Episode 18: Dr. Whooves on the Daily Show

Whenever Whooves jumped from point to point on any given timeline he did so instantly and depending on where in time he went to or what mode of time travel was selected he would quantum leap into his own body in whatever situation was currently happening, which is the method he used on Jon before and during his show.

Sometimes for fun, or as he liked to refer to it, as experimentation, he’d start the day leaving his house and just run around acting crazy or incoherent in order to cause as much commotion as possible. Before he could get into any trouble or cause too much of a stir he’d just travel back to just before he left the house, this time with the intention of not doing any of the things he had done. Like someone playing a videogame and pressing “quick load” after slaughtering an entire village, but Whooves never took it that far... obviously.

The one advantage that Whooves had early on in life, which prepared him to be a time traveler, was his unique ability to never forget anything. This meant that whenever he did travel back to a key point in time as himself he’d never be confused or unsure of what to say or how to feel, as was the case when he went back to his lunch meeting with Jon.

“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 roared as he bent down and picked up a handful of lettuce that remained of his once present salad. “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. “You have no idea how many times we’ve done this.

“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 Whooves 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. “Tell ‘Charlie the elephant’ I said ‘hi.’” And with that Whooves made his way to the entrance of the restaurant, leaving Jon feeling a variety of emotions, one of which was now confusion.

“What?” Jon thought. “Charlie the elephant?” Despite Whooves’ baffling farwell, Jon could not be distracted from the fact that he had failed.

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. But as he did he felt something a little extra.

Looking down he saw something hidden just under his printed out check which felt like a small cylindrical cigar holder. Whatever it was it didn’t feel like a mint, a piece of candy, or any other kind of prize one gets after eating at a restaurant. Curious to see what it was he lifted the check and what he saw caused him to momentarily recoil his hands in shock.

In the middle of his check tray was a medical syringe which contained some sort of green liquid.

“What the hell?” Jon thought, looking to his right to see if he could still see Choatcheck and perhaps ask him what was the meaning of this.

His first instinct was to get rid of whatever it was as he knew the dangers of touching a foreign object such as this, but the more he looked at it the more he noticed how professional looking it was. Whatever it was it hadn't been used, he could tell by the seal which wasn't broken around the cap that covered the needle.

The only part of it that had been altered was the fact that the green vial of liquid was attached at some point ready to be used. Although he was still hesitant about whatever this was he couldn't help but further investigate. Reaching out he grabbed the fully loaded medical device and turned it upside down to see if he could find anything worth reading and to his surprise he did.

The vial that was connected to the inside of the syringe had a label on it which read as any other instruction label would for medicine, which Jon now realized it was. It had instructions on how to load and apply to a patient as well as the amount that was inside, which was not that much. As he continued to read he found the most incredible information of all.

“‘From the personal supply of Dr. Zenith PHD,’” Jon read out loud, having no idea who that was. “‘Please use by the date of--”

Shocked, Jon had to read it again. If what the label was saying was true then the expiration date on this thing wasn’t until about a thousand years from now. Normally Jon would believe this to be a massive typo but at the same time he was quick to remind himself that he had just moments ago finished having lunch with a time traveler.

While not wanting to get his hopes up he still found himself breathing heavily. He tried to remain calm and collected but found that equally impossible once he got to the medical description portion which contained terms and ingredients he didn’t understand, but there was part that was unmistakable, the last line which read in bold letters “Clausus cure.”

“I don’t... WHOOVES!” Jon yelled, finally looking up only to see that his friend was long gone. Standing now his little outburst caught the attention of the entire restaurant yet again as well as the owner who made his way over.

Sitting back down, Jon tried to make sense of the situation, it all seemed too unbelievable, but if what he understood was true, Whooves had somehow given him a cure... a cure to the disease that just a few hours ago he was told there was no cure for.

“Oh... my God,” Jon said under his breath as Coatcheck finally made his way to his table.

“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 over at the Castle and then back at his table.

“Uh... um! I-I’ll take it to go!” Jon roared.

“B-but where are you going?” he asked as Jon rounded the front entrance and ran down the street.

“I’M GOING TO THE CASTLE!” Jon roared back with the biggest smile on his face. “I HAVE A FRIEND TO SAVE!”