I am a doctor.
The most exalted doctor to be exact. I live in a castle thanks to my always successful treatments. It’s a good life. Ponies leave good as new and I get to bathe in sweet, sweet medieval bitcoin. At least, most of the time that’s what happens.
Sometimes, there are days like today. Days where I awake because of a familiar and dreadful sound. A poof. I sit up, groggy. Admittedly, I’m less tired despite how I’ve been the last few days. Damn serfs can’t go a day without getting sick. Thinking of contacting Celestia and telling her to have the Wonderbolts drop leeches all over the land.
Leeches solve everything.
After all, I am a revered and beloved doctor.
Just ask my many patients.
They’re out there, trust me.
Oh well, it’s early morning and spring. Allergies are in season, as are the singing of birds. Worst of all, I’m out of ‘go away’ rocks to throw.
I levitate the letter over and unravel it. A smile as wide as a fully grown tapeworm etches onto my face. “Well, well, well,” I say to myself; my smile widening even more. “It’s Princess Celestia.” I chuckle and read the letter to myself.
Oh, great and exalted doctor of Equestria,
Princess Twilight has contacted me that her number one assistant, and the hero of the Crystal Empire, Spike the Dragon, is gravely ill. She has requested I send the most skilled doctor in all of Equestria to her castle at once. I understand that your reputation is one that has lead me to consider you more of a public menace than an actual skilled medical practitioner, but desperate times call for desperate measures and you, more often than not, get results. So please, do not cause too much trouble. I’m still very much upset about what happened last time you went to Ponyville.
Your payment will be shipped to you, as per the norm, in the form of leeches and medicinal herbs.
Not to mention, medieval bitcoin.
Sincerely, Princess Celestia
“Hmm… the purple one is in need of a doctor?” I throw the letter behind me into a fireplace where it burns, much like the serfs who can’t handle my medical advice. “Well, best not to waste time. There are leeches and sweet, sweet medieval bitcoin to be earned.”
I leap out of bed and happily advance towards my wardrobe. Opening it, I see an array of scary masks that strike fear into those who are sick. They’re all beautifully crafted, with some even sporting memories of times long since past.
“Ah, yes.” I levitate one out and admire its impeccable craftsmanship. “I always outdo myself with these.” I put it on, now feeling whole again. “I am scariest doctor!” I strike a pose that would send any foal running to their peasant mothers and fathers.
That is, if they aren’t dead.
Oh well, no time to mourn.
I grab my most prized cloak. I stitched it together myself. Oh, the things I’ve stolen from peasants. The idiots accidentally kept the leeches on their bodies for too long. After it’s on, I take out a chest. A really big chest.
Probably the size of that pile of dead ponies I made the other day.
It was really big.
“Hm.” I examine the various pointy sticks. They’re all crafted from the finest materials that medieval bitcoin could purchase.
Ivory.
There’s a very fine arrangement of pointiness; each stick having its own usability when it comes to a type of illness.
Of course, to the foolish peasant who’s lucky—or unlucky—enough to see them, they all look alike.
I grab the pointiest one and throw the chest behind me. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and waiting when a princess is in dire need of help calls for rearranging pointy sticks. I grab my doctor bag from near my front door and rush out of my castle, hastily making my way to the local coal-powered whistle thingy. I think they call it a train station. That isn’t important however! I rush up to the counter with the dead looking colt behind it and inform him that I’m on a medical call. He charges me twenty medieval bitcoins.
I bash him upside the head with my doctor stick, knocking him backwards like the vast majority of my patients.
Thud
I’m arrested.
“Unhand me you foul mutts of normality!” I say, struggling to break free of the unholy grasp of these horrid lesser beings known as Celestia’s ‘law enforcement’.
“Wait!”
A voice fills the air. It’s regal. It’s beautiful.
“I left my bag on the train.”
It’s a peasant.
A useful one, however. I levitate my doctor stick over and clock both the stallions upside their heads. I leap up and grab my bag, my hooves carrying me as quickly as they can. Luckily, I get onto the train just as the doors close. Outside, I can see the stallions I struck finally scramble to their hooves.
Alas, I can never come back here.
I am a homeless doctor.
An hour later, the train arrives at Ponyville. I get off, eager to get away from all the peasants that keep asking me why I was ‘dressed up for Nightmare Night in the springtime’.
Oh, how I hate the lot of them.
I wrap my bag around my saddle and hastily make my way towards Twilight’s castle. Memories of the last time I was here fill my head. Having to treat the mayor for an acute sinus infection. The bitch refused to do anything I asked. Oh, the looks I got from the locals when I used my anesthesia on her...
Oh, the lawsuits when she was comatose for six days.
Good thing I cured her while she was out. The payouts I would’ve had to make were scarier than the average peasant’s health.
I receive a few nervous looks from locals, some of who I recognize. Two of the Element bearers—Rarity and Fluttershy—stare at me with hesitation. Naturally, being the most well respected and beloved doctor in Equestria, I wave.
They run.
“Hmph.” I turn away from the serfs, all of whom seem to be content with following the example set by the Element bearers, and continue towards the castle.
It doesn’t take long, especially since I don’t have ponies lining up for my autograph. I guess Ponyville’s residents have that going for them. They’re nowhere as intrusive as those in Canterlot. Well, most of them aren’t. Damn party pony. I could’ve performed dozens of experiments, used hundreds of leeches, and I’m sure she wouldn’t have been cured of even a tenth of the things I saw wrong with her.
I walk up to the front door and knock on it. While I wait, I admire how much less fantastic the castle is than mine. I don’t get much time to do so, as the door swings open not three seconds after I knocked on it.
“Oh, Doctor!” Twilight steps aside for me. I, like the gentlecolt that I am, step inside and drop my bag to my side.
I am a doctor, and it makes a very loud sound. One that obviously gets the attention of the dragon that I read is named ‘Spike’, as it lets out a sneeze that creates enough fire to light my most beloved bonfire.
He also takes with him some other pony, who runs out of the room and rolls around.
“Looks like I have two patients today,” I remark. I grab some lotion from my doctor kit and hand it to the princess, who seems awfully concerned for royalty. “Apply this to whichever lives. The one who dies, be sure to donate to me for medicinal science purposes.”
“She’s my pupil!” I receive a smack upside my beautiful mask, the pinnacle of disrespect if I’ve ever felt it.
“I could just leave right now,” I say in a tone that usually makes those who visit me leave my general presence.
Even the corpses run off.
“N-no! Please, help Spike! I don’t want to lose him!”
Music to my ears.
To my amusement, she doesn’t care for the campfire in her hallway, which I casually walk down, stopping only to admire the fiery body. I wish I’d brought some marshmallows now. Oh well, no time to desire food. I continue onward, eventually stopping at the room that had been blown open by the sick one known as Spike.
Inside, the room’s covered in green fire.
Everything.
Literally.
It’s an inferno.
In the middle is Spike, who’s on a bed of flames. His entire body is green… because his entire body is on fire.
His fins are on fire.
His tail is on fire.
His dick is on fire.
“Oh, this is nothing. I’ve seen this a thousand times.”
Holy shit, what is wrong with this dragon?
“R-really!?” Twilight looks at me as hopeful as she does distraught.
“Yeah...” Oh sweet Celestia, this heat is unbearable. “It’s like a welcoming plague to me. I see it every season. Nothing new. I’ll be done in maybe fifteen minutes.” I’m going to be here all damn day.
“Oh, thank Celestia!” Twilight casts a spell that, in another case, would have me screaming the user was a witch and watching as they were burned alive at a stake. The room is removed of its fiery décor and I walk inside. “Good morning, Spike!”
Silence fills the air.
“Ass.”
“He’s asleep.”
“Oh.” I turn around. “You’re still here?”
“I was just taking one last look at Spike.”
Have a bit less faith in me why don’t you. “Go fix that other horse. I can still smell her burning hair in here, and it reeks.”
Twilight rolls her eyes and shuts the door. I can hear her start talking to Campfire. It sounds like she’s telling her about how wonderful I am, but with questionable word choices. Like ‘he’s a jerk’ and ‘I don’t know if I like him’. Meanie.
I ignore Purple Prick’s insulting remarks and walk over to her draconic slave. “Good morning, Spike,” I say, loud enough so he jolts awake like when I attach electric cables to a patient. Only, Spike’s alive. Sadly. I rest my bag of doctorness at my side and continue. “My name is Plague Doctor, but you can just call me Doctor.”
“Ugh...”
Wow. What a poet.
“You’re going to help me?” he asks. He sounds like he’s choking on more fluid than I see in that lake outside my castle. Or, what was once my castle.
“Absolutely. It’s my job after all.” If I just prescribe ethanol and flee to that place with those bird lions, nobody will know it was me.
“Thank Celestia...” Spike coughs, sending flames flying out of his mouth.
“Well, how’d this all start?” I ask.
“It all started after I went to Klugetown.”
Great, he probably stepped on a used needle. That or some disease ridden object the disgusting vendors tried to sell to some poor serf.
“And what are your symptoms?” I ask, pretending I already can’t tell this dragon looks like he’s about to die. “Any vomiting?”
“Y-yes,” Spike whimpers. “Not a lot, but enough that my stomach hurts.”
“Any fever?”
This dragon is sweating more than I do when I receive a new body for my bonfire. I hate asking obvious questions.
“A hundred and four.”
“Wow, that’s pretty high!”
Wow, that’s pretty low for a dragon.
“Any diarrhea?” I ask, a wave of thoughts coursing through my mind. Fiery diarrhea. Oh sweet Celestia. Perhaps I can prescribe ghost peppers.
“A lot...”
“Alright.” Good to know dragons don’t dehydrate as easily as ponies. Maybe I can test if they starve as easily now. I throw my book into my bag and levitate my most pointy stick over. “First, I must test your reflexes, to make sure it’s not Polio.” I really wanna let out some anger for being put in a fire chamber.
“W-wait!” Spike shakes his hands weakly, looking like a famished peasant. “I’ve had my Polio vaccine!”
Oh. Bummer. Oh well, no way he’ll know if I make up a new strain. Any excuse to poke a peasant. “Well, there’s a new strain on the rise, and it’s extraordinarily dangerous!”
“Twilight got me a shot for Polio Ultimatus last week!”
What.
“Polio Ultimatus... yes, well, I’m glad you’ve gotten that vaccine.” I lower my doctor stick. “Okay, well... um.” I twirl the stick with my magic. Man, I want to poke this dragon. What’s his name again? Spork, I think.
“Doc... I feel like I’m gonna puke again.”
“Don’t burn it, it’s the only one that I saw.” I levitate over a bucket. There are at least twenty others laying around, but I’ll need them for when this kid keels over in about five minutes. I hear dragons explode when they die.
Suddenly, the most disgusting sound I’ve ever heard fills the air. It’s like two seals just climaxed and stepped on a hundred cockroaches.
Seriously, I’ve heard that dragons make some nasty sounds, but this is just repugnant.
“You done?” I tap my doctor stick on the floor, making mental notes of the event going on before me. That floor’s going to need serious reconstruction once this is all said and done.
Not to mention the floor beneath it.
“Yeah...” Spike falls backwards, some stuff dripping off the side of his mouth. I hesitate to say it’s vomit. It looks like solidified fire. Looks kind of cool actually. I’ll have to try and get a sample of it.
“Well, allow me to ask: did you touch anything in Klugetown?”
“I...” Spike coughs and groans in agony. Music to my ears. “I mean, we looked around. I touched some things, but none of it looked dirty.”
“Germs are insidious, little guy.” I laugh and point my doctor stick around. “They’re everywhere. You can’t escape them.” Not without a doctor mask! “Though... I can’t say for sure what your ailment is. I need to check your breathing, but you seem to be—”
Another unbearably disgusting retching sound penetrates the air as Spike vomits—again. I watch in simultaneous horror and dumbfounded awe as he sends gallons of that fiery vomit flying into the air.
It’s like a volcano erupted out of the mouth of this kid. In all of my time as a doctor, I’ve seen sights that would make the average peasant run away into the night.
This though…
“What the shit…” I duck out of the way of a chunk of that stuff, which slams into the ground. Around the room, more of those chunks crash into anything and everything. The wall, the floor, bookcases, and even Spike. Well, at least that means a bigger payday for me.
Woosh
Within the span of three seconds, however, the room has gone from having not a single ember in it to being ablaze. Again.
“Sorry,” Spike says from across the room. “It happens a lot.”
“Never would have guessed.” I stand up, cautiously moving around the fire as to not damage my scary mask. Luckily, I don’t, and I blast open the door to see Twilight and Campfire, who are tending to the latter’s wounds. They’re, naturally, repulsive. I wish I could poke them.
Twilight turns her head and, without a word, bolts over, extinguishing the fire in a dazzling display of magic and other things that I never learned because I was too busy playing with dead squirrels. “Are you hurt?” she asks once it’s out.
“No, but your concern is greatly appreciated,” I answer. I’m almost certain that I’ve inhaled an unhealthy level of smoke. Perhaps I myself am part dragon. Without another word, I walk back into the room and look around. That’s when my eyes land on something.
“Is that a scroll?”
Spike sits up. A small smile forms on his face. To my astonishment, he actually gets up and walks over to it. Dragon’s are weird. “Get Twilight,” he begins, “it’s from… Celestia and Luna.”
I nod, unwilling to argue with a dragon that not five minutes ago performed an act that should have killed him, and walk back out of the quarantine room that houses patient zero. Back outside is Twilight, who’s still tending to Campfire. Surprisingly, the latter looks fine. Most of her burn wounds have already healed.
That or it’s a life-sized replica.
“Spike barfed up a letter from Sunshine Princess.”
Twilight bolts back into the room, letting Campfire’s charred head hit the wall.
“Ow.”
I glance at her and smile beneath my mask. “I can make that better if you’d like.”
Campfire shakes her head. “I-I’ll be fine.”
“Suit yourself.” I turn around and trot back into the room. Normally, I’d not listen, but I’m not getting paid to fix her.
“Twilight—”
“Who’s the letter from?” I ask, cutting off Spike. “Is it my paycheck?”
“No,” Twilight sneers, further proving to me that royalty can go suck on a plague infected dick. “It’s just a get well letter from Celestia and Luna.”
Cute.
“Oh.” I levitate the letter over and look at it. There’s a crayon drawing of Sunshine and Moonshine. Flowers and clouds have faces on them. For some reason, Moonshine is colored in with colored pencils. Over the horrifyingly happy landscape is a heart that should be inside a diabetic. Within it, and written in ink for some stupid reason that I can only assume is Sunshine letting her professional self get the better of her, is ‘get better, Spike’.
“I think I just threw up a little looking at this.” I walk to Twilight and poke her flank with the pointy end of my pointy doctor stick. “Well, go back to Campfire,” I say. “I have a dragon to poke.”
“You mean cure, right?”
I laugh. “No.”
Twilight frowns at me. “You can cure him, correct?”
“I most certainly can.” I puff out my chest. I’d rather not upset royalty. Not yet anyways. This kid’s more likely to die than the average plague carrier.
I still couldn’t take a shot in the dark as to what’s wrong with him. He looks like he’s going to turn into a sapient lawn.
That can breathe fire.
Hm. Maybe I can get him to set some on fire plague victims for me.
“You better.” Twilight wipes away a tear. “I don’t want to lose him.” Hurriedly, she runs past me, shutting the door behind her. I can hear sobbing on the other side. I can’t tell if it’s Campfire or Twilight. Or perhaps it’s both and they’re in sync.
I shrug and levitate a stethoscope out of my kit of doctor grandness. “Okay, Spike, I’m just gonna check your breathing.” I place one end in the walking reptile of germy death and listen to his heartbeat. It’s actually reasonable.
“Doc... am I going to die?”
Oh, how I yearn to say he’s knocking on Death’s door. Alas, I nod and smile beneath my scary mask. “No. I’ll save you.”
Even a genie would deny your wish, kid. Then again, he doesn’t need one. I can do it, and I can do it better.
I am a doctor.
I request Spike do what most doctors tell their patients do: breath in and out. It takes two breaths for me to think that I made one of his lungs shrivel up and die. Everywhere I listen, I can hear enough congestion to dam a river.
“Well.” I take the stethoscope off and place it in the bag, levitating out a little flashlight afterwards. I flick it on and in a commanding voice say, “Open your mouth.”
“You sure?” Spike asks. “I mean, you saw—”
“Open your damn mouth or we’re testing your reflexes.”
Spike opens his mouth and I peer in. Unsurprisingly, it’s as red as my surgery room. I stop looking as I feel homesick just staring at it. That and I can see his flame gland. It looks like a decomposing rat.
“So, think you know what I have?” Spike looks at me with watery eyes. I’m honestly surprised they’re not on fire. Every other fluid of his seems to be a raging inferno. Oh well, I’ll take what I can get.
I let out a small sigh, to which Spike’s tears burst into flames. He lets out a yelp of pain. I, naturally, think for a second. All the possibilities feel… wrong. I see no white spots in his throat, which would indicate Strep Throat. This is way too intense to be a cold or sinus infection. He lacks any spots on his body that would let me say it’s the Chicken Pox. That leaves but a handful of diagnoses, but only one that I’ve heard in passing feels suitable. I can’t imagine why he’d have green scales. Perhaps it’s it the result of intense mutation. Alas, I need something to say, lest Twilight send me to the friendship guillotine.
“Yeah, it’s the Dragon Flu.”
Spike tilts his head. “What’s that?”
“Well, it’s like the flu, but for dragons,” I say. I withhold a few facts for reasons I’d classify as ‘important to not causing an emotional breakdown’. “I’m going to talk to Twilight. You stay in here, and try to get some rest.”
Spike nods and goes back onto his bed. I, for one, hastily walk out of the room, my mind is an absolute frenzy.
Dragon Flu. In a baby dragon.
Shit.
I push open the door and slam it shut behind me. The two mares both look at me, clearly startled. “What’s wrong?” Twilight asks.
“It’s Dragon Flu,” I blurt out. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure.”
Twilight tilts her head. “What’s that?”
“It’s a rare strain of flu that only dragons can get,” I say. “In any other case, it’d just go away on its own.” I resist the urge to bask in their increasingly worried expressions. “Spike’s a baby, so there’s a good chance he’ll be dead if he isn’t given something to fight it, and I don’t know if the cure will work on him. So yeah, that sucks.”
Twilight’s eye twitches. She rushes at me, but I teleport out of the way in time to see her collide with the wall. “You said—”
“Hey!” I stomp up to her and press the beak of my mask against her muzzle. “My only obligation for being here is my payday!” I slam a hoof against Twilight’s chest. “And need I remind you that I was nearly burned alive by that little—”
Wham
A hoof strikes my cheek, sending me to the ground.
So much for the anger management classes I gave myself.
“You done being a dick now?” Twilight asks.
“Absolutely not.”
Twilight rolls her eyes, to which I respond in kind. Granted, she can’t see it, but that just means I can’t be slapped again.
“Um, I don’t mean to bother you two,” Campfire says. Her burns have almost completely healed. Damn unicorns are gonna take my business if they keep this up. “But I know a thing or two about Dragon Flu.”
I stare in utter disbelief at Campfire. She looks like the sort of peasant that I’d find working on a dirt farm. Her mane choice makes even I, the most gifted medical practitioner in all the land, flinch. I honestly feel like I’m going to catch incurable fashion dis—
“Why not prescribe an antibiotic that will combat it with cells from his flame gland?”
Holy shit, why didn’t I think of that. I open my mouth to compliment Campfire’s ingenious idea, only to quickly shut it. I can’t help but feel that I’ve heard that somewhere...
“Yeah, that’s a great idea!” Twilight says. “Starlight, you’re a genius!”
I scoff at that. To call someone who could have been used by me to burn the bodies of young serfs ‘smart’ is insulting to me…
Well, maybe to two other ponies. Maybe.
Still, I can’t shake this feeling that I’ve heard of that idea somewhere.
“Aw, it’s nothing,” Camplight says. “I just remember reading it in this really cool magazine at the supermarket.”
Holy shit. Camplight actually reads tabloid magazines.
Damn peasant books are going to kill one of my patients.
Only I’m allowed to do that!
“I’d say that I hate to be a buzzkill, but I’d be lying,” I begin, “but you can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Camplight asks. She has this look that silently screams ’why in Tartarus did you just say I look like one of your plague patients!?’. Hm. Perhaps she does, I can’t really tell. I’m too enticed by her mane. It looks like coagulated blood, only dyed. I really want to poke it.
“Well, for starters,” I begin as I stealthily levitate my doctor stick over to Camplight’s mane, “you’d have to rip the flame gland out.” I raise my pointiest stick up, a grin forming on my face. “Then, you’d have to remove the cells with some fancy magic that I never learned because I was busy stitching rats to armadillos.” I bring the doctor stick back, aiming it directly at the heart of that mane clot. “Then you’d be arrested.”
“Why exactly?” Camplight asks.
“Because the dragon’s going to be dead from internal bleeding.” I poke Camplight’s mane with each word spoken, which both mares stare at.
“Any reason why you’re doing that?” Twilight asks.
“Yeah.” I poke Twilight’s mane. “I was hoping it’d pop like a boil.”
“This is no time for games!” Twilight grabs my doctor stick with her magic and throws it at the wall. If it wasn’t for the fact she was royalty, I’d dump acid on her right here and now. Such an action warrants equally heinous punishment. “We need to find something that will save Spike now!”
“I’m aware of that,” I say as calmly as I possibly can. I levitate my doctor stick back over and examine it for any scratches. “My only guess, and it’s a long shot, is that you give him copious amounts of Poison Joke.”
Twilight blinked. “Why?”
“I’ve heard from other doctors that it can potentially counteract the symptoms of Dragon Flu—or at least lessen their severity.” That and it’d be hilarious to see if this kid will grow to be forty feet and rain solidified fiery death everywhere. I’d have so many patients, and with it: so much sweet, sweet medieval bitcoin.
“Are you—”
I shove a hoof in Twilight’s mouth. “Look, princess, I don’t know and I frankly don’t give a shit.” I place my doctor stick on her head and give my best genuine smile that she can’t see. It’s the thought that counts though, right? “But I saw Spike’s agony and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to help him.” I vomit in my mouth. Oh, this nice act is making me feel emotions that I shouldn’t be feeling. “So either we get that stupid flower or I take my payment and go find a new home.”
Twilight pushes my hoof out of her mouth. I can feel various fluids associated with the aftermath of having wept. It reminds me of home. “Fine.” She sighs. “Let’s go.”
I give a nod and look at Camplight. “You stay here and watch over that two foot tall volatile thingy.” I gesture to the door. “Whatever happens, make sure it doesn’t get out. I want to be able to see such an event.” It’ll be a cold day in Tartarus before I miss a group of serfs being used as bowling pins for a little green dragon.
That was a wet dream of mine growing up.
“As for you, princess.” I walk towards the front door and look back. I can just hear the dramatic music. “Let’s go flower picking.”
Twilight scoffs. That or she coughs. I can’t really tell. If she coughed, I’m charging her extra for making me enter a place as loathsome as the Everfree Forest. It’s like a peasant’s garden had a growth spurt and never stopped having it. Judging by Twilight’s eagerness to catch up to me, she agrees. I yank her by her mane towards me and throw her out the front door. She lands on her side, and gives me a look so dirty that I think she was replaced by one of those working mares I see in town from time to time.
“That wasn’t necessary,” Twilight snarls at me.
“Yes it was.” Oh, how dogmatic the princess of so-called ‘friendship’ is. “Now come on, let’s go. Time is money.” Literally. I get paid the quicker I make someone less sick. That policy of mine has made my cure-to-death ratio on par with that of fighting a hydra without any weaponry. Good thing I make them all sign contracts that hand over all their possessions if they die.
It doesn’t take long for us to arrive at the Everfree Forest. Apparently, this castle is located right near it. Strange, I would’ve thought that it’d be somewhere farther from a place that has a habit of producing dead ponies for me to poke.
“Okay, there’s a batch of Poison Joke not too far in.” Twilight walks into the forest, turning around to look at me. “You coming?”
“Yeah.” I walk forward. “I just wanted to see if you’d go in without me.” I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to poke dead royalty again.
Reluctantly, I follow the purplest purple that has ever purpled into a place that reminds me of my own personal garden. It’s also the place I tend to bury those who die on the operating table. Sadly, even my corpse pile becomes a fire hazard at times.
“So, Plague.” Ah shit, she’s talking to me. “Are you always so... um... twisted?”
“Meh.” A response worthy of an award.
“Surely there’s some ounce of good inside of you!” Twilight’s voice skewers my eardrums. The amount of bubbliness in it makes me want to file a police report. It hurts. A lot. “You’re a doctor after all.”
“Meh.” I can hear the bubbliness that once filled her deflate. It’s gratifying.
“C’mon, Doc.” Oh sweet Celestia, she called me ‘doc’. I think I just felt a brain cell cut itself. “Open up.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“I’ll give you two medieval bitcoins.”
“Fine.” I turn my head to and look her dead in the eyes. “The answer’s yes. Now give me my medieval bitcoin.”
Twilight stares blankly at me. After a few seconds, I reach into her saddle bag and take out her purse and retrieve what is rightfully mine. “Thank you, princess, for your generous donation.”
“I guess I should’ve known considering your last visit to Ponyville.”
“And I guess my theory that Peasantville houses a lot of Alzheimer’s patients was correct.”
“For the twelfth time—” Twilight pulls me over with her magic— “we do not all have Alzheimer’s!” I feel I should be more afraid, but I’m too amazed at the fact she’s kept count of how many times she’s kept count of telling me a factual lie.
“Meh.” I’m thinking I should make that my slogan.
Twilight cancels her magic grasp and sighs. “Well, can you at least tell me why you’re suddenly so willing to help Spike out?”
By that sun princess’s flank, I’m beginning to think that being stuck with that barfing dragon might’ve been less agonizing. “When I deem something beneficial to myself, I decide to actually give a damn.” I resume my stride, dragging Twilight with my magic. “Helping Spike is beneficial to me for a multitude of reasons, the primary one being the fact that it’ll make me a public figure and a household name, thus bringing me more medieval bitcoin. You are a princess, after all.”
Twilight teleports out of my magical grasp and in front of me. “So, you aren’t as heartless I imagined.”
I raise an eyebrow beneath my mask. “I’m not?”
“No, you’re just slightly under it.”
Oh, well, isn’t that just an achievement. “Thanks, princess.” I pat her on the head with my doctor stick. “Your compliment warms my heart ever so much. Why, I think I’m a better pony just knowing you hold me to such high reverence.” I trot past her, chuckling all the while.
I can also hear her grit her teeth—hard. I’ll have to be sure to show her my dentistry equipment so she knows that I can always fix a chipped tooth if necessary.
“Your sarcasm isn’t funny.” Twilight gallops up to my side.
“It may not be to you, but it helps me concentrate.”
“Really?” Twilight, once again, looks shocked. Peasants really find every revelation to be the biggest thing since Prince Blueblood’s ego. It’s as funny as it is disturbing. “How?”
“It just does.” I once more pat her on the head. Her mane is so soft. It’s enticing. Succulent. I need to take a strand to poke with my hairpoker. “Now stop asking questions. It’s taxing on my patience.”
“But I want to—”
I, once again, shove a hoof into Twilight’s mouth. I can tell that she can taste the mud that was on my hooves. Ah well, her fault for making a pony like me go into a forest. I have a tendency to get dirty. It’s part of the reason I love this job. “Unless you’re going to tell me you’re willing to let me dissect you like a frog, I suggest you be quiet.”
Twilight’s eyes narrow. I’m pretty sure she wants to go to sleep. She pushes my hoof out and spits out the gunk that was on the bottom of it. How rude. I worked very hard to have hooves that warrant extra visits to me by my patients. She walks ahead, the angriest look on her face I’ve seen so far. It’s adorable. I trail behind, admiring the potential places I could set up shop once I’ve been paid.
Too bad there’s no lake. I love dumping the dead leeches in there.
“So, princess, how much longer until we get to that flower?” I walk up to her side, looking at her still adorable expression. I can’t take her seriously. She reminds me of a filly who’s coming in for their flu shot and they’re angry at whichever surviving family member is making them get it. “I’m getting pretty concerned about the potential fire that could be consuming my bag as we speak.”
“That’s what you’re concerned about!?” Twilight asks, her eye twitching. She lets out an aroused sigh and looks at the ground. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” Don’t be, I am. I now know two princesses in Equestria that get horny thinking about callous disregard for life. Glad to see Celestia passed on her best trait to her student.
“Well, that stuff costs a lot,” I respond. “I mean, the little guy dying would be a shame too, but ya know. He’s not my problem in the long run.”
Twilight groans and rushes ahead, stopping not too long after she’d started. “Here.” She yanks some of the flowers out of the ground and throws them, where they lands at my hooves. I bow.
“Why thank you. I know I put on quite a fantastic show.” Oh, the rage in Sparkle’s eyes is satisfying.
“Just… please, do whatever you have to do and do it quick.”
Capitulation is always pleasant when it happens to royalty. I can’t discern why, but it is. “I don’t have to do jack shit,” I reply. “He just has to eat it.”
“How often should he take it?”
“Until he gets better or he falls over dead.”
Twilight looks down at the flowers and levitates them up, placing then into her saddlebag. “Well, you’re nothing if not blunt,” she says under her breath.
I smirk. “Now then, shall we head back?” I motion to the clearing behind us. “I imagine your student has had enough of being alone.”
Twilight grimaces. Lightweight. “Yeah, I... guess we should.” She trots by me looking more hesitant that I could’ve ever expected. It’s glorious.
I twirl my doctor stick above my head with my magic effortlessly. It’s a display I’d hoped would ease Twilight’s mind. I may be a soulless jerk, but I’m not a heartless one. “So, that student of yours,” I begin, “is she good with Spike?”
“Yeah.” A smile slowly etches onto Twilight’s face. “They get along very well.”
“That’s good.” I really suck at small talk. Must be my bedside manner. “Has she been trying to treat his illness?”
Twilight already looks significantly more at ease. Then again, I can’t imagine she could look any less at ease than she did after being forced to speak with me. “Ever since he started to run a fever, Starlight has been by his side. She’s tried every spell she knows, and it’s done nothing to help him.” A tear runs down Twilight’s face. Normally, I’d be okay with this. Pain means it’s working. In this case, pain means I’m going to get a hoof to the jaw. “She lays awake crying all night because she feels powerless to help him.”
“That’s a shame.” It’s not. I’m not losing my jobs to a four-legged Campfire. “I’m sure she’ll be okay.” I need to prescribe her cobra venom to eliminate her from the equation.
“I hope.” Another tear runs down Twilight’s face. Screw it, I give up trying to cheer her up.
“Well, if all else fails, at least you’re immortal.” Ah, much better. Putting on that kind face is exhausting. “That’s always fun.”
Twilight lets out a huff. “Here I thought you were going to be kind.”
“I was trying, but I got bored.” I take a moment to appreciate the disgusted look Twilight shoots at me. They’re among the greatest I’ve ever received. Even better than the ones Luna gave me when I treated one of her guards for an infected gash on their wing. Oh, the screams… the lovely screams. “That and seeing you cry made me think I was screwing up, and I’m not in the mood to have your tears on my clothing.”
“I’m... sorry?”
“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that your tears would ruin my clothes.” It is always satisfying to hear though. “Now c’mon, I wanna see Camplight again.”
I hear Twilight scoff behind me as I rush ahead. “It’s Starlight!” she yells, running back up to my side.
I pretend to not hear her and stop outside if the castle. “Well, it’s not on fire.” I open the door, somewhat disappointed that a backdraft didn’t roar out and claim us all, and step aside. “Royalty first.”
Twilight walks in and yanks me inside with her magic. “Gotcha.” She playfully giggles and walks off. Jerk. Only I’m allowed to pull people around. It’s how I get needles out of patients.
I stand up and, eventually, we arrive back at where the two foot tall volcano of barf resides. To Twilight’s surprise, and to my lack thereof, Camplight is laying outside in her back. She’s as charred as she was when I first lay eyes on her. I take my doctor stick and poke her.
“Hey!” she snaps.
“Hm...” I poke her a few more times, each one resulting in the same grouchy response. “I think she’s dead and the nerves are still functioning. Peculiar. I must beat it with the stick.”
Twilight yanks me back just as I go to bring down the pointiest doctor stick that’s ever been crafted onto Deadlight. “She’s alive you ass.”
“Yeah, what Twilight said!” Deadlight yells, standing up. She rests herself against the wall and stares at her. “So, as you can maybe see if the good doctor’s ego isn’t blocking it, I’m… going to need more of that cream... and your magic.” She slides down, moaning the entire time. It’s hot. Quite literally. Her breath is ridiculously warm. I think she’s becoming part dragon. “I really hope you got the flower...”
“No, I ate it and Twilight burned it all.” I laugh. “Yes, we got it and I’ll now take my pay.”
Twilight shoots me the glare to end all glares. It doesn’t phase me. “Only if it works.”
I groan. Being stuck here any longer and I’m afraid I’ll become as much of a peasant as her. A truly horrific thought. “Fine.” I take the flowers and walk to the door. I can feel an unfathomably brutal heat radiate from the other side. Turning around, I deadpan, “Fix it.”
Twilight casts a spell and then pushes me through the door with her magic, slamming the door shut once I’m a few inches inside. Charmer. I look over to see a saturated Spike, sitting on a saturated bed inside a saturated room. I may be a doctor, but I doubt I’ll be prepared for whatever Dragon Flu mutates into when the one ill with it is exposed to the cold. Perhaps I can test that whenever I find a new home.
I cast a spell that quickly dries up Spike and his bed, much to his delight. I can tell he’s delighted because of the extraordinary ability I possess called common sense. With that, I walk over to Spike and take out the Poison Joke. “Kid, I know this’ll sound stupid, and it is, but this—” I hold up the flower— “will help you feel better.” I seriously hope he didn’t hear me earlier say there’s only a chance.
“Don’t you mean there’s a chance that it will help me?”
Celestia please shoot me and send my corpse to the damn moon. “No, it will.” I lean forward and press the beak of my mask against his nose. “Now, open your mouth or I’m going to force this into it and down your throat.”
“Y-yes, mister.” Spike takes the Poison Joke and devours it. To my delight, his color rapidly changes to purple. He looks down at his body, starry eyed. “Oh my gosh!” Spike leaps up and throws arms around me. “Than—”
“Get your grubby hands off of me before I throw you where I put my used syringes you peasant.”
Spike hastily backs off and jumps off the bed and out of the room. “Twilight!”
I regret opening my mouth about this stupid flower.
Outside, I can hear a few cries of joys, which is quickly followed by the clopping of hooves. Then, I find myself on the bed.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Twilight embraces me in an all-consuming hug. It hurts.
“You’re welcome.” Just go with it. Let them have their joy. You already took it from Spike, might as well let the royal pain in the ass have it. “It’s all in a day’s work, Twilight.”
“And from the bottom of my heart.” Deadlight walks up to the bed and looks down at me. Yet again, her burns are mostly healed. Now I’m just indignant beneath my scary mask. “Thank you for helping my friends.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” I wave a hoof dismissively. “I’m the greatest doctor ever and please just let me go. I want to go poke my dead body collection... wait.” I sigh. “I can’t go back.”
“Why not?” Twilight finally lets me go and sits up. “Did something happen to your home?”
“I beat the ticket colt upside the head with my doctor stick.” I twirl said doctor stick proudly. “He was stupid and thought charging me some medieval bitcoin was a good idea. So, I paid him as I saw fit.”
Twilight gasps. Shit, she’s gonna turn me in.
“Well, let me pardon you!”
What.
Twilight quickly writes something down on a piece of parchment and hands it to me. “Here, this’ll force them to drop all charges.”
I grab the letter. It’s a lot of legal nonsense that I’m pretty sure my brother, Law Doctor, would understand. Too bad he’s dead. “Thanks, I’ll be sure to accommodate you with another visit when I inevitably am arrested for beating the local bar owner with something.”
“Yeah, this is a one time thing.”
“Shit.” I stand up and grab my bag.”Well, take that crap whenever you need to.” I turn to face the trio. “Also, just send me my pay in the mail.”
Twilight narrows her eyes. “That pardon was your pay.”
“Oh.” Damn it, that medieval bitcoin was the only reason I took this job. “Well, if Spike doesn’t get better, just have Celestia send me another letter and I’ll see what I can do.” As much as I hope he doesn’t, a small part me hopes he does. It’d be nice to say that I’ve done some good in my thirty years of living.
I turn away from the group and leave the castle. Oh how wonderful it is to have escaped that place in one piece. I walk to the train station, arriving a little while later. I walk up to the ticket colt, resisting the urge to beat him upside the head. No, instead, I reluctantly hand over twenty medieval bitcoins for a ticket. It hurts to see it go.
It hurts even more to once again be surrounded by peasants. Kill me.
Some time later, I arrive back at my hometown of Doctorville. I don’t actually know the name as the sign was burned for warmth when I was born. It’s not the worst looking town I’ve ever seen, but it’s far from the best. It’s somewhere between Peasantville and Shitsville. Depends on one’s perspective I guess.
I’m greeted by a few royal guards at the train station. The leader of the group immediately asks, “Got the letter?” I take it out. He quickly reads it over before burning it. “It’s legitimate.” He motions for me to follow and I do.
I see several unhappy serfs looking on, all shooting me what I can only assume are intended to be death stares. They’re laughable. I also think they’re the ticket colts family members. They all look inbred. That or they’re just really ugly. In spite of that, I wave to them. One of them, a mare with a coat that reminds me of a body that’s in an advanced state of decomposition, levitates up a rock no larger than a cupcake and throws it at me. “This is for my brother you sack of shit!”
How uncouth. I quickly take out my doctor stick and swing, sending the rock back. It strikes her snout and she falls to the ground. Blood paints the earth beneath her. It’s the sort of sight that I find unbelievably electrifying.
One of the guards rushes to the mare’s side and begins to question her, while two others hold back the family. They apparently think I started this. I silently laugh and follow two other guards, who continue to lead me home. I’ll be sure to deny the family my services should they get sick. Celestia knows the one who’s salting the earth is going to need it. Oh well, maybe the doctor who stitched some ponies together can help her.
Alas, that’s not my problem. I receive more than a few death stares on the way back. Though, to my delight, many ponies cheer at my arrival. Good to see I’m still revered as a master of medicine
Before long, I have arrived back at my humble abode. I turn to the guards and say, “Thank you for your service, gentlecolts.”
They respond by leaving without a word.
“Guess they’re still angry about when I gave Celestia her physical.” I walk into my castle, a free stallion and satisfied at my public display of dominance. “Ah, it’s good to be home.” I place my bag near the door and walk over to my leather couch, letting out a sigh of happiness as I hit the cushion. I take off my mask and rest it on the coffee table so it’s staring at me. I feel… naked without it, but it’s a necessary evil. The heat inside of it is a nightmare.
Though, above all else, I can’t help but yearn for one thing. It’s been bugging me ever since I got onto that the train. It’s been nagging at me ever since I departed it. It’s eaten away at me while I watched that stupid mare bleed like a pony who suffered a terrible magical accident. It’s weighed on my mind while I waved to those stared and cheered as I walked home.
“I wish I had a dragon to poke…” I sigh. “If only I’d prescribed ethanol.”
