Chapter one.
Right well lets get down to business shall we?
My name as you probably know is the Doctor. What's my real name? Well Time Turner actually. Never really did care for it. Too many t's if you must know.
How'd I get called the Doctor I hear you ask? My aren't you curious little things. No, no its quite alright. I always reward curiosity. Strangely it helped me find my new name.
The Doctor. Yes, that is quite the story to tell.
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Lets imagine were back in Trottingham. This is where I spent some of my formative years. I grew up rather boringly to be honest. My mother and father where quite boring so lets skip them eh? We don't need to hear about that do we? Obviously I had parents. How else would I be born so with that in mind well clear the obvious and land safely on the unobvious. Yes I know its not a word I was merely trying.... oh never mind lets just get to the fun stuff. The things that are unique to me.
As you've probably noticed by all that time you've been staring at my flank (yes I've noticed. Don't worry I'm not offended but my eyes are up here old sport) that my cutie mark is rather odd. Its an hourglass. Strangely most cutie marks are actually rather conceptual. i.e. they only represent what they are meant to in the abstract. Take our resident school instructor. The Miss Cheerilee sports a rather odd combination of smiling flowers. Weird as her special talent is teaching. Of course its a metaphorical picture of help young ones to bloom etc but honestly if you did not know her talent is that what you would guess? Yes I am asking a lot of rhetorical questions but you can hardly answer me now can you? (see what I did there? And also here? A little humour for you ponies. You may laugh whenever. Doctors orders.) So if most cutie marks are abstract what does my mark mean? That I am more patient than any other Stallion? That I function with a clocklike schedule an indeed do everything according to time? Balderdash. Really at this stage I have no idea what my cutie mark means. I know now of course but at this point in my life that we are so fondly remembering I didn't. Understood? No? Well then maybe my cutie mark is wasting ponies time.
Ahem back to the story. Living in Trottingham without a clue to my special talent was rather odd to say the least. It was like being a blank flank all over again. Or to begin as I have no memory of being a blank flank. Oh shush I know skipped over it because it was boring and it is. Nothing is more boring than nothing. Except maybe pears.
Fortunately while not being able to use whatever talent I had, I did have an unbelievable knack for getting myself into trouble. So the scene is set and here is where we enter, a little alley in a side street of Trottingham. The area in particular is a run down (thank you Maregret Thatcher) and inside is four ponies. Two of which I expect you are most familiar with.
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“You give us the money missy. Or else.”
Or else what? God I never understand what these kind of ponies mean. If they want something else then why not ask for it. Or is it meant to be a threat? How marvellously quaint.
Looking down into the alley from its mouth I spot two rather large burly ponies. The large figure on the left is a grey coated earth pony with a scar running up of his back fetlocks, the other is smaller but not by much. She is a rusty coloured pegasus, feathers missing from her right wing. Celestia what are they feeding ponies in this slum? Steroids and knives?
In front of the two bruisers, who for the sake of hilarity I will mentally name Bunny and Cuddles, is a light grey pegasus pony. Quite a Ditzy thing if she managed to get on the wrong side of the gruesome twosome.
“But I have until next week. Surely the boss...” she squeaked out before Bunny the pegasus cut over her.
“The boss wants his money, Hooves. “ She said with just a hint of menace. Honestly it was rather impressive. Too much and its far too menacing. Too little and its not menacing enough. She seems to be a master of menacing measuring.
“But..but..”
“No butts Hooves. Yours is big enough for two ponies anyway.” Bunny chuckled.
“Oi you oiks her arse is perfectly formed!” I shouted. Now I know what a lot of you where thinking. Why oh why did you say anything at all? They are two extremely large ponies wanting to pulverise somepony into little meaty chunks. You would have been fine if you just walked away. I know, I know.
Hmm? Thats not what you were going to say? Ooooohhh you wanted to know about why I said that phrase exactly. Well... um.. its all very embarassing. Suffice it to say I wanted to help the poor mare from her difficulties and this just seemed like the proper time to join in and help defend her. Starting with her honour.
I mean you know who we're talking about here right? You know what a lovely....oh right distractions. Ahem back the story you perverts.
Well her reaction to my fervent and might I add heartfelt outburst was perfectly visible to all as she turned beetroot red.
Cuddles and Bunny on the other hand turned around to me. Did I mention this was not one of the smartest things I had ever done?
Deciding to take the initiative I pawed the ground, put my head down and charged Cuddles while screaming all the way. Again I have done much cleverer things. Did I ever tell you of the time I invented a machine to make ponies grow vestigial fingers? Really it was quite the amazing feat. It came to me at a party. Oh wait the story. You want to know what happens next and all these distractions are pointless?
Ahem.
I charged at cuddles bravely bellowing a warriors call. (Yes, I know it could also be a scream but I am the hero of this tale so what I say goes.) My amazing warrior call obviously must be working as he looked at me as if I was mad.... right until I smacked clean into him causing me to bounce off his overly muscled torso and flat onto my back, cracking my head off the ground as I went.
Here the story for me gets a little hazy. As I lay there I recall hearing a mocking laugh and what appeared to sound like Bunny saying “Really? That the best you could do?” before some more laughter and a large thump as a pony collapsed to the ground grasping for breath.
The obvious explanation being that I hit my head rather badly knocking me for six along with my faculties. It must have been a hallucination on my part, most embarrassing actually.
Still dazed I heard a voice call out to me.
“Are you ok mister?” my rather endearingly dense companion said.
Being that I was flat on my back in a filthy alley with a brain contusion (if those laughing hallucinations are anything to go by.) I was most certainly not. Still I was barely thinking clearly but one thought came into my muddled mind. I needed medical help.
“Doctor!” I cried weakly. “Doctor!”
She just looked at me in that way she has and replied to my call for help despite it not actually being for her.
“Ok, Doctor then. Doctor?” She tapered off suggestively, poking me rather painfully with her forehooves.
“Hooves?” I said confused by the sudden pain and prodding.
“Doctor Whooves? That's a funny name.”
And that is how I picked my new name.
Author's Note
Just to stop (potentially) lots of angry comments and messages no that isn't the real ending and no that isn't how he got his name.
Please don't hate me for my terrible sense of humour.
