Micheal Salem, John's brother, in case you've forgotten, was doing what healthy Humans do; moving on. It had been a month since John had disappeared under mysterious circumstances, seemingly kidnapped by a woman who was not a woman at all, and not a man, either. There had been no fingerprints, no signs of struggle, the only clue a serpent painted in kerosene on the wall.

Mike didn't know who to believe. The police were wringing their hands, having dealt with situations like this before, Chief Rogers kept giving him the same reply when he visited the station: "We're still looking, Mike, and if we find something you'll be the first to know. John was a tough dude, if he's alive, he's doing well, and maybe he doesn't want to be found."

He could tell from the tone of the Chief's voice; she thought he was dead.

Sebastian said that he was 'very confident' that John lived and was doing well, but Mike wasn't inclined to believe Seb without evidence of any kind. Ariel, his wife, put it very politely when she said, "Sweetie, Sebastian is shell-shocked. His best buddy is missing, and I feel like he's the sort who's always going to be chasing ghosts."

It was maddening, though, knowing he was gone. Just like that, without a goodbye or a second glance. All Mike could do was throw himself into his work and his budding family; Ari was two weeks pregnant.

It broke Mike's heart, that his child would never get to see their uncle. He couldn't even remember their last conversation, hell, it could've been a fight, and now, no matter what anybody said, it felt like he'd never talk to or see his brother again.

In a deeper part of him, a part that even he wasn't aware of, he knew that John lived. Despite Sebastian's insistence, Mike knew his brother was in pain.

The day before Halloween, Lana, John's girlfriend, showed up at the home of the Salem's. She knocked timidly, half-hoping no-one would answer. Ariel answered the door, letting her in and offering her tea. Mike listened to her patiently, nursing his mug and feeling numb. He'd never felt that Lana was good for John, and now, he was gone, and she was moving on. She felt they'd been growing apart for months, she was moving back in with her parents. She'd never expected him to just up and disappear. She hoped he was okay.

John had complained of her being unfaithful, but then, he had stayed with her for so long, it was hard for him to say anything. He always said that it's better to stick with the hurt that you know.

Lana left, and Mike regretted not saying anything scathing to her on John's behalf. That was what he would have wanted.

. . .

I puffed weed smoke as I prayed to the machine gods. Then, closing my eyes and clenching my anus, I turned the holy key.

The gentle choir of farts that was the sound of La Etoille-Fille starting and idling was the sweetest music I had ever heard. The car had become my mistress these past few days, I'd been retooling her to run on alcohol; it was a multi-fuel engine, but there had been like, two pints of gas sent with, apparently kerosene meant to be enough to rendesvouz with the supply chain. I'd had to filter a bunch of my vodka and mix it with axle grease from the hardware store to get a viable fuel going.

I'd have to stop there, later, I needed some more parts for my baby, and I needed some mud to fix the hole in my wall. I had spent about twenty thousand gil at the local hardware store in the past month, and I planned on spending more. Money was laughably easy to earn in this country as an alien. It was a heaven of sorts, here in Equestria, nobody ever asked for any kind of registrations or permits, just gold up front, thanks for your time. There was like, one cop in town, and when she saw me carting my home-brewed alcohol and dime-bags of "tea," she'd tip her fucking hat to me, I shit you not. Customers weren't hard to find, we'll leave it at that.

So needless to say, money was no longer an object for me, if it had been in the first place. I was glad to spend some cranking the shit out of my interplanetary cousin's toys. I let the engine run a few minutes, getting out and checking the exhaust. I was glad that the new mix seemed to be burning clean, it had initially been dark blue-black from too much grease. I needed to preserve the parts that I had because it was likely we wouldn't be able to resupply, at least until we got back to Earth. What I had initially taken for a V8 was something more like a V7, I could only count seven cylinders, but it ran at a constant buzz of perfected out-of-the-box efficiency. I had jitneyed a supercharger with a barn fan and chimney piping, but the suck thing about that was it was robbing horsepower. I was hoping they would have something I could rig a turbo out of.

The vehicle was shiny brushed aluminum, the smooth paneling of the shipping drone re-purposed into rounded armor plating. There were bench seats in the front and back, which were some sort of padded plastic, but I planned on reupholstering them with something. The cheapo IKEA buggy that it was, it initially hadn't had interior paneling, but I'd sawed some nice hardwood boards and slipped them over the controls. It felt a bit like a clown car; in the driver seat, which was on the right, my head brushed the ceiling, and in the back seats I had to bend over to sit comfortably.

I checked my watch, it was still early in the morning. I had again failed to get any actual sleep for several days. I was starting to feel like I didn't need it. I needed more coffee, though, my poor machine had been doing overtime. I quickly went inside to jot down a list, calling to my drake and feeding her a note to Twilight asking her if she wanted to grab breakfast or some coffee. I had errands to run in town today, and I tried to get everything done in one trip. I hated Ponyville with an odd, directionless rage that actually concerned me, yet I felt drawn to the town, as if all of the rest of Eden were a vacuous void that I dared not explore. Canterlot had been worse, yet.

"Scar, sweetie, you wanna go in the car?" Scarlet, my little wyvern companion for her entire life, was hard to categorize. Her presence in my house was officially that of a glorified scribe, supposedly she would quickly learn to read and write and be able to send letters directly. In practice so far, it had been more like somebody had dropped a toddler who had been raised by dogs in my lap. She'd been able to run and glide within minutes of her hatching, and had fire-breath that, unlike Spike's, was apparently of both magical and natural origin due to her being both a wyvern and a letterdrake. Which meant that her pyromaniacal tendencies were actually of true threat to me. Despite this, she was my constant companion, mostly out of the fact that if I let her out of my sight, important things would soon become so much ash in the wind.

She leapt into the vehicle, and together, we were off to town.

First stop was Miss Shy. I buzzed down the rough path through the woods, feeling free. Fluttershy was my neighbor, for all intents and purposes; she only lived a few minutes away by flight to her and by car to me. These past few days I'd been hitting her up early in the mornings to wake and bake. The sun was just peeking it's head over the horizon when I knocked on her door, calling in, "Open up, it's the police! Grab your bong!"

She answered the door, wearing a pink nightgown and giggling sleepily, "Tee-hee, bong."

I packed a bowl while she went out to check on her chickens. We had gotten into the habit of wake-and-baking these past few days; that combination of insomnia and early-birdedness that occurs so beautifully in nature. She came back with a basket of eggs in her teeth. I took a long hit to prepare myself for the next question, "How did you pick those up?"

"Just, you know, with my hooves." To demonstrate this, she opened her cupboard and pulled out a pan, setting it on the stove and cracking an egg into it with her hooves. I watched in disgusted awe, and then helped myself to another hit before passing. I started some toast while Fluttershy took a short rip as it rolled, clearing her throat gently.

"So, what're you up to today?" I asked conversationally, trying to change the subject. I took another hit, feeding the cherry and passing back.

Fluttershy answered in the middle of her hit, covering to mouth of the bong and speaking through smoke, "Oh, you know, just gonna hide in my house all day. Avoid Nightmare-Nighters."

"Oh, shit, it's Halloween today! Good thing I'm going to town. Wait, did you say, 'hide in the house all day'?

"Yeah, I don't really care for Nightmare Night. I've got a lot of traumatic memories of ponies pulling pranks on me as a foal, and Rainbow Dash still thinks it's funny."

"Oh, pranks," I said, reminiscing about childhood. I sighed, exhaling smoke and wishing I hadn't left my flask in the car. "I mean, nothing wrong with a little practical joke every once in a while, and Halloween is the time to do it, right?"

She made a face like she didn't wanna get into it. "Rainbow takes it too far, sometimes."

There was a pause in the conversation as she passed the bong back to me, and I hit it. She checked her eggs, flipping them and asking me, "Did you want an egg?"

"Yeah, I mean, if you're makin' em." She gave her plate to me and started two more. The toaster scared the fuck out of me as it spat out two pieces of charred bread, and I remembered I'd been making toast "Would you want some toast?

"Yes, please," she said politely. I started some more, buttering mine and biting into it. An odd thought popped into my head, as they do when I blaze, and I decided to voice it.

"Fluttershy?" I said, swallowing my bite of toast. She turned to me, and before she could respond, I said, "Thanks for being my friend."

She blushed and giggled again, and the sound was like butterflies having an orgy. "You're very welcome, John. Thanks for coming to visit so often. I get a little lonely out here on the edge of the forest."

Glad that part of the conversation was over, I leapt on the new topic. "Why do you live out here?"

"Well, part of it's for my job, I'm the Fog Liaison for Canterlot Weather, I'm supposed to monitor low-atmosphere cloud activity coming from the forest. Most of the time it's pretty quiet, but occasionally something will come up. I've got all my animals, too, and I've found they're better off away from town. Angel gets into shenanigans."

"Well, we all hate shenanigans." I also hated that fucking rabbit. I was hoping to "accidentally" run into him in the woods so I could use him for pie filling. He was just a little guy, though, wouldn't make a very good pie. Maybe he'd be better for a stew. I changed the subject, "Speaking of animals, I've been meaning to ask, could I get some chicks from you? I've been meaning to start a henhouse."

I neglected to mention that I would likely be eating these chicks eventually. She nodded absentmindedly, "I'll put some of these in the incubator later."

I looked at the eggs on my plate. "Wait, so you're telling me these are fertilized? You're just totally fine with eating a potential baby chick?"

She looked at me, and then at the eggs in the pan. "Well, if you're gonna feel bad about that, then you might as well feel bad about all the sperm that everypony wastes, or the flowers and the grass."

"I love how your mind immediately leaps to sperm."

She winked luridly at me, purring, "Mare's gotta eat."

I coughed through my toast, choking on my laughter, "I can't believe you just said that, that's fucking disqusting,"

Flutters was like that, quiet, up until the moment she said something that made the room erupt with laughter. There was an easy companionship to her that even a washed-up, wrecked piece of shit like me could appreciate. She could be friends with a rock, in fact, it wouldn't surprise me a bit if she was. She often joked about sex, as one's aunty or raunchy grandma would.

Unfortunately, this reminded me of another unfortunate detail that was unfortunately sinking in over these past weeks; On a planet where drugs are scarce and virtually unheard of, alcohol is abolished and practiced only in private, there is only the erotic arts to entertain. Despite the abundance of pornography around my cabin, I wasn't attracted to ponies. I had purchased it on principle, and now I mostly read the articles, after failing to find the pictures titilating. For some reason, the ponies in the porn were covered up most of the time anyway.

I regretted leaving my flask in the car. I regretted everything, from the moment I arrived in Equestria, to the moment I entered the Canterlot Vessel. I regretted being born and existing. I just wanted the nightmare to end. "John, I really wish you would see a professional about this," said the voice in my head.

I'm serious. These are unbecoming thoughts of the future ruler of mankind. In addition, I'm extremely sick of hearing your whiny bullshit. This isn't exactly a picnic for me, either, "Uhhh, My name Is John and I'm so sad that I'm stuck in this immortal blonde baby hunk body forever, and on top of it all, I'm possessed by a ghost that forces me to be productive, it's not like she's stuck being a bodyless shadow and having to deal with my whiny baby bullshit, wah, wah."

Yeah, thanks, have fun with nonexistence. I tried to focus on what was in front of me rather than my current existential crisis, as one does. Scarlet returned from the woods, and Fluttershy gasped when she found the baby wyvern had a frog in her throat, literally. "Flugguhshuh, I ghaught a fghog!"

"Spit him out, sweetie." I said sternly, and she did, the amphibian seeming shaken but none the worse for wear. Fluttershy adored Scarlet, obviously, but I tried not to let her eat stuff alive in front of her just out of politeness. I took him outside and tossed him in the pond, telling him, "You're a lucky motherfucker, today."

Scar wanted an egg, too, since I took her frog.

"Don't cook it," she demanded. She was such a perfect little bitchy angel.

"Can you catch?" I asked, and found to my delight that she could; I tossed her a raw egg and she snapped it up, shell and all. She was still growing, but seemed to be slowing down, entering what Fireheart had called the "nymph" stage of draconic development. She would stay about the size of a little dog for a few decades, "Storing magic in her magic fat until she reaches adolescence."

Fucking word-for-word, what he said.

The sun hadn't risen very far when we got ready to leave. I "forgot" a couple ten-bit coins on Flutters' counter for her trouble, and told her I'd come by in a few days with some schwag. "Are you going to Rarity's party?"

"I might make an appearance," she said mysteriously, in a way that meant she'd definitely be there.

I grinned as I started my car and sped away from the cottage. My smile faded as I got further down the trail, remembering that I was headed to Ponyville, a fact that killed my buzz for obvious reasons. Now I have to deal with people.

. . .

Wingnut enjoyed his job at Ponyville Hardware. It was quiet, most of the time, and he wasn't working with food, except animal and dragon food, mostly. There were some candy bars at the front.

The counter was by the door, and ponies had to pass it to come into the store. There wasn't enough traffic that it was ever busy, and customers would often stop to talk to him. That was the most exhausting part of the job. His boss and no relation, Lugnut, would occasionally wheel out of his office in his chair to bark instructions at him. He had only been working there for a week, but it seem there only needed to be two or three workers on shift at a time.

Which made it all the stranger when an odd, ponyless vehicle came buzzing down the street, gently avoiding pedestrians and parking itself in a carriage spot, and an odd, beige creature stepped out on two legs, followed by a paraplegic dragon. Naturally, Lugnut wheeled out on his chair, droning at him, "Wing, this guy's spent twenty thousand bits here in the past month, if he says jump, you better leap, you feel me?"

"Yeah, I feel ya." Wingnut replied, not making eye contact due to staring at the creature. It looked a bit like a minotaur, standing upright on two legs and walking with a swinging gait. It had an odd, flat face, with a snubbed, fleshy nose.

Wingnut watched as the creature loped into the store, pushing the door open with its upper appendage. It had a cigarette in it's mouth, trailing smoke, and it' face was framed by a light hay-colored mane. The dragon darted through it's legs.

"Go pick something out," it said, speaking to the dragon.

"Hello, welcome to Ponyville Hardware!" Wingnut, said, automatically, as he was supposed to. The creature grunted at him, breezing past the counter and grabbing a cart. He headed toward gardening supplies, but soon returned, holding one of their heavy-duty shovels in one paw.

It hefted it, asking, "Is this the biggest shovel you got?"

Despite the creatures alien appearance, it had a strong Marennesota drawl, drawing out it's "o" sounds and shortening consonants. The combination was rather comical, and Wing tried not to laugh, instead smiling and saying, "Sorry, that's the biggest one we have."

The creature grunted again, tossing the shovel in it's cart anyway. It picked up a few more gardening supplies, moving on to Piping, and then into Livestock. Again, he questioned Wing, "Hey, do these chicken coops come all assembled like this?"

"Nah, they come in a box and we put 'em together in the back."

"I'll need one of those, then."

"Sure thing."

The creature grabbed supplies for barn fowl, and stuffed a bag of granulated gemstones underneath his cart, finally moving into Heating and Furnace. He approached the counter with another question, more complicated this time. "So, here's the thing, I'm trying to make a turbocharger, do you know what that is?"

Wingnut shook his head.

"Okay, well, my car out there has an exhaust system, and that system isn't under any pressure right now, because all I have is a supercharger on it. I'm trying to cap something on the end of it that will pull the exhaust through faster, you know, make a seal on there, and pressurize it so it takes the weight off the super." He held up a turbo unit, one of the smaller ones that they used in really long stove and furnace pipes. "I think this is what I need, but I need to take it down to nine millimeters, and I don't see any adapters."

Wingnut knew there was a kit over in piping, so he ran and got it. He had done a lot of furnace units with his dad, and had used it before, though not for this, obviously. "That would be what you need, there's sets for six down up to twelve."

"Thanks, dude." He inspected the kit and threw it in his cart, wheeling up to the counter.

"Yeah, no problem." Wingnut started ringing him up. He had a lot of stuff, the bill climbing up past five hundred bits, and nearing nine hundred after adding the chicken coop and the granulated gemstones. He had gotten sticks for welding, metal piping, and wide plastic tubes. There was paint mixed in, along with rolling brushes and clear coat. There was plant food, rubber hoses, and garden twine as well. Trying to make small talk, Wing asked, "Planning a big project?"

"Trust me, you don't even want to know." The creature set a hefty bag of coins on the counter and began to count platinum fifty-bits. "I should be in the computer, John, J-O-H-N,"

The little dragonet brought a pack of Rocket Shots up to the counter, a dragon treat that was basically a candied firework, and Wing scanned it along with the rest. He was about to make change, but the creature shook it's odd, round head, eyeing Wing's nametag. "Keep it. Are you new here?"

"Yeah, I started last week."

"Oh, that explains it. The creature named John took his receipt, politely bidding farewell, and resolutely going about the business of stuffing his cart and a half's worth of purchases into the trunk of his ponyless carriage. To Wing's surprise, it all seemed to fit, the boxed chicken coop fitting neatly into the backseat.

The odd pair sped away downtown to the rhythmic buzz of the craft's engine. Lugnut wheeled out of his office again, asking curiously, "How much did he get?"

Wingnut looked at the store receipt. "Nine hundred eighty-six bits."

"He must be slowing down, that's his smallest bill, yet."

"Really? What is he?" Wingnut filed the receipt and closed the register.

Lugnut wheeled back into his office, stopping in the doorway. "I think they call him a Human. There was an announcement like a month ago about it, the Princess was involved."

"Huh. Seems like a decent enough guy."

"Yeah, a little weird-looking for sure, but hey, I don't judge."

. . .

"Man, I hate fucking bits. I feel like I'm paying for everything with Chuck E. Cheese tokens." My wyvern and I drove away from the hardware store with our purchased booty. The light vehicle handled differently loaded; I was hoping to finish our errands and unload soon, so I could unwind with a nice Long Island iced tea before I had to go to Rarity's party and deal with people.

Scar stopped licking her firework candy, the sweet fizzling and popping loudly over her question, "What's Chuck E. Cheese?"

"It's like a carnival, I guess, but it's like, in a store. You can have, like, birthday parties and bar mitzvahs there. You play games, get pizza stuff, like that."

"Oh. Well, that sounds pretty cool. Could you light stuff on fire?" Scarlet often told me that her favorite dreams were the ones where the whole world was aflame. She could be a bit one-dimensional at times, but maybe it's my fault for humoring her.

"Depends on what. The staff might frown on certain things going up in flame. You could probably get away with birthday candles."

"Huh," She was about to ask another question, but interrupted herself by belching a tongue of flame and a small note.

"That'd be Twi. Can you read it, or do you need my help?" I was still driving, but she was still learning how to read, so there you go. Having the only car in town was fun because there was very little traffic but the occasional pony-drawn carriage; it was annoying because I constantly had to weave around pedestrians at four miles an hour.

"Naw, I know all these words: She said she's down for tea."

"Cool. Where at?"

"Hay Barn again. That girl is not adventurous."

"No, she is not. Then again, neither am I." I had actually suspected this, and we were halfway there already. I stuck a joint in my lip and leaned over to the passenger side. "Can you light me without setting my beard on fire?"

Apparently not. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of my own burning hair, inhaling and passing.

"Sorry, dude. Still trying to perfect the technique." Scarlet pinched the joint between her wing claws from where she sat with her tail tucked beneath her, puffing on it daintily before passing back. She never coughed: she was a dragon, after all.

By the time we finished the joint, we were at the Hay Barn. I flicked the roach into the bushes, grateful Sparks had chosen this location; I had business here, as well. At night, the Hay Barn became the Bannered Mare, one of John's Finest Ales and Spirits most profitable retail locations. Scotch had conned his brother Cole into turning the nightclub into a speakeasy at my insistence, and their brother Lyp had followed soon after. My fast and easy wealth had come from a simple business practice of creating a market where there was none.

I went into the office and woke up Scotch, passed out on the couch, getting him to fill out order forms the best I could. He blathered blearily at me about lasses and nannies, and once I got what I needed, I left him to his drunken nap. Sometimes I felt bad for taking advantage of him, and by extension his brothers and much of the town for monetary gain, but I spent a shit ton of my profits at the hardware store anyway.

I had all of the equipment we needed to contact Earth. We were just waiting for the quantum isotope to decay. I had been waiting a day and a half already and there were still a few hours left. I was hoping we could get it done before I had to go to Rarity's party.

Twi showed up exactly on time, as usual, dragon in tow. It was a sense of scholarly duty that drove us together; She was trying to learn about Earth. I had just been telling her stories about my life, mundane stuff about society on Earth. I answered her questions the best I could, but I wasn't an expert on anything, by any means.

We sat at a table and I ordered my second breakfast for the day, making small talk with Twi. She gossiped about our mutual friend group often, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie. Rainbow Dash and Applejack were less familiar to me, I had only met them once or twice. They were often busy, which was a shame, because as cool as the girls were, it felt odd to not have any dude friends who weren't also business partners.

It boggled me that Twilight had been given "Friendship" as a subject of study by the Princess. It also boggled me that it was a matter of official government importance that the Princess have personal students that she instruct on lessons in profoundly hypothetical subjects. The juxtaposition of me being assigned with the subject of "Human History," when I was likely more knowledgeable than her in the subject, was asinine to me. It had to be just an excuse for something. Then again, she didn't know about my know-it-all passenger yet.

During a lull in the conversation, I brought up something that was a little difficult to segue into: The state of my decaying mental health. "So, Sparks, I've been meaning to ask you, do you know any good shrinks around here?"

"Shrinks?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

"Uh, like a psychiatrists? Head doctor?" I wondered if somehow Equestria had somehow evolved past the need for such things.

"Oh, a psychiatrist! Yeah, Doctor Ball down at Ponyville General is a good friend of mine. That's who I recommended to Pinkie when she was having her, uh... episode."

"Doctor Ball?" I choked back a snicker.

"Yeah, we're in book club together. She had a bit of a strange opinion on Old Mare and the Sea, but she did a good job with Pinkie, and she's always given me good advice." She sipped her tea, dabbing a chunk of her muffin in it and swallowing it.

"Oh, well, thanks." I poured vodka from my flask into my orange juice. It was a bit early still, but it was Halloween, damn it.

"Is everything alright?" She eyed me quizzically.

"Yeah, I've just been... thinking about stuff a lot lately."

"Well, I'm glad that you're getting help. You can always talk to me, too, if you need it." She told me with genuine relief, putting away her notebook and pen. I finished my hash browns and eggs, and Twi finished her muffin. Our infant drakes clawed at each other under the table, whispering secrets.

"Thanks, Twi." She hugged me when I left. I asked if she could take care of Scarlet for an hour or two, and she agreed. I'd pick her up at the library after I went and got my head fixed. Apparently the local hospital not only had a psychiatrist, but one that did walk-ins. Go figure. Explains the mental health of the local populace.

I'm proud of you, John

Like you're not part of the problem, I was beginning to appreciate your silence. I drove alone down to Ponyville General Hospital. The radio in the buggy worked, and picked up local channels, but it turns out that I don't really like pony music. I was still waiting for the verdict from Vinyl on the jack for my phone. She said she could order one, but it might take a few weeks, which was really harshing my buzz, but that's life. I should be thankful that I didn't nee to make one.

When I walked into the lobby, I winced when I saw who was behind the front desk: Nurse Redheart. I hadn't seen her since I had hugged her goodbye at Twilight's almost three weeks ago. I had been doing my best to block the memory out, and here it was, fresh and center stage. She was looking at a chart, and hadn't noticed me, yet. I dreaded every step to the counter.

"Hey, Red," I said, trying to act casual.

She turned at my voice, and to my surprise, she turned back to her chart. "Oh, hey, John. Can I help you?"

I shook it off, not looking a gift horse in the mouth, pun intended. If she wanted to forget about the little incident at the edge of the woods, I would too. "I'm trying to set up a walk-in with Doctor Ball?"

She set the chart down, and checked a clipboard hanging from the wall. "She's on lunch until twelve-thirty."

It was, like, a quarter-after; I could wait. I went outside and smoked a joint, and hey-ho, when I went back inside, Red was on the phone with the good Doctor. "Yes, John the Human. Yes, the Human. Okay, I'll send him up."

She put the phone down on the receiver, smiling cordially at me. "Head upstairs and down the hall on your left, she'll be by Waiting Room A,"

I went upstairs and to the left, stopping beneath the Waiting Room A sign. Picking a seat and picking up a magazine, I waited. I had just barely opened to an article about gluten-free hay when one of the several doors entering into the waiting room opened. A grey pony in pink scrubs held the door open with a hoof. She focused a pair of rose colored eyes on me through golden-rimmed half-moon glasses. Her mane was rolled into tight, purple dreadlocks that were pulled into a ponytail. Her tail was also dreadlocked, but hung free.

"John?" She asked rhetorically, considering I was the only being in the room. I stood and followed her silently though another hallway and into her office. To my surprise, there was no desk. Instead, there were two thick blue mats on the floor. "Would you like to take your jacket off?"

I did, and because it felt appropriate, I took my boots and socks off, too. The room felt very relaxing, there were wide glass windows illuminating the office with gentle, natural light from outside. The walls were a gentle blue, matching the sky. She sat on one of the mats and gestured at the other with a hoof. I sat obediently, crossing my legs. She held out a hoof for me to shake with a natural motion that for once I didn't question, and introduced herself: "I'm Doctor Ball."

"Hi, I'm John Salem."

"So I've heard. I'd just like to say it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"Oh, well, thanks."

"So, what brings you to my office, today?"

To me, the answer encompassed many subjects, so I was forced to be vague. "I've been under a lot of stress, lately."

She nodded her head, like she understood completely. "Well, why don't you lie down and talk to me about it?"

I laid my body down on the comfy blue mat, and thought about where to start. To my surprise, the cieling of the room was painted with a pretty pointilist mural of a tranquil ocean scene. I supposed the beginning was a good place to start.

"Thirty-seven days ago, I was getting drunk one night in Madison, when a freaky chick who I'm no longer convinced was another human being starting making out with me in the supply closet at the bar. I blacked out after that, and I don't think it was the alcohol. Whoever, or whatever she was, she transported me from my home planet, to here, where everything resembles a children's cartoon, and not even one I particularly enjoyed. I know she did this for a reason, a reason that is probably not a positive one on the whole.

"I hate being wrapped up in nefarious plots, and I hate being stranded on an alien planet even more, but I have to admit, it isn't terrible living here. On Earth I had to struggle to survive among my own kind, never finding sympathy even from fellow humans. Here, it doesn't seem to matter who or what I am, there's enough to go around. I don't have anything to complain about as far as comfort goes." You can tell her about me. Gee, thanks for justifying this visit with your presence. Again, I'm serious. As hilarious as your insults are, I am not a figment of your imagination. You share your skull with another sentient life form. Anyone treating you medically should be aware of this, and I am neither qualified nor willing to treat the acute issue that you have.

"I learned about and subsequently explored an ancient human ruin, which was a little traumatizing in and of itself. When I got to the final chamber, I was possessed by an ancient human ghost, who still talks to me in my head and takes over my body at night. That's kinda important." Doctor Ball seemed to be taking this all in stride, simply nodding and expressing sympathy.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, John. I can imagine how that could be very stressful."

"That's not the worst part, honestly. The voice in my head is annoying, but I'm beginning to acclimate. More than anything, I miss Earth and my family. I didn't want to get mixed up in all of this nonsense, and I'm still not sure if I'll be able to get back. I might be stranded here forever, fighting monsters and living in the woods. It's taken us a month just to be able to send a message to tell them that I'm okay, and that was through what I would call a pretty lucky break. I'm gonna have to get a lot luckier if I'm gonna get home."

"Honestly, John, I believe that we make our own luck. I believe that you've gotten this far because you've worked for it. Correct me if I'm wrong, of course, but you seem like the sort of guy who does what he has to. When you see something you want, you take it, and when you see something you need, you get it. That's why you're in my office." We were both still laying down, not making eye contact, but the way she said it struck me.

She was right. As much as I hated to admit it, that's why I was here. I wanted to make it home, in one piece. I had to take care of myself before I try to go back to save Earth and my people from themselves. I couldn't think of anything else to say about that, so I changed the subject.

"My parents died when I was nineteen. It'll be ten years on my next birthday. I think I'm still fucked up about it."

I heard her sigh. "That sucks. I guess when I think about the people who have passed on in my life, they would have wanted me to try to remember the good times, and to try not to miss them too much. I feel ya, though, that's one of those things that is really hard to quantify, and move on from."

"I got into some nasty shit about that, too. They were murdered by a suicide cult. I was trying to take them down and I ran into an international espionage extraordinaire. " The words were beginning to flow easily, it felt as if a significant burden were being lifted from my spirit. "That got me into some even more nasty shit afterward. To put it in simple terms, my past is filled with a lot of sordid events, not to mention blood and death, more than most people are accustomed to. I've killed a lot of people. I've tried to shelter Mike and Ari from the worst of it, but I'm worried that I didn't do enough, that I'll get back to Earth and they'll both be dead."

"Well, we do what we have to do. We all have the instinct to survive and protect the things we care about, even if we do things we regret in the process." The tone of Doctor Ball's voice didn't change, remaining the same level, calm timbre it had been. Either she had dealt with this sort of thing before, or it was some kind of professional or trained thing, but either way, it was working. "As far and your family, Mike and Ari are a world away from you, now. You said that you can get a message to them, I would focus on that."

Again, very sound advice. I looked at my watch. It had been about thirty-five minutes.

"Getting antsy?" she asked. I looked at her face. Her eyes were closed.

"My dragon's at a friend's house. She like to light stuff on fire, and books are quite flammable"

"That's right, you're one of Princess Celestia's students. I'm guessing your friend is Twilight Sparkle, correct? She has quite a reputation around here, as well."

"Yeah, so I've been learning. I kinda wanted to talk to her about his stuff, but for some reason I felt it was out of her scope."

"Your friends will listen to you complain , John, but they won't be able to solve your problems, because they have their own to deal with. Believe it or not, it's my job to help you with this stuff."

"Honestly, I'm glad I came."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I have one more thing that I've been having trouble with. It's a little embarassing."

"Shoot."

"I'm not attracted to ponies. A lot of them seem to be attracted to me."

"I'm not attracted to colts. A lot of them seem to be attracted to me. You're a big boy, right? Tell them, "No.""

I was silent for a moment. The hardest thing that I had to admit slithered from my lips like a poisonous slug. "I hate it here. I just want to die, and give up. It's so hard to keep going as things are."

Doctor Ball leaned up slowly to a sit, and I followed suit. Her rose eyes looked into mine. "Think about your parents, and your family, when thoughts like that creep in. Your mind is like a garden, and your thoughts are like plants. When you think a thought, you're watering it. Water the good thoughts, John. Water the thoughts of going home. Water the thoughts of your family, and your life. I think you can make it, John."

I looked out the window, and I couldn't help the watering in my eyes.

I owed it to the people that I cared about, alive and dead, to finish this, whether I started it or not.

"Thanks, Doc."

She held out her hoof for me to shake again. "I hope you come back, John. They can set up an appointment for you at the front desk."

I left the office and did exactly that, having Nurse Redheart sign me up for an appointment next week. On the way to the library, as I weaved through pedestrians, I pondered what Doctor Ball said. Scarlet answered the front door, expecting me, an autumn leaf hot-glued to the point of her snout. "Hey, John, guess what I am?"

"Bat, leaf-nosed." Scarlet giggled at my correct guess, I had only known because I had done a similar costume as a child, real leaf included.Twilight was dressed as some sort of wizard, putting the finishing touches on her outfit, and apparently not expecting to know exactly who she was. I noticed Spike's costume and realized why Scar had changed hers: He was dressed as a purple dragon; she had been planning on going to the festival as a black wyvern.

I told Twi I'd see her at Rarity's later, telling Scar in a whisper, "I like your costume better. It's more elegant."

"What're you talking about? Bats are cool. Going as myself would be kinda dumb."

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying, I feel ya."

Speaking of Rarity, we hit her up before heading back to the cabin. I still needed to pick up my costume. She was dressed in a lacy outfit with foam butterflies sewn to the sash. Supposedly, she was a fairy. She displayed my commissioned costume to me proudly.

"You're going to be attending Rarity's super Sp00ky Nightmare Night Bash as the Monkey King from Journey to the West." She said dramatically, gesturing to the folded costume on the table: A red coat with tails and gold buttons, and a pair of fluffy pantaloons with a fake tail coming out the back. To complete the ensemble, there was a fluffy brown hat with big, fake chimp ears coming out, and a crooked bamboo cane.

"The Monkey King? Isn't that a little racist?" I suppressed a smile, picking it up and trying it on anyway.

Rarity gave me a level look. "I can tell you're joking, but it's not funny how many costumes I've had to re-do today. I had to come up with something that matched, and you're a dead ringer for the King."

"Matched? Who am I matching with?" This was news to me.

Rarity eyed me quizzically. "You're matching the Princess, appropriately. She's your plus-one, right? I thought you knew about that."

"I guess I know, now." Of course. I looked the outfit over, and appreciated the effect. The spark of Halloween spirit that had been smoldering in my chest since last night flared. "I love it, Rares. I think I'll wear it out."

She nodded, ushering me out politely. She had to prepare to host one of the biggest shindigs of the season, of course. "When you return for the party, could you possibly bring some refreshments? You know, your stuff?"

"Weed or booze? Both?"

"Of course, darling. See you at six!" Well, okay. I tossed my jacket, shirt, and pants into the backseat with all of our newly-purchased equipment. My Monkey King costume was not only well-made and gorgeous, it was also extremely comfortable.

We finally left town at about one o'clock, driving past Fluttershy's house back to our cabin in the woods, taking our time in the gentle afternoon breeze. Even in the depth of autumn, the air was still a gentle sixty-eight degrees, and apparently it wouldn't get much colder, even in the winter. Despite this, the leaves were turning autumn colors.

It's induced behavior, John. The days will shorten and the nights will lengthen as Celestia and Luna give the other hemisphere of the planet it's summer as we are given our winter in this one. They are gods for a reason. Every year, every being living on this planet is reminded of a time before the Celestials tamed the weather and the sun. The ultimate goal of this is fear.

How does that work? They're not, like, actually altering the movement of the sun and the moon, are they?

They are. Before Celestia's mother and father arrived in this solar system, it was not what one would call habitable. The planet we now call Eden was a cooling magma ball, devoid of water but rich in minerals, and most importantly, it orbited a pink star that radiated the energy commonly known as magic.

Like cosmic starlings drawn to a stellar flame, Galaxos and Universa decided to make the planet their home, reshaping it to their whim. Universa shrunk the sun and repositioned the planet to optimal life-bringing distance, while her husband Galaxos plucked icy asteroids from the belt and flung them by the thousands to the surface, bringing clouds and weather to the planet. These events would forever bind this solar system with magical rituals that have to be maintained, even to this day.

When Celestia says she is "raising the sun," or Luna says she is "raising the moon," they are literally moving the Eden and its moon with their telekinesis. It's not something that would be easy to do, but it's not something that only they could do, necessarily.

Yeah, yeah, we're back at the cabin. Let's check the isotope. Scarlet darted through my legs, beelining to the woods to hunt. "Don't go too far, sweetie."

I walked with similar fervor up to the attic, taking the steps two at a time, but when I opened the door and looked at the mess of machinery and equipment, I couldn't tell what was what.

What's the matter, John? I thought we were gonna check the isotope?

Yeah, yeah, okay. Is it done decaying or not?

It is. That little green light on the isotope container indicates that vacuum chamber has resealed itself.
If you had been paying attention, you would have realized it was red before. I bit back a mental retort as she guided me to the corner of the room, having me set up a chair at an angle from the screen, like I was going to be recording something. Is there a camera in this mess?There is. It's up on the top of the rack, it's already wired into the system. Just hit the red button.

I regretted not changing back into my jeans and shirt, but I wasn't going to waste any more time. I quickly planned what I was going to say in my head. Before you do anything, pick up that clipboard and read what's on there.I leaned over and hit the button, shaking my head and picking up the clipboard as I sat back down.

"Twenty-four, forty-two, eighty-eight, forty-four, forty-eight, twenty, forty." I read in a monotone. Okay,
you're golden, Ponyboy. Thank you very much. You're welcome, your Majesty. Don't call me that.

"Hey, uh, I've been told that whoever is receiving this message can get it into the hands of my brother, Micheal Salem. He looks like me, but he doesn't have a beard, and he has grey hair and purple eyes. He's hard to miss. Thanks for doing that, I guess.

"Mike, I'm in some deep shit, bro, and I might not be back for a while. I hope you're doing alright. Things are so crazy here, I just wish I was home. I feel like I'm in a war zone. Try not to worry about me too much, though, I'm not in over my head, just yet. I just miss ya, little buddy, and I miss, just being on Earth, man. Anyway, yeah, I hope you're doing alright."

I heard Scarlet tromping around downstairs, calling my name. "John?"

Are you done? Yeah, I think so. Alright, I'm gonna send it now, James Cameron. The quantum physics are a little complicated, but for both our sakes, I'll keep it short: It could take anywhere from an hour to a day to get a response. That is, of course, extremely fast considering the message is travelling several parsecs practically instantaneously. Hey, words hurt, you know, and Titanic was pretty good, even thought it's long as shit. I shut off the camcorder, and went downstairs to tend to my wyvern.

She held a scroll in her wing claw, and another of those striped birds from the woods in her mouth. It was dead and only a little mangled, a gift, apparently. I took the scroll to read and told her to go start some water boiling ,so I could clean it for a late lunch. As usual, she jumped at the opportunity to start a fire, and as usual, I swallowed the dread that one of these days I'd find the woods aflame, and her giggling over the roasted corpses. I pushed these thoughts aside to read the letter.

John,

I hope you haven't forgotten we're attending Rarity's Nightmare Night bash together? Should we meet there? I'm not really sure what the etiquette for this situation would be. Write back with your answer, in coherent Equesh, please?

Celestia

It was almost cute. I penned back a quick response, having Scarlet incinerate it. Then I dug around in the cupboard for the bread crumbs. It was gonna be a good lunch.

Tia,

Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours, baby, I'll take care of everything. I'll meet you at your palace, we can chat before we head out, I've had a pretty interesting time these past few days, you could call it a breakthough in my studies of human culture.

J.

I had plenty of time to dread the party. For now, I'm ready for a nice fried bird lunch with my wyvern. As the bird parts cooked, I watched Fluffy chew the bird's guts by the river, being careful not to get bile on his brand new pink collar, courtesy of Ponyville Hardware. Maybe the party wouldn't be so bad. All my friends were going to be there.

Your girlfriend's gonna be there. Shut up, she's not my girlfriend.

If she's not your girlfriend, then why are you going on a date with her?

It's not a date. Shut up.

Author's Note

Sorry for the wait, but never fear,

For Nightmare Night is almost here,

Drown ourselves in limpid tears,

I've been writing this for almost ten years,

When will God grant me the sweet embrace of death

Fuckin

-Fuck