The Secret Life of... Big Mac

by Dreadnought


Big Mac

As Celestia’s sun sank below the distant western hills, Big Mac wearily trudged towards the farmhouse. A hard day’s labor of applebucking and plowing left him tired and hungry. Just like yesterday... and tomorrow. A farmer’s life seemed to be one of repetition, day-after-day, watching time pass slowly. Though the seasons came and went, ponies lived and died, life continued on with very little change.

Big Mac slowly climbed the steps to the front porch, each of them creaking and groaning under his weight. Opening the screen door, the hinges let out a long, worn-out sigh. Smelling the warm scent of dinner, he headed to the bathroom where he filled the basin with clear, cold water. Washing his front hooves clean, he splashed his face. Drops of water clung to his fur, while some trickled down his broad chest. Big Mac stared at the pony in the mirror... a large red stallion with an orange mane and green eyes stared back, unblinking in an unnerving way.

Drying off, Big Mac walked to the kitchen where he found his sisters and grandmare finishing preparations for dinner. “Just in time,” greeted Applejack.

“Eeyup.”

“Ya got a letter today in the mail,” said Granny Smith, motioning to a simple white envelope sitting on the table. “It’s from a doctor.”

Turning around from the kitchen counter, Apple Bloom asked, “You ain’t sick, are ya, Big Mac?” Big Mac could sense the concern underlining her voice.

“Nnope.”

Big Mac opened the envelope and read the letter. Dr. Jenny wants to see me in Manehattan on Monday. Hmm. Two days away. Will have to leave on the Sunday train. Make arrangements to stay in a hotel. Come back on –

“Everything alright?” asked Applejack.

“Eeyup.” Sniffing the air, he noted, “Smells good.”

~~~

Big Mac trotted through the streets of Manehattan. “Hustle” and “bustle” were two words that aptly described the scene. A morning tide of ponies surged along the sidewalks, creating an abstract mosaic of all the colors of the rainbow, one that never remained still but constantly swirled and churned. What the ponies lacked in patience and harmony they made up for with determination and stamina. The broad, straight avenues of the city lay choked with traffic, filled by heavily-laden delivery wagons competing for space with simple taxis, elaborate carriages, large food trucks, and police vehicles. Overhead swarmed scores, no hundreds, of pegasi, darting about between the spires, towers and soaring skyscrapers of the city.

Big Mac slowly made his way through the mass, doing his best to remain courteous to his fellow ponies. More often than not, though, he was greeted with shouts of, “Watch where you’re going” or “Get out of my way” or “Move it!” He kept his composure, considerately stepping aside or offering a polite apology. Still, for a simple farm pony, especially one of his size, navigating the thick crowds proved an extremely difficult undertaking.

The thing that unnerved Big Mac the most was not the ponies he had to deal with, but the unnatural landscape of the city. Asphalt and concrete covered the soil and prevented anything from growing, with not even a blade of grass poking up between the cracks in the sidewalks. Nowhere could a single tree, shrub or bush be seen growing. Unnatural winds came roaring down the pony-made canyon, creating powerful swirling vortices that blew away hats and buffeted the pegasi. The very air smelt sterile, free from any scent of fresh flowers and green trees. Looking up, the big sky became constricted and small between the towering skyscrapers.

After an hour of uncomfortable travel, Big Mac reached the office of the renowned Dr. Jenny, M.D. The clinic sat among a long row of low buildings, sandwiched between an optometrist to the left and a gynecologist to the right. The simple exterior belied the complex and ground-breaking procedures conducted inside by the doctor and her experienced staff.

Walking inside, Big Mac approached the receptionist, a middle-aged pony with reading glasses perched upon the tip of her snout. “Mornin’,” he said.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“I’m here to see Dr. Jenny.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Eeyup.”

“Name?”

“MacIntosh Apple.”

Scanning her calendar, she observed, “Yes, I have you for nine o’clock. Dr. Jenny is not ready to see you yet, but you make take a seat as you wait.”

“Eeyup.”

Big Mac took up a large portion of a couch fronting the wall. In front sat a coffee table filled with magazines of all titles... Royal Geographic... Best Homes and Gardening... Newsmonth... Mare’s World... Cosmare.... He wondered which one he should read. Popular Agriculture was not among the offering.

“MacIntosh Apple?” came a voice. Looking up, Big Mac saw Dr. Jenny standing in the doorway leading to the back of the clinic. She wore a white lab coat over her blouse and skirt, and also sported simple white pearl earrings.

“Eeyup,” he said as he rose and walked towards her. “Good mornin’.”

“Good morning, Mr. Apple. If you will follow me to the back.” She led him down a corridor to an examination room. While Big Mac took a seat, she closed the door to ensure privacy for her confidential consultation. “It’s nice to see you again, how are you doing?”

“Apple crop is comin’ in nicely.”

“I will have to try some of your family’s apples.”

“Ah’ll bring some next time Ah come. And how are things for you?”

“Busy as always. I constantly see new patients and follow-ups.” A short pause ensued, as she transitioned from customary small talk to the nature of the appointment. “I’m sure you are wondering why I asked you to come in today?”

“Eeyup.”

“Well, I wanted to let you know we’ve found a donor. I can’t reveal the name, but she’s a unicorn.” Noticing a slight frown develop on her patient’s face, she explained, “You needn’t worry about the size difference. I assure you we will be able to conduct a successful operation. You could hold out for another donor, but given your stature, the odds of finding a pony of similar size is small.” She paused to allow him to process the information, before she continued, “I need to know if you want to proceed with the procedure. As you know, the waiting lists are quite long and donors are not readily available. It could be a very long time before you have another opportunity.”

Big Mac pondered her words in his usual, silent manner. “Eeyup. What’s the next step?”

“You will need four weeks of hormone therapy before we can operate. I will have your local physician perform daily injections. We will have a final appointment the day before the surgery, and you will need to stay in the city for a week for follow-up visits. I will need to see you once a month for a year to make sure there are no complications and the surgery was successful. Now for the actual surgery, does the 20th of next month work for you?”

“Eeyup.”

“Very well.”

Dr. Jenny spent the rest of the appointment providing more information, giving detailed instructions, and drawing up paperwork. Big Mac signed several releases and a formal contract for the procedure. He left the office carrying a thick brown envelope, filled with forms and instructions to prepare him for the operation.

Big Mac made his way back against the tide of ponies to his hotel, where he collected his things and checked out. Walking to the station, he arrived in time for the next train to Dodge City, with stops including Canterlot and Ponyville. Climbing aboard the passenger car, he selected a seat at the back away from other ponies, the perfect spot for thinking without much risk of interruption....

~~~

The afternoon sun had slipped below the horizon, replaced on the heavenly throne by Luna’s magnificent full moon. The pure white light lit the countryside, making it easy for a pony to see the path ahead. Big Mac slowly walked along a dark, deserted country lane towards his home. He had actually arrived some hours before on the afternoon train from Manehattan, but decided to take the long, winding route home. He needed the exercise and wanted to marvel at the scenic vistas of rolling hills, lush meadows, and rustic farms. At least that’s what he told himself. In reality, he found a reason to procrastinate. The day had finally come for him to reveal his secret to his family, but he wasn’t sure he was ready. How would they react? Happy? Hurt? Angry? Would they throw him out of the family? He simply longed for more time, to prepare his family, and himself, for the revelation.

The buildings of Sweet Apple Acres lay ahead in the distance. Inevitablity loomed. His destiny awaited. No more procrastinating. Time to be the strong, confident stallion his sisters saw him as.

Big Mac climbed up the steps to the front porch, each of them creaking under his weight. A doorknob turned and the front door opened wide, revealing Applejack. “There ya are. We were getting worriedsick.” She moved aside to allow him to enter. “Are ya hungry? We’ve got leftovers from dinner in the icebox.”

“Nnope.”

Big Mac stepped into the living room to find Granny Smith knitting while Apple Bloom read a book on potions she borrowed from Zecora. Turning to Applejack, he said, “Ya might want to sit down.”

“Uh, sure,” she replied, though new concern was building on her face.

By this point the rest of the Apples had ceased their activities and gave Big Mac their full attention as he stood in the center of the room. “Everyone, Ah have somethin’ to say.” From any other pony, this statement would have been obvious, but the usually silent stallion found it helpful to publicize when he had a big announcement. “Ah will be having a surgery in a few weeks.”

“Are ya al’right?” asked Granny Smith.

“Don’t y’all worry, this here is an elective surgery.

“What do you mean, ‘elective surgery?’” demanded Applejack, the fear and concern slowly being replaced with suspicion.

Big Mac sighed, “Ah guess, it’s time Ah come out of the closet. Ah’m not the pony ya think Ah am – Ah’m really a unicorn. And Ah’m having species reassignment surgery to become one.” He looked at the rest of his family as they sat there speechless. From the dream they all shared during the tantabus incident to the time he was caught playing Ogres & Oubliettes, Big Mac always protrayed himself as a unicorn. Really, they should have seen this coming.