The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

He rubbed his eyes together with his hands in a drunken stupor. All right, maybe he had one too many martinis last night but what else were you supposed to do at a big premier of your latest film?! It was going to be a smash; at least, that’s what he thought of it. He shook his head, trying to get his bearings. He thought it was a good picture, one with lots of excitement and morality. The audience response was certainly pleased with it; he received a standing ovation for his role. He decided it was too early to awaken; he should get just a little more rest.

Let’s hope the box office totals please Jack Warner so he can keep making these pictures.

“Oh…Babe, can you wake me in a couple of minutes? I want to get to the backlot before noontime.” Humphrey Bogart said as he rolled over, still in his tuxedo from the previous night.
“Well…um…OK…if that’s what you want…by the way, what’s a backlot?”
Humphrey opened his eyes wide. He knew the voice of Babe when he heard her and that wasn’t her. It was much too quiet and soft.

Oh shit! Had he slept with another woman in a alcohol-induced display of affection? If the press found out about this, his name would be mud. Not to mention divorce papers, alimony bills, his contract would be destroyed, no other studio in Hollywood would even want to touch him…

He turned over to look at who was speaking to him, fearing the worst. What he got surpassed all of his expectations. It…it appeared to be a winged horse, as yellow as a school bus with enormous blue eyes staring down at him as if he was a poison dart frog.

Bogart gawked at the creature for a few seconds and then slapped himself across the face as hard as he could. The horse was still there. He must be drunk beyond belief; there’s no way he could go to the studio like this. Maybe he’d have to take a day off. He stood up from the fainting couch which he was sleeping upon and surveyed his surroundings. He was in a cottage, one that looked like it was untouched by progress. Several small animals scurried around the floor, eating breakfast.

“Um…are you…all right…Mister?” The yellow horse said nervously, its voice almost at a whisper.

Bogie sharply turned to look at the horse. He eyed it curiously, almost as curious as it looked at him. “Can you…talk?” he asked the horse as if it was going to disappear within an instant. He was hoping it would.

“Um…well…I…erm…meep.” The winged horse flew away and hid in fear of him. Bogie went to look for her until he realised what he was doing, looking for a figment of his imagination.

“Ah, never mind.” Bogart walked towards the door, hoping to find a way out of this…madness.

Bogie went outside and shielded his eyes from the sun to see a seemingly endless field of grass, a dirt road led to what appeared to be a Saxon village…what the hell WAS this? It was a far cry from where he lived, the luxurious homes of Beverly Hills. He shook his head in disbelief and went back inside. He sat back on the couch, his head in his hands. He couldn’t believe this. He just couldn’t believe it.

What happened last night? He had to find a rational explanation for being in this…place. Racking his brain, he remembered he got into a limo, drove off and fell asleep in the backseat. But…now that he thought about it, what was that bumping movement? And why was the driver breathing so heavily?

Ah, it’s probably nothing more than a bit of drunkenness, we’ve all seen things that seem fantastic but are really ordinary through the eyes of liquor.

Bogart turned to see the winged horse approach him cautiously.
“Uh…my name is…Fluttershshss.” The horse said before trailing off into a whisper.
“What?”
“My name is Fluttershshshsh.”
“What? I can’t understand you. Speak up! I ain’t going to kill you or anything.” Humphrey tilted his head at her, as if to analyse her.
“My name is…fluttershy.”

“What’s that? Fluttershy? Huh. Odd name. Sounds like a children’s story.” Bogart couldn’t help but laugh at this ridiculous situation. “Come on, boys and girls, it’s time to hear the whimsical tale of Fluttershy, the amazing talking, flying horse with her little animal friends! Boy, you could make millions if you ever met Walt Disney.” He said as he rubbed his hands together in a money gesture.
Fluttershy slowly inched away from the creature in fear of him. The creature certainly was strange.

“Hey, hey! Don’t go away. I was just having a little bit of a laugh, that’s all. Don’t you like jokes?”

“N…no…not those kind…anyway.”

“Aw, come on! Have a little bit of humility about yourself. It’s OK to make fun of yourself every once in a while. That’s part of who you are...or what you are. There’s nothing wrong with a little good natured ribbing every once in a while. Wait a minute, what am I saying, I’m talking to a horse!”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Fluttershy ran over and opened the door. Bogart leapt up from his seat to see who…or what the new visitor was. Maybe this yellow horse was some kind of a circus act, a carnival attraction. Maybe he was in some kind of a back alley town somewhere in California. Maybe there was a way out of this madhouse.

“Good morning, Fluttershy. How’s that creature you found?”
“OH, Twilight! He’s…weird. I don’t know who or what it is but it scares me. It’s got the strangest voice and it’s got weird tentacle like things on its hooves and it said I’d make a million somethings...I kind of don’t like it.”
Numerous thoughts fell into Humphrey’s mind at the same time.

Twilight? That’s an even stranger name. Hooves? He doesn’t have hooves, he’s a man. Holy Christ, this thing feels the same way about him as he does about it.

Fluttershy walked into the room, followed by a purple unicorn. A unicorn? Now he KNEW he was drinking last night. What’s next; the Tin Man and The Cowardly Lion?

The unicorn appeared to be fascinated by him, much to Bogart’s discomfort. That was another thing that was strange about these creatures. Their eyes were like saucers. It unnerved him to see such enormous eyes staring at him.

“Um…greetings? Welcome to Equestria, Mr…” The unicorn said. Its voice was a lot more firmer then the yellow horse. Bogart sighed and decided to roll with it. Maybe he could get a good script out of this madness.

“My name’s Bogart. Humphrey Bogart.”

The horse and the unicorn just stared at him. This was an odd feeling; Humphrey had gotten used to everyone knowing who he was.
Nonplussed by their reaction; he decided to continue:
“I’m a famous movie star.”

More staring. Apparently, cinema was not a known art on Equestria.

“I’m an actor. Have you ever seen Casablanca? The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre? The Maltese Falcon? The Roaring Twenties? Not even The Return Of Dr. X? Don’t you know what movies ARE?”

A long silence. Bogart could see that the unicorn…Twilight, was it? Twilight was thinking very hard as if she was trying to recognise him. Finally, she spoke.
“No. I’ve never heard of those kind of plays, but they sound very interesting. Did you star in them, Mr. Bog-Art?” Twilight asked curiously. She seemed more curious than frightened of him but he wasn’t going to wind up on this thing’s operating table
with an ice-pick through his brain.

“Yes. Well, maybe I can show them to you one day. Now, do either of you have any coffee in this Equestria of yours? I’ve got a headache that could kill a horse! I mean, uh…no offense. Pretty soon, I’ll be sober, back with Babe in my house and you’ll all be a funny memory.” He rubbed his head in pain. Dear God, how he needed a cup of coffee...

“You think you’re dreaming?” Fluttershy said incredulously.

“YES! Yes, I think I’m dreaming! Why shouldn’t I? How could this be real?!” Bogart couldn’t help but yell at the horses. He was beginning to get quite tired of this hallucination and wished that Babe would wake him up soon.

“I assure you, Mr. Bog Art, you’re quite awake. We found you sleeping in that big black thing that crashed into a tree in Fluttershy’s garden. There was another one of your species sitting in the front but it was dead.”

“Big black thing…WAIT, DO YOU MEAN THE LIMO? THE LIMOUSINE?! No. There’s no way on God’s green Earth that it could be there!” Bogart stared at them incrediously. He reached out a hand to touch the purple one. Her fur was soft. She seemed lifelike enough. A thought nagged in his head. Maybe…maybe this IS real…

Humphrey Bogart staggered outside of the house in confusion, hoping to find hard evidence of what had occurred. The two ponies closely followed him as they stepped out into the sunlight.