//------------------------------//
// Well howdy doody 
// Story: The Seventh Sense 
// by LikeaSir 
//------------------------------//

"W-whaddya mean you've no idea?!" I was at this point, apoplectic, and quite unsure exactly what I should be feeling. "I'm not gonna... burst, or something, am I?"

"As I said" Nurse Tenderhoof simpered, "I've no idea. But, we definitely can get you the help you need! As a matter of fact, you're in luck!" I raised a tentative eyebrow at her, as she continued. "A gentlecolt named Braeburn lives in town - he's Applejack's cousin, and Applejack has some pretty serious political clout. She and her friends can fast track you into one of the capital's Natural Thaumaturgy research facilities. You couldn't be in better hooves!"

In spite of myself, I was impressed. This girl was a consumate professional, and inspired confidence (when there were no thermometers within easy reach, at any rate). A sense of relief began to wash over me. "Oh, thank goodness! You're a diamond, Tenderhoof!" 

"Come on then" she beckoned me, smiling. "Let's find you a place to sit while we wait on Braeburn."

"What, he's on his way already?!"

"Course' he is!" she said, winking hugely. "I'm not known as Appleoosa's best vet for nothing, you know!"

"But how did you contact hi...?"

"Pyrogram"

"What's a p..." I didn't manage to finish, as by now we'd reached the veterinary practices' reception area, and Tenderhoof; the very model of efficiency, had forced me into a seat.

She hurried off to do vet things, and I sat, momentarily stunned by this swift change of pace. Gosh... I thought to myself. These guys are nearly as good as the NHS! My contemplations were rudely disrupted by a voice from behind the reception desk.

"Scuse' me sir." came the despondent voice, "Are you the one waiting for Mister Braeburn?"

"Yup!" I replied dully, standing in an effort to spot the voice's owner. A pair of eyes peeped over the counter at me, somehow conveying an expression of absolute dread.

"Well he shouldn't be long now" the eyes said. "There's the door." A hoof popped up, and gestured vaguely.

"Aah yes." I responded, eyeing the door. "Thank you." I wandered over to it. Through its glass pane, I could see an arid, and starkly beautiful expanse, dotted with cacti, and the occasional boulder.

Looking back to the eyes, I voiced my thoughts. "This Apple-loser place is really rather lovel-"

I was interrupted by an obscenely guttural noise from outside, like someone tossing a bucket of paint into a jet engine, and turned just in time to witness a glutinous brown liquid spatter heavily across the door, wholly obscuring the hitherto pleasant view.

Mere moments later, the door splashed open, and in minced the most painfully stereotypical hayseed I ever did see. The leather waistcoat tells me all I need to know. I can just tell the lad is as gay as a daisy. Hell, his arse is probably loose enough to whistle when the wind catches it just right. Good on him, I guess. Do what you love, love what you do and all that.

He sashayed up to the reception counter, shooting me with a sultry look, and the floor with a wad of chewing tobbacco roughly the size of a deck chair. Nice. Guess I know what hit the window now.

"why hello there ma'am" he drawled, politely. (actually it sounded more like 'Whaaaaeeeeyul howdy doody deyuh shugguh', but I've taken liberties in my transcription to make it a little more legible for you, you lucky thing!). "I do believe you sent for me?" he (I am fairly sure) continued. The eyes quivered, and sank below the desk, looking more forlorn than ever.

Before the poor dear behind the desk could reply, A glazed look entered the newcomer's eyes, as he horked and snorted up a storm. This storm eventually culminated in the expulsion of his biggest, brownest wad of chewing tobbacco yet.

Please no. Please tell me this guy isn't...

"...Umm... Mister Braeburn...?" I hesitantly interrupted his horking. He swiveled lazily around to fix me with an aggressively vacuous look; mouth open, baccy juice dribbling down his chin. "Hyeayuh?"

Oooh shit.

For better or for worse, I now had the dubious pleasure of his attention, and he horked cautiously at me.

"I umm... I believe you're looking for me?"

"...Hyeayuh?"

"Umm..." I considered my next words carefully. "Yes...?" I ventured.

The effort of thought overwhelmed him, and his eyes took on that blank expression again. I wasn't sure whether he was winking at me a lot, or blinking each eye individually. It is entirely possible he was doing both at once? It was quite hard to tell.

"Hyeayuh..."

"You were going to take this stallion to meet your nice COUSIN, weren't you Braeburn." the desk prompted.

Braeburn considered the desk's proposal for some time, before horking a hefty mouthful over it. The fat brown chunk soared majestically through the air, and walloped into a mercifully unoccupied seat.

"Hyeayuh" agreed Braeburn; eventually determining the desk to be correct in its hypothesis.

He stirred into action, punted the door open, and minced through it, ahead of me. A gentle breeze caressed him, and I heard a faint but distinct whistle.

Called it.

The desk urgently beckoned me after Braeburns slowly retreating figure. "Off you go then!"

And so, off I went. As the door closed behind me, I heard the sound of Tenderhooves sloshing about with a mop and bucket.