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Authors go to Equestria. Then things get weird
Author note: Exactly what it says on the tin, folks. This was supposed to be part of an epic collab between a bunch of us who each had more than 400 followers apiece. I'm not going to name who was involved, but odds are we would have broken the featured box. This is my contribution.
The Carousel Boutique in Ponyville was open for business. Rarity, the proprietor, was working on fitting a customer for a new outfit. An array of fancy mirrors in the center of the floor let her see the dress from all angles.
The white unicorn was an expert on fashion. Anypony would agree. Those that didn’t simply didn’t know what they were talking about. Rarity was confident enough in her ability and secure enough in her vanity to be the foremost dressmaker in Ponyville.
Near the front door of the boutique, an earth pony sat in a comfortable chair, his hat pulled low. Rarity glanced at the orange-colored stallion, assuming he was waiting to get a moment of her time. She hadn’t seen him enter the shop, but she’d been busy. He sat rather strangely, draped over the chair as if he had fallen over backwards. His black mane and tail were untidily spread around him.
The mare that had just been fitted for a dress paid her bill and turned to go. Rarity went to pick up the shop a bit before greeting the next customer. Scissors, needles, and scraps of cloth were scattered around.
The pony with the dress left, the sound of the door closing startling the stallion awake. He tipped his head back, revealing grey eyes below the wide brim of his hat.
He looked around, taking in the interior of the boutique, the bolts of fabric, and the carousel horse-like pony mannequins, all the while having a quiet little panic attack. Okay, it looks like I’ve stumbled into a bad human-in-Equestria fanfic. Am I dreaming or just insane?
It was lucky that our silently-freaking pony was in fact a brony, from a country called the United States on a planet called Earth. He’d started out watching a very nice animated cartoon called My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, and had progressed from there into writing fanfiction of it. It was hard to deny that he’d dreamed of going to Equestria, but would have quickly dispelled such thoughts had he known that it could actually happen.
The stallion fought to manage his emotions. He knew that panicking wasn’t going to help. Getting control of his thoughts was a little difficult because he was a natural worrier. Where am I going to live? How will I survive here?
Between an extensive knowledge of trivia and engineering, plus some wilderness training, he felt confident that he could scrape together some kind of life in the forest if necessary. But wait, was it possible that this one of those fanfictions where he’d replaced a pre existing resident of Ponyville? If so, he would already have a place to stay.
Who am I? He glanced down at his body, sitting in the chair like Lyra, which is to say like a human. Strangely that made sense, because the last thing he remembered was sitting in the seat of his car.
The man-turned-stallion twisted to see the pictogram on his hip. It seemed like fun and games to call them cutie marks, but was horribly emasculating to actually have one. He recognized the symbol as the hood ornament from a Plymouth Valiant.
I’ve been turned into my original character! This sucks! My OC is a dick!
The character named Plymouth Valiant had been a creation inspired by the former human’s own car. In fact, he’d been driving it right up until the point when his sudden relocation to another universe had happened.
The stallion frowned and tried to remember what had transpired to bring him here. It had been dark. He’d been driving over the speed limit, albeit on a familiar road. After that, there’d been a sudden, unexplained deceleration. The airbags had done nothing, because there weren’t any installed in such an old car.
While he didn’t know it, a horrific crash had been the cause for his deportation from Earth. Back in the mists of time, the year 2001 to be exact, a movie studio blocked off a road in southern California to film some stunts for a street racing move that involved Paul Walker. The blockage forced the rerouting of a truck carrying a shipment of steel belts for tires.
The tire factory was not pleased, and had to dip into its emergency stock of belts. Unfortunately, inventory being what it is, the error was never really corrected and set off a butterfly effect of parts shortage. Soon, inferior goods were being introduced to cover the demand.
One of those crappy belts found its way into a tire, and at a particularly inconvenient time, it broke. The tread ballooned, throwing the carcass out of balance and setting up a resulting force that ripped apart the tire.
The drag and traction differences were not balanced quickly enough by steering action and the car, the Plymouth Valiant, swerved violently to the side, facing a particularly nasty roadside feature. There may have been an epic ball of fire, but no cool guys walked slowly away from it.
The lesson of the story, even though the stallion didn’t know it at the time, was that Paul Walker had done him wrong.
Slightly panicked about his situation, and with no Vin Diesel in sight to save him, the pony pushed his hat back and got out of the chair. The flat-crowned hat was made of tan leather and still seemed to fit his new cranium, perhaps due to the wear accumulated over long years of use. For some reason, the hat was the only part of his clothing that had made the jump to Equestria.
The pony liked to think that he was a fairly normal human being, and therefore uncomfortable with nudity. He tried to reassure himself with the thought that in Equestria, it was simply a way of life. It didn’t really help.
Rarity came walking back into the room. “I’m sorry that took so long, I was busy with another customer. I can help you now, Mr…?”
The stallion thought quickly. He certainly didn’t want to be his OC, same appearance or not. He fumbled a few words, and finally replied, “Dart. Dodge Dart.”
“Well Mr. Dart, if you’ll please come this way I’ll get you fitted,” said Rarity.
“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not quite sure why I’m here.”
The white unicorn was taken aback. “You aren’t here for a new outfit? Perhaps a replacement for that worn out piece of headgear?”
“Er, no,” he replied. “How long have I been sitting there?”
She thought for a moment. “I first saw you dozing in that chair a few minutes ago and assumed you’d come in while I was upstairs getting a few supplies. Why?”
“The last I remember, I was a different species, on a different planet.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Not another one!”
“This...happens often?” he asked.
“You aren’t the first stallion to wake up in my boutique with no recollection of where he’s been.” She heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, Rarity, you are a minx.”
“But I do remember,” said Dart.
“No you don’t,” she corrected tersely. “Those are the rules. Now get out.”
Confused, the stallion let her shove him forcefully out of the building. Rarity slammed the door behind him.
Ponyville looked just like what Dart had seen through his TV set, minus the small Hub logo in the lower right corner. He stood for a moment, getting his bearings.
Fluttershy came along, leading two ponies down the street towards the library. One of them paused and pulled a glass container out of his backpack, taking a swig from it. It was a bottle in the shape of a human skull.
Dart decided to follow them, if for no other reason to find out if the pony would share his drink.