The Conversion Dream: Aftertaste

by Microshazm

Chapta One

SOMEWHERE IN THE EASTERN HEMISPHERE

I wake up and notice it’s still dark outside. No wonder, ‘cause it’s five o’clock in the morning. How can I still feel so refreshed? I’ve only slept for... 20 minutes! What the hell woke me up?

I lie on my side with my eyes toward the door, adjusting themselves to the darkness. It’s open, my dog has apparently opened it and is now staring me in the eyes less than a half a metre away. “What’s the matter, dog?” I ask and he takes a step closer and licks my nose. His tongue is hairy. I hope he hasn’t eaten anything too bad... And damn, my nose, it’s swollen! I touch it and it’s huge -- have I been in a fight or something?

Besides my overgrown facial appendage, I feel another thing that’s out of place: there’s a piece of paper stuck on my cheek. No, it’s fucking STAPLED onto me! With three staples, no less. What a jolly day is this one becoming. I try to get them loose from the inside with my tongue. After ten minutes of relentless effort, I manage to get the staples off, one by one, the salty combination of copper and blood filling my mouth. I savour it for a while and finally spit the three staples off the edge of my bed into the garbage bin.

The piece of paper falls on my pillow and I read the shaky writing:

I’m sorry, I had to use the stapler since I couldn’t find any tape and it’s crucial that you read this. I give you the short version: I found a small bottle of purple liquid and decided to inject it to you while you slept. Yes, it’s that simple. Don’t try to find the needle or the bottle, they’ve been taken care of. Thrusting random stuff into people shouldn’t be as fun as it is, but hey, what can you do about it?

So I’m guessing you’re feeling a little off right now. I don’t know exactly what that thing does because I couldn’t read the label since I spilled raspberry tea on it. Y’know it’s really hard to try, make, and drink that stuff with no thumbs...

First of all, try to remember the dream you had, it’s important that you do, or at least that’s what my homies have told me. But then again, most of my homies aren’t even smart enough to read. Second of all, try not to eat meat for awhile, preferably forever, it’s really good for the environment and your wallet too.

Time to wrap this up: whatever’s happened don’t freak out or panic. The dream must’ve given you some sort of advice how to deal with the situation, and you really have to take that dream seriously. I’m telling you it was REAL! And so is this note.
Love, your dog Hamsterjelly

PS. Feed me you lazy bastard, or next time I’ll use a nail gun.

I turn my head away from the note only to see that Hamsterjelly is no longer there. A second later I hear the familiar sound of my car’s engine bursting into life, and then it drives off. My dog just stole my car... I’m finding it hard to believe that this isn’t the dream.

The dream. Remember the dream. I burrow my face into the pillow and try to recall the imagery. There was... pizza, no, that was last night’s dinner. I have to go deeper. I press my nose hard against the fabric and envelope my whole head with the pillow. Then I finally see it: pink, winged, unicorn-elephants parading around in my head, singing a song to an upbeat techno rumble with oriental undertones. The crude caricatures leave trails of letters behind them as they walk, run, fly, ski, and ride unicycles.

Look out! Look out!
Pink elephants on parade
Arrayed in braid, our DNA
The last time is our day an’ age
Look out! Look out!
Pink elephants on parade
I couldn’t stand the sight of man
I’ll do what I can, when shit hits the fan
But technicolor pachyderms
Is really much for me
You’re not the type to faint
But seeing things you know that ain't
I'm afraid you need my aid
Pink elephants!
Pink elephants!
Uniphanticorns!
This is what happens when you drink too much!

That purple liquid-whatever packed some heavy shit.

I pull my head back up. This all feels just a big load of crap -- I should’ve known about the devious nature of that mutt. The way he looked at me when I ate, the way I looked at him when he ate. Hamsterjelly was always such a charmer and apparently an evil, insidious, son of a mongrel to boot. Whoever taught him to read and write deserves a medal, though.

I slowly crawl my way out of the bed and head for the bathroom for some damage evaluation. I must look terrible. My body hair has grown incredibly fast: now I can’t see any of my skin through the dark brown covering. I probably look like Bigfoot or something... but a lot smaller, as I quickly notice that I can barely reach the handle of the bathroom door with my chin. But you gotta make do, and I open the door. The mirror shows me nothing. I’m too damn tiny.

I jump a few times in order to get a brief look at my face. Unfortunately there’s little I can deduce from the glimpses, except that someone has dyed my hair; it’s green, very lightly, but still green. Thanks a lot Hamsterjelly.

I’m confused is all I can say right now. I’d go back to sleep, but I’m not tired, and it certainly is too early to get drunk -- it even might be Sunday, I don’t really know. I decide the kitchen is the best place to continue my search for answers. My current stature only gets me a limited view of the contents of the table, so I hop on a chair and start perusing. Indeed, someone’s had pizza.

The odour of ham and cheese coming from the three empty boxes is alluring, and I start licking the cardboard for clues. Grease, fat, oil, call it whatever you want, but it has never tasted this good. After going through all the three boxes I put them aside. Under them lies an assortment of random-looking papers, out of which the most brightly colored one catches my attention.

It’s wonderful! It’s miraculous! It’s safe and totally free!

Ponification changes your life for the better. There are thousands of happy converted, who are not regretting their choice. Just go and ask any of them, you can never go wrong with asking!

We at Tikkurila Conversion Bureau are always excited to have new attendees, and you are, of course, welcome to join. Remember to bring your friends as well. The more the merrier!


The inside of the advertisement contains lots of instructions regarding the Conversion Bureaus, the ten days one was to spend inside, and some info about Equestria in general. But more importantly: WTF!? They’re STILL sending me these things!? I’ve been throwing them away for the last... three months at least, but no, a new one every week.

I move the Bureau advertisement away and find another similar-looking flyer. Unlike the previous one, this one’s a bit older, I can smell the ink has aged for awhile.

Extremely Awesomerific Day To You! You Have Won!

What? You didn’t participate in any contest? The thing is that nopony has to participate in the Equestria Daily Raffle. The Raffle participates for you! And as it reads on top: You Have Won!

With this message comes a full 3 ounces of ponification serum. Awesomerific, is it not? Of course it is! With this, you, George Calooney, can be converted into a pony in twenty minutes FLAT! This new set is even 20% cooler, for it comes with instructions and 50 easy steps of adjusting to your new pony body!

The Pinnacle of Everyone’s Revolution wish you a happy day and an even happier new beginning!

The Pinnacle of Everyone’s Revolution and the PER logo are both registered trademarks of The Ponification For Earth’s Rebirth and should only be used in circumstances involving (preferably forced) ponification.

Who the hell is George Calooney? The odds of someone with that name living around here are next to nothing. Two words pop instantly to my mind: Hamsterjelly -- it’s his doing. He’s stolen some poor man’s mail. Tell the dog to fetch the paper and this is what you get. I know I’m going to catch him and then he’ll be sorry.

The last piece of paper on the pile fits the current theme quite nicely. The dust in its edges reveal this flyer to be the oldest one of three. I never got this one by mail -- my cousin handed it to me in person about six months ago:

The world is changing fast, and humanity is going to change with it, but it’s YOU, who chooses the direction. Will you:

Do nothing? -- Ask first, answer later.
Go to the nearest Conversion Bureau? -- Live your life as a talking horse under absolute dictatorship.
Or join The Human Liberation Front? -- Ensure the survival of humanity, save Earth from the pony menace and become a hero.

If you choose yourself and the ones you love, you choose The Human Liberation Front. We encourage everyone to join! Bring your dog, bring your grandma, for humanity needs everybody’s contribution.

When he handed me the flyer, he was excited. His anger and youth, after multiple failed attempts by him as well as others, finally finding a true calling. He wanted it to be dangerous, he was there to show humanity’s tough side to the ponies and succeeding. I haven’t seen him after that day, or maybe I have but always hidden under a uniform. He’ll fight to the last breath.

How could THIS be on the same table I scattered pizzas last evening? I’m not that disorganised -- though I totally have no idea where I had this flyer stored. Hamsterjelly obviously has a clue, somehow. And somehow he’s able to steal my car.

No... That’s insane! He can’t drive a car! He can’t even make tea without spilling it! But the sounds I heard couldn’t have come from any other vehicle than the tiny Renault I use as my means of transportation. It still beckons investigation.

I get off the chair and make my way to the front door which I notice is slightly ajar. What a careless dog I have; he leaves doors open in cold wintertime, a real nuisance. It really is a bit cold outside, but I decide not to bother with any extra clothing as this shouldn’t take too long. Where are my clothes, anyway? I feel... naked.

My car isn’t in the parking lot as I expected. Instead there’s a black poodle sitting in its place -- a very familiar-looking poodle. “Hamsterjelly, you dimwitted dog! Where’s my car!?” His ears perk at the sound of my voice, but other than that he stays still. Even yelling him to come over doesn’t yield anything. I walk up to him and drill my gaze into his deep brown eyes. “A dog obeys its master.” The only effect I had was quite disturbing, and that’s an understatement.

“Master? You sound the same but look a bit... different.”

I’m lost. Flight Whatever’s taken me to The Island, where fat people stay fat and polar bears shit in the woods.

“You can’t talk, you’re a dog.”

“You can’t talk, you’re a pony.”

“No.”

“You don’t feel even a little strange this morning?” I raise my hand up to eye level, as far as I can tell it still looks like a hand. I wave it in front of Hamsterjelly’s eyes.

“See this, dog? Whatever you injected wasn’t the serum.” Though I am, as they say, “tripping balls”. Hamsterjelly shook his head as if someone was playing ping-pong with a meatball.

“You didn’t get any clues from the pink aliphants?” So that’s what you call them. How could that black bastard know? Besides, I think the only clue anything pink and aliphant-shaped could possible give is a sign of going mad or watching Dumbo too many times. And I’m not close to either of those -- my logic fails me.

Still, I have an odd feeling all around me. I twiddle my fingers and my toes, they seem to be there, but I can’t test their grabbing ability since I seemingly don’t have any clothes on. I try to grasp my hair, but it’s too short. As my hand brushes over my scalp it indeed manages to cling onto something: my ears. Maybe they move around some more than they should...

“Is this some kind of sick game which lets you watch a guy touching himself like he’s just reached puberty? You can’t really talk, so this must be a mirage of sorts.” But what kind? A lucid dream’s supposed to be under my control, so not that. Hallucination seems like a viable option, being my first an’ all, but hallucinations can’t drive my car away.

“Mind is a powerful tool, and as far as we both know, yours is a prime example. Somebody’s set us up in this mental trap, y’see, and you gotta find out what and why it is.” For a dog, Hamsterjelly’s getting quite pensive. Or is it just my projection of Hamsterjelly?

This makes a lot more nonsense by the minute.

Comments

[Hivemind]

How many of these exist now?

Because I'm really getting sick of them

Also. pink elephant lol

[Sorren]

I will refrian from voting, but only for the Dumbo reference.

[Bluntwrap]

331608
Too many. I really wish the Conversion Bureau universe is shot, killed, and buried.

[Gigabyte]

What the fudge

[Hivemind]

331724

I would say the same thing for the FO:E thing. That thing is waaaaay overdone

[Sorren]

331878 In some ways yes. Basically, with FO:E. The only ones that really made it are Project horizons and Pink Eyes. Everything else is jsut side stuff.

[Microshazm]

331608
331724
332046
I disapprove of your bickering and the fact that you're missing the message of the pink aliphants by a wide margin. If you silly ponies want stuff that truly and truthfully at least attempts to -- as Sorren implied -- "make it" and not be "just side stuff", you shouldn't be looking at a story with pink aliphants and a random tag.

[Da Bunnana King]

331608
331724
332046
So wait you don't like the conversion bureau? So is their a line up some where to join this magical club?

Now to the story:
I... I just don't KNOW!!!

[RyRy]

"Some one has set us up the Mental trap" I see what you did there.

I'm not sure I'm following what is going on but it seems humorous so far so I'll track and keep reading.

[Sorren]

333071
That is not what i was saying at all, I love the conversion bureau. Just, not this story.

[Sorren]

333046 Well, i hate to be a butt here. But chances are if people arent getting something in your story, it's not thier falt. You most likely arent clarifying very well. When you write, you have to assume that the reader is like a naive puppy that will stick it's tounge into an electrical socket if it has the chance. So you have to put up means of making sure that abnoxios puppy finds its way to the "like" buttong, and not possible death(in the case, WTF-ism)

[Microshazm]

333671
Just doing a story in which I'd go and convert myself was too simple and unoriginal. "Why not make it crazy, then?" I thought. But still, what's there not to get? At first, everything seems linear, but we quickly find out the protagonist (who might be a little like yours truly) is someplace we can't call "normal" or "right". He just rolls with it for awhile, but gets doubtful and introspective after his findings on the table. Questions arise, and the protagonist gets the answers at the same rate the reader does. Of course I'm not telling everyone to like this story, but one must see it as it is and can't expect epic drama to come out of anything with pink aliphants. I may have somewhat failed the description, though, or the title.
333154 See what I did? Good, 'cause... I don't

[Midnightshadow]

...how much did you smoke? :D