Deep Sigh was having second thoughts about this.
Did he NEED to be here? Probably. Life had been hard since… well for years now. But did he really want to be here?
His friends had needled and pestered him for weeks about it. He had been happy that at least some people were accepting about his… situation, but now he wasn’t so sure. He could be spending this, a Friday night of all things, at home doing anything else.
But he was giving this of all things a chance. Instead of being curled up on the couch with a bag of chips and a bad movie, he was here at the Manehattan community center, seated around various other ponies that all looked uncomfortable.
But maybe that was what group therapy was about? Sitting in a circle and being uncomfortable? Celestia knew he’d be uncomfortable no matter what he did.
He surveyed the other ponies in the group. Many were straining their heads trying to look down at the others, trying to get a look at their cutie marks.
After all that, that was what this was all about, wasn’t it? Cutie marks?
Noticing that everyone was trying to get a sense of each other’s flanks, the therapist in the center, a cream colored pegasus, put his hooves together and cleared his throat.
“Alrighty, it seems like everyone has arrived so let’s try and get started. It looks like we’re almost all new faces here, and I have to say I’m proud of all of you for making this first step.” He smiled at the group, who mostly just grumbled.
“Now before we go around and introduce ourselves, I’d just like to emphasize why we’re all here. It’s important to remember that you’re not among strangers here. Look at each and every pony around you and you’ll see someone who is going through exactly the same thing you are: They’re facing everyday struggles because they have what ponies would call “an unfortunate cutie mark.”
He was met with blank stares. Unconcerned, he continued his spiel.
“This doesn’t make you any less of a pony, and this group is all about finding methods to deal with that as well as feel comfortable in your skin, so to speak.”
More blank stares. He cleared his throat, motioning to a haughty looking unicorn with a light yellow coat.
“Vanishing Act, seeing as you’re our only recurring member here today, why don’t you go first?”
The unicorn sighed, standing up and moving to the center of the circle. Looking him over, Deep Sigh got the impression that he had been through this entire routine before. If he had to give a first impression, this Vanishing Act looked like a college professor who severely wished he had tenure.
“My name is Vanishing Act.” Said the unicorn “I, for better or worse, am in the same situation as all of you. You don’t need to say hello, we’re not recovering alcoholics.”
“Vanishing Act.” chided the therapist.
“Apologies. As you can see, my situation is… not ideal.”
Deep Sigh hesitated, looking him over. “You don’t… you don’t seem to have a cutie mark? Is that the problem?”
The unicorn shook his head, frowning. “I have a cutie mark, thank you very much.”
“Then what is-”
“Allow me to demonstrate.” His horn glowed, and gradually the color of his body began to shift.
“As you might know, no magic can change a cutie mark; this includes any aspect of it. Believe me, there have been… attempts. However, I can demonstrate the properties of my… unfortunate cutie mark by simply changing my own appearance and-” He rambled on as the spell spread over him, pouring a deep inky blue over his coat like a squashed jelly donut.
Lecturing. Definitely a teacher then. When the spell was complete, he nodded towards his flank. They all leaned forward to get a better look.
Though the rest of his body had shifted, there was now a clear light yellow pattern of swirls and circles on his flank. Another unicorn, one sitting next to Deep Sigh gave a gasp of understanding.
“I see! So you happen to have a cutie mark that is the exact same shade and color as the rest of your coat!”
Vanishing Act nodded, still frowning.
Deep Sigh raised his hand. “So… what’s the issue?”
“The issue?” Vanishing Act’s frown deepened.
“A cutie mark is what society defines as the ultimate mark of maturity: the transition from child to adult. I’ve had to sit through ten thousand ‘how I got my cutie mark’ essays from bright-eyed tweens to know that much. So tell me, what do you think it means when a fully grown stallion walks around with no visible cutie mark at all?” He snarled.
“The issue is that without applying a constant spell, the average pony takes one look at me and assumes that I’m some sort of mentally and emotionally stunted… foal in a stallion’s body!”
The other unicorn paused. “Are you mentally and emotionally stunted?”
Vanishing Act sputtered. “I am the head illusionist at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns! I have two ex-wives!”
“Vanishing Act.”
“I make estimated tax payments!” He ranted. “My back hurts and I don’t know why!”
“Vanishing Act!” The therapist chided. “Please, sit down.”
The unicorn grumbled and got back in his seat, the group leader smiling as he looked over everyone and spoke with a practiced tone.
“Now it’s good that you feel frustrated over the problems with your cutie mark, that’s a natural feeling to have. As a returning member of our circle, you have to remember the rules. This is a judgment free zone, because everypony here is going through the same things you are.”
He smiled and pointed to his flank. “All of us, myself included, have to face a lot of daily trials and prejudice from other ponies because of our cutie mark. You may feel angry, you may feel frustrated, sad, and any number of emotions. But I want you to be able to express yourself and explain yourself freely. But I’d like you to try and do it calmly.”
“Does that include you, doc?” asked Deep Sigh. The therapist beamed.
“Of course! That’s originally why the clinic started this program. At a young age I felt a calling to try and help those who were vulnerable, to defend the helpless so to speak. My main job here is actually social work, and unfortunately I deal with more than my fair share of foal abuse cases.”
He stood up and let everyone see his cutie mark.
“Protecting kids is my passion, which led to… this.”
Deep Sigh squinted at the therapist’s flank.
“It looks like someone punching a baby.”
“It does look that way, yes.”
“Do you… punch babies?”
“I do the exact opposite.”
The rest of the group murmured their understanding. Finally the earth pony in the corner, a brown coated stallion, spoke up.
“At least y’all can explain yer cutie marks. If I do it it just makes my darn life even worse.” He said, turning around.
Deep Sigh squinted at the image on the stallion’s flank. It looked like a series of numbers and dashes to him. Actually it kind of looked like-
“That’s your Social Security Number, isn’t it?” He realized. The earth pony nodded sadly.
“I ain’t even good at math!” He said, throwing his hooves up. “I got my identity stolen fifteen times! Fifteen! I have to cover it up with a sticky note…”
The group nodded sympathetically, but Deep Sigh was morbidly impressed.
“I didn’t think a cutie mark could be based on something that keeps happening to you.” He admitted, eyeing the unicorn next to him. Her mark was a pair of leather cuffs and what looked to be some handcuffs.
“Then again maybe I’m wrong?”
The unicorn glared at him. “I’m a leather and metal worker!” She snapped.
“Alright.”
“I make utilities!”
“Okay.”
“For like, construction and tradeponies!”
“I wasn’t implying otherwise.” He protested as the therapist raised his hand to cut them off.
“Another ground rule for our newest members, this isn’t a competition. Feel free to explain what’s happening, but try not to frame it as one of us having it worse or better off than the others. We’re all friends here, we’re all in this together.”
Deep Sigh snorted. “I think I may have you all beat anyway.”
“It’s not a competition, Deep Sigh.”
“Still.” He replied, turning to show his own cutie mark off.
Now curious, Vanishing Act looked over at his flank, squinting as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
“It… seems to be some sort of little red figure on top of a sandwich? A red monkey? Something to do with monkey sandwiches?”
Deep Sigh took a deep breath. Best to get it over with.
“It’s Spiderman fucking a cheeseburger.”
Silence. Their mediator coughed.
“Deep Sigh, I’d prefer if we avoided inappropriate language unless absolutely necessary.”
“Sorry doc, but it is necessary. I’m really not sure how else to describe it. It’s Spiderman Fucking A Cheeseburger.”
“Spider-man?” repeated Vanishing Act.
“Yes.”
“Fucking a-”
“Fucking a cheeseburger, yes.”
The old unicorn scratched his chin pensively.
“If you don’t mind me asking, do you… work in the adult entertainment industry at all?”
“Nope. I’m a clerk for the county board.”
“Do you like to like, grill burgers at all?” asked the leatherworker.
“I’m terrible at cooking and, if we’re being honest, also lactose intolerant.”
There was a thoughtful pause, shared amongst the group as a whole.
“So… what exactly does your cutie mark mean?” asked Vanishing Act.
“I have no idea.”
Another thoughtful pause, the group lost in morbid contemplation. Finally, the earth pony raised his hoof.
“I got a question.”
“Yes?”
“What’s a spiderman?”
Deep Sigh sighed deeply.
At least he was among friends.
