• Published 2nd Jul 2012
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Oh to be Old Again - Minalkra



What happens when a middle age brony wakes up in the body of a foal? And when no one believes him?

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33 - Big Boy Toys

"Princess! Something is happening in the ritual chamber!"


Waves were lapping at half-crumbled buildings - buildings that were slowly sinking under the weight of time. Mildew and water stained walls barely holding themselves together, skyscrapers and thatch roofed homes alike falling inward and fading distantly in the shroud of grey fog that enveloped everything in mist. An amalgamation of human and pony styles.

I was dreaming - a ruined city floating on some alien ocean.

It was odd. I hadn't ever been a lucid dreamer but I knew at some level beyond the improbable scenery that I was dreaming - standing in what would have once been a grand building of impossible angles and staring out across an endless ocean of half-submerged buildings. I could feel the dampness of the air, smell the sweat-tinged salt. My hooves felt the soft bed of moss beneath me, my fingers felt the moisture. My form was fluid - I was pony and human and my mind couldn't seem to decide which was most suited.

"Bruce." A labored voice that was not-me in a place that was entirely me. I knew it was different in the same way that flying in a dream feels natural to someone without that ability. This other voice was a drop of water hitting a still pond. The dream changed as it echoed. The grey fog warped around me, turning dark and malevolent. The buildings looked less timeworn and more war scarred. Even the waters around me turned dark and foreboding. Despite this, I was not afraid. I was dreaming and nothing could hurt me there. I was calm.

"Bruce." The voice beckoned me with an urgency I couldn't place. I turned from the view and was suddenly in a plaza - an island of land enclosed by the collapsed remains of some fantastical city. I knew I hadn't moved and yet I had regardless. The sound of water lapping against the edge of an unseen shore was still there, echoing in the heavy and moist air. Though rubble encircled me, the plaza itself was remarkably clear of debris. And in the center was a dry fountain - an irony not lost on me - capped with a very odd sight. Me - human-me - atop...

"Princess Luna?"

"Bruce." The voice was coming from Princess Luna's statue and I could see the mouth struggle to move as the seawater crept up my calves. Chips of stone and dust fell as she struggled to form words through the wave of green water that surrounded us both. With a slow, grinding pace and a growing terror in my heart, the figure's head turned to look at me with wide and fearful eyes as the water swept us away. "Help. Me."


"Gotcha."


"Gnn." I woke up with a grunt of surprise. I had never woken up so quickly from a dream before and it left me dazed. My pelt was slick with sweat and seawater. I could still hear the waves lapping against the shore, still feel the moss on my hooves and the sensation of water enveloping my head. I could still see her face locked in terror through the green tint of once-still water whipped to a frenzy. I could still hear her voice. I gasped in fear.

Then I felt reality.

"Why is it so hot?" I tried to ask as I peeled the silk satin sheets off of me. Actually, it was more a combination of a grunt and a whine and I only managed to get the hot sheets off after pawing at them a few times. They were soaked with sweat. I didn't think ponies could sweat but I had plenty of evidence to the contrary now. A nice spring night had turned into a sweltering hot summer night somehow and left me panting humid air.

"Bruce!" A disheveled Rarity looked at me with eyes wide in startled shock from near the window. A shuttered lantern in her aura illuminated both her and the closed window behind her, blacking out everything beyond. She was ... a mess. Her mane hung limply with only the hint of a curl in it, her pelt was slick and I noticed a distinct lack of eyelashes. After catching her breath and me dumbly watching as my mind tried to claw its way up from sleep, she looked at me with a frown. "You startled me. What are you doing awake?"

"Hot." Simple words, the most effective way to make oneself understood. Rarity tittered and brushed a strand of semi-curled mane out of her face.

"Yes, the Weather Patrol warned that we would have a few nights of heat to help even out the temperature for summer but I wasn't expecting this." Turning back to the window and hefting herself up on the well-supported sill, she began to mutter under her breath, interspersed as it was with grunts of irritation. "The brutes, no - urgh - no appreciation for a - unf - good spring night ... aha!"

Air! Fresh, clean ... warm air. But still, air flow was good. My groggy mind had started to actually think and I sighed as the air from the now opened window washed over me. Rarity sighed as well and remained where she stood. I was content with just feeling the breeze. Then I smelled her. Sweat and the last vestiges of some flowery soap. It was not exactly nice and I think I must have had a face when she turned back around to drop to the floor.

"Oh like you smell any better." My face quickly lost its grimace and I felt my ears flip down in embarrassment. Rarity cleared her throat and looked away. "I mean - I ... I'm sorry, Bruce. I didn't mean to snap, I've just never particularly enjoyed the 'heat' part of summer."

"Me either," I mumbled. For some reason, she winced as she walked over to my bedside.

"Why are you awake? You should be asleep still." She tilted her head as she asked, her eyes curious and a bit worried. I stifled a yawn, my eyes suddenly heavy with sleep once more. Though the bedsheets were damp, the air was cooling them off quickly and I even found myself shivering a bit at the sudden temperature change.

"Bad dream." Me Bruce, you Rarity. Dark-time for sleep now. Ook.

"Oh, you poor thing." With a tug of her mouth, sheets once more covered me and I found myself fighting my own desire to drift away. She must have stuck her nose too close to me as she pulled the covers up because the face she made actually caused me to giggle. Like a school girl. Filly. Colt. Thing. "Oooh, you will need a bath in the morning, young colt."

"You too." That got her to titter once more - though another yawn drowned out sound and sight. Only sound returned as my head sank into the plush pillow.

"Well, yes I suppose I will." I felt another nuzzle and lips on my forehead once more before unconsciousness claimed me. The last things I heard were a soft 'good night' and the click of the door before I was asleep once more, sighing in time with the sounds of crickets outside.


There's a lot you can say about me. I'm panicky, I speak without thinking, I can be really dumb, and I don't quite understand others. I can be fiercely loyal, driven and caring. I generally want a calm and quiet life. Lots of things can be said about me.

'Morning person' has never nor will ever be on that list.

"Good morning Bruce!" A sudden, bright light knocked me out of a rather nice dream of human-me chasing Spring around with a tuna and I squeaked at the assault on my senses. Rarity's voice - sounding chipper than anything had any right to be this early - continued on over my whine. "It's a bright, beautiful day today and we have a great deal to do!"

I grumbled rudely into my pillow and pulled the stiff sheets over my head.

"We spoke about language last night, come on." The sheet was whipped away from me - as was the pillow after I put that over my face. Not much she can do about my hooves though. Her voice lost some of its enthusiasm. "Bruce stop being silly."

"It's too early." I was so mature. "Five more minutes."

"I'll give you ten if you promise to get right up afterwards." I grumbled my acceptance of those terms ... and then shot straight up, almost bonking my head on Rarity's too-close face.

"What, really?" I received a blink of surprise from Rarity at my sudden wakefulness. Semi-wakefulness. It was still way too bright to be a proper person's time to be awake. We blinked at each other a few times - her in surprise and me in a hissing, squinting dislike of sunlight - before she nodded.

"Of course. It is a bit early after that dreadful night but I wasn't lying when I said we had a great deal to do." She shrugged off my incredulous look with a smile. "It's not as if ten minutes will destroy our schedule."

I continued to watch her as she tried to ignore my eyes and instead busied herself with folding the sheet still held in her aura. I broke the silence with a croak, a cough and - finally - speech. "So, you're not going to immediately rush me out to have a 'normal' foal's day or anything? No 'must-go-to' parties? No attempts at making me act like a normal colt?"

"I - I wasn't planning on it, no. Just some purchases to make this room more your own."

"Miss Rarity, with news like that I think I can face the day a bit early." I yawned again, put one hoof over the edge of the bed and -

"Here, let me help." - found Rarity's hooves lowering me down the side. No face-plant, no aches, no gravity-assisted dismount. I was on four hooves and on the floor. Rarity began to walk out of the room, turning when she reached the door and smiling at my confused face. "Coming Bruce?"


Rarity's bathroom wasn't actually very impressive. Other than the high degree of ornamentation, it was pretty standard. A small pedestal sink next to a vanity, a large number of glass-faced cabinets filled with colorful bottles adorned the white tile walls and a half wall cut off a portion of the area - probably where the toilet was. Overall, pretty standard.

Except for the massive pool-tub that took up a good two-thirds of the space.

"Every day must start with a refreshing and cleansing bath," Rarity said. She must have drawn the bath before trying to wake me as the room was filled with aromatic steam when we entered. She checked the temperature of the water with her hoof and levitated a set of towels down from one of the cabinets. "A clean body is a clean mind."

"You haven't met me yet, have you?" I ignored Rarity's deadpanned look and hefted myself up against the tub to look inside. "Rarity?"

"Yes Bruce?"

"Why are there flower petals in the water?" Little white petals floated on the surface of the water, lazily twisting in the eddies. I caught a flowery scent that I couldn't place.

"Well, they help perfume the water." Rarity joined me on the tub edge, crossing her arms as we watched the petals dance. "And lilies are commonly seen as a symbol of purity, of cleanliness, so there is that as well. Supposedly unicorn separatists used them to indicate safe havens for strikes against the Triumvirate Union before the rule of the Two Sisters but that has faded to a dim memory."

She smiled at me, nudging me with her shoulder.

"Not that any of that nonsense matters. In you go."


"Argh, it's in my eyes!" I scrubbed at my burning (huge, massive eye plates) eyes with one hoof while trying to keep my head above water. I was mostly successful. I heard Rarity's exasperated sigh over the splashing of water and my own whimpering.

"Bruce, stop thrashing this instant and let me help you." Hooves guided me blindly to the edge of the tub where I clung for dear life as water was poured over my face. And my muzzle. And into my mouth. "Honestly. You make the most mundane of things into massive, drama-filled fiascoes."

"Bleugh, soap still tastes awful."

"Undoubtedly." I blinked my vision clear and gave Rarity a sheepish smile. She sighed and used a conveniently placed pitcher to dump water all over me again. "This is why most ponies bathe together or have assistance from older family members, dear. Hooves are not well-suited to scrubbing and no matter what the bottle says, soap doesn't taste like bubblegum."

"Learn that the hard way?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I grimaced. Blinking my eyes clear of water, I noticed Rarity's unamused look. "Sorry."

"Mmm," Rarity hummed and levitated a bottle of some flowery smelling substance over to the pair of us. Hooves began to gently massage my mane and I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the feeling. Hooves aren't the best for scrubbing in those delicate areas but they worked surprisingly well in a general sort of manner. And while hoof soap was alright for hooves, I learned rapidly via Rarity-gasps that it was 'never to be used on pelts.' I swear, it was like I'd murdered a kitten in front of her.

"Rar-Miss Rarity." I sighed as she began working my neck. "I want to, well, thank you."

"Whatever for Bruce?"

"Well, I know I'm not a great per-pony - ah!" I cracked one eye opened and pointed at her with a hoof as she opened her mouth to protest. "I know I'm not. But you took me in and, well, I'd like to make this last chance of mine work out until I can get in touch with the Princess and get home."

I closed my eyes again and Rarity hesitantly resumed her scrubbing. And then I felt absolutely awful.

"Er, sorry."

"Bruce?" This time, it was more confused than curious.

"For ... being such a jerk. I don't mean to be but I-"

"Bruce, hush." I felt her hoof 'bop' my nose and my eyes popped open to see a smirking Rarity-face with a wet mane and soap suds all over her hooves. "So far, this hasn't been half as awful as Spring led me to believe. Yes, you can be somewhat rude but you're a child. Ah!" She pointed a hoof at me as I opened my mouth to speak. Her smirk grew into a smile as my mouth closed.

"You are and frankly, you've been fairly calm so far." She went back to scrubbing me and I looked away with a frown.

"Well, I think the culture shock has pretty much worn off-AH!" We both jumped at my shout - though I had significantly less traction under my hooves and ended up neck-deep in soapy water.

"Bruce! Oh my, are you alright?" Rarity's head crested the tub-edge, her face full of worry.

"Miss Rarity, please let me wash that particular body part." I felt some satisfaction at the blush.

"I'm terribly sorry, dear. I - I was washing you like I would have Sweetie Belle and I -"

"It's fine," I said, cutting her off and pulling myself to my hooves. "I wasn't expecting bathing to be that intimate between males and females."

Her blush deepened. My slight grimace of discomfort changed to a rather deadpanned expression. "It's not, is it?"

"I'm so sorry, Bruce. I wasn't thinking." Her ears flipped down and she looked away. Embarrassment, nervousness - regret. And now I felt bad. I sighed and propped myself back on the edge of the tub, nudging her with my shoulder.

"Let's just - pretend that never happened, hmm?" I asked. The way her head whipped around, you'd think she was expecting screamed obscenities. To be honest, I felt the urge but I have some self control.


"Ugh, other than bacon or steak or fried fish - or frankly any sort of meat - is there anything sensible you would like for breakfast?" I grinned at the pale-er looking Rarity.

"Do you have blood sausage?" Rarity's face turned green. Hey, I only have some self control. "I'm kidding, Miss Rarity! Whatever is fine with you is fine with me."

As the quietly gagging Rarity set about making breakfast, I gave the room a good once-over. A rather simple room with wooden cabinets, a gas stove and a small table tucked away in a corner. A nice, pleasant and homey kitchen. A strange contrast to the drama queen looking in her cupboards with a queasy grimace.

Maybe I overdid it. Just a little.

Eventually, two bowls of dry cereal and a carafe of milk were set on the table and an unhappy Rarity settled in to eat. With my own grimace, I joined her and we sat in silence as I kicked myself for letting my mouth run away from me again.


"Rarity, no means no. End of discussion." I crossed my arms and gave Rarity the most grim and serious expression I possibly could. Based on the silence, I don't think it worked but I tried. An atrocious green vest-thing with far too much white lace floated just outside my reach - I tried jumping for it but she just moved it enough to taunt - as Rarity glanced between me and it with a critical eye. Needles, thread and a few gaudy gems hovered nearby as Rarity pursed her lips in thought. My hard expression slowly changed to one of worry as a few of the more obnoxious jewels were incorporated into the ensemble. "Rarity ... I am not wea-"

"Blood. Sausage." Two words spoken in the kind of tone one would use conversing with a friend. She didn't even blink, her attention fixed on adjusting the hem of the green vest-thing. I did though. I blinked a lot.

"Uh, I'm sor-"

"Bacon."

"Rari-"

"Veal - and you were right, I shouldn't have asked."

I bit my lip, my eyes darting between the vest and Rarity's face. While she didn't seem upset at first glance, I saw a slight creasing near her eyes and the smallest bit of a frown as she worked on getting the vest just right. Yup, took it too far.

"C-can I have just a bit less lace?"


"And after we get your room situated, you just must let me fit you for a proper outfit." Rarity and I walked down one of the larger streets of Ponyville with saddlebags weighed down with enough 'sundries' - as Rarity put it - to last me the rest of my life. Pictures that I glanced at, more than enough lamps for me to 'to figure out my style', four sets of bed sheets, orders for furniture - a whole list of just stuff.

I huffed in a non-committal manner. I was a bit sore from all the walking, the saddlebags weren't fitted right for me and the 'slightly-more' lacy vest was itchy as hell. At least Rarity was in a better mood since she slipped the frilly thing over my head. Petty revenge - but I deserved it.

Of course, now that she was in a better mood she seemed to have opened up a bit around me. By that I mean she talked. Non-stop. It was like a more polite Pinkie Pie at times - but instead of just introducing ponies, she would list some gossip about them in her tittering and slightly nasally voice that just started to get on my last nerve. I learned that Carrot Top had tried to court Big Mac years ago and was thinking about doing so again, Davenport's herd was looking forward to another foal - maybe even a colt, 'wouldn't that be lovely' - and had to expand their compound, some mare I've never even seen before was in hot water with her herd for trying to bring another male into the relationship without asking the current stallion yet, there was some tiff about Mayor Mare and Filthy Rich's 'extra-herd affair' ... it just went on and on and on.

And then it stopped. In the middle of a word, even.

"And that is Great Gavel, the stories I could tell you abou- ah, here we are." Rarity had brought us to a stop in front of a ... toy store. I could tell because there were toys in the window and I've seen quite a few toy shops in my time. The brightly colored storefront tried desperately to gain my attention but since the words were in some kind of Dwarven runic-script, the affect was lost on me. Probably pegasi. Pegasusian. Pegacorn Onda- and I was alone. Before my mind could even shift from 'in one ear, out the other' she had trotted straight into the store without a care in the world.

I was alone for a moment without the near constant stream of inane, stupid, nervous ... gossip ... I facehooved.

"Ah, that's what happens when Rarity gets nervous. I see." And then I started rubbing my forehead where keratin met flesh. "Ow."

A few steps later and ... toys.

Toys everywhere. And not the good types with sounds and electronics but crappy ones. Pull ducks, trains, hula hoops sold as 'loopty hoops'. Blocks and balls and baby dolls. Oh man, the dolls - dolls as far as the eye could see and in colors not meant to be seen. From white to black and everything in between. More shades of fuchsia than I'd like to see. And their dead eyes kept staring at me.

Brain, stop trying to rhyme. I am not starting one of those dance numbers in the toy store.

But the colors didn't stop at the dolls. That would be too easy. The assault on the eyes couldn't stop at the toys, oh no. The shelves were painted all shades of the rainbow, the floor was composed of whirls of contrasting colors, the walls were each a different 'happy scene' of impossible things and the ceiling ... was painted with the happiest and smuggest sun I'd ever seen. Shaped vaguely like Celestia's head.

"Dude, that's creepy." My mouth worked without my conscious input but so far we were on the same page.

The lack of electronics didn't lessen the noise though. Clicks and clacks of wooden wheels and strange active contraptions that I wouldn't be caught dead with. And the foals. Screaming, wailing foals everywhere. Running down the aisles, partially climbing the shelves, grabbing this or that from where they could reach. And yet despite the mayhem, the store was remarkably clean. I noticed as I stood there with an expression a dying fish would be proud of that after a foal stopped trying one of the toys out, back on the shelf it went. The lower shelves had worn out 'try me' toys while the upper ones were in pristine condition. And while the screaming was grating, it had a happy undertone with only a few whines of denied ownership intermixed in. It was unnatural.

"Dude, that's creepy too." At least we're communicating brain!

"Bruce, there you are! I thought you were right behind me." Rarity was slightly off to the side of the entrance way and she looked awfully relieved. Of course, losing her foster child probably sent an ice pick of terror through her heart. I gave her a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, I was - ah - stunned by the decor." She blinked at me. "The colors?" Blink. "Bright, clashing colors every-frickin'-where?"

"Oh!" As if by chance, my words had sunk in. She looked around a bit, blinking still as if seeing the interior of the store for the first time. She scrunched her nose up as the garish colors finally registered in her mind. From the mouths of foals and all ... "Well, I suppose the colors are a bit bright but so much better to draw young eyes, Bruce."

I sighed and my hoof leapt to my face before I could stop it. Ow. "I know why they're there, Rarity. It was a severe shock to my eyes to step into Willy Wonka's Garden of Earthly Delights."

"Did somepony say my name?" A nasally, masculine voice beside me piped up. I dared not remove my hoof for fear of having to put it right back where it was.

"... seriously?" With a sigh and not much hope for the future, I took my hoof off my face and turned. There was a stallion, yes. A young Gene Wilder-in-pony form. And a purple suit - complete with brown felt top hat. So of course, I said the first thing that came to mind. "Oompa-loompa-doompity-doo ..."

Young Gene Wilder-pony turned to Rarity with a soft expression. "The poor dear's a bit touched in the head, is he?"

"Hey, I'm right here you know."

Author's Note:

Genjen, editor.

I forgot what I was going to put in here ... something about the dream sequence. Bah, it's been too long since I started this I can't remember now.

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