WITNESS!
Dawn on a clear morning always managed to make Ponyville look downright artistic. The backlit buildings of the town were but a dark brown cutout against the fiery sky as the sun slowly crested the mountains in the background. Artists, already positioned on the edge of town, readied their easels to capture another moment on canvas that nopony would buy, only today something wasn't quite right. On the edge of a slanted roof, high above the main street, stood a shadow; a rough outline of a small pony. Raised forelegs held long projectiles aimed at an angle towards the sky, but not for long.
“WITNESS ME!”
The battle cry ended the calm of the early morning. Just as the pony pulling the carriage below traced the sound back to its source, a long way up and slightly behind her, the beast jumped off the roof, thrusting its weapons down, aiming them at the roof of the taxi.
“Aaaaah!”
The scream came from the taximare.
CRASH!
BUM!
BANG!
“OWWWWWWW!”
The wail came from the attacker.
One hour and plenty of apologizing to the surprisingly forgiving taximare later, Mrs. Mash was standing as still as a statue in the waiting room of the Ponyville Clinic, waiting for Button.
“There we go, Mrs. Mash, good as new! Well, apart from a few cosmetic issues, anyway,” the doctor happily announced as he lead Button out of the office to his waiting mother.
“The CMC are here, doc,” nurse Redheart interrupted from behind her desk and glanced at the back of the waiting room with an annoyed look. “Again.”
“Oh, what is it this time?”
There was genuine curiosity in the doctor’s voice, something that only tugged at the nurse’s nerves that little bit harder than everything she had already had to put up with. But the doctor knew she would never understand his undying thirst for discovering new medical conditions and remedies for them; a desire that could only be quenched here, in this small town full of monsters, magical mishaps and the CMC.
“They’re covered in slime and they say it’s arguing with them. Go figure.” Redheart leaned her head against her hoof to stop it hitting the table in despair as she could already imagine doctor Horses taking samples and calling her in for the rest of the cleanup. She hated Mondays. And Tuesdays. And every day that wasn’t a day off.
“Splendid!” The wide grin sealed the beginning of an excellent day of discovery and learning for one employee of the Ponyville Hospital, and of multiple showers and prayers to Celestia and Luna that that won’t stain the fur permanently for another.
The one thing missing from the picture was sound. Specifically, the voice of Mrs. Mash thanking the doctor and/or asking her colt if everything was okay and if he wanted some ice-cream. Any kind of motion to indicate said words would also have been welcome, yet neither Mrs. Mash nor Button moved an inch that whole time. Instead, a game of chicken had started the moment the colt came to a rest when the doctor was stopped by the nurse.
Who would blink first, the narrowed-eyed mare or the quizzical colt?
“Uhm, Mrs. Mash?” doctor Horses suddenly realized his patient’s mother hadn’t said a word yet. “Are you all right?”
“How much do we owe you?”
Both the doctor and the nurse cringed when the mare didn’t even look away from her son to ask that cold, hard question.
“It’s-”
“It’s quite all right,” Dr. Horses cut nurse Redheart off with a nervous smile. “No broken bones, nothing torn or twisted, no damages!” The chuckle at the end signified the double-entendre, but the mare he was trying to stop from piercing her own son with the power of her stare wouldn’t take him up on it.
“Thank you.” The whole waiting room breathed a sigh of relief as Mrs. Mash closed her eyes for a moment and gathered her thoughts. Even she wasn’t sure what there even was to think about, as there was really only one way to end this visit, whether she would have had to pay for the patch-up or not. “See you soon.”
Now the only thing left to do was to figure out how to remove chrome paint from a colt’s teeth without paying for the dentist, then getting all the war paint off his face, of course. There was no hope of toothpaste getting the chrome off, that was certain. Paint thinner? Or is that toxic? Maybe she’ll just have to take a hard brush soaked in vinegar and vigorously scrub it off. Could vinegar even do that?
The corners of her lips lifted ever so slightly at that thought. Did it really matter if it could?
A few unpleasant brushings later, both with vinegar and normal toothpaste, plus a quick visit to the town dentist to actually remove the chrome from Button’s teeth after all else had failed, and Button was almost ready for a late start to his school day. Even he couldn’t believe how prepared Colgate was to take him in over the patients that had been patiently waiting all morning, but the newly-appeared twitch in his mom’s eye probably had something to do with that. At least he would be spared the scolding until after he got home.
Button cringed. It wasn’t natural for ponies to look forward to school, it wasn’t! Now there was just the question of that war paint...
“So… You really liked that movie, huh?” Sweetie Belle asked to the background noise of suppressed giggles that permeated the classroom. The lack of large sections of fur on Button’s face may have had something to do with it.
Turns out you really shouldn’t use tar as replacement for grease when copying a movie scene, nor should you question your mother about that devilish smile on her face when she’s holding up a pair of scissors.
“I am awaited.” The response was a subdued, raspy whisper, though whether that was a result of absolute determination or the never-ending teeth scrubbing, nopony knew. All they knew was that sitting in the classroom with them was a scruffy colt with a thousand-yard stare, slouched over his desk, writing down who-knows-what.
Then again, they also knew it was Button and had heard over lunch break what had happened a few hours before, when Derpy delivered the daily dose of muffins to the school and just had to tell Cheerilee what she saw, so the mystique was almost entirely in Button’s mind. Almost.
“That. Was. AWESOME!” Snips shouted out every now and then, whenever he was reminded of Button’s little morning adventure by somepony else. Mostly Snails. The pair had found a hero not witnessed in Ponyville since the Great and Powerful One roamed the streets. Unfortunately, they hadn’t actually seen the movie, and were now making plans to remedy that so that they, too, might be inspired to great deeds of their own.
Step one was getting in the theatre now that every parent in Ponyville was sure to ban their kids from seeing it.
“You do know it’s just a movie, right?”
Sweetie’s voice struck Button like an arrow to the skull and impaled into his mind just as much. As she looked at him, she could see the classroom around him growing dark the moment he turned to face her, eyes narrowed in disgust, dark rings forming around them. His jaw dropped open ever so slowly before he found the words to bring the world to order. Sweetie Belle shrunk into her seat, as he menacingly answered, “Just-”
“Button!” Cheerilee’s voice cut through the air, instantly transforming the grim scene back into the boring old classroom it had always been. “Stop this nonsense right now, or I’ll have your mother here first thing after class.”
The brief moment of intended rebellion was drowned out when Button remembered what had happened the last time Cheerilee called his mom in. A greyish vision moved in ocean-like waves before his eyes, a vision of the hours of lost gameplay that were sacrificed to the gods of punishment for the remainder of that week. And even through the intangible greyness he could feel his Gamecolt calling out for him, alone and afraid, from the dark confines of the top of the closet in his parents’ room.
“NOOO!” He threw his hooves in the air. No, he would not let that happen again! Too bad Cheerilee didn’t know what the prolonged shout meant to convey.
“That does it!” Cheerilee stormed off, and no amount of incoherent blabbering or hoof waiving would convince her to not walk out the classroom.
As the door slammed shut, Button was left frozen in place, his left hoof a touch above his right, both lifted in the air, his mouth open at the last syllable he was about to yell out. His irises were the size of pinholes, yet there wasn’t too much panic in his eyes - it was far too late for that! – so he just sat there, unmoved by the snickering and hoof-pointing of his classmates, waiting for a plan to fall out of the sky to fix this for him.
Sweetie Belle waved her hoof in front of his face; nothing.
As he lay in bed later that day, Button was fidgeting, and the lack of video games in the afternoon was only part of the reason.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into your head this time, but you’re one missed school day away from being grounded!” his mom warned him before shutting the door to his room. She stopped briefly once the door was closed and sharply exhaled, as if that would release all the pent-up tension and cool the fury slowly brewing beneath her hardened, stoic demeanor.
Oh, who was she kidding?
She shook her head and headed for the kitchen. Button, meanwhile, was drowning in an avalanche of thoughts now that he had not only failed the mission, but was also on the verge of being caged-in, further limiting his chances of being carried to the gates of Valhalla.
OK, so he might have mistaken the taxi for the real target and Ponyville for Canterlot, but that was in the spur of the moment after he accidently inhaled that chrome spray. Nopony warned him that you’re not supposed to breathe while spraying it over your muzzle. There was going to be another chance; there had to be!
“It’s gonna be OK,” he quietly repeated to himself, clutching the bed sheet, before continuing in a more spirited manner, “This was just a practice run. A demo of the real thing. Yes, just like in games… I am awaited tomorrow!”
“Quiet up there!”
“Sorry mom!”
Sleep. All he needed to do was to go to sleep, and he could make this whole thing right. Nopony expects perfection on the first try, right? The gates of Valhalla weren’t locked yet. Heck, they weren’t even closed!
The sudden burst of optimism calmed Button down and guided him to sleep, although the heavy sleeping pills his mom had ground into his milk might have helped with that. Either way, it wasn’t long before he found himself in a chariot pulled by be-spiked, weaponized white ponies wearing a ton of makeup, more chariots of all shapes and sizes to his sides and the sound of a sick guitar riff echoing through the all-encompassing desert. A wicked grin crept to his face. He knew he was exactly where he had left off the night before; right in the middle of the hunt. Only one question remained: Had he been Witnessed?
He frantically looked around in all directions, searching for the dusty gray chariot carrying his destiny. And wouldn’t you know it, the chariot in question flew right past him and slowed down just enough for him to see the glowing eyes stare back into his soul.
The verdict came with a twitch of the head and an angry, distorted voice, “Ah. Mediocre!”
Immortana Luna looked away, gaze locked onto the horizon ahead, and disappeared into the distance. There were more warponies out there to do her bidding, she knew that, and it was high time to find them. A dark gash in the fabric of the dream world was all she needed to lead her convoy through, leaving Button in the darkness of a rapidly dissolving dream. He got the message once his own chariot dissolved beneath him.
“Uhm. I don’t think this is Valhalla.” The dark shell of a dream didn’t even give him an echo in response, but Luna couldn’t really be blamed for failing to provide him with an alternative scenario. She was on a mission, after all. “Hello?” Besides, what’s the worst that can happen if you leave a colt in complete darkness for the next seven hours?
Halfway across Ponyville, a young filly was sleeping through another standard-issue nightmare about not being able to fly when she suddenly stopped grimacing and turning in her sleep. This strange development was followed by something even more alien: Scootaloo relaxed, even letting go of the Rainbow Dash plushie she was so used to hugging every night to pretend somepony cared for her. Then a gentle smile formed on her lips.
The dark dreams had just become shiny and chrome.
