I sat there - toying with that empty glass - for a good ten minutes. Man, I was still plenty dehydrated if my dry lips were any indication. That one little glass did nothing but remind me how much my body craved water. Soap-torture and a hangover sure do work up a thirst. To pass the time, I tried to figure out what exactly I looked like. Even though I was lacking a mirror - or any reflective surface for that matter - I still managed to get a decent idea of my new look in that amount of time. Light blue coat, dark blue mane and tail. No cutie mark. No surprise. And, yes, my eyes were creepy-huge too.
I had been getting bored and was wondering if I should re-enact that scene from Marvel's Thor flick where that Norse God of Olde threw his coffee cup to the floor like it was a mug. I heard it gets you noticed pretty dang quick. Thrown out usually but, hey, at least they noticed! About the time I was tossing the cup in my improbable grip to get a feel for the weight of it was when the doctor finally showed up.
"So, the little mystery colt is awake, hmm?" Doctors. I hate them. Not them personally, that's a profession you have to WANT to do. Nice people. But my god, can you get any more obtuse? Hey, I didn't go to medical school for a decade. I have no idea what a lipid is or why it would be bad. Oh, you're just going to ignore my question? Ok, thanks doc. Sorry, little rant there.
"Uhm, I guess? You mean me, right?" This doctor was straight from a Doctor's Convention where he gave a presentation on How To Look Doctor-like. Lab coat (WHY?! It's not like you can use pockets or it was covering anything. I could see his cutie mark plain as day!), stethoscope, glasses. Even his coat was a boring-old brown. The only thing really un-doctor like was his hair. Wow. That hair. I've heard of 'muffin tops' but only in relation to fat people in far-too-small clothing. I couldn't help but stare. At least it kept my eyes away from his weird mug. And it was so orange.
"Ahem, yes, well. 'Bruce' was it? That sounds Asinus to me." I don't think I was supposed to hear what he was saying as he flipped through what I could only assume were my medical OH MY GOD HIS FACE! And I thought the mares were creepy-tastic. His snout was more square and that lent his whole head this almost mechanical shape that upped the weirdness to a level far above normal bounds. The fact all his mane was piled in a muffin shape on top of his skull did not help. Nightmare fuel. Distracted as I was by the sheer strange that was presented to me, I sorta stopped paying attention to where I was. Well, without my mind watching it, my mouth has a tendency to run off into places that turn out hard for me to wiggle out of. This time was no different.
"What'd you call my mom?" It's a defense mechanism! Every time something hard to deal with comes up, I start trying to be funny and sarcastic. Failing miserably but trying nonetheless. That way I don't have to deal with whatever it is that's making me nervous and I can pretend it's all a gigantic joke. Like life only less horrible. Unfortunately, I don't think the doctor was in on this one.
"Huh? I didn't ... is there something wrong with donkeys?" The way he looked at me made me feel half my size. And I was already half my original size if my estimations were right, so that was even worse.
"Uhm, that - that was supposed to be funny," I managed to squeak out. His huge eyes bore into me, seared straight into my soul. I distantly heard a sound, as if millions of voices cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. Or maybe that was my child-like whimpering. Whatever it was, the doctor's glare slowly melted into one of concern. At least, I think it was concern. Maybe he had a big lunch.
"We don't joke like that around here, dear. Every sapient under Celestia's sun is worthy of life and respect. Specists make poor friends." … really? Specist? Well that proved one theory wrong: ponies are not all loving and all embracing. Well, maybe they are now. They weren't at some point in time and long enough to have a word for that. He reached out to pat my head but, so horrified at everything, I shrank away. Those eyes, those terrible monstrous eyes. "Hey now, nopony's going to hurt you."
"Uh huh." I was still a bit shocked, if you couldn't tell. From cracking whip-quick wit one second to facing down the Elder Ones. Or reciting jokes older than my grandma and cowering for my life. Either/or. With a frown, he placed his little clipboard aside and leveraged himself up on the side of my bed. His face leering over me, consuming my soul … ok, I'll stop with the creepy face comments. I was still fairly shocked at this whole turn of events so any weirdness was probably being blown out of proportion, right?
As the doctor mumbled things to himself, 'amnesia' and 'mental trauma' being the two of note, I slowly gathered my wits; all two of them. It was time to come clean, it was time to tell them the truth. It was time to out myself as what amounts to a grey alien to the ponies of Equestria. I took a deep breath and -
"Lunch time!" - immediately snapped my jaw shut as a pink and oh-so-bubbly mare nurse pranced in with a steaming tray precariously balanced on her back. If my stomach's complaints were of any indication, it was far past time for some food. The doctor, still mumbling things to himself, heaved his bulk off the bedside and stepped to the sidelines. I noticed that he grabbed his clipboard with one hoof and was three-legging it all the way. Ponies may be friggin' weird but man I was starving. While bacon was out of the question, I wondered if they ate eggs regularly or if that was just - wait, ponies. Food. Oh no. No. Please don't let it be -
"Voila! Hayfries, a nice thick hayshake and some haycakes!" - a steaming pile of dried grass. The nurse, balanced on her hind hooves, scooted the tray under my confused and, admittedly, rather aghast eyes. "I know how you young foals love your yum yummy hayfries! Just don't eat too fast, you'll get a tummy ache."
She rustled my hai - er mane with one of her hooves, gave me the biggest and, strangely, least creepy smile I'd gotten that day and sat back with a smug self-satisfied look that wouldn't seem out of place on a cat staring at a cornered mouse. Or maybe that was just how it seemed at the time.
"I really need a smoke." Their horrified looks confused me for all of half a second before I remembered where I was and what I looked like. Oh no. No. "Noooooo!" My scream of horror and craving echoed off the bleak, uncaring walls. I think I heard a dog howling in response in the far distance. Or maybe it was that crazy barking mare.