Episode 18: Dr. Whooves on the Daily Show

Only a select few had ever been inside of Dr. Whooves’ time traveling Tardis, even less if one disregards Derpy who never remembered that her husband was a time traveler. That being said, the interior of his time machine was not what one would expect.

For starters, it appeared purposely themed to look as steampunk as possible. The walls were of a thick steel which bathed in a constant yellow light, giving them a muddied brown color. A more natural neon light shined from beneath a glass floor, casting shadows of low hanging tubes and wires all around the vicinity.

Although outwardly only the size of a telephone booth, the interior was nearly endless. Once inside it seemed as if it was as spacious as a living room, and from there the size only increased as adjacent corridors extended outward seemingly without end; like a large box inside a much smaller box. In the center of this circular base of operations was a terminal which was constructed both around and into a tube-like large pipeline that ran vertically through the entire device; its sole purpose being to pump energy to the rest of the machine.

Even though Whooves used this machine often he rarely spent much time in its quarters. The way his it worked was such that when he punched in a date and location (and on rare occasions an alternate dimension) the machine would instantly take him there. If he used his sonic probe to activate the machine from a distance he would instantly arrive at the location and time he had queued up in advance.

So on any given occasion he only spent a small amount of time on the inside before rushing off to his new location. If there was no location, or if he just used his probe to transport him back inside with no queue, then it would just stay hovering in void until command was entered. Sitting in an endlessly sprawling machine in the middle of nothingness was not Whooves’ idea of fun so when he used his prized machine he knew where he was going... this was one exception.

After his interview with Stewart, Whooves had resigned to sitting on the floor of his Tardis to gather his thoughts. His plan to get back home to his wife and to erase his encounter with Jon was momentarily put on hold in favor of him trying to make sense of everything. As methodical and calculating as he liked to believe he was even he had a hard time separating his emotions from his thinking at this moment. He could not ignore the things he had said and the feelings he was now experiencing.

“Oh Jonathan... what have you done to me?” Whooves asked as he laid face up on the floor of his Tardis. Usually by now he’d be in his next location but he found it hard to think clearly. On average he’d spend maybe a minute in here. He was now clocking in at almost an hour.

The first thing he did was punch in the date, time, and location of where Derpy had told him that the illustrious Jon Stewart wanted to speak with him. He was ready to jump back and rewrite events so instead of agreeing to, he would formally decline, meaning that his identity as a time traveler would be safe. This was the plan but he couldn't bring himself to do so.

“What’s wrong with me?” Whooves wondered. “It was never this bad.”

Today marked the first time in his entire life that he opened up about the events that led up to him coming into the past, or at the very least opened up truthfully about them. No one in this time, not even Derpy with her selective memory, had any knowledge of who they really were or why they were here. And for the most part Whooves liked it that way.

All he had to do was flip a switch and he’d be in a position to maintain the status quo he thought so important. But even if he went back and erased the memory of billions of individuals it would not change the fact that he had been forced to talk about and indeed relive that day. Like with everything else, his mind refused to let go.

Whooves’ vision began to go fuzzy. It was a familiar feeling easily corrected by wiping his foreleg across his eyes to dry away his sadness. He never thought he’d have to talk about Ditzy. He thought his life here with Derpy was absolute and perfect. But to have a human come along, figure out who he was, and force him to open up about that which he’d rather forget was something he could never have predicted.

The worst part was... it actually got him thinking.

Getting up, Whooves leaned against the center terminal where an overly complicated array of buttons and switches looked at him. But he looked past them all and instead met eye to eye with a picture frame he always had on hand. It was a picture of his wife, but not just any picture, it was the very same one he tried to use to get her to recall who she really was, the same picture that Derpy herself did not recognize. And, aside from Derpy, the only thing Whooves took with him when he fled from the future.

“What do you think, honey?” Whooves asked the picture. “What would you have done?”

The sound of gears turning and machines humming filled the void as Whooves waited a calculated number of seconds before speaking again.

“Oh that’s your solution for everything,” he continued. “All I’m saying is that maybe... yes, yes it is, it totally is! Oh really!? Well I don’t think so, not one bit.”

From the outside looking in, one might conceivably assume that in his grief Whooves had lost his mind and was now talking to himself, but in actuality he was talking to his Derpy by filling in the gaps of what she might say in his head. Still not what one could consider sane, but since no one knew more about her than Whooves, and since he had the benefit of remembering everything she’d ever said to him, he could accurately predict what she would say within a small margin of error.

“Oh really, just like that? If you were in my horseshoes you’d just go ahead and go for it... Okay yes, I did the same thing but that was different,” Whooves continued. “Nooo no it wasn’t... Look I just don’t think that... okay you’re right, it wasn’t my turn to speak, I’m sorry... continue.”

Nodding his head, Whooves listened to what Derpy would have said and had to admit that even now it was hard to say no to her.

“I suppose but... what happens if I’m wrong or what if... why thank you I appreciate that but let’s take into consideration that if I do this I might... yes, yes you can,” Whooves said. “Of course, without a second thought... yes, no question about it... because I... because I’m selfish? Okay you’re right... yes, that would be rather nice... oh I don’t know, maybe next week if the weather’s okay and-- b-but that’s besides the point, we’re getting off topic here!”

After a quick shake of his head, Whooves continued the conversation which was one-sided in more ways than one. Even when she wasn’t there Derpy found a way to win over Whooves quite easily.

While Derpy continued to explain herself in his head, Whooves moved himself to the main service station of the center terminal. Like a child losing an argument, Whooves sported a pouty face which he tried to hide from no one who could see him as he changed the coordinates of his next destination.

In terms of location he changed it by a few miles but when it came to the date he increased it by several hundred years.

“You better know what you’re getting me into Derpy.” Whooves playfully sighed. “I swear... one of these days you’ll get me into trouble.”

With a flick of a switch Whooves closed his eyes to ready himself for the transition, turning to face the picture of his wife before doing so.

“I love you too,” he said.

A flash of light, a change of perspective, and a sense of fresh air soon took hold. All of it lost on Whooves who still had his eyes closed but nevertheless knew what this meant.

Slowly he opened his eyes to find he was no longer surrounded by the dank metal of his time traveling enclosure but instead surrounded by a vibrant array of colorful flowers and rolling green hills with a clear view of mountain tops over the horizon. The only witnesses to his sudden resurrection were some wildlife which included a frightened deer who had long since scampered off into one of the many clusters of tall trees to his right.

He could feel his legs being buried deep into the wilderness with the tall grass reaching up to his knees and taller floral specimens tickling the underside of his stomach. Although completely different from his previous surroundings he never felt more at home, and for more than one reason.

From where he stood he could just barely catch the floating mass of clouds that was Cloudsdale at the corner of his eyes. When he strained his neck further to his left he could make out the vibrant metropolis of Canterlot. But it was only when he did a 180 could he see the quaint little town he resided in, Ponyville... circa one thousand plus years older.

“Finally.” Whooves sighed as he looked at his sonic probe to make sure it was activated and no one could track him. “I’m home.”

Backing away slowly, almost defensively, he began to head in the opposite direction of civilization. If he were to set hoof anywhere near any major city he’d be instantly recognized and for now he didn’t want to be noticed by anyone except the person he came to see.

His destination wasn’t too far away, only about fifteen minutes on hoof. The difficult parts were walking up steep hills and constantly having to look around to make sure no one else was in the area. Luckily, as he predicted, at this hour nobody else was present to stop him, leaving him enough time to reach the location he had in mind which he could have easily just teleported himself in front of but wanted an extra few minutes to enjoy the lovely countryside.

Eventually, after venturing through thick perimeter of trees, Whooves reached his desired location; a small cottage whose only distinguishing feature was a large metal enclosure that was built atop its roof like a metal hat. Whooves recognized it as a simplistic observatory complete with a viewing deck and a slightly high powered telescope, fueling the idea that he was indeed where he intended to be.

Though even if that weren’t the case, Whooves knew exactly who resided here, history never lied about that sort of thing.

On the surface, it looked like an ordinary cottage with stone walls, a wooden door, dirty windows, and a thick hay roof. But like a rustic treasure chest which contained a flawless diamond he knew that the content of the house was far more precious than the building itself. Quietly he approached the cottage and tried looking inside through the window, but he saw nothing due to a combination of no lights on the inside and the window being so murky.

When Whooves tried to open the door it refused to cooperate. He knew the trick to getting in, there was a spare key under the rug which he was standing on, but the walk to get here made him lazy enough to try another method. Reaching into his pocket Whooves produced his popular device and aimed it at the door, a quick press of a button later and the automatic locking mechanism gave way and the old door creaked open ever so slightly.

Without so much as a warning of his approaching presence, Whooves walked through the threshold of the building and now found himself in the quaint living room of a pony who demonstrably did not know the finer points of cleaning up after himself.

Boxes were piled up in random locations with some almost as high as the ceiling. There were more book stands against the walls than places to sit with some books looking as if they’d dissolve into dust if they were so much as looked at. It was dark so it was hard to tell but half completed little knick-knacks were strewn about both on the ground and on filthy surfaces like a child leaving its toys around, but instead they were carved wooden figures.

Even though this was the future this little area looked to be time locked from a time before modern technology. There wasn’t a hint of anything remotely advanced or sleek in design. If it wasn’t made of wood it was made of clay and there was a surprising amount of leather, from the binding of a book to the hilt of a sword displayed on a wall with the name “Chambermane” engraved underneath. Had Whooves teleported himself inside here rather than outside he might’ve felt like he warped himself in the middle of an outdated pawnshop.

Dust was everywhere with some noticeable locations being the exception, like a nearby armchair and some hoofprints against some surfaces, but at all other locations it was so thick it would need some kind of solvent to get rid of it. A strong smell of medicine wafted through the air, this combined with the high level of multilayered-dusty surfaces bothered Whooves’ nose, causing him to sneeze which almost made a nearby pile of junk topple over.

Usually he would have tried to remain as silent as possible, but he knew no one could hear him since a nearby record player was busily playing music, pumping ambient orchestrated tones throughout the house. It was an older model device, predating Whooves himself, so it strained with effort to interact with a record that had been placed in it recently.

This, the messy interior, the dark lighting, and lack of life were what Whooves expected, but what caught him by surprise was that if he listened close enough he could hear the sound of talking just past the music. Ahead of him was a hallway that lead to another room, the hallway acted as a funnel which made it easier for Whooves to hear the conversation already in progress.

“Yes, yes I realize this but you must understand, why take the risk?” an old man’s voice said, his tone made gruff by years of abuse and illnesses. “This one is so much better.”

“I agree but it never hurts to try new things, dear,” a soft and tender voice responded. Judging from how soothing this female voice was it sounded like they were decades apart. “You’re just set in your ways.”

“And what if I am?” the gruff voice continued. “You’re just too quick to change... yes just like that.”

Their conversation continued with neither of them admitting defeat in their friendly argument.

“This is new,” Whooves thought. “I didn’t expect there to be company.”

The more he tried to listen the more he found it difficult with the music still going on in the foreground. To fix this, as well as get things going before he changed his mind, Whooves pointed his probing device to the side of him for the final time that day, in the direction of the record player. As before all it took was a quick pressing of a button to interact with the device, in this case turning it off.

The sound of the record player screeching to a halt caused in turn the sound of tea cups clambering from beyond the hallway.

“Bua-huh? W-w-what was that?” the gruff voice said. After a few seconds the nicer of the two voices responded.

“Sounds like the music stopped,” she answered. “No surprise there. That decrepit thing is older than you.”

“Well this won’t do at all!” the old pony said. “No, you just wait here, Ginger... I’ll go fix it.”

What followed was the sound of someone trying to get up from a creaky chair, the sound of floorboards singing, and an old pony grunting in pain, all of which made Whooves regret turning off the nice sounding music.

“Dear, don’t strain yourself!” the woman begged. “We can just enjoy your meal without the music, it’s fine!”

Whooves in particular knew her suggestion was out of the question.

“W-what’s this!? Tea without music!? Have you gone mad woman!?” the older of the two bellowed. “We are not savages! I refuse to--”

“Okay, okay go on ahead,” the woman sighed. “I’ll refill your cup for when you get back.”

“Yes, yes, yes please do,” he responded.

The sounds of grunts and creaking grew louder as whoever had gotten up was making his way down the hallway. Whooves didn’t feel the need to move or hide but rather just stand in the same spot atop a very itchy carpet, ready to greet his incoming friend.

A shadow could be seen walking just ahead of its host, indicating that he was almost within view. It’d been a while since Whooves had seen this pony so his mind filled in the blanks as to what he looked like and to his surprise he wasn’t that far off.

Eventually emerging into the living room was an unhealthy looking older Earthpony with a sunken face, bags under his eyes, and a constant expression of pain; probably from having to walk on three legs with his front left leg constantly recoiled. Despite his advanced age he still had a full head of long greasy hair which looked as if he didn’t attend to it much aside for combing it back rather sloppily. His stringy mane was originally a shade of purple so dark it looked almost black but was now a silky white color same as his tail. His coat was a very light magenta which was always the case even when he was younger, his eyes were a vibrant shade of sapphire blue and his cutie mark depicted a quill drawing a star. And although Whooves could now see this pony the reverse could not be said.

Even with Whooves a few feet away the elderly Earthpony could not see him, mostly because he wasn’t wearing his glasses and because it was dark. But now that he was in the living room he took a second to lean against the wall to catch his breath and rub the side of his leg he kept shriveled up, the scarring all over it indicating that it had been injured at one point.

Out of curiosity Whooves reached forward and waved his leg around to see if perhaps a sudden bout of movement could get his attention but to no avail. The elderly Earthpony in a moth eaten sweater began to shiver in response as he quietly coughed, putting more weight against the wall as otherwise he would collapse.

Seeing this creature so vulnerable and weak made Whooves uneasy. This display of weakness could only happen if the older pony thought he was alone, he was the type to never let those around him take pity on him. So Whooves waited. He waited out of respect to give him some time to recuperate. After a session of strained breathing Whooves thought this would be the best time to get his attention.

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” Whooves commented.

“Wh-wh-wh-what!? W-who’s there!?” the Earthpony said as he frantically groped around for a weapon. With luck he managed to grab a familiar long wooden cane which he refused to rely upon despite being told to. “How did you get in my house!? L-leave me alone!”

Impressively for a pony his age, he managed to swing his walking aid quite violently though given his bad eyesight he was nowhere close to hitting his would-be intruder. In fact the way his shoulders would hurt afterward and how he accidentally smacked the side of his coffee table, smashing a glass figure, he was doing more damage to himself than anything else.

“Calm down old man; you’ll hurt yourself!” Whooves implored. “I gave you that cane to help you walk, not use as a club.”

“What are you... wait... w-what?” the old man said as he now got a better listen to the one who addressed him. “Wait a minute... that voice.”

Disregarding everything else the elder pony dropped the cane and hurried himself to the coffee table next to the armchair he had moment ago damaged. Feeling around he found what he was looking for, his glasses which rested atop the table and a small lantern he kept underneath it for when he read his books at night.

Turning on his hooves, he equipped his spectacles and turned on the gas lantern to get a better look at who had broken into his house, and the result was enough to almost make him drop the same lighting source he so desperately tried to find.

The two Earthponies just stared at one another with Whooves giving a lopsided smile and the older one having to brace himself by holding the side of his armchair as he slowly placed the lantern back on the table for fear that he might drop it. He was the closest to death but he appeared as if he was looking at a ghost. His hooves were shaking and his heart was pounding harder than was permitted for someone his age and even though this was his own house he felt like he was in the wrong for attempting to assault him.

“Y-y-y-you,” the older of the two said. “Is it... is it really you!?”

“Your eyes do not deceive you, my old friend.” Whooves smiled. “It’s been too long, Zenith... far too long.”

This marked the first time since his escape that Whooves returned to where he came from. At a certain point in his life, while living in past Ponyville, Whooves did travel to the future with the intention of going through record books and archives, but when he did this he did so after much more than just a thousand years. To avoid anyone recognizing him, he always kept to himself and avoided points in history where friends or family would easily pick him out of a crowd.

So for him to come back to a point in time most familiar he limited himself to revealing his return to one person; anyone who knew him would tell you that it was no surprise he picked his old mentor, the great philosopher Zenith.

“Whooves my boy!”  Zenith exclaimed, still shaking with excitement. “I... I can’t believe it’s actually you.”

Most knew Zenith as one who did not give way to idle chit chat, he was the kind of person who would give five word answers and rather communicate by letter than in person. Unless it was truly important like giving a speech then he could turn on the theatrics, but that didn’t happen so much anymore.

In addition he loathed physical contact and opted to be alone to avoid such actions. He was the quintessential grumpy old man long before he grew old. His persona of the cold, straight talking no nonsense pony was cemented in the minds of most. Those very same colleagues would be shocked to see him now.

“When did you... I mean why-- I mean... oh come over here you, give this tired old colt a hug!” Zenith demanded even though he was already shuffling his way towards the doctor. Placing all his weight on his left side, Whooves reached out with his right hoof to embrace his former teacher. He could recall a time where he was small enough that Zenith towered over him, but now that both were older Whooves was the one looking down on him. “Oh Whooves... my dear friend, how I’ve missed you so!... It’s been far too long!”

Whooves could also remember a time, again when he was young, where Zenith had the strength to pick him up and place him on his lap. Now however he could barely wrap his foreleg around him before getting tired.

“I’ve missed you too... Professor Sparkles,” Whooves said with the sole intention of annoying him, and it worked. Pressing his hoof against the doctor’s chest, Zenith attempted to push him away, but in his old age found it impossible.

“Whooves if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times!” Zenith scolded. “Do not... call me by my... by my mother’s name.”

“Technically it’s not a thousand,” Whooves corrected. “You have told me to not refer to you by that name 312 times.”

With a long and hefty sigh Zenith just glared at his former pupil with angry, unyielding eyes. Whooves found this to be just like old times... unbearably entertaining.

“Okay, okay fine I’m sorry... Professor,” Whooves said, now going for broke.

“And don’t call me that either,” Zenith demanded, making a face like he smelled something awful. “Lord, I haven’t taught an actual class in... goodness, seems like forever ago.”

“It was a little bit before you helped me escape, remember?” Whooves said. “You stopped teaching because you wanted to mentor me full time.”

“Ah yes, yes that’s right... that’s... my word, has it been that long?” Zenith asked, scratching his head. Taking this into consideration, Zenith looked at his friend then at a nearby wall which held a mirror to get a good comparison in his mind. “H-how’s your wife doing if I might ask? How’s that ol’ flame of yours?”

“Who Derpy? She’s fine,” Whooves answered. “She’s back home and she’s gotten a job as a... why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face?”

“Ah... uh, n-no it’s just... I just still can’t believe you’re actually here!” Zenith exclaimed. “Come here son, let me have a look at you.”

Without asking Zenith reached out and grabbed Whooves’ face, forcibly turning his head to the left then to the right to see every imperfection and feature. Delicately he spread his face downwards to look at his pupils then forced his mouth open to get a look at his teeth like a judge examining a dog at an awards competition.

“Amazing,” Zenith said with wonder. “My goodness, it’s been so long and yet... look at you! You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Why thank you very much!” Whooves said with delight as he leaned in to grab ahold of his mentor's face, pressing his hooves together to scrunch his already sagging skin. “You on the other hand have changed... quite a lot.”

“Well that’s what happens when you don’t say ‘hi’ for... my word, it must be ‘round 40 years?” Zenith calculated. “My God... 40 years.”

“Well... maybe for you,” Whooves snickered. “For me it’s been exactly two years, nine months, three weeks, four days, thirty two minutes, eighteen seconds, nineteen seconds, twen--”

“I get the idea.” Zenith groaned after silencing Whooves by throwing his hoof over his former student’s mouth. In response to this Whooves began to chuckle to himself which always made Zenith follow in turn. Soon both ponies were laughing at each others antics leaving both with a sense of deja vu, it had been some time since they enjoyed each other’s company.

“Oh Zenith... you don’t know how good it is to see you again. You have no idea how much I’m grateful to you for helping me all those years ago. I don’t even think I ever properly thanked you either,” Whooves mentioned as he looked around their shabby environments and recalled how he used to live in either at his upscale home, or at the Terra Equinity’s upper offices. “Also I... I’m sorry if getting you involved caused you any trouble. I realize this isn’t exactly--”

“Whooves don’t you dare apologize for what you did!” Zenith warned. “I sleep well every day knowing that I helped achieve the greatest feat in Earthpony history... I mean goodness child look who I’m talking to! Dr. Whooves! The greatest pony to ever live! The only being smarter than me and the only one to ever do what nopony else has ever accomplished... harness the power of time itself!”

“Oh please Zenith, you flatter me!” Whooves said. “I’m not that special.”

“Nonsense! You were the greatest thing to ever happen to our world! Because of you the Earthpony movement has never been stronger,” Zenith commented. “I remember when you were so young and I knew right then... that it was my goal in life to mold you into a fine and proper young man... even at such a young age you were the only one who could keep up with my equations...  you were different... intellectually you were far superior than any pony could even comprehend... and you were also the only pony who could make me laugh! W-which reminds me! What was that one joke you told me during our third year at Hoofington!?”

He knew exactly what joke he was referring to.

“Oh... do I have to?” Whooves said. “I mean that was so long ago I don’t even think I know what you’re referring to.”

“Are you saying you forgot... you?” Zenith teased.

“Okay fine,” Whooves sighed. ”And for your information it was during our second year, not our third.”

Clearing his throat Whooves recounted every joke he had even told, next he narrowed it down to the ones he told that year, then from there only the ones he told to Zenith. Immediately he reaffirmed which one it was.

“Okay, what do you call a Unicorn that’s been castrated?” Whooves began. “You call them...”

“A eunuch corn!” both ponies said at the same time.

Again the two of them were in the throes of laughter, only this time after a few seconds Zenith began to violently cough. The lack of air was so constricting that he fell to one leg, prompting Whooves to quickly run up to assist him.

“Zenith! Are you alright!?” Whooves inquired.

“I’m... I-I’m fine!” Zenith assured him. “I’m just... I’m just not as young as I used to be.”

“Yeah no kidding. Look, if you’re not up for this I can come back tomorrow,” Whooves offered.

“Nonsense! My door is... a-always open to you, son,” Zenith said.

“Yes well... don’t you also have company?” Whooves asked.

“Excuse me?” Zenith responded. As if on cue the same soothing voice from before cut through the air, getting both stallion’s attention.

“Zenny dear!” she called out. “Are you alright? Do you need help getting back?”

“I’m fine woman be silent!” Zenith yelled back. “I’m just... actually Whooves why don’t you come and join us?”

“Oh I wouldn't want to impose,” Whooves said.

“Do not worry,” Zenith assured him. “You’ll love this, actually!”

Taking his hoof, Zenith yanked Whooves to follow him, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Obediently Whooves followed his mentor down the hallways, making note of how much slower he walked even with his cane helping him along the way.

As they ventured down the relatively small hallway they did so at such a pace that Whooves got a chance to view the many pictures that his mentor had hanged up on its walls. They were pictures of Zenith in chronological order, getting older as the stretch of hallways got longer. At the beginning there were pictures of a young looking Zenith working on a farm and towards the middle they were of him when he returned to Canterlot to speak on behalf of Earthponies.

As the two reached the end where the hallways showed guests to a small library, Whooves noticed that the pictures were now of both himself and Zenith either working at the college or when they partnered up at his lab. And finally some photos of Zenith in his current older age. It was a sort of image based timeline chronicling the best years of his life; which is why there were none of him at the Castle or with his family.

The two of them were about to enter the new room when at the last second Zenith pushed Whooves back a bit and motioned for him to be quite.

“Come on out when I give the signal,” he said giddily like a child about to present something special to his parents. Giving himself a second to calm down, Zenith then walked into the small library with Whooves hiding just around the corner listening in.

“Oh there you are Zenny dear. Where have you been? ” the voice asked. “Are you alright? I thought I heard a crashing sound and was worried you had fallen down again.”

“No, no I’m fine I just got distracted... but thanks ever so much for looking out for my best interest,” Zenith said. “That’s what makes you a great gal to have around.”

“I... o-okay then... well I have another spot of tea ready for you,” she said, sounding confused. “Oh and I hope you don’t mind but I placed another log into the fire... it was getting a bit nippy.”

“Oh why thank you very much, Ms. Snap,” Zenith said in a chipper tone. “I very much appreciate that.” There was a slight pause believed by Whooves to be a good chance to come out but was immediately seized by Zenith’s guest.

“My, aren’t we in a good mood all of a sudden,” she noticed. “Are you feeling okay; are you sick or something?”

“My dear Ms. Snap, can’t a pony express joy in close friends without being questioned? Why, I haven’t felt this good in years!” Zenith said. “Because as of right now... we have a new guest!”

What followed was a silence so deafening that even the slightest noise would have sounded like a gun going off. For this reason Whooves had to use all his strength to not laugh as he purposely refused to expose himself.

“Excuse me?” the mare said.

“Um... that is to say now would be a great time for somepony to appear!” Zenith called out.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked again.

“Of course I am... or I least I will be any second now!” Zenith yelled. “Any seco-- Oh dammit it all come on out will you!” Whooves had to physically place both hooves over his mouth to muffle himself.

“Okay you’ve definitely gone off the deep end,” the mare said. “Come with me, we’re going to bed.”

“Let go of me woman I’m still quite sane! I just... okay just stay here for a second will you?” Zenith said, the sound of him getting up echoing throughout the room.

“Where are you going!?” she wanted to know.

“Just… just humour me would you... you... you damn long necked... thing you!” Zenith barked.

“Alright, alright no need to get fussy,” she advised.

“I am not being... ‘fussy!’” he countered.

“Yes you are, you always use that voice with me when you’re low on blood sugar or don’t get enough rest,” the voice said in a concerned tone. “I think from now on I’ll need to monitor your sleep and eating habits more closely.”

“I’m no lab animal! And I’m eating and sleeping just fine thank you very much!” Zenith yelled. “Why don’t you... make yourself useful and be silent for a moment!”

“Fine fine... I still think you need a nap though,” she said.

“Go to hell! I don’t need no damn nap!” he yelled. “A curse on you and your confounded... n-naps!”

“Well there’s obviously something bothering you,” she said. “Is it those groups of kids who trampled your garden? You know it was an accident, right?”

“Okay first of all those kids are out to get me!” he argued, stomping his hoof against the floor. “And second nothing is bothering me, okay!”

“Well then what’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m telling you nothing is wr--” he tried to say before being cut off.

“Is it because we're out of nutmeg? Is it because I said I didn’t like your last crochet project?” she asked as the sound of her chair squeaking indicated she was now leaning forward. “Is it because you’re still irritable from your constipation?”

It took considerable willpower for Whooves to not fall to the ground in an uncontrollable laughter as he placed his bag across his face to muffle any loose chuckling.

“Oh for the love of-- STOP TALKING!” Zenith roared, his face a mixture of his natural purple and red. “Just... just stay put, shut up, I’ll be right back God fucking dammit.”

“Oh you definitely need that nap,” she advised under her breath as he rounded his chair to limp his way over to the hallways. Whooves was moments away from keeling over with laughter when his mentor turned the corner to look up at him with annoyed eyes.

The two said nothing with Zenith waiting for Whooves to calm himself so he could properly talk.

“Enjoying yourself?” Zenith asked.

“Very much so,” Whooves chuckled. Were he younger Zenith might have punched him in the shoulder but at his age doing so would hurt him more than Whooves. So instead he grabbed him by his sleeve and tugged on him to follow, calling out to his friend along the way.

“Now then Ginger, look who I found!” Zenith said as he brought Whooves into the library which was both warm and quite luminous from a built in stone fireplace on the far end of the room. While the living room had a few bookshelves this room had several to the point where it was difficult to see the walls.

There was only one window but it too was hard to see with a bookshelf partially blocking it, giving a sense that whoever set up the area didn’t believe in fung shway. On one end of the room there was a ladder that led to a higher area of the house, most likely to the observatory seen prior to his breaking in.

Although this room was just as cluttered as the previous one it was actually less messy with the wide array of unpacked valuables at least set up in neat, evenly spaced piles and proper locations. Opposite the ladder was a workbench where chemicals and jarred specimens were either on display or locked up in a see-through case.

In the center of all this were two large armchairs, one red and the other brown. They were partially facing each other and the fireplace with a medium sized table in between them which was holding two cups and a kettle of tea. At the moment the red chair was being occupied by a strange mare who was now looking at the two stallions in confusion.

“Oh!” she said. “I didn’t realize we had a guest.”

Whooves thought it interesting that of all ponies in the world Zenith would be drinking tea with a Unicorn, a Unicorn with some odd proportions. She was tall and lanky like some ponies were but her neck looked to be twice the size of her own body. In addition, her brown mane and yellow body gave the impression that she was giraffe rather than a pony, but the horn on her head was evidence enough that she was a Unicorn as well as a cutie mark depicting two trees bending into each other to form a heart.

“Zenny dear, who is this young pony?” she asked.

“‘Zenny?’” Whooves snorted which made Zenith shoot him a dirty look before ignoring his remark altogether.

“Why Ginger Snap, I’m surprised at you!” Zenith scolded his friend. “Don’t you recognize greatness when you see it?”

“Oh give me a break.” Whooves sighed.

“No, no, no I’m serious!” Zenith argued. “Come on Ginger, think about it! Think back 40 years ago, Canterlot city, a day that changed our lives forever!”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what-- I mean he kind of looks like Dr. Whooves but that can’t--” Ginger said, stopping mid sentence as the realization hit her like a runaway train. “No... i-it can’t be!”

Zenith’s guest was so shocked that she dropped her teacup onto the thick rug below, fortunately not staining it as she had yet to refill it. It was like her brain had been turned off and was slowly rebooting while the two Earthponies approached the center of the room, smiling along the way.

“Come and join us, Whooves,” Zenith offered. “We have much to discuss.”

“Yes,” Whooves agreed. “Yes we do.”