537p

by MagLocal

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Human
Length: 2053

It was just a normal day. Then tomorrow happened and a pair of siblings got turned into Shining Armor and Twilight Sparkle. Even worse, there is the promise of more to become ponies. And a pony fiction writer goes along for the ride.

537p.

Everything went about as normal as people viewed it. Sure, there were crimes, there was the war in the Middle East, there was the growing economy in South-East Asia. For a lot of people, it wasn't a normal day. They would either have disaster strike without notice or a stranger would give them a surprising a treasure.

A brony continued writing his piece of fan fiction. Another lets his being a brony known to his sister.

And then, tomorrow arrived. The brony woke up as Shining Armor. His sister woke up as Twilight Sparkle.

But they will not only be the ones soon. Not only would bronies be subject to it.

What then?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-09-17 13:04:19 UTC

Alack, the Night Goes on...

“Writer's block.” Dolor stared at the screen.

“Twilight!” Rainbow Dash yelled as she shook her crazily. “Snap out of it!”

But he could not easily choose what would happen next. Would Twilight Sparkle snap out of it or not? The dizziness potion—as had been stated before—would only last a few days. But it wasn't the first day. Common sense declared that she wouldn't—but there could be enough space for a temporary “snap out of it.” Was there?

She snapped out of it. “Wuh, where am I?”

Better than nothing more written.

“In my house!” Rainbow Dash arched closer to her. “Do you remember my name?”

“Yes, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight Sparkle replied agitated. “And don't call me Twilight, Cathy.”

“You already look like Twilight Sparkle,” Cathy said; “it's been easier to call you that.”

“It's just that—“ Sally paused “—that no matter what we look like, we're still humans in the inside.”

“Sounds pretty mushy to me.”

Twilight eyed her. “Are you—|

A beep. Dolor looked up. “Are you still up?” he read out loud.

He typed back to her. “Still am.”

“What are you doing?”

He typed on the keyboard. But the beep interrupted him.

“Still doing that pony fiction story? You've been like that since you started it.”

Dolor groaned. “OK, I'll sleep, Seels.”

“It's Celia.”

“Nicknames, Celia. Now, I'll turn it off.”

Dolor closed the word processor, not forgetting to save before he exited it. He closed down his other windows — a window of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic fan fiction, a window displaying a few folders, a music player.

As he turned the computer off, he thought of more ideas. Chapter 14 was almost done. Twilight Sparkle was now already awake from the dizziness potion. The Mane Six had to get to Watt. There would be someone there with important information relevant to the story—the someone and the information being under consideration until confirmed. Their questions are “Why are we now ponies?”, “Who did to us?”

Dolor went to the sink and washed his face. He stared at himself. What if I looked at myself now as a pony? He had written that into the characters of his story. What if it became true? But it was only a dream, he knew. He was getting sleepy, so he could dream tonight.

Ideas for what would happen next went into his mind. Would Queen Chrysalis make her move and ambush the ponies now? Would they win or lose against the changelings? Would Discord turn Amy into a vampire Fluttershy?

What about the comments? There was the occasional troll, but everyone else was nicely giving their opinion and criticism on it—only because there were a few commenters. There were questions. There were complaints. He read them all. He answered all of them.

Where were the ideas? There was sleep; he could think of more ideas while he slept. They would be typed in and tested tomorrow after work. The idea of asking customers for ideas was thrown out of his consideration. Someone might just squirt the ketchup into his face for even mentioning “Rainbow Dash”.

But Dolor was just tired and sleepy. Tomorrow, he thought. He closed the door and dropped to the bed. He dozed into sleep. Critical thinking shall be postponed until morning.

Apron. Nah; I'll just sleep.

On the sidewalk was one hot dog cart. It was very late at night. Only a few bought hotdogs. A few more were still walking this late. The vendor looked at his watch. “Eleven forty-two. Just six more minutes.”

Footsteps were getting louder. He looked. There was a man running while fumbling for something in his pocket.

“Would you like a hotdog?” the vendor asked. The man stopped at the cart.

“Just a regular one with pickles.” He slammed his wallet on the cart, eyeing the hanging menu above.

As the vendor did his job, placing the sizzling hotdog on the bun and pouring the chopped pickles, he glanced at the man. “Are you in a hurry?”

“It's almost midnight.” His breathing sounded a little heavy. “I got to go home. 'Way all day.”

The vendor grinned. “Curfew?” he teased. “What've you been doing?”

“Overnight.”

He handed the hotdog to the customer. “You look too young for a full-time job.”

“Trip. Thanks.” The hurried man took a rushed bite, then he started running. “Keep the change!” he shouted.

The vendor looked down at the money. There was no change to be kept. He looked at his watch. Forty-five. He turned off the lights and pushed his cart home.

The door opened. “Sophie?”

She turned away from the television. “Mackie, you know you're not supposed to get here this late.” She looked disgusted. “And get that green thing off your shirt!”

Mackie looked down. “It's just pickles.” He picked it up and ate it. “Wouldn't it be—is that 'Sonic Rainboom'?”

“Yeah,” she said. The screen showed an excessively pompous Rarity falling through the sky as the Wonderbolts fly in to try save her. “How did you know?”

Mackie winced mentally. “I...I just know what the name of the episode was. Familiar looking.”

“You watched an episode of 'My Little Pony'?” Sophie grinned. “Are you a brony?”

“OK, some can watch a couple of episodes and not be a brony,” Mackie said.

“'A couple,' you say? So you did watch some!”

“That does not instantly mean that I'm a brony if I watch some. Not everyone's gonna like such a pink show.”

“What about Rainbow Dash? She has the seven colors of the rainbow in her mane.”

“That's not what I mean!” Mackie replied annoyed.

“Favorite pony!” she said fast.

“Rainbo—“ He slapped his head in frustration.

“Gotcha'!” Sophie teased.

“No, not too much,” he whispered to himself. He looked at Sophie. “OK, you got me. I'm a brony. Surprise.” He raised his hands in surrender.

Sophie turned off the TV.

“Now go dream some ponies,” Sophie teased more. She stood up and walked upstairs. “I'll be dreaming of something else.”

“But didn't you—“

“I have other things to dream about. Now, go sleep before they know you're here.”

He then heard a door close.

“What am I gonna do?” he asked himself. A secret of several months, revealed in one wrong reflex. But he reminded himself, “not too much.” At least the secret was not something as bad as murdering someone. Being a male fan of a supposedly girly show was a far cry from murdering something although, he noted, they are not supposed to be so in some way.

I'll just brush this away, he thought to himself. Then, he walked to the stairs. There were other things to dream about.

“So, everything is ready?” a man asked. He wore a black professional suit.

The other man looked at him. “Yes, but...”

“'But...'?”

“It's...This thing is...Are you sure about this? We can't go back to normal after it starts.”

The man looked at the screen. Every indicator told him that all was in good condition. It only needed to be started.

“We'll be changing history if you do this,” he interrupted.

The man laughed. “I've heard that many times before. I know what I'm doing. You even agreed about this along with everyone else back when it was only in its conception. Ponies? Sure, it may sound ridiculous, but it will be done. You know why.”

The other man stared at him. A look of uncertainty and a little disgust was on his face. “Clouds will become like literal cotton pillows, the most advanced technology in existence will be unleashed, the...some people will become horrible and evil creatures even if they try to fight against the evil, they'll believe that fantastic magic is real, even babies will be affected—do you know—“

The man put a hand on him. “I know what I am doing. That may seem foolish. But that's what everyone will get because of this. We already talked about this before so you shouldn't be pleading like that, OK?”

The other man nodded.

“Stay calm.”

The dark room had been alight by only one big screen and a few smaller ones, and it still was. Some wearing the same black professional suit went about their business, knowing what they are about to bring into the world. Their faces remained neutral.

“Would you like me to get the newspaper for you in the morning?” the other man asked. “I mean, if you want to. We already have news sites, too.”

“Get me the newspaper.”

The doorbell rang.

Mackie went downstairs. Peering through the window, he saw a delivery man holding a cardboard box. He unlocked and opened the door, going into the dark and quiet night.

“This package is for Mackie N. Erston,” the delivery man said. “Are you Mackie?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“OK, just sign the paper.”

Mackie did so. He looked up at the man. “I didn't order anything recently.”

“It's a gift delivery.”

“From?”

“Your mother or sister; it's 'Sophie E. Erston'.”

Sophie has some telling to do tomorrow. “Ah, OK.” He smiled a little. “Thanks.”

“Nice knowing you now,” the delivery man said as he went on his motorcycle. He drove away.

“Nice knowing you now”? That did not sound right to him. He ignored it while he walked back inside with the box. He turned off the lights, went upstairs, turned off the lights there, went into his room and locked the door. He carefully cut the box open. Shreds of paper gave way to his searching hands.

Out of the box was a smaller box. The color pink was almost all over it. Mackie did not mind the words on it; seeing what was inside was enough. It was white unicorn toy with blue mane and a stylized shield on its haunches. Shining Armor.

An alarming feeling. It was light and gone in a quick moment. First Rainbow Dash and now this. He thought of himself and his parents sitting on the couch together, all their heads nodding in agreement with no drama at all. His father did not mind the occasional character—but a show where pastel-colored ponies go about and have friendship as their strongest power, not to mention the girly appearance of the show? He would accept, Mackie thought.

He put the toy in the desk drawer. Tomorrow was a Saturday. At least he could sleep all he wanted until he was tired of it.

If Sophie is going to tell it on me like I just got the Pentagon's secret files, she's going to hear me out.

And so, he went to his bed and slept. The thought of the word 'brony' crept into his mind. Then, the ponies went in. Soon, he was dreaming about them. Now, in the dream, Applejack and Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy and Rarity and Daring Do—they were all safe. Twilight Sparkle was hanging on a rope's clichéd thread. She was also screaming. Below her was lava. He jumped at the rope, reaching out his hoof to her.

It was a perfect grab. They swung their way off to one side.

“Now, on three, we'll jump off and go on the ground,” he told Twilight calmly.

“What?!” was her response.

But they swung. Lava had been close to them once, now twice. Twilight, with a fearful look on her face, eyed the lava. He did not even look at it. He looked at the six others on the ground.

“OK, one!”

“We're going—?!”

“Two!”

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy moved with wary eyes and streched out hooves.

“Three!”

He let go. And then he landed on the hooves of Rainbow.

“There ya' go, sport!” she cheered.

They were saved from harm's danger because of Mackie. He would probably forget it. Still, it was very thrilling to save the Mane Six plus Daring Do. He felt butterflies in his heart.

“Mackie! Mackie!” the seven cheered.

Daring Do stopped and fluttered to him. “I think I'll need a bit of your help in my next adventure!” It was out of character but he was in a dream. He could let them speak whatever he wanted them to speak.

Daring then joined again the chant of “Mackie! Mackie! Mackie!” Those ponies saying his name was ve—