Science Is For The Mad

Prologue

Hello. My name is Professor Strangebrain, though most call me strange. I prefer Professor. Now, before you go accusing me of having a ridiculously bad name, keep in mind the writer ran out of ideas. My job is to use a teleportation spell to transport random creatures from unknown dimensions to my lab, where I will then study their behavior. The safety protocols aren't exactly safe, as I haven't a proper cell to study them in. They just roam around my house, and I'm perfectly fine with it. I study them, they try to kill me, and we're all happy.

The one thing I have to worry about is my assistants, because beginners never last long if they don't take it seriously. I usually just go it alone. Of course, the lucky mare/filly/colt/stallion makes it and either gets diagnosed with PTSD, leaves, or stays. I prefer them to stay.

Usually the tests are performed on something that seems straight out of Tartarus, but occasionally something peaceful gets sent through. We never have any idea of what's getting sent through, and by we I mean me but sometimes other ponies. The most dangerous thing I had studied to that point was some sort of scaly, small, vicious little bastard. He was bipedal and had 2 normal claws on each foot, along with 1 hooked claw, clearly designed for disembowelment.  He also had 2 dexterous arms, and his limbs protruded from his lower body. The creature was also feathery, and had glaring, yellow eyes with slits for pupils. He was a reptilian, and recognized as a "raptor".

On a brighter note, the friendliest creature I've studied was a furry little gal. She was certainly feisty at times, but still loving for about 63% of the time. She was slender, and looked almost identical to a cat. The differences were that she was golden, and had long black hair pointing off the top of her ears. She was given the name "Lemures Leo", old-pony for Goblin Lion, because of her ears.

Now onto the ponies that had criticized me of insanity and idiocy. There would be those that would constantly send me letters of concern, pretending to worry about me, or those that would threaten to call the police. I wouldn't blame them. But I was perfectly fine, right? Sure, I would seem a little iffy here and there, but I was mostly sane... mostly.

Ok, I admit, I was crazy, but still, I could take care of myself, and I never hurt anypony other than me. Ponies would ask, "What insanity drives you to such actions?" and I would answer, "The pure fascination it brings." They would then look at me like I was a rapist. I ignored the look. They just never understood the idea of discovering something new and almost completely different to the things we're used to.

Anyhow, that basically describes my time as an adult.