed it on that creepy blue face. I then began to plunge with both hands as hard as I could, driving whatever that was back to where it came from...or kill it, it freaked me out THAT badly!

It must have been maybe five minutes. Whatever that blue thing was, it was putting up quite a fight, trying to force its way through. However, the resistance soon ceased, and I slowly lifted the plunger up to look beneath it.

The blue face was gone...but the trash can wasn't empty. Inside it was the same purple hat I saw earlier before I went Toilet Warrior on the creature. I lifted the hat up, and the bottom of my trash can looked normal.

I then inspected the hat. It looked like a child's magician hat, decorated with white stars and moons. A bit tacky for my tastes, but there's my proof of what happened. I certainly didn't own a hat like this before now.

I'm not sure what that creature was, nor do I want to know. What I do know...is that I have their hat. I really hope they don't try to come back for this thing.

I might burn it, just to be safe. I really want to believe this was some crazy nightmare, and that I imagined all of this...but this magician's hat is proof otherwise.

Oh well, at least my stomach calmed down enough so I can go to sleep. Still, I wanted to write this all down before I went to bed, just in case I wake up and look in you again to see this entry had disappeared...and to be honest, I really want this entry to disappear so I don't have to remember it again.

The Toilet Incident - Part 2

“Geeyyuck!” Trixie spat.

Trixie immediately ran over to the small bathroom in her caravan, soaked her face with water, and scrubbed her face hard using a washcloth. Whatever that...that...THING was on the other side of her portal was crazy! She didn’t even have time to say a word before it screamed and reached for a stick with a rubber bowl on the end of it and smashed it into her face.

The whole ordeal was terrifying. The frequent pulsing motions that creature applied to their foul-smelling weapon kept breaking her concentration as she tried to use magic to fling it away. It had taken her a few minutes to free herself from the assault and get her head out of the portal she had conjured.

And now here she was, scrubbing her face as clean as she could manage to get this horrible fecal stench off her face and out of her mane...and that’s when she saw it in the bathroom mirror.

Rather, she saw a LACK of a certain something she had always enjoyed wearing.

“My hat!” she screamed.

Panicked, she dashed out back toward the mirror and desperately looked around it, hoping that the hat fell off on her side during the struggle. It didn’t...which meant it was on the other side of the portal...with THAT creature!

Her gaze fell on the mirror again. The portal was still working! Maybe there was a chance that the hat was still on the other side, just within reach! However, as she put a hoof toward the portal, it suddenly closed.

Trixie’s face was a mixture of shock and heartbreak. That hat was very special to her...and there was no way she wasn’t going to get it back!

She immediately tried casting the spell on the mirror again, but failed as a few sparks merely fizzled out from her horn.

She cursed herself for a minute or so before she sat down on her stool and waited. She would need a few hours at most to restore her magic reserves enough to cast the spell again...and wait she would, as long as it would take.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

My hand lazily fell on the alarm clock, turning it off. The time was 7:00 AM.

“Ugh...I feel like garbage,” was the lone thought that started off my day.

I slowly rose out of bed and slipped on a t-shirt and the jeans I wore last night at my party. I wasn’t too picky about the clothes I was wearing, since my thoughts hung on that weird dream I had last night...at least, I think it was a dream.

I needed to check my journal to be sure. I picked it up off the nightstand next to the alarm clock. Flipping through the pages, I came to my last entry...and there it was, that creepy entry where I saw a blue face in my trash can. Ack...I really wanted that to be a grand hallucination of some kind.

Maybe it still was, though. Heck, it could be even be one of my other dream journal entries. Yeah, that’s it! I’m still not crazy!

...well, that was my thinking until I decided to check my bathroom again, to dispel any and every notion that whatever happened last night was a fantasy. There, sitting on the counter just above the haunted trash can, was the same magician’s hat from last night.

I reached for it tentatively, desperately wanting to believe that it was just a figment of my silly imagination. That notion shattered in front of me as I felt the silky purple fabric on my fingers. Agh, so last night really did happen after all.

I furrowed my brow attempting to process this. This hat HAD to have come from that blue creature from before. I don’t even know where that thing went...OR how it got here, but if this hat belongs to it, it will definitely come back for it. Don’t ask me why or how I know, it’s a gut feeling.

Wait...maybe if I just put the hat back in the trash bin, that thing might leave me alone! YES, a perfect, flawless plan! It’ll just take the hat and leave! It’s not like it would want to stick around after my first assault on it, anyway...right?

I grabbed the hat and threw it in the trash can...and then I heard the familiar sound of a garbage truck rolling down the street, collecting trash cans as it began its route.

I panicked. I completely forgot today was trash day! Without thinking, I scooped up the tissue paper and toilet paper rolls that spilled out from last night’s event, put it all in the trash can, and quickly brought it out to a larger trash can I had set up in my kitchen. I dumped the contents of the smaller can into the larger one, then hastily tied up the plastic garbage bag inside before bringing it out to the curb for pickup.

I dusted my hands off as I gave the bag to the trash collector, entered my home again...and then it hit me. The hat was in that trash bag.

As if to signal my impending doom, I heard a voice come from the small trash bin I left in the kitchen as soon as I shut the front door.

“Hello? Is somepony out there? Trixie promises she won’t hurt you.”

"God, if you’re there...give me a sign. Give me a sign that says there’s still some miniscule chance I’m dreaming all of this. Barring that, give me a sign that tells me that I won’t die after confronting that blue face after I just lost its hat."

Nothing responded back...as usual. Great...just perfect. I’m flying solo on this one.

I slowly crept up to the kitchen, noting that I could see nothing as I approached the can, just like last time. This feels like some cheap suspense build-up from a horror movie now that I’m aware my trash can is haunted.

I briefly considered getting another weapon as well. Maybe the plunger again, that seemed to work well last time. However, I thought better of it, instead opting to be diplomatic. They sounded nice and forgiving, anyway.

It then hit me that I just understood that creature. It spoke English. Maybe this would go much better than I thought it would! Thus, I decided to respond back.

“What are you?” I asked.

“Trixie could ask you the same thing.”

...maybe not. They sounded snarky and had a sharp wit to match their callous tone...and they kept using what I presumed to be their name, “Trixie.” The voice was also feminine...and a bit whiny. This would get annoying so quickly, I could tell. So much for a friendly start...though to be fair, I reminded myself that our first encounter ended with me plunging her like my toilet after Taco Bell night.

I approached the can and looked down in it, and saw what looked like an angry blue face staring back at me. As soon as they saw me, they tried to pull their head back, but I showed my hands to them.

“I don’t have a weapon. I won’t hurt you...whatever you are.”

At this, she sighed, and for a moment I thought things would go much smoother from this point.

“Now, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you, and how did you get in my trash can?”

Suddenly she became rather boastful. “I am the Great and Powerful Trixie, a traveling magician pony! As for how Trixie got here, I cast a powerful spell that let me create a portal to your world.”

I blinked at her, completely confused by what I just heard.

“They’re a pony?! No, no way that’s true. I’ve SEEN ponies. They are not blue, they do not have gigantic eyes, and they certainly don’t have rounded faces like this thing does!” My thoughts objected.

“...although I DID see a snout at the end of their face that looked equine in nature, plus they had a hair pattern resembling a mane...and I was at least familiar with unicorns as one of the many mythological creatures referenced in fairytale books...WHAT AM I DOING? Why am I trying to reason that this thing is a pony?!”

I shook my head, and focused on the other important detail. They also made a portal that led to Earth by casting some spell. My rational mind told me this was already physically impossible...so I tried to humor her instead.

“Okay...hypothetically speaking, let’s say I believe you. You’re a pony, I’m guessing your name is Trixie, and through some ‘spell’ of yours you somehow bridged your world with mine.”

“Trixie would like to clarify that she used magic to cast the spell,” she amended.

Oh great, magic too. Of course there’s magic involved. My suspension of disbelief had already been stretched so far as to think she’s a pony, and beyond that a unicorn. Why not add magic into the mix and shatter any semblance of reality existing as I know it? Heck, to anyone else right now I’d look like a crazy person talking to a trash can. I ought to make a tinfoil hat and wear a ratty-looking jacket while I’m at it.

I sighed. “Okay, let’s say I believe that too. Why should I trust anything that’s coming out of your mouth? For all I know, I think I’m still dreaming.”

Suddenly, my body felt lighter as I was lifted into the air, enveloped in a sparkling pink aura. The horn on the pony’s head was glowing as well. It wasn’t difficult to make the connection that Trixie was using magic on me. I almost panicked and wanted to thrash around, but my limbs wouldn’t move, like they were all held down in vice grips.

I looked down at Trixie, who had a smirk on their face. “Satisfied you’re not dreaming now?”

My answer was quick. “Y-yep, definitely not dreaming. Please put me down.”

I’m not going to lie, that was absolutely terrifying. She effortlessly picked me up, and could probably fling me around like a ragdoll if she wanted to. However, she set me down, and I breathed a large sigh of relief.

“Now then, it’s your turn. Tell Trixie what you are and your name.”

I considered lying, but thought better of it after my “uplifting” experience ten seconds ago. “My name is Ian, and I’m just an ordinary human.”

“A ‘human’? Trixie does not know what a ‘human’ is, Ian.”

I grit my teeth. This was going to take a while to get used to.

“Well, humans are-” I began to explain.

She huffed. “I don’t care what a ‘human’ is anyway, what I WANT to know is where my hat is!”

Crap. She got right to the point I desperately wanted to avoid.

“...your hat?”

“Yes, my magician’s hat! The one that fell on THIS side of my portal, Ian!” she snapped.

“Right...well, I did find it.”

For the first time, relief was shown in her face. “Oh, thank goodness! Where is it?”

Oh, this was gonna hurt.

“It’s not here,” I stated.

In the span of three seconds, I believed that what I saw on her face was a whole life’s story worth of emotions. Shock, sadness, misery, anger...HATE.

I could only take a single step back before I realized I couldn’t move as she held me in that paralyzing magic glow again, dragging my face all the way down so it was almost touching hers in the trash can.

I could see my rugged face reflected in her spiteful gigantic eyes. If looks could kill, I should be dead right now.

“WHERE IS IT?!” she screamed point blank, causing my ears to ring out in agony.

“I-It’s gone! I accidentally threw it out with my garbage this morning and-”

“YOU THREW IT AWAY?!” I could feel the magical grip on me tighten even further.

“YES! I’m sorry! Please let me go! It’s starting to get...hard to breathe here.”

“Not until you promise Trixie that you WILL find her hat!”

“AGH! Yes yes, I will! I promise, okay?!”

Finally, I took a deep breath as her grip relented. "Note to self: This pony is nightmarishly scary when angry. Do NOT piss off again."

“Well? How will you get Trixie’s hat back?”

I thought about it for a moment and realized I had a good shot at getting the hat back after all. Maybe when I did, this whole situation would resolve itself quickly and she would leave me alone.

“I need to make some calls, Trixie.”

Dumpster Diving - Part 1

Author's Note

It occurred to me that I had not put in credits for this story yet. Might as well start that up now.

I extend my thanks to RedDragon and Vrilix for looking over this chapter with their diligent eyes.

Dumpster Diving - Part 1

I made a call out to one of my buddies that hung out with me for my birthday last night. His name was Mike, and he worked for the Sanitation Department in the city. I had...lost a few things before, and usually when I did so, I called Mike to see if he could do anything.

He has berated me multiple times about my forgetfulness about throwing my important things in the trash, but it wasn’t exactly my important thing I threw in the garbage this time.

“Mike? Are you there?”

“Oh, hey Ian! Why are you calling this early? You know I’m at work.” The sounds of garbage trucks dumping their trash onto large conveyor belts could faintly be heard in the background of the call.

“...actually, that’s what I wanted to talk about.”

Mike sighed. “You threw something in the garbage again you didn’t mean to, right?”

“You know me too well. Plus, I think you owe me for that little ‘gag’ yesterday.”

I heard him stifle a giggle on the other end. “Yeah yeah, I suppose I do owe you for that. It was still funny, though. Okay...what did you lose?”

I had to think about how to describe this so it didn’t sound awkward in any way. Calmly telling him it’s a magician’s hat belonging to a pony currently contacting me through my trash can sounds like a one-way ticket to the insane asylum.

“It’s a birthday present for my daughter. A purple magician’s hat with stars and moons decorating it.”

“...is this the same daughter that denounced you as her father because she was being raised by...that she-devil?”

That was Mike’s way of referring to my ex-wife. He didn’t even give her the benefit of being called by her name. Honestly, with how she’s been treating me this past year, I started to do the same...in my own way.

“Yes, her. However, my daughter just e-mailed me last week, and wanted to talk things over. I guess she’s realized how...aggravating her mother can be.”

“Mending old wounds, eh? Well Ian, I hope it goes well, especially if you’re getting your daughter a present...you never told me she was interested in magic, though.”

I paused for a minute. “Uh...it’s a new hobby she picked up to distract herself from her mother.”

Mike laughed. “Hah! No magic trick will make that problem disappear!”

I stifled a giggle. “One can hope, can’t they? Anyway, let me know when the truck that came down my street this morning stops by the Recycling Center.”

“Sure, I’ll give you a call once it comes by. You better come quick, though.”

“Trust me Mike, I have no reason to waste time.”

I pushed the red phone button on my cell, ending the call. I turned to Trixie, who had watched me place the call.

“...why did you have a one-sided conversation with that thing in your hand?” she asked.

“It’s not one-sided! This is a phone! I was talking to one of my friends through it,” I explained

She had a quizzical look on her face, scrunching her face in thought as she tried to find a comparison. “So...it’s a mystical object that mimics telepathy?”

“Telepathy? What th-oh right, wherever she comes from has creatures that use magic. Of course she’d find a comparison that way.”

“...eh, let’s go with that. It would probably take too much time to explain how phones work, anyway.”

Trixie moved her face up and down in what I can only assume was a nod. “So, this Mike you called...do they have Trixie’s hat?”

“No, but they’ll have it soon. He’ll call me back when it shows up, and then I’ll just head down there and get your hat back.”

That was not the answer Trixie was looking for, since her face became angry again.

“You mean Trixie has to wait longer for her hat?!”

“Well, I certainly can’t make this go any faster! This is the best I can do!” I shot back.

“Mmf,” Trixie grumbled. “How much longer do you think we will need to wait?”

“However long it takes for Mike to call back...although it’s usually within an hour.”

“Fine. Trixie will come back in an hour, and you BETTER have some good news to say about my hat!”

Trixie tried to pull her head back, but it was stuck. I could see her grit her teeth and her face squeeze as she tried to get her head through the portal, but it was no use. A wicked idea began to form in my head as I recalled how her first visit went...and now that she’s stuck, it’s payback time.

“...you’re stuck, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Trixie is NOT stuck!” she lied. “Trixie is...merely taking her time leaving.”

“Oh?” - I was hiding a wide smile behind my hand as I spoke - “Well then, take all the time you need. Like I said, it’ll probably be an hour until my friend calls back.”

I walked away from the trash can and into my kitchen. I needed to eat something, so I checked my fridge. Inside it were a few slices of leftover pizza from two days ago, eggs, milk, some bologna and cheese, and various fruits and vegetables in my crisper.

I settled on making a bologna and cheese sandwich. A proper meal would have to wait, since I wanted something quick considering the little revenge plot I had in mind for Trixie.

As I assembled my meal, I could hear her grunt and groan as she continued to try to go back to her world, only to be met with failure after failure.

“You know,” I called out from the kitchen, “I could always help you by pushing on your head or something.”

“Trixie does NOT need your help, Ian!” she barked.

“Eh, suit yourself.”

After making my sandwich, I plopped onto a chair I had set up near a round table just outside the kitchen. I ate silently as Trixie continued her struggles. She would stop at some points to breathe. It was pitiful...and perfect.

After finishing half my sandwich, I asked again. “Trixie, are you suuuuure you don’t need help? All I need to hear is three little words from you, and-”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie has always done things alone! Help is for the weak,” she interrupted.

“Really? Because right now, you’re looking and sounding quite helpless,” I spoke before taking another bite from my sandwich.

“You dare call Trixie weak?!” she snapped.

“Correction. I’m calling your refusal of it a sign of weakness. Accepting help when you’re as stubborn as you are shows more inner strength than you would believe, Trixie.”

“T-Trixie does not need a lecture from you, and certainly not now!”

“Then by all means, prove me wrong.”

I lazily nibbled at the remainder of my sandwich as Trixie doubled her efforts to force her way through the portal back into her world. She yanked, shook, and tugged as much as she could manage in her short burst of energy...but she was still no closer to escaping than she was before. She still had not succeeded even when I finished eating.

I sat and waited while she took deep breaths. I didn’t need to see her face to know that she was mulling the idea of me helping her over in her head. Soon, her stubbornness would give way to modesty and honesty...and sure enough…

“...Ian?”

“Mmyes?” I slyly asked.

“I...I need…” her voice trailed off.

“What was that, Trixie? I didn’t hear you.”

“Trixie...needs help.”

“Is it so hard to say ‘I’? And could you add a ‘please’ in there somewhere?”

“FINE! Ian...please. I need help.”

I threw my arms up in victory. She didn’t see the gesture from where I was sitting, but I didn’t care.

As for how I was going to get her through that portal...well…there was one way, and she wasn’t going to like it.

“Alright Trixie, just give me a minute.”

I left my chair and walked into the bathroom. Spotting my target, I grasped the plunger in my hand.

I realized she might not like it if her face got covered with fecal waste again, so I decided to be thoughtful and cleaned the plunger. Who would even need to clean a plunger, anyway?...I guess I have to now.

Clean plunger in tow, I walked back over to the trash bin and showed her the tool that would free her.

Her response was to take it from my hand with her magic and chuck it away.

“NO, Ian! Do NOT bring that thing near Trixie!”

“What? It worked last time!” I stated with certainty, but she was adamant.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie will NOT be subjected to such humiliation again!”

I countered, “Humiliation for who?! You? The only ones that know about this even happening are you and me right now, unless you happen to be doing this portal thing in front of someone else...you’re not, right?” I asked, tilting my head to the side slightly.

“Of course not!”

“Then what’s the big deal?”

“It was disgusting!”

“I cleaned it thoroughly! Trust me, it’s so clean I could probably eat off of it.”

“...then do so,” she challenged, wearing a small smirk on her face.

...Wait, what?

“Come again?”

“You claim it’s clean enough to eat off of? Then prove it!” Trixie stated with a bit of confidence in her voice...which then gave way to reluctance. “Do that...and I’ll believe that it’s clean, and you can use it on me to send me home.”

“Well, congratulations Ian. You just shot yourself in the foot with that one.”

Dumpster Diving - Part 2

Journal Entry # 268

You’re not going to believe this. I’m serious this time, you would think I was nuts for doing this.

I ate from my plunger this morning.

Yep, it’s true. I even cleaned the plunger and everything before I ate out of it.

I wish I had some rational explanation for this. “All of my bowls vanished last night due to a shady ‘bowl thief’” sounds more reasonable than what I’m about to tell you.

I did it to help send off that strange blue pony that showed up in the trash can last night. Yes, it’s a pony. No, don’t ask me why it’s blue. I’ve long since abandoned reason by acknowledging her existence. Her name is Trixie, by the way.

Anyway, I sent Trixie back to her world by plunging her...again. She wanted me to prove that it was clean...so I ate some cereal out of it. Lucky Charms, in fact. Funny, I didn’t exactly feel lucky eating out of a toilet declogger, but I digress.

She was also none too happy about being plunged, even after I proved it was clean. However, I didn’t exactly hear her complaining once I started. She couldn’t speak...or if she did, I couldn’t hear her thanks to the airtight seal the plunger makes. Silence sure is golden when it comes to annoying voices, I suppose.

She also wants her hat back. You know, the same hat from before. Turns out I tossed it into my trash this morning and promptly forgot that I should have kept it. She threatened me with some weird magic that I wish I could explain to you, but I didn’t have the slightest understanding of how it worked at all...except that it stems from her horn.

...I forgot to mention that she’s a unicorn. And also the magician hat is hers. Her stage name is the “Great and Powerful” Trixie.

Yes, she is every bit as annoying as you would believe her to be. You might actually like her, if given enough time. You were always very good at making friends.

Sadly, I’m not as patient as you are, and right now it’s costing me. I’m waiting on Mike to give me a call when the garbage truck holding Trixie’s hat arrives. It’s been a little over twenty minutes since that call, and I’m getting antsy.

I figured I might as well update you on what was going on, just in case you really did think I was nuts the last time I wrote about this. I have a feeling I’m going to be updating you frequently so long as this Trixie pony keeps bothering me.

...and until I get her hat back, I don’t think she’ll stop pestering me.

It was almost a quarter-till-eight when the phone rang. I answered it immediately.

“Mike?”

“Truck’s just stopped by, Ian. I let ‘em know to separate this truck’s trash from the rest, but you better hurry over here. I can’t stall them forever, got it?”

“Already on the move...and Mike? Thanks, buddy.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. You know I can get fired for this.”

“Lips are sealed as usual, Mike.”

I hung up. In my spare time, I had already gotten fully dressed and prepared to head off to Mike’s workplace. I even packed some disposable gloves. I did NOT feel like handling any more trash or cleaning products with my bare hands after eating from that plunger.

My gaze fell upon the small trash can before I opened the door. Trixie had not returned yet. I began to wonder if it was a good idea to leave her behind like this...and promptly realized that was a bad idea. She could use her magic powers to completely destroy my house...and I couldn’t afford repairs like THAT right now.

However, the alternative solution proposed a different challenge entirely. Placating an angry pony in a car on the way to the local dump didn’t exactly sound like an exciting task. But I didn’t have much of a choice. A chance at a wrecked car versus a guaranteed destroyed home? It’s almost as if my decision had been made for me.

...well, there was another alternative. Just dump my trash can elsewhere. Toss it in a river far away from me, far away from my home, and just buy a new one. What are the odds that pony would visit me through a different trash can, anyway?

Then I remembered how helpless she was. If I tossed my can in a river, that would drown her...and that felt like drowning a puppy. That did NOT sound like an enjoyable prospect to me.

I sighed. “Looks like I’m taking the can with me.”

I wrapped my arm around the trash can and held it steady, its opening facing the same direction I was. I reached for the key bowl next to the front door with my free hand, pulling out the keys to my car before I headed out the door.

And there it was, in all its pristine and wondrous glory: my car.

“Who am I kidding? The thing’s a clunker of a car!”

Okay, maybe it had a few dents and scratches in it (and the horn sounds like something you’d hear from a clown car), but most cars in the city like this are lucky enough to just get scratches and dents. I happen to have good fortune as far as that’s concerned.

Well, maybe that will change today. The passenger I’m taking along might not like cars...or technology. I’m not sure how technologically advanced the world is where Trixie comes from, but something tells me I’m about to find out.

I pressed the unlock button on the transmitter attached to my car keys, and I heard the ‘click’ of the doors unlocking as I approached the driver’s seat. I opened the door and set the trash can in the front passenger seat. I buckled the trash can in as well.

I considered putting the can in the back...but she might roll around back there. The seatbelts for the back seats aren’t that reliable, and I’d rather not have pony vomit decorating the floorboard of my car.

After doing a quick mirror check (and one last look to see if Trixie had come back, she didn’t), I started up the car and began my drive over to the city’s local disposal facility.

It doesn’t matter what day it is here in the city. Traffic just sucks for every second of every minute of every hour here. Honking horns make up most of the ambient noise driving along the roads. The rest of the ambience usually involve drivers yelling, pedestrians yelling, or both. I learned to tune most of it out within a month, although it still doesn’t help that most of the drivers here are...unkind, to put it very mildly. By which I mean their driving skills are as graceful as a drunk bull in a china shop.

Like I said, one is usually very lucky to get away with nicks and scratches when everyone else treats their vehicles like oversized bumper-cars.

I had spent about ten minutes in traffic at this point, and I could have made much better time walking to the disposal facility. However, I had a trash can in tow, and walking along the streets holding that is more than enough to catch the eye of one too many pedestrians here. I didn’t feel like drawing that much attention to myself. Odds are I would also catch the eye of a pickpocket.

“Or a mugger. Maybe even another crazy person carrying around a trash can and claims to speak with a talking donkey!”

Thankfully, before my thoughts had wandered any further than that, I had heard a popping sound come from the trash can. A few silver locks of hair sticking out from the top of the can told me that Trixie had returned.

“Ian, what’s going on? Why is your roof closer than it was before?”

“That’s because we’re not in my house anymore. We’re in my car.”

“Car? What is that? Trixie demands you tell her!”

“It’s a vehicle, sort of like...a horse-drawn carriage, except it doesn’t need the horses to pull it. You know, with wheels and-”

“WHEELS?!” Trixie exclaimed.

I tilted my head. “Yes, wheels. Why, does something bother you about wheels, Trixie?”

“Trixie hates wheels. They are untrustworthy!”

The unfiltered venom in her tone had me begin to question if I was the crazy one after all. What sort of thing could have happened for her to hate wheels? What did wheels do to her?

The car lurched to the right side instantly as two of the tires popped.

“What the?!”

We were less than two blocks away from the disposal facility when not one, but two of my tires decided to give out. I pulled over to the right side of the road and got out of the car to inspect the damage.

Both tires had blown out, but I didn’t find the object responsible for shredding my tires. It must have been a broken bottle on the road or something like it that decided to play havoc with my wheels. I was prepared for one flat tire, but not two, and certainly not at the same time.

I opened the passenger-side door and stuck my head over the trash can to look down at Trixie.

“Hey, Trixie. Guess what?”

“What?”

“I hate wheels too.”

Dumpster Diving - Part 3

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Dumpster Diving - Part 4

I’m thankful Trixie didn’t say anything when I came up to Al. I just realized I would probably have a very hard time explaining a girly voice that sounded like it came out of me. They’d probably guess that I was “coming out of the closet,” and...honestly, that would probably be much easier for them to accept as opposed to telling them about a pony head in a trash can.

Al is usually a nice guy. He’s a loving family man, but values his job as security for the disposal facility. Once I bothered to ask why a trash dump needed a security guard; he gave me philosophical advice of “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” When I shook my head at his answer, he clarified that sometimes people break in, attempting to find medication for their quick-fix. I didn’t question his job ever again; I know expired medication is a bad thing, but I guess junkies will overlook that.

He’s also notorious for pestering Mike every time I visit. He told me that he actually bets on me losing something one day just to get something from Mike. It’s a good thing he’s easy to bribe; the man loves clogging his heart as much as giving Mike a hard time letting me in.

As I walked through the main entrance to the facility, the tell-tale signs of a busy Friday reached my ears. A truck had just pulled in and was now dumping its disgusting cargo onto a large conveyor belt running along the sides of the walls and across a majority of the floor. Various sanitation workers dressed in white plastic bodysuits, blue nylon gloves, safety goggles, air-filtration masks, black rubber boots, and semi-transparent hairnets sorted through the trash. They picked out whatever recyclable objects they could find like various aluminum cans, clean cardboard, soda and water bottles, milk jugs, electronics and batteries, tossing them all into marked and color-coded containers for proper disposal in other sections of the facility.

Any trash that remains is guided toward an incinerator in the back, which lashes out in flame and thick black smoke as it enjoys the scraps left behind by the workers. Air vents are positioned above the incinerator to filter out the black smoke belching out of the machine. One normally wouldn’t see this black smoke billowing out of here because they’ve set up multiple layers of air filters within the ventilation to absorb as much filth as possible. Mike actually took me up to see these filters when the incinerator wasn’t running one day, and let me tell you, those suckers looked like charcoal sheets. Mike told me they needed to be replaced every two days (sometimes every day), and after seeing those filters, I had no doubt that was true.

One of the unique things about this place is the smell, as it changes every time I visit here, even if most of the items making up the stench are the same. If I told you that the smell today consisted of rotten eggs, week-old curdled milk, and the remains of a public school’s lunch scraps, that wouldn’t even remotely do it justice. If I added in the scents of industrial-strength sanitizers, spoiled fruit, rotten meat and bleach by the gallon, the very scent itself would laugh at my pathetic description of it. I could even add in the smells of discarded cat litter, rat piss, dog crap and human vomit, and it would all pale in describing the stench currently assaulting my nose. When I first came here and saw those air vents filtering out the smoke, some vain part of my mind hoped that it would also vacuum out this horrid smell. Ten or so visits later, it accepted the reality that this place just stinks, and now devotes as much time as it can to making sure I don’t hurl and add seasoning to the smell.

Above me was my destination, an office set up to overlook the facility from above. Suspended by thick steel bars jutting from the roof and metal scaffolding below it, it acts as the central hub through which most orders are directed in this facility. Wire-mesh stairs circled around the square tower to the floor, allowing for a rather impressive visual tour of the place...well, if you find trash disposal interesting, anyway.

There was also a console at the top of the stairway. Mike told me that it was responsible for controlling most of the machinery here, most notably the operation of the incinerator and the conveyor belt. Depending on how much garbage the truck brings in and the amount of sorters available, the speed of the belt is adjusted accordingly to give a fair amount of time for the trash to be picked through before reaching the incinerator.

A few of the sanitation workers noticed me and waved at me. I’ve sort of become a regular face to see here thanks to my terrible disposal habits. Roughly every one to two weeks, I throw something away in the trash that I probably shouldn’t. It’s usually my wallet that ends up in there, but once it was my car keys...and another time it was my cell phone.

That was a fun trip, chasing down the garbage truck because I couldn’t call Mike to let him know that I lost my phone...because my phone was in the trash. The irony of the situation was painful that day, and the garbage truck driver decided to be a blab and tell Mike about it. He hasn’t stopped teasing me about it since, and despite my diligence to make sure something like this never happened again...well, it did. And it wasn’t even something of mine this time.

After ascending the scaffolding leading up to the office, I knocked on the door to Mike’s office. Upon seeing my solemn face, he couldn’t help but wear that trademark goof of a grin he has.

As he rose to unlock the door, he greeted me. “Morning, Ian. You came a little later than expected.”

I took a moment to remind myself of the layout of his office. It was tidy...well, “tidy” is a relative term to use considering where he works. Mike kept his desk mostly clean, outside of a few crumbs of bread from the sandwiches he gets from a nearby Subway. His computer had an Excel spreadsheet on the screen, most likely related to budget management. He was a supervisor after all, so it wasn’t surprising to see him poring over financials.

A picture of his wife and children sat next to his computer, a nice little reminder of his family and why he works in such a nasty place like this. I wish I had the sort of motivation he had for working a job like this. Maybe if I had some amount of fiscal and personal responsibility to uphold, to maintain besides my own well-being...

He had crumpled-up post-it notes scattered all about the floor, most of them gathered around a small trash can he had placed in the far corner of the room. For a moment, I was thankful Trixie didn’t show up in that trash can instead of mine; I have a feeling she’d be pissed beyond belief to have a barrage of paper balls assault her with no way of escaping. At least with my can she had an escape route...of sorts.

“Uh, hello? Earth to Ian. What took you so long?”

“Car troubles, Mike. Two flat tires.”

“Whoa, seriously? Like, at the same time?”

“Yep.”

“Dude, how did you even manage that?”

“I don’t know, and it’s not even worth asking about. I came here for the hat, remember?”

“Right. The garbage truck pulled in about fifteen minutes ago, and I had its contents put into a dumpster just outside the back door. I hope you’re ready to do some divin’.”

“Aren’t I always whenever I lose something moderately important, Mike?”

“Like your cell phone? Or your car keys?”

“Mike, now is NOT the time to remind me of those incidents!”

“Ian, every time you come here is the perfect time to remind you of your klutzy actions. You’d probably lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on tight.”

“That analogy doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Dr. Seuss thought it did.”

“...you still watch those old cartoons?”

“...you remember that I have a wife and two kids, right?”

“Point taken. Anyway, I’m ready to start dumpster diving.”

“Great! I got a spare suit hanging over on a rack to your right, as usual.”

“Oh crap, I completely forgot about wearing the suit! Trixie will stick out like a sore thumb that way!”

I walked over to the suit rack and pulled off the bungee cord sling holding Trixie. I grabbed the suit and hung the cord on the rack, thinking that I was sly as a fox with how smooth I was with swapping the suit for her.

“Uh...dude, what was that?”

“What was what?”

“That thing you did. It looked like you took off an invisible purse.”

“What? Oh-uh, I had a sudden itch on my shoulder, but it went away.”

“...riiiiight. Ian, if you wanted to come out of the closet, you could have picked a much easier way to say it.”

“WHAT?! Nonono, it’s seriously an itch and-”

Mike laughed. “Relax buddy, I’m just messing with your head.”

“You do that way too often,” I said as I began putting on the suit.

He shrugged. “Gotta entertain myself somehow, and you’re a good source of humor, Ian.”

“Most of it at my expense…”

“Hey, I can’t help it if you do idiotic things like tossing important things into the trash. I’m just an agent of karma here.”

“I need a new agent.”

Mike chuckled. “Sorry Ian, they’re fresh out. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

I sighed, zipping up the suit and putting on the gloves. “Can we just get this over with? I’m ready.”

“Sure, let’s go. As fun as it is to keep you here for my entertainment, we’ve got a hat to find.”

I didn’t have time to explain to Trixie what was going on. I just hope that she picked up on the fact that I couldn’t take her with me over to the dumpster so she could use that magic spell she mentioned earlier. Maybe she could use it from inside the office or something, and if so that would make our search for it much easier to accomplish.

“Please, Trixie, for the love of God, don’t do anything crazy.”

As Mike and I descended down the stairs, we caught up on more small talk. He told me about his family and how his daughter Elsa recently celebrated her seventh birthday. He’s not a big fan of large parties, so they just kept it within their home, and only invited their closest family members.

I told him about how funny I thought his Centrum Silver gag was, and he laughed. I also told him about the incident that happened that night...albeit with a changed detail where Trixie was replaced with a giant spider. He laughed even harder at that, knowing how much I hate spiders.

Soon, we reached the back door, and Mike opened it, revealing a sea of dumpsters beyond. He pointed out the dumpster holding the contents of my trash (and others along the truck’s route), a stepladder standing in front of it to allow access from the top.

“Alright, you happen to remember what kind of trash bag you used? That should narrow things down,” Mike said as he climbed onto the stepladder and hopped into the dumpster.

As I ascended the stepladder, I thought back to the moment where I bagged up the trash, and remembered blue plastic drawstrings on the bag.

“Blue drawstrings.”

“Ooh, good memory. A lot of the drawstrings we normally see here are white, red, or yellow. Blue’s less common, so this should be quick.”

An inward sigh of relief took place in my head. Maybe I didn’t need her spell after all to find the hat if Mike was ri-

“Uh, Ian? We might have a problem here.”

I gulped. “What kind of problem, Mike?”

“‘A lot of blue strings’ kind of problem.”

“Well, sh-”

Dumpster Diving - Part 5

“Ian? Ian, are you there?”

I received no response. It had been roughly twenty minutes since he left me here, according to a clock hanging on the opposite wall I am currently suspended on. Was he taking his sweet time finding my hat?!

“Argh, useless human. IAN!”

I sighed. As much as I appreciate his help, there’s no way I can fully trust him until I have my hat back where it belongs. I can’t even help him with my tracking spell because I don’t know where that dumpster is! I...I feel so useless right now.

No, I can’t be useless! I need to do something to help Ian get my hat so our business is concluded. Maybe if I can move this trash can somehow...oh, DUH! Levitation!

Charging magic in my horn, I focused it on the trash can, and sure enough, it became lighter and easier to control. YES! The Great and Powerful Trixie can move herself around without needing to be carried!

I floated up and off the hook and moved toward the door, angling the can to get a better look at the handle. If I can get this open, I can look around and hopefully find Ian. I understand his need for secrecy, but so long as no one sees my face (the trash can is still invisible), I should be fine.

Coating the door handle with my aura, I twisted it until I heard a loud ‘CLICK’ as the latch was released. I was about to pull on the door when someone garbed in white opened the door. I didn’t have time to hide my face as I sheepishly grinned at the human.

Their response was to scream and back away, hitting some large mechanical box behind him. I don’t know what that thing did, but it stopped the human from falling as they scrambled down the steps, screaming out “MONSTER” as they did so. How dare they?! Trixie is no monster!

Hmph, so much for being subtle now. The sooner I find Ian with my hat in tow, the sooner I can get out of here so I don’t cause any more trouble for him.

“Mike, any luck yet?” I asked.

“Nope, still digging. Sometimes I can’t believe the stuff people toss in here.” He held up a case of DVD’s discarded in one of the bags he cut open with a box cutter. “Sheesh, who would throw away a perfectly good DVD set of Doctor Who?”

“Mike!”

He gave me a skeptical look. “What? It’s not like we’re any closer to finding the hat, Ian. Heck, at this point I’m beginning to wonder if it’s even in here, so I might as well look for other stuff that’s worthwhile.”

I sighed before pleading, “Can you please focus? I really just want to get this hat and leave, okay?”

“I know, I know. I’m trying to focus here. Look, there’s just four bags left! Your hat’s gotta be in one of those!”

Grunting, I tore into one of the four remaining bags, and almost puked. Someone discarded some spoiled meat in here and a fly had found a way inside. The stench of decay and maggots filled my nose as I turned my head away, struggling to breathe.

“Whoa, dude, are you ok--OH GOD that is horrible!” Mike came over to check on me after my display. That was a mistake he regretted immediately.

Both of us walked over the garbage to the opposite corner of the dumpster, gasping for fresh (well, fresher) air.

I coughed. “You know, I’m surprised you’re not used to smells like this by now.”

“I’ve built up a tolerance, but sometimes I still get surprises like THAT. Those you can’t really prepare for,” he said.

I just huffed in response before I found another bag and pulled it out of the trash. Mike slashed at it with the box cutter.

The smile on my face couldn’t be wider as I spotted that familiar blue fabric. I reached in without hesitation and plucked the hat from within.

“YES! Friggin finally!” I cheered.

Mike patted me on the back. “Congrats, man. Now let’s get out of-”

A static-filled voice cut him off as his radio buzzed to life.

“MIKE! We have a problem in here!” A distraught-sounding worker spoke through the radio, a slight static background noise present while they talked.

“10-4. What’s the problem?” he asked.

“This place is HAUNTED! There’s a flying trash can moving around!”

“Uh, come again? Did you say 'haunted'?”

I groaned loud enough for him to hear, and the look he gave me was both inquisitive and irritated.

“...Ian, you wouldn’t happen to know about this, would you?”

I didn't have time for this. “Can this explanation wait? I have a feeling that I should get in there and fix this problem before it becomes an international incident.”

“International?”

“Explain later!” I shouted as I rushed past him towards the facility, hat in hand.

Mike shrugged and let out a deep sigh. “This is going to be more trouble than it’s worth. He’s going to owe me one-no, ten cases of Miller after this.”

I didn’t hear what he muttered, but I didn’t have time to think on it. My mental faculties were too busy wondering what crazy stunt Trixie is pulling in there. I knew she couldn’t do anything since I didn’t see anything different about the hat when I found it, but someone HAD to have seen her for that sort of response to come through Mike’s radio. After all, there aren’t any other flying trash cans...wait, flying?

As I opened the door, I looked around for Trixie, not even noticing the fact that the facility was completely empty (it wasn’t hard to deduce that she was responsible for that). She wasn’t hard to find, as that invisibility spell seemed to wear off as she floated along the conveyor belt (or she gave up keeping it up, having been spotted and all), her aura holding her up steadily as she looked through the garbage along the way. I’m not sure why she’s looking through it; she heard Mike say that the trash was in a dumpster out back, right?

“Maybe she got scared and thought the garbage was dumped onto the belt by now. Mike and I did take a long time…” I reasoned to myself before shaking my head.

“TRIXIE!” I shouted, walking towards her, holding up her hat triumphantly.

Her eyes snapped up from the garbage below her as my voice reached her swiveling ears. For a moment I saw a brief smile flash across her face; I got her attention.

...a little too well, for I snapped her out of her magic concentration as she fell onto the conveyor belt, which was now moving at a faster pace than I remembered as it guided her to the incinerator. It took me a moment to realize she wasn’t floating back up, which meant that impact likely knocked her out.

“Ian!” Mike yelled as he came up next to me. “What’s going on?”

“Mike, I need to get Trixie off the conveyor belt, NOW!”

“Who’s Trixie?”

“MIKE!”

“Okay okay! I’ll get up to the console and slow it down! Don’t you dare climb on the conveyor belt until I do that, alright?”

I ignored him and climbed on top of the conveyor belt, running down it to try and reach Trixie. Mike yelled something about me being an idiot, but I didn’t care. If Trixie burned in that incinerator after all this trouble I went through to get her hat…

I didn’t think further past that point. I just ran. Stumbling over the garbage as I fought against the speed of the conveyor belt, I slowly made my way forward. The crunch of cardboard, glass, and plastic made a cacophony of noise beneath my feet as I neared the downed trash can.

I’m not sure how long I was running before I tripped. It wasn’t my fault, though. The conveyor belt slowed down a little and threw me off-balance as I crashed into the garbage below (Mike must have reached the console and slowed it down). I was thankful for the suit Mike had given me; this would’ve taken weeks to wash out of my regular clothing.

I looked up at Mike for a moment in frustration, then looked behind me. I didn’t put a lot of distance between myself and the incinerator. Was the conveyor belt really moving that fast? Or was I just too slow?

I stumbled to my feet and shook my head before I saw the trash can again. Now that the belt was moving slower, I could leisurely walk over to her and grab her, whisking her out of danger like some modern garbage hero.

I turned the can up so the opening faced me, and Trixie’s unconscious face was inside. The fall must have rattled her head around plenty, so I was careful when exiting off the conveyor belt so I didn’t cause any more damage.

Mike had come down the steps once I obtained the trash can. I didn’t make any attempt to hide Trixie, given what she’s done to the fine people of this facility already.

“Whoa, so that’s...oh god, that Trixie?” Mike asked upon closer inspection of the pony.

I tilted my head to the side. “You know her?”

“Er, sort of. I remembered seeing her in a show my daughter and son watch every Saturday morning.”

I raised an eyebrow in slight disbelief. “...you watch the show too, don’t you? You wouldn’t casually remember her so well if you didn’t.”

He shrugged. “...maybe. It’s for the kids.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” I sighed. “Anyway, Trixie is safe, but I think she needs a bit of rest.”

“Great! So, where’s the hat?” he asked.

Time slowed to a crawl as I realized I didn’t have the hat with me. I must have dropped it when I tripped, but didn’t think about it because all I was trying to do was save Trixie and--OH NO!

I turned my head to the incinerator, and for a brief moment I saw the blue fabric of the rim of the hat before it tumbled inside, causing a gout of fire to spurt out from the machine.