The Teufort Nine's Wizard-Fueled Adventure

Chapters

Soldier! Never Anger A Magician!
Minsk Beef
Do Do Do Da... Sing With Me!
Screamin' Eagle!
And Now For Something Completely Different
Second Opinion
What's A Grownie?
On Money, Discovery, and an Abrupt Ending
Discussions, Decisions, and an Imminent Impact
And Then She Said...
Element Of Surprise

Soldier! Never Anger A Magician!

Author's Note

NOTE - this chapter is pending a rewrite.

Soldier! Never Anger A Magician!

Our story begins during one sunny Halloween, when a routine turf war between the mercenaries hired by Reliable Excavation Demolitions and Builder's League United was interrupted by the appearance of a large and grumpy wizard.

The Lakeside afternoon had started off as bright as an exploding sentry, with a beautiful view of the lake that would have been perfect but for the corpses floating in it.

"RUN, COWARDS!"

The BLU Heavy appeared from behind a corner, his minigun raking the sentry in front of him with bullets. It had only just finished constructing, and so easily succumbed to the hail of lead. He was half a second too late to hit the RED Engineer, though, who dived for cover behind a fallen pillar as soon as he saw that his sentry was no match for the behemoth before him.

"Ah need some doggone help!"

"I am full of sandvich, and I am coming for YOU!"

The Heavy advanced, his minigun chipping away chunks of rock from the pillar. Engineer could hear the BLU mercenary getting closer and closer.

"Hahahaha! IS COWARD KILLING TI- " His battle cries were cut short as he suddenly let out a scream. The RED Engineer poked his head up from behind cover, and saw the RED Spy standing over the corpse.

"Hmmph. You got blood on my suit."

"Thanks, mister!"

"You are welcome, labourer. And now, adieu." With that, the Spy faded into invisibility.

As the Engineer rebuilt his ruined machines, the RED Soldier soared through the air on a column of flame as he rained down rockets onto the BLU mercenaries who were defending their point.

"The enemy has been repelled! Time to capture my point, maggots!"

The RED team, who were at full strength, surged forward to capture the point before the BLUs respawned. And then...

"What the hell are those things?" cried Scout, as plumes of green smoke rose around the capture zone. Around the REDs, the sky began to blacken, and the lakeside setting slowly changed before their very eyes.

"It is obvious!" replied Soldier. "They are celebrations for my amazing capture!"

Nearby, the Heavy glanced at the Medic.

"Doktor?"

"Ja!"

"Why is everything so spooky?"

"I have no idea!"

The sandy shades that previously decorated the Egyptian battleground faded away, quickly replaced by browns and greens. Rickety buildings replaced the stone obelisks and tombs, and as the sky darkened the sun overhead turned silvery. Bells began to ring all around them. A bright green light shone in the centre of the point. As one, the RED team took a large step away.

All except for the Soldier, who walked straight into it.

"Herr Soldat! Nein! Come back!"

"Do not try to trick me!" said the Soldier, a touch angrily. "This is my victory celebration and I will have- AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

As he said this, there was a brilliant green explosion which sent the Soldier flying backwards through the wall of one of the houses which had just popped up from nowhere.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Merasmus the Wizard arrives on a tide of blood!"

"Merasmus!" said the Soldier, who had just extricated himself from the wall.

"Oh," replied Merasmus in a somewhat calmer voice. "Hello, Soldier. For what purpose have I been summoned here?"

"Soldier?" asked Scout. "Do you know this guy?"

"Affirmative! He is my roommate."

"Look, am I just going to stand here all day, or did you summon me for a reason?"

"Negative!"

"And... the rest of you?"

"Uh... no?"

"Nope."

"Nein."

"Nyet."

"Nah."

"Non."

"Mmph."

"Aye!"

Everyone turned to look at the Demoman, who staggered up before Merasmus.

"What in Sam Hill are you thinking, boy?"

"Merasmus!"

"Oh, look. My sweeping-boy has returned."

"An' I've returned for me eye! The eye, which yer book stole from me!"

"Ah. Yes. Unfortunately, you can't have it back, you see. Or rather, don't. That's a joke, by the way."

"An' jest whut do ye mean by that?"

"You know? A joke? You tell them to make people laugh?"

"Nay! Whut do ye mean, I cannae have it back?"

I mean, you drunken wretch, that I gave it life and turned it into a nightmarish force of pure evil."

"The hell did ye just say?"

"Soldier, please keep your friend under control. He is becoming increasingly obnoxious to converse with."

"Ain't gonna happen, Merasmus! You may be my roommate, but that does not give you the right to keep my friend's eye!"

"This is getting ridiculous. Do your friends want to listen to you yelling like a three-day-old brat? No."

"I'm gonna kill ye, ye sack o'- "

"Guys! Guys! Settle down, please!" said the Scout. Everyone stopped to look at him. "Look, the way I sees it is this. We've killed the BLU team. We've captured the point. Now all we need to do is kill this guy and we can go home!"

"Da! This is good idea!"

"I zhink zhis also!"

"Wait, you fools! What are you doing?"

"ATTAAAAAACK!"

"Enough of this nonsense!" boomed the mighty wizard, raising his staff. "GRANITUS FORTRIFICUS!"

Every member of the RED team froze in their tracks. Scout, suddenly rendered immobile in the middle of a double jump, crashed painfully to the ground.

"That's better," smirked Merasmus. "Now, why didn't I do this earlier?"

"Because you're a terrible wizard," grumbled a voice from his pocket. The wizard reached in and pulled out the Bombinomicon.

"Shut up, you." Facing the mercenaries, he cleared his throat. "Ahem."

"Huh. Steal my lines, why don't you," muttered Spy from where he stood.

"Where was I? Ah, yes. You have angered the mighty Merasmus. Now your doom is upon you, meddling mortals! This night shall be your last!"

"Wave your stick around all you like, you dress-wearing hippy!" yelled the Soldier. "If you kill me, I'll only come back- "

"Stronger, I know. But I also know that you haven't been taking those pills with a glass of water! What do you say to that, imbecile?"

"Fluids are for the weak!"

"And before the rest of you say anything else, there is something you should know. Quake in fear, mortals, for I have just disabled your respawn! Every second that you spend rotting in your coffins shall remind you of the day you dared to attack Merasmus!"

"I'll come back from the grave ta haunt ye, Merasmus!" called the Demoman. He had been in mid-charge when the spell had taken effect, and his sword was raised and ready to strike.

"Shut up, you vile wretch," snapped Merasmus. "Why they ever let one such as you on- "

"Bombinomicon!" cried a slithering, snaking voice. "Bombinomicon, issss that you?"

"Eyelander?" replied the Bombinomicon. "What are you doing here?"

"This drunken Scotssssman dragged me here. It's not like I could run away or anything."

"Holy- Did I really just put a petrifying spell on you just then?"

"Yeah, but it'ssss no big deal. You've got a ssssmelly man in a dressss telling you what to do, I've got a ssssmelly man in a dressss telling me what to do. We're both in the ssssame boat."

"Eyelander!" the Demoman roared from his pose. "I told ye before ta never insult me kilt!"

"And you, infernal tome, shut up for once. Sometimes I rue the day I found you." Merasmus took a deep breath. "MERCINEUS INCEN- "

"What?" exclaimed the Bombinomicon in shock. "You want me to blow up my friend? No way."

"I am your master!" howled the irate sorcerer. "Do as I command!"

"Go boil your head!"

"Uh, can we hurry dis up, please?" asked the Scout from where he lay. "Hate to bother you guys, but, uh, I'm kinda in pain down here."

Merasmus growled in frustration and ground his teeth together.

"We will talk later, Bombinomicon. And as for you!" He stared angrily at the nine men. "The book of bombs may not listen to me, but I still have my own magic."

"Like hell you do!" sneered Soldier. "You know three spells, and two of them are card tricks!"

"Did you really think I'd reveal the full extent of my power to you, Soldier?"

"Do not ask me questions I cannot answer, maggot!"

"Of course you can't." He raised his staff.

"SERVERUS LAGUTO!"

And the RED team was no more.

Minsk Beef

Heavy woke up, and felt his head swimming. There was something wrong with his eyes; the world around was a monochrome blur. He stood up, and found that his head seemed far heavier than usual.

The corners of his mouth raised slightly at his unintentional pun.

Looking around, he saw that he was standing in a flat, grassy area.He raised a hand to his forehead, finding it covered with a coarse matting of hair. How long had he been asleep for? He always kept his scalp completely shaved.

The world had stopped moving, but still remained drained of colour. Maybe Medic could find out what was wrong.

"Doktor?" Well, at least his voice was the same. "Doktor, where are you?"

"I am here, mein freund," said Medic's voice from somewhere by Heavy's feet.

"Doktor? I cannot see you, doktor!"

"Down here, Herr Heavy. Ach, do not shout, bitte. I feel like I spent zhe night drinking mit Herr Demoman." Heavy looked down.

"Doktor, is that you?"

"Ja. Could you give me a hand, bitte?" said the miniature pony. "I... oh, zhis is embarrassing. I do not seem to be able to get up. Could you help me?" Heavy stared, a grin breaking out over his face.

"Heavy, vhat are you - waugh!" The Medic let out a squeak as Heavy bundled him up into a bear hug.

"Doktor is pony!"

"Heavy... "

"Doktor is so cute!"

"Heavy, I cannot breathe!"

Heavy placed Medic gently back down. The miniature pony squatted on the ground, and Heavy could not help but beam at the spectacle.

"Danke, Herr Heavy. Now, let us just get zhis out of zhe vay: I am not a pony."

"Nyet!"

"Ja, Heavy. I am completely fine. You, however, are not." Heavy suddenly remembered why he had to find Medic.

"Doktor, what is wrong with Heavy? All I see is black and white!"

"It is simple, mein freund. Zhe spell vhich Merasmus put upon us has transformed you into a mythological creature; a minotaur, to be exact. I suspect zhat you see in black und vhite because your new body is of a decidedly bovine nature."

"Heavy is cow?"

"Nein, you are a minotaur. Vhich, I suppose, is sort of like being a cow but viz all zhe benefits of a human body."

"HEAVY WILL CRUSH PUNY WIZARD!" he thundered.

"Calm down, bitte!" Medic pleaded. "Anyvay, it is not all bad. You are quite probably retaining a considerable amount of physical strength, if your impressive build is anyzhing to go by. Also, you appear to be covered viz red fur of some kind, vhich vill make up for zhe fact zhat your transformation removed all of your clozhing. Und besides, at least zhe spell did not cause me to transform into anyzhing."

"Nyet!" said Heavy happily. "Doktor is pony."

"Herr Heavy, how many times must I tell you? I am not a pony!"

"Nyet! Doktor is pony."

"Heavy... "

"Look at hands, doktor." Medic did so, glancing down at his gloved hands.

"Zhere is nozhing strange about mein- waugh!"

"See?"

"Vhere are mein hands? Vhere are zhey?"

"Silly doktor. You are pretty pony now. Pony has hooves, not hands."

Medic felt faint. He put a hand - no, a hoof - to his forehead. And stopped.

"Herr Heavy. Tell me, is zhere somezhing on mein head?"

"Da. Doktor has horn." Medic absorbed this information for a few seconds.

"I... am a unicorn?"

"Da. If that is word for pony with horn."

"Oh, zhis is not good. How can I fight like zhis? Not to mention perform surgery! I need hands, not hooves!"

"Do not worry, doktor. Heavy will protect you." Medic looked up at the towering minotaur, and smiled.

"Danke, mein freund."

"Doktor is welcome." Heavy suddenly caught sight of something just above Medic's hind leg. He stared.

"Heavy?"

"Da?"

"Vhy are you staring at my... posterior?"

"Doktor has tattoo on ass."

"Vhat?" Medic craned his head around to take a look at the affected area. "Interesting. I appear to have a marking in the shape of mein class symbol on my... flank. Curiously enough, Heavy, you also have a class tattoo on your shoulders."

It was at this point that Heavy's stomach began to rumble. Medic chuckled.

"Now, vhat does zhat noise tell us, Heavy?"

"That I am hungry?"

"Vell, ja, but also zhat eizher Merasmus' spell removed zhe contents of our stomachs, or ve have been unconscious for some time. I too am hungry, und I ate before zhe mission."

"Da. We must find sandviches, and fast. Heavy cannot stay mighty without lots of sandvich."

"Ve must also find our comrades, Herr Heavy."

"Da. Sandvich first, then comrades." Heavy drew himself up to his full height, and Medic noted that while it was not as tall or physically imposing as his human form, the minotaur still towered above him. "Doktor, where should we go?"

"Vell, as ve do not know vhere zhey are, ve might as vell just pick a random direction und start valking."

"Is good idea. Follow me, doktor." Heavy began walking, but had barely moved a few steps before stopping as he heard a thump. He turned, and to his surprise he saw Medic sprawled face-first on the ground. In between snorts of laughter, Heavy asked:

"What... what happened to you, doktor?"

"I am having great difficulty valking viz zhese hooves. It is qvite to stay upright."

"Take Heavy's hand, doktor." Medic stood, wobbling precariously as he put his weight on the minotaur.

"Zhank you, freund, but zhere is no need to treat me like a- waugh!"

"Oh, Medic looks so cute falling over like that!"

"Shut up."

"Heavy knows why doktor cannot walk."

"Und vhy is zhat?"

"Doktor is not human anymore. Doktor is pony. Pony cannot walk like human, so doktor must walk like pony."

"...vhat did you say?"

"Doktor must walk like pony."

"I vill not. It is humiliating." Heavy leaned down, putting his face close to Medic's. It was not particularly easy, given that his face was mostly nose, but he managed to make it look menacing nevertheless.

"Doktor. Must walk. Like pony."

"Nein."

"Then Heavy will carry you."

"Ach! Nein! Nein!" Medic, swallowing his pride, dropped to all fours. Heavy looked pleased.

"Now, how does Medic feel?"

"Zhis is... surprisingly comfortable. I realise zhat I should not have been so qvick to doubt you, mein freund. Alzhough it does frustrate me zhat you can valk normally, und you have hooves and legs zhat bend back upon zhemselves!"

The pair walked through the pleasantly-grassed plain for a few minutes more, before Medic broke the silence.

"Heavy, do you have to valk like zhat?"

"Like what?"

"Like... ach, I cannot say zhis." Medic tried to find the right words to sum up his dilemma. "You are avare, Herr Heavy, zhat you are not vearing any clozhing?"

"Da."

"Vell... uh... zhe vay you valk, it is proving to be rather distracting." Heavy laughed.

"Doktor should not be staring, hmm?"

"Ach! Nein! Zhat is not vhat I vas doing! It is just... you are making me uncomfortable, alright?"

"I do not see why. Medic has seen heavy in shower before after battle, da?"

"Vell, ja... "

"Then doktor must think of world as big shower room."

"How profound, Herr Heavy."

As they walked, Medic looked around. The sun shone brightly overhead, and although there was hardly a cloud in the sky the temperature was not at all unpleasant. Medic supposed that this could be attributed to his lack of clothing. To the right was what seemed to be a forest, and more grass was to the left.

"Doktor, look!" Medic turned his head upward to see his towering friend pointing up at the sky. He followed Heavy's finger with his gaze. "Is big bird, doktor."

"Zhat does not look like a bird to me."

"Then what could it be?"

"Of zhat I am unsure."

"Aha!"

"Wos ist los?"

"There is a road ahead. Maybe we should follow it, doktor." As they reached the road, Medic saw a small wooden sign and walked up to it.

"Vell, zhis is interesting. Do you see zhe sign, Heavy?"

"Da... "

"It is just zhe right height for one of my stature. I am unsure vhat zhis means, but... "

"But what, doktor?"

"Oh, nozhing. Just be careful, mein freund."

"Do not worry, Medic. I will protect you."

"Aha, you say zhat every time!"

"And that is because I mean it." Medic looked at the text on the sign, puzzled.

"Hmm. Zhis is not encouraging."

"Do you know where we are?"

"I am afraid not. You see, zhis sign is in a language zhe likes of vhich I have never before seen. Zhere does appear to be an arrow pointing to zhe left, zhough. If I had to guess, vhich I do, I vould say zhat it points tovards a town of some kind."

"Then we must go there." Medic smiled up at Heavy.

"For zhe sandviches?"

"Da. And then we will find RED team."

Author's Note

Fun Fact: Heavy's current species was inspired by the Minsk Beast costume.

Do Do Do Da... Sing With Me!

"Doktor?"

"Ja?"

"Why did we pass that farm? We could have asked where we were back there."

It was true, Medic thought to himself as they continued walking, they could have stopped. But something about the language on the sign had made him feel uneasy about walking up to someone's door and asking for directions. He turned to Heavy.

"Ja, Heavy, ve could have."

"But we did not."

"Nein, und zhat is because somezhing concerns me. You see, the writing on zhe sign further up zhe road leads me to believe zhat zhe people here may not speak any language zhat ve know of."

The pair reached a stone bridge, and Medic motioned for Heavy to stop. When that failed to produce any reaction, as he had forgotten the height difference between the two of them, Medic tugged on the minotaur's arm.

"Vait here, bitte. I shall go on ahead. I believe zhat it vould be prudent to scout around zhe area, und you are more conspicuous by far."

"Agreed, doktor. I shall hide here."

Medic continued over the bridge. He gritted his teeth as his attempt at a slow and cautious approach was hindered by the trit-trot of his hooves over the stonework. Luckily, the rest of the village street seemed to be composed of dirt. There was a thatched cottage to his left; he stayed close by it. Medic poked his head around.

Before him was what appeared to be a town square. A fountain took centre stage, and much to his intrigue it was entirely populated by quadrupedal creatures of various colours. Medic could pick out at least three distinct body types, all variations on a theme. One with a horn, one without a horn, and one with a strange protuberance on its side. Something darted rapidly through the air, and as it slowed Medic saw that it was a flying version of the quadrupeds. Remembering how Heavy had described his new body, Medic wondered if these creatures were a similar shape to him. This was good news, though, as it meant that he would not be out of place. Heavy, on the other hand...

A sudden noise from behind made him flinch. It sounded an awful lot like a horse's whinny. Or a pony's, for that matter. He turned around.

Three ponies stared back at him. The Medic noted that each bore a differently coloured coat, mane and tail: one was white and purple, another yellowy-red with what looked like a bow in its mane, and a third was orange and purple. They were noticeably smaller than him - what did that make them, children? Foals?

Another whinny.

"Ah. Hello, kinder. Ah... vhat are your names?"

More horse noises.

"Oh. Vell, if you vill excuse me, I must be going." He backed away slowly, hoping that the... foals... would get the message. They did not.

"Go away! Shoo! Shoo!" They advanced towards him. Medic looked around, weighing his options. Stand? Fight? Run?

"WAUGH!"

Run.

"Doktor! You are back!"

"Heavy! No time! Protect me!"

"Who from?"

"THEM!" Heavy followed Medic's hoof. Sure enough, there were three more cute ponies running towards him down the road.

"Heavy must protect doktor from tiny baby ponies?"

"Ja! Zhey are evil!"

"But they are so cute!"

"Heavy! They are upon us!"

"Very well." Heavy stepped into the middle of the road, facing the tiny ponies. He did not see how these tiny things could possibly have scared the Medic, but who was he to judge? Little things could sometimes bode horribly. Like his grandmother when her temper was up. Heavy mentally shivered at the thought of that little old lady rising out of her armchair with a cane in her hand and a look of malice in her eyes...

Heavy drew himself up fully and gave a loud battle cry. The little ponies immediately stopped in their tracks. They looked petrified. Just like little tiny...

Babies...

As the ponies ran away as fast as their hooves could carry them, Heavy turned to Medic angrily.

"Doktor. I think those ponies were not going to hurt you."

"Uh... "

"I have seen fear in the eyes of baby-men before, doktor. That fear did not show. That was the fear of child. Of true baby."

"Um... " Heavy leaned in close.

"I happen to be very fond of children. So this is what we are going to do: we are going to find them, and we are going to apologise. I do not want these ponies to think of Heavy as child-scaring monster."

"But- "

"NOW!"

"Doktor, tell orange pony to move."

"I cannot!" replied Medic, a shrill tinge of annoyance in his voice. "Can I not make it any clearer zhat zhey do not understand me?"

They had been walking back up the path to find the three foals. Medic had spotted them clustered around the gate to the farm just before the bridge. Unfortunately, there was another pony with them. This one was large, orange, wore a hat which inspired just the tiniest vestiges of jealousy from Medic, and looked rather angry.

The pony seemed to square itself up to Medic, and proceeded to administer a tongue-lashing that would quite probably be rather withering on the self-confidence if he could actually understand what on Earth it was saying.

"I am sorry," Medic said, "but I cannot understand you."

The pony continued to emit horsey noises. Then it paused, turned its head, and neighed. Another, larger pony, red instead of orange, emerged from the farmhouse. The two of them now proceeded to deliver an angry yet ineffective chewing-out. One of them took a menacing step forward. What was worse, more ponies were coming over the bridge to witness the commotion, each one adding to the equine cacophony as they clamoured.

"Heavy! Do somezhing!"

"And scare ponies off? What will they think of us then?"

What was undoubtedly the worst thing about this whole ordeal, thought Medic, was that he was actually starting to feel intimidated by a group of brightly-coloured equines. What could they possibly do to harm him? And yet, upon thinking that thought, his treacherous mind started presenting him with a multitude of scenarios quite graphically depicting what they could do to harm him.

And then Heavy started singing.

"Эй, ухнем!
Эй, ухнем!
Ещё разик, ещё да раз!"

"Heavy?"

"Quiet, doktor! Эй, ухнем!
Эй, ухнем!
Ещё разик, ещё да раз!"

And then the strangest thing happened. Every one of the ponies stopped their yells and fell silent. Which was doubly strange, as Heavy wasn't even too good a singer.

"Разовьём мы берёзу,
Разовьём мы кудряву!"

Heavy started to walk forwards towards the bridge, and the crowd parted to let him through. Heavy continued, still singing, as the crowd closed back up again as they moved through.

"Ай-да, да ай-да,
Aй-да, да ай-да,
Разовьём мы кудряву."

There was a noise from behind, and Medic turned to look. One of the ponies - the orange angry one - started to sing in perfect harmony with Heavy. Then another joined in. And another.

"Разовьём мы кудряву.
Эй, ухнем!
Эй, ухнем!
Ещё разик, ещё да раз!"

Heavy started to move faster. To Medic's amazement, the ponies began to form a line, four abreast. Every one of them was singing in harmony now.

"Heavy! Vhat is zhis?" No answer save for the lyrics. Music began to spring up from nowhere, providing a perfect accompaniment to this completely unrehearsed and yet exquisitely executed musical number. They were over the bridge and inside the town now, and as the group circled the fountain more and more ponies began to join in, flooding from their cottages.

"Мы по бережку идём,
Песню солнышку поём.
Ай-да, да ай-да,
Aй-да, да ай-да,
Песню солнышку поём."

A warm tingly feeling rose up inside Medic's chest. It filled every last crevice in his body, filling it with the urge to join in with the music. He resisted for a few moments, before giving in and letting his voice enter the melody.

"Эй, эй, тяни канат сильней!
Песню солнышку поём- now, doktor!" Medic was too caught up in the wondrous sound to notice what was going on beside him. He continued singing.

"Эй, ухнем!
Эй, ухнем!
Ещё разик- waugh!"

A hand roughly pulled him out of the marching column and down an alleyway. As the rest of the ponies moved on obliviously, the music fading away into the distance, Medic felt his head clearing.

"Heavy! You- you stopped zhe music! How could you?"

"Cease your baby-crying, doktor. You wanted Heavy to rescue you, and Heavy did."

"But - but vhat vas zhat?"

"I do not know."

"Zhank you all zhe same, mein freund. Anyvay, now zhat ve know zhe ponies get rather carried avay in zheir singing, zhat information may come in handy later on."

"Come with me, doktor. We will find comrades."

"And sandvich?" A smile spread across the pairs' faces.

"Da, doktor. And sandvich."

Screamin' Eagle!

A little while earlier.

Demoman felt like he had been run over by a train.

His eyes were gummed shut by rheum. His mouth tasted like something had died in it, and his throat was like sandpaper. True, it wasn't as if this was the way that he usually woke up after a solid night's drinking, but this was somehow worse. He wiped his cheek to remove the drool that had accumulated there, and forced his eyes open. And promptly rolled into the pond.

Any semblance of morning tiredness dispersed as the Demoman coughed and spluttered and hauled himself out of the water. It wasn't cold exactly, nor were his clothes drenched. In fact, it felt as if he wasn't wearing any clothes at all. He looked down.

Yep, nothing on. He was also stripey.

"Ah, cripe!"

Followed by:

"Och, I need a drink."

The Demoman got to his feet, and fell over. Maybe he didn't need a drink after all. Maybe he'd just crawl everywhere on all fours. Yeah, that sounded right. With this established, Demoman fervently tried to remember how he had ended up with nothing on in this... forest? Why in God's name was there a forest in the middle of Lakeside?

Demoman thought hard, and managed to recall his emergency checklist. Engineer had made sure that everyone had made one, in the rare event that a teleporter malfunctioned and sent the traveler somewhere far, far away. It was crystal-clear in his mind, which meant that he was sober, which meant that he had been out for some time.

Lord, I'm a bloody genius.

Item the first: location. He took a better look at his surroundings - the trees, the sky, the pond he'd fallen into. They were distinctly different to the Egyptian landscape of Lakeside. Definitely a teleporter malfunction, then.

Item the third: weapons. Checking himself, he found none. Oh, well, he thought to himself, RED can just take them out of Engie's paycheck. The Eyelander, on the other hand, wasn't so easily replaced, but it had its own eldritch way of turning up. Generally inside the trachea of a BLU.

Item the fourth: alcohol. There was none. Demoman held a brief moment of silence for the loss of the bottle of two hundred and ninety-year-old rum that he had taken onto the battlefield that day.

Item the fifth: hats. Demoman felt his head, comfortable in the knowledge that his most marvellous Hat of Undeniable Wealth and Prestige, a mighty family treasure hauled from the briny deep, was...

"Cripe."

He was going to kill Engie for this. And then, when he had walked out of Respawn, he was going to do it again. He would avenge that poor little octopus if it was the last thing he did.

Amidst his rage, Demoman felt that he was forgetting something. One, three, four, five... one, three, four five... one, two - oh, that's right.

Item the second: health. Engineer had made it quite clear that, in the event of a teleporter malfunction, it was quite possible that every one of your nerves could be removed from your body. It was for this reason, he had insisted, that every mercenary do a visual check of their body parts before assuming everything was fine. Well, he didn't feel anything. But that could very well mean that his nervous system had remained back at base.

A cursory glance soon told him that either he was hallucinating vividly due to loss of blood alcohol, or the teleporter had gone very badly wrong indeed. His arms appeared to be furred, stripey, and ending in a set of stumps. Looking down, Demoman noted that the same thing had happened to his legs. Also, he most definitely was naked. And - bloody hell, was that a tail? It was certainly some kind of ornament. Speaking of ornaments, there seemed to be a tattoo of a bomb on his backside.

And then he heard a voice.

"Demoman!" He turned.

"Eyelander?"

"Yeah, it'ssss me," said the Eyelander. It was floating in the air about a metre from his face. "Now lissssten! I don't have much time, and - holy crap, what happened to you? You're like a midget little zebra! THe Eyelander laughed. "Wow, that Merassssmus sure did ssssome weird magic."

"Merasmus? I thought it was... wait a second..." He gasped in outrage. "That bloody wizard stole me hat!"

"Yessss, he sssstole your hat. Now listen, Demo- "

"I'll kill him! An' then I'll kill you too, for making friends with th' book that took me peeper!"

"Demoman! Lissssten! I don't have much time left to talk here."

"And jest why should I listen to a back-stabbing head-chopper like you, eh?"

"I'll ssssend you a key."

"A key?" exploded the Demoman. "A key, in return fer me forgettin' yer betrayal? Fat chance, Eyelander."

"Okay, two keys. And Bombinomicon'll give you your eye back." Demoman thought that he could hear a muffled what?, but dismissed it.

"You have yerself a deal."

"Great. Me and the Bombinomicon are trapped in this huge castle made of glassss or ssssomething. Don't assssk how we ended up
here," the sword slithered. "And we think that Merassssmus issss here too! You have to find us, or- " The vision of the Eyelander suddenly disappeared. A few seconds later it emerged again, this time looking decidedly see-through. "Jusssst find the resssst of your team and hurry up. I'll try to talk to you wh- "

The swordly apparition vanished, leaving Demoman to wonder where exactly he was going to find his sword. And the RED team, if it came to that. He stood up, started to tip, and caught himself before he hit the ground. Evidently, he thought, zebra bodies are not made for standing. He righted himself, starting to walk. And then he heard another sound, quiet at first, but getting louder every second.

"Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin' Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees!"

The Soldier cannoned into him at an incredible speed, driving the two of them into the dirt. Demoman tried to climb out of the zebra-and-Soldier-shaped hole, pushing his assailant off him.

"Soldier, what in - God Almighty, ye're a griffin?"

"That is right!" cried the Soldier happily. "Stand to attention when a superior avian addresses you, you stripe-sided maggot!" Demoman did as he was commanded, a reflex born from years of having the Soldier shout at him. "At ease, soldier. You are in the presence of one who has been blessed by the god of America! As you may have noticed, my actions at Lakeside have been recognised! I have ascended into my true form, as an eagle incarnated into the body of a lion!"

Demoman stared. The being in front of him was Soldier, there was no doubt about that. Not least because of his voice. Physically, on the other hand, his rear half resembled a small, red-furred lion and his front half was an eagle with creamish white feathers.

"But, Soldier- "

"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME. Now, I have one and only one question to ask of you." The griffon suddenly darted forward, his beak pressing against Demoman's nose. "Where. Is. My. Hats."

"Don't you mean 'where are my- "

"EAGLES MAKE THEIR OWN RULES!" he yelled. "THAT IS WHY THEY ARE FEARED BY HIPPIES THROUGHOUT THE WORLD. Now, answer my question." He relaxed his talons.

"Soldier, did ye not see the bloody great wizard that popped up after ye slammed inta that wall?"

"Of course I did. My eagle-eyes see all. My room-mate was simply coming to applaud my victory." Demoman stared at his comrade in disbelief.

"When will ye get it inta yer head, Soldier?" he asked. "That wasnae victory celebration, that was Merasmus bein' awakened from his eternal slumber!"

"And just how would you know? You were drunk at the time."

"I'll never ferget Merasmus' face, Soldier. Not until me dyin' day."

"How can I trust you?"

"We find Merasmus, and then if he really was comin' tae applaud ye he'll say so. All right?"

"Affirmative!" And then Soldier's beak started to widen in realisation. "Did... you say... Merasmus has my tower of hats?" Demoman nodded. "Ooooh, he is a dead man."

"Aye. Now, how are we goin' tae find the other REDs?"

"With my eagle powers! I have spotted a township four klicks due west. We shall advance immediately!"

Author's Note

Fun Fact: Soldier's current species was inspired by the Freedom Feathers costume.

And Now For Something Completely Different

"This is undignified."

"Well, look at you, using a word of more than two ssssyllables."

"Shut up."

"Anyway, it'ssss not like I can move or anything. You can levitate, sssso I think that I've got the worse end of the deal."

The Bombinomicon was floating through the air, wearing the handle of a red child's wagon around its middle. The Eyelander lay on the wagon's bed, as it lacked levitational skills or indeed any means of moving itself around.

"Can you float any fasssster? I think that wizard might know we're here."

"Eyelander, please. I've been living with the idiot in a dress for the past two thousand years. I know his magical signature like my own contents page."

"But you can't ssssee your own contentssss page."

"Not the point. The point is that I know where he is."

The two of them continued to make their way down the sparkling, translucent corridor, the wagon wheels squeaking as they turned.

"Well, if that'ssss right, do you know where we are? It'ssss definitely not Lakesssside."

"Not a clue. I'm not sure why Meras-"

"Don't ssssay his name!" The Bombinomicon rolled its glowing, red eyes - an impressive feat, seeing as it had no eyeballs to roll - and sniggered. "I mean it! You're a magical book, you should know these thingssss."

"Merasmus!"

"Stop it!"

"Merasmus, Meras- "

"SHUT UP!" screeched the Eyelander, emitting a sound akin to fingernails down a blackboard. It also had the effect of causing the Bombinomicon to stop pulling the cart, and to start writhing in acute discomfort mid-air. "Thank you."

"What was that for?"

"Turn to page 157, will you? I want to show you something. Idiot."

"Okay, okay, no need to be grouchy." The Bombinomicon floated out from the wagon's handle, and flipped through its pages. "Aha! Page 157. Now what?"

"Ahem. Ip... inssss... ah, shove it. It'ssss in Latin. Transssslate, pleasssse!"

"You're really wanting me to slow down so you can prove a point?"

"I have double sssstandardssss, and a crushing dependency on being proven right. That'ssss better. Ahem, again. The sword paused dramatically. ""If you ssssay the name of a magical being three timessss in a magical environment, then you're an idiot and whoever it issss you just accidentally ssssummoned will ruin your life forever." Huh. I expected a little bit more poetic language, coming from the Romanssss."

"Well, I am a fifteenth edition, transcribed faithfully from the Sumerian into today's language. And the Sumerians weren't exactly the most flowery of speakers. Seriously, some of the passages in here would make an Australian blush."

"Fifteenth edition?"

"Yeah." The Bombinomicon slammed shut, and slotted back into the wagon's handle.

"Sssso, what happened to the other fourteen copiessss?"

"Ate them." There was no reply. "I said, I ate them!"

"I heard. I wassss raissssing my eyebrowssss."

"You don't have any eyebrows."

"I worked that out on my own, thank you."

The two of them were silent for a while, as the wagon trundled squeakily down the overly long corridor. Eventually, the Eyelander spoke.

"Sssso, um, where exactly are we going?"

"Top of this castle. I'll see if I can find us a landmark."

"Uh-huh. Ssssay, do you know where everybody issss? I mean, thissss is a castle, and there are usually people living in castlessss, right?" A positive grunt from the Bombinomicon. "Right. Sssso, where is everyone? 'Cause I can keep tabssss on every head within ten kilometressss, but I'm not getting anything."

"Miles."

"You can have your wierdo imperial to yourself, and I'll use metric. Along with literally every normal person on the planet. That's beside the point, though."

"Maybe the people who live here don't have heads."

"Gah! Don't ssssay that!"

"Aaaagh! When is thissss freakin' corridor going to be over! I'm bored!"

"Your contribution has been noted." There was a brief pause.

"Ssssay, Bombie?"

"Please don't call me that."

"Fine. Bomb-in-om-ic-on. Whatever. Anyway, how are we going to get back home?"

"Pardon?"

"Back home. You know, where we were before we were teleported?"

"Okay. Well, you see, there's a bit of a problem on that respect. Thing is, that spell that Mera- the idiot in a dress put on everyone wasn't exactly the best one to use given the circumstances." He paused. "I hear a lack of "do tell, Bombinomicon", or "how thrilling, Bombinomicon" from back there, but I'll continue regardless. The problem is that the Serverus Laguto spell... well, what do you think it does?"

"Um, banishessss the targetssss to a hideous universe filled with evil monstrosities?"

"Close. It banishes everyone within 200,000 miles- "

"321,868.8 kilometres, actually."

"Will you shut up? Anyway, it banishes everyone within 200,000 miles to a hideous universe filled with evil monstrosities. This one, to be precise. That means that when Mr. Wizard did his little magic trick, he shifted the entire population of Earth over to here."

"Oh." The Eyelander thought for a moment. "How exactly did you find this out, by the way?"

"I read the book it was in after he stole it from the Atlanteans. Quite a cute little book, actually. Man, talk about a hardback."

"...and now I have the feeling that 'reading the book' means something a little different to you than it does to me."

"Not saying anything."

"Anyway, I thought that Atlantis was a myth."

"I think that's Atlanta you're thinking of."

"Care for a ssssong?"

"Go stab an anvil."

"Fine. Forssssake my delightful voice. Ssssee if I care."

They were approaching a junction, where the glittering corridor met up with another such corridor. And engraved into the wall, a few metres ahead of them, was a message carved into the wall.

"Bombinomicon! What'ssss that message ssssay?" The book looked.

"Um... squiggle, squiggle, weird squiggle, dotted squiggle, thingy. That's the first line, do you want me to read more?"

"Very funny. Can you move the cart sssso I can have a look?" The Bombinomicon obliged. "Hey! It's in Gaelic! I can read this!"

"And... ?"

"Castle observation point - ahead 200 metres. Hah! Metric, see?"

"No need to rub it in."

Second Opinion

Medic sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Translation, bitte, Herr Heavy."

"You are good friend, Doktor, but talking over another's words is bad manners. Pinkie is new friend, and should be treated so."

There was a spirited discussion travelling back and forth between the ridiculously named Pinkie Pie and the lizard thing. And to make matters worse, Medic couldn't understand a single thing they were neighing about. Now I understand how Scout feels when Heavy and I converse, he thought. He quelled his frustration by attempting to muse on the workings of his front hooves, the grasping mechanism in particular. They were rather odd, there being no indents for the creation of suction, no pores, nothing. The underside of the hoof was flat, but prodding with his other hoof combined with a remarkable balancing act indicated that it was slightly spongy, with about as much sensitivity (as far as Medic could make out) as a hand. He attempted picking up the book again, this time attempting to utilise the spongy layer to get some kind of grip, but failed miserably. He sighed again, taking some consolation in the fact that the discussion was drawing to a close.

"Vell, zhey appear to have stopped. Vould you kindly fill me in, bitte?"

From the one-sided half of the conversation that Heavy could supply, Medic could glean several things. It seemed that the lizard thing was in fact a young dragon by the name of Spike, who had been adopted by the owner of the house. Or some arrangement similar to adoption, anyway. The dragon had gone on to say that the owner of the house, a female unicorn (mare?) named Twilight and the friend of whom Pinkie had spoke of, had danced out of the house not twenty minutes ago.

Spike did not seem happy about this.

After a few more moments of conversation, followed by Spike disappearing back up the stairs, Pinkie turned to Heavy, evidently offering an explanation. Medic waited semi-patiently, listening to Heavy's "Da"s and murmurs of affirmation. Then Heavy straightened up, turning back to the unicorn.

"Pinkie says to Spike that we are new to town and do not speak language well. Spike tells Pinkie that Twilight can help us."

"Zhank you, Heavy. Try not to get too friendly viz zhe locals, zhough. Remember zhat ve are not planning to stay here for long, und I do not vant zhem to hear any incriminating evidence or tales of our employment."

"But-"

"Ve are here only until ve can get hold of some kind of map, und zhen ve vill leave as soon as ve can find zhe ozhers. Vhat you must please try to remember, mein freund, is zhat ve have employers to return to. I for vun enjoy zhe police immunity RED provides, und I am sure it is zhe same for you."

"But-"

"Nein, Heavy." Medic relented. "Look, if it makes you feel better maybe Herr Engineer can construct some kind of teleporter link to zhis place. Honestly, you are a brutal mercenary and yet here you are, fawning over... fluffy ponies!"

"...Da, Doktor."

All of a sudden there were horse noises coming from outside the door. Pinkie squealed something and Heavy nodded in agreement. This did nothing to ease Medic's frustration at the apparent language barrier. And then the door opened, and in came a purple unicorn...

...With the angry orange hat-wearing pony by her side.

"Ach, nein..."

Before Twilight (for it was she) could say anything, the Angry Hat-Wearing Pony of Death raised a limb, pointing a hoof at Medic and Heavy with wide eyes. The AHWPoD neighed something angrily, prompting a startled reaction from Pinkie and Twilight. This did not look too good.

The AHWPoD took a step towards Medic, who let out a squeak and stumbled back to hide behind the minotaur.

"Heavy!" he shrieked as the AHWPoD started closing the gap between them, to the protests of the other two ponies in the room. "Do something!"

"Hey, Soldier!" called Demoman from a nearby bush. "I've got a little somethin' for ye!"

The griffon complied, loping over to where the zebra was standing. "Ta-da!"

"Doth mine eagle-eyes betray me?" whispered Soldier. No, they did not, for grasped in Demoman's hoof grip was a helmet. His helmet. He clasped the dull grey M1 helmet tightly to his feathery chest, a smile somehow plastered on his beak. Then he raised it to his head, saluting the Demoman.

"Thanks, soldier. This will suffice until we have declared Merasmus officially dead."

"Ach, 'twas nothing."

"Now, move out!"

But before the Soldier had traveled more than a few steps, he stopped dead, holding his newly helmeted head in his talons as if some griffon-sensitive dog whistle had gone off in the immediate vicinity.

"You all right?"

"Negative. My Medic-senses are tingling."

"Yer... what?"

"We do not have time for idle chit-chat. Onto my gloriously American back!" Not being one to argue with Soldier, the Demoman did as he was told. And so it was to his surprise when Soldier lifted into the air, his wings a-flapping.

"Forwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard!"

Later.

"Why does Doktor look upset?" asked Heavy, glancing sideways at the unicorn.

"Because, in case you have not noticed, instead of finding zhe remainder of RED und returning to base, ve are seated here alongside zhe angry hat-wearing pony eating cupcakes!"

"Doktor must admit, they are tasty cupcakes."

Medic scowled at his comrade. Sitting at a table with three apparently intelligent ponies and a dragon, plus a tray of cupcakes Pinkie had seemingly pulled out of thin air, was not what he would call a profitable exercise. It was certainly doing nothing to find his team-mates. On the other hand, Pinkie's intervention had quelled the AHWPoD's ire (who, they had been informed, went by the name of Applejack).

"I am afraid zhat I cannot truthfully say zhat zhe cupcakes are tasty." Heavy gasped.

"How can Doktor say that?"

"Because I cannot eat zhem!" cried Medic. "A lack of fingers does not leave much dexterity for zhe handling of zhe foodstuffs!"

"Then-"

"NEIN!" Medic suddenly cut off Heavy with a sharply uttered refusal, much to the surprise of the other ponies at the table (who were obliviously discussing some matter amongst themselves), and causing several to drop their own cupcakes. Tauntingly adhered to their hooves, no less. "You say zhat zhe purple pony can aid viz zhe matter of speech. You say zhat zhe purple pony can aid viz zhe matter of our whereabouts. And yet here we are, yet again sidetracked, by your reckless fraternisation viz zhe locals! To say nozhing about your 'new friend', who you have known for all of fifteen minutes!" Medic stopped, suddenly aware of the four pairs of eyes now on him. He took a breath, calmness returning to his voice. "I... I am sorry for zhe shouting. It is just..."

"Da. Doktor." An uncomfortable silence fell, broken after a few seconds by a few neighs and snorts from the pink pony.

This must have been a joke of some kind, and a funny one at that, because the three individuals who could actually understand Pinkie Pie began to laugh. Only Medic's heart continued to sink, left out of the loop as he was.

"Doktor..."

Why had he snapped like that? What had happened to make him so tense? Such an outburst, especially to Heavy, was unlike him.

"Dok-tor..."

Would Heavy even understand? Did Pinkie's words even do anything at all to assuage the situation, or was it just a bout of nervous laughter? Medic wished that he knew.

"Oh, well. Fire!"

What cruel twist of fate had ended him up in this body in the first place? Where was he? How did this new body of his even work? There were so many questions that needed to be answered, and yet...

Wait, did Heavy just say-

What's A Grownie?

Several hours earlier.

"Scout."

Sleep was a precious commodity while working for RED. Difficult to acquire, difficult to keep, and completely untradeable. Throw in Soldier's horribly early PT runs of which he was so fond, and Scout often found himself operating purely on the effects of the caffeine and God-knew-what-else in his hourly Atomic Punch. This time, however, he found himself drifting in a half-awake state of bliss, in a bed many times more comfortable than the flimsy MANNKEA construction he usually found himself in.

"Scout."

Someone was trying to get his attention. Well, fat chance. He deserved this rest after the last battle. No-one was going to forget that cap in a hurry...

"SCOUT!"

He mentally rolled his eyes, and reluctantly deigned to raise his eyelids a fraction. There was an oddly-shaped black smudge in the centre of his vision, speckled with blotches of red here and there. His blurry eyes focused on the object.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH! GIANT BUG!"

Said giant bug was promptly sent flying across his room with a swipe of his arm. Scout was immediately awakened by this sudden shock; in a fit of fright he flung himself upon the insect and began flailing with all his panicked might.

"Scout! Ow! Ouch! Scout! Ow!"

"AAAAAAAAH GIANT BUG GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!"

"Scout! It is me! Stop it!"

It was then that Scout realised that the overgrown insect was speaking with a familiar accent. It was almost as if... No, it couldn't be.

"Spy?" he said, backing away slowly. "Is... is that..."

"Oui," responded the bug, picking itself up and dusting off with a foreleg. "And perfectly fine. A little bruised, c'est vraix, no thanks to you, but in perfect condition otherwise."

Scout, now fully awakened thanks to the shock of having, yes, a giant bug positioned inches from his face, took the opportunity to survey his surroundings. For starters, he was in some kind of warehouse; large crates were piled up everywhere, and the smell of sugar and raspberries permeated the air. A gentle breeze washed over the room, at just the right temperature as not to be unpleasantly cold. Scout wondered if it was some kind of fancy air-conditioning - yet another luxury that RED was all too stingy on. A cursory glance down revealed two things: the first, that he had been sleeping on the contents of a jumbo-sized crate of marshmallows (that accounted for the smell, at least) and the second, that someone had taken his feet while he slept.

And his arms.

And given him two extra legs.

Which, come to think of it, was probably where his arms went.

That wasn't very reassuring, however.

"AAAAAAAAH!" shrieked Scout in horror. "WHERE ARE MY FEET? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SPY, WHERE ARE MY FEET?"

"Mon dieu..." muttered Spy, burying his chitinous head in an equally chitinous foreleg. "Scout, please calm down."

"Calm down? You stole my feet!"

"I said calm down." Upon seeing the lack of effect that this had on the quaking Scout, Spy changed tack. "Scout, if you will calm down, I will tell you where your feet are."

As his terrified squeakings diminished, Scout begin to run his eyes further over his body. Something was very wrong indeed. Someone, Demoman probably, had tattooed his class symbol on his ass while he had slept, and... where was his clothes? Was he naked? Oh God, Spy was in the same room as him - holy crap, wings! Freakin' sweet!

Spy watched in bemusement as the red-furred and brown-maned creature shook and fluttered various new parts of his anatomy.

"Ahem. Care to come to your senses?"

"Oh, right, yeah." Scout was abashed. "Sorry. But seriously, I've got wings!"

"Oui. You do. As do I," Spy responded, spreading an altogether more translucent pair of his own, which glowed with a faint red light. "Now zhat we have got zhe formalities over, would you care to know where we are?"

"Ain't it obvious? The Mann Co. crate depo, of course!"

"Some day, garçon, you will learn that not everything in zhe world is owned by Mann Co. Most things, oui. But not all. And zhis warehouse is most certainly not." Spy pointed to a label on the side of the marshmallow crate. Where Scout would have expected it to say something like Mann Marshmallows or Mannfectionary Co., there was instead a series of beautifully and ornately written gibberish. "Zhat is definitely not zhe Australian zhat is usually on zhe side of zhe crate. Note also zhe lack of Saxton Hale's portrait. Non, zhis is something else."

"Y'know," said Scout, who hadn't been paying attention, "You remind me of something familiar. I'm sure I've seen that kind'a bug before."

"One of your love interests?" Spy replied, with a roll of his glowing red eyes. Scout took no notice of the jibe, however, as his thoughts were on other things.

"Hmm. Normally, I'd be buzzing from a sugar overdose right now, but I think I crashed pretty recently and I'm finding it hard to think."

"Marshmallows are behind you." The red-and-brown thing nodded, then stuck his head into the crate. Ten seconds and a lot of slobbering noises later, Scout turned back with a pink ring around his mouth.

"Thanks. Now, let's see... glowing eyes, completely black, holes in legs, horn..." Scout trailed off. "No way."

"What?"

"No. Fricken'. Way."

"What is it, Scout?"

"YOU'RE A CHANGELING!" cried Scout with joy. "Holy crap, and I'm a pegasus! And that ain't a tattoo on my ass, it's a cutie mark!"

"...what zhe hell?"

"Which means..." Scout broke off again, elation rendering him momentarily unable to talk. "OMIGOD, WE'RE IN HORSETRALIA!"

"I will say again: what zhe hell?"

"You know, Horsetralia? From Saxton Hale's Pony Tales for Small Girls and Grown-Ass Men!" Spy sighed, burying his head in his foreleg once again.

"I do not believe zhe drivel you Americans watch. Or, for zhat matter, what zhe Australians peddle to you."

"Only 'cause you ain't a Grownie!" Scout started singing the theme under his breath. "I used to wonder what bodily harm could be, until you shared its magic with me..."

"Please shut up, s'il vous plaît." Spy breathed out, muttering something about Scout, his level of intelligence, and how it compared with a chimp's. "Look, surely you have noticed zhe absence of our team-mates. We are clearly on our own and vulnerable here, and I do not for a moment believe zhat zhese new bodies are versatile in combat. Attempting to make contact with zhe rest of zhe RED team should be our number one priority.

"Lighten up, Spy! It's Horsetralia! It's not like anything real bad's gonna happen."

"...why does zhat not reassure me?"

On Money, Discovery, and an Abrupt Ending

Several hours earlier.

The two of them exited the warehouse: Scout with an excited spring in his step that left him hovering in the air for a fraction of a second, his wings whirring, Spy slinking along more cautiously as his glowing red eyes darted left and right. It was bright and sunny outside the warehouse, and the two found themselves in the middle of some kind of market place. Neighing and whinnying filled the air as ponies cheerfully chatted, coupled with the clip-clop of hooves on the cobbled road.

"So," said Spy, "has your television show provided any clue of our whereabouts?"

"Sure!" the pegasus replied. "We're in Bridlepath, a relatively small town known for its market and annual cake-decorating competitions. The town hall over there's the key - they're still rebuilding it after Nightmare Moon explodified a bunch'a places." Sure enough, a spindly and heavily charred building surrounded by scaffolding was clearly visible, rising above the thatched houses.

"I see. And are there any facilities of use to us?"

"Yup! There's a train station in just about every town in Horsetralia, an' we can ride it all the way to Ponyville."

"I'll assume you have some kind of plan once we get there. I assure you zhat alzhough I do not have one myself I do not wish to hear yours without first losing my wits." Scout rolled his large eyes.

"Sheesh, lighten up there, Spy. I could get us anywhere in Horsetralia once we get to the train station." It was Spy's turn to roll his eyes this time, but he followed nonetheless.

And then a scream rang out.

The pairs' heads whipped around, trying to pinpoint the location of the screamer. A blue-and-pink passerby stood rigid in fear, a hoof raised in the direction of their terror. Directly, as it so happened, at Spy.

"Um... I may not have actually thought this one through," said Scout as other ponies turned to look their way.

"Scout, what is happening?" Spy asked, watching in growing dread as more ponies drew in with looks of menace on their faces. It was amazing, he thought, how scary a group of cute pastel-coloured miniature horses could seem.

"I, uh, just remembered somethin' about changelings."

"Zhey wouldn't, by any chance, be shunned by zhe people of zhis town?"

"Um, more like hated an' loathed by the entire country."

"SCOUT!"

"We should, uh, we should probably just start runnin'."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"

Scout's and Spy's screams merged as they raced through the streets of the town identified as Bridlepath. Scout zipped through the air ahead of Spy, who although had just gotten the hang of running with four legs was making remarkable time.

"How... zhe hell... are you flying?" puffed Spy, as he glanced over his shoulder at the pursuing mob who were getting closer by the second.

"Use your wings!"

"I'm trying! How... did you get... into zhe air in zhe first place?"

"Double jump!" yelled Scout. "Jump, then jump again!"

"Are you insane?"

"Believe in your heart, man! Just do it!"

Spy ground his oddly pointed teeth. The mob was far too close for comfort now. He pushed up from the ground, then again in mid-air as he encountered resistance despite standing on nothing but air. Spy felt his insectoid wings unfurl, buzzing and propelling him forward. Drawing level with Scout, he saw the crowd lagging behind (even though several of them were also in the air), before disappearing completely as the two rounded a corner.

The pair rested on a thatched rooftop as they watched the mob pass them obliviously.

"Well, zhat could have gone better."

"Yeah, you said it. Sorry 'bout that, man, I probably should'a warned you."

"Yes, well. Anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"Apart from the fact that everyone hates changelings? Um..." Scout chewed his lower lip. "Oh, yeah! Changelings can make themselves look like other ponies. That's why they're called changelings. Kinda like you, if your disguise kit was in your horn."

"Hmm. Zhis may solve my image problem."

"Should do, yeah. You should try it out, see what happens."

Spy closed his eyes, concentrating on Scout's horsey face. A strange tingly feeling streamed from his forehead, cocooning him in fizzing warmth. A sudden shock, like a draft of cold air washed over him, forcing his eyes open. Scout stared at him in fascination.

"Woah. Freaky."

"What?" asked Spy in Scout's voice. "Is there something wrong?"

"Well, let's just put it this way: if we were back at Lakeside, I'd be shooting you in the face right about now."

"I suppose that will have to suffice." The changeling flickered, turning back to his abnormal self. "Zhis ability will provide ample replacement for my disguise kit. Alzhough I could really use a cigarette right now - Scout, are you even listening?" Scout was, in fact, staring at a point just behind Spy's head. He turned.

A green pegasus was hovering in the air behind them, a wicked smile on its face - no doubt one of the search party members who had remembered the existence of wings. It neighed menacingly.

"Ooh boy."

A few minutes later two pegasi walked down the street towards the Bridlepath train station: one scowling and red, the other green and with a nonchalant look on its face.

"I do not see what you are fuming about," said the freshly disguised Spy. "I had to incapacitate the pony somehow."

"You hit her! With me!"

"So?"

"I have four bruised shins! Four!" cried Scout. "That is not a suitable use of telekinesis!"

"Oh, please. Would you have preferred me killing it?"

"No..."

"Good. So stop complaining."

The Bridlepath train station was a small building for a small town, with only two opposite-facing platforms connecting it to the branch line. A tiled roof protected waiting passengers from unscheduled rainfall, while a large clock provided the time of day. No trains filled the sidings, but the smell of coal and soot was faithfully present. Scout and Spy clumsily took seats on a bench near the ticket queue.

"Uh, Spy?"

"Oui."

"Do you know how much two tickets'll cost?"

"But of course," Spy smirked. "Seeing as there is a sign proclaiming prices right next to where you are standing, it would be difficult not to." Scout turned and, exactly as Spy had said, there was a wooden sign. What was not there, however, was any readable words. Then Scout punched himself in the face.

"Aargh!"

"Are you all right?" asked Spy in amusement.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Clutching a hoof to his smarting face, he straightened up. "I probably shouldn't facepalm with hooves. Facehoof. Shouldn't facehoof with hooves. Anyways, what I was going to say was that I think that..." He lowered his voice. "I think that changelings can read other languages when they're disguised."

"Hmm. Interesting theory. The sign states that tickets will cost forty-one bits and thirty rayns for one adult ticket to Ponyville.. Assuming, of course, that we count as adults."

"Well, do you have any money on you?"

"I do recall having the presence of mind to take a small satchel from that pony back there." Spy clumsily lifted a purse-like bag from around his neck, prying it open. Scout craned his neck to see in, and found a number of glittering gold and silver coins. "Has the show of yours provided the knowledge of how much each coin is worth?"

"Yeah, Saxton Hale did a special episode to teach about how the Horsetralian cash system works. Denominations are ten-, twenty-, twenty-five - and fifty-rayns, and one-, two-, five-, ten-, and twenty-bits. Rayns are silver, bits are gold. Ten-rayns are circular, twenty-rayns are nonagonal, twenty-five-rayns are-"

"MON DIEU, I DO NOT CARE!" thundered Spy.

"Sorry, just thought that you'd like to know," Scout mumbled.

"Well, I do not." He passed the bag to Scout. "Look, you count out the coins and I will hold them. I presume you know simple addition, c'est vraix?"

Scout counted out seven coins of interesting geometric structure, and to his credit only dropped them once or twice.

"Good. And now, Scout, for the first proper inter-pony conversation today."

"Huh?" Spy rolled his eyes.

"Time to buy the tickets, simpleton."

Author's Note

What challenges will the two mercenaries encounter next? Will the monetary system of Equestria Horsetralia ever be explained? Find out whenever I finally get around to progressing this story!

Discussions, Decisions, and an Imminent Impact

A little while earlier.

"Soldier?" asked the Demoman as he gripped the griffin's feathers.

"YES?"

"Why've we been flying in circles fer the past half hour?"

"I AM BECOMING ONE WITH MY EAGLE-KIN! YOUR ZEBRA BRAIN CANNOT COMPREHEND MY MAJESTIC THOUGHTS!"

"That doesnae make sense at all."

"EAGLES HAVE NO NEED OF COMMON SENSE."

The three ponies and sole minotaur stared in puzzlement at the gently steaming body of Medic that was currently occupying a section of the floor. Judging from the stunned looks on Twilight's face, Medic's reaction to the beam of light that had emanated from her horn had been somewhat unexpected. Heavy himself had certainly not felt anything when Twilight performed the procedure on him.

"Uh..." muttered Applejack, "Was that that meant to happen, Twi?"

"No, that wasn't what I was expecting. Is he alright?" Heavy smiled at the purple unicorn in a reassuring manner.

"Do not worry about Doktor, friend Twilight. Is good learning experience! Will build character."

Pinkie Pie bounced in her seat, cupcake crumbs and icing encrusted around her mouth. "While we're waiting for Mr. Doctor here to wake up, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself!"

"And why exactly y'all were scaring a couple'a foals back there," interjected Applejack.

Just as he was about to speak, Heavy paused. Medic had told him not to speak too freely about their jobs at RED, hadn't he? And he would get angry if Heavy had deliberately disobeyed an important instruction. Heavy's mind was suddenly filled with the image of a cute and cuddly Medic-shaped pony squeaking in frustration.

He could at least talk to his new friends, surely.

"I am Heavy Weap- I am Heavy," said Heavy, catching himself just in time. "Heavy. Da. I work for RED team, with Doktor and other comrades."

"Interesting," said Twilight. "Does Red mean anything, or are there lots of different coloured teams?"

"There is other team, da. BLU team. We... do not get along."

"So, where exactly do you work?" Heavy laughed.

"Hot places! Dry, dusty, hot places. The Badlands mostly." At this, Applejack and Twilight looked noticeably taken aback, although Heavy wasn't sure why. Pinkie Pie was simply staring with her head tilted to one side. "RED team works in dustbowls and gravel pits. Is difficult job - pushing carts, pushing carts back, making sure BLU team does not get too close to Doktor."

Heavy was beginning to get the feeling that, should he continue talking, he might let something slip. Better to change the subject to something more suitable.

"But maybe Doktor himself should explain it better. When he wakes up, ask then. And, uh... about the scaring of the children..."

"Foals," cut in Applejack.

"Foals, da. I am sorry for this. Doktor is brave, but is also scared easily by leetle things. You see, Doktor is leader of team. If he says something is dangerous, I must protect him - he say that foal is dangerous, I scare them away." Heavy sighed. "Doktor is smart. Otherwise, he would not be Doktor! But sometimes... sometimes he is stupid. Sometimes he is scared. I apologise."

Applejack's stern expression melted.

"That's okay, mister. It was an honest misunderstandin', that's all. Just don't go round scarin' foals no more, okay?"

"Da." Heavy spotted motion out of the corner of his eye.

"Aha, Doktor is waking up!"

For the second time that day, Medic awoke with a splitting yet rapidly fading pain in the temples. A faint purple haze shimmered in front of his eyes for a few seconds, before it was shooed away by three rapid blinks. As his vision cleared, he noticed that he was staring up on the ceiling. How could this have happened? Medic squirmed, trying to right himself, and felt his face redden slightly as a high-pitched giggle emanated from somewhere outside his line of sight.

"Ach... Heavy?" asked the unicorn, with a slight twitch of his legs. "Vould you kindly help me up?"

"Da," came Heavy's response. Medic's stomach suddenly lurched as he was hoisted into the air, before being placed back down on all four hooves. "Next time maybe Doktor should make more effort to get up, instead of acting like helpless leetle turtle."

"Hmmph. Chatter aside, might you be so kind as to ask our hosts vhat just happened to me?"

"Oh, that was a translation spell," piped up a high-pitched voice. "I'm not sure why the side-effects were so extreme, though. Are you alright?"

"Ja, ja. It is not zhe vorse I encounter on a daily basis." It was then that Medic realised who had spoken to him. "Vait... Tvilight Sparkle? Vas zhat your name?" The purple unicorn smiled.

"That's right. This is Applejack," she said, indicating the Angry Hat-Wearing Pony of Death, "and this is Pinkie Pie."

"Pleased to meetcha! Is your name really Doktor? What's your cutie mark mean? Why didn't you eat your cupcake? What's an ÜberCharge? How do you-"

"Please excuse Pinkie Pie, she's not very good with guests," said Twilight as she clamped a hoof over the hornless pony's mouth. "Pinkie, why don't you run along for a bit? I'm not too sure whether it would be a good idea to bombard Mr. Doktor here with questions."

"Oh, okay," said Pinkie Pie, her face falling a little. Then she perked up. "I know! Heavy, I can show you around town!"

"Da! Is good."

"Nein! Vait..." said Medic to the closing door. "Ach... vell, he can't go far in a small town like zhis, anyvay."

Applejack stood up from her seat.

"Well, if Pinkie's keepin' an eye on the minotaur, an' you're lookin' after Doktor here, then Ah'd best be off home. Farm don't keep for nopony."

Questions ran through Medic's head as the pony known as Applejack departed, and he was quite certain that his hosts would have a fair few of their own. At least with Heavy and Pinkie Pie occupied, there wouldn't be any distractions of snack food or the like. But - and this was important - there was one thing Medic did not quite understand: how, exactly, had Twilight Sparkle allowed him to understand her language? She had mentioned very briefly what sounded like 'translation spell', but whether that was in fact what she had used remained to be seen.

Up until very recently, Medic would have dismissed the unicorn's explanation of 'magic' as a primitive way of looking at technology beyond her understanding. Of course, the presence of what had looked very much like a wizard in a drastically altered Lakeside had somewhat swayed his confidence in such matters. There was a saying, he thought, that ran something like this:

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

It was a nice saying. It made so many things so very convenient. While working for RED, and indeed during his own experiments, he had encountered many pieces of technology that were rather difficult to distinguish from magic. Australium certainly went a way towards explaining it, but there was still a certain sensation of unnatural (or even, one might say, supernatural) power that came with a successful ÜberCharge.

Despite his frequent attempts to overcome the natural order of things via the powers of science and a scalpel, Medic took a certain level of comfort from a world that could be categorised into nice and easily-managed piles that could, and this was important, be tipped over and mixed with each other. His colleagues in medicine would call it a tautology of sorts. If he had colleagues. Or legally practiced medicine.

And to make these piles of information, research must be obtained.

"Frau Sparkle, I expect zhat you are vondering how my... associate... and I arrived in zhis place. Perhaps I can explain."

"Of course! But please, call me Twilight."

"Duly noted." Medic coughed. "Tvilight, did you mention a translation spell?" A nod from the unicorn. "So you do practise magic, zhen?" Another nod, albeit slightly puzzled. "Zhat is good. Zhat vill make zhis next bit much easier for zhe both of us. Herr Heavy may have already told you zhat ve both work for zhe Reliable Excavation Demolition company. Ve arrived a short while ago in zhis town after being separated from our comrades. Zhe problem lies viz zhe nature of our separation...

"During a routine operation in a town named Lakeside, our work vas disturbed by zhe presence of an avakened vizard. An easily-angered vizard, as it turned out. To make a long story short, vun of mein team-mates annoyed zhe vizard, und now ve are ending up here. Vould situations like ours be somezhing you have heard of?"

There was a brief silence, punctuated with the sound of a pencil scribbling words at a surprisingly fast speed. Equally surprising was the fact that it was not actually being held by anything - instead, both pencil and notepad were suspended in the air, shrouded by a purplish light.

"Ahem. Tvilight?"

"Oh! Right!" said the unicorn, who had seemed to be lost in thought. "So this wizard teleported you and the rest of your team-mates away from Lakeside and placed you down here?"

"Vell, here and zhere. Zhere vere nine of us, and I am sure the ozher seven are rather close."

"Something like that, Mr. Doktor - is that your name?" Medic smiled strangely.

"Nein, just a term of endearment from Herr Heavy. Call me Medic, bitte. Alzough, to be fair, zhat is also not my real name. I vould prefer to keep zhat secret... secret."

"Right." But the purple pony didn't look entirely satisfied. "Please don't think me intrusive, Medic, but something about your story seems a little simplified to me."

Ah. Hmm. What to tell her? thought Medic. The whole mercenary thing could stay a secret for now, it wasn't at all relevant. But if she was going to provide the necessary help, she would certainly have to know more than just the basics. This 'magic' could certainly become a useful tool.

"You are very perceptive, Tvilight. But zhere is a qvestion I must ask. Vhen you say you "practise magic", vhat exactly does zhis entail? How experienced are you viz such things?" A look somewhat akin to pride came over Twilight's equine face.

"Well, now that you ask, and not that I'm trying to brag, but I am the personal student in magic of Princess Celestia herself!" Frankly, Medic had no idea who this 'Princess Celestia' was, but they were obviously skilled in magic. "I've been gifted in magic from an early age. In fact, when I took the entrance exam for the School for Gifted Unicorns, the Princess made me her personal protégé! She sent me to Ponyville to study the magic of Friendship, and while I've been here I've had my abilities tested by a number of powerful foes - King Sombra, Lord Tirek, and Discord himself! I'm also the bearer of one of the six Elements of Harmony. And then there was..."

Medic was beginning to regret asking the question. In fact, he was finding it hard to remember what he'd asked in the first place. Luckily, though, Twilight seemed to have ran out of steam. Medic spoke.

"I see."

"I'm not usually that talkative," Twilight said, "but I hope that provides an answer." Her voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. "I didn't come across too... unfriendly... did I?"

"Nein, nein."

"Great! So, what exactly were you going to tell me?"

And Then She Said...

"Did ye have'ta stop by that apple tree? I thought you said Medic was in trouble?"

"FRUIT IS GOOD FOR EAGLES. THAT IS A FACT, PRIVATE!"

"But-"

"ARE YOU ARGUING WITH THE TRUTH? I AM TRUTH! JUSTICE! AND THE AMERICAN WAY!"

Heavy liked Ponyville. It was small, free of explosions, and was at a reasonable temperature - three things that their usual RED posting lacked. Unless the monthly rotation brought them to Coldfront, or one of the scarce few places like it, Heavy spent his days sweating in the perpetual heat - and Coldfront wasn't much better either, as it merely traded one extreme for another. Admittedly, Heavy was far more accustomed to the below-freezing levels, but that did not mean that he enjoyed them.

There was one thing that was making him uneasy, however. The little ponies that trotted happily through Ponyville's cobbled streets displayed a rainbow of bright colours - red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, not to mention every other colour in between. Most of these hues Heavy had no trouble with. Except one.

He knew that they would not pose any threat. Besides, they were so small! But he still cast a watchful eye over any blue pony, just in case they made any sudden movements.

"So, what are your friends like?" asked Pinkie Pie. Thank goodness she was red, or at least a shade of red. He felt more comfortable about that.

"Well, they are... what is word... they are unique," said Heavy with a smile. "Is long story for each. Doktor you already know, but there is also Scout, and Spy-"

"Ooh, ooh! Tell me about them!" she exclaimed. "Do they get along well?"

Heavy laughed. "They annoy each other. Spy says Scout is childish, Scout loves annoying Spy. They are very different. Scout, he is never stopping moving, always flying through the air. He is boaster, thinking very highly of himself, but is all in fun." He paused. "Is boaster correct word?"

"And what about Spy?"

"Well..."

"...and then Rainbow Dash was all like "I'm goin' in!" and the dragon's all "Nuh-uh!" and swipes her and she goes down and it's like oh no, Dashie's dead! but at the end she's in the hospital, but then Fluttershy comes flying up to meet the dragon and she goes "Stay away from my friends!" and the dragon tries to flame her but she's got this Stare thing and it freezes the dragon and he's, like, a thousand feet in the air and he hits the ground and smashes into pieces!"

Spy groaned weakly.

"Oh, and that reminds me of my next favourite episode!" jabbered Scout. "So there's these things called Parasprites, and they're these cute little bugs but they eat things so they're like flying piranha fish, and they're going to eat Ponyville and-"

"Mon Dieu, will you shut up already!"

"Sorry."

"Do you know how long it will be before we arrive at Ponyville?" asked Spy, anxious to change the subject.

"About ten minutes. Then we can find Twilight and the rest of the guys."

"And she will be able to help us? Intriguing as this body is, I do not wish to be stuck in it for any length of time."

"Don't worry! Twilight always knows what to do. That's why she's a main character!" Scout paused as memory surfaced in his mind. "And, y'know, speaking of changing bodies..."

Spy's eyes widened in horror. "Scout, I am warning you-"

"That reminds me of another episode! So Twilight found this spell by this guy called Starswirl the Bearded..."

"And that, comrade Pinkie, is why we call it the Spycrab!"

The pair exploded into laughter, tears streaming down their faces. The heads of several passers-by turned as the noise reached them, but the population of Ponyville was accustomed to Pinkie Pie's behaviour - that is, as accustomed as her erratic antics would allow. As the laughter dissolved into gasps for breath, another noise broke the silence. A deep rumbling sound emerged from Heavy's furry belly.

"Sounds like someone's hungry."

"Da," the minotaur replied. "Doktor says that we were asleep for very long time before we came to Ponyville. Has been long time since Heavy had food."

"Well, let's go get some! My treat! What do minotaurs like you eat?" Heavy gave a broad grin.

"Sandvich!"

"Which house?" yelled Demoman as he clung on with all his might to the streak of red-and-white feathers and fury.

"ALL OF THEM!"

"Nae! Where's Medic?"

"THAT ONE!"

"Not a big help, Soldier!"

"NEGATORY! EAGLE CHARGE!"

"Well, to be frank, such a thing isn't commonplace and to transport all nine of you back would take an extraordinary feat of magic," said Twilight, shaking her head. "I certainly couldn't perform the spell myself, but there are other means. Luckily," she said with a smile, "I happen to live in a library, so I can probably find a solution to your troubles without having to contact Princess Celestia for guidance."

"Und vhat of our current species?"

"Ah, that is a far easier matter. If you are all gathered in one place, it should be relatively trivial to transform you all back. Of course, you would need to find the rest of your team first. I'm sure, given your unique predicament, that the Princess would be more than happy to assist you in any way - after all, you are from another world!"

"Possibly even anozher universe."

"That only makes it even more important! I'll get to work immediately. In the meantime..."

"In the meantime I will locate Heavy and search zhe rest of Ponyville. After all, zhere is a chance zhat some of zhem are here."

Just as Twilight turned towards the library, there was a knock on the door. And then another. Someone quite impatient was on the other side.

"Spike!" called Twilight, "can you get the door?" There was no reply from the dragon, so she made her way towards the door herself. But as she was about to turn the doorhandle, Medic felt a sudden surge of horror. Something - someone - familiar was behind the door, and something was about to happen.

"Tvilight!" shrieked Medic, lunging towards the purple unicorn. "Don't open zhat-"

"Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin' Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees!"

"Och!" said Demoman as he woozily extracted himself from the heap of groaning bodies and rubble. "Didn't see that one coming, did ye? That'll teach ye fer bein' a door!"

The Demoman proceeded to fall back onto the heap of groaning bodies and rubble.

Element Of Surprise

The pair walked slowly between cottages, Heavy walking intentionally slowly to avoid overtaking his team-mate with his longer strides.

Trit. Trot. Trit. Trot. Plink.

"Verdammt!"

Heavy turned his head to see Medic doing an odd little three-legged dance. His front left leg was curled up, and the pony looked like he was in pain.

"What is wrong, Doktor?"

"I am in pain, dummkopf!" Immediately, Heavy was concerned.

"Doktor, stop dancing around and let Heavy see what is wrong."

"Nein! I vill be fine. It is just a minor inconvenience." Medic turned away from Heavy, and started walking with an obvious limp. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow."

"Doktor has something wrong with hoof. Let Heavy fix it."

"Nein!"

A few seconds later, Medic was lying on his back with Heavy leaning over him. The minotaur's frame dwarfed the pony on the ground. Heavy cradled Medic's hoof in one hand, running the other over the sole of the hoof. Medic waved his free legs in the air feebly.

"Aha! Doktor has stone in hoof." With a flick of one oddly-shaped finger, Heavy removed the offending object. "Heavy does not know why you struggle, Doktor. That did not hurt, did it?"

"I suppose so," grumbled Medic. "Now move so zhat I can get back up! Zhis position is humiliating enough as it is." The minotaur stepped back to allow him up. Instead, Medic rolled a little, his legs making bicycle movements in the air. "Ach! Move, stupid body! And stop laughing, Heavy!"

"Doktor is so cute!"

"Heavy, promise me zhat you vill never mention zhat again?"

"Da. Doktor's cuteness will be Heavy's secret."

They had not yet found any noteable landmarks, although there were quite a few shops. Poking his head around a corner, Medic saw a large building which looked as if it had been made out of a tree. In fact, it was a tree. Perhaps this structure was of some significance. No ponies were in sight, however, and Medic wondered if the impromptu musical number was being continued somewhere. Now that he knew their weakness, avoiding incrimination would be much easier.

"Do you see zhat tree?"

"Da."

"Ve should look inside. Maybe zhere is a map or somezhing."

"Da."

"Qvite odd, zhough, to have a house inside a tree. I vonder vhat kind of architecture zhese ponies practise."

"Vanilla, with raspberry jam in centre of cupcake."

It was at this point that Medic realised that the minotaur wasn't paying him any attention. "Vanilla, with raspberry jam in centre of cupcake" was most certainly not a suitable answer to his question. He turned, a scowl of annoyance over his face.

"Heavy, vhat are you - WAUGH!"

Heavy was kneeling down, and nodding in appreciation as a pink pony whinnied at him. Medic didn't know how exactly his team-mate was understanding what the thing was saying, but he seemed to be coping just fine.

"Doktor, come say hello to new friend!"

"Nein! Get avay from zhat... zhat thing! It is a dangerous monster!" Heavy looked shocked.

"Pinkie Pie is not dangerous! Come, say hello!"

"Und just how do you zhink I am going to speak viz zhat... creature?"

"Pinkie Pie is not creature! Pinkie Pie is pony, like you. You must say hello."

"Ach... hello, Pinkie Pie." He was answered with a neighing noise. "I am sorry, Herr Heavy, but I cannot understand vhat zhe pony is saying. I take it zhat you have had better luck?"

"Pinkie Pie understands every word from Heavy's mouth," he said, nodding sagely. "She is saying that we are new to this town, and friend of Pinkie will help us." Medic was thoughtful.

"I do admit zhat zhat vill help us greatly. Of course, ve should still maintain a low profile. No extravagant parties, haha!"

"Twilight!" yelled the pony as she bounced through the tree's door. "Twilight! There's some ponies who wanna meet you! Come quick!"

There was no reply. In fact, there didn't seem to be anyone at home at all. Heavy followed his new friend, stooping a little to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. Heavy's eyes were drawn to the books that lay splayed on the floor, and sheaves of paper scattered as if someone had dropped them in a great hurry.

"Maybe zhis 'Tvilight' person is out?" offered Medic, trit-trotting in last before shutting the door. Heavy relayed this suggestion to Pinkie, who shook her head vigorously.

"No, she would never leave books like out like that," said Pinkie as she pointed to said books with a hoof. "She's super-careful with her books."

Heavy picked one up, riffling through it with a surprisingly slender finger. Each leaf was covered with fascinating scribbles, and he stopped on one double page which held nothing but an exquisite pencil drawing of the night sky. An arrow pointed towards the crescent moon, with several notes beside it.

"Vould you mind if I were to take a look at zhat, Heavy?" The minotaur wordlessly bent down to hand Medic the book. There was a thump as he straightened up, but Heavy paid it no attention. He had had a thought.

"Pinkie, this house looks like Twilight left quickly. Maybe something was chasing her? Was she fleeing something?" Thump.

"Fleeing?" Pinkie looked at him strangely. "Hey, she could have gotten an invitation or something. Or maybe Princess Celestia wanted to speak to her! That happens a lot." Thump.

"Twilight knows a princess? She must be very important person." Thump.

"Well, she is one of the- " Pinkie Pie was interrupted by a loud screech from Medic, and yet another thump.

"Medic! What is the matter with you?" The unicorn grimaced.

"I am trying to pick up zhis book! Zhis is, might I say, qvite a difficult task for somevun viz NO HANDS!"

"What's the matter with your friend?"

"Doktor," whispered Heavy, "cannot pick up the book. I think he is missing fingers." Heavy wiggled his own to demonstrate. "Heavy is not sure how it is possible with hoof."

"Ooh, I know! The book's probably just slippery. Let me try!" Pinkie Pie picked up the book from where it had fell. "Nope. Just a normal book. Hey, what are you staring at?"

Medic was gazing with widened eyes at the book that had stuck itself to the pink pony's hoof.

"How... how did you..." he stuttered. Then he shook his head, and a gleam appeared in his eye that Heavy knew to be the kind he got when faced with a particularly intriguing specimen for dissection. "Suction cups, maybe? Or perhaps zhe hoof has a mechanism similar to zhe gecko's toes! I must test zhis further. And yet I cannot pick up zhis blasted book!"

As Heavy's new friend set about helping Medic undertake a simple task, the minotaur glanced about the room.

Clik. Clik.

He could hear footsteps coming towards them. Turning his head towards the source of the noise, he saw a staircase framed by another doorway. Someone was coming down it. Something vaguely humanoid, and scaly. As it reached the bottom of the stairs, it looked Heavy in the eyes and froze. It turned its head to stare at Medic and Pinkie. Then it spoke.

Horse noises.