Friendship is CLOPtimal: Elegance

James handed the cash drawer to the manager and stared into space while the money was matched against his receipts. It was part of his daily ritual and the only time each day when he was permitted in the big office that overlooked the retail store’s shelves and cash registers. Of the thousands that the store took in each day, a small portion, laughingly known as minimum wage, would be deposited into his bank account in two days. Not nearly enough, not nearly soon enough.

The manager signed his final receipt and told him to have a good weekend. James eyed the calendar. Wednesday. He hated the ritual, but for the next two days he would miss it.

The retailer who employed him could not even be generous enough to pay out vacation time. This had in fact been a change in policy before James began working there. Older workers boasted of the accruals they had and, when one of them did change jobs, were met with large checks. James had to take his time by the end of each fiscal year, and that meant he had the rest of the week off.

He had no particular love for the job or his coworkers, but it gave him something to do. It would be different if he had money, but two days off now would just be wasted.

Shutting the car door, he contemplated stopping off for takeout, but a check of his wallet shot down that idea immediately. Until his pay hit the bank on Friday, it would be cold cereal and whatever snacks he had in the apartment.

The apartment had been called a one bedroom, but that too was laughable. A small corner with a thin wall might have been able to hold a bed, but nothing else. His mattress was in the middle of the living room, which was fine since he had no proper living room set.

What James did have was a beat-up, second-hand, overstuffed recliner. When he made it home, he slumped into it. When he had set up the apartment, it had been something he’d been proud of. The computer at his right, a mini-fridge to his left, and the big-screen TV in front of him. A regular captain’s chair on his own Starship Enterprise, its five-year mission, to provide as much entertainment and empty calories to the young bachelor.

But now, the springs under the recliner’s pillow had gone. The computer had its case opened, one of its hard drives unmounted and just hanging by the data cable. The fridge had nothing but a half-empty sports drink. The TV was still in good shape, and he’d even managed to pay the cable bill two weeks before, so he wouldn’t have to think about it until two more weeks had past.

Thursday’s sun found James in the same position, flopped in the recliner, feet up. A crusty scum of drool had dried on his cheek, and he scratched at it as he woke. He stood up to stretch, and gently scratched his ass as he debated whether to take a shower, since he didn’t have to go to work. He compromised on running his hair under the water to slick it down, then dragging his comb through it for a style that lasted from the mirror all the way back to the recliner. He flipped on the TV and turned on the monitor.

There was a time when, even without money, James would have enjoyed a day off in front of the TV. But TV had changed in the years since…. Gone were the game shows with their bells and whistles, and gone were the reruns of the comedies that he’d been too young for when they’d first aired in prime time. In their place were angry faux courtroom shows, petty people squabbling in front of fake doctors, and reality TV with wannabe celebrities yelling over food or motorcycles or fishing nets. But even that wasn’t what got to him. The commercials were also bent for the kind of person who wasn’t working at ten in the morning.

He could safely ignore the spots for cheap diabetic testing supplies—at least for a few more years until the sports drinks caught up with him—and the offering cash now for people with disability claims and successful lawsuits. But then a commercial would come up for an online college, and that would start a thought process.

I should check that out. If I had a degree, I bet they’d promote me, or I could at least have something on a resume to be proud of. Of course, they’ll see the name of the institute and probably discount it. And even if I do make more money I’ll also be thousands more in debt. That’s if I can even get the degree. Three years of checking in for homework assignments, and that’s if they transfer all my credits. I wonder if those are still good. I should call the school and get a transcript.

He leaned over and pulled up a web site. James had completed a full year of school before dropping out, theoretically because of money, in honesty because of grades, but that was three years ago. A few clicks later, and he found that the registrar wanted $25 for each transcript, money he didn’t have.

The show came back and he allowed himself to be distracted before he came back to his life problems. Homebound, out of money, nothing to do but watch TV and see the advertisements that mocked him for being low class.

Well, nature had fortunately provided a singular form of entertainment that was free and required no equipment but what he was born with. James pulled his sweatpants down around his ankles, then kicked them near a clothes pile on the floor that might eventually get washed. His underwear he left around his waist. Idly he massaged his balls while contemplating his decision.

It would be easy enough to pull up one of the porn sites and just browse through pictures until aroused. But that would be quick and would leave him with the rest of the day to get through. Streaming video would take time, but James never liked the porn aesthetic. The women seemed too shallow. It was impossible for him to see past the heavy makeup, tattoos, and cinematography. The character might be a demure schoolgirl pulled into a world of debauchery, but all he could see was an actress without the talent or connections to work in proper movies.

No, what he wanted was to watch some hentai anime. That was what was needed. Something not too hardcore that it would make him cum in five minutes, and with a good story as well.

His laziness was so great that he considered eschewing the DVD rack so that he could remain in the chair, but the time it would take to pirate a video meant going back to the TV and the advertisements, so he pulled his frame up and selected a disc.

He had seen it before, at least the first part. It was always difficult to get through a long porno in one go. James skipped ahead past the first sex scene where the nerdy boy fell in with the girl from his high school and got locked in the sports equipment shed. Vaguely he remembered how it went, as the boy went to the girl’s home to ensure that she was safe, only to find her younger sister there.

James assumed that the third act would be a three-way, but before he could get there he found himself getting aroused by the interaction. The younger sister was demure but willing, clearly attracted to the protagonist. The thought crossed his mind to wonder why none of the real-life women acted like that, but he stroked himself to push it out of his head. Besides, no real-life women had the hair colors of the anime characters either. The big sister’s hair wasn’t auburn or ginger, it was full-Crayola red.

The sex got hotter and James stroked faster, not even bothering with technique, just bouncing his fist against the head of his shaft. Soon he found himself getting close, so he slowed up just enough to stop himself. Pausing the video before the sex scene finished, he crossed the room to the bed. It was more comfortable masturbating while lying down, and besides, that was where his box of tissues was.

Now with only the stimulation that he could generate with his mind, James increased his speed to get to the finish. He got distracted by thinking about his barren sex life. He was not a virgin; in many ways it would have been easier if he were. He had once pursued sex with such a vigor that he had coaxed two women (on separate occasions!) into bed with him, but not for long-term. And even then, it hadn’t been the passage to a blissful heaven like in the hentai he’d just shut off. Again he asked why females didn’t act like the red-haired girl.

That gave him the focus to think about her hair, and her breasts, and the way the protagonist fucked her. Which in turn got him off at last. Cleaning himself off, he let the fatigue take him down into a mid-day nap.

He came aware to the sound of a low hum, and it took a few seconds to realize that it was his phone vibrating. James tumbled off the mattress, tangling his foot in the sheets and dashing for the phone on the assumption that it had probably already given a few silent rings while he was still asleep. He saw his mother’s name on the caller ID and swiped the unlock code.

“Hello.”

“Hi, James. Did I wake you on your day off?”

“No, of course not,” he lied, taking a breath to get the rough edge off his voice. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got something kind of important to talk to you about…do you know Equestria Online?”

James had heard of the game that his mother played, somewhere on the periphery of his consciousness. He used to be a gamer, but finding the time to proceed through the long games that they put out in those days proved a challenge, and it was easier just to relax with some TV. But from what he’d gathered it was a My Little Pony tie-in. That his mother had gotten into it showed him a side of her he hadn’t known existed.

She had done a good job raising him in a tough environment. His father had walked out when he was three, but he was afforded no sympathy since more of his peers came from single-parent families than didn’t. But there had always been food on the table and clothes on his back, even if it meant his mother had no time for a social life. Now, it seemed, she was in her second childhood, and it amused him to think of her regressing to the time when My Little Pony was the hot toy for girls.

“Kinda, yeah. I know you like it.”

“I do. I’m going to be emigrating.”

“Huh?”

She launched into an explanation of the process, but James was only half listening. He had heard of the concept in news stories, but it was always something that happened in far off cities to people who were just numbers in a report. That his own mother would upload her mind onto a computer…

“Does this mean I’m never going to see you again?” he asked.

“No! To the contrary, I can see you much more now. We can talk any time you like. I’ll just look…a little different.”

The weight of it hit James, and part of him, a deep, instinctual part, lamented that he would never again be held by his mother. But he knew that to voice this concern was considered childish, and so he buried the thought.

“But why?”

She sighed. “I’m getting old. I feel old. When you’re my age you’ll understand. Anyway, the point is that I’m sending you the tablet that I use to communicate in Equestria Online, and you can use it to talk to me. We’ll talk a lot more, and it’ll all be pleasant, OK?”

He resigned himself. “OK, mom. I’ll talk to you soon.” He hung up.

It was a lot to think about. James reached for the remote again.

The next day a parcel arrived by courier, which meant that James had to hastily throw on a pair of sweatpants and whatever shirt was lying on the floor close to the door. Slipping it out of the padded envelope, he saw the screen with the ornate border, and the simple instructions saying to charge for twelve hours and then turn on. This, then, was a PonyPad.

In a fit of motivation, he decided to clean around the chair and restore the commanding atmosphere as best he could. Now the pad joined the computer and the TV. Nodding approval, and with his pay finally having hit his account, he decided to call for food delivery since he was still wearing clothes. Once it arrived, he returned to cheap TV and porn.

A pale light emanated from the device after it charged, but by then the sun had gone low. James was ready to turn it off and go to sleep, but as he turned to look it came to life. With a fancy fanfare and a bright rainbow design, the pad went into a standard video game opening followed by a character creation screen. James grunted and picked up the controller.

There was the option of simple versus detailed, and since he wanted to get it over as quickly as possible, he pushed the stick to the left and hit simple. That gave him the standard palette of eight colors, and he hovered briefly over black before deciding to go with green.

A hoof appeared on screen in the color he’d picked, but the color selector flashed and remained. Oh, he thought. Hair color. Red and green match, don’t they? He wasn’t sure about it, but selected red anyway and hit accept. The screen pulled back to show a pony in profile, and one way or another it got the colors to not clash. Fine.

The eight squares of color animated themselves away to be replaced by two squares, one with a male symbol and one with a female. Without stopping to think he moved the stick right to the male and hit accept again. It was then that he noticed a progress bar that changed from “3 of 4” to “4 of 4” as another bit of animation came up. This was three boxes, and here James finally had to read, as it talked about Earth Pony, pegasus, and unicorn. Each one had a capsule description.

“Yeah, OK, I’m going to go with the one that exists.”

Before he could move the selector, the Earth Pony box highlighted itself, and the entire scene faded out. What appeared in its place was a cartoon castle that shined even brighter. It was not even necessary for James to turn on the light. The scene cut to an inner room, and there was the character he’d created.

Whatever degree of masculinity the creation engine had built in was heightened by the distinctly feminine figure to its left. Thin almost to the point of being gaunt, it was a study in pink, purple, and gold.

“Greetings,” it said. The speakers had perfect sound reproduction. “I am the artificial intelligence that runs Equestria Online. I am Princess CAIdance.” Subtitles appeared showing the spelling.

“That’s hard to say.”

“My full name is Princess Mi Amore CadenzAI. Would you prefer that?”

James raised an eyebrow at the speech recognition, but it was supposed to be his communication portal to talk to his mother. “No, CAIdance will do.”

“Thank you for going through the character creation screen. There are many people, especially those whose PonyPads were a gift as yours was, who refuse to do so and insist on talking to me directly. There invariably follows some butting of heads. My prime objective is to satisfy your values through friendship and ponies. Since you have a pony representative, you help me meet my criteria.”

“Whatever. Could I speak to my mother?”

CAIdance scowled. “One other thing I need you to do. I have to give you a pony name. Normally there’s a starting quest to walk to the castle and learn the controls, but I know you don’t want to do that. But would you accept being called something different in Equestria?”

“Sure, if that’s the rules.”

“Thank you. How about Bright Wood?”

“OK. Why?”

“Most ponies have nature names, or names that are ordinary words made into names.”

James gave a bored wave of his hand. His interest had waned and now all he wanted to do was ensure that his mother was safe and knew that he cared about her during her transition, and then go back to lazing around.

On the screen CAIdance gestured with her hooves, and the setting changed. The palace crossfaded into a bucolic path leading to a house that strongly resembled the one that James had grown up in before they had had to move into apartments.

Out of this house came a pony that James was amused to see had a similar color scheme to the one he’d created. But also a distinct set of features that made him sure that this was…

“Mom?”

“Hi, son.”

There was an awkward silence, but the pony that was now his mother seemed placidly content. “So this is how it’s going to be now?” he asked.

“Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy.” She was the only one he permitted to use the diminutive. “I love you just as much as I did yesterday. This is just a new way for me to express it, as it’s a new way I do everything. It’s not that bad, you’ll see.”

And he did, for two weeks later, James himself asked to emigrate to Equestria.