//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: The Little Odyssey // Story: Hello, My Name is Air Marshal // by CrackedInkWell //------------------------------// In hindsight, I might have accepted the armed escort after all, or at least dig into a nearby garbage can to fish out for some clothes that would make me look like a hobo. Or maybe take my chances navigating in the back alleys, risking getting foalnapped or something. These ought to have been the things that a newly made alicorn should have thought about before flying home. I should have a split second thought that my horn might turn some heads like buzzing neon lights that say: Look! Flying Freak Show Now Flying on the Strip!         Too bad I didn’t think of that when I left the hospital. Since I’ve decided to go straight home, I should have kept in mind that there might be a problem as it’s right across town. Over the dragon’s den of tourists that might happen to look up.         Otherwise, I could have avoided what happened next.         “Hey look! It’s that new prince guy!”         Looking behind me, there was the flock of tourists with cameras already flashing. Before I knew it, my flight path was surrounded by them like locus to a tree. Before I could tell them to buzz off, one of them wrapped a foreleg around me. “Get my picture with him!”         “Me too!” Another said, pressing me in between an awkward pony sandwich before temporarily blinding me with a firing squad of flashes.         “So what are you a prince of?” One of them asked, unleashing a million other questions.         “Can Celestia make me an alicorn?”         “Have you been one this whole time?”         “Could I use you in a science experiment?”         “Can I get your autograph?”         “Are you Celestia or Luna’s son?”         “Can I have a lock of your mane?”         “Do you wanna go out with me?”         While the swarm ate away my attention span and my time, I couldn’t help but think: ‘Get a grip ponies! I just walked out of the hospital with a pointy bump on my head. Who do these guys think I am? Princess Twilight? Wait, no… That would mean she was popular, to begin with.’         So, since I was still in the air, I did the only reasonable thing of getting out of this situation: fold up my wings and let me drop straight down like a brick. Yeah, I had to make a run for it now. I mean, besides the easily deranged, narcissistic (or both) who wouldn’t? I didn’t ask for a paparazzi to mob me. Even when said mob ends up chasing me.         “Wait!” I heard someone cry. “I didn’t ask you how many foals you’ll have with me yet!”         Needless to say, my priorities weren’t thinking about who says that to a complete stranger – rather, it’s to get away from them as possible. Luckily, as a native of the city, I knew a place where I might be able to hide in. A place where I was always able to go when I wanted to avoid the problems that follow me, where I could soothe my worries and silence all those bad days at my job.         The Drink-A-Way Bar.         A place that, while not by any means fancy or high end, has good service, cold drinks and (more importantly) I know the owner. In fact, as soon as I flew right through those double wooden doors, the very first thing I said to the guy behind the counter was, “HIDE ME!” before ducking in right behind the bar.         The barpony blinked. “Uh, sir? You’re not supposed to-” Immediately I reached into my orange work vest and held up a hoofful of bits.         “I promise to pay you double if you tell them I’m not here.”         “Why would you-” Before he could finish his question, the double doors banged open and I curled up underneath the counter, putting a hoof over my mouth. The barpony above me cleared his throat. “Welcome to Drink-A-Way’s, how can I help all of you?”         “Did you see an Alicorn come in?” I heard one of them asked.         Mercifully, the barpony played innocent. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”         “Did anypony came in just now?”         “Not really. It’s been kinda quiet here, all of you are the first batch of customers I’ve seen come in.”         “Did he turn himself invisible?” I heard another asked.         “Must be.” Said another. “Ooh, that new prince must be powerful if he could pull off something like that.”         I had to resist the urge to bang my head against the wooden paneling. But I knew better to do that if they wanted to see an impaling horn sticking out on the other side.         “You could always check out back.” The barpony suggested. “If whoever you’re looking for had snuck out, perhaps he might have gone out there.”         “C’mon!” One of them shouted. “Let’s go before he gets away!”         After the stampede left, I looked up at the barpony. “Are they gone?” I whispered.         “All is clear. You can come out now.” After peeking my head out to see that the lunatics were gone, I took out the rest of the bits and gave it to him. “Hey,” he said, “aren’t you that guy that Celestia-”         “Accidentally.” I interrupted. “She accidentally did this to me. I was just trying to get away from… whatever that was.”         “Since when did you become famous all of a sudden?” This voice was one I recognized. There, walking through his office, an ancient guy composed entirely of wrinkles, grayness, and baldness was one of the very few friends I have in Las Pegasus. While everyone jokes about his name, Mr. Hangover was one of those guys that’s a whole lot more interesting than he looks. Even before his maneline was moving further back, he would tell stories of all the crazy things that happened to him in Las Pegasus from meeting Den Maretan in person to how he stopped his store being robbed single-hoofed. He was the kind of guy that he had as many stories about his past as he does wrinkles. “Seriously Air, since when do you have the paparazzi after…” he trailed off as soon as he laid eyes on me. “Huh… Now there’s something you don’t see every day.”         “Yeah, so I’ve noticed.” I deadpanned.         He went around me in a circle, no doubt looking at my wings and horn. He even tapped the spiral bump on my head to see if it was real. “Huh… Ya know, of all the things that I’d expected you to end up being… this isn’t one of them.”         I raised an eyebrow. “That I would become famous in a few hours?”         Hangover shrugged. “In this town, you only get that kind of attention if you win it big at a casino, got lucky with a celebrity on camera or you won a big lottery check that you’re gonna use it to go to Whinnyland. This…” He waved a hoof at me. “This wasn’t what I had in mind.”         “Whatever, Mr. Hangover, I need help getting home without being spotted. Do you have something or know somepony that could get me to my house without encountering another mob of psychos?”         Tapping his chin in thought, he replied. “Well… I guess I could… But you’re not gonna like it.”         “What?”         “I mean, knowing your sense of pride, you’re really are not gonna like it.”         With a snort, I said to him: “Hangover, right now I’m trying to avoid being torn into pieces so that tourists could take leftovers of me home with them. I don’t think my pride would matter as much as just surviving to get home. Ya know, I don’t care if you have to put me in a dress if ya have to, I just wanna go home.”         (Here’s another tip: if you believe in karma, and you say out loud the worst-case scenario after something weird happens of going from bad to what-am-I-looking-at, the universe will take up the challenge and multiply it several times over.)         Ten minutes later, I walk out of Mr. Hangover’s office with a permanent frown and a purple bunny suit. Yes, you read that right! A purple, cartoony, cutesy, a-little-too-tight-around-the-flank bunny suit. While it didn’t hide the horn poking out of my head, it did, however, hide my wings. The very first thing to come out of my mouth as soon as I walked out was, “Why do you have this thing around in your office?”         “What can I say?” He shrugged. “It’s a hit on Bunny Days. The customers get a good laugh, I get more money, and everypony would be too drunk to remember the next day. I know it’s embarrassing, but it should help you a little.”         “How? By walking out in public like a dork?”         “This is Las Pegasus, there are more weirdos per-capita than Ponyville. They’re plenty of cosplayers and partiers in costumes running around, so you walking around out like that shouldn’t stand out too much.”         “I’d beg to differ.” I muttered.         “Hey, it’s either this or facing your fans.”         One cringe-worthy moment later, I started heading out the door. “Thanks for letting me borrow this.”                 “Just don’t get it torn, ya hear?” He called out. “I want it back anyway.”         So out into the evening with a scowl on my face. Mr. Hangover was right about Las Pegasus, that when it is dusk – that’s when the weirdos come out. As much as I wish I could simply fly over all of this or know how to use my horn to just teleport into my living room, I had to walk for several blocks. There has never been a more humiliating moment in my whole life than that night of going through the brightly lit streets in a purple bunny suit – in front of everypony.         From street to street, step by step, I hated every moment of it. From the strange looks from tourists that drew their kids away from me – to the partiers that wanted to take my picture, scowl and all. But the worst of all, however, was going pass the Big Top Casino when I was flagged down by a group of ponies. Who they too were in bunny suits.         “Hey! Where are you going?” The one that stopped me was a mare that was in a full suit that was bright yellow with an even brighter pink face sticking out – the kind of colors that you’d get migraines just by looking at it. “This is the right place.”         I blinked. “Uh… What?”         “I take that you’re new.” She took my hoof and dragged me inside. “I take it that there might have been a mix-up? Well don’t worry, you’ve found the right place. The hall is right through here.”         By now you’re probably wondering how come I didn’t try to at least ask her what she was talking about, or that I was going someplace else. This is simply because this gal was so excitable, so energetic, and so bouncy that she kept on talking before I could get a word out. Like she was a little kid that hasn’t calmed down from a sugar high while downing twelve energy drinks for good measure. Plus, it didn’t help that she happened to have a surprisingly good grip as she hopscotched inside and into an enormous conference hall.         Now… I’m fully aware that Las Pegasus is the pilgrimage destination for all sorts of conventions that cover practically everything from holiday celebrations to cult devotions. I’ve heard that the hotels on the strip tend to cover things from sweet and innocent such as “Adorable Pets Week” to as extreme as the infamous “Whips, Chains and Paddles Festival.” As they’re pretty much open to anything as long as the sponsors of said events are able to pay for rental space. And sometimes, there are rumors of them just hosting the plain weird stuff.         So it’s within good reason that I place the “Ponies in Bunny Suits Night” into the latter category. As soon as I was dragged in, I was drowning in a sea of these weirdos as far as the eye can see in every color of the rainbow… and perhaps even beyond that. Everything bunny related to stuff animals to panels of… questionable fan art was all there for sale while I was caught up in the currents of ponies in these ridiculous customs and suits that may have been even more cartoony than what I was wearing.         The only thought I had that went through my head in that place was: ‘…. Am I in Wonderland right now?’         Seriously, I half expected to see the Mad Hatter and Alice come walking by as I was trying to swim my way out of this surreal vortex of a filly’s scribblings of her obsession. However, as I found out, getting into “Ponies in Bunny Suits Night” was the easy part – getting out, however, was like something out of a game show. First I have to swim across a lake of multi-colored suits. Then I have to bunny hop my way across the dance floor. Duck under the Bunny Hole ball toss, tango around the flying carrot ring toss, move aside the Bunny Dunk tank, eat my way through the land of chocolate eggs and cotton candy, hurl into the can with the smiling rabbit, and avoid the little foals that wanted a ride on my back.         Luckily for me, going through the convention lead to a shortcut home. All that was left was for me to tread through blocks of more suburban houses were hardly any tourists would dare come by unless they were surely lost. Mercifully my neighborhood doesn’t usually go outside of their homes as I walked down the street towards my house. As much as I would like to gallop home to slam the door and probably stay there until the world forgets about the New Alicorn until Celestia sneezes and makes a new one.         Anyway, just as I was reaching the front door and had my hoof out, praying that nothing else I have to deal with would pop up before I go straight to bed, I heard: “What’s with the bunny suit, Air?”         Every single curse word imaginable went through my head before I turned my head over my shoulder. I couldn’t believe I forgot that it was around this time of night that my neighbor, Garlic Grill, would be taking out the trash. The guy was putting a garbage bag into the can with his wing when I looked at him.         “Oh… Uh, evening Mr. Grill.” I awkwardly waved at him. “I just uh… had a really crazy day is all.”         “Huh… I see.” He said as he put a lid on the can. “I heard you’re an Alicorn now.”         “What uh…” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Where’ve you heard that?”         “Well, Mrs. Mallet said that Celestia turned you into one this afternoon. Plus, it must be true as that horn is sticking out.” Oh yeah… I forgot about that. “So… are ya a Prince or something now?”         “Oh, C'mon, this?” I pointed at the pointy bump on my head, “This doesn’t change anything. It’s still me with the same old job. The only thing that changed is my appearance. It’s not that big of a deal.”         He rolled his eyes. “Okay, I can get that you’re in denial. Still, it doesn’t explain why you’re dressed like that guy in a Hearth’s Warming story?”         I groaned. “Look, I just needed a disguise to get me home without getting mugged.”         “You sure that you’re not trying to?”         “Point being! I had a really long day and I’d like to go to sleep now.”         Just before I could reach for the doorknob, I heard him say: “One more question – if you’re an alicorn now, does this mean you’ll be getting a raise?”         Craning my head back with a deadpan expression, I replied. “For what? Getting an unpoppable zit from that grew out of my skull? Knowing my boss, if your own vacation days are at his mercy, I highly doubt that me being an alicorn would do anything other than getting yelled at for not working after being struck by Celestia’s electrotherapy. Goodnight, Mr. Grill.”         After dragging myself through the front door, locking it, and getting the stupid suit off, I collapsed on my bed and promptly fell asleep.