“Oh, hello there. I was just starting my work, but I can spare some time for you. Please, sit down.”
“…”
“What was that?”
“…”
“You need water? Water is out the door and to the left, next to the wall poster with the galloping horse on it. There should be a corporate watering hole there.”
After the creature left, the room returned to its typical state again, housing only a single, unusually dressed, occupant. He was a writer, and today was a normal day for journalism. He wasn't a journalist; his pretending only went so far. Wearing a newspaper hat on his head and Real 10D glasses from the local theater on his face, he scribbled scribbles onto his notepad. His boss said that he was a "Martian tasked with the honorable goal of relocating any and all displaced creatures." He thought of himself as a fine connoisseur of pizza and beer, able to taste the subtle differences between Earth tomatoes and Martian tomatoes.
He looked upwards at the plaque on the wall, which chimed the company motto every hour: "No cartoon or 3-D model shall be discriminated against, even if it was texture-less, comprised of crayon, or written on notebook paper!"
Apparently another human down on Earth had, in his moment of uncontrolled rage, lit an entire house on fire with a lego flamethrower he borrowed from his friend. He was 5 years old. His mother, who had just gone to the daycare center to recieve advice on her toddler’s violent behavior, and possibly consider returning him to the Martian adoption center she got him from, came home to find the house ablaze and a cute little baby boy with a soft blue hat cackling within. She didn’t even bother about the baby, instead opting to blame her ex-husband for the deed. In the ensuing months she would sue him for 10 million dollars. He begged and pleaded day after day, but she held firm. She was a greedy woman. She got her settlement, and later appeared on Dr. Martian to discuss her new-found sense of power. In the end, karma caught up with her and she perished in a horrible space accident, when she tried to show her fellow friends that she could easily down 15 rounds of Martian Beer, which, as most Martians knew, contained a poison lethal to the human body but absolutely stimulating to the Martian one. In fact, in new age James Bond movies, all of his weapons contained martian beer. His shoes, his gun, and even his hat contained lethal Martian Beer. In real life, the actor for James Bond, Bobby Marty, had Martian Beer in a small metal casing embedded in his arm in case he was stopped by fans on the street. He also Martian Beer next to his bed in case fangirls and fanboys were hiding in the dark.
Of course, that was another long and pointless story to be told. The sole occupant of “the room,” or that’s what he called it, was named Tom Perfect. His real name, in the local Martian dialect of his hometown near Olympus Mons, was more like “Argh-Lagh-Palrghm,” but Tom Perfect was a name created by his parents in order for him to fit in to the lifestyle of an Earthling. He looked just like a human, except for a few things here and there: his doctors could only do so much for such an ugly creature. His ears were too long, he had a pot belly, and he could not stop drinking and driving. As most humans didn’t know, Martians thrive on drinking. In fact, the winner of this year’s NASCAR race was in fact a Martian who was drinking and driving. The power of beer for their species is to stimulate their body and give them anything they touch ultra speed. In fact, after downing 200 cans of beer, Tom's best friend, Ah-mung-dang, managed to beat light in a race. Light, in its surprise, began drinking beer in order to become as great as Ah-mung-dang.
The client came back as Tom was getting ready to have his afternoon nap. The client nudged Tom, and he awoke quickly.
“Yes?” he asked.
The client just stood there, since it was incapable of Martian Speech. It was one of those two-dimensional creatures, and it was so oddly colored that Tom really wondered whether their god was a true almighty, omnipotent, omnipresent being, or a 5-year old with a Build-a-universe kit. Tom started up his computer, an old steam-powered behemoth that would make any steampunker back on earth squeal. In fact, if Tom put his creation on Deviantart.com, given that Deviantart was somehow brought back to life after it became defunct and shut down a century ago, he would have a front page seat for weeks and millions of squealing boys and girls commenting on his page. People on video sites would place Tom's name in their videos and suddenly have double the views. Tom would have felt more satisfied about his life had that happened.
Tom fired up his word-processing software. He plugged a cable into the USB port and the receiver in his head. Today's technology would link a computer and any accessory from any distance, but Tom preferred to ram the USB port into his computer. The microphone at the foot of Tom's desk would record and translate all that the creature had to say.
The client began talking and the receiver embedded in Tom’s ear did the rest.
“Yes, yes, okay." Tom nodded.
Tom began his beautiful symphony of clicks and clacks on his keyboard, not because he was typing, but because it reminded him of the nostalgic times of before. He was a classic car collector, classic human collector, and classic spaceship collector. He stole a Saturn V rocket, just for the heck of it.
“Okay, so what I’m hearing is that you live in a place called... Say again?”
“Neigh-squeak-neigh-neigh-neigh,” she said.
Tom waited for the software to catch up.
“Equestria,” said the software coolly. Tom could choose between many voices to voice his translations, but he loved Microsoft Sam the best. He just had a beautiful retro quality to his voice. Microsoft Sam’s mother would be so proud.
“Equestria Equestria Equestria,” Microsoft Sam screamed. Tom told the client to be quiet while he looked it up on the Encyclopedia Galactica. His company wouldn’t allow any employees to install any version of the Hitchhikers’ guide although it was certainly 10 times better. They wouldn’t even let Tom install the final version of Wikipedia before it too, like Deviantart, became defunct. It was only 300 Terabytes. It would not be much of a hassle to download at all.
Tom finally found the article after 15 minutes of sorting through irrelevant data. According to the article, Equestria was a 2-dimensional land situated in an unknown star system. Explorer data about the planet and surrounding system are scant.
According to Saturday-Evening Cartoons President Jon Yeley, who also happened to be the director of the 2-dimensional exploration space agency, or 2DESA for short, there is an infinite number of cartoon worlds. A land of 2-dimensional, vividly colored ponies are only one of many. Of course there was a huge backlash to this news, mainly from the people who wanted to see Sonic the hedgehog, Ash Ketchum, and Naruto, but the government slashed the agency's funding right as it prepared for a century long journey into 2-D space, and the agency died.
Tom was impressed. His client somehow got its butt all the way from Equestria to here.
“So uh, what brings you here?” Tom asked.
“Magic. I ain’t gotta explain anything,” the client responded through Microsoft Sam.
“And your name is?”
“Well I’m the great and powerful Trixie. I thought you knew! Across the eight lands of Equestria, everyone is familiar with my glorious name!”
