Episode 18: Dr. Whooves on the Daily Show

Back in 2007 when HD broadcasting was starting to become more commonplace in basic television there was a spike in how much professional makeup was being purchased. This was no coincidence, since more and more families had access to high definition imagery through their plasma TVs they were starting to see just how imperfect some of the people could look while being filmed.

With the definition being so precise the average viewer could see every flaw and imperfection on their weatherman’s face, or the crows feet under the data analyst’s eyes on CNN. As a direct result more and more companies purchased highgrade cosmetics to make any given TV personal seem younger. This meant that makeup artists were working almost around the clock to make an actor or pundit look more youthful than they actually were; it was a good year to be a cosmologist.

This double edged sword known as high definition wasn’t a problem for Jon till a few years later when his show finally went HD. By then he and his staff already knew that without a heavy dose of powder, cream, and moisturizer he would look like he was terminally ill, so they were already well prepared. But even before then Jon knew what it was like to have his face appear on a magazine via some paparazzi or for a family member to take a picture of him during the holidays when they came over to visit.

He hated it because through the wonders of modern technology he was forced to accept that he was getting old and unsightly. This meant that in the coming years he would have a slight revulsion to cameras like an ancient savage terrified their soul was being taken.

Even in Equestria where high definition didn’t exist yet he wasn’t too eager about a pony taking his picture. Not because of his image but because in this world there were no digital cameras, only old timey flash-lamps with powder that ignited like dynamite or the models with giant flashbulbs attached on the top. Some Equestrian cameras were different in style or mechanism but one thing they all had in common was they could light up the night sky.

“GAAAAH!” Jon moaned as he rubbed his eyes which strained to see past the still present white blur left over from Whooves’ camera exploding in his face. “God dammit, not this again!”

Jon was by no means an army boy but by this point he’d have a new appreciation for those at the wrong end of a flashbang.

“Sorry about that Jonathan, but I find the best forms of photography are the ones that aren’t staged,” Whooves explained as the camera immediately produced a blank picture which was developing at a similar rate to Jon’s restored vision. “If it’s any consolation it looks like the picture came out perfect... yyyyyyep! This will do just nicely!”

By using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, which was just overhead, Jon made it look like he was trying to view something from far away but in truth still found it difficult to see anything other than white light. After another session of squinting and rubbing Jon’s vision did return, where he saw Whooves using a lone polaroid to fan himself.

“You could have at least warned me!” Jon complained while looking like he was doing his best Clint Eastwood facial expression.

“And have you just flat out turn me down? No, I’d rather not go through that again,” Whooves explained much to Jon’s confusion. “But enough of that because lookey here... I have the ‘proof’ you wanted so bad!”

Suddenly Jon’s still somewhat distorted vision was the last thing on his mind. Before he could even question what he meant Whooves placed the picture face down and using his hoof was now sliding it closer to him. His claim that his picture would all but convince Jon that he was a time traveler seemed too easy. This was what he wanted but there was an understandable moment of doubt.

“I’m sorry but...” Jon said, pausing to put his hands up like he was trying to push something away. “...but how exactly is a picture of me going to--”

“You’ll see,” Whooves interrupted while carefully putting his camera away. “Trust me.”

Jon wanted nothing more than to do just that but given his precarious position he couldn't afford to just blindly place his trust in someone he’d only just met. Still, time was of the essence so following his advice Jon slowly reached out and grabbed the picture, quickly recoiling his hand back afterwards like he was scared Whooves would attack.

The attitudes of Stewart and Whooves couldn't be any more different regarding the situation. Even though Jon’s only task at present was to look at a simple picture he couldn't help but feel nervous while Whooves was waiting patiently, all smiles and occasionally taking a sip of his tea.

“What the hell are you up to?” Jon thought as he pressed the photo close to his rapidly beating heart. As if he was scared to face the truth Jon leaned forward to address the self proclaimed time traveler, but before he could he was cut off.

“Just take a look.” Whooves interjected, adding a wink. “You’ll figure it out.”

Since the moment Jon met Whooves he had the unshakable feeling he was hiding something from him, a feeling that remained present now as well. In the days to come he wouldn't even know the true extent of what was at a play here but to his credit he tried his best to figure it out. His first step in trying to understand was turning the picture over as he, after taking a deep breathe, brought it close to face while simultaneously putting his reading glasses on.

And to his utter surprise what he saw was beyond disappointing.

“That’s it?” Jon said in the most dismayed tone he could muster. “This is what you wanted to show me?”

Just as Jon had predicted the picture was what anyone would have expected. The image shown on glossy white film was that of Jon sitting on the opposite end of the table with his hands up to protect himself from the incoming flash that followed. The background was of the house he often leaned on and in the foreground were all the various plates of food he ordered beforehand. The picture’s only saving grace was that while it wasn’t the best looking picture of Jon it wasn’t the worst either. All in all, very anticlimactic.

For all of Whooves’ boasting Jon’s mind had ran wild with the idea that this little experiment was more than it seemed. He imagined that Whooves’ camera was some sort of futuristic device designed to transport them to an alternate timeline, which is why he felt the need to blind Jon beforehand. Sadly Jon found this was not the case. A part of him also wished that after the picture was taken he would realize that through some kind of advanced science he’d reverted back 30 years like when he met with Princess Luna. This more than anything was pure wishful thinking since all he got for his trouble was a picture. A picture of an old man sitting on a giant mushroom in a land filled with talking ponies.

“I... I don't understand,” Jon said, turning the picture over to examine the underside on the off chance he missed something. “This is just a picture of... of me.” The way Whooves chuckled as a response made it seem like he knew he’d say that.

“Look more closely,” Whooves hinted. “I’m sure you’ll find something... most interesting.”

Although Jon wished Whooves would just come out and say it rather than making him jump through hoops he had to admit a part of him wanted to figure this out on his own. So rather than complain Jon followed his advice and looked at the picture again, scanning it from top to bottom to see if he could spot what Whooves was referring to.

Even at a second glance he couldn't see what was so important; by all accounts it was just a picture of Jon moments before going temporary blind from a flash of light. To help himself out Jon extended his arm to get a better view of the picture in its entirety before bringing it close to his face to focus on one spot in particular.

He then began to examine the picture at different angles while squinting his eyes, which amused Whooves to no end. To him it was like watching a confused animal look at itself through a mirror. He could have given him a hint or just outright told him what to look for but Jon would soon figure it out on his own... Whooves knew this would happen.

“I uh, I gotta tell ya Whooves I’m not seeing anything here,” Jon admitted as he placed the picture back on the table so he could rube his eyes. “This is just a picture of me and my food without any... wait a minute!”

As if his life depended on it Jon quickly snatched the photo off the table so suddenly that he almost knocked over his bottle of wine in the process. With photo in hand he began to examine both it and his side of the table, alternating between looking at one then the other so quickly he was starting to get a head rush. Whooves saw this and smiled with the knowledge that he had figured it out.

“I don’t... this is... this can’t be possible,” Jon said to himself in a panic. “What... the hell!?”

With new understanding Jon continued to look at the picture and at his spread of food looking for differences like the picture game that came in the newspapers. At first when Jon viewed the polaroid he didn’t notice that a small detail was different; something was in the picture that by all rights shouldn't exist, and yet did.

“This can’t be right!” Jon stated.

Placing the photo back on the table, he found it odd that such a minor difference could cause him such anxiety and yet there he was, looking at a picture of himself, sitting on the same mushroom table, with the same white fence just to the left of him, the same house behind him, and the same food laid out in front of him: A chickpea sandwich with a side of broccoli, one large helping of eggplant spread with extra garlic bread, one soybean stew, and a fruit salad... except this was where the similarity ended. Within the glossy surface of the picture Jon saw something he didn’t notice before, something which caused him great disbelief.

There placed next to his fruit salad, untouched, was a small bowl of red liquid resembling a crater filled with lava. An ordinary bowl of soup, a complimentary dish one would get for free when ordering an entree but therein lied the paradox that had Jon so befuddled. Slowly moving his sight back to his own table, Jon traced his eye to where the soup in the picture would theoretically be only to find a small plate filled not with soup but with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and olives.

The reason Jon was rendered temporarily speechless was because he was perplexed as to why the picture of him, which was taken not a few minutes ago, depicted him with a bowl of soup when he clearly told his waiter at the time of his order that he preferred the salad.

“W-what kind of trick is this!?” Jon asked as he used his finger to scratch at the picture’s surface like it was a lottery.

“No trick,” Whooves answered.

“Then how did you... do that? Jon continued to ask.

“Time travel,” Whooves answered with such meditative composure that it completely took Jon by surprise, like he was expecting a more sensible answer.

“But... but that’s impossible,” Jon said.

“Jonathan with all due respect you’re currently having a conversation with an anthropomorphic pony on a giant mushroom in a world filled with magic and you were teleported here by a god who controls the sun... I think it would be within your best interest if you kept an open mind. BUT I realize this can all be very inconceivably enigmatic for you so allow me to explain to you and the rest of the class how this goes,” Whooves offered after a quick clearing of his throat. “It may seem trivial, but think back to when you were offered a side dish between soup or salad. The you that thought ‘I rather fancy myself a nice bowl of soup’ after a long deliberation, and the you that thought ‘you know I think a nice salad would really be the Dog's bollocks,’ actually both exist. Except that your fates now diverge at that point... that divergence was caused by me when I went back in time and altered fate. To put it simply there are two realities, I’m from a reality where you chose the soup and then using the power of science came here to this reality where you chose salad... this picture proves that.”

Jon was speechless. Despite desperately wanting to believe him now that he was confronted with this bold possibility he was starting to doubt all he knew. “Did this mean the Whooves I was talking to is now somewhere else?” “How did he make me change my order?” “How many times has he used his time traveling on me without my knowledge?” “Is he really doing this or am I just being too gullible?” All these questions and more were going through his mind, though his dumbfoundedness prevented him from asking any of them.

“Remember before how I said alternate dimensions and realities are a very typical occurrence in my line of work? This is what I was referring to,” Whooves explained. While the Jew from New Jersey was preoccupied with trying to understand the concept of multiple universes Whooves reached over and procured the plate of salad that he rewrote the fabric of time and space to create. “Now then, there’s also another reason why I made it so you’d order the salad and it’s not because I think you should lose some weight although to be honest if you lost a couple of stones it wouldn't hurt that’s all I’m saying... what was I talking about? OH RIGHT!”

Tilting to the side, Whooves stretched a foreleg over the fence and discarded the untouched salad onto the ground for any woodland creature to sample.

“Hey... I was going to eat that,” Jon complained even though his tone sounded as if he didn’t care. Sitting back up Whooves gave the now cleared plate to Jon.

“Here we are! Now then, be a good chap and hold the plate up like this.” Whooves instructed by lifting his hoof to the side of his face. Not knowing where this was going, and still struggling to understand what was going on in general, Jon blindly followed.

“Li... like... this?” Jon said.

“Maybe hold it a little further away from your face,” Whooves advised, followed by Jon faithfully complying. “Ah perfect! Hold that plate tightly and stay in that position!”

Following his instructions, Jon did just that, because defying the will of someone who could travel in time and rewrite history wouldn't be the smartest thing he’d ever do in life. And yet there was still a small part of him that thought that perhaps this was all some kind of scam. It was basic human nature to be suspicious of such things but for all intents and purposes he was almost certain that Whooves was on the up and up.

In time though his remaining moments of skepticism would shatter... just like the plate in his hand.

“Sooooooo....” Jon cooed after nothing happened for a good minute. “What exactly am I--”

Before he could finish his inquiry the plate he was firmly grasping exploded into tiny bits as he felt something heavy collide with it. The sound of the perfectly crafted ceramic plate exploding caused everyone in the restaurant to once again focus on Jon’s table; this time they were treated to the sight of Jon hunched over with this hands over his head like he was being attacked.

“What the hell was that?” Jon thought, feeling as if he was under fire as he slowly lifted himself up while looking in all directions. The first thing he saw was a slightly amused Whooves who promptly motioned with his head for Jon to look over to his left. Carefully Jon peaked over his side to the ground where he saw shards of broken plate strewn about, but that wasn’t what immediately grabbed his attention.

At first it looked like a moss-covered rock had been thrown at Jon, which was now sitting in the center of the broken plate. But then something unexpected happened, the “rock” grew two pairs of legs and a head revealing itself to be a turtle wearing aviator goggles. Before he could examine it further Whooves walked over and picked it up, revealing it also has a blade attached to its shell like a helicopter.

“T-that’s the flying turtle from before!” Jon thought, now confirming that what he saw was actually true since Whooves was indeed holding it.

“Ah, perpetual motion,” Whooves commented as he began to wind up the turtle’s blade. Pulling a foreleg back, he chucked the turtle into the air like he was tossing a football, from there it dipped only to regain altitude and fly away in no particular direction. “Funny to think that in this time it’s only available through magic.”

Sitting back down in his seat, Whooves noticed that Jon was now staring at him with a disbelieving look about him. Mouthing out the word “how” but not quite finding the will to actually say it.

“You’re wondering how I knew that would happen, aren’t you?” Whooves guessed, which made Jon nod. “Well let’s just say that in another timeline you weren’t so lucky... and instead of a plate ol’ Tank there collided with your noggin, leaving you with a headache and a rather impressive bump.”

Placing his hand on where the flying turtle would have landed, Jon slowly moved his fingers across his scalp.

“My God,” he said. There was no longer any doubt in Jon’s mind.