I awoke.
Vague memories of crashing into my bed after a long night of fighting were the first things that filled my mind. But the room around me wasn’t home. No familiar and comforting bed beneath me, no soft morning sunlight flitting through my window’s screen, and no pastel walls.
Instead, I was greeted by white walls, a white door and a white table. All of this was illuminated with the awe-inspiring off-white of a few fluorescent bulbs.
Bobbing my still-drowsy head around, I inspected my surroundings. Somepony had shoved me, propped up on a simple white chair, in front of the table. Across from me was the door, its cracks hardly discernible from the wall it occupied. Airtight seal, I ventured before mumbling, “Control freaks.”
My eyes alighted on a glass of water just as my brain processed the dryness of my mouth. Well, somepony was awfully thoughtful. Reaching out, I grabbed the glass and brought it closer, rolling my eyes as I felt its lukewarmness. Thoughtful my flank. Those idiots at the Organization couldn’t get it right, could they?
The door whooshed inwards on well-oiled hinges, revealing a white earth pony dressed in a black suit. He even had those shades that only imbeciles thought were cool.
“Really?” I asked, pointing with my muzzle at his sunglasses. “What’s up with the shades? Will you be asking me if I like my pills blue or red?” My speech was slurred, as if I’d had a bit too much to drink. Reminded me of college.
The anesthetics were still numbing me a little. I tried to recall a few hangover-relief tricks from med school; unfortunately, most involved a pitcher of vodka or a sword, and I was woefully lacking in both areas.
Mr. Suit-and-tie ignored me and trotted forward to a chair opposite my own, the door shutting with a sucking sound behind him. It ground across the floor as he dragged it back before plopping his butt onto it. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a clipboard and tossed it on the table, letting it smack against the surface.
An awkward silence loomed. I arched an eyebrow at him. You know how you’re not supposed to snub the check-up teams? Well, I didn’t pay much attention to that rule. Really, these numbskulls are asking for it. I mean, suit and tie, really?
“How old are you?” I asked, leaning forward and trying to see the face beneath the glasses.
The agent was taken aback, that much was apparent as he pushed away from me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish taken out of water.
My own eyes crawled across him, inspecting, taking their time, letting the sucker sweat. “You can’t be more than twenty!” One of my pretty and once-manicured hooves slammed on the table. Note to self: charge Organization for hooficure. “I demand somepony with experience, not this twit!” I shouted at the door, knowing that a pony sitting behind was taking dutiful notes.
He coughed, a bright red splotch appearing on his whiter-than-white cheeks. I idly wondered what would happen if he stood in the sun for too long. Would he become brown, or would it be all red and puffy?
“Miss, Miss--” He glanced at the clipboard. The doofus hadn't even memorized my name! The gall! “Miss Minuette—”
“Oi! No real names here, kid. Didn’t you read the manual?”
He jumped on the defensive, like a kid chastised by mommy. “I have read the manual!” The awkward silence was back.
Mr. Suit-and-tie shook his head, eyes closed as he rubbed his temples. “I’m sorry, Agent Colgate. I've acted in a less than professional fashion,” he said, the apology sounding almost genuine. “Can we please press on to the matter at hoof?” Well, wasn’t he just a cute little well-behaved munchkin?
I smiled.
Nah, kidding, I smirked. “Go on.”
“Yes, thank you.” He coughed again, and once more my eyebrow arched over my pretty blue eyes. Maybe he had a cold? “Last night, in the Ponyville sector, you confronted a subject by the name of Ditzy Doo. Is this correct?”
“Huh, so that’s her name. I always called her Derpy Hooves. Yeah, it’s correct.”
He nodded and continued. “You accosted Miss... Doo over a level-five containment breach at approximately eight thirty—”
“Nineteen fifty-three.”
“Pardon?”
I rolled my eyes again. Note to self numéro-deux: visit optometrist, all this eye rolling can’t be good. “That was the time. Do I have to convert to normal for you? Switch the time zone? Show you where the big hand goes in relation to the little one?”
He had enough decency to blush. You know, he was starting to be cute. Agent stick-up-his-bum Jr., aka: Cutie Pie. “No, that’s not it, Miss Colgate. It’s just that our reports indicate that the time wa--”
I got up, almost climbing onto the table as I brought my flank around. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing at my rear end.
“It-it’s your cutie mark?” he said. The bugger was salivating, I swear.
“Yeah, and what do cutie marks represent?” I wiggled my behind a little.
“What we’re good at?” he answered like a scared little foal caught with his hoof in the cookie jar.
“Yeah, now, I’ll give you one good guess, only one, as to why I have an hourglass stamped on my ass.”
He gulped. “You’re good at telling time?”
My back fell into the seat as a smug smile spread across my awesome face. “Go on, kiddo, and change the timestamp.” Idly, I pointed at his clipboard and waited with the patience of an army of angels as he made the necessary corrections. The hoof-tapping-on-desk gesture was just for ambiance, really.
“Okay, Agent Colgate. I believe it might go faster if you would just tell us what happened that night.” Finally, the boy spoke words of wisdom!
“Well, all right. It was getting late, and I was returning home from my cover-up job as an at-home German instructor, when I saw a filly run across the road in an awful fright. Poor thing was scared outta her wits. So I accosted her, asked her what was wrong. She spewed out some beeswax about her mom screaming and hollering while clutching her face.”
“Did you administer the memory replacement spell?” he asked, totally interrupting me.
“Nah, she was just a filly. You guys can run after her later.” Cutie Pie groaned a little. The poor munchkin, all that paperwork to fill out... Smiling, I carried on with my epic tale. “I figure I had myself a level-two case on my hooves: ‘Dental malpractice leading to patient pain’. You know, twenty minutes of knocking her out and magicking her molars or some such. So, I follow the filly back to her home. Well, it turns out I was wrong. It was a level-six, maybe -seven.”
The agent across from me looked up from his note-taking, disbelief written all over his face.
I ignored him and prattled on, leaning my hind legs on the table as I swung the chair back. “Miss... Ditzy Doo, is rather well-known for her voracious appetite for muffins, you see. She eats them all day long, morning till evening. I watched her for a while when I moved to Ponyville, thinking that she might be a future case. But her file was as white as her teeth, so to speak. Well, lo-and-behold, Miss Hooves had gotten herself a bad case of gingivitis that, as they’re prone to do, became cavities.”
His looked up from the clipboard. “And this was a level-six?”
“Or -seven... See, Derpy didn’t care much for a little bit of pain while chowing down on her muffins, as long as she got her fix. She’d developed an abscess, her face all puffy.” I shook my head, both out of pity for the mare’s pain, and to dramatize the scene a little. “Derpy was crashing around the house, screaming and crying, the whole nine yards. Fortunately, she lived in this small-ish shack on the edge of town. Cute little house, well-maintained, little flower bed and something of a backyard for the filly...”
My hooves were planted, my back was lowered, and my centre of gravity was right where I wanted it. Still, despite how prepared I had felt entering the rustic Ponyville house, I was now uncertain. Derpy Hooves was right there, clutching her face where it was puffed up. Something about this was really wrong, and I couldn’t quite put my hoof on it.
“Hi there, Derpy. How you feeling?” I cooed, as if I were talking to a scared animal. Bah, who am I kidding; when you’re in that sort of pain, you become an animal.
Derpy slumped forwards, tears streaming over the bulges on her face. My eyes moved away, just for a second to inspect the wreck that was left of her house. The couch had been bucked. A lamp that was still on was tipped onto its side in one corner. A muffin lay crushed across the linoleum floor.
That was my first mistake. She charged at me, screaming like a madpony. Level-two my fat flank.
My back smacked against the floor as I rolled out of the way, feeling the rush of air where her wing swiped by me. My roll ended and I landed standing right behind the crazed mare. “Sorry Derpy,” I said before rushing forward. I figured that if I could get under her, I might just be able to take her down. My hooves skidded along the floor just as Derpy started turning around. I found myself right beside her, so I did the only thing I could. I headbutted her.
Just then, when she was so close to me that I could tell she’d eaten onions in the past few hours, I teleported us.
Cutie opened his mouth, probably to remind me that there was nothing about headbutting in the rulebook and that I was supposed to be all stiff about this report. I ignored him.
“You know what happens to a level-seven?” I asked.
He blinked twice before his toaster of a brain popped an answer. “Th-they go semi-catatonic, then mad. Usually caused by the pain. They will attack anything they perceive as a threat before trying to self-operate.”
At least he knew how to quote from the textbooks. He earned himself a small nod on my part.
“Right, well, Miss Doo was full-on aggressive. I mean, you should have seen her. The one eye that wasn’t swollen shut was totally glaring at me. Worse case I’d seen in a long time. Can you imagine the pain she was in? And for so long without even going to the hospital—”
“Where were you at this time, Agent Colgate?” he interrupted. Seriously, one second, I was gallivanting through my story about how I was clearly superior to everypony else and the next, he was asking me questions!
It was a stupid question, too. “I went to my safe zone. You know, spot far from prying eyes and listening ears.”
“And how did you get there?”
This time, I blinked dumbly at him. Hadn’t I just answered that one? With a forehoof, I pointed at my head, shaking off the suspicion that his eyes had been on my flank the entire time. “See that thing sticking out? It’s called a horn. Now, I know you’re feeling all diminished cause I’ve got a bigger horn than you, and the fact that mine can do magic is kinda daunting, but don’t worry, magic’s...” I paused, thinking for a few seconds before reaching an incredible conclusion that would have shocked all of Equestria were it made public. “Actually, there’s no real disadvantage to it. Well, other than sucky headwear.”
He was blushing again, and he even squirmed a little in his seat. Maybe I should apply to be the one taking these interviews. I’d need to purchase faux-leather pants... and a riding crop...
“Could you detail the location a little?”
“Sure thing, sweet-ums. Are you aware of the old Alicorn Sisters’ Castle? Big old thing. All stone and archways...”
The teleportation spell fizzled and crackled in the air before releasing Derpy and me onto the cold hard slabs of the stone flooring. The air was charged with an electric tingle, both from the danger of the location, and the situation.
My first thought was to look around for locals, but the spot was clear save for a few weeds swaying in the breeze.
“Locals?” he asked. Always with the leading questions, this Cutie Pie, huh? He sounded like my shrink.
“Nothing you’ll have to worry about, just a few manticores, dragons and diamond dogs. We don’t cater to them, do we?” He shook his head. “Good. Anywho, Derpy was a little miffed. So, she attacked me...
The grey pegasus climbed shakily onto her hooves, deep grunts and growls reverberating from her chest as she turned and faced me.
I rotated my shoulders and got ready for one heck of a fight.
Then, she spoke.
“Muffins?”
What kind of pony says “muffins” right before attacking a total stranger? Well, Derpy did.
Seconds before she crashed into me, I closed my eyes and concentrated. With a zap and an epic flash of white, I teleported behind her. She was dangerous, but it was okay; I had a plan.
Pegasi are fast, did you know that?
It only took a blink for Derpy to spike up into the air and twist towards me. She screamed a scream akin to that of a banshee who stuck its foot under a steam-roller.
Here’s another little fact to take note of: hooves hurt, especially when they smack you at eighty kilometers an hour.
With an ‘oomph,’ I flew backwards, thumping against the ground limply before sliding across the stone floor.
That’s when I decided to switch the plan around a little. So, I summoned my toothbrush above me as I hopped back onto my hooves.
Derpy was a few meters away, searching around her slowly. I saw her muzzle twitch right before she faced me once more. I swear she smiled. It was damned creepy, too.
She pawed the ground, like a bull readying itself to charge.
She charged, obviously, her hooves crushing the ground in a constant rhythm as she closed the distance between us, her wings beating to give her that extra rip-Colgate’s-face-off boost.
I did the first thing I thought about, and swung my brush.
The bristles bent in every direction as they smashed into her face. Her body jerked to the side before crashing into one of the stone pillars. Stone flew everywhere before it toppled over.
Derpy lay there, unmoving, except for her chest’s up-and-down motion.
His writing stopped again. This was going to take forever if he kept starting and stopping. “Your toothbrush? You defeated a... a level-six with a toothbrush?”
I climbed onto the table and waved my free hoof around indignantly. This kid was dissing my brush. “Not just any brush! The Super-Humongo Six-Thousand. It weighs fifty kilograms and is three meters long. The bristles are made from Adamantium. Derpy didn’t stand a chance.”
“A-and where did you store the... the brush?”
“What, you’ve never heard of hammerspace? Anyway, a few good whacks and she was out cold.”
“And then what?” he asked.
“What ‘what’? I operated. First, I placed her into a coma. Then, I opened her mouth wide while teleporting some equipment over. I placed a brace into her mouth while charging up my magic operated drill. You have to be careful when opening open abscess, all that pus flying everywhere...”
Cutie Pie lifted a hoof in surrender, his face reaching new levels of whiteness. “Okay, I understand.”
“You guys should be caring for her somewhere. Not my problem anymore.” I leaned back into the chair, crossing my forehooves in the same way my mom did when a discussion was over. It sorta had the desired effect.
He got up and pulled away from the table, pen still in his muzzle as he made a few last-minute corrections. “Well, thank you, Agent Colgate. That should conclude our interview.” See, told you he was the stick-up-his-bum formal type. “I’ll just send it to the chei practitioners and the ethics community.”
“The who?” I was honestly stumped, first time I’d heard of that bunch. Immediately, I labeled them as more numbskulls. Maybe there was a confederation of them. Numbskull-United, The Federation of Still-Free Numbskulls, Numbskullia.
He glared at me, exasperation oozing off of him. “The people that make sure what you're doing is okay, then they pay you.”
Oooh.
He turned around then, tossing the board onto his back, and walked over to the door. By some unseen command, it hissed open and he walked out. “See ya, Cutie Pie!” I called after him, moments before the door shut.
And then I was alone. Alone in the white room with the white walls and the white smoke.
Ah, horseapples.
I awoke.
But this time on familiar ground: slumped onto my side, on my bed, in my room. I licked my lips and tasted the inside of my mouth, wondering what was in that gas that made it taste like bananas.
Fumbling out of bed, I found my wobbly legs beneath me and slowly walked towards my window, ignoring the piles of dirty laundry dotting the floor. I almost tripped over the dentist’s outfit I had worn for Nightmare Night, before reaching my screen to the outside world.
Ponies were wandering the quiet streets of Ponyville, some hawking wares while others perused the open market, talking to friends or bartering with smiling sales ponies.
Smiling. Everypony smiled, their white teeth flashing in the sun.
I caught sight of Derpy Hooves and her little daughter, both smirking at each other. I’d be lying if I denied the burst of pride at seeing them both. They didn’t remember. None of them would.
Here I was, saving Equestria, one smile at a time.
“Wonder if Cutie Pie has a number?”
Written for the SALT September Prompt. It was either this, or the next chapter of Of Challenges and Kisses (cue evil laughter).
Edited by:
-Fred the Saiyan
-Cpl Hooves
-Your Antagonist.
-StapleCactus
I wanted to try first person —both informal and action— This provided a method to do so.
Hope you enjoyed it.
