You Never Did Tell Me About That Grey Tree
"Bon Bon?"
..."yeah, it's me."
"Bon Bon!?!"
"Still me, Lyra."
"Bonny, that's... that's really you?"
"I'm pretty sure I am indeed me."
"Wow. You just... just... you look so different."
"Yeah, I guess I would to you, huh?"
"So. Um, you're a... Changering...ling...thing--"
"Changeling, Lyra. I'm a changeling."
"So, well... uh... I guess you're evil then?"
"I'm whatever I want to be. If you're looking for evil, blame our stupid dirty praycxtch of a queen."
"Woah, 'pray-key-tich'? 'prah-kit-chi'? 'par-españo'? How did you even make that sound?"
"Heh, it's a changeling expletive."
"Huh. What's it mean?"
"Well, a rough translation would be 'lovesucker so pathetic you are not even fit to seek prey, and should probably just stay at home in the hive tending the younglings.' "
"Wow... that's... preeeetty brutal. But you're not evil?"
"No, I'm... I don't even know what I am. That's why I'm here. Protection."
"Protection? You're in jail! I came to post bail for you and they wouldn't let me! Now I see why; you're some... bug...creature thing animal bug... ...thing... species.... creature--"
"You done yet?"
"Yeah. I'll just go with bug thing."
"Right. Lyra, you're my wife. Hopefully you still are. We can get to that in a minute. Anyway, while you're taking this pretty well, how do you think the common masses will, well, what do you think they'll think of seeing a feral changeling in their town?"
"Um, they'll think you're evil?"
"Yeah, probably. What does the common pony tend to do when confronted by evil?"
"Um, run around like crazy like they're a chicken with its head cut off? Especially Pinkie Pie on Nightmare Night. Sheesh, somepony's gotta cut that mare off."
"Considering I supply about a third of Ponyville's Nightmare Night candy supply, there may be a conflict of interest there. Anyway, my point being, I don't want to cause any trouble. For ponies or for me."
"Okay, so let me try to wrap my head all loopety-doo around this. You're a changeling?"
"Let me look at my skin. Oh hey, black holey limbs! Yes, I'm pretty positive I'm a changeling."
"Thank you Captain Snark."
"You're Welcome."
"Guh. So, like, changelings tried to take over Canterlot, right?"
"Lyra, you idiot, you were there."
"Oh right, huh, I was, wasn't I. I don't really remember a lot about it though. Which reminds me, we need to talk about your freaky mind control powers. That stuff's cray."
"Don't worry, I can't do anything more than subtly influence ponies. Actually mind control is pretty high level stuff. Mostly it's just the queen who can use it."
"Have you been subtly influencing me, huh? Huh?!"
"Lyra, shush, you pull that poo on me all the time. 'Oh, Bon Bon, please can we go to the Summer Sun Celebration in Trottingham this year? If you love me, you'll go with me. Plus, think of all the business contacts you could get! It would be for your own good!' Tell me that isn't blatant manipulation."
"Heh, yeah, I gueeeess I do, don't I. That's kind of immature of me, isn't it."
"Yeah, it can get annoying."
"I'll have to work on that. But as I was saying, your queen tried to conquer Canterlot. Were... were you in on this?"
"I... uh, sorta. I knew something was going down, but I wasn't really sure what. I don't keep much contact with the hive. I'm what's been called 'put out to pasture'. I prefer the term 'My crazy days are over; I just want some peace and quiet.' "
"Ha! I'm peace and quiet?"
"Compared to waging guerilla love-warfare in the Southern Mareseposian Isles, yes, you're quite peaceful."
"Wow... I...There's a lot of stuff you haven't told me, huh."
"Yeah, sorry hun."
"Like, I always thought the voices thing was just a weird vocal tick. But now, I'm not so sure. What else are you hiding?"
"The voices are... kind of post traumatic stress condition, or syndrome, or what ever it's called. Involuntary flashbacks to different forms, I guess. Less happier forms, I might add."
"Weird. Look, sorry this is like an interrogation, but I need hours, I mean, answers."
"I understand. I'd be pretty concerned too. So, go on, ask away."
"Okay, well, that queen of yours talked about feeding on love?"
"Yeah, we do that. Except she (may she rot in Tartarus) was a big fan of doing it shadily and by force. You willingly give me love, something I am eternally grateful for."
"I feed you love? You need it to survive?"
"Yes. You keep me alive."
"Wait, so I'm like your prey?"
"Blue and orange, blue and orange, Lyra. Ponies and changelings just have... different ways of looking at things. That's all."
"I know, I know. That's gonna take time to sink in. But I mean, I'm just a food source for you? Is that all I am?"
"You're... I... yeah, that question is going to pop up a lot in the coming weeks, in households all over the country."
"And..."
"There's no easy answer. Trust me, I've thought about this a lot. Every changeling has. The closest I can get to giving you an answer is to give you another example: Does a baby give back to it's parents?"
"Well, I, uh, eventually I guess. I mean, like, ponies tend to take care of their parents when they get old, or at least throw money at a retirement facility or nursing home or something."
"Yes, if you want to take a long view of things, I suppose that's true. But what I was going for was that foals can be a pain in the rear. Yet parents put up with them in part because they bring them such great joy. Have I brought you joy, Lyra?"
"Oh my gosh, yes!"
"I'd like to hope I bring you enough happiness and joy to make it worth it. You and I are very different, but good for each other. I can be a stick in the mud, but you always brighten up my day. You are insane half the time, but I reel you in. Plus, I'm the only pony who will willingly put up with you and genuinely enjoy it."
"Hmmm, I did go through three fillyfriends, two coltfriends, and a tree before I met you."
"A tree? I don't believe you ever told me about the tree."
"Yeah, moving on, I guess I'm pretty lucky you're my mare, aren't I? You... are still a mare, right?"
"If you want to get technical, we all are."
"Weeeeird."
"Kind of. So, um, look Lyra, the big question is, do you think you could still love me?"
...
...
...
...
"Meh. Yeah, I guess."
"You guess?"
"Yeah, I guess. But you and I are having some serious talks when this all clears up, okay?"
"Definitely okay. You're pretty swell, Lyra."
"You too, bug-eyed Bon Bon. Nyah."
"Nyah? Yeah, well--"
"Mmmhnn. Woah, changeling kisses are--"
"Yeah, of course we're good kis--Mmmnh!"
"Hey, no contact! Also, two minute warning."
"Yes, Constable Waffles."
"Yes, Constable Waffles."
"Hey, don't copy me!"
"I'm not copying you. I'm copying a mare I saw in an old fashion magazine."
"Yeah. We have a lot to talk about. But you're safe, and you've succeeded in not alienating me completely, so I guess I just have one more question."
"Yes?"
"How'd you get thrown into jail, anyway?"
"Good Morning Mrs. Heartstrings. How are you today?"
"I'd like to turn myself in."
"Turn yourself in? Bon Bon, you haven't done anything wrong!"
*Fwoosh!*
"Gah! Changeling! Stay back!"
"Ughhh, Still me, Officer. Just throw me in a cell and tell Lyra I'd like to talk to her. That's all. Hey, what are you--no, no need for tranquilizer darts; I surrendered willingly. Hey, no--OW! OW OW OW OW OWwwwwwwwughghghhhhh..."
"And then I woke up here, with the magic-blocker and wing-restraints you see. Which are pretty silly, considering I specifically asked to be here."
"You knocked my wife out with tranq darts? What the heck, stall'?"
"Sorry. I kind of freaked out. Law enforcement has been on edge as of late, what with, well, Bon here's kind trying to take over our government."
"Heh, it's okay. Sort of. I'm going to have teach a lot of cultural appreciation classes in the future, aren't I?"
"Maybe, let's just focus on the present right now, okay?"
"Okay."
"Alright, time's up, ladies. Say you're goodbyes."
"Bye, Bon Bon, I love you. Mostly."
"I'm glad to hear it. You too."
"Well, that went better than I expected. Now, on to stage two of my evil plan to control Ponyville!"
"WHAT!"
"Nah, just messing with you. Chill out."
"Not funny dudette. Not funny."
