“...I got a feeling that it’s gonna be a wonderful day! Celestia’s sun has a smile on its face, and it's shining love and peace on the Equestrian race!”
“Stan, please don’t sing on the table while we’re having breakfast.” Stan looked around and realized that he was indeed singing on the table in the middle of breakfast for the third day in a row.
“Sorry honey,” Stan said as he climbed down and back into his chair, “It’s just that the Canterlot Intelligence Agency is having a talent show and I’m really excited to show them what I can do.”
Klaus climbed to the rim of his bowl to speak up, “You know its funny, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call the CIA by its full name before. It’s as if you said it just to provide exposition for someone.”
“Huh, yeah I guess that is weird Klaus, who is a Germane pony trapped in the body of a seapony migit.” Stan said, “Anyways, Klaus and I are going to sing a duet for the CIA talent show.”
“Shoo bee doo,” Klaus started singing.
“Shoo shoo bee doo,” Stan joined in and they both erupted into laughter. Stan whiped a tear from his eye when the laughter died down.
"Stan, how can Klaus be your partner in the talent show if he doesn't even work for the CIA?" Francine asked.
"It's cool," Klaus waved, "Test subjects technically count as employees, it should be fine."
“Stan!” Roger ran in with the talent show phamplet in his mouth, “I was going through your stuff looking for something to blackmail you into lending me 10 bits and I found this!” He spat the phamplet onto the table. “First prize is an all expenses payed shopping spree good for 20 bits, redeemable at any liquor store!"
“I know what the prize is Roger, who is an alien that I helped escape from the CIA and have been harboring for years.”
Everyone just gave Stan a blank stare. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.” Stan said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Must be the exposition bug the boys down at the lab have been working on."
“Stan we’ve got to enter the talent show together.” Roger pleaded, “I need my booze!”
“Sorry Roger, but I’m already entering the show with Klaus.” Stan leaned towards the sea pony and started singing, “Shoo bee doo,” but Klaus wasn’t joining in this time.
“What, we’re not doing it again?” Stan asked
“Meh,” Klaus replied, shrugging his shoulders
“Oh I know what’s going on,” Roger said, narrowing his eyes at Stan, “You don’t want to enter the show with me because you don’t think I’m talented. Well I’ll show you! I’ll show all of you!” Roger then ran out of the kitchen in tears. Everyone returned to their breakfast but Roger stuck his head through the door one more time. “I was hoping my act would sell it but I guess I’ll have to find...other means.”
“Well dad, I think it’s great that the CIA is interested in more than just killing ponies and destroying lives.”
“I am too Hayley,” Stan said with a chuckle, “hippie daugher that gets high more often than I'm comfortable with and is such a hippie that instead of a cutie mark she has a hippie mark.” Stan took another bite of his breakfast and took a moment to realize what he just said. “Dam it!” he yelled, slamming his hooves down on the table.
“Hey dad?” Steve asked.
“Yes Steve?” Stan replied. Steve waited a few moments to see if his dad would say anything about him until eventually he had to ask, “Don’t I get any exposition?”
“No,” Stan answered, not even looking up from his plate, “You’re not intersting enough.”
“Awe...” Steve sighed and bowed his head down in dissapointment.
“Well I think you’re super special, you’re my shmoopy whoopykins,” Francine said as she nuzzled her little Steve.
“Don’t encourage him.” Stan simply stated
“So where’s this talent show going to be anyways?” Klaus asked, “The CIA offices you work at don't exactly have a lot of space."
“Funny you should ask, it’s taking place at the CIA warehouse where we store things too dangerous for society,” Stan narrowed his eyes in contempt, “Warehouse 13.”
Stan trotted though the warehouse entrance with Klaus’s fishbowl on his back. Large crates had obviously been moved around to make room for a stage that’s been recently set up. Every crate was labeled with a different warning of doom if ever opened. They approached a crowd of CIA agents and workers.
"This is it Klaus, weeks of practice and preparation all leading up to this moment." Stan said. They where spotted and approach by another pair of ponies. It was agent Duper and at his side was Roger disguised as a warehouse worker.
"Agent Duper, my arch rival and all around better person." Stan said, "We meet again."
"Agent Smith, moron, incompetent, doormat. Ready to get walked on?" Duper replied.
"Yeah!" Roger jumped up and shouted. "We're gonna kick your asses!"
"Roger what're you doing here?" Stan asked, surprised to see his alien friend here. "You don't work for the CIA, you can't be here."
"Oh contrare, the name's Harrison Jones. Wait, or was it Pete Lattimar? Lattimer? Anyways, I threw your name around and told them I was your brother-in-law and really needed a job. They needed an extra hoof clearing room for the stage so I landed a temp job here. Oh you would not believe the stuff they just leave lying around. You know I found James Woods in one of the crates? He's...he's seen better days. Anyways. Woo! We're gonna kick your asses!"
"Good luck, you're gonna need it," Agent Duper said as the pair walked away.
Klaus went to the rim of hid bowl and pulled on Stan's black mane to reel in his attention. "Stan, we can't lose this. I have literally no self-esteem left, I need this man!"
"Don't worry Klaus, there's no way we're going to lose."
Stan and Klaus watched in awe at the finishing dance number and their jaws dropped to the floor when the fireworks went off.
"Well, we're gonna lose. Hey Klause, wanna go to Quiznos after? They got oven-baked bread." Stan said.
"Noo!" Klaus yelled, flippers flailing, "We have to win. My life needs meaning! We need to do better. We need an impromptu dance number to go with our song, yes! But no, we can't do a do dance if I'm a seapony. Stan I need you sneak me into the body swapping room and give me a normal pony body."
Stan opened his mouse to object but then Klaus cut him off to continue ranting. "Wait, no! If neither of us is a seapony then the song loses all meaning! Stan, there's only one option left. You have to turn yourself into a seapony."
"Klaus, I am not turning myself into a seapony just for a dance."
"But Stan, please! It'll just be for tonight and you then you can change back." Klaus pleaded
"I don't know," Stan said, "they're still pretty sore from the last time I snuck in there and used the swapper. I think I might really get in trouble if I do it again."
"Think about it Stan! What's more important? Your job or our friendship?"
Stan's eye widened with an epithany "Goddess, you're right! Our friendship is completely meaningless. I have to do everything in my power to preserve my job for the welfare of my family. If I lose this competition my boss might think less of me and my position in the CIA will be compromised. Klaus, I'll do it. Wait for me in the performance tank and I'll be back...with a fishy feeling."
"That...that was just terrible." said Klaus.
"Bah, what do you know?"
Klaus was nervously pacing back and forth in his tank. "Stan, where are you..." It had been over an hour and he still hasn't heard from Stan. He managed to delay as long as he could but there were only two contestants left and their turn was nearly up. Just then he heard something plop into the tank and down swam Stan.
"What'd you think?" Stan asked, "The boys down at the lab just happened to have a seapony migit that shared my magnificent chin and I jumped right in. Only downside is that I think I think I'm a mare."
"Mhm, yes you are, you sexy beast. You made it just in time. We're about to go on." Klaus said and pointed a fin towards the audience. He swam down to the bottom of the tank and grabbed two underwater microphones and threw one to Stan.
"Shoo bee doo," Stan started singing.
"Shoo shoo bee doo," Klaus joined in.
The two sang together with a passion. Stan had occasionally gone off key, not used to his new seapony voice and also unfamiliar with the effect singing underwater would have, though the impromptu dance more than made up for it. Stan had no idea how to dance as a seapony, but that didn't matter, his body knew exactly what to do. Klaus himself sang and danced like a fish possessed, enthralled by the female body his friend possessed and also disturbed by implications of having fantasies involving Stan rather than Francine.
When their act finished the entire crowd got up and cheered in a roaring applause. Stan and Klaus squeed and came in close for a hug. “They loved us!” Klaus cried.
“Yes they did Klaus,” Stan said.
“Mmhm, yes they did,” Klaus said sensually. Klaus held on to the hug for an uncomfortably long time and Stan was really getting creeped out.
A few minutes later Stan and Klaus were in their own separate fishbowls and waiting with the rest of the crowd for the winner to be announced. Deputy Director Bullock approached a pedestal with a stack of note cards in his mouth. The lights in the rest of the warehouse dimmed, highlighting the stage and the Deputy Director.
“Fillies and gentlecolts,” he started, “This year’s talent show has been a blast, you should all be proud of yourself. But in the end a winner must be chosen. The winner of this year’s talent show is...”
He dramatically paused and read the name on the card, “Who wrote these things, I can barely read the mouthwriting. The winner is Agent Duper and his partner...Harrison Pete Lattimer Jones?”
“Wooh!” Roger could be heard screaming from the back row.
“Or they would be the winners,” Bullock continued, “if not for the fact that they’re disqualified on account of Pete breaking the rules on not opening anything in the warehouse. The actual winners are Agent Smith and his partner Klaus Heissler!”
“Yes!” Klaus cheered, “Finally my life has meaning.”
“Wait, wait no,” Bullock said, “They’re also disqualified on account of neither seaponies or migits counting as ponies and technically can’t be in the CIA’s employ.
Bullock continued to list off name after name of winners followed by reasons of disqualification for some time. “I think I know what’s going on. It’s the Deputy Deputy Director, she must've entered the show this year,” Stan laughed, “I can’t believe I got worked up and turned myself into a seapony over nothing.”
Klaus just gave him a confused look. “You see the Deputy Deputy Director has a bit of an ego problem,” Stan explained, “She uses every dirty trick she knows to rig every competition she’s ever been in. It was impossible for any of us to win this whole time, can you believe it?"
Bullock had read the name of every agent there and given them a reason for disqualification and was now down to the last name, “... real, real, real, real, real winner is...Deputy Deputy Director Luna!”
At that a black cloud appeared and shot out bolts of lightning. It exploded outwards and in its place was the Deputy Deputy Director and Princess of the Night. “WE DO NOT REQUIRE YOUR PRAISE,” she shouted in her canterlock speech, “WE ALREADY KNOW THAT WE ARE BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY CONCEIVABLE WAY. THIS WAS SIMPLY A CONFIRMATION OF THAT FACT ON YOUR OWN BEHALF. I WILL TAKE MY LIQUOR STORE SHOPPING SPREE AND BE ON MY WAY.”
All Klause could do was just sigh. “Stan, I may not have won the talent show,” he said, “But I won something much better.”
“What that?” Stan asked.
“You.” Klause drew in Stan and gave him a passionate kiss and Stan, to his surprise, returned it. Klause wrapped his flippers around Stan and the world around him melted away. Right now the only thing that existed was this modent. Klaus looked into the eyes or his newfound love but he had transformed into a copy of himself, it hit him that it was just a reflection of himself in his fishbowl. He looked around and saw that he was back home and on the livingroom table. He sank down and groaned at the realization that it had all been just another fantasy.
Stan was sitting nearby in his recliner reading "The Hunt for Red October 2: October Hunts Back" to his glock 17. Klaus went to the rim of his bowl to talk to talk to him.
"Hey Stan," Klaus said in his most sincere voice. Stan acknowledged him with a grunt.
"So I was thinking," Klaus said while twiddleing his flippers, "Maybe you'd like to, I don't know, hang out sometime?"
"Nope." He simply answered.
"No, no, that's cool," Klaus fumbled, "I'll just chill in my bowl. All by my lonesome. Just...just all by myself."
Klaus just sighed one more time before slipping into another depression-induced fantasy
"Good morning Equestria!..."
