//------------------------------// // A Spot of Pizza at Buddy's Place // Story: Similar and Different: My Days as Ditzy // by house932 //------------------------------//         Oh no. No, this can’t be happening... My grandparents have always been here for me. The thought that they hated me based on something I couldn’t control was devastating, to say the least. I started us nearly crying.         Chris. Pull yourself together. You can’t just sit here because you think they hate you. She paused. Wait until you know they hate you.         Some help you are... At this point, the unhelpful one dragged us out of under the table and set us in flight. The flight was uneventful, even while flying past Kings Island. It appeared that she was getting better at digging through relevant memories...         We eventually flew into Monfort Heights, a census-designated place along Cheviot and North Bend Roads, and landed outside of LaRosa’s. I hesitated in opening the door, because who wouldn’t? Ditzy, having other ideas, simply used the same leg to swing the glass-and-metal door so that we can enter. The whole ‘mental dichotomy’ thing could get annoying. However, it could be very useful in situations where one of us is indisposed. Perhaps out of nervousness...         Okay... The moment of truth... I wasn’t nervous about this. Not at all. I’ve never been nervous about anything ever, and I most definitely do not change the subject when I am. Did I tell you about the time I won a state gold in Science Olympiad? The odd feeling that’s DEFINITELY NOT NERVOUSNESS was abated suddenly when the hostess spoke up almost in wonder.         “A pony? I thought you guys were faked!”         “I thought so too, until I woke up as one this morning.” No points for guessing who said that. If I were you, I’d guess that it was not the one who lived in this body since she was born. “Anyway, I’ve got a group waiting for me.” She looked in her book, and must have seen them.         “Okay. If you’ll follow me...” She was apparently suddenly distracted by me. “You look... familiar...”         “Derpy’s sister.” Ditzy input this before I could say anything. The hostess was surprised, but trying to hide it. Fortunately, this happened very close to the table, so awkwardness was temporarily kept to a minimum.         I say that because it’s about to get really awkward, really fast. At least, if I am correct, which I hope I’m not. As I hovered to the table, I noticed a distinct lack of my cousin. And there were only three menus.         “Hi, grandma. Hi, grandpa. Where’s Samantha?” My grandma, on the outer seat of the booth, immediately reached out and hugged me and, therefore, Ditzy. Because of this, we became unable to fly, and therefore became too heavy to hold like she was.         What I’m saying was, we fell onto the floor.         “Are you okay, Chris?” Grandma looked almost as guilty as if she’d dropped her grandson. I suppose there’s a good reason for that, considering she just did.         “I’ve had worse. You don’t learn to fly without a few crashes,” Ditzy pointed out. Sifting through her memories showed this to be very much the case.         Now look who’s sifting through whose memories...Not like I can complain.         “It’s true. She’s had much worse.” When I said this, by grandparents looked at me like I was a madman claiming to be their grandson. “I guess I should explain...”         “That would be best.” My grandpa is the quieter one, so when he says something, he means it. So I did explain, starting with waking up and ending with arriving at the table. Some parts had them surprised. Others, like me liking to fly, less so. At this point, the waiter came and asked what I would like to drink. I decided on a lime Fanta.         The normal things that happen when I visit my grandparents happened, but with a spare personality in at least one of us. After a few minutes, the waiter came back. He had no Fanta. Do you want to know what he had?         A giant grin, a camera, and a juicebox. I took the juicebox, did the obligatory pose, and then glared at him. Meanwhile, he was taking pictures. I wanted fancy Fanta drinks, not a juicebox!         “I apologize for my actions, but you have to admit it was pretty funny.”         “As long as I get the picture, I’ll be fine.” Ditzy apparently knows the juicebox thing. Makes sense, I do remember it...         As soon as the waiter left the memory card of the camera, my grandma finally spoke up. “What was that about?”         “Bronies have certain...trends when they draw. Like socks.” I knew a lot about the subject, so I might as well talk about it while taking out my laptop. “Another is juice boxes. That’s what just happened: someone found a way to put his own spin on something that’s been going around the internet for a long time.” I popped the card into my laptop: a Thinkpad named Santorini (All of my computers are named after volcanoes if I can help it.). I copied the picture and removed the card. “Of course, now that he has a picture of a real pony drinking from a juicebox, it’ll catch like a wildfire.”         “...I’m guessing you’re a part of this community?” Grandpa was always very good at reading me. I guess it’s all of the time we’ve spent together when I was little. That’ll make you able to read anyone.         “...Yes.” I saw no point in lying. Besides, this body is probably proof of that. Besides, they raised my mom, who likes the idea of bronies because we prove that the only criterion to watch a show is quality. Well, that’s not fully true; Firefly was canceled too fast.         “Okay. You did seem to know a lot about them.” At this point, the waiter comes back to take the orders and get his camera memory card back. I decided on a pineapple and green pepper calzone, and they ordered a sausage-pineapple pizza to share.         After the waiter left, we discussed what was going on with the pony thing. We came to a consensus fairly fast: People were turning into ponies and it’s probably Discord’s fault somehow. I contributed most of this, seeing as I know most about the possibilities. The waiter, in his awesome sense of timing, comes with the food. The calzone was delicious, and I finished it long before they did their pizza. Of course, this raised a question.         What happens when a pony eats meat? Ditzy’s reaction to this was physical to the point where I fell over.         NO! Just... No. She hasn’t seen this from experience; that much I can tell.         “Are you okay, Chris?” Grandma looked to where I fell, specifically under the table. I picked Ditzy and myself (I’ll never get used to this...) up off the floor, and she sat us up.         “Alternate personality troubles. Nothing to worry about.” Ditzy saying this earned a look as if I had been changed from a pony into a ten-foot-tall green cocker spaniel.         Did I tell them about the fact that you’re here?         Nope. You forgot. Gah, that mare’s so infuriating...         Why didn’t you say so?         I kiiinda forgot too...         Okay, that happens.         “Okay. This body came with its original personality.” I carefully omitted her name. We can’t have my grandparents needlessly worried, can we? Their needed worrying is all that I can bear causing. In fact, looking back, how did I miss it? Why is my brain so odd!?         “Oh, that explains it...” Oh yeah, I let my inner pony talk a lot while explaining. I dislike explaining things, so pawning it off was my prefered option.         “By the way,whatever happened to Samantha?” I finally realized that they hadn’t answered that.         “She had class.” Of course.         Don’t worry, we can check on her. She’s pretty cool.         Realizing we were done with our food, and had an awesome cousin to visit, we decided we should be on our way. “Well, we’d better be off.” Grandma pulled us into a tight hug. Luckily, I was on a table this time.         “You be safe out there. This Discord person...if he is one...doesn’t sound like the kind you want to hang around with.” We shared a laugh; she never talked like this. “Be safe out there. I want to see you when you come back.” Some things appear to run in the family.         As night descended on the city, I finally exited LaRosa’s and ascended to cruising altitude, spiraling towards Uptown. After all, that is towards campus.