Equine Recovery and Rehabilitation Associationby OneUppingtonChaptersA Very Strange EntranceNew Starts and Old UkulelesThe Plane and the Pizza BoxThe Drop OffA Walk On the StreetsA Very Strange EntranceDANDELION “MPD! Hooves where I can see… them…” … Huh. Okay… I’m in a forest. … Why am I in a forest? Why am I not in Downtown Manehattan pointing my crossbow at some lowlife with a crack pipe in his mouth? Why am I instead pointing said crossbow at some old oak tree? … Well it’s certainly not going to be a threat, I’d better put my weapon back in its holster. Sorry Floret, Maybe next time. … Am I still me? I heard my voice yelling before, that was my piece, and the aura coming from it as it was floating from the air was the same yellow colour it’s always been, but that doesn’t confirm anything. I need to know I’m still Dandelion. Hopefully there’s a lake nearby for me to look at my reflecti– Why is one of my hooves wet? Oh! Because was one right behind me. Wow, my spatial awareness is better than that, surely. Then again, I swear I was in Manehattan a few seconds ago. I think it’s safe to say it has the right to go astray right now. Let’s see now… Still a unicorn, good. Facial features indicate I’m still a mare, very good. Golden-brown mane, grey coat, yellow eyes, uniform with a bit of blood on the collar (long story), and… a picture of a lion roaring in rage because somehow he got himself stuck in the ground. Yep, still Officer Dandelion. Just in a forest… … It’s a pretty forest. If I was, oh I don’t know, invited to come to such a spot instead of just appearing here with no rhyme or reason, I would totally say yes. Then again, just a few seconds ago I was in some disgusting dilapidated apartment complex where it’s clear that something bad was going down; so anything’s a step up from that. But, I should be in that complex right now. Not in a forest. My job is to protect and serve, not to point crossbows at trees and looking at my reflection at conveniently placed lakes. I need to go back to my job! I need to get back to base, and file in a report on why I somehow disappeared on duty for no apparent reason and ended up here! My job is important to me, Celestia Damnit, and no sudden teleportation is going to get me fired! … Oh right! My walkie-talkie! That’ll get me in contact to the base! Why did I not think of it sooner? “Dispatch, come in! Dispatch come in! This is Officer Dandelion, requesting assistance. Please respond.” … “I seem to have involuntarily teleported in a forest. I’m not sure where I am. Come in, Dispatch.” … Nothing. Great. At least now I don’t feel stupid for forgetting about it. Okay, so I think it’s safe to say I might be stuck here for a while, unfortunately. Better check my surroundings for some clue where I am. Or when. Actually, you know what? When first. It’ll be great if I knew the time. The sun is… right on top of me. So Princess Celestia says it’s roughly twelve. Right, let’s try to apply logic here. It was nine in the morning when I kicked the door down in Manehattan just moments before. That means I’m about three hours from there, according to time zones. Which means I’m… drowning in the ocean because there’s no place three hours ahead of the Equestrian Day Time. Okay, so logic’s out the window. I smell smoke. Must be a campfire nearby. Campfires mean campers. Okay, logic’s back. I got to find the fire, find the ponies who made the fire, ask them the way back home and maybe ask them for some lunch. I know I had my breakfast an hour ago according to logic, but that doesn’t mean I’m hungry now. I’m starving, actually. I could eat the grass, but since the time’s out of whack, maybe some other things are too; like the grass is toxic to ponies or something. Hey! I see some orange glow over there! Wow, I’m lucky. First I found a lake right behind me to check I am me, and now I’ve found some ponies in a heartbeat! Then again, that’s fair enough that I found the two so close together. A camping spot near a source of fresh water supply. Makes sense. I can get a good look of my saviours if I can just pull some of this branch which has some fabric thing on it aside. Well, I can confirm it is a campfire. I’m saved! Praise the Princess! Strange tent by this campfire, though. Not exactly like some old rag on a stick with some string. It’s seems more complicated than that. The rag seems more colourful for starters. And for some reason they found a way to make the sticks bend to make it more dome-like. Fascinating. Maybe I’m in the future. Could explain why my time measurement went astray. I wonder how- Wait. I hearing some weird sound, like something is zipping past one of the sides of the tent of the future! They are opening it! Looks to me like two… Erm… Uh… Those… Those are not ponies. I don’t know what they are, but they are not ponies. For starters, even from here I can tell they are taller than me. Then again, they seem to stand and walk on their hind legs. That could explain it. They have manes of some description. No tail though. And they seem to have saved their coats because those all I can see is skin… and clothing. Fair enough. If you remove your coat you got to replace it with something. One of them looks more naked than the other. Seems to be smaller than the other too, with a ginger, twirly manestyle, weird mounds on where I think the chest could be surrounded by some fabric-like contraption that seem to be there to keep the mounds in place… and getting really friendly to the other not-pony. Oh Cadence, please don’t tell me I caught these things in some kind of mating ritual. “Nice to know you’re feeling better about falling into the lake with your favourite shirt on yesterday.” Says the… well, I’m willing to call him the colt of this species judging by how deep his voice is. Nice to know they speak Equestrian too. That’ll help. Wait, I heard something that fitted the look of these things before. Apparently, our new princess went into a mirror and on the other side she saw things that are a bit like these and it turns out those things are us in some different dimension. Is that where I am? If so, how come I’m not one of them like what they said Princess Twilight Sparkle became? “Oh, ha ha.” Said the seemingly female one in a seemingly sarcastic manner. “It should be dry now, right?” “Yeah, sure it should be right over th-” The male looks at my direction. He sees me. This fabric that’s on the branch must have been the shorter one’s shirt. Yeah, it has to be. It could cover her, the contraption and those weird mounds. “Hey!” It’s not happy. Clearly because I am touching his friend’s shirt. Erm… what to do, what to do, what to do… This being is bigger than me and is coming this way in an angry mood… … Ah fuck it! Floret, my dear, it’s high time you get us out of this mess! “STAND BACK, YOU… YOU… WHATEVER YOU ARE!” I shout as I pull out my little friend. The thing with the mounds screamed. “Harold, the filly’s got a crossbow!” Har… old? What kind of name is…? No wait, better question; how does she know what a filly is? If this is the dimension Princess Twilight encountered, then she would have said that thing, because she wouldn’t know what I was! Maybe… Oh Sweet Luna. Is this… Is this a Planet of the Hippos situation? Are these things the dominant species and ponies are their slaves? “Okay, miss.” Says this Harold. “Take it easy. You can have whatever you want just… just don’t hurt us.” Huh. Maybe it's vice-versa and we’re the overlords. Either way, I am not letting down my guard. “Wh- who…” No, wait. Rephrase that, Dandelion. “What are you?” The two look at each other. “Oh my god, I think she just arrived.” “Well tell her, Harold! I want my top back!” Fair enough. She looks cold. “Okay! Okay!” the thing called Harold says as he turns back to me. “We’re called humans. I’m male, she’s female. Humans. My name is Harold Greenswich, this is my wife, Sue and you’re… you're not in Equestria anymore.” … What...? How...? Oh goddess, so many questions. “H-how do you know I’m from- How do you even know of Equestria?” The male named Harold looks at his female named Sue. “Sweetie,” She starts to speak. “You… You aren’t the first pony to come here. A lot of ponies somehow find their way here, the same way you did. They were just doing their routine on your world one moment and the next thing they know they’re here. No-one knows why, it just happens. Look, if you put your weapon back in the holster, we can contact some people -” “And Ponies.” Harold interupts. “Right! And ponies that’ll help you. Just put the crossbow back in the holster and we'll contact them, okay sweetie?” … Okay, these… Hoo-mangs? I think that’s what Harold called them? Anyway, I think I can trust them. Back you go, Floret. Thanks for being a great help as always. … I telekinetically pick up the shirt and give it to Sue. “Thank you” She says as she turns to her husband. “Does your mobile have some connection?” Harold picks up some small black box and looks at it. “Yeah… …I’m calling ERRA now.” Author's Note So... this is my new thing. This is sort of my first pony on earth story so please let me know what you think. New Starts and Old UkulelesDANDELION “So, how do they make them into rectangles like this? Some magic?” “A cutting machine, more likely.” Giggles Sue with a smile. “There are some food that are magically made by unicorns, but some folks get nervous about it. There’s been a few scares about side effects.” “Proven not to be true, of course, but that doesn’t stop people worrying about it. Soda?” “Please.” Harold nods as he puts down a can next to me as I take another bite out of the muesli bar. Thank Luna these two were here with these, or I would be a goner. Apparently coming to this… Urth? I think it’s what Sue called it? Anyway, apparently popping in like I did make ponies super hungry. Fair enough, what with us going through… Space? Time? Maybe a different dimension entirely? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask these ERRA guys about all this. … “Hey, so these ERRA guys that’re coming, do you know any?” “We both are from ERRA, actually!” Sue giggles, not knowing I can totally see into her top with the way she’s bending down to me. (Don’t look at the meat mounds, don’t look at the meat mounds… Darn it, I looked at the meat mounds. What is it with those things that’s making it hard to look away?) “Not around here, though. We’re both in the Manhattan branch.” Oh! Well, lucky me! Besides from the sudden change of location, everything’s coming up Dandelion tod- Wait… “MANhattan?” “Yeah…” Harold sighs as he fixes the position of his glasses with his... weird pointy things. (I’ll study up on the biology of these hoo-mangs later about those... Maybe the meat mounds too while I’m at it.) “It’s kind of weird, but for some reason there are some similarities to the pony world and this one. Place names, for instance. Manehattan there, and Manhattan here. Oatstralia, Australia. Prance, France. Ponies say the places look like each other too, which raises confusion even more.” “Yeah, I can imagine that…” That’s freaky. They don’t have puns in their place names. Well, minus Manhattan, I guess. “So, Manhattan and Manehattan are kind of the same?” “From what we heard, yeah. Good chance they’ll take you there to make it easier for you to fit in… Oooh!” Sue squeals with delight like an idea just sprang into her head. “Maybe she can move in with us?” Harold smiles with glee, hugging his wife. “That’s a great idea, Pumpkin-Butter!” He turns to me. “That way you’ll learn about humans first hand and you’ll get used to being around humans in no time!” “And I couldn’t agree more! But maybe, Mister Greenswich, I’ll take her there and you two keep enjoying your honeymoon.” The two stand up in attention as I turn behind me. “Y-yes, Mister Miff sir.” There stands a brown-skinned man with no mane what so ever, but a coat and an eye-patch that says ‘You aim anything at me, it better be able to fit into your mouth because you’ll be eating it.’ Hoof’s hovering above Floret, anyway. “No need for the crossbow, ma’am. I mean no harm. My name is Fred Miff, I am the head of the Manhattan Branch of ERRA. And you are Miss…?” “Dandelion.” Nice and short answers. Means you get to the bottom of things quicker. Fred nods. “Do you mind if I call you Miss Lion?” “I’m fine with anything, as long as you don’t call me Dandy. The last pony who did that had his face go through his own table.” This sends look my way from the married couple. “It’s hard to get respect as a MPD filly.” I shrug. “Alright, Miss Lion.” Mister Miff says with a smile that doesn’t really suit his face. “I’m guessing Harold and Sue have told you about what we do.” “Yeah. Sounds simple. Find Ponies, put them in safe homes, and make them fit into society… That about wrap it up?” He turns to Harold. “Really Harold, the ‘94 version?” Harold somehow stands even more to attention. “Decided to go for the short version before you got here, Mister Miff Sir.” “Oh, I see… Well, I’ll fill her in on the rest on the flight home.” Flight home? I never really rode by pegasi-driven chariot before. Never rode in any chariot, honestly. Good luck getting a taxi in Manehattan. Mr Miff kneels down before me. “Tell me, Miss Lion. Do you want a job as well as a helping hand?” A Job? They got a job for me in this ERRA thing? What does an organistion called the Equine Recovery and Rehabilitation Association want with somepony like me? … Well, one way to find out. “…Sure. One question though.” Rick smiles. “Is that question going to be ‘What’s a hand’?” PINEAPPLE RICE That is most definitely a certain someone’s hand. The feel of rubber onto my face can’t be found anywhere else than that certain someone’s hand. “Hey, PR! Wake up!” Well, that confirms it to be exactly who I thought it was. Doctor Macadamia, our forensic scientist. Or as everyone else in the place calls her, Maxi the friendly neighbourhood Humy. Humies are- “C’mon, PR! Wake up! I got news from the lovebirds!” News from the lovebirds from IT already? I’d better get up. As I arise from my office hammock, looking into the direction of Maxie. She’s standing on her hind legs, wearing custom built shoes that make them appear as human feet. Also makes for great sup-WOAH! *Thud* Ah, right in the muzzle! Had to go face first on my desk. Ah well, at least it wasn’t the floor this time. Ah crap. I think I broke my desk label… PINEAPPLE RICE – Yeah. Yeah I did. Where’s the other half… Ah! Here it is! - DETECTIVE Every time I see that word Detective, I go all nostalgic about the good ol’ days when I was just a ten year old mascot for ERRA and all we did was make new arrivals fit in; not the general pony-related crime fighters we are today. Hey don’t get me wrong, I love being a detective more than a poster colt, helps me use my noodle, but I sort of wish this was it used to be and have me and the rest of the crime squad go and become some other organisation. Maybe because ERRA’s always been about the care and protection of us equine immigrants. That’s the only way I can wrap my head around it. I’ll just put these halves of my desk label close together, whoever doesn't know probably won’t notice. Wait, didn’t I have something while I was… QUEENIE! “Please tell me you can see my uke and it is fine.” Queen Formosa, my ukulele was the only thing of mine from the pony world besides the shirt from my back. It’s been from our home in Ohana Islands, to Manehattan helping me get bits off strangers, to Hawaii getting cash from folks there, to Manhattan where we are today. Maxi holds my old faded baby in her surprisingly well-gripped fake hands. “Took it off you before I started poking. Thought it would be preventing a disaster waiting to happen.” “Good thinking, Maxi. Thanks.” I reply as I get handed back my Queenie. “So, how’re Sue and Harold on their honeymoon?” “Get this; they got an arrival.” She says as she signals me to walk with her on the way to get coffee. “Wow,” I say as I stagger to the door. “Babies get made that easily?” “NO! As in pony arrival! God Damn PR, how many brain cells did you lose in that pratfall?” I shake my head a little. “Well, it was right on the muzzle.” “Owch.” Says the humie as we hit the kitchen. “Anyway, apparently the filly’s a cop that got a little freaked out about the sudden change, who can blame her, so she went at them with a crossbow! Can you believe that shit happening on a honeymoon?” Now that’s a shame. Those two just want to be different form all the other honeymooners by not going to a tropical place for their honeymoon and this is what they get? Well, that’s just official, I’m making them go to Hawaii next time they’re planning a holiday. I know a few hotels I can get them in on the cheap and you don’t get crazy beings armed with weapons in the middle of a public beach! “She didn’t fire it, did she?” I say as I try and open the cookie jar. “Nah, those two got her to calm down and she’ll be on the plane back with Miff soon.” The Forensic states as she opens it up for me with her fake hands. Rick Miff? I know what that means. “Is he thinking of making her work here?” Maxi smiles. As she puts on the kettle “He even texted me to tell you she’ll be hanging round you until the lovebirds come back.” I smile. Finally a new member to the family. “So, what’s her name?” I ask as I look for the last chocolate chip. “Dandelion. Used to be an officer in Manehattan.” This made my ears prick up. “… Manehattan? She’s from Manehattan?” “Of course she is. What, you’d think Rick will somehow get someone fresh out of Trottingham down here?” “No, I get that. It’s just she’s a cop from Manehattan. Like… that show I found last week. That cop who moved to Hawaii, from Manhattan. What’s his name again?” “You are NOT going to call her Danno.” “Oh, C’mon! Please? I’m gonna be all like ‘Book him Danno!’ and the music will kick in… Come on, let me live my Hawaii 5-0 fantasy, please!” I love late night old cop show re-runs. They’re so cool! Reason why I became a detective here. Maxi isn’t into it as much as me and the face my humy friend is showing me proves it. “… Fine. Hey, do you think she’ll know me?” I ask as I finally found that cookie. “What, just because of all you did in Manehattan? I’d say so. Like I said when I came here… … You’re a bucking legend.” The Plane and the Pizza BoxDANDELION “You got to be kidding me. He’s here? This is where he got to?” Rick nods as he puts down his glass cup. “I understand he made a name for himself back in Manehattan.” “No kidding… … Because of that brat, the whole city’s gone to hell.” I can’t believe this. First this white contraption we’re in can fly without flapping its wings, very smoothly I may add, and then they tell me that he’s here. Pineapple Rice. The Ohana Tourist. That crazy little bastard floated on in to Manehattan when he was ten. After some busking for tips, he decides to do what all tourists do when they get to the city. Get a lasagna. What he didn’t expect though, is that the place he went to get the lasagna was The Mozzarella Scatter. Now, the Scatter was notoriously known for being a bit of a front for the Cinos. Cappuccino, Mochaccino, even their daughter Babyccino; every one of them and the crew they hire are the type of ponies you don’t want to mess around with. On the day Rice walked in, a deal was going down; 30,000 bits in twenty bit notes in a pizza box for a lot of rubies. The ones handing out the rubies said they will send round a pony who says was from Ohana; some guy called Banana-Berry Bash. Because you know, someone from Ohana in the city is pretty rare. Said he’ll be ordering one lasagna and when asked where he’ll be going next say “Well, I figure I hit the Statue of Harmony. I heard it’s bigger than ponies think.” So yeah, you can imagine the fucking comedy of errors. Rice walks in, asks for a lasagna. Babyccino spots the flower shirt he’s wearing, asks him where the little guy was from. Don’t know why she’d think a ten-year-old colt would get involved with illegal jewel trading, must have been a hard day at the Scatter. Anyway, the little pegasus says he’s from Ohana, she asks him for the code. He accidently says exactly what she was waiting for, so she gave him the box full of cash ‘on the house’ and sends him on his way. A few minutes later, Bash shows up and said the words that cement the Pineapple Rice as the legend everypony says he is; “Please don’t tell me you gave the money to that mother bucking colt in the flower shirt.” They try and get the bits back from the kid, but he, after realising what happened, decided “You know something? I’ll have some fun with these guys.” And had fun with them he did. For the next few weeks, Pineapple kept all of the dough, waiting for any Cino hitmen to try and take the cash off him. I don’t know for the life of me how, but he always seem to be one step ahead of them. The MPD found in the following weeks all the Cinos and their pals tied up at tourist spots with notes on them telling the cops back then who he was, why they are chasing him down and how many more are probably left. Cappucino at Ball Street, Mocha at the Celestial Empire State Building, Baby at Fun Times Square, a lot of their boys at different parts of Centrail Park; He even got Banana-Berry Bash dangling in a janitor's closet in the Statue of Harmony with a note attached reading “I think that’s all of them now. I’ll be heading in to turn the cash to you guys.” But that’s the thing. He never came. I think it’s safe to say why now. The only visible eyebrow of Mister Miff raises. “Really? We had reports that he was a city hero from Manehattan citizens before you.” “Oh sure, they say that.” I say as the stewardess opens up a bag of peanuts for me. “What they don’t realise that because of his actions, the city’s in a worse state. Nopony ever really respects the badge now because of him.” I nod as the lady leans down to puts the peanuts in front of me. (Don’t look at the meat mounds, don’t look at the meat mounds… Oh Princess H. Tap Dancing Cadence, what the buck is wrong with me?) Then I turn to Rick Miff to find him smiling again. Someone should tell him to stop that. “I guess getting upstaged by a foal vigilante really sours the reputation.” “No kiddin’. Everypony’s always asking what happened to him to this very day. Of course, we got no bucking clue, our best guess was he miscalculated how many ponies work for the Cinos and whoever was left got to him. That’s what we’ve continually said to the press anyway, but that just don’t cut it for the citizens of Manhattan; Oh buck no! That stallion I put through his table for calling me Dandy? We got him in an interview room, he was giving lip, accusing us of killing him, and so the chief of our precinct, the only one around today who was there when Pineapple Rice was active, put him through the table there.” He’s… laughing? I guess? Sounds like he’s in pain. “Hoo… God, how I know what that’s like. Anyway, you try and be nice to PR when you two are together, okay Miss Lion? Whether or not he’s a hero or just a vigilante back in Manehattan, he’s a damn good detective in Manhattan now.” “I’ll try. No promises.” … That raises a question which I deserve to ask. “Why do you even need a detective, anyway?” Rick’s eye turns to the window. “Well, besides the name, ERRA has changed… Back before it started, it was clear that ponies needed an organisation to help them. New world, starving as hell, not entirely sure if the grass is safe to eat, weird two legged beings pretty much running the place with advanced technology and these things called fingers... so the Equine Recovery and Rehabilitation Association was made. So there’s a human or pony to be there to tell them where they are, give them some food, say the grass is safe, what have you. Then the more adapted ponies got to humans and vice versa… … The more a new service is to be made. Relations between the two races have been great… mostly. I can’t deny there has been a few issues. Folks sawing off unicorn horns to make herbal medicines, unicorns using magic to try and use humans as slaves, Homicide caused by ponies, Ponicides caused by humans, you get the idea. Clearly, there needed to be a service to protect and to serve pony kind. And since we already giving the ponies help already…” “Why not let us handle it?” He points at me with his… Fin-gar… “Precisely. So, I’ve been collecting any pony I can that know how to handle themselves in a big city. Pineapple Rice definitely proved himself after all we heard about him. And I bet, Miss Lion, you can prove yourself too.” I nod. They need a cop. I’m a cop that needs a job. This sounds like the start of a beautiful relationship. “So, when do I get my badge?” His eye turns to the stewardess. “Can you please give the little pony the small box?” The stewardess nods and walks out of the room for a brief second, and returns in seconds with an incredibly fancy box. She puts it in front of me. I open the box. The contents was a badge… … Who the Tartarus is that supposed to be? PINEAPPLE RICE I can’t help to look at my badge as I stand in the elevator in my building, on the way to my apartment. Such an amazing badge. Little globe on the bottom, ERRA written in large, friendly letters in the middle and on the top… Princess Gaia. Well, not an actual princess. Not an actual being, either. Just someone ERRA made up when we got into the crime fighting business. We tell little ones that she’s the reason the world’s turning. Not true, of course. But that doesn’t stop her being pretty. Her wings pointing upwards, her horn standing strong and firm, her black hair flowing from her head down beyond her shoulders, her eyes… … Don’t have pupils. I swear she had pupils. Ah well, she’s still pretty without them. The doors open up and I step out, cramming the badge in my pocket and grab the keys to my place. I head to and open up. Home sweet home. I’d better find that spare hammock for the newbie and set it up before she gets here. … Should I move that pizza box? I mean, I like it framed up over by the bar as is, but... She might like to see it. I did say that the only two things I owned that came with me from the pony world are my uke and the shirt on my back, but I had something that I didn’t own come with me too. A pizza box full of bits. 30,000 of them, to be exact. The bits have been converted to American dollars and in the bank, waiting for the day to be reconverted and to be handed back where they return with interest. The box, however, stays with me. Man, I love the design on this thing. A small, obese chef smiling with a look of affection towards the words ‘The Mozzarella Scatter’ in bold letters. Shame that place turned out to be a mafia front. They had good lasagna. The Drop OffDANDELION Wow, these are some tall buildings. I mean, fair enough. These hoomangs are taller than us, it’s their buildings, so they make them taller to accompany them. It’s just the way everything is taller… It’s like I’m home in Manehattan but managed to go back to foalhood. … You know, it only took me a few steps from this… car? Is that right? Anyway, I noticed something about this place after only the first five steps Rick and I did away from the thing. It’s weird. Manhattan is weird. No, wait. Correction: This whole world is weird. Why am I stopping it at just this city? I should have figured that out from when he told me that this Gaia character doesn’t even exist. They had to come up with their own alicorn princess because the princesses they have, of course, are hoomangs. These princesses don’t have any wings or horns, they just look like just run-of-the-mill earth-hoomangs. And where are the unicorn and pegasis hoomangs, anyway? Sure, I see a few different ponies in the busy crowd that is pedestrian traffic in a big city, but hoomangs? No. The only difference I see is male and female, that’s it. No offence to them, but… where’s the variety? It’s bad enough that most of them are roughly the same colours. Skin-wise, anyway. I haven’t seen much besides from pink to different shades of brown around here, is that all they got? No green? No purple? I mean for fu… What the Tartarus is…? There’s a book shop. There’s a quite modern looking book shop. There’s a book shop is called ‘Twilight Sparkle’s’. Why is there a book shop called ‘Twilight Sparkle’s’? They know about Princess Twilight here? Is this actually that dimension she went to? I mean, I know I deduced before it’s probably not, but seeing a book store named after the last pony I know that made a travel to a land of two-legged beings… Maybe I’m wrong? Maybe that world and this one is one and the same? … I might need to check this with Rick. “Uh, pardon me, Mister Miff sir? But…” Rick already saw the question coming. “What? You don’t think we heard about her and her friends? Especially when ponies start businesses and named them after those fillies. There’s a Pinkie Pie fast food franchise, an Apple Jack distillery, Fluttershy pet stores, Rainbow Dash energy drink, Rarity Jewellery, and of course…” He turns to see the shop window. “Twilight Sparkle’s Book Shop, with books from the anatomy of ants to how to tell the difference between a pony-world zebra and a human-world zebra. Specialises in Pony World imports. Just in case you feel a little homesick.” “Pony World imports?” He laughs as he looks at the store, again sounding like he’s in pain. “Yeah, sometimes a pony arrives with a book on them. We make copies of those books and sell them to these guys and they give us a percentage. The money goes to ERRA’s research to what’s making ponies arrive here. Which, we hope, finds a way to connect both worlds together someday. Maybe make a two-way passage…” “You mean ERRA wants to put humans in Equestria?” “Well, there are humans who want to see the pony world.” “Why?” “Why not? I wouldn’t mind visiting the Ohana Islands. Pineapple Rice makes it sound like a great place to holiday.” I can only roll my eyes before I look into the shop window. Looks like they’re making a big deal out of… oh, that? Really? That old thing? IT’S FINALLY ARRIVED AND UPDATED! WOUNDSALT AND ~~PRINTED PAGE~~ PAGE PRESSER’S PONY WORLD PRAISED ‘THE BOYS FROM THE CORNER’ GET NOW WHILE STOCKS LAST! I can’t believe why ponies give two craps about that book. Just a compilation of poems two colts from Canterlot wrote in a magazine that went bust years ago. Bucking stupid, really. That magazine never went to Manehattan, why should we even care? … I always wanted to go to Canterlot, though. See a princess. A real princess. Not one of these earth-hoomang ones, not a false one they put on a badge for decorative sake, a real alicorn pony princess. Remind me of everything that I’ll never be… … “I’m guessing we’re a long way from that though, aren’t we? Y‘know… before the passageway?” He shrugs. “Not our department. All we can do is get comfy and wait for someone over at HQ to give us the good news.” … His head tilts down to look at me. “Maybe we should go in? They might have a few books to help you out.” I nod slowly. I feel like having a distraction to get my mind off living with Pineapple Rice for a week is a good idea. PINEAPPLE RICE “Really? Only just in Canterlot? Then why did they sell the book in Cumreign?” Tongue Twist shrugs “I dunno, butt. But’s it’s a fantastic book, boyo. I’m so ‘appy somepony c’mere with it!” I smile at the bookseller. “Okay, I’ll have one. Sounds like a good present for welcoming somepony to Earth.” The red filly nods as she moves some of her green mane to show her horn glowing white, making the book hover from the back, to the desk. “Do you want it wrapped, Pineapple?” “Please.” Man, I remember when Twisty arrived. Right in my hammock in the office! I just came back to find her dressed for her friend’s wedding, screaming in her language and absolutely drunk off her flank. Thankfully she has a passion for different languages and knew how to speak Eng- I mean, Equestrian. It’s also very lucky that she always wanted to see the sights and sounds of Manehattan too. It’s why we decided to make her stay here instead of move her to Wales. Save a plane trip, let the dream come true… Sorta. “Hey, how long has it been when you came to Earth, now?” “’Alf a year, tommorrow.” “Really?” She nods. “Henry and I are going out to that Italian restaurant down the street!” “Wow, kudos to the both of you.” “Ta!” Wow. Six months, and here she is now. Working at Twilight Sparkle’s, sharing a nice apartment with Henry, found herself falling for the lucky guy… See, stories like Twisty’s makes me so happy to be a part of ERRA. Granted, Pony Rehabilitation’s not my department, but… “Hello, PR. Fancy seeing you here.” Woah… they’re in the city already? I thought I had at least half an hour. I turn around to meet my… very tall… very intimidating… boss. I swear he wears that eye patch only to creep me the hell out. Don’t show it, Pineapple. Mama Rice didn’t raise a cowardly colt! “Evening, Mister Miff, sir! Just thought I’d buy my new friend a few books about being on Earth.” “Are you now? Funny, I thought of doing the same thing. Great minds think alike after all.” Okay, I think that was a joke. Yep! He’s… smiling! At least I think he’s smiling! Laugh! “Heh, heh, heh, heh… Good one sir!” Goddess bless him for trying, but it’s like laughing at a car crash. “Well, since you are here…” He turns to his side to reveal… A unicorn that’s clearly not happy to be here. Okay, fair enough, it’s been a hard day for her but… man, that’s a grumpy pony. Good thing I already got some incense back home, that’ll help her chill down a bit. Besides from looking not so mellow, she looks really tough! Her golden brown mane cut to chin height, an awesome cutie mark of a lion coming out of the ground, a very tidy police-mare’s uniform minus the… Is that blood on the collar? DANDELION Oh goddess, this is what ERRA has for detectives? He’s wearing a flower shirt! His leafy green mane is long enough to hit his shoulders! He’s got a ukulele! What kind of pony in a task force carries around a ukulele? Where the hell’s his crossbow? His badge? His uniform? I’ve only been here a few hours, yet I feel like I’m the one who’s the senior. “Officer Dandelion, this is Pineapple Rice. Pineapple Rice, this is Officer Dandelion.” He gets closer with his hoof out. “Aloha! Welcome to Earth!” Aloha? Oh sweet Cadence, he still thinks of himself as that Ohanan tourist from back in the day. That’s just sad. You’d think since he practically grew up here he’d get a manecut, drop the ukulele, put on a tie and actually look like he’s got a job here. Buck it, just thank him. “Thanks. So this is where you’ve been, huh? Here all this time?” “Well, most of the time.” He giggles, cocking his head at an angle. “Popped up in Hawaii, hung around there a while before Rick offered a job here.” “Hava-ee?” “Yeah! It’s pretty much the same as Ohana Islands. Seriously, I thought I was back home when it happened. Super freaky, right?” “I bet.” Well, if I got to give him credit for anything, he seems like a very energetic and kind pony. Probably not good for detective work, but if he was taking ponies under his wing like this on a frequent basis, it’ll be perfect for him. “Well, I’ll leave her to you, Rice.” bows the one-eyed human, as he turns to leave. “As of right now, Protocol 15 is in action.” “Woah, woah, woah! Sir, do you mind if I just go back an-” The boss gave the Beach-bum Pegasus a look that’ll kill a cockatrice. “R-right. Yes sir. Protocol 15.” And with that, Miff gives us a head bow as he leaves the store. I got to ask. “What’s Protocol 15?” Pineapple Rice turns to me. “It means I’m on paid leave until the Greenswiches come back from their honeymoon and we’re not allowed into the precinct unless it's an emergency." "Sounds understandable." "I guess... but I left my phone at work." Author's Note I just couldn't resist than in-joke... Also, spoilers! A Walk On the StreetsPINEAPPLE RICE “We’d better hurry before the stores close. We got to get you a few things. Maybe we can get to a friend of mine’s store, Dianne’ll stay open for us.” “Is it really necessary to buy clothes now? Surely, we could do this some other time.” “What, and have you go round the city with that blood stain on your collar? How did you get that on there, anyway?” “Long story.” My little refugee grumbles, as she once again looks at some lady in a curious manner. I might need to tell her to stop that soon. Kinda weird how she’s griping about clothes shopping. All I keep hearing from volunteers giving shelters to newly arrived ponies is how excited they get to go into a store for the first time and get their first clothes to wear in human world. Maybe it’s because they at least got some rest first, but I can’t have her wearing her old cop outfit! It’s got a blood stain on it, for crying out loud! You can’t walk around any place in a cop outfit with a blood stain on it, yet alone a big city like this! It’ll freak folks out! Heck, I bet wearing this in Manehattan would freak folks out! Speaking of freaking out, she’s seems to be on top of the situation. If anything, the entire experience of coming here just seemed to annoy her. Guess that cutie mark of a lion means she’s got a lot of courage. I can only wish to be that wilfully strong when I got here. I was pretty much afraid of every difference in this world from the world before. I’m still afraid of the other ponies. And I don’t mean other ponies like us, but the ones humans have. The ones who have always been here. When I moved to Manhattan, they had them pulling carriages in Central Park. Some still do, but we muscled in on the market there a little. They are super weird. They’re like us, but… not. Really long faces, little variety on colour, no cutie mark, usually taller than the average pony realm pony, not big on talking, and those eyes… those frickin’ eyes. I kind of prefer the bigger ones because it means I can’t see those eyes from all the way down here. Oh no, I just realised; I have to show her those things! It’s all part of the rehabilitation program! What am I going to do? What am I going to do? Just thinking about those… things are making me shiver! Don’t give out that you’re scared, Pineapple! You got to be strong in front of the rookie! DANDELION Ugh… clothes shopping… I hope this doesn’t take long, because it’s been a fucking day and a half. And I bet this is not even for the stain and he just wants a jacket that badly. He’s shivering! It’s not even that cold! “Hey, are you all right there?” “Hm?” Pineapple says as he turns around to me, still walking down the street. “Oh! Uh, yeah I’m fine. Just… just wondering about a few things I need to teach you about.” Really? Sounds like something I need to know. “What kind of things?” “Nothing much,” He shrugs. “A few things you don’t see back home, some history on how humans and equines got along, maybe some straight-up human history on the side, a lot about humans to be honest… Speaking of which; do you have any questions on the human anatomy? Because the way you’re looking at…” Shit, I knew he saw me looking at the last female that went past! “I’m not doing it on purpose, I swear!” I better fill him in on what” happening. “It’s just those… things!” “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!” He quips putting his front hooves up. “Relax. I was looking at folks too when I got here… at their hands, granted, but hey, whatever floats your boat.” … “And what the fuck do you mean by whatever floats my boat?” “Nothing! Nothing!” He laughs. Yeah, keep laughing, fucker. Be thankful that I am not in the mood to throw you into a store window. “Most of my friends are Mixers.” Mixers? Oh goddess damn it, that’s what we call those sick ponies who date griffons. Please don’t tell me there’s ponies here that do that with these hoomangs. “Does mixers mean the same it does back home?” I have to ask, hoping he doesn’t say yes. He stops dead in his tracks, and turns to look at me with, for once, not a smile. “What? What do they call them back home?” Oh goddess, he doesn’t know. That’s not as bad, but not good neither. “A pony and something not a pony…” I look around and realise were talking about something this in public. Better say this part quieter. “Get together.” He nods. “Yeah, that’s it! Good, for a moment there I thought it meant something wrong.” PINEAPPLE RICE Her face turns into a variety of emotions has her mouth emits a multiple unfinished questions. “What do you mean somethi…? How can you even…? Why would you even want to…?” These faces and questions finish with a sigh. “You know what?” She finally says, “Who the fuck am I to judge what happens here? I just arrived, I can’t go anywhere, I am not in the mood for debating ethics, the last thing I should be doing is pissing anyone off, so fuck it. If there are ponies that screw hoomangs, there are ponies that screw hoomangs. I don’t get why they screw hoomangs, but that’s their deal. To each their own and all that shit.” I can only pat my new comrade on her back. “Precisely my philosophy, Lion. But for future reference, it’s pronounced ‘humans.’ Not whatever you said.” “Humans… okay, good to know.” It’s nice to know she can put aside differences. It’s the hardest thing a newly arrived pony can do; Believe me, you have no idea how many are against mixers at first. But a while later they just shrug it off like she did right now. Kinda funny actually, because some of the ones who freak out about it the most later get into a human-pony relationship. Tongue Twist especially springs to mind. She came to me panicking when she had a dream about her and Henry. So much in fact she wanted to move in with me. Thankfully, Grimm gave her the details. Grimm’s such a smart guy, he can explain anything! Politics, Human Behaviour, Folk dancing… You know something? Grimm would be a good help handling her. I have a feeling I need help. “Speaking of mixers, I should tell you that Dianne, the lady we’re meeting? She’s married to a Griffon who works with us.” Her ears pick up. “They have griffons here?” “Well... kinda. It isn’t just ponies who just disappear out of nowhere, y’know.” That gave her a bit of a shock. “You’re saying that… anything can arrive here?” “Anything can. Ponies mostly, hence why we’re called Equine Rescue and Rehabilitation Association and not Practically Everything From Talking Horses to Apparently Not Mythical Creatures Rescue and Rehabilitation Association. PEFTHANMCRRA doesn’t have the same ring to it, anyway.” She shakes her head. “So, I’m guessing we have to calm down minotaurs who just arrived.” I nod. Everyone goes into panic stations when minotaurs come in. You'd be surprised how destructive a hungry, confused minotaur can be. “Oh, fun.” She sighs. “So pretty much my old job, minus drugs being involved.” “Well, you never know. We arrested one last week who ate some shrooms, hoping they were normal, edible mushrooms.” I joke. Judging by her face, she’s not a joking type. That’s fine. Neither is Grimm… And I know how to make him laugh. GRIMM FANDANGOTH “Uh… Sweety? Pineappple’s here.” My wife tells me. “Hmm? That’s odd. I know he has the arrival, but why would he be here now? Can’t he wait until the morning before the two go shopping?” Well, I can’t pretend I was not hoping to be torn away from the paperwork on the victims of that minotaur from last week. … Dianne’s making an unhappy look. I can only guess what it means. “The imbecile is making faces on the glass of the store again, isn’t he?” Dianne nods. God damn it, Pineapple. Just because you made me laugh ONCE with that shit… Author's Note So... The way it's formatted is different. Hoping it's better, expecting it is worse. Let me know what you think...
A Very Strange EntranceDANDELION “MPD! Hooves where I can see… them…” … Huh. Okay… I’m in a forest. … Why am I in a forest? Why am I not in Downtown Manehattan pointing my crossbow at some lowlife with a crack pipe in his mouth? Why am I instead pointing said crossbow at some old oak tree? … Well it’s certainly not going to be a threat, I’d better put my weapon back in its holster. Sorry Floret, Maybe next time. … Am I still me? I heard my voice yelling before, that was my piece, and the aura coming from it as it was floating from the air was the same yellow colour it’s always been, but that doesn’t confirm anything. I need to know I’m still Dandelion. Hopefully there’s a lake nearby for me to look at my reflecti– Why is one of my hooves wet? Oh! Because was one right behind me. Wow, my spatial awareness is better than that, surely. Then again, I swear I was in Manehattan a few seconds ago. I think it’s safe to say it has the right to go astray right now. Let’s see now… Still a unicorn, good. Facial features indicate I’m still a mare, very good. Golden-brown mane, grey coat, yellow eyes, uniform with a bit of blood on the collar (long story), and… a picture of a lion roaring in rage because somehow he got himself stuck in the ground. Yep, still Officer Dandelion. Just in a forest… … It’s a pretty forest. If I was, oh I don’t know, invited to come to such a spot instead of just appearing here with no rhyme or reason, I would totally say yes. Then again, just a few seconds ago I was in some disgusting dilapidated apartment complex where it’s clear that something bad was going down; so anything’s a step up from that. But, I should be in that complex right now. Not in a forest. My job is to protect and serve, not to point crossbows at trees and looking at my reflection at conveniently placed lakes. I need to go back to my job! I need to get back to base, and file in a report on why I somehow disappeared on duty for no apparent reason and ended up here! My job is important to me, Celestia Damnit, and no sudden teleportation is going to get me fired! … Oh right! My walkie-talkie! That’ll get me in contact to the base! Why did I not think of it sooner? “Dispatch, come in! Dispatch come in! This is Officer Dandelion, requesting assistance. Please respond.” … “I seem to have involuntarily teleported in a forest. I’m not sure where I am. Come in, Dispatch.” … Nothing. Great. At least now I don’t feel stupid for forgetting about it. Okay, so I think it’s safe to say I might be stuck here for a while, unfortunately. Better check my surroundings for some clue where I am. Or when. Actually, you know what? When first. It’ll be great if I knew the time. The sun is… right on top of me. So Princess Celestia says it’s roughly twelve. Right, let’s try to apply logic here. It was nine in the morning when I kicked the door down in Manehattan just moments before. That means I’m about three hours from there, according to time zones. Which means I’m… drowning in the ocean because there’s no place three hours ahead of the Equestrian Day Time. Okay, so logic’s out the window. I smell smoke. Must be a campfire nearby. Campfires mean campers. Okay, logic’s back. I got to find the fire, find the ponies who made the fire, ask them the way back home and maybe ask them for some lunch. I know I had my breakfast an hour ago according to logic, but that doesn’t mean I’m hungry now. I’m starving, actually. I could eat the grass, but since the time’s out of whack, maybe some other things are too; like the grass is toxic to ponies or something. Hey! I see some orange glow over there! Wow, I’m lucky. First I found a lake right behind me to check I am me, and now I’ve found some ponies in a heartbeat! Then again, that’s fair enough that I found the two so close together. A camping spot near a source of fresh water supply. Makes sense. I can get a good look of my saviours if I can just pull some of this branch which has some fabric thing on it aside. Well, I can confirm it is a campfire. I’m saved! Praise the Princess! Strange tent by this campfire, though. Not exactly like some old rag on a stick with some string. It’s seems more complicated than that. The rag seems more colourful for starters. And for some reason they found a way to make the sticks bend to make it more dome-like. Fascinating. Maybe I’m in the future. Could explain why my time measurement went astray. I wonder how- Wait. I hearing some weird sound, like something is zipping past one of the sides of the tent of the future! They are opening it! Looks to me like two… Erm… Uh… Those… Those are not ponies. I don’t know what they are, but they are not ponies. For starters, even from here I can tell they are taller than me. Then again, they seem to stand and walk on their hind legs. That could explain it. They have manes of some description. No tail though. And they seem to have saved their coats because those all I can see is skin… and clothing. Fair enough. If you remove your coat you got to replace it with something. One of them looks more naked than the other. Seems to be smaller than the other too, with a ginger, twirly manestyle, weird mounds on where I think the chest could be surrounded by some fabric-like contraption that seem to be there to keep the mounds in place… and getting really friendly to the other not-pony. Oh Cadence, please don’t tell me I caught these things in some kind of mating ritual. “Nice to know you’re feeling better about falling into the lake with your favourite shirt on yesterday.” Says the… well, I’m willing to call him the colt of this species judging by how deep his voice is. Nice to know they speak Equestrian too. That’ll help. Wait, I heard something that fitted the look of these things before. Apparently, our new princess went into a mirror and on the other side she saw things that are a bit like these and it turns out those things are us in some different dimension. Is that where I am? If so, how come I’m not one of them like what they said Princess Twilight Sparkle became? “Oh, ha ha.” Said the seemingly female one in a seemingly sarcastic manner. “It should be dry now, right?” “Yeah, sure it should be right over th-” The male looks at my direction. He sees me. This fabric that’s on the branch must have been the shorter one’s shirt. Yeah, it has to be. It could cover her, the contraption and those weird mounds. “Hey!” It’s not happy. Clearly because I am touching his friend’s shirt. Erm… what to do, what to do, what to do… This being is bigger than me and is coming this way in an angry mood… … Ah fuck it! Floret, my dear, it’s high time you get us out of this mess! “STAND BACK, YOU… YOU… WHATEVER YOU ARE!” I shout as I pull out my little friend. The thing with the mounds screamed. “Harold, the filly’s got a crossbow!” Har… old? What kind of name is…? No wait, better question; how does she know what a filly is? If this is the dimension Princess Twilight encountered, then she would have said that thing, because she wouldn’t know what I was! Maybe… Oh Sweet Luna. Is this… Is this a Planet of the Hippos situation? Are these things the dominant species and ponies are their slaves? “Okay, miss.” Says this Harold. “Take it easy. You can have whatever you want just… just don’t hurt us.” Huh. Maybe it's vice-versa and we’re the overlords. Either way, I am not letting down my guard. “Wh- who…” No, wait. Rephrase that, Dandelion. “What are you?” The two look at each other. “Oh my god, I think she just arrived.” “Well tell her, Harold! I want my top back!” Fair enough. She looks cold. “Okay! Okay!” the thing called Harold says as he turns back to me. “We’re called humans. I’m male, she’s female. Humans. My name is Harold Greenswich, this is my wife, Sue and you’re… you're not in Equestria anymore.” … What...? How...? Oh goddess, so many questions. “H-how do you know I’m from- How do you even know of Equestria?” The male named Harold looks at his female named Sue. “Sweetie,” She starts to speak. “You… You aren’t the first pony to come here. A lot of ponies somehow find their way here, the same way you did. They were just doing their routine on your world one moment and the next thing they know they’re here. No-one knows why, it just happens. Look, if you put your weapon back in the holster, we can contact some people -” “And Ponies.” Harold interupts. “Right! And ponies that’ll help you. Just put the crossbow back in the holster and we'll contact them, okay sweetie?” … Okay, these… Hoo-mangs? I think that’s what Harold called them? Anyway, I think I can trust them. Back you go, Floret. Thanks for being a great help as always. … I telekinetically pick up the shirt and give it to Sue. “Thank you” She says as she turns to her husband. “Does your mobile have some connection?” Harold picks up some small black box and looks at it. “Yeah… …I’m calling ERRA now.” Author's Note So... this is my new thing. This is sort of my first pony on earth story so please let me know what you think.
New Starts and Old UkulelesDANDELION “So, how do they make them into rectangles like this? Some magic?” “A cutting machine, more likely.” Giggles Sue with a smile. “There are some food that are magically made by unicorns, but some folks get nervous about it. There’s been a few scares about side effects.” “Proven not to be true, of course, but that doesn’t stop people worrying about it. Soda?” “Please.” Harold nods as he puts down a can next to me as I take another bite out of the muesli bar. Thank Luna these two were here with these, or I would be a goner. Apparently coming to this… Urth? I think it’s what Sue called it? Anyway, apparently popping in like I did make ponies super hungry. Fair enough, what with us going through… Space? Time? Maybe a different dimension entirely? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask these ERRA guys about all this. … “Hey, so these ERRA guys that’re coming, do you know any?” “We both are from ERRA, actually!” Sue giggles, not knowing I can totally see into her top with the way she’s bending down to me. (Don’t look at the meat mounds, don’t look at the meat mounds… Darn it, I looked at the meat mounds. What is it with those things that’s making it hard to look away?) “Not around here, though. We’re both in the Manhattan branch.” Oh! Well, lucky me! Besides from the sudden change of location, everything’s coming up Dandelion tod- Wait… “MANhattan?” “Yeah…” Harold sighs as he fixes the position of his glasses with his... weird pointy things. (I’ll study up on the biology of these hoo-mangs later about those... Maybe the meat mounds too while I’m at it.) “It’s kind of weird, but for some reason there are some similarities to the pony world and this one. Place names, for instance. Manehattan there, and Manhattan here. Oatstralia, Australia. Prance, France. Ponies say the places look like each other too, which raises confusion even more.” “Yeah, I can imagine that…” That’s freaky. They don’t have puns in their place names. Well, minus Manhattan, I guess. “So, Manhattan and Manehattan are kind of the same?” “From what we heard, yeah. Good chance they’ll take you there to make it easier for you to fit in… Oooh!” Sue squeals with delight like an idea just sprang into her head. “Maybe she can move in with us?” Harold smiles with glee, hugging his wife. “That’s a great idea, Pumpkin-Butter!” He turns to me. “That way you’ll learn about humans first hand and you’ll get used to being around humans in no time!” “And I couldn’t agree more! But maybe, Mister Greenswich, I’ll take her there and you two keep enjoying your honeymoon.” The two stand up in attention as I turn behind me. “Y-yes, Mister Miff sir.” There stands a brown-skinned man with no mane what so ever, but a coat and an eye-patch that says ‘You aim anything at me, it better be able to fit into your mouth because you’ll be eating it.’ Hoof’s hovering above Floret, anyway. “No need for the crossbow, ma’am. I mean no harm. My name is Fred Miff, I am the head of the Manhattan Branch of ERRA. And you are Miss…?” “Dandelion.” Nice and short answers. Means you get to the bottom of things quicker. Fred nods. “Do you mind if I call you Miss Lion?” “I’m fine with anything, as long as you don’t call me Dandy. The last pony who did that had his face go through his own table.” This sends look my way from the married couple. “It’s hard to get respect as a MPD filly.” I shrug. “Alright, Miss Lion.” Mister Miff says with a smile that doesn’t really suit his face. “I’m guessing Harold and Sue have told you about what we do.” “Yeah. Sounds simple. Find Ponies, put them in safe homes, and make them fit into society… That about wrap it up?” He turns to Harold. “Really Harold, the ‘94 version?” Harold somehow stands even more to attention. “Decided to go for the short version before you got here, Mister Miff Sir.” “Oh, I see… Well, I’ll fill her in on the rest on the flight home.” Flight home? I never really rode by pegasi-driven chariot before. Never rode in any chariot, honestly. Good luck getting a taxi in Manehattan. Mr Miff kneels down before me. “Tell me, Miss Lion. Do you want a job as well as a helping hand?” A Job? They got a job for me in this ERRA thing? What does an organistion called the Equine Recovery and Rehabilitation Association want with somepony like me? … Well, one way to find out. “…Sure. One question though.” Rick smiles. “Is that question going to be ‘What’s a hand’?” PINEAPPLE RICE That is most definitely a certain someone’s hand. The feel of rubber onto my face can’t be found anywhere else than that certain someone’s hand. “Hey, PR! Wake up!” Well, that confirms it to be exactly who I thought it was. Doctor Macadamia, our forensic scientist. Or as everyone else in the place calls her, Maxi the friendly neighbourhood Humy. Humies are- “C’mon, PR! Wake up! I got news from the lovebirds!” News from the lovebirds from IT already? I’d better get up. As I arise from my office hammock, looking into the direction of Maxie. She’s standing on her hind legs, wearing custom built shoes that make them appear as human feet. Also makes for great sup-WOAH! *Thud* Ah, right in the muzzle! Had to go face first on my desk. Ah well, at least it wasn’t the floor this time. Ah crap. I think I broke my desk label… PINEAPPLE RICE – Yeah. Yeah I did. Where’s the other half… Ah! Here it is! - DETECTIVE Every time I see that word Detective, I go all nostalgic about the good ol’ days when I was just a ten year old mascot for ERRA and all we did was make new arrivals fit in; not the general pony-related crime fighters we are today. Hey don’t get me wrong, I love being a detective more than a poster colt, helps me use my noodle, but I sort of wish this was it used to be and have me and the rest of the crime squad go and become some other organisation. Maybe because ERRA’s always been about the care and protection of us equine immigrants. That’s the only way I can wrap my head around it. I’ll just put these halves of my desk label close together, whoever doesn't know probably won’t notice. Wait, didn’t I have something while I was… QUEENIE! “Please tell me you can see my uke and it is fine.” Queen Formosa, my ukulele was the only thing of mine from the pony world besides the shirt from my back. It’s been from our home in Ohana Islands, to Manehattan helping me get bits off strangers, to Hawaii getting cash from folks there, to Manhattan where we are today. Maxi holds my old faded baby in her surprisingly well-gripped fake hands. “Took it off you before I started poking. Thought it would be preventing a disaster waiting to happen.” “Good thinking, Maxi. Thanks.” I reply as I get handed back my Queenie. “So, how’re Sue and Harold on their honeymoon?” “Get this; they got an arrival.” She says as she signals me to walk with her on the way to get coffee. “Wow,” I say as I stagger to the door. “Babies get made that easily?” “NO! As in pony arrival! God Damn PR, how many brain cells did you lose in that pratfall?” I shake my head a little. “Well, it was right on the muzzle.” “Owch.” Says the humie as we hit the kitchen. “Anyway, apparently the filly’s a cop that got a little freaked out about the sudden change, who can blame her, so she went at them with a crossbow! Can you believe that shit happening on a honeymoon?” Now that’s a shame. Those two just want to be different form all the other honeymooners by not going to a tropical place for their honeymoon and this is what they get? Well, that’s just official, I’m making them go to Hawaii next time they’re planning a holiday. I know a few hotels I can get them in on the cheap and you don’t get crazy beings armed with weapons in the middle of a public beach! “She didn’t fire it, did she?” I say as I try and open the cookie jar. “Nah, those two got her to calm down and she’ll be on the plane back with Miff soon.” The Forensic states as she opens it up for me with her fake hands. Rick Miff? I know what that means. “Is he thinking of making her work here?” Maxi smiles. As she puts on the kettle “He even texted me to tell you she’ll be hanging round you until the lovebirds come back.” I smile. Finally a new member to the family. “So, what’s her name?” I ask as I look for the last chocolate chip. “Dandelion. Used to be an officer in Manehattan.” This made my ears prick up. “… Manehattan? She’s from Manehattan?” “Of course she is. What, you’d think Rick will somehow get someone fresh out of Trottingham down here?” “No, I get that. It’s just she’s a cop from Manehattan. Like… that show I found last week. That cop who moved to Hawaii, from Manhattan. What’s his name again?” “You are NOT going to call her Danno.” “Oh, C’mon! Please? I’m gonna be all like ‘Book him Danno!’ and the music will kick in… Come on, let me live my Hawaii 5-0 fantasy, please!” I love late night old cop show re-runs. They’re so cool! Reason why I became a detective here. Maxi isn’t into it as much as me and the face my humy friend is showing me proves it. “… Fine. Hey, do you think she’ll know me?” I ask as I finally found that cookie. “What, just because of all you did in Manehattan? I’d say so. Like I said when I came here… … You’re a bucking legend.”
The Plane and the Pizza BoxDANDELION “You got to be kidding me. He’s here? This is where he got to?” Rick nods as he puts down his glass cup. “I understand he made a name for himself back in Manehattan.” “No kidding… … Because of that brat, the whole city’s gone to hell.” I can’t believe this. First this white contraption we’re in can fly without flapping its wings, very smoothly I may add, and then they tell me that he’s here. Pineapple Rice. The Ohana Tourist. That crazy little bastard floated on in to Manehattan when he was ten. After some busking for tips, he decides to do what all tourists do when they get to the city. Get a lasagna. What he didn’t expect though, is that the place he went to get the lasagna was The Mozzarella Scatter. Now, the Scatter was notoriously known for being a bit of a front for the Cinos. Cappuccino, Mochaccino, even their daughter Babyccino; every one of them and the crew they hire are the type of ponies you don’t want to mess around with. On the day Rice walked in, a deal was going down; 30,000 bits in twenty bit notes in a pizza box for a lot of rubies. The ones handing out the rubies said they will send round a pony who says was from Ohana; some guy called Banana-Berry Bash. Because you know, someone from Ohana in the city is pretty rare. Said he’ll be ordering one lasagna and when asked where he’ll be going next say “Well, I figure I hit the Statue of Harmony. I heard it’s bigger than ponies think.” So yeah, you can imagine the fucking comedy of errors. Rice walks in, asks for a lasagna. Babyccino spots the flower shirt he’s wearing, asks him where the little guy was from. Don’t know why she’d think a ten-year-old colt would get involved with illegal jewel trading, must have been a hard day at the Scatter. Anyway, the little pegasus says he’s from Ohana, she asks him for the code. He accidently says exactly what she was waiting for, so she gave him the box full of cash ‘on the house’ and sends him on his way. A few minutes later, Bash shows up and said the words that cement the Pineapple Rice as the legend everypony says he is; “Please don’t tell me you gave the money to that mother bucking colt in the flower shirt.” They try and get the bits back from the kid, but he, after realising what happened, decided “You know something? I’ll have some fun with these guys.” And had fun with them he did. For the next few weeks, Pineapple kept all of the dough, waiting for any Cino hitmen to try and take the cash off him. I don’t know for the life of me how, but he always seem to be one step ahead of them. The MPD found in the following weeks all the Cinos and their pals tied up at tourist spots with notes on them telling the cops back then who he was, why they are chasing him down and how many more are probably left. Cappucino at Ball Street, Mocha at the Celestial Empire State Building, Baby at Fun Times Square, a lot of their boys at different parts of Centrail Park; He even got Banana-Berry Bash dangling in a janitor's closet in the Statue of Harmony with a note attached reading “I think that’s all of them now. I’ll be heading in to turn the cash to you guys.” But that’s the thing. He never came. I think it’s safe to say why now. The only visible eyebrow of Mister Miff raises. “Really? We had reports that he was a city hero from Manehattan citizens before you.” “Oh sure, they say that.” I say as the stewardess opens up a bag of peanuts for me. “What they don’t realise that because of his actions, the city’s in a worse state. Nopony ever really respects the badge now because of him.” I nod as the lady leans down to puts the peanuts in front of me. (Don’t look at the meat mounds, don’t look at the meat mounds… Oh Princess H. Tap Dancing Cadence, what the buck is wrong with me?) Then I turn to Rick Miff to find him smiling again. Someone should tell him to stop that. “I guess getting upstaged by a foal vigilante really sours the reputation.” “No kiddin’. Everypony’s always asking what happened to him to this very day. Of course, we got no bucking clue, our best guess was he miscalculated how many ponies work for the Cinos and whoever was left got to him. That’s what we’ve continually said to the press anyway, but that just don’t cut it for the citizens of Manhattan; Oh buck no! That stallion I put through his table for calling me Dandy? We got him in an interview room, he was giving lip, accusing us of killing him, and so the chief of our precinct, the only one around today who was there when Pineapple Rice was active, put him through the table there.” He’s… laughing? I guess? Sounds like he’s in pain. “Hoo… God, how I know what that’s like. Anyway, you try and be nice to PR when you two are together, okay Miss Lion? Whether or not he’s a hero or just a vigilante back in Manehattan, he’s a damn good detective in Manhattan now.” “I’ll try. No promises.” … That raises a question which I deserve to ask. “Why do you even need a detective, anyway?” Rick’s eye turns to the window. “Well, besides the name, ERRA has changed… Back before it started, it was clear that ponies needed an organisation to help them. New world, starving as hell, not entirely sure if the grass is safe to eat, weird two legged beings pretty much running the place with advanced technology and these things called fingers... so the Equine Recovery and Rehabilitation Association was made. So there’s a human or pony to be there to tell them where they are, give them some food, say the grass is safe, what have you. Then the more adapted ponies got to humans and vice versa… … The more a new service is to be made. Relations between the two races have been great… mostly. I can’t deny there has been a few issues. Folks sawing off unicorn horns to make herbal medicines, unicorns using magic to try and use humans as slaves, Homicide caused by ponies, Ponicides caused by humans, you get the idea. Clearly, there needed to be a service to protect and to serve pony kind. And since we already giving the ponies help already…” “Why not let us handle it?” He points at me with his… Fin-gar… “Precisely. So, I’ve been collecting any pony I can that know how to handle themselves in a big city. Pineapple Rice definitely proved himself after all we heard about him. And I bet, Miss Lion, you can prove yourself too.” I nod. They need a cop. I’m a cop that needs a job. This sounds like the start of a beautiful relationship. “So, when do I get my badge?” His eye turns to the stewardess. “Can you please give the little pony the small box?” The stewardess nods and walks out of the room for a brief second, and returns in seconds with an incredibly fancy box. She puts it in front of me. I open the box. The contents was a badge… … Who the Tartarus is that supposed to be? PINEAPPLE RICE I can’t help to look at my badge as I stand in the elevator in my building, on the way to my apartment. Such an amazing badge. Little globe on the bottom, ERRA written in large, friendly letters in the middle and on the top… Princess Gaia. Well, not an actual princess. Not an actual being, either. Just someone ERRA made up when we got into the crime fighting business. We tell little ones that she’s the reason the world’s turning. Not true, of course. But that doesn’t stop her being pretty. Her wings pointing upwards, her horn standing strong and firm, her black hair flowing from her head down beyond her shoulders, her eyes… … Don’t have pupils. I swear she had pupils. Ah well, she’s still pretty without them. The doors open up and I step out, cramming the badge in my pocket and grab the keys to my place. I head to and open up. Home sweet home. I’d better find that spare hammock for the newbie and set it up before she gets here. … Should I move that pizza box? I mean, I like it framed up over by the bar as is, but... She might like to see it. I did say that the only two things I owned that came with me from the pony world are my uke and the shirt on my back, but I had something that I didn’t own come with me too. A pizza box full of bits. 30,000 of them, to be exact. The bits have been converted to American dollars and in the bank, waiting for the day to be reconverted and to be handed back where they return with interest. The box, however, stays with me. Man, I love the design on this thing. A small, obese chef smiling with a look of affection towards the words ‘The Mozzarella Scatter’ in bold letters. Shame that place turned out to be a mafia front. They had good lasagna.
The Drop OffDANDELION Wow, these are some tall buildings. I mean, fair enough. These hoomangs are taller than us, it’s their buildings, so they make them taller to accompany them. It’s just the way everything is taller… It’s like I’m home in Manehattan but managed to go back to foalhood. … You know, it only took me a few steps from this… car? Is that right? Anyway, I noticed something about this place after only the first five steps Rick and I did away from the thing. It’s weird. Manhattan is weird. No, wait. Correction: This whole world is weird. Why am I stopping it at just this city? I should have figured that out from when he told me that this Gaia character doesn’t even exist. They had to come up with their own alicorn princess because the princesses they have, of course, are hoomangs. These princesses don’t have any wings or horns, they just look like just run-of-the-mill earth-hoomangs. And where are the unicorn and pegasis hoomangs, anyway? Sure, I see a few different ponies in the busy crowd that is pedestrian traffic in a big city, but hoomangs? No. The only difference I see is male and female, that’s it. No offence to them, but… where’s the variety? It’s bad enough that most of them are roughly the same colours. Skin-wise, anyway. I haven’t seen much besides from pink to different shades of brown around here, is that all they got? No green? No purple? I mean for fu… What the Tartarus is…? There’s a book shop. There’s a quite modern looking book shop. There’s a book shop is called ‘Twilight Sparkle’s’. Why is there a book shop called ‘Twilight Sparkle’s’? They know about Princess Twilight here? Is this actually that dimension she went to? I mean, I know I deduced before it’s probably not, but seeing a book store named after the last pony I know that made a travel to a land of two-legged beings… Maybe I’m wrong? Maybe that world and this one is one and the same? … I might need to check this with Rick. “Uh, pardon me, Mister Miff sir? But…” Rick already saw the question coming. “What? You don’t think we heard about her and her friends? Especially when ponies start businesses and named them after those fillies. There’s a Pinkie Pie fast food franchise, an Apple Jack distillery, Fluttershy pet stores, Rainbow Dash energy drink, Rarity Jewellery, and of course…” He turns to see the shop window. “Twilight Sparkle’s Book Shop, with books from the anatomy of ants to how to tell the difference between a pony-world zebra and a human-world zebra. Specialises in Pony World imports. Just in case you feel a little homesick.” “Pony World imports?” He laughs as he looks at the store, again sounding like he’s in pain. “Yeah, sometimes a pony arrives with a book on them. We make copies of those books and sell them to these guys and they give us a percentage. The money goes to ERRA’s research to what’s making ponies arrive here. Which, we hope, finds a way to connect both worlds together someday. Maybe make a two-way passage…” “You mean ERRA wants to put humans in Equestria?” “Well, there are humans who want to see the pony world.” “Why?” “Why not? I wouldn’t mind visiting the Ohana Islands. Pineapple Rice makes it sound like a great place to holiday.” I can only roll my eyes before I look into the shop window. Looks like they’re making a big deal out of… oh, that? Really? That old thing? IT’S FINALLY ARRIVED AND UPDATED! WOUNDSALT AND ~~PRINTED PAGE~~ PAGE PRESSER’S PONY WORLD PRAISED ‘THE BOYS FROM THE CORNER’ GET NOW WHILE STOCKS LAST! I can’t believe why ponies give two craps about that book. Just a compilation of poems two colts from Canterlot wrote in a magazine that went bust years ago. Bucking stupid, really. That magazine never went to Manehattan, why should we even care? … I always wanted to go to Canterlot, though. See a princess. A real princess. Not one of these earth-hoomang ones, not a false one they put on a badge for decorative sake, a real alicorn pony princess. Remind me of everything that I’ll never be… … “I’m guessing we’re a long way from that though, aren’t we? Y‘know… before the passageway?” He shrugs. “Not our department. All we can do is get comfy and wait for someone over at HQ to give us the good news.” … His head tilts down to look at me. “Maybe we should go in? They might have a few books to help you out.” I nod slowly. I feel like having a distraction to get my mind off living with Pineapple Rice for a week is a good idea. PINEAPPLE RICE “Really? Only just in Canterlot? Then why did they sell the book in Cumreign?” Tongue Twist shrugs “I dunno, butt. But’s it’s a fantastic book, boyo. I’m so ‘appy somepony c’mere with it!” I smile at the bookseller. “Okay, I’ll have one. Sounds like a good present for welcoming somepony to Earth.” The red filly nods as she moves some of her green mane to show her horn glowing white, making the book hover from the back, to the desk. “Do you want it wrapped, Pineapple?” “Please.” Man, I remember when Twisty arrived. Right in my hammock in the office! I just came back to find her dressed for her friend’s wedding, screaming in her language and absolutely drunk off her flank. Thankfully she has a passion for different languages and knew how to speak Eng- I mean, Equestrian. It’s also very lucky that she always wanted to see the sights and sounds of Manehattan too. It’s why we decided to make her stay here instead of move her to Wales. Save a plane trip, let the dream come true… Sorta. “Hey, how long has it been when you came to Earth, now?” “’Alf a year, tommorrow.” “Really?” She nods. “Henry and I are going out to that Italian restaurant down the street!” “Wow, kudos to the both of you.” “Ta!” Wow. Six months, and here she is now. Working at Twilight Sparkle’s, sharing a nice apartment with Henry, found herself falling for the lucky guy… See, stories like Twisty’s makes me so happy to be a part of ERRA. Granted, Pony Rehabilitation’s not my department, but… “Hello, PR. Fancy seeing you here.” Woah… they’re in the city already? I thought I had at least half an hour. I turn around to meet my… very tall… very intimidating… boss. I swear he wears that eye patch only to creep me the hell out. Don’t show it, Pineapple. Mama Rice didn’t raise a cowardly colt! “Evening, Mister Miff, sir! Just thought I’d buy my new friend a few books about being on Earth.” “Are you now? Funny, I thought of doing the same thing. Great minds think alike after all.” Okay, I think that was a joke. Yep! He’s… smiling! At least I think he’s smiling! Laugh! “Heh, heh, heh, heh… Good one sir!” Goddess bless him for trying, but it’s like laughing at a car crash. “Well, since you are here…” He turns to his side to reveal… A unicorn that’s clearly not happy to be here. Okay, fair enough, it’s been a hard day for her but… man, that’s a grumpy pony. Good thing I already got some incense back home, that’ll help her chill down a bit. Besides from looking not so mellow, she looks really tough! Her golden brown mane cut to chin height, an awesome cutie mark of a lion coming out of the ground, a very tidy police-mare’s uniform minus the… Is that blood on the collar? DANDELION Oh goddess, this is what ERRA has for detectives? He’s wearing a flower shirt! His leafy green mane is long enough to hit his shoulders! He’s got a ukulele! What kind of pony in a task force carries around a ukulele? Where the hell’s his crossbow? His badge? His uniform? I’ve only been here a few hours, yet I feel like I’m the one who’s the senior. “Officer Dandelion, this is Pineapple Rice. Pineapple Rice, this is Officer Dandelion.” He gets closer with his hoof out. “Aloha! Welcome to Earth!” Aloha? Oh sweet Cadence, he still thinks of himself as that Ohanan tourist from back in the day. That’s just sad. You’d think since he practically grew up here he’d get a manecut, drop the ukulele, put on a tie and actually look like he’s got a job here. Buck it, just thank him. “Thanks. So this is where you’ve been, huh? Here all this time?” “Well, most of the time.” He giggles, cocking his head at an angle. “Popped up in Hawaii, hung around there a while before Rick offered a job here.” “Hava-ee?” “Yeah! It’s pretty much the same as Ohana Islands. Seriously, I thought I was back home when it happened. Super freaky, right?” “I bet.” Well, if I got to give him credit for anything, he seems like a very energetic and kind pony. Probably not good for detective work, but if he was taking ponies under his wing like this on a frequent basis, it’ll be perfect for him. “Well, I’ll leave her to you, Rice.” bows the one-eyed human, as he turns to leave. “As of right now, Protocol 15 is in action.” “Woah, woah, woah! Sir, do you mind if I just go back an-” The boss gave the Beach-bum Pegasus a look that’ll kill a cockatrice. “R-right. Yes sir. Protocol 15.” And with that, Miff gives us a head bow as he leaves the store. I got to ask. “What’s Protocol 15?” Pineapple Rice turns to me. “It means I’m on paid leave until the Greenswiches come back from their honeymoon and we’re not allowed into the precinct unless it's an emergency." "Sounds understandable." "I guess... but I left my phone at work." Author's Note I just couldn't resist than in-joke... Also, spoilers!
A Walk On the StreetsPINEAPPLE RICE “We’d better hurry before the stores close. We got to get you a few things. Maybe we can get to a friend of mine’s store, Dianne’ll stay open for us.” “Is it really necessary to buy clothes now? Surely, we could do this some other time.” “What, and have you go round the city with that blood stain on your collar? How did you get that on there, anyway?” “Long story.” My little refugee grumbles, as she once again looks at some lady in a curious manner. I might need to tell her to stop that soon. Kinda weird how she’s griping about clothes shopping. All I keep hearing from volunteers giving shelters to newly arrived ponies is how excited they get to go into a store for the first time and get their first clothes to wear in human world. Maybe it’s because they at least got some rest first, but I can’t have her wearing her old cop outfit! It’s got a blood stain on it, for crying out loud! You can’t walk around any place in a cop outfit with a blood stain on it, yet alone a big city like this! It’ll freak folks out! Heck, I bet wearing this in Manehattan would freak folks out! Speaking of freaking out, she’s seems to be on top of the situation. If anything, the entire experience of coming here just seemed to annoy her. Guess that cutie mark of a lion means she’s got a lot of courage. I can only wish to be that wilfully strong when I got here. I was pretty much afraid of every difference in this world from the world before. I’m still afraid of the other ponies. And I don’t mean other ponies like us, but the ones humans have. The ones who have always been here. When I moved to Manhattan, they had them pulling carriages in Central Park. Some still do, but we muscled in on the market there a little. They are super weird. They’re like us, but… not. Really long faces, little variety on colour, no cutie mark, usually taller than the average pony realm pony, not big on talking, and those eyes… those frickin’ eyes. I kind of prefer the bigger ones because it means I can’t see those eyes from all the way down here. Oh no, I just realised; I have to show her those things! It’s all part of the rehabilitation program! What am I going to do? What am I going to do? Just thinking about those… things are making me shiver! Don’t give out that you’re scared, Pineapple! You got to be strong in front of the rookie! DANDELION Ugh… clothes shopping… I hope this doesn’t take long, because it’s been a fucking day and a half. And I bet this is not even for the stain and he just wants a jacket that badly. He’s shivering! It’s not even that cold! “Hey, are you all right there?” “Hm?” Pineapple says as he turns around to me, still walking down the street. “Oh! Uh, yeah I’m fine. Just… just wondering about a few things I need to teach you about.” Really? Sounds like something I need to know. “What kind of things?” “Nothing much,” He shrugs. “A few things you don’t see back home, some history on how humans and equines got along, maybe some straight-up human history on the side, a lot about humans to be honest… Speaking of which; do you have any questions on the human anatomy? Because the way you’re looking at…” Shit, I knew he saw me looking at the last female that went past! “I’m not doing it on purpose, I swear!” I better fill him in on what” happening. “It’s just those… things!” “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!” He quips putting his front hooves up. “Relax. I was looking at folks too when I got here… at their hands, granted, but hey, whatever floats your boat.” … “And what the fuck do you mean by whatever floats my boat?” “Nothing! Nothing!” He laughs. Yeah, keep laughing, fucker. Be thankful that I am not in the mood to throw you into a store window. “Most of my friends are Mixers.” Mixers? Oh goddess damn it, that’s what we call those sick ponies who date griffons. Please don’t tell me there’s ponies here that do that with these hoomangs. “Does mixers mean the same it does back home?” I have to ask, hoping he doesn’t say yes. He stops dead in his tracks, and turns to look at me with, for once, not a smile. “What? What do they call them back home?” Oh goddess, he doesn’t know. That’s not as bad, but not good neither. “A pony and something not a pony…” I look around and realise were talking about something this in public. Better say this part quieter. “Get together.” He nods. “Yeah, that’s it! Good, for a moment there I thought it meant something wrong.” PINEAPPLE RICE Her face turns into a variety of emotions has her mouth emits a multiple unfinished questions. “What do you mean somethi…? How can you even…? Why would you even want to…?” These faces and questions finish with a sigh. “You know what?” She finally says, “Who the fuck am I to judge what happens here? I just arrived, I can’t go anywhere, I am not in the mood for debating ethics, the last thing I should be doing is pissing anyone off, so fuck it. If there are ponies that screw hoomangs, there are ponies that screw hoomangs. I don’t get why they screw hoomangs, but that’s their deal. To each their own and all that shit.” I can only pat my new comrade on her back. “Precisely my philosophy, Lion. But for future reference, it’s pronounced ‘humans.’ Not whatever you said.” “Humans… okay, good to know.” It’s nice to know she can put aside differences. It’s the hardest thing a newly arrived pony can do; Believe me, you have no idea how many are against mixers at first. But a while later they just shrug it off like she did right now. Kinda funny actually, because some of the ones who freak out about it the most later get into a human-pony relationship. Tongue Twist especially springs to mind. She came to me panicking when she had a dream about her and Henry. So much in fact she wanted to move in with me. Thankfully, Grimm gave her the details. Grimm’s such a smart guy, he can explain anything! Politics, Human Behaviour, Folk dancing… You know something? Grimm would be a good help handling her. I have a feeling I need help. “Speaking of mixers, I should tell you that Dianne, the lady we’re meeting? She’s married to a Griffon who works with us.” Her ears pick up. “They have griffons here?” “Well... kinda. It isn’t just ponies who just disappear out of nowhere, y’know.” That gave her a bit of a shock. “You’re saying that… anything can arrive here?” “Anything can. Ponies mostly, hence why we’re called Equine Rescue and Rehabilitation Association and not Practically Everything From Talking Horses to Apparently Not Mythical Creatures Rescue and Rehabilitation Association. PEFTHANMCRRA doesn’t have the same ring to it, anyway.” She shakes her head. “So, I’m guessing we have to calm down minotaurs who just arrived.” I nod. Everyone goes into panic stations when minotaurs come in. You'd be surprised how destructive a hungry, confused minotaur can be. “Oh, fun.” She sighs. “So pretty much my old job, minus drugs being involved.” “Well, you never know. We arrested one last week who ate some shrooms, hoping they were normal, edible mushrooms.” I joke. Judging by her face, she’s not a joking type. That’s fine. Neither is Grimm… And I know how to make him laugh. GRIMM FANDANGOTH “Uh… Sweety? Pineappple’s here.” My wife tells me. “Hmm? That’s odd. I know he has the arrival, but why would he be here now? Can’t he wait until the morning before the two go shopping?” Well, I can’t pretend I was not hoping to be torn away from the paperwork on the victims of that minotaur from last week. … Dianne’s making an unhappy look. I can only guess what it means. “The imbecile is making faces on the glass of the store again, isn’t he?” Dianne nods. God damn it, Pineapple. Just because you made me laugh ONCE with that shit… Author's Note So... The way it's formatted is different. Hoping it's better, expecting it is worse. Let me know what you think...
