//------------------------------// // Chapter 13: An Explanation And Expedition // Story: My Life As A Psychopathic Nine Year Old Filly // by deadpansnarker //------------------------------// “Hmm, so correct me if I’m wrong… but you’re telling me, Nigel is a boy’s name?” “Yep. Got it in one, Smoulds.” “...Please never call me that again. So anyway, back on this ‘Urth’ where you were born, you were…” “Indeed. A man. A member of the male genus. Full of testosterone, covered with dense body hair and with rippling muscles vibrating in every bicep. Now it’s all gone, thanks to that scheming little brat. And I haven’t even mentioned the tragic loss of my…” “A-Actually you did. Numerous times, in fact.” A slightly blushing Smoulder swiftly put a claw to my mouth, in order to keep the conversation G-rated. “We have anatomy lessons in class, you know. We just never covered primates, or hu-mans as you insist on calling yourself.” Great. More good stuff that Hasbro chopped out of the show. I tell you, one of these days I’m gonna insist on an uncensored boxset. I mean, if we’re finally getting the Snyder cut of Justice League, surely it’s possible...  “Hello? Hi? Can you hear me?!” A short sharp nudge brought me back to depressing reality, and Smoulder staring wearily down at me, with the same jaded expression almost since we first met. “You know, as fun as it is hitting Cozy Glow without consequences, you really shouldn’t waste your time daydreaming. Remember, those guards could return any second, and I heard they’ve been promised promotions once you’re back in custody.” Uh oh. “U-Um, sorry Smoulder. Bad habit of mine, probably because my own life sucks so much escaping into fantasy is the only thing that keeps me going sometimes. And just when things were starting to look up with my girlfriend ‘n all, I found myself transported against my will to this living nightmare, in the body of a filly fugitive. Fate’s plaything, that’s all I am.” “So, you think Equestria is a ‘living nightmare’, eh? Yet, if I’m to believe your story, you were a big fan of this supposedly horrible place? Which only exists in your dimension as a play in a squarish electrical box, for the mindless entertainment of other primates once a week?!” Smoulder seemed most put-out by the notion that her entire world was basically a cartoon designed to distract noisy kids before naptime, and I can’t honestly say I blamed her. “Okay, so when you put it like that I guess it sounds kinda…” I attempted to clarify some of the details, but Smoulder wasn’t quite done yet.  “Another thing. This ‘Urth’ you seem so desperate to return to. This might be a stupid question, but what’s so great about it? Wars. Pollution. Prejudice. Disease. Slavery. I can’t believe they force ponies to carry other hu-mans around on their backs, and make them sleep in tiny huts not much bigger than outhouses! The final straw was when you told me…” “Y-Yes. Dragons don’t exist where I come from. I mean, they're a big part of our culture, but they never lived for real. Just like King Arthur, James Bond and Harry Potter.” If that made her so upset, thank goodness I didn’t tell her about what Saint George allegedly did. Ouch. “Yet, you want to return there? Geez, Nigel. After hearing all this, maybe I misjudged Cozy. Compared to what you’re saying, her rants are beginning to sound pretty sane.” Smoulder seemed to shake her head in pity at my plight, so I took the opportunity to make a few things clear before I completely lost her respect… ...and more importantly, my route home. “First of all, I have family and friends on Earth. They might not be much, but they’re the only ones I’ve got. Secondly, if I was to make a ‘fresh start’ here, it certainly wouldn’t be in this bedeviled form. I’d rather be Matilda! Suri Polomare! Flash Sentry, even! At least I’d get to keep my original gender! Lastly, I know my world stinks! That’s not gonna stop me from trying to make it a better place. I mean, what would happen if we all just gave up? Nothing would ever get done! Which is why I need your help now to get back where I actually belong! Also, to put an end to Cozy Glow’s plan, whatever it is. We have enough grown-up megalomaniacs in charge on my planet, without adding a child one to the mix. So, are you gonna lend me a claw, or shall I have to take my chances with somecreature else? One thing’s for sure: I won’t be able to do it alone.”  Wow. Did I really just come up with all that cringeworthy guff on the spot? Me, the most lazy layabout to ever languish in all of perpetuity? I guess when properly cornered, anyone can surprise themselves with the copious amount of bullshizz they can spout. Or maybe I’ve been watching too many movies where the unlikely hero makes a ‘big speech’ which instantly rallies all the skeptical troops onto his side. Surely Smoulder is too smart to fall for this blatantly obvious ruse…  “Okay, I’ll do it.” My initial misgivings were swept aside by four simple words from the dragon, and that was apparently that. “Come on, then. We better get to Twilight’s study, before they close this entire area down. You did say that’s where Cozy told you the body-swapping potion and time-travel device were stolen from, right?” “Y-Yeah, but…” I quickly sprung to my hooves, quite unable to believe how easy it was to convince my new ally. “In your shoes… or talons even, I probably would’ve been more suspicious, even after my half-arsed explanation. Tell me, what was it that won you over? Was it my touching love for my family? My undying hatred of the blue-haired freckled one? My selfless vow to improve the cesspit where I come from?” “Not exactly.” Smoulder shrugged her shoulders, as she made a move to exit the tiny storage room. “I’ve just been through so much weird stuff since I started attending here, I figured: What’ve I got to lose with another wacky adventure? Best case scenario… I succeed in helping you get Cozy, become a national hero and finally get Gallus to publicly admit that dragons are way better than griffons. Whilst wearing a stupid hat, of course.” “Hey! You’re one to talk, with that daft lavender jacket you have on!” I interrupted, finally able to bring up her odd choice of clothing. “I-It was Headmare Twilight’s idea, alright? A reward for being ‘Student Of The Week’, in her colours. I get the privilege of wearing it for the next seven days, to show how smart I am. No matter how many futile protests I lodge. Oh, joy.” Smoulder seemed oddly uncomfortable for a second, and being a true gentleman I decided not to push the issue any further. “I see. Makes total sense. Back to what we were discussing, what’s the ‘worse case’ that might happen?” “I get every creature to think you’re stark-raving mad and took me hostage. Considering the kind of nonsense you’ve spouted so far and the fact you’re just like Cozy in everything but personality, it wouldn’t be the most difficult of conversations.” Smoulder checked both sides to see if the coast was clear, before gesturing me forward. “Either way, it’s a win-win for me. No offense, if you thought I was doing this out of the goodness of my heart.” “Gee, thanks.” I sarcastically muttered, my previously swelled ego being punctured like a cheap party balloon. “There was me thinking that we were going to become the next big duo. You know, an unexpected pairing thrown together by chance who are polar opposites, but nevertheless capable of seeing through their myriad of differences to become the best of…” “Look, I don’t know what you think this is, but this isn’t a fake ‘TV show’ now or however you described our existence on Equestria earlier.” Smoulder made her way outside, waiting impatiently for me to catch up. “It’s real. If they catch you, it’s curtains. So maybe a bit less self-gratification, and a little more movement would be nice. Hop to it, and let’s go.” “Alright then.” I sighed in defeat, before attempting to flap my wings again. Apparently, that little rest had worked wonders, as I could hover in the air just as good as before. “Lead the way.. Of course I know where Twilight’s study is, but as they say ‘ladies first’.” “You’re looking pretty female yourself from where I’m standing,” Smoulder gave me ‘the eye’ momentarily, as she turned around to venture on. “But enough of the pointless banter. Let’s just get there, and get this over with.” “Sounds good to me, Smouldy.” I had to stifle a giggle as thoughts of a certain orange dragon dressed in the cutest of frocks underneath the School Of Friendship invaded my head. Oh, if only she knew that I knew her secret… “Wait a second. Did you just call me ‘Mouldy’? And what’s so funny…?” “O-Of course I didn’t. Also, nothing’s the matter at all.” I quickly put back my most serious expression. Which wasn’t all that credible, to be honest. “Come on, let’s not waste any more time here. Lets vamoose, compadre!” “Uh, okay.” Smoulder had obviously long since tired of my foolishness, but to fulfil her earlier vow she apparently intended to stick with me until the bitter end.  I had to give her major props for that. There weren’t many others who’d give an irritating loudmouth like me that kind of leeway. I just hope she’s right, and my crazy antics don’t land us both in trouble. It’d probably be much worse for me if we both get caught, but still… ……………………. “So anyway, here we are: Headmare Twilight’s study. Impressive, isn’t it? A chair, a desk and a few assorted cabinets. Hope it was worth the trip, Nigel.” “We’ll soon discover if it was, Smoulder. C‘mon, help me snoop around! There must be some kind of hidden stash of magical items inside the seemingly dull facade. Cozy may be a natural born liar, but I don’t think she’d fib whilst gloating to my face.“ “Interesting way of looking at it, I suppose. Very well then, anything for a quiet life.” Smoulder tried playing down her enthusiasm, but I could tell there was a slight glint of excitement in her slit eyes. Either that, or being found trespassing here might be the excuse she needs to rid herself of that awful jacket. Whatever. As long as the fashion police are the only law authority who are alerted. For the next half-an-hour or so we searched low. We searched high. On the worktops. Through the drawers. Behind the shelves. Each time, finding nothing but teaching supplements and student-related materials. Drat. And double drat. I did find some intriguing non-canonical information relating to the rest of the Young 6, such as Yona’s blood type being the unbelievably rare AB (poor thing, hope she never needs a transfusion) and Sandbar having two dads as parents (him and Scootaloo really need to get together for a chat) but little else.  Nothing that would keep me out of the pokie, anyway. Or in the good graces of an increasingly frowning Smoulder, who despite her earlier promises was beginning to sound a mite tetchy. “I thought you said they’d be some sign of the missing magical artefacts here, but so far we’ve found nothing.” The orange dragon turned around to address me, from beneath the table she was currently examining. “Are you sure this is where Cozy said she stole them from? Or maybe, she fooled you after all. Perhaps I’m the one that’s being fooled…”  “Arrgh! Don’t worry! We’ll find something, I swear! Or my name isn’t Nigel Norris!” I made a brave proclamation there and then, before seeds of doubt truly began to sprout in Smoulder’s head. “Hang on. You mean to tell me, your last name is… Norris?!” All signs of suspicion suddenly faded from Smoulder’s face, to be replaced by the widest of smirks. “Yeah, yeah. Do your worst. I've heard all the jokes. Auntie Doris. Uncle Horace. Born in a florist. Let’s just say, my old classmates were rubbish at lessons, but experts at poetry.” I tried hiding my shame from Smoulder, and my obvious embarrassment provoked an unexpected reaction from the dragon. “N-No, I wasn’t gonna tease you. My brother gets enough of that for his hobby, so I know how bad it can be. I was just thinking: you know how earlier you were telling me you don’t have a ‘cool’ nickname?” “What about it?” “Well, how about ‘N.N’?” She winked at me in a genial way. “I mean, that is the letter both your names start with, right? And anything’s gotta be better than ‘Nigel’, if you don’t mind me saying so.” “N.N. N.N. Hmm… I actually like it!” I exclaimed, conveniently ‘forgetting’ I also had a middle name. Which was Shirley, after my mum. Perhaps I’d bring it up later. Much later. “Okay, from now on you can call me N.N! As long as people don’t think it stands for Narcissistic Nincompoop, my street cred should improve by at least 20%! And I have you to thank for it! How can I ever repay…” “Just, try talking a bit less. And when you do, make a bit more sense.” Smoulder seemed a little more relaxed now. Either we were beginning to bond a microscopic amount, or this was the start of a mild case of Stockholm Syndrome. “Now, let’s start looking again. I think you might’ve missed a spot in that alcove over there.” Oops. The perceptive reptile is correct. I better get over there now and… oops. As heartened as I was in this minor breakthrough we’d made in our relationship, I failed to notice the bump in the carpet until I’d tripped head-over-hooves-over-wings on it. “Hey, you okay?” A concerned Smoulder had made her way over to check my health. After I beaned her with a giant-size book earlier for no other reason but to evade capture. Talk about benevolence. “Well, I do ache all over from the consistent abuse I’ve tolerated since my arrival, and I’m so hungry I could eat a… well, you know. Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I had a decent meal: I’d even stomach a soggy McDonald’s Happy Meal round about now! You know, the ones that never look as good as they do in the display photos, made from the tainted offal of sick… wait, what are you staring at? Can’t you see I am pouring my little heart out here?!” Looks like my appraisal of Smoulder’s capacity for empathy was a bit premature, as now she wasn’t paying any attention to me at all. Instead, she seemed transfixed by something just under the carpet where I’d fallen, and she urged me over to have a look. “N.N, come look at this! A secret trapdoor, that I’ve never even seen before. If there is any hidden cache of magical stuff in here, it’s bound to be in there! Well done for ‘stumbling’ on it(!)” Frowning at the jibe about my clumsiness yet pleased that we’d located a possible way to prove my innocence, I was about to deliver a curt yet positive riposte to my companion’s remark… Then we heard them. Footsteps, coming this way. Or rather, hoofsteps. But in this dire situation, who cares about semantics? We’d taken too long to find anything, and now it appeared me and Smoulder’s budding friendship was about to stutter to an unsatisfactory end... ...And we hadn’t even got around to shooting our first buddy flick. Danggit.