A Bug in the Pipe

by Raugos

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Changelings, Original Character
Length: 6511

It's not everyday that you have a changeling showing up as your plumber.

Having your housemate call the plumber is pretty normal.

Having a changeling show up as the plumber is significantly less normal.

Inspired by Admiral Biscuit's writing challenge.

Published 2019-11-24 18:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-11-24 18:50:02 UTC

Chapter 1

There was a pony on the porch.

Or, at least, I thought it was a pony.

It certainly had the right shape and size, based on what I’d seen on TV and the pictures posted everywhere online once they’d started crossing over from the… warp gate? Portals?

Point is, they’re supposedly from another universe, and even though I’ve never met one in person before, I at least know that they’re supposed to be fluffy and adorable as all heck.

This one?

This one looks like the kind of thing you’d see stalking and disembowelling a bunch of scientists in a secret underground lab or an abandoned space station. The result of some deranged attempt to cross a pony with a hornet and maybe a fighting fish—the iridescent fins on the back of its head and neck admittedly looks gorgeous, though. And, okay, maybe it’s got the cute predator look down pat with those big blue eyes and that toothy smile.

The size helped, too. Not counting the horn, its head only came up to chest height, and I figured that it didn’t weigh much more than a skinny person, so we were probably comparable in terms of body mass. It would’ve been a whole lot scarier if it’d been the size of a regular horse.

But still… it’s all greyish-black and unlike any pony I’d ever seen. Maybe it had a disease or a birth defect? Those holes in its legs did not look healthy. Or was it under a curse? They did mention magic and stuff on the other side of the portals.

I tried to sound as casual as possible when I spoke; didn’t want to hurt its feelings if there really was something wrong with it.

“Uh, hi? Can I help you?”

“Sure can!” A notepad floated up in front of its muzzle, glowing softly with green light. Its curved horn glowed, too. “I got a call from a Mister McKeever about a clogged shower and backed-up toilet. Is this the place?”

“Oh.” I blinked, remembering the problems that currently plagued the bathroom. “That’d be my housemate, yeah. But why—wait a sec, you’re the plumber?”

Its grin widened as it stuffed the notepad into a pocket. “Bingo. I’m Larynx, but you can call me Larry. Nice to meet you!”

“Uh, Riley. Nice to meet you, too.”

I gingerly shook his outstretched hoof and forced out a smile whilst my brain scrambled to get everything in order. With a name like that, I assumed that it was either male or wanted to be known as such. Only then did I notice that he was wearing a blue collared shirt with the sleeves rolled right up to the upper half of his front legs. It had a pair of slits down the back to accommodate his folded wings, which partially hid a horsey-style tool belt fastened around his waist. They looked real enough, so it probably wasn’t a prank…

No pants, though. Ponies apparently weren’t much into them.

Larry tilted his head, still smiling. “May I come in?”

Stupid brain, it’s just an interdimensional alien on your doorstep. Get back into gear!

“Sorry!” I quickly released his hoof and backed away from the door. “Right this way.”

I swear I felt like Larry’s eyes were drilling into my back the whole way to the bathroom, and it didn’t help that my brain was working me into a frenzy worrying about what kind of awful first impression I was giving him. Ponies have been on Earth for years now, and there I was acting like some backwater bumpkin who couldn’t figure out if their guest was imaginary or not.

James really should’ve given me a heads-up on this, unless he also hadn’t known that the plumber wasn’t going to be human. And since he and Tessa were going to be out all day, I couldn’t count on them coming to my rescue at any point.

Halfway up the stairs, I decided to come clean.

I slowed to a stop and turned to face him. “I’ve, uh, never met an Equestrian before. My housemate didn’t tell me we were hiring one today.”

“I can tell.”

“Right.” I swallowed to wet my throat. “So, please don’t be offended, but are you a different type of pony from the ones on the news? I’ve never seen any pony like you before.”

He grinned. “Changeling. Not really a pony, but close enough. Big thing that sets us apart from them is that we’re shapeshifters, aside from looking and breeding like bugs.”

“Shapeshifters? You mean like… like Martian Manhunter?”

Too late, I realised that he might not even know who I was talking about. Did Equestrians ever dabble in Earth’s pop culture? Did ponies read comics or watch movies?

Thankfully, he confirmed that little titbit with a nod. “I was about to say Mystique, but that guy’s a better analogue. Want a demonstration?”

“Sure.”

He raised his right foreleg, and I recoiled a little when it flashed like a match being ignited.

The green flames quickly dissipated, leaving a fuzzy, bright-pink foreleg connected to his shoulder. Another flash, and the hoof became a human hand, and he wiggled his fingers at me whilst smirking like a magician showing off tricks to a confused kid. Admittedly, I might’ve looked like one; the hand thing was a little creepy, but also kind of impressive at the same time.

“I can make myself look like a pony, if that makes you more comfortable,” he said as his foreleg fizzled back into its normal shape and colour. “Some folks prefer it that way, especially if they’ve got little children or pets in the house.”

Was it racist to ask changelings to accommodate your preferences?

Eh, can of worms to be contemplated another day.

I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. Just be yourself.”

“Can do, boss.”

Upon entering the bathroom, Larry went straight to the shower, his hooves making cartoonish clip-clop noises on the tiled floor. He peered down the shower drain whilst his horn shone a narrow beam of green light through the grating.

“Well, it’s dry now,” he said. “How long does the water usually take to drain out?”

“After it pools up? Maybe about ten, fifteen minutes? We don’t really keep track after showering.” I tried to get an angle on what he was looking at, but I really couldn’t see anything without getting in his way, so I kept my distance. “By the way, you mind if I watch?”

“Not at all. Company on the job’s always nice.” Larry frowned as he squinted at the grating. “Hmm, do any of your housemates have long hair?”

“No. Well, Tessa does, but she only uses the shower downstairs. And we all moved in just a couple of months ago, so maybe the previous residents did?”

“Uh huh.” He clicked his tongue and levitated a screwdriver from his tool belt.

It was kind of surreal to watch a screw spin that quickly and smoothly out of its hole without the accompanying whine or screech of a power tool. He placed the grating and loose screws way off in a corner where they couldn’t roll around, and then loomed right over the drain with his right foreleg hovering just a few centimetres from the hole, as if contemplating whether he should stick it in.

The pipe couldn’t be more than five or six centimetres in diameter, so there was no way he could fit his hoof into—

Larry’s foreleg transformed into a thin, flexible, tubular arm with three clawed fingers.

Okay, never mind.

His snake-like appendage slid in and out of the pipe, each time dragging up a matted wad of hair in his claws.

I grimaced and said, “Oh, that’s just gross.”

“That’s pretty normal, actually. These things have a habit of clumping up after a while,” he replied without taking his eyes off his task. His frown didn’t leave, either, as he stuck his arm deeper and deeper with each successive haul. “Hmm, odd… This still shouldn’t be enough to cause the poor drainage you described.”

I looked at the growing mound of hair and blinked. “You can’t be serious. That’s already a shitload of hair.”

In response, Larry stuck his arm into the drain pipe again, and this time went all the way in, right up to his shoulder. With his left foreleg in a kneeling position whilst his hind legs were still standing, it did leave him in the rather undignified pose of having his butt pointing up, not helped by the way he had his bluish tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. I swear, it’s like he’s being adorable on purpose…

What wasn’t adorable was the thing he pulled out of the drain pipe.

It came out with a wet, gurgling slurp, and Larry had to raise his arm all the way up to keep its full length off the floor. First thing that came to mind was a drowned, diseased weasel; it was a bulging mass of black and dirty-brown hair caked up in filmy lumps of greyish-white stuff.

“The hell is that?” I cried as I instinctively pinched my nose.

I couldn’t look away, though. There was just something exquisitely mesmerising about its grotesqueness. The whole thing must’ve choked up the drain completely, because the lumps were moulded into the dimensions of the straight pipe, and to top it all off, the lumps of whitish matter remained separate even when pressed together, so that it looked like someone had pushed a pale, hairy turd through a pipe.

“That’s what you get when you have a few years’ worth of calcified soap scum mixing with a hairball.” Larry whistled and slowly spun it around, almost as if he was admiring the damned thing. Then, he looked back at me and wiggled it like it was some prize catch. “Sorry, do you have a trash bag or something? I don’t think you’ll want me dumping this on the floor or walking through the house with it.”

I grabbed the bathroom bin and slid it over to him.

The lumpy thing went in first and thumped right to the bottom of the bin, followed by the wads of hair which thankfully covered it up. I heard Larry turning on the shower whilst I set the bin back in place—making a mental note to get rid of it before anyone comes home—and turned back to find him with a satisfied smile on his muzzle as he watched the water flow through the drain hole’s grating without pooling up.

“Perfect,” he said, before rinsing off his arm and transforming it back. A pulse of green magic ran down from his shoulder to hoof, finally coalescing into a watery sphere that splashed down into the drain, leaving his foreleg completely dry and free of gunk.

I shook my head in mock disgust. “Magic is so cheating.”

Larry waved a hoof dismissively and scoffed. “Oh, you don’t know cheating until you’ve seen what some unicorns can do back in Equestria. Transmutation, teleportation, even mind-control. It’s ridiculous compared to what a poor little bug like me can do.”

He trotted over to the toilet and peered into its watery depths. “So… what’s the problem with this one?”

“Doesn’t flush properly. Water overflows until some of it spills, but it does eventually go down. Tessa thinks her nephews might’ve dropped something in there when they visited last week, but they never admitted anything and we didn’t have much luck with the plunger or hook wire. We’ve been using the downstairs toilet ever since.”

“That the one you used?” he asked, eyeing the plunger in the corner behind the toilet bowl.

“Yup.”

Larry nodded sagely. “Well, that’s part of the problem, see. Regular suction cup plungers can’t get a good seal in the bowl. But lucky for you, I’ve got just the thing.”

A quick glance at his tool belt didn’t show me anything that remotely resembled a plunger, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t parked a car or van outside, so was he going to—

Larry waggled his eyebrows—eye ridges?—at me, transformed his hoof into a bulbous suction cup that looked like something you’d find in a sex toy shop, and stuck it right into the toilet bowl.

Yes, of course he is.

I shuddered. Even if I’d had a cleaning spell like his, doesn’t mean I would have that much of a disregard for personal hygiene when going about my chores! Seriously, I swear the cheeky bugger enjoys grossing people out. It’s the only thing that can explain that twinkle in his eye.

He pumped his foreleg slowly and deliberately, like an old hospital ventilator. I could hear the muffled gurgle of water flowing through the pipes. All the while, he kept at it with the nonchalant air of a chef stirring soup or some shit, smiling good-naturedly at me.

“You studying at the university?” he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the window, outside of which the top of the faculty’s roofing could be seen poking just above the trees.

I leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah. I’m in my second semester.”

“Cool. Like it over here?”

“It’s okay…” I said with a shrug. “People are decent enough, and I can’t complain about the food.”

“That’s good.” Larry suddenly looked me right in the eyes, his blue ones filled with a warm, earnest intensity, despite having no pupils. “You ever miss home?”

I didn’t answer immediately. Video calls and emails were easily done, but they’re not the same as being back home; the air smells different, the humidity feels off, and even the little things you normally never think of, like the texture of grass beneath your feet, just don’t match up. Sometimes, I still wake up in the middle of the night, wondering where the hell I am and then wondering what possessed me to move so far from home. And no matter how good the Wifi is around here, it’s still not going to let me hug Mum and Dad. Can’t afford to keep flying back and forth during the semester breaks, either.

He’d certainly set the mood, all right.

I took a deep breath and sighed. “Yeah, a little. It’s nice here, but I miss my family.”

Larry exhaled softly, and his slightly unfocused eyes gave me the distinct impression that he might’ve been high on something.

But the moment passed, and he nodded gravely at me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Been there, felt that—Earth is amazing, but it’s no hive of mine, either. Don’t worry too much about it; so long as you’ve got friends and family who love you, it doesn’t matter where in the world you set your hooves on.”

“Heh, thanks. I’ll try to remember that.” I folded my arms and peered more closely at him. “You said something about a hive? Are changelings like… bees? In terms of social structure, I mean.”

“Closer than you think.”

“And how does that work out for you?”

“In general? Better than most ponies and humans expect. There’s something liberating about never needing to worry about what you’re supposed to do in life, because you get instructions on what to do until the day you die. But on the other hoof, the freedom and uncertainty outside the hive is really addictive, to those with the rare mutation for independence and curiosity…”

“And… are you one of those?”

He simply winked at me.

Then, he frowned at the toilet bowl and said, “Right, the blockage isn’t clearing up. I’m going in.”

Oh, hell no.

Not that it seemed to faze him. Larry transformed his plunger foreleg into the snaky appendage again and pushed it right into the S-bend without hesitation. He was so deep in that he could easily lick the rim of the toilet bowl if he wanted to.

“Aha, there we go!”

His face then lit up with a grin as he withdrew his arm and dragged out a rubbery teddy bear—I knew it! I remember Tessa’s nephews playing with that squeaky toy—draped in wads of mushy toilet paper and… smears of other kinds of matter.

“Oh crap.”

I immediately grabbed the bathroom bin and presented it to him.

Thankfully, he used his cleaning spell to get rid of the water and toilet paper, so I didn’t have to worry about it splattering around as it went into the bin, not to mention potentially leaking filth everywhere if there was a hole in the bag. Still, I tied up the bag and resolved to take it out into the trash before it could stink up the place.

The rest, Larry dumped into the toilet, which flushed without complaint when he pulled on the handle.

I sighed as I washed my hands in the sink. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Just doing my job,” he said as he magically cleaned himself up. Then, he smiled at me and added, “Any other things you need taken care of while I’m here? Aside from plumbing, I can also handle low-key pest control, like bee hives or hornet nests. I could use a snack.”

I stared at him. “You know, I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, but I have to ask: can you actually eat bees and hornets?”

“Oh yes. Well, I’d rather not eat bees. Earth bees are very polite, if a little dense, and they usually agree to let me move their hive if I ask nicely,” he said with a chuckle. Then, his smile twisted into a scowl. “Hornets, on the other hoof, I don’t mind chowing down on. They’re rude as Tartarus, and your Earth ones have twenty-six different words for saying ‘go die’. Pardon my Prench, but buck those buckers.”

After taking a moment to process the revelation that he can supposedly talk to insects, I shook my head and said, “No, I think we’re good. No infestations that I know of.”

“All righty then, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take payment and be on my way.”

“Right. My wallet’s downstairs. Let’s go.”

I grabbed the bin bag and led the way down.

Larry politely waited in the living room whilst I disposed of the plumbing waste. After washing my hands, I went straight to my room to fish some cash out of my wallet, but I stopped short at the door and peeped across the hallway to find him casually eyeing the empty cans of coffee and crumpled bags of crisps lying around the place.

His left eye twitched.

At least a quarter of those were mine. Probably. Maybe a third, at most.

Shit, I was actually feeling guilty about the state of the house. And to a stranger, no less!

Cute little bugger must’ve put a spell on me or something.

“Umm, can I get you a drink before you go?” I found myself asking as I handed him his payment. “If I’m not keeping you from anything, that is.”

Larry reluctantly tore his eyes away from the mess and gave me a shrug. “Sure, I don’t mind. So long as it’s not alcohol or caffeine, because I’m afraid changelings aren’t very good at processing those compounds. I may still get a few calls before the day is out.”

“No worries, I’m sure I’ve got something suitable,” I said as I headed into the kitchen.

As it turned out, no, I didn’t have anything on hand.

At least, nothing that wasn’t old pizza and more coffee or energy drinks. But I’d already offered, so I’d have to apologise to James later for ransacking his side of the fridge for some orange juice and peanut butter and jelly. Can’t go wrong with those for an interdimensional guest, right?

Stealing a backwards glance, I caught him looking at me with a concerned tilt of his head, so I quickly turned my back to him and set about pouring the drinks and preparing the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before he could retract his acceptance of my poorly-planned hospitality. I was not going to be a terrible example of my species by being such a lousy host that the guest wound up excusing themselves out of pity for me!

When I turned around with the plate of sandwiches in one hand and mugs in the other, I found that he’d already hopped up onto one of the chairs and was fussing over the cracked and peeling bit of plywood at the corner of the dining table.

“Careful, there might be splinters,” I said as I set the plate and mugs down.

Only then did I notice that the peeling layer of plywood was uncharacteristically flush with the rest of the table, with only the barest outlines of the cracks visible. The tape previously holding it down was gone, crumpled into a sticky ball, which Larry casually tossed into the kitchen bin with a flick of his hoof.

I rubbed my hand over the corner and whistled at its smoothness. “Damn, you actually fixed it. Magic really is cheating.”

He chuckled. “That one’s not magic.”

I blinked a couple of times, then peered at the corner of the table again. There were traces of greenish stains around the cracks and at the rough edges of the peeling layer, where some pieces had previously chipped off and gone missing. When I pressed on it, it felt sticky.

“Natural resin,” said Larry when I turned to him. He then raised his foreleg and showed me a filmy layer of green mucus on the inside surface of one of his leg holes. “It’s normally for building the hive, but works just as well for most household furniture. It’ll be solid and waterproof in about fifteen minutes. Just don’t get any fire on it, or it’ll kick up a real stink.”

“Umm, duly noted,” I said.

We sat at right angles to one another and started munching on our sandwiches in companionable silence. At the very least, I was working under the assumption that Equestrians didn’t like talking with full mouths any more than people in general.

Halfway through my sandwich, though, I remembered that I hadn’t yet thanked him for fixing the table.

I swallowed my mouthful and washed it down with a gulp of orange juice. “By the way, thanks for fixing that.” – I waggled a finger at the corner of the table – “You just saved us the trouble of getting lost in the hardware store looking for the right kind of glue.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“How long have you been doing this gig?”

Larry chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. “Just under two months as a plumber, but I’ve got nearly a year’s experience in sewer maintenance with Brightwater.”

“Oh. So, do you actually go into—”

“Yup.”

“I see.” I bit my lip. “That’s quite the… uh…”

“Not something you’d expect an immigrant to get into, eh?”

I shook my head. “Sorry.”

He waved a hoof dismissively. “Eh, don’t be. It’s not glamorous, but it’s not that far off from what most changelings have to do every now and then in a big hive. Besides, I’m immune to practically all of your native pathogens—even anthrax and cholera—and the guys loved me because I was able get into the tightest places and personally work on the parts that they’d never be able to reach without their fancy equipment. And where they’d have to wade through muck, I can just hover or walk on the walls. I was saving them a tonne on tool and safety gear maintenance!”

“So… what happened? It doesn’t sound like you wanted to leave.”

His ears drooped. “I… kinda got my manager into trouble with all the corners we were cutting. I mean, I was never at risk of infection—they didn’t have gear that would fit me, anyway—and I never did anything to put my co-workers in danger, but Insurance was all over my manager’s flank for not following regulations to the letter, even though a lot of them were unnecessary and even silly for a changeling. I think someone higher up was also mad that he’d hired me without letting on that I wasn’t human.”

“What, were they just racist?”

“No, no, not that,” he quickly replied, waving a hoof. “They were just freaking out about the rules not being followed. My manager wanted to keep me, but his superiors insisted that I couldn’t work for the company until the policies were updated to cover changelings. Until that happened, I was too much of a legal liability. I left when I found out that it was taking them ages to make any progress—no idea if it was plain bureaucracy or someone just not liking me.”

I groaned. “Ouch. That sucks…”

“Well, it’s not all bad. I get to meet way more people with my current job!”

“Silver linings, huh?” I worked up a wry smile. “I suppose having to deal with less of our shit is a bonus as well?”

Larry snorted and waved his hoof at me. “Oh please, I have seen all the shit mankind has to offer, and let me tell you, you guys have nothing on what I’ve seen in Equestria. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but ponies poop. A lot. And don’t even get me started on the horror that passes for yak waste management. And most importantly, no matter how much of it there is, at least your organic waste isn’t capable of developing sentience.”

I pictured an amorphous mound of shit oozing out of the sewers and winced. “That’s a thing that can happen in Equestria?”

“Less often than you’d think, more often than I’d like,” he muttered. His eyes then turned a little glassy as he gazed at nothing in particular. “They really should’ve known better than to let Princess Twilight eat haunted lettuce…”

When he saw my cocked eyebrow, he chuckled nervously and added, “Let’s just say that if you ever decide to visit this place called Ponyville, be prepared for anything. And I do mean anything. Ponyville is the Chaos Capital of Equestria, and not just because Discord lives nearby. Bring a couple of friends just in case, and preferably ones who can sing.”

I had no idea if he was being literal about half the things he said, but I decided not to press for details that I wouldn’t know what to do with anyway. It’ll be ages before I can afford to go on vacation, let alone an interdimensional one.

So, I simply raised my mug towards him. “To steady jobs.”

He somehow held his mug with a single hoof and followed suit, saying, “And a lifestyle worth working for!”

We clonked our mugs together and drank.

And, oh gosh, he drank like a toddler—as in, he held the mug with both hooves and drank the same way a kid would drink from a sippy cup. I don’t know why he didn’t just use his magic for everything, but I supposed that maybe it was tiring in some other way.

Whatever the case, it’s frigging adorable. Like practically everything he does.

I want a changeling housemate.

After watching him finish off the rest of his sandwich, I drummed my fingers on the table and hoped I looked reasonably nonchalant as I voiced the little idea which had been simmering at the back of my mind.

“Larry, would you by any chance mind if I took a couple of pictures with you?”

He looked at me for a moment, apparently contemplating the idea. Then, his wings buzzed as a toothy grin split his muzzle. “Go get your camera. I love photoshoots!”

I couldn’t help grinning myself when I came back into the dining room with my phone.

We started off with simple shots, like the two of us posing at the table like old friends drinking at the bar, and so on. I realised that he was quite open to body contact as well, when he suggested taking a shot with our arms around each other’s shoulders. His skin, if that was even the proper term, felt a bit like fuzzy leather, despite having a somewhat glossy sheen.

Things got a little more creative once I started thinking out loud about what kinds of photos I could show James and Tessa.

Things like Larry turning into a small bear and sticking his head in the fridge, giving me the perfect excuse for James’ missing food, and him lying naked on the dining table in that ‘draw me like one of your French girls’ pose whilst smirking scandalously at the camera. We even took one of me sitting on the floor with my back to the oven, cringing whilst the eyeless, phallic head of a xenomorph snarled inches away from my face, drooling from both its unhinged lower jaw and a secondary mouth inlaid with razor-sharp teeth.

By the time we were done, I’d probably amassed enough photos to fill an art gallery.

“My friends are going to be so, so jealous,” I said gleefully as I reviewed one picture with a Larry-turned-Charmander sitting on my lap.

Larry finished slipping his shirt and tool belt back on and said, “Well, if they ever need anything fixed, you could always give them my number.”

I bumped his hoof with my fist. “You got it.”

Unfortunately, Larry wasn’t my housemate, and I couldn’t keep him around forever.

After tidying up the kitchen and anything else we’d moved around during our impromptu photoshoot, I motioned for us to head to the front door. But when we reached the living room, Larry immediately darted off and began picking up the trash my housemates and I had left lying around the place.

“Oh shit, no, you don’t have to do that,” I cried, waving my arms ineffectually. “I swear we’re totally capable of taking care of these ourselves!”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” he said, casually waving me off with a hoof. “In case it wasn’t already obvious, changelings are made to keep homes spick-and-span. It’s no trouble for me, really. I always enjoy seeing how much nicer a place can look after a bit of work!”

“I—oh, damn it…” I mumbled.

He sounded sincerely eager to help out, but I really had to wonder if it wasn’t because he was simply triggered by all the trash, on top of our mud-caked shoes by the door and the several-times-worn shirts and pants draped over the sofa. The growing mound of unread brochures, newspapers and free samples of random stuff next to the door didn’t help, either.

With a sigh, I resigned myself to helping from the side-line whilst his swirling magic whipped up a slow-motion tornado of cans, bags, dust bunnies and crumbs. I brought out a new bin bag for him to stuff all the trash into, and once most of the detritus was cleared up, we collected the dirty cups and plates and brought them to the kitchen for washing. The soiled clothes went right into the laundry basket.

Thankfully, Larry made no attempt to wash the clothes or dishes, or I might’ve been forced to kick him out to salvage what was left of my dignity. Even if it was bloody convenient to have such willing assistance, I was not going to put up with being nannied by a bug pony, regardless of whether it was out of pity or sheer friendliness.

We both felt a little warm and sweaty after that cleaning session, so we had ourselves one last drink of iced water before adjourning to the porch.

I offered him a tip at the door, but he simply pushed the cash back into my hand and shook his head.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but money’s not a huge deal to me,” he said with a smile. “Save up for your family or maybe go buy something nice for your friends.”

“Aww, come on, don’t be like that.” I fiddled with the notes in my hand. “You got the job done quick and even helped me clean up all the crap that’s been piling up for ages, and that’s after being a good sport with my photos and everything. I can’t just let you go without making up for it.”

He backpedalled and held up a hoof. “It’s really not neces—”

I advanced and held the extra cash out to him. “I insist.”

“But I—”

“It’s a human thing. Just take it.”

“I… oh, fine.” Larry sighed and floated the cash out of my hand and into his shirt pocket. Then, he tilted his head and gave me an oddly intense look—almost like a predator sizing up its prey. “Actually, I suppose there’s something you could do for me, if you’re really dead set on evening out the score, so to speak.”

I eyed his fangs and cautiously said, “Okay… what is it?”

Meanwhile, my brain was already running through a dozen scenarios in which his request involved blood, brains or anything else vital to my continued survival, and coming up with ways to excuse myself just in case.

“I could use a hug.”

I blinked. “Oh. That’s it?”

“It’s a changeling thing.” He shuffled on the spot and grinned sheepishly. “Hugs are a big deal in Equestria, but we don’t get them very often because of how we look.”

To be fair, hugging wouldn’t have been very high on the list of things I would’ve wanted to do with him when we first met.

But… damn if I didn’t totally get that feeling; I’ve had locals yelling at me to go back to my own country as they drove by on the road, and a few random assholes had even said it straight to my face just as I was walking past them on campus.

Those encounters still stung, despite people telling me that the opinions of strangers aren’t worth shit when it comes to things like that. I can only imagine how much more of that he probably has to put up with on Earth, and that’s not counting the possibility that he may not have an easy way to contact his folks on the other side. Even I at least have the option of making a call when I’m feeling awful and need someone to talk to.

Shrugging, I spread my arms and said, “Sure, I think I can spare a hug.”

“Awesome.”

I wasn’t quite ready to see him rear up like that, though.

Changelings—and I suppose by extension, ponies—are deceptively small when they’re on all fours. But Larry actually might’ve been taller than me if he’d bothered to stretch up to his full height whilst standing on his hind legs.

As it was, he had no difficulty wrapping his forelegs around my chest, though he did lean with quite a bit of his weight against me because he wasn’t built to stand completely upright like a human. I suppose it was similar to how big dogs are able to rear up and hug people, though you definitely wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of those without fair warning.

“Oof!”

I wobbled and took a couple of steps back, bracing against his weight to avoid toppling over as I hugged him back, taking care not to crumple his wings. And—

Whoa.

It’s the kind of hug that makes you feel like a kid again.

He was warm and surprisingly pliable—as opposed to the hard and bony chest I’d expected to feel underneath his shirt—rather like a big stuffed toy, though firmer and definitely with some muscle underneath all that fuzziness. He’s probably putting those shapeshifting powers to good use—and probably with a fair bit of practice, too—because damn if it isn’t comfy to squeeze him and have him squeeze back.

“You’re a good person, Riley. I had a great day meeting you,” he said.

“Right back at you, Larynx. Thanks for fixing our stuff and everything.”

Larry practically glowed when we released each other. His eyes had taken on a more vibrant blue hue, his translucent wings shimmered with the colours of the rainbow in the afternoon sun, and I could’ve sworn that he’d even filled out a bit, because that shirt suddenly looked a little tight on him. Must’ve been a side effect of shapeshifting to make himself puffier and nicer to hug, I supposed.

“If you need anything else fixed, just give m—urp!” He blinked, and his wings blushed with yellow-green hues as he covered his mouth to stifle another belch. “Heh, sorry. Those were good sandwiches. As I was saying, just give me a call if you need anything. See you around!”

“Yeah, take care.”

I waved goodbye and watched as he trotted out onto the sidewalk. He then leapt into the air, wings blurred and buzzing as he gained altitude, until he just looked like an oversized, long-legged beetle in the sky.

Well… that was quite an experience.

If meeting a regular Equestrian pony was just as interesting, then it was no wonder that the people who’d done so couldn’t stop talking about them. I probably should count myself really lucky to have met a changeling instead, because you really didn’t hear about them on the news at all.

I yawned and stretched, feeling strangely worn out. Not in the physical sense, but more like I’d just binge-watched a whole TV series and just needed a lie-down to process the emotional roller coaster ride of the finale, up to and including the realisation that it was over and I wasn’t getting any more.

However, just as I turned to go back inside, I felt a lump inside the pocket of my pants and stopped.

I stuck my hand in and fished out a wad of folded notes.

It took me a couple of seconds staring at it before the realisation finally hit me: it was the same amount as the tip I’d given him.

“Son of a—”

I whirled around and glared at the shrinking dark speck in the sky.

The cheeky bastard had reverse-pickpocketed me!

Okay, well-played, Larry, I thought.

Too late to do anything about it, though. I was going to have to wait until the next time we met.

Sighing, I plodded back to my room and crawled right into bed. I rarely napped in the afternoon, but my pillows were practically singing siren songs to me at this point. There was a pleasant feeling of lethargy pulsing through my limbs that reminded me of the kind of drowsiness induced by antihistamines.

I was out like a light before I could even finish thinking back on everything that’d happened.

Best nap I ever had.

Author's Note

The clogged shower is based on real events in student accommodations. The only difference is that I wasn't around to witness the... extraction process.

I made the report, went to class, and came back to find that monstrosity in the bathroom bin.

Well, the other difference is that the plumber wasn't a changeling. I think. I never saw him.