Episode 18: Dr. Whooves on the Daily Show

by Daily Show Ponies

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Crossover, Dark, Alternate Universe, Human, Comedy
Length: 134601

Jon Stewart interviews Dr. Whooves at the end of an episode of 'The Daily Show"

In this very special episode of the Daily Show Jon Stewart goes head to head with his most difficult interview of all time, the time lord himself Dr. Whooves. But this is an interview with a difference because there's more at stake here than just putting on a good show; the outcome may very well determine the fate the many ponies and humans watching, forever!

This story takes place chronologically somewhere in the middle of Season three. This is very important to note since Whooves' time traveling plays an important role in this episode and there will be references to past events that haven't occurred in this story's timeline.

Please feel free to leave a suggestion for who Jon should interview next.

A special thanks to Cantankerous and Zeta040 for proofreading this giant of a story.

Disclaimer: One does not need to read previous interviews to read this though there might be some references to previous guest appearances.
For more Equestrian interviews with Jon Stewart please visit the browse section of all my other stories.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-10 16:44:42 UTC

Why did it have to be waiting rooms

There is some debate on the explanation of the phenomenon known as déjà vu, where a subject experiences a sensation that they’ve lived the same event twice.

Psychologically there hasn’t been an exact answer to this everyday occurrence but what some scientists have theorized is that the reason this happens has to do with the subject’s mind playing tricks on them by making them think what they’ve experienced isn’t new information. This theory suggests that the reason something seems so familiar is because it literally just happened and that’s what you're remembering, like your brain is a record and it just skipped a beat so it forgets to register it the first time.

However for Jon the eerie sense of familiarity he felt the night before was one that was not from any subconscious tomfoolery but one he could logically make a connection with. Getting a letter from Celestia, talking with her on a cold New York night, staying up lost in thought about personal issues... he knew exactly why this was all too familiar. Only this time Celestia wanted to help Jon in a different way.

As Jon sat in the hospital’s emergency room level of Canterlot Castle he couldn't help but feel nervous about what was about to happen; mostly because he had no idea what it was. The last person he expected to contact him the night before was Celestia, especially since she’d been dodging his calls for the past couple of days and historically speaking Jon was the one who called her, not the other way around. But she did call and it was regarding Trixie but despite this being what he wanted all along, Jon still felt uneasy about this whole situation; which could easily be explained given his current location.

“Waiting rooms,” Jon thought to himself. “Why did it have to be a waiting room?”

The feeling of having to wait in an environment such as this made Jon squirm in his seat, which was about a size too small, but that’s not what made him the most uncomfortable... it was knowing that at any moment he would be called in to Trixie’s room where he would see her for the first time since the attack on his show... he had no idea what to expect.

Much like what one would expect from a hospital his surroundings were tailored to help folks like Jon feel less anxiety for having to be here in the first place. The interior was a light shade of sterile purple, and while most hospitals would have consciously painted their walls that color for a soothing effect the pony architects who designed this wing of the castle were fortunate enough to work with the Castle’s default appearance.

Canterlot Castle was constructed from an obscure type of limestone that was not indigenous to the human world, with certain interior additions made later on from sandstone, giving both the outside and inside a natural hue of purple. And since some portions of the castle were added on later, the surfaces of older areas of the castle had faded into either a pure white or an off blue color.

This meant when the hospital wing was added it already had a color scheme typical for conveying a safe and calming environment. And much like the rest of the castle this area also came complete with stained glass windows as well as the occasional statue which to Jon made it seem more like a church than a hospital. However the further one ventured into the built in clinic the more modern things became.

The entrance leading to the hospital was the same as the rest of the Castle, a combination of brightly colored fixtures, spiral designs, and carefully woven tapestries to either admire or walk on. The hospital lobby and waiting area were more or less the same to help ease the transition; if anything it was cluttered with many outlets to keep ponies occupied. It wasn’t until one started to explore the patient’s rooms, offices, and hallways that lead to them, did the look lean more conservative with less distracting decorations and amenities but the all important color scheme still ever present.

But for now Jon was still stuck sitting in the middle portion of the transition stage where things were half hospital and half castle. And while normally this would be the part where he would have to explain to some random fan what kind of circumstances would lead him back to the world of ponies, out of respect no pony waiting dared talk to the out of place human.

The most common question asked of Jon by a pony was why he was visiting the particular location he was currently occupying, but since this was a hospital a few of them could hazard a guess and figured that the last thing he wanted to deal with was a fan asking him for an autograph and picture. Not that there was any shortage of ponies nearby that could have done so.

Even in a private hospital located at the heart of a Castle the waiting room was somewhat densely packed, with a variety of ponies most of whom were, like Jon, only visiting and not patients themselves. When Jon looked over he saw a little colt pointing in his direction and asking his mother a question, he assumed it was something ill-mannered since he was immediately scolded

In stark contrast to the wide spectrum of ponies waiting with him Jon noticed that the ponies on staff today were virtually all of the same race. There was an assumption on his part that most doctors in Equestria were Unicorns since, in lieu of any significant technology, Equestria’s culture and foundation were built on magic, and as he sat waiting for his turn he soon discovered that his assumption was in fact true.

Every nurse or doctor that passed by on their way to a new patient was a Unicorn with every other support position being anything but. In truth, much like the arts, the medical field was a largely Unicorn dominated branch of society, this was because not only did having access to spells give them an advantage in the world of medicine but because a large amount of modern pony medical techniques were healing spells, something which Jon had experienced first hand.

Jon watched pony after pony scurry by him and could tell the hierarchy based on which race of pony was doing what. Doctors and nurses were Unicorns, Orderlies and those who transported supplies were Pegasus, and janitors or those who did nothing but welcome guests were Earth Ponies. And since he had been waiting for quite some time he had the opportunity to see this up close.

The way the hospital was laid out resembled that of a large tree. The trunk of the hospital was the lobby which was large enough on both the left and right hand side to serve as a waiting room. From there hallways were sprawled out in all directions leading to designated rooms and stations, acting as the branches. With Jon waiting at the base of the hospital he saw many employees making their way to the center only to go down a new hallway to another area, all the while noticing the same pattern over and over again; Unicorns were the doctors and everyone else was a support member.

Even when Jon was teleported just outside the hospital he saw this chain of command right away. His objective was to give the envelope that Celestia had delivered to him to the secretary greeting all entering patrons. An Earthpony with a silver body and light blue mane was the first to help Jon, she explained that he would need to fill out some documents and show some identification before he could see a patient. This formality was quickly quashed when Jon gave her the document filled royal parcell explaining that none of that was necessary.

From there all Jon had to do was wait, and wait he did... which was what he hated most about waiting rooms.

Ironically, this was actually one time where he had hoped that someone would come up to talk to him. Sitting like this in silence while waiting for his name to be called out was beginning to make him more anxious than he thought possible. His leg began to shake uncontrollably and he had to loosen his tie which felt too tight around his neck. In typical fashion he showed up in a suit which only made him more uncomfortable in the summer heat.

Usually the waiting room at Canterlot Hospital wasn’t quite the level of quiet as what was being experienced by Jon, but it was a slow day and those who were waiting didn’t say anything due to their attention being on Jon, each of them speculating as to why he was here.

But just then, as if life wanted to give him a break, Jon began to feel something vibrating in his breast pocket followed by the sound of chirpy music. Anxiously, though he wasn’t sure why, he threw his hand into his pocket so hard he jabbed himself painfully. Some ponies watched as Jon took out his phone, looked at the screen with nervous excitement and then proceeded to slink back into his seat with a look of utter disappointment. It was work. With a swipe of his finger he picked up on the third ring.

“What is it?” Jon asked in a harsh tone.

“Jon, it’s me,” Selina said. “Where are you? Morning rehearsals have already started.” The last thing on Jon’s mind, and indeed the last thing he wanted to be on his mind was work but even now he couldn't help but feel guilty for not calling in sick.

“Oh right,” he blurted. “Sorry but... an emergency came up so I’ll... look, just tell them to go on without me I’ll try to come in as soon as possible.”

“... Alright,” she said. “Will this take long or should I have a back up episode on standby?”

Before answering Jon looked at his clock, a somewhat redundant thing to do since he wasn’t sure what time it was here in Equestria.

“Pssssh um... yeah I should be back in time but keep one handy just in case,” he said.

“Are you alright... you sound... perturbed,” she commented.

“I’m fine, I’m just... I’m at the hospital... the pony one, I’m here to see Trixie,” he explained, causing Selina to pause for a second. She, like everyone back home had no idea where he had went and now she was even more worried.

“O-oh... I see,” she stuttered. “You okay?”

“I already said I’m fine,” Jon snapped. “Now unless there’s anything else I really should--”

“Actually... there is one more thing,” Selina interjected.

“... What?” Jon sighed.

“About tomorrow’s show... don’t know if you recall but two weeks ago you made that announcement,” she reminded him. “That you’d be interviewing a pony guest for another segment of ‘Equestrian Interviews.’”

While Jon could wish for the luxury of being ignorant here he knew all too well what his assistant was referring to. Last week he promised the world that he would interview a pony on Thursday to end on a high note before his week long break.

“Oh... right,” Jon squirmed.

“So... who’s it going to be?” she asked.

“Uuuuuh... I don’t know,” he answered in a tone most uncaring.

“J-Jon I... I need to know,” Selina urged. “The interview is tomorrow and we already made a promise to--”

“I said I don’t know!” Jon barked, silencing his assistant and in the process making him feel guilty for doing so. “I’m sorry I’m just... okay look, just put up a poll on our website.”

“... A poll?” she echoed.

“Yeah, put up a poll asking the fans who they want to see the most,” Jon explained. “Let them do the footwork. Whoever they pick I’ll get to come on. Okay? Good, I need to go.”

“W-wait a minute!” Selina argued. “How are they going to--”

“Sorry Selina can’t hear you I’m going through a pony tunnel!” Jon rushed before hanging up. With a sigh he turned off his device and threw it back into his pocket. Again there was only silence, leaving Jon to concentrate on more pressing issues.

From there about the only thing he could hear, besides the idle flipping of magazine pages and clanging of medical supplies as doctors hurried from one room to the next, was the receptionist who would unfailingly say “good morning” when someone entered and “have a nice day” whenever someone left. Every single time someone passed by it was  “good morning” and “have a nice day” in a cheerful voice that probably took years of practice to obtain. And sometimes, just to spice things up, she’d hit them with a “we hope you feel better.” Her tone never wavered and her pitch stayed the same leaving Jon wondering if it was just a recording and she was lip synching.

For the sake of his own sanity Jon tried to ignore her. It wasn’t until a blue and yellow Pegasus, with a bandaged up left wing, entered the building did he turn his head in shock.

“Good afternoon,” the receptionist said in her typical cheery tone.

“Afternoon!?” Jon thought. “Christ, how long have I been here!?”

Vulnerability was not something that people like Jon, who lived in New York and worked in the entertainment industry, could afford to express, but anyone looking at him now could tell that he was rendered defenseless.

With his hands over his face Jon hunched over in his seat like he was about to pass out, something of a social faux pas in a hospital. The stress had finally gotten to him. The situation was becoming more clear with each passing second, he was here because Trixie had gotten worse... that was the only explanation for his presence being requested.

It was right then and there that Jon realized how much he didn’t want to be here. As much as he wished to be by Trixie’s side and bring her back home to his wife and kids a part of him couldn't bare the thought of seeing her so small and helpless.

Jon didn’t like to come off as vulnerable but he hated it even more when it was his own family.

Placing his hand on the armrest of his tiny chair Jon tried to hold on like he was afraid he would collapse at any moment. As if she felt the same way a pony approached Jon and placed a hoof on his shoulder, not to comfort him but to merely get his attention.

“Excuse me? Mr. Stewart?” the nurse Unicorn said, her yellow hair and a dark pink body unseen by Jon who still had his face in his hands. “I understand you’re here to visit one... Trixie. Visiting hours are now open so if you’d like I’ll show you to her room.”

The pony in question was surprised when Jon shot his head up so quickly he almost headbutted her in the face.

“Yes!” Jon blurted. “I mean... yes I would... I would like to see her p-please!”

“Alright then.” She extended her hoof to help him up. “Just follow me and we’ll be there in no time... did you sign in up front already?”

“Yes I... yes I did,” he answered as the two began to walk straight ahead, weaving in and out of incoming residents. “So uh... how is Trixie?” Jon’s heart bounced as the words exited his mouth. He barely remembered formulating the question in his head before blurting it.

“Oh I’m sorry I wouldn’t know,” she answered. “She’s not a patient of mine.”

“Oh... okay,” Jon sighed, almost with relief.

As the two walked further into the hospital Jon realized that this place was different from where he had been treated. When Chrysalis attacked both he and Trixie were hospitalized in a private room near the heart of the Castle. This structure however was located more towards the base of the Citadel and was much larger, as evident by how far in they had to walk.

Like a maze the two walked in several different directions, his overshadowing size not so much noticed as usual since ponies were hard at work, though he still got the more than occasional odd look. Like every hospital Jon was able to catch a glimpse of other patients either through an open door or clear window. Some of them were old while others were young, Jon could tell how some were more loved by how many flowers they had and could also tell how some were more healthy looking than others. But none of them looked as bad as Trixie when she was first brought in.

Jon’s legs actually began to feel tired as he continued to walk. He once again recalled when he was being treated here and thanked God that it was in that private room near the throne room rather than this place... otherwise his stealthy escape would have been impossible. Thinking about that day only made him think about Trixie again which in turn made him walk slower and breathe more heavily.

This was it. Finally after days of trying Jon was getting to see his Trixie again only now things seemed all too real, even with multi-colored talking horses walking around. He began to think that perhaps he wasn’t ready to face her again, not after all that had happened, but before he could doubt himself any further he heard a voice.

“Here we are,” the helpful nurse informed.

“I-- what?” Jon stumbled as he almost walked into her.

“Room 539... this is where Trixie is staying,” she explained. “Would you like me to come in with you?”

“... no... that’s.... that’s alright,” he said. “I’ll... I’ll be fine.” Knowing better than to offer again the nurse pony bowed then walked away, leaving Jon once more alone. From there he did nothing. A good five minutes passed and all he did was stare at the door while the background noise of hospital antics filled his ear.

A deviant thought crossed his mind, the thought that if he left now he could probably get away in time before anyone noticed. This idea was quickly set aside by his mind telling him how wrong it was and by his body commanding him to knock on the door. Jon felt as if he had no control over anything he was doing or thinking, so when it was decided for him that now was the time he had no choice but to accept it.

He held his breath and continued to do so till he heard something. And that something was the sound of whoever it was on the other end the door walking over. Moments away from what he wanted he found himself unable to move, time itself felt as if it was slowing down to a crawl while his heart beat and sped up to an unhealthy pace.

Soon the reality of the situation evolved to its next logical outcome. The door opened.

Together at last

Despite his background Jon wasn’t much of a religious man, nor was he one to put any stock in the workings of superstition. He may’ve ironically thrown some salt over his shoulder or walked into a casino backwards just for the sake of novelty but for the most part he knew that everything could be explained through analytical reasoning.

But even now he felt as if he was looking down on himself, watching as he saw how he was knocking on the door containing his once snarky friend Trixie, in what other not so like minded people would call an “out of body experience.”

When he tried to think about how he ended up in this situation and the events that ultimately led up to it his mind went blank. As if the door in front of him going into motion shattered everything around him leaving only the here and now for him to dwell on.

But while Jon had a hard time focusing on what series of events brought him here he knew that a majority of it was spent by him imagining what kind of state Trixie was in. Was she doing better, or was she still connected to the wall, did she get worse or perhaps maybe she had gotten cured of whatever might or might not still be afflicting her. In practice his mind punished him by making him consider the worst possible situation, like him having to accept that the scenario existed where he would arrive only to find her in laying in bed with her blanket placed completely over her head.

Slowly the door to Trixie’s hospital room opened up, gradually revealing the scene before him like an image being loaded on an old Macintosh computer on dial up, with Jon’s brain registering the image at about the same speed.

The image before him was, thankfully, not what he had expected... but what he had hoped.

When Jon’s eyes finally adjusted as to what he was looking at he was stunned with a familiar sense of paralysis taking over his body. The first person he saw wasn’t Trixie but was in fact a kind of Nurse Unicorn wearing scrubs that were the same shade of light blue as her body, which contrasted nicely with her fluffy white hair which made it look like clouds were constantly following her.

She opened the door revealing a plain looking single room with only one small reading desk next to a bed and a window on each side; one showing a view of the outside of the castle main gate and a decent view of a courtyard.

The inside decor was similar to the color patterns on the wall, done in a way to lead a person’s eyes to the next. The floor was a purple and white tile pattern which matched a large silk curtain in the middle of the room which separated the area in half if a patient wanted privacy.

However today the curtain was recoiled since the suite was only currently being occupied by one person. That person being Trixie who was in the center of the room. There she half sat and layed in her bed, by herself with no earthly possessions to keep her company other than a cafeteria tray of food on her lap, containing a banana, some pudding, and a cob salad.

She had no tubes up her nose or machines strapped to her legs. In fact the only piece of technology in the room was the one television in the corner where the ceiling and walls met. Slowly Trixie turned to face Jon as she idly chewed on her remaining food, it was there that Jon got a good look at her for the first time since the attack. Their eyes met and as if they were each other’s mirror image they smiled at the same time. Trixie did not look sick, injured, or subject to any other kind of ailment, she looked... great.

Neither of them said anything which made the nurse step up to speak, though her words were just muffled noises to them both.

“Hi my name is Bundle, I’m the assistant nurse to Doctor Gallops who is taking care of Trixie here,” she said. “And you must be--”

“JON!” Trixie interrupted.

“TRIXIE!” Jon yelled back as he burst his way into the room. Without even noticing Jon bolted past the door so forcefully that he knocked over the nurse in the process, but even if he did notice he wouldn't have helped her as he was too busy making his way to his friend with open arms.

In response to the Jewish giant heading her way Trixie giddily threw her hooves up to prop herself up to a sitting position. In the process she inadvertently tossed her tray of food into the air whereupon a large portion of horrible tasting pudding found its way straight into the face of the nearby nurse and the bowl of salad on top of her head.

Picking herself up to all fours the nurse wiped the glob of cream like gelatin away from her eyes just in time to see the two friends sharing a loving embrace. Rather than continuing with her introduction she casually made her way to the door to give them some privacy... but not before falling back down to the ground when she slipped on the banana that also fell on the ground.

“Trixie I’m so glad to see you’re alright!” Jon said in a muffled tone, with his face buried into her shoulder and mane. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too Jon.” Trixie gasped for breath as she tried to match Jon’s intensity by hugging him as tightly as he was her. “You’re holding me too tightly.”

Quickly, though delicately, Jon distanced himself from her whereupon she took a deep breath so quickly she began to cough. In response to this a guilty looking Jon began to frantically throw his hands back and forth, like he wanted to comfort her but was afraid that he would hurt her again.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed as Trixie continued to gasp for breath. “H-here I’ll get you some water!”

Failing to keep his composure Jon began to scurry around the room to try and find anything that could help his friend. He looked to see if she had a water bottle (something which didn’t even exist in Equestria) or glass of water that came with her meal, but found nothing.

He then turned his attention to the room’s almost nonexistent fixtures to see if he could find a sink, but he found none in this minimalistic environment. With the door still open, and partially blocking part of a counter top, he quickly went to shut the door in the hopes of perhaps finding a hidden water cooler or sink. Unknown to him the nurse who first tried to help him popped her head back in to see if they were alright only to receive a face full of door from Jon at that very moment.

Running back to Trixie’s side he searched for some kind of button designated for calling a resident to come help them when something grabbed ahold of his sleeve. Turning his attention back to the bed he saw Trixie had now stopped heaving and was holding onto her human friend with both hooves.

“Jon... calm down,” she advised. “I’m fine... you seriously need to relax.”

“Yeah... yeah, you’re right.” He sighed as he sat down next to her, out of breath, and holding his heart.

“Are you going to be alright?” she asked as she gently rubbed his back to encourage him to breathe.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” he assured her as he took off his jacket and loosened his tie. “I just need to... catch my breath.” Reaching over to the desk on the other side of the bed Trixie took something and handed it to Jon.

“Here, drink this,” she said handing him a glass of water. “It’ll help.”

“Thanks,” Jon said doing as she asked.

Out of concern for his well being Trixie continued to massage his back as Jon let himself sink deeper into the memory foam mattress. The way he breathed with such difficult reps as he clenched his heart gave the impression that perhaps he needed to see the nurse more than Trixie.

Eventually Jon did catch his breath and it was only when he did finally calm down did he feel something grab on to him yet again. It was Trixie who once again threw her hooves around Jon (their size difference meaning that she could only go halfway around his stomach) and squeezed as tight as she could.

“Thank you for visiting me!” she said while simultaneously holding back tears of joy. “For a while... I thought I’d never see you again.” Instead of verbally comforting her Jon gently placed his hand around her shoulder, applying more pressure on her with his one arm then she could with all her hooves combined.

A moment of sentimental silence took effect, leaving Jon to look around and take stock of how little there was in this room. He wasn't expecting a luxurious five star room with all manner of amenities at one’s disposal but this was a hospital located in the Castle and he wanted nothing but the best for his pony friend.

“They could have at least put you in a better room,” Jon sneered as he looked in the direction of where he thought Celestia would be.

“Actually... I was the one who requested this room,” Trixie revealed. Changing position she sat up to address him better which she found difficult with Jon lovingly scratching her behind the ear. “When I started to feel better I asked that they move me to this room instead... I didn’t want them to waste an upscale suite on me when somepony else could have used it.”

There was always an understanding on Jon’s part that underneath her off putting exterior Trixie had a soft spot but even he was surprised by this kind gesture. The Trixie he first met would have demanded the best room the hospital had if she so much as stubbed her hoof or got a splinter.

“How long have you... you know... felt better?” Jon asked.

“About a week after the incident,” she answered in a voice like it was no big deal.

In Jon’s old age he found it increasingly difficult to understand certain aspects of life. As an adult he couldn’t see why kids loved cinnamon toast crunch and in addition he also had a hard time seeing why Trixie seemed laid back about the prospect of her almost dying. It would appear by her straightforward attitude that she was more strong willed about the subject than Jon, or perhaps she was just trying act brave in the presence of her dear friend.

Had Jon been paying more attention he would have noticed that despite being in this hospital for months according to Trixie her condition was better only a few weeks after the attack which meant that she was being held longer for some reason.

The reason he didn’t catch this was because there was something else he noticed, or rather something he didn’t notice. And that was the fact that her room was completely devoid of any balloons, flowers, or get well cards, really anything that showed that someone other than him came to visit her and wish her well. It would seem that even with one hoof in the grave the people of this world still didn’t appreciate her as much as he would have wanted.

This made the room look even more empty than before which made him recall something that he had nearly forgotten.

“Oh right! I almost forgot!” Jon said as he reached into his breast pocket. “Here, this is for you.”

Scooting down the bed a bit he presented Trixie with what looked like an ordinary sheet of paper folded in half with the words “To: Trixie” on the cover in sloppy handwriting. Carefully she opened it and saw what was inside which prompted her to place a delicate hoof over her mouth as if she was trying to hide her glowing smile.

“Awwwwww how sweet!” she proclaimed as she marveled at the image before her. It was a crayon and marker drawing of the Stewart family, which included: Jon, Tracey, Maggie, Nathan, and of course Trixie.

The background was of a house with all five of them standing in front of it. The bottom of the card was colored in green while the top part was blue to indicate earth and the sky respectively, leaving the center of the picture plain white like they were in purgatory.

Everything from the house to the character designs were sloppily done with irregular proportions, evidences of mistakes, and failed attempt to color inside the lines. The project was childlike, hokey, and home spun, and it worked effectively in touching Trixie right in her heart. Especially with the phrase “Get well soon” on top like a banner in increasingly smaller letters, as if whoever wrote it realized they were running out of room.

“This is... so sweet.” She sniffled as she wiped a tear from her cheek. Leaning forward she placed the card on her nightstand where it stood by itself facing in their direction, giving her a good view of the entire thing. “I love it! Tell Maggie and Nathan it’s my favorite drawing yet!”

“Oh um, well actually... I uh... I drew that,” Jon said after an embarrassed cough. “I uh... when Celestia told me I could visit you it was... such short notice that I didn’t have time to get you anything so I... I used some of the kid’s arts and crafts supplies that they left in the living room.”

Utterly speechless, though still very much appreciative for the gesture, Trixie looked back at the drawing and noticed some tell tale signs that perhaps an adult had done this rather than children. For one the names over each person’s head as well as the banner were all spelled correctly and in somewhat neat handwriting. But at the same time it still looked artistically amateurish which at first she believed was because a child did it but now realized that it was because the person doing the drawing was in a hurry.

The faulty dimensions of the house and the fact that Trixie was only drawn with three legs seemed like something even the young Stewart kids would have picked up. Even though this revelation was still new and hanging in the air Trixie was still very much touched by the gesture.

“O-oh I see. It’s... it’s really nice,” she complimented, trying to salvage the awkwardness of inadvertently calling Jon’s art child level. Leaning forward she began to point at different portions of the picture. “I really like the uh... I really like how the house is the same size as us... and uh... I really like the shade of... um, why instead of blue... do I appear to be purple?”

“I ran out of blue drawing the sky,” Jon sighed. “Sorry.”

“No, no, no I love it! Really!” she assured him. “I especially like how I seem to be holding... some kind of orange ball?”

“That’s a tangerine,” Jon corrected.

“Oh...OH! I see it now!” she fibbed as she tilted her head to look at it from a different angle. “Um... why am I holding a tangerine?”

“Oh no reason,” he answered. “I just really wanted to use the orange crayon at the time.”

Like before Trixie was fully prepared to accept this explanation and compliment his decision accordingly, but the way he answered made her double over in laughter which made Jon do the same. Were it not for the thick walls some of the other residents would have been awoken by the sound of the two literally falling over each other in hysterical laughter.

“I’m... I’m sorry!” Trixie giggled. “But you are terrible at drawing!”

In response to this Jon grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it at her face with such force that it sent her head flying back to the bed, almost hitting the backboard in the process.

“Oh shit! Sorry!” Jon apologized, as he leaned forward to help her, trying to stop his laughing ahead of schedule. “Are you alri--”

Before he could finish his sentence Trixie retaliated by grabbing her other pillow and slapping Jon across the face with it. He tried to regain his composure but before he could he was hit again and again. This time their laughter was so loud those in the rooms next door could hear them clear as day.

Some of the neighbors and nurses on staff thought about breaking it up but they all collectively decided not to... this was the happiest they had ever seen her.

Something is wrong with me

Since his arrival to Trixie’s room none of the hospital faculty came to talk to or interrupt them, with the exception of an Earthpony janitor who was tasked with cleaning up the food left behind on the floor by the blue Unicorn when she leapt from her bed. When this custodian entered the room, about a half hour after Jon’s arrival, he saw the two of them still resting on the bed in mid-conversation, his presence unbeknownst to them.

This simple brown coated Earthpony, with slicked back green hair, thought it was cute how both Jon and Trixie were sitting side by side in the bed with Trixie under the covers and Jon with one foot on the ground. This scenario closely resembled a father about to tell a story to his child just before bedtime, making the image of them together even more adorable.

Before cleaning up the food on the ground the Janitor accidently eavesdropped on them and could tell that they were discussing personal issues, so he decided to clean up the still present mess and leave as quickly as he could. Leaving the two alone once again.

“So... why didn’t you visit me sooner?” Trixie asked. Not out of spite but out of curiosity, even though she already had a good idea.

“Sweety I tried... God help me I tried,” Jon confessed as he arched his head back. “But whenever I asked to Celestia told me it wouldn't be a good idea... apparently you were either still unconscious or undergoing some kind of medical treatment.”

“Ah... that makes sense,” she admitted. “After what happened I never had any time to myself... they were always doing some kind tests on me... even after I was healed.”

“Wait... remind me again: how long after the uh... the incident did they... you know... run these tests?” Jon asked.

“Oh must have been... maybe a week or so,” she answered. “I felt fine but I was patching in and out for some time. I do remember Celestia as well as a gathering of high level Unicorns coming in to use healing magic on me... from there I was kept for observation... so yeah, even if you wanted to see me I doubt they’d find time to accommodate you... they wanted to make sure there was nothing else wrong with me.”

“Well... as long as it was for your best interest,” he begrudgingly admitted. “And trust me I did want to visit... every day Maggie and Nathan begged me to go see you in person.”

“How are the kids doing?” Trixie asked, as Jon idly scratched the back of her neck. “Please tell me they’re not too worried about me.”

“Oh they're doing great,” Jon answered. “They keep asking about you ya know... they really miss you.”

“I know, I miss them too,” she said as she squeezed Jon’s arm. “Why didn’t you bring them with you to see me?”

“Trust me if I could I would. But you know how Celestia is about limiting how many humans can come here,” he explained as Trixie nodded in agreement. “Plus when I got the call from her to come over here it was way past their bedtime... come to think about it, it’s still too early back in New York for them to be up.”

Jon could have checked his phone to be sure but he didn’t want to shift too much in his seat for fear of causing Trixie some discomfort.

“I’m... sorry you couldn't see them,” he added.

“No, no you made the right call,” Trixie urged. “I wouldn't want them to lose a good night’s rest on my account... I just... I just really hope I’ll get a chance to see them again.”

“HEY! Don’t talk like that!” he demanded. “Once Celestia discharges you from this place we’re going straight home where you belong and everything will be fine.”

Having a place to call home was indeed something that Trixie always wanted. Even now, having been back in Equestria for the first time in months, she felt really out of place without having someone twice her size looking down on her. Even the feminine colors of every exterior felt stranger to her as she yearned for the smoggy, air polluted environment that was Manhatten. She may’ve been born in the countryside and raised in an orphanage on a hill but her time in the human world had molded her into a straight city-girl.

And yet something told her that even though she wanted to go back something beyond her control was keeping her here for good.

“I hope you’re right,” Trixie sighed. “It just feels like...”

“Like what?” Jon asked.

“I don’t know... it just feels like there is something they’re not telling me,” she confessed as she nervously played with her hooves. “I mean I’ve spent more time here being observed and tested than actually healed... and Celestia hasn’t been around in a while. I feel like there is something going on here... like... I don’t know, I’m just a bit paranoid I suppose.”

Jon knew exactly how she felt. For a while now he had the same sense that perhaps he was being kept in the dark about something. At first he chalked it up to simple paranoia as well, but it wasn’t until Celestia was actively ignoring his calls and shutting herself out from the outside world did he suspect that something was going on.

But as he looked upon Trixie now, seemingly healthy, without any pains, and wide awake to the world he was certain that his suspicions were unjust... or at least he hoped so.

“I know it’s crazy... but when I was still being treated I thought that... that I’d never get to see you, Tracey, and the kids again,” Trixie continued after an awkward silence. “I guess I’m just... I’m just a little bit scared... scared that they’re not going to let me leave here or something.”

The more she struggled to speak the more her body trembled in fear. Instinctively Jon wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close for an embrace.

“Don’t worry honey. I won’t let them do that to you,” Jon comfortingly said as he leaned in to give her a peck on the head. “By this time tomorrow you’ll be back home in New York where you belong. Besides, why would Celestia keep you here any more than you need to... I mean it’s not like there’s anything else wrong with you... you’re as healthy as a horse now.”

Jon almost felt like laughing at his accidental pun but decided it wouldn’t be appropriate with Trixie still looking depressed. To help ease her suffering Jon reached over to scratch her head again but it didn’t seem to help much.

“What if... Jon, what if Celestia won’t let me leave?” Trixie asked. “What if she decides that I can’t go back or after this you can’t see me anymore?”

Suddenly Jon felt that now it was Trixie who was keeping something away from him.

“Well... again, I won’t let that happen,” Jon answered. “I’m going to make sure you come back home no matter what it takes. And as for Celestia you leave her to me... I mean I am bigger than she is.”

The attempted bout of levity didn’t help but instead caused Trixie to breathe a most depressed sigh of distress.

“Jon... I just want you to know... that I love you... and I really appreciate you taking me in when nopony else would,” she confessed. “You and Tracey have been like the parents I’ve always wanted but never had, which is why I just want to say how much you and your family mean to me... I say this just in case I never see you again.”

“HEY! I said don’t talk like that!” He barked. “What makes you think this will be the last time I ever see you!? Trust me any second now Celestia is going to come through that door with a clean bill of health and she’ll let me take you back home, which is why she asked me to be here in the first place!”

At this point Jon was slightly out of breath but nevertheless steadfast in his assertion that this was the reason why he was summoned here. Trixie on the other hand was shaking her head in unwanted disagreement.

“I don’t think that’s why she called you here,” she countered, as she turned away to look out the window.. “I think... I... I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“W-what do you mean?” Jon said.

“Jon... Jon ever since... ever since the attack I... I haven’t been able to use my magic,” she revealed sending a shock down Jon’s back, causing him to jolt back in surprise.

“WHAT!?” Jon roared as he looked down at his friend who just revealed that she was unable to do the one thing that made her who she was. Before she could answer his explosive question the door to her room swung open, revealing an entourage of ponies standing outside. One by one, each of them entered the room silently.

The first to enter was the pony nurse who first opened the door for Jon, followed by the practicing doctor on staff who was also white but had neon pink hair. Following behind them were two identical royal guards who were escorting Twilight of all ponies into the room, walking in side by side with the one pony that Jon wanted to speak with most of all; Celestia.

“Jon, I’m so glad you could make it,” Celestia said in her usual, though now mournful tone.

“Celestia... what’s the meaning of this!?” Jon exclaimed as he got up from his bed. “You finally allow me to visit and now I learn that Trixie... that she's disabled!?”

“Jon,” she continued. “There’s--”

“What the hell is going on around here!?” He demanded to know. “Answer me!”

His tone caused the royal guards to take notice since no one was allowed to talk to her like that, but a quick and simple hoof gesture from the royal princess made them stand back.

“Jon, the reason I brought you here is because there is something... terribly wrong with Trixie,” she revealed. “And I felt that it would only be right if you were here to hear this.”

What is going on here!?

The news that something was indeed wrong with Trixie, just as she predicted and Jon feared, caused the wayward human to stagger backwards like a drunk, or a boxer having received a punch. He soon found himself having to place one hand on the nearby nightstand to help prop himself up, accidently knocking Trixie’s “get well soon” card to the ground.

Like before his heart was racing, which forced him to grab a hold of his chest and steady his breathing. No one said anything, with Trixie still in a state of shock herself, and the group of ponies who had initially entered the room respectfully giving Jon time to get situated. For anyone else, the sight of two armed guards, Unicorn doctors, the leader of the Mane Six, and Celestia, god of this world, would have been an intimidating group to have staring you down. But for Jon, his blind rage made it so he couldn't care less who was opposite of him.

“Yeah, you’re damn right there’s something wrong with Trixie!” Jon yelled at Celestia as he advanced towards her, once again earning him the two guard’s immediate attention. “She just told me she can’t use her magic!... W-what’s wrong with her!?”

“Jon my friend please, for this to continue I need you to lower your voice,” Celestia advised. “We’ll be more than willing to explain what’s going on with young Trixie here, but first I need you to restrain yourself.”

Something about her simple request made Jon even angrier. The way he saw it, Celestia had been keeping both he and Trixie in the dark about her medical condition, and was now telling him to calm down like it was nothing. His hand clenched into a fist and even from across the room the large group of ponies could hear him grinding his teeth.

Jon was moments away from yelling even louder when a soft hoof found its way on his hand. When he looked over he noticed that Trixie was now trying her best to physically hold him back, while sporting a look on her face that was a mixture of fear and concern.

“Jon... please,” she said as she motioned for him to sit down. He was fully willing and able to lay into Celestia about all that had just happened, with leftover rage that had been building up from when she would ignore his calls. But as he looked into Trixie’s eyes he soon found all that pent up anger melt away as he realized that his hatred for this awful situation was nowhere as powerful as his love for his Unicorn friend.

Sitting down he placed his arm around Trixie’s shoulder and gently pressed her head against his ribs. He realized how selfish it was of him to want to let go of his anger when his friend needed him now more than ever. After all, she was the one who was apparently still sick, not Jon; though hearing that his friend was not well made his stomach hurt.

“Thank you,” Celestia bowed her head.

“Whatever,” Jon sneered. “Just please... explain to me what’s going on.” She agreed and with that she motioned for everyone to move.

With the unpleasantness that was Jon’s outburst coming to an end, the ponies in the room spread out to their respective spots like a group of actors on a stage taking positions. The two guards stepped outside to guard the door while the doctor walked over towards Trixie’s side of the bed, with her nurse following close behind, as if they didn’t want to be on the same side as Jon.

Twilight, on the other hand, walked straight to Jon with a look in her eyes like she was ready to comfort him at any moment. This left Celestia still standing in the doorway, but soon even she found herself walking forward to address both he and Trixie. Their new positions were done for a comforting effect, as well as standby assistance, but it somewhat backfired since Jon now felt like he was being surrounded.

“Firstly let me just start by saying I’m sorry you had to find out this way... both of you,” Celestia continued, her tone mournful, which caused Jon to grab Trixie’s hoof, squeezing like he had no intention of letting go.

“Just tell us, Celestia,” Jon demanded. “Don’t spoon feed me here.”

“Very well... Trixie,” she added with a pause. “I’m afraid you’ve contracted a case of ‘Magic Clausus.’”

When the diagnosis was finally revealed everyone in the room either shuttered, or turned their head to avoid having to look the patient in the eyes, all but Jon himself, with the impact completely lost on him. Much like how a pony guest sometimes felt when watching his show and having a reference fly over their head. He was fully ready to handle anything she would say with a corresponding response of equal weight but once again his ignorance of pony culture just left him confused and unsure of how to proceed.

Again he felt frustrated; he couldn’t adequately comprehend the gravity of the situation. With infinite slowness Jon turned his head to address Trixie, while still keeping an eye on Celestia.

“Uh, honey?" Jon proceeded. "Any idea what--” His inquiry was cut short by the sight of his friend now staring downwards like she refused to look at anything but her bedsheet covers. Her expression conveyed that she was either about to cry but couldn't, like she was paralyzed, or that someone had just told her that she was about to die. The latter of which was not too far off.

In a panic he quickly looked away to request further information.

“W-what is ‘Magic Clausus!?’” Jon asked as he scouted the room for anyone who might be able to help him with no one willing to do so at first. He was about to yell out his question again with added volume when someone finally stepped up.

“It’s when a Unicorn is exposed to a large dosage of magic that is of a different composition than that of their own,” the female doctor known as Gallops said. “From there the imposing magic enters the host’s body and causes internal complications.”

Before Jon could comment, Celestia stepped forward so the two bedbound guests could hear her.

“Basically Trixie has been poisoned by magic,” she added. Confused, but mostly worried, Jon began to lock eyes with everyone in the room to see if anyone would say anything further. Once it was clear that this was the basis for why he was here he stood back up to address her majesty.

“W-what the hell do you mean she’s poisoned by magic!?” he asked in a loud though shaky tone. “How can she be-- I mean she’s a Unicorn! She controls magic! How can she be poisoned by it!?”

“By the same principle that a blood transfusion needs to be done with the same type of blood as the patient,” the doctor interjected before Celestia could answer the question. “Magic isn’t a single entity, there are different types for different ponies, like how the aura around a Unicorn’s horn is a different color for each pony. Invasive magic has infused itself into Trixie’s magicatory system and her body is now rejecting it.”

“... H-how... how does something like this even happen?” he asked, his grief induced mind unable to focus on the big picture.

Celestia was about to comfort him some more but then she remembered she was directed to not sugarcoat the issue.

“Well... remember when Queen Chrysalis tried to kill you with a magic blast of energy?” Celestia asked, letting the question hang in the air for Jon to catch up.

“Yeah I re--” Jon said, stopping midway as the events of that tragic day reminded him of how Trixie got here in the first place. “Oh no.”

“Yes, I’m afraid... when Trixie teleported in front of you to block her attack... she also got infected by her magic,” she continued as Jon found himself staggering backwards, like her very words were pushing him away.

“Usually a single output of magic isn't enough to infect somepony, which is why this disease is so rare. But in Trixie’s case Chrysalis' magic was so powerful that its energy merged with her,” Gallops added, sparing Celestia the torture of having to explain it herself. “At first, when the patient showed signs of not being able to use her magic, we assumed it was because she used it all teleporting both herself and you to Equestria. But after a week of her magic remaining dormant we suspected something might be wrong.”

“That’s right. And when that happened the princess asked for every medical book I had,” Twilight added, while both Jon and Trixie sat on the bed unable to move as they endured this continuously unfair information. “A Unicorn’s magic being rendered unusable is not something that happens everyday, so we had to look over every possible ailment ever recorded... that’s when we found a very rare disease by the name of Clausus.”

From there the room went so quiet that the guards, who were standing just outside, briefly peaked in to make sure everything was still alright. Out of respect for the situation’s delicate nature, the ponies in the room stayed silent as Jon and Trixie processed this information. From there the medical team assumed Trixie would be next to start asking questions, but once again it was Jon who continued to carry the conversation.

“What are the symptoms?” Jon asked. “What will happen to her if left untreated?”

Everyone in the room, from Twilight to the doctor, had taken turns explaining to Jon about what was going on, in some aspect. But this was the part they had been dreading, the part where they had to explain what Trixie’s fate was, a fate they already knew what the end result would be.

After asking his question the room was once again taken over by a ceaseless bout of silence, with no one pony wanting to say anything. Twilight tried but words refused to leave her mouth, even the trained doctor and nurse who had experience with this sort of situation found themselves unable to continue. Jon was moments away from asking again when someone did eventually speak up; this time it was Celestia who took control of the moment, volunteering herself to break the news and become the new object of hate for Jon.

“The current symptom, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out, is that Trixie will no longer be able to use her magic. Queen Chrysalis’ own magic is now flowing within her, completely jamming her magicatory system,” she answered, causing Jon to tighten his grip on Trixie’s hoof. “From there the infectious magic will spread throughout her body, slowly poisoning her organs, muscles, mind, immune system, and other internal processes. As long as Chrysalis’ dark magic resides in her... her body will slowly shut down.”

Either Trixie was incredibly strong or overcome with fear because throughout the entire deliberation she remained both silent and still. Jon on the other hand was not so reverent. Slowly he stood up from his bed, mildly startling those in the room as he displayed his greater height.

“Is there a cure?” Jon asked, his eyes closed and head tilted down. “Are you doing anything to help her get over this thing?”

Like before no one was eager to answer his question; but were uncomfortable in sharing their knowledge. Jon could sense the hesitation in the room and in response lifted his head and opened his eyes to look at Celestia, those eyes begging her to speak the words he wanted to hear. But sadly, he got just the opposite.

“I’m afraid... there’s nothing we can do for her from a medical perspective,” Celestia said, causing Jon to once again close his eyes and tilt his head. “This disease is so rare that we don’t have much information on it, so no... there is no cure. The best thing we can do for her at this stage of the disease’s development is to make her as comfortable as possible.”

To everyone watching it just looked like Jon was standing still, unable to move, but to the trained eye it would be very evident that in fact he was indescribably furious. Jon took a deep breath and had Trixie been paying attention she would have noticed and immediately realized this and tried her best to comfort him before he erupted. Although since she had just come face to face with her own mortality she could do nothing but remain stationary as Jon exploded forth like a pitbull having chewed through its own leash.

“HOW THE HELL CAN YOU JUST SAY THAT!?” Jon yelled so loudly the nurse pony in the room fell backwards in shock. “You’re just going to give up on her!?”

With each step forward Jon’s anger rose, causing everypony in the room to immediately head him off by stepping in front of Celestia. The first to get inbetween the angry human and the princess were the two guards who thought this very scenario might happen.

“Mr. Stewart I’m afraid I’m going to need you to please calm down!” one of the guards said in a firm tone, but to no prevail.

“Just how long did you know about this but didn't feel the need to tell me!?” he continued to roar, with Celestia standing tall and not showing any sign of emotions. “And now you’re telling me you’re not going to do anything about it! I mean what the hell kind of hospital are you people running here!?”

“Mr. Stewart please!” the assistant nurse implored. “We’re doing the best we can to help your friend but--”

“Well apparently not because from what I understand she will die no matter what!” he yelled. “Actually, I bet you like that she’s staying here in her condition! Bet you're making a good profit off of her or something!” To emphasize his anger he walked up to the nurse so he could look down on her. In response, the two guards forced their way to the forefront of the group to show that they were in control of the situation. It looked as if they were about to ready their weapons when Twilight ran to the side to try and defuse the situation.

“Guards stop! There’s no need for violence, please lower your weapons!” she begged as she turned her attention to her human friend. “Jon I realize this is very difficult for you but please! We need you to calm down!”

Unfortunately Jon’s anger was diverse and knew no exception.

“I don’t NEED to calm down!” he challenged. “What I need is for someone other than myself to actually give a damn about what happens to Trixie here!”

“Jon please!” Twilight begged. “That’s not--”

“No! If you think I’m going to stand here and just let you people do absolutely nothing then you’re crazy!” he exploded as he pushed past those in front of him, accidently stepping on the hooves of the Pony nurse. After bulldozing his way through he got close enough to Celestia that he was able to point a finger at her face. “And you! I don’t care if you are the god of this world! If you don’t do something to help her then I’m going to--”

“JON STOP, PLEASE!” a voice called out. Up until now every pony who tried to reason with him was met with even more hostility, but this time something different happened. It was as if the words uttered were the secret to calming him down, but in fact it was who said it that made him halt his onslaught.

Turning behind him, Jon saw that Trixie had awoken from her trance and was now looking at Jon with tearful eyes. Seeing this caused Jon to set aside his anger and rush towards her, accidentally stepping on and over the pony nurse in the process.

“Baby girl, are you okay!?” Jon asked as he gently began to rub her head while wiping away her tears.

“Please... please stop yelling at them Jon... you’re going to get in trouble.” She sniffed.

“But sweety, don’t you see!?” he asked. “These ponies are not going to help you! They’re just going to leave you here and watch you die!”

Before he could continue his smearing Jon was halted by Trixie quickly throwing her hoof forward, slapping him across the face. Even in her weakened state she could still apply enough force to cause him some pain and silencing him in the process.

“Stop this Jon! Listen to what you’re saying! They wouldn't do that, they’re doing the best they can!” Trixie challenged. “I know this is hard but... the reality here is... like the princess said... there’s nothing more they can do.”

“B-but Trixie,” Jon said. “If we do nothing then you’ll...  I’ll lose you.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” Trixie said. “But... I think I’m ready.”

“R-ready for what?” he asked.

“I think... no... I know I’m ready,” she added. “I’m ready to die.”

The hunt is on

When Celestia first decided to bring Jon to Equestria, for the sake of his show, she did so with the knowledge that both he and her people would benefit from the arrangement. She knew exactly what she was doing and believed to be in complete control of the situation. The attack on Jon’s world via Queen Chrysalis was something she didn’t foresee and as such she felt like she lost control of something that she shouldn’t have.

So when it came to Trixie she wanted to make sure she got the best treatment her castle could offer as an act of penance on her part, but her being infected with an incurable disease was something which, again, she didn’t see coming. She was saddened by the sudden realization that perhaps she wasn’t as in control as she would like to be.

When she made the decision to have Jon with Trixie together as she revealed what her fate would be, she knew that Jon would be mad and made it a point for her to be there so his anger would be directed on her. But even she couldn't have predicted the reaction of Trixie, who accepted her fate and all that came with it.

Everyone present in the room watched as Jon was on his knees trying to make sense of the situation.

“W-what are you saying Trixie?” Jon muttered.

“I’m sorry Jon but... it’s time.” Trixie sighed as a faint smile crept on her face. “I’ve lived a good life and had the chance to experience what most ponies never will in their lifetime... but now it’s coming to end... and I can live with that... or rather I guess I can’t for very long.”

Out of nervous habit she chuckled; Jon found nothing humorous about this.

“Trixie I... no... NO, NO, NO it’s not going to end this way!” he said. “You... you don’t even know what you're saying! I’m sure you’re still shaken from all this, but trust me when I say this isn’t the Trixie I know!”

“Jon... i-it’s me,” she countered. “I know who I am... I’m Trixie... and I’m going to die here in this hospital.”

“NO you’re wrong!” Jon exclaimed. “You’re The Great and Powerful Trixie and you’re coming home with me where you’ll live for many more years to come!” Tilting her head to the side Trixie locked eyes with Celestia, who mostly had her gaze set on Jon.

“Your majesty?” she called out, which made Jon quickly turn to look behind him. “How long do I have to live?” The room filled with the sound of those inhabiting it shifting in place to look upon Celestia. Not at all surprised by her sudden new gained attention, she took a quick breath before answering.

“The life expectancy of Clausus victims depends on how severe the invading surge of magic is,” she answered. “Though in your case... since Chrysalis’ magic is so potent... a week, maybe two.”

“No,” Jon whimpered. He had gotten it into his head that at the very least the disease was manageable enough that she could live for a few more years, years that could be spent trying to find a cure, but this new revelation shattered that notion.

“C-can’t we do something to stall the virus!?” Jon announced, hoping that anyone would have an answer. “Couldn't any of you use some kind of treatment or... or your magic to... I don’t know, halt the virus or just heal her whenever she gets sick?”

“We’ve tried using our magic to repel the invading dark energy,” the doctor said. “But Chrysalis’ dark magic is too strong... it just keeps finding new ways to adapt and spread.”

“And as for simply curing any resulting ailments that arise... it would just be delaying the inevitable,” the white haired nurse added. “If anything... she’d just live longer through constant suffering.”

“B-but, but... AAAAAARGH!!!” Jon roared in frustration. “There’s gotta be something we can do!”

Before anyone could try to talk some more sense into him he felt a tug on his arm, it was Trixie once again trying to get his attention.

“Jon... I know this is difficult but you need to come to the realization that this is it,” she said as she motioned for him to come closer. “I know this is hard for you... it’s hard on me too.”

“Then why?” Jon asked. “Why are you just going to lie back and accept this?” His question was both simple and yet too complicated for Trixie to answer.

“It’s because... because I’ll die knowing I lived a good life... with you and your wonderful family,” she explained as she placed both her hooves over Jon’s hands. “Back when I first was admitted here, before they discovered this virus, the doctors thought I might not make it but then I got better... but for a while I honestly thought I wasn’t going to live... and during that window of doubt... I came to the realization that if I were to die right there and then... I would leave this world without regrets.”

“Trixie,” Jon sniffed.

“It’s a shame I won’t spend my final days with you and Tracey and the kids but the fact that I lived long enough to finally find a home and a family is good enough for me,” she added,  as she began to stroke his hand. “So it’s okay. It’s okay that I’ll--”

“NO IT’S NOT OKAY!!!” Jon yelled as he jumped back and took back his arm in a single full motion, lightly yanking Trixie forward in the process. He stumbled back with so much force he almost fell to the ground.

The way it was broken down to Jon he was beginning to think that he had no options here, either way he was going to lose a friend and at this point the only one who hadn’t come to terms with it was Jon himself. This meant that he began to become desperate.

“Please Celestia you have to do something!” Jon turned around to beg. “If there’s anything I can do just... please, I’ll do anything just don’t let Trixie go through with this!”

“Jon... I’m sorry but there’s nothing any of us can do at this point,” she sighed. “We’ve thought of every possible treatment, but I’m afraid there’s nothing more that can be done.”

“B-but, but... there’s... there's got to be something!” he challenged. “Isn’t there anything we could try!?”

After an inhale, Celestia looked as if she was about to just repeat herself when she was cut off.

“Actually,” Twilight interjected. “I think... I might’ve found a possible treatment.”

All eyes were now on the purple Unicorn, though instead of addressing their shocked expressions right away she quickly used her magic to fish out a book from her saddle bag. This book was quite thick with weathered pages and a bent spine, it’d definitely been used multiple times. The cover was a drawing of a ponies face; had Jon been more knowledgeable on the subject he’d realize that it was of Startswirl the Bearded.

“I was looking in one of my magic tomes and I found something very interesting,” Twilight said as she used her magic to hover the book to Celestia. “See? Right here in chapter 24 it talks about the three levels by which a pony is considered to be sentient.”

“W-what is she talking about?” Jon asked.

“She’s speaking of how a pony’s existence is categorized by levels; mind, body, and spirit,” Celestia answered as the nurse and doctor rounded her to get a better view of what she was looking at.

“Exactly, but look... on the next page it has this.” She demonstrated by turning the page for her. “This spell demonstrates how a core group of ponies are able to use magic to separate each and alter them.”

The somewhat confused look on Celestia’s face was now long gone; the more she looked at what Twilight was showing her the more she seemed not to like it.

“Ah yes, the Entropy spell,” Celestia concluded as she closed the book with her magic and gently sent it back to Twilight. “I’ve already considered this approach and dismissed it.”

For a brief moment there was new hope within Jon, but as if closing that spell book was the trigger Celestia had once again obliterated it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa what!?” Jon blurted. “You knew about a treatment this entire time but won’t do it!?”

“Jon let me explain,” Celestia offered, which caused Jon to take a step back.

“You know what, no! You seem to be hell bent on not wanting to help so I want Twilight to explain this spell to me,” he sneered. Celestia completely understood Jon’s actions but it still hurt her to be in this situation. “Go ahead Twilight... what’s this spell all about?”

Turning to her assistant, Celestia gave her the right to continue. Feeling like she was between a rock and a hard place, Twilight took her time to open the book as she glanced around the room and cleared her throat.

“Well... this spell is a high level incantation known as the ‘Trimuto’ spell,” she explained as she read from her book. “It says here that this spell, when done correctly, has the power to separate a being into three forms of energy. One representing the host’s body, one representing the host’s mind, and of course one to represent the spirit of the host. From there the pony, or group of ponies, are able to use their magic to add, remove, or alter certain aspects of the applicant.”

There was still some confusion on Jon’s part which was both assumed and noticeable to Twilight.

“Here, let me give an example. Let’s say a pony has a fear of heights... by using this spell I could help him overcome his Acrophobia by countless methods. I could simply remove the fear from their mind and be done with it, or I could alter them spiritually so that they no longer are affected by the concept of fear,” she added. “A more roundabout method would be to change them physically so they would have wings... and could overcome their fear by flying, gradually getting used to this.”

Jon’s mind was boggled at what he was hearing. If what he understood was true there was a spell in Twilight’s possession that could alter the very genetic building blocks of life and beyond. With this spell not only could someone genetically alter the mind and body of any given person, but their spirit, the very thing that gave life, could be toyed with as if it was a lego set. Moral dilemmas aside, Jon only cared about one thing.

“Could... could we use this to cure Trixie?” he asked. It was already decided by Celestia that this wasn’t going to happen, though Twilight still felt compelled to answer him...

“If done correctly, yes, easily,” she answered. “Once Trixie’s body is transformed to kneadable energy all that would need to be done would simply be to remove the poison... from there it would be like it never existed.”

There was a slight pause, everyone in the room, including Trixie, were going over this new information, running the possibilities in their heads.

“T-that’s... that’s great!” Jon belted at the top of his lungs, his smile disappeared as suddenly as it arrived once he turned his attention back on Celestia. “Why the hell didn’t you tell us about this sooner!?”

“Because it doesn’t work,” Celestia answered in a firm though understanding tone.

“What?” Jon wimpered.

“I know of this spell... it’s a very ancient and dangerous technique that has been around for almost as long as I have, and never once has it been done properly,” she explained. “It’s been used before: Ancient pony druids would use this spell as a spiritual tool to exorcise demons and those very same demons would use it to make themselves stronger... and every time it’s ended up the same way... with the host dieing as a result.”

Historically speaking, Celesia had made this spell impossible to obtain and illegal to use. This made it so its historical background was lost to anyone but a small handful of ponies... suffice it to say no one in the room knew of its deadly properties.

“You see... in order for this spell to work... it requires a great deal of concentration and understanding of magic on the part of whoever uses it. For somepony to tamper with the mind, body, and spirit of a pony they themselves need to also be in control of their own,” she continued. “And the reason this always fails is because those who have attempted it hadn't been strong enough, or knowledgeable enough to see it through properly. When done incorrectly the pony host will die and even if we do manage to extract the poison, there is no guarantee she’ll come out of it unscathed. Let’s say we do cure her but incorrectly synch her spirit back up with her mind and body, then she’ll be without life anyway... or if we don’t fuse her mind and body back properly and she lives a mindless husk... this is a fate worse than death which is why we cannot risk it.”

Confident that this was enough to get through to him, Celestia walked up to her friend and placed a hoof on his shoulder for comfort.

“I’m sorry, Jon,” she added. “But I’ve thought of everything... there’s nothing more any of us can do for her.” And then silence, a silence she took to mean Jon had finally given up. She underestimated his persistence.

“Have you ever done this spell before?” Jon asked.

“E-excuse me?” she said after a short pause.

“Have you... ever done this spell before?” he repeated himself. Celestia couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“... No... no I have not,” she answered.

“Then... then how do you know it won’t work?” he challenged.

“Jon,” she sighed in a disappointed tone.

“No I’m serious!” he continued as he took a step back like he was being hunted. “You’ve never done it so you can’t know if it won’t work now!”

Before anyone could rebuttal the sound of Trixie adjusting herself in her bed caught everyone's attention.

“Jon, please be reasonable,” Trixie offered. “The Princess is only speaking realistically here... I wouldn't want to inconvenience her majesty for somepony like me.”

The way she idly just dismissed her own well being like she wasn’t anyone important made Jon sick to his stomach. He lurched forward and covered his mouth as he slightly gagged. Ironically, instead of any of the medical ponies going to see if he was alright it was Celestia who came up to him and placed a hoof on his back.

“I think it’s time that you took a seat or--” she said before being interrupted.

“Celestia please I know you can do it!” Jon exclaimed. “You even said it yourself, the problem with all previous attempts was the person doing it wasn’t skilled enough... but they weren’t you! I bet you and Twilight here could do it with your eyes closed!”

“Jon, that’s not the point,” Celestia challenged.

“Then what is the point!?” Jon yelled as he slapped her hoof away, causing the two guards to get in between the two. “Because from where I stand you’re not even willing to entertain the notion of her having a chance.”

“Jon... I just want what’s best for her... truly I do,” she continued. “And this magic spell... is not the answer.”

“Then what is!” Jon bellowed as he began to pace back and forth while grabbing his hair like he was literally going to pull it out. “Celestia please! Please you have to do something! She shouldn't have to suffer because of me!”

“Jon, no, you can’t start thinking like that!” Twilight said. “You’re not responsible for--”

“Oh, aren’t I!” he interrupted as he looked back at Trixie, who looked away as she didn’t know what to say. In a state of panic, it looked as if he was going to rush over to her, but instead he began to hyperventilate as he struggled to stand, while looking in all directions like a rat lost in a maze. Disregarding the two armed guards, Jon bolted his way past them where he grabbed Celestia by her shoulders in desperation.

“Celestia please! I’m begging you!” Jon yelled. “You have to save Trixie, please!”

“I’m... I’m sorry,” she said, as she backed away from him. “I can’t.”

“But why!?” Jon continued to yell. “Why won’t you help her!?”

“Jon, you don’t understand!” she argued back. “This spell requires a great deal of power, concentration, and stamina the likes of which--”

“OH I GET IT!” Jon sneered. “Too much of an effort right! Don’t want to have to dirty up those pretty hooves over someone like Trixie!”

“That’s not what I meant,” Celestia said, slightly hurt by Jon’s banter.

“NO! No, I get it now. You won’t do it because Trixie isn’t worth it to you, huh!” he continued. “You don’t think Trixie’s worth trying to save do you!? You know no one here in this world ever gave a damn about her! That’s why she came to me, but I never thought you’d be the same! I bet if she was someone more important you’d do it.”

Keeping her composure, Celestia just stood and took his anger in full, without showing any signs of hostility. Which is more than could be said for her assistant.

“Jon! How could you say that!?” Twilight said in a hostile voice. “You have no right to be saying such... Princess Celestia would never act in such a way! She--

“Twilight! You of all people have no right to be talking here!” Jon yelled as he pointed a finger at her. “Why I bet if it was YOU in that bed instead of Trixie she’d do the operation spell! Hell! If you were the one sick I bet she’d pull all her resources and just find a cure in one afternoon!”

“That is not true!” Twilight challenged. “She loves and cares for her subjects equally and would never play favorites... right Princess?”

Since her arrival into Trixie’s room Celestia had been put on the spot multiple times, and every time she knew exactly what to say, that is, until now. For the first time Celestia was rendered silent, unable to give an honest answer. All eyes were on her but with a heavy heart she turned away to avoid facing them.

“P-princess?” Twilight asked, shocked at her misplaced judgement. Celestia’s mouth opened but when she locked eyes with Jon she didn't say anything. She had given her answer.

“Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” Jon sneered. “I fucking knew it.”

Turning around, Jon rushed to Trixie’s side where he got down on his knees to match eye level with her.

“Trixie, don’t you worry, I’ll find a way to help you!” he said, before giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t worry baby girl, I’ll save you somehow! I promise.”

“J-Jon?” Trixie said as he got up and rushed to the door, accidently knocking over the nurse in the process. “JON! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?”

“I’m going to find someone other than myself who actually gives a damn!” he called back.

“Wait Jon!” Twilight called out as he made his way for the door. “You don’t need--”

She was cut off by Celestia placing her hoof on her shoulder in an attempt to keep her from interacting with him, like a dog on a leash.

“Twilight, don’t,” she said. “It’s best we leave him alone for now.” Unsure if that was the right decision Twilight nevertheless obeyed. It was at this point that Jon stopped at the doorway and turned to face those who were still left in the room.

“Don’t worry Trixie! I’ll make everything better!” he called out in her direction. “If these incompetent ponies won’t perform the operation on you then I’ll... I’ll... I’ll find a doctor who will!”

Guardian angel

The sound of footsteps or idle banter echoing through the hallways of sovereign buildings had a tendency to carry far and last long. This was partially because of how, like most structures in Equestria, they were built to have high up ceilings to make room for flying Pegasi. This also meant that ponies who worked in such environments would adapt to such distractions and learn to tune out any noise that echoed for very long.

A prime example of this would be the employees who worked in the Castle. Because of its structural design, someone could be whispering on one end of the room and be heard quite clearly on the other side. In addition, since the Castle was the capital of Canterlot, and indeed all of Equestria, there was never a dull moment, with at any given time an important meeting going on or ponies rushing to requisition something.

It goes without saying that if you wanted to work within the Castle walls you needed to be laser focused and not easily drawn away from your work, though even the nurses and doctors of Canterlot Castle Hospital found it hard to ignore the sound and sight of Jon Stewart thundering down hallway after hallway, trying to find an exit.

His ability to remember directional layouts served him well, even with his vision distorted by tears as he backtracked his way through the hospital. Some staffers had to leap out of the way for fear of being trampled over, which prompted others to call out to him to not run indoors, but he didn’t care.

The further he ventured the more he saw doctors and nurses of all shapes and colors, and wondered why they weren’t all breathlessly working to find a cure for his friend Trixie; after all... because of her their world still existed in peace rather than at the control of Queen Chrysalis. The more he thought about it, the more he concluded that he really was the only person who had her best interest in mind. Back when he met her he always thought she was being hyperbolic when she confided that back home no one cared about her, but now he saw just how right she was.

Head after head turned at the booming sound of Jon’s considerably heavy (by pony standards at least) weight slamming on the ground, as he continued his full on sprint down a cluttered hallway before turning and running down a vacant one. After a while he began to notice that the calming colors of the walls were giving way to more vibrant hues as the wild and spastic designs began to reappear. This told Jon that he was heading in the right direction, which was the waiting room he had previously occupied.

Even without the tell tale signs he would have remembered given his keen sense of direction that came with the territory of living in a city like New York. Soon he saw some familiar landmarks and rooms that he remembered seeing when he was first escorted to the room.

Fueled by memory alone, Jon rounded a corner and burst forth into the base of the hospital, almost knocking over an orderly in the process, where he was momentarily blinded by its increased brightness, which was mostly due to the natural sunlight from the windows.

Again his towering presence and sudden appearance earned him the attention of ponies coming and going, each of them wondering what was going on and if it was something that they need to concern themselves with. There were actually some fans of The Daily Show camped in the area, hoping to get to talk to him when he returned on the assumption that he’d be willing to converse after his visit with whoever he was seeing, but when they saw how distraught he was they collectively decided to continue leaving him alone.

Jogging in place, Jon quickly scanned the area for the exit whereupon he sprinted forth in the most direct route which was through a cluster of ponies sitting in chairs waiting to be called, and a line to the nearby gift shop. Ignoring everything around him, he ran as fast as his elderly legs could take him, with the last thing to catch his attention being the sound of the pony working the front desk calling out to him.

“Have a nice day,” she said with the same level of enthusiasm as she did anyone who left the front door; Jon didn’t return her gesture.

The hospital itself was located fairly close to base of the Castle, with Jon finding his way outside in less than a few seconds. The castle was surrounded by a moat, which was something Jon always found comical in a cliche sort of way, but there was no levity to be had now as he made his exit.

The Castle’s front door policy was always in effect around this time, sparring Jon the possible scenario of explaining where he was going to the front guards, though his being a celebrity and in a well known business relationship with Celestia pretty much gave him a free pass anyway.

At any given time there were at least four to six guards standing at the front gate who check everyone who came and went. This time however there were only two, each of whom were shocked to see Jon run past them, galloping across the Castle’s front entrance and across the moat where he stopped and fell to one knee like he was about to collapse from exhaustion. It looked as if he was about to fall into the water, which he almost did, but thankfully avoided when he reached out and grabbed the metal chain of the draw bridge for balance.

The two guards noticed this and adjusted their armor as they slowly approached him, his advanced age and semi-poor health were well documented among Castle staff at the behest of Celestia, who wanted to make sure he always had a pleasant visit. But when the two spear wielding guards got within earshot of him Jon let out a roar of anger so loud and atrocious that the guards drew their weapons by instinct.

It was only shortly thereafter when Jon lifted his arm to slam his fist on the ground in apparent anger did the two guards understand what was going on. Realizing that the best thing for him would be to leave him alone, the two guards turned around to walk back to their post, getting back to their positions just in time to see their human guest crawl a couple feet forward like a wounded animal before sitting down and leaning his back against one of the chest high stone structures that marked the drawbridge’s limit.

Again the two guards felt compelled to see if he was okay, but with no one coming or going at the moment they saw no harm in letting him stay there. This unseen gesture of theirs would have been greatly appreciated by Jon had he noticed it, but his mind was too busy processing too much unwanted information at once. He felt like he was in a nightmare, a nightmare he thought he would never have to come face to face with.

“Oh God,” Jon thought as he wiped tears away from his eyes, staring upwards and stretching out his palm to block the incoming light of the sun. “What am I going to do?”

For the first time since the reveal Jon had a quiet moment all to himself to think, though there was, at any given time, only one thing on his mind. But nevertheless as he thought of what was said, what had happened, and what will or will not happen; it was almost too much for him to comprehend.

Jon was feeling a full range of emotions, one of which was a searing twang of guilt as a gentle breeze of air wafted across his face. In hindsight he regretted how he handled the situation. He especially felt bad about how he verbally assaulted two of his dearest friends here in Equestria and how he accused them all of being terrible people. Were it not for his body, which was physically and emotionally drained, begging him to stay put and catch his breathe he would have walked back up to apologize for his behavior and maybe try again at convincing them to see things his way; but he knew that last idea was a waste of time.

He definitely said some things back there that he didn’t mean and only said in the heat of the moment. But one thing he did say which he still had every intention of backing up was his promise to Trixie about how he would save her, somehow. And it was this promise which gave Jon the biggest sense of dread.

“What... what am I going to do!?” Jon repeated out loud, again slamming his still aching fist on the ground.

If there was one thing that Jon took away from that dreadful meeting it was that at present his only option for saving Trixie was getting someone to perform the spell revealed to him by Twilight, a spell so complicated that it would take only the brightest and most developed Unicorn minds to pull it off... two of which he left behind after yelling at them with insulting accusations. Jon’s plan was not off to a good start.

But at the same time he knew that those two, powerful though they may be, weren’t the only heavy hitters of the Pony world. There were those out there with just as much power, if not more, and Jon was determined to take as long as it took to find and convince them to help. The only problem was Jon only had a few weeks before Trixie would pass away and he had no idea where to even begin looking.

Laying his head all the way back, Jon lowered his hands and closed his eyes and let the breeze blow over him and the sun shine on his face. He was starting to get his second wind but even so he still felt weak. He thought about how big this world was and how it would probably take him days to find those, whom he didn’t even know of, who were were willing and able to help him. The thought alone made him feel small and weak by comparison.

He thought about how he was supposed to be home by now, about how he had a family to look after, a show to conduct, and a life completely separate to everything going on here that he needed to manage. It was during this self reflection that Jon came to the conclusion that he was only one man... a man in a world he barely knew trying to solve a problem he knew very little about and was deemed impossible by the god of said world. Again, he felt small by comparison.

With his chest slowly expanding and contracting, Jon laid silent and began to think, think about how Trixie accepted her fate and that perhaps he should follow suite.

“What can I do?” Jon thought. “I’m only one person.”

As if he himself were the one dying his body went limp as he felt like he was fading away, with his mind slowly losing, slipping into a dark haze of nothingness.

“Maybe I should just give up,” his thoughts continued.

Although he wasn’t literally dying he felt as if he was, especially since his life was now flashing before his eyes. Only instead of his entire life it was the life he shared with Trixie, from the day she barged her way into his home and onwards. Of course this meant he was reminded of how she was now in a predicament where she was destined to die as well as the events that ultimately led to her being where she was now. This made Jon jolt forward violently.

“NO!” Jon roared, scaring the two stationary guards. “I’ll make this right!” It was at that moment that Jon didn’t care how impossible it seemed or how much time he would have to spend in this strange world, he vowed to himself then and there that he would not leave Equestria till he knew his friend would be cured of her terrible disease.

Leaning back on his stone divider, Jon closed his eyes once again and began to think. He thought about where to go from here and how he would go about finding someone with the skills necessary to pull off such a feat. He had ideas but that’s all they were, ideas. He hadn’t yet come up with a foolproof plan, at this point all he could do was speculate. He didn’t want to begin his quest to save his friend without first knowing exactly what needed to be done next.

Despite his background, Jon wasn’t much of a religious man, but desperate times did indeed call for desperate measures. So at that moment he prayed... silently and earnestly he prayed. He prayed for guidance in this matter, hoping that some unseen force he only briefly believed to be real would send down a guardian to assist him.

Realistically he didn’t expect anything to come of this, but the thought that perhaps there was someone out there looking down on him helped lessen the strain that was bounding him down... which is why he would be surprised to find that his guardian angel had, at the moment, arrived and was hovering just above his head. His prayers were answered.

A Chance meeting

The wind blowing against his face was no longer that of the nature’s natural flow but from the wings of a lone figure hovering on high, looking down on Jon. At first he heard the sound of flapping wings but didn’t give it much thought, with the assumption being that it was a bird on its merry way.

But soon Jon would be awoken from his moment of silent meditation by that very same guardian angel addressing him. Slowly this lone figure opened her mouth to announce her arrival. However instead of the perfectly pitched angelic voice one would reasonably expect from a servant of the almighty, this particular angle spoke in a muffled and quazzy tone which was difficult to hear but still loud enough to get Jon to open his eyes.

“I brought you a letter!” she screamed, causing Jon to jolt in surprise whereupon he rammed the top of his head on the side of something metallic, making a loud banging noise like someone hitting the side of a shed with a frying pan.

“ARGH! Son of a bitch!” Jon yelled as he grabbed his head with both his hands, his karmic pain going up and down his spine. “Hey buddy what’s the big ide--”

The sight before him made the famous TV host stop and stare in shock and complete disregard for his own throbbing head. In his time spent in Equestria he had seen many different wonders, from Pegasi and Unicorns to Minotaurs and Dragons (all of which could talk) with magical abilities he thought impossible.

But nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently beholding, for it was the strangest thing he had seen to date. A floating mailbox, hovering just over head as if possessed by Lord Voldemort himself.

But this wasn’t any ordinary mailbox, but one with its own body. Yes the more Jon looked upon this seemingly haunted item the more he noticed some telltale signs of organic life, like the fact that it had a body, legs, tail, and the most glaringly of all a pair of wings keeping it afloat.

Body of a Pegasus and head of mailbox; Jon was starting to get a clear idea of what he was dealing with, or rather, who he was dealing with. Without even checking the Cutie Mark of this sudden individual he already concluded as to who it was, so to confirm his suspicions he tentatively reached forward to grab the lid of the mailbox, whereupon he opened it to see for himself what contents it concealed.

What he saw wasn’t a letter, as one would assume would be in a mailbox, but the head of a pony looking straight at him, her blonde mane covering most of her face. Though Jon knew what he was looking at, his suspicions were undoubtedly confirmed when he saw a pair of eyes that seemed to be looking in any direction but forward.

“Hello Mr. Stewbert!” she announced.

“... Derpy,” Jon sighed. “Fancy seeing you again so soon.”

There was always a special place in Jon’s heart for Derpy. Her childish innocence and limited understanding of what was going on around her were matched only by her loving nature and respectful disposition. However it was her simplistic nature that also made it somewhat of a chore to talk to her, where at any moment she’ll space out, or forget who she was or what she was doing. Jon loved Derpy but right now he was in no mood to be dealing with her.

“Hey, hey, hey!” she struggled to get his attention. “Guess what, guess what, guess what, guess what, guess what!”

“... What?” Jon forced himself to answer as he got up to dust himself off.

“NO! You have to guess!” Derpy demanded. Turning his head to the side Jon glanced over at the two patrolling guards to see if they would do anything about this. Both of them just responded with a weak shrug of the shoulders.

“Okay uh, let me see,” he humored her. “You brought me a le--”

“I BROUGHT YOU A LETTER!” she announced with a level of enthusiasm as if this was her first day on the job, something which (given her short term, and long term memory problem) Jon feared she might truly believe.

“Gee, you don’t say,” he added as he got up to his feet only to try and sidestep her. “Well that’s nice but I really should--”

“Wait! I didn’t give it to ya yet!” she exclaimed as she flew in front of him, blocking his path. The momentum of her brief redirection caused the door of the mailbox to slam shut over her face, transforming her once again to her previous form. “Hey?... where did you go?”

Jon’s frustration had reached its tipping point; he seriously didn’t have time for this. Thinking that perhaps he could escape, Jon formulated a plan to tip-toe around his confused friend and make a break for Canterlot City. However the thought of leaving Derpy in such a state made him feel guilty, after all she wasn’t the one who had let him down. Again, Jon felt frustrated.

“Okay, you know what!?” Jon exclaimed as he reached forward and grabbed Derpy with both hands. Quickly he tucked the wayward delivery mare under his arm like a football, and with his free arm grabbed the mailbox and in one motion yanked it off her head, messing up her already messy hair.

Letting go of her, Jon watched as both she and the letter she was carrying fell to the ground, apparently she had the mail tucked under her head.

Holding the mailbox in his hand, Jon found himself looking over at the castle, imagining where he thought Celestia would be and, out of left over anger, tossed it at one of the open Castle windows. His aim was spot on, but what he didn’t know was he had chucked the metal compartment into the nurse’s lounge, where it terminated on the head of the nurse who was previously looking after Trixie.

While this was happening a delirious (more so than usual) Derpy watched as the small piece of paper that was previously in the mailbox fluttered down and landed on her nose. Her eyes adjusted on it in rare synchronization and her brain jump started, reminding her of why she was here.

“OH THAT’S RIGHT!” she yelled, as she grabbed the letter and burst upwards like a rocket.

“GAH!” Jon screeched, surprised by Derpy’s sudden outburst. “Don’t do that!”

“Oops, my bad,” she apologized as Jon grabbed his heart. “But I’m just so excited because I just remembered that... I BROUGHT YOU A--”

Reaching forward Jon threw his palm across her face, his hand large enough that he was able to grab her head while at the same time silencing her.

“I know,” Jon grunted as he snatched the letter from her hooves. “You brought me a letter.”

“How did you know!?” Derpy earnestly asked once Jon released her. Ignoring her, Jon tore open his envelope and without looking grabbed the first thing he felt out which was indeed a letter. With a flick of his wrist he unfurled the piece of paper to reveal a row of boxes with corresponding letters and subjects. Adjusting his eyes to account for his lack of reading glasses, which he forgot he had in his pocket, he began to read the letter out loud.

“‘Social studies: B+, Math: A-, Science: C+, English: A+ PE... wait, what the hell is this?” Jon wondered out loud as he skipped the middle portion to bottom section where it had more writing. “‘Young Nathan has shown a great improvement in his math and english subjects but still continued to struggle with science and...’”

The letter went on to describe about how the school provided tutoring services for all ages and how the next parent-teacher conference was in a few weeks. Glancing upward at the logo of the school that his son went to, Jon finally reached the correct answer.

“This is... this is my son's report card,” he concluded.

“That’s right!” Derpy said. “A nice man in Ponyville told me to bring this to you! It took me a few days but I finally found ya!”

Temporarily ignoring the fact that it was Jon himself who had sent the letter, there was something more immediately pressing that had him almost speechless.

“You mean you... you actually did your job?” he asked in utter shock.

“I sure did!” she proudly announced. “I always promise to do my job the best I can! Rain or shine, snow or feet, I deliver your mail!”

“It’s ‘sleet,’” Jon corrected.

“Wah?” asked Derpy.

“The motto you’re thinking of is ‘Rain or shine, snow or sleet!’” he emphasized. “It’s sleet, not feet.”

“What are feet?” asked Derpy.

“Just... nevermind,” Jon said. Even in her confused state Derpy looked happy with herself for doing her job, which didn’t help Jon one bit.

Seeing her sheer determination made Jon feel somewhat guilty for his actions. The last time he was in Equestria he was trying to sneak into the castle but ended up going to the spa with Rarity. Along the way he met Derpy and, much like right now, tried to get rid of her by giving her an obviously fake delivery which she took just as seriously as anything else.

“Yeah... uh listen Derpy, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” Jon admitted as he placed the report card and the envelope that it came in inside his pocket. “I shouldn't have sent you on a wild goose chase like that.”

“What goose?” she asked. “I was just doing my duty as the mail mare!”

“Well all the same I shouldn't have given you that letter in the first place,” he continued.

“Oh youse just a big silly!” Derpy chuckled as she tussled Jon’s hair. “You didn’t give me the letter! That weird guy did!”

“Derpy... that weird guy was me!” Jon revealed, feeling slightly offended.

“... Wah?” she responded as if she was given a particularly difficult math problem.

“Jesus Derpy!” he exclaimed. “How do you not remember that the guy who gave you the letter is the same guy who you delivered it to!?”

“Ooooooh I get it now!” she exclaimed before tilting her head to the side again. “You must be the weird guy’s twin brother!”

“No! Derpy I... okay, how am I weird? I-I mean I... I don’t have a twin brother!” he exclaimed, his back and forth with her making him frustrated all over again. “It’s me your friend... Jon... Jon Stewart!? Come on, I know you remember me.”

“I love Jon Stewart!” she exclaimed as if she was talking about him rather than to him. “I watch that guy’s show everyday... I’ve always wanted to meet him.”

As if he lost control of his lower jaw, Jon’s mouth dropped, where it would stay for several seconds as his mind tried to compute what was happening.

“Derpy I... Derpy I am Jon Stewart!” he exclaimed. “For God sake I had you on my show once before! Don’t you remember!?”

“Um... I... I don’t know,” she guilty confessed.

“You... I mean you... how can...nevermind,” Jon sighed as he turned his head back to glimpse at the castle, then at Derpy who was rubbing her head. “Do you at least remember how you got that mailbox stuck on your head?”

“... What mailbox?” Derpy asked.

Feeling like he had lost an impossible battle, Jon stood and marveled at the advanced level of ignorance from this one individual. Taking advantage of this momentary bout of silence, Jon quickly inhaled and with deep breath threw his hands in the air as if to say “I give up” and then proceeded to walk forward down the path that lead towards Canterlot City.

The road that lead from Canterlot Castle to Canterlot proper was a long stretch of scenery that was purposely left mostly untouched, aside from the cobblestone road and occasional bench. Being the only path leading into Canterlot, with its abundance of fields which eventually dipped into the lower section of the area, as well as the castle itself being built on the side of a mountain, the whole stretch of land would give Canterlot a strategic advantage should it be caught in a war, but nowadays is recognized only for its mosaic nature. There weren’t many trees on the road to Canterlot City, which gave Jon a good view of the surrounding fields, and he could guess where their parameters lie.

This was rather therapeutic for Jon since the scenery was luscious enough to somewhat calm his still trembling mind. However there was now another factor eating at him, and that was although Jon was done talking with Derpy, she wasn’t yet done talking with him.

“Where ya going?” she asked with an innocent smile as she hovered just overhead.

“Heading into town,” he answered as he increased his speed.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I need to find someone who can help me,” he answered once more.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because my friend is in trouble,” he answered, now getting annoyed.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because she’s sick,” he gritted.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because mind your own business that’s why,” Jon barked in her direction. Given what he’d been through today, Jon wouldn't usually have felt guilty about snapping at Derpy, but the look she gave in response sent a jolt of regret right through his heart. To Jon she was the essence of innocence, so when she scrunched her nose and lowered her head with a face like she was about to cry it made him feel horrible inside, sick even.

“A-are you mad at me?” she sniffed, which only made Jon feel worse.

“N-no, no, no, no, no I’m not, Derpy,” Jon confessed as he stopped to face her with a saddened expression of his own. “It's been a rough day and I’m just... I’m just really sad right now.”

As if their brief altercation never happened, Derpy immediately perked up and patted Jon on the head.

“Well then I have just the thing for you!” she proudly announced as she buried her head into her mailbag, littering the ground with several sealed letters in the process.

Eventually she emerged with some kind of pastry half in and half out of her mouth. Jon recognized this culinary treat all too well.

“Hearf ew pho!” she mumbled before plopping a saliva spattered muffin into Jon’s hands. “This will cheer you up. It’s the last one I have and I was going to eat it for lunch... but you can have it.”

As unappetizing as it looked, with half of it dented from her teeth, Jon was still greatly moved by her simple gesture. It was touching because although to him it was just a plain looking snack he knew that to Derpy it meant so much more.

“Thanks Derpy,” Jon smiled as he continued to walk down the path with muffin in hand. “I’ll uh... I’ll eat it later.”

“Oh, oh, oh, maybe you can give a muffin to your sick friend,” she offered. “I bet that would make her happy.”

“I don’t think that’s going to help her much. Her illness is something that... well, requires a more technical approach,” Jon countered as Derpy flew in closer. “Muffins aren’t the answer to everything my young Padawan... someday you’ll realize this.”

As the two passed by a tree which momentarily gave them some shade, Derpy sported a look on her face like Jon was talking crazy.

“But muffins make everything better!” she argued. “Mama said so herself.”

Jon momentarily recalled how Derpy’s mother was the one who originally got her obsessed with the culinary treat. He remembered how during the interview she explained that whenever she was picked on for being different her mom would whip up a batch to cheer her up.

“Ah yes, that’s right,” Jon commented, determined to carry the conversation further as a distraction. “But tell me Derpy... have you ever been so sad that even muffins didn’t help?”

This was actually a question he wanted to ask her during their first encounter, when he had her on the show for an interview. At the time he didn’t ask it because he felt it might be too sad a topic to delve into on only his second interview with an Equestrian citizen.

As he predicted back then, the question itself proved to be so powerful that it caused Derpy to stop in her tracks. Realizing that he was no longer being followed, Jon turned to find her just floating in place, stationary in the air as she began to think carefully for an answer.

“Um... well... sometimes,” she guilty answered. “Sometimes when I’m really, really, really, really, really sad I don’t feel like making any muffins.”

“I see,” he commented as he motioned for her to continue down the road. “Might I ask what you do to cheer yourself up if such a scenario occurs?”

Without Jon noticing, Derpy’s frown turned upside down, and it wasn’t because she was flying at a weird angle. She knew the answer to Jon’s question, the mere thought of which placed a bright smile on her face.

“That’s an easy one!” she giggled, as her face turned a shade of red. “Whenever I’m sad, and muffins won’t help, I just talk to the bestest, kindest, most huggable, sweetest pony to ever live.”

“Who, Applejack?” he jokingly asked.

“No you silly filly!” she chuckled. “I’m talking about my husband... Mr. Whooves.”

This was definitely a side of her that Jon hadn’t seen before, he wanted to see more of it, too.

“Oh you’re married huh? Well, join the club,” Jon commented as he flashed his wedding band.

“What the!? I didn’t know there was a club!” she exclaimed and Jon continued to flex his fingers in the air to show off his proof of marriage.

“There sure is, we get together every Thursday to come up with new and inventive ways to annoy single people,” Jon chuckled. “You know it’s funny... I always pictured you as the single mother type.”

“Nope! Me and my husband raise Dinky together!” she replied.

“What’s he like?” Jon asked.

“Oh, he’s the bestest ever!” Derpy roared as she tried to hide her still blushing face. “He’s always nice to me and he always makes sure Dinky goes to bed on time if I’m out late. He knows just the right way to rub my head to make it feel good and, and, and, this one time he made my favorite breakfast ‘cause it was my birthday.”

“Wow... he sounds like a real upstanding kind of guy,” Jon commented. “Seems like you bagged yourself a real keeper.”

“I sure did! He’s my favorite pony ever!” she squealed as she did a quick loop in the air. “I love him sooooo much! I’m so lucky to be married to someone like him! He's the best pony, husband, father, doctor and friend a girl could ever--”

This time it was Jon who stopped walking midway, only he didn’t stay still for long. Quickly he turned around to face his floating friend with a face like he’d seen a ghost.

“WAIT WHAT!?” Jon roared, interrupting Derpy and startling her so suddenly she forgot how to fly. “'Doctor!?"' Did you say... y-you’re married to a doctor!?”

“I am?” Derpy commented, still stunned from Jon’s outburst. Familiar with how her mind worked (something which terrified him) Jon immediately ran up to Derpy and grabbed her head with both hands and drew her in close.

“Derpy... look at me... look at me... now with both eyes,” Jon demanded, his request being met head on by his feathered friend now looking into his eyes. “Good... now then, I want you to listen very, very carefully. This husband of yours... what kind of doctor is he?”

“He’s the best kind!” she answered. “He can do anything! This one time I was real sick and he made me feel all better.”

“Okay, okay so he deals with medicine then!?” Jon continued. “So he’s like an psychian?”

“Um... I think so,” Derpy answered, her understanding of the subject spotty at best.

“Okay... now try to answer this next question as best as you can,” he continued. “Can your husband perform or at least know anyone that can perform an Entropy spell? I’m looking... for someone who knows how deal with Clausus syndrome... can your husband help me with that!?”

With excitement Derpy began to flap her wings, though since Jon still had a firm hold on her head all she managed to do was raise her body a few inches upwards.

“Well sure he could!” Derpy assumed. “My husband can do anything!”

Ordinary Jon would have been highly skeptical of Derpy’s claims, as far as he knew she didn’t have a husband, let alone one that could specifically help him. Her claims seemed too good to be true but Jon was so desperate for help that he blindly took her answer at face value.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed with joy as he threw his hands in the air, momentarily sending Derpy floating away. “Okay Derpy, I need you to do me a big favor! I need you to get your husband and tell him that I want to meet with him. I need to set an appointment with him... do you think you can do that for me?”

“Weeeell... I don’t know,” she responded as she rubbed the back of her head. “I still have to deliver a whole heap of mail and Ponyville isn’t on my route just yet.”

Tilting his head to the side, Jon was confused to see her responsibility for her work at a time like this, since she had been slowly leaving a trail of abandoned letters like Hansel and Gretel leaving bread crumbs to get back home.

“Tell ya what,” he said as he raised his hand with the muffin that she herself had given to him. “You set up a meeting between me and your husband and I’ll give you this muffin, right here, right now.”

Strolling through the verdant scenery with the innocent Derpy had mellowed out Jon somewhat. He was still anxiety ridden and upset with Celestia, but his mind was clear enough to break through Derpy’s web of logic. His plan worked.

“DEAL!” Derpy roared as she snatched the muffin from his hand and plopped it in her bag. “Oh yummers! Now I have two muffins for lunch!”

Shaking his head, Jon rubbed his hands together to get rid of the combination of drool and crumbs left behind by his once acquired soggy treat.

“Alright, so what’s the best way to meet up with Mr. Whooves,” Jon asked. “Should I just follow you to your place or what?”

“Nope! I need to go talk with him first! He doesn’t really like guests coming over,” she explained. “Oh! I know, I’ll tell him to meet you at his favorite restaurant! It’s this place near our house.”

“That’ll work, I could use a bite to eat actually,” he admitted. “What’s this joint called?”

“Uuuum... I forget,” she said.

“Of course you have,” Jon commented.

“Don’t worry, it’s really easy to find!” she explained. “It’s the one with the red roof and white fence out front.”

“Alright, I’ll find it. Well I think we all have our homework assignments for the day!” Jon said before clasping his hands. “You go get your husband and I’ll meet him at that restaurant. Okay, break!”

“Break what?” Derpy asked.

Ignoring her, Jon continued down the path to Canterlot, only now he knew exactly where to go. He would go to the lower end of the city to catch a tram ride all the way down to Ponyville. From there he would be one location away from getting what he needed.

As he went over in his head his pitch for when he finally met with Derpy’s doctor husband, he was cut off by Derpy herself flying in front of him, blocking off his path.

“Uh, Derpy... I don’t want to sound rude but... shouldn't you be off getting your husband right now?” he asked.

“Don’t worry I will,” she assured him. “It’s just... before I go... can I... can I have your autograph!?”

At this point Jon was willing to part with anything if it meant he would be one step closer to saving his friend. So to him a quick signature was both simple and to this day still oddly flattering.

“Yeah sure,” he agreed as he reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a sharpie.

“YAY!” she chirped, as she did a quick backflip to show off her excitement.

“Do you have a piece of paper?” he asked though he didn’t get a response with Derpy still fidgeting with giddy anticipation. Jon waited for her to produce something worthy enough for him to scribble over, with him convinced that she would use someone’s letter as stationary.

With arm stretched out ready to sign, Jon watched as Derpy just flew in place, too exciting about her soon to be acquired autograph to actually produce something to write on. Jon considered himself to be a patient man but even he had his limits, so to get things back on track he quickly signed his name across Derpy’s forehead.

“There ya go!” He placed his pen back in his coat. “Now will you get your hubby?”

“You bet I will!” she exclaimed as she rocketed off to her left, leaving a trail of envelopes in her wake. She flew off so fast Jon barely had time to follow her movement, but he did hear a loud noise like someone crashing into a hedge bush. Following the trail of sealed letters on the ground, Jon saw that Derpy had blindly flown into the side of a tree, her head now stuck in its trunk.

“Well, that solves the mystery of the mailbox,” Jon said as he walked up to the tree to lean on it, turning his attention now on the still stuck Pegasus. “Need any help, Derpy?”

Although she did respond he could not make out what she was saying.

“Okay, here comes Mr. Muscle,” he said as he effortlessly pulled Derpy from her branchy prison.

“Thanks!” she chimed with embarrassment as she stuck out her tongue out. “It was dark in there.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jon said.

Walking a few feet forward to the edge of the cliff, Jon lifted Derpy in the air Lion King style to show her the scenery before them, which contained Ponyville several miles below.

“See that Derpy?” he asked. “What’s that town called?”

“That’s Ponyville!” she answered.

“Good job!” he complimented. “And what are you going to do once you get there?”

“Imma get my husband and uh,” she stammered, trying to remember. “OH RIGHT! I’m gonna tell him to meet you at his favorite restaurant.”

“Correct!” Jon said, arching his back to get some momentum. “Now then... GET TO IT!”

Using all his strength, Jon threw Derpy forward where she fell a few feet, thus earning him the right to cross “tossing a pony off the side of a cliff” off his bucket list.

“Weeeeeeeeee!” Derpy exclaimed before expanding her wings and launching herself skyward, then back down at an arch.

Jon watched as she dive bombed downwards to a segment of land just below the castle. Because of how high up he was on the mountain, he had to squint his eyes to see where she was heading.

He knew she’d come through for him but he’d have more faith in her if it wasn’t for the fact that she was heading in the wrong direction, with Ponyville being at least a mile away from where she had landed.

“Wow,” Jon sighed as he made his way back to the main road. “I hope her husband isn’t as... naive as she is.”

Asking for directions

From what Jon understood, the main problem one usually faces when living in a residential area not of the city, but rather suburban, is a tendency to get lost in the sameness of it all. Structurally speaking, neighborhoods that weren’t in the city or countryside tended to all look the same, with rows of neighborhood being the same design repeated over and over again.

Housing projects like these, though expected in certain middle class areas, were not common in major metropolitans; New York especially. Jon’s ability to memorize the layout of his beloved city was not just because of his memory (which wasn’t even that good) but because at any given time you’re in a section of The Big Apple that is completely its own.

A street corner in Tribeca is a hell of a lot different than one in SoHo, making it fairly easy to determine where everything is.

Ironically Ponyville, as with every location in Equestria, was completely unique in its own respects to the point where everything just felt the same to Jon. Oh sure, some cities in Equestria were different in that they were located on a mountain, near the ocean, or in the sky, but once inside things tended to get a bit confusing.

Jon’s numerous trips to Ponyville had made it so he had a handle on the street layouts, but individual buildings were a hurdle he still hadn’t conquered. Everything here was completely different than what he was used to back home, making it all the same in that it was all different.

For starters, each house was uniquely made which visually made it look like a jumbled mess. With no patterns to go by it’s easy to get confused and mistake one oblong shaped house for another. In addition, there was also a problem on Jon’s part of only knowing what a building's main purpose was after venturing inside it, because you know... seen one cartoonish looking residence, seen them all.

Luckily for him however, he had some clues to go on. He still had no idea what this restaurant was called or where it was located, but he had some leads; look for the building surrounded by a white picket fence which has a red roof. He also knew it was by Derpy’s house, but unless her building was in the shape of a giant muffin (a possibility which Jon was completely ready to believe) than it wasn’t going to help him.

Another thing Jon learned from his visits to Equestria was that most ponies were huge gossips, so word traveled fast. In this case the fact that Jon was here to see his best friend Trixie only to learn she was terminally ill had by this time already left Canterlot and spread through Ponyville as common knowledge. It was this reason, and this reason alone, why not a single resident bothered to approach him.

Confidently he walked down the dirt road to the heart of Ponyville, where he would make his way to the southeast side, from what he could remember that was where most eateries were. As he continued on his way he noticed that while no one came to talk to him, almost everyone was staring at him and whispering to each other. He hated how they looked at him with pity filled eyes; they both knew why he was in Equestria. For Jon it was slightly annoying, but at the same time he appreciated how they respected him enough to not get in his way, this meant he could find Derpy’s husband in peace without any distraction.

With a turn of his heels Jon was now in the center of Ponyville, where most official business took place; a wide assortment of government buildings, fountains, and pathways leading to other parts of the town laid in front of him. If this day was a major holiday this area would be packed with ponies in the middle of decorating for a festival or some such event.

From where he stood, if he stretched his neck, he could make out Twilight’s treehouse and he could easily see Carousel Boutique, but since both were in the opposite direction of where he was heading he didn’t get a chance to stop for a quick visit. Heading to his right, Jon went down an identical dirt road with some not-so-identical new buildings to look upon.

As he walked up and down this semi-busy street, he noticed that there were several businesses specializing in food, one of which he recognized as Sugercube Corner. He walked all the way down to where the road split in two, one going left and the other right; he recalled that both lead to more residential housings, so he turned back to do another look around.

Again he noticed restaurants, some of which he didn’t see the first time through, but none of them had a red roof, let alone a white fence. Sensing that he was looking for a needle in a haystack, Jon decided to try a different approach, he might not have known the restaurant's name, but he knew of a place nearby.

With every step Jon was getting closer to being back in the center of Ponyville, but before he could count himself officially lost he did the one thing that all true New Yorkers hated doing and hated seeing; he asked for directions. Right at the border between this road and the center of town a few mares could be seen gossiping among each other; about what he didn’t know or care, he just needed to ask one of them something. From his angle he could see three of them, two Unicorns and an Earth Pony, with the latter of whom having her back to Jon. Feeling as if this was as good a pony to ask as anyone, Jon leaned in, almost on one knee to get the attention of the rust colored Earthpony with fluffy yellow hair which curled up so much that it bounced when she moved.

“Excuse me,” Jon said, causing the Earth Pony to spin around in surprise.

“EEP!” she shrilled in surprise, first by his sudden introduction and then by the fact that it was Jon Stewart. Jon took a second to see if he could break the ice by mentioning her profession via her cutie mark, when he realized it was a palm tree, he decided to go a more direct route.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, but do you know where Derpy lives?” Jon asked, skipping introductions and getting straight to the point.

“Uh... y-yeah... I mean yes I do,” she stammered, looking to her friends then pointing in another direction past the town square. “She lives in a house over on south-west street.”

“Thank you very much,” he said as he got back up and made his way without saying goodbye, but instead giving a faint wave of his hand as he walked off to a symphony of hushed whispers.

A combination of late night fatigue and impatience fueled Jon to rush off to his next location so abruptly. But while his lack of proper manners was evident and ceaseless at the moment, he knew he would have to put on a better poker face for when he met up with Derpy’s husband. After all, he’d pissed off a few doctors today; and this next one was his last hope.

“Alright Jon,” he thought to himself as he rounding a corner of the town square to get to his new location. “When you meet with the guy... drop the attitude.”

Without checking his bearings to make sure he was going the right direction, Jon went down a new road opposite of the one he had just left. This new area seemed to be geared to a more residential zone but still had a few shops here and there, though most of them were kiosk-esque set-up tents, giving a feel more of a bazaar than anything else.

Again he got the same level of attention as before from ponies as he walked down the dirt road with his hands holstered in his pockets. This time Jon didn’t check to see if ponies were glaring at him because by now he already knew they were, though none of them dared approach him. Those who generally knew why he was here didn’t want to disturb him during such difficult times and those who had no idea what business he had in Equestria didn’t come near him because they could gather from his exhausted expression that he wasn’t in the mood at the moment.

At first glance, Jon didn’t see any building resembling the one described by Derpy, but he was starting to see a pattern. The shops were on one side of the street while a long stretch of pony homes were on the other. One house had a very dark red rooftop which would have given him a moment to ponder if he had found his elusive rendezvous spot, but said house was on the side of the street that carried the housing structures, so it couldn't have been.

The road he was currently on eventually spilled into a trail that led to a grassland area and then into the hills and forests of Ponyville’s outer border, rather than another part of the city. Thinking that maybe he took a wrong turn, Jon slowly made his way to a nearby mare who was stationed at some kind of makeshift shop where she sold some fabrics. The mare herself noticed Jon coming her away and stood up in her seat in preparation for anything he might say.

Moments away from asking his question Jon’s mouth opened as he took a breath so he could ask his question in one long take. The pony minding the stand watched as Jon, instead of talking, exhaled without making eye contact, like he was momentarily distracted... because he was.

Before he could ask for directions again, Jon’s eyes caught a glimpse of something toward the end of the street; a red roof. And not just a red roof but one with a white picket fence out front.

“Um... hello?” the pony working the counter asked. “D-did... did you need help with someth--”

If there was any pony in the area who didn’t notice Jon’s presence before they certainly did now. Without warning Jon bolted as fast he could towards his hopefully desired location, leaving the would be helpful mare baffled by his antics. Weaving past groups of Earth Ponies here and Unicorns there, Jon wasted no time in scouting this building in the hopes that he could finally stop searching.

Out of courtesy, most ponies in his way moved aside to make a path for him and didn’t follow, though his effort to get to this location did pique their curiosity.

Eventually he made it, he was now standing just outside of a white fence that surrounded a building with a red roof. Near the entrance was a small sign which had some fresh scribbles on it describing the afternoon special which was some kind of tomato soup. As well as daily specials the sign out front also had the name “Corner Street Eatery” in slanted letters, cementing that this was definitely the right place.

However, despite this building’s blazingly obvious status as the place Derpy wanted Jon to go to, he was too busy marveling at something she failed to mention. His attention was not on the red roof, white fence, or the sign out front giving away the location. No, what he actually noticed, now that he was up close, was the fact that the front yard of this restaurant had giant mushrooms littered everywhere. Not fake lawn ornaments, or structures made to look like mushrooms, but genuine giant mushrooms growing out of the ground. Some smaller than others, but all of them a few feet tall.

Jon had been in Equestria long enough that seeing this didn’t surprise him. The reason he was in disbelief was because in her description of this elusive restaurant this was completely omitted.

“Mushrooms... giant mushroom!” Jon sighed to himself as he slapped the palm of his hand to his forehead. “Wow Derpy... way to bury the lede.”

Table for two

Life in Ponyville was not what one would describe as “never ending.” It didn’t quite have the hustle and bustle of cities like Canterlot, Manehatten, or Balitmare. But its striving economy was one that was very self sustainable, and as such everyone had a role to play and something that needed doing. All except for Jon Stewart, who stood in front of the Corner Street Eatery silent and unmoving, no longer marveling at the many mushroom extremities, but now looking to see if his contact, Derpy’s doctor husband, was even here.

This was easy to answer; no he was not. It was easy to notice early on when dealing with all that Equestria had to offer, that the amount of males to females was about 1-5. As well as their being no pony occupying the designated restaurant, Jon saw no male ponies in the general area, let alone anyone who even looked like a doctor. So unless Derpy couldn't tell genders apart, Jon was the first to arrive to the meeting.

Eventually Jon did see a male pony make himself present, but he didn’t get his hopes up for, again, this was clearly no doctor. Emerging from inside the restaurant's main building, an older looking stallion began to make his way up to Jon. From far away his coat looked white and his mane black, but once he got closer he realized that he was in fact a very light color grey and his unkempt mane a dark purple; though his facial hair (a skinny mustache and goatee) were pale white.

Over his shoulder was a black apron which contained numerous pens, a pad to write on, and some drinking straws, from this Jon gathered he was a waiter. Slowly he walked up to the fence separating himself and Jon and placed his front legs on the top as a boost to better get on level with Jon, who felt as if he was at a petting zoo and the waiter was a begging animal.

“Can I help you with something, sir?” he asked. “You’ve been standing outside my establishment for quite some time.” If Jon had to place his accent, he would guess a slight mid-western tone.

“Uh, yeah I’m... I’m actually supposed to meet someone here,” Jon answered as he strained his neck to try and get a good view of the restaurant to see if anyone was inside. “Don’t suppose anyone else is here, huh?”

“I’m afraid not, sir,” he revealed. “We’re not open yet, I’ve just been busy getting things ready.”

“I see... OH! And uh, my name is Jon Stewart,” he said with an extension of his arm for a greeting. “I’ll be dining here later this afternoon.”

“Ah, I thought you looked familiar... you’re that human fellow that’s on television,” the waiter replied as he shook his hand. “The name’s Coatcheck and this is my restaurant... but like I said we’re not open yet.”

“Oh, well then, sorry to disturb you,” Jon said as he slowly backed away. “I’ll kill some time and come back la--”

“But you know,” Coatcheck interrupted before he could venture far. “If you want you can come in now... I won’t be able to get to you for a little bit but at least you’ll have a place to sit down.”

“That would actually be great!” Jon said to the helpful Earthpony who was now opening the front gate for him. “I could use a rest after today so genuinely thank you!”

“Not a problem, you just take a load off while I get things ready,” Coatcheck replied as Jon walked past the front gate.

“Now you wouldn't be doing this because of who I am, now would you?” Jon teased.

“Eeeeeeeh, I just want to make sure you get the best seat in the house.” He winked. “Now then... how many did you say would be joining you again?”

“Just one other person-- er, pony,” Jon answered as he stood in front of the entrance to the building. “You might know him... his name is Dr. Whooves, lives nearby with his wife Derpy.”

“Oh you mean ‘Time Turner.’ Of course I know ‘em,” Coatcheck chuckled. “He and his wife come in to eat every other day... cute couple those two.”

“‘Time turner?’” Jon asked.

“That’s right. He’s the Ponyville timekeeper,” Coatcheck explained. “Though I’ve never heard anypony refer to him as a doctor... but it wouldn't surprise me, that young lad is quite the intellectual.”

“Hm... I see. Well while I’m inside if you see him can you let him know I’m already here?” Jon asked as he preemptively ducked to get under the door to the restaurant. Grabbing the handle, he tried to open the door to the building only to realize it was still locked.

“That won’t be necessary,” Coatcheck advised.

“Uh... what isn’t?” Jon asked, taking stock of his situation. “Letting Whooves know that I’m here or me opening this door?”

“Both actually. When Time Turner comes he’ll see you right away... also that’s not the restaurant, that’s my home,” Coatcheck revealed. “It’s where I keep my supplies... employees only.”

Backing away from the house with the red roof, Jon realized that it was indeed far too small to be a restaurant, even by pony standards.

“Wait... if this isn’t the restaurant... then where do customers eat your food?” Jon asked.

“Why, right out here!” Coatcheck motioned his hoof in a sweeping gesture. “My joint is an outdoor restaurant.”

“Hold on, what... how does that work out?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief as he pointed to one of the nearby giant mushrooms. “Your front lawn is littered with these... these things! How is a guy supposed to... oh... OH... oh you have got to be kidding me.”

A smile found its way onto the Earthpony’s face as he demonstrated its usage by sitting at one of the smaller ones like a chair and placing his elbows on the bigger mushroom in front of him.

“I’m guessing you don’t have these where you’re from?” he asked, smiling.

The thought that they were tables never once even crossed Jon’s mind, but as he looked on at the fungi being sturdy enough to support the pony’s weight he realized that it was indeed their intended usage. Suddenly everything made sense to him and he now looked at Coatcheck’s establishment with fresh eyes, not as a restaurant with some oddly chosen decoration but as an outdoor dining establishment.

Hopping down from his fungal seat, Coatcheck saw Jon trying to make sense of something in his head.

“Wait, wait wait... so you’re telling me... you’re telling me that THESE mushrooms are the tables!?” he guessed with a nervous smile, getting a nod and smirk in return. “I just... I just can’t believe that you... I mean how... I-- you know what? Nevermind. I’ll just uh... I’ll just find a seat... over... over there.”

Coatcheck watched as Jon made his way to a corner mushroom that was up against the fence and under the lip of the roof which provided some shade, muttering to himself along the way.

“Seriously Derpy?” Jon chuckled to himself. “Of all the... ‘giant mushroom tables,’ that’s all you had to say... was ‘giant mushroom tables,’... that’s all you had to say...”

Before returning to his house, where he would get his supplies ready, Coatcheck caught Jon sitting at his mushroom which, despite its larger than average size, was still a bit small for him. Moving in odd angles to try and find a spot most comfortable to him, as this was his first time sitting in such conditions, his increased size made him lean awkwardly like he was about to fall.

“Hey Mr. Stewart!” Coatcheck called out, getting the human’s attention. “If you’re uncomfortable I can get you a cauliflower pillow.”

Rather than agreeing or disagreeing to his offer, Jon’s mouth just dropped as if he was moments away from taking a bite of his table. The look in his eyes was that of complete shock, with a hint of naivety in that he actually believed him.

“Are... are you serious?” Jon asked as Coatcheck unlocked his front door.

“No,” he answered as he made his way back inside. “That... was a joke.” He passed through the front door just in time to hear his future customer burst out laughing.

A long day in Ponyville

Famous people have a tendency of sitting in strategically specific places when they go out to eat at a restaurant. Usually close to the door to escape mobbing fans more easily, or in a dark corner to try and hide. And Jon Stewart was no exception, despite his not being recognized very often back home.

But as well as being a Celebrity Jon was also a parent, and he found the principles of finding specific locations to sit while out dining were the same. Back when his two kids were just babies he found himself looking for that dark corner or seat near an exit. The idea was if his children ever acted up or started crying he either had the benefit of being away from the other patrons so they didn’t hear the commotion or was close to the door so he could briefly exit until they calmed down.

For this outing Jon went for the classic waiting in the corner technique. Usually a human in Ponyville sitting atop a giant mushroom would be grounds to draw a few eyes, but Jon cleverly set himself up so virtually no one could see him.

Without even thinking about it at first, Jon had subconsciously sat himself in the very corner of the restaurant where the outside of the house and the fence surrounding it met. This gave him the added bonus of having the outer building’s surface as a resting spot for his back and the roof as shade.

But the real form of concealment came from who was standing on the other side of the fence. Jon always thought of Ponyville as a sort of rural place, which was a nicer way of saying it was a hole in the wall. Similar to the small towns one sees on the sides of major highways when passing through some of the midwestern states like Kansas, while ones like Canterlot were more representative of New York.

That isn’t to say he thought Ponyville was comprised of uneducated hillbillies or backwards simpletons, he just had the impression that it was a town mostly associated with the simple life. However as he sat at the Corner Street Eatery his impression of Ponyville being a hick town had been confirmed and now cemented within his mind. For standing on the other side of the fence, less than an arm length away, was an honest to God cow, a cow who sought fit to stand where it did eating some grass and providing Jon with some future shade for when the sun changed positions.

Ordinarily Jon would have some qualms about his new friend being so close, especially with the day he’s had, but at this point he had mellowed out somewhat since his visit to the castle and was much more inviting of the large mammal.

Taking out his phone to see what time it was, Jon sat back in his not so roomy chair to rest his back on the side of the building. He had a lot to think about and arriving at the rondezvous site in an early fashion meant that he had time to dwell on each subject. But if there was one thing that ate at him most it was what he would do once his contact finally arrived.

“Alright Jon... you can do this,” he thought as he lightly slapped the side of his cheeks with both hands. “Game plan; when Derpy’s husband shows you sweet talk him like you did that police officer when he gave you a speeding ticket.”

Leaning back forward, Jon stuck his neck out and squinted his eyes at a pony who he saw passing by the fence in the hopes that it was Mr. Whooves. Upon further inspection, he realized that it couldn't be him, not only was this pony not male but she also an Earthpony, from what he saw back at the Castle Doctors were all Unicorns. Her Cutie Mark was a basket of flowers, not very doctor-like.

Sitting back normally in his seat, and with no description to go on, Jon just stared off into the distance at any and all ponies who passed by, none of whom noticed him silently judging them.

The next pony who came was closer to being Dr. Whooves than the last. This newcomer was the right gender, but unfortunately was a pegasus who promptly passed by and turned the street corner as he predicted. His Cutie Mark was a glove of some kind, not even latex. Soon after a group of two Unicorns and an Earthpony, each chatting among themselves, walked by, but this time Jon didn’t even strain his eyes to evaluate them since they were all too young to be married, or even have Cutie Marks.

From there Jon just ogled anyone who got near his field of vision, with no one fitting the profile he assumed for himself. At one point he even saw a pair of familiar faces walk by that he hadn’t seen in a while, in the form of Vinyl Scratch and Octavia rounding a corner and talking amongst themselves. Were this any other day, Jon would’ve said his hellos and maybe give the fancier half of that coupe a good sound teasing, but his concealment was still generally preferred.

Rather than pointlessly trying to ascertain who was Derpy’s significant other (pointless in that by the time he’d arrive it would be too late to look out for him), Jon decided to instead focus on what he’d say, offer, or request when he finally met up with him.

“Just remember Jon, this is very important... you can do this,” he reminded himself out loud. “If he can’t help you then remember to ask if he knows anyone who can... time to really kiss some flank here!”

Standing on his feet to get a better view of the horizon over his cow-shield, Jon allowed his tired eyes to linger at the sight that was Canterlot Castle way in the distance, his soul once again ablaze from the constant reminder that his best friend was dying, and his other friends did nothing about it. It made Jon feel bitter, not just because of what had happened but because he also had to consider the chance that if Mr. Whooves couldn't help him he might need to crawl back to Celestia begging for her forgiveness and possible reconsideration. Which he would gladly do if it meant his friend would live

“Remember, you're doing it for her,” Jon reminded himself as he sat back down. “You’re doing it for her.”

With his back leaning once again on the house, Jon found himself in a position that if he was wearing a stetson he would pull it over his eyes and go to sleep. The sound of the cow munching away at the patches of grass beneath her hooves was almost hypnotic in a rhythmic tone which made him feel a bit drowsy, as to be expected from his not having a full night’s rest prior.

For some reason not a lot of ponies passed by from there, making the deserted street corner even more quiet than before. Something which Jon, as a resident of New York, would embrace as it wasn’t everyday he got to experience it. For the time being however, he allowed his mind to wander aimlessly like a dog owner letting their golden retriever frolic through the park off its leash.

Had there been someone with him this would be the part where they’d wave their hand in front of his face and ask him to come back down to earth. His sights were aimed straight forward but at the same time he seemed to be looking at nothing in particular, which is how his wife would often catch him from time to time back home; lately he wasn’t himself.

His glance into nothingness was so intense he almost missed the sight of some pony walking out of their house which was directly across from the restaurant. Normally Jon would’ve just ignored this sudden appearance, but there were some interesting features about him that snapped Jon out of his trance.

For one this Pony was a male Unicorn, something which Jon hadn’t seen all day. This alone caused him to sit up and take notice, but it was the fact that he also wore a lab coat and some kind of surgery cap on his head that got Jon to get up from his seat and walk over to the narrowest edge of the establishment to get a better look.

Male, Unicorn, hospital attire, lives close by. The planets had fallen into alignment.

“T-this... this is it!” Jon mutter to himself. Raising his hand only to keep it there like he didn’t know what to do with it, he began to wave for attention and raise his voice. “Hey! HEY I’M RIGHT HERE!”

The pony didn’t say anything back or look in his direction, and as he walked out of his house and further into the street Jon could tell he didn’t even have his eyes open; but that wasn’t the only thing he noticed. Slowly Jon’s hand lowered and his expression reverted back to its disappointed frown. It wasn’t him

What Jon had mistakenly thought were a hospital’s lab coat and headdress were actually a bathrobe and shower cap. His eyes were closed because he hadn’t yet gotten used to the bright light and now that he was closer it was noticeable that he was using his horn to carry a mug of coffee. All this pointing not to his potential as a physician but instead giving the implication that he had just awoken from a deep sleep.

Of course there was still the potential that this pony could be the elusive Mr. Whooves, but that notion quickly went away once he got to the mailbox, just outside his house. Using his magic he opened the container and fished out a few letters, whereupon he took a sip of his hot beverage and returned to his house.

Jon’s mind was playing tricks on him; apparently his wanting this meeting to happen made him see things that weren’t actually there. Gripping the edge of the fence, Jon clenched as hard as he could while taking a deep breath. He felt a sense that he wasn’t in control again, and that terrified him.

He needed something to take his mind off things for a bit, and fortunately enough the perfect distraction arrived on the scene.

“Oy! You’re not leaving are ya?” a voice called from behind. Turning to see who was calling out to him, Jon saw that Coatcheck had returned, now more presentable with his hair combed back, white button shirt, and the black apron now fastened around his waist. “We just opened up you know? I was going to ask if you wanted to order something while you wait.”

Turning back to see if his would-be contact was still there, Jon loosened his grip of the fence and made his way back to his seat while rubbing his eyes.

“Uh, yeah sure,” Jon answered. With a grunt he sat back down on his mushroom and preemptively reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his reading glasses. “What’s on tap today?”

“We have a wide variety of fine looking eats!” Coatcheck assured him as he handed over a medium sized menu with several pages. “Have a look-see!”

Following his advice Jon gazed at a random page, making this the first time he had ever looked at an Equestrian menu. As such, he didn’t recognize any of the names, most of which were references to dishes he’d never heard of. A few of them were inedible to a human digestive system, though Jon wouldn't know; the text describing each dish was just small enough that he didn’t feel like straining his eyes even with his reading glasses on his face.

“Yeah um... do you serve breakfast?” Jon asked, closing the menu and laying it down on the mushroom-table.

With his pad and pen still holstered, Coatcheck took a second to answer as he didn’t want to upset his guest.

“Well no... b-but for you I’ll make an exception!” he cheerfully said before getting out a pen and paper. “Whad’ya fancy today?”

“Okay well... I think I’ll have a spinach omelette with a side of toast, any kind is fine,” Jon ordered. “Side of hashbrowns and since the wife isn’t here how about a plate of sausages?”

Turning now to hand his menu back, Jon caught glimpse of Coatcheck glaring at him with confused, uncertain eyes. In addition, his order was only half written, since the straight talking waiter stopped mid-way out of bewilderment.

“I’m sorry but... I’m a little confused by some of the... things you ordered,” Coatcheck admitted as he looked down to read back some parts. “You said you wanted an... omelette and side of sausage... what are these things exactly?”

In an unintentionally display of dramatic expression Jon slowly took off his glasses while shooting his waiter a face of complete and utter surprise.

“You’re kidding me? You know... an omelet... a collection of eggs spread out and folded over a filling of cheese and other products,” Jon explained, which did very little to sway Coatcheck to the side of understanding. “How could you have never heard of an omelette?”

“Well... based on your description I’d say it’s because we ponies don’t use eggs like that,” he surmised. “We mainly use them as but one ingredient for making pastries and other kinds of sweets.”

Disappointed, Jon buried his face deep into his hands, sliding them down in disbelief.

“Also... this sausage... what’s that?” Coatcheck continued.

“It’s... it’s basically a pig,” Jon answered.

“Well we have pigs,” Coatcheck commented. “But... we don’t eat them.”

“Of course you don’t,” Jon said. “Okay forget breakfast I’ll just uh... I’ll just have a BLT.” Tilting his head to the side the once confused waiter was again put in an awkward situation.

“A what?” he asked.

“It’s just a simple sandwich,” Jon sighed. “It has lettuce, tomatoes, ba-- oh... oh right... uh nevermind.”

With a slight chuckle Coatcheck placed his utensils away and placed a friendly hoof on the back of his struggling guest of the hour.

“It would seem you’re still not entirely used to life here in Equestria,” he commented.

“Geez, no kidding! What I wouldn't give for a reuben right about now,” Jon replied. “The weirdest part is I’m used to all the big things like the monsters, the talking animals, the magical abilities... but your food... my god your guys’ food!”

Leaning on the table to get a better view, Coatcheck found himself laughing, almost as if he was at home watching Jon doing his show, only now in person.

“I mean you don’t... okay how ‘bout this.” Jon turned to face him. “I’ll give out a series of dishes and you stop me if anything sounds familiar.”

“Alright, shoot,” Coatcheck agreed as he sat down next to him.

“Okay... hotdog, steak, meatloaf, Tri Tip, chicken fingers, ribs, buffalo wings, Venison?” Jon listed, hoping that at least one would cause something to click in his waiter’s eyes.

“Sorry; nothing.” Coatcheck shrugged.

“Alright, alright but how ‘bout: Lobster, crab, shrimp, oysters... freaking fish!” Jon added.

“I know of such creatures,” Coatcheck assured him. “But I’m afraid I’ve never heard of a dish that involved them.”

Defeated, Jon leaned back in his chair to let out a sigh of disappointment. He’d had some frustrating experiences trying to convey with a waiter as to what he wanted, but none quite on the level of not knowing what an omelette was. He thought about asking what he would recommend but shuddered at the thought of what ghastly horse pellets or hay piles he thought were tasty.

At his wits’ end, Jon decided to try one last idea, a sort of hail mary attempt to salvage this conversation.

“Uh... a burger?” Jon asked.

“Oh! We have those,” Coatcheck revealed, causing Jon to sit back up.

“Really!” Jon exclaimed. “Y-you guys actually eat burgers here!?”

“Yes indeed. I actually have an entire page devoted to different kinds,” he answered, which made Jon open the menu again to find this passage. “But... I warn you I uh... I don’t believe we have the same kinds of burgers.”

This little bit of information was uttered the moment Jon found the legendary page. Without looking for himself, he turned to ask the obvious.

“W-what do you mean?” Jon asked.

“Well... I’m not sure how they’re like in the human world,” he began. “But in Equestria our burgers are mostly vegetative... like this one here, number 3 special... the main ingredient is tulips.”

Believing that perhaps he was being teased, Jon followed his hoof to the burger he was describing. Quietly he read the brief snippet of tiny text describing it, and found that he was indeed being earnest.

“Flowers... instead of a patty this burger has... flowers!?” Jon asked. His simple question caused Coatcheck to once again look perplexed.

“Um... what’s a ‘patty’?” he asked. Rather than explaining, Jon leaned forward to slam his head on the soft surface of the mushroom-table. It was going to be a long day.

A big order

With The Corner Street Eatery now officially open, a few ponies were already starting to herd themselves into its cozy exterior of white fences surrounding giant mushrooms. Usually when one enters the establishment they are met right away by its owner who always liked to say hello to everyone who entered, giving their experience a little personal touch. Some patrons were surprised that ol’ Coatcheck wasn’t there to say his usual greeting; those same ponies were further surprised to find that the reason for this was because he was currently getting the order of a very famous human by the name of Jon Stewart.

Instead of approaching or trying to communicate, these early bird ponies allocated themselves to various tables to await their turn. Coatcheck noticed this and even though he wanted to help them as well he knew he couldn't leave the currently confused human without taking his order. It was only proper.

However an order would’ve been impossible to place at this point, since Jon had no idea what to order and the physical act of speaking was rendered untenable with this face planted on the surface of his mushroom table. Coatcheck reminded silent in the hopes that Jon would finally make a decision but when a third party of customers walked in he felt it only right to try and speed things along.

“Um... Mr. Stewart?” he asked. “Do you need more time to think about what you want?” His voice was somewhat anxious, a tone that Jon caught and responded accordingly.

“You know what? How ‘bout this,” Jon said as he gave the menu back to his pony waiter. “How about you give me two or three of the most unhealthy entrees on your menu!”

Taking the menu, Coatcheck did a quick equation in his head, but stopped short once he realized how odd the order was.

“Uh, why so much food at once?” he asked. Rather than explaining his logic, Jon simply stood on his feet so as to look down on his waiter friend. This show of height difference made Coatcheck realize what a slight difference of portions would mean to someone like Jon. “Ah, I see... in that case one chickpea sandwich with a side of broccoli, one large helping of eggplant spread with extra garlic bread, and one soybean stew.”

“That all sounds... great,” Jon said while at the same time making a note to later make a joke about Equestria being heaven for vegans on his show.

“Also, since you ordered the sandwich special you get two extra free sides,” Coatcheck explained. “A fruit salad and your choice of either soup or salad... which would you like?”

Since his order was already large enough to accommodate his appetite, he didn’t really care about his side order, so he went with the first option.

“Let’s keep things consistent, shall we,” Jon said. “I’ll have the soup.”

“Very good... now then there is one last order of business,” Coatcheck said while sporting a face like he wasn’t sure how to phrase his next question. “I realize you are not from this world and as such... well I’m not trying to imply you’re not prepared or anything like that but--”

“Oh come on Coatcheck, don’t mince words with me now,” Jon teased as he lighted jabbed his stomach. “Spit it out why don’t ya?”

“Well it’s just this is a rather large and... expensive order so... I wonder exactly how do you plan on paying for it?” Coatcheck finally asked. “I only ask because we don’t accept human money and we don’t exactly have the same credit system that you do, as far as I know.”

Pursing his lips in thought, Jon placed an elbow on the table to support his head as he thought about the implications of the situation. In his haste to meet up with Derpy’s significant other he forgot that he didn’t have any bits for which to pay for anything. This reminded him of the last time he was in a situation like this, it was when he took his wife on a dinner date in Canterlot. Turning his head to once again look at the Castle, Jon was reminded not only of how he handled that situation back then but of how his friend Celestia had refused to give Trixie the operation she so badly needed. These two independent thoughts are what fueled his next decision.

“I would like you to send the bill to my oh so lovely business partner Celestia,” Jon said with the most smug of smiles.

“Oh! Celestia will be paying for everything?” Coatcheck asked in surprised yet exciteful tone.

“Indeed she will, my good man.” Jon nodded his head. “As a matter of fact why don’t you go ahead and add a bottle of your finest wine to that order.”

“Ah, very good sir, very good!” Coatheck said. “Just as well that she pays too... I’m not trying to insinuate that you can’t afford my food I assure you!”

“That bad, huh?” Jon questioned as he rubbed his chin.

“Well this is a rather large order so yes, yes it is,” Coatcheck said. “I’d say this is the most expensive order I’ve ever written down for one individual.”

“Expensive huh?” Jon said as he quickly glanced back over at the castle. “In that case make it two bottles of wine.”

“A-are you certain?” Coatcheck asked. “I realize you’re a larger being than I but is it wise to be drinking at this hour?”

“Buddy if you knew the day I’ve been having you’d pour yourself a glass too,” Jon assured him as he gave him a very weak and forced smile.

“Very well then... two bottles of wine,” Coatcheck repeated as he produced a slip of paper from his pouch with columns meant for listing food and a tally at the very bottom. “Before we proceed I’ll need your signature and the account of her Royal Majesty so I can send the bill to her... do you know her forwarding number?”

“Yes I do!” Jon eagerly stated as he grabbed the paper and gave his signature. The number was given to him a while ago by Celestia and he was told he could use it whenever he wanted to purchase something while in her kingdom. However, in his haste for petty vengeance on his celestial friend, Jon accidently switched two of the numbers around, making it so instead of Celestia this massive bill that ranged in the triple digits went to the nurse pony who was taking care of Trixie.

“Okay! Everything seems to be in order,” Coatcheck commented as he took back the slip of paper. “Now I must warn you, since your order is quite large it will take a while for me to make and deliver it to you all at the same time. So for now I’m afraid you’ll be alone with your thoughts till I get back.” Jon was never one to get mad at waiters for taking the time to get his food ready, he knew the trials and tribulations of a server and always leaned for them taking their time if it meant his order was right. However this time was different, since he would have to wait he knew his mind would wander off as it usually did, this of course meant that he would just find himself dwelling on the events that had transpired that day. Which was, among other things, Trixie.

“Actually!” Jon called out to Coatcheck who was on his way to another table. “Better make that three bottles of wine.”

Dutch courage

Part of why it would take a while for Jon’s food to reach his table wasn’t just because it was in itself a tall order, but because there were only three people who worked at the Corner Street Eatery: Coatcheck and his two daughters. After Jon had given his order to Coatcheck, he and his children then went out to greet and wait on some of the other ponies who had entered soon after.

From there Jon didn’t see him much but he got somewhat acquainted with his two kids, who came to see how he was doing from time to time. The two young mares did so not just because he was an important guest from another world but because from his grim demeanor masked by witty sarcasm to them meant that he had seen better days.

Their interpretation was, as with most waitresses, spot on, but to Jon’s credit he was getting better. The emotional pain that followed Jon all the way from Canterlot Castle to the humble setting of Ponyville seemed to have diminished somewhat over time. And while he liked to believe that it did so through his own sheer perseverance and ability to remain emotionally balanced, a big percent of it was due to the bottle of wine that was brought to him by one of Coatchecks’ daughters and was now almost completely gone.

It was basic math, the ponies in this world were about a third the size of Jon and as such so were their buildings, silverware, transportation, and of course food portions. For them a bottle of wine was enough for a few ponies but for Jon it was roughly around 20 ounces. In addition, their wine wasn’t as strong as the kind he’d had back on earth but in terms of rounding out his edges it performed admirably.

Just as is to be expected, none of the other patrons approached him for a variety of reasons, whether they be respectful given his current situation or for the mere fact that it would have been rude to intrude upon him during his private dining experience. Some ponies genuinely didn’t yet know why he was in Equestria but could hazard to guess it must be something daunting in nature to have made him come to this establishment by himself and order a bottle of alcohol.

And indeed it was daunting, were anyone else in the position that Jon was they’d retreat to the comfort of their own vices as well. With the alcohol now flowing through his system, Jon found things more bearable. His uncomfortable seat was more inviting, his future meal devoid of any meat now more charming, and the fact that he was going to meet Derpy’s husband now seemed like an exciting proposition... at least it did till he recalled why he was here to meet him.

“Trixie,” Jon said out loud to himself as he normally did once he started hitting the spirits. Looking back he found it slightly embarrassing the way he’d reacted in front of her back in the hospital. He liked to think of himself as a level headed man but lately that aspect of his personality was being put to the test. Which is what he felt like was going on, he felt like he was being tested, like the universe decided to throw him a curveball and stop and see how he would react to it. So far he failed in getting Celestia to help him so now it was his time to earn some extra credit by doing things himself.

But as he looked skywards at the Castle he couldn't help but feel small by comparison. The only reason Celestia refused to help Trixie with the operation was because she felt like it wouldn't work; who was Jon to say otherwise? Not only that, but his plan of asking Derpy’s husband was a longshot at best. What if he couldn't help him? What if he didn’t know anyone else who could? What if there wasn’t anyone else in this world who could perform the spell and if there was how could Jon find them?

All these questions and more once again crept their way back into Jon’s mind, screaming at him like an alarm clock that refused to go on sleep mode. Shaking his head, he knew there was only one way to drown out the part of his brain that was trying to be rational.

“Bottoms up,” he said as he leaned back to finish off the remainder of his first bottle of wine. To prepare for the intense flow of liquor, Jon remembered to take a deep breath before hand, but with the bottle almost gone he only managed to get a couple of gulps. “Damn, that was fast.”

Quickly, Jon placed the bottle on the table and turned his attention to the rest of the restaurant. His eyes locked with some of the other ponies dining which promptly caused them to look away. Slowly he scanned the room till he saw who he was looking for, and that was one of the daughters of Coatcheck who originally brought him the bottle.

“Excuse me, waitress?” Jon called out as he tried his best to recall her name, which was difficult since he’d been drinking. “Uh... Shoe Shine was it?”

The pony he was calling out was the youngest of Coatcheck’s daughters, an Earthpony with an orange body and long wavy yellow mane. Unlike her sister, she looked nothing like her father, since she took after her mother who wasn’t around anymore. She had just finished setting down a tray of sun dried tomatoes and dip to a party of four when Jon tried to get her attention. After a quick bow she made her way to Jon.

“A-actually it’s Sunshine,” she corrected. “Now then... what seems to be the problem?”

“Oh no problem, it just seems like I’m all out of wine.” Jon demonstrated by tilting the bottle over whereupon it produced only a few drops onto the ground. “Could you please be a dear and get me my other bottle?”

The advice given to her by her dad was simple: Do whatever the human said. As well as being a well rounded citizen, and dedicated single father of two, Coatcheck was also a businessman, who knew the value of customer satisfaction. As such he ventured to guess that if a famous celebrity like Jon had a good experience his restaurant would ultimately get a good reputation in turn. Even though that was the case, Sunshine still felt it necessary to err on the side of caution.

“Um, Mister Stewart... I don’t mean to pry but don’t you think you’ve had enough?” she asked. In response to this Jon slammed his hand on the table, causing the bottle to fall. After this little demonstration he leaned in to address the now scared waitress.

“I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough!” Jon acted out with a straight face only to later break out laughing. “I’m... I’m sorry; I’ve always wanted to say that. No I’m fine really, Shoooooe I mean Sunshine... now then... about that other bottle.”

Worried that perhaps his jesting nature wasn’t of his own doing but the alcohol talking, Sunshine had reservation about carrying out his request.

“I’m... well that is to say I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea,” she said tenuously. “I understand for somepony like you this might not be a lot... but I don’t think it’s good for your health to be drinking so early in the--”

“Oh for the love of Celestia just get the man his booze already!” Coatcheck yelled from the other side of the restaurant, not in anger but just loud enough so everyone could hear him embarrass his daughter. “If you’re worried about him getting drunk and making a pass at you then don’t; he’s married and he’s not interested in four legged women.”

With a shade of red that matched well with her color tone, Sunshine quickly turned around with blushed cheeks to address her father.

“Daddy, I can’t believe you said that!” she screamed, causing some of the regulars in attendance to chuckle at their normal level of behavior. “UGH! Sometimes you are so embarrassing!”

With that she turned back to Jon who was displaying his empty bottle with a forced look of sadness which at all times was trying to shift into full on laughter at the father-daughter squabbling. Sensing that there was no use trying to get through to either of the two men, Sunshine turned to head to the kitchen in a fluster.

“I-I’ll be right back with your order!” she bellowed, disappearing behind the door. With a chuckle, Jon placed the bottle of wine on the edge of his table to indicate he was done with it. He barely had time to think of a new way to tease his waitress when she returned with the wine in the center of a serving tray, which was being balanced on her head. “Here you go Mr. Stewart! Fresh from the cellar!”

Jon would have helped the young mare by taking the bottle himself but her years of practice made it so she could effortlessly tilt her head to the side and catch the bottle with her hoof entirely on her own. Not to mention that even if Jon wanted to help she would have been against it, she was at the age where she wanted to prove that she could handle things on her own.

“We don’t have a limit on how much one can drink, but I do advise you take it slowly,” she suggested, severely underestimating how much Jon’s body could handle. Before actually handing over the wine, the self-sustaining Earthpony made a couple attempts to undo the cork for him. “Here let me just... get... this... open... for... you...”

The thought crossed his mind that if she were a Unicorn she could've used her horn as a makeshift corkscrew. The fact that Jon’s first thought was the usage of a horn as a removal device rather than a conduit for some kind of cork removal spell pretty much spelled out how loosened the alcohol had made him. With anyone else their having to wait till Sunshine removed the cork would have annoyed them but with Jon he had just enough to drink to where he thought it adorable and just watched the struggling Earthpony go as far as biting down on the impermeable material. As entertaining as it was to see her struggle, Jon felt compelled to take control of the situation; he was starting to lose his buzz.

Reaching out, Jon grabbed the neck of the bottle and with one good yank pried it away from Sunshine’s clutches.

“Oh, no, no, no please allow me!” she begged as she tried to grab it back from Jon who had already brought it up to his face for inspection. “As your server I feel that it is my job to--”

Her charitable offering was suddenly cut short by the deafening sound of the cork flying off into the sky, making the popping sound one would expect to hear from a bottle of wine. Sunshine was momentarily taken aback by how easy it was for Jon to remove the blocking mechanism with just a flick of his thumb, but soon realized it was mostly due to a difference in size which made it look like Jon was holding a bottle of soda.

“Oh well uh... I loosened it up for ya,” Sunshine admitted while losing sight of where the cork flew off to. “N-now then, you don’t seem to have a wine glass from when my father gave you the first bottle... if you just wait for one minute I will return with--

Again Sunshine's attempt at excellent service was cut short, this time by Jon demonstrating how unnecessary any glassware would be at this point. He proved this point by throwing his head back and taking several gulps of the wine, getting more than half way through the bottle in the process. Even for Jon’s size he was still ingesting quite a far bit which made him almost choke in the process. His lungs begged for him to stop and take a breath and his liver followed in turn. With a hefty sigh, Jon slammed the bottle on the table and allowed the flooding wave of euphoria to sweep over him.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Jon moaned as the taste of the elixir still danced upon his pallet. “That's the stuff!”

“W-well I suppose that’s one way of... doing things. Yes, unless there’s anything else I think I’ll attend to some of the uh... some of the other patrons,” Sunshine stated, getting a wave of understanding from Jon. Walking towards the other side of the restaurant, she peeked over at the hedonistic human who was now taking another long sip. “Geez, even Berry Punch paces herself a little bit.”

With Jon being both outside and on opposite ends of the guests, who took to sitting away from him out of respect, he had the added bonus of making as much noise as he wanted. In this instance his being alone meant that he could consume his alcohol and make as much unruly noises as he wanted in the process, which usually came in the form of his gasping for breath after a particularly long swig of wine. From there, Jon just sat back and tried to relax as the wind that came with dining (or in his case drinking) outside brushed through his hair. The horrendous day he’d been having now seemed not so bad with his senses now slightly dulled and his head in the clouds. He still felt a bit of pain in his heart, as to be expected, but that was nothing a little more alcohol couldn't cure.

Given the size difference Jon wasn’t close to being properly drunk, but he was buzzed just enough to believe that asking for his third bottle was a good idea. With a quick adjust of his seat, Jon scanned the room for someone that could help him which in this case wasn’t Sunshine or even Coatcheck, but rather his other daughter Dandelion; another Earthpony, this time with a white body and very short baby blue hair.

“Excuse me,” Jon called out to the young mare who was finishing relaying an order to her father through the kitchen window of the house. “Dandelion was it? Can I get my third bottle of wine now please?”

Jon braced himself with an explanation as to why he needed it now, an explanation that was in itself alcohol fuelled so to him it made sense. If this pony was anything like her sister, her first instinct would be to comment on his already having enough to drink, a deviant thought that would soon find its way into Jon’s head which is exactly why he needed more.

With narrowed eyes the other pony sister looked at Jon and then at the bottle, alternating between the two like she was watching an intense game of pingpong. But without warning a smile arose on her face and she finally answered his request.

“Okay!” she said in a cheerful tone before walking back into the house to retrieve his order.

“O-oh,” he expressed out loud. “That was... easy.”

First contact

Wine was not Jon’s go-to alcohol of choice, if he had his way he would probably go for something a little more uplifting like scotch and soda. But even so he had to admit the wine in Equestria was some of the best he’d ever had which is why he was so excited that he was going to enjoy another bottle. He found himself having to wait for it though.

Unlike last time, Jon’s new bottle of wine wasn’t delivered within a few seconds. For whatever reason it was deemed necessary for Dandelion to take her time in delivering it to him, perhaps waiting for him to finish the one he still had which had a little bit of alcohol left. Lifting the bottle up to his face, Jon squinted his eyes to get a good look at exactly how much remained to drink, which was enough for maybe two or three more gulps.

His stomach began to complain in the form of gurgling out of tune; a combination of hunger and the fact that, since he hadn’t eaten all day, he was digesting pure alcohol rather than any nutritious edibles.

“Maybe I have had too much too drink,” Jon said to himself.

If his wife saw him now she would be all kinds of angry at him for his unhealthy approach this entire day. No sleep, not eating properly, drinking this early, yeah if she knew any of this he would be sleeping on the couch for sure. Out of boredom, Jon brought his wine bottle up to his face and looked through the glass to marvel at how easily he had gotten up to this point; feeling quite proud of himself.

The green bottle’s glass material combined with the flow of the purple elixir gave the scenery of the Ponyville street an abstract view. When he tilted it at different angles the view got distorted and he could see his reflection being bent in odd angles. He found it so amusing he continued doing so for the next several minutes.

Since he was looking straight ahead Jon’s attention was seized by something, something he saw through the semi-clear bottle making its way just up the road in front of the restaurant. At first he didn’t particularly care what it was but the longer he looked at it the more his eyes began to focus on it.

“What the hell?” Jon said to himself in a low tone. He couldn't quite make out what it was but he had a theory which made absolutely no sense. A small figure was floating from the lower section of the street towards the corner in slightly wobbling patterns. It was far too small to be a pegasus and yet slightly bigger than a bird with a low enough altitude that it was at eye level.

Fueled by curiosity Jon set aside his bottle to see what this mysterious floating object was, almost certain that whatever it was it wouldn't surprise him since nothing rarely did in this world; he was wrong.

“What the hell!?” he repeated.

The object hovering along the side of the road was indeed a living thing but it wasn’t exactly what he had expected. It wasn’t a bird nor a pony but instead a turtle, a turtle that had somehow received the gift of flight by the rotor attached to its shell like a helicopter. This flight system was powered by magic as evident by the magical aura surrounding it, but the distance was such that Jon couldn't notice.

What surprised Jon most about this augmented creature wasn’t so much its existence but the fact that no one seemed bothered by it. When he looked over at the other guests no one seemed to be paying it any attention, almost like it was a recurring event. Either that or Jon was so far gone in his alcohol consumption that he was starting to hallucinate.

It would seem Jon thought the latter was the case since he immediately arched his hand to the side and tilted the bottle to spill the remainder of his wine onto the ground, groaning the entire time like he had just gotten out of bed.

“I’m losing my mind.” Jon sighed, closing his eyes in protest even though the supposed flying turtle had already left the area. With his vision obstructed he didn’t even notice that someone was standing just to the side of him, noticing that Jon looked, and started to smell, like he’s had more than he could take.

“Uh, Mr. Stewart?” a voice asked, addressed to him from over his shoulder. With a swift glance over to his right Jon realized that he was no longer alone; in fact it was quite the opposite. Joining him now were not only Coatcheck himself but his two daughters. The whole family was looking up at him, with a tray of food balanced on their heads. All except for Dandelion who was only allowed to hold Jon’s third bottle of wine, which she did in her mouth. “Your food is ready.”

One by one each pony queued up to place a tray of fine cuisine in front of him, each more organic looking than the last. Presentation wise it almost looked as good as some of the best restaurants that Jon had been to in New York.

“Here we are!” Coatcheck said as both he and his daughter did a quick bow. “One chickpea sandwich with a side of broccoli, one large helping of eggplant spread with extra garlic bread, one soybean stew, one fruit salad, one bowl of special soup, and of course your last bottle of wine... unless you plan on ordering another one. Is there anything else we can get for you?”

Had he the nerve he would have asked if what he previously saw flying about was real or not. He ended up just letting it go though, he’d long since given up trying to understand how this world works.

“Nope I should be fine,” Jon answered. “This all looks very good; I’ll be sure to tell my friends and colleagues about this place... both human and pony.” This news brought great joy to the face of Coatcheck who, had he been younger, could have clicked his heels while jumping to express as much.

“Well that’s awfully nice of ya!” he exclaimed. “Come on girls, let’s give our esteemed guest some privacy while he chows down!”

“Enjoy your meal Mr. Stewart,” Sunshine said before leaning in to whisper. “You should really ease up on the alcohol though.” And with that she walked away, leaving her sister Dandelion behind. There was an awkward moment of silence before she spoke.

“Bye!” she said before giving a quick wave and heading toward another guest. Despite each member of the family walking off to attend to some other matter related to the restaurant, Jon could tell they were keeping an eye on him to make sure everything was to his liking. But while all the food was well presented and of top notch ingredients there was still a level of disappointment on Jon’s end.

“So... this is it, huh?” Jon said as he rubbed the back of his head while using an adjacent fork to poke at some of the edibles before him. “Sheesh, I hate to see what their most healthy things are.”

The food before him was indeed numerous but small in size. For a local each platter was enough to feed a single pony, in some cases even two, but for Jon the portions were so small that it felt like a step below a kid’s meal. He didn’t know where to start let alone remember what it was he even ordered to begin with.

Starting with what was the most familiar to him, Jon displayed the evolutionary benefit of his species by using his hands to pick up the heart healthy ensemble that was the chickpea sandwich and quickly taking a bite. It tasted pretty good but a devious thought crossed his mind along the lines that if this sandwich were instead lined with bacon strips and premium ham that perhaps he’d enjoy it more. Reaching over again he grabbed a piece of small broccoli, dipped it into the nearby spread and promptly devoured it. Again good, but not exactly what he was in the mood for.

With a sigh, Jon leaned back for a second where his gaze was taken by the ever present cow still munching away at grass like it was nobody's business. Jon had a thought that this particular cow was eating here long before he arrived and would continue to eat long after he left. Turning his attention to the other side of the restaurant, he saw how every other pony was eating and socializing among themselves or with the helpful staff.

Having gone from all three servers delivering his food to just himself, and still no sight of his contact, gave Jon an eerie sense of loneliness. In a desperate display of longingness, he leaned to his left to the only one thing he could talk to.

“Well Bessy, it looks like it’s just you and me for the time being,” Jon said to the cow who continued to eat her grass. “I seriously do not know how you manage to eat that stuff.”

Jon wondered if he looked more ridiculous talking to himself or with his new hefty friend but at the same time didn’t care; alcohol could do that to a guy. Not at all bothering the cow in question who continued to eat without any signs of slowing down.

“I like you Ms. Cow, you don’t let anyone tell you what’s what and you know exactly what you want! You’re living the dream,” Jon complimented as he reached over to scratch her on the rear, imagining all the succulent dishes that could be served with it alone. “We’re not so different you and I. But I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind having a nice tasty piece of this!”

To emphasize his desire for meat-based products, Jon firmly slapped the Cow’s upper thigh with just enough force to make a sound but gently enough so no one would get hurt. Feeling this strong pat upon its firm self, the cow arched its face upwards, then at Jon, making noises along the way.

“Mooooooooooooeeeeeeeeexcuse me!?” the cow exclaimed, now face to face with Jon.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Jon yelled as he threw himself back, hitting his head on the side of the house he occasionally rested on. His roar was so loud everyone in the restaurant, despite what their feelings were, now had their eyes on Jon, unable to return to their meals. “Y-YOU CAN TALK!?”

“Well of course I can talk! I’ll have you know I am a sophisticated and intelligent bovine,” she said in a high class tone, not moving an inch from her spot.

“Y-you can understand me?” Jon asked as he slowly returned to his seat, though now leaning away to keep distance.

“Yes I can, and may I say I do not approve your actions!” she continued. “A lady such as myself does not need to be sexually accosted whilst she is enjoying her meal.”

“Wow, wow, wow what the hell are you talking about!?” Jon demanded to know while holding onto his heart which had been jump started.

“I’m talking about when you laid your hand upon my behind and made a lewd comment on my person,” she explained. “I do believe your exact words were wanting ‘a piece of this.’” It took a few seconds for Jon to properly recollect.

“O-oh... OH no, no, no, no, no, God no, that’s... that is NOT what I meant!” Jon assured her. “I am happily married and don’t swing....that way!”

“Then what exactly did you mean, dear sir!?” the cow demanded to know.

“I just meant that... that if given the circumstances I would... I would want to... eat you,” Jon struggled to say.

“Wha-- How monstrously barbaric!” she exclaimed.

“B-but that was before I knew that you could talk!” he explained. “Had I known cows here were sentient I would... just God, I’m sorry!”

Both parties had calmed down somewhat, with the cow more at rest about being struck and Jon having fully caught his breath; though the ponies watching from the other side were still on the edge of their seats to see what would happen next.

“Well... I suppose I could forgive a certain degree of ignorance on your part,” she continued. “But let me ask you this... do you still feel as though you’d like to... devour me as you say?”

Rather than answering right away, Jon glanced over at his food then back at the cow while imagining all the different entrees her body alone could produce for him.

“Weeeeell,” Jon sighed, his mind not thinking clearly with the alcohol running through him. “I’ll be honest... I’d be lying if I said ‘no.’”

“Well I never!” the cow bellowed as she whipped her tail to slap Jon across the face. In a huff, the cow began to walk away in a slow pace that might fool someone into thinking she was alright but really she was in a fluster. Jon was stuck in a pose of complete shock, it took him a moment to grab the side of his face that was hit before sitting back up properly.

Jon didn’t know what to think or say at this point, so he just watched as the cow strolled away without a second glance. He wanted to call out to her and apologize again but he was still in complete shock so formulating words proved too hard a task. In addition the entire restaurant was dead silent with all eyes and Jon and he knew it. Normally he would have waved at them to get back to their meals but he was still paralyzed from the shock of this ordeal, rendering him unable to do anything but watch the upset cow walk away.

With her out of the way Jon’s left field of vision was now unblocked, leaving him a better view of the street that led back to the center of town. Because of this, not only did he see the cow make her way to the Ponyville town square but he also saw a pony walking the opposite way towards him. This too caught his attention.

“Well now,” Jon thought to himself, still rubbing his cheek. “Who do we have here?”

Usually a random pony wouldn't have been enough to get Jon to tear his gaze away like this, especially since he’d just been slapped by a cow, but for some reason this random brown Earthpony did just that. Partially it was because he was decked out with a brown sports jacket that matched his coat, and a red bow-tie of all things.

Whoever this pony was, he was certainly the most dressed mammal he’d seen all day, but this alone was not enough to hold his attention for long. Jon easily tore his gaze away and focused on both his food and still throbbing face. He couldn't afford to be distracted now, he needed to be on his toes.

Grabbing a nearby fork, Jon tried to force things back to normality by helping himself to the fruit salad before it got too soggy.

“This day.” Jon sighed as he helped himself to a mouthful of fruit. His self reflection was cut short by the overly dressed Earthpony from before in his line of sight again. This time he was now walking up to the restaurant’s main gate where he was immediately greeted by Coatcheck; only instead of a simple greeting he hugged this mysterious newcomer.

“Huh,” Jon thought as he swallowed his food. “Seems like they know each other.”

The two Earthponies exchanged a few words which caused Coatcheck to turn and point his hoof towards Jon.

“W-wait a minute,” Jon’s thoughts continued. “Why’s he pointing at me?”

After a quick nod the brown Earthpony in a red bow tie slowly made his way to Jon’s table.

“Wha-what? No way,” he thought. “Is this the guy who... no it can’t be.”

Jon’s mind began to run wild and his heart began to once again beat with excitement as he reminded himself as to why he was here in the first place. So many things were now being considered by him and suddenly he didn’t know what to do, say, or think. All of his suspicions were confirmed and purpose once again renewed the second this single individual dropped his bag next to Jon’s table and propped himself onto a seat adjacent to his.

“Greetings Mr. Stewart,” the Earthpony said. “I understand you wanted to see me?”

Slowly Jon lifted himself from his seat and, as if he was on auto pilot, extended his hand for an official greeting. His face still frozen in the same look of shock from when his ordeal with the cow but now surprise came in the from of another new comer.

“U-um yeah,” he said taking his hoof. “Dr. Whooves I presume?”

The Doctor will see you now

As someone who lived in one of the greatest cities in the world, as well as identifying himself as more of a liberal thinking man, Jon Stewart liked to flatter himself in the belief that he wasn’t ignorant when it came to those of different nationalities and backgrounds.

New York itself is quite comparable as an accurate representation of American life, particularly the richness that is its wide variety of multi-ethnic citizens from all parts of the world. To Jon the phrase “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free” was more than just a verse in a song, it was a code that he tried to live by and which was instilled into him at a young age.

He came from a long line of immigrants himself so he understood the importance of both accepting and respecting those who came to America. He always approached things with an open mind and did his best to remove whatever prejudice he might have towards those different than him. But like with everyone else it was hard to fully remove the stereotypes that an unfair society establishes for any given different-minded individual.

That same form of profiling, though unwanted by Jon, still followed him even in the land of talking ponies. Little by little he would learn about the inhabitants of Equestria and based on his limited experiences he developed some biased opinions of his own. Seeing Derpy’s doctor husband before him he couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t fit the preconceived notions he had picked up. He would soon learn just how wrong he was.

The first thing this pony did upon his arrival was make a quick introduction and order himself a cup of tea. He didn’t speak to Jon nor did it seem like he was in any hurry to do so since he was too busy getting the attention of Choatcheck’s two daughters who came to say their hellos, giving Jon enough time to size up his opponent.

His body was a mocha colored tan while his mane and tail were a darker shade of oak brown. Unlike most ponies he was actually dressed in a matching sports jacket and a blazingly red bow tie. When he spoke he did so with a posh accent which reminded him somewhat of his correspondent John Oliver, which also came as a surprise; he wasn’t expecting such an accent variation.

But of course another glaring feature was the fact that this pony was not of magic or of the sky but of the earth. Yes, instead of being a Unicorn, like Jon assumed, this creature was an Earthpony. Part of Jon wondered if this was really his contact which is perhaps why he felt it necessary to confirm it once again.

“So uh... you’re Dr. Whooves?” Jon finally asked after a lengthy bout of silence that was layered with a thin amount of awkwardness that seemed to have been lost on his guest.

“Oh please, call me Time Turner! All my friends do.” The overly dressed Earthpony smiled as he waved a hoof dismissively. “I don’t go by that name anymore. In fact, very few ever call me by that title let alone know about my previous profession... which is how I know you’ve been talking to my lovely wife.”

“Yes well at uh... at any rate I do appreciate you seeing me on such short notice,” Jon said as he continued to observe his table mate.

“Weeeell truth be told I wasn’t originally going to do so,” he revealed before taking a sip of his tea. “I’m what you’d call something of a ‘shut-in’ myself but when Derpy told me I’d be meeting Television’s own Jon Stewart I thought ‘why not’... although she didn’t actually say it was you. It was only after she pointed to her forehead and then at the TV that I knew who she was referring to... anyway, it’s not everyday one gets to meet a celebrity... plus when Derpy asks me to do something I find it quite difficult to say no to that face.”

“Well then, again thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to be here,” Jon reiterated.

“Busy is right. Even back when everypony knew me as ‘Doctor’ I never did house calls but... any friend of Derpy’s is a friend of mine and since she asked me to assist you I’ll do whatever I can to help,” he said, his smile never wavering as he viewed Jon’s spread of entrees and appetizers. “And I made the right call; seems you already got the party started.”

Following his field of vision, Jon noticed how his half of the table was filled with variations of delicately prepared food while the doctor’s side held only one small cup tea.

“O-oh I’m sorry!” Jon stammered as he quickly grabbed his fruit salad and used his fork to seize a random block of produce. “Would you like some?”

Leaning in to get a better view, the well dressed Earthpony noticed that Jon had inadvertently offered him a slice of a pear.

“Eh, no thank you!” he rejected with a face like he smelled something gone bad.

“Oh well then uh... can I offer you some wine?” Jon instead offered.

“Sorry; can’t,” he answered, once again shooting Jon down.

“Don’t care for the food here?” Jon asked as he withdrew his arms.

“Oh not at all! This place has some of the finest foods in all of Equestria! Oh yes, Coatcheck and his two daughters really do a fantastic job here! I can’t be certain obviously but I have a feeling that this quaint little restaurant is really going to go places someday!” he explained as he leaned back and threw his hooves out like he was about to embrace someone. “Derpy and I have been coming here for years now; she quite fancies their selection of muffins and I must admit my body has now been conditioned to function only after I’ve had some of their tea, it’s a shame they don’t deliver because otherwise I’d never leave the house. Not because of laziness, oh no, no, no but because I’d be too big to fit through the door! Ha! Now, if you want to hear about grotesque food then look no further than--”

“Um, Time Turner?” Jon interrupted. “Sorry, I don’t mean to cut you off but I am in something of a hurry myself and well... the thing is I asked to speak with you because I have an emergency and I could really use your help.”

Before being interrupted the ever smiling Earthpony was speaking not just with his mouth but with various swings of his forelegs and dramatic poses, so when he was cut short of his explanation he was left frozen in place a like a mime, only to immediately sit back down and adjust his jacket to look more presentable.

“Ah yes, quite right! Sorry about that, I do tend to get carried away at times!” he said as he quickly downed the rest of his tea like it was a shot of whiskey. “Right then! Let’s get down to business! Yooooou need my help with something, am I right? Well like I said I’ll help any way I can but just a fair warning, there may be a chance I’m not the right pony you’re looking for so let’s get on with this: details, details let’s hear them.”

Although he had agreed to take things more seriously, Jon had a hard time believing him. He was now more attentive but still had the same dopey smile about him and he was hunched over with his hooves under his chin as if he was trying to demonstrate what fascination looked like.

“Okaaaay here’s the thing... my friend is currently in the hospital with a kind of terminal illness,” Jon explained.

“Oh dear! This is serious!” he said. As if to show his commitment to the situation at hand he waved to Coatcheck to fetch him another helping of tea.

“Yes well... the thing is the doctors over at Canterlot Castle say they can’t do anything for her at this point,” Jon went on to explain. “She has a case of ‘Magic Clausus’ and the only treatment available is too risky to attempt. And well... I uh... I was hoping--”

“And you were hoping that I, being a doctor not of the Canterlot team, would perform said operation!” he interrupted, his tone high pitched and giddy because two new cups of tea had arrived. “And if that didn’t work you would then ask if I knew a colleague, through my presumed many, many contacts, who would be able to do so... am I right?”

“Y-ye-- that’s right! That’s exactly what I was thinking!” Jon exclaimed as a wave of hope washed over him. Slamming both his hands on the table, almost spilling his food in the process, Jon hoisted himself up to get in close. “So what do you say Time Turner?! Can you help me?!”

As if mimicking Jon, the good doctor placed his hooves on the table to lift himself up as well and slowly opened his mouth to take a deep breath, as if his answer would take great explanation. Surprisingly this did not happen, and after reaching over to grab some sugar he collapsed back into his seat.

“No,” he said as he slowly sprinkled the sugar into his tea like a witch brewing a potion. “No, I can’t.”

For the rest of the restaurant things continued uninhibited as nature had intended. Guests ate their food, waitresses took orders, and cooks prepared food. Everyone was doing what they were intended to do. All except for Jon who remained frozen in shock as his lunch guest sipped away at his now perfectly prepared tea.

“Wha... w-w-what?” Jon finally said. “What do you mean 'no!?'”

“Exactly what it means, good sir,” he answered as he straightened himself out in his chair and began to talk in a more sophisticated tone. “‘no’... definition: ‘A word used as a function to express the negative of an alternative choice or possibility,’ like for example.... ‘no I can not help you with your friend’s problem.’”

Sitting back down, as he was starting to again draw attention, Jon took deep breaths to calm himself. This could still potentially be his one shot and he didn’t want to wreck it by losing his cool.

“I know what it means but I... I just want to know why you don’t want to help me,” Jon carefully interpreted like he was talking to a lawyer.

“Oh well good heavens where do I even start!?” he said as he used his spoon to idely make a whirlpool in his drink. “First off, don’t confuse me with the Castle; it’s not that I don’t want to help you it’s that I can’t help you.”

“Alright, humour me,” Jon demanded. “Why can’t you help me!?”

“Oh sooo many reasons... you can’t even imagine,” he smirked. “For example, here’s an interesting fact... I don’t even know what ‘Magical Clausus’ is.”

“Y-you don’t?” Jon asked, his body leaning in with surprise.

“Nope; no idea,” he responded. “Mind telling me what it is?”

No words could escape Jon’s mouth, not that he was holding back but because he found it difficult to recall what the disease was while simultaneously struggling with the notion that he, a comedian from New Jersey, was having to explain the symptoms of a deadly disease to a doctor.

“Oh uh... well let’s see... If I recall correctly Clausus is a disease where... where the host is injected by magic,” Jon began, his brain now filling the blanks. “Yeah, it’s where a Unicorn’s magicatory system begins to shut down when it’s exposed to a large amount of harmful magic! The body slowly starts down and... and then dies.”

“Hm... that does sound dreadful. But also not at all my area of expertise... I’m no expert on magic you see or internal medicine for that matter,” he said while rubbing his chin, leaving Jon astounded by his lack of experience. “Speaking of which, you said that the castle had a treatment in mind but wouldn't do it... what is it exactly if I might ask?”

Rubbing his hand on the side of his face, Jon focused once again on his breathing.

“It’s um... It’s a technique that if done correctly would allow the operating physician to separate Trixie’s body into three forms of existences,” Jon recounted. “One representing the physical, and the other two the mental and spiritual.”

“Yeeeaaah I’m not even going to pretend that I understood that,” the brown Earthpony commented while Jon looked up to make eye contact. “At any rate this sounds like an awfully complicated procedure... pray tell how exactly does an individual go about... performing this act, hm?”

“The doctor does this through a.... through a magical spell,” Jon revealed, now understanding where Time Turner was going with this.

“HA! Definitely not my forte!” he said while patting the top of his forehead. “As you can see I’m not going to be performing any spells anytime soon.”

There was now an understanding on Jon’s part as to why Time Turner couldn't help personally, he just didn’t particularly like how he danced around the issue. But while it seemed like this particular pony wasn’t going to be of any assistant by any direct means Jon was determined to squeeze some usefulness out of him.

“I understand that but... how about this,” Jon continued. “Do you know anyone else who could potentially help me?”

A look of peaked interest sprung to life on the Earthpony’s face while he was in mid-sip. Extending his hoof to indicate he needed a second, he quickly finished his helping of tea and placed it back down.

“Actually... no I do not,” he answered as he waved for another cup. This made Jon raise his palms up to visually demonstrate how confused he was. “The thing is... I don’t really know any other doctor ponies; I mostly keep to myself.”

“Are you serious?” Jon questioned. “You’re a doctor but you don’t know any other doctors?”

“Exactly!” he answered with a wink. “A funny concept, that is.” Had Jon’s side of the table not been littered with food he would have slammed his head on its surface in frustration.

“I’m so confused right now,” Jon moaned. “What the hell kind of Doctor are you?”

Hearing this caused Time Turner’s ears to perk up and he dramatically leapt to his hindhooves, standing as tall as he could on his chair to try and get an unobtainable height advantage. With an outstretched foreleg he struck a dramatic pose like a lawyer pointing to call forth an objection.

“Sir! Do you doubt my claims of being a general practitioner!?” he said in a voice that sounded like forced grievance. “Are you insinuating that I am not who I say I am!? Do I need to run home and present to you my doctorate’s degree as proof in order to satisfy you!?”

“N-no of course not!” Jon stammered, shocked by his sudden outburst. “I-I believe you; there’s no need to show me a degree.”

“Oh good, because I don’t have one,” he said in a well mannered tone. Jon watched as the dramatic pony sat back down and started to nurse his new drink like nothing had happened.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait... you don’t have a medical degree!?” Jon asked.

“Um...I thought we established that this wasn’t an issue?” he reminded.

“How can you call yourself a doctor if you don’t have a degree!?” Jon reiterated.

“Relax dear sir, I assure you I do possess your coveted credentials,” he assured him. “Piece of paper, my name, a little symbol, a signature here, a hoof print there, and well respected font describing my abilities, I assure you it’s quite formal looking... however I do not have it in my possession at the moment... for you see I lost it.”

From the outset Jon wasn’t too hopeful about this plan; he knew it was a long shot but he was desperate enough to try anything. But the more he listened to this pony the more he was starting to feel like something was wrong. His once blind hope fueled by anxiety was now slowly turning into paranoia.

“You know, I think I know what’s going on here,” Jon said while the perky Earthpony was about to take another sip. This bold declaration caused him to put down his tea with a smirk like he knew things were about to pick up.

“Oh is that right?” he said. “Mind sharing your theory with the rest of the class?”

“Gladly... I think you’re not a doctor at all! You're some kind of con-artist!” Jon speculated with furrowed brows. “You’re just pretending to be a doctor to get closer to the Princess through me o-or something like that!”

“My, my, my, I can see why they gave you your own television program,” he chuckled. “You certainly do have the active imagination.”

“Laugh it up now but you know what it’s all starting to make sense now,” Jon continued. “The fact that people here only know you as the timekeeper, you don’t know about Clausus, you don’t know anything about medicine, you don’t know any other doctors,  you ‘lost’ your degree, and you’re not even a Unicorn!”

Unbeknownst to Jon at the time he had hit one of Time Turner's only soft spots, pressing a button that he didn't like being pressed. This didn’t stop him from breaking the same aloof expression on his face that he’d had since the start, like he knew what was going to happen before it did.

“First of all... I will grant that my actions may warrant some disbelief on your part... but do not think for a second that my being an Earthpony means I do not have the intelligence needed to be considered a doctor,” he explained, his smile now more in the form of a dirty smirk. “I’m going to go ahead and peg you as the type that believes all Unicorns are bred to be elite class mares and stallions while Earthponies should be subjected to heavy lifting and cleaning up... am I right?”

His accusations would go unanswered by Jon who resigned himself to enduring his lecturing. In his haste to try and expose this would be fraud he went and said something categorically racist. Something he wouldn't have normally done but did so nonetheless due to this limited knowledge of the situation.

“I don’t know what it’s like where you’re from but here in Equestria all ponies are equal whether they have horns on their head, wings on their back, or neither of which,” he continued to scold. “Unicorns are just as durable and tenacious as an Earthpony and Earthponies are just as knowledgeable as a Unicorn... and I am no exception.”

“L-look, I’m... I’m sorry,” Jon apologized as he slumped in his chair and pressed his fingers against his temple. “I didn’t mean it, truly I didn’t it’s just... It’s just that I’ve had a long day and... and I don’t know, I just... I just can’t handle this right now.”

This was the first time Jon’s anger backfired on him. While those back at the castle were perfectly fine with him walking all over them this was the first case of someone fighting back which left Jon momentarily stunned. Luckily for him, his new opponent was a firm believer in turning the other cheek.

“It’s quite alright, Jonathan,” he said before taking a sip of his tea. “We all have our ups and our downs... some days are just more descending than others, I suppose.”

“Well... again I’m sorry, Time Turner,” Jon repeated, his voice seemingly without emotion.

“Actually, why don’t you go ahead and call me ‘Doctor,’” he responded. “Dr. Whooves.”

Jon was moments away from relaying yet another apology, this time with a little more effort put into it, when something clicked inside his brain. For the first time something about this pony’s name sounded familiar now that he was hearing it out loud. From the start he was either too grief ridden or buzzed to put two and two together, but after having finally unloaded a majority of his frustration here at the lunch meeting Jon was thinking more clearly, albeit exhausted at the same time.

“Wait a minute,” Jon thought as he raised his head to get a good look at this pony as if he was doing so for the first time. “‘Dr. Whooves?’”

Proof

Even though it was a small restaurant with only three employees, the Corner Street Eatery did very well financially and had a diverse customer base. It would be quite some time before it became a franchise and branched out to other towns in Equestria, but for the time being they were well known in Ponyville with a steady flow customers coming in and out both old and new.

But even with their moderate popularity Choatcheck never in his time had to break up a fight or get himself physically involved with one of his patrons. He liked to believe it was because his food and restaurant atmosphere only attracted the most well rounded and respectful of ponies.

The back and forth between Jon and Whooves marked the first time Coatcheck had to step in to defuse a possibly volatile situation; not just for maintaining the status quo of his business but more to assist his two friends. Fortunately, by the time he left the kitchen and was back into the outdoor patio that was his front yard, both parties had already sat back down and were in the middle of lengthy discussion with Jon quietly explaining himself.

Nevertheless, Coatcheck felt it necessary to ask if everything was alright. And although he knew something was wrong, since he had never seen Whooves acting so terrified, he was assured by both patrons that his involvement wasn’t needed though duly appreciated. Whooves begged his old friend to leave them be and go about his business and he in turn relayed that same message to the other guests who by now were ignoring their meals in favor of trying to overhear what the human was whispering to the doctor.

After some time had past things returned to normal, or at least as normal as they could get following such an explosion of conflicting emotions, with Jon now trying his best to make sense of it all. Some guests were already done eating but chose to stay anyway, their imaginations ran wild with speculations as to what Jon had said to make Whooves want to run away and indeed what he was currently saying to make him sit still, wide eyed, and listening intently, as if Jon was reading the numbers of the winning lottery ticket.

Even if everyone could hear what he was saying they wouldn't have been able to understand any of it, such was the case with Whooves himself. He sat there with a mind as open as his mouth as Jon threw foreign words around like: BBC, Tardis, Dalek, and other terminologies that made very little sense to him but as a whole brought him to a startling revelation.

“A television show?” Dr. Whooves concluded. “There’s a television show about me?”

At first he didn’t believe it but when he considered all the sense it made he couldn't escape it and was forced to concede. It was the only explanation as to how Jon could possibly know so much about him for only having just met him. Plus as nonsensical as it sounded he himself was a time traveler which was only slightly less believable.

“That’s right. I didn’t put two and two together till just now, but yes, back in my world there’s this really old TV show about a time traveling doctor,” Jon added. “That’s how I suspected you had a time machine... aside from the fact that you’re a pony you could pass for the character by your similar aspects.”

Usually this would be the part where Whooves took another sip of his tea, which by now was cold since he had been too busy listening to Jon explain how his life was a reflection of something else in another world. Everything about him, everything that made him unique and his own being already existed in an alternate reality. The mere fact that it happened to be a television show was just the cherry on top of his having to evaluate his own multiplied reality.

Jon was all too understanding about the situation and remained quiet to allow Whooves the silence necessary to analyze all that had been said. It was a lot to take in let alone understand and one could only fathom what confusing thoughts traversed Whooves’ mind as he dealt with the existentialism that his presence and essence was not solely linked to Equestria, but also in the world of humans.

Some ponies who were present in the restaurant (either because they were still eating or they were waiting to see what would happen next) watched as Jon patiently waited while Whooves had his nose pointed skywards in deep thought with his eyes closed, almost as if he was praying. Eventually there was movement once again in the almost lifeless body of the doctor when he lowered his head to finally address Jon by asking but one single thing.

After all that he had learned one could only imagine the infinite amount of questions that could be asked after learning what he had learned. Jon was already braced to try his best and answer inquiries Whooves had ranging inquiries from his own existence to the notion that his physiognomy existed in a parallel world. But what he asked was something that not even Jon could answer.

“Is it any good?” Whooves asked.

“E-excuse me?” Jon asked in return.

“The show, Dr. Who... is it any good?” he elaborated, much to Jon’s surprise.

“O-oh, um... well I don’t really know,” Jon answered cautiously like he was on a gameshow. “I uh... I don’t actually watch the show I just know of it. Not really my thing.”

“Ah, I see,” Whooves commented while lifting his cup of tea to his face. “What a shame.”

By tilting his cup at different angles he began to examine his beverage, which hadn’t been attended too much lately. During this inspection Jon assumed he would have more questions to ask of him but he never did. From there the only thing that happened was Whooves motioning for Coatcheck to bring him a new cup of tea, leaving Jon to start inquiring.

“W-wait... is... is that it?” Jon asked, perplexed. “Is that all you want to ask of me?”

“Hm? Oh, yes that is all,” Whooves answered peaking over to his side at the entrance to the main house. “Now, where is Coatcheck with my drink?”

“S-seriously!?” Jon exclaimed. “That’s seriously all you want to know about all this? What happened to all of that stuff back there about ‘how did you find me’ or ‘who sent you’ and whatever!?”

“Well, you already explained that to me didn’t ya?” Whooves shot back, still looking over for his drink. “Back in your world there’s a television program involving a doctor, a doctor who... heh heh ‘doctor who’... anyway, a doctor who time travels by way of a blue tardis. You managed to reveal my identity by drawing parallels between myself and the character who looks, sounds, and has the same properties as I do.”

“And that seriously doesn’t make you want to know more about what’s going on here!?” Jon urged just as Coatcheck came by with a piping hot new cup of tea for his Earthpony friend.

“What’s there to know?” Whooves asked, making sure Coatcheck had left before continuing. “Trust me, in my line of work this is all very typical. Granted you spooked me a bit and I must admit the fact alone that my existence continues elsewhere as a form of entertainment is a bit... let’s say unexpected... but the fact of the matter is alternate universes, dimensions and conjoining realities are very much a real thing. And I believe no pony knows more about that than you and me... correct me if I’m wrong but haven’t you experienced this first hand as well?”

He had a point. While Whooves had the benefit of the doubt since he was a time traveler, Jon had been coming and going between his world and Equestria several times now and the more he did the more he realized how both could be looked at as alternate realities of each other. The biggest example on a more personal level would be his living in New York’s Manhattan while in Equestria there was a city he’d never visited by the name of Manehatten.

Did that place have a pony version of Jon and his family? He had no way of knowing but if there was he would definitely not be as blasé about it as his time traveling friend here.

“Well... be that as it may you’re taking this news remarkably well,” Jon complemented while rubbing the back of his head. “Gosh I remember when I started talking with some of the ponies here in Equestria... so many of them were amazed to find out that I was real and that the ‘Daily Show’ wasn’t just something someone had made up.”

The cup of tea that Whooves was all too eager to drink was inches away from his lips when something Jon had said caused him to momentarily stop in his tracks. Adjusting his vision he looked over at Jon with confused eyes while at the same time trying his hardest to hide a smile from appearing on his face.

“I’m sorry but... what?” Whooves asked.

“Did... did I say something odd?” Jon asked back.

“You said ponies here were shocked to discover something called ‘The Daily Show’ was real?” he explained, leaving Jon further confused.

“Yes... the ‘Daily Show.’ You know... my show... the show I host,” Jon repeated himself which only made Whooves look more confused. “You’ve... you’ve seriously never heard of my show? Oh c'mon it’s huge here and your wife watches it all the time!”

Once Jon made the connection between his program and Whooves’ beloved Derpy a look of realization swept over his face, causing him to finally take a sip of tea as if it was a reward.

“Oh of course! The ‘Daily Show’!” he exclaimed. “Quite right, quite right, now I recall.”

“I’m a... I’m honestly surprised you didn’t know about it,” Jon commented.

“Terribly sorry about that,” Whooves assured him as he allowed his toothy grin to finally break free. “‘I don’t actually watch the show I just know of it. Not really my thing.’”

As a comedian who both trained and was himself trained in the art of making other people look stupid, Jon was mentally kicking himself for having walked in head first like that. Maybe it was due to his still being buzzed, but for now Jon understood where Whooves stood on the issue.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have any questions for me; I get it,” Jon addressed with his hands outward defensively. “But I, on the other hand... have a whole lotta things I want to ask you.”

There was an unspoken though mutual understanding between the two regarding Dr. Whooves identity and what it meant that someone like Jon knew about it. Rather than just outright asking whatever he wanted, Jon decided to give him another fair warning lest they repeat the violent outburst on behalf of Whooves (an incident he was already making plans to have never existed).

“I see... well if you start asking about my name again I'm leaving. Ha! I jest, I jest... but, I’m sure you can appreciate that I won’t be able to answer all of your inquiries,” Whooves explained, putting his tea down to mark how serious he was now. “As a timetraveler there is a strict code of ethics that I must adhere too, as I’m sure you can understand.”

“I... I am aware of this,” Jon said. “Also, I guess you just answered my first question?’

“Is that so?” Whooves rebutted. “And what would that be?”

With more questions than Jon could ever remember having for a single pony he still found himself going back to the same one over and over again. It wasn’t by any means an intrusive one or one meant to suggest that he didn’t believe him, but rather Jon just trying to further grasp the situation.

“So... you’re really a time traveller, aren’t you?” Jon asked, his face poised to adjust to any emotion that would be deemed necessary from any answer. Pausing for a moment, Whooves raised his cup of tea to his mouth, taking his time as he slowly drank from it like it was his first time doing so. With a quick sigh he placed his cup back down and gave Jon the answer he wanted to hear.

“Yes,” Whooves answered. “Yes, I am.”

A flood of new possibilities rushed through Jon’s mind. He didn’t have time to think of the moral or ethical parameters at play here, his only thought was how he could use this to his advantage. But as the old saying goes he forced himself to take a step back and take into consideration whether or not this was indeed all too good to be true.

“I... I see,” Jon gulped as he nervously began to shake his leg while drumming his fingers against the table’s surface like a child being given too much sugar. “Well that’s... that’s certainly a bold claim to make.”

“It sounds as if you don’t believe me all of a sudden,” Whooves commented with a lone suspiciously raised eyebrow.

“Well I mean... don’t get me wrong but anyone can just say they’re a time traveler,” Jon accused with the same level of caution one would use when poking a sleeping bear or hornet’s nest. “I mean... remember when I accused you of being a con-man?”

“I most certainly do,” Whooves answered with sharp eyes. “I hope you don’t still think that I--”

It took him a while but before he could finish his thought Whooves realized that in actuality Jon’s statement was but a clever ruse, the likes of which one might apply on a child to clean their room or eat their veggies.

“Aaaaaah I see now,” Whooves smiled. “You want proof, don’t you?”

“Look aaall I’m saying is I only have your word that you actually have a time machine,” Jon coaxed, trying his best not to rush things too hard. “For all I know you’re still trying to trick me and your little freak out back there was all just an act.”

Jon was certain his continued accusations would leave Whooves irate and uncomfortable. Both for continuing to imply he was lying and by reminding him of his little bout of paranoia powerful enough to make him run away in fear.

However his suspicions were found to be the exact opposite of what would occur, leaving Jon surprised more than anything else. With a quick thrust backwards like he was attempting to dodge a bullet, the brown coated Earthpony threw his head upwards and commenced to push all the air out of his lungs.

“Ahhhh ha ha, I must say you flatter me Mr. Stewart!” Whooves said after a lengthy bout of laughter. “To think that you’d believe me to be as good an actor as I assume my human counterpart to be.”

“Well, like I said I only have your word that you are who you say you are.” Jon shrugged, now making sure to tread more lightly. “So... so yes some proof would be nice; it’s the only thing that matters.”

Jon didn’t know which was more scary, the fact that this pony was who he said he was or the smile currently creeping on his face.

“You know what Mr. Stewart? I like you! I can see why my wife enjoys watching your program,” Whooves complimented as he reached down to fetch his leather satchel. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do... I’ll prove to you once and for all that I’m the real deal, so to speak, once and for all!”

“And how pray tell do you plan on doing that?” Jon asked, now on the edge of his seat.

“Simple! By showing you the wondrous device that I have in my possession,” he explained while undoing the strap and shoving his hoof within his leather pouch . “Just give me a moment.”

From there no other words were uttered with the only sound to be heard that of Whooves rummaging through his bag for the device he had proclaimed would convince Jon of his validity. Though even if he wanted to speak he found it impossible.

Jon couldn't even begin to speculate as to what Whooves could possibly possess to give him the proof he so badly wanted. For all he knew it could be some futuristic device that was thousands of years more advanced than anything thus invented or perhaps the skeleton of an ancient proto-pony from back in the stone age.

The thought also came to mind that, although he no longer believed it to be fact, if he was indeed a con artist whatever he would show him could just as well be a fake in an attempt to continue his charade. Surely whatever he produced would need to be of great weight and importance to convince Jon of something so ludicrous as the notion he was having lunch with a time traveling pony; and there was no way his time machine was compact enough to fit in his bag.

“Hmph. Unless he produces a ‘time traveler’s membership card’ I think I should remain a little bit skeptical,” Jon thought as he watched the bow-tie wearing pony continue searching through his belongings. “Why doesn’t he just show me his time machine? I mean sure it’s probably back home but what could he possibly have that--”

Just then Jon was reminded back when Whooves almost ran out on him when he first inquired about his time machine. Aside from it being a major break from his character there was one thing he remembered clearly, and that was how he made an attempt to retrieve his bag before departing, as if it contained something he couldn't leave behind.

That wasn’t the only thing that crossed Jon’s mind. He also recalled something about the Doctor from the television show back home. Even though he never much watched the program himself he did know that there was a certain item that every doctor always had, a small mechanism that was as much a signature device to the Doctor as the Tardis itself.

“Could it be?” Jon thought with increased anticipation. “Is it possible that this Dr. Who also has... that?”

A demonstration

Even with his limited knowledge of the television program that was almost as old as he himself, Jon knew a few facts about Dr. Who, enough to carry a conversation, as was the case with a lot of television shows. It was this knowledge that helped Jon come this far in uncovering the true identity of the pony known in this world as Time Turner but was in fact the pony version of the Doctor, known here as Dr. Whooves.

If his continued suspicions were true, then any second now his time traveling friend would produce a multi-functional probe-like object, iconic to the Dr. Who franchise.

Before any more speculations could be done on the part of Jon his thought process was cut short by Whooves joyfully announcing his discovery.

“Aha! I found it!” he announced, loud enough to get Jon’s attention but low enough to not draw any more attention to himself from the other customers.

“Y-you have!?” Jon stammered.

“Indeed I have!” he proudly answered, his hooves still in his bag like a magician getting ready to pull out a rabbit. “I have in my possession an item... that will undeniably banish any thought you might have that I am false information and trickery... I have here a device that will prove once and for all that I am... the time traveler you know as Dr. Who!”

“W-well what is it!?” Jon bellowed, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of being shown the distinctive tools required to be considered a time traveler. “Show me!”

“Calm yourself Mr. Stewart. Such things shouldn't be rushed... especially considering that what I have in my hooves is a machine of such power that I have never shown it to anyone in this timeline!” he continued to brag. “Brace yourself Jonathan, for what I’m about to show you... may very well change your interpretation of space and time and the very concept of life itself! Pray to whatever god you believe in that by showing you this I don’t enlighten your mind to the brink of insanity... now then... BEHOLD!”

With a mighty thrust of his right hoof Whooves produced a small contraption so suddenly that Jon jumped back in his seat, even though he saw it coming. Slightly out of breath, he reached into his coat pocket and with nervous hands produced his glasses to get a better look at the object that now rested on the table before him. It was bulky with square dimensions, a large light bulb attached at the helm, and a spherical lens in the front; it wasn’t at all what he expected.

“A camera?” Jon squinted as he looked again, this time without his glasses. “You wanted to show me... a camera?”

“Yes, yes I did! Marvelous piece of technology wouldn't you agree?” Whooves said as he carefully brought the device closer to his chest to admire it. “You know photography is a fairly new concept here in Equestria. For the longest time images of ponies were captured on the face of a canvas or a stone slab, but this... very sophisticated, very intriguing. I actually just bought it today in fact, that’s why I was so late to our meeting. Lovely, isn’t it?”

“Uh, y-yeah it’s uh... it’s nice,” Jon complimented, his voice thick with disappointment.

“You sound rather... disingenuous.” Whooves chuckled, placing his camera gently on the table.

“Well no offense but how is that going to convince me of anything?” Jon asked while making a gesture towards his device. “Because I gotta say I was expecting something different. Something like, oh I don’t know... something like--”

“Something like this?” Whooves interrupted as he quickly reached into his bag once more to produce a slim object which to Jon looked like a pen. To get a more clear look at what this new item was Jon placed his glasses back on his face so quickly he almost poked himself right in the eye.

“What... is that thing?” Jon asked as he leaned forward to get a better look at the probe-like object.

“This? Why it’s a little invention of mine,” Whooves explained while Jon squinted his eyes and tilted his head to get a better look. “It’s a screwdriver!”

“No it’s not,” Jon commented, his eyes still on the device.

“Aaaah you’re right... yooou’re right, no it isn’t,” Whooves said as he rotated the device to reveal it looked the same on all sides. “A screwdriver can hurt somepony but this... the reason I like this little number is because it’s completely harmless; doesn't hurt, maim, or kill but what it does do is it serves as a multifunctional tool like lockpick and body scanner.”

Even with this limited knowledge Jon was starting to piece together what this meant.

“Another thing it does rather well is it can remotely control nearby devices.... devices like the time machine I have stowed away at my house,” he explained further which made Jon finally take his eyes off the device and put them back onto Whooves in shock. “But it only works if the object in question is in range...a demonstration.”

“W-w-wait a minute!” Jon stammered as Whooves pressed a switch making the object extend outward slightly like a flower blooming. “You’re not going to--”

But by then it was too late for Jon to even comprehend what happened. Within a fraction of a second a bright light radiated from behind Whooves, leaving him unscathed but temporarily blinded. The true effect of what had occurred would be forever lost on Jon, not because he couldn't understand it, but because it was like it never happened.

Whooves took upon himself to speak after a lengthy segment of silence between the two.

“Aha! I found it!” he announced, loud enough to get Jon’s attention but low enough to not draw any more attention to himself from the other customers.

“Y-you have!?” Jon stammered.

“Indeed I have!” he proudly answered, his hooves still in his bag like a magician getting ready to pull out a rabbit. “I have in my possession an item... that will undeniably banish any thought you might have that I am false information and trickery... I have here a device that will prove once and for all that I am... the time traveler you know as Dr. Who!”

“W-well what is it!?” Jon bellowed, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of being shown the distinctive tools required to be considered a time traveler. “Show me!”

“Calm yourself Mr. Stewart. Such things shouldn't be rushed... especially considering that what I have in my hooves is a machine of such power that I have never shown it to anyone in this timeline!” he continued to brag. “Brace yourself Jonathan for what I’m about to show you... may very well change your-- B’AHAHAHAH! Aaaah ha, ha, ha.”

Out of nowhere and without warning Whooves began to mysteriously bellow with laughter like a man possessed, which really surprised Jon since the buildup to his unveiling was quite serious in nature, only cut short by this spontaneous surge of laughter. Jon was still anxious to see this mysterious item but now he was curious as what was so darn funny.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Whooves apologizes in between fits of left over chuckling. “I... oh God... I can’t say that again with a straight face! Here here just take a look already.”

With the grace of a caffeinated chimpanzee Whooves unsheathed his hoof from his leather bag and plopped an item on the table; an item that left an anticlimactic Jon feeling more confused by its identity than Whooves’ outburst of laughter.

“A camera?” Jon squinted as he looked again, this time without his glasses. “You--

“‘You, wanted to show me... a camera?’” Whooves interrupted with his best Jon Stewart voice which only made him once again explode with laughter. “AHAHAHAHAAAAHA...aaaah, never gets old. ANYWAY! Yes! Yes, I wanted to show you this camera... not just because of how nice it is because honesty it is a rather nice camera-- I mean look at it, it’s even got a little doo-dad right here so I can add a little strap to put it around my neck... but yes, anyway anyway I wanted to show you this because it will prove to you that I am being honest with you!”

There were so many things that Jon didn’t understand. Like what was the deal with Whooves unable to control his laughter, how he knew what he was about to say word for word, and exactly how he intended to prove himself as a time traveler with just a camera. However ethics dictated that he continue the conversation path that ultimately lead him one step closer to realizing his plan.

“Okaaaay... I’m not exactly sure how a camera is going to convince me of anything,” Jon said, begrudgingly setting aside his odd behavior. “Unless you have some pictures from your trips through time or something like that.”

“Oooooo! Quite close, actually! You see my plan is to... well in a matter of speaking I want to... actually why don’t I just show you. A demonstration!” he said as he hoisted the camera to his face and aimed at Jon. “Now then! Smile and say ‘allons-y!’”

“W-w-wait a minute!” Jon stammered as Whooves pressed down on a button located atop the camera. “You’re not going to--”

But by then it was too late for Jon to even comprehend what happened. Within a fraction of a second a bright light radiated from Whooves’ device, leaving him unscathed but temporarily blinded.

Two worlds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This can’t be right!” Jon stated.

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

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

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

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

“No trick,” Whooves answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Li... like... this?” Jon said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Desperate deception

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.”

Interview: Please welcome to the show Dr. Whooves (1/6)

The Daily Show Interview transcript archive:

Series: Equestrian interviews

Interviewer: Jon Stewart

Guest: Dr. Whooves (Time Turner)

Date: ???

Location: Daily Show headquarters

733 11th Avenue Manhattan, NY 10019

THIS IS THE DAILY SHOW WITH JON STEWART

Whenever Jon had a guest on his show he always made sure that at least one personal assistant was attending to him or her at all times. If said guest was a run-of-the-mill author that no one had ever heard of then an intern would watch over them and if it was a high profile celebrity like an A-list movie star or even the president of any given world nation then Jon took it upon himself to show them around the studio.

More often than not the person who kept watch over the guest was Jon’s assistant Selina Jensen, who made a habit of always being in the same room as the guest to guide them like a heavily made-up border collie in a pants suit. She’d only stop looking after them if they directly expressed the desire to be alone or if she knew someone else would take her position.

The reason for this, as Jon liked to explain to his staff, was because he wanted guests to have a good experience to the point where they’d leave with a good taste in their mouth and would be willing to come back again for a re-interview. Jon found that by having at least one person to show them around or wait on them hand and foot they would be more likely to return. This rule of thumb could be applied for nearly everyone who came to his show. Except for Denis Leary; he’d come back for another interview even if Jon didn’t want him to.

Sometimes guests would wonder why this was and ask him backstage why one of his employees was following them around. In response, Jon would always joke and say without hesitation; “To keep you out of trouble.”

There was once a time when Jon would only say that ironically, but whenever he had a guest from Equestria he always made sure they had a baby sitter for just that reason.

Since he had been there several times, and knew the dangers of their world first hand, Jon wanted to make sure that whenever someone arrived from Equestria they always had a handler to keep an eye on them. He wasn’t particularly in the mindset that anyone who came from Equestria was dangerous but the potential liability was what it was, a possibility.

So, not out of fear but out of caution, Jon preferred that Selina personally acted as the human chaperone for every Equestrian Interviewee.

Besides Jon, she had the most experience with Equestrian guests ever since day one when Spike himself tried to eat her necklace, so she was the perfect choice. She was always there to either explain or diffuse a possibly volatile situation. If a pony had questions regarding human life or the show she’d explain what would happen and if a staff member had some misconceptions or objections about working on or with the guest she’d be there to explain that there was nothing to be fearful of.

However, this time around everyone from Selina to the staff members to even Jon himself, to some degree, were confused about having Dr. Whooves on the show.

The numerous members of the Daily Show staff, who at this point had seen their fair share of guests from Equestria, were confused as to why Jon decided to interview Dr. Whooves of all ponies. As agreed upon by the two of them, Jon made sure to tell no one of his status as a time traveler, so to staff members he just looked like an ordinary Earthpony with an equally ordinary and dull job to go with it- timekeeper. He didn’t even have the added bonus of being a vibrant tone of color like his colleagues before him and yet Jon changed the format of the stage for him in the form of having a blue Tardis on display near the desk.

But probably the most confused by this choice was Selina who felt like she was being kept in the dark about something. This was mostly because she couldn't understand why this seemingly bland character was important enough that Jon wanted her to never let him out of her sight. Her instructions, which Jon hammered into her head the second he arrived at the office, were to never take her eyes off of him and to make sure he doesn’t try anything funny.

Her suspicions only worsened once she met with Whooves in person. At first glance something about him seemed oddly familiar though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. In addition, contrary to how most ponies acted, once he made contact with the human world he didn’t immediately begin to bombard the nearest human with an endless flow of questions and comments.

Sometimes the culture shock of being in a new world made them nervous or scared, but with Whooves he acted no different than he usually did, that is to say he was the picture of nonchalance. As a matter of fact, the second he touched down he immediately went to the dressing room and stayed there for the remainder of the day, refusing to venture anywhere else or converse with any humans.

She found it odd for a pony but in actuality this behavior was quite normal for Whooves who preferred to be alone- but Selina was a good judge of character and didn’t peg him as the anti- social type, quite the opposite really. She was just put off by how he didn’t question anything around him. He didn’t ask about how the show’s format works, or have any questions regarding human culture and what he should avoid saying; he just stayed in his dressing room and said nothing almost as if he’d done this before and already knew the answers to these questions.

In fact, for the entire day he only asked two things of Selina. The first being a request that she go and bring him a cup of tea, and the other being that she take his picture in front of the entrance of the Daily Show set moments before the third segment began.

As always, whatever Jon’s emotions and state of mind might have been before the show (in this case anxious with a hint of fear) were quickly replaced by his usual bout of cheerful facetiousness that carried the show for a half hour as brought on by his expert acting. It was this very same glee that was present when the crowd began to vocally express their joy when the camera did its usual panning to the front of the stage right after stock footage of Manhattan in fast forward was shown on screen to signal that the commercial was over.

Their cheers echoed all through the halls of Daily Show Headquarters while the camera did a sweep of the studio to show off the packed audience as well as the slightly altered stage. Finally it did its final zoom on Jon who was at his desk placing his notes in chronological order while jostling back and forth in his chair like he was listening to catchy music.

Lingering for a bit he pretended to not notice it was time to start only to express fake shock and point at the nearest camera with his pen.

“Hey everybody welcome back to the Daily Show my guest tonight!” Jon roared over the crowd as he flipped his pen into the air and caught it in his hand without looking. “He’s a very clever young man from the town of Ponyville where he is their timekeeper as well as the husband of previous Daily Show attendee, Derpy Whooves.”

Youtube Video

“Okay either that was the wrong clip or we’re using some crazy-ass filters,” Jon commented as a confused audience laughed at his choice of video. “Please welcome to the show Time Turner, also known as ‘Dr. Whooves.’”

With nothing to go by aside from name and the occasional commercial preview (that didn’t happen in this instance) the crowd defaulted to cheering in their usual level of enthusiasm which, considering that they were about to see another talking animal, was somewhere around “ear shattering.”

As is sometimes the case, Jon didn’t have a chance to meet up with Whooves before the show. His being on a conference call kept him away but with Selina acting as his tour guide and their having previously met he was certain that not much would happen. Little did he realize what underhanded tactics were at play here.

With the crowd cheering for things to get started, a lone figure slowly emerged from backstage with Jon recognizing him as Dr. Whooves. This identification was further cemented by the fact that he was dressed virtually the same as when they had lunch and by how he grinned the same smile to the audience as he did most of the time with Jon.

Confidently he walked across the stage, occasionally stopping to lift himself on his hind legs and use both front hooves to blow kisses at the audience. By the joyous look on his face one could tell he was enjoying himself; one might also say a little too much since the interview hadn’t even started.

The height of Whooves’ enjoyment was most evident when at one point, while standing straight up, the posh pony with the everlasting smile threw his forelegs to the side and spun around like he was Maria von Trapp in the flim the “The Sound of Music;” stopping just short of doing a little song and dance routine. He did this display of delight right in front of his Tardis which he hadn’t seen before now as they had to place it on stage before hand, which everyone thought was just more props.

The audience got much enjoyment out of this and cheered for him while he stood in the middle of of the stage, basking in the hot lights of the building with his forelegs still to the side like he was trying to absorb every minute of the experience.

Jon hadn’t gotten out of his seat to meet his guest halfway as he sometimes did but instead resigned himself to sit in his chair and watch his future interviewee gesturing his way closer and closer to the desk, stopping to pump his hooves in the air or curl his forelegs back to beg the audience for more volume.

The camera was on Whooves the entire time, as to be expected, so those watching at home didn’t see Jon who was just off screen, sitting at his helm while patiently waiting for his guest to sit down. There he sat, studying his guest as a hunter did his prey, going over what he was going to say and predicting how the interview might play out. This was his final chance and he was going to make it count.

Whooves was in the human world, he was going to be interviewed, he believed that he had his time machine, Jon had his paperwork as well as another “guest” waiting for him back in his office. Everything was in order. As time went on, Whooves eventually inched his way to within a few feet of the desk.

Giving a smile that carefully concealed his nervous expressions, Jon got up and offered him his seat which he blindly took without looking as if he knew ahead of time that Jon’s kind gesture was coming. With a quick hop backwards Whooves jumped in his chair and raised his forelegs in the air then dropped them to point at the audience with a wink before swiveling into place- his last ditch attempt to initiate a quick pander to the audience.

Jon watched all of this and just shook his head with an added sigh of amusement. As Jon sat down he quickly ran over the facts of what he knew in his head like a lawyer reviewing the evidence before a murder trial. He was ready and so was his opponent.

Before he spoke, Jon made one last observation about his guest. Because while he looked virtually the same as last he saw him there was one little detail about him that was new. Along with his leather bag, brown sports jacket, and red bow-tie Whooves had one extra article of clothing that he didn’t previously have. That being a jaunty fez, the same shade of red as his bowtie; Jon had an idea as to where he got it.

“Hello and welcome to the Daily Show!” Jon said. “Thank you so much for being here and before we get started shall I say... that is a rather nice hat you have there.”

“Why thank you very much!” Whooves said with much enthusiasm as he adjusted it atop his head. “I found it in your prop room; hope you don't mind I borrowed it... I think it looks good on me, don’t you?”

Before he could answer that question a few audience members did it for him by making a quick and loud yelping noise of approval.

“Uh, what she said,” Jon said, pointing at the now laughing audience. “So Mr. Whooves... you a-- again thanks for being here... you, you, you are the timekeeper for... Ponyville am I right?”

“Yes, yes I am,” Whooves answered.

“I see... a-and you’re also a time traveler right?” Jon added. And then silence.

Whenever a guest from Equestria came to Daily Show Headquarters the staff always had a good enough idea of what they were working with; usually in the form of a little memo sent via email. Up until now everyone knew Whooves as a simple time keeper from an equally simple town- but this startling new development took them all by surprise. From the interns in the back to the sound guys up top, no one saw this coming.

Selina was put in the unwanted position she hated ever so much; not knowing what was going on. While both the crowd and those on stage fell silent she looked at her clipboard at the profile she composed of Whooves incase she missed something. Under occupation it only said “timekeeper” but now that she was viewing all her notes in their entirety while looking at the pony himself she finally made the connection. She now knew why he seemed so familiar before.

“I thought... we agreed we wouldn't talk about that... Jonathan,” Whooves finally said after a lengthy bout of murmuring from the audience...

“Well we have a rule here on the Daily Show,” Jon answered. “And that rule is on my show... we’re to have complete transparency.”

Aside from FOX pundits who he tricked into coming on his show, Jon never liked to argue with his guest on live television. When it came to Whooves he felt the best way to counter his wisecracking attitude would be with a stone-hard serious demeanor, head on. And yet something about how Whooves reacted to this accusation worried him; specifically the fact that he didn’t react at all.

The first time Jon accused him of being a time traveler he broke down and nearly ran away in terror, and that was back when it was just the two of them at a table where no one could hear them.

But now that Jon was doing so in front of billions of people; nothing. Despite their agreement beforehand Jon had exposed his darkest secret to two worlds at once but his reaction couldn’t be any more unlike what Jon had expected.

Whooves kept himself calm and collected without any hint of disturbance while Jon did the same by reminding himself that no matter what his guest was planning he had the upperhand. He had his facts, he had made sure Whooves was out of his element, and if all else failed he had an ace in the hole waiting back in his office.

As if he was looking over a pair of sunglasses, Whooves tilted his head forward to look at Jon. His being outed didn’t seem to bother him at all; if anything it seemed like he relished in it by how he responded with a grin.

Jon was ready. No matter how much he denied it Jon was fully prepared to back up his claims with irrefutable proof; he just needed to play his cards right.

“Well Jon,” Whooves said which made Jon’s itchy trigger finger thumb away at his notes. “You’re right.”

“Wait... e-excuse me,” Jon responded, his iron strong expression of concentration thoroughly shattered. During recording or airing the live crowd in the studio were encouraged to refrain from talking and to only vocalize themselves when Jon said something funny, and only then in the form of laughter. There weren’t enough staff members in the world who could have refrained the audience from gossiping among themselves.

“I said, you’re right,” he repeated himself as he turned to face the camera. “My name is Dr. Whooves, though some of you might know me as Time Turner... and I... am a time traveler from the future.”

When Equestrian Interviews first started to air humans were very suspicious that what they were viewing was real and were quick to speculate. While those in Equestria, having been subjected to such things on a regular basis, held no such skepticism.

In this case the roles were reversed. With the human populace at this point having seen dragons, unicorns, pegasi, minotaurs, and bug like demons, the notion that this pony was a time traveler didn’t seem so far-fetched to them while those back home in Equestria were wondering what their friend Whooves was going on about.

“So just like that? Y-y-you admit it?” Jon asked, feeling like something wasn’t quite right here. “You admit that you-- that you can travel... through time?”

“Sure. I mean that’s what you wanted right?” Whooves said. “Why hide it any longer... so yes, I am a time traveler.”

Jon took a moment to think about what this meant. His plan at around this point during the interview was to show Whooves for who he really was by using documentative proof but he already went and did that for him. Had Jon been thinking more clearly he would have realized that he was the one being played, but his ambitions blinded him.

“Well then I uh... I guess you already answered my first question,” Jon said, determined to let Whooves dig himself deeper.

“And what might that be?” Whooves responded.

“Well, I was going to ask where you are from. You know like uh... like if you were from the past ... present or future,” Jon said. “But I guess you already... I mean do tell. How uh... how far in the future are we talking here?”

“Hmmmm let’s see,” Whooves said as he leaned back to count imaginary numbers. “Okay what year is it heeeeere... add to that the amount of time.... then we carry the three... and let’s say it’s been how looong... I’d say around the neighborhood of about... 1000 years in the future.”

“What!” Jon said. It was always assumed on his part that Whooves was from this time period. “You’re a-- you’re from.... 1000 years into the future!?”

“Well... technically 998 now since I’ve lived in Ponyville for a couple of years...” Whooves corrected. “But for the sake of whole numbers yes, let’s say 1000.”

Whooves continued to do what Jon wanted him to do, which made the comedy legend feel more cocky about how far he could take this.

“In that case can I ask why are you-- the thing that I don’t understand in this,” Jon said, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts. “You live 1000 years in the future, you... you manage to build a machine, a machine that can travel through time no less... and your first... uh and the first thing you do is go to the past? Why?”

Half the crowd laughed at this humourous question while the other half were on the edge of their seats in anticipation.

“I’ll be honest with ya Mr. Stewart- coming back here wasn’t exactly... shall we say something I wanted to do,” Whooves answered. “The reason why I’m here is because well... where I come from I’m something of an outlaw.”

“You’re uh... y-you’re a criminal?” Jon asked as he found it increasingly difficult to keep up with all this new information.

“You could say that. Allow me to explain... back where I’m from time travel doesn’t exist anymore,” Whooves elaborated.

“Wait... ‘anymore?’” Jon interrupted.

“Yes... funny that. Thing is, right now as I speak the ability to travel through time is technically possible over in Equestria,” Whooves said.

“A-are you serious!?” Jon asked.

“Yes, but it’s highly inefficient and extremely limited to the public, as to be expected,” Whooves answered. “You see... in Equestria there are such things as magical spells that when used can send the user backwards or forward through time. But here’s the catch... those spells are a bitch to use, and even if you can pull it off it’s hard to properly stabilize. And to top it off they are only found in Castles and libraries of only the most advanced Unicorns in the world.”

“Fucking 1%,” Jon added. After a quick laugh both Jon and the audience consciously decided to just sit and listen as this pony talked about how the ability to traverse through time itself was so common in Equestria.

“I’ll bet that if Celestia herself tried using a time traveling spell she’d only be able to travel back a week,” Whooves continued. “And even then these time travel spells lack the power to maintain themselves... so even if you can use them you’d just sling shot back to your own time after a few seconds of usage... all in all, very ineffective.”

“Barely works... aaand when it does it’s not very productive-- i-it’s the pony equivalent of finding a prize at the bottom of the cereal box,” Jon added. “So time travel spells aren’t even that good... and then there’s you.” Try as he might he found it hard to not get engrossed too much into the forbidden future history of Equestria.

“Yes, I’m sure you may know where this is going. You see, in my time all spells relating to or in support of time travel were destroyed by royal decree,” Whooves went on to say. “Every time travel spell in Equestria, which to be fair wasn’t even that much, was transported to Canterlot where they were destroyed forever. In addition, those who knew of or had at one point used a time traveling spell wiped their memories so that there was no chance of it ever being remade again.”

“Why... why did the... the Castle go to such great lengths to make sure time travel isn't possible?” Jon asked, tempted to start writing notes.

“Oh they have their reasons. You see future Canterlot felt that time travel, under any circumstance, was too dangerous a concept to let exist,” Whooves said as he laid back in his chair after a sigh. “Even now there are those who believe that such power shouldn't have been created in the first place... but in regards to why in the future such spells are not extinct the real reason was because of... the incident.”

There wasn’t a single person alive who knew what he was talking about. Both humans and ponies alike were now begging for Jon to ask the next logical question to continue this train of discussion. He soon did.

“What incident?” Jon asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

“I’m glad you asked! Allow me to share with you some history that has yet to happen!” Whooves said as he turned to face the camera. “For those of you watching over in Canterlot a word of warning... you will be invaded by evil forces... again!”

“Wait! Canterlot’s in danger!?” Jon asked.

“Indeed they are... citizens of Canterlot, heed my warning! You will be attacked by a creature of such overwhelming power and evil that even Celestia herself will be near powerless to stop it!” Whooves warned. “This monster will not only attempt to destroy all of you and everything you’ve grown to love but it will also attempt to destroy the very elements of harmony that keeps all life and existence in constant motion... essentially this evil force will attempt to destroy all of life as we know it!”

“M-my god!” Jon said. “That’s terrible! I don’t... who-- w-w-w-when will this happen!?”

“Oh about 950 years from now,” Whooves idly answered like it was no big deal. “Oh and don’t worry, he doesn’t succeed in this plan... as a matter of fact he fails pretty badly.”

In a sort of morbid way some viewers found this rather funny.

“I don’t... wait, why are you telling me this again?” Jon said, having successfully lost track of perspective.

“To explain why time travel is outlawed, remember?” Whooves answered.

“Riiiight,” Jon said. “So... how does--”

“I’m getting to that... see it’s like this. In the future Canterlot gets invaded. This time by a monster by the name of Retchstrike,” Whooves explained. “I won’t bore you with the details but basically this guy had the bright idea of using his dark magic to go back in time and stop the Elements of Harmony from ever being created. By doing so he promised to plunge all of Equestria into eternal darkness ruled by evil.”

“But... l-like you said, he failed... right?” Jon asked.

“Yes, I wasn’t even alive at the time but as the history books tell it he was ultimately defeated, though to his credit it took every available princess to do it,” Whooves answered. “Anyway, afterwards there were many loooooong debates on whether or not time traveling should exist or not. At the time, and still even now, using magic to travel through time is highly illegal. But there was talk among the Castle on whether or not it should exist at all.”

“So one guy ruined it for everyone else huh?” Jon commented while leaning forward on his elbows. “I guess having this Retchstrike try and destroy the elements made some ponies nervous.”

“Oh you have no idea! Some officials pushed harder for the destruction of these spells than others let me just say,” Whooves explained. “But in the end a conclusion was made several years later and, as I explained previously, all magic relating to time travel was destroyed.”

Taking a second for himself, Jon went over and attempted to decrypt all this new knowledge in his head which was hand delivered to him by Whooves on a silver platter. He barely knew anything about Equestria’s past and now he was being told their future; he could hardly believe it. But once he did a once over a realization popped into his head, both simple and yet enlightening.

“And... that’s why you’re an outlaw,” Jon concluded. “Because even though they destroyed it you discovered how to travel through time.”

“Now you’re getting it!” Whooves complemented.

“Soooo... let me ask you something and be honest with me,” Jon said, leaning forward. “How much could I get for turning you in?”

The crowd laughed at Jon’s brand of humour which also seemed to work on Whooves who was now chuckling to himself.

‘So uh did, uh... did anyone try to stop you or what?” Jon asked.

“Oooh yes they have! I’d give them an A for effort but let’s just say those in power would rather see me back home and in custody,” Whooves answered as he looked over his shoulder at his Tardis. “I mean, I understand where they’re coming from but they’re all so paranoid that someone could use time travel irresponsibly.”

“You know, despite my age I’m not an expert on the concept of time, but I think they may have had a point,” Jon said, followed by a wave of laughter from both the audience and his guest. “Who knows, someone might do something incredibly irresponsible like going into the past and saying all this on national television.”

“Oh, ho, ho! Good point!” Whooves said. While his guest laughed Jon was too busy holding back smiles of his own. Things couldn't have gone more in his favor with Whooves just blissfully setting himself up for a great big fall... or at least that’s what Jon assumed was going on.

“So tell me Whooves... I mean you say that in your time time travel doesn’t exist anymore... and yet here you are,” Jon implied. “So tell me... how did you do it? How did you manage to do the impossible and create a real working time machine?”

“Aaaaaaaah, good question. See this is where things gets interesting,” Whooves said.

“So I’m guessing it wasn’t craigslist then?” Jon asked.

“Oh no, no, nothing so gauche,” Whooves answered as he placed both hind legs on the table in an arching position. “Yes, I think a little stroll down memory lane would be nice... to be honest I’ve always had a thing for the idea of traveling through time... but I believe what really got the ball rolling was my involvement in the great ‘time traveler’s race of ‘89.’”

Grabbing his head in preparation, Jon had a sinking sensation that he was about to learn a whole new load of information about Equestrian history that hadn’t yet happened.

“T-t-the what!?” Jon roared, his eyes so wide he feared they might fall out. “There was a race between time travellers!?”

“That’s right Jon! It was a whole group of us! About nine to ten of the most hardened ponies you’d ever seen! We all wore leather jackets, red scarfs, and aviator goggles, hopped in our individual thinly disguised time machines and raced through the past to see who could travel back the longest before giving up like an extreme game of chicken!” Whooves said, explaining this with wild foreleg movements. “Unfortunately they all died in the process! Double Down, Heat Stroke, Savannah Hill, Ozone Layer, even Fat Bob, all gone, leaving me the only one who survived! When I stopped I found myself 1000 years into the past and decided to stay here and drink away my problems, to try and drown my sorrows and eventually forget that it was I and I alone that caused the deaths of my time traveling colleagues!”

“R... really?” Jon asked, so on the edge of his seat he was inches away from falling down.

“No,” Whooves answered in a deadpan tone. “That would be silly.”

The crowd took this opportunity to laugh at Jon like he was a freshman in highschool. For all his belief that he was setting Whooves up during the interview he fell face first into his trap and paid for it by having his own audience turn on him momentarily.

“Now then if we could be serious here for a second,” Whooves dictated as he sat up in his chair with a face that conveyed the opposite. “The ‘time traveler’s race’ was an event spanning about five years after the royal family destroyed all the time traveling spells. It was an event wherein a large number of Unicorns raced to see who could be the first to develop the magic of time travel again.”

“Interesting,” Jon commented. “Why uh... why did they do this if it was illegal?”

“Oh I’ll tell ya why; in fact I’ll tell you in a one word answer: Greed,” Whooves answered. “You see, the ‘time traveler’s race’ was actually a competition orchestrated by a very wealthy and politically influential pony by the name of Bolt Shock. Bolt Shock you see saw the destruction of all time traveling spells as a waste of potential and a massacre of valuable knowledge. To him it was childish and irresponsible to try and get rid of it so he issued a challenge to any Unicorn; one billion bits to the first pony to successfully reinvent a time traveling spell for him.”

“Wow! That’s... that certainly is a lot of money!” Jon commented while using his notes to fan himself. “This Bolt Shock really sounds like he cared a lot about the preservation of information.”

“Yeeeeaaaah not really,” Whooves rebutted. “It was later revealed that he didn’t care at all about the protection of spells or anything like that, he was just in it for himself. In reality he just wanted somepony to develop a method of time travel so he could use it to expand his empire. You see, Bolt Shock made his money by developing weapons and thought he could harness the power of time travel for himself, or at the very least go into the future to steal trade secrets.”

“And I thought our corporations were bad. I mean we... w-we’ll cut hours so we won’t have to give health insurance but I don’t think we’d rise to the evils of altering the timeline... to... to, to turn a profit by capitalizing on knowledge that might-- holy shit, I’m giving them ideas,” Jon said, using his hand to cover his mouth. “So about the fact that you-- s-so tell me is this... uh, one of the uh, the reasons that you’re considered a criminal in the future? Because you were helping this-- because you were helping Bolt Shock?”

“Nooooo not exactly. What you need to understand is that Bolt Shock kept his true intentions a secret for many years. He always kept his image clean by asserting that what he was asking wasn’t illegal. The loophole being that while using a time traveling spell was severely illegal, there was no law that said one couldn’t own or produce one since it would be redundant what with them not existing anymore,” Whooves went on. “But you see this didn’t stop the royal family from cracking down on Unicorns who tried anyway. This was an important event in Equestrian history because it was seen by some as the Castle overstepping its boundaries. To them anypony trying to create a means for time travel was a criminal and they were sanctioned for doing so.”

“When you talk... about overstepping boundaries what exactly did they do?” Jon asked, adjusting himself in his seat. “I mean did they ever.... um.... did they ever try to come after you... initially or-- what happened?” The question seemed to make Whooves’ smile deepen, exposing his clear white teeth.

“That’s the beauty of it all, Jonathan,” Whooves said as he threw his forelegs to the side like he was imitating the king of the world scene from Titanic. “I was never suspected of trying to build a time machine. While other ponies had their research confiscated or were dragged off for questioning I myself was never even approached by a royal representative. Even though I was public about my disapproval of the Castle’s actions and it was rumoured that I had an interest in and had been working on a way to time travel even before the contest no one truly suspected me.”

“Did-- and why was that?” Jon asked as he leaned in and placed his palm close to his mouth like he was whispering. “Blink twice if you bribed someone.”

Pausing for a bit, Whooves slowly raised his hoof and placed it in the center of his forehead as he too leaned in.

“I’ll tell you why Jonathan... I’m not a Unicorn,” Whooves answered also in pretend whisper. “You know how here in this Equestria you have towns mostly comprised of one race of pony? That’s nothing compared to where I’m from. Even in the future the topic of classicism is still very much an issue. Basically I was never even on the radar because the idea that time travel could be attained by a lumbering, block-headed Earthpony was more inconceivable a concept than time travel itself.”

Hearing this made Jon feel a slight twang of guilt. Even as someone as open minded as Jon he had to admit he had similar prejudices about Equestrian beings; prejudices that weren’t unlike what Whooves was talking about.

“Where I’m from, time travel was thought by most ponies to be only possible through the horn of a Unicorn,” Whooves continued. “The idea that an Earthpony could build a time machine from scratch by himself was a thought that nopony could believe in... well... that’s not entirely true... there was one pony who believed in me.”

“Really?” Jon said with some preconceived suspicions. “And who would that be?”

As if he was testing the patience of both Jon and the easily enraptured audience, Whooves took a moment to tilt back his head, as if the further he reclined the better he’d be able to continue his anecdote.

“First a little context... as I’ve said I’ve always been fascinated with the concept of time travel; ever since a very young age I always felt like it was something most interesting. Just for fun I first attempted to build a time machine my first year of college because as we all know nothing said ‘hello ladies’ quite like riding up in a time machine,” Whooves jested which made him have to pause and wait for the crowd to stop laughing. “A few years in I just stopped and never really thought about it again, mostly because I had other research and obligations that needed attending to. Fast forward another few years and then the challenge by Bolt Shock was issued to the world. Obviously his one billion bits was very tempting but what really got me back into the idea was one pony.”

Stopping once more for dramatic effect, Whooves could hear the sound of chairs squeaking as those in attendance leaned in to better hear.

“And that pony was a dear mate of mine,” Whooves said. “My mentor, my colleague and former professor, the great pony logician and an even greater friend... Zenith.”

This was a rare moment in Daily Show history where, during an episode of Equestrian Interviews, both humans and ponies watching had no idea what the guest was referring to.

“W-wait... who?” Jon said, asking what everyone in the audience was thinking.

“Oh Jonathan... back where I’m from there isn’t a pony alive who doesn’t know who Zenith is. If I had to regionalize an example for you I’d say that Zenith was closely related to a human you might’ve heard of called Leonardo da Vinci. In my time he’s a world famous philosopher known for his inventions, teachings, and advancements in modern science, becoming the benefactor of our species. Also, fun fact, he’s a descendant of Twilight Sparkle,” Whooves chuckled. “And, if I can be a bit biased for a moment, he is one of the greatest ponies to have ever lived. Back in my time there are those who would travel half way across the world just for a chance to ask him a single question and I was lucky enough to be his protege. To put it simply, because of his idealistic principles, Zenith will be remembered as one of the most influential ponies to ever exist.”

“But is he smart enough to figure out why kids like the taste of cinnamon toast crunch? Because personally I just... I-I-I I just don’t get it!” Jon commented, the reference lost on Whooves but still funny enough to make him laugh. “So is he.... is he uh, the reason-- is he the one who got you to finish your time machine?”

“Oh he did more than just that. I had him as my mentor when I was starting out in university. He claimed to see great potential in me and inspired and challenged me to prove to the world what we Earthponies could do. In fact, when I first told him about my idea for time travel he was skeptical and thought me a fool,” Whooves continued. “But when I showed him my notes and ideas he was astounded. It wouldn't be till much later, after I had left the college, did the opportunity arise for me to show my skills. And the rest is history: Bolt Shock issued his challenge, Zenith encouraged me to finish my device, no pony from the Castle tried to stop me, and I was the only one left to finish the race... which I did.”

“Making you the first pony ever to build a time machine,” Jon added.

“The first Earthpony to build a time machine!” Whooves corrected.

“Why does that matter?” Jon asked.

“Oh, ho, ho, ho it matters! Remember how I said classicism is a big thing in my time? Well one of the reasons why Zenith took me under his wing was because we’re both Earthpony scientists,” Whooves explained. “He wanted to use me as an example that Earthponies are just as capable of cultural advancements as Unicorns if not better. He thought the idea of one Earthpony doing what hundreds of Unicorns could not was just oh so satisfying.”

“He wanted to make you a martyr did he?” Jon asked while stroking his chin.

“Yes because you see the idea that higher educated professions are Unicorn dominated and that Earthponies are built for manual labor still very much exists in the future as it does now,” Whooves answered. “And Zenith hated that idea... almost as much as he hates Unicorns.”

“I uh... I can certainly understand... why your mentor wouldn't like negative stereotypes,” Jon commented. “But to actually go as far as to say he hated a race of ponies is... well that just seems a bit superficial.”

“Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t hate them he’s just... not a fan of them. Zenith is a great pony with revolutionary ideas and a sharp mind that will be greatly missed once he passes on... but he is not without his faults,” Whooves explained. “He finds Unicorns infuriatingly arrogant and elitist. To him there’s a reason why the Earthponies get Ponyville at the bottom of a gorge while the Unicorns get Canterlot atop a mountain...oh and speaking of which don’t even get him started on the Castle.”

“Do you mean he doesn't like how it looks or-- because I’ve been to the Castle before,” Jon reminded. “And....er, I’m not an interior decorator but... it is pretty tacky.”

“More like he doesn't like those in the Castle,” Whooves corrected as the audience still chuckled.

“Sooo not a fan of the monarchy is he?” Jon asked.

“Oh not even a little bit, he-- I was being facetious before but when it comes to the royal family... he hates them for sure!” Whooves said.

“Y-you know as someone who uh, who technically works for-- or rather works with them... I gotta say I’m not understanding his disdain here,” Jon said. “I’ve met Celestia and her sister a few times now and I... I, I, I gotta say they are some of the most compassionate... and well adjusted leaders I’ve ever met, and I know Bill Clinton.”

“Well to understand my teacher you need to also understand that our world is different than your own,” Whooves commented. “You see, in the coming 1000 years technology in Equestria evolves and changes as science becomes a more dominate field... but here is the thing... historically speaking the Castle and those who reside in it are more on the traditionalistic side who feel that magic is the answer to everything.”

“And I’m going to guess that your mentor Zenith is on the side of science rather than magic,” Jon assessed. “What with his whole not liking Unicorns thing.”

“It’s not just because the Castle is ruled by Unicorns! You see what you also need to understand is that ponies like Celestia, Luna, Cadance and all the like, feel that magic is absolute and will be the thing that ultimately governs the world and is the authority over the land,” Whooves said in defense of his friend. “Whereas Zenith believed that the Castle’s tendency to cling to the old ways was ultimately detrimental to our way of life. He felt that science and the advancement of pony-made technology was the way of the future and things like magic and monarchy were getting in the way of progress to the point where if there were no magic rulers science could expand and evolve at a much faster pace. He spent his whole life fighting the Castle on nearly every decision they ever made.”

“So basically this Zenith guy is a pony version of Galileo, okay I get it,” Jon surmised. “And seeing as how... a-as you said he is remembered as one of uh... one of history's greatest philosophers I guess there were a lot of ponies who felt the same way as he did.”

“It’s true! Since he was an Earthpony talking out against the Castle and campaigning for alternative means of fundamental values that anypony could apply, rather than magic being exclusive to Unicorns who were in charge, he really had a diverse following of young and old disenfranchised masses,” Whooves explained with a proud look about him. “In fact, his social and political views became so popular that he gathered a few of his colleagues and developed a society based in Canterlot that served as challengers to the Castle’s teachings called ‘Terra Equinity.’ This society was originally for Earthponies only and was established mainly to help said Earthponies rise up from oppression. But as time went on they became so popular that anypony could join and the focus shifted a bit and became the leading force for the advancements of free thought and the sharing of scientific ideas, sparking an entire generation of scientists... such as myself.”

“I can imagine how it must feel... to create something and have it evolve into something far bigger than yourself,” Jon understood. “W-was it Zenith’s decision to... make the society more open?”

“Honestly no; he didn’t like the idea,” Whooves answered almost embarrassingly. “He preferred that it stay Earthponies only like himself and the original founders. But as time went on the general consensus was that they’d be stronger and would have more of an impact if its members were more diverse... if he had his way it wouldn't have happened but he was outnumbered.”

“Did he go all Archie Bunker on their decision?” Jon playfully asked, quickly changing gears so he could put on his best Brooklyn accent. “Hey there eh, Edith, what’s with all dem Unicorn and Pegasusus types wanting to join all of a sudden. Eh, der goes da neighborhood!”

“I... don’t know what any of that was,” Whooves dismissed. “But yes, he wasn’t happy with the idea, though personally I didn’t share his view. By the time I joined, the organization had found its way to so many other cities our influence was stronger than ever before...”

“Oh, you’re a member too?” Jon asked.

“Yes I am, one might say I didn’t have a choice!” Whooves chuckled as he shook his head. “Usually it takes a few years to join but Zenith pulled every string he could and pulled on every hoof he saw till I was admitted on day one.”

“Now are you sure Zenith was a philosopher?” Jon asked. “Because going by how insistent he was on having you join it sounds like, uh... sounds like he was more of a gym employee trying to get you to sign up for a two year contract.”

“No, no I assure you all he wanted was for me to be apart of the most influential group there was,” Whooves commented. “He wanted to make sure I had every access to the same contacts he had.”

“Sounds like he really wanted what was best for both you and the society,” Jon commented.

“Well actually by the time I joined he wasn’t as involved as he used to be. What he really wanted was for me to have every available resource that there was,” Whooves corrected. “Though at the same time, yes, having me join the organization was beneficial to them as well. After all... not to brag but I was the first pony ever to build a time machine.”

“Yeah about that why-- what I don’t understand is... I mean you... you made your time traveling machine to win the eh, the time traveler's race, right?” Jon asked. “Then why did you travel back in time instead of giving your invention to Mr. Bolt Shock and collecting your winnings? Because I tell ya if I had a chance to win a billion dollars... I uh... I wouldn’t go. ‘You know being rich does sound nice... but at the same time I’ve always wanted to live among cavemen.’”

“Well you see after I finished it I wanted to be sure it would actually work,” Whooves explained. “So for a while I did some small tests and calibrations to make sure I dotted all my ‘i’s and crossed all my ‘t’s. Then it was discovered that ol’ Bolt Shock was going to use whoever gave him the power of time travel for his own benefit so I decided not to give it to him.”

“You know that is very responsible of you both as a uh, uh, uh a pony... and as a man of science but at the same time I feel like I should remind you... one billions bits... there-- that’s a lot of money,” Jon said. “But no you made... the right decision and I commend you for that. But going back a bit... you didn’t answer my question.”

“Excuse me?” Whooves countered.

“I said you didn’t answer my question,” Jon repeated. “You did explain why you never gave your invention to Bolt Shock... but no where in your answer did you explain why you went 1000 years into the past.”

Even though Jon’s intention was to trap him, Whooves just shrugged it off like it was nothing but absentmindedness on his part.

“Oh that; no reason,” Whooves answered. “Although to be honest between the Castle destroying possibly useful advancement spells and underhanded business ponies as corrupt as they were wealthy trying to use underhanded tactics to advance their net worth... I just felt like a change of scenery was necessary.”

At the corner of Jon’s eyes he could see nodding heads from those in the audience. His explanation had convinced everyone that his reasons for leaving his time were for the best and of the best intentions... all except Jon.

“Yeah you see... I don’t believe you,” Jon shot back. “I don’t believe for a second that you... you, you, you just up and left everything behind: Your uh, your research, your life, your friends, your family... just... left all of that to start a new life in present day Ponyville.”

“Well... you can believe what you want but that’s the truth of the matter,” Whooves maintained as he leaned back to look over at the audience. “And unless you can prove otherwise... I remain steadfast in my assertions. Or as we called it back at the society, ‘terra firma.’”

For a moment there, in stark contrast to how things usually went, Jon was starting to lose the audience. The way he harped on Whooves for his decision and branded him as a liar made him look like a bully by comparison but Jon Stewart would never pursue a point like this if he didn’t have something to back it up.

“Well see here’s the thing... before doing an interview I like to do a little... research on my guest,” Jon revealed which forced Whooves to turn his attention back over to Jon. “And you are no exception.”

Unable to contain their excitement, the audience made an audible wooing sound like they were an alarm that was giving warning of imminent danger.

“Is this right?” Whooves said, his smile still cemented on his face. “Well doooo tell Jon! What did you find?”

“To be perfectly honest,” Jon said as he reached under his desk and produced a manilla envelope filled with papers. “Not much.”

With a toss of his hand Jon flung the small stack of papers onto the desk where it partially spilled out in front of him. Whooves knew what it was so he didn’t feel the need to examine it, though from here he saw headers that read things like “Proof of registry” and “Home owner’s deed.”

“Oh how interesting! You found my files!” Whooves chuckled like he didn’t care. “These are supposed to be private... might I ask where did you get these?”

“Mayor Mare gave them to me. Right before I came back to my world I took a trip down to Ponyville City Hall and made a... personal request to the mayor to let me look at your records,” Jon answered. “It wasn’t exactly easy and I’ll admit I had to twist her arm a little bit here and there but eventually we settled on an agreement... let’s just say I owe her a big endorsement the next time she runs for office. For some reason she had a hard time finding anything about you so I took every documentation she had and had my staff rifle through, looking for anything interesting.”

“How scandalous! Although I must say I am curious to learn what you found out,” Whooves said as he placed his hoof on his own record and pushed it back to Jon. “So tell me... what did they reveal? What did you learn?”

“Barely anything... just like I suspected I would,” Jon said as he opened his file. “Says here your name is Time Turner and that you live in the western end of Ponyville... that’s basically it. You haven’t applied for any licensing nor have you registered yourself to vote... the only thing I see here is a housing permit and a registration for citizenship. But that’s it, no birth certificate, no dental or hospital records... in fact after about two years there’s nothing. All there is here is just a few recorded years of existence and then after that... there’s no records of you at all.”

“Well I think everyone watching already knows the answer to that,” Whooves said. “It’s because at a certain point I didn't exist yet... although I must say I am impressed by your detective work; I assume you were going to spring this on me had I not admitted to being a time traveler from the start huh?”

Even though he was right Jon flipped a page and continued his interrogation, ignoring his question.

“Later when I asked Mayor Mare why you were allowed to live in her town with a mysteriously absent history reference she told me that it didn't matter,” Jon added. “According to her there is no strict regulation on citizens who can’t produce their background so long as they remain active members of the community.”

“Yet another reason why I chose this point in time to come back to; they’re much less frigid about trivial things like background checks. A fake name and a can-do attitude and bam you're in! Back where I come from if somepony can’t at least produce three different co-signed affidavits about where they went to middle school they can’t even get a parking permit,” Whooves interjected. “You wanna know the best part? If I were to let that file stay in records long enough, which I probably won't... but if I did and it found its way into the hooves of somepony from around my time they wouldn't think that it was the same person as me. Their prejudicial minds would sooner convince them that there was a pony who just looked like me rather than accept that an Earthpony built a time machine.”

“Well be that as it may... this file and its incongruities... pretty much proves that you’re from the future,” Jon said as he tucked the file back under his desk.

“And again, that has already been determined,” Whooves said as he turned to speak to the audience. “Sheesh, is this guy always like this?”

As the crowd laughed Jon took this momentary break to reach under his desk once more. Like before when he came back to his desk he had another manilla folder in his hand; but this time it wasn’t Whooves’.

“Before I make my next point I just want to say one thing about your file, Whooves,” Jon said as he examined the new folder’s front cover. “I noticed that while there are barely any records of you there was something else I noticed... or rather didn’t notice. An absent piece of evidence that I almost missed the first time time around.”

“And that would be what?” Whooves said amusingly with both hooves under his chin as he leaned into the table.

“Dr. Whooves,” Jon began. “You don’t have a marriage licence.”

For the first time in the interview Whooves’ smile faded, his eyes now slowly going to the folder in Jon’s hands like he was trying to read through it with X-ray vision.

“Now how can someone claim to be married to someone if they don’t have a marriage license?” Jon asked with no intentions of waiting for Whooves to answer as he lifted the new envelope of papers in his hand. “So to see if perhaps I was wrong I went and looked at the files of another Ponyville resident... your wife, Derpy Hooves.”

Again he flung the collection of papers onto the desk but unlike last time the second it touched the table Whooves immediately slammed his hoof atop its mass and pushed it away like he was afraid of what was inside.

“And do you know what I found? Her records are virtually the same as yours. Specifically how after a certain amount of years it just stops and there’s no evidence of her ever existing... at exactly the same year as yours,” Jon added with a smile of his own, which made Whooves’ nose flare up a bit. “And since we already know why your records stop after a while we can apply the same logic to Derpy’s as well. There by I can conclude without a doubt that when you traveled back in time you did so with another pony... that pony being your so called wife Derpy Hooves.”

Almost everyone watching knew who Derpy was in one form or another. A large group of ponies knew her as that quirky but lovable mailmare who went around delivering letters while most human viewers remembered her as the very first pony Jon ever interviewed on his show. Either way the gravity of the situation was evident to most viewers, making the back and forth between Whooves and Jon all the more interesting.

For a while the two on stage just glared at each other but just when things looked like they might start getting awkward the good doctor raised his forelegs and began to slowly clap his hooves together. His smile thusly returned as he gave his human host a small round of applause.

“Bravo Jonathan, Bravo!” Whooves said. “Alright, you got me! I confess; Derpy Hooves isn’t from this time at all! She’s from 1000 years in the future just like me!”

Jon had to resist every urge to reach over and grab his guest by the lapel. There he was freely confessing to transporting both himself and Derpy back 1000 years into the past despite having earlier that day told Jon he couldn't do the same in order to save Trixie. Jon was mad but concentrated on channeling that anger and using it later when needed; he still hadn’t used his secret weapon yet.

“Yeah, back in my time Derpy is actually known as ‘Ditzy Doo.’ Her mom owned a cafe near the campus and would sometimes operate a kiosk on school grounds and that’s where we met. I was your typical poor college goer so I didn’t have enough to pay for my tea. Derpy gave me free food and in exchange I tutored her,” Whooves went on to say. “Remember how I said for a while I stopped trying to develop my time machine? That’s because I met Derpy and well... when you’re in a loving relationship silly stuff like, partying, comics, and trying to develop an ultra advanced machine that can override mother nature’s law of time and travel back through the space time continuum kind of fall to the waste side. Years later when I tried making the time machine at the behest of my mentor Zenith I did so because I thought if I won the billion bits I could support us for the rest of our lives.”

Parts of his story didn’t add up, at least not by Jon’s reckoning. He thought about calling him out on the incongruities but he felt that doing so would be somewhat premature. So instead he played along with his sappy soap opera of a story for now.

“Sounds like you two really hit it off. But tell me something... don’t you think it’s a tad... oh I don’t know irresponsible and against some kind of... moral or ethical code to alter the past like this?” Jon questioned with a forced smile and gritted teeth, making sure to add extra emphasis at a couple of moments during his questions to try and relay to Whooves the level of hypocrisy that was his decision making. “I mean... aren’t you scared you’ll... oh I don’t know you’ll do something to damage the flow of time liking accidentally preventing your parents from getting together during the enchantment under the sea dance?”

As per usual his reference flew right over the head of the guest and landed right in the middle of a section of viewers known as the humans.

“I’m not... exactly sure what you mean but it’s funny that you should mention my parents because as it just happens I’ve located both mine and Derpy’s ancestors from around this time,” Whooves revealed.

“You’re kidding me!” Jon sighed.

“No, no I’m quite serious. Interestingly enough my great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather lives very close to Ponyville but I never have to worry about running into him. You see, Grandpa Whooves lives over in Cloudsdale; turns out I have some Pegasus in my blood,” Whooves answered. “Anyhow, after some quick research I learned that he stayed there all his life and never left so I’m 100% certain to never run into him as long as I don’t sprout wings and pay him a visit. Funnily enough I actually managed to see a photo of him and the likeness is uncanny! I’m a chip off the old block as they say; but aside from the wings I’m his spitting image right down to the same cutie mark! Only while my cutie mark represents my love and interest in the concept of general relativity and quantum entanglement... he... literally produces and sells hour glasses.”

“And uh... and... w-what about... what about Derpy?” Jon said, reminding himself that he was mad at his guest even though he couldn't stop laughing at his explanation. “Has she met with a uh... with a past relative?”

“Now there’s... an interesting story. But before I go into that I need you to do a favor for me,” Whooves said, which prompted Jon to give him a nod as an answer. “Very good! Now then... think back to when you interviewed my Derpy.... do you recall what it was that she said before her segment ended?”

It took Jon a moment to get past the oddity of his question. Afterward it was just a matter of trying to recall an interview the had happened what seemed like years ago.

“Uuuuuh lets seeee,” Jon sighed. “Uuuuuh OH RIGHT! I believe... she uh, she said something about saying ‘hi’ to someone back home... THAT’S RIGHT! The last thing she said was hello to her child who she claimed was watching her at home.”

“Correct! The child in question is ‘Dinky Doo’ who is mine and Derpy’s child,” Whooves explained. “We had her shortly after arriving in this time frame.”

“Oh well that’s very nice for you!” Jon barely managed to say before the crowd began to applaud. “As a parent myself I know the joys of having a child with the one you love most in the world and watching as they slowly overpower you.”

“Yes, it’s truly a wonderful thing,” Whooves agreed. “Although I must say as a mostly stay-at-home dad it’s hard keeping up with an eight year old with a seemingly unlimited supply of energy.”

“Yeah I know what you mean. My kid is about... hey wait a second,” Jon said, now having realized something. “I thought you said you had Dinky when you first arrived in Ponyville... if that’s the case how is she eight years old?”

“Oh that’s right, I forgot to mention that she’s adopted,” Whooves added. “When we found her she was five and still living at an orphanage.”

“Ooooh I see,” Jon commented. “See I thought you and Derpy were her biological parents.”

“Weeeeell nooooo I’m not,” Whooves said. “But she is however related to Derpy.”

“Wait, wait, wait...H-how... how is that even possible?” Jon stammered. “You just said that she’s... oh... OH! You don’t mean--”

“Oh indeed I do my dear Jonathan,” Whooves said. “Marvel at the interconnectivity of all things for you see Dinky Doo is in actuality the great, great, great, great, great, great, grandmother of Derpy Hooves!”

An uproar of murmuring filled the room as Jon tried to make sense of this in his head.

“Are you saying... that Derpy is her own great, great... uh, great, great Grandma?” Jon asked.

“You’re about a few ‘greats’ off but I’ll let you slide... I mean YES! Yes that’s what I’m saying,” Whooves revealed once more. “Ah, I remember it as if it were yesterday... it was our first year in Ponyville and even though we found our new home we still felt as if something was missing. During one of our secluded walks through the countryside we happened upon a foster home filled with tiny adorable fillies of all shapes and sizes.”

Nearly everyone listening including Jon knew where this was going and yet at the same time couldn't believe it.

“It was there that Derpy spotted a little filly by the name of Dinky. And let me tell ya her heart just melted. She instantly fell in love with the child and begged me to agree to the adoption. And as anypony will tell you I have a hard time saying ‘no’ to her so of course I agreed,” Whooves added. “And of course since this is a much simpler time the husband and wife who ran the orphanage had no objections to letting us adopt Dinky despite our lacking in proper documentation, though they still sent someone for the next year to check up on us and make sure the child was doing fine. And I must admit raising a daughter felt more rewarding than the machine I built that brought me to her. I always like to say that I have two hearts. One goes out to Derpy and the other goes to Dinky.”

“I can’t-- that just seems so... I-I’m speechless,” Jon commented.

“Trust me, I felt the same way when I discovered that Dinky and Derpy were related. I started to suspect it once I noticed some similarities and with how everypony in town would say how they had the same eyes... not to mention they shared last names,” Whooves continued. “A quick DNA swab later I confirmed it.”

“Okay again...I mean this all sounds very nice but again aren’t you at all concerned that you’re interfering too much in the flow of time!?” Jon asked in a slightly annoyed tone. “I mean Derpy being her own Grandmother... what-- who knows what irreversible consequences you’ve set into motion!”

In truth, Jon wasn’t angry about his manipulation with the past but rather his refusal to do so for his own problems.

“For your information I have a pretty in depth working knowledge of Equestrian History,” Whooves explained. “And as a reference point I can assure you that my coming back in time hasn’t had any major effect on the timeline; I guess we’re not important enough to cause that big a difference. But yes, do not worry because I assure you I try my best to keep me and my Derpy on a very low profile to avoid such an outcome... multi-national television interviews notwithstanding.”

“What exactly do you mean when you say ‘as a reference point’?” Jon asked, after waiting for the chuckling from the audience to subside.

“Hm, what I mean is... well it’s like this. As I’m sure you know a civilization’s record keeping only gets more advanced as time goes on,” Whooves explained. “And since I’m from the future and have access to a time machine I have the benefit that is infinite hindsight- basically, I know a lot of things that haven’t happened yet.”

This was more or less exactly what Jon needed. For his plan to work he needed to keep his own time machine away from him and have Whooves himself prove to the world that he was a time traveler which he seemed all too eager to do.

“Actually now that I think about it... historically speaking Derpy and I aren’t the only ones with an interesting marriage,” Whooves said as he rocked back and forth in his chair. “There are those whose joined union end up shaping the future quite significantly.

“Is that right?” Jon said who was admittedly very curious. “Anyone I know?”

“As a matter of fact... yes there are,” Whooves said. “Just as an example... in terms of your Equestrian Interviews, how about we look at... the last guest you had on your show and the first guest you had on your show.”

Pausing for just a moment, Jon found it effortlessly simple to remember these two individuals.

“You mean Spike and Rarity?” Jon asked.

“Yes them,” Whooves said. “In the future those two get married... to each other.”

For the moment Jon found himself speechless; which was just as well since the crowd filled the void of silence by making hollering noises in excitement.

“Wait... what!?” Jon blurted. “Spike and Rarity are-- I mean they’re going to get... those two end up shaking up!?”

“That’s correct! Of course it won’t be till many years from now but let’s just say after about a decade of trying Spike finally succeeds in getting Rarity to notice him,” Whooves said as he turned to face the camera. “Spike if you’re watching, my advice is never give up, my friend. All your efforts eventually pay off!”

“So-- wait... Spike has had a crush on Rarity?” Jon said in bewilderment.

“One of history's greatest kept secrets, yes,” Whooves answered with a chuckle. “For many years it has been one sided but eventually Rarity begins to see Spike as more than just a friend and the two share mutual romantic feelings for each other.”

“I just... wow I uh... I would never have guessed that those two,” Jon struggled to formulate his thoughts. “I mean... aside from the age difference there’s also... you know?”

“The fact that the two are different species?” Whooves said.

“Well actually uh... I was going to say Spike eats gems so you’d think that... given her business she wouldn’t want him around but... yeah that too!” Jon confirmed. “I mean can you imagine the kids?”

“Actually I can... Spike and Rarity’s bloodline continues even in my time,” Whooves said once again turning to face the camera. “Oh yeah, Rarity if you’re watching yes... yes you and Spike have children. Three of them in fact.”

“Wait! Those two actually do have kids!” Jon exclaimed. “H-h-how... how is that possible?”

“I could sit here and explain to you the intricacies of cross species embryology but in the interest of time I’ll just cut to the end and say that they have three kids... a Unicorn, a dragon, and a pony dragon hybrid,” Whooves added.

“That’s the... that sounds incredible,” Jon said.

“Oh you don’t know the half of it; those two have no idea what they kickstart. You see, in my time there’s a new species of ponies that’s fastly becoming more and more common like Unicorns, Earthponies, and Pegasi... here’s a hint, this new species of pony has scales rather than fur,” Whooves hinted much to the surprise of Jon who knew not what to say. “Actually there’s a famous story regarding when Rarity first became pregnant... according to legend when she was giving birth to her first child Twilight Sparkle was there as her midwife. She did so not only to help her friend but because she was curious to see their child; fascinated by the thought that it could be some new hybrid.”

“It’s heartening to hear that even in the near future she’s still a nerd,” Jon teased. “Soooo... what happened?”

“You mean the birth? Well she was right, their first child, a healthy baby boy, was half pony half Dragon,” Whooves said, the crowd cheering in excitement. “As the story goes the first thing Twilight said was ‘congratulations Rarity,’” followed by “‘mind if I ran a few tests on him?’ Suffice it to say she wasn’t their midwife for her two other births.”

It took every ounce of self control Jon had and it still wasn’t enough to keep him from laughing at the top of his lungs along with his audience. Seeing this didn’t influence Whooves in the slightest as he barely waited for Jon to stop before continuing the interview.

“Also, speaking of Twilight she also gets married,“ Whooves added while Jon was just finishing up his last surge of laughter.

“Ooooh let me guess, not to be outdone by her friend Twilight shacks up with a... a, a, a fish or something,” Jon teased.

“No, no she marries a Unicorn like herself and the two have four children together, a son and three daughters,“ Whooves revealed. “Yep, she’s the last of her circle of friends to get hitched, but eventually she ties the knot with her husband who at the time is the head knight of the Canterlot Guards.”

“Wow really? You uh-- for a book worm like her I’m surprised she went for a jock,” Jon commented. “You said she was the last of her friends... does... does that mean the other members of the elements of harmony--”

“Get married? Yes they do,” Whooves interrupted. “Fun fact, out of the Mane six two of them actually get married to each other.”

“OH NO WAY!” Jon blurted while simultaneously laughing nervously. “You... you have to tell me! I-I I gotta know.”

“Sorry Jon, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you in the dark about this one,” Whooves said as he slowly turned his head to the camera. “However... they know who they are.”

“Can you at least give me a hint?” Jon begged.

“Very well but just one... they’re the two with the most sexual tension between them,” Whooves said.

“...I think... I might know who you’re talking about,” Jon said which caused Whooves to lean in on one elbow and give a wink.

“We all do,” Whooves rebutted, causing Jon to laugh at how he phrased his response. Hearing about his friends in such a way was both entertaining and enlightening to the point where more than once Jon caught himself actually enjoying the interview. It was during these moments that Jon had to remind himself as to why he was here. At this point his plan was going swimmingly and it was for that exact reason Jon felt as if something was wrong.

“Wait... wait a minute,” Jon thought as Whooves took a drink from his Daily Show mug. “This is too easy.”

Interview: Please welcome to the show Dr. Whooves (2/6)

From the beginning Jon’s goal was simple. Get Dr. Whooves onto his show and not only expose him as a time traveler but to somehow get him to admit to it. Surprisingly this objective was attained within the first minute of the interview and yet Jon wasn’t satisfied.

“What are you up to Whooves?” Jon thought while the crowd’s laughter brought him more time to think. “Why are you making this too easy for me?”

The trick to Jon’s plan reaching fruition was for either he or Whooves to provide undeniable proof that he was a time traveler without actually time traveling. At this point Jon had thought he had adequately obtained this but the fact that he was still here and the interview was still going meant that the unseen forces awaiting him in the studio had deemed his efforts unsatisfactory.

He needed more. If he was to get his way he would need more than what was said here today and at this point Jon found it hard to concentrate on his next move while he was simultaneously baffled as to why his guest was being so forthcoming. But since Whooves was so eager to answer his questions Jon decided to just go for it.

“Can I ask you something, Dr. Whooves?” Jon asked.

“Hmmm, why so formal?” Whooves responded, getting no immediate response back. “Oh go ahead.”

“Whooves... why are... why are you doing all of this?” Jon finally asked. “You claim to be from the future and yet you’re just frivolously... divulging all this information about what’s going to happen without any regard to if it will affect the timeline.”

The way Jon changed gears to a more serious tone was a shift that was not shared by Whooves who continued to idly rock back in his chair looking as apathetic as Jon was implying.

“I mean you said it yourself... where you’re from time travel is illegal for just this reason... and yet you... you, you, you’re telling me all this without any fear of repercussion,” Jon added. “Aren’t... aren’t you afraid that after the show you’ll be arrested... and tried for numerous violations or anything like that?”

In response to his honest question Whooves began to chuckle. That chuckle soon escalated to a full on laughter so powerful he felt the need to hold onto his stomach while flailing his hind legs in the air as he arched himself back in his chair. Those in attendance failed to see what was so funny, their curiosity made them eagerly await for the guest of the evening to finish his bellowing so he could answer Jon’s question.

“Oh Jon... Jon, Jon, Jon, Jon, Jon... there’s a reason why I am remembered as one of the most brilliant ponies in Equestrian history,” Whooves said. “You see Jon... to answer your question: the reason why I’ve said the things I’ve said today is because I like you; and I just wanted to make things easy for you. You see, I feel comfortable in answering all of your questions truthfully because I know... that nothing I’ve said will get me in trouble.”

“Are... are you kidding me?” Jon asked. “You’ve said things here today that... that may have permanently altered the timeline of Equestria! You revealed facts and events that haven’t even happened yet! How do you figure that you’re in the clear here?”

“Well... you tell me Jon,” Whooves said. “You claim that I have broken not only the laws of Equestria but the laws of space and time and yet... I’m still here. You would think Celestia would have swooped down and seized me by now and yet here I am.”

The way Whooves accurately assessed the situation came dangerously close to what Jon had in mind. It was enough to make Jon freeze, unable to speak, only listen.

“Allow me to explain Jon... everything that has been discussed during this interview is just hearsay. Everything; me admitting to being a time traveler, revealing the future events of our friends, my claiming to have brought Derpy from the future, just hearsay,” Whooves explained. “Your so-called ‘evidence’ about me that you got from the mayor, circumstantial at best. All that proves is that after a certain point my records went missing... not because I’m a time traveler but because I just misplaced my files.”

He had a point, the evidence against him wasn’t as ironclad as Jon would have liked to believe. For Jon this explained why the interview went as long as it did.

“B-but you admitted it!” Jon exclaimed. “You admitted to being a time traveler!”

“Yes, yes I did but as I’m sure you know one shouldn't believe everything they hear on television,” Whooves said as he turned to face the camera. “In fact, I hereby revoke everything I’ve said up to this point. That’s right, I’m withdrawing my claim to being a time traveler from the future and admit that it was all just a clever ruse I made up for the show!”

Unable to formulate words let alone coherent sentences, Jon was stunned to see Whooves back pedal the way he did. What got him nervous was not only was he lying and he knew it, but he made it seem so plausible that he was innocent. He was scared that he might actually get away with it.

“You see Jon!? See how easy that was! If I wanted to I could walk away from this interview right now and head home and no one could stop me!” Whooves explained. “I mean what proof does anypony have that I am indeed a time traveler? None! Everything is just circumstantial! And I know that was your main problem from the very outset of all this, wasn’t it, Jon?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Jon said, trying to play his correct assumptions off.

“Oh pish posh my Jewish friend; don’t play coy! You see I like to think that I’m good at placing myself in the position of others to see things from their point of view. And from where I sit getting me to prove that I'm a time traveler would be very difficult,” Whooves accurately explained. “Of course, the most logical way of doing so would be to literally have me travel through time but therein lies the catch twenty two! The double edged sword of your plan! Because if I did use my time machine here and I demonstrated to the world that I can traverse space as well as time then I’m breaking the law... so why would I agree to it!?”

Fear began to set in and Jon was slowly realizing just how self-aware of the situation Whooves was. For all his peculiar mannerisms Jon underestimated just how smart he was; toying with Jon like a game of chess he was destined to win.

“Which begs the question, how does one prove that someone else is a time traveler without actually time traveling... because while I could just hop into my Tardis here and give a demonstration you would never allow it because the moment I do that I can just time travel my way to safety,” Whooves said as a confused yet enraptured audience looked on with anticipation. “Well... like I said before, I rather like you Jonathan so again I’ll make this easy for you... I hereby reinstate my previous declaration and admit that I Dr. Whooves, otherwise known as Time Turner, am indeed a time traveler from 1000 years into the future.”

With a fling of his forelegs, Whooves raised his hooves into the air to pose dramatically, as if doing so made his claims all the more believable. Having once again asserted himself the crowd was buzzing while Jon was left wondering what his guest was up to.

“But... l-like you’ve already said your claims are just what they are... just claims,” Jon pointed out in anticipation. “Without hard evidence there’s no way to back it up.”

“Indeed so! I believe it was you who once said that... proof is the only thing that matters,” Whooves reminded him. “So that is why without using my Tardis here... I will show you this proof.”

Jon found Whooves’ promise frightening and confusing. It was already established that the only way to do this was through literal time travel and Jon made sure that when Celestia teleported him to his studio he came by himself and without his precious device. Whooves may have thought that the Tardis on stage was his but this was not the case. Jon wanted to make sure that when he came here he was truly alone.

“How... how exactly do you plan on doing this?” Jon asked.

“Wiiiiiith... THIS!” Whooves roared before quickly shoving his hoof into his jacket pocket and producing a slightly cylindrical object.

“W-what is that thing?” Jon asked.

“Oh this?” Whooves said as recoiled his extended foreleg to bring the probe-like objected closer to him. “It’s nothing really, just my trusty screwdriver.”

“That’s not a screw driver,” Jon corrected.

“No you’re right, it isn’t,” Whooves said as he pressed a button that made it extend a few inches. “Because a screw driver can’t do this!”

Before Jon could comment on the odd looking device he quickly pressed a button, causing a blinding light to engulf the area so quickly that no one could react accordingly. By the time everything returned to normal Whooves was already in the middle of his previous declaration.

With a fling of his forelegs Whooves raised his hooves into the air to pose dramatically as if doing so made his claims all the most believable. Having once again asserted himself the crowd was buzzing while Jon was left wondering what his guest was up to.

“But... l-like you’ve already said your claims are just what they are... just claims,” Jon pointed out. “Without hard evidence there’s no way to back it up.”

“Indeed so! I believe it was you who once said that... proof is the only thing that matters,” Whooves reminded him. “So that is why without using my Tardis here... I will show you this proof.”

Jon found Whooves’ promise frightening and confusing. It was already established that the only way to do this was through literal time travel and Jon made sure that when Celestia teleported him to his studio he came by himself and without his precious device. Whooves may have thought that the Tardis on stage was his but this was not the case. Jon wanted to make sure that when he came here he was truly alone.

“How... how exactly do you plan on doing this?” Jon asked. Mysteriously, instead of answering Jon’s very reasonable question, Whooves began to laugh to himself without any sign of provocation like it had no coherent connection to what was going on.

“Aaaaah again... that never gets old!” Whooves stated as he wiped a tear away from his eye.

“E-excuse me?” Jon said.

“Uh, nevermind, nevermind!” Whooves pleaded while trying not to laugh. “I-it’s nothing; anyways... where was I? Ah yes, that’s right; back to business! Before I give you what you want I should explain just how my time travel works!”

Still partly confused by what just happened, Jon forced himself to drop it and instead listen close. It wasn’t everyday he got to hear a lecture on the efficacies of time manipulation; an opportunity which also warranted the attention of the audience. Before actually going into detail Whooves took another sip of his mug of water to clear his throat. He wasn’t much of a teacher so he wanted to get this right the first time.

“Alright... now obviously I can’t explain every nuance and detail of my methods because by the time I do I could’ve just built another time machine, so for the time being I’ll start by saying this... time travel is possible,” Whooves said. “The trick is being able to control it... but once you do... you’ll have power beyond comprehension... tell me Jon, does your world have time travellers?”

“Last time I checked Google, no... no we do not,” Jon answered.

“Ah, but how are you so certain?” Whooves challenged. With quick breath Jon was moments away from answering when he realized that his question deserved a bit of thought. Clenching his fist under his chin he leaned forward in meditation like he was imitating the thinker sculpture.

“Well gee uh... I’m not-- well really I don’t know but I’d like to uh... to paraphrase something that one of our most brilliant scientists once said,” Jon rebutted which made Whooves’ ears perk up in anticipation. “I believe it was Stephen Hawking who said that... he said if there were indeed time travelers we would have seen them by now.”

“Well yes quite right... that is unless of course... said time traveler was hiding- like me,” Whooves reminded. “I can’t be certain myself but if you’ve ever found a coin or other similar form of currency and it looks severely worn out despite it being brand new, or vise-versa if you’ve ever found a coin that look relevantly new despite being decades old... that’s probably the work of a time traveler.”

The sound of flustered murmuring could be heard from the audience in conjuncture with enlightened faces nodding away in agreement. Jon was momentarily distracted with the same thought that was going through most of the audience but was quickly brought back by Whooves continuing his explanations.

“Now then theoretically there are many ways in which time travel could work. As for me, as I’m sure you know, I have a time machine that I built from a hollowed out Tardis which I can use both directly and remotely. If I’m inside it I can travel great distances but if I control it remotely I can only influence the flow of time by short bursts, and only then if it’s in range,” Whooves said which made Jon relieved that his time machine was secretly back in Equestria so in that regard he was safe. “As for the actual time travel aspect I can move through space as well as time. So if I wanted to I can go back to a time where there were no civilizations and visit proto caveponies in their underground caves or I could go to the distance future and land atop the highest skyscraper known to history. This also applies to any alternate history that I know exist; it’s really an ‘as the crow flies’ approach to time travel.”

“So I’m going to guess that the incomprehensible power comes from going into the past, right?” Jon asked in a slightly annoyed tone. “That way if you wanted to you could shape the timeline however you want.”

“You’d think so wouldn't you? But in my opinion... no, it is the exactly opposite. The real power comes from how far you can go into the future,” Whooves said as he reached down to lift his bag and prop it up on his chair. “You see Jon, real power comes from knowledge... we use knowledge everyday to either advance us unto the future or to learn from our past; without it we are powerless and without guidance. So you see, for someone like me being able to travel into the future and look back on what events lead me to that point in time, makes me the most powerful pony... you will ever meet.”

Whooves was the type to do and say everything with a goal or ultimate purpose. Jon knew this so this exposition, to a degree, made him scared. But not as scared as what he was fiddling with inside his bag.

“One of my personal pastimes is going to the future as an undercover pony to see what history says about me. Depending on how far I go I’m either a hero or an urban legend whose exploits are told to children before bedtime. However... as of late I’ve felt the need to look up other things besides myself,” Whooves continued as he motioned to his time machine just slightly off camera. “And remember, I can travel to any point in time, at any location, in any dimension, whenever I want... for those keeping track at home that means the things I know are infinite.”

With a flick of his hoof Whooves produced a folder from his satchel similar to the ones Jon had about him and Derpy. The only difference now being the fact that the one Whooves produced was so thick that when it landed on the desk it terminated with a loud thud noise.

“W-what is that?” Jon asked.

“Oh this?” Whooves said with a smirk as he giddily drummed his hooves on its surface. “Let’s just say... you’re not the only one who can do a little research, Jonathan.”

Billions watched with conflicting emotions as Whooves delicately opened up the file of hefty papers and grabbed the first sheet directly on top. Everyone watching collectively took their bets as to what it was with Jon looking like he was ready to write down this information like a student during lectures. Curiously, instead of reading off the piece of paper he had just procured he instead shuffled it over to Jon’s side so he could see it himself; Whooves didn’t need it.

“Now then... let’s start with the basics shall we? Your name is Jon Stewart, real name Jonathan Stuart Leibowitz; born November 28, 1962 in New York City, United States,” Whooves listed by memory. “Your style of comedy is political satire as well as observational comedy and you’ve been active as an entertainer since 1987. You grew up in New Jersey but now live in Manhattan with a wife and two children.”

For some watching this information was quite informative but for a majority this was nothing new. Jon himself was thoroughly underwhelmed especially since Luna had done the exact same thing but better when he interviewed her. However this was all part of Whooves plan, his version of a quick jab before an uppercut.

“But of course everypony knows that. How about we try something that only you would know... I’m sure that would carry much more weight,” Whooves said. “For example... do you remember a piece you did back in 2009? When you sent a correspondent of yours by the name of Jason Jones over to a human country called Iran... where he was escorted by a local journalist called Maziar Bahari?”

“Yes... yes I do,” Jon said, slightly perplexed.

“And do you remember how in 2011 when that very same journalist came on your show to promote his book?” Whooves added. “I believe it was called ‘Then They Came for Me’ and you said you really enjoyed it.”

“Again yes, but I don’t know what you’re getting at here,” Jon said with a shrug. “Those all happened years ago I don’t know why you’d think that--”

Perhaps it was due to his tired disposition or the fact that he only had a few hours to prepare for this, the toughest interview of his career, but for whatever reason it took Jon up until now to realize what Whooves was hinting at. Only he and a few people knew what was being set up here and even though Jon came into this interview with the knowledge that he was a time traveler he was still astonished by this development.

Placing both hands on the table like he was scared he would collapse, Jon pushed himself away, taking a long breath as he did.

“Oh my God... you know about Project Rosewater,” Jon said in a hush tone though his attached mic meant everyone heard him and were now thoroughly baffled.

“Someone give this man the cupie doll! He’s figured it out!” Whooves applauded. This jolting development had momentarily phased Jon, prompting him to ask the most stupid of questions.

“But... h-how do you--” Jon said, cutting himself off since he already knew the answer.

“Tisk tisk Jon, don’t you remember? Tiiiiiime Traveleeeeer,” Whooves said as he pointed to himself like an overachieving student trying to get the teacher’s attention. “It was all just a matter of traveling as far as I could into the future, your future, and looking over the shoulder to see what history could tell me. And when I did she began to share all kinds of secrets with me, secrets that are too good to keep to myself.”

Hearing his words, Jon didn’t know whether to feel excited or terrified. More than anything else he was just curious as to what was in that folder; he had his ideas but they paled to the reality of the situation. Following his eyes Whooves placed his hoof over the folder, throwing it back open to force Jon to look at.

“Basically... I know everything. I know what you know; and so much more,” Whooves commented as he swiveled all the way to his left, eventually facing the audience again. “Now then, attention to everypony watching I have an announcement to make! This summer Jon Stewart will be leaving ‘The Daily Show!’”

As was expected, the staff and crew were now forced to do damage control like never before. Audience members stood to their feet while others felt the need to quickly turn on their cellular devices. Phrases like “what the hell” and “oh God no” could be heard as part of the large commotion coming from the in-person audience. Usually this would be the part where Jon took control by reassuring them that everything was alright but he was still in shock. Fortunately Whooves was there to regain control.

“Now now, settle down people settle down! He’s not leaving for good!” Whooves assured the crowd, only managing to calm them down a slight bit. “He’s just leaving for the summer to go direct a movie called “Rosewater.” Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘But Whooves you studmuffin of a pony, if Jon is going to be directing a movie for twelve weeks does that mean we won’t have The Daily Show to keep us occupied thereby forcing us to be productive?’ Well fear not viewers because while he’s gone erstwhile correspondent John Oliver will be taking over the show in his stead. Isn’t that right Jon?”

Turning his head to again face the host of the very show he was talking about, both he and everyone in the audience now had their eyes locked onto Jon who looked as if he forgot how to speak. What Whooves was saying was indeed true so in that respect that wasn’t why he found himself paralyzed. His unwillingness to speak was due to his brain hastily trying to predict how this would turn out because if he played his cards right it would be in his favor.

“Well uh... y-yes,” Jon finally said, making the entire audience gasp in shock. “That’s... that’s true but--”

“Although Jonathan I must say you could not have picked a worse time to do your movie,” Whooves commented, shaking his head disappointingly.

“W-what do you mean?” Jon asked.

“What I mean is the second- and I mean the second- you leave to do your project your country goes through a slew of news worthy occurrences,” Whooves advised.

“Wait what!? Really?” Jon gulped, he had picked the summer season on the usual assumption that it would be uneventful. “L-like what?”

“Oh where to begin!? Well for starters your first day away your world’s leader Barack Obama gets in a bit of trouble when it’s revealed that he and an organization called the ‘NSA’ have been secretly wiretapping every US citizen’s phone records,” Whooves explained, causing Jon’s to lose control of his now dropping jaw.

“WHAT!?” Jon yelled as both he and everyone in the building did a quick glance at where they usually stored their cellphones.

“Oh yeah, turns out millions of humans, even those not suspected of a crime, are being spied on and not just phone records either, this also extends to emails and internet habits,” Whooves added. “Yes it’s quite terrifying, but wait, there’s more! The Executive branch isn’t the only subset of your government that’s in the news. Shortly after you leave your Judicial branch of government also makes history.”

“W-wait the supreme court?” Jon questioned. “What uh... w-w-what do they do?”

“I’m glad you ask Jon!” Whooves said as he reached to grab another piece of paper to slide towards Jon. “During my research I discovered something a little more uplifting... a little something to juxtapose the whole wiretapping thing. Now then, during the summer your Supreme Court makes a landmark case in which they make gay marriage once again legal in a place called California.”

“They-- the Supreme Court legalizes gay marriage!?” Jon exclaimed as the crowd erupted with applause and cheering like they forgot that as they did the NSA was listening to them.

“In California and later on in states like, Hawaii, Illinois and even New Jersey; overall it’s a huge boost to the cause with the biggest moment being their decision to deem a former voted proposition called ‘prop 8’ as unconstitutional,” Whooves said with Jon now speechless especially due to hearing that his of his own home state is on the list. “And as far as you humans are concerned this just the first of many victories on the road to your world finally giving equal rights to the homosexual community so good on ya, mate. Fun fact... in the distant future of this country same sex marriage is no longer an issue.”

After hearing that his country’s government was both unconstitutionally spying on him while at the same time about to constitutionally issue a decree of much deserved equal rights to an honest group of people Jon felt conflicted. Feeling both deeply terrified while at the same time pleasantly surprised like a battered housewife returning to her abusive husband.

“I can’t... I can’t believe it,” Jon commented while holding the side of his spinning head. “To think that... that... a-and you're sure this all happens while I’m away?”

“Oh I’m positive,” Whooves answered. Jon had no reason to doubt Whooves in this instance though what scared him was that what he was suggesting didn’t seem to be out of the question. That’s what scared him most of all. So to see if he was actually telling the truth he decided to pick his brain on a similar issue.

“I noticed how you didn’t mention Congress at all in your predictions,” Jon claimed, causing Whooves to tilt in his head in thought, no doubt to recall what Congress actually was. “You talked about our executive and judicial side of things but what about our legislative branch? Do they do anything while I’m away?”

On his own Whooves couldn’t recall immediately, forcing him to lean his head back, shut his eyes, and think as hard as he could to remember.

“Hmmmm no,” Whooves said. “From what I found during your departure from the show Congress doesn’t do much of anything... which from what I could gather seems to be a fairly typical state of affairs.”

A good dose of comedy turned out to be just the trick to help Jon ease his way into believing all of this.

“However they do end up making the news when you return,” Whooves added.

“T-they do!?” Jon exclaimed. “You mean they’ll actually get shit done?”

“Heavens no, quite the opposite,” Whooves answered. “They actually shut down the government... again.”

Unable to speak Jon could only press his hand to his mouth like he was preemptively trying to stop his jaw from dropping to the ground. Whooves saw this and attempted to help by making him feel better about his future predicament.

“Oh, don’t worry, not everything that happens is historically significant, some fluff pieces also occur,” Whooves assured a still laughing Jon. “I’m a little confused on the context but apparently some famous human chef by the name of Paula Deen gets in trouble for saying the word ‘nigger’... I’m not exactly sure what that means but apparently it has a negative connotation.”

Whooves’ playful ignorance caused the audience to laugh whereupon it escalated when Jon slapped his hand across his face at his guest’s mistaken use of profanity.

“I uh... I can’t believe-- this just all seems so surreal,” Jon commented. “To think that you... you could know so much about what will happen... it’s almost too much to believe.” Whooves suspected that Jon was just saying this in order to coax more information out of him. It was a simple and easily recognizable tactic; and it worked.

“Well if you don’t believe me then see for yourself,” Whooves said as he pushed the envelope of papers closer to his host. “Go ahead, take a look. You’ll find everything there is to know about you is in this file.”

Before he could offer again Jon was already holding the files in his hand, eager to see what future ideas he could learn like a child being allowed to open a present before Christmas. But as he did something Whooves said made him drop the folder back onto the ground reflexively like it was a hot coal.

“Wait... this folder... is all about me?” Jon asked, now having given time to assess the situation.

“Of course; see the little indicator at the top,” Whooves said, motioning to the part of the folder with a sticker label reading ‘Jon Stewart’ in black pen. “What did you think it was about?”

“I thought-- I just assumed it was about the future of humanity or something like that,” Jon said, glaring at the folder fearfully. “Was really hoping to see if they ever brought back ‘Firefly’ for another season.”

“Firefly?” Whooves asked.

“It’s a uh... it’s a really great show,” Jon said after several audience members hooted in agreement. “It’s a sci-fi show... like say, oh I don’t know... Dr. Who.”

His mentioning of BBC’s prized show kickstarted the brains of some of the slower viewers, causing them to make the connection between it and the guest of the night.

“You know speaking of which I also did some research on that very show since it’s based on yours truly. While you’re off during the summer a new Doctor replaces the old one... making him the twelfth Doctor now,” Whooves revealed which caused some but not all audience members to go into flurry. “But enough about me, let’s get back to you... yes these files are a compilation of everything there is to know about you! Every last detail about Jon Stewart right in front of you.”

The thought was scary enough for Jon to try and downplay it with a stark contrast of humor.

“Really?” Jon said as he kneeled down to get a close up look at it, his eyes squinting with further observation. “Not that I’m complaining or anything but... seems rather small don’t ya think?”

A chuckle could be heard spreading from one side of the audience to the other, almost nervously. Both the audience and Jon were starting to feel tired from having to learn all these new facts about what was to come. Some audience members even thought this was all part of an act. It wasn’t.

“Well it’s not like I’ve recorded every single little detail about your life,” Whooves explained, while rocking his head in a circle. “Just the important milestones. And not just work either; I also know where and when you will watch your son graduate University, don’t worry he gets into a good college. And I know who your daughter will marry and how old you’ll be when you give her away; again no need to worry; her fiance is a stand-up bloke.”

Ordinarily Jon would have thrown a fit about his guest looking into the future of his own children but he had to admit, a part of him felt relieved to know that his son and daughter will grow up to be fine adults.

“Also, fun fact, if you turn to the last page you can read the details regarding how you die,” Whooves almost forgot to mention.

The way he mentioned the destined ending of Jon’s life as casually as one would mention a new book they were reading made the semi-elderly television host feel a curling in stomach like he had eaten something bad. Knowing the specifics of his eventual death was but a few inches in front of him, printed in black and white, made him upset for reasons he couldn't quite express.

“You know how I’m going to die?” Jon asked.

“Yes, as well as when. But don’t worry, only I know,” Whooves answered as he gave a not so reassuring nod of the head. “I found a source that describes in detail the way in which you eventually will pass on... so far only I know but if you want... you can find out as well.”

With an extension of his foreleg Whooves pushed the file even closer to Jon, but like two magnets that were facing each other incorrectly all it did was push Jon away. Casting his hands forward defensively, Jon wanted nothing to do with this forbidden information anymore.

“Get that thing away from me,” Jon demanded as he quickly jabbed the bundle of papers back over to Whooves’ side. “I don’t want to know when I die.”

“As well you shouldn't,” Whooves said as he took back his folder and placed it in his bag in an attempt to ease Jon. “Nopony should know about that.”

“I’ll be honest I uh... I liked it better when you were predicting things like the government betraying the very people it claims to look after b-b-by trampling over one of our most fundamental God-given rights rather... than when I kick the bucket,” Jon commented.

Bending back over, Whooves reached for his bag to retrieve the files on Jon.

“What's interesting is that the information on you was very easy to obtain,” Whooves divulged, shaking the files in his hoof before putting it back in his satchel. “But finding out all those news items that you will eventually leave in the hands of your temporary replacement was all kinds of difficult! I’m not sure if you're aware of this but in your world’s record keeping it is much easier to look up the personal lives of celebrities than it is to do basic research on specific historical events. I don’t know what that says about your world but there ya go.”

The crowd laughing gave Jon time to reflect on the cultural differences between his world and Equestria. Of course, Jon knew what Whooves was talking about, as an entertainer who works in the field of news satirization he knew all too well how the media is easily distracted from significant occurrences.

“Whooves all I can say about that is welcome to America,” Jon stated. “Where the media cares about the latest nip-slip rather than a revolution in a third world country.”

“Speaking of which, according to my research there is going to be an event called the 65th annual Emmy awards,” Whooves mentioned, the very name causing Jon’s heart to skip a quick beat. “Your colleague Colbert beats your 10-year-long record and wins an emmy for the outstanding variety series category... sorry mate.”

Finding out how he was destined to be dethroned by his friend in such a fashion made Jon slam his head playfully on the desk. The crowd cheered and laughed at the idea of Colbert winning and despite Jon’s future lose he was proud of his friend.

“I can guarantee that it wasn’t hard to... find that little tidbit of information now was it?” Jon assumed knowing Colbert would have characteristically bragged about it non-stop.

“It was very easy to dig up yes.... simply put I just don’t understand your human priorities,” Whooves continued. “It baffled me. It’s like, if you go back a bit, when I found out that while you are away your human courts rule in favor of same sex marriage.”

“What part of that confused you?” Jon asked. “Was it the legislature they ruled against or the rights of individual states to have their own laws or--

“No, no, no that part was easy to comprehend. I was taken aback by the sheer fact that this... is even an issue in your world,” Whooves interrupted. “Where I come from... there really isn’t any discrimination against same-sex relationships.”

“Stop bragging!” Jon shot back.

“It’s really baffling for me; but I suppose each culture is comprised of its own forms of bigotry.” Whooves shrugged as he took another sip of his water, almost spilling it when he lunged forward in shock. “Oh! Which reminds me! All this talk of same-sex couples directly relates to the next topic I wish to talk about!”

“Oh here we go,” Jon said as certain audience members whooped at the idea. “If it’s still about me, I’m not gay no matter what Stephen says!”

“No offense but I’m done talking about you,” Whooves objected. “I’ve just realized that up until now I’ve completely neglected a new and rather large demographic of yours... I’ll give you a hint.”

Lifting both hooves he began to hesitantly point to himself.

“People who wear bow ties and fancy hats?” Jon guessed. “No I’m pretty sure we haven’t neglected the hipster demographic.”

While the crowd laughed Whooves took a second to adjust the very articles of clothing that Jon mentioned while quickly dismissing what a hipster was.

“No, the correct answer was ‘ponies,’ you lose five points,” Whooves said to a nonexistent judge. “Now then... I realize that I’ve gone on and on about your future and how it relates to humans and yet there are some aspects of your life that will one day have a direct influence on ponies as well.”

“Is that right?” Jon said. “I suppose it has something to do with my show.”

“Correct! You get those five points back!” Whooves congratulated. With a quick adjustment Whooves’ chair squeaked as he sat up as tall as he could and cleared his throat. “Now then... I realize that everything I’ve said about your future, what with your making a movie, your show going through a slight change of hosts and what have you, won’t happen for a terribly long time. Now I’m not saying that you humans are a particularly impatient lot but I’m willing to bet you want me to... predict what’s going to happen a little bit sooner, don’t you?”

In response to this Whooves braced himself for an uproar from the audience as did Jon. Both men made the right decision as the crowd was now in flurry of cheering and applauding, begging for the futuristic Earthpony to tell them all something about their world that had yet to happen but somehow relates to Equestria.

“I think that’s a yes!” Jon yelled over the crowd, doing so purposely as to demonstrate how difficult it was to be heard over them.

“Very well then! In that case how about I reveal something most surprising. Something that will happen on Jon’s show as early as tomorrow and is known only by myself.... not even Jon has any knowledge of this,” Whooves teased as he scouted the room for the crowd’s reaction. “If anyone out there, be you human or pony, doubt my claims of being a time traveler then... the next bit of information I am about to reveal may just convince you otherwise.”

“W-well what is it then!?” Jon pleaded. “Out with it, man!”

“As you wish, Jonathan. Let it be known to all that are watching that my knowledge of what is to come is absolute and without question!” Whooves declared in a most forced dramatic tone. “So it is with absolute confidence that I say that I know what will transpire before anypony else... for example... Jon... I know who you’re next guest from Equestria is going to be.”

Clambering again made its way into the audience as Jon shook his head in disbelief. He was never one to particularly enjoy when people give him suggestions on who to interview next, so to have Whooves about to outright tell him who they were didn't sit well with him.

“Now just hold on a minute here! You think you know who I’ll interview next?” Jon rephrased. “And you say this will happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t think Jonathan, I know. And technically I know every Equestrian guest you will ever have.” Whooves motioned to his satchel which, unknown to Jon, had a comprehensive list of every guest he’ll ever have, both human and otherwise. “As for your next few interviews... in my opinion your next three are some of your most interesting.”

Jon froze. If what Whooves was hinting at was right then he was going to list the next three ponies he was destined to have on his show. Curiosity made him sit still and listen.

“Coming in at number one; your guest for tomorrow will be none other than Bon-Bon... and Lyra!” Whooves announced to the world. “Making history as the first ever dual interview of ponies you will ever have!”

As to be expected, most humans found this bit of information interesting but hard to appreciate. With their limited knowledge of Equestrian citizens they didn’t have quite the shock of hearing this as those who were watching back in Equestria. However, there was one human completely surprised by this revelation and that was Jon himself.

“Whoa! WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! Hold on-- timeout here!” Jon demanded as he signed with his hands for things to stop. “There has to be some mistake! There is no way I would willingly have Lyra on my show!”

Jon was so riled up that he didn’t even register that what he said could be taken as rather insulting to Lyra. In truth he didn’t hate her but he didn’t have a good relationship with her either.

“I know the history between you two and yes I realize she’s not your favorite pony but let’s just say... you don’t have a choice in the matter,” Whooves told a now audacious looking Jon.

“Excuse me!” Jon said in tone sounding more annoyed than anything else as he leaned forward.

“You are right in saying that you would never have Lyra on your show,” Whooves admitted. “Which is why in the case of Bon-Bon and Lyra a decision is to be made on your behalf... it’s out of your hands I’m afraid.”

“I don’t-- okay I’ll believe that our government is spying on us but... but no, I’m sorry, I can’t-- I don’t believe this for a second,” Jon maintained. “I have control over my show... and I’m the one who makes the calls around here! I honestly don’t see any way in which I would allow Lyra anywhere near my studio... uh... sorry Lyra, no offense.”

The crowd chuckled at Jon’s refusal to believe something so small yet so significant for his show.

“I know it’s hard to believe. I won’t spoil how it happens but I will say this... you told someone to do something that you reeeeaaally shouldn't have,” Whooves hinted which Jon might have figured out had he not continued to his next point. “Which brings me to your guest following the dynamic duo that is Bon-Bon and Lyra; coming in at number two is a real fan favorite, the adorable trio that is the Cutie Mark Crusaders.”

Again the same reaction as before: Ponies were shocked, humans slightly confused, and Jon refusing to accept.

“The Cutie Ma-- THE CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!” Jon bellowed while certain demographic of guests wondered as to why this was so jolting a subject.

“And when I say you’ll be interviewing the CMC girls I don’t mean just Applebloom, Scootaloo, or Sweetie Belle individually,” Whooves added with great amusement at Jon’s surprise. “Oh no, no, no! I mean you’ll be talking with all three girls, at the same time, right here, in your first ever interview with three guests at once!”

As much as he enjoyed watching Jon squirm, Whooves did his best to maintain his stiff upper lip and refrain from breaking out in a series of snorts and laughter. Jon however attempted no such form of self control as he was still in the throes of panicked disbelief.

“Y-y-you’re telling me that... t-t-that I’m I’m-- NO! No, no, no, no, no! I’m sorry but this is unacceptable!” Jon said as he had brief flashbacks of the three filly friends tearing apart Rarity’s boutique like a Vietnam flashback and imagining what they could do once in his studio. “Don’t get me wrong I.... the... those three are as adorable as they are destructive but I would never have them on my show. No offense but... I mean they’re too young and I can’t even imagine any self-respecting adult giving them permission to... to, to, to, to come on an adult show like this.”

“Oooooh Jonathan... you delude yourself yet again with this illusion of choice.” Whooves shooked his head. “Much like with Lyra and Bon-Bon the decision to have the Cutie Mark Crusaders on your show isn’t one you’d willingly make yourself. In this instance... your hand was... or rather will be forced... again.”

“You’re telling me... I have no choice?” Jon said, finding it difficult, as well as insulting, to believe that in the future he would have less control over what his show produces.

“Historically no. Again I won’t spoil how this ends up happening but I will say this... you told them something you really shouldn't have,” Whooves answered, his tone as respectful as possible. “Also, while I’m on the subject, girls if you’re listening, and I know you are, you three will get your Cutie Marks very soon. Applebloom will get hers in architecture, Sweetie Belle will become a singer, and lastly Scootaloo discovers her true calling as a speed demon and becomes a member of the Wonderbolts.”

“S-Scootaloo is the one who becomes a wonderbolt!?” Jon asked.

“Yes, she becomes a member under the guide of the future captain, Rainbow Dash,” Whooves revealed followed by silence. “Oh... did I not mention that Rainbow Dash becomes the captain in the future... well she does.”

With all his weight shifted forward Jon took a breath so deep Whooves could feel it from the other side of the table. He tried to keep his wits about him in regards to what had been said. Going into this interview he knew there was a chance that Whooves would irresponsibility reveal what events were destined to happen, in fact he expected it. But this was all too much to take.

After hearing about how, during his departure to pursue his movie, he’d be missing out on some of the biggest events in American history Jon thought that things couldn't get any more unbelievable. It was this moment of assumed tranquility that completely left Jon unprepared for hearing about the future of his most lucrative series of interviews.

But as with all things as more time passed the more he got used to the idea. He still didn’t like the concept of interviewing Lyra or three little girls at once, and he even made plans to prevent this, but he was now weaning himself. With a few clean breaths to settle himself down, Jon tried to resume things as they were once more.

“Well then it sounds like I have quite the busy schedule ahead of me,” Jon confessed, determined to face this head on. “Now then, about that third guest... you did say you’d be revealing my next three Equestrian interviewees, right?”

“So I did! Brace yourself Jon because this next one is a big one!” Whooves warned. “I’m telling ya, it’ll make the Cutie Mark Crusaders and Lyra and Bon-Bon look like nothing by comparison.”

“As long as I’m not interviewing four people at once I think I should be fine,” Jon countered, determined to not get psyched out. “W-wait... that’s not what happens is it? Or worse I’ll-- Oh God... don’t tell me I’m going to interview the mane six.”

This idea was as chaotic sounding as anything he’d heard thus far, making it seem all the more plausaible.

“No, no your third interview will be with only one individual; I’ll spoil that right now,” Whooves assured Jon like he needed it. “I also know when you’ll interview the other members of the mane six. But I’m telling you... the one I’m about to reveal... trust me it’s going to be wild.”

After hearing that it was to be a more traditional one-on-one interview Jon was relieved to the point that Whooves’ warnings meant nothing to him. If it was just one person he knew he could take it.

“Okay, I’m ready!” Jon rubbed his hands together. “Let me hear it.”

“As you wish Jonathan.” Whooves smirked. “Your third interview will be with... a dragon.”

“I... I get to interview another dragon!?” Jon exclaimed with all smiles. “Oh wow that’s great! I-- OH! Is it with Spike again? Isn’t it a bit early for a reinterview?

“It’s not with Spike, and it’s not just any dragon,” Whooves continued. “As well as being a dragon this individual is also a pony...”

“Is that right!” Jon said, excited but still slightly underwhelmed. “Well I certainly-- wait how can that--”

“... As well a lion,” Whooves added, interrupting Jon. “And a bat, and a goat, and a snake, and a deer, and a--”

“HEY NOW WAIT A SECOND!” Jon interrupted back while waving his hands. “I thought you said I’d be interviewing a single person not a whole damn zoo!”

“Do not worry Jon. For I assure you that I was indeed speaking the truth,” Whooves said after cocking his head to the side in preparation. “You are destined to interview one person; these animals I speak of however are in fact one in the same.”

Confused as to how this could possibly be, Jon looked to be without any idea of what he was talking about, leaving Whooves the perfect opportunity to address the audience.

“Attention any and all that can hear me!” Whooves announced. “Following his interview with Lyra, Bon-Bon, Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle... Jon will be interviewing the one and only Discord, God of Chaos... technically.”

Some of the more devoted followers of The Daily Show had seen enough Equestrian Interviews to recall who Discord was and promptly reacted in an appropriate fashion. Some fans had no idea who Discord was but the title of “God of Chaos” was enough to get them talking and speculating.

However those watching from Equestria began to panic at the idea of Discord returning.

Jon didn’t respond, or rather he couldn't. He could recall every interview he ever had and as such knew exactly who Discord was and what this meant as far as implications went. The idea of interviewing Discord as a guest momentarily stunned Jon. Dragons, unicorns, and changelings were one thing but the concept of being face to face with a malevolent trickster god was scary in ways Jon couldn’t articulate. He roughly knew of what Discord could and could not do which is why Jon now found himself smiling like he had just unraveled a particularly difficult puzzle.

“Ha... AH HA! Now I know you’re just full of it!” Jon accused with an outward pointed finger in Whooves’ direction. “I h-happen to know that Discord is currently encased in stone! He... he-he was imprisoned again by the Mane Six after breaking out s-so there’s no way he’d be on my show!”

“You sure about that Jonathan?” Whooves asked, looking as smug as Jon was.

“Positive! Twilight told me all about it!” Jon countered. “So unless... u-unless she and her friends used the Elements of Harmony to free him or something I doubt what you’re telling me is the truth.”

With a face that expressed a most sincere look of surprise, Whooves pursed his lips together and whistled a tune equivalent to saying “wow.”

“And here I thought I was good at predicting the future,” Whooves commented.

“W-wait,” Jon stammered. “You... you’re not serious are you?” Rather than answering his question Whooves did something that frightened him down to his very being; he turned to face the audience again.

“To everypony out there watching this from Equestria... it is exactly as Jon Stewart here says,” Whooves began. “Like before, Discord, the God of Chaos and Destruction, will be released from his stone imprisonment. This time at the behest of Princess Celestia to the Mane Six.”

Jon had to take a moment to register that a time traveler was now accusing the princess of another world of planning on issuing an order to the guardians of said world to use their magic to release a god who represented chaos. For anyone else believing that this was possible was grounds for being put into an asylum but for Jon he had no doubt that it existed, just a slight disbelief that it actually was going to happen.

Though at the same time if what he was saying was true Jon couldn't have asked for a better turn of events. Placing his hands under his desk, to hide the fact that they were trembling, Jon took a quick breather before he spoke.

“Whooves... you’ve said a lot of things here today but to insinuate that Celestia... my friend... m-my homie if you will... to insinuate that she would willing allow the release of one of Equestria’s greatest evils is a hell of a thing to say,” Jon calmy rebutted. “Why... on earth would Celestia do this? Why... uh, that is, why would she just willfully release such a dangerous monster on her own people?”

“Well... her plan was to reform him,” Whooves explained. “She wants Twilight and her friends to use the power of friendship to make him see the errors of his ways to turn his life around.”

“So basically a reverse Darth Vader,” Jon quipped. “Aaaand because it worked that makes it so he’s allowed to be set free... thereby giving him the perfect opportunity to be on my show.”

“Yep, there’s no way around it,” Whooves went on to say. “You really should have avoided that maze.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jon sighed, ignoring his cryptic message and leaning back in his seat.

Emotionally he was so drained that the prospect of interviewing an actual god didn’t seem so daunting a task. In actuality the gravity of the situation would never truly sink in. Had he been given more time to think about what this meant he might’ve even gone into a panic attack much greater than anything displayed so far but that would not happen. Especially with Whooves just warming up.

“However,” Whooves added. “That’s just her cover story.” Jon’s head shot up.

“E-excuse me?” Jon asked.

“Her wanting Discord to be reformed certainly was her idea... but her true intentions actually run so much deeper,” Whooves said, still facing the audience. “Celestia... if you’re watching and I know you are... I know.... I know everything.”

What followed was a moment of silence that Jon dared not break by speaking.

“I know why you wanted Discord reformed. One reason was so you’d have an excuse for leaving the Elements of Harmony in the hooves of Twilight... so when she activated a certain spell... a series of events would lead to her becoming... more like you,” Whooves cryptically announced. “I think we both know what I’m getting at here... I know what you’re planning.”

“Um excuse me,” Jon interrupted. “What... are you trying to say here? Mind filling us in, Morpheus?”

Slowly Whooves turned to face Jon again while cartoonishing rubbing his hooves together like Dick Dastardly plotting an evil scheme.

“Jon, did I ever tell you that I know Twilight?” Whooves asked. “That we’ve met on a couple of occasions?”

“No you haven’t but I don't doubt it,” Jon said. “From what I hear Twilight is a real mare about town... I’m sure you’ve met a few times.”

“Well yes but I don’t mean in the here and now,” Whooves said. “I mean back where I’m from... in my time we’re... let’s say acquaintances.”

Reflexively Jon was about to comment on how lovely that was and ask how any of that was of any relevance to what was being talking about. But before he could something clicked in his head.

“Th- wait... what? Wait you and Twilight know each other from back when-- how’s that possible?” Jon asked. “You live a thousand years in the future, there’s no way Twilight would still be alive then... well unless she was--”

“Immortal?” Whooves finished for him.

“Exactly,” Jon concluded. “And there’s no way that’s possible unless she was a... wait... y-y-you don’t mean...”

“Oh I do,” Whooves said as he leaned back and threw his head into the air. “This is a message to all willing to hear it... Celestia will issue onto Twilight a series of challenges which she will pass with flying colors... ultimately leading to her graduating to the highest order of existence known to pony-kind.”

From all walks of life, there was silence.

“That’s right!” Whooves said. “In the not too distant future... Celestia will transform Twilight Sparkle into an Alicorn... making her the newest Princess in Equestria... Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

Even Whooves was momentarily surprised by the crowd’s reaction which volume wise was somewhere between a jet plane taking off and an elephant yodeling into a megaphone. The interview between Jon and Twilight was one of the most watched of all time with most fans knowing of who Twilight was. So to hear that such a fan favorite was becoming royalty meant that the crowd was spewing forth gleeful hollars and deafening applause like never before.

All were celebrating but Jon who stayed perfectly still with his jaw practically on the edge of its hinges. He looked shocked and surprised but not so much by the fact that his friend was destined to become an eternal being like her mentor but by the fact that Whooves would even know about it. This was the moment Jon was waiting for and now that it was here he almost didn’t know what to do.

“This... this is it,” Jon thought as he tried to formulate his thoughts in speech form. “This is the proof I’ve been waiting for!”

Interview: Please welcome to the show Dr. Whooves (3/6)

Throughout the interview Whooves had offered several claims about what would happen in the future, none of which were easy to prove true. It was quite possible that everything he’d been saying was made up and just done for shock value but once he started to list some of Jon’s future endeavors he became more credible.

He knew that Jon was planning on leaving the show for a little bit to make a movie, a plan he kept secret from nearly everyone who wasn’t involved in the project. And now he’d done the exact same thing with Celestia and since what he unveiled about Jon was the truth it stands to reason that what he said regarding Celestia was fact as well.

This meant that as far as both Jon and Celestia were concerned Whooves had done what almost seemed impossible. Prove that he was a time traveler without actually time traveling or having his time machine present. This was it; Jon was at the precipice of having his plan coming to fruition.

All Jon now needed was to stall for time.

“Wow that’s really... I mean I know she was quite the skilled Unicorn but to think it’d go as far as uh... as her becoming a princess herself...I-I mean wow!” Jon said, determined to stay on topic, if only to eat up time. “So wait, is she still a Princess in your time?”

“She sure is,” Whooves answered. “Her duties usually revolve around maintaining order in Canterlot, Cloudsdale, and of course Ponyville. That entire region could be considered her beat though she spends most of her time in the Castle. She’s actually very skilled as an ambassador so she often travels to other nations representing the royal family.”

Jon was only partially listening by this point. His attention was split down the middle between the interview and focusing on his next move as well as preparing himself for the signal.

“So tell me... uh... s-since Twilight still exists in your time,” Jon began. “Does... does that mean you have to avoid her here in the present? I assume if you made contact with her here she might remember you in the future and that could... well that could be bad for the timeline, right?”

“A very astute observation on your part! And in fact you are correct,” Whooves said while nodding. “I do my best to avoid ever being in the same room as her, yes. Even though I’m certain that in 1000 years she won’t remember me either way... or even make the connection about me being in the future. But yeah, Twilight, if you’re hearing this... if you ever wonder why whenever you come over to visit Derpy I lock myself up in my room... well don’t feel paranoid because I am avoiding you.”

“Isn’t that-- isn’t it awkward to travel centuries into the past and end up having to uh, uh, having to avoid interacting with your friend?” Jon asked.

“Nope. Not even a little bit and I’ll tell ya why,” Whooves began. “You see calling Twilight my friend is... a bit of a stretch. In my time we know of each other buuuut I wouldn't say we’re friends.”

“Okay... uh, why not?” Jon said.

“Simply put; she hates me,” Whooves said.

“Well tha-- wait... what did you say?” Jon fumbled to say, his attention now completely undivided. “T-Twilight... hates you?”

“Ooo-ho-hooooo yes, yes she does,” Whooves continued with a toothy grin. “She hates... my guts!”

Various audience members as well as Daily Show staff and crew looked away from the stage only so they could look at each other with confused glances. Jon shared their reaction as he looked like Whooves had just answered his question in gibberish.

“I don’t... what?” Jon said, followed by a quick chuckle from the audience. “A-are you sure we’re uh, we’re talking about the same pony here? Purple body, streaked hair, huge nerd? I’ve... I’ve interviewed Twilight before and... and we’ve met a few times and I got to say... she’s... she’s a really stand up gal. I don’t think she’s even capable hating anyone.”

“Oh trust me, she hates me,” Whooves said. “She told me so herself... and that’s okay cause to be quite honest she’s not my favorite pony either.”

“Okay what-- not to go all Jerry Springer on your ass but why exactly do you two have such bad blood between each other?” Jon asked.

“So you’re asking why she hates me?” Whooves guessed.

“Yes; please explain,” Jon said. “Because out of all the things you’ve said here today... claiming that Twilight would hate anyone is probably the most unbelievable.”

“Ahhhh, you’re just like the ponies back home. They all love Twilight too... or at least they used to,” Whooves chuckled. “Alright, you want to know why little Ms. Perfect finds me so detestable... fine I’ll tell ya... the reason why Twilight hates me is because... well to be honest there’s quite a few reasons.”

The way he freely admitted to this made the audience laugh in response with Jon silently listing a few possible reasons himself.

“But first let’s start off with the basics and go over all the things we’ve already learned today, children,” Whooves said, sounding like a homeroom teacher right before a commulitive exam. “Do you recall what I said about time travel in the future?”

“Uuuuh... yes, it’s forbidden,” Jon answered correctly. “So much so that... the Castle had them all destroyed.” He was starting to get a clear idea of what was going on.

“That’s right and the pony who spearheaded this movement was Twilight herself,” Whooves revealed. “She rallied for the destruction of all time traveling spells and convinced those who had knowledge of them to have their memories wiped of how to make them... it took years and there were those like Celestia who were against it, but in the end she got her way.”

“Again... I’m finding it hard to believe that uh, Twilight would do this,” Jon commented. “I meant-- I mean the Twilight I know loves magical spells and would never call for the massacre of a certain kind of spell.”

“Well the Twilight you know today is a much different pony from the Twilight I know 1000 years from now... much different. Okay, bear with me here... her reasons for trying to get rid of time travel completely was one layered with her own selfish ideas and internal fear... I realize this isn’t the most diplomatic way of explaining things but it’s true,” Whooves attempted to explain. “At the time she claimed that this was the best solution and that she was the leading expert on time travel because she did it once, for a few seconds, centuries ago.... I’m sorry but a nearly failed attempt of traveling into the past does not make a pony any more proficient in the art of time travel than my own flank!”

“Two things I want to note here,” Jon said. “The first being that I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so riled up about something like this. Also I don’t-- I did not know Twilight once went into the past!”

“Credit where credit is due, she did time travel once before. You see when she was younger Twilight used a time traveling spell once and the way she describes it she ended up causing herself more trouble in the long run,” Whooves explained. “And then there was the incident with Retchstrike... she was directly involved in helping to defeat him.”

“Retchstrike?” Jon asked before immediately remembering the name. “Oh right! That uh... that evil monster who invaded Canterlot and tried to use a time traveling spell to uh... to go back in time to destroy the Elements of Harmony?”

“Correct. You see between her ‘experience’ as a time traveler and almost having the elements of harmony destroyed, the very force that brought Twilight and her friends together and saved Equestria numerous times, Twilight was convinced that time travel was too dangerous a force to keep around,” Whooves explained. “But what I want to illustrate more than anything else... nothing... absolutely nothing gave her the right to take away such a-- I mean what she’d been through in no way made her an expert!”

Again Jon noted that all the talk of time travel had made Whooves reveal a more serious side to him the likes of which he thought weren’t possible.

“You had to know what it was like,” Whooves added. “I’m not sure if you’d be able to understand but we had a leader making a potentially life changing decision on a topic that she knew barely anything about! It was quite frustrating.”

As a satirical comedian whose primary form of amusement came from politics, Jon knew this feeling all too well, to an almost unhealthy degree.

“Yeah that’d be like old white guys in their 80’s making decisions on women’s contraceptive products,” Jon jested as he rubbed his palm against his face and up into his hand. “And I’m sure you didn’t just sit around and.... that is to say I’m sure you didn't stay quiet about all this.”

“Oh, I was very outspoken against it from the very beginning,” Whooves proudly stated. “As I’m sure you’ll recall I’ve been interested in the idea of traveling through time since I was but a young colt... so to have the Castle destroy our only means of doing so didn’t sit well with me.”

“And this is why you and Twilight don’t like each other?” Jon asked. “Because of your opposing sides on this issue?”

“Well yes and no... this was certainly one reason. If you remember I was one of the top members of the Terra Equinity society; we were notorious for opposing the Castle on almost every issue and with time travel it was no different. There were some conflicting opinions but a majority of us agreed that their actions were too reckless,” Whooves went on to say. “So basically Terra Equinity was the largest and most influential group that opposed the royal family and I was one of their most outspoken. For the longest time Twilight knew me as that one pony from that one group who tried to rally support against them. I was never her favorite pony in Equestria.”

“Did you two have like turf wars? Since song and dance is quite common in your world I uh... I can imagine it being like a West Side Story kind of thing,” Jon said much to the confusion of Whooves who didn’t get the reference as was expected. The crowd quickly laughed at the idea leaving Whooves befuddled so Jon picked up with a new, and more serious question. “And I imagine... actually inventing your own time machine and going into the past anyway didn’t help either, did it?”

“Ooooooh yes, that little incident made her so mad! She was so certain that she had completely eliminated all forms of time travel- she spent years making sure it could never be done, it was one of her life's work and then here I come to ruin her day!” Whooves said with a most devilish of smiles. “Best part was there were rumours that I was making one and she even knew about it, but again since I was just a dumb ol’ Earthpony no officials ever came knocking at my door asking questions like they did with everypony else. Speaking of which, remember all those other Unicorns that were either arrested or prevented from trying to create time magic when Bolt shock issued his challenge?”

“Yes,” Jon said. “What about them?”

“Well after I escaped Twilight gathered them all up and... oh this is the best part.... she gathered them all up.... oh god--” Whooves said, stopping to catch his breath and trying not to laugh. “She gathered them all up... and offered a reward if they could successfully create time travel so she could go back in time and stop me!”

Throwing his head back Whooves began to laugh as loudly as he could as if he wanted future Twilight to hear him. Tilting forward he began to slam his hoof against the table as his laughter grew louder and louder.

“So you’re saying... she tried to reinvent that which she thought dangerous and evil... just so she could capture you?” Jon asked.

“I know right! Isn’t that hilarious!? Ooooh she got so desperate too! And when that didn’t work she created a sub division of the Castle’s magic program called The Chronos Program,” Whooves trilled with gleeful pride. “Their main task was to invent a stable time machine that she could use to stop me from using mine. Her hate for me was so great that she went back on every word she ever said about time travel being dangerous.”

“Well then aren’t you scared that she’ll do just that?” Jon asked.

“Do I look scared to you? You see that’s the beauty of time travel... the mere fact that I managed to do it in the first place means that she’ll never recreate the same magic that she herself had destroyed,” Whooves countered. “Infinite time paradox you see Jon; if she ever found a way to time travel she would have stopped me and yet I’m still here. But just to be on the safe side once I traveled secretly into the future and I mean waaaaaaay into the future and discovered that Twilight never succeeded in her plans to try and capture me... in fact historically speaking there has been only one pony to ever create a working time machine... and you’re looking at him.”

“My God... how... how long did she try?” Jon asked.

“Far too long; funny part is that I technically didn’t break any laws. After she destroyed all time spells she was convinced that no one could recreate them so when the law banning the use of  time based spells came up for review she didn’t renew it, thinking it would just be a redundant waste of time,” Whooves chuckled as he leaned back and folded his hooves behind his head. “If I could give future Twilight one piece of advice it would be to stop trying and save the taxpayers money.”

“Oh man I can only imagine how the people of Equestria reacted to this,” Jon stated.

“Jonathan... you have no idea. That’s the cherry on top of the sunday that is Twilight’s hatred for me. You see the day I escaped to the past is looked at as one of the greatest days in Equestrian history. On that day ponies of all ages ran into the streets and rejoiced at my exploit,” Whooves claimed with a now skeptical looking Jon. “I’m not exaggerating when I say that after the day I went to the past ponies celebrated for an entire week straight. News of what happened spread to the four corners of the world and from there on it was recognized as a holiday celebrating creative ingenuity. Every year there’s a parade and every year Twilight refuses to attend it.”

“The people of your world really liked that you defied the royal family like that?” Jon wondered out loud.

“Oh they loved it! Remember because of Terra Equinity and the teachings of my mentor, Zenith, more and more ponies were starting to rely less on magic and the Castle and more on science and technology. I kickstarted a new series of generations more enlightened than anything ever seen before,” Whooves explained. “My time traveling escape is seen by some in a negative light but for a majority it’s a pivotal moment in ponykind, scientists and Earthponies for centuries to come would look to me as a role model and a testament that those who aren’t of royal privilege have the capacity to do great things as well.”

“No offense... but from the perspective of Twilight I can see why she doesn’t like you,” Jon said.

“And that’s just it! The fact that I, one of her biggest political rivals, defied her in the most comprehensive fashion imaginable was bad enough but as a result all her loyal subjects praised me for it. You see, what I accomplished not only undid all the work that Twilight accomplished but it forced her to realize that what she was doing wasn’t viewed by her people as anything but an overreach of her power; it was a real wake up call one might say,” Whooves suggested. “Twilight always claimed that she was looking out for the best interest of the people by destroying all magic spells... but afterward she saw first hoof just how much everypony didn’t side with her on the issue. And then afterwards when she tried to re-invent time travel to stop me she ended up alienating every pony in Equestria; those who were always in support of her frowned on her decision to go back on her word and try to create time magic while those who were always against her hated the fact that she wasted so much money trying to stop me.”

Again Jon was hearing things about his friend that didn’t sound like her. Though he of all people knew, when put into a position of power over many people, how difficult it was to make everyone happy. It seemed that even in Equestria, politics can be bring out the worst in people.

“The time spent trying to find me is considered one of the lowest moments in her infinite lifetime as she never really bounced back from her low approval ratings,” Whooves added. “I didn’t mean for that to be the case but... what can you do? She just couldn’t stand that because of me she became the persona non grata in her own kingdom.”

“So... this is why she hates you?” Jon finally said.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Whooves shrugged. “Well... that and the other thing.”

“W-what other thing?” Jon asked surprised that there was more.

“Oh there’s still much to discuss about me and Twilight and thankfully for you I’ll let you in on the secret,” he hinted. “In truth everything I’ve said is why Twilight hates me... but in the grand scope of things it’s only about one fifth of the reason.”

“Really!? Only one fifth!?” Jon exclaimed as he looked to audience then back at him. “So... having to-- so leading a powerful group to try and block every decision she made... build-- building a time machine and going back in time despite her years of effort, rallying her own subjects against her forcing her to come to terms that she wasn’t as in control or was as appreciated by her own people as she thought she was... all this... all of this doesn’t even warrant more than just one fifth!? What else-- Jesus Whooves what else did you do to that woman!?”

“It’s not so much what I did but who I did it with,” Whooves answered.

“Okay, you’re losing me now,” Jon said.

“You really want to know the real reason Twilight hates me?” Whooves asked but didn’t wait for a response. “Alright but first a little more backtracking is in order... do you remember Zenith? My Mentor?”

“You mean pony Galileo? Yeah I remember,” Jon answered. “What about him?”

“I don’t know if you remember but I did mention that he was related to Twilight,” Whooves reminded.

“Yeah... Oh yeah!” Jon said finally remembering. “That’s right, you did say that! Didn’t you-- wasn’t he also very outspoken against the Castle as well?”

“That’s putting it mildly. Remember his philosophical views on life created the age of enlightenment, ushering in a generation of free thinkers who were against the Castle. His teachings sparked a cultural movement of ideas that continued to give the royal family trouble long after his death,” Whooves recapped. “In addition, he not only inspired me to be the stallion I am today but he also was the founder of the Terra Equinity society which was made basically to stonewall her at every move.”

“God damn!” Jon commented with a face like he saw someone being broken in half. “How-- It must have been incredibly awkward... for her-- for Twilight to know that a descendant of hers would end up being her greatest political enemy.”

“It’s even more awkward when you take into consideration that Zenith was her first born son,” Whooves revealed offhandedly.

The usual rule of thumb when interviewing someone on television, especially one with a format like The Daily Show, is to ask questions and make the conversation flow to make the focus be on the guest. If he or she began to talk about someone else you can explore the topic but always keep in mind that the person in front of you is who you’re interviewing. And while Jon was determined to keep things Whooves related he soon found himself raptured by other ponies who he barely knew.

“Wait what!?” Jon barked as he slammed his palms against the table like he was going to get up. “Zenith is the son of Twilight!?”

“Yes... did I not mention that?” Whooves said with an innocent smile.

“Well... no!” Jon answered. “When you said he was a descendant of Twilight... I assumed the generational gap was a bit larger than mother and son.”

“Oh well I am sorry but yes, in the future Twilight gets married and has four children,” Whooves continued. “A boy and three girls... the son being of course Zenith.”

“I-- wait a minute,” Jon said, pausing to think things over. “Are you saying... are you saying it takes-- it took Twilight a 1000 years to find herself a man?”

Usually only amused by his own antics, Whooves began to laugh a few moments before the audience as he saw that coming but still found the joke rather amusing. As serious as this was to Jon he couldn't pass up an opportunity to tease a friend of his.

“I mean I know she’s a strong independant mare who don’t need no stallion but to think she’d wait so long,” Jon added. “Talk about a late bloomer.”

“Actually… aaah, actually the story of Twilight being a mother is a rather sad one,” Whooves said while trying to hold back some left over laughs. “The reason why Twilight didn’t start a family to much later in life is because as an Alicorn she was granted immortality. As such, she was forced to watch as her closest friends and family grew old and eventually died while she stayed the same age. She had many chances to settle down but never did because she thought couldn't handle watching as she outlived her own husband and children.”

“God damn, future Twilight just can not catch a break!” Jon commented.

“Yes but eventually she did find a pony... a stallion who she loved so much that she was willing to start a family with him,” Whooves added which made the crowd vocalize how romantic it sounded. “And then what a great cruelty it was that she ended up having a very strained relationship with her first born, Zenith.”

“Oh no... don’t tell me she hates him too,” Jon said.

“Actually,” Whooves said. “Otherway around.” Hearing this caused a slight jolt of pain through Jon’s heart. As a family man himself he was fortunate to not know of such sadness first hand.

“Twilight’s... Twilight’s own child hates her?” Jon said, sounding as sympathetic as possible.

“You know, if you were to ask him yourself he’d say yes... but honestly he loves... at least I think he loves his mother as much as the next pony and I can say that now without fear of him hitting me over the head with his cane because he doesn’t exist yet,” Whooves said. “But if--”

“So then why does he uh... why does he claim to hate his own-- to hate Twilight?” Jon interrupted. “Wh-what happened between them to cause such a falling out?”

“Well to understand that you need to understand what it meant... for Zenith to be born the son of the great Twilight Sparkle because it was a struggle for him since day once. You see in the future, as I said before, Twilight does eventually find a pony who she loves enough to get married to and it wasn’t with just any old run of the mill pony,” Whooves explained as he adjusted himself in his seat and straightened his suit. “You see, in the future Twilight marries the captain of the Canterlot Guards... a Unicorn by the name of Chambermane. Chambermane was looked at... I guess you can say as the action hero of the time; he’s considered to be the greatest soldier in the history of Canterlot and debatably all of Equestria. He was promoted to captain at a very young age, and made general where he was largely considered to be the reason Canterlot won the great Equestrian war against the griffons and it was he who took back the badlands region by himself during the war of ‘72. But he didn’t just fight, he was also quite the delegator; it was his diplomatic involvement and knowledge of policies that made it so Equestria didn’t have a civil war over the Castle’s refusal to reinstate old legislation to--”

“You’re losing me... again!” Jon warned.

“Oh sorry... uh, basically put while Twilight was considered to be the leading authority on magic Chambermane was considered to be the ultimate warrior,” Whooves explained. “Seriously, the guy had so many medals he clinked when he walked.”

“Wow, talk about a power couple,” Jon commented. “Eat your heart out Jay-Z and Beyonce.”

“And there was the first challenge. You see when the two of them got together they quickly got started on a family and Twilight was pregnant within a few weeks of their marriage,” Whooves explained. “Everypony was excited. The consummation of Twilight and Chambermane was believed by many to be the beginning of the most important birth in Equestrian history.

“So you guys freak out over royal births too I see,” Jon commented as his audience laughed while Jon peaked over at the camera like he was addressing Kate Middleton herself.

“And for good reason. You see, ponies believed that Twilight’s and Chambermane’s first born would be their future leader who would lead them into a better tomorrow. With Twilight being the most magically proficient Unicorn in the Castle and Chambermane being the strongest Unicorn on the battlefield, everypony assumed their son, or daughter, would be the greatest Unicorn to ever live,” Whooves explained with overly dramatic waves of his forelegs. “The child will have the magical know-how of its mother and the strength of its father, they all said. Their first born will be a symbol to all that the Unicorn bloodline in Canterlot was the apex of the pony race and proof of the Castle’s power; a God among ponies.”

“That is a lot of pressure to put on a baby,” Jon said, trying to lighten the mood as he was starting to see where this was going. “I mean Jesus... when I was a kid all that was expected of me was to learn my ABC’s and tie my shoes.”

After a brief bout of laughter from the audience Whooves continued where he left off.

“Of course Twilight never saw things in that light. All she wanted was a healthy baby to call her own and maybe carry on her legacy,” Whooves continued. “But imagine her surprise when she gave birth to Zenith... an Earthpony.”

“I’m going to go ahead and assume that everyone was accepting of this, there was no racial backlash, and they were just happy to know that he was born healthy?” Jon guessed.

“Well, suffice it to say a lot of ponies were disappointed. Many of them assumed that the two greatest Unicorns at the time would give birth to, well, a Unicorn who would grow up to be even greater than them. Turns out Chambermane’s grandparents were Earthponies and the recessive gene carried over to his son,” Whooves said. “Earthponies were and are considered to be inferior to Unicorns so this was seen by many as an abomination unto the Castle... but while many didn’t like this turn of events Twilight and her husband, by all accounts, never stopped loving him; his birth was considered by Twilight to be the happiest day of her life.”

“Why do... uh, why do I get the feeling that you’re about to tell me something like... uh, something like Zenith felt like he was never good enough for her?” Jon said.

“Because Zenith felt like he was never good enough for her. Even at a young age he always felt like Twilight was ashamed of him. And he knew that there were ponies who hated him simply because he was the first Earthpony to be born into royalty. It got even worse when Twilight gave birth to her next three children, all three Unicorns, and it was here that Zenith started to grow apart from Twilight,” Whooves disclosed. “You see, despite her love for them equally Twilight did give extra attention to her daughters, Horizon, Meridian, and Nadir only in the sense that they had more in common so it was easier to bond. Those three scary-- I mean lovely ladies are a completely different story, individually they’re powerful but get them together and they’re unstoppable.”

Believing that things were getting too off topic as it was, Jon decided to keep things coherent.

“So, um... about Twilight did... uh, did she at least... I mean did she even try and make a connection with Zenith?” Jon asked.

“Oh she tried her hardest but even when he was a child Zenith was smart enough to realize just how out of place he was in a family of all Unicorns so he mostly kept to himself as he does most of time, even now,” Whooves answered. “Actually out of everypony in his family the one pony who Zenith really admired was his dad, Chambermane.”

“Really; why?” Jon asked. “I mean... I realize he’s his dad but wasn’t he also a Unicorn like Twilight?”

“Well yes but while his sisters learned magic from Twilight young Zenith would enjoy spending time with Chambermane who tried his best to connect with his son. Chambermane knew that what Zenith was going through was something he knew almost nothing about. As a Unicorn born in Canterlot and his family name being synonymous with other famous war ponies he knew nothing about being different,” Whooves said. “His genius was that he knew that and made it clear to his son that although he may not fully understand what he was going through that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try or stop loving him because of it.”

“If that’s the case uh, then, then, then, why didn’t Twilight try and... try and do the same thing?” Jon asked. “I mean it seems like Chambermane didn’t know what it was like for Zenith any more than Twilight did.”

“Well in the case of Twilight... to be fair Zenith never gave her a chance; to him Twilight being an all-powerful Alicorn was as far removed from himself as possible. No, he was much more loving of his father who despite being a privileged Unicorn did find ways to connect with him on a more personal level. Specifically by the fact that as a war pony he knew what it was like knowing that somewhere out there a large group of ponies despised you for seemingly no reason,” Whooves continued. “Basically his experience as a diplomat wasn’t just used during war time. He once said that his skills as a communicator were never used for greater good than when he convinced his son that he loved him for who he was. Throughout his life he used his wits to prevent wars or to win them; but his greatest feat was mediating his way into his son’s heart like no one else could.”

Much like the audience, Jon willingly stayed silent as to not interrupt Whooves’ recount of such a touching story.

“It sounds like... it sounds like his father was his only friend in that big ol’ Castle,” Jon commented.

“Sadly true. You see Zenith always found his father to be interesting and not like the rest of the ponies of the Castle. Rather than using magic Chambermane became famous for using his brain, not just on the battlefield but on the political stage as well. You don’t become a 5-star general on brawn alone so on a more intellectual level this is what Zenith admired about him most I think,” Whooves explained. “Chambermane wasn’t even that skilled at magic and he felt that his race wasn’t what identified him. He tried to encourage Zenith to do the same by following his own path and not letting anyone else dictate how he should think or act... so yes he really was the only person he could connect with growing up. The way Zenith tells me, after he’s had a few drinks, is that his fondest childhood memories were of staying up late as his dad recounted his different war victories, explaining to him about how to read maps both on earth and in the heavens, and teaching him the finer points of mediation which he would use later as an adult.”

“See that’s just... that’s good to hear,” Jon said. He was tempted to make an slew of easy jokes regarding Zenith’s idea of fondest memories but even he didn’t want to ruin this touching story. “It’s good to see... it’s good that he had a healthy relationship with uh... w-with one of his parents.”

“It’s true, the two of them were inseparable,” Whooves said. “Which makes this next part all the more tragic.”

“Oh God, more sad stories?” Jon asked.

“More sad stories,” Whooves confirmed as he leaned forward to better address his host. “You see Chambermane, much like Twilight, was considered to be an expert diplomat so he didn’t spend much time in the Castle.”

“And Zenith didn’t like this one bit I assume,” Jon pondered out loud.

“He hated it. When Zenith was born Canterlot was thankfully in a state of peace but it was still necessary for representatives of the Castle to travel to other nations to maintain that peace through summits where kingdoms either renewed treaties or tried to open trade routes and the like,” Whooves explained. “This of course meant that Chambermane, being the star ambassador, was away for long periods of time and during these trips Zenith kept to himself... now here comes the sad part I was talking about.”

Jon braced himself for what was going to come because he had a pretty good idea as to what it was.

“The decision to send ambassadors to other lands was entirely up to Twilight. She always decided who went where. Well at one point one group known as Legion requested an audience with Twilight to negotiate peace,” Whooves said. “Legion was a small nation who made a name for themselves as being a very small country who started off as a group of bandits but later grew so big they took over a neighboring nation and established a monarchy there. Overall they were known to be a corrupt bunch, with strong ties to the pony black market.”

“And Twilight didn’t want to go, right?” Jon asked.

“Actually she did, oddly enough. She believed it to be a trap but at the same time Legion was known for causing trouble for them so if their declaration of peace was true she believed that it was at least worth looking into,” Whooves answered. “But Chambermane wouldn't allow it. He thought it too dangerous and demanded that Twilight send him instead. She of course refused at first but in the end she was no match for his linguistic skills and she allowed him to pursue this mission.”

“And?” Jon asked. “W-was it a trap or not?”

“Unfortunately, yes it was. Chambermane and his squad were ambushed by Legion thugs before they could even make it to their nation,” Whooves revealed. “Sadly... this was one mission that Chambermane didn’t return home from... he was killed in the ambush.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaah, that’s... damn,” Jon moaned along with several audience members. “Poor Zenith.”

“He never really did get over the death of his father. Worse, even though going was Chambermane’s idea Zenith fully blamed Twilight for what happened since she was the one who issued the mission,” Whooves revealed. “The kingdom mourned the loss of their hero but for Twilight it was the day she lost more than just her husband.”

“Wait, who else did she lose?” Jon asked. “Do... do you mean... Zenith?”

With a sigh, Whooves shook his head and closed his eyes mournfully before recounting.

“Well like I said, Zenith convinced himself that his father’s death was entirely Twilight’s fault, so the night that word reached the Castle of his death Zenith went and confronted Twilight and the two argued over it. And by argued over it I mean he just yelled at her while she remained silent,” Whooves described. “By this point he was already not too fond of her so this was the push needed to drive his emotions to a hate-filled level. It got so bad that in a fit of blind anger he even accused her of doing it on purpose because she was jealous of him.”

“Oh that’s just not fair,” Jon commented. “I feel for the guy but that’s a low blow.”

“I... agree but... it was hard for my mentor because remember, his father was the most important pony to him,” Whooves reminded. “And of course since Chambermane was the only pony to really connect with Zenith he now felt alone and scared. From there he felt no need to continue to stay at the Castle. This is considered to be another depressing moment in Twilight’s life, because on that day Twilight lost both men in her life; her husband died, and her son ran away from the Castle to set out on his own, never to return.”

“He... he just left her?” Jon asked, getting a nod in return. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Whooves answered. “His last words to her on that day were ‘it should have been you who died in that ambush... not father.’”

“Wow... d-did they ever reconcile their relationship?” Jon asked.

“Sorry... but no,” Whooves answered. “For the rest of his life Zenith never forgave Twilight and continued to blame her for what happened. He would constantly refuse to meet up with her and declined every invitation to the Castle he ever received. Even to this day he refuses to speak to her let alone even speak her name... their strained relationship remained just that... forever strained. And that’s where I come in, because remember when I said Twilight hates me?”

“Yes,” Jon answered.

“Well let’s just say my involvement... didn’t help them grow any closer,” Whooves admitted. “In fact because of me... things got worse I guess you could say.”

“Again, what did you do to that woman?” Jon demanded to know. “Don’t tell me like... you were one of the guys who was with Chambemane during the ambush... or something crazy like that. Or like you were the one who convinced Zenith to leave the Castle.”

“Hey, nothing like that, he left on his own accord,” Whooves responded, “Besides, at the time Zenith was something like... a little bit younger than me; I wasn’t even born yet.”

“Says the time traveler,” Jon countered.

“Hm, touche. But no, what happens next is important to know when it comes to understanding Twilight, Zenith, and myself,” Whooves explained. “After he left the Castle Zenith went into hiding at the neighboring town of Ponyville where he would live for several years in secret and obscurity so Twilight wouldn't find him. From there he got a job working on a farm during the day and lived in a library built into a tree. His years in Ponyville were spent working the fields and writing the drafts of some of his early textbooks and documents.”

“He ran away to hide but lived in Ponyville?” Jon asked. “Twilight’s own backyard?”

“Well he went there for a very specific reason but in addition it was the best place to hide; right under her nose,” Whooves said. “Who would have thought about looking there?”

“I see... well, must have been quite a change for him,” Jon commented. “To go from living in a Castle in Canterlot to working on a farm in Ponyville.”

“It was difficult for him but that’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted to live where Earthponies did and indeed do work that was expected of Earthponies. He did this so he could know what ponies of his kind went through and as a result be closer to those he wanted to fight for; it was a humbling experience,” Whooves said. “Even something simple like candles were an eye opening experience for him. Back in the Castle he had an unlimited amount of candles to light at night so he could read his books at all hours, but in Ponyville if he wanted to write his manuscripts he needed to work extra hours in the fields to earn the money to buy them or just hope there was a full moon.”

“It really does sound like uh... like his time in Ponyville changed him,” Jon agreed. “Hopefully for the better but uh... what did he write... you said he spent his nights writing his, his, his... uh--”

“Mostly he wrote what we know now as his earliest thoughts regarding the state of Equestria, Unicorns, and those in the Castle. He wrote many self-published articles bashing the royal ponies and Unicorns who were in charge while promoting the concept of free-thought and self- governing under the fake name Solstice,” Whooves explained. “You see, by this time the royal family like Celestia, Luna, and all the other princesses had expanded their control to all corners of the world through colonies or dual governing over other cities. The first big example of this was when Princess Cadance was given the Crystal Empire.”

“And Zenith didn’t like this because?” Jon asked, the idea of an empire made of crystal not enough to distract him from this anecdote.

“Because he felt what they were doing was detrimental to the pony race as a whole. By having them govern so many major cities around the world he felt that rather than duly elected representatives and a free democracy ponies from different regions were instead having to rely on the royal family to an unhealthy degree. In one of his famous editorials he called what they were doing a more ‘diplomatic’ form of invading and conquering, he called it just as evil as what Legion did to that small nation they took over,” Whooves added to Jon who was still as enchanted by all this as the audience. “Of course the Castle responded by saying that all they were doing was reaching out and supporting less fortunate kingdoms and contributing their own culture to them but Zenith thought this was the worst thing by far. He never liked the culture of the Castle and Canterlot by extension. He believed that those in charge at Canterlot Castle were too obsessed with magic and maintaining their royal customs whereas he felt that science was a much more feasible form of power, always evolving and applicable enough that anypony could use. He felt that democracy was more of a respectful form of government rather than having no voice in who governs you. Basically Zenith felt that the individual common pony had a voice equal in volume to that of any given princess but that those at the castle were purposely keeping every pony dependant on magic so that they could stay in power, since they themselves were the strongest magic users.”

“You know... it’s shameful but as much as I agree with Zenith on some of his uh... opinions I’ve got to say it’s hard to take him seriously considering where he came from,” Jon commented with a face that suggested he did indeed regret saying what he said. “I mean what he says makes sense, do not-- don’t get me wrong, but I uh, I can’t help but feel that he’s only doing that to get back at his mom.”

“Okay... this is going to sound a bit biased since he’s my mentor but no, you’re wrong. While it’s true he didn’t like those in the Castle, least of all his own mother, his philosophical views were always the same long before his falling out with Twilight. As a colt he saw the aristocracy of Unicorns to be a mostly poisonous thing since most of them who passed through the Castle only used their power and influence for self-gratification. And those who did push for change, like the Unicorns in the Castle, promoted the kind of change that he found questionable,” Whooves defended. “And it was only when he left did he decide to do something about it, but you’re right... despite his stance he couldn't forget his origins. Even though he was born an Earthpony he did grow up as if he was a high class Unicorn so when he started sending out his letters, notes, and leaflets for the public to read he did so under an assumed name so as to not reveal who he was. He even made sure to not profit in any way from his teachings because he didn’t want a money trail that could lead back to him... which is a shame because his teachings became very popular very fast and in a short period of time everypony knew of the mysterious pony named Solstice who was promoting deviant thoughts on behalf of the common pony.”

“If they ever make a movie out of this guy... Tom Hanks would be perfect for the role!” Jon added before genuinely contributing. “So did-- and then what happened? He obviously didn’t stay in hiding forever.”

“Well after a certain point he finally worked enough and saved enough money that he decided to move back to Canterlot,” Whooves answered.

“Wait, wait, wait... he moved back to Canterlot?” Jon echoed. “I thought you said-- why would he do that? I thought the... you know between the Castle, Unicorns, his mother, and the class of ponies who lived there didn’t he hate that place?”

“Oh immensely, but he still wanted to promote his type of enlightenment to as many ponies as possible,” Whooves answered. “And the best way he thought to do this was to go to the source of all he deemed most adverse... Canterlot itself.”

“Wait so... so this guy went back to his home town... the capital of Equestria, just so he could teach-- promote his radical philosophical views which were contrary to the royal teachings?” Jon summed out. “... this guy has some serious balls!”

Adding his usual pearl of classy insight both he and Whooves then proceeded stay silent to allow the audience time to stop laughing so they may continue.

“He most certainly did. But when he arrived at Canterlot and revealed that he and Solstice were one in the same... that he had been the one who was circulating all those written drafts, he was met with fierce opposition!” Whooves revealed by slamming his hoofs on the desk for effect. “Those who agreed with him called him a hypocrite and a pretender since he himself was born into royalty and those who were against him thought the same as you did and accused him of being nothing more than a scared child lashing out at his mommy with his teachings a temper tantrum. His debut wasn’t pretty.”

“I’ve been there man... only replace trying to bring democracy and enlightened thinking with going on stage to tell penis jokes,” Jon said as the crowd laughed. “No, no, I’m uh... I’m serious my first gig was terrible... but as an entertainer I’ve learned there really is no such thing as bad publicity... I’m guessing this is what Zenith wanted all along.”

“You are correct, my mentor isn’t considered one of the smartest ponies to ever live for nothing. You see, his big reveal was done solely for the sake of drawing attention; he wanted to return and reveal himself in the biggest way possible. And what better way than for the first born son of Twilight to not only resurface after many years and allegations of him being dead but to return to Canterlot as the infamous Solstice promoting change,” Whooves said. “Needless to say, everyone all over the world was talking about this and all eyes were on him to see what would happen; just as he planned.”

The more he learned about Zenith the more he realized how comparable he was to many human philosophers who made themselves famous through the same tactic of poking the sleeping bear of authority. In this case the similarities were only just starting.

“You see, when he was in hiding that’s where most of his ideas came to fruition on paper, but because he was poor he could only afford to print out brief snippets of his ideas every now and again. In truth the wondrous ideas viewed as a clarion call to so many readers throughout those years was but 1% of what he had to offer. While in Ponyville he had ideas for so many things but lacked the funding to truly express them. That is until his arrival in Canterlot,” Whooves continued. “After the initial shock of his return he went off like a powder keg and used funding he had saved up over the years to do so. In a short year he made headlines by going into the streets and rallying endless crowds of ponies with unfiltered teachings of his ideas. While in Ponyville he had ideas for inventions that he could not afford to create, some of which anypony could use and rendered certain magical spells obsolete. His mind was so sharp he forever changed influential fields like medicine and law. He even answered mysteries of life that the Castle was still struggling to understand... you see, while he was in Ponyville he allowed his mind to accumulate so many revolutionary ideas and it was only when he returned that he allowed them to be unleashed upon the world. It was a rocky comeback but after he proved how dangerously intelligent and insightful he was the people looked to him as a hero among the ponies.”

“I’m surprised... that the people of Canterlot would be so quick to accept him afterwards,” Jon pointed out. “I mean from what you’ve told me... all his stances were against things like the Castle and Unicorns... which Canterlot is all about.”

“It’s true that not all of the residents of Canterlot were so keen to listen to him but you see he didn’t pick Canterlot just because he wanted to attack the problem at its source or just because doing so would get him the most publicity,” Whooves answered. “He did so because despite being a Unicorn dominated area there was also a large group of Earthponies as well... their positions in the city were restricted to servant, janitor, really any form of menial labor... Zenith swayed them all onto his side. As a matter of fact the whole layout of the city changed very rapidly. After his scientific influence within the city made it easier for Earthponies to find work, more and more Earthponies migrated to him and in turn he helped each and every one of them find their place. Soon Canterlot was forever changed as it was almost split in half with one side favoring magic and other representing the scientific free thinking movement that Zenith spent his entire adult life trying to start. And this change wasn’t just seen in Canterlot, more and more other cities began to shun the Castle away and instead rely on their own forms of self-sustained progress.”

Despite none of them seeing this first hand or even experiencing what it would be like the audience found it appropriate to cut off Whooves’ monologue by applauding.

“And Twilight and the Castle just allowed this to happen?” Jon said, seizing the moment to speak.

“What could she have done? What choice did she have? When Zenith returned she did try numerous times to get him to come to the Castle to talk but he always ignored her. From then on Zenith wasn’t known any longer as her son but as her political enemy,” Whooves revealed. “This was hammered home particularly when other Earthpony scientists came to support him and their combined efforts later created the Terra Equinity society I mentioned earlier. And while it didn’t happen right away their influence in the city became so great they got a seat on the committee within the Castle and the organization grew so large that its force was seen as equal to the Castle, only with Terra Equinity on the other side of the city that was a reflection of Zenith’s teachings.”

“And in fact Terra Equinity became so big that they started to add new members,” Jon reminded the audience. “Members... like you.”

“Exactly,” Whooves added while clapping his hooves. “And now... the part you’ve all been waiting for... me.”

Interview: Please welcome to the show Dr. Whooves (4/6)

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!”

Interview: Please welcome to the show Dr. Whooves (5/6)

There was slight confusion among both the staff and those in the live audience due to the sudden shift in tone as the interview took a complete change of topic. This feeling was less reflective of the audience since at this point they expected anything to happen during an installment of “Equestrian Interviews,” but the staff felt as if something was going on behind the scenes, like there was something being prepared without them knowing and they were all a part of something big, bigger than themselves.

Their first hint was that Jon, at the last minute, made this episode’s interview an Equestrian one. This wasn’t in itself completely unlike anything Jon had done before or was capable of but nevertheless he prided himself on, usually, having a tight schedule. What set off some alarms was that he did this for a seemingly uninteresting guest; an Earthpony who was just a town timekeeper. Their suspicions were later confirmed when he turned out to be a time traveler which prompted the two to dance around the issue for the majority of the segment.

All but one of the staff members were kept completely in the dark, with that notable exception being Jon’s assistant Selina who also didn’t know about Whooves being a time traveler but knew he and Jon were up to something respectively; in fact her other task for that night was attending to Jon’s other guest who he had waiting back in his office. She had no idea what was truly going on and indeed didn’t know what was currently happening. For some reason Jon had deviated from his normal standard and began to talk to Whooves directly, not for the benefit of the interview but rather looking as if he was threatening. What he would say next surprised everyone who heard.

“Whooves I regret to have to inform you that this whole interview has been a fake,” Jon said as he stood up to get a height advantage. In response to this the crowd began to loudly discuss the revelation amongst themselves and with the stage hands, who were too surprised themselves to try and calm them down. With a gesture of his hand he pointed to the very audience that was making the commotion. “These audience members are the only ones viewing this, the cameras are recording but they’re not broadcasting this anywhere.”

The discussion among the crowd grew louder.

“I’m no business pony... though I do have several degrees in the field of enterprise,” Whooves bragged. “But if an individual wants to have a lasting career in television I’m pretty sure actually broadcasting the show might help bring in viewers.”

“This isn’t about my show,” Jon said. “This is about you... and me.”

“Is that right?” Whooves questioned. “So tell me Jonathan... why exactly did you set me up here in this fake broadcast?”

“To protect those who might be listening,” Jon said. “Since the very start my goal here was to try and get you to admit who you really are... to try and get you to fully confess that you are a time traveler.”

“I kind of already did that,” Whooves reminded. “Wasn’t that preeeeetty much the first thing I said?”

“Yes and that’s why... you see the reason I didn’t want the world to find out is because if you happened to reveal anything that could possibly cause a panic I wanted to make sure it was contained,” Jon revealed. “And seeing as how you’ve revealed events that have yet to happen both in Equestria and in the human world I made the right choice.”

“So if I’m to understand correctly… you set this whole thing up just to try and get me to confess to practically no one watching that I can travel through time?” Whooves surmised out loud. “Uh... why? What's the point of all this?”

Slowly Jon hoisted one of his arms, which had been firmly placed on his desk, to point behind Whooves at the backstage where his office would be.

“Because aside from this audience there is someone else watching,” Jon advised. “You’re not the only pony I invited here tonight... back stage even as we speak Princess Celestia has been waiting in my office watching the entire show.”

No one but Jon and Selina knew about this so everyone, from the back row audience member to the sound effects team, strained to understand what was going on. If what Jon was saying was true then the supreme god and leader of another world was but a few feet away in a small office with a dirty window view and a half working AC unit.

“Celestia you say!?” Whooves feigned. “How duplicitous! Now why would she be here?”

“Simple; I told her all about you. Right after we met the first thing I did was call her up to have you on my show and reveal to her your secret. Yeah, I lied,” Jon admitted. “Of course she didn’t believe me at first so after she was done with her last meeting in the Castle she teleported herself to my office shortly after doing the same with you... she’s been watching the entire time so now she knows everything.”

“Well then... this certainly doesn’t bode well for me now does it?” Whooves commented, though he didn’t look the least bit concerned. “So... why exactly did you set all this up then?”

“Because now... Celestia knows you're a criminal of her Kingdom roundabout a thousand years from now. Which means that unless you want her to imprison you it’d be in your best interest to do as I say,” Jon explained. “The only reason she hasn’t barged in and arrested you by now is because she’s in my world and slightly... out of her jurisdiction... we agreed that what’s to be done with you is entirely within my discretion.”

Something about Jon’s plan was apparently humorous enough to make Whooves chuckle to himself. While finding this odd, bordering on insulting, Jon continued to throw his cards on the table.

“So from here on out you’re going to do what I tell you to do or things will end very badly for you,” Jon warned. “Having said that... unless you help me save Trixie I can’t guarantee I can convince Celestia to go easy on you.”

Whooves’ idle chuckling had, by this point, evolved into a full on onslaught of laughter which only further confused the already bewildered staff and audience. They had no idea what was going on or for that matter how Trixie played a role in this since they were for the most part ignorant of the fact that she was injured.

“S-so... so that’s your plan!?” Whooves laughed. “You’re blackmailing me!?”

“It’s the only way. Celestia and I are good friends so she’ll listen to me... I can get her to spare you and if you’re lucky even turn a blind eye to your criminal activities... she’ll fight me on this but I know I can convince her,” Jon advised. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help you but I’m only willing to do so if you give me something in return.”

“Oooooh you’d like it back in my time,” Whooves commented. “Corrupt dealings like these are very... very common.”

“I’ll ignore that. Because right now... the way I see it... I’m the best chance you’ve got of returning home to your life with Derpy,” Jon said, pausing to let the gravity of the situation sink in for his guest. “So I’ll ask you one last time...”

There was another pause, prompting all who were watching to lean in with anticipation. Some believed this story to be completely true while others were still running on the assumption that this was all an act, but were nevertheless interested to see where it was going.

“Whooves... will you send me back in time to save my friend Trixie?” Jon asked. A silence overcame the studio so strong that even the slightest breath was loud enough to be heard by all. It was for this reason that it looked as if the studio had stopped in time, with not a single individual attempting to so much as blink lest they miss Whooves’ response to Jon’s question... which he gave only after reaching forward to take one last sip out of his Daily Show mug.

“No,” Whooves answered.

For the first time in a while Jon felt as if he had control. Control over his life, control over his show, and control over elements that aimed to hinder him, and just like that it was this same sense which was slowly slipping away from him right here where it all began, on his show, during an interview.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? HOW CAN YOU STILL SAY NO, HOW!?” Jon roared, slamming his fists on the table. “Don’t you get it!? You need me! Without me to help Celestia will do lord knows what to you once she gets her hands on you! How can you still refuse to help me given your situation!?”

“Because Jonathan, I have a duty to uphold the timeline,” Whooves maintained. “I’m sorry but I have a moral obligation to not--”

“DON’T GIVE ME THAT!” Jon yelled so loud there was a sharp audio feedback. “How can you sit there and lecture me on the ethics of time travel when you’ve already fucked up the timeline once already!? You have absolutely no respect for... for... I mean for God’s sake you sat there believing we were broadcasting live and you still revealed what would happen in the future like it was nothing and--”

“You actually believe that I thought we were live?” Whooves interjected. “Really?”

Jon’s ranting was cut short as he was now forced into consideration of what his guest was hinting at.

“What are... what do you mean?” Jon asked, slightly out of breath.

“I knew the entire time we were off the air,” Whooves explained.

“... H-how?...” Jon asked, unable to formulate much of a response.

“Fun fact about me- I’ve never lost a game of chess before in my entire life. Nor have I ever had to write a draft of a paper,” Whooves bragged. “When I do something I’ve already planned everything out in my head. I don’t need time travel to accurately predict someone’s actions when I can formulate scenarios in my head faster than any machine... I’ve had you pegged since the moment this interview started.”

As was sometimes the case with an interview as highly touted as this, Jon was at a loss for words. He was slowly starting to once again feel like his authority was being usurped; the sad part was this feeling was starting to become all too familiar to him.

“Also, what makes you think that we’re really off the air?” Whooves asked.

“W-what?” Jon asked.

“I said what makes you think we’re not really on the air? I’ll bet you gave an explicit order to your camera guys to only pretend to film this interview but in actuality they were only recording not broadcasting,” Whooves accurately assumed. “But here’s the thing... I’ll bet if those very same camera operators were to look at the little indicator on their side of the screen they will find that this is... no longer the case.”

As if his body was frozen Jon refused to move even a little bit, but soon his own unyielding curiosity got the better of him and he slowly turned to his left with Whooves remaining silent; allowing him to do so. He was expecting his eyes to meet with one or two of his cameramen but they were too focused on their camera’s interface with expressions like they’d seen a ghost. This was all the confirmation Jon needed.

“Want to know something funny?” Whooves asked, prompting Jon to look back on him. “We’ve actually been broadcasting the entire time... everypony and everybody has been watching us since the very start.”

“B-b-but…” Jon stammered.

“But you’re wondering how this could possibly be?” Whooves guessed. “Simple, I did it. I made this happen.”

“I can’t… but… y-you...” Jon struggled to say as he sank in his seat.

“Now you’re wondering how I could possibly have done this?” Whooves accurately assumed. “I was able to do so with… THIS!”

With a quick sleight of his hoof the genius Earthpony produced a cylindrical device from his pocket. It was some kind of tool that looked like something that belonged wedged on the inside of a vehicle motor; Jon had never seen it before yet at the same time it looked familiar. It was a shiny chrome color with a black middle segment and copper parts at its base and head. The top glowed a faint green, giving the impression it had been activated.

“W-w-what is that thing?” Jon asked.

“My most trustworthy tool to date! It’s a screwdriver!” Whooves revealed. Jon was about to comment but was cut off. “And I know what you’re thinking; ‘that’s not a screw driver’ and you’re right! Because a screw driver can’t do things like remotely operate devices.”

“Wha-wha-wait... wait did you... are you telling me that this... things of yours...” Jon said, trying to catch his breath as his mind began to run wild. “Are you telling me this thing can control my cameras!?”

“Oh it can do so... just so much more than that!” Whooves explained. “But yes, among other things this little number can control any electrical device remotely so long as I’m close enough to it.”

“I... I don’t believe you!” Jon challenged.

“I knew you wouldn't,” Whooves said as he raised his much praised device into the air and pushed a button.

Immediately, as if the studio was being taken over by some form of poltergeist, stage lights began to rapidly flicker on and off or change tones to cast the stage in many shifting colors. In addition, the studio was ablaze with countless noises ranging from the show’s theme song being played at high speeds to the announcer’s voice reading off dates while various gag sound effects flooded the room.

Daily Show workers were scrambling to fix either the lighting on stage or audio equipment upstairs but none of them could even begin to figure out how to return things to their proper order. It looked as if the show was about to sign off when Whooves lifted his hoof in the air with infinite slowness to press the button on his device, this time bringing peace and quiet back to the show.

“Like I said... it was me,” Whooves reminded as Jon tried to recover from his whole world crashing down around him. “Also, you might want to say something because we're still on the air.”

Taking his advice, Jon sat back down to face his guest, his mouth opened but no words escaped. After a brief pause he finally worked up the nerve to say something. He could hardly believe what Whooves had done; the implications were too great.

“W-why?” Jon asked. “Why would you do this? Why would you... why would you broadcast everything we’ve said to the... to the world!?”

“Because I wanted to prove a point,” Whooves said as he pressed a button on his device to briefly make the lights on stage shift onto him. “To show you that you’re not in control here, I am. I’m not afraid of you or anypony else who thinks they can get the better of me... and that includes Celestia who, by the way, isn’t going to help.”

“What do you mean?” Jon said.

“Think about it... with all the things I’ve said here today... why hasn’t Celestia come up on stage to subdue me?” Whooves had Jon consider. “And no, it’s not because she’s letting you handle the situation, we’ve already seen how well you’re doing at that... it’s because she can’t... she can’t do it!”

“I... I don’t understand,” Jon added.

“Jonathan, do you have any idea what it’s like... what it’s like to have your mind automatically simulate every possible scenario and come up with solutions for any given problem within a quarter of a second? To have the ability to come up with the next 358 moves in your head before your opponent has even made their first?” Whooves asked. “I’ve always known that Celestia was here... I knew you wouldn't broadcast this and that you need your ace in the hole to be nearby... oh and by the way... did you even bother to read the text message she gave you?”

As if his heart was threatening to stop, Jon slammed his hand against his chest where his cellphone was comfortably resting in his pocket. It would seem that Whooves had figured out that once Celestia had all the evidence she needed against him, was ready to assist Jon, and had everything in order that she was to send him a text as a signal for him to initiate phase two.

“You know what Jonathan, go ahead... read it,” Whooves offered. “Read what your dear friend Celestia has to say... go on, I’ll wait.”

Usually this would be the point where the audience would cheer and encourage Jon to go along with this plan but even they found themselves unable to properly voice their opinions. Instead they sat in anticipation, silently wishing that Jon would do as his guest said rather than just blankly staring at him. Fortunately their prayers were answered by Jon who slowly dug his hand into his jacket pocket and whipped out his phone which by now had been used more times against him than in his favor as of late.

Quietly he began to read the message on the surface of its face, mouthing off each word with everyone watching wishing they could read lips. The more he read however the more his eyes began to dilate and his hand shake like he was holding a block ice rather than a cellular device. With his free hand he covered his quivering mouth like he was afraid he would vomit at any moment.

“What does it say Jonathan? Because I’m willing to bet my bottom bit that you thought it would say something along the lines of ‘Jonathan I have everything ready, you may proceed’ or something like that, huh?” Whooves speculated with Jon too shocked by how accurate he was to respond. “But in reality I bet it actually says something like ‘Jonathan help! Something is wrong, I can’t get on stage! Some unknown force is pushing me away!’”

What he was saying was so suspiciously accurate that Jon wondered if he somehow saw the text before he did since he almost recited it word for word. It was as Whooves said, the text message he received from his angelic friend was a warning rather than her affirming that their plan was progressing correctly. Celestia had no idea what was going on but Jon already knew what form of sorcery was keeping her at bay.

“It’s you,” Jon pointed to Whooves. “You’re doing something to keep her away from us.”

“A rather fair assumption; and a correct one at that,” Whooves said as he took his alleged screwdriver and flicked it into the air, catching it before it hit the ground. “This marvelous little tool is very much multifunctional and can do many great things... one such use it has is a magic barrier... where it negates nearby magic and repels it so it can’t get near me... want to know how a pair of Earthponies managed to take down an Alicorn god, well this really helped.”

“You... you knew all along she was here, didn’t you?” Jon asked as he slumped back in his chair. “You knew... everything from the very start.”

“Let me check my notes... yes, yes I did,” Whooves jested. “Which is why I felt safe saying the things I said... if this was a game of chess I believe this is the part where I say ‘checkmate.’”

Even though he had told himself as much many times leading up to this he still fell for a dangerous trap that he felt could have been easily avoided; he underestimated his opponent. Everything that Jon had planned was falling apart before his eyes and even Celestia couldn't help him now, leaving him alone to match wits with the smartest pony to ever exist. Again the same crushing sense of not knowing what to do overwhelmed him, nowadays this feeling was so common it almost felt standard.

Having Celestia in his corner had been Jon’s ace in the hole, knowing that a god was on your side can make even the most humble of humans arrogant and aloof. Jon didn’t want to accept defeat so soon and yet he realized he was dealing with forces far beyond anything he could ever hope to understand. He had hit another low point.

But just as things were looking like they couldn't get any worse something clicked in Jon’s head, something that, for most of the interview, he tried to keep at the foreground of his mind for just such an occasion. Jon didn’t have super memory like his Earthpony friend but even so he recalled that, aside from Celestia, he had one last ace in the hole.

“Fine... you win,” Jon said, who looked as shocked as his audience who knew him to never give up. “I admit it... I thought I knew what I was doing, I thought I could outsmart you but it seems... I was wrong.”

“Well good on ya, mate,” Whooves cheered. “That’s quite level headed of you to say. But don’t worry because I’ll--”

“But that doesn’t mean I’ve lost total control over my own show,” Jon added.

“I beg your pardon?” Whooves said.

“You’ve had my cameras on this entire time... well, the way I see it, if that’s the case... then there is still so much for us to talk about,” Jon answered.

“What are you saying, Stewart?” Whooves demanded to know.

“I’m saying...” Jon said as he picked up his notes to straighten them… “we still have an interview to finish.”

Sitting straight up in his seat and arching his neck, Jon adjusted his suit and used his fingers to comb his hair back.

“You still want to carry on with the show? Really? You know I was joking about going on for hours right? Between freely revealing that I’m not of this this time period and exposing your government's corrupt dealings I think I’ve ran out of things to talk about.” Whooves shrugged. “I have a pretty impressive stamp collection back home if you want me to talk about that.”

Even after all that had been said, and the emotional baggage that came with it, the crowd still found it within them to chuckle at Whooves’ attempt to liven up the situation that he had not so surreptitiously made awkward. But while the crowd attempted to secrete a sense of levity back into the moment Jon just sat there looking as determined as he was when he first took the show.

“No I’m serious here Whooves... I feel like there is so much we’ve yet to discuss,” Jon assured him. “You may not want to but I’m going to appeal to your scientific sense of curiosity and say that there has been something I’ve been holding back since the beginning of this interview that I have yet to bring up...  till now... a sort of trump card if you will.”

Even Whooves had to admit he didn’t see this coming nor could he ignore it. His curiosity had been beyond peaked.

“Hm... this is new,” Whooves stated. “And what might that be exactly?”

“Oh you’ll see. That is if you’re still willing to continue with our little friendly back and forth,” Jon said as he turned to face the audience. “Back me up here guys; you don’t want this interview to end just yet do ya? C’mon!”

At first the audience needed time to get themselves riled up like an old car with a bad engine. But soon in standard fashion they were cheering and begging for things to continue, their cries for more directed squarely at Whooves who found it hard to say no. By this point he was committed to taking Jon’s bait but even if he hadn’t he would have found it hard to say no to nearly a hundred humans peer pressuring him.

“Very well then Mr. Stewart,” Whooves said as he arched himself to throw his back hooves on the desk. “Show me... what you got.”

“Oh you’ll live to regret those words, buddy,” Jon said in a joking tone though he was very much serious. “You may be smarter than me but I’m famous for making other people look stupid.”

“I tend to do the same thing as well. Though... not intentionally,” Whooves smirked back as Jon lowered his arm to grab something under his desk. “But enough about me, let’s talk about you... want to know what you’ll have for breakfast six months from now?”

“Actually,” Jon began as he threw something on the table, “there’s still so much about you yet to be discovered.”

Leaning forward an inch Whooves looked over to see that Jon had thrown his manila envelope back onto the table, the very same one he used to “trick” him into revealing he was a time traveler and to discover that Derpy was also from the future. It was about one-eighth the size of Whooves’ envelope on Jon which was a compendium of his entire life whereas the one on him was of only a couple years. He was not impressed.

“You’re fond of that little envelope file aren’t you, Jonathan,” Whooves commented. “I know exactly what to get you for your birthday.”

“Trust me, there’s a good reason why I’m bringing this back out,” Jon said. “Because with this I’m going to expose you for the pony that you are.”

“Did I just travel back a half hour and not realize it?” Whooves asked as he jokingly checked the time on his pocket watch and began to frantically look in all directions. “I thought we’ve been through this already?”

“We did and do you remember how I did it?” Jon asked without any regard for an answer. “With this I discovered that your existence in Ponyville and indeed this time can only be traced back by two years... which meant that you suddenly appeared after traveling back in time.”

“Yes but if you’d also recall this little ‘discovery’ was proved to be rather redundant since I had already willingly admitted to being a time traveler. Watch I’ll do it again!” Whooves demonstrated by turning around on his swivel chair to yell in the direction of the backstage. “Hey Celestia, you still held up back there!? Well guess what, I’m still a treasonous time traveling fugitive from the future and you still can’t stop me! Frustrating isn’t it!”

“Oh I wouldn’t say it was completely redundant,” Jon said to the back of his guest as he reached for the page on the very bottom. “Because we also learned by this method that your wife Derpy was also from the future and-- WELL would you look at this... a medical file.”

In his effort to further antagonize the unseen leader from off screen Whooves had begun to wave his proclaimed screwdriver in the air, but when Jon revealed what it was he had found he suddenly stopped mid taunt. Jon couldn’t see from his angle but those observing from the backstage entrance could see Whooves’ face slowly morph into a surprised frown.

He looked like instead of a piece of paper Jon had produced a gun and was pointing it at the brown Earthpony’s back. He was so shocked that he almost dropped his magic repelling device which would have mostly likely derailed the interview, but seeing as how neither guest nor host were anything to each other it looked as if that had already happened.

Slowly the guest of the night turned his chair to face Jon again who was fanning himself with a single piece of paper, looking determined while his guest looked like he was on the verge of being humiliated.

“W-where... where did... you find that?” Whooves asked.

“Oh this? It was in the mountain of paperwork that Mayor Mare allowed me access to,” Jon said. “If you’re wondering how it was found well then you severely underestimate the power of an unlimited supply of interns... all I had to say was ‘first person to bring me something worth my while will get an extra college credit’ and they found this in a matter of minutes.”

Much like throughout the entirety of the interview Whooves was doing his best to repress any emotional outbursts he might have in order to maintain his aloof demeanor. For the most part it was done so he wouldn’t burst out laughing at the slightest provocation but in the case of Jon’s surprise reveal he found himself trying his best to steady an already bubbling mass of anger.

“Funny thing was we couldn't find anything relating to both you and Derpy up until a certain point which is no surprise considering you two don’t technically exist yet,” Jon explained as he idly continued to fan himself. “But then one keen eyed intern found this in a mass of papers that would make Al Gore cry. Do you know what it is? Of course you do, it’s a medical report about your wife... Derpy.”

“Is this how you entertain your fanbase?” Whooves asked, now slightly regretting his decision to make things live. “Going through other ponies private medical records for everypony to see!?” Ignoring his question, Jon continued.

“This one was particularly hard to find because it wasn’t grouped in hers or your main portfolio,” Jon continued to explain.

“Stop,” Whooves said under his breathe.

“But rather it was in a huge pile of paperwork under ‘medical records’ general to the entire town,” Jon continued.

“Stop,” Whooves repeated much louder.

“But I digress... in this report it says that Derpy went and got herself a psychological test as part of a routine physical,” Jon explained further.

“Stop!” Whooves said as loudly as he could.

“And right here at the bottom it says, in black and white, that as far as Ponyville is concerned Derpy Whooves is... completely healthy on all accounts both physically and mentally. So a clean ticket of health for her,” Jon revealed, confusing the audience as to why he brought it up and doing little to curb Whooves’ rising temper. “So good for her... when I saw this I almost didn’t bother keeping it but then the intern who found it for me pointed out something rather... interesting.”

“I said stop!” Whooves exclaimed.

“Right here... under date.” Jon pointed. “Says here that this physical was done... several years before your arrival in Ponyville.”

Jon was still holding a piece of paper and not a gun, though to Whooves it felt as if this revelation announced by Jon was a bullet that went through his heart. He had little to say.

“Now of course those in Ponyville wouldn't think this suspicious at all since it’s understandable that some files are to go missing while others are not... however for those of us paying attention this here makes no sense and by all rights shouldn't exist,” Jon explained to Whooves who had to briefly look away as sweat from his brow found its way into his eye. “We’ve already learned that you and Derpy before a certain point didn’t live in Ponyville because you were in the future... so tell me Whooves... how could Derpy have had a physical years before she existed in this timeline?”

Getting up to where he was leaning forward, Whooves slammed both his front hooves on the table, knocking over his Daily Show mug in the process.

“How would you like it if somepony went through your psychological records!?” Whooves yelled as he grabbed the file he had on Jon so quickly half its contents spilled onto the desk and onto the floor. “Why don’t I go ahead and list everything wrong with you!”

“Here, I’ll save you the trouble! My name is Jon Stewart: I have huge daddy issues and I have an imaginary friend named Charlie the elephant!” Jon yelled back on the spot. “NO! This isn’t about that, this is about you and your wife so as I said before: How could Derpy have had any kind of medical examination several years prior to her arriving in this point in time!?”

This time Whooves had nothing to say which was in itself a rare moment. So instead he did the only thing he could do and yield the floor to Jon who was all too willing to carry the interview further.

“Well if you won’t say anything then allow me to tell you my theory!” Jon continued to interrogate. “Let’s begin with the obvious... this file here is a forgery, a fake... an attempt by you to convince the good people of Ponyville that your wife Derpy is perfectly healthy... the question is... why?”

A pony though he was, Whooves was breathing so deeply through his muzzle that if he had horns he could have been confused for a raging bull. But as always he tried to remain calm, though in practice was just suppressing a specific type of anger that had been pent up long before this day- years of hate that was full to burst at any second.

“I’ll tell ya why! You did this to fool everyone into thinking Derpy’s alright when in reality there is something... something wrong with her,” Jon speculated which caused Whooves to tuck his head and cover his ears with his hooves.

“Please stop,” Whooves begged.

“As someone who has met with Derpy a couple of times and indeed interviewed her... I’ve always just assumed that she was just a bit... off,” Jon added. “What my mother would called a Flibbertigibbet... but now after seeing this... I can safely say that I’ve come to conclusion that there’s something bigger at stake... something worth trying to cover up.”

No matter how hard he covered his ears Whooves couldn't fully block out what Jon was saying; at this point he had heard it all before.

“Whooves?” Jon asked, waiting an awkward few seconds before continuing. “Derpy is crazy... isn’t she?” Despite his ears being covered he heard what Jon had said and like a jack in a box it made him jump from his seat onto the table where he ran towards Jon, almost slipping over the several strewn about paper in the process.

“SHUT UP! DON’T TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT!” Whooves roared as he slapped the fake medical report out of Jon’s hands. “YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING; YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT SHE WENT THROUGH! SHE’S NOT CRAZY GOD DAMMIT, SHE’S NOT CRAZY! SHE KNOWS HER NAME! SHE KNOWS HER NAAAAAAAAAAAAAME!”

As if their roles were reversed it was now Whooves who had succumbed to an emotional outburst while Jon was still sitting in his seat unphased by his guest’s yelling, with a calm and collected look about him like he knew this would happen. And it was there that the two glared at each other, anger on one end and indifference on the other.

Whooves was the first to break this staring contest when he regained his composure and realized where he was. In rare form he could only barely remember what he had said or done, it was difficult because the amount of anger he had unleashed was enough to make him lose sight of what was going on around him.

Hesitantly he looked to his right to see that the audience was now directly staring at him, with a level of surprise mirroring his own. He wasn’t one to be in this kind of position; his logical mindset meant that he was not one to give way to feelings. He was always calm and collected and thinking things through from every possible angle... that is unless the central topic was his wife; only then was he a slave to his emotions.

“Why don’t you set the record straight then?” Jon offered, causing Whooves to quickly look back to him. “You obviously went to a lot of effort to make sure that if anyone were to investigate they would find that Derpy was sane.”

Reaching forward, Jon motioned for Whooves to sit back down.

“Why don’t you tell us why,” Jon repeated. “Because to me it seems like... you really need to get something off your chest here.”

The sound of Whooves’ heavy breathing could be heard by all, with the added assistance of the mic attached to his collar. As time went on it became harder and harder to hear his strenuous gasps for breath as he quickly regained his resolve. Taking a step back, so he wasn’t so much in Jon’s face, he finally said something.

“Fine,” Whooves said. “I’ll explain.”

Turning on his hooves, the quirky time traveler walked back to his seat with careful steps as to not slip on the various pages littered about. With a quick hop he lunged forward where he was caught by his sturdy chair and, after reaching out to grab the table, he promptly scooched himself back into his previous position.

“But before I begin let me make myself clear... Derpy is not crazy,” Whooves reiterated as he adjusted his bow-tie and suit. “She’s just... it’s a long story.”

“I have time,” Jon said. “Please… help me... understand.”

After another quick deep breath Whooves proceeded to do just that.

“Well then... what you need to understand first of all is that... well like I’ve said already, the future is much different than present Equestria, much different. In the future our unfair economy means that social classes have never been more separate, to the point where if we're not arguing amongst each other we’re at war with another nation,” Whooves explained. “And while it’s true that Zenith and I are responsible for helping bring forth a new era of philosophy there are also dangerous civilian revolutions with unseen forces controlling them... basically what I’m saying is that life in my time is difficult... and Derpy never liked it... I’ve always said that she’s a pony born far too late in life.”

“Was she always... you know,” Jon said, making circling motions with his hands around his head as he had no other way of asking such a question.

“If you’re asking if she’s always been as... quirky as she is now then the answer is ‘no’... she actually used to be quite smart and...” Whooves paused to gather his thoughts as he took a quivering, deep breath. “Remember how I said I tutored her while I was a professor?”

“Yes, yes I do,” Jon said. “You said that… t-that it was a deal with her mother, that in exchange for her food you helped her daughter… Derpy in her studies.”

“Correct, but later, when I actually got to know her on a more personal level I did it just to help her... you see both Derpy and her mother were very poor, which is why she couldn't properly pay me to help her transfer out of the lower level college she attended. Even giving me free drinks and food was enough to put them in the red sometimes,” Whooves explained. “You may be wondering why if they were so tight for money did they live in Canterlot or for that matter try to admit Derpy into the most expensive school in all of Equestria.”

“That thought did come to mind,” Jon said. “No offense, but I’ve met your wife before... it seems like you two come from completely different walks of life.”

“You’re right in assuming that, usually the two of us would have never met, but we did... and you can thank Derpy’s mom, Dizzy Doo, for that,” Whooves said.

“Her mother?” Jon asked. “What does she have to do with this?”

“When it comes to Derpy she had everything to do with this. No pony has had more of an influence than that woman... you see there’s this old saying that the closer you are to Canterlot Castle the better your life is, and Dizzy took that to heart,” Whooves continued. “All she ever wanted was the best for her daughter so when she was very young she moved to Canterlot where she started her own business to try and support the both of them.”

“Where was Derpy’s father?” Jon asked.

“He passed away when Derpy was young, back when they lived far out west. So as you can imagine it was difficult living in Canterlot when most residents who lived there did so for many generations and didn’t need to work since they were blessed by old money,” Whooves went on. “But that never stopped Dizzy from trying to provide her daughter with the best even though they had nothing when they first arrived. Their cafe did alright but they barely scraped by, it got even worse when Derpy was old enough to attend college. Dizzy wanted her daughter to attend Hoofington but there was no way they could afford it so Derpy went to a local community college first to try and transfer on a scholarship and even that was almost too expensive for them.”

“So Derpy and her mom had a hard life,” Jon commented. “But if I recall... there was more to it than that.”

“Oh so much more. You see, when they arrived in Canterlot they did so right around the time Zenith did; ponies other than Unicorns were not exactly greeted with open hooves just yet. So both Dizzy and Derpy were harassed for just being different,” Whooves said. “Dizzy never let it bother her as she was above all that... but her daughter... Derpy hated it. When she was younger ponies at school picked on her for being poor, for not being a Unicorn, and--”

“And because of her eyes,” Jon added.

“This is why she had problems making friends or letting anyone get close. Hell, when I first met her she hated the fact that she was getting tutored by someone half her age... self-esteem issues don’t just vanish,” Whooves explained. “No matter where she lived, how old she was, there was always something about her that made her the object of ridicule.”

“I actually do remember her talking about this when I interviewed her,” Jon recalled. “She uh, told me that... t-that when she was young ponies would make fun of her for having crooked eyes... but then whenever she felt sad her mother would cheer her up by making her a muffin.”

“It was never really about muffins... but rather her mother Dizzy providing the emotional support Derpy needed growing up,” Whooves said. “Her mother always knew what to say to cheer her up and despite living in poverty and having multiple jobs and her own business she always had time for her daughter. She was as hard working a laborer as she was a dyed-in-wool mother.”

“You know there’s-- I’ve been wondering something about the two of you... that is how... do your parents feel about you guys just running off the way you did?” Jon asked which made Whooves tense up. “I mean you’ve been going on about how Dizzy was willing to risk everything to give her daughter the best in life and... and, and, how the only pony Derpy ever relied on was her own mother so how are they okay with... with living a thousand years apart from each other?”

It was a question that Jon had on his mind for some time now. Two star-crossed lovers eloping was not unheard of and would occasionally make the premise of a cheesy hollywood film. But this was an extreme even by Equestrian standards. There was no way Jon could know just how much of an emotional strain it would be for Whooves to answer this question.

With a hefty sigh, Whooves placed his hooves over his face like he was trying to wash himself with unseen substance. Even though he could by nature never forget anything he wished time and time again that he could forget what he was about to reveal to not just Jon but to the entire world. He was about to go to a dark place he thought he’d never have to go again and now he was determined to bring everyone down with him.

“She’s... Dizzy’s not around anymore,” Whooves struggled to say. The crowd collectively either gasped or placed their hands over their mouths to prevent them from doing so.

“What do you... what happened?” Jon asked.

“Well... as you know when I made my time machine I did so because I wanted to win the billion bit reward... I did this because I wanted to support Derpy and her mother for the rest of their lives,” Whooves said, unintentionally gaining a series of awwws from the audience. “And of course I did make it, that part was no problem.”

Another unexpected reaction came in the form of the audience chuckling at Whooves casual recollection of attaining time travel.

“But you didn’t give it to Boltshock because you wanted to make sure it was ready for him, right?” Jon asked.

“Actually that was a lie,” Whooves admitted. “When I finished my time machine I had all the time in the world to give it to him, no pun intended, but I was distracted with something extremely important. It was only luck that later on that same year it was revealed that Boltshock was planning on using the power of time travel to his own greedy advantage.”

“Okaaaay but you... But what I don’t understand-- what could possibly have been so important as to keep you from cashing in on that billion dollar prize money?” Jon asked. “Wasn’t that the whole point? To get the money so you could support Derpy?”

“Jonathan... all I ever wanted was to make Derpy happy,” Whooves said, his face wincing in pain. “When we met I just wanted to be her friend and help her as much as I could... and as an adult all I wanted was to be with her and to take care of her forever... that’s why her mother liked me so much... because we both just wanted what was best for her.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Jon said. “W-what what happened?”

Even though he was out of water Whooves grabbed ahold of his Daily Show mug with a tight grip like he was afraid it would run away.

“Dizzy... was killed,” Whooves finally said.

This time there was no reaction from the audience; just silence.

“Derpy’s... Derpy’s mom died?” Jon asked in shock.

“No, she was murdered,” Whooves answered. “I remember far too vividly. Shortly after the completion of the Tardis I went to their house to tell them the good news. When I arrived I felt as if something was wrong... it was dark and I could feel an uneasiness in the air like something had gone wrong. My suspicions were validated when I found Dizzy’s body in the living room... there was evidence of a break in and a struggle, whoever did it was long gone by then. It was a horrible sight; blood was everywhere.”

“Jesus, Whooves I’m... I’m so sorry,” Jon said. His years of training on television made it so he could still go on with the interview despite his wanting to take a break. Most, if not all, of the emotional outcry was being made by the audience. “How did... I hate to have to ask but where was she at the time… how did Derpy take this?”

“Not well,” Whooves said. “Not well at all.”

Tilting his head back, Whooves glanced upwards at the ceiling which was a sprawling playground of running wires and light fixtures. He never thought he’d have to say this again.

“The problem with having eidetic memory is you can recall not just what you see or hear but how you felt as well, sometimes this can be very annoying,” Whooves complained. “I remember everything from that day, everything from what I saw to what was said with the emotional pain that came with it. After I discovered the body I went looking for Derpy in fear that she was also in danger. I thought that perhaps she was in her room hiding, or ran away in fear, but I soon found her... she was in the kitchen... baking muffins.”

Pausing for a moment, Whooves allowed this image to set into the minds of those who could hear him. Jon was moments away from trying to get him to continue his story when Whooves again began to speak.

“‘Ditzy, what happened here, why are you in the kitchen!? Are you okay!?’” Whooves said, imitating himself from that day. “This was the first thing I asked her when I saw her and do you know what she said to me? She said the most heart wrenching... the most devastating of cruel things that she has ever said to me.”

“W-what did she say?” Jon asked.

“Jon she… she looked me straight in my eyes and said,” Whooves recounted as he braced himself, “‘Who are you?’”

This statement alone, and the implication that came with it, almost made Jon want to go into the future himself and comfort Whooves at that point in time.

“She... she forgot about you?” Jon asked.

“Jon she forgot about everything! Seeing her own mother dead proved too much for her so she retreated into her own mind. To put it in more scientific terms the emotional shock of her mother’s untimely demise caused her to undergo an extreme psychological disorder where she developed both dissociative amnesia and a severe loss of cognitive process,” Whooves explained as intellectually as possible. “Dizzy was the anchor that kept Derpy from falling into a depressive state her entire life. It was because of her that Derpy managed to survive so long despite having a hard life since the day she was born... basically with her mother gone she wanted to escape reality as quickly as possible... and that reality unfortunately also included me.”

“Are you saying... that the Derpy I know today... her personality, her bizarre childlike sense of misdirection and her tendency to be forgetful... is all because of a mental breakdown?” Jon asked, regretting every time he felt annoyed by her.

“Yes and no... before her mother’s death she could be quite articulate and thought provoking as well as serious. But at the same time she had days where she could be carefree and spontaneous... she did have a tendency to be forgetful or clumsy which I always found cute about her, but afterwards those charming qualities... it was as if they were pushed to the extreme,” Whooves answered. “When I saw her… the day her mother passed on… it was like she had reverted back to being a child. She practically had no memory of anything from her past and it was incredibly difficult for her to create new memories. You could be talking with her and she’d have no idea where she was... but at the same time she was... happy... as if this is what she wanted, to be entirely unaware of anything around her. It... it sickened me.”

“So then... what did you do?” Jon could only ask. “What happened afterwards?”

“I did what I could Jonathan,” Whooves answered. “After the initial shock I took it upon myself to look after Derpy. She still couldn't remember me... or really anything, but I was determined to bring her back!”

This was a declaration that did not need further inquiry because Jon already knew the answer; he failed.

“I know what you’re thinking and you’re right... I didn’t do it. I tried every psychological treatment I could think of: cognitive therapy, scent therapy, herbal supplements, cerebral stimulation, showing her old pictures of herself, I had a colleague use his magic to try and jumpstart her basic neurological functions,” Whooves listed frantically. “... I even stooped so low as using hypnosis for godsake!”

“But nothing worked,” Jon added.

“No... and I was at my wits’ end. It was disheartening to know that after Dizzy’s death Derpy was prancing about in her own little world and I was going crazy trying to find a cure.” Whooves sighed, regretting his choice of words. With a grunt he collapsed forward, sending his head straight into the desk. “It seemed like she was fighting me at every turn so... I was beginning to think I’d never see her again.”

“But something had to have changed, right?” Jon assumed. “I mean you two eventually ran off together and now live a happy and simple life... what was the turning point?” Slowly, as if being revived, Whooves lifted his head upwards to address the host.

“A simple life.” Whooves chuckled under his breath. “That is what she always wanted.”

“Excuse me?” Jon asked. Ignoring him for the time being, he instead recounted Jon’s previous inquiry about what had changed.

“I still remember the day I realized that the Derpy I once knew was gone forever,” Whooves began. “It was a few months after the incident. At the time she was living with me and I spent most of my nights held up in my room trying to come up with new methods for which to try and help her... but one night she was awoken by a loud droning sound... not the sound of me hard at work with a new treatment therapy but by me sobbing uncontrollably in my room... I had hit my low point.”

“And this was the so-called turning point?” Jon asked. “What happened?”

“Like everything else, Jonathan; I will never forget,” Whooves began. “She came into my room to investigate and saw me hunched over my desk crying over a picture of her that I had taken years ago.”

As if a demon had possessed his body Whooves began to shift from right to left, sporting a different sounding accent in the process; a low and lame tone to represent Derpy and his usual posh voice to present himself. He then began to talk to himself, shifting between each accent.

“Mister? Why are you crying?”

“Oh... hello, Ditzy.”

“Ditzy? Who that is?”

“For the last time that’s you! Your name is Ditzy... DITZY!”

“Why are you crying, mister?”

“And again, my name is Whooves! Dr. Whooves! Please remember, why don’t you remember!?”

“Uuuum... remember what?”

“My... my na-- you know what... nevermind, just... just forget it!”

“Who’s that lady in the picture?”

“What?”

“That picture you haves... who's dat lady, she’s beautiful.”

“That’s… that’s you... this is a picture of... of... this... this is a picture of the most beautiful pony to ever exist, Ditzy Doo... my one true love who I promised one day to marry.”

“If you love her why are you crying?”

“I’m crying because... she left me.”

“W-why did she do that? Didn’t she love you too?”

“No, she did... I know she did but she left me... she left because she couldn't handle living in the world anymore and even though I don’t blame her... I just wish I could see her again.”

“Well... maybe you will someday.”

“No, she’s gone now. She’s gone and she’s never coming back. I’ll never see her again no matter how hard I try and... and... oh God, I think I’m going to puke again.”

“W-why!? Are you sick?”

“No... I’m just really, really sad right now.”

There was a moment of silence shared by all. Muffled whimpering could be heard from some audience members as other raised their hands to wipe away tears. Jon could only imagine what it’d be like to have a loved one so close and yet so far away.

“And then what happened?” Jon asked.

“Then... she did something that made me think... that perhaps, maybe... maybe things would be alright after all.” Whooves sniffled. “After hearing me out she took pity on me... in that moment she made me think that my Ditzy was still somewhere in there. After running down stairs to the kitchen she came back with a muffin that she had been saving... and gave it to me.”

The sentiment was simple yet Jon could tell how powerful it was. Again Whooves leaned to recount what happened.

“Wha-what is this?”

“It’s a muffin... whenever I was sad my Mama would make muffins to cheer me up.”

“You... you remember that!?”

“I don’t know where she is either. But I know she still loves me too! Before she left she made me this muffin for the very last time.”

“T-t-then... why are you giving it to me?”

“Because nice guys like you shouldn’t be sad.”

Some were hesitant about doing so but at that moment the crowd began to applaud the guest of the hour for having the courage to share with them such a painful moment of his life.

“So... what did that tell you?” Jon asked. “Did you still try and bring Ditzy back after that?”

“No... it was on that night that I was convinced that things weren’t ever going to be the way they used to be... and I came to the conclusion that that was okay... because a part of Ditzy was still inside of Derpy so even though she had changed that didn’t mean she was completely gone,” Whooves explained. “So from there I accepted her for who she now was... she was different but that wasn’t really a bad thing. On that day I lost Ditzy but I gained Derpy in her stead. From there I tried to live my life with her as she was and you know... it turned out pretty well.”

“So just like that?” Jon asked. “You went from losing your beloved one second and then gaining a new one the next?”

“It wasn’t easy Jonathan. I mean yes, at first it was awkward, knowing that this new pony was once my old love now foreign, but I learned that Derpy was charming and prolific in her own special way. It was like we had met for the first time all over again,” Whooves said. “I learned new things about her, and soon found that, although she had retconned her own psyche, there were still aspects of herself that remained... like the muffin example for instance. It was challenging at first, rebuilding our lives together from the ground up, but my love for her was unchanged and her love for me was rediscovered. Soon we renewed our promise to get married.”

“That’s... that’s so nice to hear, truly it is,” Jon said as the crowd began to applaud once more. “Good for you!”

“It may have been different but the way she cared about me and loved me was just the same as always. That part hadn't changed,” Whooves added.

“It sounds like you two... It really seems like you two at last found peace,” Jon said, feeling corny about the way he said it.

“Almost.” Whooves sighed. “Our lives would have continued perfectly but then... things went terribly wrong.”

“Wha-- again?” Jon asked. “What happened next!?”

“Not what,” Whooves said. “But rather who... Twilight.”

Old and new friends

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.”

Good ol' days

Never in her years did Zenith’s friend Ginger Snap ever believe she’d see the infamous Dr. Whooves again. She, as well as so many others, assumed that when he escaped the clutches of the oppressive government that struggled everyday to capture him that he would never return. And yet here he was.

Ginger Snap was present to witness the second coming of the most famous pony of not just her lifetime but many lifetimes to come and she was unable to express what this meant. But she did know one thing, she was happy. Surprised; but happy.

As was the case with her friend Zenith, who ignored the fact she looked and sounded as if someone was choking her, she eagerly sat back down in her chair and motioned for Whooves to do the same.

“Come now, Whooves sit, sit, sit,” he encouraged. “You gracing us with your presence is cause for celebration!”

“Uuuum?” Whooves verbalized, making sweeping gestures with a foreleg to demonstrate there were only two chairs available, both taken.

“Oh yes I see, well then... ah here we are. Ginger why don’t you get up and let our guest have your seat,” Zenith suggested, turning his attention back to his former student. “I’m sure she won’t mind standing for the duration of your visit.”

Usually Ginger Snap’s pride would have kicked in and she would scold Zenith for treating a lady with such discourteous etiquette, but she was still having trouble processing the fact that her once great idol was standing but a few feet away, just as well since in her continued shock she wouldn’t have been able to move out her chair at all. Fortunately the proper Whooves was there to show that chivalry was still alive.

“Oh don’t get up on my account Ms. Snap,” Whooves said as he placed his bag on the ground and plopped his flank along with it. “I’ll just sit here, it’s fine!”

“Unacceptable!” Zenith said. “I won’t have my most prized colleague sitting on the ground like some kind of... filthy barn animal! Here, have my seat then I’ll just--”

“It’s fiiiiine really!” Whooves assured him, reaching out to force him to sit back down. “I’m not staying very long so it’s alright, Zenny.”

“Eeh, very well then... a-and don’t call me ‘Zenny!’” Zenith grumbled. “Since you’re in a hurry let’s make the most of our time together, shall we? Ginger, pour our guest a spot of tea.”

When Ginger Snap didn’t do anything, or even look to have heard him, Zenith leaned forward to slam his cane on the ground to get her attention.

“Ginger!” Zenith yelled, now waving his cane in front of him for attention. “I said pour the young stallion a cup! We haven’t got all day!”

“O-oh, uh y-yeah sure,” she said, now having finally tore her gaze from the bowtie wearing Earthpony. “I’m... I-I’m sorry it’s just... you’re... you’re Dr. Whooves.”

“Argh, at this rate we’ll be here till nightfall,” Zenith grumbled, before taking a deep sigh and hoisting himself from his seat. “Fine, I’ll get the drink... and do stop glaring at our guest, you’re making him uncomfortable.”

“I’m used to it,” Whooves jested. “Even in the past where no pony knows who I am I still get the attention of young mares such as the lovely Ms. Snap here.”

While not one to be easily swayed by flattery, the long necked Unicorn found it difficult to not blush at Whooves’ obviously jesting, though still much appreciated, kind words.

“Aaaah youth, to be as arrogant and vain as you again.” Zenith sighed as he came back with a new cup. “Don’t get too big headed my young friend... why I’ll have you know when I was your age I was quite a hit with the mares myself.”

This statement alone was enough to break delusions clouding Ginger’s mind, like someone popping a balloon next to her face.

“Is that right?” She glared at him while he poured Whooves his drink. “Dr. Whooves pay him no mind, he’s just an old fool!”

“Ha ha! Just like always, huh?” Whooves chuckled as he took his drink from his mentor who shot them both dirty looks. “Duly noted Ms. Snap... and please just call me Whooves.”

“O-oh my!” she exclaimed at the prospect of addressing him so informally. “Very well but only if you call me Ginger.”

“Deal,” Whooves said, taking a sip of his tea which was a brand that didn’t exist back home. “So Ginger... how do you know my mentor?”

“Oh Zenny and I go way back, isn’t that right dear?” Ginger answered with Zenith refusing to do the same. “I’ve never known him as a colleague like you two... but nevertheless we’re old friends.”

“Is that right?” Whooves said, sounding surprised since this pony looked rather young compared to his mentor. “I had no idea Zenith had any friends.”

“Do you hear that? Do you hear the mouth on this one!?” Zenith said as he reached over to lovingly tussle Whooves’ mane as hard as he could.

“Oh leave him alone, dear.” Ginger chuckled. “Besides, he’s right in his assumptions.”

Leaning back in his seat, Zenith gave Ginger a dirty look like he smelled something off.

“So... am I to assume you’re the one making sure he stays out of trouble after I left?” Whooves asked.

“Trying to,” she said, sighing.

“Yeah, he’s a handful alright,” Whooves said. “When we were partners he worked such long hours I had to beg him to eat and sleep.”

“I know the feeling. Since he’s technically not suppose to leave this area of land I take it upon myself to bring him food and supplies every now and again myself,” Ginger said. “I’m here so often we practically live together and I find I have to coax him to take it easy as well.”

“Hey, hey, does he still do that thing where he gets mad if you leave the lights on but you’re not in the room?” Whooves asked.

“Oh lord yes!” Ginger blurted.

Both she and Whooves laughed at Zenith’s expense, forcing him to hammer his cane against the floor for attention, albeit not as hard as when he did so with Ginger.

“Alright children, shall we move the conversation away from me thank you very much!” Zenith announced, causing both his guests to chuckle. “This... momentous day is not... about me but rather… about the return of the greatest treasure known to us. The infallible genius who transcended being but a mere pony and instead became a symbol... for anypony, be they of the Earth or of the sky... a symbol as well as an eternal idea that we have it within ourselves to do the impossible and break free from our restraints passed down to us by an unjust system... the greatest pony to ever exist or ever will... Dr. Whooves.”

Ginger had this unspoken rule for when the two got together that if Zenith ever went past three sentences he’d talked too much, but she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his quick speech. Growing up in a world where being different was cause for hatred and being governed by an evil being she knew all too well what Zenith spoke of. She could remember a time in Canterlot where the weak and strong were divided by net worth rather than ideas.

Overcome by his words she began to applaud him which reminded herself about how good her life was now thanks to the two Earthponies in this very room. Whooves on the other hand just buried his face into his own hooves as he arched himself back to let out a drawn out moan.

He hated when Zenith talked about him like this.

“For the love of... Zenith please stop!” Whooves begged.

“What? It’s the truth!” Zenith said, now turning to his long necked friend. “Did you know back when I was a professor I had open hours all day for anypony to see me and rarely did any of my students do so! And if they did it was to ask for an extension or see what their grades were. Whooves wasn’t even a student and yet he came to visit me everyday to discuss studies and theories that nopony else could comprehend... his thirst for knowledge was that strong!”

Nodding her head Ginger found herself expressly impressed. Whooves however was determined to keep his friend from glorifying him any longer, he knew that if he didn’t get him to quiet now he’d never stop

“Hate to break it to you my old friend but I was nine at the time,” Whooves reminded him. “I only came to see you because you always had that bowl of candy on your desk.” Ginger found herself giggling at his jesting while Zenith just shook his head.

“Do not take him seriously, Ginger,” Zenith advised. “Whooves here is the type to try and downplay his own intelligence for some reason... but in actuality he’s far more cunning than he’s willing to admit. Why I remember this one time where he--”

“Hey Zenith,” Whooves interrupted before he could open his mouth again. “If this is such a... momentous occasion why isn’t there any music?” Zenith was just about to take a sip of his drink when he lurched forward so quickly he almost spilled its contents upon himself.

“Good lord you’re right! I never did fix that damn record player!” he blurted as he struggled to get up despite Ginger begging him to do so at a slower pace. “Today has to go just right or it won’t be special! Everything has to be perfect!”

Before he could rush off, though at his age he could barely do that, Whooves reached out to address him, grabbing ahold of his bad leg by accident.

“Hey before you go Zenith I have something for you,” Whooves hinted. Reaching into his satchel bag he began to look for something. “I got this for you from my new time period because I know you’re a fan.”

“You... got me something from the past?” Zenith questioned. “Oh Whooves... f-far be it for me to lecture you on something like time travel but isn’t it a bit unethical to remove something from the day of old? I mean for all we know this could.... oh my God.”

Zenith found himself cutting his lecture short at the sight of what Whooves had pulled out from his bag. It was a square folder with a picture of a pony on the front and a vinyl record on the inside. Even a thousand years ago these were slowly starting to become obsolete so in this time period they were almost impossible to find. Which is why Zenith was stunned to see the image of a familiar looking Earthpony on the front cover, eyes closed as she worked her cello.

“Is that... i-i-is that an original Octavia piece!?” Zenith stammered.

“Sure is! Mint and first edition copy of her original symphony!” Whooves bragged. “I even got her to sign it for me.”

“You... you’ve actually met her!?” Zenith blurted.

“Yeah she’s actually my neighbor,” Whooves said in the most deadpan voice he could muster. “Nice girl but she’s kind of a prude... and her girlfriend keeps me up at night with her constant wubs.”

With all this information being hurled at him at once he found it difficult to focus on one thing. His mouth was moving but no words came out. This day was just getting better and better for him.

“I can’t believe... my greatest colleague not only returns to me... but also bestows upon me the most rare of treasures... an actual recording of Octavia herself!” Zenith finally said, quickly taking turns to look at both his guests. “She’s a legend you know! Greatest composer to ever live and she was an Earthpony at that! I grew up listening to her works and thinking how... h-how beautiful her rhythm was and... and... goodness this is just all too much! Her music is really a good representation of Earthpony culture you know. Like in the second act of her third symphony she experiments with the use of the crescendo which is widely believed to be an allusion of the trials and tribulations associated with having one's identity unfairly maligned with--”

“Zenny dear I believe our young friend would enjoy it better if you actually played the damn thing rather than talk about it,” Ginger said, shaking her head. Whooves found much enjoyment in her.

“Y-yes... yes you’re right!” Zenith blurted. “I’ll be right back! Y-you two stay here and get better acquainted while I go prepare the atmosphere… go ahead and… do whatever it is you young ponies do nowadays.”

As he exited the room Ginger picked up a throw pillow she usually kept behind her back and literally threw it at Zenith, purposely missing as she didn’t want to hurt him.

“Sorry about him... he can quite the handful,” Ginger said. “Though I don’t have to tell you that.”

“You know... I’m grateful that he has somepony to look after him but I must admit... you being here surprises me,” Whooves commented. “I was being facetious before but for him to have a friend like you... again it just surprises me.”

“Like me?” Ginger said in a high pitched declaration.

“A Unicorn I mean... let's not kid ourselves here, 'Zenny' doesn't like your type ” Whooves observed in a non-aggressive tone, as he could hear the sound of music playing from the other room. “I never knew him to be one to have friends, only co-workers you see... if that, and yet... there’s something about you most familiar... I can’t put my hoof on it.”

“My, my, my... as clever as always.” She sighed as she looked at Whooves with eyes that looked like they’d seen much. “It’s so good to see you again, Whooves.”

“Again?” Whooves echoed. “I’m sorry but... have we met before?”

“Oh yes, a couple times, but never in conversation. I visited your house a few times but I’m sure you don’t remember... you were about this tall at the time,” she explained, lowering her hoof to a few inches off the ground. “Goodness you were young back then... and now look at you all grown up... your parents were always so proud of you.”

“Madam I must say you have me genuinely surprised,” Whooves expressed. “I never forget a face and I certainly don’t remember you... and yet you know me and my family?”

Before she could answer she was momentarily distracted by Zenith’s limping back into the room while the sound of the music was more easily noticeable now that they weren’t talking anymore.

“Ginger... perhaps it’d be easier for our young friend to recognize you if you showed him what you used to look like,” Zenith hinted as he sat back down, letting out a large sigh of relief now that he could hear his music playing as he tasted his new tea. “Oh you’ll love this as well Whooves! Go on Ginger, show him! Show him your best parlor trick!”

“I hate it when you call it that,” Ginger snapped. “I’m not some kind of trained dog.”

“Well... you were that one time,” Zenith shot back.

“Yes and never again!” she commented. “You have no idea how disgusting it is when you’re--”

“As much as I find this all quite... fascinating,” Whooves interrupted, already guessing what was going on here. “I am in a hurry.”

This was a lie.

“Ah of course,” Ginger apologized. “Allow me to... show you an example.” Rotating her shoulders she let out a sigh and closed her eyes.

Without any noticeable effort thereafter Ginger made a bright green surge of energy appear around her midriff. Half of the energy escalated to her head while the other half shot down to her hooves. While this was happening the texture of her surface changed as did the color of her mane, eyes, and coat in conjunction with the energy flowing around her body.

In the blink of an eye Whooves found himself enjoying a lovely spot of tea with his mentor and a pony who looked just like him.

“Interesting,” Whooves said, admiring the exact representation of his person sitting just a few feet away. “You’re a changeling.”

“Well of course she is!” Zenith laughed. “Do you honestly think I’d willingly allow an actual Unicorn to set hoof into my house?”

“Oh Zenny dear don’t say such things!” she scolded, though now talking in a posh accent exactly the same as Whooves.

“Zenith never told me he was friends with a changeling,” Whooves added.

“I made him promise not to tell anypony,” Ginger said, giggling. “And in exchange I helped him out in life... whenever I could.”

“Yes, at the time I had no idea I was signing up for a full time committed babysitter,” Zenith sneered. “Honestly it’s not your job to look after me anymore, you know.”

“What can I say?” She winked as she took another sip. “Old habits die hard.”

“Exactly... how long have you two known each other?” Whooves asked.

“Oh many, many years,” Ginger cheerfully answered.

“Indeed, we first met back when... back when I lived in that dreary old Castle up in Canterlot,” Zenith revealed. “Back then however she went by a much different name, didn’t you?”

“I sure did!” Ginger said using her magic once again to change her appearance. This time she took on an entirely different look which consisted of a white body and a murky blue mane. She grew a larger than average horn and her muscle tone expanded but still kept a slender look. These features were difficult to notice what with the full set of armour she was now wearing which covered her Cutie Mark of two spears. “Lieutenant Silver Lake of the 23rd brigade at your service, sir!”

Again Whooves was surprised to find a strong sounding war pony now sitting in the room, her voice still feminine but roaring with proper authority as she saluted the two civilians.

“One of the Canterlot guards was a Changeling?” Whooves asked. “My, how... embarrassing for them.”

“Ye-heh-es, those idiots never discovered her true identity and to this day never had the slightest idea,” Zenith mocked with much delight. “Shows how... incompetent those in charge can be.”

“I may have spent most of my life serving the queen back in the colony but that doesn’t mean I was out of touch with your ways of life!” Ginger interjected, her voice still authoritative but not enough to get Zenith to take her seriously. “I liked to think they never found out because I’m a good actor.”

“You can’t be that good if a child found you out,” Zenith shot back as he idly swirled his beverage.

“Excuse me?” Whooves wondered out loud. “You did what now?”

“Ah yes, you see back when I worked for the Castle I was appointed as a soldier to work under Zenny’s father back when we were at war,” Ginger explained. “But during peace times I was assigned to the Castle where I was to protect the royal family... this was before Twilight and Chambermane got married so I got to know everypony.”

As she was explaining herself Whooves caught a glimpse of Zenith making a sour face at the mere mention of his mother.

“Why I still remember the day her majesty brought baby Zenny home from the hospital!” she squealed, leaning over to pinch his cheek. “You were soooo cute back then!”

With a grunt Zenith slapped her hoof away from his face as violently as he could.

“Finish the story!” he demanded which just made her chuckle.

“Anyway... when Zenny was five years old he discovered who I was,” she explained. “I tried my best to keep my mannerisms consistent with the norm but he still figured me out... clever boy. I begged him to not report me and to my surprise he didn’t. In exchange for allowing me to continue serving the family and country that I loved so I had to help him whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted.”

“Ah, and I can see why he chose to help you,” Whooves commented. “You weren’t the only one who felt like an outsider in the Castle.”

This was completely true. Growing up as a changeling trying to make a living in the world of normal ponies she always felt like an outcast, a feeling shared by a lonely Earthpony surrounded by royal Unicorns. This more than anything made Ginger appreciate and want to protect him even after neither of them were residents of the Castle.

“Please Whooves, do not mistake my actions for sentimental reasons,” Zenith implored. “I merely thought that having a shapeshifter in contacts would be a good advantage.”

“And was it?” Whooves asked.

“Was it ever!” Zenith answered. “Anytime I needed a quick decoy young Ginger here was... ready to assist. You see, since she was a royal guard she had no choice but to do what I asked of her.”

Looking over at the ageless insectoid Whooves noticed how she was shaking her head but at the same times sporting a weak smile, no doubt another trip down memory lane.

“It’s true... whenever Zenny wanted something which required him to be in two places at once he always had me change my appearance to look like him,” Ginger added. “I remember one night this little rascal stayed up well past his curfew to sneak out late so he had me roam the Castle disguised as him so no one would notice.”

“And no pony saw through your act?” Whooves asked with a raised eyebrow of slight doubt.

“Not a one. Even his own mother didn’t put two and two together whenever I did this,” Ginger explained as she now began to look guilty about this achievement. “Though it was easy enough to convince her I was her son, all I had to do was not talk to her while putting on a grumpy face whenever she was in the room.”

With no time to reflect on how sad her explanation was Zenith jumped right in to get to the point of what made her such a valuable asset.

“But the best use I ever got out of our deal was the day I ran away,” Zenith said. “When I fled the Castle my damnable mother paid no expense to try and bring me back... but the reason they never found me is because of Ginger here.”

Looking back at the armour clad Unicorn, Whooves was eager to hear this story.

“Yes well... before his escape Zenith approached me in private and told me his plan point for point. He then told me he was cashing in one last favor right there and then,” Ginger recalled. “You see, when he left her majesty sent out many scouting squads to cities all over the world to find him. I was one of the ponies assigned to do this. The plan was every time I was sent to a far off land I would transform myself to look like Zenith and purposely be spotted to throw everypony off... nopony suspected he’d be in Ponyville right under everypony's noses.”

“And you were okay with this?” Whooves asked. “Deliberately deceiving the royal family that you loved oh so much?”

With a tilt of her head she looked over to Zenith to give him a smile.

“If it was for Zenny I was okay with it,” she said with Zenith avoiding her gaze by taking another sip of his tea. “We didn’t see each other again till he returned several years later... at the time I was still employed by the Castle but when I heard he was back in town I quit the force, changed my appearance and approached him to give my support for his cause.”

“Yes, and if I’m correct this is where you know her from, Whooves,” Zenith added.

“Oh really?” Whooves asked.

“Yes quite right,” Zenith said. “Do you recall how hard it was for me to find an assistant back at the university?”

“Of course, everypony joked that you killed each and every one of them because they couldn't live up to your standards. I swear, the way you yelled and belittled them... you must have went through five aides a month,” Whooves recalled as something clicked in his mind while turning to face his new Changeling friend. “Oh yeah, before you there were so many like...‘Apple Cider,’ ‘Daisy Duke,’ ‘Silver Lining,’ ‘Keystroke,’ there was ‘Somersault,’ ‘Criss Cross,’ ‘Oven Mitts,’ ‘Stun Lock,’ and... and only now do I realize that they were all you.”

“Guilty,” Ginger chuckled. “Zenith never trusted any pony to get too close except for me.”

“Please woman, don’t act so high and mighty,” Zenith snorted. “I only settled for you because I knew if you ever went rogue I had your secret to keep you in line. I also had her change her appearance ever so often so ponies wouldn’t get suspicious. I wanted to maintain my image of being a tough boss.”

Looking almost proud of himself, Zenith leaned in to refill his cup. He didn’t notice Ginger adjusting herself in her seat so she could talk into Whooves’ ear.

“He likes to pretend that he doesn’t care but really he just didn’t feel comfortable working with somepony new,” she whispered. “He’d never admit to it but he wanted a friend constantly by his side.”

“And your constant changing of forms?” Whooves asked.

“He just had me do that because he knew I’d be helping him even now and he didn’t want to explain why he kept the same assistant for so many decades,” she whispered back.

“Oy!” Zenith blurted to the two, causing them to flinch. “What are you kids whispering about!?”

“Oh nothing! I was just explaining to Whooves here how uh... how one of my duties while I assisted you was helping spread your message and acting as an intermediary,” she explained before turning back to the younger of the two stallions.

“Ah yes, that’s right,” Zenith agreed. “Before I was known for my work I didn’t have numerous followers to organize events or charity drives like I do now. Back then I had Ginger run errands for me regarding my work.”

“This meant that I met with many important ponies and organizations who later supported Zenny in his cause and made donations,” Ginger added. “As a matter of fact I recall once acting as a delegate for a certain family after Zenny became famous... yours, the ‘Whooves family.’”

Taking a quick breath, the same green light shined around her, transforming her into a pink earth pony with green and red striped hair, thick black glasses, multiple freckles, and a frumpy turtle neck which covered most of her body but was short enough to show her cutie mark which was a notepad.

The way she balanced between wiping her nose with her oversized sleeves and constantly fiddling with her glasses was unmistakably familiar. Whooves immediately recognized her.

“You’re Rain Flower!” Whooves exclaimed. “I remember you! You used to come to our house back before we moved to talk to my parents.”

“Your father was a huge supporter of Zenny. Before he moved to Canterlot he’d either take trips over to meet with him or have me act as a messenger,” Ginger said, her voice now nazely like she had caught a cold. “Anyway, I’m impressed you could even remember that far back! You must have been two years old at the time, I’m flattered. To think I actually met you before you... I mean a-at the time I had no idea that you’d be so... so important! None of us did!”

“Yes, important enough for the Castle to try and capture him! Don’t get me wrong Whooves, what you did was spectacular and unlike anything ever accomplished but I still pains me to know that the Castle drove you away the way they did... with me I just got exiled to this field but you... they forced your hoof and now you life in another time,” Zenith grunted. “I swear Ginger, sometimes I envy you and your ability. If the Castle ever comes to arrest you for saying something smart you could just change your appearance and away you go.”

“Come now dear, the Castle isn’t that bad,” Ginger pleaded.

“Oh, is this some left over misguided loyalty for the royals I hear?” Zenith teased. “I suppose you can’t help yourself. From one corrupt monarch to another-- it’s all you ever knew.”

“No, it’s just... I did serve them for many years and I can tell you that whatever they do they do with the best intentions,” Ginger tried to say as tactfully as possible. “Forgive me Whooves for saying such things, I realize you and the Castle didn’t see eye to eye either.”

“By all means,” Whooves allowed. “It’s good to have a devil’s advocate.”

“All I’m saying is the Castle didn’t go after you and Whooves because they hated you,” Ginger tried to get him to see. “They were just... they were scared about some of the things you two experimented with as they didn’t know what it was.”

“You know... I suppose you’re right,” Zenith said, filling Ginger with a glimmer of hope before being completely dashed. “After all, how does that phrase go? ‘Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.’”

“Zenny please don’t say such things,” she pleaded. “Remember I used to work there and we all wanted what was best for you... especially your moth--”

“If you mention her name I’m throwing you out,” Zenith warned.

“Who, Twilight?” Whooves dared to say knowing full well that Zenith would never kick him out for saying anything. “Yeah if there’s anything he hates more than the Castle its his own mother. Hey Ginger, do you remember when the Castle tried to destroy all time travel spells?”

“Yes of course,” she answered while Zenith silently begged Whooves to stop this train of thought. “Zenny here was adamantly against it.”

“Yes but not at first, originally when we discussed it he was slightly in favor of the idea since it meant that those in power couldn't use it themselves… his exact words were ‘less magic in the world sounds like a good idea,’” Whooves imitated while Ginger thought about how accurate this also sounded. “But then when he later found out that the pony who orchestrated this movement was Twilight herself he did a 180... he hated magic yes but he hated the idea of being on the same side as his mother on an issue even more. That’s always been my acid test for determining where Zenith stands on an issue: ‘would Twilight approve of this? Yes? Zenith is against it.”

Covering his face by looking away and taking a sip, Zenith tried to hide his blushing.

“You see Zenny dear!” Ginger said. “It is possible for you and her majesty to be on the same side once in a while.”

“Not exactly the point of my story, Ginger,” Whooves commented before giving a shrug like he didn’t care. “But don’t let me stop you; keep on keeping on.”

“But it’s true!” she continued to argue. “You just need to give them a chance too--”

“Oh spare me your frivolous advice. Face it women, those royal types are all a pack of inbred morons just like their leader and you're still lingering sense of misplaced faith in them is ill put and idiotic,” he insulted. “Back when you worked for them... if they had found out you were a changeling they would have executed you on the spot!”

“Speaking of which, why aren’t you in your changling form now that we're behind closed doors?” Whooves asked to try and stop a possible argument. “I realize for a Changeling holding a form isn’t that much of a strain but it’d be more relaxing to let it all hang out... surely.”

This question was enough for Zenith to tense up and almost drop his beverage.

“My my, look at you with your knowledge on us Changelings,” Ginger complemented. “It’s true, Changelings do sometimes strain to hold a form, especially if it’s a complicated one. That’s why those who go around feeding are encouraged to go as children. The smaller size means less effort and kids are more likely to rake in the love and attention from adults.”

“So why not relax?” Whooves restated. “Throw your hooves on the table and let your wings stretch.”

“Because Zenith doesn't like me being in natural form,” she answered.

“Why?” Whooves asked.

“Because of this,” she said before quickly opening her jaw to reveal that, at the last second, she had changed the inside of her mouth to its original form, teeth and all; as well as adding a faint hiss.

“Son of a-- GOOD LORD WOMAN DON’T DO THAT!” Zenith roared as he grabbed his beating heart.

“He’s afraid of scary monster,” she added almost condescendingly. “Always has been ever since he was a child.”

“And what of your previous form?” Whooves asked.

“You mean this?” she said, turning back into her long necked version of herself. “I just wanted to try something new. Plus I never liked wearing the same outfit for too long.”

Even though she now looked the same as when Whooves first saw her she purposely kept her razor sharp teeth which, combined with her long neck, made Zenith extremely uncomfortable, like he was afraid she would easily lean over and bite him.

“For the love of God, put those things away!” he barked. “I hate it when you do that!”

“Oh really!? Well let me tell you what I hate, Mister!” she said, retracting her fangs. “I hate it when I come over after cleaning up your messes only to find this place is a pigsty again.”

“I never asked for you to clean up after me!” Zenith shot back. “In fact that’s another thing I hate! You always tidy up when I’m asleep and afterwards I can never find any of my stuff!”

“Well maybe if you organized your junk like I told you to this wouldn't happen,” she suggested.

“I told you I like it better when it’s messy, it helps me think more clearly!” Zenith proclaimed. “And another thing, this stuff isn’t junk!”

“Oh yes it is!” she argued.

“Is not!” he yelled. “Everything I have here is of the utmost importance!”

“Oh really!? Then how can you explain that half eaten potato I found on the floor this morning!?” she asked. “It was practically growing fungus on it when I threw it away!”

“That was you!” he barked. “I was saving that!”

“And another thing, a stallion of your age shouldn’t be eating such greasy foods!” she implored. “Disgusting! You need to eat more healthy products!”

“Oh what do you know about fine cuisine!?” he asked. “You’re a changeling, all you eat is love.”

“None of which I’m particularly feeling at this moment I might add,” she said, turning her head.

“Well excuuuse me but I find it hard to like you when you come over to wake me up at five in the morning!” he said.

“Sleeping in is also unhealthy!” she challenged. “If you don’t get up and walk at least half a mile each morning you’ll--”

“Okay you two, that’s enough!” Whooves yelled, silencing the two. “As entertaining as it is seeing you two go at it, and believe me it is... I did come here for a reason!”

After sharing a quick glare at each other with squinted eyes both ponies set aside their arguing for the good of their guest.

“Of course dear... please continue,” Ginger said.

“Yes my boy go ahead... just ignore her like I do and tell me what you need,” Zenith sneered, causing Ginger to do the same.

Feeling like he was an only child caught in between a divorced couple arguing for custody, Whooves let out a long and tired sigh before turning his head to Zenith, the pony he came here to see first and foremost.

“Okay... Zenith,” Whooves began. “What can you tell me about Clausus?”

History lesson

The pony known as Dr. Whooves was always considered to be a dangerously intelligent individual who never did anything just for the sake of it. He was analytical and always had a purpose, but at the same time was also known to be somewhat unpredictable.

As someone who knew him on a personal and professional level, the best way Zenith liked to explain it was he operated on a train of thought that only made sense to him and him alone. He had his own rationality that operated at a pace no one could keep up with. This made him unpredictable, as was the case when he revealed why he decided, after several decades, to return to his own time.

“Clausus?” Zenith asked. “You mean that neurological disease that affects the magicatory system?”

“Why do you want to know about that, Whooves?” Ginger asked.

“Ooooh just asking for a friend of a friend,” Whooves figured, now turning his attention on Zenith. “I assume you know a thing or two about it, Zenith?”

Exchanging odd looks both Ginger and Zenith then immediately poured themselves another helping of tea. They weren’t sure why he was asking about this seemingly random topic but they both knew enough to not question it too much.

“Might I ask why your friend is inquiring about a disease that hasn’t existed in almost half a century?” Zenith asked with a smirk on his face.

“The disease is dead?” Whooves asked knowing full well that that was the case. “Please Zenith... do tell.” He knew about the disease and its history almost more than Zenith himself. He also knew he had to dance with him on the issue to butter him up first.

“Well Whooves... as you may or may not know Clausus is a rare neurological disease. It affects only magic users, which vary from species to species, but is commonly known as the ‘Unicorn killer’ since they are the primary victims,” Zenith explained. “If a Unicorn is exposed to high levels of magic, long term or otherwise, there is a slight chance the magic will enter their magictory system and eventually spread to the brain where it slowly kills them from the inside out by poisoning their entire body and, depending on how much magic they absorb, determines how slowly they die.”

“But how can a Unicorn, or any other magical creature, be poisoned by magic if they themselves control that kind of power?” Whooves asked.

“The best comparison is if you or I get exposed to blood that either not our own type or is infected. There are different types of magic but you’re right, Unicorns are very tolerant of it since they are constantly exposed to it. But in some cases a Unicorn will be exposed to a dangerous amount of magic that isn’t the same as their own and when that happens it becomes toxic to them,” Zenith continued to explain. “This usually happens to soldiers who fight other Unicorns and get hurt during battle, but there have been scenarios where the innocent get exposed too. Matter of fact there was one interesting case where the wife of this Unicorn couple had unexpectedly caused the death of her husband.”

Ginger noted that only Zenith could talk so lively about dying Unicorns while at the same time calling them interesting.

“You see, this wife was a nurse so she knew all kinds of healing spells and her husband suffered from daily headaches caused by his stressful job. So for twenty years every day whenever he’d come home the first thing she’d do was use magic directly on his frontal cortex to cure him,” Zenith continued. “Of course this wasn’t enough to do any damage but since she did it everyday he eventually contracted Clausus very late in life. The irony was that she was curing him of his headache but at the same time slowly poisoning him... see things like this are why I never got married.”

“Hmph. That’s the only reason.” Ginger pouted under her breath which made Whooves chuckle.

“You say something, long neck?” Zenith snapped.

“No nothing,” she said, avoiding eye contact. “Please continue.”

“Anyway... the point is this disease had the properties of affecting any Unicorn whether it be on a long term basis of magic exposure or from absorbing an ungodly amount of opposing magic in one session,” Zenith explained. “But eventually a cure was found and circulated to the general public.”

“It’s true, when I was younger and in college the nurses department had a whole case of them and we students got free treatments as part of our tuition,” Ginger added. “Even if you weren’t sick if you could optionally still benefit from taking the antidote.”

“Exactly, because this was no ordinary cure, once a Unicorn took this medicine they soon found they could no longer fall victim to Clausus ever again,” Zenith continued. “And because of the wonder that is micro-evolution this immunity was then passed on to the next generation of ponies and now the disease is no more.”

“If this illness was so dangerous, and able to affect any Unicorn regardless of their class, why did it take until recently to come up with a cure?” Whooves asked, again already knowing the answer.

“Well first off I wouldn’t exactly call fifty years ago recent,” Zenith chuckled. “But to answer your question it’s because although it was very deadly it rarely ever happened. That and it only affected magic users so as cynical as it sounded ponies weren’t in a rush to waste their money curing a disease that almost never occurred. On average there’d be one reported case a year, maybe two.”

“Did no pony ever try to cure it?” Whooves asked.

“Another reason why it took this long... you see, there were some attempts but no pony ever came close. Not a single individual could come up with an answer for how to combat it let alone isolate the component necessary to study it,” Zenith explained. “Basically, it was almost impossible to cure a disease that rarely ever happened… so money and effort was focused on winning battles.”

“Okay then... since this was a magic based illness that usually only affected Unicorns, I’m going to guess it was the Castle that came up with a cure?” Whooves assumed just to annoy his teacher. “After all, they have the funding to undertake such a project, right?”

Were he anyone else Zenith might have thrown a fit and forced them out for suggesting such a thing, but for Whooves it was different, he could never fault him for anything he’d say.

“BAH! The Castle using their vast wealth to actually do something worthwhile and productive!? Don’t make me laugh! The amount of bits needed to cure any kind of disease would probably be used by them to hire entertainment or buy decorations for one of their fancy ballroom gallas they hold just to show off how cultured they are!” Zenith smeared in a condescending voice. “No of course the Castle didn’t cure the disease!”

“But they did try,” Ginger said in defense of her former employers.

“Yes... yes they did but it always ended miserably! In true incompetent fashion those working in the Castle were convinced that since the disease was caused by magic that only magic could be the solution. Hmph, irresponsible if you ask me,” Zenith added. “You don’t fight fire with fire you use water, comparatively you don’t solve a magic problem with magic you use science which is the only solution worth using!”

“Why Zenith!” Whooves gasped. “Are you actually implying that magic has no purpose in life?”

Adjusting himself in his seat Zenith poured himself another cup with Ginger following close behind.

“Do not get me wrong, although it may still serve some practical function, and at one point was the dominate form of ingenuity,” Zenith explained. “Magic is--”

“Magic is no match for the power of science,” both Whooves and Ginger added.

“Hm. I see I’ve taught you two well,” Zenith observed as his two friends giggled to each other. “Now then... as I was saying, the Castle was irresponsible with this issue and approached it in the wrong way. If they weren’t failing to address the problem and pretending it didn’t exist they were using unsafe procedures that never worked. I could count at least five instances where they killed an innocent Unicorn by trying to cure them through risky and unstable spells.”

“Four instances,” Whooves corrected.

“What?” Zenith asked.

“Oh nothing, continue.”

“Anyway... the pony who cured the deadly disease known as Clausus was a scientist,” Zenith revealed. “An Earthpony scientist at that.”

“You do not see a lot of those,” Whooves quipped which made everyone in the room chuckle.

“It’s even more impressive when you consider this was done fifty years ago... around the same time I returned to Canterlot and brought with me a new revolution based on science and independent thinking,” Zenith bragged as he got up from his seat. “I actually know this scientist... brilliant pony who really helped the movement when he showed the world that an Earthpony could do in one afternoon what a whole monarchy of Unicorns couldn’t do for several hundred years.”

“One afternoon you say?” Whooves repeated as Zenith made his way to the right side of the room, limping on his bad leg.

“Why yes... this brilliant scientist developed the cure in but a few hours,” Zenith continued as he finally arrived at his work desk. “In fact legend says that this Earthpony came up with the idea by going to his local zoo, there he observed an exhibit of parasprites.”

Pausing to search for something, Ginger took this time to shake her head and sigh before sipping her tea.

“According to him he was fascinated by how a mindless creature like the parasprite could instantly know only to eat food. Even though their digestive system can process anything from steel to plastic they only ate proper edibles because it was easier for them,” he said as he found what he was looking for, the key to his wall-cabinet. “This clever Earthpony was then inspired to create an antidote that could do that same... that once injected would know to only eat invasive magic like white blood cells attacking a deadly pathogen. On that day he created the curing drug and released his notes on how to make it to the world so anypony could use it. He didn’t want to profit from it in any way thus showing the world that Earthponies were as smart and kind hearted as anypony else.”

“Gosh golly gee willikers this pony sounds like such a stand up guy!” Whooves said while making over the top gestures with his hoof. “I wonder who this smart, benevolent, and handsome pony is!”

“Why my dear boy!” Zenith laughed as he produced a vial of green liquid from his medicine cabinet. “Who do you think!”

Turning point

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!”

Changing the past

At his age Jon couldn't really handle hard sessions of cardio and was usually advised to jog rather than run. If it wasn’t his legs than it would be his heart which wouldn't be able to withstand such strenuous effort, so he was told to not push himself too hard which out of all the orders a doctor ever gave him he gladly obeyed.

When his physician told him to cut out fatty foods with loads of preservatives or high protein content he argued and snuck in snacks behind his wife’s back. And when he was advised to help by using a daily note pad to check his pulse and record his consumption he found it too annoying a task to continue on a regular basis. But whenever his wife asked if he wanted to go jogging he was quick to remind her that the doctor said to not push himself, though she would just as quickly remind him that he didn’t mean to lay around watching the game and drinking another beer.

So it was safe to assume that Jon rarely ever listened to anything a doctor told him to do, which was the same case when he stormed his way back into the hospital section of Canterlot Castle.

“Hey slow down!” a Unicorn surgeon said as Jon ran through the entrance.

“Sorry!” he yelled back.

“Hey! No running inside the building,” a nurse scolded as well.

“No can do doc!” Jon said as he ran past the receptionist desk, making his way to the right side of the building.

“Good afternoon,” the Earthpony receptionist said, but Jon failed to hear since he was already barrelling down one of the main hallways.

Ignoring suggestion after suggestion and attracting the attention of some stationed guards, Jon continued to run through the crowded hallway, occasionally ducking a low flying pegasus or jumping over a nurse pushing a trolley of snacks for a patient. By this point he was probably accumulating enough cardio to break even with all the times it was actually deemed necessary. His towering presence and almost life or death attitude to reaching his destination made him impossible to ignore. He did eventually stop though it was nowhere near where he wanted to be, but rather at the halfway point. He did so to catch his breath.

Stopping at an intersection where the hallways split into three other locations, Jon leaned against the wall with one hand outwardly placed to steady himself. He was sweating so profusely that he was momentarily blind from salty excrements getting into his eyes. He was in a hurry yes but there was no way he could continue without first taking a breather.

While this was happening a pony nurse approached from behind out of concern for both her colleagues and the sprinting giant himself.

“Um Mr. Stewart,” she began. “I’m going to have to ask you to not run any more... it’s not allowed in Canterlot Castle.”

“I’m… sorry,” Jon said in between breaths while avoiding eye contact. “I... just... need to... get somewhere.”

“Where exactly are you heading to? Do you need--” she asked as her eyes were drawn to what was in Jon’s other hand, realizing what it was and momentarily horrified that it was a medical syringe. “Is... is that a--”

Before she could finish Jon dashed off, this time with a fresh assessment of where he needed to be. He may have only been to this room once but that’s all he needed; and after a few turns here he could finally see just ahead by a few feet where he wanted to be, Room 485.

“Trixie,” Jon thought as he increased his sprinting. “I’m coming for you.”

This time he had no intention of watching his step as he rushed down the narrow hallway, bumping into and knocking down pony after pony, some of whom were important enough that if Jon didn’t know Celestia he’d be in huge trouble, but he did not care.

Slamming the breaks just a few feet outside Trixie’s room, Jon slid into the door at the same time he grabbed the handle to open it. Unfortunately the door was locked which meant that instead of swinging the door open and running straight to his friend as planned he slammed headfirst into its wooden frame.

Groaning in pain, Jon momentarily lost control of his appendages, which meant that as well as falling down to one knee he had also lost the firm grip he had on the antidote provided to him by Whooves.

“NO!” Jon yelled as he watched the precious shot of medicine fall to the ground, colliding with the cold, hard ground of Canterlot’s marble flooring where Jon’s fears fortunately did not come to being. Instead of shattering the syringe of futuristic medicine merely bounced and rolled a few inches away, only bearing a few scratches.

Contrary to how he made his way to this destination, Jon now found himself unable to breathe at all. The prospect of coming this far only to fail by his own impotence was something that seemed too cruel a fate to be real. Slowly, as if controlled by someone else, Jon reached forward and grabbed his last chance at redemption and gripped it so hard he could feel his heart beating rapidly through his hand.

For the longest time Jon felt as if he was no longer in control of anything that was going on in his life. But as he stood there, medicine in hand, he could finally feel something that he thought impossible, he felt like maybe this wasn’t the case anymore. Words couldn't describe how he felt at that moment, but in his head he knew what was to take place after he got that door to open. If he was finally in control this was the time to show it. This was it, this is what he wanted, this was what he needed and nothing was going to stop him.

Turning to his side, and without waiting for someone to do it for him, Jon lifted his head and, placing his body weight forward, lunged at the door to kick it open like a policeman would do to apprehend a suspect.

Due to his increased height and weight he easily managed to break down the door, but at the same time also inadvertently kicked the pony nurse, who was helping Trixie, square in the face, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a serving tray and then into a wall. She would forever regret offering to open the door after the initial crash.

Jon’s plan at this point was to ignore all casualties and head to the only one who mattered, that being Trixie, but as he stormed the room he found himself stopping to see that as well as Trixie there were still quite a bit of ponies now occupying her room, all of whom were in scrubs.

At first it was difficult to tell who was who under so many layers of hair nets, face masks, and pure white hospital attire, but their size and tails were a dead give away. In Trixie’s room stood Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, and a couple of Unicorn doctors in place of where the royal guards usually were, in the background.

All eyes were now on Jon but his were glued to the only one that mattered to him, Trixie, who was lying in her bed unconscious with a breathing apparatus over her mouth. Jon was of course concerned.

“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded to know. “Why is everyone-- why is Trixie not awake!”

The many eyes there were once looking at Jon now shifted and were looking at each other, each of them wondering who would be the first to explain. The obvious choice was the one who brought them all together and who initiated this session, Celestia herself.

“Jon, I didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” she said, taking a few steps forward to give herself away.

“What’s going on here!?” he repeated himself, now looking into Celestia’s eyes, she still finding it hard to look back.

“I... we wanted to wait till after your show to tell you,” she explained, taking a deep breath and deciding not to sugar coat it. “We’ve decided to do away with our previous assessment of Trixie’s condition and try to cure her using the Entropy spell.”

Previously it was Celestia herself who said this spell wouldn't work and was quite adamant in her refusal to use it, so for Jon hearing this made him take a step back like her words were pushing him away.

“What... but I... but I thought you said it was too dangerous,” Jon said.

“I did say this yes but I have been swayed to think otherwise by something you said,” she explained. “You accused me of not having Trixie’s best interest at heart... and that if it were my most faithful student Twilight in her condition I wouldn’t think twice about trying to save her... and you were right. I now realize that if I am not to at least try to help her then I am, in a matter of speaking, failing Trixie as her leader. So it is for that reason that Twilight, my sister Luna who is on her way, and the best doctors in the hospital are to help me in performing this spell.”

Every pony in the room felt a sense of pride at the fact that they were to work alongside Celestia in her attempt to help this meager pony regain her life. Her inspiring words filled them all with a sense of pride they would then channel later to perform the spell.

Even the pony nurse felt inspired to get up and walk over to Trixie’s body, adjusting her mask and fluffing her pillow to make her more comfortable. Her job was to observe Trixie’s heart rate and general condition through a standing monitor on wheels nearby.

Arching her head slightly, Celestia looked over to Twilight who, even though she was wearing a mask, smiled at her teacher and gave her a slight nod to let her know that what she was doing was the right thing. This sentiment was not shared by Jon.

“FUCK THAT!” Jon yelled as he pushed his way past her royal highness. “Are you insane!? The Entropy spell is too risky to try on Trixie! It could kill her!”

The warm feeling shared by all who agreed to help Trixie was shattered and replaced with a sense of confusion as it seemed opinions between Jon and Celestia had been reversed.

“B-but that’s what we said!” Twilight called out in confusion. “And you were mad that we weren’t even going to try!”

“Yeah well that was then and this is now!” Jon said as he positioned the syringe in his hand. Without warning he approached Trixie’s unconscious body and muscled his way to her face, accidentally elbowing the pony nurse in the process and knocking her to the ground. “And I pick plan ‘B’”

“Jon,” Celestia said with much concern. “What is that?”

Ignoring her, Jon quickly lifted his arm in the air, his first instinct was to jab the needle straight into her heart Pulp Fiction style but the idea of slamming his clenched fist onto her chest made him rethink his approach. So instead he reached out to her neck and without a second of hesitation placed the needle deep where he knew a vain would be, wishing that his wife was doing this rather than him.

With his fist no longer covering most of the syringe those in attendance could now clearly see what is was and were horrified to see that Jon was now injecting some unknown green substance into her body.

“WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING!?” the doctor who was originally in charge yelled. “S-STOP! SOMEPONY STOP HIM!” But it was too late as every last ounce of the green liquid was now gone, residing inside of Trixie’s blood stream.

The first to try and stop the renegade human was the pony assistant who had to jump to grab his arm, the weight forcing the needle out of her neck. Without even thinking, Jon swung his arm to the side, sending the assistant pony flying across the room where she landed in pile of old dirty scrubs.

“GET HIM!” one of the other doctors demanded. All at once Jon was now being pulled upon by various ponies with the notable exceptions being Celestia and Twilight.

“WAIT! STOP IT!” Jon argued as the doctors tried their best to wrestle him to the ground.

“RESTRAIN HIM!” yelled one doctor.

“QUICK CALL THE ROYAL GUARDS” shouted another.

“LET… ME EXPLAIN!” Jon demanded, as he wanted to make sure every bit of medicine was used. Using their magic the doctors applied a variety of methods to restrain him, from using a spell to force him to fall to his knees to having his senses dulled so he’d be easier to overpower. Every official was working against him but the pony nurse who had at this point rushed by to her patient to check on her vitals through the monitor to see if she was still alive. And what she saw surprised her.

While this was happening Celestia just stayed back and watching in horror as her friend was slowly being overpowered. Her not wanting to get involved fueled by the fact that handling Jon was the right call as much as she didn’t want to accept it. Twilight on the other hand rushed to his aid.

“LET HIM GO!” begged Twilight.

“Doctor?”

“I SAID LET HIM GO!” Twilight repeated as she tried to use her own magic to break Jon free.

“GET HER OUT OF HERE!” one physician ordered.

“Doctor?”

“SHE’S HELPING THE ASSIGNMENT BREAK FREE!” he continued.

“Doctor?”

“HE’S NO CRIMINAL,” Twilight maintained. "DON'T HURT HIM!

Slowly Jon fell to his knees as he soon found that he was no match for those yanking him back, his vision starting to blur as the darkness took over.

“Tri...Trixie,” he tried to say over the sound of everyone yelling at each other, while reaching out to her.

“Doctor?”

“PRINCESS! PLEASE HELP ME!” Twilight begged when she wasn’t making much progress.

“Doctor?”

“Jon,” Celestia said in disbelief. “What have you done?”

“Doctor?”

“Good, he’s almost out!” one doctor said before turning to Celestia. “Your majesty! Quick, call the royal guards! We need to get him into a cell before he can do any more--”

“DOOOOOCTOOOOOOOOR!”

Suddenly the room went silent, with everyone frozen in time at the sound of an ear piercing shriek which came from the pony nurse who was still present and behind the terminal monitoring Trixie.

“Nurse! Now is not the time!” the main doctor, who was originally in charge of Trixie and was the nurses’ advisor said. “We’re sort of in the middle of something.” Taking a moment to think, the nurse then addressed her boss who was busily using her magic to restrain Jon’s arms behind his back.

“B-but it’s about... Trixie,” the nurse finally said which made Jon take notice even though he was nearly passed out.

“Oh dear sweet Celestia!” the doctor said. “What happened to her!? Is she alright?”

“Well... y-yes,” the nurse answered. “In fact, she’s... s-she’s been cured.”

This news was so groundbreakingly unexpected that the doctors who had tried to stop Jon lost control of their concentration, breaking Jon free from their restraints. The only sound that could be heard was from Jon who was breathing quite heavily while still on the ground.

“W... what did... you say?” the doctor asked as Jon slowly stood to his feet. “You’re... s-she’s cured?”

“Um... yes,” the nurse answered as she slowly turned to face the screen.

There were so many question floating in the air with not a single pony in the right mindset to ask them as they were too awestruck to produce words. Celestia herself could do nothing but look at Twilight who gave her the same look of unequaled surprise.

Soon all eyes were once again on Jon who, now regaining his strength, rushed over to the pony nurse to stand side by side with her, looking at the monitor that he didn’t even know how to read.

“S-s-so she’s alright now!?” Jon asked. “S-she’s going to live right!?”

“Well... I see... no trace of the invasive magic left anywhere in her system,” the nurse explained. “She’s perfectly healthy now... so yes... she’ll live.”

Even though this had already been established everyone present still couldn't believe it. And it seemed that even Jon didn’t think that would work based on how he lurched forward and buried his head into the terminal screen, like he had just fainted but the standing monitor caught him.

Slowly the nurse leaned in to see if he was alright but the second she got close Jon jumped back up and threw his arms up in victory, accidentally uppercutting the nurse, sending her flying through the nearby window and into a tree. No pony noticed this as they were too distracted by Jon’s sudden outburst.

“YES! HA, HA I DID IT!” Jon roared with a smile as tears streamed down his face. “I FUCKING DID IT!”

As if his newly electrified energy charged up everyone in close proximity, the doctors that previously tried to stop Jon then ran past him to take control of the situation. Three of them gathered around her body while the main doctor took the helm of the terminal.

“Okay folks, let’s make sure her condition is in fact stable!” she demanded as Unicorn horns could be seen scrambling about. “You! Take a blood sample to see if the disease is fully gone! You! Check her pulse and report to me if it dips at any point! And you! Let’s schedule a brain scan to be sure she’s mentally stable!”

“W-wait, can I talk to her?” Jon asked.

“Sorry sir but she won’t be awake for some time, we knocked her out with a lot of sedatives for the spell which we can’t do now,” the doctor explained. “After we’ve confirmed for sure she’s alright and she wakes up we’ll hand her over to you... if it’s alright with Celestia.”

Turning around so quickly he almost smacked Twilight, Jon gazed upon Celestia who had already taken off her medical garments, staring at her wide eyed like a begging dog.

“Of... of course it is,” she answered in a disbelieving tone, still unsure of what she had witnessed. Without even thinking about it, Jon jumped forward to throw his arms around her neck for an embrace. Celestia returned the gesture by wrapping her hoof around his back while Twilight came from behind to place a reassuring hoof against his thigh.

This subtle group hug didn’t last long with one doctor interrupting the moment by pushing Jon towards the door.

“Alright, alright everypony out, please,” he said, pushing both Twilight and Jon out but stepping to the side to give Celestia room to exit of her own accord. “We need to perform some quick tests to try and see what cured Trixie of her ailment! So for the rest of the day please leave us to our work.”

Jon wouldn't be able to talk to Trixie again for about 24 hours since the medical staff would have her temporally unavailable so they could isolate the substance used to heal her, unaware that the quick working medicine had long since deteriorated in her blood and would be impossible to replicate let alone analyze.

There was a large group of ponies, attendees and officials alike, who had gathered outside Trixie’s room after hearing all the commotion. When Jon exited the room they gathered in to see what was going on, but when Celestia revealed herself to be present they all scattered. Some tried to peek inside the room but the door was now shut.

Now in the hallway and no longer needed, Celestia had a nearby pony send word to Luna that her presence was no longer needed. And while everything had turned out better than expected, there was still a lingering question, Celestia finding now to be the perfect time to ask it.

“Jon,” Celestia began. “Where... did you get that?”

“Um… get what?” Jon shrugged, pulling a page out of Derpy’s playbook.

“You know ‘what’ Jon,” Twilight interjected. “That syringe filled with strange liquid... whatever it was... it... it cured Trixie!”

“Oh… OH! You mean ‘that!’” Jon Blurted as he backed away which caused both ponies to take a step forward. As skillfully as he could j “I uh... I found it.”

“You... found it?” Celestia said.

“Yeah that’s right!” he said.

“Where exactly did you find it?” Twilight asked.

“I... uh... I don’t remember,” he lied.

Growing more and more suspicious, Celestia and Twilight turned to face each other with equal degrees of uncertainty on their faces. They knew Jon wasn’t going to tell them and even though he hadn’t done anything wrong the fact that he somehow managed to get his hands on something that by rights should not exist meant it was of their utmost concern.

And yet... they were tempted to just leave it at that.

They both knew first hand the struggles Jon had to deal with lately. And while either of them could have easily used a spell to read his mind and reveal his secrets they decided to let him have this one. He had suffered enough.

“Okay then Jon,” Celestia said. “If that’s the truth... then I believe you.”

Going in for a hug one more time, Jon embraced his friend with a silent but mutual understanding on their part that he was being let slide by this one time.

“Thank you!” Jon said, now breaking free and slowly making his way down the hall. “Man this is great! I need to... I-I need to go! I need to head back home, get things prepared and tell Tracey and... and... AH, THIS IS AWESOME!”

“Here, I’ll help you with that.” Celestia chuckled as she escorted him to the exit. “I’ll show you the exit and send you home when you’re ready.”

“Thanks Celestia!” Jon said as the two disappeared around the corner. “And hey, maybe next time...”

With a sigh of relief and a newfound joy in her heart, Twilight watched as two of her most inspiring friends left together all smiles and laughs. Their friendship still in tact despite at one point looking as if it had been forever broken. Every day she was shown new ways of how the power of friendship was strong and ceaseless and this was just one more to mark down.

With plans to go back home and tell Spike all that had happened she got up and began to walk in the same direction as her two friends. However before she could the door to Trixie’s room swung open, catching Twilight’s attention. Immediately the main doctor poked her head out with purpose and did a quick scan before her eyes landed on the purple Unicorn who was but a few feet away.

“Oh, there you are Twilight!” she said.

“Doctor Gallops?” Twilight said.

“Come over here please, we need your help,” she added.

“Oh of course!” Twilight said as she ran back over. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Well I can’t find my damn nurse assistant anywhere so I need you to do a little errand for me if you please,” she said as she used her magic to produce something from behind her back. “I need you to take this down to the lab.”

Using her magic to make whatever it was hover in closer to her face Twilight realized that she was looking at a tiny bottle of thick red liquid.

“Is this...Trixie's blood?” Twilight asked as she motioned at the sample.

“Yes we need to run some tests to see if whatever that human used is still present,” she explained. “Hopefully they’ll be able to analyze what it was.”

Unbeknownst to either of them there wasn’t even the slightest drop of the medicine still left in her system and even if there was the technology they had was nowhere near sophisticated enough to properly identify what it was. Though since this request was in the pursuit of knowledge Twilight was all too eager to help.

“Sure thing Dr. Gallops!” Twilight said, using her magic to take the bottle ]into her possession. “I’ll get on that right away!”

Twilight didn’t come to this portion of the Castle very often but she still knew enough to know where the lab that the doctor was referring to was. So without a second thought she made her way down the hallways in the same direction that Celestia and Jon went.

This route brought her to a door that lead to one of the main stairways. Placing her hoof on the handle of the door that read ‘Stairway C’ she quickly opened it and began to briskly jog down the royal staircase which was isolated and confined to the point where she was now alone in a place of dead silence. She knew that for Jon he would have to head the the very bottom of the stair case to reach the way out but for Twilight her destination was simply the next lower level.

With each step Twilight wondered the same thing over and over. What was that thing that Jon had used on Trixie and why he felt it necessary to hide it from them? Oh how she wished she could have done some studies on it but she knew it was not to be since it was with Jon. She tried not to think about it so much since her sense of curiosity would have driven her mad, but just as she was starting to focus on something else the universe decided to indulge her a bit.

Suddenly Twilight found herself stopping in place, upon her next step she found that her back hoof and stepped on something, something cold and glass-like judging by the sound it made when she lifted her leg causing it to fall down a step.

Slowly she looked down only to realize that her silent prayers had been answered. Now frozen in place Twilight realized that she what she had stepped on was the mysterious syringe that Jon previously had in his possession. It would seem that it had fallen out of his pocket without him knowing. Without even thinking about it she quickly turned around and used her magic to levitate it up to face which was stuck in a permanent state of shock.

Looking behind her, Twilight made sure she was alone. No pony was using this staircase based on how her frantic breathing echoed up and down. Although this didn't belong to her and it was obvious she shouldn't be looking at it Twilight still found herself wanting to know more about what this was and perhaps even how Jon came to acquire it.

“No!” Twilight thought. “It wouldn't be right!”

Usually around this point she’d have someone to tempt her to go for it, a la childish reasoning from Spike or recklessness at the hands of Rainbow Dash. But even with no one to tell her otherwise she still found herself unable to resist.

Looking around once more to make sure she wouldn't be seen she opened the top half of the syringe to retrieve the vial that had at one point been placed in by someone obviously not Jon since he was not a doctor and would probably not know how to load one; her reasoning made her feel like a detective of sorts.

By all accounts both the syringe and per-loaded vial looked like ordinary medical tools with nothing to go by as to what it was, not even a little description tag, expiration date, or logo as to who made it. Using her magic she slowly turned it like it was an ear of corn she intended to eat so see if maybe there was any evidence to be found. She was about ready to give up and return this seemingly bland item to Jon when something caught her attention, that being a small pace of white paper attacked on the outside of the inner vial.

Twilight could only imagine what this was. She was nervous as evident by teeth chattering and the her magic becoming slightly unfocussed. With a deep breath she decided to pull herself together and get to the heart of her curiosity, she looked to the surface of the slender vial with squinted eyes. Based on the scratch marks in this area and the leftover sticky residue it was obvious that some kind of sticker was once there, most likely instructions or a description of the product.

Twilight deduced that in the same manner that he was playing amnesia Jon tore off the label to avoid having to disclose where he found this medicine, but in his haste he missed a small section of the attached parchment. Squinting her eyes even further Twilight read the small section of text that was still left over. Out of context it made little sense but it was all she had to go on.

“Huh,” Twilight thought. “I wonder what--”

“Twilight?” a voice said from behind.

“Wah!” Twilight yelped as she jumped forward and spun around. It was only after doing this did she realize that she was now in the presence of her human friend. “O-oh hello Jon! I thought you were with Celestia.”

“I was but then I realized I had... forgotten something,” Jon answered, taking a step forward and leaning in to giver her a look. “Might I ask what you have there?”

Even though she had nothing to fear Twilight still had reflexively used her magic to place the syringe behind her. Slowly she produced it for her to see.

"AHA! There it is!" Jon said as he quickly, and without asking swiped it from her possession and tucked it into his sports coat, this time in a more secure pocket. "Oh thank god! I thought I had lost this!"

“Yes I just uh... I just found it,” Twilight answered. “I was... delivering a sample of Trixie's blood to the tech ponies downstairs when I stumbled across it.”

“Is that right... I see,” Jon said with narrowed eyes at the now trembling Unicorn. “Tell me... you weren't thinking about keeping this for yourself and not telling me about it now would you.”

“N-no of course not!” Twilight blurted, her voice carrying far in the secluded section of the castle. “I-I just... I-I wasn't, even I could-- what I meant to say was I would never... I mean I only just found it and I thought--”

“Twilight... calm down,” Jon interrupted, as he leaned in to pat her shoulder. "I was joking."

"Y-yes! O-of course... it was... just a joke. Like a funny 'ha ha' kind of joke... HA HA!" She forced herself to say as she side stepped her friend to continue down her path. "Weeell anyway I'd love to say and chat but... I really... really need to um... get going so... bye bye! Congratulations again on um... everything!" Without breaking eye contact till the last possible second Twilight ran down the stairs. After it was clear that there was enough space between the two she stopped to take a quick breath, her mind full of questions.

In accordance with Jon’s wishes Twilight never did disclose what she had found out that day to anypony she knew, not her closest friends or even her mentor Celestia. But even so Twilight herself knew, and even though it was for only a small period of time Twilight would not soon forget what she read on that glass container of mysterious properties.

It was a small sliver of text but what Twilight could read was:

“...onal supply of Dr. Zenith...”

It wasn’t much; in terms of finding out anything useful it was almost nothing at all, but it did get Twilight thinking.

“Huh... ‘Zenith,’” she said out loud to get a feel for the pronunciation. “Hm… that’s a nice name.”

Here it is your moment of Zenith

Throughout history there had always been some debate over who knew Zenith the most and who he in turn considered to be his closest companion. The pool of candidates was a small one as he was never one to have lots of acquaintances, he always said he had colleagues not friends. Many thought it might have been Twilight since they were blood related and she knew him and indeed took care of him for all of his childhood and very early adulthood, but later in life it was a well established fact that he hated her.

Most assumed it was Dr. Whooves since they were very close both as companions and intellectual equals. They may have only known each other for a little under a decade but Zenith had gone on record as saying that Whooves was the only person he considered both a friend on an mental and personal level. Other colleagues might have earned their share of cold respectability out of him but Whooves was like family.

Though taking this into consideration a decent argument could be made on behalf of his changeling sidekick Ginger who literally knew him since the day he was born and spent her life looking after him through several personas that she would adopt at almost a weekly basis. It got to the point where, back when he worked at University, his co-workers were surprised when he didn’t have a new assistant.

As to be expected from her species, throughout Zenith’s life Ginger took the role of many different forms. When he was a child she helped look after him as a Castle guard slash babysitter, when he returned to spread his newly founded idea she left the Castle as a top ranking knight to be his assistant, later in his adulthood they were for a brief moment lovers, when he was exiled she moved to Ponyville and did errands for him as sort of live in maid, and now in his advanced age she was his handler like in a nursing home.

No one knew that she had been serving him for all these years through a combination of skillful acting as her shape shifting, thus fueling the idea that Zenith could never get close to anyone when in fact he’d been with the same pony for several decades.

This of course meant that she understood him on a level that others didn’t, mostly because she was the only one he’d allow to be close to him. But on some rare occasions Zenith would find himself opening up to her on some issues, again mostly by proxy. But throughout the years Ginger liked to flatter herself by believing that rather than out of convenience he would open up to her about certain matters out of a mutual bond the two had.

There was no way Zenith would ever admit to such a thing but deep down Ginger knew that despite his gruff and cranky attitude he had a soft spot for her and even cherished their lifelong friendship. She knew this because just as she made him promise to never reveal her identity as a Changeling he in turn also made her promise to never tell anyone something about himself, something that he only told her and nopony else, not even Whooves, and would forever go down in history as their little secret.

And it was this very secret that was going through her head when Whooves came to visit the two of them. She wanted to talk about it but refused to do so until after he left, which he did when Zenith gave him a sample of his Clausus cure.

Since she barely knew him Ginger opted to limit her salutations to a simple hoofshake before Whooves was escorted to the front door by Zenith, the two of them reminiscing as they weaved in and out of boxes filled with old documents that littered the house. It took but only a few minutes before Zenith returned to the tiny library where Ginger was already pouring him another helping of tea.

“Oh that Whooves, may he never change!” Zenith said with the biggest smile on his face that Ginger could ever remember seeing. She was a bit jealous but at the same time glad to see her friend looking so happy as he took his seat, ready to continue where they left off.  “Aaaaaah... now then, where was I before we were so wonderfully interrupted... ah right! So… I noticed you went ahead and started a new flower bed in my front yard. What kind of flowers are you planting this time Ginger?”

As if he was preparing himself for her riveting response Zenith leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of his tea. Rather than answer Ginger just glared at him like a wife staring at her paramour because he forgot their anniversary. Eventually she let out a long and annoyed sounding sigh while shaking her head.

“Really Zenny?” she asked while he gave her a questioning look. “A zoo?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked in a confused tone that, in his old age, Ginger was quite used to hearing.

“You’re still telling that old lie?” she asked.

“What, you’re referring to the story I told to Whooves when he asked about Clausus?” he guessed. “Okay okay so maybe I embellished a few details here and there. So maybe on that day the parasprite exhibit wasn’t open yet but I assure you that--”

“Oh drop it Zenny, we both know what really happened that day!” she claimed which only made him continue to play ignorant.

“Hmph!” he grunted as he looked to his side at an interesting stack of books. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh I know you do!” she continued. “And I know why you don’t want anypony else to know.”

Despite his friend’s interrogation Zenith decided to take another sip of his tea while looking everywhere but into her eyes, which was very much unlike him. Usually he would have retaliated but the fact that he was allowing himself to be subjected to this was uncharacteristic of him.

“Zenny... Zenny!” Ginger called out, but was still being ignored which made her a bit upset. “Zenith Sparkle you look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Being referred to by his full name, which contained the name of his mother, always got his attention, and not in a good way. Ignoring that a pony his age shouldn’t suddenly burst into spontaneous movement, Zenith turned his head to lock angry eyes with his friend who was one of the few he’d allow to get away with saying what she just said.

“Good... now that I have your attention I think it’s time you came clean with your true feelings,” she advised.

“Again... I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he sneered as he began to breathe angrily through his snout.

“Oh really,” Ginger said. “Well then, allow me to refresh your memory.”

Crossing his legs nervously, Zenith again turned his head to the side and began humming to himself like a madman in an attempt to distract himself. Unlike before Ginger was alright with his hollow attempt to ignore him, because this time she knew she had his undivided attention.

“It was a particularly dreary sunday night and you were working on some pamphlets and your new book,” she began. “Back then you weren’t as famous as you are now so you did most of your work at home. Residents of Canterlot still doubted you were the same pony who circulated those free texts back when you were in hiding while others didn’t trust you since you were a runaway royal. Your connections were short so I helped you set appointments and pass out your literature.”

“You... were a big help back then,” Zenith admitted. “Back then you were known as what again?”

“When I made contact with you for the first time since your return? I was a red, blue, and green Earthpony called ‘Polygon’” she answered. “I was originally disguised as a Unicorn but you told me to lose the horn if I wanted to work for you... but that’s besides the point! Don’t try to change the subject!”

Seeing through his plan, Zenith went right back to avoiding eye contact while grumbling to himself angrily.

“It was on that day that you were given an invitation to go to the Castle, something which you got fairly often since your return but always turned down since you never wanted to see your mother again. It had been a week after the attack on the Castle by Retchstrike and you wanted to finish your new article on the subject as quickly as possible,” Ginger continued. “But this invitation was unlike any other. Instead of an officially sealed envelop hoof delivered by a messenger you were approached at your front door by your sisters Horizon, Meridian, and Nadir as well as many royal guards escorting them; they insisted that you come with them.”

Despite his never wanting to remember this Zenith was all too familiar with the day in question as was Ginger herself.

“You refused at first but they eventually convinced you and instructed me to stay behind and mind the house. I did just that and even managed to print out fresh copies of your latest manuscript as a surprise for when you returned,” she continued. “But despite your saying so you didn’t return... least not right away like we both planned. When you arrived it was early the next morning, you came looking shell shocked and pale faced. When I asked what was wrong you said nothing and locked yourself in your lab.”

“I’m not hearing this,” Zenith said as he closed his eyes to try and block out the memories.

“I thought nothing of it at first but then what followed terrified me. You started to scream and holler like a pony being tortured. When I forced my way into your lab I saw you wildly destroying lab equipment after lab equipment and flipping over tables,” she explained, the scene still vivid in her mind after all these years. “I thought you had gone crazy so I tackled you to the ground till you agreed to calm down. Once that had happened your new found anger went away and was replaced by something I hadn’t seen you do since the day you were born... you were crying. And do you know why you were crying that day?”

Of course Zenith knew but he wasn’t going to even try to answer.

“You were crying because as you told me that day... your mother, Princess Twilight Sparkle, was going to die,” Ginger revealed. “According to you when you went to the Castle your mother was in a comatose state and she wasn’t waking up.”

“That’s... you’re wrong,” Zenith said. “This never happened, ask anypony!”

“Oh well of course nopony would think this is true... because the Castle covered this up from the public because they thought it would cause a panic. But they told you... in fact on that day they told you that while fighting Retchstrike your mother had sustained a devastating injury when she stopped that madpony from destroying the past,” Ginger continued. “He had actually opened a portal to the past but Twilight managed to absorb it before he could use it... but by doing so it had caused her to fall ill... from a little known disease called Clausus.”

Like before Zenith was avoiding his friend by turning away, but this time he did so to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. In his old age he had trouble remembering many things but this was not one of them.

“Of course they tried nearly everything to cure her but the Castle was out of ideas. Out of respect for family they summoned you that day to inform you of her condition before going public as well as their intentions on what to do with her,” she added. “Since there was no hope of curing her she would suffer for all eternity since as an Alicorn she could not die. So in a humane gesture they made plans of easing her pain by stripping her of her immortality so she could pass on.”

“They... they were going to take her away from...” Zenith said, feeling like he was falling but not actually going anywhere. “Just like father.”

“I know Zenny dear, I know. But you were smarter than them and you weren’t going to let that happen,” she went on to say. “Again you looked as if you had gone crazy only this time you had a purpose. On that day you worked tirelessly for hours on end, skipping important meetings, and shunning away potential clients who came to visit, all in the name of saving your mother.”

The very thought made Zenith want to vomit. To steady himself he tried to drink more of his tea, unaware that he was out. Leaning over to help, Ginger poured him a new cup before continuing.

“It took you seven hours but you did it... you used all your knowledge to come up with a cure. Of course you couldn't just go back to the Castle and give it to your mother ooooh no, not you. You then proceeded to run into the streets like a raving lunatic, proclaiming that you had done the impossible,” Ginge recounted. “Once you had enough passing ponies to take notice you brought out a sick pony that you had me wheel in beforehand. A local child who had a weaker case of Clausus... and it was there that you shocked the world by demonstrating that you had indeed found a cure.”

This was actually a detail that Zenith remembered quite clearly but for all the wrong reasons. He had some connections in the local hospital as well as the local media. He invited the two to witness his miracle cure which boosted his popularity and fame considerably. He was still struggling to get the word out of his ideas and theories but after it was clear how intelligent he was, in that he discovered this cure, support came rushing in like never before.

This was one of the major turning points in his career upon his return. Twilight’s near death was the best thing that could have happened to him from a career point of view.

“Of course since the Castle didn’t want word to get out that Twilight was so vulnerable they never revealed what happened and you were too eager to make up a story about how you invented the cure on a whim,” Ginger said. “But you also released the formula for this cure to the world saying that you wanted everypony to be cured... but in fact you did this so Twilight would also benefit.”

“You... you don’t know what you’re saying,” Zenith said as he slowly began to brush his hair back. “I Zenith… I… I discovered the cure one day when I went to the local zoo. I saw a paraspite exhibit and wondered why, even though they could eat anything, the creatures would only--”

“Oh will you just let it go already!” Ginger barked. “Face it! What you did was something truly beautiful and benevolent. Something from your heart rather than your mind!”

“But that is not how everypony else will see it now is it!?” he yelled back. “As far as myself, the world, the history books, those in the Castle, and the government of which you reside yourself under are concerned I created that cure for the public and with the power of science!”

“And yet... you and I both know how wrong that is. You know you like to talk about how everything you did was for the advancement of Earthponies, science, and our race as a whole and for most of your life this has been the case. You have done so much for our generation and endured so much pain in your life and yet you can’t accept that just once you did something purely for yourself,” Ginger tried to get him to understand. “It’s time you realized that you created something incredible... a cure to a disease that was thought to be incurable not out of scientific integrity, not by a yearning to advance modern medicine, not out of a desire to see Earthponies as equals, and not fueled by an intellectual need to change the world, but out of pure emotional instinct. I’m a Changeling, I know a lot about the power of love and that’s what helped get you where you are today... not scientific discovery but love... the love I know you have for your moth--”

“ENOUGH!” Zenith yelled as he slammed his cane against the table. “I will hear no more of this!”

A strong silence was all that was left as Zenith calmly leaned forward to pick up the broken half of his cane which layed next to his chair.

“Ginger, I invited you over to sample my new tea and talk about your new garden bed,” he said. “If you mention my mother one more time I’ll have to ask you to leave! SO... I’ll ask you again... What kind of flowers are you planting this time?”

Saddened by how he still refused to open up about his less than stable relationship with his mother, Ginger was still somewhat happy to see that at least he was more willing to, to some degree, talk about the issue. When she first met him he was even worse and would often talk about how he wished she was gone so he could continue his work without fear of being hindered.

Throughout his life she had always tried to get him to change his ways and accept that his mother wasn’t as evil as he always thought she was. When he was younger the mere mention of her name would warrant him throwing something at you, but nowadays he found himself more willing to talk about her. He even at one point almost thought about accepting an invitation to the Castle that he got every month. Of course he didn’t go.

This may not sound like much progress at all but that never stopped Ginger from trying. She had known him all his life and was determined to see to it that she’d stay with him till his very last. And until then she never once gave up on trying to make him as happy as possible, which she believed could be attained by making him realize his feelings for his family which included Twilight.

This felt like an impossible task even to her, but she vowed to never stop trying. She loved him that much.

“Oh Zenith.” She sighed with a weak smile on her face. “You’ll never change.”

“What was that?” Zenith said, only half paying attention as he tried to fix his cane.

“I said tulips...” Ginger answered as Zenith gave her a tired look. “... I’m planting tulips.”

Intro: The last minute phone call

As well as being the city that never sleeps New York is renowned as the entertainment capital of the world; these two titles being quite complementary. To residents of New York the time of day virtually meant nothing, with any given hour something new and exciting was happening. One needed to have the energy and stamina to enjoy all the wonders of The Big Apple, some of which were blatantly situational, only occurring during certain times of the day.

If there ever was one subset of people who truly embodied this urban mentality it was those who worked in the entertainment industry. From early morning photo shoots on the scenic shores of Coney Island to late night recordings of crime drama shows in Central park, there was always something going on for the sake of someone's artistic endeavors.

And even when there wasn’t anything official being performed for someone’s intellectual properties, you can be sure that the mind of an artist was one that was as restless as the city itself. Performers in the entertainment medium are well accustomed to waking up in the middle of the night in a panicked state of cold sweat and short breath, brought back to life by their minds playing tricks on them.

For someone like Jon Stewart, even at his advanced age, his profession made him very indicative of the New York lifestyle. His body was well accustomed to staying up late and getting up early for the sake of his profession, which later could come in handy for traversing the world of Equestria since their solar calendars weren’t the same.

He could recall countless times where he would wake up at three in the morning with an idea for a new topic to discuss on his show that he had to write down in the notepad he kept next to his bed. Or having to stay up late thinking of new ways to improve his show, which is coincidentally how he met Celestia in the first place.

After Rarity’s interview was all set and done, Jon found himself not in bed with his wife as he should have been but locked up in his study, sprawled across his desk. Usually he’d be in deep thought about anything that his mind sought fit for him to dwell on which to him felt like everything. State of the world, his show, his family, his friends, everything was worth stressing out over.

However all of these things were uncharacteristically absent from Jon’s mind in favor of one overshadowing dilemma that had been eating away at him for quite some time now. He tried not to think about it but it was literally the thing that was keeping him up at night.

Even with the attack on The Daily Show, at the hands of Queen Chrysalis, now being months old Jon still felt the effects of her trying to steal his show. Physically he was never better but mentally he was still scared. This was mostly due to his friend and family member Trixie being quite literally caught in the crossfire. Days went by and Jon still wondered if his Unicorn friend would ever return home to him. It was something he definitely didn’t like thinking about but couldn’t stop doing regardless.

His parental instincts wouldn't let him rest, not with the knowledge that Trixie was still hospital bound and potentially in danger. What was worse was the lack of knowledge as to how she was doing, he knew that calling Celestia for an update would be pointless as well, after his countless failed attempts the night before he learned that doing so now would result the same way.

Instead, after it was clear that his late night ponderings would get him nowhere, he decided to get up from his desk to try and retreat to his bedroom, perhaps there he would have a better time wrestling with his soon to come vivid dreams rather than the hell that was his own thoughts. He knew that even before he could go to sleep and face the nightmares that came with it he would need something to knock him out, otherwise he would just count ceiling tiles in deep thought, redundantly doing what he was trying to run away from.

Cliché as it was Jon was standing in the archway to his office, with one arm propping him up, and was now looking back over at his desk. If this were a movie a secondary camera would’ve zoomed out to show the second drawer to his desk, which contained a bottle of scotch.

Lately, with all that had transpired, he found it somewhat difficult to get a good night’s rest. A quick nip of dutch courage was enough to get him to pass out. Backtracking his way to the other side of his work station, Jon pulled out the bottle of alcohol with one hand and in the other a small glass with a wide base, to allow for ice, but short in height, usually used for whisky but Jon cared not for proper drinking etiquette at this point.

Quickly, though delicately, he poured himself a small helping while at the same time making sure to not spill any of its content on his authentically expensive rug. Hesitantly he lifted the drink to his mouth, as if some unseen force was simultaneously trying to get him to put it down. His drink was so close to his face that he could smell its strong aroma, which to him smelled just like it tasted, giving him a preview of what was to come. But before he could bring himself to throw his head back in consumption he stopped; the unseen force had won and had now pushed him back into his seat.

“I don’t need this.” Jon sighed as he extended his arm to the side to distance himself from the drink. His hand was now holding onto the drink by its upper rim, like a claw machine grabbing a stuffed animal, as his arm hung over the side of his chair. He no longer had the will to drink its content so instead he arched himself to the side so his head would balance on the flat of his other hand.

Back when Jon’s children were newborns he would rock them back and forth on his grandma's rocking chair whenever he wanted them to sleep, a family pastime that equally worked when he was their age. Similarly, Jon found himself doing the same as he arched himself back and forth on his adjustable chair, which made an annoying squeaking sound every time he did. All in all it was enough to get him to start nodding off.

With every swaying motion Jon found it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. He was pitching in and out of consciousness at such regular intervals that at any given moment he was unsure if what he was seeing was a dream or actuality. When he opened his eyes he saw his desk, his office, and the door the led to the hallways; he still wasn’t sure as to where he was. In fact, he was so out of touch with reality that he didn’t notice the familiar buzzing sound coming from atop his desk.

With a quick shake of his head Jon leaned forward and quickly brought the glass of alcohol closer to him, tightening his grip on it so it wouldn't fall. His vision adjusted as his eyes traced the sound to his phone which was being charged at the edge of his desk. It was on vibrate and based on how it had almost inched its way over the edge he had an incoming call for quite some time.

With his mind and body being so unresponsive he didn’t notice it going off at first, nor did he notice a letter had materialized on his desk.

In New York, the only people who call at this hour are drug dealers and mistresses, and sometimes the two were one in the same. Jon had neither so he felt confident with indulging his curiosity and throwing caution to the wind. Disregarding his better judgement, Jon quickly yanked the phone from its leash and without looking to see who it was slid his finger across its surface to answer.

“Who is this?” Jon asked in deadpan voice.

“Hello Jon,” a familiar voice said. Immediately Jon recognized the voice, a voice as smooth and pure as the glass of scotch he had now dropped on the floor.

“Ce... Celestia!?” a surprised Jon barked frantically.

“Yes, it’s me, Celestia,” she said and she paused for a moment to sigh. “Listen, I think you need to come to the castle.”

So many things rushed through Jon’s mind, like why she was calling him when it was usually the other way around, why now of all times, and why was she requesting his presence. So many questions, and yet Jon asked the most obvious one.

“W-why?” he asked, which resulted in another uncomfortable pause.

“... it’s about Trixie,” Celestia answered.

More than meets the eye

It was uncertain why, out of no where, the name “Dr. Whooves” would seem like an odd sounding name to Jon, especially since he had heard it a few times already. Maybe it was because he had time to let it set in, or because he was now thinking more clearly, or maybe the fact that it decided to register now was by complete coincidence. For whatever reason one thing was for sure; it being that the way Time Turner referred to himself as the doctor caused Jon to stop and reevaluate the situation.

“Wait, wait, wait a minute,” Jon protested. “Your name is Dr. Whooves?”

Like a computer rebooting itself, his brain began to adjust to this new development and process it accordingly, section by section. Everything he learned about this mysterious pony was now being cross-referenced with his expert knowledge of television; his prefered medium.

“Yes... I was under the impression that this too had already been established?” Whooves answered.

Much like how the evidence of his potentially not being a doctor led Jon to believe he was a con-man, there was now new evidence to be considered; evidence that was implying he was something so much more than anything he could have possibly imagined.

“So you’re telling me that this... all of this: You being a timekeeper, the outfit, the accent, the name Time Turner and now Dr. Whooves... all of this is just by chance here?” Jon asked.

For a split second the smile on Whooves’ face almost vanished as it arched at a crooked angle in response to him tilting his head. As to be expected, this seemingly random series of questions appeared to be unwarranted and without a point, leaving him understandably confused.

“I’m afraid... I don’t know what you’re getting at here,” Whooves admitted as he gave him an odd look like he was speculating whether or not he was losing his mind; something which given what he’d been through he was fully ready to consider. Not helping at all, Jon threw his arms in the air and arched his back like was begging Scotty to beam him up.

“AAAAAAAAARGH!” Jon moaned, slamming both his palms over his face in apparent frustration. “This world!”

Were anyone else in the same position as the Earthpony doctor they would have made the next logical step by asking if he was alright; Whooves instead saw this as an opportunity to try and sample some of Coatcheck’s excellent food. So, while Jon was busy experimenting with how long he could hold his position, the dapper young Earthpony leaned forward and helped himself to some of Jon’s garlic bread which he dipped into the eggplant spread.

Throwing himself back to a more dignified sitting position, Jon opened his eyes just in time to see Whooves toss the perfectly baked bread into his mouth. He was still in a state of disbelief, though it was hard to notice past his tired and sunken face. Placing his elbow on the table, Jon just silently observed Whooves who in turn continued to drink his tea. Again, were it anyone else this would have felt awkward, but to the brown Earthpony he didn’t mind.

“So... again just so I’m clear... your name is Dr. Whooves,” Jon finally said.

“Let me check,” Whooves rebutted as he stopped to make pretend he was thinking. “Yes, yes it is.”

Leaning to the side of the table, Jon began to examine his Cutie Mark as he had already forgotten what it was. Even with Whooves’ sports jacket on he could clearly see it was an hourglass, thus adding to his speculation.

In an act that was usually set aside for monkeys, the doctor decided to mimic Jon by leaning to the side to stare at him in the same manner. Their eyes locked with Jon’s being tired but observant and the doctor’s being whimsical out of slight amusement. So many things still left to be discussed, but Jon wanted to be absolutely sure of the basics first.

“So, just to be sure... your name is... Dr. Whooves!” Jon repeated with selected emphasis. Getting up, he leaned in close, his tie now resting atop his sandwich. “Doctor Who....ves.”

“Again, you are correct Jonathan Stu... art,” he answered.

With the way Jon fell back on his seat with a sigh, looking absolutely demoralized, one might assume he had lost a bet or was just told his favorite show had been cancelled. But no, he was just surprised, surprised by the amount of insanity he had to deal with whenever he visited this world.

With nothing else left to say the conversation again shifted to silence, this being the apex of awkwardness for anyone watching. With Jon in deep thought, and Whooves sipping away at his tea, neither dared to make the next move, least of all Whooves who was amused by Jon’s sudden bout of confusion, believing that there was a good chance he was going insane.

“Alright... Whooves, can I ask you something?” Jon said, breaking the silence.

“If it’s about my name the answer is still the same,” he answered. “You um... might want to write that down.”

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s...” Jon paused as he realized the absurdity of what he was about to ask. “Okay, fair warning, what I’m about to ask you is going to sound completely left-field.”

“Oooo, well color me interested,” Whooves said with giddy anticipation, as he was still under the whimsical impression that Jon believed him to be a fake. “Go on then Jonathan, ask of me whatever you’d like! I am an open book... the kind with the really nice hardback covers and attached bookmark.”

Whether or not he was actually excited about this was irrelevant. As much as he knew that what he was about to ask was damn near impossible he couldn't ignore all the telltale signs, doing so would go against his philosophy.

“Alright then... Dr. Whooves... this may be the alcohol talking but do you,” Jon said, pausing to see if his guest was paying attention while he took a long sip of his tea. “... do you have a blue tardis that’s actually a time machine?”

As if the question itself was a bomb going off, everyone in the restaurant now had their attention on the table Jon and Whooves were occupying. They couldn't hear what he had asked but the absurdity of it would have been enough to warrant their attention. The reason why all eyes were on them was because, upon being asked if he was a time traveler, Whooves had dropped his cup of tea on the ground where it shattered into pieces against a sharp rock.

For the first time since his arrival Whooves’ ever changing yet still present smile disappeared and gave way to a look of infinite surprise. His mouth dropped and struggled to form sentences, his eyes now wide like an owl having seen daylight for the first time, and his body was trembling like he was in great pain, which someone might’ve thought by how desperately he was trying to catch his breath.

Coatcheck, who had by now popped his head from the kitchen to investigate, noticed his good friend looking as helpless as he was terrified. He thought about exiting his house to see if he was alright but his plan was cut short by Whooves finally breaking free from his paralysis in the form of slowly raising his hoof to point at Jon.

“H-h-ho-h-ho-h-how do you know ab-about that!?” he demanded to know. His voice wavered in shock like he was being electrocuted and his hoof shook like he was freezing, giving him very little right to be demanding anything. His face changed now to fear as a startling realization came over him. “Y-y-you... you’re from.... who sent you!? I don’t-- but how... how is this possible!? I was the only one who... this can’t be real! This can’t... this-- HOW DID YOU FIND ME!?”

“Whoa! Okay, you need to calm down!” Jon begged. Whooves was now standing with a look of terror on his face, yelling and pointing his hoof at the human; making it impossible to garner any more attention than he already was. “Listen, I was just asking cause--”

“Are you with them!?” Whooves asked while slowly walking away and looking in all directions like he was surrounded, still trying to make sense of what was happening as another realization came to him. “Did Twilight send you!? I’m not going back! I’M NEVER GOING BACK AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”

The sound of whispering could be heard all throughout the restaurant; for once it wasn’t because of Jon. Whooves now stood a few feet away from Jon like he was contemplating running away, with a face that couldn't decide if it was surprised, scared, or angry. Standing up himself, Jon tried to see if he could calm him down but in practice it just made him more nervous.

“Stay back!” Whooves ordered in an attempted firm tone that was still laced with fear. “Get any closer and I’ll... I’ll...”

For some reason he began to alternate between looking over his shoulder at a nearby house and at his satchel which was still left by the table. Jon could only imagine what was going through his mind but it must have been something of great importance since he quickly and without warning dove at the table and grabbed his bag.

Without any more words he turned around and tried to run away as far from Jon as quickly as possible. Though this action proved to be impossible since Jon had preempted this attempted fleeing by grabbing on the other side of his shoulder bag.

“Wait!” Jon pleaded, refusing to let go. “J-just wait a second would ya.”

“Let go!” Whooves demanded. “I swear if you don’t let go of me I will--”

“Will ya just listen to me for a second!” Jon interrupted so loudly that Coatcheck reevaluated his plan to intervene. “I know what you’re feeling right now... you’re confused, scared, and unsure about what’s going on... trust me I’ve been through this before, I’ve felt the same way since I discovered this world.”

Hearing this seemed to have resonated within Whooves since he was no longer playing tug-of-war with his own bag but instead resigned himself to standing perfectly still, at least for the time being. Jon’s earnestness was enough to show the Earthpony that he was willing to take this nice and slow.

"You must believe me." Jon assured him with an authoritative yet comforting tone. "I'm not here to hurt you."

To demonstrate this and his willingness to cooperate himself, Jon released his grip from Whooves’ bag and took a step back. Now that the initial shock had evaporated and common sense now in control he realized that Jon was speaking the truth. He meant Whooves no harm and even if he did now that he had his bag back he was in no real danger. Despite not knowing him personally he could now tell that Jon was no enemy of his.

But the question still remained.

“How... how do you know... about me?” Whooves asked.

“Please,” Jon said as he motioned for him to sit back down. “Allow me to explain.”

Interview: Please welcome to the show Dr. Whooves (6/6)

During his interview with Whooves, Jon learned a lot about Equestria, both in the present and in the future. He learned things he should not have and discovered that time can change anyone. At one point during the interview Whooves told Jon to marvel at the interconnectivity of all things and as the interview was nearing its completion he did just that.

Even though this interview was about Whooves there was another name that came up time and time again, the name of a soon-to-be tragic character who was one of Jon’s best friends and at one point, Whooves’ greatest enemy.

“T-twilight?” Jon asked. “What did she do this time?”

“She ruined everything!” Whooves sneered. “She tried to take Derpy away from me!”

“You’re going to have to put this into context for me,” Jon advised. “What exactly did Twilight do?”

“I swear, I thought I’d never have to explain this again,” Whooves said aloud to himself as he brushed his hair back. “It’s like this... after a few months of living with and getting to know the new Ditzy... I mean Derpy, things were going great... but then Twilight sent an order to have Derpy institutionalized at an asylum located inside Canterlot Castle.”

“Are you serious!?” Jon asked.

“Yes... I tried to keep what happened to her a secret because I knew if any official from the Castle caught wind they’d send for her immediate admission,” Whooves said. “There’s a whole system in place to keep ponies from barging into houses abducting other ponies, but I just knew that if Twilight learned about this incident she’d take her away from me.”

“The more I hear-- I’m sorry but it’s really hard to... to, to, to imagine Twilight hating you this much!” Jon said. “To go as far as to detain your fiancee just because you two are rivals seems so... not-- so monstrously unlike her.”

“Okay... to be fair... she didn’t take Derpy just to get back at me as much as it seems that way,” Whooves admitted. “The reason she did so was for the protection of her subjects by utilizing the Canterlot Mental Health Act, or MHA.”

“Equestria has a mental health act?” Jon asked.

“In the future it does. It’s a legislature passed by YEP YOU GUESSED IT, Twilight Sparkle at the same time she also tried to erase all traces of time travel spells,” Whooves recounted. “And do you remember why she tried to do away with all those spells?”

“Uh, yeah because she uh... because of that one guy who tried to go back in time and destroy the Elements of Harmony,” Jon answered.

“Retchstrike is who you’re thinking of,” Whooves helped.

“Yeah that guy!” Jon continued. “He tried to change history and Twilight wanted to make sure he-- make sure no one could ever do it again.”

“And it’s because of him that Twilight also came up with the MHA. The main reason why Twilight, as well as so many others, were terrified of Retchstrike was because he wasn’t some ancient monster brought back by some evil magic or a deadly weapon created by terrorists from another country... he was just some pony,” Whooves revealed. “Just some run-of-the-mill Unicorn who had an exceptionally strong handle on magic, later grew up to abuse the dark arts, and was a bit touched in the head. See, everypony knew he was out of his mind but no one did anything about it on the basis that he was no danger since up until then he had never gotten into trouble.”

Like a jigsaw puzzle nearing its completion, Jon was starting to get a sense of the bigger picture here.

“And like with time traveling magic she didn’t want to risk another... mentally unstable pony doing what he did,” Jon added to the conversation; Whooves nodding in agreement. “So how... how exactly does one get sanctioned under the mental health act? Because from... f-f-from what I understand Derpy got admitted, and Retchstrike would have warranted being taken in... and those two couldn't be further apart. Retchstrike tried to throw the laws of Equestrian nature into chaos by destroying the very elements that bind your world and keep it in order... while Derpy... gets her head stuck in trees.”

“It is rather unfair, isn’t it? That’s exactly how I presented my case as to why Derpy should live with me rather than in a wing for insane ponies, but they wouldn't listen to me. Under the mental health act anypony who fails a psychological test is to be admitted,” Whooves explained. “This test is basically a series of questions to determine how self-aware you are and how psychologically intact your mind is.”

“And Derpy failed this test?” Jon assumed.

“She got the very first question wrong. ‘What is your name?’ is the first thing they ask you,” Whooves recounted. “Those in charge expected her to say ‘Ditzy Doo’ but she said ‘Derpy Hooves’ instead... from there it went downhill,” Whooves continued on. “She answered almost every question incorrectly... I tried to explain to them, and to Twilight directly, that despite what their tests said she wasn’t a danger to herself or anypony else.”

“I’m just going to play devil’s advocate here for a second,” Jon experimented, immediately getting Whooves’ attention. “But perhaps, and I’m not saying Derpy deserved this herself, but perhaps this Mental Health Act isn’t such a bad idea if it will prevent situations like--”

“That idiotic law was most certainly a bad idea, Jonathan!” Whooves interrupted, confirming Jon’s suspicions. “That terrible, unjust law was put in place by an arrogant leader who, once again, was making decisions on behalf of ponies on topics she knew nothing about! Twilight abducted my Derpy away from me and had the nerve to call her crazy! What did she know!? Did she have a masters degree in pony psychology!? NO! I HAVE FIVE OF THOSE!”

“Okay, okay I get it!” Jon backed down. “You didn’t like Twilight’s policy in this matter.”

“She just wouldn't listen! They claimed they just wanted what was best for her... as if they knew anything!” Whooves continued. “Derpy she... she did know her name, I know she did and even though they thought she was beyond saving I knew she was in there... somewhere, I could tell!”

“With all due respect, it seems like your diagnosis was purely based on emotions rather than facts,” Jon commented. “Maybe they didn’t listen to you because they thought you biased.”

“YOU’RE WRONG!” Whooves blurted. “She... I knew she was still there! She took my name... my name... no pony elses!”

“What do you mean she took your name?” Jon inquired.

“‘Whooves’... my last name... when she... when she changed her name it was mine she took as her own... in the past we discussed it and decided that when we got married she’d take my last name,” Whooves desperately tried to explain. “She... s-she even did that thing she did where she forgot about the silent ‘W’... a-a-and the name ‘Derpy’ is no coincidence... that was my pet name for her when we first started dating... You see! She does know her name! She belonged with me!”

“Did the Castle still refuse after you... I mean what did they say after you told them all this?” Jon asked.

“I didn’t... they never gave me the chance, they just wanted to lock her up as soon as possible. This is why I forged her medical documents when we arrived in this point in time. Ponyville doesn't have any legislation on one's mental health but I didn't want to take any chances." Whooves explained his decision fueled by emotions rather than any cerebral processes. “You know what the last straw was? At one point, while pleading for Derpy’s release, Twilight contested that she may be dangerous but we just don’t know it yet... she even went as far as to imply that there was a chance that Derpy was the one who murdered her own mother... that... was it.”

“I... wow... well you have Derpy now,” Jon observed. “So... how did-- what did you do about it?”

“Oh I’ll tell you what I did... I already lost Derpy once and I wasn’t going to let it happen again. So instead of standing around like a blasted lemon I decided to give Derpy what she always wanted,” Whooves began, looking as fired up as the day he ran away. “Derpy detested the world she lived in and thought it too complicated and unjust... she yearned for a life most simple... when we first met she would often say how she fantasized about running away to live in a small village or countryside untouched by the skurge of modernity... and when her mother died she retreated into her mind to escape the evils of the world. And it was on that day that I decided to give it to her.”

“So that was the day?” Jon asked. “The day you took her to the past?”

“I had Zenith help me break into the Castle, since he grew up there he knew all the tricks to get in and out, plus he was still technically a member of the royal family so no one could stop him from entering,” Whooves continued. “All I had to do was tell him how I planned on undermining his mother’s authority and reveal to the world about my time traveling device and he was all too eager to help me. And as I said before... after a particularly lengthy bout of chases here and alarms going off there I managed to escape a thousand years into the past... at the time a thousand seemed like a good number.”

“I’ve been wondering about that... it sounds like a large reason as to why you went back rather than forward in time was to get away from living under the monarchy of future Twilight,” Jon said. “But you just ended up in a point in time where she still existed, granted she wasn't in charge of anything yet.”

“That was certainly a problem at first... when future Twilight tried to stop me she actually almost succeeded. At one point she damaged my time machine and it looked as if it wasn’t going to work, but thanks to some quick calibrations I managed to throw myself into the past. Problem was, ironically enough, time was of the essence, so I just picked the first big number I could think of,” Whooves admitted. “When we arrived I would have gone further back but my Tardis was damaged so I spent close to a year repairing it... but in that time Derpy had fallen in love with the place and those who inhabited it and thus I decided to stay here… soon after we started a family and the rest is history.”

“Let’s say that Twilight didn’t know that you had a time machine or that Derpy hadn’t undergone mental trauma... and instead of making a split second decision you had all the time in the world to think things through without fear of either you or Derpy being taken by the Castle,” Jon had Whooves consider. “Would you still have done it? Would you still have taken her and yourself out of your own time and into another?”

Taking a crucial second to think this over, Whooves turned slightly to gaze upon the time machine disguised as a police box that was still present on screen.

“If it meant that we could have the life we have now... absolutely,” Whooves answered with absolute certainty. “I maybe would have chosen a different time period... not the future though, Twilight has this nasty little habit of not being able to die so I would have gone deep into the past… perhaps a couple more milleniums than just one… I hear Starswirl the Bearded was one heck of a party animal.”

“Help me out here because you... I just can’t seem to understand how you’re so... l-laid back about the idea of leaving your own time... and traveling through-- uh, back so many years,” Jon baited. “I get that... that you... uh, that you love your wife but to leave everything behind for her... what I’m saying is it sounds difficult but you... you sound so confident about your desicion.”

In truth, Whooves tried not to think about the implications of the actions he took only a few years prior. It took only a fraction of a second to come to the same conclusion that manifested in his mind on that fateful day.

“Jon... you will never know how much I had to give up for the sake of Derpy. I left everything behind, gave up the future that was laid before me just for her. My colleagues, my friends, my eleven brothers, mom, dad, and Zenith... I left them all behind,” Whooves listed. “My research and ideas were on the verge of unlocking so much for ponykind. For years I had been working on endless projects to advance us into a new age… an age where everything could be explained and nothing was unobtainable. Sounds boring I know, but I was working on projects ranging from the obliteration of all diseases to the construction of machines to send ponies into space... I was planning on being the first pony to walk the moon... of his own free will.”

“Can’t you still do all that?” Jon asked. “What’s stopping you... haven’t you gone back to the future before?”

“The great tragedy is that I can never go back to the future for the sole purpose of completing any of my works... doing so would draw too much attention and if Twilight even caught a hint of my return she’d pounce... and none of my colleagues can continue my research because there is no pony alive, not even Zenith, who can comprehend my notes and journals,” Whooves explained. “And while I’m in the past I can never use my future ideas or advanced intellect because doing so would alter the timeline... present day Equestria is pretty much stuck in the stone age and everyday I see ways life can be improved, but I must act as ponies did from this time... so I subject myself to a menial job as a timekeeper as to not draw suspicion.”

This, more than anything, made Jon understand his guest.

“Do you ever regret it?” Jon asked. “Do you ever just... do you ever look back and wish you didn’t leave all that behind? Your friends, family, all that you’ve accomplished now gone... don’t you ever regret your decision? Don’t you sometimes wish you hadn’t had to press that reset button?”

“Honestly... not even a little bit.” Whooves chuckled. “And I’ll tell you why... because I didn’t leave everything behind... as long as I can spend the rest of my life in peace with the one I love most, then I know I made the right decision. Everypony I knew and everything I ever did or accomplished is nothing compared to knowing that Derpy finally has what she always wanted, to see she’s finally... at peace.”

“And it’s all thanks to you; you made this all possible,” Jon praised as he faked applause, which in turn made the audience do the same but in a genuine fashion. “Because you didn’t want to lose a loved one, because you were willing to do whatever it took and risk everything for someone you cared for. Even though an entire Castle was against you and those who were supposed to watch over others were claiming to only look after everyone's best interest, you still did what needed to be done.”

Those in attendance believed Jon to be actually congratulating his guest, but Whooves was too smart and quickly saw through his forked tongue.

“Oh, cute Jon, cute,” Whooves chimed.

“Whooves... help me out here,” Jon said as he reached over to grab his foreleg. “You... more than anyone else, know what I’m going through... help me... help me like you helped Derpy.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Whooves reminded, taking back his hoof and leaving Jon half sprawled on the desk. “Your circumstances couldn't be any more different. I’m sorry but I can’t help you save Trixie.”

There was a rustling in the crowd as they geared up for another shouting match between the two. As it turned out they misjudged as Jon was still in the bartering phase.

“Whooves please! You have to help me! Without you Trixie will die!” Jon begged, his voice not angry though loud enough one might mistake it as such. “I know how you’re feeling! To know that you may never see a loved one again... that feeling that somewhere in that big Castle your friend lays waiting to go home with no way for you to do anything about it... except you found a way! Please Whooves, I’m sorry for trying to trick you and I’m sorry for trying to force your hand but if you don’t help me Trixie will--”

“Don’t try to pin this on me Jon!” Whooves warned. “I’m sympathetic for you, truely I am, but I already risked altering time once for selfish reasons and I won’t do it again!”

“Why!? Why can’t you see things from my point of view!?” Jon begged to know. “You are unbelievable! You know you claim to not like Twilight or those in the Castle and yet here you are playing God, deciding who lives or who dies! What do I have to do to make--”

“Don’t you EVER compare me to Twilight!” Whooves interjected. “She was out to get me from the moment we met! And you’re right our circumstances are similar BUT, Twilight and those who worked for her took my Derpy away from me with the intention of having her rot in a cell with lunatics the rest of her life! At least she TRIED to help you! WHAT DID SHE DO FOR ME!? NOTHING!”

“Wait... w-w-wait, what?” Jon asked as Whooves recoiled his hooves in a panic. “What did you say?”

“N-nothing.” Whooves turned his head to avoid eye contact. “I’ve said too much already.”

“No, you’re going to tell me right now,” Jon demanded. “What do you mean by she tried to help me?”

No matter where Whooves turned his head he was greeted by watchful eyes begging for him to continue. Whether they be Jon’s or those in attendance, those working the cameras or lighting, or the invisible eyes of those watching from their living rooms... the classic peer pressure that came with being on The Daily Show proved too great.

“Fine.” Whooves sighed. “Jon, I know how and when Trixie dies.”

Jon was ready for anything Whooves was to come up with... or so he thought.

“W-what?” Jon could only ask.

“While researching you for this interview I came across Trixie... I know when, where, and how she dies... and it’s not from her bout with Clausus,” Whooves revealed.

“R-really!?” Jon blurted as he felt a lifting feeling in his chest. “Does... does she get cured!? Does she live a long and healthy life after all!?”

“I’m sorry, Jonathan.” Whooves shook his head. The sunken face he displayed told Jon more than he wanted to know, and yet he needed to know, he had to.

“When?” Jon asked after a lengthy pause of silence between them. “When does she die?”

“Jon, don’t do this to yourself,” Whooves advised.

“No... I want to know,” Jon said. “When does she die?” Another eerie moment of silence fell between the two with no noticeable movement or signs of either of them letting up on their intense staring contest.

Whooves was the first to make a move. He did so by digging into his pocket with a free hoof to produce his trusty golden pocket watch. After a quick glance he placed it back inside his vest and faced Jon once more; his face unchanging, still a template of discomfort.

“About five hours ago,” he answered.

His answer might as well have been a bullet going through Jon’s heart. As if his legs could no longer function on their own, Jon fell back with even odds whether he’d land in his chair. As with his legs his arms followed in turn, and were now dangling over the side of his armchair, giving him the resemblance of a life-size puppet that had lost its master. The only part of him that still had life was his head which seemed to be permanently fixated on his guest, but soon drooped downwards like he could no longer control the muscles in his neck.

The audience was in shock by this revelation and attempted to stay as silent as possible to give Jon the time needed to process this new information. Little did they know that it wasn’t a matter of how long it would take for Jon to accept this but rather a willingness on his part... he refused to believe.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Whooves said. “I would have told you earlier but... but I--”

“How?” Jon finally asked, his energy almost depleted just from asking.

Rather than fighting him on this inquiry as well, Whooves allowed his host to further punish himself.

“Again it wasn’t from the Clausus... but instead it was on the operating table,” Whooves revealed, which was enough cause for Jon to look back up. Before he could ask, Whooves took control once more. “Celestia, Twilight, and numerous other ponies attempted the ‘Entropy spell’ to cure her... but as they predicted it didn’t work and before they could restore the body she passed on... she didn’t feel a thing.”

“But... but they... they... t-t-they said,” Jon struggled to argue. “T-t-they said they... they said--”

“Yes, I realize they informed you that using such a spell was out of the question because, like they said, it didn’t work,” Whooves explained. “History tells us that they tried anyways because they were persuaded by an individual who explained that what they were doing was basically putting her to death... I believe his exact words were, ‘You won’t do it because Trixie isn’t worth it to you.’”

Hearing this familiar statement caused yet another bullet to go through Jon’s heart, only this time he knew who fired the shot. All Jon ever wanted was for Trixie to be happy, all he ever wanted was for her to be safe... but it was not to be. As if this new information was coal being dumped into the furnace of a steam powered train, Jon felt a rising heat in his body as he slowly began to regain life.

“Trixie does undergo the ‘Entropy spell’... but only because you convinced them to do so,” Whooves revealed as Jon firmly planted his feet. “I’m not sure if they did it out of guilt or because they agreed with you but thanks to you they went and--

Without warning Jon lunged forward across the table, his arms just the right length to grab Whooves by his jacket and drag him towards him as he lifted him into the air. Despite his age he did this in such a swift motion, and with such ease, that Whooves didn’t even have time to react, one second he was busily describing how Jon killed his friend the next he was hoisted in the air.

“Jonathan!” Whooves gasped as the crowd did the same. “W-what in Equestria are you doing!?”

“Whooves please, you have to help me!” Jon pleaded. “I won’t let it end this way! I won’t be responsible for... for... PLEASE! For the love of God help me!”

“L-let go of me!” Whooves ordered as he tried to break free, but to no avail against the man three times his size. “I already told... you I can’t!”

“I refuse to accept that!” Jon warned as he tightened his grip.

“You’re... you’re hurting me,” Whooves gasped.

“I don’t care!” Jon shot back. “You’ve broken the rules before and you’ll do it again!”

“I... I can’t,” Whooves struggled to say.

“Yes you can! And yes you will!” Jon roared. “I won’t have Trixie’s blood on my hands! If you don’t help me right here right now then so God help me I’ll--”

“FINE!” Whooves yelled with all his might as Jon’s grip began to choke him.

Out of surprise, rather than cooperation, Jon relinquished his guest whereupon he fell to the table, gasping for breath and struggling to get up on all fours.

“I am sick... and tired... of you asking me to do this!” Whooves complained in between huffs of much needed breath. “So you know what... fine... I’ll do it... I’ll save your precious Trixie!”

“Y-you w-will!?” Jon stammered, finding it hard to speak was such a strong smile on his face.

“Yes... but it will cost you,” Whooves warned as he continued to straighten his clothing. “... deeply.”

“Literally... whatever you want, it’s yours!” Jon offered. “What do you want? Money, power, Colbert? I’ll give you anything you want!”

“No, nothing like that... I’ll give you what you want but in exchange you need to give up something... far more precious,” Whooves informed, the weight of the situation lost on Jon who was too focused on the fact that he was about to get what wanted from the start. “Here’s my proposition for you... I’ll go back in time myself and stop Trixie from ever getting injured and-- no, you know what... I’ll do you one better, I’ll go back in time and make it so Queen Chrysalis never tried to invade your show... that way you, your family, and Trixie are to never be in harms way.

“T-that’s... that’s great! This way not only is my world never put in danger but neither is Equestria! A-and if you do this than Trixie can stay in my world forever!” Jon theorized with giddy anticipation. “Oh thank you, thank you so much Whooves! This is great I--”

“Oh don’t thank me just yet... remember there’s a catch,” Whooves reminded. “And I’m afraid it interferes with your little ‘lives happily ever after’ scenario you got going on there.”

“... What do you mean?” Jon asked. “What do I have to do?”

“It’s simple really... I’ll go back in time and save Trixie... but in exchange I’ll also make it so you never get the chance to met her?” Whooves told a now perplexed Jon.

“What... wha-wha-what are you saying?” Jon asked.

“What I’m saying is if you want me to save Trixie then the best way to do so is to make sure she never gets the chance to know you,” Whooves explained, his words cutting Jon deep like sharpened knives. “So... here’s my deal... I’ll save Trixie... but in exchange I’ll alter the timeline so you never get the chance to travel to Equestria.”

Through this interview, as indeed was the case with most interviews, there was a percentage of viewers (mostly human) who wondered if what was occurring on-screen was actually happening or just a staged performance. Some believed that the talking animals on-screen weren’t actually time travelers or magic beings but were just pretending to be while others took it a level further and thought them to not even exist and were just really well done cinematics.

When Jon first did “Equestrian Interviews” he did so with his opening act being Spike the dragon, and at the time people thought it was just a cutesy skit to compete with other shows for ratings, but as time went on it was revealed that it was in fact real; though some still doubted its validity.

But even those very same nonbelievers and naysayers were as stunned as Jon was when they heard that he was given the option to wipe that all away like it was nothing. Everyone was on edge to hear his answer.

“W-wait... you’re saying...” Jon paused as he placed his hand over his forehead, his head spinning. “You’re saying that... in order to save Trixie I have to... t-to--”

“That's right, you have to give up ‘Equestrian Interviews’... and everything that came out of it,” Whooves reiterated as he turned his head to face the audience. “I know my way around a tech or two and I got to say those cameras are as basic as they get. I’m sure you know how your show gets transmitted to Equestria... I’ll just simply go back in time and tinker a bit with your equipment so that when you broadcast only human eyes will view it.”

“B-b-but if you do that then,” Jon tried to say but couldn't bring himself to do so.

“You get the idea... if you agree to this then you also agree to an existence where you never know the ponies of Equestria and alternately they’ll never know of you. You’ll live the rest of your life having never gone to Ponyville, a life where Celestia never teleported you on that fateful day to help you... a life where all the friends you’ve made and experiences you’ve had over there never happened... and of course... a life were Trixie never becomes a part of your family,” Whooves cautioned Jon. “If you’re wondering why it has to be like this it’s because it’s the only way to absolutely keep her safe. You never broadcast to Equestria so Celestia never helps you, which in turn means that you don’t have Twilight on your show, which means Trixie never seeks to be on your show out of jealousy, which means that she never gets stuck and has to stay in your world. In addition, this also means that Queen Chrysalis won’t know about you so she never tries to invade your show to steal the love of your audience which was the reason why you had to get Trixie to help you which is how she ended up getting hurt... do you see... the only way to be sure that she lives is to make sure she never meets you.”

Even though this was what Jon wanted all along he never thought the cost would be this great. He never considered that this day would end up like this, where the future of so many lives would depend on his next answer.

“There has to be some other way,” Jon tried to have him consider.

“There is none... I’ve already looked over all the scenarios in my head; too many variables,” Whooves countered. “The only way to be absolutely sure of her safety... is if you two never meet.”

The way he made his point, so cold and calculated, was enough to hurt Jon... though it didn’t hurt as much as the thought that he was right.

“So what’ll it be, Stewart?” Whooves asked. “What's more important... keeping Trixie alive... or keeping your memories of her alive.”

Jon found it difficult to think with the audience ignoring the rules of the studio by yelling at him with advice. Every single member of the audience was yelling at him to not go through with it. Some groups were chanting the phrase “don’t do it” while others who were in the back row ran down the aisle so he could hear them.

All of their pleading was pointless; Jon had long since made up his mind.

“I realize now that... the concept of changing the past is a harsh and dangerous one,” Jon began. “A reckless and selfish idea that should never be used lightly if at all and should only be considered by the most responsible of people.”

“Finally... you see things my way,” Whooves congratulated. “Maybe now we can--”

“Too bad I’m not one of those people,” Jon interrupted.

“Excuse me?” Whooves asked.

“I’ll do it,” Jon said

“What?” Whooves responded.

“I said I’ll do it,” Jon repeated. “I’ll take you up on your offer... make it happen.”

As if he was a coyote trying to operate a stick of Acme dynamite, Whooves felt his own plan backfiring on him, his face black from his own contraption turning on him... even he didn’t predict this.

“Are you serious?” Whooves asked, his inquiry drowned out by the sound of the crowded audience yelling obscenities or crying out for him to not do it.

“Dead serious... if giving all that up is what it’ll take for Trixie to be safe, then I’ll gladly do it,” Jon answered.

Whooves still couldn't believe what he was hearing, as evident by his shaking his head in utter disbelief.

“I don’t... you have no idea how... don’t you understand what this means!? Have the the slightest idea of the implications of what you’re saying!?” Whooves yelled. “For God’s sake Stewart, don’t you care!? Don’t you care about what effects this might have on those around you?” In response the host began to shake his head.

“Not really,” he answered.

“Don’t you realize that by doing this you’ll lose all the friends you made in Equestria as well as the experiences you shared with them!?” Whooves asked.

“I know,” Jon answered. “I still want to do it.”

“Don’t you realize that this could damage your show!? ‘Equestrian Interviews’ is your most popular segment!” Whooves reminded. “If you lose that there’s a chance you could lose your entire program!”

“I know,” Jon answered. “I still want to do it.” Whooves was starting to get mad.

“Don’t you realize that this could permanently alter the chronological stability of not only the human world but Equestria as well!?” Whooves asked. “This show is the connection between our two worlds! Without it you could forever change the timeline of billions of humans and ponies! For crying out loud you won’t even remember ever saving her in the first place!”

“I know,” Jon answered. “I still want to do it.”

“How can you still want to go through with this!? Don’t you understand!? Don’t you care!?” Whooves roared. “Don’t you care about yourself, about your well-being, about everything you’ve accomplished because of those interviews!? You’ll lose everything related to my world, your friends, your experiences, your memories, everything... EVERYTHING!”

A sense of understanding was nowhere in sight and was not going to be established at any point between the two. After his pressing of the issue at hand, Jon allowed his guest a moment to catch his breath before continuing.

“If you’re quite done, I’ll make the arrangements with Celestia to allow you to return home after all this is set and done,” Jon said while standing up. “I have one request though... before you change the past I’d like one last moment with Trixie to say goodbye.”

Shifting his weight, Jon began to round his table to a chorus of audience members begging him to reconsider his decision. But before he could leave to go backstage he was halted by Whooves speaking out in his direction.

“Are you insane?” Whooves wondered out loud. “If you think for a moment I was actually serious then I severely misjudged you.”

A familiar swelling was rising in the bowels of his stomach. Jon now realized that he had been had.

“But you said--” Jon began only to get cut off.

“I lied!” Whooves interrupted. “Of course I’m not going to alter the past like that! And you are a fool for even thinking I would!”

In a rare example of the crowd working against their host, the audience began to cheer at Whooves’ decision. This joyous celebration was not shared by Jon who immediately ran up to Whooves out of blind rage with his arms stretched out with horrible intentions. This was easily foreseeable, especially for Whooves who quickly jumped atop the Daily Show table just in time to see Jon almost crash into the swivel chair he had been occupying the entire time.

“We had a deal!” Jon roared as Whooves held his foreleg out at him like a circus ring leader trying to steady a show-lion.

“Calm down, Stewart!” Whooves demanded. “I was trying to make a point!”

“What point!?” Jon yelled as he looked as if he was about to climb the table himself, making Whooves walk backwards to widen the gap between them. “To show that you’re the only one who can be selfish!?”

“It was a test... and you failed!” Whooves said as he slowly lifted his other hoof into the air which still firmly held his cylindrical device. “I’m sorry for giving you false hope, I-- perhaps I went about this the wrong way, but the fact of the matter is I can’t change history the way you want me too.”

It was quite common for an actor to be able to change their emotions at will, but it was still an uneasy sight for Whooves to see Jon go from murderous anger to pathetic begging in a blink of an eye.

“Please Whooves... I can’t... I need this!... Please help me!” Jon clasped his hands together as he looked upwards at his guest like he was some kind of deity. “I can’t stand seeing her like this I can’t... she’s dead now fine but you can change that... please, I don’t care about the show, or those I’ve met in your world, or... o-o-or any of that!... I just want Trixie back, please give me back my Trixie!”

“How can you just throw that all away for one pony!?” Whooves shot back, yelling as loud as he could to match Jon’s intensity. “Why do you care so much about... Why can’t you just accept that she’s dead and that she’ll stay that way!”

“BECAUSE IT’S MY FAULT!” Jon yelled so loud that even if he didn’t have a mic attached to his person his voice would have carried to all corners of the building. As if the act of doing this was enough to drain him of all the energy in his body, Jon collapsed into the chair previously occupied by Whooves... he was visibly exhausted and surprised for saying what he just said, but he still had enough energy to say one last thing before burying his face into his hands. “It’s... it’s all my fault!”

There was no longer any reason for Whooves to think Jon was a threat. So while Jon began to silently weep to himself he backed away to the edge of the table and threw himself into the host’s chair behind the desk.

“You’re too hard on yourself ya know,” Whooves commented as he admired his own pocket device, looking at the reflection of himself on its shiny surface. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened.”

“But... it’s... it’s because of me that she’s dead.” Jon sniffed. “It’s like you said... she’s dead because we met. If it wasn’t for me she’d never try to get on my show... I was the one who let her stay with me, I was the one who begged her to help me fight Chrysalis, and it’s because she tried to save me that she ended up getting hurt... it’s all my fault.”

“And like I said, I sympathize with you... I honestly do... but there’s nothing I can do about it,” Whooves reiterated. “I’m sorry... but I can’t help.”

“No... I’m sorry,” Jon rebutted. “Because you’re still stuck here.”

“I beg your pardon?” Whooves said.

“There’s only one way back to your world... and that’s through me,” Jon said as he stood up and pointed his arm behind him. “I made a deal with Celestia that as long as she’s in my world... she’d follow my lead... so if you ever want to leave this place and see your wife again... you’ll help me.”

“There' that... or, you know... I can just time travel myself on out of here,” Whooves suggested as he waved his probing device in the air. “Quick reminder: This device can remotely control other objects... even my own Tardis.”

“Impossible... there’s something you overlooked,” Jon said.

“I highly doubt that but by all means... go on,” Whooves humored him.

“I’m sorry but... you don’t have your time machine... Celestia does,” Jon revealed. As expected this made the audience immediately start talking amongst themselves with surprised looks... the same could not be said for Whooves.

“Are you sure about that?” Whooves asked as he looked slightly to the left of Jon. “Because Celestia can’t get to me and last I checked my Tardis is... well, right there.”

“You’re wrong,” Jon corrected. “That’s not your Tardis... that’s a Tardis. You see I--”

“You told Celestia about my time machine before my arrival in this world and you instructed her to use her magic to switch it with a decoy before our interview. That way when I arrived on your show I would go on thinking my faithful time machine was next to me the entire time but in actuality it’s back in Equestria being looked over by officials at Canterlot Castle,” Whooves interrupted. “You begged her to switch mine with a replica because you wanted me to think I had the option of leaving whenever I wanted to but in reality was stuck here and couldn’t escape so you could whatever you want with me... am I right so far?”

“Y-you knew?” Jon asked, as he began to feel physically ill.

“I always knew... do you think I’m stupid enough to come on stage in front of billions and out myself without having a backup plan?” Whooves asked. “See, I knew you’d be a big ol’ tattle tale and tell her about me the moment we parted ways and I knew you’d try to strand me here which is why... I took extra precautions.”

“You mean... oh no,” Jon said as he turned to look at the looming blue Tardis. “Don’t tell me that... this fake Tardis... is actually the real one.”

“You’re quite close... but no, the one right there is in fact the fake one that Celestia used as a clever subterfuge,” Whooves admitted. “The real one I suspect is in Equestria right now being guarded at Canterlot Castle... too far away for me to activate even at long distance so in that regard you performed admirably.”

As well as being shocked by this turn of events Jon was confused. If what he was hearing was true Whooves predicted the plan that he and Celestia had cooked up but did nothing about it.

“I don’t... I don’t understand,” Jon said. “If you knew what we were up to... why did you let us get away with it?”

“Because the thing is Jonathan... I can still travel through time.” Whooves smirked. “The fact of the matter is... I could have left any time I wanted.”

“Y-you're bluffing... you're bluffing!” Jon stammered. “Tha-that’s impossible! Celestia took your time machine before the interview, it said so in the text she sent me!”

“Who said anything about using the time machine you took? All I’m saying is that even without it I can still time travel,” Whooves said. “So I waited... and waited till the time was right. And by the time you guys made the switch I was already right here being interviewed... ready to send myself into the past when I needed to.”

As was the case, Jon clasped his own head as if he was trying to prevent it from exploding. He was having a hard time keeping up with Whooves who had by now ran this particular scenario multiple times through his head.

“But that makes no sense!” Jon argued, still unable to comprehend. “We have your time machine!... Celestia told me she had it and was keeping it safe long before our interview! How can it be that we have your time machine, and yet you still claim you can time travel without it!?”

“To answer that allow me to share a quote with you that my mentor Zenith once said... ‘Although it may still serve some practical function, and at one point was the dominate form of ingenuity, magic is no match for the power of science,’” Whooves bragged as he slowly leaned in. “Jon... it’s simple! While I was here in your world... I just built new one.”

“You... built a new one?” Jon asked out of habit. “Right... right here... but... but ho--”

“How? You’re wondering how!?... Really!?” Whooves laughed as loudly as he could. “Oh come on! Look at who you’re talking to!”

Jon could do nothing but.

“I was able to build another quick time machine, quite easily I might add, because I’ve done so once before and the knowledge to do so is still in my noggin,” Whooves answered as he pressed his hoof to his temple. “While I was waiting for my turn to go on stage I spent my time making a new one to stave off boredom, I even had the parts to do it in my bag. It took me a couple of minutes, about as long as it takes to prepare of cup of tea, and while it’s not as advanced as my original one it’ll get the job done.”

“But...how?” Jon repeated, still unable to believe it.

“HOW!? For the same reason I knew that you two took my original one. For the same reason I knew Celestia was here the entire time, for the same reason I knew every way in which you’d trick me, for the same reason I was able to turn on the cameras and broadcast our little battle for everypony to see, for the exact same reason I knew about what would happen in your future and the future of your show, for the same reason I knew who your next interviewees would be, for the same reason I knew Celestia would release Discord as a test to help Twilight become a princess, for the same reason I knew that in the future she would give birth to a pony named Zenith who would lead all of ponykind into a bright future where ideas and science are the dominate power, and how I knew that the events of that moment in time would eventually lead to me going back in time!” Whooves listed with such rapid speed that it was hard to understand him. “For the same reason I know everything about anything before it happens with 99% percent accuracy by analytically running scenarios in my head faster than any machine, for the same reason that I am forever blessed with the knowledge of everything that was, is, or will be, from now till the end of time which I have already seen with my own eyes. I know all of this for the same reason and do you know what that reason is, Jonathan!?”

“N...n-no,” Jon whimpered as Whooves caught his breath. “W-why?”

Taking a moment to smile a most devilish smile, Whooves produced once again his trusty sonic probe which he dangled in front of his face.

“Because I’m the Doctor,” Whooves answered as he pressed down on a button.

“Wait!” Jon pleaded as a bright light began to engulf the stage. “What about my--”