Chapters View Online
The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of
Of All The Dimensions In The World, I Had To Walk Into Yours...
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.
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.
“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.
“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?”
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.
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.
“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.
View Online
The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of
Some Town To Be Stranded In...But What Town Isn't?
Humphrey Bogart staggered his way through the backyard, taking extra care not to step on any of the animals running about. It couldn’t be real. He still didn’t believe it.
Horses. Talking horses, for that matter. OK, so that purple one was a technically a unicorn and the yellow one was some kind of a…pegasus? Is that what they were called? But that’s beside the point!
He had to be drunk or dreaming or anything… anything but this! He saw the two of them following him out of the corner of his eye, talking amongst themselves. Maybe… they’re some kind of science experiments or something. Yeah, this is probably some kind of an experimental community like the Island of Lost Souls. But if these were the creatures…then who was Dr. Moreau?
“We are half man, half equine! Throw your clothes into the fire!” Bogart shuttered to himself at that thought. Let’s hope the owner of this perversion of science knew who he was and would let him out of this place. If not, he’d have to force his way out…
The sun beat upon him and with his black tuxedo on, it felt like he was burning up inside. What was wrong with this place? The sun never felt so hot back in California, even in the most humid of summers. It felt unnatural, almost as if the sun had a mind of its own.
The two ponies did not speak to him, still wondering what he was. It appeared that they were still talking about him and that the yellow one was examining his jacket. Well, whatever it was they were saying, he wasn’t interested. Best not to get too attached to these horses, lest they steal you away in the middle of the night and cut you open with a scalpel to see what a human heart looks like. Yeah. Ya can’t trust them. Not yet, anyway. They seem nice enough, but remember the old adage of not judging a book by its cover…
After a few minutes of walking and muttering to himself about the situation he was in, Bogart stopped as he bumped into something. He looked up and he saw it. The limousine. It was as black as coal with its front end beat up badly and an enormous branch smashed through the windshield. Bogart ran to the limousine and touched it with his hands. It was real. Bogart quickly opened the back door to see the interior.
It looked like a bomb had gone off. Leaves, branches and even several small birds had made their home in what was, just a few hours ago, a vehicle that was to take him back to his house. Bogart then saw the driver with a broken neck, his head slumped over on the steering wheel and his gray uniform stained and covered in dirt and dust. He was a young man, younger than Bogart certainly. It both depressed and frightened him to see someone go at the prime of their youth.
Bogart opened and closed his mouth several times in shock as another thought entered his mind. Yes, Humphrey. This is a real place. There was no doubting it anymore. Whatever…or wherever this is, it is real. A land where everything fantastic is real and everything real is fantasy.
“Are…are you OK?”
He turned sharply to see the purple unicorn staring at him from outside, her face contorted in that of pure curiosity of what he was in.
Bogart ignored this, said a quick prayer for the dead driver and got out of the backseat. He stepped next to the unicorn, but made sure not to get too close to her.
“Uh…anyway, a limo is kinda like a car but it’s…wait, you probably wouldn’t know what a car is…well, a car is a vehicle that allows us to be taken from one place to another. It’s like a train, but you drive it yourself and it’s smaller and…wait, do you have trains?”
The two horses nodded.
He knew now that it wasn’t a dream or a hangover-induced vision or anything. It was real. But why was he here? How did the horses get like this? Where is this place?
“Well, here we are, Mr. Bog Art. Welcome to the town of Ponyville!”
“Holy mother of God. It’s the land of the houyhnhnms!
Nonetheless, the ponies did stare at him in the streets, not for the usual reasons of idolizing and a chance to meet a famous celebrity but in shock and awe over this…thing. He heard some of them say things to each other:
It made Bogart feel uncomfortable and there was only one way to calm down. Fishing inside of his pocket, he felt a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He counted the cigarettes in the packet. Seven. Unless these horses knew how to cultivate tobacco, he’d have to ration them. Pulling one out, he lit it as quick as a flash and stuffed the lighter back in his pocket. He needed this to relax. Oh, GOD, he needed this so bad…
“What’s that?” Twilight said, noticing the cigarette in Humphrey’s mouth.
As uncomfortable as the staring was, Bogart found it amusing to see some of them faint at the sight of him. “If only they knew that girls would do the same thing…heh, I guess people are alike all over.” he thought to himself.
Humphrey looked up to see a tree-house, the kind that children would make in the suburbs, stretching out before him. A small sign on the door adorned with an oil painting of a book seemed to indicate that this was a library.
The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of
Questions, Questions, Questions...
Humphrey Bogart entered the tree-house/library as if he was entering the Soviet Union for the first time; with caution and hesitation. He saw that the interior was also made out of wood (boy, Ponyville’s fire department must have one HELL of a workday with all these flammable materials…) with burnt-out candles to the side of the room, ready to illuminate the house when night fell. An owl rested on a perch near a windowsill, still sleeping as it was daylight. Twilight and Fluttershy was sitting on cushions in the far end of the room, patiently waiting for him to come over. A small bed, the kind you see dogs sleep in with the label of “Spike” was visible upstairs, currently unoccupied.
Bogart walked past the bookshelves as he went further in the room and idly scanned the titles, only to find he had never heard of any of them. But none of that mattered now. Now he only wanted answers.
“All right, you two…” Bogart said as he sat down on the floor, crossing his legs in an attempt to appear non-threatening as he extinguished his cigarette with his fingers and flicked it into a trash can nearby. “I’ve got a lot of questions for you.”
“We’ll be happy to help you in any way possible, Mr. Bog Art.”
“That’s…ah, never mind. First things first…what IS this place?” Bogie said as he looked around the room, wondering how...horses, of all animals, could make this!
“Well, as I’ve told you, this town is called Ponyville.”
“Yeah, real creative naming there. Go on.” Bogart sarcastically remarked.
“And the land that we’re in is called Equestria. There are many other towns and cities such as Cloudsdale, Fillydelphia, Marehatten, Appleloosa, Las Pegasus...” Twilight said before his thoughts interrupted
Sweet mother of God. Those names…these horses have the exact same cities as Earth does. What are the odds of that?! Must be something like a million to one! How is that even possible?! It must be some kind of evolutionary thing…perhaps he should ask about that too…
“Maybe a visual aid might help you understand better.” Twilight said, seeing Bogart’s face puzzled in thought. Twilight, using her horn, levitated a globe that was sitting on a writing table toward Bogart. Bogart gawked at the sphere that was hovering in front of him and reached out to touch it. It was there, floating before him in a purple glow.
“See, THIS is where we are now.” Twilight said as she spun the globe with a violet aura and then stopped, indicating a small mass of land that was presumingly Ponyville. But Bogart wasn’t interested in where he way anymore. He had a bigger discovery on his mind.
“…How…how do you do that?!” Bogart said with amazement at the levitating globe in front of him.
“THAT! You…the globe…it’s floating in midair! How are you doing that?” Humphery shouted in sheer awe at something so mindblowing to a man like him.
“I told you, it’s magic. All of us unicorns have it. The pegasi here are good at flying while the Earth ponies have connections with the ground. We all have some kind of magic.” Twilight replied as she eyed him curiously. Could it be that this thing didn’t know what magic was?
“Don’t you believe in magic, Mr. Bogart?” Fluttershy piped up.
“Magic. You mean like kid birthday parties magic, cheap acts in vaudeville shows magic or... real magic?”
“What do you mean by REAL magic, Mr. Bog Art?”
“Well…here goes nothing!” Twilight said as she concentrated for a moment. It appeared that she was thinking very hard about something, her horn glowing with the intensity of an IMAX projector. Bogart shielded his eyes from the purple haze, as did Fluttershy. Finally, a white rose appeared out of nowhere. Twilight grinned triumphantly, as she levitated the rose into Bogart’s hands. His face was as if someone had told him that he just won a Nobel Prize; that of complete shock and disbelief.
“Oh, wonder of wonders…” Bogart mustered as he looked at the flower in amazement, turning it over in shock. It was unbelievable! Incredible! To think that these creatures have mental powers that mankind can only dream of! It was both amazing and depressing to realise this as he knew exactly what would happen if man could do this. But enough of that for now. There were still many more questions that needed to be answered.
“My God…this is just…incredible! Truly amazing! If only we...erm, let’s get back to business. I couldn’t help but notice you have those tattoos on your backs. What are they for? Are they some kind of a serial number; a way to identify yourself?”
“…Uh…”
“And they appear once a pony finds out what they’re good at. For example, my cutie mark represents my use of magic, whereas Fluttershy’s shows her skill with animals. There’s all different kinds of cutie marks for almost anything in the limits of the imagination.”
“…Wait, you mean whenever you find your talent…ANY talent at all…they show up?”
“Ha! Wish I could have had one, it would have saved me a while serving in the navy, that’s for sure…not that I regret it...”
“...Your kind doesn’t have Cutie Marks?” Twilight said, befuddled at the thought of Mr. Bog Art’s kind not being able to show what they’re good at easily.
“Uh…no. Back where I’m from, we have to find out what we’re good at on our own. Sometimes it takes a very long time but everyone finds a niche eventually. People do many things until they find out what they’re good at. Hell, like I said, I served in the military before I became an actor! Even that took time to get where I am today! One of my first pictures was a budget basement Lugosi film, Return Of Dr. X. I was the good doctor.” Bogart paused as he saw the confused looks on their faces. "What I'm basically trying to say here is that...talent takes time. It doesn't just go *poof* and it's on your back! You've got to practice."
“That’s how Cutie Marks work!”
“Who’s your leader?” Bogart decided to keep it as simple as possible for the ponies, unaware that none of them ever knew of ANY other kind of government.
Oh, here we go, an autocratic system. Just what he needed. One person or pony or whatever having power over everyone else… Princess Celestia is watching you. ALWAYS.
“Right. Go on.” Bogart said, hiding his disgust with the prospect of having to suck up to some spoiled rich girl. He had enough of those back home, always thinking they were the best thing since sliced bread.
“And she’s the one who controls the sun.” Twilight interrupted. “Her sister, Luna controls the moon at night and together, they keep time going!”
“You mean…someone CONTROLS the sun and the moon?! No. I’m sorry. That’s…THAT’S too farfetched for me.”
“Your planet rotates…or it should rotate… around the axis of the sun. That means that it spins round and round it and it takes 365 days…or however long a full year is here to make a full rotation. The moon should only be visible on one side of your planet after the sun sets. When the moon is up on this side of the planet, it’s sunny on the other side. That’s how the movement of time works. But solar bodies being CONTROLLED…and you can live with that kind of power being given to one person…I mean, pony?” Bogart said as he wondered how they could possibly FATHOM having such a system. It always meant bad news back on Earth with those kind of rulers…
“Why wouldn’t we? She’s wise and kind and giving and powerful. She’s a very good leader.”
“And her sister’s nice once you get to know her.” Fluttershy meekly said.
“Yeah, well, where I come from, those kind of people get too big for their boots, ya’ get me?”
Wait. What if this Celestia woman is a…benign dictator? Yeah, like what Plato or Socrates or whoever said in that one theory. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with her. Ah, Bogie, you screwed up again, always focusing on the negative side! You stupid, stupid man! Seeing Twilight’s shocked expression hurt his heart as Bogart decided to apologise for his comments.
“Uh…sorry I jumped to conclusions, I’m sure that this Celestia dame is swell and it’s none of my business to criticise her like that. It’s just that history on my world hasn’t been the kindest to absolute monarchs. Let’s put it that way. So…how does this princess of yours control every single town?”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that about your rulers. What happened to them?”
“…They were forced to abidicate their thrones, but they still kept a large amount of power, just not as much as they used to. Many historians have criticised them for various reasons.” Bogart quickly lied. He had recently decided to keep certain Earth knowledge away from them such as the French and Russian revolutions, the World Wars, the Spanish Civil War and the Kentucky Derby out of fear that they would shun him. He’d never see his racehorses at home the same way again, that’s for sure!
“Huh. Maybe I should ask you some questions some time, Mr. Bog Art.”
“Yeah, we’ll do that some other time…now about MY question…”
“Oh, sorry! We have an elected mayor here, Mayor Mare.”
“The old Mayor Mare; she ain’t what she used to be, ain’t what she used to be, ain’t what she used to be.” Bogart softly sang with a chuckle in his voice.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just a little joke. So…you have some democracy but you’re ruled by an autocratic leader…” Bogart said.
This kind of society would stump every economist and politician on Earth. It truly was a paradox…one person holds all the power and yet free elections are ran to decide who rules the towns. However, they have to report back to the princess who presumingly has the power to remove them from position...and then new elections are held… but if…
“…Who’s Spike?” Humphery asked turning his head towards the bed on the second floor.
“Huh?” Twilight said, turning from a conversation she was having with Fluttershy.
“Spike. I saw a little bed labeled Spike. Is he your pet or something?”
“Oh no, Mr. Bog Art. Spike is my assistant. He’s currently away in Canterlot on royal business and he won’t be back until Monday.”
“Is he a horse like you?”
“No, he’s a dragon. And we prefer to be called Ponies, Mr. Bog Art.
“Well…thanks for setting some things straight. If you’ll excuse me, I want to just stretch my legs for a while…” Humphrey said as he hoisted himself off the cushions and walked towards the window, looking at the town and the inhabitants before him...
