Fetlock peeked out from the backroom, blowing her hair free of her vision for the moment. "What is our next appointment?"

Gudrun, her stern griffon secretary, barely glanced aside at the day's schedule as she typed with deft fingers. "You're seeing a low-level boss from the west side."

Fetlock rolled her eyes even as her mane fell back down in front of them. "The price we pay for staying in business. Tell me when he arrives."

Gudrun kept typing, only taking silent note when Fetlock returned to the lab. She didn't have long to wait between interruptions. A seedy-looking stallion sauntered in, a cigar dangling from his lips and two larger thugs flanking him.

"This where that pony-making doctor works?" asked the one in front, advancing slightly past his protection.

Gudrun did not reply, instead reaching to press the intercom's button. "Your next client has arrived." Why Fetlock insisted on speaking personally when they had that installed, Gudrun could not be certain.

"Send them in," came Fetlock's voice through the tinny speaker.

Gudrun waved a talon at the door that led to the back. "One at a time. The others can wait here."

"Yeah, wait here, fellas. I ain't afraid of no doc or nothin'," assured the criminal boss as he sauntered forward, one hoof raised to dust off his sharp suit from what little dust he imagined it might have. He pushed the door open and passed through a narrow but short hallway before finding what looked to be an abandoned warehouse that had been repurposed for the job.

All manner of runes and lines ran along the walls and floors, all leading to one central design. Not far from that dizzying array of arcane magic stood a mare with a back and blue mane that hung over her eyes. She was making marks on a whiteboard, but turned quickly the moment he was in view. "Welcome," she called. "Come closer."

He avoided stepping on anything that looked magic, not wanting to be zapped in case they did that kind of thing. "Doctor Fetlock, right?" The earth pony mob leader eyes the unicorn sorcerer doubtfully. "I hear through the grapevine you can make missing talent not be a problem no more."

"That is my primary talent." Fetlock waved a hoof as she sat down. "I can also find missing lovers and family members, if you have any need for that. Would you like a mare that thinks of little else but being yours?"

He shook his head almost violently. "Let's not mix business and pleasure, and this is for business. Our last unicorn had, uh... issues, you see. So we needs a new one. They need to be good!"

"Good at?"

"Magic, what else?" He snorted with irritation. "She needs to be able to cast spells. You'd think that would be what all unicorns do, but nah, not most of 'em, so that's important."

Fetlock frowned with some thought. Most unicorns that could cast spells would be noticed if they wandered around Manehattan. "One moment." She turned to a filing cabinet and her magic had the first drawer pulled free as she approached it. She began leafing through her considerable index of the population of Equestria, trying to find a match. "Rarity? No. Twilight? Triple no."

She paused to blow her hair out of the way. "Trixie... She has talent, is showing advancement, and is known to travel. No one will be too surprised to see her anywhere." She pulled the folder free from the others in her magic.

"You found one?" asked the mob boss. "Is she good?"

"I believe I did, but before we go further, there is a matter of payment." She held out a hoof expectantly.

He swatted it aside. "This is a favor to the pony that's keeping you away from the cops and an angry princess, I heard. He said I get one, no charge."

Fetlock sagged in place, grunting softly. "Of course... Of course, right." She half turned away. "I will do my best then, but I will remind that if you're not paying, you can't get a refund. Leave your contact information at the front desk and I'll reach out when your pony is located."

"She better be good," he grumbled, turning away from Fetlock. "I didn't come all this way for nothin'."

Fetlock watched him half-storm off before her eyes returned to the folder she held in her magic. "Trixie Lulamoon, sunk to involvement in crime. I've heard stranger things..." She began setting things up to find and summon the perfect human soul to inhabit the new Trixie.

He pushed the door of his car closed and turned for his apartment building. He had made it. With a relieved smile, he moved quickly, if tiredly, to the elevator to get to his apartment. "Stupid extended shifts," he grumbled to himself as he went. The elevator was empty the whole way. It was more often than not.

He navigated down the straight hallway and veered to the left, arriving at his room. He had his keys out before reaching the door and barely paused to get it open. Once inside, he kicked the door shut behind himself and zeroed in on his fridge. He dug out a can of Mountain Dew, popped it open, and nursed it on his way to his true target, his computer.

It was time to unpack. "No groceries here." With a click, he was transported to the wide wonders of the Internet. "Let's see what's going on."

He checked his mail and browsed around a bit. The news was bad, as always, and he tried to push it aside. Work was annoying enough, he didn't want to stress at home. Oh. He found a lovely rendition of Trixie, looking mysterious. Trixie wasn't his favorite pony, but she was cool. He began a trek of finding lots of new pictures of her, and she was looking good.

"Magic, being famous, going wherever you wanted..." he tallied out loud. "You have it all, Trixie. I wish I had half your bravery. If I stood up for myself like that, I wouldn't be here, bottom-rung at a grocery." He rolled his eyes and clicked on, checking on some fanfic updates.

Ding!

He'd received a message from a friend he hadn't heard from in a while. How nice.

Hey man, how's it going?

He considered only a brief moment before quickly typing a reply.

Doing just fine. What's new?

I found the most amazing thing. What would you say if I told you that you could be Trixie if you wanted to be?

I'd say I'm not interested in one of those hypnosis videos.

Ha Ha, no, really! The real deal, fur, tail, horn, magic!

This is kind of odd, even for you.

He frowned a little. Was his friend being legit? What if he was? What if he blew a chance at something... interesting...

What's the catch?

No catch! Well, one catch...

"Knew it."

Not a big one though. You have to do a few favors, you know, something the Great and Powerful can do super easy,
then it's all yours. You, Trixie.

What if I change my mind?

You won't! I mean, what do you want to do, be a magic unicorn, or help people stuff food in bags forever?

A chill ran down his spine. That logic was much harder to argue.

If you can do this, why are you even here?

Who says I am?

He sank back in his chair. Was his friend seriously saying he was reaching out from Equestria? Still... Alright, it was most likely a joke and the moment he said alright, it would be all laughter and ribbing, but if he said no, he'd wonder about it forever...

Okay.

Awesome, you're in?

I said okay! What do I have to do?

Get the package.

What package?

The one in front of your door.

He didn't remember seeing any packages on his way in. Still, he rose with his can of dew, sipping it on the way back to the front of his apartment. He pulled the door open and... there is was, a box with shipping labels and everything, as if some delivery man had rushed in just then, put it down, and ran away without knocking.

He picked up the box cautiously, glancing left and right as he did so. There was no one there. It was the same, usually empty, hall he lived in. Slowly, he retreated back inside and closed the door. Unnerved, he took the time to thoroughly lock the door.

The box was very light. Was it empty? He put it down on the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife, slicing its tape easily. Inside was exactly one hat. It was conical, purple, and gaudy. It was Trixie's hat.

Ding.

A message had come on his computer. He took the hat and hurried back to his computer, where a message from the same friend waited just under the rest of the conversation.

Alright, now just put it on.

Did his friend have a camera in his place?! He typed almost angrily, speaking outloud as he typed, "How do you even know I have it?!"

Magic. Horse. Do you want it? Put it on. 🐎

Unknown to him, the power that Doctor Fetlock was weaving had decided he was a good match, and was doing its part to pull him in. Never against his will, it didn't work that way. He had to accept the offer.

He turned the hat around in his hands. The material was soft and nicely made. It glimmered in the light, being made to catch the eye and shine easily. He could imagine Trixie, if she was real, approving easily of the hat. But it wasn't a cartoon. It was a very real hat he held in his mildly shaking hands.

It doesn't bite.

He looked over at the ding and huffed. He was being watched. That was so weird. He reached over and tapped lightly.

You'd better not be recording this for Youtube laughs. Where are you anyway?

No Youtube, promise. Go on. Trixie's waiting for you.

He raised the cap high, looking into its bottom. He expected nothing, darkness, but that wasn't what he saw. There was a dim image there, as if on the other end of a long tunnel. He saw a pony, but it wasn't Trixie. A unicorn with black and blue mane was seated. Was she saying something? Her lips were moving, he was fairly sure, but he couldn't hear it.

It was a pony, a real pony. Was it that easy? With a little hysteric laugh, he thrust a hand into that hole, as if he could reach the magic pony he saw.

His arm came alive with a thousand angry needles, paresthesia running wild along the limb with alternating waves of heat and chill.

Wear it!

He wasn't paying too much attention to the screen. He was too busy yanking his arm back with a curse. His arm had not made the trip unharmed. Though the tingles started to fade away, he could see his nails had grown thicker considerably. The distance his fingers could spread had been reduced, as if they were paralyzed from the trip and clutched together.

He dropped the hat limply and grabbed for his wrist with his good hand. The two together made the changes all the more drastic in sight. His changed arm really had been bent out of shape. Had he broken something?!

Put it on. Put it on and everything will be alright, I promise.

He didn't feel pain, even if it looked like he should. That's when it hit him. His arm was being reshaped. He had the wrist that belonged on a horse. His fingers were in a halfway point between fingers and hooves. If he had just left his arm in there, he would have ended up with a horse's foreleg attached to him.

But... wasn't that the point?

The gravity of what he was looking at was hard to escape. It was real. The offer was real. He could put on the hat. He could go to Equestria. He could never push a bunch of half-rusted shopping carts around a parking lot ever again...

He just had to put on a hat. How hard is that?

On the other... hoof? He had already been spindled. If he didn't put on the hat, he'd have to show up to work a literal cripple. He'd be worse off than he'd started, possibly forever.

Magic horse, or gimped human...

The choice seemed easy, when he put it in perspective.

Author's Note

Welcome back to a new story involving the lovely and terrible Doctor Fetlock, though she won't be in too much of it. This is more about our human victim and his adventures and typos in the form of Trixie.

I promised my patreon a detailed transformation scene, so expect that next chapter. There will likely be tawdry bits, but this is not a clopfic, but we aren't shying away from details either. Let's turn this human man into a mare!

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