It's Just an Experiment

Chapters

Commencement (Edited)
Saturday (Edited)
Tensions (Edited)

Commencement (Edited)

Ever had one of those moments when you screwed up? Like, really screwed up? No, I’m not talking about missing the math test or forgetting that you had to pick up your sister at five. Am I getting ahead of myself? Well, let’s take it from the beginning in that case, shall we?

The name’s Kevin, last name not important. I’m that guy that’s frequently being compared to Yao Ming and Slenderman in the terms of height, and a wooden board in terms of intellect, mainly due to the astonishing lack of common sense exhibited from time to time, and the below average performance in mathematics under the label of a Chinese guy. Ever tried to shove toothpaste back into the tube and call it recycling? Well, you get the idea. I could really go on about my physical descriptions likewise, but let’s just leave it as insignificant.

Now, imagine this: you’re in the casino, and you just threw in all your money on a single number in roulette, or some other equivalent. Maybe you just gave up and went all in, or you knew you were going to win? Or you just did it because you, well, just did it? Either way, the situation analogy brings us to the beginning of this story.

It was supposed to be the typical Friday.

Being that time of day again, the dismissal bell signalled for the students to file out of class for the end of another day. The cars were piling up at the courtyard again, with the parents eager to pick up their offspring to get home for the evening. Considering how parents would always come a good margin beforehand when their children were involved, the worst of the crowding was only beginning to show as the youth gushed out of the front doors.

Most of us students in last period Communications Technology class were all eager to join in the group of departing people, our bags already packed up and ready to leave well before the bell itself. It was a long weekend this week, with Monday being a day off from school. Most of us were long out the room the moment the bell sounded.

As usual, I’d be heading out with the group, trying to get home as quickly as possible. It was the end of the week, and I just wanted to do what everyone else wanted to do: Go home and relax. While I didn’t have too many friends, we would still hang out together from time to time.

Living right next to the school was a pretty big plus, given how it only takes one crossing of the street to get home. It saves bus fare, and commute times, the latter of which is seemingly more valuable every passing day. Other than that, it was just the typical, boring brick building with a slight roach infestation that I had grown fond to, as I spent a good portion of my life growing up there.

Up to the third floor and third apartment unit, a twist of the deadbolt opened up to my living room, with my mom getting dinner ready, and my little sister doing her round of basic math homework in front of our knocked out television set. Being around twelve years old, she was in that age group where she envied growing up more than anything else, something which I shared until I got to High School.

“How was school?” my mom would ask, still self absorbed in preparing the dishes for dinner.

“The usual,” I would reply, kicking off my shoes and heading for my room, “When would dinner be ready?”

“In an hour or so.”

“Sounds good.”

We lived in a two bedroom suite, with my parents and sister taking up the master’s room, while I took the smaller room for myself. It was cramped and cluttered, with papers and other materials being thrown around, just the way I liked it. When I finally got through the clutter and towards my table, I’d move the laptop out of the way and occupy it with the textbooks and binders for schoolwork, supposedly containing the weekend’s full of work. Normally would be the time to dump the bag and kick off the weekend with an evening filled with more or less disappointing games in World of Tanks or some other online game, but the last stages of May usually revolved around cramping up for the summatives and exams in a giant braingasm before the embrace of summer. Between working for a better tomorrow and playing something I’ve probably already spent too much time on already, I’d choose the former; I’ll have plenty of hours over the summer to do whatever was necessary.

Most of the session went ahead as expected: a few dozen something trigonometry questions from the textbook and assigned worksheets. Feeling the usual flow of optimism at the accomplishment on a Friday evening, I decided to lay off the few remaining math questions for tomorrow, while I take a breather and check up on the other pieces of assigned work later in the evening.

Math was never one of my strong subjects- even if I studied and knew what I was doing, I would still get lower marks than everyone else. I didn’t really mind that though, as I would enjoy sciences a lot more, sometimes taking hours just googling up random inventions or scientific discoveries. I would still be treading on the water on taking the sciences to the next level in university, or giving in to my dad’s suggestion of engineering for a more stable income line.

“Honey, dinner is ready.”

“Coming, mom.”

‘5:21 PM’, I processed, catching the glimpse of the radio alarm clock on the top of the bookshelf, ‘Not too shabby for a Friday.’

Dinner was as the usual for all weekdays, with the rice and some leftover stir fry. If there is one thing that we won’t have a shortage of in this household, then its vegetables; my mom would get into frequent arguments with my dad during shopping over the topic of meat. It was usually about ‘veggies good, meat bad’ with my mom, and my dad would counter it with ‘we need meat to live’. It was amusing to watch sometimes.

I scooped a slide of rice into my own bowl from the rice cooker as I settled down behind the table, where mom would be asking about my day once again as I finish my dinner, and my little sister trying to scoop at the vegetables with the spoon. The conversation usually swings from my day, to her day, and some immensely ridiculed subject manner on how organic food is becoming obsolete. It’s usually me describing the day’s detail and my dislike for some random thing I disagreed with, and her disagreements over some grudge with a few nurses at the nursing home, and some middle ground on global problems of whatsoever. That soon switches towards to my little sister Rebecca asking for the juice, being denied and switching over to a ridiculed subject which I had no idea about. I wouldn’t complain, as I probably did the same thing when I was her age.

Scarfing down the last pieces of rice and some more broccoli but ignoring the taste completely, I threw on a long sleeve shirt and pants, along with the other essentials, notably the cellphone and keys for a typical Friday’s outdoor adventure given the feeling of disdain for the computer. I gave mom a quick wave as I headed out the door, signalling the absence, being rebutted with the simple ‘don’t wander too far’ notice, as per all parents that cared for their kids.

Passing the local Elementary school park and down a drainage ravine forked between some elderly looking estates led to a sparsely grown tree area, clearing out to a dirt path, then to a paved path, which followed under a highway bridge, then a rail bridge. It would then pass parallel to the rails and a river, before crossing paths with it. I would disembark from the pavement there to a stale dirt path, embarking onto the rail tracks on the top of the hill for the ‘average weekend’ adventure, or the places where the parents dreaded that their kids would attempt to go in the outdoors for fears of leaving the safety of bubble-wrap.

There wasn’t anything particularly special about this place, other than taking a front row seat in observing passenger trains cross by at a semi-frequent interval. It was more stress relief more than anything else, as I discovered more or less recently by heading to the outdoors on a more frequent basis. It was good in that sense of clearing the mind and taking a step into the outdoors.

Climbing to the top of the hill and meeting the tracks, I turned north, stopping at a bridge running over the river. It wasn’t the first time I did this, but I would always feel nervous eyeing the stretch of bridge, some thirty meters in length. I took a deep breath and was about to start at it again, yet I hesitated for a moment, which made me pick up the sense that a train was approaching with that distinct low rumble of a diesel engine. I got out quickly to the side ditch as I caught sight of the locomotive coming into view.

I exhaled a sigh of relief once the last cart passed, realising that I forgot to check for the start of an hour. It was a crude way of checking for traffic, but it generally held true for the most of it, once I checked the clock on my phone to discover that it was about 7:09. I went back to scaling the bridge, feeling a bit more at ease.

Up ahead was another bridge, before going under a road bridge. Even further up ahead was some hills, with a clear cut view of a golf course and some power lines, before crossing over a service trail into some more trees and a corporate storage yard. Like I said, there wasn’t anything too special about this place, it was just another random place I found pleasing to hike through for a stress reliever, as it offered an escape from somewhat predictable frustration life has.

Most of the hike was uneventful, apart from me taking glances at the scenery or behind me to make sure that I wasn’t being followed. In hindsight it worked well for practicing time trials, trying to get across before the sun goes down, or maybe trying to avoid detection from the houses near the corporate lot. It helped to spice things up a little and make the exercise deal a bit more exciting. Eventually I reached the end of the path with the corporate lot and yet another train bridge further ahead, which I crossed without hesitation this time before trying to scale the hill ahead and getting into the yard of a condo.

Not interested in loitering any longer I left the premises quickly, ignoring the odd look of a fellow resident who thought that a zombie just came out of the wilderness. I would head east through the neighbourhood that once happened to be my home before stopping at the main road to wait for the oncoming northbound bus with a precautionary bus ticket. I needlessly took a transfer once the bus arrived, and settled down in one of the empty seats for the two block trip back.

It was that time again when my mind came back to reprimand me about the fact I used a bus ticket for such a short distanced trip, even though my parents have told me to not hesitate when it involved getting home before dark. While saving money was always good, I would generally consider the overthinking and worrying part to be a negative, for the obvious set of reasons. I discarded that thought, reminding myself that it wasn’t worth the trouble to fuss over something of relative insignificance.

Either way, the flow of optimism came back when the bus arrived at my stop, reminding me that there could have been worse outcomes that could have happened, and that it was just a typical Friday after all. It was mundane, but sometimes things were probably better off that way as you didn’t need to stress yourself out, something which I shouldn’t be doing either way. The unit was already dark when I arrived home, and I promptly showered off and brushed my teeth before heading to bed early, as catching up on some sleep didn’t seem like a bad idea anymore.

…

I was outside.

Upon a quick inspection, I still had my tee, jeans, and cap, topped off with the glasses, being the typical set for summer commutes.

Luckily the climate was in support of the clothing, being only slightly cloudy, obscuring the rays of heat just enough to not make the surroundings a blazing and humid inferno, but enough to remain comfortable with the following set of clothing.

It was a clear field, with some mildly forested hills rolling farther off into the distance, being backdropped by a mountain range further back. Being similar to those desktop backgrounds where you would always see in the Windows series, which followed up by the ambient climate, was the seemingly ideal outdoors environment on a summer day that just never seems to happen on most years.

Though I cherished the ambience and remoteness initially, it started to worry me to a degree eventually, being unlike the casual remoteness experienced within a suburb ravine. There were no signs of nearby civilization and I had no idea where I even remotely was. My first programmed instinct was to fly into my right pant pocket for my phone, but discovering that it wasn’t there, I started to feel light-headed in silent panic.

‘Where am I?’ my head raced, as I absentmindedly went into a random direction as my pessimism kicked me into inattention, ‘I have nothing that can help track my position, nor does anyone know I’m here…’

As if on cue, a flash of purple and a sharp ‘pop’ in front of me forced a jolt backwards. My hands flew over my eyes at the burst of light that temporarily blinded me.

“Um, hello,” a voice spoke, with a trace of subtle uneasiness toned to it. Was it from the flash? Why did it sound so familiar?

I slowly removed my hands from my eyes, still being sensitive from the abrupt flash of light. As per cliché, I looked upwards, left and right before looking downwards, spotting a strangely similar purple unicorn looking up at me curiously. It wasn’t very tall, being as tall as my lower chest level without the horn, based on a visual estimate. I would swear I saw her somewhere before, but the exact place was still-

Wait a minute…

“Twilight Sparkle?” I blurted out mindlessly, my initial shock curbing slightly as I pieced the revelation together.

“So you’re familiar with the show as well,” she smiled, to which I answered with a still confused nod.

I didn’t exactly consider myself a brony, but I still enjoyed the show in the few occasions on watching it with my little sister, or by myself. It was decent entertainment on part, but I still didn’t tell my friends, as god knows they already have enough ways to annoy me with their situational humour. But why would the show be of her interest to me? Aren’t there other fans more interesting than me for that consideration?

“So, where am I?” I reasoned out my main priority, trying to completely ignore the awkwardness of the previous exchange, “Or at least, is there a town or some form of settlement nearby?”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Twilight reassured in a calm voice.

“What? Why not?”

“We’re dreaming.”

“I am?” I asked, both skeptical and confused. Last time I recalled, I can't tell if I was dreaming or not, maybe except for the money collecting ones, which wake me up instantly if I noticed that the amount I collected was obscene.

“Yes you are," she stated with flatness, "And if you're willing to cooperate, I can explain the ordeal to you, Kevin."

“You know my name?” I felt some fear upon this; how would she know some random guy's name, like me? Or was that just dream logic, where you invent new things out of thin air? But again, she didn't freak out when I managed to blurt her name out correctly, give or take to that.

“That would be in part with my explanation,” she stated, “If you want to listen to the proposal, that is.”

“S-Sure,” I accepted with some reluctance, seeing no logical connections between the joints this time, it would be best to let someone else that was more knowledgeable to fill in the gaps. No need to bust my brain over something that makes no sense of whatsoever to me; Getting worked up isn’t going to help either. Besides, I was dreaming, so there goes the chance of me needing that life insurance…

“Long one or short one? Neither will take too long, to be honest.”

“Guess I’ll take the longer one, then,” I stated, finding a nearby tree to settle down under for the impeding explanation.

“Of course,” Twilight cleared her throat and settled down in front of me akin to a teacher giving help to a clueless student, “So, it started some decades ago, when our observers at the Canterlot observatory found a planet within our magic’s reach, not too unlike ours- it had water, an atmosphere, landmasses and native life. But then we found beings like you- humans, to be more precise, which drew closer attention from the scientific groups, and eventually the princesses themselves.”

“The princesses liked what they saw in your world, even in spite of the ensuing global struggles being pressed forwards,” she continued, “Though we had our fair share of questions and doubts initially upon seeing your world divided in conflict, we also saw the upper sides in your technological and political advancements in overall. It was a complicated and interesting sight, largely reminding us of the more turbulent days we experienced previous to this discussion.”

“We let snippets of our world to a woman named Faust, which you probably best know as the show,” she added, “Though it exaggerated the situation of our world by quite a bit, I think the overall message is clear, in that we’re a society that wants to make a few new friends with other species that would be willing to the gesture."

“And that’s where you come in. As we are unable to send any observers to your world due to us still fine tuning the long range teleportation spell, we decided to take an alternate approach to it instead."

"What do you propose on that?" I asked, my initial reluctance and uneasiness fading a bit from the discussion.

"Let's say we have a volunteer that would be willing to cooperate with you, and have them switch bodies with you."

"Why would you do that? And who are these 'volunteers'?"

"The 'volunteer' is usually a pony, but can also be a Griffon, Zebra, or pretty much anyone in our world that's willing to participate and cooperate in the experiment. We’re going along this way as we are unable to teleport to your world directly, yet our magic is still within reach. But otherwise, this would help us gain a better understanding on both xenophillia and phobia on both sides, how it may affect relations, or just general public reactions to our world. A social experiment of sort."

“Alright then,” I nodded slowly at her explanation, “In that case, why was I picked, then? Like, who didn’t make it as your experiment’s candidates?”

“Think of it in a way as a lucky opportunity,” she explained, “But in case you’re wondering, the ones that didn’t make the cut were partially due to mental issues, extremism, and potentially life threatening health conditions that would make the process or the aftermath a negative experience for both parties of interest, or just downright fatal. Others just didn’t want to participate. Elsewise, the rest were simply decided to be unfit for the task due to the lack of suitable volunteers to be paired with, or how their area of residence would put them at threat if the experiment went on. We're just having this exchange to see if you're comfortable with the idea of our experiment and your willingness to participate.”

“I guess. Who is this volunteer that’s willing to cooperate with me, taking that I accept the proposal?”

“She’s an old friend of mine,” the unicorn said with a smirk, “Though she lives in Canterlot, I think you two should get along together quite well.”

'It's a her?' I processed, but still feeling cool right now. I was never too comfortable with the opposite sex, but that didn't manage to bother me for the moment being. Chances were that the encounter was probably completely lucid of some sort, but then again, if she’s nice enough, I’d be naturally tempted either ways.

“Hey there!” an overly-excited voice chimed in as a blue unicorn with a toothpaste remiscent mane teleported into view, “Wow, so is this the volunteer I would switch my shoes with? He's a bit taller than I expected, but then you can't expect aliens to look too similar to us!”

"Hi," I managed, as nonchalantly as I could manage.

“The name’s Minuette,” she introduced, booping me on the nose, “I assumed you just met up with my old friend Twilight here, haven’t you?” she wrapped a forehoof around her friend’s neck, who returned a smile at her friend’s gesture, “What’s your name?”

“You can just call me Kevin,” I smiled.

“Well, it’s good to meet you, Kevin!” she shook my hand with both forehooves, a gesture which I found to be rather cute, “So you’re the volunteer that would be to switch shoes with me, is this correct?”

“Guess so.”

“I’ll just leave you two here for now,” Twilight stated, “I’ll check back later. You two play nice!” With that, she teleported off on her way.

With the seconds of silence ticking onwards, I decided to go ahead and ignore the ramblings within my mind, “So, any ambitions you’re trying to get out of this?”

“It was actually the result of a favor,” She replied with a smile, “Basically Pinkie wanted to meet some new people in your world, but she is unable to sign up herself as she is an Element, so she asked a few friends to help her do it.”

“So I assume you got selected for her little assignment?”

“Yep! I agreed to her proposal, so here I am!” she beamed.

“I see,” I scratched my chin, smiling deviously, “So my new friend, tell me a bit about yourself,” I asked, glancing down at the cutie mark on her flanks, “Such as, what’s your special talent?”

She glanced down at her flank, then back to me, “I’m not too sure what it means precisely, but I would assume that it’s the ability to make friends in no time flat!” she beamed, “It could also be some time magic thing, or just the overall relationship with precision and hourglasses, but that’s all insignificant in comparison!” she asserted.

I had to smile at that. She has the very real potential of a more powerful talent, yet she chooses to take her abilities to go out and make social glue instead. More focused visual examination would say the same thing as well- Her steel blue eyes, her voice, her laugh. It held the quintessential definition of happy-go-lucky, even though she was a unicorn instead of a human. Such a persona would be hard to come across, regardless of the species barrier. I respected that, to say the least.

We only got halfway through one of her stories, namely about her friend Lemon Hearts getting her head stuck in a beaker, as absurd as it sounded. Though disappointed that Twilight had to step back in to remind us that our session was up, I still felt content in how a simple conversation on perspectives can help bring two strangers a bit closer.

“We’ll still have time tomorrow if you take the proposal,” Minuette rubbed a forehoof into my chest, “Elsewise, I hope I can see you in a few years, when we can hopefully link our worlds together.”

With that, she teleported off, leaving only Twilight and I left in the field, with me still staring at the place where Minuette was standing just a minute ago. Twilight tapped my shoulder a few times, getting my attention to be diverted back to her.

"So, do you have anymore questions about the proposal?" she asked, though her voice was still hinted towards accepting the proposal itself.

"Well, you definitely have me interested, in case you're wondering," I told her, "But is there anything else to this deal that should be mentioned?"

"So far, participants will be given permanent residence rights from the homeland of their partners," she stated, "We're still having talks on the monetary compensation protocols so far."

I scratched my chin at that. Maybe I wasn't poor, but extra money was always good, assuming that we were even paid in the first place. Permanent residency sounded nice as a boot, given that I had the time to visit there in the first place. I always liked to explore the unknown, and that would make the whole concept easier.

“So how long will I have to stay as ‘her’?”

“About a week due to safety concerns with the magic,” she explained, “There would be safety nets involved; we can pull you in if things get out of hand.”

“Wait, I thought you said you couldn’t get here, wasn’t that why we were doing this in the first place?” I asked, figuring that ‘pulling in’ meant going to Equestria.

“We can’t sent living things like ponies over,” she explained, “But pulling you in right now can still be done safely. For the sake of a quicker explanation, its sort of one way right now.”

“Sounds fair, sounds fair…” I reiterated, looking around nervously, “Also, please don’t take this the wrong way, but does that someone I’m switching bodies with have to be a girl…?”

“We do it on a basis where we find two individuals most likely to cooperate with each other,” she smiled, “Unfortunately we’re short on volunteers, so finding someone else is quite unlikely.”

“I see.”

“I’m glad you pointed it out though.”

Nothing seemed to sense now, given the course of action in the past encounter. Some alien beings resembling unicorns have claimed to have wanting a better relationship between our worlds, while stating that I would be involved in some experiment of theirs to switch bodies with a member of the opposite sex, with vague promises of compensation. In amidst of the nonsense, part of me is clearly telling me that it might be a good opportunity of an experience even without any form of repayment, in spite of all the areas that could go wrong. I held out a hand over her face, with her nuzzling it as tertiary confirmation that this was really going on.

I knew I had everything I could ever have wanted: A home, a family and the potential of a future career. Surely someone else can do this instead, right? I have all I need, and what would this do to offset that balance? Yet at the same go, I was insanely curious at just the outcome of what people would think, along with the opportunity to see what the other side was like. And for me, the less rational side had the edge in this case- besides, this would be a critical point for mankind, and sometimes you just needed to make less than viable decisions in order to advance down the line.

“Screw it,” I said, throwing precaution to the wind, shaking her hoof gently, “It’s Alice in Wonderland after all. Count me in.”

"Well, that was definitely quick,” she stated, if not a little surprised, "I just want you to know that there’s no backing out once we start, and that you’re final on your decision.”

“I’m certain of it.”

“Very well then; It’s your call.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, her horn lit up in a pinkish aura, tinting my vision in it as it surrounded me. It didn’t look to be a normal thing to her, with her showing obvious signs of straining to keep the magic up. I felt slightly fuzzy and warm on my skin in its embrace, an alien but not unpleasant experience. Eventually it got deeper within my body, causing my control over myself slip away as it reached the core of me, backing me up against the tree. I didn’t pass out though, as the magic stopped right before I was about to, leaving me disorientated with a diminished amount of control through my whole body, and a mildly disturbing cold sensation.

"How do you feel?" she asked with concern, glancing at me from several different angles, "Anything off? Anything broken?"

"Just a bit dizzy," I slurred slightly, trying to shake my head, only for me to fall sideways, if not caught by her magic.

“Take it easy now,” she smiled, settling me stable as my orientation improved, “I’m glad that you took the choice. It’s not an easy one, and many backed out upon hearing the concept of it. Try not to think too much of its significance, but don’t just throw everything away, either.”

I gave a slow nod as the words seeped into my rebooting mind.

“Good luck Kevin. I’ll meet with you tomorrow to discuss more details of this plan. Hopefully you won’t regret this experience.”

With that, she teleported off, presumably with her friend. Leaving me all alone sitting underneath a tree. I smiled blearily at myself.

‘What have I gotten myself into this time?’ I thought absentmindedly, getting up to take off in some random direction.

Author's Note

~~This was chopped up for the umpteenth time to make it more fluid. I suggest you to re-read this if you read previous versions of this chapter before.~~

Got rid of scenery porn to improve flow.

Either way, feel free to scrutinize this some more. It helps future chapters. :raritywink:

Saturday (Edited)

My conscious returned to me slowly as my brain started to receive light from my eyes again, with the traces of sunlight tearing away the last warm fibers of sleep from my head. Though I wasn’t a morning person, the sunrise proved more than enough in reminding me that the day has already started, and that there’s going to be tasks just waiting to be completed right at the doorstep. It was tempting to sleep in for a few extra minutes, though my body kept on giving me the wake up command to get up and out of the bed.

Turning myself over leftwards brought up the familiar sight of my overly beloved phone and glasses, something that I grew as close as to putting them beside my pillow instead of my work table. I’d reach over and fumble with the phone, turn the screen on and realize that it was a Saturday.

Saturdays would generally hold a special place in my heart, because it was one of the few days where I could care a bit less from the nonsense life would throw at me. I could sleep in a bit more, browse some more webpages, or just simply enjoy some time together with my family as we recuperate from the weekdays; the mindless ramblings of work could be put behind, at least during the evening time, considering how Mom would still have a dayshift today.

Throwing a t-shirt and some pajama pants over my underwear as I got out of the covers, I’d think aback to last night again, mostly towards the dream. I rarely got dreams that vivid, much less with ponies in them. Such occurrences would probably just be a lucky dice roll with the mind, managing to throw everything together in the correct order. Likewise, I thought nothing of it, but still felt some happiness through the interactions as I tried to play back the conceivable portions of it in my head. Mostly at the blue one, Minuette, in how happy she consistently acted through the exchange. It would be nice if the world had a bit more of people like her, I'd give you that.

‘Just another Saturday morning,’ I thought to myself with some more optimism than usual, putting on my glasses left at the side of the bed as I went for the morning’s bathroom break.

Quietly opening my room’s door, the bathroom would be right in front of me across the short hallway. My parents’ room was directly to my left, where my sister would be asleep for most of the mornings. Mom would be getting ready for work at around this time, being in the living room to prepare the new batch of rice and to finish off the leftovers. My dad was a different story, still being asleep from the late evening shifts to catch up on some rest.

Slowly walking into the bathroom, I flipped the lights on and gently locked the door behind me. As I settled down to do my business, I couldn’t help but to notice the hourglass neatly stitched onto my thighs, sending me to attention.

What the hell?

Blinking twice and rubbing my eyes, it didn’t change the input to my eyes. I grunted upwards from the toilet seat, half ticked off and worried at the new, and rather unwelcome discovery to the start of a Saturday morning. I would’ve said it was a tattoo, but the quality and sharpness of it would even place high resolution graphical images to shame.

‘Goddamnit, looks like that dream is giving me some weird hallucinations,’ I thought, pulling my pants up and flushing the toilet, ‘Well, nothing some cold water can’t fix.’

Wetting my hands with some cold water from the tap and throwing it on my face, I tried again as I slipped my pants down a crack to observe- it was still there.

‘Yeah, real funny brain… I didn’t give you drugs or the green light to tell you that you should just go crazy like that. Or did my little sister troll me again?’

Dabbing some water on my hands again, I tried to directly tackle the source with a round of vigorous rubbing instead, only managing to achieve some red skin around the mark. It definitely didn’t appear to be some water based temporary tattoo, yet it didn’t seem to be those permanent ones either, lacking the distinct redness and texture from the inking procedure, assuming that I was sober enough to do it, and if I even drank in the first place. The colours were like pigment, just as if it was supposed to be there in the first place, which alone was pretty disturbing. Since when did humans randomly create natural looking tattoos? The thought alone was just absurd. It definitely didn't help in the increased sensitivity of the area, with the disturbing lack of texture to suggest that it was a tattoo.

My little sister could have been responsible, but I really doubt that she could've produced something that sharp on my thighs without waking me up; she probably had those washable ones, or oil based ones at the very best. I left the bathroom for my own room, finding the rubbing alcohol and some dusty napkins. I chuckled at the thought when I caught sight of the lighter not that far away, reminding me of those cheeky Internet memes that seemed to be permanently cohesive within my mind after the sessions.

'Killing it with fire... the best way if you want to get rid of something you don't want... hehe...'

Well, I wasn't going to Howtobasic my house down, so no need to do that anytime soon. Despite the dust present on the napkins, they were still clean- I dabbed them with the isopropyl alcohol for a second round of rubbing, instead causing me to wince from the sensitivity as I ran it across the mark. It didn't hurt, but was strange enough to prompt me to think twice before applying random things to liberal use there. Either that was some pretty black magic she used on me, or I was just going nuts.

'But then, why would she want to do that?' I thought, tossing the napkin aside as I got dressed. I wrote off the possibility of my sister being involved, as even by chance she did hire someone or was actually that talented, there was no profitable reason for her to waste her time or allowance by trying to troll me like that, and she sure as hell knows that. I thought back towards the dream again, and how the mark was just like the unicorn’s, but I quickly wrote it off. Such the incidence that the dream was real just didn't seem possible in any logical way. It was already 6:27 however, meaning that I had little time to conceive of anymore random ideas before having to take another crash course on driving. I'll save that for later, if never...

Bacon and Eggs were the typical breakfast when the staple of rice was made unavailable, but still welcomed as a useful calorie filler asset within the household. It was common practice to scarf a few of them down with a cucumber, as per all weekend mornings when such food was available. I’d already be dressed appropriately beforehand, knowing the pace of mornings all too well since the past year.

Taking the back fire exit to the garages nearby, the car keys would be turned over to me, in the gesture that I take the wheel. Being a G1 driver still, my dad still had to be in the front passenger seat in the typical morning’s practice run. I'd ignore his whatever assertions on the need to drive for a university program co-op, as I just believe that fate is unpredictable like that. He wasn't happy at the thinking, but even he admitted that it was probably true.

Buckling up and starting the ignition, I shifted into gear and let go of the brake slowly as my parents fastened up. Once the car was out halfway through the garage, I’d give the wheel a sharp turn to the right, with the sight of the main road just ahead in a straight clearing between two separate apartment buildings.

Checking both ways before right turning into an almost immediate green light, I gave the SUV some gas, modestly accelerating from ten kilometers an hour to around sixty as I passed the intersection some one hundred meters, easing out on the accelerator as to just maintaining the speed limit. The speed limit was something that I controlled well, given that I didn’t get too intimate with the curb to cause a rollover. It something to work on, even after the months of driving on the weekends. My friends would always joke about that, stating how I was always the worst driver and how we will all die if I drove. I can't blame them, as capitalizing on Chinese driving jokes were always funny, even at the cost of insulting myself.

Being in the driver’s seat was definitely less pleasant than the passenger’s, with constant attention required to keep both the vehicle and speed limit in tie. I took vague note of the industrial zone further up ahead just across the valley, following into a right turn at the usual intersection, wary of any oncoming traffic or pedestrians. Geometry was the key in avoiding the curb and running into oncoming traffic at all times, while the general state of readiness was almost mandatory to prevent any accidents with disobedient pedestrians through the following neighbourhood, even at such an early hour on a Saturday.

We arrived at the nursing home five minutes before the shift without incident, dropping my mom off before heading back. Nothing too special on the return route, other than the usual practice of executing the left turn. Not much to fuss over in the morning time, given the distinct lack of traffic at the earlier hours of the morning. Uniform acceleration and proper handling of the wheel would be all that matters in trying to stay on your own lane.

Once back in the parking lot, my dad would take over the dirtier task of parking the car back into the garage, given that the corridor was only a few inches wider than the car on both sides. I still had to focus on the unfinished work from yesterday, given that finishing earlier meant the reduced hassle of having to think about the darned concept in the first place. The clock was ticking, starting distinctively as I fetched the work from my table again.

Apart from the leftover traces of math from yesterday, chemistry was left in the dust, with the worksheets still untouched from yesterday. They might as well call it math at this level, given the amount of calculations with the overall symbol of chemistry hastily slapped over it. It was that far apart from everyone’s expectations of being able to cook crystal meth that a good third of the class dropped out within the first month of classes out of sheer boredom.

Well, not like that biology class fared much better.

Practice questions aside, it was time for the digital segment once more, namely a PowerPoint and Microsoft word. That was the group presentation we had to do on some sealant company that I found way back in early April with a few friends. For the most part, we were done, but familiarisation can still be a problem when one person does all the work. Not that I really cared that they didn’t do their part as expected, there was just concern that we would get busted and they would be rewarded with the zero as common treatment.

Booting up the laptop stashed at the corner of the table returned the sight of the generic windows desktop background, with the assorted clutter of unorganized documents all over the desktop. The latest modification should be on the desktop somewhere, yet it was so difficult to locate even out in the open.

Bringing up the presentation PowerPoint, I quickly skimmed over some thirty slides of point information, along with the ten page report we were supposed to hand in with the presentation on next Wednesday. It felt pretty good to know that you’ve accomplished something meaningful with your time, above all the other ramblings your life can just manage to hurl at you without a cease in streak.

My hair seemed to agree with the statement, deciding to tickle me behind the ears. Though not really noticing it at first, running a hand through it to push it back made me realise that my hair was definitely longer than before. I knew I was overdue for a haircut for about a week or so, but holy crap, it definitely wasn’t this long just this morning!

Eyeing the reflection of myself through the blank screen of my smartphone nearby confirmed that my hair just grew longer, but more disturbingly, it was changing colour, taking on a tone of blue and periwinkle from the usual shade of black it had been for all my life.

I squinted at the reflection again. Surely my brain wasn’t incorrectly registering stuff? Speaking of which, does that mean the mark on my thigh was still there from this morning?

My thesis turned correct upon slipping my pants down to check- the hourglass was still there, no changes from this morning. Panic set before me as I ran a hand across the mark, still as sensitive as this morning. I rummaged my mind for an answer before I thought of the blue pony again.

Wait, what?

I shook my head. Really brain? I know that I enjoyed the show in watching bits and pieces with my little sister, but even then, the thought of turning into a pony was completely outrageous and impossible in its own league. Cartoon ponies aren’t real, aren’t they? Even if the changes were suspiciously coincidental?

Well, no harm done in a quick day of google searching. A query of the term ‘minuette’ brought up a wall of images of the similar look of the blue pony, in an assorted variety of official or fan work. Some of them I’ve seen once or twice, others looking like an episode of some sort that I didn’t watch yet. Then came the porn…

I sighed in frustration. No, not at the porn, mind you. It’s that bottle of feelings brewing up again- its confirmed that I’ve began to gain some features of a cartoon character, but the thing is, what am I supposed to do about that? I do recall something about a social experiment and turning into a pony, but that still left an odd spot. Magic wasn’t supposed to be real, was it? But nonetheless, seeing how two changes happened without me doing anything, I thought back at last night again. So that was real, was it?

I shook my head, glancing at the clock- it was just a tad past 10. Seeing the breakthrough in work completion for the weekend and the overall indetermination and frustration with an unexpected turn in events, I decided that a break should be underway. I shouldn't be thinking like that; I should be doing something else, even if it isn't productive. At the very least it won't cause any mental illnesses relating to processing stuff that was completely meaningless, given that I can’t change the past.

Facebook was probably the first stop, in order to check up on the group chat with my friends. Indeed, it had quite a bit of activity on, being subsequently re-named to ‘Nazi Human Experimentation Chamber #666’, probably relating to the toxic cesspool of memes Tom posted again as I scrolled up the feed. I had muted it a while back, given how much it causes my phone to go off during evening times.

More importantly, it was the ultimate showcase of how misleading looks are. Tom was my best friend and probably the nicest person around in public, but that completely changes when he gets online; nothing and no one was safe from him, not even his bigger brother Greg. But that was all fine and dandy, because we knew that it was all satire and there were no hard feelings leftover. I did find it quite strange how I was the only one on today, given how everyone else spams this thread at this time usually, but that wasn’t really my business.

Eventually I came across the first new picture posted and I had to supress a laugh. It wasn’t technically even funny, but the sheer shock value and absurdity is enough to make most people laugh like an idiot. Seeing that there were still some four hundred messages left to go through, I knew that it was going to be a good browse to keep me occupied.

The abrupt sound of my phone going off reminded me that I almost forgot about my surroundings.

How long ago since I got onto the computer? Probably too long, but that probably wasn’t all that important. Another glance at the display in the smartphone determined that it was only around 11, still not too horribly late for the events concerning Saturdays. More importantly however, it was a text message from my friend, Bilal:

Art thou tither with thee kevin?

Aw great, now he’s trying to sound Shakespearean with whatever language translator he just got his hands on. Can’t blame him, given how common the procedure was for such random outbursts to happen over SMS or the Facebook group chat, as no harm’s done with a little dicking around after or before a day of work. We don’t even bother to shut each other up over it anymore, as the drama value was more valuable than the few kilobytes of bandwidth being expended.

Parlez en engrish tu putain

Normally I wasn’t a fan of anything in French given the mandatory French courses that we all managed to hate (mostly because of the teachers), speaking in its broken pieces worked well for the comedic effect in random arguments like these. But really, native French speakers would still laugh at the average French student’s level of comprehension in the language- not even the ones that aced the class would be able to utilize French that well.

Kevin qu'est-ce que c'est tu parlez en francis demain aujourd'hui

不知道

傻逼

lol

but really do u want to go out or something

I grinned. Nothing a little native tongue can’t achieve in the act of inflammatory behavior. The French teachers would probably roll over in their graves upon seeing how poorly we utilize the language straight out of 9th grade and beyond.

with who

elias and Sam

meet me at the shops mkay

fine

where do you propose

Several minutes passed, still no reply from the last message.

‘Son of bitch,’ I cussed mentally, packing away the schoolbooks and pencil case into my backpack that was left lying unceremoniously on the floor from last night. I eyed the laptop and folded it into the bag as well, knowing that Bilal was probably going to ask me some questions over the group project before the others arrive.

I glanced at my hair again, the malignant strands of blue and periwinkle seeming to advance a bit further down my hair. I shouldn’t let the family see me like this; my sister would think that I was going insane, and my parents would question why I would do this to myself. Besides, I could just go to a barber shop to eliminate the evidence; no need to bust my back over something of insignificance that could really just be covered up. I’ll just have to reduce my head’s cross section with that cap of mine again…

Bag slung over shoulder, I departed quickly and discretely, arriving in the hallways not a minute later. My dad was still asleep, and my sister too preoccupied with her own tasks in the living room nearby the door, not that she would really care or notice if I left the house. Relationships with her were complicated at the very best, and strained at the very worst. It wasn’t the best result, but we were still siblings to each other, both of us acknowledging the fact.

The elevator down to the first floor lobby immediately faced the glass plane front door, with my school right across from the street. I took vague notice of it as I pushed open the front door, headed down towards the intersection immediately visible to my left. Traffic wasn’t horribly busy given a Saturday, with the occasional few groups of cars passing through the main road every few minutes. Likewise, most of the apartments in the block was predominantly occupied by the elderly or the students, leading to a lack of activity during the early half of a day during offtimes. While the roach infestation was definitely an off putter, it was the typical Canadian neighbourhood found within the suburbs, with a sensation that I would gladly call a home.

Turning westwards at the intersection, I headed off on my way. I wasn't just going to let some hair stop me from my daily actions. That is, if I don’t gain anymore pony features. Ugh, there we go again brain, now would you quit thinking like that?!

I found Bilal at Pizza Pizza.

The Lawrence area used to have a large shopping mall in place of its shops right now, which in all honesty, was much more successful than the renovation product that happened a few years ago. By turning the mall into small clusters of shops saw an increase in the material costs and a sharp drop in sales. We joked with friends in calling the whole thing ‘The Soviet Effect’, where upon dividing an entity into smaller, individual ones, there was sure to be some form of economic catastrophe at hand.

While there were actually many restaurants in the ‘shops’, Pizza Pizza was arguably the most hangout friendly and familiar one to the native student population. Food wise, pizza and chicken wings were upon the most popular, even over the supposed ravish for burgers in the stereotyped North American population. Despite the alleged ravaging of the place by some students a few years back, the place was still your typical hangout place by the native populace.

Oh, and the free Wi-Fi services. It was one of the few restaurants in the area that had an open network, to which it succeeded in drawing in quite the attention amongst the customers. Likewise, it wasn't hard to determine where my friend would choose to set up shop, even when he didn't tell me where he was going specifically.

Bilal had already occupied a table, being equipped with some fries, a pizza and some wings. I pulled up a seat from the table and sat in front of him.

We were quick friends, to say the least. We only met a few months ago in February, but were quick to get together after finding common ground as work partners. It wasn't long before he entered into our small circle of friends, working collaboratively to infuriate the teachers with varying degrees of success through our dumbass behavior in the classroom, but still managing to pull our weights off when it came to assessments. The perfect combination to get teachers to think, ‘Are they mental?'

“Hey Kevin buddy,” he greeted, extending a shaking hand to which I accepted, “You’re here pretty early today.”

“First once, first always,” I replied, “Also, why didn’t you tell me that you were coming here?”

“I was gonna text you, but decided that you would know where we usually went anyways,” he explained.

“Fair enough, fair enough,” I agreed, owing to the previous hangouts. Trailing my eyes towards the pizza, I couldn’t help to notice the toppings, “Vegetarian again?”

“Not allowed to eat pork, man,” he reminded, “I got wings this time, too.”

“Chicken wings?” I asked, placing the bag to the chair next to me, as if chicken was the newest thing in the world to me.

“Yeah. Wanna bite?”

“Sure thing,” I replied, taking a wing for myself, “Sorry about forgetting the religious protocol.”

“Don’t worry about it dude,” he reassured, “We’re all dumb like that sometimes.”

“Especially me,” I proclaimed, “No one can be dumber than this guy here.”

“Yeah, trying to light a matchstick with a beaker, we have an Einstein right here!” Bilal teased sarcastically.

“Exactly,” I agreed, wiping off my hands with a napkin as I reached into my bag for the portable computer, “I brought the giant bag of no life as well this time, seeing that we’re going to present on Wednesday.”

“Cool,” he replied, moving the boxes around to make room for the computer, “So we’re done?”

“Yep,” I stated, booting up the computer, “Just making sure you know what’s going on so far, cause I don’t want you guys to fail.”

“Yeah, by doing almost everything for us,” he said with disappointment and remorse.

“That’s just me, I like a challenge,” I replied, picking out the documents needed, “It’s actually not that hard, so no hard feelings on my side.”

I gave him another quick overview on the PowerPoint layout and his slides of responsibility, along some quick pointer facts on the more scientific terms, such as the repeating monomers or the catalyst reactions. I actually didn’t know too much about it myself, but sometimes you just need to pretend to know what you’re talking about for the teacher to give you a good mark.

“Yeah, so you get it now? Hope I’m not going too fast for ya.”

“No, I think I got it,” he reassured, “We’re going to nail that presentation.”

“Exactly,” I gave him a smile, “Because we didn’t go this far just to fail.”

“Like that other group, where the guys can’t even pronounce ‘polyurethane’ properly,” Bilal forced back a snicker.

“This is a polyur,” I mimicked the quote to the best my voice can go.

“And this is that, and that is that,” he added on.

“Man, and I thought they were good at academics,” I chuckled, “But they did even worse than the self-proclaimed dumbass,” forcing back a cough, “Well, looks like I can’t get too cocky like that.”

“True true…” he agreed, “Say, can I ask you a question, Kevin?”

“Go ahead.”

“What’s that sticking out of your hat?”

I knew that it was probably some strand of hair that caught his attention, though I did my best to lie about it, “It’s probably just the washing and materials tag,” I reinforced with a smile.

“Seriously man, since when were those tags all in fine strands and coloured blue?”

“The ones made in China?” I said, giving the best shit eating grin I could muster up to counter his uninterested face.

“Welp, no use in hiding here,” I gave in, peeling the cap off my head to reveal the content underneath, “There you have it.”

Bilal blinked a few times at the sight, “Uhh, what?”

“Go on.”

“Yeah, uh,” he started, “Why would you dye your hair like that?”

“Lack of proper hair dye?” I joked off, “But seriously speaking, it happened sometime this morning as I was working, and went from there.”

“So you’re turning into some anime character?” he asked.

“No clue, but if I were to guess, I could be turning into brony bait instead,” I corrected at his insight. I should avoid talking about the dream, lest I want to make him think that I’m going full insane…

“You watch the show too?”

“At times with my sister,” I said, omitting the part of me watching it myself for god forbid, “Because someone has to keep her company when everyone else is busy.”

“And I thought you hated her for all the shit she did to you before,” my friend pointed out rather bluntly.

“Hey, I do despise her at times, but I’m her big bro,” I defended, “It’s my responsibility.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismissed, trying to move on with his original question, “So what about turning into this pony character you were going to tell me about?”

“How about this one?” I replied, pulling up a picture of ‘Minuette’ on my computer, “I know, its like I’m on weed right now…”

“Yeah man, what type of weed are you smoking, and where can I get some?” he laughed out loud, ignoring the awkward looks being directed towards our table, “Sorry man, that was just unintentionally hilarious for some reason.”

“I know, right?” I jerked a thumb at the computer as I turned it back to face me, “I never knew that magic was that powerful, to be honest-“

“Heeey, who’s this babe you got over here?” said a voice with a horribly faked Indian accent, “Bilal, did you get a new girlfriend?”

By that line alone, I could tell that it was Samir, frequently going by the nickname Sam, the biggest pervert in the whole group with his obsession in girls, to the point of randomly groping them within the school hallways. OK, maybe not actual groping, but groping gestures, which was close enough. Not to say that he didn’t get into trouble over it, but he got off the hook much lighter than expected on more than a few occasions, given the very real possibility on being charged sexual assault on the hook.

Likewise, he was finally able to make out who I was once he settled his coke down and I turned to face him, delivering a look of disapproval.

“Kevin?” he laughed, upon confirming my face, “I knew that you always wanted the booty, but I didn’t know that you were a fan of crossdressing, at least not in public!”

“Fuck off man,” I asserted, “I know you’re into strippers and that I look weird as fuck right now, but I’m not the one that’s trying to fuel your boner over here!”

“Then why the girlish hair tone in public?” he questioned, “Are you trying to date a man by pretending to look like a woman?”

“Are you really that fucking stupid?” I quipped, “I know that I'm far from normal, but how would it be crossdressing if only part of my hair was dyed?"

"Sorry, I meant that you looked like a cheap stripper."

"Yeah, Hasbro would make for great strippers when Kevin's hairstylist..." Bilal added in. I gave him a look of disapproval.

"Hasbro?" Sam slammed his hands down on the table abruptly, facing me like a father catching his son in a guilt act, "Kevin man! Why didn't you just tell us?"

"What?" though deep inside, I think I already knew how the next segment will play out.

"We weren't going to hurt you for being gay!"

Called it.

"So which pony are you trying to cosplay as?" he continued, somehow managing to see through all the shrubbery without hindsight, "I can even buy you the rest of the hair dye you need to finish the colour for your hair!"

"Great, looks like your porn collection wasn't just limited to Frozen characters in latex strap ons..." Bilal facepalmed.

"Yeah, including your mom," he provoked, inciting a glare from Bilal.

"Hey Sam," I leaned in closer, giving him the whispering gesture.

"Yeah?"

"What if I told you that this all happened in the span of me completing my homework this morning?"

He scratched his chin, the gears within his brain audibly turning, “Are you suggesting that you’re turning into a pony?”

“I won’t rule out that possibility," I said with my hands up, and feeling myself blush profusely, “I’ll see what happens. It still feels like its impractical on a biological basis...”

He seemed to notice the blushing, “Alright, what are you hiding?”

I showed him my computer. He returned with a priceless look.

“Man, you’re turning into a girl, too?” he laughed, “Man, what more can I ask for, when I realise that my best friend is trans?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that you’re getting your ass trolled?” Bilal interjected at Sam’s statement.

“Since when do I ever get trolled?” he retorted.

“How about that time when you got caught watching a reassignment surgery video with Jason in Tech class?” I asked with an annoyed expression.

“Yeah, well Jason’s an asshole for leaving his phone with me,” Sam returned quickly.

“In other words, you got trolled.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Sam started at it again, “You’re still a pervert.”

“Oh so I’m the pervert now?” I interjected at the statement, “Then why were you watching the video in the first place?”

“It was an educational video and I planned to be a doctor-“

“That is so fake,” Bilal said to no one in particular.

“-even though you said you were going to be a brain surgeon,” I said, cutting Sam off, “Alright, how about we settle this in a bet, then?”

“Alright then,” Sam smirked, “You want to propose to concrete your position then?”

“Sure,” I started, "If I get myself off first, then I forgive all the debt you owe me," I offered, instantly causing his face to brighten up.

"It's a deal!" he said, taking the offer instantly regardless of the odds I have yet to offer.

"But if you get yourself off to some weird fetish video of yours before me, you're going to crossdress for the next two weeks," I smirked, watching with much enjoyment as his grin straightened out to a thinking stature.

Scratching his chin, Sam replied, "I'll still take it. It's still going to be worth less than all the money I owe you. Plus, its easy."

"But where are you going to get shirts like that?" Bilal asked, “And wishful thinking on your part, Sam.”

"I'll just ask Elias to find some random Barbie shirt from his little sister's," I chuckled.

Hey, what could I say? His polarity from Sam was an easy way to acquire whatever nonsense we may or may not need for our quest against our... unpredictable opponent. Which once again, is sometimes impossible to distinguish from super best friend to Joseph Stalin’s gulags, I don’t know. The other plus side was that his little sister still liked whatever girly stuff that was being churned out of our entertainment sectors, and was only one year younger than us, so ‘Crime and Punishment’ was always feasible.

"Speaking of Elias, where is he?" Bilal asked, checking his phone, "It's already 12 and he's still not here!"

“Yeah, he’s almost never late more than a few minutes in our group gatherings,” I added.

"Maybe he finally grexited on us instead of paying back his debt," Sam made a fist, in clear reference to his heritage.

"Economics and finance much?" I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, because when he pays back the two dollars he owes you demand for five," Bilal rolled my eyes.

"Hey shut up!" he replied with a playful punch towards him, "How else am I supposed to capitalize on the opportunity?"

"Go stripping then," I said, "I heard they pay like 150 an hour."

"Yeah, let's go do that in Saudi Arabia once we find Elias," Sam looked over to Bilal, "So what's he doing?"

"I dunno," he replied, placing his phone down on the table, "He's not on Facebook, nor is he replying to my texts."

"That son of bitch," Sam cursed, "Kevin, you go text him."

"Why do you think that if I text him, it would be all shits and rainbows?" I rolled my eyes.

“Because he keeps telling me to go eat curry and suck a dick almost every time I try to do that,” he replied in a realistic manner for once, “And you’re the only other guy with a serviceable phone.”

“Ugh, fine,” I sighed in defeat, retrieving my phone. To be honest though, at least he wasn’t going to pull the wool over my eyes by using my number to text him some random inflammatory shit.

hey bro, we got food here at the pizza place

we didn’t eat too much without you

it’s all paid for this time, no one will steal your money

and plz don't grexit on us over what Sam said

I decided at that point to not get too malicious with the text bombardments and to give it a minute or so. Eventually this came back:

KEVIN

what

I have a question

I felt that something was off at this.

what?

ok I know this sounds retarded but

what color is your hair

I was rather surprised at this. So does that mean I wasn’t the only one? No point hiding it then.

blue and white

holy shit

so that wasn’t some bullshit

I’m coming over then

“Did he reply?” Sam asked in unison with Bilal.

“Yes,” I nodded, “Said he’s experiencing something like me.”

They both looked at me in surprise, “What…”

I ignored the statement, packing up the portable computer, stashing it in its own section of the bag away from the textbooks. I closed the box of the almost untouched pizza and the half box of wings, receiving looks from both partners in crime as I stacked them.

“What are you doing?”

“I told him that we’re coming over,” I replied, slinging the bag over my shoulder, “Come on, we have a delivery to make.”

“Don’t you think doing that is a bit intrusive?” Bilal questioned.

“We’ll just leave after dropping it off if he shoos us away,” Sam reasoned, “We’re all friends, it’s not like we’re going to kill each other for showing up like that.”

“Finally, something we can both agree on,” I smiled, giving the props to Samir.

“Yeah, don’t leave any stuff behind this time, alright?” Bilal gestured towards my hat, lying out on the previously occupied table.

“Of course not,” I said, trying to force the hat back onto my head, but failing to do so because of my hair, which had gotten longer much to my disapproval, “Ugh, this stupid hair. How can people even stand having hair this long?”

“I don’t know,” Sam smirked, picking up the fooditems with him, “But what I do know is that if it continues and you get turned, I’ll be debt free.”

“You know you sound like a gullible little girl when you say that, right?” Bilal stated.

“…Touche.”

Author's Note

That took a bit too long (Damn school). Hopefully later updates won't be as painful as this one.

Once more, feedback is appreciated! :P

Update: I came back and chopped it up so it makes more sense.

June 12, 2017: Fixed some plot issues.

Tensions (Edited)

“Tell me again Kevin, why are we going through this way again?” Bilal asked as we turned the corner for the neighborhood park.

“Because the fatass wants me to pay for his bus ticket,” I replied.

Technically, the main reason was because I had no change to deposit into the fare, as my wallet only had bills. Bilal only had one ticket to get back, while Sam refused to provide change if I gave him the full bill. We were not going to let him play that card on us again. Our money was going to be harder to steal than that by now.

Aside from that, it was technically closer this way. We would be cutting right through what would have been an extra portion of the road by travelling through the neighbourhood. It was also saving fuel and money. That was good, was it?

“Hey, it’s called wise investment,” Sam explained, “Because if I invest right now, I won’t have to pay anything off later on!”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Bilal shot back, “Something is happening to your friend and the first thing you think about is capitalizing on it!”

“Hey, chill the hell out dude,” Sam held his hands up, “You know how I say this shit, but I don’t mean it by the end of the day, right?”

“You sure as hell didn’t mean it when you were with those girls the other day, or in trying to pay back what you already owe,” Bilal countered.

“Alright guys, I think I’m not that famous yet,” I stated, managing to get them to cease their bickering, “So if you ladies can break it off, that would be great.”

It should have come to no surprise to me, to be completely honest. Sam seemed to have some perverse enjoyment in starting inflammatory arguments with Bilal- more precisely so in railing him with the frequent accusations over committing terrorism under the premise of being religious, with me hitched as the middle ground the majority of the time. We were bound to be attacked by fundamentalists one day if we kept this up, even if it was mostly on Sam's part.

Then again, his poor credit record with the girls were bound to get the hate wave headed his way, regardless of the religious bigotry.

“You should be worried about yourself,” Bilal said, “Because I think your hair is actually getting longer.”

“Say Kevin, can I tell you something?”

“Shut up, Sam!” he obstructed in disapproval.

I ran a hand through my hair again, confirming Bilal’s notification. I retrieved the phone for the selfie camera to check. Through the fuzzy and overexposed image sensor I made out the overall image of my hair- it was about a foot long now, with the colours being completely replaced with the dual tone that started appearing just this morning. The sight surprised me, to say the least, given the rapid course of growth it had experienced through the morning, yet had not been unexpected to the whole degree. I set the thought aside.

Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I turned to Sam, “You were saying?”

“Yeah,” he picked up, “How about I make the deal easier for you?”

“No, I’m a man of my word,” I mumbled, not really paying attention above all matters, “The deal is a deal. End of story…”

“But what about lady? Are you a lady of your word?“

“You see, this is why it’s so easy to troll you,” Bilal rolled his eyes.

“Let’s just see what the hormones can do,” I sighed in response to Sam, “I’ll argue with you later.”

It seemed to have worked- the two stopped their act as we passed through the local Elementary school park, across towards the other half of the neighbourhood. The sight reminded me of a few friends calling it the ‘concentration camp’ over the overly strict management in the teachers with the students. My sister didn’t seem to complain much about the school, but she was easily satisfied either way.

Further northbound from the field was a path to the valley, or towards the rest of the neighbourhood if we were going the other way in case. It was definitely less glorious than the apartments and single houses on the other side, with some of them appearing to be close to falling apart, or fenced in within the wooden signs offering some irrelevant relationship between houses and profit.

A couple of small industries also set up shop in the area too- they were cornered in by the two lane railroads that ran directly above the passenger lanes. If anything, the land was probably cheaper there, or just unsuitable for real estate. There already was a housing pandemic of too many houses being built here in Canada, no need to clog up more potentially useful land with vacant houses.

The first suite next to the townhouses just across the road from the run down block had a parking lot leading to a hole in the fence barricading the path to the raised railroad, being erected just past the sound dampening walls. It was torn in just the corner, concealed from direct sight from the parking lot under most days.

I gestured towards the low cut hole, directing them in the way that was intended to be followed. There was no rain recently, so chances of the side depression turning into a swamp were unlikely so. Cleaning out your shoes with a toothbrush is not fun, to say the least.

The realisation hit me like a crash test dummy. Something was compressed between the belt of my pants when I bent down to pass through the hole, forcing a strained yelp out from me over the acuteness of the pain. It was like an extension from my spine was just out there being pressed.

“What happened?” Sam ran over with Bilal just behind, “Are you alright? Do you still know who I am?”

“I-I’m fine,” I reassured, ignoring that last statement, reaching towards the rear end of my pants, “Ugh, give me a second. There’s something in my…”

Feeling around in the back of my pants, I gave confirmation that there was definitely something there, in the sense that it shouldn’t be there in the first place. As it was going to be painful and awkward to directly pull out the appendage like that, I was forced to undo my belt before proceeding on in retrieving the hairy appendage from the fabric prison.

I eyed at the appendage with a stupid look as I held it in my hand, with the two friends seeming to have backed up a little bit in shock at the sight. I would have shared their feelings, except for the fact that I was the one being affected. The thing had the same colour scheme as hair, and while its hairs were silky and the two colours were neatly partitioned from each other, the sensation of it still disturbed me. Humans didn’t have tails, and the fact of just having one rendered me unable to form a proper reaction. Part of me was freaking out, yet the majority won over, leaving me with complete indifference as my brain failed to properly process at the input given.

And by not caring, it helped me relax, even when the thought and fact of a first class contingency was all too real. Sometimes, it was a good thing when your brain farts like that- it saves a lot of energy and trouble.

“Well, this is just going to ruin my day…” I mumbled to no one in particular, tucking the thing back into my pants and refastening the belt, “Come on, let’s go.”

The two looked at me, dumbfounded as they processed the world back into their heads. They’re probably thinking the whole idea on how I just shrugged it off like nothing.

“Are you guys good from here?”

“Uhh…”

“Just cut across that unfenced parking lot towards the road,” I instructed, pointing towards the north end of the lot, “You should know where to go from there. I’ll see you at the front door.”

“Hey, wait! Where are you going-“

“Don’t worry about me! I’ll see you there.”

There was only the grunt and sigh of disapproval as the two started off after me, only to stop and to head their own way once they realised the course I was headed for. I knew that they cared as friends, but they also knew that I was a grown man like them in the capability of making self-decisions. They didn’t need to follow me towards every single gap I was headed in, especially if they were going to put themselves in needless danger over something I could handle myself. I’ll let their questions come at me later over my sudden course of actions, as it was not something that I wanted to deal with at the moment.

My brain was still operating on a mind of its own given the new information processed. With the two taking to the rendezvous with the scenic route as I went across the railroad bridge running over the highway westwards for a shorter trip. That was the fourth time within 24 hours that such an event took place. It was almost turning into an unhealthy fetish for a frequency that often.

Luckily, there were no trains to sneak up from behind me or ahead of me this time as I scaled the length from directly down the middle of both tracks in record time, ignoring the occasional wary honk from the drivers down below on the highway. One of them were bound to call 911 sooner or later reporting a guy trying to commit suicide, but I wasn’t planning to stay until that happens.

Quickly descending from the tracks once more and onto the nearby trail leading into some trees. I followed it towards the outside of Elias’s condo, a short black fence obscuring the most scenic route towards the lobby not too far ahead. At least when the coast appeared clear, I quickly leaped over the fence, hoping not to be seen. My tail was upon the most prominent opponent, protesting sharply at the maneuver as it was compressed within the confines of my pants.

I didn’t like that new part of me, even when if it was only there for just a few minutes. The thing was quite literally a pain in the ass, being a constant annoyance in what would be otherwise been a fairly normal maneuver. Most importantly, it wasn’t even welcome there in the first place, in just deciding to appear on my body like that. It would probably be more comfortable to keep it out of my pants, but doing it out in the open seemed to be a blatantly sub stellar idea with the attention factor alone. The hair alone was already disturbing enough as it is, with more than a few strange looks already being exchanged on the way as I was crossing my neighbourhood.

On the bright side, no one seemed to have noticed the little intrusion caused by the following dumbass. The feel of the adrenaline rush was made better when your mind disregards the potential danger you’ve just been through, given that you realised how sometimes knowing that you broke the rules was easily one of the best feelings you can have in life. The moments were rare, yet the sensation easily lasts a longer than you would expect.

The brick red condo was just across a short climb of stairs and the small roundabout. I waited in the lobby for my friends to catch up, eventually arriving several minutes later.

I had the code provided by Elias already punched in as they got through the door, holding it open for the two as we hurriedly got into the lobby for that elevator waiting at the first floor. The landlady caught us on several occasions already by using the code to enter, and her tantrums were upon the last thing we would want to deal with during a Saturday contingency.

No one said a word as I withdrew the tail from my pants after we got into the elevator. I definitely didn’t want the thing to be a part of me right now, but at the moment I had few choices. It was more comfortable to keep it outside of the fabric prison, considering the fact that it was practically an extended portion of the spine being compressed by the waistband. I’d say it’s better to keep it out when no strangers were around.

I sensed their confusion, the looks giving it right away, “Look, I know you guys are probably wondering why I didn't freak, because the thing is, that would be pointless. Complaining doesn’t help accomplish anything.”

The two gave me a look. They were still not convinced over my course of actions, and may quite possibly think that I was going insane. I wouldn’t be surprised- the random growth of limbs that didn’t belong to you would be more than enough to cause some sort of panic. But this occurrence did solidify that confirmation that last night was not a yiff.

“What, is trying to not care and let live that weird given these circumstances?”

“Well then, what is worth worrying about, then?” Bilal interjected at my statement, finally finding the composure.

“For starters, let’s hope the landlady didn’t see us this time,” I pointed, deciding to change the topic completely in the immediately practical sense, “Or anything that would be relevant immediately.”

“So true…” Sam affirmed, glancing down at his clock, “But it’s almost 1 in the afternoon, so she’s getting high right now or something.”

“And not even that is worth caring about,” Bilal reiterated from my earlier statement.

“Exactly!”

“Yeah, as long as she’s high or something, it lowers the chances of her whining like she’s on her period or something, for all I care.”

The lift arrived at the seventeenth floor not long after our bickering ceased, with the suite being just a quick turn from the left of the elevator. I knocked the chestnut door gingerly as I waited for an answer, but the forefront of my mind told me that I was just happy in how my friends didn’t question my integrity with the tail.

“Do you think he’s even home?” Bilal questioned.

“He SHOULD be…” I trailed off, “I mean, if he wasn’t, he would have told us in text. Besides, he said he wasn’t going on the family trip thing.”

“True,” he returned, “Did you check your messages?”

I almost slapped myself at that, how could I have forgotten? Bringing up the screen revealed that he had already sent a message over already:

where do u want to meet up?

already here

The reply came back within a minute.

give me a sec

“Alright, he said he’s going to be out in a minute…”

Sam crouched down for the mail slot in the door, “Come on Mr. Elias! If you seek your pizza, tear down this door!”

“Damnit Sam!”

I had to laugh at that. It was one of the moments of political parody that was worth a chuckle or two, considering the usual mood of crude sex jokes around Sam.

“HEY! KEEP IT DOWN OUT THERE!” oh shit, we just woke him up again…

“Damnit guys, did you just wake him up again?!” came Elias’s voice from behind the door.

“Um… yes?” I replied, “We have food, too.”

“Really?” he exasperated, “You guys didn’t need to. But still, goddamnit Sam!”

“Why me?” Sam asked with faux innocence.

“Because you live,” Elias returned through the door. I could tell that he was looking through the peephole, “So it really did happen to you too, Kevin.”

Before any of us could notice it, the door was open, with Elias half hidden behind the door as he looked at us. At least I think it was him- His hair was almost like a wig, dominated with long strands of gold and yellow from the usual mottled brown we were all used to seeing in the past. Despite not being the smartest kid on the block, I was still able to confirm that it was still him. I doubted that he was trying to troll us- those schemes were just quickies being done at a convenient time. Anything else meant that you were trying too hard.

The both of us eyed each other awkwardly, a second that seemed to have lasted hours. We were not interested in initiating a Mexican standoff in the hallway of a condo, considering that we just aggravated the old man over our commotion. Getting right to the point seems like a good idea.

"Can we come in?"

He didn't say a word, opening up the door all the way to grant us the passage we needed. I assumed that it was more of an order rather than a request, with me taking the lead in hurrying through the open door into the condo unit. I settled my bag down beside the door with my hat perched on top, taking vague notice of Elias eyeing at my new features.

The door clicked shut, with the deadbolt and chain lock being applied as Sam and Bilal entered. The strange reassurance of safety followed suit with the door secure, knowing how it was only a small group of close friends occupying the suite. One of the few times where the lack of parents actually made me feel safer than I would if they were actually here. Given the situation and speculations at hand, they were more than certainly going to spark a panicked fit over the remains of their kid being turned into some mutant. That was probably the last thing I needed in a contingency like this right now.

Surprisingly, Elias let the pressure off this time, with the most unexpected lines for his situation, "Wow, looks like I'm not alone here. That takes off a giant weight on my chest," he chuckled, “You can probably guess why I didn’t go to pizza with you guys.”

I tried to come up with a witty remark to comeback to that, yet I was unable to do so as I reflected the same set of feelings. I pulled up a chair to settle down near the dining room table, looking around awkwardly at the others and the room.

"You can just settle the food down on the table again," Elias said, gestured for the living room, "We'll dig in on that later."

Silence soon followed after we were done our preset tasks, with all eyes on Elias. I would be thinking about some conspiracy theory, but my brain was still thinking about last night. I was going to assume that he had the same situation for the moment being.

"Your parents aren't home, right?" I asked abruptly, taking a quick glance around the unit, “I know they’re probably away, but still…”

"Of course not, they're off on some trip with my little sis and bro," he confirmed, "You would know if they were home or not by just standing in the hallway."

"Right, right... but for how long?"

"Like really late," he reassured, "They probably won't be back until like twelve at midnight."

"That's good. You don't mind me staying here for a few hours, right?" I know what he was going to say, yet I still needed that additional false sense of security.

"Don't mention it," he sighed, "I'd probably do the same thing if I were you given the uneasiness."

"So you're not mad at the random intrusion?"

"Like I said, don't mention it."

That brought me some newfound relief. I would still have to face the issue later, but at least for the time being, I had a few hours to think it over. Because given the events, we needed a lot of time to think (or just to forget about it), mainly for the uncertainty part of being the pony thing. It was expected, but conflicting. For the plus side, at least Elias was keeping his head calm for the moment being. That saves us a lot of trouble in many a factor to mention.

"So it’s been happening to you too, huh?” I asked, unsure on what to say, just trying to break the silence.

Our host eyed at me for that statement, looking at my hair, and then back behind me, inspecting the tail that I let out of my pants. He then gave me the eyeball before telling me his final verdict, “Most probably in my assumption. Also, I hope you like anime-coloured eyes.”

The following caused me to pause, and made me beeline towards the bathroom where I could get a good look at myself in the mirror. True to his statement, my eyes had been re-coloured to his simile comparison of anime from the usual shade of brown. I took further notice of the hair on my head growing down my neck. If it wasn’t for the two factors, I’d probably have taken Bilal’s word for the anime girl transformation.

Our host was in the doorway waiting by the time I was ready to leave the bathroom. I returned the eyeball to him, identifying that the same event has happened to him as well.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked with the hint of a smirk.

“Yes there is,” I replied confidently, “I hope you like yellow eyes with your hair.”

His smirk disappeared almost immediately, with him moving me aside to get a look at himself in the mirror. His look then returned to me, this time with the more serious intent look to it as he followed me back to the living room.

“Karma, you bitch…”

“Actually, I think I have an idea on what’s going on,” I interjected, “No, it’s not karma this time.”

“Well, thank the heavens,” Elias responded dryly, “But if you have an idea, go ahead.”

“Kevin thinks that he’s turning into a pony,” Sam interjected abruptly, earning the glare of disapproval from Elias, “A Friendship is Magic pony to be precise.”

“Shut up Sam,” Elias returned to Sam, “No one needed to know that you were a horse fucker as well!”

I decided to defend his point this time, considering that he was actually right. “I actually did say that this time.”

“Really now?” he asked with skepticism, “You’re a brony too?”

“Not precisely, and that idea is frequently being dismissed as spaghetti monsters, right Bilal?”

“What he said.”

“Yeah… I really don’t know…” I chuckled nervously, feeling rather uncomfortable at mentioning ponies around my friends and proceeding to go into stupid mode, “I really shouldn’t have mentioned that. But in case you were wondering, it’s the type of stuff that the scientific community regards as stupid.”

“I see…” he said, looking unimpressed.

“And don’t even mention how I know of the show,” I snapped abruptly, “It’s an ugly story.” I facepalmed at that statement, finding an alternative to cover up the inconvenient hole I created, “Just… I don’t even know...”

“How about mutagens?” Sam suggested, “You know, the type of shit that changes DNA to cause cancer or other grotesque deformities.”

“Wonderful suggestion to the discussion, Doctor Sam-“

“Shut the fuck up Sam, you’re that far away from being a doctor,” Elias railed at Sam from being reminded of his doctor antics, gesturing with a finger towards Antarctica on the wall world map, “The only thing you’ll grow up to be is a registered sex offender.”

“Exactly, you piece of shit!” Bilal filled in.

“Come on guys, really?” I sighed, trying to defuse the outburst, “I mean, we have more serious issues on hand, why vent everything on Sam?”

“Because what he said was completely bullshit,” Elias returned quickly, “Mutations do happen, but ever so rarely do they happen to be so coincidentally organized in such a matter.”

“But what he said was scientifically possible in a miniscule chance,” I asserted.

“Yeah, but it’s from Sam the future rapist, so there goes the credibility factor…”

“Yeah, but you didn’t even hear out my side yet!”

“But you’re not Sam,” Elias said, “Besides, I think I might know what you’re going to say already.”

“Go ahead then,” I responded, somewhat surprised.

“Okay then,” he said, sucking in a breath, “Did you have a dream about this?”

I stopped at this mention, “Yes, I did. Did you?”

He nodded, “She told me that she was Lightning Dust, and we had a quick exchange before passing on the deal about switching places with her.”

“Same thing with the social experiment too?” I asked, although I knew what he was going to say.

“Yes.”

It was my turn to be exasperated, “Why the hell didn’t you just say so?”

“You know me, just starting shit with Sam,” he grinned. I sighed at that, should have known…

“You dreamed about this?” Sam asked with a chuckle, “Damn guys, turning all spiritual in one night!”

“Yeah, only because your wet dreams think so,” Elias returned quickly.

“I kind of agree with Sam this time,” I interjected, “He’s probably thinking that we’ve been taken over by the animal gods or something, which wouldn’t be surprising for a normal person…”

Elias went slant eyed at me from that phrase, “You didn’t just call Sam that, did you?”

“What?” I replied.

“Normal.”

I put on my straight face at that.

“True.”

“Quick question, did El just say ‘she’?” Bilal asked, “And wasn’t that thing you were telling me about a girl, Kevin?”

I shot a quick glance at Elias, noticing that he went slightly pale at the mention. That’s just him though, realising some critical things after the key times. I tried to ignore it and return to my friend’s question.

“Yes”

“Aren’t you worried about that?”

I sighed, “What did I tell you about worrying a few minutes ago?”

His mixed face appeared again, “I’m so sorry, master.”

“Don’t be.”

“Hey Kevin?” Elias pitched in again, seemingly regaining his stature.

“Yeah?”

“Since we’re all convinced that we are going through the same thing and how you mentioned its relation to My Little Pony, why don’t we watch the show to tune in?”

While I was relieved that we didn’t break his sanity fuse, it was still a rather large departure from just him in general; He just wasn’t the type of person that randomly takes things for granted, much less throwing around relations to a kid’s cartoon. But then to be honest, this whole situation was a pretty large departure from what we faced before, so some exceptions should be warranted, and this was far from the worst possibilities.

“How would that help the situation?” I questioned, “It’s still a cartoon for the most part, don’t you think that the ‘real’ thing would play out differently?”

“You still convinced me enough at this rate for me to dive right into the shit hole.”

“Oh shit, looks like El wants to go on a marathon today!”

“No,” I said quickly, before Elias could do his part, “I’m going to assume that you only want to watch the episodes that are related to us?” It was strange mentioning that. I never considered something that absurd to be related to me…

“Fine by me.”

I shrugged at the comment, not really seeing any other really meaningful alternative to that. There were worse alternatives, right? We couldn’t be doing the worst things in the world just by watching a kids show after a rather strange chain of events…

…

We started off focusing on Lightning Dust first, watching ‘Wonderbolts Academy’ off the shelf. The premise was simple enough, with Dash entering the Wonderbolts Academy for training, running into an equally competitive foil of herself, Lightning Dust. They become quick friends, where they get into trouble during their competition against one another, culminating with Dust getting expelled for the twister that nearly killed Rainbow’s friends.

“It’s pretty predictable isn’t it?” I asked.

“It’s not horrible,” Bilal stated, “A colourful cartoon with a simple premise, because it is a kid’s show at the end of the day, regardless of how you slice it.”

“I’ve definitely seen worse,” Elias agreed, “But I guess I can see the reason why grown men like the show. Also funny how she wasn’t like that around me.”

“People change,” I replied simply, catching onto the fact that he was probably referring to the sequence last night, “Besides, maybe this whole thing was different either way.”

“I don’t know about you, but you’d make a perfect candidate for her,” Sam stated, “You did everything listed, even the almost killing people part.”

“That only applies when you’re around,” Elias returned, “Because god forbid when you go out of line.”

“No, what?” he turned back with a half confused look, “I was talking about that time with the raccoon.”

“Since they liked that raccoon so much, they could go and fuck it in the tush for all I care,” Elias replied, “But you’re right. That was a close call.”

“Animal activism at its finest…” I added.

“Yeah, and I was only trying to get that thing away from us,” Elias chuckled.

“Looks like I missed a lot.”

“Exactly you did-”

“Say Kevin, does your character ever play in a role for the show?” Elias questioned this time.

“She’s a background character, if I remember correctly,” I shrugged, “Other than some minor background appearances there’s nothing significant about her other than her just being there.”

“Damnit Kevin,” Elias said with disappointment, “For a second there I thought you were going to be Caitlyn Jenner or something.”

“I’m not a hero.”

“She does play a role,” Sam corrected, “Watch ‘Amending Fences’.”

I gave Sam the best ‘Are you kidding me’ face I could muster at that. In sense, I was curious about this character in mentioning, as background characters get little mention apart from the main cast of the show.

“And it looks like that I was brought into relativity once more,” I replied, “I guess that would be the next episode we would watch then?”

As I got no objections to the proposal, I loaded up the episode that Sam was talking about in particular. While it was focused mostly on Twilight, Minuette got the larger chunk of the cake when it came to the speaking roles amongst the other background characters. Otherwise, most of the episode was drama in trying to get an old friend back and making amends.

“She does seem pretty happy when I met her,” I noted, “But if I tried to do that, people would probably think I’m gay or something really traumatic happened.”

“Chin up Kevin, you’re not that different,” Elias said as if it was the answer was that obvious, “I’d say you act happier than everyone else in our group. It’s just a guys-girls type of a thing in external actions.”

“I seriously thought that one of the girls would make a better candidate in terms of energy.”

“Yes, but they doesn’t have the innocence factor,” Elias stated, leading me to give him a look, “Remember that time when Kristy sucked that guy’s dick at the party like a few months ago?”

I nodded, my mind flashing back to that memory again. It was one of those house parties that went over the top; the two were dead drunk, and after some confusing ramblings, they began at it. Their relationship after that party quickly turned awkward, and we never saw them talk with each other again.

“I actually can’t imagine you doing any form of debauchery,” Elias continued, implying towards me, “Do you even watch porn?”

“That I do,” I responded honestly, “Usually just with naked people in it.”

“That’s it?”

“Sometimes bondage, but nothing too weird.”

“Into latex, I see…” he questioned with a smug look.

“It doesn’t have to be latex,” I sunk quietly.

Sam cocked an eyebrow, “At least you watch porn. Do you fap to it?”

I sighed at the comment, “Wouldn’t that be self explanatory?”

“Yeah, says the guy who watches the kid’s show for little girls,” Sam teased, "Nothing is self explanatory with you."

“But you’re the guy shoving porn up our noses with that asshole!” I exasperated, but quickly calming down, “Though I agree with you here. I can’t believe we’re actually watching a kid’s show for little girls…”

“Only to dial in on your weed filled theory that the whole deal was about the show,” Elias pointed out.

“Evidence and rational thought has never made more sense by ending up at a kid’s cartoon,” I responded simply.

“Sure thing, Minuette,” he said, sticking out his tongue teasingly.

“I sure as hell hope you didn’t mean that.”

Sam chimed in this time, “Hey Kev?”

“What?”

“Seeing that this would all go ahead, how would you keep score of that deal we just agreed to?”

“What’s this whole ‘deal’ thing I hear about?” Elias tuned in, “What drugs are you bartering this time?”

“Basically, whoever gets themselves off to their fetishes first loses and has to concede to the demands,” Bilal explained.

Elias returned a straight look before bursting out in laughter.

“Goddamnit Kevin, that’s just too good!” he returned hysterically, “You and Sam, in a nutting contest? That’s literally the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

I felt myself heat up and blush at the mention, yet I still managed to force a smile at that. Luckily Sam took over for me.

“So how are we going to keep score?”

“Transparency,” Elias returned after calming down, “Because we don’t live in a psychotic dictatorship.”

“What if I lied about it?” Sam returned.

“Then we’re going to do some re-education with you.”

“What’s that?” Bilal asked, clueless about our terminology again.

“It means that we’re going to deny him our financial support and probably do some ‘rehab’ once an appropriate situation comes up,” I explained.

“Honestly something we should have done a long time ago,” Elias added.

“Agreed.”

“Hey, I’m right here you know-“

“Shut the fuck up, you air hogging slab of meat,” Elias snapped, “I can say whatever the hell I want when I’m talking about parasitic tapeworms.”

“Well, that escalated quickly,” I stated.

“Indeed,” Bilal added, “It was also completely irrelevant to what we were talking about a few seconds ago.”

"Not like that our conversations ever made sense before," I pointed out matter of factly.

“But in all honesty, if you guys can’t find a way to keep score, I could just call the other guys to arrange for a game of soggy biscuit,” Elias suggested.

“What the hell is that?” Bilal asked.

“It’s when guys jack off onto a biscuit and whoever finishes last has to eat it,” I explained.

My friend visually cringed at that, “Okay then.”

“Hear that, Sam?” I nudged at him, “We’re going to have a round of Soggy Biscuit. Same deals apply for losers and winners.”

“Yo, fuck you guys,” Sam exasperated, “Always making the game harder for your own bullshitery.”

“Yeah, because it’s going to be way harder for Sam to win given how his balls are always empty from his fetish porn marathons,” Elias stated.

I didn’t know if I should laugh at that, given how true it probably was in the first place.

“Woah.” Bilal looked on, surprised at the escalation again.

“I know, right?” I filled.

“What were we talking about in the first place again?”

“Who cares man, it was totally crap either way,” I suggested, “You know what, let’s just forget about this for now, and negotiate later.”

“Fine,” said Elias, looking somewhat disappointed at the prospect of the game being cancelled, “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s play tanks or something,” I suggested, going to my laptop again.

"Why tanks?" Bilal questioned with annoyance.

"What, do you want to do math homework or something?" Elias pointed towards a stray math textbook on the floor, "It's got plenty of problems that needs solving, if you want to do that!"

"Actually, forget what I just said."

…

“Damnit Kevin, not again!” Elias cursed as he faced me from his computer screen. I looked up to meet his gaze with a chuckle.

Elias was calling for help, as the enemy Batchat made a pickett's charge for him. As the M103 driver, he was always in trouble in such the situation, mostly in the issue of weak side armour. I was slow in arriving, driving the Patton a distance across the map. I missed the full speed ram as he finished off Elias, causing me to overshoot the cliff and plummet to an explosive stop at the bottom. It was another fine day and example of myself as a dumbass in action...

Most importantly, it was the ultimate proof that no matter how dire the circumstances are, there’s always time to stop, pick up the computer and start to blow up some pixel tanks, or just to browse cancerous internet memes. What was going on around us was outright impossible in scientific terms, but that wasn’t a problem, as long as we had a computer at hand. Perhaps it was the perfect way to kill your focus and to help you calm down, in hindsight.

Sam looked over my shoulder, “Damn son, da fuck?”

“Don’t mind me, I’m just being myself...”

“That’s the good ol’ Kevin I know,” Sam gave a playful pat on my head, which I quickly steered away from, “Don’t you ever change.”

“Who said I was?” I replied curtly, “And please don't-”

The ringing of my phone brought me back to reality from my dissection of the game field. I brought out my phone, the caller ID causing me to shrink away inside my skin. It was from my parents, no doubt looking for me. The thing is, I didn’t have a proper plan for such the scenario, even with the extra time to decide on some course of action. I was still unsure on how the events would unfold for the next critical hours to come, even though I was convinced that this would all resolve out somehow. It left me staring unsure at the phone on what specific action to take, focusing intermediately between the screen's caller ID and the pizza boxes thrown on the floor. I still hesitantly answered it.

“Hello?”

“Where are you at?” it was my mom again, asking in that trademark voice of half concern and confidence, “Do you need your dad to pick you up?”

“No thanks, I’m at a friend’s,” I responded truthfully, “I’ll come home myself later.”

“Alright, just don’t come home too late!” I hung up at that.

“Who was that?”

“My parents.”

“You going now?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Elias piped up, “You mean that you don’t know what would happen if you went home?”

I nodded.

“I swear to god Kevin, you’re stubborn in all the wrong places…” he sighed, taking my computer and placing it away on the table nearby, “You’re not worried about yourself, yet you are all worried about your parents kicking you out for no good reason!”

“I can’t rule out the possibility,” I stated calmly, trying to maintain a cool look, “Nothing seems too far fetched at this rate.”

“They’re your parents, for Christ sake!” he snapped, “At the end of the day, they’re all you have when the world out there is unbearable. Don’t ever forget that.”

I gave him a look, unprepared for the sudden outburst. He shared the thought, knowing that he needed to push the hook further. I felt indifference, but still embraced it.

“Look, remember that murder thing that happened some time ago?” I nodded, “Good,” he continued, “Because that was the perfect example of who parents are. Even when their kid killed someone, he came to them for help when he was injured. His parents helped him get medical aid and escape, keeping quiet on the whole thing. Even when he was caught and the police questioned them, they weren’t persecuted for their actions, just because it was the instinctual action to take.”

“I know all of that,” I said, “It’s a gut and instinctual feeling against all you know.”

“Look, in the case that you do get kicked out, you can always stay here.” I lit up slightly at that statement.

“I thought your parents were against having people over due to space issues?”

“Exactly, and that’s how certain I am that your parents won’t kick you out,” he asserted, “Look, this isn’t a difficult choice, and you should stop trying to make it difficult. Avoiding the problem won’t solve it, and this isn’t going to be a difficult one.”

He was right. Regardless of how I could comprehend it, the end outcome was always that they were still my parents. The ones who unconditionally brought me into this world and paid the full price for it in bringing me to age. The only ones that told me at an early age that they were the only ones I could count on. Yet I still felt uneasy even with that overwhelming reassurance. I wanted to see the result, but I was trapped inbetween the result and actually trying to progress towards it. Deadlocked.

“No use fussing about this I guess,” I said more to myself that to anyone else, “Some form of closure is always the nice thing to do.”

“You’re incorrigible,” he sighed, “It won’t happen. It’s against nature’s instinct.”

“Of course.”

“Umm,” Bilal stammered off, “Kevin, if you want to do what Elias suggests, I strongly suggest you to act quickly.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Your ears.”

I felt at the side of my head towards this mention, not feeling anything. Well, I felt something, but it wasn’t what I expected. Instead of my ears, I felt a fine patch, something which I would presume to be fur. I think I already knew what was going on at this rate, locating what was presumed to be my ear, feeling like a soft, leather-like wedge of skin and muscle, with the ever trace amount of fur. Evidence together, the same probably happened to my other ear without a doubt, and that Elias probably had the same thing happen to him, too. Something told me that I should be freaking out once again, yet I was simply too desensitized to care anymore. The tail event had already proven the point.

“Jesus,” I mumbled, “This day just gets better and better, doesn’t it?”

“At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if you grew a horn and I just sprout wings,” Elias added with his intaken knowledge from the past few hours, “Because if we actually are turning into full ponies, I’d say we should let your parents know while they can still recognize you physically. Things will get a lot more difficult if you show up as a unicorn gal claiming to be their son.”

Regardless of my stance on not caring, the following still made me shudder in my skin, “I definitely can’t deny that possibility.” I pack up the computer back into my bag again, “I’m going to go now. Thanks for everything.” I stopped briefly and looked back, "Damn. Looks like I'm turning just like the guys from those shitty television dramas."

Elias completely ignored my previous statement as I got the bag ready once more, “I’ll go with you.”

It wasn’t long before Elias came back in his hoodie and jeans, with a ski mask forced over his head, covering most of his head, if not for the few strands of gold sticking out the corners. I was definitely impressed at his antics, managing to fit a ski mask over the head of hair that I had trouble with a summer cap. We’d normally be dying of laughter for doing something that dumb given a less stressful situation. He tossed up another one of his hoodies to me.

“You guys don’t need to come along,” I lied a moment too late, not wanting to drag my friends into this mess, “I think I could handle it myself at this rate.”

“Well, it’s too late for that now,” he said, buckling up his belt and shifting it into a more comfortable position, “I’m going to go with you considering I already have everything ready, and we share the same boat,” he pointed at the hoodie, “You should put that on. Give the suspicious area some cover, you know?”

“Right.”

“We’ll come with you, too.”

Elias glanced at Sam and Bilal, “You guys don’t need to come. We’re the ones in trouble, not you guys.”

“Exactly,” Bilal said, “We should just go to make sure that nothing bad happens.”

“Look, you guys don’t need to hitch yourself into trouble for something not related to your part,” Elias countered, giving them a look, “It’s not like that we’re drunk or anything. I won’t complain to you guys about this if I do get into shit.”

“You don’t have to be such a hardass El,” Sam asserted rationally, “It won’t sting if we just come along to make sure that no thugs would get out of hand.”

“Fine,” he sighed, admitting defeat, “Just follow me when I leave, alright? We don’t need to wake up the asshat again like earlier…”

“Of course.”

We followed the two into the elevator again, descending past the ground floor and into the parking garages. Luck was with us this time, given how we didn’t run into anyone on our way into the garage and our timely departure through one of the fire exits out to the back. I didn’t know how much longer our luck would hold out with the given course of events, but I didn’t care anymore. Logic has already thrown itself into the graveyard too deep for a recovery at this rate. I can only just try to hold the pieces right now.

Author's Note

~~Note 1: Special thanks to Vinyl-ScratchDJ17 for helping edit and pre-read, and Conflicting Views for the suggestions. They helped greatly in the quality improvement process of this story.~~ :twilightsmile:

~~Note 2: Even if I didn't reply to you, I am grateful for all that liked, faved, commented or followed.~~ :pinkiehappy:

~~(December 4, 2016: Finally edited this thing a bit, to make parts go smoother.)~~

~~Future chapter coming soon; this part was removed to make way for a smoother flow to the next part. Thank you for the patience~~ :twilightsmile:

May 7, 2017: After more than a year, I finally decided to work through this thing again.

June 12, 2017: Fixed to go in line with the edited Chapter 2.