Not\e/worthy

by YarnWeaver

Chapters

Sk8er Boi
Interlude: Believe
I Was Born to Love You
Rock This Town
Highway Star
Interlude: ABC
Y.M.C.A.
September
Canned Heat
Interlude: Survivor
Material Girl
La La
Walkie-Talkie Man
Makes No Difference

Sk8er Boi

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 3: Sk8er Boi

Saturday, P.E.07 - 10:16 P.M.
La Marque, TX - Someone's Father

My son has been kidnapped.

My son has become a pony.

My son has been kidnapped because he has become a pony.

Father...

Please give me the strength and the peace of mind to cope with this.

The four of us had quickly mobilized after getting Jack's call. We were already on the road to the Walmart where Danny worked when my phone rang again. It was Walmart. My son had named me as his Emergency Contact after all.

They told me basically what Jack had told me in his call.

It wasn't long before we arrived at the Walmart in La Marque. A lot of what happened after that was a blur. I don't recall much, but I do clearly remember the exchange we had with the officers in the Security Office.

"Security cameras in our break room confirm that, no sooner than 05:40 P.M. this evening, your son, our associate, Daniel Elijah Michaels was transformed into a pony. His change was witnessed by a half-dozen of his fellow associates. No more that twenty minutes later, a large group of similarly garbed men and women forced their way to the back of the store, kidnapped your ponified son, and fled the scene. No individual or group has yet to step forward to claim responsibility, but the investigation is ongoing."

Then they showed us the security footage.

Or...in this case, "HOOF-age"?

Ugh. I hate it when that happens sometimes. Now is not a good time for puns.

The four of us watched the video together.

Frankly, I didn't know what to expect.

I quickly spotted my son sitting at one of those fold out plastic, circular, white tables. Then I saw his lay his head down on his lunch box, hugging it as he did so.

Then he started changing.

At first it just looked like his shirt was becoming a little looser around him, but then I noticed what was happening to his face. His eyes were swelling up under his eyelids but never out growing them as his nose and jaw began stretching forward like rubber. Even his hair was changing. It went from that center part 'do that he always liked maintaining to a frazzled mess between his growing ears. I also took note that, one the whole, he was getting smaller.

A lot smaller.

It was then that I noticed that his right hand, the only one visible from the camera's viewing angle, appeared to be receeding into his wrist!

It all became too much for me. My son was loosing his humanity right before my very eyes!

"Wait. Back that up a bit."

All eyes turned to Bartholomew, my youngest son (my wife and I had decided long ago to give all of our children Biblical names).

He continued, "That guy there is texting someone, but he's staring right at Danny while he's doing it."

Once I see it for myself, I'm not particularly surprised that he noticed it and not us. Barty was always a bit of a social butterfly as a boy. Always talking on the phone whenever he could. Always wanting to visit with friends. We may not have been financially capable of keeping up with the latest and greatest in technology, but he sure took to what we could afford with gusto. I'm still amazed at how fast he can type on those things without even looking at what he's doing.

One of the store's managers who'd been called in for our briefing looked surprised, "Why, that's one of our Department Managers! Surely, he couldn't have..."

I quickly searched the screen of the clip from where I stood. I could've been wrong, but everyone else in the video who seemed to be paying attention was either just sitting there with their jaws hanging low or else appeared to be trying to shoot a video of it with his or her camera phone.

The officer seemed very interested in this new development as well, "Ma'am, " he was addressing the Manager in the room, "we're gonna need to ask that associate some questions about all this. Will you cooperate with the investigation?"

"Oh, I will, sir. Absolutely."

Then the cop told us it would be best to just relax and they'd handle the rest.

Argh! I wasn't trying to rhyme! Stop doing that!

Anyways, after we finished viewing the rest of the video (it was a quick snatch-and-grab, but they looked more than a bit disorganized in their execution), they thanked us for our help, told us they'd keep in touch with any breaks in the case and sent us back home. James, my eldest son, volunteered to drive for the trip back, and I didn't object. My wife and I had a lot to think about back on the property.

11:01 P.M.
Santa Fe, TX

Jimmy soon brought our early-model Ford F-150 into Superior Mobile Home Park, our home. It was actually more like a miniature traditional community that we owned and maintained. We'd inherited the business from my wife's father, and we've had to make a lot of changes and updates since. The aesthetic was nice, there were porches with porch swings on every unit, everybody had big yards to enjoy, and we even had a circular drive around a fairly large gazebo for events. There was even a large, open field for the kids of whomever rented here to play in however they wished. It was on the opposite side of the drive from the gazebo and a little farther down. We owned all of the units on the property as part of the business, plus a few empty slabs of cement with all the
proper hook-ups to serve as RV parking spaces.

We cruised along on the drive at a calm 10 mph. until we parked in the carport adjoining the largest double-wide unit on the property, our home.

Once inside, I found my way over to my usual spot on the couch in the Family Room and sat myself down.

Father...

What am I supposed to do?! I already knew that Danny called himself a Brony or whatever. I am thankful that he had the courage to admit it, but I only saw it as the latest in a long line of cartoons that he really shouldn't have been watching for a man his age. Now, he's in a whole lot of trouble, and I..he..we all need your help, together. I know you've got a hand in this somewhere, Father. Please reveal to me your Will in this situation, and place a hedge of protection around my son as he faces the trials ahead of him. Amen.

"Honey, what are we going to do about this?"

Jennifer, my wife was sitting next to me, her left arm around me.

"I don't know what else we can do but pray and hope God will deliver our son from the hands of the Enemy."

Soon, James and Bartholomew had joined us in the Family Room, and we all prayed together, each one in turn. We ended with a song of Worship to God that he had laid on our hearts.

Eventually, we broke our circle, and just sat together in silence for a while.

Then Barty spoke up, "Well, there is one thing we could do to get a better handle on all this."

We all waited for him to continue.

"Maybe we could try to understand his position a bit better by seeing what he likes so much about the show in the first place? It is on Netflix."

Bartholomew, are you really suggesting this?!

He must have picked up at my extreme aversion to the notion, because he kept going.

"Dad, whether we like it or not, Danny's a part of this whole thing that's been going on in the world. People all over the place have been turning into ponies; every calendar in the world now shows a week to be as long as a year; and I know this show has some of the answers as to what's behind all of this."

Wait. How can you be so sure about that?

Again, I hadn't said anything, but he still quickly deduced what I was about to say and cut me off.

"He and I had a deal going. I wanted him to see more of Batlestar Galactica, and he wanted to share this show with me, so we decided on an exchange. I wasn't really interested in the show at all to start, but, partway through the first season, I found myself enjoying it."

"I find that a little hard to believe, Barty." I replied.

I mean, it's a show for little girls, for cryin' out loud!

"I don't know, Damon, maybe we should." Darling? Are you serious?!

James let out a huff as he went for the remotes to our T.V. and Cable Box and the game remote for the boys' Nintendo Wii.

"Well, if we're really going to do this, we should probably start at the beginning. You know how he always like doing things in order."

"Now hold on!" I interject, getting up, "How can you all be so sure that this isn't some sort of invasion? If what you say is true, and these ponies are showing up all over the place, taking over people's bodies while they sleep, and transforming them to fit their own likenesses, then that, to me, sounds like an attack! We were created in the Image of God, and they're changing that image!"

For a moment there was silence.

James was the one to break it.

"Well, you do have a valid point, there Dad. When Danny tried to get me into the show, I flat out refused. I know I'm a sucker for cute things, and I didn't want this to become a new obsession for me."

He looked like he was choosing his words carefully for a moment.

"If it is an invasion, then shouldn't we still use every resource available to us to find out as much about them as we can?"

I feel my wife tenderly put her hand on mine.

"Let's watch it, Honey, for Daniel."

Sigh...alright. For Daniel.

"Okay."

Jimmy turned on the T.V., Cable, and Wii system, and was soon on the Netflix loading screen. He then quickly found the show in the "Popular" section. Fifty-two episodes. He highlighted the first one. He hesitated, as if waiting for any further objections.

I didn't give him any.

Author's Note

Damon: Do I think Danny isn't good enough to be my son after this? Just because he's no longer human?
No.
Never.
Just you hold on, Daniel. We'll figure something out.

Interlude: Believe

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Interlude: Believe

Someday - Sometime
Somewhere Cramped - Somepony Caught

Nothing.

Nothing happened.

I'd shouted at the top of my lungs, and...

Nobody heard me.

There was no help to be found.

None whatsoever.

I was truly alone here.

Alone...

I pressed myself up against the grated door to my cage and peered through it to try and see as much of the outside world as I could.

It wasn't much to look at.

Lighting in this room was limited to only a single fluorescent bulb hanging from a chain. I appeared to be on a raised shelf about three and a half feet above the cement floor.

Hmmm...

That's new.

I wasn't usually that good a judge of distance.

Now I won't say I'm afraid of heights, but I will however say I'm afraid of heights in combination with unstable footing or support. Completely different thing.

Now, what I mean to say is, whenever I looked down in the past, it always confused me for one simple reason: I couldn't ever tell how far away the ground was.

I had little to no visual depth perception.

I mean, I could see and discern shapes, and people, and things and...stuff, but I still found myself bumping into things on occasion. It was rare enough that I didn't really feel I needed glasses. Reading was just fine, and I didn't need that much practice before I could navigate a place correctly, but new places had a habit of...tripping me up from time to time.

Getting glasses prescribed did help matters, but it was a huge blow to my pride to find out that I actually needed them (to me, it was the one thing the rest of my family had to rely on that I didn't). One more thing that eluded me prior to this was the final nail in the coffin:

I couldn't ever see the images in those darn Magic Eye pictures!

You know the ones!

Those infuriating, jumbled-up messes of colors and little images of cartoon characters that were supposed to pop up into a 3D picture when you crossed your eyes and looked past the page it was on.

Yeah, those never worked for me. Not for a lack of trying, though. Never got anything more than a vague, flat outline.

Wait.

Where was I...?

Oh yeah. Depth Perception.

And me apparently having some now.

Moving on from the floor, I noticed a door on the wall to my left. It looked like it would open outward and to the right and had one of
those bar-handle doorknobs. Most likely locking from the outside seeing as I can't make out any sort of locking mechanism on this side.

And probably currently deadbolted, too; knowing my luck.

Well, maybe not luck, per se. I'm not that superstitious. All I know is that over the years, I've noticed that I tend to be a bit of a...eh...

...a "magnet for glitches".

At least that's what I call it.

It hardly ever failed: forms I filled out for college would get lost in the system, messages I left would get accidentally deleted, and just about anything to do with computers that was time-sensitive fell apart unless I repeatedly checked up on them.

If I were more suspicious, I'd probably think that there was something out there that really didn't want me to succeed.

At anything.

Anyways, I happened to notice that the ends of the screws that must've held the hinge to my cage's door secure.

Duh, of course, it's on the outside.

Hold on...

I lift up one of my...forehooves.

That's still gonna take some getting used to.

I tap the edge of one of my hooves with the tip of the other.

Maybe...

Author's Note

Me: I can feel something inside myself. A part of me doesn't want to resign to suffering this isolation until it ends. I don't see much hope of me getting out of here, especially with the fact that I don't even know where "here" is.

There might be something I can do, though.

I Was Born to Love You

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 4: I Was Born to Love You

Someday - Sometime
Somewhere Strange - Somepony Stranger

There's usually just one thing I'm wont to do when I'm otherwise occupied with some mundane task or another (like Cashiering).

I hum.

I hum a lot.

I also snap my fingers a lot, too.

Or, I used to.

I used to be so jealous of both Jim and Barty for taking to whistling so easily, while I could never really get the hang of it even when they were trying to help me learn.

So I went with the next best available option:

Humming.

I've put a lot of practice into it over the years.

Lately, it's almost like I'm singing with my lips closed.

Not that I'm that great of a singer.

So, while I'm absentmindedly banging my hoof against the door to my kennel, I'm just humming away to any old song that pops into my head. Mostly instrumental stuff from video games and whatnot. Some Tetris Attack, some Banjo Kazooie/Tooie, maybe a bit of Rayman Arena thrown in to spice it up.

I know, I have some weird tastes, and I often commit to those weird tastes a little too hard.

Like the time I wondered if combining three of my favorite flavors as a kid would work out great in a birthday cake. I'm talking about a mint-flavored cake with butterscotch frosting and grape filling between the layers. You may now commence gagging.

How was it? Well, I sure don't know. Mom and Dad never budged an inch on their decision to not make that dream a reality. No matter how many consecutive years I asked for it. I eventually stopped asking. I figured they were just trying to protect me from getting disappointed.

They were probably right, anyway.

This door sure was stubborn.

I mean I must've been rapping on it for at least half an hour by-!

-KA-BASH!-

And then my hoof hit empty air after finally forcing the door off its hinges.

I froze.

I immediately realized my mistake. By removing the door so violently from the cage, I was causing enough noise to alert whomever had put me in here to my efforts to escape! Especially once the door clatters to the floor with a-

-pomf!-

"Pomf?" I repeat incredulously.

I look down, out the open end of the cage, and I see the once imposing door lying harmlessly on the carpet below me.

Wait, hadn't the floor been concrete a moment ago?

I inch myself closer to the edge of the shelf to get a close look.

The floor is indeed carpet now, when I know I saw concrete before!.

How is this even possible?

The shelf I was on was still a few feet from the floor, though I'm still not that used to being able to tell. Cautiously, I shuffle the rest of me out of the cage and onto the wooden shelf proper.

Finally, I'm out!

Looking around, I noticed with some disappointment that mine was the only kennel on the shelf, besides being the only thing of note in the room other than the light bulb and the weird, colorful carpeting.

Oh yeah, the carpet. It's actually interesting to look at.

There's a whole bunch of different colors in it, and even more interestingly, I can't spot any repeating pattern to it.

And that's like one of the only things I'm actually really good at.

Few as they may be.

That's one of the reasons I loved Tetris Attack so much. Once I got into it, I realized how quickly I could take in all the patterns of the different colored panels and arrange them to my liking for Combos and Chains. The fact that it was a puzzle game sure didn't hurt either. I love me some puzzles.

In fact, now that I think about it; patterns and me go back even further!

Way back when I was in Kindergarten up in Michigan (my folks and I only moved down to Texas a little over nine years ago), I couldn't help but just soak up all that PBS edu-tainment on TV. I'm talking, Sesame Street, Beakman's World, Square One, the works!

Probably liked them a little too much, in retrospect.

I mean, seriously, when my kindergarten class was having a party after school at the end of the year; I had fun, sure, but when I realized that staying for the party meant that I'd missed Bill Nye the Science Guy, I flat out started crying!

What? My folks couldn't afford Cable when I was a kid. So sue me!

Anyway, there was one little segment I saw on Square One one day that really got me hooked on patterns.

It was a music video featuring a guy whose music I'd later discover that I really liked.

It was "Patterns" by Weird Al Yankovich.

Good stuff. Good stuff.

So believe me when I say this: I know a pattern when I see one, be it in words, numbers, shapes or colors. I'll spot it.

I didn't see any here.

Now, while I was certainly impressed that someone could make a carpet to cover this room without repeating any elements in it, the mere fact that there weren't any such features to begin with was kind of unsettling.

Eh...

Oh well, weird carpeting is still carpeting, I guess.

I get my forehooves under me on the shelf and prepare for the short jump down. I felt an odd sensation, however, right before my hooves left my perch. It felt like my tail was twitching back and forth like I was a cat about to pounce.

Unfortunately, this new aspect of my pony body distracted me enough that I fell off the shelf at and awkward angle.

Whoops...

Another audible "Pomf!" and I was on my side, on the floor. It was actually pretty plush and comfy. I almost wanted to go back to sleep right there!

Keyword: "almost".

Now that I wasn't confined to that cage anymore, I wanted to finally have a proper look at myself.

I had a coat of fur that reminded me of Blooregard Q. Kazoo and a mane/tail combo that reminded me of Sonic the Hedgehog.
Then I spotted my cutie mark. It was two sets of cojoined eighth notes that matched my mane and tail color.

I think I know this pony, but I'm drawing a blank at his name.

He's one of the lesser known background ponies, and one of the few background stallions to appear in Season One. I remember seeing him in the Winter Wrap Up number and maaaybe one other episode, but that's about it.

Nobody in the fandom seems to care that much about him.

Lucky me.

I soon find my way to my hooves and quickly realize that I really don't have any idea how to move around in this body.

Well, if there's one thing that going around on two legs has taught me, it's that there's really only a couple of things to do to go from standing to walking.

Step 1: Fall forward.

Step 2: Let your legs handle the rest!

It never fails! In that split second of freefall, there's a shot of adrenaline into my system, and instinct takes over, driving my legs forward to catch me. From there, forward momentum keeps me in motion, and I slide effortlessly into the rhythm of my steps.

So I decide to give my pony instincts a kick-start, because after all, this body should already know how it's supposed to move, even though I may not yet.

I shift my weight, moving my head, neck and barrel all forward at once, and once again, my gravitation towards patterns comes into play.

Fore-Right, Back-Left, Fore-Left, Back-Right, REPEAT!

I'm a bit awkward to start, and I have to speed up more than I was initially intending just to regain my balance, but hey!

I'M WALKING!

AS A PONY!!

HA!

With that problem solved, I turn my attention to the next one: The Door!

My confidence soaring from having mastered equine walking in record time (I don't think I've ever gotten the handle on something so fast in my life!), I amble on up to the barrier between me and...

...well...

...I suppose finding out where I am at the very least.

Now, the bar handle of the doorknob was about a foot above my head. It didn't seem like that much of an obstacle now that I was right in front of it.

Remembering how it looked when they did it on the show, I reared myself up onto my hind legs (again, this is really going to take some getting used to) and placed my right forehoof on the doorframe for support.

I examined my left hoof for a moment, noting the two ends of its arc right about where my wrist used to be. I then carefully hooked that part of my hoof around the bar of the door handle and tried it.

It moved!

I turned it.

I heard the latch click!

I braced the tip of my left hoof against the surface of the door and licked my lips in anticipation. I eased forward.

It budged!!

I quickly pulled my hoof back. Thankfully, I hadn't opened it enough for there to be any noise at its closing, or at least there'd only been a negligible amount.

This was it.

Once I opened up this door, it was either going to be Christmas or April Fools Day for me.

I took a breath to steel my nerves and fought back the urge to hum something secret-agenty.

And then, in one swift, silent motion...

I opened the door!

...and found myself staring slackjawed as a river of green water rushed past my face like a waterfall I was just inches away from being taken by. A few seconds passed before it even occurred to me to close the door back up.

I latched the door and removed my hoof from the handle.

I then rested the crown of my head up against the hard surface of the door and heaved out a weary sigh.

Great.

I got St. Patrick's Day.

Author's Note

Me: Y'know, this is actually kinda fun!

I start just repeatedly opening and shutting the door, a different view to take in each time.

Beach! -SLAM- Haunted House! -SLAM- Desert! -SLAM-

And also getting sillier with it as I go.

Hey there, Boggy, how's the kids? -SLAM- Ooh! Bigger on the inside! -SLAM- Group Therapy? Groovy! -SLAM- VULCAAAANOOOOOOOOOO!!! -SLAM!-

Rock This Town

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 5: Rock This Town

Someday - Sometime
Someplace Confusing - Somepony Challenged

It's a door to anywhere.

A portal of indeterminate destination.

Through all the times I've opened it over the past several minutes, I've seen the Moon, the center of maze of mirrors, the inside of some guy's tooth cavity, and the D.M.V. of some county I didn't stay long enough to identify.

None of them were places I wanted to go.

It was all just random.

It also didn't seem to have any limits on where it could take me, however.

I wonder...

Up 'till now, I haven't really been thinking about where I want to go. I saw a door, I puzzled at where it would lead. I guess I found out.

Well, I did have some fun with it there with those last few, but that's beside the point.

All I want to see on the other side of this door right now is my home.

Wait...why not?

I grin, wondering if it could really be this simple, and I open the door to find...

...space.

There's a familiar-looking galaxy floating perfectly framed in the doorway. It matches up perfectly with what I remember from telescope pictures of the Milky Way.

Uh...well, it's technically right, I guess.

Apparently it responds to my desires. Maybe I just need to be more specific.

I immediately brought to mind the image of the white three bedroom, two bathroom trailer with blue trim that my brothers and I are renting from my folks back at Superior Mobile Home Park.

Then and only then did I open the door.

And there it was, in all its glory...

...in a JPEG image file supplied by a search engine imbedded in a webpage being viewed by a browser maximized on a monitor attached to a computer sitting on a desk in a room that looked like it belonged to a hyper-accurate viking weaponry reproduction enthusiast.

-SLAM!!!-

The door safely latched once again, I turn my back to rest against it and slowly lower to my haunches (yet another thing I'm not completely comfortable with yet) as I try to rein in my runaway pulse.

"I certainly hope...whomever looked that up...either...wasn't that serious about it...or...lives too far away...from Santa Fe...to even look into it." I choke out between raspy gasps.

At least this pony's not having an asthma attack over this. Thank you, God.

Once I've calmed down sufficiently, I get back to my hooves and face the door once again. I narrow my gaze, hoping to pierce through some hidden cache and plunder the cheat codes within.

Okay, what have I learned? Not thinking about where I want to go can get me anywhere, but it'll be just that: not where I want to go; trying to influence where I'm going with my desire will lead me as far away from where I actually want to be without technically failing to show it to me; and being as specific as I can possibly be about where I want the door to take me...isn't something I want to try again.

Maybe...

Am I being too literal?

Well, it's worth a shot.

The Abstract, nuances, feelings, descriptions from the heart, not the mind.

"I want to see an inviting glow, a light of warmth, a gathering of family, a safe haven; I want to see my home."

I open the door to find...

...it's cold.

I see a marquis fallen into disrepair. A barely flickering arrow above it points to a heavily snowed-in building with a tall steeple, a cross barely visible at its apex. Several large, unidentifiable lumps litter the area in front of it. A large illuminated rectangle is visible through the mountainous piles of white. As I stare at it, I realize it's slowly dimming.

I can't turn away. Even though I can feel my eyes sting, I can't turn away.

I just stand there, transfixed, as that one rectangle grows fainter, and fainter, and fainter...

...and then vanishes.

My eyes turn back to the sign. The whole thing is so caked with snow that I can't make out a thing about it but the weakly blinking arrow.

I pass through the doorway.

There's something I need to see.

I trudge through snow that reaches my shoulders over to the dilapidated thing. There's a drift piled up on its opposite side, but I don't feel any wind. Getting up on my hind legs again, I push against the bottom edge of my side. I see a bit of snow fall off from the violence, but it's not enough.

I push away from the sign, but just before my center of balance reaches what I remember it being for my old two-legged stance I tilt my neck and head forward, allowing my motion to reverse. The sign also sways form the sudden action, and soon, its motion reverses as well.

I coil up my forelegs...

...and strike!

"That did it!" I cry.

And then...I read the contents of the marquis:

"MY HOME FO
T E OLIDA S "
-GOD

The blinking stops.

Ishutmyeyesandruntheotherway!

The trail I trudged toward the sign offers little resistance, and the piled up snow on either side of it guides me back to the door. My hooves suddenly are no longer crunching through old powder but sinking into wonderfully plush carpeting yet again.

-click-

I collapse to the floor in a fit of whimpers.

I just lay there for a while and cry.

Sometime Later

The carpet is warm, but I still feel cold.

I lost track of how long I laid there mourning, but I eventually ran out of tears to shed. After a short prayer to God for everyone who was there to be delivered into His Hands and a whispered "Amen," I slowly opened my dry, crusty eyes.

The door had apparently latched itself back closed behind me. Whether it was from the air pressure change of me rushing back through the doorway or...whatever, it didn't really matter.

Once again, I found myself leering at the door.

I think it's safe to say that this thing is actively trying to use its own properties to torture me.

Then it hit me.

When I tried to use my mind to beat it, it retaliated against my mind.

When I tried to use my heart to beat it, it retaliated against my heart.

A PATTERN!

"It's been turning my every strength into a weakness and mocking it." I conclude.

I now realize that if I try to direct it in any way, it'll undermine and attack the source of those directions.

I smile.

There might just be a way.

I rear up once again and ready my left hoof on the handle like I did each time before. Then I put my plan into action.

I declare, "I just want to go the one place it makes the most sense for me to be."

I open the door.

Okay, I know I hadn't tried to expect anything, but I certainly didn't expect this!

What I see through the doorway is the same closet I'm in right now, but rotated 180 degrees so that their respective doorways meet!

No...wait.

Hold on.

Something's wrong here.

I notice that the light's off in the other closet.

Then, I look over at the shelf in the other closet and find that it's empty.

Finally, I look at the floor...

...THE CEMENT FLOOR!!

I think...I did it.

I walk through the doorway into the other closet...

...and close the door behind me.

Suddenly, a hissing, crackling noise gets my attention. I turn around to see a purple wavy field of energy that's sporting checkers motif, to top it off, attached to the door I just closed.

Then I see it start to collapse in on itself.

It's disappearing.

Within seconds, the door that's been getting in my way for the past several hours now looks little more than an ordinary, white-painted oak door.

I did it!

I WON!

GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!

Yeah, don't mind me. Busy ROTFLing.

Day ?? - ???, ??:??

I eventually pull myself together and get to my hooves.

I've still got a stupidly giddy grin on my face at my victory.

I turned that door's own properties against it.

Oh, there was no doubt that it'd give me what I asked for, that was the one thing that was consistent with each attempt I made. However, it twisted my request into something that would take me as far away from where I really wanted to go as it could. Then whenever I tried to manipulate the parameters of my request in order to force it to take me where I wanted to go, it lashed out at the source of those directions.

It was a classic "Genie's Conundrum".

So all I had to do was make the door supply its own directions.

Now the only thing standing between me and finding out where I really am is one completely mundane and ordinary door.

As I size it up I notice that the handle for this door is actually positioned so I'll have to use my right forehoof instead of my left to work it. Makes sense, I guess. I'm on the other side, now.

Just like before, I hook the bottom of my hoof around the handle, turn it 'till it clicks, brace the tip against the surface of the door, and push.

Nothing happens.

"No..."

It can't be.

I push harder and harder still, throwing my whole, admittedly lesser, weight against the door, but it still doesn't even budge!

"After all that..."

I pry myself off of the offender and back onto all fours before turning back to level it my best glare.

"...the darn thing's DEADBOLTED!!'

THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD IT! I'M DONE! DONE! DONE! DONE! DONE WITH THIS!!!

I'm not even thinking anymore at this point.

"I!"

I turn away from the door and drive my forehooves into the cement floor, cracking it.

"WANT!"

I coil up all of the muscles in my body at once as my hind legs lift off the floor behind me. I shut my eyes in rage.

"OUT!!!"

All of that condensed power and emotion is released.

-KA-BUCK!!!!-

The entire door assembly, including doorframe mind you, explodes off the wall, flies through the room behind me...

-KA-CRASH!!!!-

...and defenestrates itself.

It takes a lot longer for the next impact I hear than I was expecting, so out of curiosity, I follow the trail of carnage to the window it destroyed just in time to hear the symphony of crushed concrete and rebar followed by a flurry of car alarms. I then become acutely aware of another curious fact.

I'm in a skyscraper.

"HOW IN THE WORLD AM I IN A SKYSCRAPER?!"

And then I look up.

The cityscape stretches out for miles before me.

Then when I look to the right, I spot an unmistakeable landmark, and I dread what its presence implies.

The Statue of Liberty.

Somehow, I'm in New York City...

...in a pony body I don't fully recognize.

How...? I don't know anyone here. How will I get home?

Then I feel something that makes everything worse.

The building shifts beneath me...

In an instant, I find myself back behind what's left of the closet wall, desperate to get something between me and the wall with the blown out window.

Somebody...

Anybody...

Help.

Author's Note

Me: How did the builders even manage to get cement flooring poured for a closet this high up anyway?

I believe I should be worrying about myself...

Highway Star

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 6: Highway Star

Someday - Sometime
Somewhere High - Somepony Low

This is easily the worst situation I've ever been in.

I'm stranded in a skyscraper in the middle of New York City.

-grroooaannn-

Make that a slightly unstable skyscraper in the middle of New York City.

I lose track of how long I sit here, clinging to the remains of this wall...

...trembling.

Eventually, I feel the shifting building beneath me start to settle.

Shortly afterward, I don't feel it shifting at all.

Huh...

Must've been the buck to the door. Equal and opposite reaction and all that.

"Well, I'm not gonna find my way out of here while cowering in the closet."

I walk cautiously over to the only other point of interest I can see: the blown out window.

Craning out my neck as far as I dare, I take a moment to just drink in the scenery. I don't know what the majority of these buildings are called, but they're everywhere! Cutting into the sky and reflecting back different sections of clouds. I also notice that I can't see the sun from where I'm standing, not in the sky before me, nor in the images I see reflected off of the other buildings.

That probably means its right above me, like it's noon or close to it.

However, I decide against looking up to confirm that. Too risky, I've already got my head out the window, I don't need to potentially blind myself. Instead, I decide to tempt fate in a different way.

I look down.

Ambulances.

Fire trucks.

Police cars.

News vans.

Oh no...the door!

I hit something!

I might've just hurt somebody...or worse!!

Wait. What's that sound?

-wopwopwopwopwop-

Helicopter!!

I...I...I...

I can't stay here.

I can't let them find me.

I run.

Why am I running?

I'm a small, blue pony who was just standing in front of a blown out window from which a door, with frame still attached, just fell and caused a lot of property damage and possibly hurt or killed somebody...

...and I can't explain how I got here!

That'll color everything else I say in the wrong light. There's no doubt about that.

So down the hall to the right of the broken window I run, and through God's Providence or simply fortunate happenstance, I don't care which, I quickly spot an elevator at the end of the hall.

I waste no time in making my way up to it, only to discover another unfortunate fact while I was still several feet away. The call buttons on the wall adjacent to the elevator doors were just out of my reach. They were even higher up the wall than the handle was on the late closet door.

I wasn't about to let that stop me, though.

Using the momentum from my run through the hall, I coil up the muscles in my forelegs and hind legs in sequence and spring across the last few feet and up to meet my target: the button with the downward-pointing arrow.

-KA-CRUNCH!-

My right forehoof does the job of pressing the button a little too well.

Thankfully, the hoofprint in the wall doesn't interfere with the call button's job, as I hear the telltale -ding- of the call system responding to its prompting.

I wait.

Of course, for me, that's nothing new.

I've always tried to be a polite and patient person, pleasant even. It comes with the job. Customer's always right, after all.

Even if some of them are determined to remain unsatisfied.

Please, just stop yelling at me!

Sometimes there's just nothing I can do. They mistake the silence of my focus for rudeness.

Please! I'm just trying to do my job!

Even worse are the times when my only relief is markedly absent.

It won't end. The line won't end! They just keep coming!

I can't leave my register with customers still in my line, and the only way to call for a break shuts down my ability to continue scanning until they respond.

Can't keep them waiting. Have to keep going. Customer complaints can be hazardous to my employment.

-Ding!-

The doors open, and I dash inside.

They close behind me.

I can see my reflection in the polished brass walls, and the carpet, while less plush than that old closet, is still quite soft beneath my hooves.

I'm alone. It's a fact that I seem to keep restating for some reason.

Thankfully, the button for the ground floor command is more within my reach. I don't even have to rear up to press it.

Soon enough, I'm listening to an instrumental arrangement of an old Blues song.

Wait a minute.

Wasn't that what the fandom was calling this pony? 'Blues?'

"Oh, please! What kind of a name is that?"

I freeze.

That wasn't me.

Slowly, I turn around. I'm still in the same elevator room with the same brassy walls, and the same velvety carpet. There isn't anyone else here.

Weird.

My quizzical expression eyes me back.

"Not as weird as you."

My reflection just spoke without me.

What's going on?!

"I'm talking to you. Are you really that dense?"

This can't be happening! I can't be losing it now! I've still got to get out of here and find someplace to hide!

My reflection face-hoofs.

"Ugh, the things I do to try to motivate this guy..."

Wait...is the me I'm talking to...talking to himself?

"Whoa. Whoa. Dude, I am NOT you."

Huh?

"Wha-? Seriously?! How can you not be getting this?!"

What's there to not get? How can you not be me? You look just like me!

"Argh...Hold on."

I suddenly recall an old quote from one of my favorite movies as a kid.

"Strike that. Reverse it. Thank you."

What? Where did that come from? What are you doing?

"I'm TRYING to make this easier for you. Apparently, it's not working, so I'll be blunt. YOU'RE the one who looks like ME!"

I can't believe this.

No...this has to be some sort of trick! A distraction! You're some apparition sent here to trip me up! And you were sent here by whomever it was that did this to me in the first place!

"What?"

Yes, that must be it. The door must've brought me to New York ahead of schedule and-

"YOU'RE NOT IN NEW YORK!"

What? But I saw-

"-the Statue of Liberty? I pulled that up from your memories just like I did that quote just now. Just like everything else you've been seeing."

H-How is that even possible?!

"Oh, you made it very easy. You don't guard your memories at all. Plus, the fact that we're in a dream right now sure didn't hurt."

You could serve cake on my eyes with how big they got from that slap to the face, while my reflection just donned a victorious grin.

He continued.

"I wanted to know how you would handle being locked up like that, seeing as that's our reality right now."

I was stunned.

His grin disappeared.

"I don't like the results. At all. You never for a moment took it seriously! Any concern you showed for your own safety was an afterthought! You were treating the whole scenario like it was a game you could win! LIFE ISN'T A GAME!"

I was barely listening to him by this point. There was only one thing on my mind.

The door...that was you, too?! Why?! Why would you put me through that anguish!?!

"By that time, I was so disappointed with your performance that I decided you needed a wake-up call. You know, something to get you to think about what you're doing. You passed that one fine, and for a moment I actually thought you could handle what's going on outside."

The proud smile that had been growing on my reflection was then firmly replaced by a scowl.

"Then you go and do the most RECKLESS thing in the world! Seriously?! Just bucking the door off its hinges is gonna have some MAJOR consequences, you know!"

I can't keep eye contact with him. He's right, and I was wrong. I'm not ready for this sort of thing.

So, what happens now?

"Now? Now we work together to try and make it out of this thing alive. We start on that by getting to know one another while we have this chance."

Oh, okay. Introductions, then: My name is Daniel Elijah Michaels.

"It's nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Noteworthy."

Author's Note

Me: That's an interesting name there, Noteworthy. Well, I'm certainly glad to know that you're helping me out. For all I know I'm 400 miles from home right now.

Interlude: ABC

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Interlude: ABC

Sunday, P.E.08 - 9:34 A.M.
Santa Fe, TX - Someone Different

I don't remember when I fell asleep.

The pony show didn't really hold my attention. I lost count of how many episodes went by before my brain bit the dust. Sadly for me, falling asleep on the Family Room couch happens more often than I'd like.

Frankly, I've got a few issues with this show. For the time that I was awake, I felt like I was being subjected to something borderline offensive. Power only comes from one of two places: if it doesn't come from God, it comes from Satan. This show supporting the lie that power can come from within a person without regard to either of its true sources flies in the face of one of the founding principles of what I as a Believer adhere to.

And yet I heard Bartholomew laughing at some of the jokes he's doubtlessly heard before.

And yet I saw James struggling to hold in his outbursts over how cute he thinks the characters are.

And yet I felt my wife pull me closer and gasping during parts that she felt were more dramatic.

And yet I was reminded of some of the cartoons I saw when I was a child, with their morals employed to teach invaluable life lessons to those who needed to hear them.

After seeing the pilot for this show, I was ready to call it quits and just go to bed right then and there. It was clear as day to me that the show was going to continue to rely on those whatever gems of theirs to solve all of their problems. Magic seems to solve everything, after all. However, I was coaxed back into my seat, and, to my surprise, it seemed as though every last trace of the "magical powers" they went through two episodes searching for wasn't important anymore. The adventure was over, and they went back to their everyday lives.

The fact that the unicorns all have magic in and of themselves still bothers me, though; as does the fact that there isn't a single respectable male character in the show that isn't rendered ineffective or ridiculed.

However...

That they would choose to show one person doing all the work associated with running a farm struck a chord with me.

I know how that feels.

Though I may outsource several of the jobs that require specific skills that neither I nor my sons posses, nearly all of the maintenance work for Superior Mobile Home Park is done by me. Whether it be reflooring, repainting, or even just cleaning; whenever someone moves out, it's my job to make sure that the unit is ready for the next potential tenants as quickly as possible.

And I don't do hack jobs.

So I found it refreshing that the farmer pony, I think her name was Apple Jacks, learned a lesson that I have all too much experience with myself: the pitfalls of overextending yourself and the merits of asking for help when you need it.

And that was only four episodes in, if I recall correctly.
'
It was uncanny.

Despite all my misgivings, preconceptions and objections to the very idea that this show even exists, I somehow found myself...

...entertained.

The next couple episodes I vaguely remember each being about someone of the main cast being pitted against a new antagonist, but by then I was starting to doze off where I sat.

I awoke to later on to my wife shaking me and shouting my name.

"Damon! Damon, wake up!"

Something was wrong.

I felt like a rag doll in her hands.

I snorted awake to find the three of them gathered around me, seemingly aghast.

"I'm up. I'm-"

That...was most certainly not my voice.

Barty gets on his knees in front of the couch and looks me right in the eyes.

"Dad, I'm sorry to say this, but you've been ponified."

I sat there in uncomprehending disbelief for a few seconds before I remembered that this had just happened to Danny as well less than a day ago. I look down at myself...

...and am immediately reminded of individually wrapped slices of American Cheese.

"What?"

Author's Note

Damon: All I did was watch part of the show, find something that I could connect with, and then fall asleep. Is that really how easy becoming one of these ponies can be?

Y.M.C.A.

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 7: Y.M.C.A.

Sunday, P.E.08 - 9:52 A.M.
Santa Fe, TX - Somepony Nutty

Sadly, Church was forgotten that day.

It's something I regret even now.

Jenny, Jimmy, and Barty were quick to offer me any help I might need, be it cooking breakfast, carrying me to another part of the house until I could walk on my own again, or searching online for solutions, respectively.

It was strange, being so small. I would almost equate it to my own time as a small child, but my mother was nowhere near as caring as my own wife and sons have been, even before this happened to me. It was not a happy time; I'll leave it at that

I asked James first for him to take me to the Master Bathroom. On the way there, I spotted a couple of peculiar items laid out on my and Jenny's bed.

The first was a small, yellow polo shirt, and the second...

...a rubber chicken.

Those were definitely not there last night.

However, from the moment I laid eyes on them I could feel an almost tangible longing for them. Though I know for a fact that I've never seen those two particular items before in my life, it feels like they're mine.

James is just as dumbstruck as I at their inexplicable presence, but I regain my wits quickly and tell him to ignore them for now. I need to see what's happened with my own eyes.

We get to the long mirror above the dual sinks of the Master Bathroom, and I finally see my reflection.

I look so young.

I was a man in my mid 50's before. This pony appears to be just entering his prime with large, pickle green eyes, cheesy orange fur, and a single curled lock on his forehead that led into a tangled mass of bread crust brown for both a mane and...tail.

I sigh. Any sort of illusion that I was anything close to being human anymore had just been snuffed out.

James set me down on the counter and wordlessly left the room. I propped myself up with my...arms...legs...I'm not sure what to call them now. I sigh again, close my eyes and bow my head to pray.

Father,

I am so confused. You made me in Your Image, and now I no longer recognize it. Please...Please reveal to me Your Will for my life, and what You want me to do from here. I know that You are the Alpha and the Omega. You can take even a disaster like this and use it for some good. Please, Father, show me the way. Amen.

"Hey, Dad! Grit those teeth!"

"Wha-?"

-SPLAPP!!-

-pomf-

...my son...

...just smacked me...

...across the face...

...with a rubber chicken.

James just smacked me across the face with a rubber chicken.

I just got smacked by a rubber chicken!

How about Chicken a la King? Lesley escaped with a Chicken?! Liverwurst, liverwurst, Chicken, or Liverwurst? Chicken Boo, what's the matter with you? What's wrong, Colonel Sanders, Chicken? Did you order Original Recipe or Extra Crispy?

-SNORT!-

"BHA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!"

In seconds, I'm rolling on the carpet and laughing my head off!

Father, what am I doing? Why do I find this so funny? You know what? I needed a good laugh, anyway. I'm just going to call that a gift! Thank you!

At that point, something just came over me. I didn't fight it, though. I embraced it! I cast a quick, stealthy glance at Jimmy. My eldest son had just committed an act of aggravated assault against his own father; this required some discipline!

He had been stunned by my sudden fit of laughter.

Perfect!

Drawing on instincts from who-knows-where, I spring up at just the right angle to snatch the weapon out of his grasp and toss it into the air. Then I jump back to catch it, and I kid you not, I also throw in a backflip for good measure, catching the offending item perfectly on my head.

All is set.

"Hey, Jimmy-James, I got a question for you! Why did the boneless chicken cross the road?" I pose to my son as I continue bouncing the object of impact into the air with my noggin.

My son, bless his heart, is only able to rasp out a breathless, "Why...?"

I still don't know how I know this is going to work, but I've gone too far to stop now!

Here's the kicker!

I launch the key to my success high up into the air!

I drumroll my hooves into the carpeting and smile in anticipation!

Just as the payload completes its arc, I turn into a small hop forward and land sideways with my forehooves parallel to the front of the under-sink cabinet and my rear up in the air, grinning ear to ear at the fate about to befall my firstborn!

I'm in position.

The chicken falls.

Now for the piece de resistance!

"To get to the Cheese Sandwich on the other side!!'"

The "boneless chicken" flies past the spot on my back upon which I somehow know he always "rode" and lands directly on my rump just above the picture of a vertically halved grilled cheese sandwich.

And his body hits the floor.

"DA-HA-HAD!! OH, GOSH, DAD THA-HAT WA-HAS HO-HO-HORRIBLE-HA-HA!!"

I calmly walk on my four hooves over to his mirthfully contorted face, and fire my next volley.

"Wow, my Punch Line sure was a Gut Buster, huh, Jimmy?"

"AAAAAAHHA-HA-HA STAH-HA-HA-HAHP IT!! I CAN'T BREATHE!!!"

I'm not entirely sure how this next part happened, but before I know it I'm underneath him, and, with a quick flex, I extend my deceptively strong legs and lift him up on my back effortlessly. Meanwhile, the chicken had migrated to its new location, draped over my longer-than-I-have-any-reason-to-be-used-to neck.

I then pronk my way out of the Master Bedroom and into the Family Room where I lay into him with salvo number three!

"Come now, James, no need to get carried away!"

I rear up a bit when I've found a nice spot in front of the couch, and he just flops down onto the carpet, quaking and convulsing.

"GAAAAAAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAA!!! OKAY! I GIVE! I GIVE! UNCLE! MERCY! I'M SORRY-HEE-HEE-HEEEEE!!!"

Then, just like that, the instincts I mysteriously acquired departed, and I stumbled my way over to him and placed my right forehoof on his shoulder.

"I forgive you."

He slowly recovered his wits, and turned over so we were face to face.

"Thanks, Dad. I missed this."

I threw my arms around my son's neck and we hugged.

"Now," I pat him on the back, breaking the hug, "c'mon, get up. Your mother probably needs help in the kitchen."

I hold onto his shoulders as he stands up, and he assumes the, now ironic, "holding" position before I plop into his outstretched arms.

I barely notice that I've lost sight of "Ol' Boneless", but I pay it no mind. I can tell that he's nearby.

That, and something smells lovely!

Author's Note

Damon: To be completely honest, I'm not really that mad at whatever it was that seemingly took over during that performance of mine. No man does it all by himself, and I'm no different. We all need as much help in our lives as we can from God, our families, friends, communities, and yes, sometimes even from the odd orange pony in our lives.

September

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 8: September

Sunday, P.E.08 - 10:16 A.M.
Santa Fe, TX - Someone's Mother

Cheesy omelets with a diced onion and pepper medley is the order of the day. My husband may be our family's best cook, but that certainly doesn't mean that I can't whip something up myself when he's in a bind.

We are married after all; we're not living for ourselves anymore.

It was actually Bartholomew who suggested something with eggs in the first place. I thought we'd need to vegan for this now that my husband's...a pony.

That is still a very weird thought to think.

After a great reminder that Damon was still my Damon even after what happened to him, Jimmy brought him over to the Dining room table, where I'd already set places for the...four of us.

There on the leaf-expanded table's floral print cover were five sets of table settings. I've put out one extra set by mistake.

Oh, Danny...where are you?

I feel Damon put his fuzzy arms around me.

Oh, Father,

I want my Son back. You know I miss him so much, and I'm worried about him. Please guide him in his steps; lead him back to us, Father. In your Son, Jesus's Name: Amen.

I only realize I've been crying once my husband and I break our hug.

I love you, my Daniel, please come home.

Damon helps me recover enough to serve us all up. By this time, Bartholomew's come back from the Office. However, when we were all seated and about to ask God to bless our breakfast, we're cut off...

-KNOCK!KNOCK!KNOCK!KNOCK!-

...by someone at the door.

"I got it!" Barty blurts before he bolts for the door.

-Click!--Click!--Creak.-

"Oh! Hey, Jack!"

"Mind if I come in?"

Well, this was a surprise! After we got his call last night, letting us know that there was a good possibility that Daniel had been kidnapped, he told us he'd be staying at Walmart to cover his shift. He also promised he'd do a bit of digging while he was there. I wonder what he found.

Somepony's Guest

I'll admit it. I was pretty surprised to see a pony at the table when I went into the Michaels's house. I was even more surprised after I made a mental head count.

"Mr. Michaels?"

The orange pony nodded.

"In the..." Mr. Michaels cast an inquiring glance at Barty, "...ponified?"

Barty nodded.

"In the ponified flesh, Jack."

Danny's father; the man who went out of his way to challenge everything I knew; the man who held a firmer stance on the Bible as truth than any college professor I knew had on the Theory of Evolution as fact; the man who was just about as politically incorrect as Michael Moore, but in the opposite direction; is now a pony.

"Wow. Uh, how're you taking it?"

Of course I'm worried about him. He may be a nut, but he's still my best friend's dad.

"Well...better than I thought I'd be, honestly. I've got a lot more energy now than I used to have. This pony is apparently some strange brand of ultra-comedian, because I just slayed my firstborn for slapping me across the face with a rubber chicken a few minutes ago.

The fact that I can see a thoroughly shocked Jimmy staring at him from his spot right behind him at the table makes the play on words work so well despite how bad it sounds that I just can't help it! I just bust out laughing right there!

"WHA-HA-HOO-HOO-HOO-WHAT?!"

"Damon!"

"DAD!!"

"Heheh! Priceless!"

"Yep! But enough about me. Come on! Jenny made omelets, and we were just about to say grace. Come join us at the table, Jack!"

The rest of the Michaels Family proceeded to pick themselves up and congregate at the table in their Dining Room. I notice that there's enough place settings here for all of us already.

Wait a minute...

"Hey, Mrs. Michaels, were you expecting me? I was originally going to just call y'all with what I found, but-"

"No...I wasn't..."

She caught a sharp inhale before continuing.

"...but I'm glad it's out. I was originally just preparing breakfast for all five of us like I used to when we all still lived under one roof, but you're welcome to it, Jack."

"Yeah, about that. You see, I found out that-"

"Hoooold your horses there, Jack!"

Barty starts cracking up again and Jimmy just shakes his head and groans. He just doesn't stop, does he?

"As I said before, we were about to say the prayer for our meal, so please can whatever bomb you're about to drop on us wait until afterwards?"

Now, I'm not a religious person by a long shot, but I've known them for long enough to know that here in their house, same as anywhere else, this is an important tradition for them. I may not agree with everything that Damon preaches to me, but at a time like this? Who am I to object?

"Yeah, whatever."

"Thank you. Now, would you please have a seat so we can begin?"

I oblige.

Someone's Older Brother

Everyone's got their own rituals for a family meal together. For us, it's sitting down at the table together with the food already served and if front of us, and praying for God's Blessing over the meal, Will for our lives and anything else that comes to mind before we begin.

Barty and I usually occupy the same side, Mom and Dad sit across from each other, and that always left two seats left on the side adjacent to the china cabinet, one of which Danny always took.

It was always the one across from Barty.

Am I jealous of that fact? Maybe a little. The two shared a room for most of our collective childhood. They were almost always together, being just a year apart in school. I, however, started school at the right age whereas Danny was started a year late, so I was usually by myself growing up. It was the same case in school or out unless we were playing video games together.

In retrospect, that was probably a bad thing.

Anyway, Jack soon took the seat opposite me, the usual one for guests, and we all joined hands.

Well, we would have all joined hands if Dad still had hands...

...or if Danny were still here.

Still, I grab hold of Dad's right...hoof as Jack grabs the other one. Mom and Barty join hands, and Barty and I make the clasp as well.

Then Dad leads us all in prayer.

"Father we come before you today to bless this meal before us, and to ask for your guidance for this day."

"Yes, Father." Mom added.

"Please help me to understand what my son is going through, and give us Your Wisdom in how we're to move forward in this situation. In Your Holy Name we pray. Amen. So let it be."

Then we all dug into our omelets.

Well...not all of us.

Dad looked to be having a hard time figuring out how he was going to hold his fork and knife with hooves.

"Hey, Dad, do you want some help with that?"

"Hm? Oh, yes please, Jimmy. I'd like that."

He needed some help, and I offered my service. He's my Dad; I know he'd do the same for me.

So I used his fork to cut off a piece of omelet for him, spear it, and hold it up for him to eat.

After he bit down and after I pulled the fork out, his eyes took on a faraway gaze. He chewed with an almost absent looking, mechanical motion. He sat stock still as he swallowed his bite. He was silent for a bit longer before he suddenly blurted out.

"That. Was. AMAZING!"

Then he did something unbelievable. As he eyed the rest of his omelet, some, for lack of a better word, instinct seemed to take control of his actions. He lowered his head a bit, and then he opened his mouth and wedged his tongue under the remainder of his breakfast before tossing it into the air and catching it perfectly in his mouth.

Thankfully, he kept his lips closed while he chewed, though he probably would've gotten away with it if he hadn't; the rest of us were all too stunned to speak.

I wonder what else he's capable of now.

Someone's Younger Brother

After Dad's sudden impromptu Pinkie Pie impersonation attempt, I quickly regained my senses and decided to change the subject before anyone else started dwelling on what Dad just did for too long.

"So, Jack! You said you found something?"

That seemed to snap him out of it.

"Whoa...I mean, yeah. I...after you phoned me back and let me know about that whole deal with someone in the Break Room apparently texting in the order, I did some digging while I was at Walmart, trying to find out who was behind it. Just telling you right now, that was our Store Manager Gina who was with you in the Security Office."

Apparently Dad was done chewing his omelet around that time, because we all heard him audibly gulp it down.

"You enjoying yourself there, Dad?"

He shot a big, goofy grin over to Mom.

"Darling, that was the most delicious meal I've ever had. Excellent work!"

"Aww, thank you, Honey!"

"Getting back on track," I interrupt, "You said that was your Store Manager with us, Jack?"

"Yeah. I saw her go into the back hall of the store later, and I decided to tail her. I won't bore you with all of the details. The important part is this: after chewing out the Department Manager who apparently outed Danny's transformation to whomever it was that sent those goons in to take him, Gina closed herself up in the Ad Office and was calling someone from the office telephone."

"Suspicious!"

Jack nodded.

"You got it. I went over to the Personnel Office and picked up the office phone in that room and listened in as quietly as I could.

She was talking to a woman called 'Greed'."

Somepony Determined

I listened as closely as I could to Jack's story. According to him, this Gina was in league with some strange organization that wanted to round up anyone who'd been turned into one of these ponies and imprison them somewhere northeast from here. He said he heard her mention something about the group that took my son probably being in Texarkana by then. That was close to twelve hours ago now, by his count.

Texarkana was one of the towns we'd stayed in on our trip moving down here from Michigan.

This is all so wrong.

He continued to say that he'd barely missed being discovered by Gina afterward. He was hiding out in the Personnel Office, as he called it, and faked using one of the computers there to look something up in order to cover his presence there in the first place. She chewed him out for being there instead of doing his job, but she apparently failed to suspect him of eavesdropping. Thank the Lord.

At hearing of how close he came to being discovered, Jenny got up and offered him a hug. He was stunned for a bit, but he accepted.

"Thank you, Jack, for looking out for Danny. Thank you for being such a good friend to him."

"Uh...you're welcome, Mrs. Michaels."

After that, Bartholomew said he had something to report as well. There was apparently a new political party that was starting to make some waves online and in the news lately. We resolved to look into it further after breakfast.

Don't worry, Daniel. We'll get to the bottom of this.

Author's Note

Damon: No matter what happens, Daniel, please remember that the true love of your family is here to stay.

Canned Heat

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 9: Canned Heat

Sunday, P.E.08 - 11:24 A.M.
Santa Fe, TX - Somepony Perplexed

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm stumped.

I thought for sure that there was going to be some kind of lead with what Bartholomew found on that new political party.

The People Against Ponies Association.

I mean it makes the most logical sense!

But there wasn't anything we could possibly use to connect them to anything. They were only attached to protests and other political hearings, and Jack noted that the name wasn't even mentioned in the call he overheard, the call that we all know was about Danny's kidnapping.

But no.

There's no concrete proof.

The frame was torn apart in the storm, and we'd have to clear off the foundation and start again.

1:34 P.M.

Breakfast had ended a while ago, and while we continued to wait for a response from the police about Daniel, everyone was doing their own thing to pass the time. Jenny and Barty were in the office, my son searching for more potentially usable articles online, and my wife checking her Facebook for updates. James and I were in the Family Room watching Fox News on TV. Jack...well, after working a full overnight shift and investigating off-the-books I saw no reason to deny him one of our Guest Rooms to crash on for a few hours.

He's earned the rest, I'd say.

Unfortunately for me, most of the news was focusing on this somewhat confusing issues of the weeks now having enough named days to last a year before repeating and how that would impact the upcoming Presidential Election. To say that all of the arguing back and forth was complete and utter chaos was an understatement. I was glad when they finally switched to covering other stories, even if they were all about ponies.

Who's been changed? What are they doing? Where are they going? What's in their way? Who's gonna be hit with it next?

Why is this even happening in the first place?!

My annoyance burned out, I soon found my thoughts drifting back to one thing in particular: that one yellow polo.
Dwelling on it further, I realized that it was likely just the right size for me now, and that it would probably be very comfortable right now. I felt the twinge of longing again, and I wanted to go and put it on.

I need to put on that polo.

And I don't know why.

So, I turned to James and told him what's going on. I then asked him what he thought I should do about it.

"Well, I don't know, Dad. I've never even seen somepony who looks like you, and the only one who acts even remotely like the clown you were earlier is Pinkie Pie. As for the polo itself, I can't say I've seen many ponies even wear clothes in the show. The only significant example was the finale for Season 1, when everyone had gotten dressed up for the Grand Galloping Gala. We'd just finished that episode before Mom noticed that you were a pony."

I do remember that event being mentioned in one of the episodes I'd seen. After that whole cliche'd magical "adventure" they'd had in the first two episodes, they choose to end the first season with a social event? I'm hit by a sudden curiosity, but I hesitate. I've been feeling these strange sensations ever since this happened to me. They feel natural initially, and they seem relatively harmless, but I know they're not coming from me. It's obvious that some of the pony whose body this belongs to is bleeding through into me, and I don't find that revelation appealing.

Father,

This ordeal is becoming more complicated and confusing with each passing hour. Please, Father, give me Your Wisdom. I want to move forward in Your Will, not mine.

"Dad? What's wrong?"

James, who'd picked up on my apprehension, placed his hand around my shoulder...well, shoulders actually. I still have to get used to how small I am now.

Shaking my head to rid myself of my indecision, I turn and gaze up at my son.

"Jimmy, could you do me a favor and go grab that polo from the bed in my room?"

He's stunned for a moment, but he soon complies. I tap my hoof on my couch cushion and he takes the hint to lay the polo on the cushion in front of me.

It appears to be well worn but not weathered. The collar is turned down and creased. The stitching on the sleeve cuffs and hem is maybe a little loose but not too badly frayed. There are no buttons.

Of course, how would a pony fasten them, anyway?

The urge to just squeeze my head into the bottom opening, spread my forelegs through the sleeves and relish the old, familiar garment is thick and meaty, but I grill my mind for the source and press my resistance to it with everything I can muster.

I pause as I realize exactly what I'd been thinking about throughout those last two lines.

Then the further implications struck.

Oh, Father, it's getting even worse! Help me!

I shut my eyes.

I barely hear the sound of my son's worry.

Then, all is silent.

In that moment, I feel a well known peace surround me.

"It'll be okay."

He reminds me that He's always there for me. There's nothing my life can throw at me that He can't handle, as long as I stick by His side.

Father, I trust You.

I open my eyes again and am greeted by the completely mundane shirt.

It only takes a few seconds. I clamber to my hooves and admire my work.

Soon I hear movement in the Kitchen, and my family minus one soon dashes into the room.

This may take some time to explain.

3:32 P.M.

"Wait, so you're saying that it was the chicken that set you off like that on James? And you thought that since the polo was the only other article here that we know must've belonged to your pony, putting it on would've made you act even more like him and less like you? That's what this is about?"

Darling, you nailed it on the head.

I nod.

I couldn't help it. I was feeling really good. After explaining to them what I heard from God and the context in which I heard it, complete with my mental spewing of sandwich puns, they'd come down from their earlier panic. Thankfully.

"Then why are you still smiling like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like Goofy was at Lester's Possum Park."

Okay, I couldn't help it! I let out a large chuckle at that reference. A Goofy Movie was one of the very few Disney movies that Jenny and I agreed on to buy for our boys when they were young. I was against anything and everything that showcased Disney's usual brand of "storytelling magic". Of course I was also against anything that showcased magic of any kind, but that's beside the point.

This usually meant that fairy tales were out, and talking animals were in, to a certain degree.

A Goofy Movie, though, really surprised me. Most films, even nowadays, paint dads, fathers, male legal guardians, uncles, and even grandfathers as inept, uncaring, or just not even being in the picture to begin with. I've seen it mostly across the board. Most entertainment depicts men to be unable of handling themselves or keeping themselves in control without a woman there to take the lead, but Goofy, the most accident prone and klutzy cartoon character in Disney's library, is shown here in three dimensions.

He's caring and kind, wholly devoted to the well-being and success of his son while still being strict where he needs to be to avoid spoiling the boy. When the world laughs at him, he sees it as being surrounded by people who are having a great time, and he A-hyuck's right along with them. The whole dynamic that the movie builds between Goofy and Max as a parent who cares deeply about but unwittingly thoroughly embarrasses his son on a daily basis just by being himself and a son who loves his father dearly but is getting tired of living in his laughing-stock shadow is simply brilliant!

It's a story that constantly keeps me coming back, and I would be lying if I said I didn't identify with Goofy a little bit as he's portrayed there.

Wait, what was I talking about before?

This is why it took so long for me to get through my account of what just happened. I was repeatedly getting sidetracked by the smallest of things and would end up just jaunting down rabbit trail after vaguely related rabbit trail.

As for why I'm smiling right now?

"Why shouldn't I be? I've just received reassurance from God that everything's going to be okay! I'd say that's news to celebrate!"

"Well, if you say so, Honey, then I believe you."

"Hey, I know I'm up for less worrying about unfortunate implications and more focusing on future preparations."

"Now if everythings okay, does that mean you don't need me carrying you around anymore?"

I smirk, "I didn't say it was all okay now, just that it will be. So tough luck, son of mine."

I'm glad to say we all had a pleasant laugh at that.

"Uugghhhh..."

And just like that, we all stopped.

That wasn't anyone's voice that I know.

It came from the Guest Room.

Bartholomew was the first to connect the dots, "No, that couldn't have been Jack. Could it?"

We all rushed out of the Family Room, through the Kitchen and Dining Room and into the Living Room, to which the Guest Room was attached.

Jack had left the door open.

And all four of us were granted a front row seat to a much smaller collection of lumps tossing and turning under the covers.

Then I spotted something odd about how all those lumps were connected.

Wait...six? He's got six limbs?

Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of what laid beneath the covers as one such limb poked out from under the layers of fabric.

It was a wing...

...a bat wing.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I reached out with my right foreleg, grabbed the rubber chicken, and brought him to my side.

"Hold on tight, Boneless, this could get a little rough."

Author's Note

Damon: This is getting more complicated just as it was getting simpler. We've got no choice but to get down to the bottom of this.

Interlude: Survivor

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Interlude: Survivor

Someday - Sometime
Somewhere New - Somepony Nostalgic

We talked for a while about nothing in particular as the elevator continued its descent. I'll admit it was odd just talking to my reflection for so long, though. It was also strange with how he was reflected on the polished elevator doors and how the gap between them distorted the image. If I sat still as just looked forward at it, it almost looked like the gap struck through one of my other self's eyes.

"Well, you're almost here now."

"What?"
"I'm not really there with you in the elevator; I'm just using your reflection to talk to you. I'm actually in another room here, but you'll be seeing me soon. You sent it to the ground floor; that's where I am. It's your Memory Center."

"Wait a minute, if you really wanted to see me personally after putting me through the wringer earlier, then why did I have to do all this running around? Aren't we in a dream?"

My reflection sighed and shook his head.

"You really don't know anything about how your own mind works, do you? Ever since I fell asleep in that kennel they'd locked me up in and found myself here, lucid and everything, I figured out very quickly that it's far easier to make something here or interact with what already exists here than it is to change something. When I realized that you hadn't woken up yet, I got curious. Once you satisfied that curiosity, the best thing I could do was make a linear pathway from you to me."

"Oh, well that explains that, I guess."

I sat in silence for a little longer as the little floor indicator lights flickered downward in sequence.

"By the way," my reflection added, "you remember that 'Door to Anywhere' as you called it?"

"Yeah?"

"I kinda got the inspiration for it from the look and feel of this place."

-DING!-

Well, that was conveniently timed.

The doors open to a dark void that was devoid of everything but doors. There were doors of every shape, size, style and color, and they were all floating in every direction at once.

Well, all except for one.

It had a simple blue doorframe housing it, and its perimeter was the same color, but the lion's share of the door's physical area was made up of a pane of glass with a large "9" painted on it, again in the same shade of blue. It also had a spherical, golden doorknob, and it was standing there on the other end of this nearly empty space, squarely facing the elevator.

"Wait a minute," I said as I studied the unique door from where I stood, "I've seen this place before, but-."

"Well, if that isn't a surprise!"

And there he was. Noteworthy was several yards above me and close to the imagined center of this familiar-looking area. His legs were moving about as if he were swimming through the emptiness that separated him from the myriad collection of doors.

"And here I thought you were a total greenhorn when it came to this place."

I rolled my eyes. I'm no stranger to sarcasm. Growing up with one older and one younger brother under a dad who liked to be a comedian from time to time and a mom who loved that about him kinda has me desensitized to it by now.

"Oh, I assure you, I have never, ever been this lucid in my dreams however fantastical they may or may not have been. No, what I'm talking about is that I've seen this particular room elsewhere. Although right now, it's missing something."

He hovers a little closer to me and the elevator, and I decide to give him a bit of a show.

I started humming.

It was a simple melody, a refrain of six notes followed by alternating sets of five and seven to round out the chorus. As my tune went on, the doors that were suspended in the void began to shift around, dancing to my non-verbal vibrations.

Then I hit the first variation. I let out two groups of four notes, then three notes followed by six and one final note that was held for a measure. During this a multi-hued platform extended from the base of the elevator's doorway and began to form a twisting, undulating bridge across the gap toward the "9" door on the other side. The doors in the void began twirling even faster. They spun in place even as they rotated around each other, and Noteworthy even had to duck and dodge a few times to avoid getting battered around.

I then repeated my six-five-six-seven pattern for the chorus, and I began ambling down the full spectrum pathway before me. As I walked, doors shot down from their places in pairs and lined up on either side of the path, facing each other.

I paid no mind to the various twists and turns of the bridge I was making. I just kept on walking as the song entered its first true verse. I hummed out four notes, then three and three, then seven. Then I rested. Next came four notes again, followed by two and three, then I built up more volume and punctuated the next six and held the seventh for another measure.

I'd closed my eyes a while back, and now I was grinning widely, letting the song flow through me. I was halfway there now. I repeated the chorus again, but I started a bit higher than I had the last two times.

I was in a trot by the time I reached the second verse. It was similar to the first, but the instances of four notes had been replaced with five, and the pair of two-then-three was changed out for a pair of four-then-two. During this verse I heard another set of hoofbeats, and I opened my eyes and smiled brightly at Noteworthy, who'd fallen in step behind me.

I returned to the first variation, and the bridge wound around a few more loops before closing in on the final stretch. The aspect of pony physiology, psychology or magic that lets them pick up on the words to a song must've activated, as I heard Noteworthy's tenor voice ring true to the lyrics of my song for this section.

"| A rainbow road, | a multico- | -lored highway | that curls and curls through the | sky.~ |"

The ribbon of color then attached itself to the bottom of the "9" door, and with that the bridge was complete. Side by side, we broke into a full gallop as doors continued to rain down on either side of us. We sang the last repeat of the chorus together.

"| Following the Love Light! | Let the Love Light lead.~ |"

The knob on the door before us twisted, and the door opened to reveal a bright light that bled into the formerly completely black void.

"| Following the Love Light! | You'll find everything you need!~ |"

I burst through the doorway in tandem with Noteworthy, and saw that the rainbow continued on the other side. It kept on going off into the distant light until we couldn't see it anymore. I also noticed that the source of the light, whatever it was, seemed to be growing.

"Hey, it looks like we'll be waking up soon."

Admittedly, he caught me off guard, as I'd been focusing so much on the light in front of us. I turned around, and we were face to face for what I imagine was the first time since this whole ordeal began.

"Look, I really had fun with that last bit, but I still think you need help with getting out of our little situation in the real world."

For once, I don't feel so daunted by his criticism.

"Yeah, I agree. Truce?"

"Truce."

We bump hooves to seal the deal. However, I quickly find my view of my new partner obscured almost completely by the intensifying light.

"Hey, Danny. One more thing."

"Hm? What?"

"Why are your eyes grey?"

A Jail Cell - Somepony Awake

"Muh whuh!?"

My eyes shoot open, and I find myself on a cold cement floor. I'm in a cell roughly six feet wide by eight feet long, and thick iron bars make up two of the four walls of it. It's a corner cell with a window, also barred. I could see some light through it, but not much.

Oh yeah, and there's a pillow in my mouth.

Today's just gonna be a barrel of laughs, isn't it?!

Sunday, P.E.08 - 4:04 P.M.
Santa Fe, TX - Somepony Pensive

There was only one thought going through my head as I watched what I could only assume to be Jack Match's new pony form rumpling up the covers:

I wish I'd stayed awake for more of that show. I have no idea what I'm dealing with here.

As the sheets uncovered more and more of him, I noticed that his fur was a dull bluish grey, his mane was a messy midnight blue with two parallel streaks of white that reminded me of a stock car's racing stripes, what I could see of his tail mirrored his mane, and his new pony ears were tufted at their tips.

He'll be waking up any minute now, how are we going to break the news to him in a way that won't end with him freaking out?

Naught but a moment after that thought had entered my mind did a completely uncanny notion present itself. At first I didn't know what to make of it. Then the option began building on itself, making connections that seemed to fit so perfectly yet had no conventional business doing so. The sheer audacity...

Suddenly I remembered a quote from a cassette tape that the boys used to love listening to on road trips. It was one of those Star Wars expanded universe audio books from back in the day when such things were still being produced. If I recall correctly, the name of the set from which this particular quote originated was called "Attack on Selonia" or something of the like. It went like this:

"Audacity, is a weapon that must be drawn from its scabbard from time to time."

That logic is difficult to argue with. This option I was considering held no assurances of success at calming Jack down, but there was a high probability that he'd at least be distracted enough to keep his wits about him for the most part.

I am still at a loss as to how I know any of this will actually work, but it worked for that Pinkie Pie character in the show, what was it, three times in the span of the first three episodes? It might just work for me.

Jack's stirring eventually slowed, and after another bout of mumbling and groaning, his nearly cone-shaped pony head emerged from beneath the covers and yawned wide enough for us all to clearly see his brand new set of chompers, fangs and all.

There was a knock on the Office door. Jenny excused herself to get it, closing the door to the Guest Room behind her as she went.

Good, this might not exactly be in good taste to her.

"James, Bartholomew, follow my lead."

They nodded.

Jack stretched his new hooves a bit, and blinked open his bright orange, cat-like eyes. Before he got a chance to look at himself, however; it was time for me to begin.

To the time of a four-beat brass interruption: I reached for something to cover a change in wardrobe, pulled out what looked to like a black party popper, grabbed the trigger string and pulled it. It released a smoky explosion that served its dual purpose of simultaneously getting Jack's attention and obscuring the three of us from view.

A few seconds later, the silence was cut by the crack of a whip.

A low but rapid drum section started up as the smoke began to dissipate. By the time he could see us again, we'd donned some new duds. Barty was wearing white high-tops, a pair of holey blue jeans, a black shirt with a skull-and-crossbones and a frayed jean jacket all topped with a black bandana. James now sported similar pairs of shoes and jeans, a zipped up black vest over a grey short sleeve shirt, a pair of fingerless black gloves, and a black and white handkerchief that was tied up like a headband.

As for me, I was clad in an inordinate amount of black leather, zippers, buckles and straps, tied together by a comically large pair of metal-rimmed glasses. Oddly enough, the chicken had found its way to its "usual" spot on my back and was dressed in a similar manner.

By the time the chilled bassline joined in, Jack looked like he was about to protest. However, my two boys took the opportunity to each raise a pointer finger to their lips and let out a low shush as they stepped off to the sides.

Then I began.

"| You're not the same | as you once were. |

| You're covered in | a coat of fur. |

| You'll start your day | when it's dark outside. |

| My friend, you've just | been ponified. |

Sundown.

Moon's a-risin'.

Alright."

At this point, all Jack could do was let out a well timed, "What?"

"| No hands, no feet, | hooves in their place, |

| A muzzle now | upon your face, |

| A brand new tail | to match your mane, |

| And leather wings | you've also gained. |

| You can take this clear deduction | from this family's patriarch: |
| Your fangs can cut prey to shreds, and | your eyes glow in the dark because |

You're Bats! You're Bats!

You're really, really Bats!

You know, You're Bats! You're Bats!

You know it!

You know You're Bats! You're Bats!

C'mon! You know!

Don't you ask me why, when, what, where or how, 'cause I'll tell you once again

Who's Bats!

Somepony Burned

To say that I was stunned by the display would be like saying unlocking everything in Super Smash Bros. Brawl "takes a while". A cursory glance at myself during a short musical interlude confirms everything he's been singing, but how he's going about telling me all this is just crazy!

I could've discovered this all for myself, thank you very much! You didn't have to do a whole song-and-dance number about it! And why'd you drag Jimmy and Barty into this as well?! This is insane on so many levels!

I don't know quite what came over me next. I just launched into a rant!

"| You've got no tact! | There is no doubt. |

| You didn't need | to spell it out. |

| This song and dance, | I don't understand |

| How you ever thought | it a good plan. |

| If you don't desist, | stop this at once, |

| I'll have to la- | -bel you a dunce! |

| This is not okay behavior | for a man such as yourself, |

| And it kinda makes me wonder | about your mental health, because |

You're Bats! You're Bats!

You're really, really Bats!

You know You're Bats! You're Bats!

You know it!

You know You're Bats! You're Bats!

You know it! You know!

You've gone bonkers, nuts, completely wacked out, and I'll tell you once again

Who's Bats!"

Someone Uninvolved

Seeing my own husband transformed into a pony was bad enough, but seeing a such a beastly looking creature in that bed and knowing it used to be such a dear friend of the family was just too much for me. Thankfully I quickly received a perfect excuse to make myself scarce when I heard someone knocking on the Office door.

I made haste to greet them, closing both the door to the Guest room and the Office from the Living Room as I passed through the respective doorways.

"Coming! Hold your horses!" I shouted once I was close.

I then grimaced at the connotations of my poor choice in words.

Aw man! Now he's got me saying it!

Soon I unlocked the knob and the deadbolt, and opened the door to find...

"Hey there, Jenny. We got here as fast as we could when we heard what happened at that Walmart near you guys. You mind if we come in?"

"Rick! Ellie! Yes, please do."

Rick and his wife Ellie were two of my Dad's best friends for years. Rick would often go gambling up in Louisiana with Dad and a couple of their other buddies for weekends at a time in his later years, and the two of them came down to Texas for the winter every year to get away from the brunt of the freezing weather in their log cabin that Rick built up in the woods of Michigan. Even after Dad passed away, Rick and Ellie kept coming back down to the property, and Damon and I always kept a spot open for their RV. Over time they became our best friends as well, and Rick always offered Damon his construction experience and an extra pair of hands around the park when they were here.

I had only just closed the door back up behind them when we heard the music start. it was low and thumped a bit, and it was coming from further inside our unit. I could easily guess where.

I offered Rick and Ellie each one of the rolling chairs we had here in the Office, and they accepted them gladly.

"Oh, one of them boys of yours over?"

"Two of them are, but..."

My stress over Danny's being both missing and transformed as well bubbled up again, and I stumbled over my words a bit before I could continue.

"...Danny's not here at all right now."

Ellie reached over and put her hand around mine.

"Oh, we know, dearie. We heard about it on the 9 'O clock news back when we were parked in Texarkana. They said he was kidnapped! Oh, we knew we just had get here as soon as possible. Are you doing okay?"

I nodded, but I still wound up sniffling a little.

"We want you to know that our hearts go out to ya'. We also wan'ta let you know that we're here to help ya' however we can." Rick said, leaning forward in his chair.

"We're also curious, you know," he continued, "did you ever find out why those whackos took him?"

I knew I had to tell them about this whole pony thing. Thankfully, Barty left a tab open on one of the office computers with a video he found he found of that press conference in New York with the two pony princesses.

"Yes we did, Rick, but it'll be easier for me to show you something else first."

4:13 P.M.

I showed them the video, and then I went on to explain what happened to Danny, Damon and now to Danny's friend Jack. I also told them what we learned about who was responsible for Danny's kidnapping.

"You mean there's this group of guys out there, this P.A.P.A. group, that wants ta do these horrible things to the poor folks that this whole pony thing happens to? Just because they're ponies now?! That's crazy!"

Rick was almost in hysterics, and Ellie was beyond distraught.

"Oh, I knew we should've come here sooner! No doubt, you've all been through so much!"

Ellie and I shared an all too brief hug before Rick interrupted us.

"Where's 'ol Damon now? I wan'ta let him know we got yer back in this whole thing."

I was reminded of the music still coming from the Guest Room, and after a moment's hesitation, I figured I was curious as to what the four of them were doing in there myself.

I stood up and motioned for them to follow me.

"Oh, he's with Jimmy, Barty and Jack in the Guest Room, last I knew. C'mon."

I opened the door to the Living Room again, and was immediately introduced to the song's strange yet familiar lyrics.

"You know You're Bats! You're Bats!

You're really, really Bats!"

That's all the three of us heard with little variation for about half a minute as we made our way over to the Guest Room door.

"Well gee, I don't think I've ever heard this one before."

"Oh, I can't say I have either."

I knocked on the door.

"Damon? Honey? Is everything alright in there?"

I didn't get a response. The song just kept going.

"You know You're Bats! You're Bats!

You know it! You know!

If you need more time to figure it out, then I'll tell you once again

Who's Bats!"

It was at this point that I felt I couldn't take not knowing anymore, so I went ahead and threw the door open.

"Damon! What's going on in here?!"

I was actually surprised to find the room in its usual condition, my boys no worse for whatever just happened, and, weirdest of all, Jack and my husband practically in each eachother's faces on top of the King Size guest bed, which looked perfectly made.

"Mom! You just missed it!" Jimmy clamored, "Dad and Jack just duked it out in a Pony Music Duel!"

"Yeah!" Barty piped up, "Dad's totally a pony Weird Al!"

"Well, I'll be darned!"

"Oh, my."

Damon suddenly turned his head toward the door, causing Jack to lose his balance and faceplant onto the bedsheets.

"Rick! Ellie! When'd you two get in!?"

4:22 P.M.
Somepony Weird

After we'd all calmed down and gotten caught up with each other, we'd gathered in the Living Room to talk. Rick and Ellie took the loveseat, and Jimmy, Barty and Jenny made themselves comfortable on the couch across the corner of the room from them, Jack was using a few spare pillows to cushion his spot on the carpet, and I was just content to lie down on my wife's lap for the time being.

"So," Rick probed, "you guys plan on going up to ol' New York?"

I sighed, "I really don't know, Rick. That may be where the people who turned into the show's heroines are heading, but is that a good idea for us? I just don't know."

By now, Jenny had taken to petting me gently down the back of my head and neck. It helped me with the stress of the issue at hand, and I welcomed it.

Barty chose this point to throw in his two cents.

"Well, Dad, by the sound of it, there's probably going to be a lot of people heading there, not just the Mane Six. Every one of them is gonna be looking for answers to this whole mess, and if we're there, we might just find some for ourselves."

Jack jumped in next.

"Yeah, but how would we even get there? I doubt anyone who's changed would be able to get through security at an airport, since you'd no longer resemble your ID, and I'm hesitant to suggest driving all the way up to New York from all the way down here by the Gulf."

"Yeah. Not to mention all the inevitable hotel expenses and costs for provisions for a trip like that. Could we even afford it?" James added.

I wondered about that for a moment. Unfortunately, we haven't really been able to save a lot of the money coming in from the business. We've had to invest almost all of our profits back into Superior Mobile Home Park LLC. to fund various repairs for the units and a plethora of badly needed upgrades.

"We certainly have to do something!" my wonderful wife chimed in, "If there is a possibility for us to make it there, and we were able to get in touch with these pony heroes and their rulers..."

She had a valid point. There's no way to know what those two princesses are truly capable of. For all I know they could actually have some way of tracking other ponies down.

"Oh! What if you guys all took the RV?"

Wait, their RV?!

"Ellie, are you sure?"

"Oh, of course, dearie! I insist, even! We were already coming down here to stay for a few months like we always do, and you sound like you need it more than we do right now. It's even fully stocked, you know."

The RV would certainly solve our room-and-board issue, and taking our bed with us would mean we could take turns driving during both the day and the night.

Jack raised a hoof in the air.

"Hold on for a minute here, where would you stay if you lend them your home?"

Well, that is a problem...

Jenny didn't even hesitate, "I see no reason why you can't stay here in our house in the meantime! It would be the least we could do to repay you for being so generous!"

"'Ey! That sounds good enough for me!" Rick supplied.

Of course we would let them stay here. I've worked with Rick, and I know I can trust him with the business in our absence.

That only leaves one question left.

And James was the one to voice it.

"Wait, does that mean we're actually doing this?!"

"Well, of course we are!" Barty butted in, "Is there any possible reason why we shouldn't?"

My eldest was silenced by that remark. However, I soon began pondering it myself.

Is there any reason not to go?

Then I was reminded of that still, small voice.

"Yes, there is."

All eyes were on me, now. I continued.

"As much as I don't like the possibility of it, the fact remains that if it's not within God's Will for us to go, then we shouldn't go."

Jack was the first one to respond.

"I can't believe this! Danny is out there in some strange place, in a cage! You'd seriously tie your hands...hooves, whatever, and do nothing if' God said no?!"

"Yes."

"BULLCRAP!"

Before I knew it Jack had gotten up in front of Jenny's spot on the couch and was leveling me a glare that could drop and elephant at fifty yards, made more effective by those new eyes of his.

"YOU'RE HIS FATHER! HIS FAMILY!! If there's anything at all that I've learned from being around y'all it's that you're there for eachother, no matter what! WHY SHOULD IT MAKE A DIFFERENCE WHAT GOD SAYS?!"

I heard something pop.

"I'll tell you why, Jack."

I hopped down from my beloved's lap and met his glare with a stern look of my own.

"If we start ignoring God's Will, we remove ourselves from His Favor. That means that any blessing He would've given us, any aid He would've supplied dries up and vanishes instantly. If we act outside of Him, we act on our own, and if I'd been acting on my own for all this time, then we wouldn't even be here! We wouldn't be a family in the first place!"

It seems he hadn't thought of that. He's backpedaling, but I'm not through yet.

"God was the one who brought Jenny and I together. God was the one who blessed us with three precious little boys. God was the one who led us from Lansing to Oxford, Michigan so that they could have a better childhood. God was the one who brought us down here to Texas years later so that Jenny could spend time with her dad before he died. God was the one who ordered events so that we could inherit this property. Every good and perfect thing comes from Him, and if I start ignoring Him now, then I'd be throwing all of that away!"

He'd stumbled back onto his cushions, and now he's looking up at me and trembling.

Why? All I did was answer his question?

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Are you going to start making cupcakes now, or in this case would it be fondue?"

"What are you talking about?"

He visibly relaxed.

"OH, GOOD! I was worried there for a moment."

I wonder what that was all about.

I was eager to get us all back on track.

"Let's pray."

We all gathered close to eachother and joined hands and hooves together.

"Father, we're at a crossroads. We have an opportunity now to venture out and seek to rescue Daniel from the clutches of the enemy. We don't know what lies ahead, and we look to You for guidance here and now."

"Yes, Father." Jenny added.

"It looks so convenient, Father. It appears as if everything has fallen into place to allow us this chance, but we don't want to take it if it's not from You. Please, Father, reveal to us Your Will for our lives. Is this our chance to help our son?"

Then, I hear Him.

"Yes..."

Instantly, my countenance brightens, but then I hear more.

"...but you'll have to fight for it."

Author's Note

Damon: Without Him we'd certainly fail, but when we're in step with Him, we'll always come out on top.

Me: For a moment, I thought this ordeal had to be over by now, but then I woke up, and it just won't stop.

Material Girl

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 10: Material Girl

Day ?? - ???, ??:??

Okay, I'm officially bored now.

My cell's at the end of a long hallway. All of the other cells I can see are vacant, and I don't see anyone...anypony else around.

And after cycling through every Phineas and Ferb song I can recall, humming has started getting old.

This is a problem mainly because when I get bored to this degree, my thoughts start to get...weird.

I'm talking 'I wonder what it would be like if Luigi from the Super Mario series was born and grew up as a pony in Equestria and became the Element of Magic instead of Twilight Sparkle' levels of weird.

"He'd probably be called "Lightning Star" to keep the L as his initial and to keep a connection to his homeworld, and he'd definitely be a unicorn. Hmm, but how would the Mushroom Kingdom be different without him? How would growing up without a younger brother to watch over make Mario's life different? Are there ghosts in Equestria? Would he simply replace Twilight, or would he be part of another family?"

"Whoa there, Danny, come on back to reality now."

Of course I recognized Noteworthy's voice, but I still wasn't expecting to hear it while I was awake. I considered how I should respond for a moment before settling on just having a vocal conversation since there's literally nobody around to think I'm crazy for 'talking to myself'.

"Heh, sorry, Noteworthy, I guess the boredom's really getting to me. I tried everything we can think of already, and I can't see any way out of here but for someone to unlock the gate."

Nearby the iron bars of my cell bore the evidence of a futile attempt of mine to brute force my way out of this problem like I had in the dream world. For all my effort, I was rewarded with a pair of sore hind legs, two aching hooves, and a need to get off of them for a while. Thankfully, the pillow that somehow found its way into my mouth when I woke up here easily doubled as a cushion for me to rest on and recover.

Then, for a while, we talked.

It was really the only thing we could do.

I asked about his folks.

"Okay, let me tell you, my family is full of artistic geniuses! My Mom's a dancer for Sapphire Shores, my Dad's in a famous Mareiachi band, Big Bro's an awesome tenor Vocalist and I even have a twin who got a bonus in his genes; he's a Unicorn! He's up in Canterlot studying Music Theory and Bard Spells and whatnot. What do I have?! A single, solitary trophy for a Humming Competition. It isn't even something I can build on because there's no higher levels, and frankly, there wasn't even any real competition for me either! Ugh, I just feel so frustrated sometimes."

He asked about mine.

"Well, if I had to say something I didn't like about my family, it's that Jimmy and Barty fought with eachother a lot when we were kids. Jimmy would try to be a good big brother and enforce the rules set down for us by Mom and Dad while they were out of the house, Barty would push his boundaries and Jim's buttons for not actually being Dad and therefore not having a right to tell him what to do, and I would usually wind up holing myself up in our shared room crying while they were downstairs having at it. We were too old for babysitters by this point, and I'd already reached my wit's end trying to mediate between them. I just wanted them to stop."

And we just kept going from there.

"...and ponies can always tell when somepony's part of my family because we all have the exact same coat, mane and eye colors!"

"...and my Dad's so much of a Preacher in denial that it's hard for me to tolerate, and I'm the one who's spent the last four plus years in the Retail Industry!"

"...and would it kill them to have a conversation at the dinner table that didn't revolve around music for once?!"

"...and I'm always worried that my Mom's one tragedy away from becoming a textbook case Hoarder!"

It was strangely therapeutic.

"...but you should hear it when we all work together on the same project! Pure bliss!"

"...but we've been through so much together, and we've always stayed strong!"

"It's so beautiful!"

"We're inseparable!"

In that moment, we absorbed the facts of our environment once more and came to a simultaneous conclusion.

"I miss them so much!"
"I miss them so much!"

We realized even more than before that we had a common goal. Beyond escaping, we knew that we needed to find our way back to our families. With a new purpose in mind we set about making a plan to keep ourselves safe and sane in the interim.

And then we heard the screaming.

The closest I can come to describing it is that it was like Tom the cat crossed with a banshee and trapped in a room full of malfunctioning household appliances.

It didn't take long for the goons who run this place to notice. A couple of guys dashed down my hallway and out of sight, supposedly to deal with whatever was making that noise.

I heard the faint sounds of a struggle, the muffled din of a rebellious growl, and the unintelligible shouts of two young men and one woman. I strained against the edge of my cell for even an inkling of what was going on out there, and for my efforts I was rewarded with a nearly silent:

-Bang!-

I couldn't hear any voices or other noises after that. They must've taken the action even further down the hall beyond the turn of the corner.

And then we were alone once again.

??:??

It took us a while to recover from the shock of having possibly witnessed one of the other prisoners here being put down.

That's really the only scenario that made sense.

"I really don't like this."

"I'm right there with you, pal."

I eventually migrated from my spot in the corner to leaning my back and neck up against the bars of the cell's front. The section I dented with my earlier efforts was surprisingly slightly less uncomfortable than the rest of it.

"What're we gonna do?"

"Well, there's not a whole lot to be done from in here, like you said before. One thing we can do is figure out how we're going to manage having two minds in one body."

I blink. The thought hadn't really occurred to me. Then I remembered that he was the one who woke up first, and I began to wonder.

"By the way, how does it feel right now for you?"

"With you in control? It's a little awkward. I can see and hear everything you do, but it's a strange detached kind of deal. I'm in a sort of panoramic theater room, and there's only two seats. Everything you see is projected on the screen. I can see where you're focusing just as easily as what's in your peripheral vision. Also, when your ears turn to catch sounds from different directions, in here the sound comes from a series of speakers laid out in the same relative directions."

"That...actually sounds kinda cool."

"Heh, it gets better, if I want to, I can just choose to switch from your sensory input to either of our collective memories, or even access your Imagine Drive."

"My...that's a thing?!"

"Apparently. Seems you spend so much of your time just sitting around thinking about things, your mind has actually developed an imagination so active, it's practically a machine."

"Whoa."

"You're telling me. Still, I can only access it from this theater room off the rainbow road, so all it does is project. There's no interaction. I'm guessing we'd have to be having another one of those lucid dreams to really take control of it, though."

"Well, I guess that's something to look forward to."

Noteworthy went silent for a few seconds after that.

"Hey, Danny, I'm gonna try something. Don't panic."

"Wait, what're you-?!"

I suddenly felt myself flung back by a strange force. Once I uncrumpled myself, I found that I was back in the room for Original Top Ten #9. I looked up just in time to see the titular blue door close itself.

"It worked!"

I was back in control of my body!

I frankly didn't think it would be so simple.

"Hey, Danny, you okay in there?"

I suddenly hear Noteworthy's voice coming from an orange door marked with the image of a double-reel film projector. I quickly head inside.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

It really does feel weird to be talking to him from here, and seeing that big screen showing the same drab grey walls I was looking at before was a bit shiver inducing.

I let out a quick sigh.

"Awesome. I'm glad you're okay. For a moment there, I didn't think it'd work."

"What did you even do anyway?!"

"Okay, do you see the wall where film's being projected?"

"Yeah."

"Jump into it."

I did.

"Whoa."

After a brief flash of white, I found myself back in control, exactly where I was before.

"Oh my gosh, it's just like Super Mario 64!"

"Pretty cool, huh?"

"You got that right!"

I could scarcely believe it. This opened up a whole new avenue for us to work together. However...

"Okay, now that we know we can switch back and forth like this, we need to lay down some ground rules. First: we don't swap in during a conversation. That'll just confuse people."

"Sounds good so far."

"Second: rule one can be overridden if one of us catches something that the other has missed, or is distracted away from, and immediate action is required."

"Let's keep it simple. I don't mess with you, you don't mess with me, we look out for eachother. Deal?"

"Deal."

"That said, remember I'm seeing everything you see, so I will jump in if I think you're not handling something well enough."

"And if you do something that I object to while you're in control, I'll definitely let you know."

"I'll count on it. I'm still learning a lot about...wait, what's that sound?"

-Clippity-Clippity-Clippity-Clippity!-

There's a whole herd of ponies stampeding down the hall!

And up at the front, it's...

"C-Could it really be?"

God...

...thank you.

Leading the charge is none other than Rarity! The Element of Generosity herself! Sure she's wearing a scarf that covers most of her muzzle, one of her eyes looks a bit greenish, and there's a streak of gold in her mane and tail, but I'd recognize my favorite of the Mane 6 anywhere.

She stoped in front of my cell, and I saw that she had a keyring full of numbered keys in her telekinetic grip.

"Hey, big guy. Ready to go?"

"B-Big guy? What're you-?"

"Ohmygosh. Ohmygosh. Ohmygoshshe'slookingrightatme!"

I noticed a redness flush into my muzzle, and I could easily tell it was coming from Noteworthy.

Don't crack on me now, she's here to help us not for you to ogle over.

Then I realize that while I'm admonishing my mental partner, Rarity is still right there waiting for me to respond.

Hastily, I give my head a quick shake to clear my thoughts enough to recall her greeting and put together the best answer I can think of.

"Oh, you mean me. To answer your question: Totally."

One of the biggest reasons why Rarity is my favorite, other than having a killer singing voice, is that everything she does, she does with a certain flair. This was yet another example.

Once she had the key she needed, she plunged it into the keyhole. Then with a bob of her head and a flip of her mane, she turned the key in the lock...

-CLACK!-

...and flung wide the door!

-Whoosh!- -CLANG!-

"Well, darling. Let's not waste any more time and get the hell out of here!"

"Oh, Rarity, I'd follow you anywhere.~"

I smirked.

"You don't have to tell me twice!"

As she levitated the keys off to her side, I get a better look at her magic in action. I'll admit it's a little jarring to see splotches of green mixed in there with her official blue.

Soon she's addressing all present.

"The door to freedom's just down the hall, ponies!"

And with that, we were off! I'm so grateful to have had all that practice back in the dream world, because now I'm able to keep up with Rarity as she leads the throng of sprung prisoners down the hall of empty cells. Soon I'm trotting right alongside her.

"You know," I decide to offer a bit of humor to lighten the mood, "after we get out of here, if I ever see another door again, it'll be too soon!"

"Don't worry, pal!"

I'm suddenly made aware of a brown coated pegasus stallion with a retro jukebox for a cutie mark.

He continues.

"At this rate, I'm sure she'll just bust down anything in our way."

I let out an honest chuckle or two.

So the rumors about how she dealt with those Diamond Dogs are true!

Noteworthy!

You can't just take over like that while we're in the middle of doing something!

"Sorry! I just couldn't help it. At least our movements weren't interrupted.

Either way, if what Noteworthy and this jukebox guy says is true, then Rarity and I might actually have something in common: the tendency to smash our way through our problems!

My jaw: set, my goal: freedom, my chances of success: rising.

"That sounds like my kind of plan!"

Finally, the door's in sight! We're home fr-

"Danny, look at it!"

Look at wha-?

Then I saw it.

The whole herd stopped dead in our tracks.

No. No!

There was no latching mechanism of any kind on our side of the door.

As can be expected, news travels fast. Soon the whole herd was starting to panic. Rarity herself even went so far as to start bucking the large slab of metal out of frustration.

"I didn't!"

-BLAM!-

"Come this far!"

-BLAM!-

"Just to be trapped!"

-BLAM!BLAM!-

"AGAIN!"

-BLAM!!-

Frankly the situation was so disappointing, I couldn't contain my own outburst either.

"Of course! It's deadbolted! Again!"

You've gotta be kidding me! Not now, not now! We need to get out of here ASAP! Maybe if I can just add a bit more force to the problem-

I quickly jumped into the driver's seat. Danny was about to do something reckless again, and I couldn't in good conscience let that happen.

Do you remember the skyscraper, Danny, and the bars?

"Y-Yeah?"

I'm not sure he caught my drift.

I decided to remind him. I called up the memories of when I observed his actions with the dream world's storage closet door and more recently the cell bars just a few hours ago. I then said my piece verbally just to make sure he heard it in there; however, I also made sure to keep my voice low as to not disturb the herd around us.

"We don't want a repeat of that now, do we?"

I look back toward the door and to Rarity. She's pacing, and she just looks so...angry.

She soon eyed a particularly cluttered section of the floor and pulled up a loose metal panel with her levitation.

"Unicorns! Up front! We're getting these P.A.P.A. bastards' attentions and pulling a 300!"

Wha...buh...I don't...

"Profanity? A 300 reference? Rarity, what're you doing?"

Then she pointed her hoof at me.

"Go get me the walkie-talkie from that knocked out guard in the back."

I...I bolted. Without a word, gesture or affirmation of any kind. I just couldn't take it. That mare was so different from the Rarity I thought I knew.

The room with the knocked out guard was easy enough to find, the hallway our cell was in was an offshoot of the one we'd gone down to reach that dead end door. However, my thoughts wandered back to those bizarre changes in both Rarity's demeanor and appearance.

Danny, I...I think I may need you to take over for a while. I've got a lot to think about.

I don't blame you.

Granted, this gives me my own questions about what's going on with Rarity, but the task at hand...er, at hoof is more important right now.

Okay, there's the guard. There's the walkie. Wait, there's some food! Sure it's just some stale-looking bread and a bit of lettuce, but that's already more than I'd wager Noteworthy's had to eat since this whole fiasco started.

Thankfully, I was able to snarf down the lackluster lunch without incident. From there I relieved the guard of his walkie talkie and beat it back toward the herd.

However I couldn't help but dwell on the matter of these changes.

Has she really seen that much of our culture that human profanity and popular memes have become commonplace enough for her to just blurt them out so nonchalantly. No. Rarity prides herself on being a proper lady. There must be something more to it.

I sure wish Noteworthy could help me out a little more with what she was like in Equestria.

Wait.

That's it!

I've only been thinking of her as being Rarity! But the pattern of events suggest that she herself must've also played host to a human partner! That must've been where those references came from.

Hmm. I wonder what kind of person she was paired up with.

Hold on, I'm overlooking the fact that, it doesn't matter with whom she was paired, she'd never have let herself fly off the handle like that if she were in control unless...

It was then that a particularly horrifying notion submitted itself for consideration.

...unless she didn't have a choice.

All too quickly, I've returned to the herd of formerly imprisoned ponies. They've formed up a relatively impressive front line with the unicorns holding up those metal panels for shields. Those who see me make way for me to bring Rarity my prize.

And there she is once again, barking out our supposed exit strategy. I'm still curious about what happened to turn her into this, but escaping is still top priority.

Now's not the time to be asking questions with long answers. I'll be a good Associate and do what I'm told for the time being, but once we're safely away, I'm asking. No question about it.

"Stick close together! No gaps! I'm NOT letting any of you get sh-"

It was at that moment that I entered her field of vision with the spoils of my mission.

"Oh, why thank you, darling."

I put on my best "Customer Satisfaction" face and nod in turn.

"No prob."

After but a moment's hesitation, I fall in amongst the rest of the herd.

With the comm device grasped in her magic, as well as her own makeshift shield, she takes her place as well. Front row, center: exactly the way she does everything else.

"You all ready? Shit's about to hit the fan!"

I give the door behind us one final look before preparing myself for what's to come.

Rarity flicked on the walkie.

-Click!- -Bzzzzz.-

Silence.

Then she speaks.

"Hey, Gibby."

I didn't know who she's talking to, but he apparently knew her.

"Oh shit..."

"Would you be a dear and send someone down for room service? My friends and I are rather hungry."

After a few seconds of random bustle from the walkie, the line fell dead.

What are you now, Rarity? Are you still yourself?

She casts us all one final glance.

"We're about to have company, dearies. Let's show them what we've got!"

Even with all of the impending chaos of our escape attempt, a grin found its way upon my face.

I'm still missing a few pieces, but I'm determined to solve this puzzle.

I have to admit it. Danny's mind, for how completely confusing it can be at times, is surprisingly well organized. The room where we sang, for instance, is very neatly sorted. Doors to my memories are on the left, and his are on the right. All I have to do is touch one of the reels stored behind these doors and the respective memory clip or log becomes available in the Theater Room.

I'd just finished reminding myself of what Rarity is supposed to be like by exploring a few of my memories of home when I noticed some odd light coming from underneath a door on Danny's side.

"Up 'till now, they'd all been closets with film reels in them. I wonder what's in there."

The door was pretty mundane; wood construction, brass knob, minimal flourishes. However, the plate for the label was a plain five-pointed star. It was brass, like the knob, and there were two embossed symbols on it that, I can only guess, Danny would've been able to read.

One of them is a strange sort of hashed mark, and the other almost looks like a stylized version of the blue symbol on the door at the end of this room, but upside-down.

Wait a minute...

These actually look like odd distorted versions of numerals from the Equestrian Numbering System. If I stand back a bit and squint a little, I could almost mistake them for a six and a four.

'64'?

Danny mentioned that number before. I wonder why it's so significant as to have it's own door in here.

I tried the knob.

"Well, it's not locked. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I...poked around a bit.

I push it open...

...and suddenly, I'm up in the sky!

For a moment I was suspended by only two of my legs. My left foreleg was still resting on the doorknob, and I hadn't yet lifted my right hindleg off the floor in my cantering. This left my other two limbs to flail in midair while I recovered from the shock of it all!

I probably would've been able to pull myself back into the hall if the door didn't just up and disappear a moment later!

The colors blurred together around me as I hollered my lungs out. I wasn't exactly paying attention to how long I was falling, but I was eventually interrupted.

-SPLOPP!-

Thankfully, I wasn't injured in the fall. I was covered in mud now, though; that was new.

I shook enough of it off my face to see that I'd ended up in some sort of wide, smelly, silty pit. The edges were too high up for me to see over, but I did spot a passage out of that basin that was closer to being in reach.

It took a few minutes of trudging uphill through wet earth, but I eventually made it up to the edge of what looked like a wide, empty channel lined with cobblestone.

"Hi, Noteworthy! Do you want some help there?"

From behind a corner of the cliff face stepped a weird looking raccoon. He was walking like a human, and he was wearing a pair of bright blue overalls over a white tee shirt. There was a pair of white and blue checkered shoes on his hindpaws, and a headband with the same pattern sat around a large tuft of brown fur atop his head.

"Who're you?" was all I could think to ask.

He smiled, and with a little bow, spoke with the voice of a young colt.

"Little David at your service!"

The name meant nothing to me, and he didn't elaborate further. I wasn't quite sure I could trust this new face, no matter how kind he looked. I was in uncharted territory here. Still, he was on a stable surface while I wasn't.

He reached out his hand. That same simple smile never left his face.

Well, any port in a storm.

I reached out my hoof, and he grabbed it.

After a short moment of effort, we'd finally cleared the lip of the pit. I immediately set myself to shaking all the offensive muck from my coat.

'Little David' didn't seem too concerned about being caught in the indiscriminate salvo. He just shook his head around a little bit to toss off most of the mud that had splattered there.

"Thanks for the help."

"No prob, Noteworthy. I was glad to!"

I got to my hooves and studied this fellow. This 'Little David'. I wasn't about to let go of all of my paranoia about being in this place, but at least he hasn't given me a reason to distrust him just yet.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

"What are you?"

"Well, I'm a raccoon, for starters, but that's probably obvious. More than that, though, I'm a Figment of Danny's Imagination."

He took my stunned silence as a cue to continue.

"There's a lot of us around, and some stick around longer than others, but a few, like me, are chosen to represent some basic mental concepts of his. For example, I represent Danny's Innocence."

Does he mean it like something similar to the Princesses and those 'Elements of Harmony' ponies?

I couldn't help but find myself a little bit skeptical.

"Really?"

"That's right!"

It was a little hard for me to swallow at first, but then I remembered where I was. This was Danny's mind, not mine. There was no telling what made him tick.

"Okay. So, Little David, can you tell me what this place is?"

"Absolutely! This is a memory of the environment of one of Danny's fondest childhood video games. At least, that's what it started out as."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! Now it's home to a lot of us Figments! If fact, he's given this place, and us in turn, so much Thought, that most of what's in here is tied directly to his Core Personality!"

That was a bit of a shocker. I knew he spent a little too much time in his thoughts, sure, but this?

Wait a minute. Part of that sentence didn't sound right.

"You just said that like you thought 'thought' was something tangible."

"Well, for us Figments, and for Memory Environments like this, it is! It's what we Figments live on, and what allows places like this to exist and to hold their shape. Everything you see here is practically made of the stuff!"

"Everything?!"

"Everything but you!"

"Huh?"

"All that you see around you both came from Danny's mind, and is a part of it. In his Imagination, his Thoughts are made real, far more real than he ever hopes he could make them in reality. You? You're your own person! You came from the Outside! You're not a part of Danny at all!"

He said that without even the slightest hint of condescension or derision or even the vaguest outline of a threat. It was like he was just reciting back to his parents something happy he'd learned in school that day. It was...reassuring, welcoming even.

His words took root in my head, and out of curiosity, I turned back around and gazed out at the rancid, mucky pit I just climbed out of.

If everything here is a part of Danny...

"Then what's that supposed to be?"

For the first time since I'd met this kid, he frowned.

"A sad state of affairs, I'm afraid. That is what's left of a part of Danny that he's been ignoring for more than a decade. Thankfully, the ground here is still soggy, otherwise I'm afraid it'd be hopeless to restore it."

"Soggy?"

Wait, does that mean this used to be a lake?

"This whole area used to be submerged, then? All the way up to the edge of that pit?"

"Yeah! Had lots of fish in it, too!"

So I was right. What part of him could this have possibly been?!

"In fact, you might be able to help us fix it!"

"What? How?"

"Follow me!"

I was dumbfounded.

Fix something wrong with Danny's very personality? Could I really do that? Did I even have a right to do that?

Before I could dwell further on the subject, Little David had already run up to a heavy metal door in the stone wall opposite the pit from the two of us and was opening it. Not wanting to be left behind in unfamiliar territory, I hurried to catch up to him.

The floor in this new room was made of the same material as the floor of the channel outside, except for two sets of squarish seams. I didn't really have the time to get the layout of the room in my head before that raccoon dashed off again.

"C'mon! I need to introduce you to the others!"

I trotted down a slope in the hallway and back up and out the other side just in time to see that little scamp at the top of a blocky-looking staircase.

"Up past here is one of my favorite parts!"

There was another door there, why couldn't he have chosen that one?!

It was a bit of a pain to clamber up after him, but I managed. And for my efforts...

"W-Whoa!"

...I was rewarded with a little slide over porcelain-tiled flooring.

"Wasn't that fun! Hurry up now, this way!"

Okay, so the kid loves a slide. Fitting enough, I guess.

I look to my right and notice another pair of doors this kid seemed intent on avoiding. He disappeared a moment later down a winding corridor ahead of me. With a hop over the railing before me, I renewed the chase.

The Corridor is made of dark brick, and gives off the feel of a dank basement without actually having the smell to go along with it. And of course, there were torches placed along the walls to finish the look.

If it weren't for the tile flooring, I'd almost say this place looks like it came straight out of a Daring Do book.

After a long curve to the right, I catch sight of his bushy little striped tail vanishing through yet another door.

Just where is this child taking me?!

For a moment I contemplated not opening the door for myself. I thought I'd just wander around and explore this place at my own pace, but my curiosity got the better of me, and with a sigh, I ventured after the rambunctious raccoon child once again.

The ceilings were lower here, and the hallways were much narrower. Nevertheless, they were still adequately lit by the torches on the walls. I found myself at a junction, a split in the passageways, but all too quickly my choice was made for me once again.

"Hey, Noteworthy! Check it out! The Basement has a Slip-'N-Slide!"

Off to my right, I saw Little David dash down another turn in the hallway. I followed...

"Wheeeee!!"

...and was greeted with the sight of that childish figment sliding along the floor on his stomach, splashing water all over the walls.

Wait a minute, water?!

Why the hay is there water in here but not out there?!

"Hey guys! Noteworthy's here!"

My attention was drawn further down the hall where I saw Little David, dripping wet, shouting off another way to my left.

As I got closer, I heard shallow, splashy footsteps that didn't match up with my own.

I stopped.

They kept coming.

Then they came into view.

Wait a minute. That's him!

I remembered from when Danny was letting his imagination run away with him, that there was the image of an oddly proportioned human wearing blue denim overalls, brown shoes, white gloves, and a shirt and hat that were both a distinctive green.

More than anything else, though, the mustache gave him away.

That's that Luigi person!

He was seated on what looked like the shell of a large, mostly upright, bulbous-muzzled, white-bellied green salamander. I might have thought it was a dragon, but it didn't appear to have any of the claws, fangs or wings associated with one. It was also wearing shoes.

Then it turned and looked at me.

I froze.

What is that thing?!

I didn't have much time to wonder, as 'Luigi' gestured for me to come closer.

"Hey! You must-a be Noteworthy, huh? Nice ta' meet'cha!"

I nodded and continued to edge my way closer to the trio, who were standing on a dry platform in front of a monstrously large painting of a blazing orange fireball bearing a sinister face.

"Uh-huh." was all I could reply.

"I'm-a Luigi. This is-a Yoshisaur, my Player 2."

"Actually, my full name is Yoshisaur T. Munchakoopas, but you can call me 'Yoshi' for short."

It spoke!

I didn't know whether to be relieved because it was intelligent or even more worried.

"And together we're-a the Figment Representatives of Danny's Concept of Competition!"

Wait, two of them for one concept?

Little David had been standing off to the side, shaking the water out of his fur and clothes. After Luigi and "Yoshi" had finished introducing themselves, he piped up as well.

"You see, Noteworthy, Danny doesn't think about each concept in the same way as all the others! Some big concepts can be broken down into smaller ideas, each one part of a larger whole and deserving of its own Representative! Luigi represents the more playful side of competition, while Yoshi represents the more serious side."

"So, Noteworthy, what brings you along?"

"Noteworthy's gonna help us fix the moat and the lake!"

Hey, I never agreed to that!

Luigi cast me a sidelong glance as he quirked an eyebrow.

"Is that-a right? You really think he can do it-a, Little David?"

"Well, sure. Why not? He's not like us figments; he's his own whole person and everything!"

Yoshi looked to be deep in thought for a moment.

"Hmm...you know, that just might work. Luigi, what do you say?"

Luigi's eyes went glazed over for a second; then he turned and looked at that painting behind the trio.

I'm not sure I like that look he's got in his eyes...

"There's only one-a way to know for sure if he's even gonna be able to do it."

Yoshi then followed his earlier gaze, and his face lit up with understanding.

"You're right! And since we're right here already..."

Then Little David seemed to catch on to what the two joint figments were suggesting. His head shot from the painting, to me, and back to Luigi and Yoshi while shock doused all of his previous vigor.

"But, guys, he hasn't had any practice! We can't just start in the middle!"

"C'mon-a, Little David! We're already right-a here!"

"Yeah! Besides, this one's got the easiest mission of them all. It's perfect!"

Then they all turned to me again.

"Hey, Noteworthy. C'mere for a sec'!"

Nope! I don't want any, thank you!

I tried to turn and gallop my way out of there, but the water around my hooves slowed my reaction time and killed my traction. I wound up just tripping over my own hooves and falling on my face! The rest of me fell into a heap shortly afterward.

Then Yoshi...opened his mouth and...By Celestia's Mane, that tongue! It lashed out like a whip and stuck fast to the arch of my back!

-Splip!-

He's a predator! I knew it!

Then he retracted it like a grappling hook, pulling me back with it!

"AAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

"Don't-a worry, Noteworthy! We've-a done this millions of times!"

After falling backwards for what felt like an eternity, I was plunged into darkness. The walls of flesh stretched taut around me, keeping me in as the viper of a tongue finally let go.

Then I felt him moving around. A turn followed by a jump.

"Try to stay calm, Noteworthy! It'll be just fine!" came Little David's muffled attempt at reassurance.

A memory from home suddenly forced its way to the forefront of my mind. It was of one of the times my Mom took us all out to her favorite fancy Itailian restaurant up in Canterlot.

I groaned.

Now I know how a Wheatball feels.

Day 08 - Sunday, 8:00 P.M.

We've been on the road for a couple of hours now.

Jenny was up in the cab area of the RV. She was handling the driving, and she had Jack with her to navigate. They seemed like the most sensible choices to handle the first leg of our trip. She had the most experience with driving something the size of a bus, as it had been her occupation for several years both up in Michigan and after we moved down to Texas. There was also the fact that Jack was now well and truly nocturnal, so he'd be helping out both my wife and whomever relieved her when we made our first stop for the night.

That being Texarkana.

A funny place, Texarkana. It's one of the only cities that sit on both sides of a border between two states in the U.S., that being Texas and Arkansas. We learned about that on our moving trip down here nine years ago. We'd bought a room for the night at a Best Western in Texarkana while we were passing through, but when we got there, they told us that they didn't have our reservation. We double-checked and triple-checked our information, but they still persisted that they had no such accommodations under our names.

They were understanding, and they gave us a fair discount on a room for that night, as short notice as it was, but we still lost our reservation. We only discovered why the next day. We'd stopped at the Best Western in Texarkana, Arkansas, but our reservation was for the Best Western in Texarkana, Texas. We even drove past it on our way through town afterwards.
I admit, I felt a little sheepish for not making that observation beforehand.

Or "beforehoof" as it were.

This time, it's our only lead to the location of those goons who took my Son and simultaneously the first stop on our trip to New York.

About an hour ago, Barty took the opportunity of having both James and I as a figuratively captive audience to boot up his laptop computer, access the mobile wi-fi that Rick and Ellie supplied us with, and show us another pair of episodes form the pony show.

They revolved around a character named Discord.

What caught my attention first was the very last bit of the teaser open to the first episode.

That laugh.

I knew that laugh from somewhere.

I would discover later on that it was none other than the infamous John de Lancie himself who provided the voice for Discord. I was shocked.

I grew up with Star Trek.

I grew up with Q.

That man's work was an enormous part of my young life.

And now he's in this show, too.

And if he's anything like Q...

...those ponies are gonna need all the help they can get.

And he was.

And they did.

And it wasn't enough.

They even lost everything for a moment (again, it was simply uncanny how involved I was getting in this show made for little girls).

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Twilight broke out of her brainwashing, make quick work of giving her friends what amounted to the same treatment, except for Rainbow. She had to chase the pegasus down and tie her up just to get a shot in. Then they confronted and re-petrified Discord, and after which were given a largely familiar looking congratulatory ceremony.

I mean it almost looked like they lifted it straight from Star Wars.

Nah...

Anyway, after that two-parter was done, Barty told us that Discord was the prime suspect for the pony proliferation here on Earth as well as the whole calendar kerfuffle.

I couldn't help but agree.

8:17 P.M.

I just don't get it.

How can he be dealing with all of this so easily?

I'm buckled up next to Mrs. Michaels in the cab of the RV, taking my frustrations out on a particularly vindictive Rand McNally roadmap.

Darn thing's impossible to unfold with hooves.

In an attempt to get my mind off of things, I decide to voice an almost unrelated curiosity of mine.

"Hey, Mrs. Michaels, why aren't we using a GPS?"

She smiles, never taking her eyes off the road.

"Well for one, I don't trust them. Danny and I used one on a trip to visit our old friends in Michigan once, about a year ago or so. About halfway through our second day of travel, it started recalculating our route on the fly. Instead of the hotel for which we'd entered the address for our destination, the darn thing led us to a trailer park in the middle of nowhere!"

They must've been hacked, no wonder.

"Fortunately, I remembered the correct roads well enough from previous trips to know which highway we needed to take, and Danny's sense of direction kept us from faltering on our way down the right roads and eventually to our reserved hotel. In all honesty, we really made quite the team."

Uh oh, she's got that wistful look in her eyes again.

Thankfully, she regained her focus just as quickly.

"And that also leads into my other reason: I know the route already. Our family, or at least chunks of it, have made this trip a number of times over the last several years. It helps to keep us close to our roots. We may live among the Longhorns now, but we'll always be Michiganders at heart."

Okay, wait a minute.

"Then why am I up here if you don't need me to navigate?"

She spares me a momentary glance.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Isn't what obvious?"

"You're our freshest set of eyes, Jack."

She takes my uncomprehending silence as an urge to continue.

"With the exception of Damon, everyone else here hasn't slept since Saturday morning, me included. So, while I may be most qualified to run this part of the route, and indeed I am, I'm also running on no sleep for more than 24 hours. I need someone to talk to who won't fall asleep on me, and so will the next driver once we reach Texarkana."

"Well, that does make a fair amount of sense. The only two of us who've slept since yesterday are no longer capable of driving."

Wait a minute!

"Hold on, Danny took a nap on his lunch break last night, and turned into a pony; your husband fell asleep while watching My Little Pony and awoke as a one this morning; and then I crash on y'all's guest bed and wake up like this! Is this gonna happen every time one of us falls asleep?"

There was silence for just a few seconds.

"Well thank you, Jack. I really needed more reasons to not let myself get tired."

Oops.

Newtopic!Newtopic!Newtopic!

I sigh.

I guess it's as good as any, right?

"So, I've been meaning to ask something."

"Oh?"

Pleasedon'tbackfire!Pleasedon'tbackfire!

"How does he do it? How does your husband do it?! When I talked to him on the phone last night, he was human! I come over just a few hours later, and he's a pony! And he looks absolutely okay with it! How does he do it?!"

She took some time to think before responding.

"Hmm. While I can't say I know what's going on inside his head apart from what he's shared with us, I can say that Peace is one of the Fruits of the Spirit."

Oh, don't even start with me!

"Come on. Don't give me that. Religions are all about Psychology. Be convincing enough, and you can make anybody believe anything. Give me something real! Anything!"

She sighed.

"Jack, being a Believer isn't about religion at all. It's about cultivating a relationship with God, and outside of this being a matter of God's intervention, I don't understand it either. I love that man with all my heart, but he's not a man anymore. That's a fact I have to face. I can tell he's still himself under that fur coat, but I'd be blind if I didn't notice how his actions seem to be influenced by something else as well. Does he just have lots of energy now, or is there something more to it? I just don't know."

There was silence for a while.

I don't really know how to respond to that. Dangit.

For a while I just stared out the passenger side window, watching the signs go by.

Then I saw it.

TEXARKANAKRAXET
City Limits

"Wh-What?!"

"Jack, did you see that?!"

Okay, so I wasn't just seeing things. I'm not sure if that makes this better or worse.

"Uh-huh."

I turn my attention back to the Rand McNally menace, and, using my teeth as well as my hooves, I eventually succeed at prying it open.

There it is again.

Right on the line between Texas and Arkansas is a dot that the legend says marks a city's location, and next to that dot it says in text as plain as day:

Texarkanakraxet

"It's right here on the map, too!"

"Jack, the GPS."

After a bit of fumbling, I manage to turn the system on. After it finished booting up, it showed the sattelite record of our position along with the final nail in the coffin:

Now entering Texarkanakraxet.

"What in the-WHOA!"

I was flung into my seatbelt at the force of the brake, and after taking a moment to recover, I discovered the cause behind it.

Traffic was at a complete standstill.

Mrs. Michaels however, was not.

"This doesn't make any sense! The freeway's supposed to just cut right through the middle of the city. What could possibly cause a jam this bad?!"

Alongside the road that was quickly becoming a parking lot, I spotted a police officer headed our way. In the time it took for him to reach Mrs. Michaels's window, the rest of our party had joined us in the cab.

She quickly rolled down her window.

"Yes! Hello, Officer? Why is everyone stopped?"

He took off his sunglasses and gave us a look that heralded the bad tidings to come.

"I'm very sorry, folks. Truly, I am, but you're not gonna be able to go anywhere now, either. I'm afraid there's not going to be any traffic through here for the foreseeable future. Would you all kindly step out of the vehicle? It'd be best if you saw it for yourselves."

She put it in park, and we all filed out of the RV.

The officer directed our attention to the city proper, and we all gasped at what we saw.

The city had been completely bisected by a giant mirror that ran perpendicular to the freeway, cutting us off.

The pony Mr. Michaels had become voiced what we were all thinking.

"Well, there's your problem."

Thank you, Adam Savage.

Day ?? - ???, ??:??

Connections are everything.

I can't help but admit this fact as I recline in my office chair.

They've helped me get to where I am, and they'll continue to serve me well into the future.

On my desktop computer's monitor, I peruse the police report for a recent kidnapping case and all photos and files related to its investigation, courtesy of my connection in the Santa Fe Police Department. To my right is a picture frame showing Timmy, Rick and I on our trip to Louisiana back in '98 as well as a Rolodex of my phone contacts, turned to the G section. To my right is my trusty touch-tone phone. Any minute now, it should be...

-RING!-

Ah, here we go.

-Click!-

"Yes?"

"Oh, I know about that already."

"Of course I'll handle it. She gave me a call, too."

"You don't need to tell me how important this is. Just make sure to delegate better next time."

"Nobody will tie it back to you, I promise."

"Alright. Stay sharp now."

-Click!-

Well, that takes care of that.

I turn the Rolodex back and open up the R section.

-Click!-

-beepbopboop-boopbapbap-bopboopbopbap-

Pick up, will you?

"Hey, Ricky! You and Ellie back in town, yet?"

"Oh, is that so?"

"That is so kind of you two to do that."

"Oh, you did, did you?"

"Well I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

"That's true, bugs can put a damper on any road trip. Do you have its model #?"

"How about the Serial #?"

"Well! You certainly are prepared."

"Alright , I've got it down. Don't worry about it, Rick, if I find anything I think you ought to know, I'll call you."

"Okay then, I'll talk to y'all later."

-Click!-
Oh, Rick, for all your strengths, you can be so naive.

I turn back to my computer, and run the numbers through a program I got from the boys up at College Of the Mainland.

And there you are!

I flip my Rolodex back around to the K section.

This is just a reminder for which speed dial number I have them under, though.

-Click!-

"Listen, I don't have time to chat. I am a very busy man after all."

"That's correct. I'll e-mail you the location."

"They cannot continue on their trip. Do what you must."

"Yes, the full getup. Keep your identities hidden, but let them know who they're up against."

"You'll get it. The lady up top is feeling generous today. We clean this up; we all get paid."

"See that you do. Goodbye."

-Click!-

I recline back into my leather upholstered office chair and smile.

Connections are everything!

Author's Note

Me: I don't think Noteworthy would've minded moving to a deserted island if he knew Rarity would be there. He's got it bad.

???: Honestly, those two ladies can be such divas sometimes.

La La

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 11: La La

Day 08 - Sunday, ??:??

"Oh, I can hardly wait to see you, my friends!"

"Grrmmm...ponies are the enemy of society..."

Sigh...

How did I get roped into this?

The Free Masons and Shriners are supposed to be organizations dedicated to fostering brotherhood and community, about coming together to help our fellow members when they're in a bind and staying true to eachother. But this...?

Our chapter really hasn't been the same since our last Master Mason, Mr. Timothy Johnson, passed away. He was a legend.

His successor to the Master Mason title, Wilbur Denton? Not so much.

Don't get me wrong, the two of them seemed like they were good friends, but after the funeral...it was almost like a switch flipped in Wilbur.

It wasn't long before he was requiring all Free Masons to join his...other group.

That's why I got out.

I got as far away from Santa Fe as I could bear. I couldn't bring myself to leave Texas, though. I was born here, raised here. That's why I settled for Texarkana. I kept telling myself I could just cross the border anytime I chose, but I kept putting it off.

Then the Pony Earth Incident began.

At least that's what the news came to call it.

For about a week or so, nothing changed. I did start seeing a few more of my neighbors become ponies each day, but there wasn't anyone connected to me who changed, so my daily routine, by and large, stayed the same.

That is, until Saturday night rolled around.

That's when the call came in.

An old Mason friend of mine from the time before Wilbur took over had phoned me at close to 7 p.m., informed me that a van was making a stop in town, told me to offer shelter and aid to those in it and reminded me of my retained status. She was calling on me not for a favor as a friend but for my duty as a fellow Mason.

I tried to object, but she said they were already on their way. She said that a new friend of hers would be calling in periodically to check their status, and that if I wasn't being the most helpful I could be...well, she left the consequences up to my imagination.

And, Heaven help me, I agreed.

They came up to my hotel room not long after that with more than a dozen suitcases and other assorted pieces of luggage.

Among them was a large kennel.

The cage door was covered with a blinder, but I could vaguely see the outline of something moving in there.

While I was eying the animal in the kennel, one of the guys raided my hotel fridge and pulled out the remains of a three-day-old bag of salad mix and half a cucumber. Then he came back over and jostled up the kennel a bit before opening both the blinder and the cage door, tossing the vegetables in and locking it right back up.

For the briefest of moments, I caught a glimpse of exactly what it was that they were transporting.

It was a small, blue pony with a darker blue mane and yellow eyes.

I was immediately reminded of all the people I'd seen around town who were humans one day and ponies the next.

I made the connection...and almost vomited right there.

"Hey! Don't go gettin' any bright ideas, bub! When we leave, we're takin' that thing with us."

I looked up at him, nearly sick, and took in the sight of him. Though, through my bleary eyes, I couldn't make out the details of his face.

I did, however, see his shirt.

Black.

Red letters on the chest.

P.A.P.A.

They only stayed the one night, and come Sunday morning, they were gone.

Well, most of them.

They were two guys, a thin, lanky, kinda homely looking one named Greg, and a much larger, much tougher one Greg identified as Chet. They stayed, along with the bulk of the suitcases.

Way too many for just two guys.

It was then that I finally made the decision. I was going to flee the state to get away from them while they slept in. I was making a good pace, and I was almost across the border into the other half of Texarkana, when a giant mirror just plopped right down in the center of town from out of nowhere!

There wasn't any time to react, and my Ford Contour slammed right into it!

Fortunately enough for me, I was wearing my seatbelt, and the airbag deployed. Unfortunately, I blacked out shortly afterward.

When I finally came to, it was already evening. I was back in my hotel room and there were ol' Greg and Chet again. They were on the phone with their boss, but that didn't last long. They turned to me when they were done, and Greg had this sickening smile on his face.

"There, there, my friend, you really worried us with that little stunt you pulled. You're really quite lucky that you weren't injured in that crash! Otherwise you wouldn't be able to help us with our luggage."

He gestured to the myriad of suitcases in the living area.

Oh, no. They're not seriously going to make me...

"Oh, and I'm so sorry, my friend, but it seems Chet and I accidentally ruined your key card getting you back into your room. I'm afraid you won't be able to access the elevators without it. Such a shame, really. Oh, well. I guess you'll just have to make do with the stairs!"

They are.

Then Chet just grabbed me by the arm and yanked me out of the bed, stood me up on my feet and pointed to the bags.

"Move."

So here I am with Greg and Chet, an eternity later, on the roof of the hotel, unloading the contents of those suitcases.

Greg pulled out an odd device and gave it to me.

"Now, my friend, this is the GPS tracker we'll be using to corner our quarry. Do be a good lad and get it up and running while we get our little money-maker put together."

I really shouldn't have asked. I really, truly shouldn't have asked, but I did anyway.

"Um...what do you mean by "money-maker"?"

Chet didn't even turn away from his work as the pieces he was pulling out of the suitcases were starting to look like some kind of mounting structure.

"This thing cleans up, we all get paid."

Day 08 - Sunday, 9:16 P.M.

"You see, we are Apple Pie!"

"Ugh, can we please watch something else?"

I rolled my eyes at Jack's comment.

"Well, yeah, we can. But we're not just watching it for entertainment, you know. Besides, it's my laptop. I can easily just decide not to use it at all. Y'all are the ones behind, not me."

"I think Jack's got a point, though, Barty. There's definitely other things we could be spending our time on."

Mom yawned.

Everyone else froze.

We all knew what falling asleep meant now, and while she, James and I have all been up for about the same amount of time, the two of us brothers were far more accustomed to it.

Of course Mom also picked up on all our worrying.

"D-Damon, Honey, I'm..."

Then he just launched himself up into her arms!

"Shhh...Jennifer, it's okay. I'm right here."

She hugged him close.

"But what if you don't recognize me after this? I d-don't think I could..."

He put his forelegs around her shoulders and rubbed her back as he returned her hug.

"You know I'll always come back to you. Remember everything God's brought us through? Remember this?"

Of course!

He pointed to the thin chained, golden charm necklace she was wearing. On it were two gold charms in the shape of hearts, one was carved with their initials: DM and JJ, and the other was a frame with a cross in the middle.

"Remember when we lost it all those years ago? Remember all the time we spent looking for it all those times we moved?"

He pulled himself up to face her.

"Remember how God restored it to us..."

Mom nodded and finished his sentence.

"...through time and space. Y-Yes."

"He has a plan for us; to prosper us and not to harm us. Even now in these uncertain times, His Hand is still working to our benefit. If we put our trust not in ourselves or even in eachother, but in Him, then even if you do change, it won't matter because He never will."

And as long as she's wearing that charm necklace, we'll definitely be able to recognize her! It's perfect!

Mom finally started to smile again.

"And besides, no matter what you look like, you'll always be my Tiger Lily."

Aaand then came the tears.

"A-And you'll always b-be my Honey Bear!"

Not a dry eye in the room, I tell ya'.

Once they'd cried and hugged themselves out, Dad pulled away.

"Now, -sniffle- I think some prayer is in order."

I, for one, agree.

We all gathered around Mom and laid our hands on her; yes, even Jack, though I don't think he really had any idea what he was doing.

"Father, we come to You in a time of uncertainty. Only You know what lies ahead, and within Your Path, there can be no doubt. We come into Your Presence boldly, knowing that You reward those who diligently seek You."

"Yes, Father." Mom cried.

"Father, we lift up Jenniffer in our prayers tonight. Keep Your Daughter safe this night, while she sleeps, Father. Let nothing come to harm her, and if she may indeed become a part of these changes people are going through, Father, let it be for Your Purpose, and may she use that circumstance to follow Your Will, just as she would were it not to be."

"Lead her as You lead us all, Father." James added.

"Once again, Father, we pray for our continued safety as well as Daniel's, wherever he may be, and in whatever situation he may find himself. Guide him, Father. Guide him back to us."

"And let him find allies, friends even, that he can trust and that will help him in any way he may need." I put in as well.

"Yes, Father, and let him be of help to those he finds as well. Help him to grow as a man and to grow in You."

Dad paused.

Jack, likely feeling the need to contribute something as well, voiced his own request.

"Uh...if you're really out there, Danny needs help. I don't know what you can do, or even who you are, but if you can help him, then do it."

Well! I'm impressed! I didn't think he had it in-

"And get him a girlfriend while You're at it."

Oh geez!

We all cracked up at that, and Mom even let out a joyful, "Halleluiah!"

"Yes, Father! All this and more! Every blessing You have for us, we pray, let them loose! Even what we dare not ask in our wildest dreams, if it is within Your Will, then let Your Will be done!"

"In Your Holy Name we pray. Amen."

And with that, we all let out our remaining emotional tension with a big family group hug. Mom even pulled Jack into it.

Though I imagine it wasn't that hard, given how small he is now and how soft his fur must be.

After that, we all said 'Good night' to Mom, turned out the lights inside the RV, and ventured out into the city.

9:25 P.M.

That was...different.

I'm not sure how else to describe it.

I really wasn't expecting anything. I just felt like I needed to say something back there. Like there was a void that needed to be filled, if only just so there wouldn't be silence.

Then I just blurted that last part out like I was talking to a real person!

Why did I do that?

Everyone else seemed to like what I had to say, at least. That's something.

Meh.

Anyways, on to more important things.

The four of us had been walking up the side of the freeway for a few minutes, passing the time with some idle chat and groaning at more of Mr. Michaels's terrible puns.

By the time we'd gotten more-or-less into the actual vicinity of the city, I'd had just about enough of-

-zeee-

Wha!?

-eeee-

Okay, I take it back! The puns were nowhere near as bad as this!

It was this low buzzing sound. No matter what I did, it wouldn't go away! I tried to drone it out, it stayed there; I tried just stopping everything else, it stayed there; I tried to cover up my ears, it got louder!

And on top of all of that, ever since I started hearing it, my new wings started acting up. Twitching, flexing, itching, it was just so aggravating!

-eeee-

It just kept boring into my brain! It was demanding my attention. It refused to be ignored, and all my efforts to either deal with it or block it out only made it worse!

-eeee-

"AAAUUUGH!!"

I heard the others shouting something at me, but I'm just too distracted by this painful buzzing to figure out what they're saying.

-eeee-

Alright! THAT'S IT! Where's it coming from?!

Something in my mind clicked, and I could almost see the buzzing in the air!

<ZZZZ>

-EEEE-

My teeth ground together, and I could feel every muscle in my body tense up.

Okay, whatever you are, I don't care what I have to do, I'm finding out what's causing this noise and putting a stop to it!

??:??

"HRRRRK! There. I'm done."

"Excellent work, my friend! Now, let's fire it up!"

"Hey! You!"

I gulped as Chet turned away from his work on what now looked like a pivot-able, base-mounted rocket launcher.

"M-Me?"

"Yeah, you! That tracker working yet!?"

"Yes, absolutely!" Greg chimed in from his position hunched over the controls to the weapon's systems, "We need the position from that handy GPS tracker to adjust for our money-maker's bearing and pitch, my friend! So please, do read off those coordinates for us!"

The device rattles in my unsteady hands. My voice catches in my throat.

Oh, please! Somebody, anybody! I don't want to do this! Help me!

9:34 P.M.

-KRA-POW!-

"JACK!"

Without so much as a word, he just...launched himself off of the sidewalk and into the air!

Then, of all the things that could happen, Barty started running off after him!

"Wait! Barty!"

He didn't stop or even slow down! He just called back to us as he ran.

"Don't worry! I've still got my phone on me! Try to find out what's going on with that mirror! Call me if you find out anything! See ya'!"

I don't believe this!

"Barty!!"

Suddenly, I felt Dad's hoof on my leg.

"James, don't bother chasing him! Think about what you're doing! I need you here! You're my only way of keeping in contact with anyone!"

I...

"You're right. I...we need to focus on what we're doing here."

"That, and Barty's in much better shape than you. You wouldn't have stood a chance."

"DAD!"

"What?! It's the truth! If you wanna do something about it, start by losing some weight!"

"Not what I meant, Dad!"

"I'll even help you! C'mon! Last one to the mirror's a smelly hunk of Limburgher!"

He...he just started running! After what he just said...

I don't have much choice but to chase after him, I'm the one with the phone after all.

Doesn't mean I have to like it.

"Daaaaad!"

??:??

I made up my mind.

I'm not going to let these two thugs get what they're after.

I hid the GPS tracker behind me and slowly backed away from them, shaking my head.

Greg sighed at that, then he got up and...Good Lord! That's not how a smile's supposed to look!

"My friend, don't you think you're a little too deep into this to be trying to back out now?"

Chet cracked his knuckles.

Oh, God...

Oh, God!

Oh, please, God, I know we haven't really been on speaking terms lately, but I promise to come clean about this whole thing to the authorities if you please just help me!

Then Chet started walking towards me as Greg just stood there and watched.

I shut my eyes in anticipation of the worst.

-wheeen!-

"Hey. What's that sound?"

My eyelids flew back open to reveal to me that Chet had stopped and was looking somewhere off to my right.

-wheeen!-

I followed his gaze, and at first I saw nothing. Then, I noticed a tiny speck of color moving against the night sky.

Greg's expression quickly dropped from smug and victorious, to confused and fearful.

"What...in the world...?"

Then we heard it's terrible yell!

"YAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

By the time I could make out the creature's eyes...and its teeth, it was too late.

"YAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"

"AAAAAHHH!!"

It plowed right into me!

In my fear, I lost my grip on the GPS tracker, and it was sent flying into the air as well.

But that didn't matter to me.

I was busy screaming my lungs out!

I flailed around on the rooftop trying desperately to get that tracker back!

"NOOO! My paycheck!"

Eventually, it plopped right into my waiting clutches!

"Whew! That was close!

However, I wasn't quite paying as much attention to my surroundings as I should have.

"Whuh?!"

In my haste, I'd stepped onto a slightly more sensitive section of the edge of the hotel's roof. It gave way beneath me.

"Gahack! Oh, thank heavens, I caught the ledge! Chet! Get over here and pull me up!"

-...-

"Chet?!"

"...Pony..."

"What?!"

"Ponies are the enemy...PONIES ARE THE ENEMY OF SOCIETY!!"

"CHET, I DON'T CARE IF THE PONY'S TRYING TO GUN YOU DOWN ITSELF! GET OVER HERE AND PULL ME UP BEFORE I-"

-Click!-

"Wha? NO! Oh, shit! I turned it off!"

??:??

<ZZZ*

-EEE*

What? It stopped! The noise is gone!

Wait, what am I doing?

Am I flying?!

What's all this extra weight?!

"AAAAAHHHH!!!"

What the heck?!

9:34 P.M.

Oh, how good it feels to run again!

This was amazing! It's been so long since I've been in good enough shape to exert myself like this, and it feels fantastic!

All too soon, I arrived. I stopped dead in my tracks. I knew the mirror had to be downright huge, but I wasn't prepared for this!

I looked up, and I couldn't make out how high it went. I cast a look down both sides of the street along the base of the mirror, and I couldn't tell where it ended.

The road itself was still occupied with a few people, late as it was. Ponies, too. I saw a few who might've looked familiar from some shots of the background in the show, but I had no names to attach to the faces. Barty wasn't of much help in that regard while we were watching it, it seemed.

Then I focused my gaze straight ahead...

...and was met with a face I recognized in a flash!

Dark brown, almost black, slightly thinning hair was mostly hidden underneath a white baseball cap with a blue bill; a whitened, well-trimmed, uniform length mustache-beard combo covering a cleft chin and an astonished pair of lips; crow's feet, worry lines, smile lines and a distinctive crease on the center-side edge the left eyebrow; a thick, evenly-sloped nose; and wide, weary eyes, stunned at the sight before him. On the cap were four words, proudly emblazoned, "Superior Mobile Home Park".

That's my face...

I looked down.

Hooves.

I looked up.

Hands.

That's my body!

That's my real reflection!

THAT'S ME!

"Why?"

Oh, it is great to see the old me again! Just wait 'till everyone sees this!

"Oh, of all the ponies to see in this great new world, I never thought I'd run into you here!"

Huh? Who's that?

I turned around to find a stallion approaching me with a filly following close behind him.

Best make sure.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you talking to me?"

He was of a bit larger build than most stallions I'd seen on the show, other than Big Macintosh now that I think of it. He had a dirt brown coat, a tar black mane, tail and pair of eyebrows and detergent blue eyes, and he was sporting a sharply tailored suit and a green necktie with a gold dollar sign.

He never once dropped that practiced businessman's smile as he laid out his response.

"Indeed, I am, but, of course, I should introduce mylself. You can call me Mr. Rich, and this is my good friend Twist."

He turned to one side, revealing a cutie mark consisting of three bags of cash as well as giving me a better look at his companion.

She looked close to Sweetie Belle's or Apple Bloom's height from the show I'd wager, and she had a custard yellow coat, a curly, licorice red mane and tail, bubblegum pink eyes, and a cutie mark of two crossed candy canes forming the shape of a heart. She also wore braces and a pair of large, thick-rimmed purple glasses.

"Hi, Mithter!"

That filly...is adorable.

"Well, hello to you, too!"

Shame about that lisp, though.

What strikes me as odd, though is why the two of them are talking to me in the first place. I don't know these ponies, and they certainly never appeared in any of the episodes of the show that I've seen.

What could they possibly want with me?

"Okay, now I know this might sound strange, but how do you know me?"

That smile dropped for a split second, but he brought it back in an instant.

"Why, I may not know you personally, but everypony who reads the Equestria Daily newspaper has surely followed your exploits! After all, you are the premier Party Planner in the country!"

I'm the what?!

Then he grabs front hoof and starts shaking it.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Cheese Sandwich!"

I loaded the barrel.

-Whhhunt!-

"No ponies."

I sealed the chamber.

-KA-CHAK!-

"No ponies!"

I powered on the systems.

-oooooooooOOOOOOO-

"No! Ponies!"

I switched on the targeting reticule.

-Manual Targeting Online-

-Target Locked-

"NOOO! POOONIEEEESS!"

I gave it the final command.

-Firing in 3...-

-2-

-1-

Day ?? - ???, ??:?? (Mindscape)

After what felt like an eternity later, my enclosure suddenly contracted in on me, and I was flung back out into the air...

-Bowm!-

...and right into what felt like a thick stone pillar.

-Slam!-

I couldn't do anything but flop to the ground.

The first thing that hit me, though, was how unbelievably hot it was!

I winced through one eye as I pulled myself together. I made one crucial observation in that moment, however.

That's an awful lot of red.

Slowly.

Carefully.

I opened my eyes.

I saw Luigi and Yoshi standing on a long, narrow island, surrounded by...

"Welcome-a to Lethal Lava Land!"

LAVA?!

"Now, don't-a panic!"

"Are you CRAZY?! THERE'S LAVA EVERYWHERE!"

"It's-a minor inconvenience at best!"

You! Wha-? HUH!?

"Though it would be best if you, and this might be obvious, but you are new at this, try to avoid falling into it!"

I felt my right eye twitch.

"That's not going to help anybody."

"YOU! ARE! BOTH! INSANE!"

"Actually, Noteworthy. They're right."

I heard Little David's voice from behind me. I turned around to find him sitting on the head of a...huge...enormous...

"Oh! Hey, Gargantua! Enjoying yourself?"

That gaping mouth...Those fangs...Those eyebrows!

How can such a little kid be so comfortable on top of such a...monster?!

Then it spoke.

"Yes, yes. It's just lovely here! So nice of you to visit, Yoshi, Little David! Luigi, why don't you introduce me to this new face I see?"

"You betcha! Gargantua, this is-a Danny's new mental roommate, Noteworthy from Equestria! Noteworthy, this is Gargantua Blaarg!"

How can you all be so casual about all this?! He's literally, made of LAVA!

"Oh, and what's he 'represent', huh? Volcanoes?! Fire?! Magma?! Death?!"

"AHAHAHAHA! You're quite funny, little pony! I am not so important as that! I am simply a Figment Without, good Noteworthy."

A what?!

"You see, Noteworthy, Figments can be a lot of things! In Big G's case, he's a character from a videogame that left an impression on Danny, but he hasn't gotten a promotion to Representative yet, so he's a 'figment without' anything to represent!"

"I couldn't have said it better myself, Little David!" Yoshi confirmed.

This was all just too much!

Lava...harmless? Monsters...friendly? What kind of lunatic thinks like this?!

I decided to try and keep them talking and hope that, should things go south, I could find a way to bolt before they could react. I didn't know what I'd do after that, or how I'd get out of here, but all I could do was hope that I'd be able to think of something when the time came.

"S-So...is that all there is to it? Either you're a Representative or a Figment Without?"

"Oh, no, Noteworthy! You have to be given a lot of Thought to even be a Figment Without! Most Figments here in Danny's mind are little more than Props."

"Thankfully, most-a times, you don't stay a Prop Figment for long if you're going to be promoted. Danny tends to give a lot of-a Thought to new ideas when he finds them."

Yeah, I bet that would be terrifying for you. Too bad.

"So...let me get this straight. When an idea first becomes a figment of Danny's imagination, it starts out as a Prop, then through being given increasing amounts of "Thought" as you call it, it can be promoted to being a Figment Without, and eventually a Concept Representative? Is that right?"

"Yep! And furthermore, a figment's capacity to think for itself, is directly proportional to how much Thought it's been given."

"And, of course there are certain privileges that come with the promotion to Concept Representative, that we Figments Without simply cannot enjoy. For example: the ability to explore Danny's mindscape beyond our own Domains."

Oh? This sounds promising.

"Wait, so do you mean you can't leave here?"

"Correct, young stallion. Danny is veeery serious about keeping himself organized, and most Domains here in this environment are grounded in certain Themes. Figments who share a Theme, whatever their rank, are placed in the Domain with the same Theme. Most Props just amble around, following the behaviors Danny remembers from when their ideas were introduced to him. You'll likely see quite a few of them here in Lethal Lava Land, including Bullies, Big Bullies, Dodongos, Podoboos, Fire Guys, and the occasional Mr. I."

"Okay, okay, I think I get it."

I'll just have to find out what they want from me and get it over with. Then I'll try to convince them to take me back to that palace-like place, and I'll go from there.

Wait...something about that Domains bit is actually making me kinda curious. If Danny matches Figment Themes to Domain themes wherever possible...

"What about Figments that fit more than one Theme?"

Gargantua smiled. It was still really freaky.

"Ah, that's the beauty of it, Noteworthy! If Danny comes across a figment that he can't nail down to one Theme, it intrigues him, and he will often give it even more Thought! That's how a lot of Figments become Concept Representatives, by being interesting enough to Danny that he has no choice but to forgo compartmentalizing them and connect their idea to that of a base concept of his choosing. There is the risk, however, that he gives up on figuring out that particular figment. Those are dark days. For you see, when an idea no longer holds his attention, but hasn't yet found its place in a Domain, it tends to be...forgotten."

All four of them shuddered at the mention of that word.

Yeah, I wouldn't mind too badly to forget a few things, myself.

"But enough about-a that! We need to get to why we brought-a you here in the first place!"

"Yeah!"

Little David slid down from atop Gargantua's head and hopped onto the island I was on, doing a couple flips in the air on his way down.

"Remember how I said that the castle environment where we met was a memory from one of Danny's favorite videogames?"

I nodded.

"Well, he loved that game so much that he memorized the layout of every obstacle course in it! Now, there's a mechanism to that game that marked his progress toward winning: the Power Stars. There's 7 of them in every course, and Lethal Lava Land here is no exception!"

"That's-a right! We chose this-a course because, though Danny usually comes across it close-a to halfway through the game, it has one of the easiest-a Stars to find!"

"The 8-Coin Puzzle with 15 Pieces!"

"The what?"

"AHAHA! I'm afraid that's all you'll get for a clue! You'll have to figure the rest out on your own! Goodbye, friend Noteworthy!"

"Don't-a worry! The path is pretty straightforward! Just-a be wary of anything that looks like it could hurt you, and you'll-a be fine!"

And with that, they all left. Gargantua lazily sunk back below the surface of the lava, and Luigi, Little David and Yoshi all glowed a bit before simply vanishing.

And I was alone in this Tartarus.

Well, if I don't do this, it looks like I won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Nothing left to it but to do it, I suppose.

Luigi was right, for the most part. After making my way under the archway that pillar was connected to, crossing a straight section of land that was far too low to the lava for my taste and climbing a short set of stairs, I stopped for a moment to take in my surroundings.

I was at one end of a long raised platform that led to a grated square platform by way of a bridge that raised and lowered at regular intervals. To my right was a cone-shaped volcano with a rotating, ring-shaped platform surrounding it. And if I squinted, I could just barely make out some movement in the distance beyond and to the right of the giant eyeball ahead of me.

Yeah, like I needed another reminder how weird this place is.

After making my way past a number of angry spherical creatures with horns and navigating the bridge, I came up to an eyeball hovering in the center of the square grated area. Its whites were tinted yellow, from the lava no doubt, and its iris was red, and as I tried to wind my way around it, it turned to follow me.

It's just a Prop. It's just a Prop. It's just a Prop.

My next obstacle was a plank-like platform that was floating on the surface of the lava, one side dipping below the surface at a time. Then, off to the right of it...

Whoa...

Fifteen square, white platforms with chopped up images painted on top of them hovered about a half foot above the molten surface of the lava. One by one they shifted about eachother like the scrambled pieces of a puzzle, and above them floated what looked like eight red, rotating Bits with a star-shaped indentation on each side.

Huh. Well, you can't get much more literal than that!

I wasted little time jumping to the teetering platform. I stopped, however, when I noticed five smaller golden Bits floating in a straight line on top of it.

Curious, I reached out a hoof to touch one of them.

-Bling!-

It vanished!

I'm not quite sure what to make of this. I touched it, and there was a chime and a few sparkles, and then it was gone.

Wait, David said this was an obstacle course from a game. Now, if what I remember from those machines in the Outdoor Arcade Park back in Ponyville, most of these games have a "Points System" or something. Did I just collect one of this game's points?

I stepped forward, into the next Bit.

-Bling!-

Okay, nothing bad seems to be happening so far.

-Bling!Bling!Bling!-

Well, my theory seems to be holding up so far, but I have no idea if I'm even doing this right. Hmm, let's see what happens if I touch one of those red ones.

After gathering some speed, I pounced from the tilting island to the edge of the large square puzzle. The moving piece was on the other side at the time, so it looked safe enough. There in front of me was the first of the eight red Bits.

Here I go.

I reached out my hoof once again...

-Bling!Do-doo-da-dee!-

I looked up at the strange symbol that appeared above my head. It was red and yellow, and after pondering it for a moment, I realized it looked just like the font used on the door I went through back in the rainbow room! Then, as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

Is that it? Is that all there is to this? Yoshi said that this mission was an "Eight Coin Puzzle". Was that the first one, then? Do I just have to collect the other seven to earn a "Star"?

I mulled over everything I'd heard about this place, and if that were indeed the case, it would make a good deal of sense.

"Well! This might actually be as easy as they said!"

"Too easy if you ask me!"

Who was that?!

Wait.

I remember that voice.

That was the day...

That horrible, horrible day...

That was the day he came to Ponyville.

I've had nightmares about that day.

We'd all been in town together when it happened.

We didn't get a warning.

One moment we were all enjoying a Jam Session together, the next...

No.

And That laugh...

No. No!

"Where are you! Show yourself!"

"Ohh, hohohohoho!"

I turned, following the rancid sound only to find it coming from behind me.

The eye!

I just stood there staring as the now all too familiar yellow and red eye rose up into the air.

It squashed.

It stretched.

It spun.

And then, it one sickeningly bright flash, it changed.

What once was a perfectly spherical shape was revealed to be the Epitome of Imperfection himself!

"Discord!"

"Hahahahahaa! Yes! It is I, Discord! Spirit of Disharmony! Master of Chaos! Duke of Bewilderment! Earl of Unease! Lord of Entropy! And last and most important of all...!"

I braced for the worst!

"Figment Representative for Young Daniel's Concept of Variety!"

Wha-?

"At your service!"

No. Seriously.

WHAT?!?!

Day ?? - ???, ??::?? (Reality)

What was I thinking?!

I have no idea what I'm doing!

I'm a Cashier, not a Soldier!

This is completely out of my league!

These people aren't afraid to kill, and I have no idea how well equipped they are to do so.

And yet, I still stood there in the thick of the herd, facing down the door that simultaneously blocked off our exit and would soon allow our jailers access to our block of this compound. If they came in firing...

Best Pony or no, Rartiy and the rest of them up at the front don't stand a chance if they come in suppressing us with gunfire, or even with tranquilizers! We'd be on the defensive from the first turn, and it would only be a matter of time before we all fell, once they started scoring hits.

We're...so...totally...

-Clang!-

What?

I looked up to the front of the herd and saw that where there were six colors of magic holding up a small menagerie of metal panels, there were now five.

I couldn't see who it was as the pegasus stallion chained up behind Rarity was between us and had also turned in that direction, blocking my view.

What I heard, however, was the unmistakable sound of trembling.

We're already cracking. It won't be a slowly degrading battle...It'll be a slaugh-

"Get ahold of yourself! Look at me!"

I did so.

Rarity had pulled a foreleg around the unicorn next to her, bringing her out into my field of vision.

It was a mare. Her coat was dirty, marring what would have been a rich red. Her disheveled bun of a mane and her tangled, trailing tail were both a mixture of muted blue and dull yellow, their true hues tainted with grime. Her shock addled eyes were dilated, making it difficult for me to tell, but they looked vaguely orange-ish. From my angle, I could also see her cutie mark: six different flowers, one for each color of the rainbow, wrapped up in a bouquet.

I felt for her.

"I know you're scared."

Yeah, that's the truth.

"We all are."

Yep, I'd imagine so.

"Be strong for me."

How?

"Be strong for you!"

How?!

"Be strong for them!"

Please! Tell me how!

"I-I can't-"

The unicorn trembled in her embrace.

If you don't tell me, how can I-

"Bullshit, you can't!"

Wh-Wha-?

"But-"

B-But, Rarity, why-?

"No! No excuses!"

I-I-I'm not-

"I'm not having any weaknesses in my front line!"

I-I-I-

"If you can't handle the pressure, then switch places with somepony who can! Otherwise..."

No...you...I...

"Well, I guess I'll just have to leave you behind."

No! You can't! I-

She was overwhelmed by Rarity's onslaught.

"Y-You wouldn't...!"

Rarity just scoffed.

"I've been chased, bit, tackled, squeezed and had my face stuffed in far too many pairs of breasts. If you think, for one second, that I'm going to let these slack-jawed shit-stains tie me down with the rest fo these ponies and make me their marshmallow bitch, you, madam, are horribly mistaken."

This is wrong. Rarity doesn't talk like that!

This is all so wrong!

My breath quickened.

My pulse pounded in my ears.

I lost sight of my surroundings.
Noteworthy, I'm sorry! I-I can't take this! Switch me out! Please!

...

No response.

Noteworthy?

...

NOTEWORTHY! WHERE ARE YOU! HELP ME!

-KA-CHUNK!-

That was...the deadbolt.

All my muscles tensed at once.

They're coming.

Then...something strange came over me.

My every nerve shot open.

Pure adrenaline poured into my veins.

My senses took in everything around me.

I forgot about Rarity.

I forgot about that poor other unicorn.

I forgot about the rest of the ponies around me.

I forgot about myself.

My brain returned to what it does best.

|Sensory Input| |Collective Memory| >|Imagine Drive|<

Processing best chance for survival.

Given: enemy wastes no time in opening fire upon opening the door. Survivability: 2% max.

Designation: Worst Case Scenario.

Given: Worst Case Scenario. Enemy pauses before opening fire to gawk at the assembled prisoners' battle formation. Variable: unknown enemy reaction time. Survivability: 10-18% max.

Designation: Better, But a Crappy Outcome.

Given: Better, But a Crappy Outcome. Enemy can be caught off guard in a moment of shock. Survivability: 25% max.

Designation: Still Needs Work.

Given: Still Needs Work. Enemy weaponry obtainable. Variable: weapon compatibility with pony dexterity. Survivability: 29-37% max.

Designation: Hooves, How Do?!

Given: Hooves, How Do?! Enemy weaponry conjecture: Assault. Includes: firearms, tranquilizers, blunt instruments.

Compatibility: Firearms, Nil. Tranquilizers, Nil. Blunt Instruments, Medium.

Designation: Butterhooves.

Given: Hooves, How Do?! Enemy weaponry conjecture: Defensive. Includes: tasers, pepper spray, riot shields.

Comparability: Tasers, Nil. Pepper Spray, Medium. Riot Shields, Medium.

Designation: Will Leave a Bad Taste in My Mouth.

Given: Will Leave a Bad Taste in My Mouth. Reinforcement by fellow Prisoners. Variable: fellow prisoner forces v. enemy forces. Survivability: 50-78% max.

Designation: Battle Mini-Game!

Given: Battle Mini-Game! Forces balance conjecture: Enemy > Prisoners.

Designation: Back Into Your Cell, Bookworm!

Given: Battle Mini-Game! Forces balance conjecture: Enemy = Prisoners.

Designation: Attrition.

Given Battle Mini-Game! Forces balance conjecture: Enemy < Prisoners.

Designation: Rescue Aid Society.

Given: Rescue Aid Society. Prisoners work together. Variable: herd teamwork level. Survivability: 80-87% max.

Designation: Speed-Power-Fly.

Given: Speed-Power-Fly. Teamwork conjecture: Poor.

Designation: Fallapart Rabbit.

Given: Speed-Power-Fly. Teamwork conjecture: Fair.

Designation: Scratch and Grounder.

Given: Speed-Power-Fly. Teamwork conjecture: Good.

Designation: Team Rocket.

Given: Speed-Power-Fly. Teamwork conjecture: Excellent.

Designation: The Return of Harmony.

Given: The Return of Harmony. Prisoners combat capable. Variable: Enemy competency. Survivability: 89-95% max.

Designation: Difficulty Level.

Given: Difficulty Level. Enemy competency conjecture: High.

Designation: Through the Fire and Flames.

Given: Difficulty Level. Enemy competency conjecture: Medium.

Designation: Booster's Tower.

Given: Difficulty Level. Enemy competency conjecture: Low.

Designation: Eight Koopas in a Row.

Given: Eight Koopas in a Row. We get lucky. Survivability: 100%.

Designation: Best Case Scenario.

Preparing...

It took all of five seconds.

My muscles coiled.

My stance made itself ready to bolt ahead.

There was only the door.

I'd run the numbers, and if these goons operated on fear as much as I'd guessed, then this had a high probability of paying off big time.

Now Gambling...

The enemy gate began to open.

Ready.

Disorganized rubber tromping made itself known to my ears.

Steady.

Then my eyes made contact with the first of the enemy forces: a stout man brandishing a riot shield!

GO!

"GAAANGWAAAAYY!!!"

Status: Still Needs Work. Current Survivability: 25%.

I sped out of the herd as fast as my four legs could take me. I was not going to let this chance pass me by!

I coiled up my strength once more, my hooves slid on the slick tiled floor for just a split second before I leapt up into the air, gunning for the stunned rotund riot shield wielder.

I remember the elevator from my dream and extend both forelegs out in front of me. My hooves slammed into his shoulders with enough force to throw him off balance! He fell backwards into a number of other goons behind him, causing them to lose their footing as well.

This was exactly what I needed!

The guards would recover soon, though; so I measured my hoof and swiped it against the first one's temple, knocking him out. I then pried the riot shield from his slackened grip.

Status: Will Leave a Bad Taste in My Mouth. Current Survivability: 37%.

With the way the shield's handle was designed, I had to turn it on its side in order to hold it between my teeth and still be able to maneuver.

I quickly took notice that some of the men I'd knocked over were getting back up. I also felt the telltale rumbling of the charging of the herd. I made a quick head count, including the man I'd already taken out.

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8!

My mind went back to the herd and I remembered our formation from before the door opened.

One row of three, then three rows of four: 15!

Status: Rescue Aid Society. Current Survivability: 78%!

I rushed over to one of the men who was still down and quickly knocked him out as I had the first one. Then I turned my attention to the ones still up.

One of the guards had already leveled his weapon at me, and before I could guess at what it was, I received a prime demonstration.

Tranquilizer darts bounced harmlessly off my shield, and I took it as a signal to rush forward once more. There was another guard behind him readying a nightstick-like baton, and an idea occurred to me.

I circled the stymied gunman and then continued my advance, coiling up my leg muscles once more and leaping shield-first into him. It was an encore of my stunt at the door if I ever saw one, and once both men were down. I climbed over them to get to their heads and knock them out as well.

While I was focused on that task, two more guards came up, one on either side of me, and grabbed the ends of the riot shield, hoisting me up into the air with it.

For a moment, flailing my legs was all I could think to do, but when I opened my eyes again, I realized that it took the two of them using both arms to even lift both myself and the riot shield off the ground.

Never loosening my grip on the handle and thanking pony physiology for my impressive jaw grip strength, I decided to explore another of its aspects: namely, the range of pony flexibility and reach.

I took into account the position of my hind legs relative to the two aggressors and struck!

They crumpled instantly.

All I had to do after that was give them a push, and they toppled to the ground, too preoccupied with their pain to keep their respective balance. Two more strikes with my hoof, and they were out.

I then scanned the room for any more targets, and I saw that red unicorn from before intercept a Taser shot with her shield panel.

Metal sheet + Taser electrodes + Weapon status = Tetris Attack Shock | ! | Panel.

Nice!

With a magical twist, she flung it through the air at another guard...only for him to weave to one side and avoid it.

Of course, you can't ever use just one.

While it was unsuccessful, the red unicorn's attempted attack gave me an idea.

Status: The Return of Harmony. Current Survivability: 88%!

I wasted no time in tracking down the riot shield once again; I'd let go of it after my wince-worthy ordeal with the two goons. I grabbed one end of the battered barrier in my teeth, wound up and flung it through the air to finish the job!

"And stay down!"

And he did.

Guard #1 - Bowled Over

Guard #2 - Down for the Count

Guard #3 - Green Missile'd

Guard #4 - Shouldn't Have Stood There, Buddy

Guard #5 - High Pitched Harry

Guard #6 - My Condolences to Your Children, Oh Wait

Guard #7 - The Captain Would Be Proud

Guard #8 - Whose Point Was That Anyway?

I scanned the floor, and between me and the door we'd stormed the number of unconscious bodies matched up with my initial head count, so I figured it was best just to move forward.

I went to work disarming the beaten guards, neatly sorting the weapons into piles of like things, though frankly there wasn't much to go around for fifteen ponies, but I figured, better to be safe than sorry.

I was just about finished when-

-bang.-

Huh? Wha?

I looked around, wondering what had made such an underwhelming sound. When I turned my head back towards the rest of the herd, I saw Rarity staring down a lone gunman, with my old riot shield hovering about in that weird different magic aura of hers.

For a moment, I wondered where this last guy came from, as he wasn't part of my original analysis, but I soon concluded that, since Rarity seemed to have the rest of things under control, I shouldn't worry about it.

Status: Best Case Scenario! Current Survivability: 100%!

So then, back to work.

Once they'd all been relieved of their weapons, I set myself to the task of removing them from the room.

It made the most logical sense. The door that kept us out, before Rarity taunted them into opening it, would allow us to lock them out more permanently.

So that's what I did.

I bit down on whatever loose bits of fabric I could find, and began dragging each of the downed guards out the door and into a pile.

I was working on dragging out High-Pitched Harry when a muffled shout reached my ears.

My head jerked up.

"Mwhuhsh gom' om?"

It took me a second to notice that I still had "Harry's" pant leg in my mouth.

Then I noticed Rarity coming my way.

With a gun hovering by her side.

"Ii-ann-ett-oo-oh'annoo-aawltheh-uhrk."

Wha-huh?

I'd let go of the pant leg as I tried to decipher what the heck she just said.

She proceeded to finish the job, taking "Harry" out of the room, then proceeded to grab the last ones with her magic as she continued talking, her face holding a grim expression.

But why was what she said so...garbled?

"Noh eerie-uhs-lee."

Wait, I think I can-

"Hoo-ahr-yhoo?"

Oh! My name!

I sat up, politely as I could. I wasn't sure what she was planning to do with that gun, but I wasn't about to run the risk of setting her off because of bad manners of all things.

Still don't know what's going on with her and all these changes. Best to play it safe.

"Dan. My name is Dan."

She seemed to lighten her expression, but she still looked tense.

"Tsahplezhehr-toohmeetyoo misstehr-dahn..."

Why is everything she's saying so darn quiet and slurry?! Is it me? Is there something wrong with my hearing? Is that it?

Wait...did she just call me "Mr. Dan"!?

I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts.

|Sensory Input|< |Collective Memory| |Imagine Drive|

Suddenly, it felt like my ears had popped without actually releasing pressure; there was just a sudden increase in the volume and clarity for...everything!

I took half a second to re-collect myself before I replied.

"No, don't call me 'Mr. Dan', that's just...I don't know, too formal. Danny's fine. It's what everybody else calls me."

She smiled at me.

"Well, Danny, I applaud your bravado and willingness to kick the ever-living shit our of some brainless idiots for the sake and safety of others."

She then proceeded to magically shoo out the last of the guards, give a pose, and send her mane for a flip.

This is so...surreal.

Here she is, toting a gun, like an action movie heroine. She'd just taken down a gunman by herself! That much was obvious; not to mention a feat in and of itself, and not something I'd readily attribute to the Rarity I know from the show.

And again! Her language! It was almost like someone had taken Rarity's personality and injected a used syringe full of Jock into it!

At least it appeared that most of what made Rarity "Rarity" was still there, and...

Then it hit me.

She just saw all of that stuff I just did, or at the very least, most of it...

...and she just paid me a compliment for it.

I couldn't help but break out into a grin, a chuckle even escaped my lips.

"Thanks, I...Gosh. I never thought I'd hear someone say that to me before."

I was about to take a step toward her, but when I lifted my leg, I...

Wha-oh! Whoa! Why is the room spinning, all of a sudden?!

I couldn't feel my hooves, my legs were on fire, and I suddenly realized that all this time, my heart had been beating about ninety miles and hour!

I was about to fall over, but lo and behold, Rarity came up alongside me and let me put my foreleg around her back for support.

"Easy there, killer. Take five."

I nodded, but by that time, she'd already finished helping me back to my hooves, which were still on pins and needles by the way, and had cantered off somewhere else.

My breathing came in gasps. The only guess I could make about the whole situation, was that this was all of that adrenaline, and whatever else was going on with my body that made me so numb to the world around me finally wearing off. Every pain sensor, every nerve, every tactile surface on my body, was coming back alive all at once, while I struggled to bring my pulse and breathing back under control.

I eventually stumbled my way over to the nearest wall, and when I got there, I propped my right foreleg against it extra support.

-Slam!-Ka-chak!-

I didn't bother turning around. Even in my addled state, I could deduce that the source of that sound was the door closing and the deadbolt being put back in place.

"Hey, big guy."

I could really only turn my head and neck at the time without risking losing my lunch, but I certainly turned around for that.

"Hey." was all I could manage.

Rarity came up next to me again and sat down. I didn't know what it was, but I began to feel just the slightest bit better, just being near her.

She motioned for me to join her.

I obliged.

"You-uhh...Made me proud, by the way. Why don't you sit down for a moment. If we're going to escape, I'd prefer that we're not all exhausted."

She pointed a hoof back toward the door.

"And I don't think any of those assholes in there are getting back up anytime soon."

This peace was just what I needed, and sitting here, I felt like I was finally getting back to my old self again. It's strange, when I woke up inside my own mind, as a pony of all things, I had no idea what was going on. But after meeting Noteworthy, and then waking up with a pillow in my mouth, and then taking part in this epic jailbreak alongside The Absolute Best Pony Of All Time, I feel...more alive than I think I ever have in the past.

"Thanks again, Ma'am, I-"

She put up a hoof to stop me.

"Dude, call me Rarity or Tony."

I blinked.

TONY!?

Suddenly, it all made sense! The language! The brutish tendencies! Everything!

The human she's been playing host to was a GUY!

D'uh! That's where the Jock Juice came from!

Wait a minute...a guy, a crass jock of a guy, woke up as Rarity. I bet that was an awkward couple of days...at least.

...and I just called him 'Miss'.

Oops.

I backpedaled.

"O-okay. Thanks, Rarity. Sorry about that. Force of habit."

He, or maybe 'she', I wasn't sure, took it surprisingly well.

"It's fine, honestly. I'm just not really..."

She paused. She looked like she was trying to sort something out.

"Well, I am used to it, but I'm not."

Yeah, I'd imagine so.

I kinda felt for Tony. I couldn't really empathize with him on what it must've felt to not actually be a guy anymore, but I did know how it felt to have your life turned into a complete mess overnight.

"Alright, I guess, so..."

How can I say 'I know how you feel, but at the same time, I don't' without coming off as trying to pity the both of them?

"I-"

WAIT! Better idea!

"Where do you think we are?"

For too long, I've been in the dark about where I stand, physically, at least, and now was the perfect opportunity!

The brown pegasus stallion I'd failed to notice who was chained behind Rarity spoke up this time.

"Probably in the lower floors of Wherever-in-Hell we are."

"No," I tried to correct, "I mean, where in the country?"

Finally feeling rested enough that I was confident I wouldn't start to puke if I moved, I stood back up and adressed not only the two of them, but the herd as a whole.

"I took a nap in the back of a Walmart in Texas, and woke up here. Does anyone here have a clue where we are?"

That seemed to catch everypony off guard.

Rarity was the first to speak up.

"Ohio? Kentucky? Maine? I really don't know..."

Oh...crap.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

Nopony would know, and of course nopony did.

Every single one of us were abductees.

They'd taken us all from our homes, families, jobs...everything.

We were all lost, afraid, and didn't know how in the world we'd get back home, or even if there was a home to go back to with how we'd all been changed!

And I...just reminded...everypony of that fact.

Okay, I think I'm done talking for now...or forever.

"Alright, ponies!"

My attention snapped to Rarity, who'd donned a commanding tone of voice.

"I know you're all tired, but the fight isn't over yet, and I need you all to give everything you've got right now!"

I felt the tension in the room start to evaporate as she continued.

"I don't know what's waiting for us up those stairs, but are we going to let them put us back in cages?!"

"NO!" was her reply, and I was among those who gave it. She was just so inspiring!

She pumped a hoof in the air, then grabbed up the now-even-worse-for-wear riot shield and raised it as well!

"We fight! We fight!"

"FIGHT!" we all chanted back! The earlier solemnity was completely forgotten, and wherever Rarity would lead us, we were set to follow!

"Nothing is impossible!"

I almost lost sight of her as the herd formed up behind her.

"YEAH!"

I grinned. It felt like we really had a chance to get out of here! More than a chance! Victory was all but certain!

She led us all up the stairs, away from the oppressive cell block, and up to the door to the next leg of our escape.

"Everything is a challenge,"

She turned back to face us...

"and...WE WON'T BACK DOWN!"

...and proceeded to STRAIGHT UP BUCK THE DOOR IN!

Alright! Now that's what I'm talking about!

And on it went.

Another set of stairs, another door for Rarity to not give a care about bucking her way through, and then we were up and out into another hallway.

As we galloped along, I noticed something.

One of the unicorns, the red-coated mare from before, whom I had assumed was up in the front of the herd with Rarity, like they were last time, was right there next to me.

...and I appeared to be passing her.

Why is sh-?

"We've got incoming."

I'd barely heard it, but I recognized the voice of the pegasus who was basically serving as Rarity's 'Right-Hoof Stallion' as the adjusted phrase might go.

The herd came to a stop at a junction in the hallway, and I too heard the rapid footfalls.

-Click-

I shot my gaze back to Rarity, and I watched her throw aside the pistol she'd taken from that one guard I didn't take into account before. While I didn't know how Rarity would've handled it, I could guess that there was only one reason why any tough guy, like Tony probably was, who was running for his life to escape an enemy compound would throw away a weapon.

It was empty.

Oh, boy. So much for smooth sailing.

I swore I could almost feel myself slipping back into that freaky hyper-analytical Work Mode I'd just gotten out of when I caught sight of the figure who'd found us.

I'd seen enough NCIS with my family back home to know a military officer's uniform when I saw one!

"Stephanie Chase! CIA!"

I lit up!

That's it! That's how they always introduce themselves to everyone! I'm in the presence of an actual, honest to God, Government Agent!

Though, it seemed Rarity, or Tony, didn't share my enthusiasm.

"Show us your identification, dear. I'd rather not be taken hostage by some bullshit vigilante after what we've been through."

The officer smiled brightly at Rarity, as well as the rest of us. She confidently displayed her badge and identification.

"I'm here officially, and with Applejack."

I was stunned.

After everything I've been through, being saved by one of the Mane 6 was amazing in its own right...but two!?

This is too good to be true!

"Okay, look,"

I came back to reality to the sound of Ms. Stephanie's helpful voice.

"We need to get you guys out of here. Show of hooves. Who's cuffed?"

SHE HAD KEYS!

Okay, Ma'am, I'm officially swayed! Rarity, give her the go-ahead, would you?

"Very well."

That was easy.

"Everypony, be still and let Miss Chase here get you out of your chains."

She made short work of everypony in the herd who was still cuffed and chained to eachother.

As she went along, she gave us some more encouragement.

"Looking good, folks. Who's sharp?"

Sharp?

"I'm going to be at the front of this group, but I need someone who can watch our back."

Oh! Okay, that's definitely something I can-

"I can do it."

Wha- Rarity?!

Indeed, once she'd been freed from her chains, she massaged her hoof and then purposefully strode to the rear of the herd.

"I am a fairly recent addition to our merry band of adventurers, so I have a bit more kick left in me."

Then, with all eyes on her, something happened that, even after everything I'd seen, I still wasn't prepared for.

That scarf she was wearing...transformed into a necklace.

Not just any accessory, mind you.

What was around her neck was the one-and-only Element of Generosity!

The Elements...

The actual gems of the Elements of Harmony...are here!

On Earth!

Dad...wherever you are right now. I don't know how you'll take this, but even after this whole people turning into ponies thing, there's no way to avoid this anymore...

Magic is real now.

"I figure there is no need to keep it hidden any longer."

I smiled.

Aww, Rarity. You so clever!

"Must...not...fangirl!"

Ha! It looks like our Friendly Neighborhood Officer has good taste in favorite ponies!

Ms. Stephanie quickly regained her composure.

"Okay, ponies! You're gonna follow me. We have to pick up three more, and then we're out of here."

Three more? Assuming Applejack is one of them, that still leaves two unaccounted for. Who else could be here?!

And on that bombshell, we were on the move once again.

As I pondered the implications of there being a third or possibly even a fourth element bearer right here in the same building, I caught sight of that same red unicorn, and once again, she seemed to be going just a hair slower than the rest of us.

Okay, now I'm curious.

I matched my pace to hers and looked her over. Almost immediately, I saw a piece of black cloth tied tightly around one of her hind legs, just above the hoof. I watched her run for a moment. She was focused on keeping up with the rest of the herd, that much was obvious, but I saw that whenever that hoof came down, her brow furrowed just a little bit harder, she frowned just a little bit deeper, and picked that leg up just a little bit quicker.

I knew all too well what these tells meant.

These were the signs of Silent Suffering.

When you're in pain, but there's something else that's been forced into a higher priority.

When you know that people are watching, and you put on a brave face.

There's no time for relief, but no matter how hard you push forward, it doesn't make the pain go away.

And you want nothing more than for the pain to just go away!

But it doesn't.

And it doesn't feel like there's any point in even mentioning it, as there's no way of knowing who among those around you can be trusted not to judge you.

To believe you and to not disregard you.

They're all strangers, so you have to keep going.

Don't lose focus.

Don't succumb.

And above all else...

Don't. Complain.

She turned toward me, and her eyes met mine.

Because nobody likes a complainer.

In that moment, I knew I was right.

I didn't need to know the why or how, though I could probably guess.

So I made a decision.

I knew she wouldn't object, I'd seen it all in her eyes.

I sped up veered to my left, and before I collided with her, I ducked my head and neck down so they went underneath her.

There were no words. None were necessary.

I raised my head back up into place and took advantage of the last aspect of being a pony I'd ever thought would come in handy since this happened to me.

That of simply being a beast of burden.

??:??

Eventually we did meet up with the rest of Ms. Stephanie's party, and it turned out I was right about one thing regarding them. Applejack wasn't the only element bearer there. There was one more with them: Fluttershy.

Half of the Mane 6, a Government Agent, and apparently a doctor of some kind were all there with us, working to help us all get out of there alive and unharmed. I admit I felt a little insignificant among all these heroes. I was just an unlucky Cashier from Santa Fe, Texas, just along for the ride.

And in the end...

...we made it.

I'm afraid I didn't contribute much else to the workings of the actual escape. The others would probably be able to give a much better account of everything that went down between when we all met back up to the eventual rescue by those government helicopters. All that mattered to me in that final moment was one thing.

We were free.

Author's Note

Damon: This "Mr. Rich" looks like he's dressed up in diamonds and dirt. Why's he calling me by this name. I'm not "Cheese Sandwich"!

...Am I?

Me: Oh, Freedom, I've been waiting here for you! I have waited! So! Long!

Walkie-Talkie Man

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 1: Walkie-Talkie Man

Someday - Sometime
Somewhere - Someone

It frustrates me sometimes when I can't remember my dreams.

Whatever I dreamt last night could've possibly given me a clue about this whole thing.

Then I'd have probably had some kind of warning to stay home from work that day. I get those sometimes. Not quite sure why, but sometimes they make sense in retrospect after I've been through certain situations.

They're mostly just flights of fancy, though.

Especially after I became a brony.

That's neither here nor there as far as helping me out where I'm at right now is concerned, though.

Let me back up a bit.

Today started innocently enough, despite the lack of dream recall I mentioned. I woke up, did my morning routine for the day, went to college where I ususally surfed through new updates for stories I was following on Fimfiction.net and any other things Bronies were doing that interested me between classes. Then I'd come home to the mobile home park where I worked on a few assignments before getting on my way to my job as a Cashier at Walmart. It wasn't the best paying job in the world, but it got me enough to hold up my portion of the rent my brothers and I were sharing plus some extra to either save or spend however I wanted.

My folks were really generous with that setup. They said we needed to be out on our own, but at least they gave us a good deal on a unit in the park to get us started.

Not that any of that matters with where I'm at right now.

Work went fine, as it usually does. Scan fast. Pack well. Be sure to say your lines. Rinse. Repeat.

Standing at that register for a couple of hours at a time can be stressful, but I've been able to cope with that by thinking of each bag I'm filling as a puzzle to solve. Sure, it may cut into my speed a bit, but the customers don't seem to mind, on the whole.

Always have to wear that smile, though. Customer complaints can be hazardous to my employment.

Suffice to say I'm always glad when my supervisors send someone to replace me for my breaks. I'd have to take care of any merchandise my customers may have had second thoughts on before taking it, but even that little bit of sorting returns and sometimes logging accidental left-behinds was a welcome change of pace that I relished before I got to really relax.

If only briefly.

I didn't really know any of my associates there. That's one thing I regret. I worked there for four and a half years and never really made any friends. I regularly found myself searching for a nametag whenever someone approached me, though casual greetings in the aisles rarely even got that treatment. Practically the only people whose names I could rattle off on demand were those of my supervisors, and that was only because they were always getting on my case to go faster.

I wish they didn't keep giving me all those arbitrary coachings. I'm doing the best I can!

I can't really fault them for that though, they're always civil about it, and they're only doing their jobs. Just like I'm trying to do mine.

Not that I can do anything to improve that situation anymore.

Those breaks though, they're my chance to unwind. They're when I get the chance to read those chapter updates, possibly draw or write something, or just take a nap in the break room to recover while I'm off the clock for lunch. I do that last one fairly often.

I did it today, too.

The first thing that tipped me off that something was wrong was the feeling that I was lying down. I'd usually nap sitting at one of the tables, resting my head on and hugging the nylon cover of my black, insulated, no name lunch box.

Nothing but cold metal now.

I woke to the sound of a man's voice.

"-it yer whining, Mac-. -t's secure. Yeah. -ell the ol' boss man...special project...locked up tight...wanted us to."

I opened my eyes, which was strangely difficult for some reason, and I was greeted with the blurry image of a man holding something black to the side of his face.

He was gone before I'd fully come back to my senses.

First, I felt that what my head was laying on was a good deal firmer and yet softer than I remembered my lunchbox being. That was the second clue.

The third clue, however, was what I didn't feel.

I didn't feel the pinch of my beige khakis around my waist.

I didn't feel squeeze of the collar of my navy blue polo around my neck, or my cuffs around my arms for that matter.

I didn't feel the comfy film of my socks or the slightly hard but flexible shell of my shoes around my feet.

I didn't...I couldn't feel my feet!

That sure woke me up the rest of the way.

With a jolt, I snapped my head to attention, but strangely my neck somehow carried it farther upward than I was anticipating, and I hit my crown on a flat metal surface not that far above me.

By reflex, my hands shot up to rub the spot where my skull made contact as I shut my eyes to ward off the pain. Then I got the next clue.

I couldn't feel my hands either!

Now feeling that the pain could wait, my eyes shot open, and I was instantly surprised at how little there was to even see!
A squarish metal grate stood up straight in front of me. Metal surrounding it on all sides. From the looks of it, it was the same metal I just beaned myself on.

I was in a cage!

"What the...WHAT?!" I exclaimed, also suddenly finding that my voice was just a tad deeper than my usual range for outbursts.

As I reached out to try the door I got my final clue that something was wrong.

My arm was covered in deep blue fur and ended in a hoof!

Something was very, very, VERY WRONG!

I checked my other arm. Same deal.

I tried to check my legs, but the cage I was in was to short for me to sit up or even assume a decent crawling stance in and was too narrow to turn around in as well!

I felt my face. I had a muzzle! A big old snout even, that widened to a much rounder head with eye sockets as big as my hooves, tall fuzzy ears near the back, and a shock of darker blue hair between them!

Finally adding up the clues, I remembered that one video I saw a link for on Equestria Daily some time ago. That one where a particularly talented fan had animated a clip of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna and edited them into a staged video shot at some convention in New York. I recalled everything Celestia's stunningly good voice actress said.

For a moment, I was a deer in reality's headlights.

Then the pieces all came together, and the resulting conclusion struck.

That wasn't a voice actress.

That wasn't editing.

That wasn't animated.

It was real!

It was all real!

I'm a pony! A STALLION!

Locked up in a CAGE!!

ALONE!!

NO WAY OUT!!

I could feel my fear and desperation building up inside of me. Overwhelming everything else until I could contain it no longer. There was only one thing I could do.

I screamed.

HHEEEEEEAAAAAAALLLLLLPP!!!

Author's Note

Me: I don't see anyone else in any other cages either. It's just me here. Just me and that...guy who was in here earlier. That guy...with the thing.

Makes No Difference

Not\e/worthy

Part of the PonyEarthVerse

By: YarnWeaver

Chapter 2: Makes No Difference

Saturday, P.E.07 - 09:38 P.M.
La Marque, TX - Someone's Friend

I parked my car in one of our designated spaces. I was early, of course. I made sure to get here early as often as I could. It was one of the ways I made sure the higher-ups couldn't fire me for all the crap I call them out on.

Anyway, I'm an Overnight Associate. I've basically had to adapt to being nearly nocturnal. It suits me, the pay is good, and it's easier to schedule classes around than day shifts. I work in the Pets Department, so my work usually consists of taking pallets of merchandise out to the sales floor, stocking the shelves, moving older items on the shelves up to the front (a.k.a. "Zoning"), and then taking the empty pallets back to be refilled.

Sometimes they also have me unloading the trucks that come in when too many of the guys who are supposed to be doing that have called in absent. That sucks because then I have to be the one to load up the pallets in the first place while still having to perform my usual duties to keep my department looking nice for the customers. Yeah. Sucks.

And it happens all the time.

And then they berate me for falling behind on the readiness of my department.

And then I call them out on their bullcrap!

And then...Sigh...

Honestly, it could be a lot worse.

One of the few people who can make a day working at Walmart better isn't even on my shift. He's a friend I made back in my Junior year in High School, and he's a Cashier. His usual shifts are almost always about to end when mine are about to start, and since I make a habit of coming in early, we wind up meeting up for a bit before he has to leave work, and I have to start work.

We met on the bus about a week or so into the school year when he heard me playing Sonic Advance on my GBA. He just peeked up over the edge of his seat right behind the driver, saying that he played the game too, and started gushing about how far I was compared to him (I was on the Moon Zone, the final boss). It turned out that we happened to share first period, along with his older brother (who was actually in my year, as opposed to his Sophomore status). We got to know each other better over the semesters, and we eventually became friends, often just hanging out at my folk's place or theirs and playing video games.

I wind my way around the back of the store out of habit, trying to get a good parking spot without having to deal with any possible traffic or having to yield to pedestrians. I spot his, admittedly P.O.S., old Dodge Neon a few spaces away from the front of the lot, against the treeline. Yeah, it's purple. He likes the color, but he's straight as a rod, so that's the end of that!

There aren't any open spots nearby, so I end up having to park a good couple minutes walk away from the doors. Meh.

As I get out of my Corolla I notice something weird.

There's actually a fair amount of cop cars around tonight. Did a "yo' mama" joke go too far? I mean, this is La Marque we're talking about. Just a stone's throw from one of the most racist towns in all of Texas. It's a possibility.

I get into the store, and I swear the place feels like somebody's dog died.

Seriously, the whole atmosphere of the place practically reeks of fear and anxiety. Everybody, associates and customers alike, avoids each other's gazes. They take unnaturally long with gathering groceries, stocking shelves or whatever!

Something big happened.

Nothing big ever happens here!

I book it to the back. Hopefully he can shed some light on what happened here. I mean, if it was this big, he couldn't have possibly missed it, and by the looks of things, it must've only happened a couple hours ago. Four at the max. I push through the black, swinging double doors.

I can't believe it!

The whole break room is taped off!

Okay. Seriously. What's going on!?

I see our Store Manager talking with one of the officers.

Ugh, Gina.

I've always suspected that she's been trying either to get me fired or get me to quit for a long time. I don't trust her. She's no Kevin.

Nothing but pep talks and smiles, but without implementing any real improvements since she replaced Kevin a few years ago.

Apart from them and the other officers cataloging the apparent crime scene, the whole room is devoid of people.

Okay, this is seriously starting to worry me.

I see someone by the Punch Clock. Once I'm close enough to see her badge, I find out she's a Greeter. Great, she's gotta know what's going on. I ask her just that.

"Oh dear, you just got in, didn't you?"

That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I urge her to continue.

"Well, I didn't see it happen myself. I was on the G.M. (General Merchandise) door, but I heard from Lionel that he saw a whole
group of nasty folks just storm on in here around 6 o'clock this evening while he was on the Grocery door. Melanie in Dairy told me later that she saw them too! They just barged right into the back hall! Then, about half-a-minute later, acording to her, they blasted right back out!"

He had a 2-to-10 shift today...

That was during his lunch break.

Crap. Crap! Crap!

I hear the officers concluding their examining of the crime scene and filing out of the Break Room. I thank the Greeter (Dianna, I think), for the info, and I walk back over to see if...ugh, Gina is still there.

I blurt out the big question in her general direction, "What the hell happened in there?!"

She turns to face me. She's either gotten over the shock of what's happened or she wasn't that affected by it in the first place. I'd bank on the latter, frankly. It's been four years since she took over, and she hasn't cracked yet. For all I don't care for her, she's apparently at least good at keeping in control of things.

"Oh. Hello, Jack. Well, to give you the short answer: there's been a kidnapping."

CRAPCRAPCRAPCRAP!!

There was only one thing left to do.

I needed to know, "Where. Is. Danny?"

Author's Note

Jack: I doesn't make any difference who I am or who he is. He's my friend, and if anything's happened to him...I'm going to do something about it. I'll bring them all down myself if I have to.