I really thought my day couldn’t get any weirder, right up until a magical portal ripped through the fabric of space over my bed. Needless to say, this was a huge distraction, and I immediately forgot the essay I’d been writing in favor of staring at the pinkie-yellow swirling vortex of impossibility that hung midair in my room.
Then I was distracted from the portal by the purple pony who leapt out of it, wings spread and horn glowing with wibbley purple light. My mechanical pencil fell from my fingers and ricocheted off the desk. “Twilight Sparkle?!”
The purple alicorn held up a hoof. “Please don’t panic! I come in—” She stopped, then cocked her head at me, purple eyes wide. You never realize how thoroughly purple someone is until you meet them in person. “Wait, you know my name?” I was about to squeak a response when her eyes narrowed and the glow on her horn grew bigger. “Changeling!” she yelled, rearing back. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), she hadn’t realized she was on a bed, and rearing up like that sent her off-balance so that she tumbled to the floor with a cringe-worthy THUMP-THU-THUMP!
I stared, my poor brain stuck in tapioca mode. “What?” Then she leapt to her feet (sorry, hooves) and pointed that horn at me again, so I threw my hands in the air and just babbled frantically. “Don’t shoot! Not a Changeling! How are you real?! What is happening?!?”
The purple pony princess continued glaring at me, but the woobley aura around her horn dimmed a little. “Then how do you know my name?” she pressed. “I’ve never been to this dimension before. Although you are a human…” She studied me and then herself, clearly puzzled as to why she hadn’t gone all Canterlot High upon jumping through the portal into a clearly human dimension.
Uncertain what else to do, I pointed at the computer on my desk. “We have a television show about you. I thought you were fictional. I’m having a really hard time with this, frankly. What are you doing here?” I was kind of impressed with myself for being this calm. In fact, there may have been a complete lack of emotion in my voice altogether. Some might call that a sign of shock, but I, an educated young woman staring at a supposedly fictional magical creature from another dimension who had appeared unexpectedly through a space-time rip in my bedroom, chose to see it as a valuable survival instinct.
Twilight Sparkle blinked several times, clearly having as much trouble with this as I. “Well,” she managed, giving me the sideeye, “I’ll probably want to ask you more about that later. But I’m here on urgent business. A race from my world, known as the Changelings, has infiltrated your reality and may be taking over your governments and various authoritative positions as we speak. My transportation spell led me here, and there’s no time to lose.”
I took a moment to digest this news. Shapeshifting monsters who steal love and joy and can take the form of anything or anyone, infiltrating our government and seeking ultimate power? Suddenly the recent election year made a lot more sense. Before I could question her further, though, my mother walked into the room.
“Karen, can you help me with—” She froze at the sight of the purple unicorn standing in the middle of my carpet. Her eyes widened until they could have rivaled the overlarge pupils of my mystical horse visitor. I opened my mouth to formulate an explanation, but since I barely knew what was going on, it was working out to be a very short speech.
Twilight, for her part, tried to keep things calm. She turned off her horn and raised a hoof again, smiling. “Please don’t be alarmed. My name is—”
“Twilight Sparkle.” The growl that ground from my mom’s mouth could rival a dump truck on rumble strips. “So. You’ve found me at last.”
Now Twilight and I were both staring at Mom. “What?” we unisoned.
Mom blinked twice, glancing between me and the purple alicorn. Sweat suddenly broke out on her temple, and then she spun and scooted back out my bedroom door. “Never mind, my mistake, forget I said anything. Honey, I’m just going to run to the store—”
“Hold it!” Twilight’s horn lit again, capturing my mother in its purple glow and dragging her back in. Normally I might take offense to that, but I don’t have the quickest reflexes, and I was still stuck on why Mom had been talking like supervillain. Twilight flew up to eye level with my mother, purple eyes narrowed to slits. “So, my spell did work! I knew I’d find you, Chrysalis!”
I’m pretty sure my jaw literally detached on its way to the floor. “WHAT?!” I shrieked.
Mom sighed and rolled her eyes, and then there was a loud, bright flash of green fire that blew Twilight backwards and knocked me and my chair over. When the smoke cleared, a very tall, very shiny Changeling Queen stood in my bedroom. “Foolish Twilight Sparkle,” she cackled, sounding quite unlike my mother and very much like a cartoon supervillain - which, well, she was. “You are too late! My power has grown stronger than ever in this new world!” Her very jagged mouth tipped up in a smug, toothy grin. “Besides, puny pony, we both know that you couldn’t defeat me alone at the best of times. Where are your insipid little friends?” She cast a furtive glance around the room, apparently more concerned about those “insipid little friends” than she wanted us to believe.
That reminded me. “Hey, yeah, where is the rest of your squad?” I asked, rolling over from my position on the floor. Thoughtfully, I added, “Our, uh, magical method of knowing who you are means I also know about the other Elements of Harmony. Or whatever you guys are calling yourselves these days. So where’s the rest of them?” This seemed safer to focus on than the question of why my mother was or had been replaced by an evil otherdimensional bug queen.
Twilight had already gotten to her feet (hooves, I mean hooves). “They’re coming shortly,” she muttered, checking herself for bruises. “I could only open the portal for one pony at a time.” As if on cue, another portal ripped open and Fluttershy dropped onto my bedspread with a cute, “OOP!” Twilight grimaced. “Um… maybe I should have brought Rainbow Dash through next.”
Fluttershy clearly shared this sentiment, since she took one look at me and Chrysalis before shooting underneath my bed, which was something of a feat since these ponies are not as small as we might think they are. She may have gotten stuck halfway under, her yellow butterfly-decorated flanks sticking out and her back hooves scraping for purchase on my carpet.
While Twilight dealt with her panicking friend, I, having decided that I was either hallucinating or going to die anyway, stood up and turned to face the elephant in the room. “Okay, I know you’re not actually my mom, so why are you in my house? We are not exactly the seat of American governmental power,” I pointed out helpfully.
I was more than a little startled when the bug queen’s eyes turned to me and softened. “Karen… I never knew how to tell you this, but… I am your mother,” she cooed, putting a hole-ridden hoof on my shoulder.
The computer that is my brain did not appreciate this new input, and immediately crashed again. “That’s biologically impossible,” I deadpanned.
“Yes, well, you were adopted,” she snapped, eyes shifting. “Regardless, I have indeed been your mother these many years. How else would I know about the time our dog Charlie brought half a loaf of bread home and carried it around like a chew toy for the better part of a day?”
Chills ran up and down my spine. “How do you know about Jerry the Loaf?” I hissed, pointing a finger in her face, which I quickly withdrew as I realized that the teeth in that face could probably bite said finger clean off.
“Because I am your mother!” Chrysalis insisted, sounding injured now. Her big green-blue eyes swelled with emotion (I think they literally swelled, it’s kinda disturbing seeing cartoon physics in real life). “I have loved and cherished you all my days! And now they,” and the queen pointed a hoof at Twilight and Fluttershy right as the portal dropped a startled Rarity into the room, “want to take me away from you!” Suddenly Chrysalis morphed back into the form of my mom, and hid behind me. “Don’t let her take me, Karen!” she wailed.
Deciding that this little quandary was killing more brain cells than I felt like losing right now, I let my ADD take control and turned to look at Rarity. “Oh wow, your mane is gorgeous,” I said without thinking. What? ADD people like shiny things, this is common knowledge.
Rarity, who had hopped onto the floor and was staring with raised eyebrow at Twilight trying to coax Fluttershy out from under the bed, spun to me and brightened noticeably. “Why, thank you, darling!” She bounced her curled mane lightly with one hoof. “One must take proper care of one’s appearance!” Then she looked me up and down with what could only be a critical eye, taking in my shabby t-shirt and old jeans and very straight brown hair, which were my usual Saturday vegging attire (and everyday hair). “Oh, thank heaven I arrived when I did, clearly my services are needed here!” She glanced back at Twilight. “Twilight, dear, isn’t Chrysalis supposed to be here? A fashion emergency is in dear need of my attention.”
I probably could have been offended by that, but at this point a free makeover offer from a magical fantasy horse was the most appealing part of my morning.
“She’s… right… over… there,” Twilight grunted; she had resorted to dragging Fluttershy out from under the bed with her purple magic. That little yellow pegasus must have been surprisingly strong, because she was doing a good job of resisting. “Behind… the… human… girl!”
The portal flashed again, and this time Rainbow Dash whooshed through, doing a dramatic Iron Man three point landing on the rug. “Alright, let’s get this party started!” she whooped. “I’m gonna bust some buggy—” Her eyes finally took in the dimensions of my small, very ordinary, and under-decorated bedroom. “Uh? Hey, where’s the fight?” She tried to turn around and bumped into Rarity, who in turn banged into my bedside table and almost knocked my alarm clock onto the floor. It occurred to me that multiple equines in my room, however pony-sized they might be, was taking up the available real estate very quickly.
As if on cue, Applejack fell into my world. The portal must've been getting the hang of things, because she was almost immediately followed Pinkie Pie, and then by… “Starlight Glimmer?” I exclaimed. “You brought Starlight?” I considered this for a moment. “Actually, yeah, super magical unicorn, that makes sense. But where’s Spike?” I insisted, feeling a little put out by the exclusion of the adorable dragon. Because even if he IS tiny, who wouldn’t want to meet an actual dragon? Besides Fluttershy, of course.
Twilight gave up on Fluttershy, turning back to my now very crowded room. Her face scrunched up in a clear expression of displeasure. “I still don’t understand how you know who we all are,” she grumbled. “But it doesn’t matter right now. First, we need to take care of her.” She pointed at Mom/Chrysalis, who was still hiding behind me and had added a blanket over her head as additional cover. “Step aside, miss, and we’ll try to deal with this peaceably,” Twilight commanded.
I waffled there for a moment. On the one hand, I was pretty sure Chrysalis was not, in fact, my mom, as that would be weird and mind-bending on multiple levels. But on the other hand, starting a fight in the middle of my bedroom seemed less than optimal. I’d seen what happens when magic gets thrown around on this show, and let’s just say I didn’t expect to have four walls standing by the end of the encounter. Plus, if Chrysalis wasn’t my mom, then she might have stashed my mom somewhere, and I’d rather find out where before the shooting started.
So I went for the diplomatic approach. “You should probably listen to them… uh… Mom,” I tried, crouching down by the blanket-huddling figure. She really did look like a scared version of my mom, which tugged at my heartstrings a little. “I mean, if your position in life has been downgraded to masquerading as a middle-class housewife who gardens as a hobby, things can’t really be going that well for you.”
Chrysalis/Mom pouted a little, drawing invisible circles on the carpet with her finger. “We’re already infiltrated up to the presidential candidates,” she insisted. “We could achieve total takeover of the American government in a matter of years!” She bared her teeth, human eyes flashing green in a very disconcerting manner. “If that fool Carapace hadn’t bungled his one job, we’d have complete control of the Senate by now, and I wouldn’t be lying low in mundane suburbia!”
“But why do you even want the presidency?” I blurted, brain finally recovered enough to boot up my critical thinking skills. “Don’t you people need love to survive?”
“Of course!” Chrysalis snapped. “And those in power are loved by their subjects! It is the ultimate way to obtain love. We would be able to steal it from our subjects wherever we go!” she said with a hungry, greedy smile on her face.
“Thaaaat’s really kind of wrong,” I mused, sitting back on my rump while I tried to sort out my thoughts. “I mean, you do know that, historically, bad leaders are hated and usually get LESS love, right? I mean, we’ve had a few presidents who were so bad, they got impeached, and, no offense, but I’ve seen your leading style. frankly, with the way the presidential elections are going right now, you’re probably going to be hated by, like, two-thirds of the United States population no matter who you disguise yourself as. It sounds like a lot of work for not enough gain to me.”
Chrysalis went silent for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she grumbled.
I leaned in on this potentially positive sign that I was getting through to her. “Exactly! It’s not like replacing Celestia or Cadence, where a ton of people already unilaterally love you. Human politics is super hard, and pretty underhanded sometimes. Not that you have a problem with being underhanded… er, underhooved,” I mused, scratching the back of my head. “But my point is, you’d have a HUGE learning curve for how to be effectively underhooved in our culture, whereas back in Equestria, you’re probably already an expert, right?” I raised my eyebrows encouragingly. “So, really, is it even worth the effort?”
“Man, I can’t believe this is working,” Rainbow Dash stage-whispered behind us. Twilight loudly shushed her, for which I was grateful. Stroking egos is a very delicate process that can backfire in an unpleasantly dramatic fashion.
It was right about then that my basset hound, Charlie, walked into the room, wagging his tail. He took one look at the ponies and “Mom” huddled under a blanket and froze. But as I braced myself for him to start barking like a madman (mad dog?), he sighed, sat down, and completely threw off my masterful talk-down groove by sighing, “Aw, darnit.”
“Seriously?!” I threw my hands in the air, all thoughts of political debate gone in the face of my talking dog. “My dog, too?! Why are Changelings taking over my house?! It’s not even an exciting house! The most thrilling thing to happen is the occasional board game tournament! We sit around watching TV most nights!”
“I am quite fond of Forged in Fire,” Chrysalis/Mom mused. “My Changelings shall learn much from their masterful steel-working techniques and create weapons such as Equestria has never dreamed!” She let out a very evil-villain cackle.
I almost asked why she wasn’t learning to replicate guns, but I’m proud to say that I proved myself marginally intelligent by biting my tongue. “Look, you really need to leave,” I insisted instead, turning back to Chrysalis/Mom. “All of you, right now. Probably Twilight’s going to make you, anyway, but it’d work out much better for everyone if you just did whatever you did to get here in the first place and took this feud back to your home dimension.” Twilight looked like she might argue with one of my points, but I pressed on. “Earth has enough problems without you doing an off-Broadway reenactment of that awful Stephenie Meyer book. And I really need to know where to find my mom and dog.”
Mom/Chrysalis scowled at me, and boy, was it hard not to quail under that familiar mother stare. “I keep telling you, Karen, I am your mother!”
I peered intently at her, the wheels in my head turning. “You’re sticking with that story, huh?”
The Changeling Queen in disguise wore a hurt look, hand to her chest as if I’d pierced her straight through the heart. “I am, Karen. You must believe me.”
I thought about this for a moment longer. Then I nodded once, and walked over to Twilight. “Okay,” I said, holding my hands out as if waiting for handcuffs. “I surrender.”
“What?” said absolutely everyone in the room, with varying degrees of confusion and/or outrage.
I shrugged. “Sure. Take me back to Equestria. Use me as a hostage.” I looked back over my shoulder to stare Chrysalis/Mom straight in the eye. “I got the idea from you, you were basically using me as a shield just now. My real Mom would care about me too much not to follow and try to rescue me. So I figure, let’s spare Earth and my bedroom a bunch of trouble, and I’ll just go through now and wait over there until all of you guys get out of here. Besides, I’d totally love to see Equestria.”
A smile slowly grew on Twilight's face, along with a carefully considering look. “You know what? I like that idea,” she said slyly. I guess she either believed I could really be Chrysalis’s weird adopted human daughter and was willing to use my betrayal to her advantage, or she recognized and was trying to help my ploy to out Chrysalis’s crazy story about being my weird adoptive bug queen mother. Either way, I appreciated the backup. “I think we should get started right away,” Twilight continued, magic building on her horn as the pinkish-yellow portal started opening over my bed again. “We have very comfortable guest quarters for willing political prisoners,” she assured me in a mock whisper.
“And I’m standing between you and the ponies, too, so you’d probably hurt me if you tried to stop them,” I added helpfully, since Chrysalis's chitinous face had turned a remarkable shade of rage-red.
Silence filled the room for a few year-long seconds while I braced myself for the Changeling equivalent of a nuclear blow-up. I did not expect Chrysalis/Mom to stand upright, transform back into her Changeling Queen form, and throw her green mane back with a petulant sigh. “Oh, fine then,” she groused. “If you’re going to be like that, Karen, I’ll go. This planet’s proven to be too much trouble, anyway.”
I must not have reattached my jaw properly, because it fell to the floor even faster this time. “Wait, what?!” I seemed to have developed a new catchphrase.
Chrysalis’s jagged horn lit up with a green glow that went all the way down to fill her eyes, and the queen bug’s voice became strangely reverberant as she spoke. “All Changeling troops, release your replicants and return to Alpha Station. The insipid ponies have found us. We shall convene in Home World and regroup for our next objective. Await my arrival before activating the portal; if I have not arrived within the hour, you may disperse into the human population and drain them at will.” The glow died, and she gave Twilight & Co. a triumphant smirk. “There. A little insurance against you and your pathetic friends trying to keep me from my subjects. We shall meet again in Equestria, Twilight Sparkle. Someday, I will rule you all.”
Twilight glowered at her. “This isn’t the end, Chrysalis. We’ll defeat your—”
“WAIT JUST A MINUTE!” I yelled, finally reading my limit on craziness for the day, as noted by the fact that I just interrupted a dramatic face-off between a superpowered Alicorn Princess and a superpowered Changeling Queen. I marched up to said Changeling Queen, trying to look fierce but probably coming across as panicked. “Are you serious?! You’re actually— Why did that work?” My brain had that now-familiar computer crash feeling again.
She opened her mouth, but I stuck a hand against her snout. It was surprisingly hard and beetley, which I guess shouldn’t have been surprising. “Before you say you’re really my mom again, answer me one question,” I snapped. I peered her in the eye and asked, very slowly, “Who… is my favorite Danny Phantom character? Sam or Tucker?”
Chrysalis and I stared at each other for a very, very long minute. Then her eyes suddenly shifted sideways. “…Sam, of course.”
“Ha!” I pointed at the ceiling in triumph. “It was a trick question! It’s Danny, obviously. You are so not my mom!”
Chrysalis ground her teeth, made a very aggravated noise, and stomped her hoof. “Oh, alright, fine. No, I am not really your mother,” she grumbled. “But I have been masquerading as her on and off for two years now. She was a useful tool for when I need a low-security disguise; I simply came to this house at will, did a simple memory assimilation spell on her to catch myself up on household events, and stored her in the basement until I needed to leave. It was a very useful and… not unpleasant arrangement.” That last tidbit came out in a very grudging tone.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Both for knowing Mom's location, and for being freed of the worry that my mother was actually a lying, two-faced shapeshifter from a kids’ TV show. I might already need counseling without that on my plate. “Wait, is that why she randomly disappears and then shows up the next morning with a migraine and no idea where she’s been?” Thank goodness, I guess Dad could cancel those doctor appointments. And stop worrying that Mom had become a closet drinker. Then I frowned. “But that doesn’t explain why you were willing to abandon this world just to keep the ponies from having me as a hostage.”
Chrysalis’s face soured even further, her eyes locked on the ceiling. “It wasn’t just because of you. Although I suppose our time together wasn’t… completely without its pleasant moments.” Her gaze tracked to the stack of board games I kept by my desk. Before I could process a response to this, Chrysalis shook her head fiercely and glowered at Twilight, as if this were all her fault despite the purple princess having no discernible input in the situation. “Perhaps it is best that I get out of this world,” she muttered. “Infiltration among weak-minded humans and memory assimilation spell after-effects are making me far too soft.”
With that, she stalked towards the door, crystalline bug wings humming dramatically. “Regardless, I, the Queen of the Changelings, must continue my quest to gain power – and love, of course – for all my subjects. Farewell, Karen! My need for your regular supply of love, which was clearly my only true use for you, is at an end.” Then she turned, pointed a hole-riddled hoof at me, and said with a triumphant sneer that seemed a little forced, “And you really are adopted!”
The door slammed behind her buzzing wings, ending the conversation. I felt oddly at peace, though; she was probably just spouting off mean things to cover her insecurities over realizing she cared about someone. The bigger question on my mind was whether she’d remember to change shape before going out the front door – a question potentially answered by the sound of squealing tires and a startled scream outside my window.
“Wow. I hope I don’t ever have to deal with her one-on-one,” Starlight Glimmer mused. “She seems really pretentious.”
“Well, that went… um… better than I expected,” Twilight said. She glanced at me, a concerned frown on her lips. “Are you alright… Karen, was it? This must be a lot to take in.”
I waved my hand. “I’m saving the freak-out until everyone leaves and I don’t have any more visual evidence that I haven’t lost my mind.”
The alicorn gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, if Chrysalis is true to her word, your world shouldn’t have any more Changeling problems. Hopefully this doesn’t have any particularly nasty effects on your system of government?” There was a definite question mark there, either from her curiosity about the workings of our human government or an inquiry into whether the Equestrian government needed to get involved to fix things, I wasn’t sure. The second option was a little tempting, though.
“Nah,” I said with a shrug. “Trust me, they couldn’t make it much more messed up than it is already.” I grinned and hooked a thumb over my shoulder towards the door. “The funny part is, that was a trick of a trick question; pretty sure my real mom wouldn’t have known my favorite character from a cartoon show I watched ten years ago, either. Glad that worked out. And my room isn’t blown up, so, all things considered, I’d say thing went pretty well!”
Starlight Glimmer chuckled. “I think I like you.” I found this compliment extremely pleasing, even coming from a former Marxist unicorn villain.
Pinkie Pie, who had been bouncing in place since her arrival, sprang high enough to rebound off the ceiling. “Whoo-hoo! We win! Time for a victory party!”
“Not now, Pinkie,” Twilight said, all business again as she gathered her portal magic. “We need to get back to Equestria and warn Princess Celestia and Princess Luna of Chrysalis’s actions—”
“Um, on that note,” I interrupted with a raised hand. “Can you hang around long enough for me to make sure my mom actually is in the basement? I may need help solving that, ah, small problem.”
The ponies reached a general consensus that this would be fine, so I charitably asked if they’d like to take a tour. “Oo, yes, I’ve so wondered what human accommodations are like!” Rarity exclaimed. Then she immediately trotted down the hall to my brother's room and let out a shriek of disgust. The others slipped out one by one, leaving my room less like an overfilled ranch corral and more like a bedroom. Fluttershy nodded to me with an alternating mix of shy smiles and embarrassed glances at the dents she'd made in my bed frame.
While the seven magical ponies picked through my house, I went downstairs and, yup, sure enough, I found several large Changeling pods in the back room behind the boiler. They’re actually sort of pretty, if you ignore the creepy sight of your family members hanging in suspended animation. It seemed the Changelings had been impersonating not only my mom, but also my brother, and, strangely, the mailman. I did not see my dog, which worried me a little.
It turns out that Changeling pods can be broken with a hammer, or a stern kick from an apple-farming horse, so we opened the pods in short order. By the way, Changeling goo is super nasty, and even unicorn magic couldn't clean it all up in one go. Twilight and Starlight worked on that problem while Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash carted (ha, horse puns) the people upstairs. My mom and brother were laid out on the couch, but we set the mailman gently out by the mailbox. The hope was that when he came around, he wouldn’t associate us with his strange amnesia or the remnants of green goo on his trousers, and thus would not press charges and/or commit himself to an insane asylum.
Everything was cleared up faster than I expected, which meant it was soon time for the ponies to leave. Matters of national security and all that, but still, I felt a smidge disappointed. “So,” I said, trying to stay upbeat, “this has been an experience, huh?”
“Haha… yeah, I guess it has,” Twilight admitted, blushing a little. “Thank you for being so, well, accommodating.” She raised a hoof and squinted at me. “Although I’d still like to know how you know so much about us…”
A groan from the supine woman on the couch gave me the needed excuse to interrupt that sentence. “Well, now might not be a good time. But maybe you guys can, y’know, come visit?” I added hopefully. Hey, I’m not going to let a bunch like this just pop in and pop out without at least trying to sucker a second visit out of it! If for no other reason than to prove to myself later that I wasn’t actually insane.
Several of the ponies smiled – especially Rarity, who had been supremely disappointed at not getting to give a real-live human a fashion makeover. “We might be able to make that happen,” Twilight assured me. “In fact, here.” She concentrated for a moment, the magic on her horn building up to create an aura that suddenly flashed in a retina-burning explosion of pink. A pen that had been lying on the table abruptly turned purple, with a pink star on the side. “If you have any more problems with Changelings, you can use that to contact me, alright?”
I snatched that pen up faster than a starving man at a buffet. “Sure thing!”
And then the seven magical ponies left, and I sat back on the couch and waited for half my family members (Dad was at work) to wake up. This would have been a great time to contemplate the raging insanity and existential crises that had just beset my household, if not for a whispered voice from behind the couch. “Pst! Are they gone?”
I jolted, then turned to see my dog, Charlie, come around the couch and sit down. “I thought you guys left?” I asked, eyebrow raised. I fingered the pen in my hand, wondering how Twilight would feel about such a quick return visit.
“Yyyyeah… see… here’s the thing…” he waffled, which was pretty cute coming from a droopy-eared basset hound. “Can I stay here with you?” I stared in disbelief as he hurried on. “Honestly, you guys don’t actually have a dog, it was me all this time, Queen Chrysalis just had me watching out for her ‘host family’, haha, get it, puns… uh, anyway, you guys are way nicer than she is? Or pretty much all the rest of my kind? And I like being petted? And I don’t feel half as hungry around you guys which is probably why the Queen kept showing up all the time when she totally didn’t need to?” He stopped babbling long enough to inch closer to me, beaming maximum pity rays from his soulful basset eyes. “Soooooooooo can I stay here? Pretty please?”
We stared at each other for several minutes as my brain finally insisted that we try to process everything being thrown at us. The talking dog; my unconscious family; space-time portals; the magical pen in my hand that could summon superpowered alicorns from another dimension. I still needed to contemplate the nature of existence and wonder why in the utter crap God made dimensions full of magical talking horses AND gave our world the capability to know just enough about it to turn them into kids’ television shows; that couldn't be put off indefinitely. Not to mention the fact that the queen of the Changelings liked Forged in Fire and board games and potentially had some lingering motherly affection for me. And now a Changeling had clearly stated that he would like to become (stay?) the family pet.
After considering all of these quandaries for an extended period of time, I found one single, solid conclusion on which I could stand firm:
I will never get my homework done at this rate.
Author's Note
I am honestly not sure where on Earth this came from, but here you go, have a happy dose of really stupid crack fiction. Also, if you haven't read Stephenie Meyer's The Host... don't. Please don't. I have only ragequit on books a couple of times in my life and none so hard as that one. Also politics are super dumb right now, but please let's not start any debates about it in the comments, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I BEG YOU LET'S NOT DO THAT
Forged in Fire is FREAKING AWESOME, though.
~River
P.S. No, I am not Karen, and I do not have a brother named Dave. I did used to own a few basset hounds, though, and the story of Jerry the Loaf is true. In Loving Memory of Rosie (and Jerry the Loaf).
