Saturday (EDITED!)

V1.5

              The sun shone through the window, waking me from my ever-so pleasant sleep. Groaning, I buried my head into the pillow, trying to go to sleep again. Unfortunately, it didn't want to give up, so after ten minutes or so fighting the sunlight, I finally decided to get up.

              Now usually, waking up and getting out of bed was pretty trivial-you know, throw off the blanket, start mumbling about the weather but today, for whatever reason, I couldn’t even grab my blanket. It was like as if someone had severed off my hand and gave me a doze of painkiller, hoping that I won't realize it. “Gah! What the crap!” I asked no-one in frustration, only to notice that for some reason, my voice sounded off tone. To give you an idea how off it was, it sounded like someone had changed the pitch to high and made it sound like a girl's...oh, and squeakier. Or did I accidently take a lot

              “Qwerty! Errm… hello? Is the world still sane?” Nope, it’s still a girl’s voice. Another thing I realized was that MY HANDS WERE GONE. Instead, in their place were hooves, covered in light blue fur. Being a brony, my reaction was mixed. So I was happy that Five Score might be true, and I could leave this bloody planet and go to the land of Equestria and live happily ever after with other ponies. However, the (small) part of me that wanted to remain as human reasoned with me, saying that either I ate something bad or I'm simply dreaming. Besides, hooves meant no more Counter-Strike, Half Life or Halo! Shrugging that thought away, I decided to focus on the next task ahead-getting up and away from bed.

            Getting away from bed was easy, I just rolled around until I could shake the blankets loose. While doing so however, I could feel something furry attached to my back that felt like a pair of wings or something. Landing on the floor rather painfully, I winced and allowed myself a couple of minutes to rest and plan ahead.

            It took me a couple of minutes just to stand up, since a ponies’ centre of gravity is different from a human. Ever tried walking on four limbs? It's something like that, only that your arms and legs wanted to keep on wobbling. So walking was out of the question, unless I wanted to keep on tripping up and falling face-first into the floor. Annoyed by my temporary disability, I finally gave up and resorted to dragging myself around my room with what used to be my hands. Believe it or not, even that was hard!

              As any person after an operation, I wanted to see how I looked. So, hoof by hoof, I dragged myself to a rather girly mirror that my sister, Andrea had never wanted and dumped into my room. If you're wondering how girly, it was pink with random girly characters on it. (Although I had scraped them off and painted ponies on it instead.)

               Standing up in front of the mirror that I had never bothered to clean, I managed to get a good look at myself, and I found out that I had really had changed into a Pegasus pony. To be more exact, my OC from my Crap-fic, Aquasplash. For those of you who don’t want to read it or haven't since I deleted it, she’s light-ish cyan blue, with a dark blue mane and a stripe light-blue running through it. Her (or my) irises were green and her cutie mark’s three clouds. (Never thought of explaining why though.) Also, I could flap my wings and fold them in, which was far more easier than trying to walk.

        When I had finally gotten the hang of walking on all fours-that took me like about half an hour, I debated with myself on whether to check on Andrea. She wasn’t a pegasister or whatever term that was, so I guessed (correctly) that she wasn’t going to buy the fact that her brother had somehow magically turned into a mare overnight. In the end, I decided that the best course of action for now was to sit tight and pray that it was a dream that I was living in.

                                                                                     ~~~

              About an hour and a  book later, I heard what sounded like movement in her room, followed by a loud scream that didn’t belong to my sister. I swear to god, if I find another girl in her room, I’m going to shoot myself in the face.I muttered. That was when I was faced by another challenge: the doorknob was too high. You see, it turned out that a pony was shorter than the average human being, reaching only about a meter in height. Sitting down on the floor, I started thinking for a solution.

          After eliminating the possibility of kicking the door down, I came to only one feasible conclusion: I had to stand on my hind legs to get to it, since I have yet to master flying. Another problem was that the doorknob was round, which made it hard for hooves to grasp. I compromised by using my mouth instead to grab it, twist it and pull the door open. Note to self: Get a unicorn to open doors when possible. Doorknobs taste like crap.

         Repeating the same process again for my sister’s door, I carefully made my way into her room. It was probably full of what you expected from a teenage girl. A dressing table, heaps of clothes in the cupboard, a crate of nail polish and some other stuff that I don’t recognize and don’t want to know. In the middle of the room was her bed and in the blankets, I could make out the shape of something.

          “Andrea? Are you there?” I addressed the mysterious object.

          “NO! I am not in the room! Go away!” came the same voice I heard just now. Rolling my eyes, I headed towards the bed, careful not to trip over her stuff and fall.

Grabbing hold of the blanket with my teeth, I gave it a pull, yanking the sheet of cotton off the bed, revealing the mysterious talking object. What greeted my eyes made my jaw drop. It was (I guess) my sister, also changed into a pony-a lime-green unicorn, otherwise known as Lyra Heartstrings. Funny thing was that my sister never did like instruments.

        “AHH! PERVERT!” she wailed, diving into the cupboard full of clothes. I guess that being a pony somehow stressed her out.

        “Andrea! Chill! It’s me, Jake!” I blurted. I realized saying that I was her brother was a bad idea since she started hurling hangers at me.

        “GET.   OUT.   PERV!” she screamed,  and a hanger hit a glass of water on her dressing table tipping it over and making the liquid that was inside to drip onto her favourite handbag. (Not that she was going to use it anytime soon anyway.)

        “Why? I’m also a pony.” I retorted, dodging a spiky bracelet thing. "And I'm also a girl now. So please stop?" I reasoned with her.

          “Because I’m naked!” She replied, finally running out of clothing hangers and resorting to clothes and pillows.

Well, that explains a lot. I thought to myself before making my hasty escape from the her seemingly infinite supply of stuff to throw at me. Now would be a good time to leave her alone. I decided as I slammed her bedroom door shut.

          Looking at a conveniently placed clock, it was already 10 a.m. so I decided to make myself breakfast. The problem was, to reach the kitchen, one had to go down a flight of stairs-and judging by my basic motor skills so far, I wasn’t really confident that I could reach the bottom of the flight of stairs without getting seriously injured. Since I also couldn’t slide down the railing due to my tail, now seemed like a good time to try out flying.

         Spreading my wings, I tried to recall all those science lessons they had in school on birds, only to come up blank. Shaking my head in frustration, I gave up and decided to make it up as I went. Running to gain some momentum, I jumped off the platform. It went pretty smoothly, until halfway through I realized that I was going to crash into the wall unless I figured out a way to hover. Panicking, I started to lose control and not surprisingly, I crashed face-first onto the ground. Groaning in pain, I made the last few-shaky-steps into the kitchen.

                                                                                    ~~~

          Making Bacon didn’t seem like a good idea since as far as I knew, ponies are vegetarians. In fact, a potted Fern on one of the windowsills suddenly started to look extremely appealing. Throwing away the thought of eating it away, I started rummaging through the fridge, only to find out to my disdain, there were next to no greens in it. Only some carrots and something that looked like leaves was present.

           “Oh well, guess I’ll have to try.” I mumbled, tearing apart the packing of leaves with my teeth. Since my mom keeps the dishes in shelves that were above the counter, I ate directly from the packet, chugging the contents down. To my surprise, they tasted sweet and crunchy. I guess that being a pony meant that my sense of taste had improved drastically. I must have wolfed down half the packet before realizing that Andrea needed to eat too. Abandoning the packet of leaves, I proceeded to prepare the carrots. I found a pail of water that happened conveniently lying around, probably rain water or something, judging that the water was pretty clear. Dunking the plants in and letting it soak for a while, I munched on them, finding them a bit too sweet for my liking.

                                                                            ~~~

        Just as I was settling down on living room couch to think on what to say to our parents, my Mom suddenly appeared, holding a Taser. How in the world did she get here? I wondered. The next thing she did was pretty shocking too.

         “Get out horse!” she snarled, pulling the trigger.

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  I managed to doge the two arcs of electricity before they managed to make contact with me. “No no no no! Mom! I’m John! Your son!” I protested, jumping onto a shelf like a cat.

       Fact:Did you know my mom wasn’t an animal person? Think of her as an animal terrorist. Instead of going ‘Oh no, you can’t be my son or something’, she became madder. Seems like sentient ponies that know how to talk pissed her off even more. Pulling out a fire axe out of nowhere, she started hacking the cupboard.

     “GRAH!!!!” she shouted as I made a beeline upstairs, somehow managing to figure out how to use my wings and fly.

      That was when Andrea finally decided to suck it up and go out. I crashed into her and just as she began to insult me,  Mom came up, still brandishing the axe. “What’s going on?” Andrea asked, her eyes widening.

       “TANK!!!” I shouted. It the first word that appeared in my mind. And after all, Mom did seem like one now. Shoving her back into her room, I slammed the door shut. In my adrenaline-fuelled panic, I threw everything I could at the door, hoping to block Mom outside. You know, cupboards, clothes and the odd table.

       “The Faq?” Andrea/Lyra said, looking at me.

      “No time to explain Lyra! Mom’s mad!” I wailed, crawling under her bed.

“My name’s not Lyra.” She pointed out, still not getting the fact that we were possibly in peril. Ignoring her protests, I grabbed her hoof and pulled her under with me, while Mom was stuck outside, hacking the door away with the axe.

                                                                                                 ~~~~

       Mom must have made a huge racket with whatever she was doing since we heard Dad shouting at her a couple of minutes later for waking him up and trashing the house. After awhile later, it seemed that Dad had managed to calm her down and a immediately after that, Dad started knocking on what was left of the door. “Come out kids! I know you’re there!” He cooed.

        It was pretty reassuring to hear his voice. Seeing that Andrea was already moving some of the things that I had used to block the door, I decided it was safe enough and began helping her.

       “Dad. Do you promise not to freak out when we come out?” I asked while clearing away the blockade. I did not want Dad to go berserk just like what Mom did. Even though he was sane, a lack of coffee could do strange things to him. Besides, running on fours was more tiring than I thought, and my wings ached like hell from their first ever usage.

      “Yes.” He responded, with a hint of annoyance.

Well then, here goes nothing I thought as we shoved away the last piece of junk. Crawling under the trashed doorframe, we greeted him with a sheepish smile.

       "Hi Dad." That was when he promptly fainted and fell onto the floor.