//------------------------------//
// Four Spanners in the Works 
// Story: Welcome to Batstralia 
// by Damaged 
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Language check. All in English.



Mike woke up slowly. The date with Rose the previous evening had started rocky, but gone quite well after that. He contemplated the ceiling of his bedroom for long enough to realize it was a school-day.

Warm beds were evil, and wonderful. Mike stayed under the covers, going over the events of the previous day in his head. Things had seemed bleak until Rose had admitted she was changing too. He pondered the thought of a girlfriend who was a pony. Not having breasts would suck. His last girlfriend had let him play with her so long as adults weren't around, and no matter what he had done it had never gotten old. 

His memory tripped, and rather than Stacy, he imagined Rosetta's breasts in his hands. A smile pulled at his lips, and though he knew they were shrinking, Rose still had an impressive set for a girl her age. Reaching down, he started to wrap his hand around himself when the dream shattered.

"What the fuck?!" Mike yanked his hand up from his groin and stared at it. To his horror his hand—hands when he quickly jerked the other up—were deformed. His thumb and pinkie had shrunk a little. His middle, index, and ring fingers, in contrast, were sort of stuck together. Staring at it, he could see the fingernails of the three joined fingers had melded into one big, flat shape.

Only one word came to mind when he looked at his hands: hoof. "MUM!" His yell likely woke the whole town, but Mike didn't care. His thoughts quickly shifted gear and he was yanking up his leg with those misshapen hands, finding his foot to be similarly twisted of form.

The door banged open, and Joyce rushed in. "Mike? What are you yelling ab—" She stopped with the question when the answer became obvious. "Oh boy…"

Mike opened his mouth to complain, but was wrapped in his mother's arms and hugged tightly. There was almost nothing better for calming down than a hug from his mum, and this one was no exception.

"Bubble bath in twenty minutes. Stay in bed, Michael, no school for you today." Joyce kissed Mike on the forehead, which turned out to be an odd thing for both of them. "Mike, you wait there. I'll get a mirror."

Reaching up, Mike felt the bump on his forehead with his pseudo-hand. His heart racing, all thoughts of his hooves, of possibly turning into a mare, faded. "I'm turning into a unicorn?" Elation grew, and Mike almost bounced in his bed. "Mum! I'm turning into a unicorn!"

"A unicorn?" Misty poked her head in Mike's room, obviously having just woken up. She blinked a few times to make sense of the human laying in bed before a wide grin covered her face. "A unicorn? You are going to be able to do magic!"

Tilting his head forward, Mike let Misty reach a wing up and feel the bump again. "It is going to be so awesome! When I visited Canterlot, there was all kinds of awesome magic, and…" His excitement trailed off as something even more amazing came back to him. "She offered me a place at her school…" 

"What?" Misty, still examining Mike's budding horn, gave it a bit of a poke.

"Princess Celestia. She said if I wanted to, I could go to her school. That… that would mean I get to be a unicorn and learn magic in the best school in Equestria!" Climbing from the bed, Mike was ready to start running in his pajamas, but stumbled the moment he tried to walk on the floor. The changes to his feet were just enough to put him off balance, and so Mike began to fall.

Jumping under the toppling human, Misty saved Mike from introducing his face to the floor. "Mike! What happened to your feet? And look at your hands too! And your fur!"

The last bit stole the shock of tripping and Mike stared at his hands. Soft aquamarine fur covered them, a fact he hadn't noticed in his earlier panic. Reaching his melded fingers up, he felt at his neck; the fur was all the way up to Mike's jaw now. "Huh…" 

"Can… Can you get off me now?" Misty was still holding Mike's mass up, and despite his changes so far, he wasn't getting too much smaller.

The reality of his limbs being just strange enough that he couldn't stand easily hit him, and Mike actually shook a little. "I… I don't think I can. Mum!" It stung a lot to not be able to put his weight on his legs. All his life Mike had been fit, healthy, and it had only been the prospect of magic that cushioned him from the shock of realizing he was, for the moment, crippled.

"Honey-dove." Joyce bustled into the room and reached down to Mike. Hauling him up with a strength that surprised both of them, she lifted Mike to his bed. "Just scoot down in there again. I will get some crutches… or something."

"Mum?" Mike stared up at his mother, but she seemed otherwise focused. 

"Robin! Get your fluffy tail into the bathroom, now!" Walking to the doorway, Joyce gestured down the hall.

A little more agitated, Mike's eyes were locked on his mother. "Mum!"

"But Mum!" Robin's sleepy voice came from the hallway. "Mike is meant to go first so I can sleep in!"

"I don't care. Mike is having the day off school, so you need to get ready." The insistent voice of her son finally got her attention, and Joyce started to turn around. "What's wrong, Mike?"

However, just as Mike opened his mouth to point out that his mother had grown a pair of dark-furred ears atop her head, his little sister blurted it out. "Mum! You have bat pony ears!" Robin started bouncing up and down in excitement.

"So do you." Leveling a wing primary at Robin, Misty cracked a grin.

"Yeah." Mike looked at his crazy, mixed up family, but his attention was now solidly on Misty. "But so do you, Misty."

Mike, Misty, Joyce, and Robin all stared at each other silently. None made a sound until Candela poked her head in the door beside Robin. "What is going on in here?"

"Mum, Robin, and Misty are all turning into bat ponies too." Mike was blunt, possibly to a fault, but he was still in too much shock to consider feelings. "And I have these… and this…" He gestured to his hands and forehead, respectively.

Candela was caught. She looked between Mike and Misty, and opted to find a spot between them. She focused her attention on Misty first. "I didn't expect this in you." Turning to Mike, she smiled. "But this is definitely showing something, but I am not entirely sure what."

"Okay." Joyce was too caught up in the problem to be worried about her children, lest one of them cry out again. "So this bat pony thing is entirely new?" Candela nodded to her. "But Mike and Steve are becoming normal, Equestrian ponies?" More nods. "The only thing different about them is they got their cutie marks in Equestria."

"So Equestrian cutie mark means Equestrian pony." In a way, Mike was thankful for the discussion; he didn't have to think on his problems. "So then Candela won't change, but Misty will." He pointed to the ponies in question. "Right, Mum?"

"And you don't want to go to medical school?" Joyce reached out to tousle Mike's hair, and then caught an ear for a brief rub. "But yes. Okay, so if we are changing even this far away, that means either the effect is cumulative, or it is getting stronger."

"If it were cumulative, then Robin wouldn't have changed back." Candela had a wing spread around Misty's withers, and had the filly pulled tight against her side. She leaned in and pressed her snout to Misty's ear, but didn't try to hide her voice. "You could go back to Equestria, and then—"

"They are my family, Mum." Misty jerked her head up and nuzzled under her mother's chin. "If they have to be bat ponies, it wouldn't be fair for me to just up and decide. All for one, friendship, and all that." 

Joyce tapped her chin a moment, then turned to her daughter. "Robin, do you have a—"

"No Mum, no cutie mark yet." Rolling her eyes, Robin stepped into the room and hugged her mother. "I promised I would write everything in the journal."

"So we understand how this is happening?" Looking at his strange fingers, Mike flexed them while talking. "Or at least what will happen to some people, and why it doesn't happen another way?" Lifting his head up, Mike got nods from his family. He couldn't stop his smile from growing bigger and bigger as he realized they were all one big family.

"That we do." Joyce tapped Robin on the shoulder. "Bathroom, now."

"I'm going to be a bat pony!" Running from the room, her arms spread as far as she could, Robin raced for the bathroom.

Mike tilted his head while he looked up at his mother. "Mum, can you lean down here for a second?"

"Huh?" Off balance, Joyce complied with her son's request, leaning towards him. Expecting him to whisper something, she angled one of her big ears forward and towards him.

Reaching up, even with his slightly stiff, combined fingers, Mike took hold of his mother's ear and started to rub it slowly. "Payback…" He just grinned at her relaxed, dopey look. "Sweet, sweet payback."

Joyce blinked a few times, clearly pulling her mind out of the happy fog that a good ear-rubbing precipitated. The room was almost empty, and with Mike walking out in his bathrobe she was alone.

Herding all his family out of his bedroom had given Mike the chance to practice standing on the odd not-heels he had now. He wobbled, stumbled, but though he wasn't completely steady, he could at least walk. "If you're not done in the bathroom…"

"I am!" Robin pushed her way out of the bathroom door. "But Misty's still in there. Candela too!" 

"Ugh…" Mike made his way down to the kitchen with only a few wobbles. "Guess I will start making breakfast." Tossing his mane, he squinted around the room to assess what he could make. "Pancakes would take too long, toast would be a good idea…" A quick check of the fridge and he grinned. "Bats live on sugar, so cinnamon toast it is!"

Looking down at his misshapen fingers, Mike knew this was going to be a challenge. A loaf of bread was set on the bench, and he fired up the oven. Whistling a tune, he pulled a hunk of butter from the fridge and started softening it with a quick trip to the microwave.

"You sound a bit better." Joyce slumped into a chair. "Whatcha making?" One of her arms reached up feebly, gesturing at the kettle. "I regret sitting down…"

"Cinnamon toast. Full of the energy a growing bat needs to grow up big and strong!" Though he might have been having the oddest morning of his life, Mike still had plenty of sass. "Tea or coffee?"

Groaning at the joke, Joyce waved the hand at the kettle some more. "Coffee. Hot as hell, black as death, sweet as love…"

"Yes, Zombie Lord!" Mike snapped a terrible salute (made worse by his hands' condition) and fumbled to get water into the kettle. A sharp, staccato knocking on the front door stole Mike's attention. As he turned to answer it, he almost tripped over his legs. 

Joyce lifted a hand to brace on the chair while used her other one to restrain Mike. "I'll get it. You keep making breakfast."

"Thanks, Mum." Getting back to his task, Mike plucked the softened butter from the microwave and started mixing sugar and cinnamon into it. He was just about to start whistling again when a pink snout pushed under one arm and knocked him off balance. 

A strong, soft set of forelegs wrapped around Mike's waist and stopped his fall. Though Maud was only half his size, she caught him easily. "Are you alright?" Her soft tone was barely colored by emotion, but the feeling it did have was worry. "What happened to your hands?"

"Well, a great wizard saw that I had a pony tail and mane, and decided I should have hooves, too." Fishing for a smile from Maud, Mike got the slightest of nods from her. His joking attitude fled as he focused on his friend. "It's just getting worse. I can't balance so well, and somepony decided to knock me over."

Pinkie, at the exact moment Maud and Mike looked at her, was extending her tongue to scoop up the butter, sugar, and nutmeg mix. Pulling back moments before she made contact, she narrowed her eyes at Mike. "It sounds like you need a 'So you are becoming a pony and can't walk right so need cheering up' party!"

The raw enthusiasm in Pinkie's eyes was impossible to fight against. "Yeah ok—" He blinked as only a cloud of pink dust, vaguely in the shape of a pony, was actually where the mare had been. "How did she do that? And just where did she go?"

"You just agreed to letting her throw a party for you." Maud looked levelly at Mike, still holding him. "Happiness and celebration is her special talent, and it is what her cutie mark is all about." 

Mike was acutely aware of being in Maud's grip, and though he didn't think she thought of him as a potential boyfriend, he had a girlfriend. "Oh… I should get back to making breakfast." There was a moment when Maud seemed prepared to hold him longer, but reaching up, she put him back on his feet.

"What are you making? It smells good." Maud leaned her head up and to the edge of the bench—not unlike her sister—and looked at the butter Mike was preparing.

"My own special cinnamon toast recipe!" Mike struggled with the last ingredient. Fighting with the small bottle of vanilla, he started to lose his temper with it. 

"Here." Maud reached out with a hoof and took the little bottle. With her teeth applied to the lid, she twisted her head and loosened it. "It will get easier when your hooves are done. And when your horn grows you will have your own magic to do it."

Reminded of what was in store for him, Mike shattered his annoyance at the little bottle with his dreams. "Magic…" His tone was wistful, like you imagined people talking in dreams. With shaking hands, he measured two teaspoons of vanilla into the mix and passed the bottle back to Maud. "Can you put the lid back on?"

While Maud took care of the bottle and lid, Mike started pulling out slices of bread. Buttering each liberally, he found his odd fingers growing more familiar—if not actually being easier to use. "Now into the grill…"

"Here." Maud passed the little bottle to Mike again, now with the lid fastened.

With the first nine slices of bread under the oven grill, Mike began buttering nine more. "Mum said I can have the week off school."

"Day." Joyce's voice cut in quickly.

"Worth a try." Mike reached and flicked the kettle off as it started whistling. "Candela will bring me some homework back, I am sure." Just as he finished, a loud screech sounded, announcing that Tufts had been woken too.

Still without her coffee, Joyce stumbled into the kitchen and over to the bat's cage. "They were too loud for you too, huh?" She flipped back the covering on his cage and opened the front of it. The bat immediately reached out with his wings, and latched on to Joyce. Transferring his legs over, Tufts took up his spot hanging from Joyce's shoulder. "Some fruit?" Her question got another loud kee from the bat.

"What's for breakfast?" Stomping into the kitchen with her school shoes on, Robin dropped into the chair her mother had vacated moments before.

"You all have pony ears now?" Maud's eyes missed little about the family, flicking quickly from the top of one head to another.

Mike didn't answer his sister, not until he slid a plate with two slices of cinnamon toast in front of her. "Yeah, although Mum, Spud, and Flaps—"

"Flaps?" Misty Rainfall walked into the kitchen. "Is that all I am n…" She trailed off as another plate was passed to her. 

"Yes. You have flappies, so you are Flaps." Mike ruffled Misty's mane a little with his hand. "As I was saying, all of them are getting bat-like ears, but I have normal pony ones." Next target was his mum, she got a plate with three on it. The last plate was offered to Maud.

Picking up a slice of the toast, Maud nibbled at a corner before flaring her eyes wide for a moment. "Mmm." More toast followed the nibble.

Mike was contented for a moment, with most of his family and a friend munching away on his cooking. Of course, such calm moments were not to last. Letting out a loud keeing roar, Tufts launched himself across the room at Mike.

"Hey, you want something?" Mike held up his arm for Tufts to land on. "Come on, I think there was some bananas left. I guess all this," he swept one arm over his sister's head, gently brushing Robin's tufted ears, "should have been obvious, what with the amount of fruit everyone was suddenly eating." The fridge was close, and Mike was already hunting for the treat.

Tufts' next screech was cut off mid "eee" by a peeled banana. Lunging his head forward, he chomped off the end of it and started chewing. 

"More." Mike didn't inflect the word like a question, instead just holding the banana closer to Tufts, letting the bat take another bite. Setting the banana on the bench, Mike went back to work and put the next batch of toast in the oven.

Wandering into the kitchen, Candela smiled around the table. "I take it Tufts has been fed, given his screech and sudden silence?" Tufts himself turned to face Candela, as if he fully understood her words. His cheeks bulging, the bat adjusted his stance on Mike's arm.

"Naturally." Checking on the next batch of toast, Mike found it not quite ready. "Almost done. Would you like a cuppa?" Mike reached out to the kettle, only discovering not quite enough water for another cup. Taking it to the sink, he stumbled a little but didn't fall this time.

"Just my thermos, please. Thank you, Mike." Candela inspected some of the toast on Joyce's plate. "What is this? It smells amazing!"

"This is cinnamon toast." Taking his chances, Mike lifted out the second batch of toast from the oven, and was happy to see the sugar on top had caramelized and mixed up beautifully. Taking two slices for himself, he popped three on Candela's plate, and put the remaining four on a plate in the middle of the breakfast table. 

"How are your fingers?" Holding up the toast, Candela looked the little triangle of toast up and down before taking a bite. "Mmm! This is really good, Mike." Closing her eyes, Candela enjoyed the simple breakfast. "Still need a bubble bath?"

"Yeah." Mike stretched and had to grab at the bench for support. "Some moments everything seems normal, and then I try to take a step, or pick something up."

"A nice long soak should help." Joyce was out of toast, but after having three slices she wasn't reaching for any of the extra pieces. "Once you are out, we are going to go back over everything. Absolutely everything."

"I guessed that." Mike walked over to fetch Candela's thermos and brought it back to the kettle to fill.

Candela nodded her thanks when Mike returned her thermos full of boiling water. "Thank you, dear. Come on girls, let's go to school."

Leaning out of the way, Mike waved to Maud, Misty, Robin, and Candela. "Guess it is just us again, Mum." At that moment, of course, Tufts made sure that both of them knew he was there too. The bat ejected his "spat" of chewed up banana from the corner of his mouth and let loose a loud kee.

"I got it." Moving fast, Joyce unrolled some paper towel they kept on hand for just such occasions. 

"Thanks. As for you, you need to learn better aim. I could have held you over the sink to get rid of that." Mike shook one massed finger at the bat, admonishing him for his actions. Reaching for where he had put the banana, Mike found it gone. "Damn it Robin!"

"What's the matter?" Joyce stood up, the pulpy ball of banana making its way to the bin.

Giving the bat a rub on the cheeks, Mike shook his head. "I had been feeding Tufts a banana, and he got about a third of it."

"I know he had a banana, sweetie." Rolling her eyes, Joyce gestured to the floor where she had picked up the mess.

"Mum…" Mike groaned. "Anyway, I left the banana on the counter, and I only know of one bat-eared, mostly human girl in this family that would take it."

" 'This family'?" Joyce sat back down and smiled at Mike. "Don't worry. I think of them like that too. Misty has grown so much since she first got here, and I can hear Candela's sharp inflections creeping into both of your voices."

"Really?" A little surprised, Mike had to ponder the thought of getting an Equestrian accent from his teacher. Then another thought hit him. "Wait, so if Misty is my little sister, what is Candela?"

Joyce laughed at her son's confusion. "I didn't say it fit perfectly." She reached for her coffee and had the last mouthful from her cup. "Are you ready for an exam, or do you want to relax some more?"

"Exam first, then bath. Once I am in that tub, I am not coming out until lunchtime." Mike balanced on his changed feet as best he could, and made his way slowly into the living room. One hand kept rubbing at Tufts, but try as Mike might he couldn't work out if it was to make the bat feel better or him.

Finding a seat on the couch, Mike focused his attention on Tufts while Joyce got her things. "I don't get it, Tufts. Why me? What are the odds of moving to this little town, into this house, and winding up having… this?" Mike's question, however, didn't even seem to warrant a sound from the bat—although it could have just been Tufts was content with the attention.

"This is going to be an invasive check, if you are okay with that honey." Joyce set her doctor bag on the floor before her own chair, and grabbed the notebook from under her arm. "And after it you get to help me. I need a log book too, now, and I can't measure those things,"—she rolled her eyes upwards—"without help."

"You tried, didn't you?" Mike grinned at the thought and reached one arm out to place Tufts on the perch that had been set up beside the couch. "Sorry buddy, but you have to wait there while I get this over with." A sudden, silly thought struck him. "Hey, Mum, does this family thing make Tufts my dad?" When Tufts gave a loud kee, it only stirred Mike into laughter.

"This is where I make some stereotypical joke. Not going to." Joyce opened the book and flipped to the next fresh page she could find. "Okay, start from the top. Ears."

Mike clenched his eyes closed, puffed out his cheeks, and promptly wiggled his ears. "Yup, still there. Next!" When he looked at his mother, he didn't find quite the laughter he had hoped would be there. "Oh come on, you can't expect me not to crack any jokes at all?"

Joyce smiled at that. "There really is no keeping you down, is there Michael?" 

"Hey Tufts,"—Mike turned to look at the bat, cupping his distorted hand ineffectually—"do you think Mum is being too stuffy?" Right on time, Tufts gave a loud kee of support. "Thought so."

"I give up." Joyce had lost any hope she had of keeping a straight face. "But I need to measure your ears still."

Mike submitted to his mother's measuring, getting his ears and mane of hair measured. But when Joyce examined his chin—where the aquamarine fur was up to—she gasped. 

"What's wrong?" On edge at hearing his mother's shock, Mike's mood changed to worry.

"It is growing." Joyce pointed at his neck, then reached for her bag. Pulling out a magnifying glass, Joyce took another close look. "I can watch this grow…" And she did, until Mike finally had had enough and pulled back.

"Mum, I know I am growing fur. I am going to end up being a cute little aquamarine pony." Mike was worked up by the situation, and the worst bit was there was no one to blame for it. "I might even be turning into a mare for all we know. Can you just do the exam and let me go relax?"

Joyce backed off a little and put her magnifying glass back in her bag. "Right. Sorry Michael." The tone in the room had shifted, and it was obvious to see how it had effected Joyce. "Disrobe and stand up. If you need to hold on to something, use the mantelpiece.

"I…" Mike had to gulp down on his pride. "I'm sorry, Mum. I just… I am a little stressed by all this, and the fur seems to be the least of my problems." He let out a deep sigh and shucked out of the dressing gown. Balancing on his twisted feet, Mike stood before the fireplace and held on to it with both hands.

Mike was surprised by the hug he didn't see coming. "Mum…" He let go of the mantel with one hand and curled that arm around his mother. Something was off, at first, but he realized what it was and as quickly discarded it; Mike had physically shrunk a little.

"You are my boy. My little boy. And no matter what you say, I will never stop loving you, Michael Robertson." Joyce had her arms wrapped around Mike, and had one of his soft, fuzzy arms around her. "Uh… that's different…"

"Doctor Mum, back on duty. What's different?" The hug had put a smile back on Mike's face, and despite hearing about something different, knew it wouldn't change the end result.

"Your nipples, Michael." Joyce felt at Mike's chest, searching his pectorals for the nubs in question. "You haven't noticed them?"

"Not… not really. What does this mean?" Confusion more than panic, filled Mike, and he reached his free hand up to check. Sure enough, the familiar bumps that had adorned his chest since birth were missing. What pulled him back from his examination was his mother checking down his body. 

"Ponies don't have nipples there, but a stallion doesn't have them anywhere." Joyce felt down Mike's body. "I am going to need to get a little personal, Michael."

Mike finally jerked back. "Mum!" It hadn't been what he had thought, though, and Mike reached down to touch the sensitive part of himself that his mother had. 

"Teats." Joyce's voice was as neutral as she had ever used with either of her children.

"But stallions have those too, right?" Mike ran his fingers between the soft protrusions.

Looking her son in the eyes, Joyce shook her head. "Michael, only female ponies have them." She caught Mike when he stumbled, wrapping her arms around her son as tight as she could. "Shh. You are going to be alright."

"I…" Mike's tears stole whatever words he might have tried to use. Sobbing, he clung to his mother. "I'm going to turn into a mare, aren't I?" In the infinite field of possibility, everything had collapsed down into one possible result. Mike felt like a dam had burst inside him. "I'm scared."