Episode 18: Dr. Whooves on the Daily Show

Back when Jon figured out Whooves’ identity, a part of him thought it was just a jaunty coincidence that he was a representation of the Dr. Who from the popular series of the same name. He was understandably skeptical of the idea which made him not actually think he possessed the ability to travel through time any more than the actors from the actual show, and yet here he was.

One of the reasons Jon never considered himself a religious man was because he was always interested in facts, not faith or opinions. Nothing got him hot under the collar like seeing someone call themselves a journalist while doing a supposed “newscast” where their opinions absolutely littered the narrative. The rule of investigative journalism was that you should never editorialize.

In addition, he also hated when politicians would get up on a national stage to enforce strict protocol on the citizens with nothing to go on but their own uneducated understanding of the topic. People making biased decisions on something they knew little about was an injustice that made him angry.

As such, Jon was only interested in what could be proven as real, but the reality of his friend Dr. Whooves was something Jon still found hard to believe. The way he reacted when Jon found out who he was and the things he implied while trying to flee, the many parables between him and the Dr. Who of his own world, the picture he took of an alternate Jon Stewart, and the way he knew that the flying turtle known as Tank would have struck him.

All of this added to one single qualifying fact that he could no longer ignore.

“You’re a time traveler,” Jon concluded, pointing his finger at Whooves who was giving him a fake round of applause.

“Well ding my head high; he finally gets it!” Whooves exclaimed. “And here I thought you were going to ask me for my name again.”

By this time most if not all patrons were already looking in the direction of Jon and Whooves’ table lest they miss another outburst from one of them. So when Jon stood and yelled in excitement few were surprised.

“That... THIS IS FANTASTIC! YOU CAN--ahem...” Catching himself mid rant Jon covered his mouth and whispered his conclusion into Whooves’ ears. “You can travel through time! I can’t believe it! I came here looking for a doctor and I got a time traveller!”

Throughout Jon’s buffet of emotions he had to deal with that day this was the first time he felt pure joy.

“Yes, I suppose that would be rather serendipitous,” Whooves commented. “You’re the first to ever find out about this... teeechnically.”

The way he ended his statement, never making eye contact and his words flowing like the fine wine Jon had been enjoying up until that point, made him wonder what exactly Whooves meant. In fact, Jon was wondering a lot more than that- like a child his imagination gave birth to idea after idea regarding the subject, like what year he was from and how did he make a device that could leap through time. However, Jon felt it better to set aside his investigative instincts and focus on what was most important, that being the very thing he set out to do in the first place.

“Well regardless I’m just glad that I’ve been blessed by this golden opportunity!” Jon said with a smile so big one could see every calcified imperfection. “With you on my side I can finally do it! I can finally save Trixie!”

A swell of heightened awareness was evident on Whooves by how his ears perked up and how his eyes were now locked on Jon rather than in any given location he wanted. His attention was now seized.

“...Excuse me?” Whooves asked.

“I’m saying that since you can travel through time you can help me save Trixie!” Jon explained which caused Whooves’ eyes to narrow like he was short sighted. “We could go back in time and make sure Trixie never gets hit by that energy blast! Hell, what am I yacking!? With you we could go back and make it so Queen Chrysalis never invaded my world in the first place!”

“Wait, that’s what you’re taking away from all this,” Whooves asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, it’s perfect! We’ll go back in time, warn Celestia about Chrysalis impersonating Lyra, she’ll stop her and we’ll stop the whole chain of events that lead to Trixie getting hurt!” Jon explained. “So whad’ya say Dr. Whooves! Will you help me save my friend!?”

With a straight face, Whooves looked at Jon then at his outstretched hand which was begging for him to give it a firm shake. Gently, as to not make any noise, he placed his cup of tea back on the table while taking a deep breath- doing so quickly, then again for a second time making it last even longer like he was preparing for an intense session of yoga.

“Have you lost your mind, Mr. Stewart?” he questioned as he dismissed his handshake. “Of course I won’t!”

As if gravity itself was amplified, Jon collapsed in his chair with his arm still stretched out, almost spilling his food in the process. From the way he looked and was breathing heavily one might suspect that someone had punched all the air out of his stomach; for Jon it felt like this was indeed the case.

“W-w-wait, w-what?” Jon asked, who was almost completely sure that he’d agree. “But... but, but, but, but you said you’d do whatever you can to help me!” In his newly acquired state of panic Jon could no longer control the volume of his voice.

“Yeah I did! But I meant I’d do whatever I can to help you in the here and now,” Whooves explained in the sternest of voices. “Presently speaking I’m afraid I can’t be of any help to you.”

“But you have to help me!” Jon roared. “There’s no other way! If you don’t Trixie will die!”

“This may be... but in times like this I’d remind you that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” Whooves advised in a cold tone which made an uprising of bile begin to escalate in Jon’s stomach. “Come now Mr. Stewart, you’re a smart man- I’m sure you realize the implications of rewriting the past... if I go back and save your friend who knows what damage I might do to the timeline... don’t you care about what might happen to the fates of others if I change the past?”

In reality; he did not.

“But... it’s just one pony,” Jon challenged.

“Okay how can I explain this; have you ever heard of the ‘Parasprite Effect?’” Whooves asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “The ‘Parasprite Effect’ is a theory that explains how even the smallest of disturbances can ripple through time later and cause unprecedented disasters. A parasprite in Ponyville lands on a bear's nose, the bear sneezes, spooks a pony, the pony bonks into a dragon, and the dragon flies aways and crashes into Canterlot Castle where it squishes Celestia, turning her into a pancake... do you want that Jon? Do you want Celestia to be a pancake?”

Having the moral ramifications of time manipulation explained to him jokingly, as if he were a child, did very little to calm Jon’s now restless temperament.

“But we had a deal!” Jon yelled. “You said you’d help me!”

“I’m sorry but not this way.” Whooves shook his head, still wearing his ever lasting smile. “I have a moralistic obligation to preserve the flow of time from being corrupted.”

“Oh really!” Jon sneered as he bent down and picked up the photo of himself from before. “Because it seems like you don’t object to doing just that when it suits you!”

In anger, Jon threw the picture of himself back at Whooves’ face which made the young Earthpony chuckle softly in response. Hearing, and indeed seeing, this argument unfold caused Choatcheck to waltz over to the end of the restaurant, not to try and calm them down or intervene but to put their check on their table- his way of letting them know that they were causing too much of a distraction and needed to leave.

“Ooooh Johnny,” Whooves smirked under his breath. “If you think this little meetup historically ever happens you’re dead wrong.

“What’chu say!?” Jon demanded to know.

“I said, your logic is flawed,” Whooves answered. “Changing your lunch order is a tad less detrimental to the fabric of time than going into the past and altering a major part of Canterlot history.”

Sitting back down, Jon’s anger vanished as quickly as it appeared, giving way to a look like he was channeling Oliver Twist.

“Okay! Okay, okay fine t-then don’t do that! Then how about we go back and just make it so Trixie doesn't get hurt!” Jon countered, now moving into the deal making stage of grief. “My show will still get invaded, Queen Chrysalis will still escape, and I’ll still get injured in the process but please for the love of God help me save Trixie! I’ll do anything; ANYTHING!”

Whooves was now greeted by Jon reaching across the table, not to strangle him but to clasp his hands around his hoof like he was praying to him. A reverent gesture he wanted no part of, so with a quick jerk of his foreleg he took back his hoof and instead grabbed the check that Coatcheck had left behind to see how much he owed.

“I’m sorry Jonathan, but what you’re asking of me is beyond, and I mean BEYOND the scope of simply saving a life,” Whooves firmly explained. “What you’re asking of me is to rewrite the course of history for your own reasons, though altruistic as they may be I can not, and will not abuse my powers for you in such an irresponsible way... my answer is still no.”

Hearing his answer in such a decisive manner was the final straw that shattered Jon’s already fragile psyche. With no other ideas at present and all hope seemingly lost Jon violently slumped forward and slammed his face into the soft surface of his mushroom table- as if someone had stabbed him in the back.

Whooves saw this but paid it no mind and after a quick glance at the check he noticed that in total the bill came out to a few bits to compensate for his ordering of tea the entire time. The rest of the bill was being forwarded to the castle so after reaching into his bag he produced a few bit coins, tossed them onto the tray, then placed the now fully paid bill in front of Jon’s head which was still buried into the table.

“Thanks for the lunch Jonathan, it was nice,” Whooves said before getting up to grab his bag.

There was no response to be had from Jon, instead he continued to wallow in depression. This was his last chance and he blew it.

“Oh and... one more thing,” Whooves added, which made Jon feebly attempt to look upwards. “The next time you want to talk with me... don’t go through my wife.” And with that Whooves made his way to the entrance of the restaurant where he would head home and make sure this encounter never happened.

The silence left behind, though preferred by the owner of the establishment, was enough to drive Jon mad. He didn’t want things to end this way but he knew not what to do or say. So for now he just watched, watched as his last and best chance for saving his friend walked away, presumably never to see each other again.

He was physically, and mentally, prepared to just sit there for the rest of his days, wondering over and over again what he could have done differently and what could have been. With Whooves close to the gate, Jon extended his hand like he was trying to grab ahold of him, but instead plopped it on the table to grab the check left behind by Coatcheck to see what the damage was. A large portion of the bill (that portion being his meal) was being sent to the Castle, leaving him free to leave whenever he wanted.

“Well,” Jon sighed. “At least I did something right.”

Seeing this large invoice in front of him, Jon was reminded of all the bills he had waiting for him back home. The thought occurred that perhaps it was time to head home, though he prefered to stay here and try some other way of helping Trixie he realized that it wasn’t going to happen. He was denied help from both a god and a time traveler- his batting average wasn’t very impressive.

Following in turn, Jon also got up from his seat and made plans to leave. Once again he had failed at what he set out to do and thus decided it’d be best to return home to his life, his family, and of course his job. But just as he was about to reach for his phone something sprung to mind.

“Wait... that’s it!” he thought. “That... that just might work!”

Before he could initiate his next move he was approached by Coatcheck who took the now paid off bill and placed it into his server’s apron.

“Thank you for uh... dining with us, Jon,” he said while looking at the food he had prepared for him, barely touched. “Um... did you enjoy your--”

“I gotta go!” Jon roared as he got up from his seat, almost tripping over his chair in the process.

“B-but sir!” Choatcheck motioned to the table. “What about your food?”

Feeling guilty that he didn’t eat much, Jon anxiously looked at Whooves who was already walking down the street and then back at his table.

“Uh... um! I-I’ll take it to go!” Jon roared. “Could I please get a to-go container? Okay thanks!”

With new found purpose, Jon rounded the table and dashed to the front entrance of the restaurant before Coatcheck could answer. While it looked like he had given up, he now had regained his sense of direction and had a crafty plan in the workings. After taking a sharp turn to his left, Jon was now bolting down the road, closing the gap between him and Whooves.

“Hey! HEY WHOOVES!” Jon yelled while flailing his arms. “Hey wait a second!” This sight was hard to ignore even for him.

“Mr. Stewart I already told you I can’t help you!” Whooves reminded him. “I’m sorry but you’ll need to find somepony else to--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, man, calm down,” Jon advised. “I know you’ve already made up your mind and I understand! I want to talk to you, is all!”

“Reeeeeaaaaally?” Whooves asked, unsure of what was more suspicious, his sudden good mood or the fact that his expert acting made it seem like he really was okay. “So you’re saying you no longer hold any grudges about me not helping you in saving your friend from dying a potentially painful and very imminent death?”

“What, that ol’ thing? Heh, water under the bridge,” Jon answered without any hint of malice in his tone or expression. “I just wanted to see if you could help me with another issue of mine... completely time travel free of course!”

“I see...” Whooves commented, unable to deny that he was now intrigued. “Go on then.”

“Okay I won’t bore you with the details so here’s the thing... I have a show to do tonight,” Jon explained. “And as it just so happens I don’t have anyone in mind as my guest to interview. So I was wondering--”

“You were wondering if perhaps you could have me on your show?” Whooves interrupted with suspicious eyes. “What are you up to Jonathan?”

“Nothing! I’m not up to anything I swear!” Jon lied. “All I’m saying is I need a slot on my show filled for tonight, you’re free, and I at least want to get one good thing from this encounter of ours... so whaddya say? Want to help a guy out?”

The way Jon looked and sounded as genuine as possible lead Whooves to believe that behind the mask of his he was up to something underhanded. And whatever it was it must have been something to do with Trixie; Whooves didn’t need time travel to see that.

“That’s it?” Whooves asked. “All this effort to find and expose me, all the begging, all the sob stories, and you’d settle for me being on your show?”

“Sure; why not?” Jon said with crossed fingers. “It’ll be fun! And I’m sure Derpy would love seeing her hubby on her favorite TV show.”

Tilting his head in thought, Whooves was caught off guard momentarily by Jon’s correct assumption. Mentioning his wife was just the trick to get him to stop and mentally list the pros and cons of this invitation which he still found suspicious but the idea now sounded better in his head. On the one hand he knew Jon was up to something but on the other hand he didn't want to pass up the opportunity to make his wife happy.

“If... okay if this were to happen,” Whooves added. “You do realize my life as a time traveler would be off limits right, and you’d have to promise not to tell anypony?... Also I’m allowed to bring my time machine on stage with me for security.”

“Of course, whatever you want!” Jon said while fighting every urge in his body to grin. “We’ll do things by your terms! I just need someone to fill space, that’s all.”

A little bit of sweat was beginning to form around Jon’s brow. The bait was cast and he was waiting for his prey to take a bite; unaware that in actuality he was playing with fire.

Whooves looked up at Jon but unlike the comedian did little to hold back the grin that was now forming on his face.

“You know what Jon... why not!” he stated. “Sure I’ll go on your show... I’ve been rather bored lately and could use a bit of fun!”

“R-really! That’s great, thank you so much!” Jon said, surprised his plan was working. Reaching out he snagged Whooves’ right foreleg and began to shake. “All you need to do is wait at home and I’ll have Celestia teleport you to New York right away! Again I can’t thank you enough! You won't regret this.”

“Oh I know I won’t.” Whooves smiled. “Now then! If I’m to be on TV I need to prepare... if you’ll excuse me I need to go home and get my affairs in order.”

With a sigh of relief Jon allowed him to walk away, surprised to see him arrive at his home so soon. His and Derpy’s home was only a few feet away from the restaurant as she said. Turning the knob to his front door, Whooves was moments away from walking past the threshold when he was approached one last time.

“W-wait!” Jon called out. “One last thing! How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

“Excuse me?” Whooves asked, turning to face his human friend.

“I mean... how do I know you’ll actually go through with the interview and not just... I don’t know,” Jon suggested as he tried to formulate his thought mid-sentence. “Like... how do I know you won’t just go inside your home, rev up your time machine, and go back to make sure our lunch meeting never happened?”

Whooves was surprised to hear how close Jon was to actually guessing his plan.

“A valid point on your part, I must say!” Whooves congratulated Jon. “I assure you on my honor as an Earthpony that I will follow through with my promise.”

To show he was serious he took a bow, like a theatrics student on play night, which in all did very little to convince Jon of anything.

“But I understand you want... proof of my earnestness. Am I right?” Whooves speculated, getting a nod in return. “Always the facts man aren’t ya, Stewart? That’s what I like about ya... here how ‘bout this... remember that letter my wife gave you?”

“Uh... the one of my son’s report card,” Jon rebutted, surprised he even knew about that. “Yes... I do.”

“Look at it again; I think you missed something,” he advised before finally shutting the door to his house.

Understandably confused, Jon had no idea what he was talking about. For a moment he just stood there unable to fathom what he meant. But deciding that the next logical step would be to do some actual investigation, Jon reached into his coat pocket and produced the letter that Derpy had delivered to him. Reaching into the envelope he unsheathed the letter and scanned it once, then twice to find that it was still the same report card from before, unchanged and genuine though now slightly worn.

Believing that he might have been made a fool of, Jon crumpled both it and the envelope into his hand with the intent of throwing it at the closest garbage can he could find. However it was only while doing this did Jon feel something was different. While he was molding his letter into a neat but messy little ball he noticed it felt as if something else was present in the envelope besides the report card.

“What the hell?” Jon said as he undid the damage he made and peaked into the wrinkled envelope for the first time. To his surprise he did see something, something he didn’t notice was present before. Reaching inside, he grabbed whatever it was and held it up to his face to get a better look. What he saw shocked him to no end. “No way.”

It was a picture developed on a polaroid identical to the one that Whooves’ camera had produced. However what really got Jon white in the face was the fact that it was time stamped for several hours into the future at around 10 o’clock, depicting Whooves smiling on at the camera while on the set of ‘The Daily Show.’ Or more specifically just at the entrance of the set, with Jon sitting in his desk in the background looking like he was in the middle of a monologue.

This picture proved that in the future Jon would be interviewing Dr. Whooves on his show.

Jon was awestruck that he didn’t notice this before, so much so that he would have stood there staring for so long as to miss his own show had Coatcheck not promptly come by and broke him from his stupor.

“Uh, Stewart?” Coatcheck said, snapping Jon out of whatever trance he was in. “Here’s your food.”

“Huh, what?” Jon said, shaking his head to wake up. Looking over he saw Coatcheck off to his side with a forced smile and a portable horse feeder that trainers packed hay into and fitted around a horse's mouth. “Um... what’s this?”

“Don’t you remember?” Coatcheck asked. “You wanted your food to go.”

To put it simply, Jon did not have time for this right now. Rather than following through with his usual ‘Are you serious?’ road of questioning, Jon simply took a deep breath, turned around, and made his way to the center of town.

“W-where are you going!?” Coatcheck called out.

“City Hall!” Jon called back as he dug his hand into his coat pocket for his phone. “I have some research to do.”

Instead of questioning his motives Choatcheck allowed Jon to leave. He might’ve asked one more time if he wanted his food or not but he decided against it since it would have been rude with Jon now on the phone.

“Come on pick up,” Jon said as his phone rang. “Pick up... pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick--”

“Hello?” a voice finally answered.

“Celestia! Hi, it’s me, Jon,” he said. “Listen, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Oh um... listen about today,” Celestia said. “I realize you might still be mad at me... and actually this isn’t really a good time, you see--”

“Celestia just listen!” Jon interrupted. “I don’t have time for this. I really need your help with something else now! You know Dr. Whoo-- I mean Time Turner?”

“Time Turner?” she acknowledged. “The Ponyville time keeper?”

“Yeah him! He’s also Derpy’s husband,” Jon added.

“Yes I know of him,” she answered.

“Good because he’s going to be on my show tonight,” Jon revealed.

“Oh! Oh I see.” Celestia was shocked to hear. “I didn’t think you’d be doing the show today. At any rate if you want to interview him that’s fine, as long as he agrees to it.”

“Ooooh don’t worry, he will,” Jon said, now in Ponyville Square with City Hall just in sight. “But listen, before you go teleporting him to me... there’s something about him you need to know first.”