//------------------------------// // ...The Rest of Your Life // Story: Of Toasters and Time Ponies // by Doctor Geagle //------------------------------// Brian stood frozen for a time, glancing at the beer occasionally to ensure that he had not consumed it without knowing, then crept over to the prone pony and carefully nudged it with his sneaker. When it didn’t respond he grabbed the shaft of the weed whacker from the pile of leftover parts, crouched down and began to prod it gently. The pony groaned and opened one eye. “Um, Brian,” the pony rolled its eye to look at him, “why are you poking me with a stick?” “Ace?” Brian probed, keeping the shaft at the ready. “Oh Lord,” the pony, presumably Ace, noticed the beer in Brian’s hand. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?” “Not yet,” Brian denied, setting the pole down and standing up. “But I might start.” “You know the rule,” Pony Ace sighed, sitting up. “No drinking in my house while I’m…” He trailed off, realizing his eye level was significantly lower than it should be. His gazed slowly rose to meet Brian’s. “When did you get so tall?” he asked, blinking. “Look, I’m not really sure how to tell you this,” Brian began cautiously. “But you’re kind of…sort of…” Ace stared silently. “A pony,” he finished. Awkward silence followed. “A pony,” Ace repeated blankly. “Yeah,” Brian acknowledged, rubbing the back of his neck. Ace looked down at the furry brown stumps that were his hands not five minutes ago. He examined his right hoof carefully for a moment. “You know,” Ace sighed, “I was half expecting this.” He tried to stand but the jeans got in the way. A few good kicks and a decent amount of undignified flailing solved that problem. “Aren’t you going to freak out or something?” Brian asked, dropping cross-legged to the floor. “I only freak out in private,” Ace stated firmly. “Which pony am I anyway?” “Doctor Whooves,” Brian motioned to the hourglass cutie mark. Ace turned his head to look. “Well that’s interest…” Ace trailed off, then whipped his head around to glare at his friend. “Wait a second. How did you know that? You’ve always said you weren’t a Brony!” “Sometimes I watch it with my sister,” Brian explained nervously. “She’s thirty,” Ace deadpanned, taking an ominous step forward. “I, I meant my niece,” Brian stammered and leaned away from the newly minted Equestrian. “But Doctor Whooves is never named in the show,” Ace countered menacingly, continuing his advance. “He’s entirely fanon.” “Uh…” Brian struggled feebly for an excuse. He was saved when Ace’s back foot caught the hem of his shirt, causing him to face plant with a yelp. “Maybe we should get you out of that shirt,” Brian chuckled, helping his friend up. “Yeah,” Ace sighed, letting the shirt be taken off. “But seriously, how did you know?” “After this whole pony thing started, I finally got curious enough to check it out,” Brian explained, tossing the shirt aside. “I found that there was a ‘Doctor Who’ pony and it just stuck with me.” “Ah,” Ace said, sitting down. “So, what did you think?” “Of the show?” Brian asked. “I haven’t watched it.” “What?” Ace exclaimed. “Why not?” “If I watch it and like it,” Brian explained, crossing his arms, “I’ll become a Brony. And if I become a Brony…” “You’ll become a pony,” Ace finished. “I figure one of us will need hands,” Brian quipped, opening his beer with said hands. “I don’t have hands,” Ace realized suddenly, staring at his missing appendages. “How will I play the piano now?” “You don’t play the piano now,” Brian pointed out, taking a drink. “But what if I want to?” Ace challenged. “Do you?” “No.” “Problem solved,” Brian took another sip. “So,” he continued, “What now?” “Want to watch TV?” Ace suggested. “…You just turned into a magical talking Time Pony, and you want to watch TV,” Brian deadpanned. Ace pondered this for a moment. “You’re right,” Ace agreed, standing up. “I should eat something first.” Brian stared in disbelief as Ace walked into the kitchen. After a moment, his mind caught up with the situation and he followed. He found Ace with his head shoved into the refrigerator, searching around for something to eat. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Brian admonished. “And how’d you get the fridge open?” “A wizard did it,” the muffled reply came. “Hey look, fried chicken!” “That’s not an…; Ponies don’t eat meat!” “Bullfit,” Ace attempted to swear around the KFC bucket clench between his teeth. He closed the door with a kick and walked back to the living room. He was halted when Brian snatched the bucket away from him. “Hey!” Ace shouted, glaring up at the thief. “Dude, what’s your problem?” Brian asked, holding the bucket out of reach. “I don’t have a problem,” Ace denied. “You just turned into a pony and you’re barely even acknowledging it,” Brian pointed out. “I’m fine,” Ace stated firmly. “No, you’re not,” Brian countered. “You’re acting like a jerk.” “Let it go, Brian,” Ace warned. “If you don’t deal with this now then it’s going to bite you in the ass later,” Brian rationalized. “There’s nothing to deal with,” Ace growled through gritted teeth. “Oh sure,” Brian mocked. “The whole growling and glaring thing proves that there is nothing…” “I’m terrified, OK!?” Ace snapped suddenly. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I just got used to being me and now I have to be someone else. And worse, I’m not even human. I’m a horse; a God-damned pony! I’m short, I don’t have hands, but it gets even better. Everyone’s going to look at me and they’re not going to see Ace. They’re not even going to see some guy who turned into a pony. They’re going to see the Doctor! They’re going to expect me to suddenly know all kinds of Time Lord Bullshit and show up and save the day with a clever trick and a fucking bowtie!” Brian stood silent as Ace vented. “And I can’t,” he continued softer, looking away. “Because I’m not him. I’m just some guy; I can’t save the world. I’m not super smart. I don’t have any fancy gadgets.” He turned his head back to Brian. “And if I’m supposed to be the Doctor; then where is my TARDIS?” Ka-Chung. The pair whipped their heads around to the source of the sound. The toaster’s plunger had sprung back up and the spatula had stopped spinning. It now pointed to the living room window, towards the last rays of the setting sun. “No way,” Brian breathed, breaking the silence that had filled the room. “Maybe it’s a coincidence,” Ace suggested, walking slowly over to the coffee table. “I thought you didn’t believe in coincidences,” Brian reminded him, following. “There’s only one way to find out,” Ace reasoned and pressed the plunger down once more. The spatula resumed its counter-clockwise rotation. “Toaster,” Ace began with a deep breath, “Where is the TARDIS?” The spatula continued to spin. “You said it wrong,” Brian argued, crouching down in front of the table. “Toaster, where is his TARDIS?” The plunger sprang back up and the spatula snapped around to the window. “So we spent over eight hour building a TARDIS compass out of my toaster and finished mere moments before I turned into Doctor Whooves,” Ace summed up. “I think the Universe is trying to tell us something.” “Oh no,” Brian groaned in realization, falling back onto the couch. “Oh yes!” Ace countered energetically. “Pack your bags; we’ve got a TARDIS to find!” “And what about the whole ‘I’m not the Doctor’ spiel you just gave?” Brian wondered aloud. “That was before,” Ace waved off his concerns. “Now I have a goal.” “You’re just going to ignore it, aren’t you?” Brian more stated than asked. “Yes!” Ace pumped his hoof into the air. “You know that’s not healthy.” “You know I’m not listening.” “Maybe your more like the Doctor than you thought,” Brian grumbled under his breath. “What was that?” Ace cocked his head. “Nothing,” Brian sighed, lacing his fingers behind his head. “So are we really going to do this?” “We have to,” Ace confirmed. “What if someone else finds it first?” “A road trip,” Brian murmured, laying down and gazing at the ceiling. “A great big road trip West; I’m glad I just got my car inspected.” XXXXXXX At the same time, a rather strange sight was to be seen in Central Park. Discord sat calmly at one of the many chessboards littered around the park. Across from him was his opponent, whose name was Frank. Discord was studying the pieces intently when his noes twitched. “Frank,” Discord looked up at his opponent, inhaling deeply, “do you smell that?” Frank said nothing, for he was a skeleton. “I smell,” he explained to his silent companion, taking another sniff, “a road trip. Yet another road trip; I do so love them! A pair of friends sets off on a noble quest for some obscure, pointless goal; practically begging for someone to come along and spice things up with a little chaos.” “Unfortunately,” he sighed, leaning back and lacing his claws behind his head, “when the new Princess No-Fun put out a call for the Elements of Harmony, proving she’s just as boring and predictable as the old Princess, every Brony seemed to think it was a personal invitation. Yes, there are lots and lots of helpless little ponies out on the open road, but they’re all going to the same place! What’s the fun of coloring outside of the lines if all the pictures have the same…?” Discord trailed off when something caught his attention. He rose from his seat and moved away from the table, gazing off into the night sky. After a moment, he stuck out his tongue and gave the air a slow dramatic lick. “What’s this?” he asked rhetorically, a sinister smile growing on his misshapen face. “It seems that this newest pair of road trippers isn’t going to see their precious princess after all. They don’t even know where they’re going! I haven’t had an opportunity like this in millennia! Oh, the possibilities are just endless! What do you think should I do first?” He spun around to inquire of his opponent and was startled to find that his tremendous joy had lifted him high into the air. A thought occurred to him as he floated gently to the ground. “Damn,” Discord swore, returning to Earth. “As much as I want to oversee this terribly tempting project personally, I just can’t leave Princess Faust and her band of merry do-gooders unsupervised for that long. I mean, who knows what kind of horribly harmonious trouble they could get into without their caring babysitter watching over them? Life’s just so unfair sometimes!” He stomped back over to the table. “I guess I could give them a chaos filled path to follow,” he conceded, slumping into his seat. “But I’ll be too busy to watch and chaos is no fun if I’m not there to see it. What to do, what to do?” Discord’s opponent caught his eye. “Say Frank,” Discord began casually, leaning over the table, “Are you doing anything after this game?” Frank said nothing, for he was a skeleton. “Then I don’t suppose you’d mind watching over the pair and reporting back all of the juicy details?” Frank said nothing, for he was a skeleton. “Excellent!” Discord snapped his fingers. “There, the path is set and you are my official eyes and ears. Now, back to the…” He looked down at the game board and saw that Frank’s dragon had moved to B21, placing Discord’s thimble into an inescapable Double Jeopardy. “You’re better than I thought,” Discord grumbled, stroking his goatee in contemplation. Frank said nothing, for he was a skeleton.