The Seventh Sense

Chapters

Of hangovers, and broken minds.
Of hangovers, and brokener minds
I think I need a drink...
Mostly harmless
Well howdy doody
The sickest sugar cube
Motion; sickness intensifies
Horrible baboon makes himself known to science
A great name for the greatest university.
The Planar Crucible
Kiwi's big SKREEE
The freshest filly
Chaos and quantum
The Great and Powerful pancake hoover

Of hangovers, and broken minds.

As conciousness began its daily conquest, I became gradually aware of an intense, and unpleasantly familiar nausia.

Wow... I... wow, ok, maybe an unfamiliar nausia. Definitely much worse than usual, at least. How much had I drunk, last night...? A flagrantly excessive quantity, if the pounding between my ears was anything to go by.

Salvation awaited me in the bathroom cupboard, and salvation's name was Ibuprofen. I lay motionless, languishing feebly until I was satisfied that salvation was probably worth the effort. All I needed to do now, was to work up the courage to actually move.

With the happy thought of pharmaceuticals in mind, I opened my eyes, rolled out of bush, and smashed heavily into mossy rock. Huh. That's definitely new. Normally, it's 'open eyes, roll out of bed, and smash heavily into carpeted floor'.

All thoughts of salvation disappeared as I gazed blearily about. Yes... yes, that's definitely new. Last time I checked, my bedroom didn't have a horizon.

Understanding dawned finally. Bloody bastarding Sean. Just my luck. Clearly, the world's worst roommate, has dragged my unconsious carcass from the comfort of its bed, and launched it unceremoniously into the wilderness. I looked down at myself. I wasn't naked, at least. A slack set of pyjama bottoms and an unwashed bathrobe that wasn't mine, were more than sufficient to preserve my modesty. Ah well, I suppose he could've done worse, the twat. Last stunt he pulled, saw me duct taped to a lamp post. That time, without clothes. At least now, I have a bathrobe that smells of arse. Thank the heavens for small mercies, I guess. I suppose it'd come as a massive surprise to you to hear that this guy is also my best mate, and he pulls this sort of nonsense with tiresome regularity.

Man, this was such a pisstake. I'd show him. I'd show the bastard. I'm made of pretty stern stuff. When I get home, I'll raid his side of the fridge, and spit in his shower gel.

That thought raised a pretty fair point actually... where was home? I glared about me, searching for some landmark, some familiar place by which I might begin to orientate myself. There was plenty to see, and to my chagrin, none of it was particularly comforting.

The most immediate landmark, was a craggy mountain - not a particularly large one, but slab sided and snow capped - imposing enough, as mountains go. It's a start, and not a good one, at that... after all, the distance from my house to the nearest mountain was... what... twenty something miles, I think? And besides, the mountain I had in mind looked sod all like the one in front of me. 'Excellent' I thought to myself, 'I really am in the arse end of nowhere'.

Resigned to my predicament, I sat down to nurse my head (after all, I still had a hangover), and contented myself by looking around a bit more. Just for something to do, y'know? I mean, I was absolutely certain by this point that Sean would give me an hour or so to stew in this admittedly delightful bit of countryside, and then leap out from behind a tree, and come bounding over, hoohoo haha'ing to himself over a job well done.

I peered morosely at a murky copse of nearby trees, searching for likely suspects. Yes, there were definitely a few there that were uuh... 'broad' enough to hide Sean's jovial bulk. I raised a middle finger at them, incase he was watching me from their shadows.

After a little more morose peering, I'd spotted a few more trees. Indeed, a whole forest of them - dense, and foreboding. From their shadows, waddled a diminuitive dog made of tree.

Ah, yes. A dog. Made of tree. Immediately, it made the top of my list of things that were both new, and disconcerting. It stared at me woodenly, as if to prove a point. I stared back, mildly appalled. 'That just isn't possible' I thought to myself, as with a satisfying little *pop*, it winked out of existence.

No.

No, absolutely not.

My mind spent a moment basking in outright disbelief. 'Well bugger me', I heard myself think. 'The bugger literally disappeared! I SAW it! Or... rather I didn't see it?' I mulled that revelation over for a while, staring fixedly at the spot the bush dog had, until moments ago, very definitely occupied. Nothing just... disappears into thin air like that, surely? 'That just isn't possible', I thought to myself.

*...pop*

'It's back again' my unhappy brain observed. For its part the tree dog (who indeed had reappeared) contrived to look uncertain. Or as uncertain as something can, with a wooden face. To my relief, It turned about, and bashfully waddled back into the gloom from whence it came.

If you expected a less... tempered... reaction out of me, then clearly, you have never had a hangover before. If you had, you would know damn well that even if the world is ending about you, the last thing you would do is go leaping and bounding about in a panic, screaming at the top of your lungs. Besides, if your hangover is sufficiently bad, the world is pretty much ending anyway; any activity you partake in will only hasten your inevitable demise.

Suffice it to say, I had seen some trees, that were made of tree. I had also seen a dog; it too was made of tree. This dog came, and went, and came, and went again. It was nowhere to be seen, thus, things were the same as they were before its arrival. This was good. This was a good thing. Everything was definitely ok.

My thoughts of disappearing tree dogs desperately tried to supress themselves, and panic began creeping about in the dark recesses of my mind.

Predictably, supressing these thoughts didn't work - and I proceeded to do just about the worst thing I possibly could have done, given my situation. I stood up, and tentatively leaping and bounding about in a panic, I screamed at the top of my lungs. In a very natural turn of events given the circumstances, my already pretty vile smelling bath robe soon had a fresh (for want of a better word) sputtering of vomit down it, and my head pounded with the most exquisite agony. That's probably about the time the sensible part of my brain decided enough was enough; and I passed out.

Author's Note

I figure if I write multiple bad stories, the motivation to finish at least one will be increased. Maybe.

Of hangovers, and brokener minds

As conciousness began its daily conquest, I became gradually aware of an intense, and unpleasantly familiar nausia.

Wow... I... wow, ok, maybe an unfamiliar nausia. Definitely much worse than usual, at least. How much had I drunk, last night...? Given the savage pounding between my ears, (that hitherto, I had been blissfully unaware of); far too much.

Salvation awaited me in the bathroom cupboard, and... hold up... That's definitely déjà vu knocking.

As circumspectly as possible, I cracked open an eyelid. Relief rushed through me, for above me, there was a ceiling! Oh blessed solace! It was all a dream!

With that happy thought in mind, I opened my eyes, rolled out of bed, and smashed heavily into tiny ponyWAIT WHAT!

I bellowed incomprehensibly at the pony in what, upon reflection, was probably abject terror. It wheezed plaintively beneath me. A hoof came up, somehow holding a clipboard, and began weakly belabouring me about the face. I continued bellowing uncertainly, mainly to keep up appearances. The beating persisted.

"Get off!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaa... one moment.. did.. did you...?"

"GET OFF ME!!"Tears began to leak from its eyes, as they rolled slowly back in it's head.

"D...did you just talk?!"

*WHEEZE*I... I can't... *huuurk* breathe... *wheeze*

"OH! God, sorry!" I cried, realising a little too late that I'd straight up crushed the poor thing. I sprang to my feet with all the elegance of a broken rotary clothesline in a gale.

"Are you ok...?" I tried. "Uuh... madam?" (No man would be seen dead with eyelashes like that.)

*...wheeze...*

With some unnescessarily loud gasping, whooping noises, the pony began to reinflate itself. It was, quite frankly, hilariously small. Like, you could probably have crammed it into a reasonably sized suitcase, if you were feeling sadistic enough. And it was all over the place proportionally. I continued gazing at it, quite mystified, as it whooped its way back to the land of the living.

"ooooooooooooooooouuurgh..." It said. "Uuugh... ouch..." It continued. "That really hurt, you know." it finished, before fixing me with a penetrating glare.

"Gosh, I umm. I'm ever so sorry about that mate, I don't normally have a..." I gestured at her, "Miniature horse...? In my bedroom?"

The miniature horse in question gave me what I can only describe as a dangerous look. "This is Appleoosa Vetinary Practise, sir. Not your bedroom." she said, before brightening considerably. "Apology accepted, though! Thank you" She beamed at me.

For my part, I tried desperately to conceal my indignance. Vetinary practise, indeed! What did she think I was?! Some sort of animal?! I mean she's right, I suppose... but still! It isnt exactly dignified. Y'know?

That's about when reality hit home, and I crashed back down onto the bed, quite overcome. "I'm not dreaming, am I miss. You actually are a talking horse, aren't you. I'm not just imagining things, am I?"

Now it was her turn to look indignant "Sir? I'm a Pony. And I'll thank you for not addressing me in that manner again!" She stomped over to a serious looking trolley, laden with (rather medieval looking) surgical instruments. "Whorse indeed..." she muttered.

I stared after her, nonplussed. Apparently I've committed some dreadful faux pas. "Look mate. I er..." I paused, palming my temples in mild consternation. "This is all new to me. Where is hell am I? And I'm sorry, but I genuinely thought you were some sort of horse!"

Whoops.

A menacing glimmer danced in her eyes. "WELL I NEVER!! Maybe you think you can LEAP on every mare you meet before even learning their names! But I, am no.. no WHORSE!" She stomped over to me, as I clambered back onto the bed in mild panic. My god, was I really about to be bumrushed by a forty pound weakling? "How DARE you!" she bellowed. "Come down here immediately!"

Blimey. Better do as she said, I guess. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all. Couldn't begin to imagine how I've scorned her though. I hesitantly made my way back down, very careful not the mention the word 'h****' again, and stood before her, pulling my best 'complacent and unassuming' face. She raised a hoof, glaring daggers at me, and bopped me in the shin. It was like being slapped by a very dense marshmallow.

"You... you uncouth stallion!" she snapped, quivering her lip at me in a righteous display of emotion.

"Sorry?"

She looked somewhat mollified.

"Look mate, maybe we got off to a poor start. I didn't intentionally uuh... 'leap on you', I'd only just woken up, see? Fell out of bed! Had no idea you where there!"

Her expression of fury shifted slowly into something I can only describe as imperiously aloof, as I continued. "And, I definitely didn't mean to call you a hor-..." NICE. Caught myself that time. I grinned genially at her. "Where on Earth is 'Apple-loser' anyway?"

She looked quite taken aback. "Where on Earth...? What d'you... oh! Where on Equis, you mean?" All fury now forgotten, she smiled brightly. "Just south of the capital! Canterlot's that way!" She gestured in a direction I can only assume was North.

I grimaced at the number of awful pony puns. "Where on Earth, is Equis?"

"This is Equis!" She bopped a hoof on the ground a few times, as if to demonstrate that this was indeed, Equis. "The planet Equis, and the continent of Equestria." She grinned in a rather sanctimonious way, apparently very pleased with how helpful she was being.

I couldn't take much more of this. Not standing, anyway - and I still had the hangover, which I was certain felt even worse... I sat weakly back down, and brooded...

Sean. That unmitigated TOSSER. Somehow, he's sent me to another planet. Another ACTUAL planet. Covered in disappearing tree dogs and volatile ~~horses~~ ponies.

What a bastard. What an absolute bellend. I'm going to piss in his Xbox when I get back.

I think I need a drink...

"Come down from there this instant!"

"NO!" I screeched obnoxiously, hospital gown rippling, as the filing cabinet I'd clambered up rocked beneath my quivering frame.

You may wonder what occurred in the intervening moments between my earlier brooding, and my current situation. Allow me to offer a bit of context. Remember the poor girl I'd flattened earlier? She'd finally introduced herself. Nurse Tenderhoof was her name, and she had declared to me that I must undergo a quick examination before I could be discharged. To my dismay, this examination had involved a thermometer. I was unaware there would be a thermometer involved, up until the moment its frigid tip caressed one of my most vulnerable orifices. A desperate struggle then ensued, and I, fuelled by animal terror, endeavoured to put as much distance between myself, and Tenderhoof's... 'medical equipment' as I humanly could. After a fashion, I came upon a suitable filing cabinet, ascended it, and well - there you have it.

Tenderhoof stood below me, eyes bulging with moderate consternation. "Look, you're being silly! Come down here, and let's get you examined! The quicker you do, the quicker it'll be over."

I teetered defensively on my cabinet. "No, no I don't think I shall." I called down in a strained voice. "I know exactly what you're planning to do with that thermometer... and good Christ, you could've used a smaller one..."

Tenderhoof schemed quietly below me, face crumpling as if she faced some terrible internal dilemma. "Ok... we won't do temperatures. But you're clearly not well, and I can't help you when you're sulking way up there!

My rocking slowed. "You promise you won't go near my bum?" My resolve was beginning to dwindle. "It's just a hangover, anyway." I muttered.

"Hangover?! I don't think so!" She huffed pompously. "More like Thaumic shock! Now please, stop being so difficult."

Thaumic shock. Well that's a new one. I glared at her balefuly, and decended from my platform. "You can't just thermometer someone up... up *there* without asking, you know! What the hell kind of practitioner are you?".

Tenderhoof had the decency to look flustered for a moment. "Sorry, I'm really not used to working with customers that can umm... talk..."

Huh. I can sort of see where she's coming from, to be fair to her. Wood that moans when you hit it would come as a surprise to a carpenter. No doubt a patient that has the audacity to complain when you jam a thermometer up its arse comes a surprise to a veterinarian.

She reached up, and patted the back of my hand tenderly, finally living up to her name. "Come on then, let's get this examination finished, and get you back on your hoov- uh..." She looked at my feet uncertainly. "...paws?" she eventually finished, in a flash of inspiration. I rolled my eyes, and followed her.

To her credit, she managed to avoid sticking things in my bumhole, instead rattling through a series of tests, some of which seemed rather silly. But I persevered, and so did she. She took swabs, a blood sample and a few seemingly random cranial measurements, until...

"Nearly done! Just one last thing!" she declared happily. "Let me just get my Thaumometer"

In an instant, I was back on my cabinet. Rocking and shrieking more fervently than ever.

"Oh for goodness sake! I said THAUMOmeter!" She waved a weird little glass ball at me. I gibbered frantically for a few moments, before finding the presence of mind to form a sensible reply.

"That's not going *up there* is it?"

"It most certainly is not! These are expensive, you know!" she retorted, drawing the ball to her chest defensively.

Well... she'd stuck to her word until now, and she seemed trustworthy enough, I rationalised. God I felt absolutely dreadful now... maybe she was right? Maybe this was something more than a hangover? If she reckoned she could help me, I supposed there'd be no harm in letting her try. I took a deep breath, and for the second time that day, decended her filing cabinet.

With a few soothing words, and much hand patting, Tenderhoof coerced up onto the examination table. I lay there upon its cold surface, feeling awfully vulnerable. She approached now, little ball in hoof, an expression of intense focus on her face. The ball drew my eye - a barely perceptible grey glow seemed to come from it. Perhaps that was my imagination...? It was too faint to be sure either way. The interior of the ball churned with.. with... I wasn't certain! Glitter, perhaps? It looked like sparkling silver ink, but... somehow living, and alert. It was so utterly uncanny! So ernest, and alive! My chest ached as I struggled to surpess the panic that welled within me, and the ball seethed fiercely.

"Ok. Lie still now - this won't hurt a bit, I promise." came Tenderhoof's gentle voice, and she delicately held the swirling ball over me...

Author's Note

Oh dear. Main char is a helpless flailing cretin. Will try to tone the ridiculousness down in chapter 4. I promise!

Mostly harmless

Well, this was awkward. Tenderhoof was uncomfortably close, leaning over me to stare deep into her Thaumometer. She smelt faintly of disinfectant. Her eyes were fixed, unblinking, on the silver orb. Its contents contracted, shuddered and began moving in a deeply disconcerting way. Tenderhooves' eyes widened slighty, and darted over to meet mine.

The orb's weird, unnatural movements - they looked like I felt. I can't really do its description justice, but... here goes. You've all been to the seaside, right? Seen the waves? They go in, and out... crash up, and down - sometimes wash left. and right. Now... imagine that movement in four dimensions, slap it in a crystal ball, and shake it. That's pretty much what I was looking at. A beautiful, incomprehensible silver shape thrummed and splashed, as Tenderhoof moved it over me - tutting, nodding and jotting down the odd note on her clipboard.

Thaumic shock... that's what she said, isn't it? I had absolutely no idea what she was going on about. And so I asked her.

"...Hmm? Oh! Thaumic shock?" came her slow reply, as my question broke her focus. "When a magical creature is subjected to umm... magical turbulence, they experience Thaumic shock. It can be quite a nasty condition." She continued waving her Thaumometer above me.

I lay silent for a moment, processing her answer. My voice cracked, as a strange panic bubbled within me, eating at my confidence. "Tenderhoof...? I'm not a magical creature..."

She stared at me, switched her gaze to the churning silver orb and giggled lightly. "Yes you are". She patted the orb, grinning. "Thaumometers don't lie!"

"No seriously, I'm not magic." I said; my tone tense. "Magic doesn't exist, and... well, I mean it does? But only in stories and stuff. It's not real" I finished weakly, realising the irony in my statement, as I waited for the talking horse to reply.

"Well..." uncertainty coloured her voice "Your aura is definitely irregular. I've never seen anything quite like it." Slowly, she withdrew the orb, and, turning her back to me, placed it delicately back amongst her (horrifying) medical instruments.

Turning back around, clipboard in hoof, she brandished an obnoxiously large quill at me. "Sighhgh huyh tleesh." she slobbered, tapping the quill on a dotted line near the bottom of her clipboard. Wow... I... didn't really know how to respond to that. I gingerly took the quill, now covered with horse dribble. "Sorry I uuh... didn't quite catch that? Come again?"

"On the dotted line? Sign there please." came Tenderhooves' swift reply.

Shaking some of the dribble off the quill, I cast an eye over my paperwork. Near the top, it read - 'Species: Papio horribilis'.

"...Fucking WOW Tenderhoof, that's a bit harsh. Horrible baboon? Fuck me..." I muttered.

"What was that?" she smiled sweetly.

"Nothing...nothing...grumble grumble I will get you back for that. I will sneak into your bedroom, and slip a turd under your duvet."

I signed my name on the paperwork, as requested, and returned Tenderhooves' moist quill. She shuffled off, trolley in tow, and left me there sat on the table, twiddling my thumbs. My head still throbbed, and my stomach still felt like I'd swallowed a live terrier. All in all, my situation had not improved.

Oh, and Tenderhoof had taken my bathrobe and pyjama bottoms away. The flimsy hospital gown she'd left me with was very... liberating... I guess? But I really don't want the world to see my twig and berries every time the wind picks up. And I'm pretty sure my arse hangs out the back of it, wind or no. I'd have to remember to ask for my actual clothes back.

I stood up, and pottered phlegmatically about the room. I was on another world, inhabited by at least one talking horse. Honestly, I was struggling to find the energy to give a damn about my predicament. After all, it didn't seem TOO bad here. Decent weather... decent views too, from what I can remember. Nothing to complain about really, bar the perpetual hangover.

My mind wandered, as I stared blankly at a particularly enthralling patch of wall.

"I'm baaa-aaaack!" came the singsong voice of Tenderhooves, trolley clattering along behind her. I jolted from my reverie, turning peevishly to acknowledge her with a half hearted wave. "Hiya Tenderhooves. You uuh... got my clothes still?"

"I sure do!" God she was enthusiastic... "Got em right here, freshly laundered!" she patted her trolley, and sure enough, there they were! I was genuinely a little taken aback by her thoughtfulness.

"Blimey, thank you! That's really good of you nurse, I appreciate it!"

"Oooh, it's no problem at all! There was enough room for me to stick em' in alongside the soiled animal bedding Nurse Sugarsnap was laundering" came her happy reply, as she plopped my clothes into my waiting arms.

My appreciation dimmed slightly. "How uuh... heavily soiled are we talking here?"

"Would you like me to take the hospital gown back now?" Asked Tenderhooves, slipping my question expertly.

I harrumphed, and ducked behind a convenient curtain to get changed.

"Hey..." I said, hesitantly, as a thought occurred "What's this Thaumic shock going to do to me then?" I peeped around the curtain, bracing myself for the worst.

"I have absolutely no idea." She beamed at me.

Fuck... I'd braced myself the wrong way.

Author's Note

Pardon the typos and such. I don't have a pre-reader ;D. Let me know what you like, what you don't, etc. Feedback is always useful!

Well howdy doody

"W-whaddya mean you've no idea?!" I was at this point, apoplectic, and quite unsure exactly what I should be feeling. "I'm not gonna... burst, or something, am I?"

"As I said" Nurse Tenderhoof simpered, "I've no idea. But, we definitely can get you the help you need! As a matter of fact, you're in luck!" I raised a tentative eyebrow at her, as she continued. "A gentlecolt named Braeburn lives in town - he's Applejack's cousin, and Applejack has some pretty serious political clout. She and her friends can fast track you into one of the capital's Natural Thaumaturgy research facilities. You couldn't be in better hooves!"

In spite of myself, I was impressed. This girl was a consumate professional, and inspired confidence (when there were no thermometers within easy reach, at any rate). A sense of relief began to wash over me. "Oh, thank goodness! You're a diamond, Tenderhoof!"

"Come on then" she beckoned me, smiling. "Let's find you a place to sit while we wait on Braeburn."

"What, he's on his way already?!"

"Course' he is!" she said, winking hugely. "I'm not known as Appleoosa's best vet for nothing, you know!"

"But how did you contact hi...?"

"Pyrogram"

"What's a p..." I didn't manage to finish, as by now we'd reached the veterinary practices' reception area, and Tenderhoof; the very model of efficiency, had forced me into a seat.

She hurried off to do vet things, and I sat, momentarily stunned by this swift change of pace. Gosh... I thought to myself. These guys are nearly as good as the NHS! My contemplations were rudely disrupted by a voice from behind the reception desk.

"Scuse' me sir." came the despondent voice, "Are you the one waiting for Mister Braeburn?"

"Yup!" I replied dully, standing in an effort to spot the voice's owner. A pair of eyes peeped over the counter at me, somehow conveying an expression of absolute dread.

"Well he shouldn't be long now" the eyes said. "There's the door." A hoof popped up, and gestured vaguely.

"Aah yes." I responded, eyeing the door. "Thank you." I wandered over to it. Through its glass pane, I could see an arid, and starkly beautiful expanse, dotted with cacti, and the occasional boulder.

Looking back to the eyes, I voiced my thoughts. "This Apple-loser place is really rather lovel-"

I was interrupted by an obscenely guttural noise from outside, like someone tossing a bucket of paint into a jet engine, and turned just in time to witness a glutinous brown liquid spatter heavily across the door, wholly obscuring the hitherto pleasant view.

Mere moments later, the door splashed open, and in minced the most painfully stereotypical hayseed I ever did see. The leather waistcoat tells me all I need to know. I can just tell the lad is as gay as a daisy. Hell, his arse is probably loose enough to whistle when the wind catches it just right. Good on him, I guess. Do what you love, love what you do and all that.

He sashayed up to the reception counter, shooting me with a sultry look, and the floor with a wad of chewing tobbacco roughly the size of a deck chair. Nice. Guess I know what hit the window now.

"why hello there ma'am" he drawled, politely. (actually it sounded more like 'Whaaaaeeeeyul howdy doody deyuh shugguh', but I've taken liberties in my transcription to make it a little more legible for you, you lucky thing!). "I do believe you sent for me?" he (I am fairly sure) continued. The eyes quivered, and sank below the desk, looking more forlorn than ever.

Before the poor dear behind the desk could reply, A glazed look entered the newcomer's eyes, as he horked and snorted up a storm. This storm eventually culminated in the expulsion of his biggest, brownest wad of chewing tobbacco yet.

Please no. Please tell me this guy isn't...

"...Umm... Mister Braeburn...?" I hesitantly interrupted his horking. He swiveled lazily around to fix me with an aggressively vacuous look; mouth open, baccy juice dribbling down his chin. "Hyeayuh?"

Oooh shit.

For better or for worse, I now had the dubious pleasure of his attention, and he horked cautiously at me.

"I umm... I believe you're looking for me?"

"...Hyeayuh?"

"Umm..." I considered my next words carefully. "Yes...?" I ventured.

The effort of thought overwhelmed him, and his eyes took on that blank expression again. I wasn't sure whether he was winking at me a lot, or blinking each eye individually. It is entirely possible he was doing both at once? It was quite hard to tell.

"Hyeayuh..."

"You were going to take this stallion to meet your nice COUSIN, weren't you Braeburn." the desk prompted.

Braeburn considered the desk's proposal for some time, before horking a hefty mouthful over it. The fat brown chunk soared majestically through the air, and walloped into a mercifully unoccupied seat.

"Hyeayuh" agreed Braeburn; eventually determining the desk to be correct in its hypothesis.

He stirred into action, punted the door open, and minced through it, ahead of me. A gentle breeze caressed him, and I heard a faint but distinct whistle.

Called it.

The desk urgently beckoned me after Braeburns slowly retreating figure. "Off you go then!"

And so, off I went. As the door closed behind me, I heard the sound of Tenderhooves sloshing about with a mop and bucket.

Author's Note

Chewing tobbacco is inherently funny. As you can see, poor Braeburn is struggling with single life. Who should he be shipped with? Suggestions please! Just uuh... try not to say Big Mac.

The sickest sugar cube

Braeburn moved through a crowd like an idiot shark through a school of fish. Ponies parted before him gripped by a curiously deferential panic; politely clambering over each other, compelled by the single minded desire to not be spat on. An unfortunate few failed to notice the mincing figure's progress down the street, and once it came within range, were inevitably drenched by a tarry wad of Braeburn's seemingly endless chewing tobacco.

I feel it's worth pointing out a matter that may not be immeditately apparent. It seemed that Braeburn genuinely had no real intent on painting the town and its ponies brown. He simply didn't connect his actions to the world around him - he just so happened to spit in the same direction he was looking, with no malice or vindictiveness at all. The lad just didn't join the dots, y'know? His expression of mild surprise whenever a gobbet of tarry spit went splashing over something was evidence enough. Watching him, was like watching a dog jump at its own farts.

For my part, I was becoming increasingly agitated. It seemed Apple-loser was not a big town, and Braeburn had just taken me down the same street for the third time in a row."So, Braeburn?" I asked, as he giggled and 'howdy deyuh shugguh'd' down at the tearful and desperate face of a foal in a pram. "Mind if I ask where this train station is?" My question slowly sunk in to the crooning stallion's mind. To the foals immediate relief, and with a particularly agressive hork, he turned to look at me instead, dribbling contemplatively.

Oooh shit.

'ptOOOH' went Braeburn, his eyebrows raising in naive astonishment.

'wallop' went an acrid gob of murky spittle.

Ah well... I thought to myself, discarding the now sodden bathrobe. It was Seans's anyway, so I can hardly complain. Look on the bright side, right? Might be able to score myself a new set of threads whilst I'm here.

'S'ovuh deyuh' he dribbled magnanimously; gesturing at a building we'd passed by twice already. Nothing about the building in question suggested that it might be a train station, but by this point, I was willing to give anything a shot. I nodded meekly in thanks and, making my excuses, I darted for the doors; hoping to slip between them and hide before he could catch on to my disappearance. This is Braeburn we're talking about, after all. For him, I suspect out of sight is indeed out of mind.

Unfortunately, Braeburn isn't as vacant as he looks, and to my dismay, he followed wetly; apparently having taken it upon himself to chaperone me all the way to my end goal. I didn't want to tell him 'he didn't need to', or that 'I was quite alright now', because quite frankly I didn't want to risk the peril of drawing his attention, as I knew damn well what came with it.

As it happend, the building was indeed a train station, and in spite of my better judgement, I was glad that Braeburn had followed me in. I didn't have money, and thus, could not buy a ticket. Braeburn, bless him, bought one for me. To my horror, he also bought one for himself.

'How long is this lad going to follow me around for?' I wondered, forlornly inspecting my ticket in an effort to take my mind off matters. The ticket was... remarkably pretty, actually. It was about the size of my palm; printed with black ink on thick, beige paper, and traced about its edges with delicate silver filigree. The print proudly proclaimed that I had a 'one way ticket to ponyville' and I would be riding on the the 'Cloudsdale to Macintosh Hills line'.

I spent the next few minutes standing beside Braeburn in an uncomfortable silence - a silence unhappily punctuated by the occasional fierce expulsion from Braeburn, as he generously added to the ever increasing puddle of baccy juice on the floor.

After a mercifully short time, a distant chuffing heralded the train's arrival. I risked a swift glance down at Braeburn - his jaw worked a half pound of brown goo rhythmically (I was pretty sure you weren't actually meant to -chew- chewing tobacco...?) as he stared stolidly into the shimmering desert air. I dimly wondered if he'd follow me all the way to the capital city.

Grinding of wheels, and the short, staccatto bark of the steam engine's exhaust broke my uuh... train of thought (sorry), as steam billowed about my ankles, and an obnoxiously decorated set of doors swung conveniently open before us. A gangly ticket inspector stepped out, met Braeburn's dead eyes, and froze; which was a mistake, because Braeburn doesn't do second chances. Her mouth was open and everything. It was awful.

Braeburn's expression slid into one of shocked innocence, as the ticket inspector dropped to the ground retching hideously. He regarded her for a moment, before gobbing a hefty brown chunk down her ear, and stepping over her recumbent form into the train car. I followed warily after, skirting the shuddering mare. Holy shit... I felt so bad for her.

Thoughtlessly, I wandered over to Braeburn, who'd found a cushty little booth by an open window. There was even a little table! Delighted, I sat down, opposite him. Maybe there was a buffet trolley or something...?! I'm not sure if my stomach could take it, given the way it was currently churning, but I could damn well try, and... wait... I just sat down opposite...

Opposite Braeburn...

"....hhhhhhhhhhhhHHHOOOORK" he went, gazing happily into my eyes.

Oooh shit. Think fast brain! "LOOK OUTSIDE BRAEBURN ISN'T IT PRETTY!" I roared, simultaneously ducking below the table between us, and flailing a hand in the open window, to draw his attention. It worked, thank fuck, and the hideous missile went soaring through, taking the hat off a passing mare.

This was going to be a long ride...

Author's Note

This was literally a chapter of me finding things for Braeburn to spit on. I am sorry.

Motion; sickness intensifies

Ponies came in a gradual trickle, a few boarding our carriage as the train slowly filled. Even the ticket inspector made her triumphant (if tearful) return, having found and used a shower. I quietly occupied myself by taking in the sights as ponies bustled about, finding their seats. I know I'd described the carriage's decoration as obnoxious before, but now that I was inside, it kinda worked, y'know? All the extravagantly carved and varnished woodwork, the glitzy gilding, the bold primary red... it contrasted agreeably, bringing to mind images of opulent theatres, and old Edwardian opera houses.

After much jostling of passengers and stamping of tickets, the train hissed and barked into motion, rattling slowly out of the station and onto the line to Ponyville. A gentle breeze brought some relief from the still desert air as we clattered down the rails. Braeburn, thankfully, was still captivated by the window, working himself into an excited frenzy as we picked up speed. Soon, he was no longer able to contain himself, and hung his head out of the window, ears flapping in the breeze, jaw working manically in his excitement. It should come as no surprise to hear that he soon spat enthusiastically, and a fraction of a second later, the wind brought him back a taste of his own medicine. He reeled his head back in wide-eyed and sticky, and I imagine that's pretty much how he stayed for the remainder of the journey - grumbling morosely to himself in Redneck, and intermittently gobbing over the table. I decided to leave him to it, and went searching for potential buffet carts.

Every single carriage I came through on my quest for cake, clamoured with ponies. They seemed a perfect match to the carriage's decour; a colourful riot of pastille all smiling, giggling and chatting happily amongst themselves. It was all really rather sweet. Had my circumstances been different, I genuinely would have enjoyed the ride, but... by now, I was struggling. My head pounded terribly, and the nausia had grown to such a point that I debated abandoning my search for cake, in favour of returning to my seat. I was becoming gradually aware of some new and wholly disconcerting sensations, too. I could feel the roots of my teeth tingling. The beds of my nails, too... even my hair! I was sure of it! I could feel panic stirring in the shadows of my mind... my heart, hammering in my chest, my vision greying, blurring... I...

"Excuse me, sir...? Are you ok over there" an concerned voice dragged me back to Eart... Equis, sorry. Whatever.

"N-no I uuh. Yeah, sorry. Fine. I'm fine." I replied, curtly. My tone betrayed me - I was obviously far from fine. An urgent little clatter of crockery being set down, was soon followed by a mouth, delicately taking hold of my hand. It began firmly, but not ungently, leading me.

"Sit. Sit! Goodness, you don't look fine at all, i-if you'll pardon my saying so..." came the voice again, as its owner plopped me down into a waiting chair. "You ill, or something?" it continued, as a shock of mauve mane swam in to view on the edge of my vision. A sherbet yellow pony soon followed, flashing a worried smile up at me.

"I... I don't think I'm actually ill? The vet said I have uhh... Thaumic shock? if that helps?" I offered. I made an effort to return the smile, but I suspect in hindsight, it was probably more of a grimace. "I don't know what it's meant to do to me," I continued, "but she said it can be pretty bad... so..." Again, I felt panic needling my skin.

"D-don't you worry none! You'll be fine!" a hoof patted my arm awkwardly. "You'll be ok! Just... just try to keep calm, alright?

I didn't bloody feel calm! Not a bit of it! But the voice was soothing in a way, and reassuring. Panic still simmered within me, but it no longer boiled, thanks to whoever it was patting at me. I felt a little more grounded now that there was someone there with me. Someone that was trying their best to help. I still felt beyond weird, and that tingling hadn't left me, but I no longer had to endure it alone.

"Hey..." She looked up at me slyly "I know what'll make you feel better!"

"Yeah...?"

"Oh yeah! I have some mint brownies here. Wanna' try one?" she proffered a stout, chocolatey square, her voice taking on an almost sultry tone. "They're fresh baked..."

I sat, mesmerised... it was the gooiest, richest slab of generosity I'd ever set eyes on! And no matter how nausious they feel, scrawny bastards such as myself need to take their opportunities wherever they can find em'. And believe me, this was an opportunity no sane person could miss - the mere smell of the thing was giving me at least three types of diabetes. Bloody hell, I wanted it so much. SO much...

I uuh... won't lie... I just dribbled everywhere.

A poorly stifled gigglesnort errupted from the mare. "Here ya' go then!" she said, tittering behind her hoof. "Take your time with it. Don't want to make yourself any sicker!"

Now, I'm quite a generous chap - so I won't tell you how good it was. You'd only spend the rest of your life in envy of me if I did. Even if you hate mint chocolate brownie, you would envy me. That's how good it was. I promise you. You'd better believe I ate the damned thing RIGHT up.

"That was AMASING!" I burbled happily around the last morsel.

"Why thank you! I was just trying out a new recipe."

"W-wait, YOU baked them?!" I... I think I'm in love (With her cooking. Don't get any weird ideas).

"Uh-huh! Baking's my special talent" she grinned, patting her flank. "Got my cutie mark for it when I was nine!"

Sure enough, there was a little picture of baked goods down there. Huh... I'd been wondering what those things were called, actually. I'd just accepted their presence, and mentally named them buttprints. In hindsight, probably not the 'cleanest' name I could've chosen.

"You're something special, you know that?" I breathed, still riding the brownie induced euphoria. "I wish I could bake like that. Hell, I wish I could bake at all..."

She let out an embarrassed, tinkling laugh. "I'm glad you think so! My name's Meadowsweet, by the way. Pleased to meet ya." she giggled, holding out a hoof to me. I shook the proffered hoof uncertainly - Meadowsweet looked mildly taken aback. "You new to Equestria or somethin' hon? You're meant to bop it." she giggled again, and offered the hoof for me to try a second time.

Meadowsweet and I spent the remainder of the journey together shooting the breeze, and swapping tall tales. She told me about her coltfriend, and how he loved her brownies too. She also talked about a few of her hobbies - she was an amateur botanist apparently, as well as a baker! She'd taken the train to Ponyville to visit this place called 'The Everfree Forest'. Her plans were to collect a few interesting plant specimens, then pay a visit to her friend Roseluck. Time flew, and before we knew it, we heard the squeal of wheels on tracks as the train braked, slowing gently before it pulled into the station.

"Meadowsweet?" I turned to her "Its been an absolute pleasure. I really don't know what state I'd have been in without you earlier. Thanks for your help there, I... I think I really needed that."

"Hey, no problem at all! Glad to help." She smiled. "You take care of yourself - hope to see you again some time!"

I stood, as we said our goodbyes, and we parted with a final wave. I, to find Braeburn, and she I presume, to find the Everfree Forest

Braeburn was right where I left him and, there was about as much spit surrounding him as you would imagine there to be. The few ponies that remained in his carriage thronged around the exit in a frenzy, clearly very eager to leave. Braeburn's horrendous spit puddle crept towards them as the train continued braking.

When the train finally pulled to a halt and the doors were opened, the squabbling mass of ponies popped out practically as one, spilling onto the platform in a great yodelling heap of relief. Wading through Braeburn's puddle, I followed swiftly after, and onto the crowded platform outside.

"You must be that baboon we've been a'sittin here wait'n for! Howdy there sugarcube! Welcome to Ponyville!" Blared an orange mare, apparently addressing me. "Mah name is Applejack," she continued loudly, momentarily holding a hoof to her chest, before thwacking it into the side of a broad set stallion beside her. "An this is here's mah brother, Big M-"

"BRAAAAHBURN" interrupted Big M-.

"BYIIIIG MAAAAC" hollered Braeburn, helpfully disclosing the remainder of the red stallion's name, as he lept eagerly from the carriage.

They rushed towards each other, rearing up to share a hug and -

O...oh.

Locked tenderly together in a... oh dear... in a VERY passionate french kiss. Well I never. That was something I'd not seen cousins do before. From the looks of it, nor had anybody else, as the cousins' very public enthusiasm for each other's gullets began to draw quite a bit of attention, along with a few uncertain cheers. It was overall, a uniquely awkward experience, and I stood frozen in horrified fascination.

Applejack paled, and hid beneath her hat as they sloppily mashed tonsils. I chose to wander stiffly away at this point; making a show of inspecting everything but the steamy makeout session behind me. I managed to make it quite some distance down the platform before I heard an urgent retching, too heartfult and explosive to ignore. I span back around, surprised to find myself nearly swatting Applejack across the arse. Apparently she'd had the same idea as me, and had followed in an attempt to disassociate herself from her uhh... impassioned relatives.

Anyway... back to the retching. In a 'completely unexpected' turn of events Braeburn had, it appeared, accidentally broken the familial kiss by gobbing a chunk of baccy straight down Big Mac's throat, and now stood over him bewildered, holding the poor chap's hair back. Big Mac was practically doubled over, heaving lachrymosely, and shooting Braeburn the occasional grief stricken look.

There are better ways to break a kiss.

"So Applejack..." I murmured "Should we get going?"

She gulped. "Ah' uuh... uhhhh... uuhhhhhh... yeah..."

Author's Note

Ok... ok... I managed some nice 'slice of life stuff', before it all descended back into anarchy again. I tried my best for you guys!

And uuh... I apologise for the BigBurn ship :rainbowkiss: .

It didn't have to be this way.

Blame the comments section.

No proof reader, so if ya spot something, lemme know! Cheers.

Horrible baboon makes himself known to science

I followed Applejack's swiftly retreating figure away from the station; Big Mac and Braeburn in hot pursuit, bickered quietly behind me. By now, I'd caught my first sight of Ponyville, and I have to say, it was... umm... perhaps impressive, is the word? In a rural, backwards kind of way, at any rate. The place looked so untouched by progress that I felt almost as if I were looking into a little pocket of history.

The quaint little town stretched before us. A delightfully picturesque place; all thatched rooves and winding cobbled streets. Occasionally, a pastille pegasus would take to the air, fluttering silently over the rooves and streets alike. It must be nice to have that sort of freedom...

Towards the outskirts, stood the biggest, most fuck off tree I'd ever seen. It looked like someone had crossed a grand old oak, with the mightiest baobab they could find. Intrigued, I hurried after Applejack to ask a few questions - the first in mind being 'what the hell is that thing'.

"It's a tree" came the dry reply. Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer, I guess. To be fair to her though, she soon told me the tree was exactly what we were heading for, then followed this tidbit of information up with the audacious claim that the dirty great plant was in fact a library. I remained unconvinced, until an ungainly telescope, windows and a balcony came into view, just below the vast rippling canopy of leaves.

"Uh-huh!" she nodded, continuing her rundown of the town. "Mah' friend Twilight lives there. And there? That's the town hall, see it? That tall building - With the pillars? And that..." She waved a hoof over at a teetering monstrosity that no sane architect would've given the go-ahead to "That's Sugar Cube Corner. The Cakes let the attic room out to other friend of mine, Pinkie Pie."

"The uuh... Cakes...?"

"Darn tootin! The Cake family? They own the place. Ya like cake, darlin'?" she asked, smiling up at me. "Ya should think about giving em' a visit when you're feelin' a tad better."

I would DEFINITELY be keeping a note of the place. If Meadowsweet's brownie was anything to go by, pony cooking was not to be missed...

As we neared the swaying, vegetal library, Applejack told me a briefly about its inhabitants. This Twilight Sparkle character apparently lived there with her private serf. His name was Spike. Applejack described him as some sort of... live in manservant cum sibling, and outright laughed when I asked if his wage was good, boldly asserting that 'he didn't need to be paid'. Overall, it seemed a curiously degenerate arrangement to me, and I found myself wondering if slavery was alive and well here. I bloody well thought this place was a bit too perfect. Spike - the Civil Rights Movement starts at home. I'm with you, buddy!

We continued walking and I continued taking in the sights. I was practically lost in the magic of the place! All around me, ponies busied themselves, going about their daily lives with a vigour and enthusiasm I rarely saw back on Earth. On a nearby rooftop, there was a little gray pegasus, practically shedding tears of joy as she stuffed down a muffin. Off to my left, a polite queue of ponies hung out of the doorway of what looked to be a sweet shop, chatting and giggling amongst themselves. Everything seemed to be a grand day out to these little ponies. Hell, even their jobs seemed to bring them unparalelled happiness - as a grass green stallion drawing a small wagon of gardening tools went strolling past, grinning like a lunatic. 'Greenhoof's Gardening Co' was crudely painted across the side of his little wagon, along with what I can only imagine was his address. No guesses what he did for a living...

"Well, here we are sugar cube!" Applejack all but bellowed, coming to a halt before the tree's front goddamn door. "I'll introduce ya to Twilight n' Spike, but ah' can't stay long - got a lot to take care of round the farm, ah' hope you understand" she finished sheepishly. With that, Applejack strode up to the door, and knocked with unnescessary ferocity.

"Comiiing!" came a muffled voice from inside, swiftly followed by the pitter patter of feet on wood. And sure enough, a moment late, the door popped open to reveal...

"Oh hey Applejack!" the monster said "How're you todaWHAT IN TARTARUS IS THAT THING?! RUN A.J! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!" it continued, fleeing desperately back inside the treehouse.

Huh...

I'd been expecting a pony.

"Uuh... uhhh. Well, that was Spike" Applejack said, gesturing towards the retreating figure after a moment's mortified silence.

"I uum... yes, he seems nice. What is he, exactly...?"

"Don't they have dragons where you come from?" Applejack snorted, staring up at me - eyes betraying her disbelief.

"Pahahah! Course not mate! Dragons aren't real."

there was a distant *POP*, and a not so distant scream.

A very purple, very agitated pony rushed up to replace Spike's now absent figure. It stood in the doorway, tremoring in disbelief.

"W-w-what happened to Spike? Applejack, did you see?! He... he... he's GONE! Did he teleport?!"

"...UHH! UHHHH? UUUUUH..." observed Applejack, eruditely; clearly overcome by this sudden turn of events.

"Breathe, Applejack! Think! What happened?!" snapped Twilight unhelpfully, concern twisting her features.

Applejack's eyes flicked up to me, and she went silent. No. Absolutely not, Applejack, There's no way you are pinning this one on me.

"He uuh, he uhh, he... uuuuh." Applejack vaguely waved an accusatory hoof.

"He what..."

"He disappeared..." mumble Applejack unhelpfully.

Twilight facehoofed.

In a fairly predictable flash of inspiration, Applejack swung the accusing hoof over to point at me "... when HE said dragon's don't exist..."

Oh dear.

Twilight rounded on me, affronted. "Dragons do exist!" she screeched, exasperation clear in her voice. "And now you're here, they can teleport too, apparently!" Her expression darkened, and her glare became fixed, and dangerous. "What. Did. You. Do."

"Bliiiiimey Twilight! Ok! Ok! alright! I'm sorry! Maybe dragons do exist then!"

*...POP* "AAAAAAAAAAAA... oh." finished spike, winking back into existence a few feet behind Twilight.

We all stared at him for a moment, completely lost for words.

Then, Twilight stared at me...

Author's Note

I hope this chapter is alright! Not too boring or whatever! I'm trying to tone down the comedy, and get into actual story now. There'll still be the occasional gag, of course! :raritywink: Lemme' know if you spot anything guys - I still don't have a proofreader to point out my idiot mistakes :twistnerd:

A great name for the greatest university.

It was Braeburn who finally broke the silence. Twilight eyed him warily as he sauntered over to one of the immaculately arranged bookcases, pulled out a thick volume titled 'A treatise onne the noble arte of alchemie', and horked indignantly at it. I can say with confidence that he wasn't reading it, because it was upside down. I'd have said he was looking at the pictures... but they too, were upside down - which probably explains his indignance.

As is the case with all things that have the misfortune of being Braeburn's object of attention for more than say, two seconds, the book was in significant danger of a drenching. Sure enough, his eyes soon glazed over, as he summoned forth the contents of his sinuses with a dreadful and powerful hork.

*pTOOH!!* went Braeburn, ejecting what had to be a good pint of fluid across the book's ancient and fragile pages.

Twilight did not respond well. I'd go so far as to say that she overreacted a little. I had never seen such carnal ferocity consensed into such a short space of time. I think at one point Twilight splatted him with an entire four poster bed? And I'm almost certain that she magically swung the poor sod around by his tail so fast that ALL this chewing tobacco came flying out in an abominable sticky torrent. It all happened so quickly! The last I saw of him, was a shrieking yellow blur hurtling through a second floor window, on a practically ballistic trajectory that was almost certain to end in tears.

If you have any doubts, allow me to assuage them. Braeburn definitely lost that engagement. And the library lost at least one potential customer. There was nothing now that could convince me to borrow a book from Twilight's library. Not after her little display. I... really didn't want to be swung around by the closest thing I had to a tail, after all.

She stood in the centre of the room, panting, and clearly exhausted by her sudden burst of savagery. To my relief, it seemed she had worked off all her furious energy on our dribbly friend. What she had not done however, is forget that I had a potential hand in Spike's disappearance.

"So... *pant* would you care... *pant* to explain...?"

I threw my hands up defensively. "L-look, I had absolutely nothing to do with tha-" My brain suddenly interrupted my mouth, reminding me that a scant few hours previously, a dog made of tree had disappeared under similar circumstances. And Nurse Tenderhoof had made the (now not so ridiculous) claim that I was a magical creature...

Surely not... surely it couldn't be me, 'disappearing' things? Could it?

It all seemed a bit too convenient to be mere coincidence...

"You know what Twilight? On second thought, I uuh... think I might have a bit of a problem. You know nurse Tenderhoof? The vet in Apple-loser?"

Twilight relaxed, nodding, pensively. "It's 'Appleloosa', but yes... I know her..." she walked over to one of the few tables that had managed to remain upright during her rampage, and hoisted a thick stack of papers, flopping it at me with her magic. "She sent this over a few hours ago... it's your medical file."

"Blimey... You - you've read it, right...? You know about the Thaumic shock? You can help me, can't you? I'm not gonna burst or anyth-"

"I - I can try?" interrupted Twilight, gently waving a placating hoof at me, as she flipped through the file's pages. "I don't really know what's wrong with you yet... some of these symptoms are consistent with Tenderhooves' diagnosis but..."

"B-but what?" I could feel that all too familiar panic clouding my thoughts. "Tw...Twilight?"

"I can't be sure what's happening... not yet" her eyes flicked up to meed mine, her features etched with grim determination. "Take a seat - I'll be right back!"

'I guess that's progress at least', I thought to myself, plopping down into a weeny little pony sized couch, to watch Twilight's retreating form stomp purposefully away, and up a cutesie flight of stairs. After a few minutes of rustling and a loud THUNK (followed by what I'm sure was a muffled expletive), she came stomping back down again, angrily rubbing the back of her head, and carrying in her magic a Thaumometer much larger, and MUCH wobblier than Tenderhoof's.

"Lie back please, mister baboon." twilight patted the cusions beside me with a smile. "here - along the couch. You've got to stay still, so as I can get an accurate reading."

I did as she requested, slighly hurt at being called a baboon again.

"I'm not a bab-"

"SHUSH! Nice and still now."

Twilight's magic moved the thrumming thermometer over to me, almost instantaneously it crackled into paradoxical motion, just as Tenderhooves' had done.

"O-oh... oh! OH!! I see! It all makes sense now!" came Twilight's excited voice. "Your Thaumic polarity... it's... it's reversed!"

"The hell does that mean?"

"It means Thaumic energy isn't flowing THROUGH you properly." she said purply, turning to me with a sanctimonious grin. "It's going in, but not out."

"I uuh... yeah, no offence intended, Twilight, but I'm none the wiser here."

"It means you're accumulating massive Thaumic energ-oh... Ohhh dear. Ooooh no... ohhhhh NO!!" she whimpered, as understanding dawned. "We... we have to get you to Canterlot's University of Natural Thaumaturgy right away!"

"Twilight, y-you're panicking. Should I uuh... should I be panicking too?"

"Yes! We can't wait a moment longer! The more time spent around magical energy, the worse you'll get, I-"

"Shit! SHIT!! TWILIGHT, AM I GONNA BURST?!"

Twilight stared at me, eyes bulging with barely contained horror "Probabl-"

"NONONO!!! NO! DON'T SAY IT! D-don't say it... please... just... please get me there!!"

"Okay... uuh... okay" Her eyes were practically pinpricks. Geeze, this girl was almost as bad as me in a crisis... "I'll have to teleport us. Keep still! Hold your breath!"

"W-wait, wait! Didn't you just say I can't spend any more time around magical energy?!" I all but shrieked, "Isn't teleporting me a bad ide-"

Author's Note

I kinda get the feeling I'm a bit shit at dialogue? And uuh... writing in general, to be honest. Ah well - I'm having fun. :twilightsheepish: I hope you guys are too!

The Planar Crucible

"-a...?" I finished weakly, gazing glumly about at the city that now suddenly surrounded me. "You literally just teleported me, didn't you Twilight. You absolute potato."

She gaped up at me, stuck somewhere between remorse, and abject horror. "Oh my goodness, are you okay?!" she squeaked, ignoring my jibe. "I - I'm SO sorry, I was just... I just..."

"No, Twilight. I am very much not 'okay'. You magicked my sorry arse to Canterlot. I feel pretty rough, if I'm honest! I fee-uuh.. aah... aaACHOO!" I sneezed a faint red mist into the air, and regarded it blankly for a moment before understanding dawned... "Twilight...? is my nose bleeding?"

She gulped, nodding imperceptibly; tears brimming in the corners of her eyes "...I just wanted to help you." her voice was barely above a whisper. "It was the quickest way here, I... I thought... I thought it'd be safer than the carriage..." she heaved as a sob broke her sentence. "...Safer than a few hours of... of raw background magic..."

Wow. That... kinda took the wind out of my sails a bit. Sure, this is a stressful situation and all, but here was this girl, doing her best for me, and I was practically shouting at her for it. I mean, maybe she actually did think it through? Hell, I obviously hadn't burst, right? And I'm not exactly an authority on magic, am I? Who's to say teleporting me wasn't the safest method? The worst I had to show for it was a nosebleed, and - oh, would you look at that, my fingernails were glowing.

SHIT ME, MY FINGERNAILS WERE GLOWING?!

Cold terror gripped me, I-I...

And then, a feather-light touch brought me back to Equis...

"Mister Baboon..? W-we really should go!" Twilight's tearful, urgent little voice - cracked with emotion, cut through my terror. She took her hoof from my arm, beckoning me to follow her.

Oooh, man... she's properly crying now...

"Uhh... look, I-I'm... I'm sorry, alright? I didn't meant to snap, It's just-" my voice peetered out...

No... no, I wasn't going to give her excuses. I was going to give her an apology. I'm not fine now... but, nor was I fine before the teleport. The least I can do is forgive someone for trying their best.

"I'm sorry, Miss Sparkle... truly. Thank you. If I survive this, I... I'm sure it will be down to you. Down to your quick thinking."

And I meant it. I truly, genuinely meant it. Panic clawed in my chest. Seethed within me, like a stomach full of needles... but... Twilight's confident (if dejected) presence grounded me somehow. Kept terror from consuming me wholly. There was just something about her that filled me with....

...I don't know. Hope, maybe...? Trust? The feeling of a friend who's there for you, no matter what...?

She turned her head to me, a fragile smile graced her lips for a moment, cut through the silent tears and shuddering sobs... aaaah hell, she's not even trying to guilt trip me, and I still feel like the worst being in all of Equestria.

"Come on, Mister Baboon. Nearly... *sniffle* nearly there!"

And sure enough, so we were. forty odd yards away, stood the imposing entrance to Canterlot University of Natural Thaumaturgy. Massive iron gates loomed before me, proudly displaying the college's initials in enormous letters. Oh dear. Even in the tense and tearful atmosphere, I marvelled at the ponies' short sightedness; completely and utterly failing to hold in a guffaw. They uuh... probably should've thought that acronym through before whacking it up there for the world to see.

As we neared, the huge black gates swung open by themselves with a creak that set my teeth on edge. Oh, and got my fingernails glowing a little more brightly... great... magical gates. This place was actively TRYING to kill me.

Twilight quickened her pace. W-was she nervous too? My heart thudded in my chest... how much more of this crazy magic stuff could I take? How far away was I from that... that last straw...?

"Wait here, Mister Baboon - I won't be long! We just need to find out which department we need to get to, then we'll get you sorted out! Okay?" She gave me another brittle smile before hurrying over to the reception desk.

Everything was tingling. My skin prickled alarmingly, almost as if a myriad of tiny creatures seethed beneath it, all fighting to break through. Bloody hell, I couldn't take much more of this...

"Oh thank goodness" came Twilights voice as she hurried back over to me, carrying a fancy visitor's pass on a lanyard. "Follow me" she slipped the lanyard over my head with her telekinesis. "It's just down the hall here." Anxiety tremored in her voice, as she led me to a door marked 'High Energy Magic dpt'.

"Doctor Kiwi?" Twilight shouted, as I followed her through into the empty room. A hatch thudded open on the far wall, and out stumbled a teeny pegasus with... blimey... bat wings? And tiny pointy fangs?!

"Yuh? Hello?" she squeaked

"Miss Kiwi!" exclaimed Twilight, rushing over to the diminutive doctor. "Gosh, it's been YEARS since we last spoke! I-I'd love to catch up but... my friend here?" She half turned, nodding in my direction "He's in trouble. His Thaumic field? It's polarised. Y-you can help, right? We don't have much time!" she finished, in a ~~horse~~ hoarse whisper.

"Ohhhh! Yuh." grinned Kiwi, slapping the hatch. "I think we can probably squeeze him into the planar crucible."

"The planar crucible?" I asked, unease constricting my voice.

"Yuh" she stated, proudly. "We smash two opposing Thaumic fields together in it."

"Freakin... WHY? What the bloody hell does it do?"

"Science." she grinned conspiratorially at me.

"Right..." I said, raising an eyebrow. "And it'll help me somehow?"

"Yuh, well... maybe? We've smashed lots of things in there before." she waved a hoof at the hatch behind her, as if doing so might inspire courage within me. It didn't. "A-and uuh.. If we uuh... smash you in it, statistically, you have a fifty percent chance that your contextual morphic frequency will be adjusted to suit the localised Thaumic median. Thusly, the accumulation of polarised thaumic energy will be violently dispers-"

"So you're basically saying it might fix my problem." I interrupted.

"Yuh. We won't know until we open the hatch though."

"Oh great. So I'm Schrödinger's horrible baboon now, am I? And what about the uuh... the other fifty percent? What happens then?" I gestured wildly at the intimidating hatch. "What happens to me, i-if your uhh... your crazy magic smasher doesn't fix my problem?"

"I uuh... oh... uuh..." her eyes flitted about the room, obviously making an extreme effort to avoid my gaze. "Something umm... something different will happen." She finished weakly.

"Oh? Like what, pray tell?" I pressed.

"You uuh... burst... but it'll be very quick! You won't feel a thing! Not a thing! Umm... probably." Her pointy smile did little to alleviate my concerns.

"Y-you said burst, didn't you. You bloody well said I might bloody bastarding well BURST in there, didn't you!!"

Doctor Kiwi had the gall to look mildly affronted. "Well, yuh!" she squeaked indignantly. "You can maybe burst in there, or you can definitely burst out here. It's um.. it's entirely down to you, though! Your choice! Don't let me force you!"

Bloody hell... she raised a pretty fair point. I'll give her that.

Twilight gazed up at me hopefully, giving me an inspiring little nod.

"Kiwi... I have to ask - were you uuh... smashing yourself in there? Before we came in...?"

"...I uuuh...yuh."

"I... wow. Okay, yeah. Y'know what doctor? Sod it. Smash me. I'll take that fifty percent chance..."

Author's Note

So uuh... that was a thing. I hope it was an ok chapter, people? :rainbowhuh:

As ever, lemme know if you see any glaring errors/ typos etc! Thanks!

Kiwi's big SKREEE

"Oh yuh? Good! I had a feeling you might." Kiwi grinned, flashing her fangs at me and looking tremendously self satisfied.

"Just... what's the worst that can happen, Kiwi? I-if I burst? How bad will it be?"

"AH! Now, this is where the Thaumic science comes into play" Kiwi puffed herself up to her full, wholly unimpressive height in preparation for the delivery of exposition. "You're stuck between two Thaumic planes, yuh? Two realities, if you will. Smashing you in the Crucible will overload one of these planes in an explosion of raw Thaumic energy. Hopefully uuh... it won't be this end that explodes. Anyway, with only one plane left to you, there will be no more polarisation. Fixed! See?"

Twilight (clearly feeling left out) chose this moment to jump in, eager to deliver some exposition of her own. "O-oh! I think I understand now? You are a...a DOORWAY between planes! I think you may have 'disappeared' Spike across that link? A-and, I think it's that link that dragged you here! The raw Thaumic energy in you. It's wild and umm... unprocessed? It only becomes 'magic' when chanelled via a magic capable creature into a spell effect. It must be your... crazy magic baboon thoughts that compelled it into action? Hey tha-"

"SKREEEE" um... scree'd Kiwi, flopping her teeny bat wings, an expression of absolute horror on her face. "Crazy baboon thoughts?! Y-you questioned reality, Baboon! Didn't you?! Don't do it again! Raw thaumic energy - raw 'magic' it bends what's real to make new truths. Reality gets VERY STRANGE when you question it!"

"Strange? You serious Kiwi? What's stranger than magi-?!"

"STOP!!" screeched Twlight "T-that's exactly what she means! And questioning magic itself?! That could... could dispel every enchantment in this city! Particularly whilst you're just brimming with raw Thaums!"

"Yuh!" Kiwi scree'd, furiously, stomping about the lab on tiny angry hooves. "It's magic holding Canterlot onto the side of this mountain, you know. Just... just don't think, and we'll all be okay."

"Yes!" agreed Twilight. "You MUST keep a clear mind in the crucible, mister baboon. Don't think of anything. Anything at all! Because if you do, that 'anything' could manifest."

"Ooooookay...? I should uuh... I should go in now then, right?"

"Yuh. Go!" Kiwi swatted me across the arse with a wing. "Lie down in there, and close your eyes!"

'Huh. Ok. No worries.' I thought to myself, as I squeezed through the painfuly small hatchway. 'Zen thoughts. Calm thoughts'. said my mind, as the hatch slammed shot behind me. 'Oh hell... ooooh no... beautiful thoughts! NICE THOUGHTS!' The floor hummed at me, and my skin began to prickle. 'Oooh SHIIIT!! Pretty stuff! Don't explode me! Nice things! Like... like those first glimses of Ponyville? That was beautiful, right? Those soaring pastel pegasi, and their peaceful isolation. The absolute freedom of unfettered flight*SMASH*sweeping through thermals on delicate wings...'

The floor stopped humming, and a moment later, I heard the hatch clang open.

"I-is it over already? Can I open my eyes now?"

My question was answered by a muffled gigglesnort from Dr Kiwi.

"What're you laughing at? Didn't it work?!" I felt around desperately for the hatch, found it, and scrabbled through on all fours.

"...well... yuh? It worked? You didn't explode. Just umm... you look a little different now, is all." I could hear the grin in her voice...

"Oh dear... is it bad? Should I... should I maybe not open my eyes yet, Doctor?"

Kiwi hummed awkwardly.

"N-no? No? I mean yes, maybe?" murmured Twilight. I'm really not sure what I heard in her tone. Might've been concern? I heard hooves tentatively clop towards me.

Bugger this. Can't be too bad, right? I'm having a look.

I opened my eyes. Looked down at myself.

Oh.

Oh dear.

"Hang the fuck about, Kiwi. Why am I pink? Where where my hands? Wh-WHY THE HELL AM I SHORTER THAN YOU?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, YOU LITTLE TURD?" I bellowed, in the voice of a literal goddamn child.

"BWAHAAAAAAHAHAH! You're SO cute!!" Kiwi scree'd, scampering over to me to ruffle my hair.

Or... I guess mane now?

"Twilight, I'm a bloody horse! Nobody told me I'd become a bloody horse!"

"Kiwi did say your morphic frequency would be adjusted to fit the local Thaumic average? I uum... didn't expect you to umm... transform that much? Y-you do make a good pegasus though, if that's any consolation!"

A pegasus... ah... I can't say they didn't warn me. 'no thinking in the crucible' and all that.

"Yuh! You make a good filly too, for that matter!" squealed Kiwi happily, still ruffling my mane.

"You bloody what? A filly?!"

I searched desperately for my wedding vegetable.

It was not there.

Author's Note

EXPOSITION.

I'm aware this chapter is pretty much dreadful unimaginative satire. Had a busy few days! couldn't come up with anything particularly compelling :pinkiesad2:

More to come. Hopefully next chapter will be better :raritywink:

We're back off to Ponyville next! Who knows what awaits?! :D

The freshest filly

Real shame, that. I'd grown quite attached to my gentleman's sausage over the years.

Could be worse, I suppose. I could've burst. I may not be dead, but it's quite hard to maintain a level head when your body suddenly isn't the one you've spent your entire life growing up in. Gone were my hitherto elegant limbs - replaced by four squat, fluffy little powder pink marshmallows. My head felt heavy and strangely cumbersome - sat on a neck that was definitely longer than the one I was used to. a lilac wave of hair; my mane, I presumed, tumbled down across my face and partially obscured my vision. I even had a bloody tail.

I swished it experimentally, whilst Kiwi tittered and 'awwwwed' at me, still ruffling my mane.

"Twilight?"

"Hmm?"

"I would very much like to abscond the fuck out of here before the crazy doctor turns me into something worse than a horse. I don't want to end up as a... a sea cucumber or something."

"Oooh, don't worry! Your morphic field has already adjusted to the local context. Very appropriately, I might add. Besides that, there's no thaumic buildup left in you. Couldn't change you again even if I wanted to." Kiwi paused for a moment, staring at me with a slowly widening grin crossing her features. "You are just the CUTEST, aren't you?! Yuh! Yuh, you are!" She squealed, pouncing on me, and redoubling her ruffling efforts.

"What do you even mean, you absolute nutter?" I struggled against Kiwi's onslaught, desperately patting my mane down before she noogied it into an irretrievably tangled mess.

"Well, you were a horrible baboon, you are now a pegasus. Thaumic science, raw magic, and probably some of your uhh... weird baboon desires? That, is all it took! W-what were you thinking about, by the way? When you were in the crucible?"

"...weird baboon thoughts? Kiwi, I was thinking about how great it must be to have wings! To fly! How the hell is that weird?! Are you seriously trying to tell me that a-all... this, is MY fault?! I squeaked, gesturing at my dumb pink self.

"Yuh! Well, sort of? You really should've kept a clear head in there..."

"Uhuh? Ooookay... so, you're... you're actually SERIOUS. How are you even finding the presence of mind to argue this?! I mean, is it even legal to just uuh... pegasusify someone?"

Kiwi stomped a teeny hoof, and glared reproachfully at me. "Well yuh! I saved your life! And YOU'RE the one that wanted to fly! Don't blame ME for the wings! Besides..." she said, flouncing over to her beloved crucible, and patting its door. "You should be thankful nothing bad happened."

"N-NOTHING BAD? I literally don't have a DICK any more! What the hell is your definition of 'bad'?!"

"Ooookay! Okay!" Twilight simpered, sliding in between me and the increasingly irate Kiwi "Thank you Kiwi, but we really must be going! Come on Mister Bab-uum..."

"Oh, just call me Frankenstein's Monster, Twilight..." I grumbled, staring daggers at Doctor Kiwi.

"Frankenstein's Monster and I really must be going! Thankyoukiwigoodbye!" Twilight's voice teetered wildly on the edge of mania.

"Y'know Twilight, I was actually joking when I said 'call me franke-

The world went temporarily purple

-nsteins'..." Oh. Great. Another teleport. I've had just about enough magic for one day. I glared angrily about at Twilight's library. "You could've at least given me the time to call Kiwi out on her medical malpractise? She turned me into a horse you know, Twilight... I didn't ask for that."

Twilight ignored me. Her attention focussed instead on the... oh. The very irate Applejack. And look! An equally furious Big Mac, a very lachrimonious Braeburn, and to top it all off a worried looking blue pegasus. The four of them stood (well, three stood, one hovered) in the library's doorway, eyes fixed on Twilight.

"Whut were you thinkin' Twi?" Applejack's voice was dangerously calm. "Ya coulda' killed Braeburn. I know he's uuh... somethin' of an idiot, Twi" Applejack continues, patting the crying Braeburn on his back. "But he's mah idiot. He's family. And if it weren't for Rainbow-"

"Hah! If it weren't for me, you'd be a murderer!" The blue pegasus (presumably Rainbow) obnoxiously chimed, interrupting Applejack. "I caught the big doof as he soared past me on his way to Canterlot." Rainbow landed, and carefully struck a suitably condescending pose. "I know, I know... I'm awesome. No need to thank me, Twilight. Just doing my job." She beamed, clearly awaiting some form of praise for her efforts. A few seconds elapsed before it became clear that praise was not forthcoming - Rainbow unleashed the poutiest pout I've ever witnessed.

"Y-you ain't gotta go throwin' ponies T-Twahlahuuuuuuuh... uuuuh..." whimpered Braeburn, his voice faltered, mouth flapping uselessly as he locked eyes with his erstwhile tormentor.

Twilight's eyes glittered with cold, amethyst menace. "You and your repulsive tobacco habit nearly destroyed an ancient volume on the founding principles of alchemical magic. The only one of its kind. It was over three hundred years old." Twilight burned with an intensity that absolutely wilted Braeburn, he all but shrivelled under her gaze.

Well shit. Twilight is quite possibly the most murderous combination of violence, magic and purple I have ever seen. She's something between a miracle worker, and a natural disaster. Braeburn, the absolute lunatic, has the gall to come and piss her off? The balls on that pony...

Applejack's face fell as she let out a guttural honk of pure terror, and scrabbled at Braeburn in an effort to get him moving. Apparently she's witnessed enough of Twilight's booklust to know what happens next, I suppose.

"Ah'm sorry Twi! Ah didn't realise, Ah, uuh.... uhhhh!! He never told me! Ah'll uhh, take him away. Ah'll take him away! No need to lose your uuh... temper darlin'."

Twilight's eyes were on fire now. I don't mean that figuratively. No seriously, they were on actual fucking FIRE.

"TEMPER?!" bellowed Twilight, taking step after intimidating step towards Applejack, who pummeled more desperately than ever at Braeburn's shoulder, screaming herself ~~horse~~ hoarse at him, in a bid to get him up and running.

"Hey!" said a quiet voice behind me, diverting my attention away from the magic murderhorse. A claw dropped gently onto my shoulder as I turned to face Spike's nervous features. "Want some pancakes?" he continued, as Twilight levitated a table, and continued stalking towards her prey. "We'd umm... best stay out of this one..." came his nervous voice again, as I was ushered into the kitchen. "She'll cool off, eventually. She just... needs a bit of time, is all."

By the look of things, she'd require quite a lot of time to cool her head. The table clearly had not been enough for her, as she had by now added at least three beds, one wardrobe, a toilet seat, most of a bicycle, and (to preserve her dignity) an item I shall deign to describe only as 'distinct' and 'unmentionable', to her levitation spell.

Witnessing the final item flopping menacingly in Twilight's magical grasp, Braeburn got the message, and went pelting off towards the town centre, with Applejack in hot pursuit. Twilight careered after them with a feral howl, assorted clutter rattling behind her in a sparkly purple mist.

Well... that was a spectacle, and no mistake. I gathered myself for a moment, and gave Spike the coolest smile I could muster.

"I uuh... Yeah mate, please! Pancakes sound wonderful right about now."

Author's Note

Well, better late than never, I suppose? Sorry it took so long - been feeling a little down lately, cos reasons.

Chaos and quantum

Everyone knows what they say about cats, and curiosity. How fortunate it is then, that I am not a cat. I am instead, an absolute maverick. Thusly, I deemed it safe for me to satisfy my curiosity, and witness Twilight's reign of terror over the Apple trio. Spike suggested viewing proceedings from the library's balcony, which to my mind, seemed an excellent idea. He carried my plate of pancakes upstairs for me, and even a couple of chairs! (I'd have carried the pancakes myself, but seriously, find a heavy ceramic plate, LOAD it with pancakes, then try carrying it around in your teeth. You'll know damn well why I accepted Spike's generous offer).

So there I was, sat comfortably, munching down the fluffiest pancakes you ever did see, and admiring Twilight's remarkable capacity for utter carnage firsthand. Uhh... firsthoof, maybe? Whatever. Point is, the spectacle was quite something to behold.

In the intervening period between my being offered pancakes, and my making it to the balcony, Twilight had teleported the toilet seat (with pinpoint accuracy) around Braeburn's midriff. As he galloped about town in a blind panic, the toilet seat's lid gave him the absolute spanking of a lifetime. I could literally hear his progress through the cobbled streets. For the morbidly curious amongst you, it sounded a little like this; 'clop-clop *spank* "HYEAYUH!" clop-clop *spank* "H-HARDER" clop-clop *spank* "BYIG MAAAAC" clop-clop...' etc. I had a terrible feeling Braeburn was finding more enjoyment in this process than Twilight had perhaps intended.

Applejack didn't fare much better, being bodily lifted and stuffed into the wardrobe, which Twilight then slammed door side down onto the pavement. The remaining clutter carried in her levitation field was piled neatly on top of the wardrobe, very definitely trapping poor Applejack inside. The 'distinct' and 'unmentionable' item was nowhere to be seen; and given the heartfelt and sorrowful honking issuing from beneath the pile, I fear I could take a pretty accurate guess at its rough location. Ten out of ten for imagination, Twilight. That's... that's pretty disgusting, to be honest.

Twilight had then moved onto Big Mac, tossing his draft collar into a tree, well out of his reach. The poor fellow lay beneath it, utterly motionless; gazing up with quivering, tearful eyes. I have never seen a chap look so broken. With one simple act, Twilight had pretty much dismantled the poor guy on an emotional level. I was almost impressed by her cruelty; unrelenting, unfathomable, and pristine as it was. I eyed the despondent Big Mac with tentative curiosity, and horfed down the last morsels of pancake.

With mild surprise, I noted that the chaos hadn't spared Rainbow Dash, either. Somehow, she'd been wrapped up in the bicycle frame and deposited on a nearby rooftop, in a remarkably compromising position. She'd manage to wrestle one wing free though, and was flopping it around ineffectually. From the look if it, miss Dash is no Houdini. Either that, or Twilight really resented her saving Braeburn's life, and folded that bicycle around her very tightly indeed. Still... the unfortunate pegasus was practically vibrating with consternation, and naughty words - making every conceivable effort to worm her way free. I definitely admired her spirit... In that situation, I'd probably have given up long ago, and started crying.

"You uuh... think she's done yet, Spike? The others look pretty done, I mean..."

"Naaaaaah..."

"What, wait, seriously? Surely she should just be going for Braeburn anyway? Why're they all gettin-"

"Well do you want to try stopping her?" Spike cut me off in a firm, but polite tone.

"...Absolutely not."

"Yeeeeah... didn't think you would." Spike tittered, whipping out a pair of sunglasses from god know's where, and laying back to bask in the afternoon sun.

"Did I detect a hint of smugness in your voice there, Spike?"

He gazed flatly at me from behind his shades, offering me a wry grin.

"Maybe..? Honestly though, don't worry too much. Twilight wouldn't actually hurt anypony." He said, turning away to see how Big Mac was coping. "Not physically, anyway." He muttered, almost as an afterthought.

"That's... comforting, I guess?" I murmured, doubt tinging my voice. Desperately, I repressed the violent mental images of Braeburn's first encounter with Twilight.

Spike hummed non comittaly in reply, thought for a moment, then... "I've not seen you around here before, have I...?"

"I... yeah... you have, yeah. I just looked a little different the first time we met." I gestured to my fluffy pink self. "I'm afraid to say that I am, ugh, I was, 'mister Baboon'."

Spike was completely nonplussed. I guess this sort of magical fuckery was the norm around here. "So you're miss filly now, huh."

"I'm still getting used to not having a dick any more. I really don't need reminding that I'm a filly, mate." I muttered, bitterly. "Anyway! Thanks for the pancakes" I continued, in an effort to change the topic. "Any idea why I'm here? W-wait... maybe the better question is HOW am I here? And can I go back?"

Spike lifted his shades off, and peered at me sadly. "I don't think you can't go back... Twilight taught me a bit about this kinda stuff and uuh... I'll try and explain it to yo-"

"I'm stuck here?!"

Spike's anguished expression told me all I needed to know. "L-look... I'll do the best I can to help you understand, but you're not going to like it. Talk to Twilight if I can't make it clear for you - I'm just her assistant, after all... but..." he peetered off, and gazed at me soulfully.

I let out a shuddering breath, trying to settle myself. "...okay. Okay. I-I think I'm ready for this."

Spike looked away from me, eyes turned to the salmon pink sunset, as a cool breeze rippled across my mane, and sent an uncomfortable chill down my spine. Then, in a slow, quiet voice, he started.

"Imagine a doorway. It's... almost never there, and even when it is, it's almost never open. Our current understanding of Thaumic science? Well, it suggests that you were transported here by one of these 'doorways'.

"Doorways...?"

"Two magical planes that just so happened to align in just the right place, at just the right time, right on top of a thaum sensitive entity; that being you." Spike turned back to me, and I'm sure I could see the glitter of a tear. "You're not the first to be dragged between realities, I'm afraid. What happened to you, well... it's happened to others too. Discord, for one. Twilight says Celestia said that's how he ended up in Equestria. Sometimes, Equestrians go missing too. Gone, without a trace."

"And you guys can't just... stop any of this from happening, I guess?"

"We can't! Magic is unpredictable. Dangerous, sometimes. We have no control over these magical fields! A-and there's only one way home for you. Well... only as far as our current understanding of quantum thaumaturgy and planar theory suggest. Just one potential solution, and... it's one you won't like."

"...Lay it on me."

He let out a defeated sigh. "Remember where you awoke in Equestria for the first time? Well, if you stand in that exact spot for millennia, you might just be lucky. The magical fields that transported you here may align again, and they potentially could even take you back to your Earth. Then again... they might not..."

"MILLENNIA?! SPIKE, I... I don't have millennia!" Dread filled me to the core, as Spike drew in a deep shuddering breath.

"I-I'm sorry. I just... there's no easy way to say this. Unless you're functionally immortal, there's no going back. You need to make your peace with that. The sooner you do, the sooner you can work towards a new life here, in Equestria."

Well, that pretty much did it for me. I felt even more emotionally broken than Big Mac. "Still", thought my mind, as the world slowly went black, and the floor rushed up to meet my face... "Spike is a hell of a lot more intelligent than he looks".

Author's Note

Exposition chapter oh no :rainbowhuh: . Lemme know how boring it is!

The Great and Powerful pancake hoover

The muted tinkle of cutlery dragged me away from my dreams, back to the world at large, and to an overwhelming, voracious hunger for pancakes. Cracking an eyelid, I peered morosely about myself, taking in the surroundings. Or perhaps more accurately, taking in the stink. I lay in a very purple, VERY smelly bed. The bold assumption that this may be Twilight's bedroom crossed my mind. Heavens... what, I wonder, could possibly have led me to that conclusion? Perhaps the fact that I'm surrounded on all sides by literal walls of books? Maybe the flagrant overuse of scatter cushions? Possibly the hastily hidden chocolate wrappers, leaking from practically every nook and cranny in sight?

I sat a moment in quiet contemplation, appreciating Twilight greatly for her absolute mancave, and rather less so for her hygine. Her bed smells quite distinctly of... umm...? I pondered a moment - giving the duvet another tentative sniff.

Oh dear. Yes, the heady scent of stale farts. I shuddered with politely internalised horror, and desperately sought something other than Twilight's horrendous lair to turn my attention to.

The gentle sussuruss of a summer breeze through the library's leaves provided me with a welcome distraction - diverting my gaze to a window that opened onto a glittering night sky. The sight was utterly sensational. More than compelling enough to warrant a closer inspection! Summoning the will to extricate myself from Twilight's farty bed, I scrabbled at the duvet - freed myself from its confines, and plopped down onto the worn floorboards below.

I stood, captivated. The night drew me, as inexorably as potato salad draws ants to a picnic. I plodded, gaping, towards the window, as a gentle breeze caressed the embarrassingly fluffy powder pink tuft I sported on my chest.

'PFFFAHAAAAAha!!' I unleashed a gigglesnort fit to wake the dead. My chest tuft is incredibly ticklish... who'd have thought it?

There was a muffled crash in one of the rooms below, followed by a frenzied clopping* that grew swiftly louder. Apparently, this clopping heralded the arrival of my purple benefactor - for momentarily, her big worried eyes made an appearance at the top of the staircase.

"O-oh! Frankenstein's Monster, you're awake! I've been so worried abou-"

"Yes, hello. I would like pancakes. Also could you stop calling me Frankenstein's Monster please, Twilight?"

"P-pancakes? I thought you asked me to call you Frankensteins Monster earlier this evening!"

"Pancakes, yes. And the Frankenstein's Monster thing was a joke."

"W-wait... that now was a joke? Or earlier? Do you or don't you want me to call you Frank-"

"NO TWILIGHT I DON'T WANT TO BE CALLED THAT!"

She lifted a hoof to her chest clearly a little miffed.

"I uuh... I'm sorry, Miss Sparkle. I think I'm just a little hangry? Perhaps if I had some of those delightful pa-"

"The LAST thing you should be worried about, young filly, is pancakes!"

"I am in all fairness Twilight, a GROWING young filly."

"Go to sleep! I mean it! Food should be the last thing on your mind. Go get a good night's rest, so you'll be feeling fresh and ready to face your first day as a pony!"

I glared flatly at her. She stood implacable.

"Pancakes now" she said, (with all the sanctimonious wisdom she could muster) "Won't help you adjust to your new life here tomorrow. Sleep will!"

I yawned hugely.

"Do you see my point?" she deadpanned.

"Why yes, Twilight; I do see your point." I responded facetiously, eyeing her horn. She rolled her eyes at me.

Then an idea struck me... go go gadget childish manipulation tactics!

"All the same, Miss Sparkle, I may as well get used to all this pony stuff sooner rather than later. Don't you think? C-couldn't I just start adjusting now? I mean, considering everything Spike said, my situation seems pretty final, doesn't it? He gave me a quick... uuh... quanthaumsciencedoormagic lesson, whilst you were beating off most of the Apple family. He also gave me pancakes."

Twilight glowered.

"A-anyway!" I followed quickly, before she could indulge her evidently rising anger. "Long story short, I'm stuck here forever, and that ain't changing... soooo... there's no real point in just whining about it, is there?" I reared up, and plonked my front hooves on the windowsill, gazing poigniantly into the velveteen, star specked expance that stretched above me. "I... *SNIFF* I May as well suck it up, and do my absolute best to get on with life." I whimpered theatrically, doing my level best to tug at ole' Twiggle's heartstrings. OOOOH!! I definitely heard a sympathetic sniffle there! Am I getting through to her?!

"May I be candid for a moment, Twilight?"

Y-yes! Please! I... y-you..."

YES! She's breaking, I'm sure of it! Time to bring out the big guns! I turned my cutesie, shimmering, soulful eyes upon her.

"T-Twilight?" I stammered - a very intentional crack to my voice. "I think the best thing life can offer me at this point, is..."

"...Yes?

"*sniffle*...Is"

"YES?"

"more pancakes."

Twilight's expression shifted into one of mild exasperation "It's the middle of the night! You're a foal! You should be asleep! Y-you've just HAD pancakes! Besides, you shouldn't eat before bed, you'll get all tubby an-"

"Twiiiiiliiiiight!" I warbled plaintively, cutting her off mid sentence. "I'm awaaake! And I'm huuuuuuuuuuuungry! And your bed smelt of faaaarts!" I stomped around huffily for good measure, until an evil thought occurred... "I shall tell Rainbow Dash, Twilight. I shall tell her about the farts in your duvet."

There was an indignant squeak from Twilight's direction. A furtive glance, confirmed that I'd struck a weak point, as poor Miss Sparkle had flushed a charming shade of red, and was quite clearly lost for words. Perhaps a gentle prompt, might be in order...?

"...I could really go for some panca-"

"OKAY! Okay... J-just... don't say anything to Rainbow about the f... t...the far-"

"The farts?"

"Um. Y-yes. Quite. The uum... the farts..."Twilight backed hesitantly down the stairs, into the kitchen, blushing like an actual tomato.

That... actually worked? Well, I guess I'm getting pancakes now. If I had any degree of self awareness, realisation would've rushed over me in a cold cold wave the instant I'd registered the fact I was acting like an absolute child. Hah! It's almost as if Doctor Kiwi's crucible regressed my mind, along with my body.

Gosh, what a silly idea!

With the happy thought of pancakes on my mind, I waddled after Twilight's retreating form.

Author's Note

*Frenzied clopping LOL. Sorry.

Also, did anyone get my subtle unicorn joke? Or were my efforts a little... ahaha... pointless? ;D

Anyways! Dickhead is back! YEAH BOIIII! Pardon the wait. Load of my friends died of Covid, and I've been miserable.

Wow though... A thousand words dedicated to main char's quest for pancakes. I feel as if this 'story' has pretty much gone to shit. It'll go somewhere better eventually. Maybe. Perhaps I'll just rewright this chapter and we'll get some actual character/ story development. Who knows!

On that note, If you feel a little positive criticism is in order, would you mind giving me a bit of feedback, please? Only if you have the time and inclination, of course! Thank you :D