The first thing that Colgate thought when she awoke in the middle of the night, was that she really had to pee.
It wasn't the soft insistent pressure that means you have to pee, but can hold it a little while longer, or the dull ache that signals it's time to start looking for a bathroom, or even the sharp stabbing pain that hurts so badly that the urge not to move, for fear of making the pain worse is paradoxically equal to the urge to get your rump to the bathroom. No. This was the OH-DEAR-GODDESS-WHY-DID-YOU-WAIT-SO-LONG-TO-USE-THE-BATHROOM-YOU-BETTER-CROSS-YOUR-LEGS-AND-PRAY-TO-SWEET-MERCIFUL-PRINCESS-CELESTIA-TO-HAVE-MERCY-ON-YOUR-PATHETIC-SOUL-BECAUSE-YOU-ARE-ABOUT-TO-BLOW!!!-agony that overrode any and every other thought other than get to the bathroom! Now!
The pain jolted her awake like a bucket of icy water. A bucket of icy water coming down in a stream--no! Bad thought!
Colgate rolled herself onto her side, then to her belly, like a turtle. A turtle that really had to pee!
She crawled to the.edge of her bed, trying not to cause her poor bladder any undue stress; well, any more undue stress.
She crawled to the edge of the bed, and peeked out over the side. The carpet was only a few inches away, she could do this.
Tenuously, she brought one hoof down, then a second, managing not to jiggle herself too much in the process; then, she dragged her rump over to the edge of the bed. For a few seconds she didn't move. Balanced there precariously. And then with a quick heave, she pulled herself forward and lowered her back legs; they hit the carpet with a muffled whump! a brief spike of pain lanced through her, and then returned to mere agony.
But she'd done it; she was off the bed!
Immediately, she waddled as fast as she was able to the bathroom.
Once Colgate managed to get into the bathroom and relieve herself, she collapsed onto the bathroom floor in a sprawled heap, and sighed. She had a nice bathroom, as far as bathrooms go, and the bathroom floor was lushly carpeted.
She couldn't remember just what she'd had to drink before she had gone to bed, but at that moment, she didn't really care.
Bang!
Colgate jolted up like she'd just been struck by lightning.
Bang!
Colgate jumped again, startled. What was that noise?
Bang!
Whatever it was, Colgate didn't like it. Not one bit.
BANG!
This last time was even louder than the first three, and it sent Colgate running out of the bathroom on the edge of panic.
She ran out into her bedroom and buried herself under the covers.
What was that noise!? She'd never heard that noise in her house before.
Another "Bang!" rang out, making her cringe.
What if it's a serial axe-murderer!? a little voice chimed in.
"A serial axe-murder?" Colgate asked, confused.
Yeah, said the voice. A serial axe-murderer: it's like a serial killer and an axe murderer, rolled into one!
"That's ridiculous," Colgate whispered. "There's not a serial axe-murderer in my house. It's probably a weather balloon, or swamp gas."
The voice was silent for a long moment. "Swamp gas, it said finally.
"Yes."
Oookay. But, on the off chance that it isn't swap gas, and a serial axe-murderer is raving around downstairs, what would you do?
Colgate took a moment to think about that. If, all if a sudden, serial axe-murderer burst through her door screaming, "Ahoy, matey! I be a serial axe-murderer, and I'm here to serial axe-murderer you! Argh!" What would she do?
Why does he sound like a pirate? asked the voice.
“Well I don’t know what a serial axe-murderer is supposed to sound like?” Colgate said, annoyed.
All right. Fair enough. So what’ll you do if there's a raving loon downstairs?”
"I'll scream." She said finally.
Scream? Scream what? asked the voice.
"What do you mean, 'scream what!?'" said Colgate indignantly. "Oh help, help, there's a raving lunatic in my house trying to KILL ME!? I'm just going to scream."
Hey, I'm just trying to help, said the voice.
"Well help better," Colgate huffed.
Okay, okay, said the voice. said the voice. Well, why don’t you just go down there and see for yourself what’s causing all the commotion?
Colgate blinked. “What, you mean, like, go down myself?”
Colgate, you live in a really big, really creepy house. And you’re a dentist. The first thing that anypony’s going to do if they hear you screaming your head off is run for the hills. If there is a serial axe-murderer downstairs, then you should probably go down there and find out.
Colgate swallowed. “But I don’t want to.”
Well, it’s either that, or stay here, cowering under the covers.
The voice had a point, Colgate had to admit. “Okay,” she said, hesitantly. “I’ll go down and take a look.”
Colgate threw off the covers, and got reluctantly got out of bed. She walked about four steps forward and stopped when something occurred to her. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Who is this that I’m talking to?”
Really? You don’t recognize me? the voice said as if Colgate had just asked the stupidest question imaginable. It’s me, your old pal Moe the molar!
Colgate took a few seconds to process this information. “Moe the . . . molar!?” she echoed after a minute.
The one and only.
“But but but . . . you’re not real! My therapist said so!”
Colgate . . . if I wasn't real, then how could I be talking to you right now? Moe the molar asked.
Couldn’t argue with that logic. “Ok then,” she said, suddenly feeling much better about the noise in her house; after all, if there was a serial axe-murderer in her house, at least she wouldn’t have to face it alone.
Colgate made her way to the bedroom door and slowly pulled it open.
Colgate was not a brave pony; in fact, Colgate had never been a brave pony, she wasn't a cowardly pony, at least, she didn't think of herself as a cowardly pony, just not a very brave one. Paradoxically, Colgate was also a dentist, which meant that most ponies were utterly terrified of her. But nevertheless, she made her way out into the hall and down the stairs to where she’d heard the dreadful noise emanating from.
She’d barely touched the carpet at the bottom of the stairs when the noise came again.
BANG!
Colgate jumped. Well at least we know it hasn’t moved, Moe the molar offered.
Colgate didn’t think that this was necessarily a good thing. “Yeah. Lucky us.”
BANG! the noise came again.
It sounds like it’s coming from the kitchen Moe said.
Colgate cocked her head. “The kitchen? What would a serial axe-murderer be doing in my kitchen?
Making a sandwich?
Before Colgate could reply there was another bang. But there was no mistaking it, it had come from the kitchen. Colgate swallowed. “Alright, off to the kitchen we go.”
Colgate gathered her courage, screwed up her face, and dove into the kitchen. It was empty.
“Well lookit that! No serial axe-murderer here!” Colgate said trying to hide her relief. “I guess that means we can just go back to— ” Then suddenly the refrigerator door burst open and flew off its hinges, crashing into the dishwasher. Colgate screamed and promptly fainted.
Hey. Hey Colgate. Wake up!
Colgate opened her eyes groggily. “Uh . . . what’s going on?”
Well you remember that noise which we thought was a serial axe-murderer? Well it turns out that it was just a big blue minotaur; he was stuck in your fridge, Moe said cheerily.
“Oh . . . that’s nice.” A pause. “Wait, what!?”
A minotaur. He was stuck inside your fridge. Well actually, he still is.
Colgate blinked the confusion out of her eyes as the events leading up to her fainting spell caught up with her. She looked up. Wedged inside her refrigerator, there was indeed a large blue minotaur.
“Hi,” said the minotaur, smiling.
“Hi,” said Colgate, gaping.
There was silence in the house for several long minutes while they stared at each other. Finally Colgate managed to find her voice, “What are you doing in my refrigerator?” she asked.
“That’s a good question,” the minotaur replied..
Silence.
“Oookay,” Colgate said. Trying a different tactic, she asked, “I’m Colgate. What’s your name?”
“My name is Iron Will!” he said, jumping out of the fridge with a flourishing pose. “Motivational speaker extraordinaire!”
Colgate had to move back a bit as the blue minotaur began to pose repeatedly in her small kitchen.
See! I told you he’s definitely not a serial axe-murderer! You’re so paranoid.
“You’re the one who said that he was a serial axe-murderer in the first place!” Colgate shouted.
Iron Will stopped posing and suddenly stopped posing and turned to her. “You’re probably wondering what I, a very successful motivational speaker, with multiple books in print and available at wherever books are sold, was doing in you fridge.”
“It might have crossed my mind,” Colgate said.
Iron Will nodded. "You might have a little trouble believing this, but I’ve been sent from the future to protect you from assassins who have also been sent from the future to assassinize you.”
Colgate blinked, and said the only word which she felt could be appropriate for such a statement: “Wat?”
Iron Will continued on undeeded, “Yes. In the not-too-distant future, a race of magically-enhanced ladybugs will become sentient, and take over the world.”
You know, I’m starting to think that this minotaur might just be insane, Moe the molar said.
Colgate was starting to think that as well. “Ladybugs,” she said.
Iron Will shook his head, “No, not ladybugs, magically-enhanced sentient super ladybugs. There’s a difference.”
“Oh. And these . . . superbugs are going to . . . “
“Take over the world, yes,” The minotaur said.
“And you’re from the future.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you’re here, why exactly?”
“Why am I here?” Iron Will’s brow creased in confusion, “Isn’t it obvious?”
Colgate shook her head. “Not really, no.”
“Oh,” Iron will said. “Well it’s simple really. In the future, after the ladybugs attack, a hero rises to lead the resistance against them and destroy the king bug. And that hero is you!” he said pointing at her.
“Me?” Colgate asked astoundedly.
“Yes, Colgate,” Iron Will said, taking her head in his uncomfortably-large hands. “You are the hero that the future deserves, but not the one it needs right now, so I’ve been sent back in time to protect you until the time comes when we will face the ladybug king and lead the resistance to victory!”
This guy’s nuttier than an oak tree, Colgate, and you know what else is nutty? A serial axe-murderer that’s what!
Colgate was inclined to agree with Moe on this one. Untangling herself from Iron Will’s hands, she said “Um, Mr. Will, I just have one thing to say— ” But whatever Colgate was about to say was interrupted by a giant ladybug erupting through the kitchen wall.
“Colgate the Destroyer! I have come to eat your face off!” it screamed, and lunged at her.
Colgate, who at that moment discovered that she had a hitherto unknown phobia of giant ladybugs breaking through her walls and trying to eat her face off, did the only thing she felt appropriate for the situation: she screamed bloody murder.
“When something tries to eat your face, that’s when you PUNCH IT WITH A MACE!” Iron Will pulled a mace out from somewhere and slammed it into the giant ladybugs face-parts. “If it doesn’t bleed red, then it’s still G-RA-TED!” he shouted as the ladybug exploded into green bits.
“That rhyme's kind of a stretch,” Colgate said, immensely calmer now that the imminent threat of facial consumption had passed.
Another ladybug stepped out of the hole in her wall. “I smell a delicious face!” it screeched.
“How about a delicious mace!? Iron Will said, slamming the mace into the ladybug’s face.
“It tastes like pain!” the ladybug screamed before it exploded.
“I take it back. Your rhymes are amazing.” Colgate said quickly.
Iron Will reached into the refrigerator, “Colgate, the time has come to achieve your destiny!” He pulled something that looked like a small mold farm out of the fridge. “Behold! The Hot Dog of Time!”
Colgate stared at the moldy mass in Iron Will’s hand. “Was . . . that . . . in my fridge!?”
“Yes it was,” he said. “Now eat it.”
“WHAT!? I’M NOT GOING TO EAT—”
Iron Will shoved the Hot Dog of Time into her mouth. Immediately she was overwhelmed by the horrific knowledge that something was in her mouth which was not on the Dental Association of Equestria’s list of approved food items.
She fainted.
“Ma’am. Are you awake? Ma’am?”
“Uh . . . what?” Colgate opened her eyes. A pair of police stallions were standing over her with concerned eyes.
“Ma’am, are you all right?”
Shakily, Colgate got to her feet. “What . . . what happened?”
Two days ago a minotaur broke out of a Top-Secret research facility by hiding inside a trash can and convincing the staff on duty that it was haunted. He escaped with a pair of magically enhanced super bugs.”
Colgate was silent for a long moment. “What kind of bugs?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am, that’s classified. But we heard you screaming and thought that you might have a serial axe-murderer in your house, and thought that as long as we’re here, we may as well tell you about it.”
“What should I do if I see this minotaur?” Colgate asked.
“Don’t call us,” the guard said. “By.”
Colgate watched them leave through the giant hole in her wall. “I’m going back to bed.”
End.
