*Warning: Lots of Dialogue Ahead*
*Extra A/N: the majority of the following dialogue is not spoken in Equish. Instead of writing out the Equish with Human translations in 'angle brackets,' it was just easier to put the translations in there. This would have taken a very, very long time to write otherwise. Sorry not-sorry.

**West Baltimare Public Library**
**001 Summer CC**
**Violet Vector**

"So... what is the password? And which one are you?" I whisper over my shoulder to the colt sitting on my back.

In our old language, the colt responds, "Password? Ah~ sh1t. Um..."

I say, "That's... that's close enough-"

"-No, no. I got this. Just gimme a minute. Oh! 'Li-ke uh glo-veh!'"

Oh my God, "S- seriously, I believe you-"

"No? How about this one," the colt clears his throat and does a rather good impression, "'Have you ever danced with the devil by the pale moon light?'" That is, if that actor were a very young child. He even did the eyebrows.

Sighing, I say, "Okay. You're one of the Others."

"Wait," he says, "I got more."

I sigh harder, but he continues, "'Don't pass gas; stop and enjoy it.' 'Know what Ah mean, Vern?'"

"Ow~ my head," I say as we get to a little nook in the Library. The colt is on my back, and I get low so he can hop over onto a seat so we can sit down and have a private conversation. I might need to take a long weekend after this.

"'Da Bears,'" he quotes.

I can't help but grunt, "Hr~k."

"Wassu~p."

Yup. That's a migraine. "Please stop," I beg.

He says, "Well, excu~se me, princess."

"Urgh~" Okay. If I encounter any more of the Others, I'm not asking about passwords.

"Hey," he says.

I ask, "W- what?"

"'Stay frosty out there.'" He does a pose that I think would be 'finger guns,' but he doesn't have fingers. He has hooves.

"..." In. Out. Breathe. Find your center, Vi.

"So~" the colt sounds like he might be done and is changing subjects. Ple~ase be done and are changing subjects. "Who are you?" Oh, thank Celestia!

In. Out. One or two more -wait. What? "Don't you know?"

With a slight scoffing, he says, "If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."

"Violet Vector," I say. I think it ought to be obvious, but The expression on his face that says, he thinks it is not. This dawns on me, and I can feel my face slowly drop to display my disappointment.

The colt just shrugs.

Maybe if I try again? "V, Violet. V, Vector?"

The little pony dons a look of realization and gasps, but it disappears as soon as it came. He is still confused.

I can't help but feel a little sad at that. "I thought it was somewhat revealing in a poetic way... The V's? Five? It's me, Kevin."

He just blinks and tilts his head slightly.

What? Does he not-? "...How much do you remember?" I ask.

He shrugs, "Not much. I remember bits of the Show and most of the Rules. I know there were Others from Before who came or are supposed to arrive over Here at some point."

"D@mn," I sigh.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes.

I shake my head, "That's not your fault. We... expected this could be a possible occurrence."

The little foal sits up on his haunches and holds his hooves out for a hug. I can't hold back quick laugh to himself and go over to give him one. In pony history, I don't think anypony has refused another pony a hug who asked for one. It's actually really hard to resist. Ponies are just cute, and foals have that fluffy baby-fur that they eventually shed. Refusing to experience that is like refusing to experience life.

During the hug, he whispers to me, "It's nice to see and... meet you again, Kevin."

Who couldn't smile from this? "You, too," I say.

We release the hug, and I go back to my seat. He's sitting on the same wall-bench as I am, and we have a little reading table before us in this nook.

He starts, "So... who am I?" But something catches his attention, "Woah."

A little bug found its way onto the table. It's about the size of what I would associate with a ladybug except it's not a ladybug. It's a pest: little yellow, mouse-looking pest with a lightning bolt-shaped tail-stinger and two red dots on its cheeks.

It makes little sounds, and the colt is enraptured by it, "Pika pika!"

"Woah~ Kevin, are you seeing thi-" he starts to ask, but I put a stop to that.

"Pika pi-" The crunch of the little pestilence is oddly satisfying, but his eyes bulge and jaw drops.

"Now, wait-" I start to explain.

But he interrupts, "-What the heck, dude!"

"Do you even know what those things are?" I ask.

"Yeah, they're-" he starts.

"-No. I didn't ask if you think you know what those are. I asked if you know."

"But-"

"Look," I say as I wipe the remnants of the little menace off on the edge of the seat. I'll clean that up later, "those things bite. They spread disease and make ponies itch. They're like ticks or mosquitoes."

"But-" his lower lip starts to tremble a bit.

"I'm serious. Do not collect them all. Those things are bad. You'll have to get special shampoo and all that."

"It looked like-"

I interrupt again, "I know what they look like. They're not the same as those friendly pocket creatures from that cartoon. They are serious pests. I will have to report the sighting later to the city and have a crew come out to set up traps. They actually make pretty good chicken feed, believe it or not. But the threat of plague those things pose is real."

He takes a moment to consider what I said, "Plague?" He asks.

Somberly, I nod, "Yeah. Plagues exist in this world."

"That sucks," he concludes.

"Yes... yes, it does," I respond and think it might be a good time to change the subject back. "You were wondering about which one of the Others you are?"

He nods.

"Alright," I start," Well, I don't expect us to have a whole lot of time," and I look over to see the mare he was with still talking with Stack by the desk. What is with that librarian today? "So, I'm going to do this as efficiently as I can. Now, I know for a fact who Three and Four were from a few bits of Three's writing. They lived around the time of the ending of the Heroines' Guild of Equestria. In her writings, she also alluded to possibly knowing who One and Two were; One lived around the time of the founding of Equestria, and Two lived long, long before that. Then there's me, Five. Six, Seven, and The Ocho are still 'pending.' There are a few problems -one big one."

He takes a moment to consider these things before asking, "What problems?"

I sigh and consider the next steps, "Just... do you mind if I run a magical scan on you?"

He shrugs, "Uh, yeah. Whatever, dude. That's fine. Do those hurt?"

"No," I breathe a little laugh, "it won't hurt. It's purpose is to get an impression of your magical flows and frequencies." Being a magic-user is awesome. I flex my magical muscles and regulate the flow and pressure to my horn for this spell. In practice, it's not a difficult one to cast, but it does require a lot of foundational knowledge. Most of that is for where to focus the spell and how to understand it. Looking at the wrong layers of a pony's essence would throw off the analysis. "..." What the h3ll? His colors, his behaviours, even his magical signature match what Three wrote about Four, but those anomalies... There's so much more than there should be on a pegasus.

"That kind of tickled but only barely," he said after my horn stopped. Then he asked me, "Well?"

What? "Well~," I was lost in thought for a moment there, "I think I confirmed it, but now... I have absolutely no clue how... or why."

He asks, "What?"

"You match Three's description of him entirely -well- except for one thing."

Curious, he want to know, "Who? What thing? What do you mean, 'Three's description?'"

"Green fur, green eyes, black mane, kiger coloration near your hooves, pegasus... you even still have that stupid pompadour hairstyle from when we were Before we got Here."

"Hey. The Pompadour is cool..." Indignantly he defends his stupid hairstyle, "but what I need is a black leather jacket, a white undershirt, and a wallet with a chain on it... and a switch-blade comb. Oh~ yeah~ then I'd be poppin'!"

"No!" Before I knew it I summoned a rolled up newspaper and smacked him with it. *pap*

"Ow~ hey! You jack@ss."

I know it's generally not an accepted practice given that hooves are pretty tough, but this is an emergency: I need to nip this in the bud, "No. Bad foal." Maybe another smack with the paper? *pap* "Pompadour sucks. It's always sucked. You are not now nor have you ever been a 50's style greaser." *pap*

He folds his forehooves and huffs, "...So?" See? He's fine.

"Yeah."

"So?"

"Yeah." For just a brief moment, I can see myself from outside my body, and all I can think is, 'Why am I raising my voice right now?'

"So?

"Y-!" No, Kevin! Don't drop down to his level. That's exactly what he's trying to do. That's how he always beat you at chess despite you having an official rating in the game. Gets in your head, this guy. "Mm~ you are not going to distract me right now. This is important."

"I wasn't distracting you. You were distracting me."

"Yes, you were."

"No. I wasn't."

"Yes, you- hm-hm-hm~!" Oh my buck! "That confirms it more than anything. You haven't changed one bloody bit."

The colt clicks his tongue, "Tch. Shows what you know. I'm the best changer there ever was! Just look at me," and he makes several poses. "And I call this one, 'Blue Steel.'"

I hope he sees the look on my face, because I'm deadpanning as hard as I can right now. "I am looking at you, and that's the problem... And those are all the same look! Gosh." I can't help but laugh to myself in frustration. Ow~ my head.

The little foal smiles at me, his long-lost friend. "Good to see you're still not a stick in the mud."

Sighing, I look over to see the mare now at the table she pointed to earlier and Stack bringing a few books over to her. Time to just ask it, I guess, "What are you a foal for, Four?"

"'A foal for, Four?" He repeats.

I blink. "Yeah. You're a foal-" I start to say.

"Yup," he says.

"Do you remember?"

"Remember what?" He asks.

"You're a foal."

"We've been over this," he says.

"What are you a foal for?" I ask.

"For what?"

"What?" I ask.

"For what?" He repeats his question.

"What are you a foal for?"

He says, "That's what I'm asking you."

"What?" I ask. "No, I'm asking what you're a foal for-"

"Foal fur? Well," he starts, "we're covered in it. Although, I don't see why my fur would be all that different from anypony else's."

"What?"

He continues, "I do like it, though. It's soft. But that's just on the surface. That's not who I am."

I- I don'e even. "Why did this happen?"

He answers, "Um~ it just kind of grows naturally -like- all over."

"You're a foal," I state.

"Yup."

I'll try to ask in a different way. "How did this happen?"

"Ah," he replies, "you see, when a mommy foal and a daddy foal-"

"That's not even close to how that works."

"How would you know?" He asks, "You're the one asking me."

Rubbing my throbbing temple, I sigh, "What are you a foal for, Four?"

He says, "Foarl fer fur furl for."

"What?"

"Look," he says, "I don't really have any idea what you're talking about."

"Alright," I might need to stop by the hospital later and get checked for an aneurism, "what do you know about this whole situation with you being here and a foal... and me?"

He says, "Ah, well, I'm a foal and am here. Also: you."

"I know that. Tell me something I don't know. Please."

"Um~," he thinks for a moment, "what don't you know?"

I answer, "I don't know."

"I can't tell you, then." He says.

"... Why?" I ask.

He says, "I can't tell you what you don't know, because you don't know what it is. So how am I supposed to?"

This is why I don't have any foals. "What can you tell me?"

"Look," he starts, "I can only tell you what I don't know."

"What don't you know, then?"

He states, "I don't know."

Sweet and sour Celestia! "This isn't helping at all," I say into my hooves.

"You know," he says, "I didn't know that."

Groaning, "You really haven't changed one bloody bit."

"I don't have any," he says.

"What?" I ask.

"Bits," he says.

"Bits of what?"

He replies, "Bits of nothing."

"What?"

"I don't have any," he says. "That's what I'm telling you."

"Four, you're really trying my patience here."

He asks, "Should I try harder?"

"You didn't used to be like this," I motion to his whole self.

"But you just said I was."

"A foal," I state. "You didn't used to be a foal."

"I thought you said I was Four. What number was I, then?"

"What?" I ask. My head is starting to spin again.

"You said I didn't used to be Four."

"No," my voice is starting to weaken, "not a Four. A foal."

"... I don't hear a difference."

D@mn this pony tongue of mine. I say to myself, "I don't know. Is there someone else I can talk to about this?"

"I don't know," he says.

"Don't I know it."

"I don't, but you do," he states. "And now I've told you something I don't know and something you don't know."

I'll give it one more try just to say I did, "The odds of you having the exact same coloration of Four and still being a different one of the eight Others is beyond astronomical."

He says, "But you said Four lived back when Three-"

"I know what I said, but you can't beat the House twice."

He huffs, "Maybe it's just a coincidence?"

I can't help it. I lose some patience and forcefully whisper at the colt, "Four, you know -or should know- as well as I do that the existence of a real coincidence is so~ astronomical that it makes our transmigration to Equus look like an everyday occurrence."

***Extra A/N and Cutaway***

Miracle: a miracle may be defined as an event for which there is no
cause-and-effect precedent.

"Yesterday, my car keys became -without any residual metals or plastics- a
very healthy codfish. Having no prior training, it can be said that her
singing voice is the true miracle. Tragically, she didn't realize that
singing without any water nearby would end her career expeditiously and was
served with lemon but no butter. To this day, no one knows where that
mysterious lemon came from; it was not in the fridge, but then there it was
-a miracle. It should be noted that the presence of butter in the fridge
prior to the appearance of that lemon and its disappearance upon the entry
of said fruit are entirely unrelated."

Coincidence: a coincidence may be defined as two separate events -for
which each may or may not have their own cause-and-effect precedent- which
interact with each other and for which this interaction does not have a
requisite cause-and-effect precedent.

"Two line rays which originate at different places and for different reasons
travel perfectly parallel in the same direction forever. Coincidentally,
they do cross at one singular point somewhere along the span of infinity.
One of the line rays refused questions, but the other responded saying, 'I
won't say I was compelled or convinced to do it; but if I were required to
give a reason, I'd say that in that one moment I just wanted to see what it
was like... Are you hungry? I have some fish, but I've lost my appetite. It
has some lemon but no butter, you see.' What a coincidence."

***End of Extra A/N and Cutaway***

Looking off in the distance past the shelves of books, he asks, "So, I'm Four?" Sounds like he's starting to accept it. The evidence is pretty clear.

"I'm pretty sure it's conclusive at this point," unless somepony can replicate all your mannerisms better than the most adept Changeling infiltrator ever, "I just don't know how or why." This is an Honest to Harmony mystery.

Swallowing, he shifts with apprehension and inquires, "... Can you tell me anything about myself?"

He doesn't remember himself. He still acts the same, but he doesn't know who he was or the life he lived. In a lot of ways, that's a divine blessing, Four, "I can tell you a little. Even my memories from Before are a little muddled."

"Anything," he doesn't plead, but I think he would if it would persuade me. But I'm plenty persuaded. I just don't want to tell him too much. He definitely seems genuinely happier now despite an undertone of fear. Back Before he could feign happiness, but we could all tell it wasn't quite right. "Please."

"Uh~ well... your home country was engrossed in some conflict. As a result, you were conscripted. but you were too young to actually fight; so, you ran supplies and helped with the medical stuff. If you ever told me the details of that, those didn't come over with me."

"... That's~"

"It sucks," I say.

He agrees, "Yeah."

I continue with "You eventually escaped that and moved to my country and took up gardening. We all met because of -well-" I motion around to the world around us, "-you know: ponies."

Two, Three, and I were the ones who worked on how to get us all here. Four, here, was the one who thought of the idea. He was more why.

"... And... we're friends. Right?"

It's instinctual: whenever a pony sees a sad foal, we can feel that sadness, too. That hurts a bit in my chest, but I smile anyway, "Yeah, Four, we're friends." Time for another hug, I think.

**Cup**
"Ah! Here it is. Psithur or Psithurism: a susurration of foliage, the sound of rusting branches or leaves. Alright. So that was the old name Harmony told me about."

**Violet Vector, Kevin**

After the hug, Four nods a little bashfully and looks down. I try to change the subject a bit, "According to Three's writings, Four, you, used to be called, 'Psithur.'"

He tilts his head and asks, "What does that word even mean?"

I had to look that up when I first saw it. "Something to do with trees and wind," I shrug, "Doesn't really roll off the tongue, though."

Nodding, he says, "They're calling me <<'Non-y>> now... Do you know what it means?"

"Uh~ is that the whole name or your nickname? I mean, I think it kinda fits, but..."

"What?" He asks.

I answer, "<<'Non-y>> means Silly."

"... Silly? Like 'funny'?"

With a chuckle, I say, "Yeah, kinda."

Silly thinks about it for a moment before sighing and then laughing, "Well, that's better than thinking I'm some 'Anonymous' clone."

**Cup**
"This one was a lot easier to find... 'Relating to the prosperity of: pastures, trees, and herds.' Well, that should find a right good home back on the farm! Alright."

**Violet Vector, Kevin**

"So," I think my time should be running up soon, but I have to ask, "What is the deal with you and your new... guardian?"

He shrugs, "I don't know what to tell you about that, dude. I didn't bring her to... what city are we in?"

"Baltimare."

"Baltimare," he mulls that a bit. "That's- what? Well, I didn't bring her to Baltimare. I woke up on the beach and then ran around. We kind of found each other."

"That's- what?"

"I know. Right? That's what I just said."

No. I am not going to let him drag me into another one of those again. "This doesn't make any sense. She should not be in Baltimare."

"Well, she's not," he says, "and I don't know why. I don't know enough of the language yet."

More to myself than to him, I say, "Something jacked the timeline already. Something before you arrived, I think."

"Possibly. Or the show was never perfectly reflective of the real place... who is she, anyway?"

"What? Are you serious?" Please tell me he's making another joke.

"Psh!" He waves off my question, "I'm always serious. You know me. I'm the best at being serious-"

"-No- I- that- but- no. Just... no. Look, it is absolutely critical that you get her back to her home with. Her. Stallion. As soon as possible." I can't help but mumble, "And try to help him knock her up a few times."

"I'll do as much as a foal can, I guess."

I sigh, "That's as much as anyone could ask."

"... What do I do after that?" He asks.

"What do you mean?"

He states, "You know what I mean."

That's a really hard question to answer. I don't think I'm qualified to touch it with a ten-foot pole. Besides, I'm not the one living his life. As long as he maintains the timeline as well as he can, then there really isn't anything I should do to influence him one way or another. "I don't have the answer for that, Four." I look over to see Stormy Flare with a little foal-version of Spitfire on her back approaching Silly's 'mom.' "Is that-? Spitfire?"

"Huh?" He looks over to where friends are gathering by his mom, "Oh, yeah. We're friends."

"What?"

"She's a friend of mine," he answers. "Doesn't talk much, but she is really nice... real licky, too."

"Spitfire."

"Yup." He says.

"Licky?" I'm drinking tonight. My brain can't handle this.

"Oh, yeah."

"The Spitfire." I state.

"Uh-huh."

I have to clarify this one more time, "Future Captain of the Wonderbolts, Spitfire."

"I think you've got it, by Jove. Give the guy a crumpet."

I don't know when, but I just realized my hooves are cradling my head which is laying on the table. "I think I developed a tumor in the last twenty minutes." T- timeline~

"Well, that's not good," he says. "How's the medical situation around here? Can they treat that?"

I groan, "Ng~" I am so dizzy right now. Stormy's looking around, spots me and the colt. Probably a good time to start wrapping up. "... Here, I have some books I put together in case you or any of the Others came across a Library. They're pretty basic primers on reading, writing, Equestrian culture, magic, history, biology. I also have some vocabulary, translation stuff, and copies of Three's writings cyphered within. The Key is pieced throughout the appendices. You'll have to put it together. You should be able to do it easy enough." Stormy points to us. Cup looks over and waves. I wave back. "Now, back up on my back, Four, and I'll bring you back to your... family."

**Cup**

"Yeah, I think 'Silly' is better," Flo says as we get to the library's front desk where Short Stack is awaiting us.

I put the books she helped me find in the return for her, and she asks, "Did you find what you needed?"

"Ah surely did. Learned what mah colt's name means," I answer, and that stallion arrives with Silly atop his back. The little guy bounces from the gentlecolt to the desk and then onto my back where he proceeds to nuzzle my mane. "Ah missed you, too, Silly."

Curious, Stack asks, "You didn't know what 'Silly' meant?"

With a little laugh, "No, Ah know what 'silly' means, but his full name is 'Silvanus.' And Ah didn't know what that one meant. Ah do now thank to your help."

She pets her braid and looks bashful, "I- it was my pleasure." Maybe they don't praise her enough here?

"I found a good book for you, Cup," Flo says, the stallions ears flick, and little Spitfire joins Silly on my back from Flo's.

So, You Have a Pegasus Foal, by Hot Air.

"Ah expect to be goin' home soon, Flo. Ah don't think it would be good to check out any books and then move back."

Stack was watching Spitfire and Silly play, but when she heard me mention my book returning issues, she perked up, "Uh, the Equestrian library system would still allow you to return a book either by mailing it back or by returning it to your local library if you have one. It's the Rural Readers Program, and there's also the Inter-library Lending Program which lets you request books sent to your local library from a library somewhere in Equestria. If you mail it, it is asked that you wrap the book for its protection. And I would only have to update your membership for that."

"Really? Oh, Stack, that would be amazing! Ah was never expecting a pegasus foal; and if Flo here recommends it, then it's likely a good one."

She passes me a form and says quietly, "I'm happy to help you, Cup," and a little louder explains the form, "We will need your address so that we can notify your local library if there is one."

I nod, "There is one, though it's nowhere near as big as this one. Ponies take turns running it. Ah don't think anypony regularly mares it, though."

"R- really?" She asks.

I confirm, "Mmhm!" And hoof her back the filled out form. "There ya go. And if you ever come by my way, Ah'll make sure to treat you like family."

She nods and breathes, "Definitely."

Flo says to me, "I'm feeling a lot better after that nap, but my teats are rather sensitive and tingly."

"Ah can agree, but Ah wonder why. Wasn't like this earlier." Stack is staring at our conversation and drooling a little bit. I grab a tissue and offers it to her, "Here you go, Sugarcube." The librarian blushes furiously as she dries her chin.

The stallion clears his throat and steps forward, "Miss, thank you for letting me watch your foal for a little bit," he says and sets a few thin books on the counter, "these are a few books I think your colt could benefit from. They're from my collection, so you don't need to worry about returning them.

"Thank you, sir," I accept the books. They look to cover a variety of subjects but aren't massive tomes. He might like them. I add, "But Ah do have a stallion already." Some stallions just need to be told up front so they don't get any ideas.

Violet Vector's eyes boggle and his jaw drops. "I- I wasn't giving because-"

I laugh and wave it off, "It's fine. Makes a mare feel good, though."

He taps his hooves nervously and apologizes.

"Well," I say to Flo, "you good to go?"

She confirms, "Eeyup."

**Violet Vector, Kevin**
On their way out, the three mares share some nuzzles with each other and the foals, and then Silly makes some silly faces at me with Spitfire's arms around him as they go through the front doors.

Quietly, I laugh at my old friend in a foal's body. As unexpected as it is that he is even here, it was really good to see him well.

And I can smell it. Who am I kidding? I could smell this across the whole Library. Sniffing the air, I can't help but say to Stack who is now back at the front desk, "You know, I've never seen you so interested in anything other than organizing the Library before. You're really taken with that mare. 'Love at first sight.' Never thought I'd see it in action. The air is thick with it. You know? Have you ever pined before? Or courted?" She's never talked about this part of her life with me before. She doesn't talk about her life much at all, actually.

Embarrassed, she asks, "C- can you watch the desk for a bit? I've got to... take care of something."

I wasn't intending to embarrass her, "Heh, sure. Make sure you lock the door. You don't want to be interrupted," it is a legitimate concern, but I guess I can't help my tone sometimes. Being bad at talking to girls didn't change between Before and now.

She starts to say over her shoulder, "I know how to -ugh! Wow that's-" Her legs tremble as she grunts during her retreat, "I know how to take care of it, Vi. Not like you're looking to help, anyway. And mares believe in romance, too, you know."

What? I mean, that's fair, but you don't have to be passive-aggressive about it. Besides, mares are supposed to make the first move. I can't be blamed if you never made a move.

As she gets out of whispering range, she says, "And don't think I didn't see you shooting your shot, either."

I really wasn't. Can't help but click my tongue as she walks away. Don't you know, Stack? 'I'm a strong, independent stallion; I don't need no mare?'

"Hh~" I sigh. That's not true. I just have a hard time trusting.

Before Short Stack gets to the employee's privacy door, she can't hold in a moan, "Ng~!" and several of the Library's readers eyes, ears, and noses move towards her direction. Many blush or hide behind their books. 'Knows how to take care of it,' she says. Mares ought to know when they're like that they need to widen their hind legs a bit when they walk. Otherwise, their cheeks will rub it... Still, looking out one of the windows near the front desk at Silly with his new family and friends, "I can't believe she's his mother... adopted mother. If I wasn't so confused, I'd be very jealous.

What is going on with the world? What really happened up there on the Moon? With the Heroines' Guild? Or are these changes from farther back? With One or Two? Will the ponies who need to get borned still get born?

In. Out. In. Out. I'm going to have to do that a lot in the immediate future.

My head... I might need to use some vacation time. Hm? Oh. Stack left some love. I doubt she'll mind if I... take care of it for
her.

**Cup**
Saddle bags full of books and a sleeping colt on my back.

Silly and Spitfire wore each other out outside of the Library. Flo thought it was best if little Spit said her, 'Goodbye,' while falling asleep. That ball of energy would have put up some resistance otherwise and probably still will when she wakes.

And then there's Silly. I don't know how he'll react to his First Friend going on to her cousin's house before she and Flo head back to Cloudsdale. Spitfire should be able to stay on clouds safely by then.

I need to start packing a few things.

Rounding the corner back to my apartment, that's when I see him. His cart is parked off to the side, and he is holding some paper -probably checking the address. Apple-yellow coat and apple-red mane topped with his favorite hat.

He turned, caught me staring, and gave me that same smile he's always made just for me, "Howdy, Buttercup."

Author's Note

I couldn't find a good Jim Varney clip for his famous catchphrase or for that old gas commercial.

I wrote the "Foal for, Four" bit almost a year ago. It was originally a part of a more serious discussion, but then I re-read that line and it sounded like an Abbot and Costello joke. I am so happy that I found those notes (the evening before posting the chapter); because I lost that notebook and found it last night, and now I got a chance to use it.

The Other Others, What We Now Know
One - lived sometime around the Founding
Two - lived long before the Founding
Three - lived around the ending of the Heroines' Guild of Equestria
Six, Seven, and The Ocho - currently unknown

I received a comment recently which inspired me to add a line of Warning to the story's description. Had a long rebuttal written with sources cited, but I decided against posting it. Doesn't seem worth it. Instead, I'm just going to post some of the citations, because they're funny:

Naked Gun, Austin Powers 1, Austin Powers 2, Austin Powers 3, Big Daddy, Caddyshack, Grown Ups, Spaceballs, Dumb and Dumber, Seinfeld, Armageddon, Impractical Jokers, Ren and Stimpy, *Rocko's Modern Life*