Episode 18: Dr. Whooves on the Daily Show

It was not uncommon for guests to talk about their friends and family when being interviewed, in fact it was encouraged so that fans could get an idea of their more personal life. For the host the trick was not making it so the guest of the hour was less interesting than the people he or she talked about.

This was rarely an issue but as Jon continued to interview Whooves he found it hard to not get invested in the trials and tribulations of Zenith.

“You know... after hearing all that Zenith did, everything he went through, I’m starting to think that perhaps you’re not as interesting as I thought you were,” Jon teased while idly gesturing his hand at him. “Okay so you made a time machine with your bare ha--hooves sure, but this guy... he was a scholar who started a revolution... I mean how many revolutions have you started lately?”

With a brief chuckle, Whooves placed the bottom of his hoof over his mouth to hide his snarky grin. He knew his host was only being facetious but nevertheless he felt the need to defend himself in this instance.

“Well maybe this will help convince you that I’m the right pony for this interview,” Whooves offered while stretching his forelegs over his head. “Do you remember how I first met my hero Zenith?”

“Uh yeah, I do,” Jon answered. “Didn’t you say you met him in college... and that he was your professor?”

“Ah good, you remember,” complemented Whooves, placing his hooves behind his head in a relaxed pose. “Did I mention that I was only 10-years-old at the time?”

Jon picked the wrong time to take a sip from his mug of water.

“W-wait how-- you... you were ten when you got... admitted into college!?” Jon said while lightly choking on his water.

“Well... technically nine and a half but I assure you I looked quite mature for my age,” Whooves snickered.

“Wow, I mean... my son’s ten and uh t-that kid still has trouble putting his socks on,” Jon jokingly admitted. “I knew you were a smart guy but... but wow... to think you were a college student at only ten years of age.”

“Student?” Whooves tilted his head in confusion. “I was a professor.”

“SON OF A BITCH WHOOVES!” Jon roared as he slammed his hands on the table so hard he immediately began to furiously waft them back and forth.

“Did I not mention that either?” Whooves pretended to admit.

“No... you didn’t!” Jon answered. Had this been a boxing match that would’ve been a knockout punch. “Why--how... tell me, how does one become a professor of a college at the age of ten?”

“Simple; because I’m a genius. A child prodigy,” Whooves answered before giving a tempered sigh. “At least that’s what I was always told when I was young.”

“Oh really?” Jon said, almost like he didn’t believe that he was actually telling the truth. “Well then what class did you teach? What uh... what did you have a teaching degree in?”

“Name one,” Whooves challenged.

“What?” Jon said.

“Name a field and I can almost guarantee I had at least a masters degree in it,” Whooves explained. Again Jon looked skeptical yet at the same time rather curious; he decided to play along.

“Okay uh... philosophy,” Jon said.

“Have one,” Whooves answered.

“Mathematics.”

“Have one.”

“Physics.”

“Have one.”

“Medicine.”

“Have one.”

“Engineering.”

“One of my first ones.”

“Criminal justice”

“Have one.”

“Uh... Botany?”

“Ooooh that was one crazy summer,” Whooves chuckled. “But yeah, have one.”

“Jesus Whooves, how does a child get so... so, so, so smart!?” Jon asked.

“Eh, I’m no pony special really,” Whooves offered. “I’m just a pony who's really good at remembering things.”

“What do you mean?” Jon asked.

“I mean... if I read, see, hear, or even taste anything I’ll remember it,” Whooves answered as he tapped the side of his head. “It stays up here and it’ll never go away.”

“Ooooh I see!” Jon said. “You have photographic memory!”

“Eidetic memory,” Whooves corrected. “But yes I do... I’ll never forget anything for as long as I live... an example.”

Without hesitation Whooves closed his eyes and looked to his left.

“The audience member on the left most section bleachers, bottom row, third from the left is wearing a green baseball cap, a blue and light grey flannel polo shirt and acid washed jeans,” Whooves announced. “Approximately 19 guests watching from the audience have blue eyes with the majority color being hazel brown at 72 percent. According to the time card holder viewable just outside the main office section of this building you have 23 interns on staff tonight; seven of them are from ‘NYU,’ three of them are from ‘Columbia University,’ ten of them are from ‘Cornell University,’ and another three are from ‘The City University of New York.’”

Opening his eyes Whooves slowly looked back at Jon while the audience gave him a light round of applause.

“See?” Whooves demonstrated. “I can never forget... anything.”

“Wow... that sounds.... horrible,” Jon commented, causing the audience to laugh at his lack of tactfulness.

“Yes, there have been cases where individuals consider this to be a curse rather than a blessing. In some cases it leads to depression as they cannot control it,” Whooves explained. “Imagine somepony coming up to you and saying the phrase ‘dog’ and immediately your mind is flooded with every memory of an interaction with every dog you’ve ever had. Or imagine you had a traumatic experience as a child like losing a loved one in the family and not only can you never forget it but are able to recreate the experience perfectly in your head as if it was actually happening.”

There was a moment of slightly awkward silence, not even a hint of idle whispers from the crowd could be heard. The way in which he described the misfortune of never being able to forget anything in such vivid detail lead Jon to believe that perhaps Whooves was more tragic a character then he was leading him to believe. He was beginning to see him in a new light.

“Is... is that how you view it?” Jon asked. “Your recollection skills I mean... do you view it as a curse?”

Slowly Whooves raised his head which had been perched atop his hoof in support as he leaned on the desk. His eyes locked with Jon as if a spiritual connection had been made through a level of understanding rarely seen between two people. No such sentiments were shared here.

“What? Hell no!” Whooves answered. “Having perfect memory is awesome! If I wanted to I could recite every word spoken during the entire interview, I’m that good!”

Before Jon could even lift his hand to slam his palm against his face the crowd was already in a full swing of applause, cheering the timed humour of the ever entertaining Whooves. Jon could not recall the last guest he had that surprised him continuously like Whooves did but nevertheless he was determined to move forward.

“Okay so... how long have you known about this... well you know,” Jon struggled to say past the hand still firmly planted upon his face.

“If you’re asking how long I’ve had this ability then you might be surprised to know that it wasn’t all my life,” Whooves said.

“Wait... you mean you weren’t born with this?” Jon asked.

“Oddly no, I don’t believe so, it was something I... liked to say was given to me,” Whooves answered with Jon looking rather confused. “You see, when I was at the young age of two I taught myself how to read and write before my parents even could consider what school to enroll me in. The first book I ever read, I remember very clearly, was one of the first journals that Zenith ever published.”

“I assume Zenith’s first book wasn’t a pop-up but some pretty advanced reading,” Jon commented. “How did you get your hands on one of those things?”

“Easy, my parents, both Earthponies, were strong supporters of Zenith’s cause. I was born in Manehatten but my father would often take trips up to Canterlot to help him out from time to time. As such my dad had a lot of Zenith’s books lying around the house,” Whooves answered. “One day I found one and attempted to read it for myself... I couldn’t put it down. The things he talked about, life, science, world politics, all of it I found insurmountably fascinating. It was incredible for me, the more I read the more I began to understand what he was trying to say and I found that his message was so... enlightening that no matter what I could not forget a word of it.”

Sitting up more properly now, Jon could not help but find this anecdote to be just that interesting.

“Is that when you discovered you had this gift?” Jon asked. “This gift of absolute recollection?”

“See that’s the thing... in theory I should also remember the events prior to that but I don’t. My earliest memory was reading that book by the great Zenith and, like I said, his ideas were so interesting to me that they just imprinted themselves on my mind. And ever since then it was as if something inside of me was unlocked, it was like my consciousness was expanded and my mind had developed to the point where it yearned to learn new things and never wanted to forget. Reading that book gave me an ability far more precious than merely good memory... it gave me the gift of transcending my own limitations,” Whooves explained in a way one would describe a loved one. “And from there on my young life was changed forever. My reasoning skills were at the point where I could almost inherently solve any intellectual dilemma from as simple as putting the square peg through the square hole... or as large as say... discovering the secret to manipulating time and space.”

“Your parents... must have been so proud of you,” Jon commented.

“Oh indeed they were... you know I still remember the day they found out about my enviable talent. It was on a sunny afternoon and my dad had misplaced his hoof signed first editions of one of Zenith’s earliest tomes regarding philosophy. It was very valuable and he was quite beside himself for losing it,” Whooves recounted. “I wanted to make him happy again so since that particular book was one of the ones I had already read only once I went straight into my room, got a quill and some paper and by memory rewrote the entire text verbatim. Every word, every punctuation, even some parts where he misspells a word, all of it I could recall easily. Later that day I produced my gift to him which at first he thought was adorable, but once he realized exactly what I had done he was in shock.”

“Yeah well... my son once gave me a macaroni picture!” Jon countered. “So uh, this-- and is that how you became a professor at a college?”

“Not at first no. I was three when my parents found out about my so-called advanced intelligence, so they took me to get evaluated by a professional to see what my IQ was and to have a case study done about me,” Whooves explained. “At five years old my parents had me earn my first masters degree and then at seven I was given a lifetime achievement award which later led to me being awarded a Mane peace prize... the equivalent of the Nobel peace prize in your world.”

“Forgive me for saying so but... you didn’t-- it doesn’t sound like you had much of a childhood,” Jon commented.

“It’s funny you should say that because Zenith thought the same thing. You see my parents were Earthponies who were devoted followers of what Zenith said so to them having an Earthpony son who was considered to be a genius was a huge thing for them. They meant well but my father especially had me travel all over Equestria displaying my talent,” Whooves continued with a self-aware smile. “A lot of ponies thought I was a myth, just a story made up by Earthponies to desperately try and prove how intelligent they are... which is why at around ten years of age it was decided on my behalf by my dad and some of the more dedicated civil rights activists at the time for me to become a professor.”

“Again with all do respect... I mean my own mother is a teacher so I have nothing but admiration for what they do, but why did they have you teach at a college?” Jon asked. “It almost seems like, and again no disrespect, but it almost seems like a step down from what you were doing previously.”

“Well you see the reason they did this was because it was just a publicity stunt... plain and simple. They wanted to show that Earthponies were just as smart as anypony else and their crafty plan this time around was to show that it was possible for an Earthpony to teach Unicorns. You see, I became a professor at Hoofington College in Canterlot which was the leading universtiy of all of Equestria and for most of its history open only to and consisting only of Unicorns,” Whooves explained. “So while it was a great opportunity for me some of the ponies who set up the idea just loved the thought of an Earthpony as young as me teaching Unicorns twice my age about how the world works.”

“And you were okay with this!?” Jon blurted. “Good lord you were still just a kid and they... they were using you like a, like a, like a pawn! Doesn’t that bother you!?”

“Honestly... not even a little bit.” Whooves smiled. “And it’s because of them making me do all these things that I ended up meeting... my hero.”

“You... y-you mean Zenith?” Jon asked.

“Exactly. For you see... I wasn’t the only new professor who was hired to teach at Hoofington that year,” Whooves said. “That was also the year Zenith began his life as an instructor.”

“Zenith was a teacher?” Jon asked. “For some reason... I don’t see him standing in front of a classroom.”

“Neither did he, in fact he hated the idea. By the time I was born Zenith was already well established in Canterlot for many, many years. His following was vast, the Terra Equinity society was at its prime in terms of influential power and he was still considered to be the most famous pony alive. So famous that after he dies a huge museum is built in Canterlot just about him,” Whooves said. “So of course his own followers and colleagues urged him to teach at Hoofington University who were beyond willing to accept him at a most generous salary wage. You see, Hoofington didn’t care about who they hired or what race they were so long as they were the best and most prominent of ponies. And of course Zenith’s followers wanted him to teach his view points at the academic level and show the world that an Earthpony was smart enough to teach the next generation of ponies. It was a win-win.”

“I imagine that there were those other than Zenith who didn’t like this idea,” Jon commented.

“Oh believe me there were! A lot of older Canterlot Unicorn residents with strong roots to the city hated the idea of an old Earthpony who never even attended school outside of the Castle teaching their children... almost as much as the idea of a nine-year-old Earthpony teaching their children,” Whooves chuckled. “But eventually Zenith broke down and decided to do it. At the time it was considered to be the biggest news in Equestrian history. All over the headlines were the same; the grandfather of the Earthpony revolution who single hoofedly started the age of enlightenment and the youngest Earthpony professor of all time would be working together at the best college in all of Equestria.”

“Did you two fight it out for the coveted title of top nerd?” Jon joking asked. “Did you end up standing over his lifeless corpse in a sort of ‘there can be only one’ kind of deal?”

“No, no, no nothing like that,” Whooves assured Jon after a quick chuckle at the idea. “There were some concerns that we might not get along but we actually became quick friends. He liked the idea of a pony as old as he having the chance to work on an intellectual level with a pony as young as me. The juxtaposition was an entertaining thought for him but as for me I just really wanted to work with my idol… I wanted so eagerly to pick his mind because I thought that if I got to meet him in person I’d learn even more than I ever could from just his books.”

“And?” Jon said. “What happened? Did you learn anything?

“Oh I certainly did. He taught me the most important and eye-opening thing of my entire life,” Whooves said. “That being that I... had no idea what I wanted in life.”

“Ex-- what?” Jon said.

“It’s simple really, I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself. Zenith explained to me that in my life up until then all my decisions were made on my behalf by my parents and those telling them what to do. All for the greater good of course but I was not in control,” Whooves explained. “Oooh, I remember it so very clearly. Right there he deconstructed my whole existence right in front of me and it was amazing. He showed me how my pursuit of knowledge would be pointless if I didn’t apply it to anything and how if I kept letting others dictate how I lived that I was to have a pointless existence. I of course wanted to match wits with him so I countered his argument saying that my coming here was of my own desires, I told him that I consciously agreed to come to this college and seek him out... but then he countered by saying I only did that for the pursuit of even more knowledge which, again, was for its own sake. I wasn’t applying it to anything for myself... I was without purpose.”

“Damn, Zenith sounds like a real hardass,” Jon winced. “I mean... again, you were just a kid.”

“Yes but he was right... for all of my intelligence and understanding I had no idea what to do with it. And it was during that meeting that Zenith asked me something... something that to that day no one had ever asked me before and it was the only time in my life that I was presented with a question that I did not know the answer to,” Whooves said. “The genius that he was, he leaned in and said to me ‘Young Whooves... what do you want?’”

The question was simple and yet so powerful. Some of the members of the audience looked at each other with trepidation as some of them were still searching to find the answer to that question.

“And what did you say?” Jon asked.

“Nothing... because I didn’t know the answer,” Whooves answered. “He then advised me to return to him as soon as I did.”

“And did you?” Jon wanted to know.

“Not at first... after that chance meeting we went our separate ways for a bit, not because of any inclination to not see each other or anything like that but because it was quite the busy semester. He had classes to teach and so did I,” Whooves answered. “But I swear... it was as if by asking that question Zenith had taken away everything he had ever given me. I soon found myself unable to concentrate or focus on so many things as I was too obsessed with his question like it was suppressing my will to function properly.”

“Again; guy sounds like a hardass,” Jon repeated.

“He was but that was the best part about him; his tough love really helped me,” Whooves said. “Because eventually I did find that answer... I remember that day very clearly, I was in the middle of class and It came to me! I immediately ran out in the middle of lecture and burst my way into his office while he was grading papers and yelled ‘I found my answer! I know what I want!’”

“Well what was it!?” Jon demanded to know. “What did you say!?”

“It was so simple, so obvious, I looked at him in his elderly eyes and said...” Whooves paused for dramatic effect as the sound of creaking could be heard from those leaning in to hear better. “‘I wanna build a time machine!’”

As if this moment was stuck in time no one moved or said anything for a quick couple of seconds.

“Really?” Jon said.

“Funny, that’s what Zenith said too; ‘really?’” Whooves imitated. “Followed by ‘why?’”

“Funny ‘cause I was just about to say that too,” Jon confirmed. “What was this like... some kind of boyish fantasy of yours or something?”

“Sort of but a little more... personal... It’s like this, remember how I said I met Derpy during my college years?” Whooves asked.

“Yeah... OH yeah!” Jon realized. “That’s right, I do remember you saying... so... wait, how did that work exactly?... Was... was she a... student?”

“Yes... but not at Hoofington. Like I said before, her mom owned a cafe close to the university but she sent her child Derpy to a community college on the other side of town. On occasion Derpy helped her mom sell coffee and pastries at a kiosk in the middle of the Hoofington Quad,” Whooves reminded. “And her mom and I had a deal, I got free tea and cookies and in exchange I tutored her daughter and helped her try to transfer over to Hoofington.”

The story was starting to become unbearably adorable but as Whooves continued onward Jon was forced to ask a question now that he had all the facts and figures before him.

“Whooves... exactly how old are you now?” Jon asked.

“20-years-old,” Whooves answered.

“And... how old was Derpy when you first met her?” Jon asked.

“She was 18 and I was nine... she was literally twice my age at the time,” Whooves answered.

“I see... and you two... are married now,” Jon reminded himself. “I had no idea Derpy was such a cradle robber.”

“A bit taboo I know but when I first met her we were just friends... we didn’t actually start dating till I was about...sixteen,” Whooves admitted. “But that’s besides the point... what I want to share with you is that while I was tutoring her I was the only friend she ever had.”

Ignoring the age gap for now Jon was shocked to hear this new revelation. He had met Derpy before and found this statement most unfitting.

“Wait... she was eighteen and she hadn’t had a single friend?” Jon asked. “H-how... how can that be?”

“Short answer; her eyes,” Whooves said. “When she was little she always had an extreme case of amblyopia and as a result she found it hard to make friends because she was self-conscious.”

“T-that’s... that’s terrible,” Jon commented.

“Yes but I didn’t care about her physical appearance, I just wanted to help her out. At the time I found both she and her mom to be very nice ponies. I also admitted that she was my only friend too,” Whooves revealed. “Since my intelligence was discovered at a very young age I was sent from town to town to demonstrate my talent, or as Zenith described it ‘being a trained monkey.’ So I had no time to make friends, only colleagues and acquaintances. For the first time I connected with somepony on an emotional level rather than an intellectual one. Derpy found this rather sweet of me and I remember she said something to me with almost as much of an impact on my life as Zenith asking me what I wanted to do with my life.”

“W-what did she say?” Jon asked.

“During one of our tutoring sessions when we were talking about our personal lives rather than actually studying she said to me and I quote,” Whooves gave his signature dramatic pause, “‘Oh Whooves, you’re so sweet. If only you were around when I was your age... we could have been great friends.’”

“Wait a minute... that’s why you wanted to build a time machine?” Jon asked as he looked past him at his ever present Tardis.

“Again... that’s exactly what Zenith asked me!” Whooves said cheerfully. “I told him that if I can build a time machine then I could go back in time and be friends with Derpy when she was younger and then she would have that childhood friend she always wanted and then she wouldn't be so sad.”

In response to this almost fairy tale set up, the crowd gave a loud and audible ‘awwww’ to indicate just how cute they thought this show of affection was. In a response of his own, Whooves turned to his side to point at them with his amused look about him.

“Now that’s NOT how my mentor reacted at all!” Whooves commented which caused their awwws to turn into full on laughter. “That’s better... when I told him that that’s what I wanted to do with my life he laughed and thought it was equal parts adorable and unrealistic. He was this close to urging me to use my time and intellect for something more reasonable and beneficial to the pony race but before he could something happened that convinced him otherwise.”

“Oh, oh let me guess!” Jon urged. “Heeee... realized that his deterring you from doing what you wanted made him no better than those who tried to use you to advance their own agenda!”

“Close! That certainly was the case down the line but not what caused him to see things from my point of view from the outset,” Whooves answered. “No, from the very start of it all he was convinced by one single important event of my young life... because it was there in his office at that moment in time that I discovered my calling in life... right there and then thanks to Derpy I realized that I wanted to harness the power of time travel... and it was also at that moment that I finally received my cutie mark.”

Saving both Jon and the audience the hassle, Whooves arched himself to stick his hips in the air, giving the camera man a good shot of his flank.

“The moment I revealed what I wanted this little doozy appeared on my person and convinced my mentor of how serious I was,” Whooves added. “Zenith was still convinced that my reasons were rather childish and unrequited but nevertheless he was now certain that I had found my purpose in life and that purpose was to be the first pony to ever build a time machine... and from then on he vowed to help me realize that dream as my mentor and friend... in time he even saw me as his own son.”

The interview was nowhere close to being over but even still the audience felt the need to stand and give a roaring applause over Whooves’ willingness to share with the world the most pivotal moment in his life. Even Jon felt the need to quietly clap his hands while the crowd cheered for the interview to continue, even though they themselves were the reason it momentarily took a break.

“Like you were his own, son huh?” Jon reviewed.

“Very much so,” Whooves responded. “He spent the rest of his life trying to nurture and build me up properly.”

“Didn’t he have his own family to take care of?” Jon asked.

“HA!” Whooves blurted. “Zenith getting married!? That’s a good one!”

With the crowd following his example by chuckling themselves, Jon decided to move on from the last point.

“Okay so this guy uh... t-this guy takes you in and-- I mean how does he ‘nurture you?’” Jon asked. “Like what, did the guy tutor you on his day off or are talking about going all ‘Ra's al Ghul’ on your ass and-- because you did mention a secret society.”

Ignoring the pop culture reference he did not understand, Whooves decided to answer the question as best he could.

“One of the ways Zenith helped me was by giving me full access to his laboratory that he had established underneath his house. And of course you know how the rest goes. I stayed at the college for years working as a professor while occasionally trying to build my time travel machine, but as I grew older I realized that going back to be Derpy’s friend was not a possibility, yet I continued to work on it out of sheer scientific curiosity. Even though Derpy originally inspired me I soon became interested in the idea for its own sake,” Whooves continued to explain, smiling every time Derpy’s name came up. “Ironically, I gave up on trying to make my time machine when I turned sixteen and Derpy finally showed a romantic interest in me as I did for her. Fast forward a few more years and Bolt Shock issued his challenge to the world, but by then I had lost all interest in time travel since I was finally with my one true love, Derpy; I finally knew what I wanted and I had it.”

“But then...?” Jon hinted even though he knew the rest.

“But then my good friend Zenith convinced me to build it on the idea that if I won the contest I could use the prize money to live happily with Derpy and support her. Once again my desire to build a time machine was fueled by my love for Derpy only this time I actually built it... my love for her made that happen,” Whooves sighed as he swayed his head as if the memories were rocking him to sleep. “But then it was revealed that Bolt Shock cared not for the integral responsibility that came with such a power so even though it was long since completed I never gave it to him. And even though nopony knew I had one I didn’t want it to fall into the wrong hooves... so I took Derpy away from that corrupted world and came back here where I now live in peace with my new family.”

Again Jon was seeing some discrepancies but he decided to not bring it up now since he might need to later and by all accounts his plan was still going well.

“Are you finally seeing why?” Whooves asked. “Why Twilight hates me so.”

“Actually... I do,” Jon said, his quick thinking already rewarding him with an idea of what he was getting at. “In the future you become one of Twilight’s worst idealistic challengers... and it’s all thanks to her own son, Zenith.”

“Now you’re getting it! Zenith ran away from her and refused to acknowledge that they were even related and ended up becoming a force against her and her precious royal family... and then there was me,” Whooves pointed to himself with a large smile bordering on laughter. “I am a walking attestment of what Zenith became and what made him leave Twilight, to her I am a symbol of hate. I am known as Twilight’s most hated figure and it was Zenith who made me who I am; her own son... responsible.”

“So basically everything Twilight doesn’t like about you... is because of Zenith,” Jon surmised.

“Exactly! His teachings are what inspired and unlocked my true potential, his working at Hoofington is what made me seek him out, it was his influence that made me discover my special talent, and it was his advice that got me to build the time machine,” Whooves listed. “And... it was Zenith who helped me escape.”

“Wait Zenith had to help you escape?” Jon asked. “I uh... I had-- I just sort of assumed that you fired up your tardis and... just like that kablam!... Into the past.”

“Ooooooooh how I wished it was that simple! In truth I almost didn’t make it! You see the day I decided to transport Derpy and myself to the past the entire kingdom at that point knew about it... some think that the last time Zenith and Twilight talked was when he ran away but that’s actually not true... they did meet for the first and last time since his departure and it was on the night of my escape. Allow me to paint you a picture,” Whooves offered as he lifted his forelegs in the air like a conductor about to gesture through a symphony. “Imagine Canterlot, at night... all the lights are on and the sound of sirens echoed throughout the night, awakening the good people from their cozy beds. And there... in the basement of Zenith’s house, his laboratory laid in ruins, wires hanging from the ceiling, walls partially collapsed, and various machines struggling to still work. On one end of the room the handsome and brilliant Earthpony known as Whooves desperately tries to fix his time machine which had been damaged by the pony on the other end of the room... Princess Twilight Sparkle who caught wind of what I was about to do and was trying to stop me.”

“But she didn’t stop you,” Jon commented. “So what happened?”

“There was another pony there that night... Zenith... who was in between the two of us. We had to use every gadget we had ever made together just to cause a scratch on that powerful Alicorn but in the end our combined efforts managed to subdue her for just long enough for me to escape,” Whooves recollected. “Oh you should have seen my mentor in action, for a pony his age he sure could move. At first he tried to reason with his mother but she wouldn't listen, then he tried to favorably subdue her but her still youthful energy made it so it was like watching an ant trying to take down a grizzly.”

“S-so how... I mean did he eventually get Twilight to stop trying to stop you?” Jon asked.

“Zenith is a very resilient and determined pony with intellect that is equaled by nopony else. So yes, eventually he did find a way to conquer his all-powerful mother... a good 10,000 volts of electricity shot straight through one’s spine will do that to a pony.” Whooves chuckled as Jon winced in pain as if he was the one being electrocuted. “But even after all that... that persistent Alicorn still found the strength to get up on her legs and channel enough magic for one last energy blast that would have destroyed my precious device, leaving me at her whim... I’d imagine she would have gotten a shot off if her own son hadn’t stood in front of her and said ‘shoot him and you shoot me, bitch.’”

“Zen-- okay wow, Zenith was willing to sacrifice himself in order for you to escape!?” Jon asked.

“What can I say? He loved me as if I was his own son, he figured his mom wouldn't call his bluff… and of course wouldn't ya know it, as always he was right!” Whooves mentioned. “Rather than trying one last ditch effort to stop me Twilight lowered her guard for just long enough for me and Derpy to throw the switch and, as you said, kablam... into the past!”

“So if what I’m hearing is true... in order to stop you from escaping Twilight had to fight her own son... and she lost?” Jon asked without waiting for an answer. “I can certainly see why she doesn’t like you.”

“And to think that’s not even the worst part of my story! The real heartache happened that very next morning,” Whooves warned.

“Jesus I... You mean when the entire city celebrated your escape?” Jon guessed.

“Forcing Twilight to realize that even her own people were against her to some capacity? No... that was just the icing on the cake! You see not everypony was happy about what happened. Some were actually quite livid! You see, it was soon discovered by many that the only reason I escaped was due to the interference of Zenith and this made a lot of ponies angry,” Whooves explained. “Half the ponies in Equestria wanted to bring Zenith up on charges like aiding and abetting, assault on a royal member of the Castle, and high treason... while the other half wanted Zenith to be awarded a medal for what he did, christened leader of Canterlot, and allowed to live forever as their new god.”

“Whi-- who was in charge of... who was responsible for ultimately deciding his fate?” Jon asked.

“Who do you think?” Whooves countered.

“Twilight?” Jon said as he smacked his forehead.

“Twilight,” Whooves confirmed. “Even though Zenith and I were the instigators and she the victim she still appointed herself, against Celestia's advice, as the one who got to decide how to punish her own son.”

“S-soooo… what did she end up doing?” Jon asked. “Did she side with her supporters and banish him or did she let him go as her son?”

“In the end… she had no choice, her hooves were tied,” Whooves said. “On that day Zenith was banished from the kingdom.”

Even though said event wasn’t scheduled to happen for another thousand years the audience sympathized enough to jeer at the stage, booing as if future Twilight was on stage rather than Jon or Whooves.

“Wow that’s... a dysfunctional family is one thing but... but to actually get exiled by your own mother is... is I can’t imagine... this guy really is Galileo,” Jon said firmly as the idea made him feel more sad. “So... where did... w-where did Twilight banish her son to? I mean surely she had mercy on him... or was he like... sent to the moon, a far off planet...or... oh God... another d-d-dimension?”

“Actually... it was about five miles off the Ponyville city limits,” Whooves answered in a blunt tone that made the crowd laugh. “He now lives in a pre-paid coddage in the middle of the meadow... actually a really nice place, has a garden and everything!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jon begged as the crowd tried their best not to laugh as Jon was trying to speak. “So... assaulting a princess, breaking multiple laws and regulations, and helping a pony go back in time where he could potentially destroy the timeline lands him a house on the countryside?”

“Ain’t monarchy a funny thing? Trust me, a lot of ponies did not like this idea but even though he betrayed her she still loved her son... so in the end she compromised with herself and gave him a slap on the hoof. He was never to set hoof into Canterlot and it was demanded of him to stay at the small acre of land known as his new home,” Whooves said. “All in all the decision made nopony happy, least of all Twilight herself. Those who were for Zenith were angry that he was punished while those who were against him hated that he wasn’t punished enough... but Twilight was hurt most of all; she hated the fact that her relationship with her son had gotten so bad to the point where she, as co-ruler, was forced to cast him away… to this day they haven’t spoken since his exile.”

“That’s... that’s so sad,” Jon commented, not as a host but as a parent himself. “I had... to think that in the future... Twilight would be so... so miserable.”

“You have no idea. In the future Twilight often wrote about how she felt like she lost control of her own kingdom. Everything she did she felt paranoid that it made no pony happy." He explained. "She destroyed Time travel; ponies got mad, she tried to reinvent it; ponies get mad, she tried to stop me; ponies get mad, she banished her son; ponies get mad, she let's him off easy; ponies get mad."

"I... poor Twilight." Jon sighed with a sorrowful look on his face.

"And guess who she blames for all of this,” Whooves smiled. Jon wasn’t willing to answer but that suited Whooves just fine as he lifted his hoof up to his face. “Me. That’s why she’s so hellbent on re-inventing time travel and bringing me back home and getting revenge... Of course she never does and I remain to this day Equestria's greatest outlaw.”

Twilight had been and still was a good friend of Jon which is why he felt uncomfortable hearing all of this.

“Because of me her own people disliked her, her life's work was trampled upon, and she was forced to banish her own son who was responsible for all of this happening because he was the one who created and molded me!” Whooves laughed. "Funny part is I have nothing against Twilight as a pony... but speaking as somepony who has studied in the field of parenting and child development I can diagnose that all the anger she against me is her way of expressing how she feels about Zenith leaving her... her horn might not be an optical lens but she sure knows how to project!”

By this time Jon had been interviewing Whooves for longer than he thought he would and had gotten information he thought would've taken twice as long to obtain. He was physically and emotionally drained which is why he didn’t question why Whooves was so forthcoming or why it took up untill now for his phone to go off.

Jon was about to comment on Twilight’s behalf when a low buzzing noise could be heard from his breast pocket; it was his phone. The way it vibrated told Jon that it was a text message which could only have come from one person... the only person who Jon had given permission to contact him in the middle of an interview. Had Jon been thinking more clearly he would have realized how unorthodox everything had become but at this point he wasn’t himself anymore.

“Whooves... I’m sorry to say that this... is the end,” Jon said.

“Oh is the interview over already?” Whooves asked. “Oh too bad, I could have gone on about myself for hours and hours and hours.”

“No... I’m saying this is the end for you,” Jon repeated. “Because from here on out... unless you do as I say you’re not walking out of here in one piece.”

“Ooooooooo,” Whooves cooed as his smile grew and grew. “Now the fun begins!”