//------------------------------// // Chapter 6, or Sociophobiac tendencies - ho!, and also Not a single tick. // Story: Bad Trip Diaries // by The Boorywooch //------------------------------// That blasted day when I went into the public with Twilight All things considered, I was getting pretty accustomed with the simple, plain life in Ponyville – though the nicotine hangover kicked in here and there, making me grumpy. Even Spike's nutrition habits never shocked me anymore – I mean, the bloody scaled arse ate GEMSTONES. Like, for real. Munching on quartz crystals, as if it was candy – I certainly thought I'd have a bloody heart attack on sight. Nevertheless, my psychic proved liable enough, so I just shrugged it off easily. As for my request to find a way back home... Oi, things get much more complicated here. Both me and Twilight got our mouths full with research – every book in the library, related to, as much as I am repulsed from the term, 'magic', were thoroughly studied and reread, to no avail, sadly. And, as I was growing gloomier with each failed attempt, Twilight seemed more and more giddy for the challenge. Nay, she certainly is more of a crazy scientist lot that the bluestocking one. I managed to put a bolt onto the door of my bunk quarters; once she had snuck on me in my sleep, collecting the samples of my hair. I don't want to wake up to being collected any more samples from me – be it blood, saliva or anything else of the biological substances in me system. However, aside from the high science, the mundane things also tend to pop out here and there – for instance, Twilight, noticing the dexterity fingers provide, once claimed that I should braid her mane, since it gets in the way; my objections, of course, were neglected. The other matter is that once in a while Twilight actually left the library – doing the shopping, for instance, and not the regular kind – groceries and all alike – nay, she restocked on parchment, ink, quills... And, given the fact that I was around, she considered that a cheap labor would come in handy... or hoofy?.. blast. Anyway, with a thrust of her magnetic field, emanating from the horn-ish protrusion on her forehead, she plucked me from the place where I've been, dragging me outside and quickly debriefing on the matter: I was meant to act naturally, not startle the ponies around and, basically, act as a functional appendage – or a silent servant. Oi that tickled me dignity so hard, I actually felt the urge to tell the snobby pony who was who back in me world, thus restoring the dominance of the humankind... though I've opted to do as I'm told, or rather I was risking to apply a role of mount to myself. I swear to gog, I felt it coming. So, as we were navigating the streets of the town, making our way to whatever destination (or destinations) Twilight had, I was trying to act naturally. Which was kind of hard, granting that an average pony was as tall as my lowest rib, so I was at least towering above the ponyfolk. A queer feeling, that Gulliver must've had in the land of midgets. But, true to my word, I was smling to the ponies, waving them a hand and beaming friendliness by any means possible; however, the tiny equines were shocked with my appearance, maing googly eyes and generally avoiding contact with alien – id est, me. Boy, that felt sure not nice. All things done, I was handed a number of packages, and we proceeded back to the library. I could feel my facial muscles spasming with so much smling I've done, and a rivulet of sweat streaming down my spine non-stop, making the fabric stick to the body unpleasantly; I felt like a clockwork doll, made for a stupid purpose of smiling and waving a hand. Like a blasted Chinese Lucky Cats. Urgh. I should get the heck out of here – and fast. Gogdamn my face hurts. That very day when the solution was seemingly found. Have you ever been greeted from your slumber with the acute feeling, that the sky itself decided to drop down on ye? No? You better don't. Quite a nasty experince, for those of weaker nerves might even make their heads white with terror. As for me, I just screamed like a total bitch, jumping out of bed and fleeing to the farthest corner of me quarters, huffing, bulging me eyes and clenching fists convulsively. However, no cosmic disaster wasn't there to wreak. That was just Morgan – or Owlowiscious, as they called this featherbrush here – perching on the headstand of me bunk, ogling me and greeting me with a 'Hoo'. Bloody feathers-for-brains. Caught me with me pants off. I demanded to know, what on the living world was up, since he had exerted himself to get into me quarters through the open window – since the bolt was soundly shut. Of course, the answer was a craned head and another 'Hoo'. “Ye, ye, I got it...” “Hoo?” “Me!” “Hoo!” Feathers-for-brains indeed. After the usual morning routine (gog, that felt nice after all the time I've spent in the cellar, devoid of simple hygienic procedures), still keeping a small grudge at Morgan – Owlowiscious, I descended the stairs, calling out loud a greeting to whoever heard it. Seems like Twilight had been up all night – she seemed really excited, almost frantic, and she was oi so much disheveled. All of her fur was. Carefully inquiring what was the matter at hand – or, rather, at hoof – I carefully treaded towards the kitchen, intending to stuff some nutritional value down me gullet. However, I was deprived of such possibility, and rather rudely, as a firm tug of Twilight's magnetic field (yes, and I still deny the concept of magic, aye) pulled me to her. The mare presented me with a parchment, that looked like some checklist – and sure it was a long one. I scanned through it and rolled me eyes back – the best part of the checklist seemed not simply challenging to accomplish – downright impossible. I've informed my host on that – but that feverish glistening of her eyes told me clearly, that she is about to have me run through every single point of the checklist, starting now. Oi. As we made it through a good two thirds of the checklist, Twilight explained, that she had adressed the Princesses, and they've given here the whole list of possible ways to solve the problem; after we were done, I've done some research on the nature of 'Princesses', and found out that Equestria seemed to be a theocratic oligocracy; but that's not the most important. Another vicious experiment finished, leaving me bulging eyes and huffing for air, drenched in icy-cold water and clattering teeth, while Twilight was observing me with curiosity; what was she trying to find out – I cannot even presume, maybe that I will become transparent and disappear, or implode, or just disperse to subatomic particles – I don't know. The fact is that I was still there, incorporated, cold and wet, and if me eyes had the power to burn – Twilight would've sported two scorched orifices in her body already. One way or another, the checklist was done with, and not a single tick was put. Only the crosses.