//------------------------------// // Epilogue: A random bit of bonus // Story: Crowded house // by Cackling Moron //------------------------------// Another evening at home, but I am not home alone. I am instead sat cross-legged on the floor of my lounge across from a tiny, magical infant horse, who I am looking after. This was something I’d somehow ended up doing more than once, though I am utterly unable to recall ever actually ever explicitly agreeing to it even once. Somehow it just kept happening, keeps happening and will likely continue to keep happening. I don’t mind, much. The tiny child is fair enough company and we seem to have something of a rapport. Might even go so far as to say she likes me, if all the smiling is anything to go by, at least. I think that might actually be why I keep getting lumbered with looking after them, honestly. Because of our rapport. Or just because I’m always too slow to say no. Either way. Luckily childcare turns out to not really have any great secret to it. It’s just exhausting. Children never stop. Until they do, and then you have to rush around doing all the things you couldn’t do because before the child was too busy not stopping. Still, that rapport of ours helps keep her usually destructive tendencies to a minimum. I’ve heard some dark stories indeed, but only as stories, never seen any of it myself other than one time she was zipping about the living room ceiling, and that hadn’t been so bad, really.  Thank heaven for small mercies, I suppose. This was the first time I’d ever had to look after her at my place, though.  All the previous times had been the other side of that secret doorway, over in horse country, somewhere I seem to be spending an increasing amount of my time these days. Over there it had always just been me being left holding the bag - or the baby - when everyone else had buggered off to do something. There at least it had felt organic and less planned. Not so this time. This time I’d just had the tiny one thrust into my grasp alongside a bag of things to keep them clean and fed and told that they’d be being picked up in an hour or three. And with that the pink one and the small one - Cadence and Twilight, I really must remember to use the names - were off to do who-knows-what together, giggling all the way. The presumption of these horses, I tell you.  Suppose it’s nice to be trusted, though. They didn’t seem to have even an inkling of doubt that I’d be able to handle it, just took that as a given. Which is something. Quite nice, in a way. Nice to know you’re seen as a safe pair of hands, suggests you’re held in some high regard, doesn’t it? Quite nice. Once you get past being a puppet to the whim of royal horses, which was me all over anyway, really. Celestia long had me wrapped right around her little finger. Or hoof.  And speaking of Celestia. “I’ll trade you this Luna for that Celestia,” I said, proffering the doll I had and pointing to the doll she had. She gave this some consideration, eyes flicking from doll to doll to me and then back to the dolls. Eventually she must have felt that what I was offering was good because we swapped.  She was happy, I was happy, everyone was happy. Oh yes, the dolls. That happened. Turns out that apparently my horse and all the other horses are also cartoon characters with merchandise and everything. I had previously been unaware of this but, while out and about one day, I passed something that made me do a double-take. A large display of all of them. With toys.  A lot of toys. Obviously I bought a bunch, once I got over my initial shock. How could I not? I’m not going to turn my nose up at providence, especially not when it’s so brightly-coloured. The toys themselves aren’t really that much to write home about. The ones I got were just hunks of plastic at the end of the day, no articulation at all. Not a very good likeness of any of the horses - obviously I got all the ones I’d met, obviously - and the hair in particular is just plain rubbish looking. Certainly doesn’t capture how nice Celestia’s mane is, but I guess it’s hard to mould mystic waviness and sparkliness into plastic. And they meant well, presumably, and the dolls did have a certain novelty. Who’s in the palm of whose hand now, Celestia? Who? Etcetera. I got some odd looks when I bought them but I get odd looks whatever I do so it wasn’t that bad. I was used to that. And who cares, really? I’ll buy what I want. A brief look online showed me that had I been willing to splash out there was no shortage of steady-handed craftpersons willing to make far high quality items but that was after the fact and, really, the dolls got the job done anyway, cheap and cheerful as they were (though not as cheap as I might have liked).  A further look online also showed me that the show was quite alarmingly popular, not to mention prolific. Films and all sorts, even the kind you get in the cinema. Surprising I hadn’t heard about it before, really. Really should learn to pay more attention. I’m not even going to bother thinking about what the existence of the show means in the context of having characters from it visit me. That way madness lies. I’m just going to continue on as if nothing had happened.  This approach has worked well for me in the past, and I imagine it’ll work well here, too.  With the exception, of course, of asking what they thought about it. I hadn’t had a chance to bring up the ‘You are a cartoon’ thing to Celestia or any of other other horses as of yet. The opportunity just hadn’t presented itself, not properly at least. Was kind of looking forward to it. Specifically bringing it up to Celestia, with her doll and everything.  It’s the little things. Celestia was meant to be coming later, after the pink one - Cadence, Cadence, use the names - comes to collect her spawn. I could do it then. Would be a laugh. Then the cuddling would start. What a busy life I lead now. Better than before, I’ll admit. Less sitting on my own. More cuddles. More naps. Never been so rested in my life. Playing with the dolls continued for some time. The child - Flurry, use names - and I wove a complex and multi-layered narrative full of drama and character development. It looked like bashing dolls together and making explosions sounds, but it was a lot more than that.  I also gave her some apple, which she enjoyed. She then rode me like a horse around the lounge for a bit, something which she plainly found hilarious in the way children find a lot of things hilarious and which I found amusing in an ironic sort of a way - the best kind of way. All was well. Was that irony? I always forget. Was amusing, that I do know. Horses riding people! That’s the wrong way round! Hilarious. And it was while I was there, shuffling about on my hands and knees, that Cadence and Twilight returned. Not that I noticed. I only noticed when my shuffling brought me around to find them both standing in my doorway, laden with shopping bags and both beaming ear-to-ear. Guess they liked the irony, too, or whatever it was I was doing. “Having fun?” Cadence asked. “Whale of a time,” I said, tramping over and dipping so Flurry slid forward down my back and into the magical grasp of her mother, something she did while gurgling in naked delight the whole while. For my part I stood up again and stretched. Being a horse does a number on one’s back, let me tell you. While Cadence said hello to Flurry and asked - in those special tones one uses for children - if she’d had fun and what she’d spent the day doing, Twilight sidled up towards me. I recognised that sidle. It only ever led to one thing. “Do you want to borrow another book?” I asked, pre-emptively. She blushed only a little on being so transparent and blurted: “Just the History of Western Philosophy. If you don’t mind!” I frowned. A dry volume but fun if you’re into that sort of thing. “I thought you read that one already?” I asked. Fairly certain she’d read all of my books at this point. “I have.” So she had then, not that this seemed to deflate her eagerness to keep borrowing. Her enthusiasm was incandescent. Who was I to stand in the way? “...by all means, go ahead,” I said, waving her past me. “Thank you!” In she trotted, setting her bags down first and then heading straight for the bookshelf. She was very familiar with where things on there, now, primarily as she’d been the one to reorganise the thing. Twice. I turned back to Cadence, finding Flurry somehow fast asleep and the bag I’d been given alongside her also having been collected. She works fast. That’s motherhood for you, I suppose. Everywhere at once. “We really are grateful for you looking after her, you know,” she said. I shrugged. “It’s fine, not a problem. I’m not exactly a child-minded child-minder but we have a good time, I like to think.” For a man with no prior experience I seemed to do alright. Certainly, Flurry was still alive, which had to count for something. Cadence gave me a warm smile and a companionable pat on the hip. “Aww, you’re so nice.” I’m really not. I am not what I seem to be; I am awful. She then gave Flurry enough of a gentle bounce to rouse her, if only for a moment, those big eyes halfway opening and looking around to see what the deal was. “Say ‘Goodbye uncle’, now,” Cadence said. Flurry grizzled out something that sounded more like ‘uncah’ than anything else but was still enough to melt the heart - even my heart. She does make some very cute noises. And she of course then went right back to sleep, plainly pooped from having- Wait. I’m sorry, what? “Did you say-” was all I managed to ask Cadence’s retreating back before she’d disappeared around the corner, passed just in time by Luna and Celestia coming the other way, only just having arrived.  Celestia’s face lit up like the sun itself when she clapped eyes on me, the sight of which was enough to have my already sputtering brain start melting completely. Uncle? Sorry? What? “You look confused,” Celestia said, moving up to nuzzle me as she usually did when saying hello these days. I put an arm around her neck. Didn’t really think about it, didn’t even really notice that much. I just pointed to where Cadence had been mere seconds before. “The pin- Cadence said for Flurry to call me uncle,” I said, dumbly, still processing. Celestia just blinked and tilted her head slightly, continuing to smile serenely at me. Like this was all fine and normal. “Yes,” she said. “Doesn’t she call you aunt?” I asked. I’d heard Cadence call her that. “Yes,” she said. Her utter lack of reaction left me stranded. “...what does that make me?” I asked, bereft. I got another nuzzle. “An uncle?” Celestia suggested, mid-nuzzle. This did not help me in any way, shape or form. “...as in...just a general term or...specifically...familialy?” Mean, ‘uncle’ gets thrown around a lot, doesn’t it? And doesn’t always mean anything official, does it? Doesn’t reflect any change in relationship or how one is perceived as regards...arrangements and...things… Am I an uncle to a baby horse now? And where does that put me with Celestia? If she’s the aunt and I’m the uncle that makes me… Did I miss a memo? Celestia’s smile took on a slight pitying aspect. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” she said. “But-” Whatever I had been about to say - and, honestly, I’m not even sure what I had been about to say - was cut short by Twilight bumping into my leg with what might well have been affection. She’d found the book she’d been looking for. And several others from the looks of things. “I think you’re a great uncle,” she said, scooping up her bags from where she’d left them. “Not to me, obviously! You know that’d be, heh - that’d be weird. But Flurry loves you. You’re really good with her.” “I - since when - but - “ I blurted, but Twilight had gone too, apparently having said all she needed to and having given my leg a farewell hug. This left me, Celestia and Luna standing around like a trio of sinking puddings. “Uncle?” I managed to say. My foot knocked something. Looking down, I saw the Celestia doll. Somehow it was by my foot. How was that? How had that happened? I knew not. I just stooped to pick it up and then held it before me. “This is you,” I said, dumbly. She took the doll from grasp and hovered it in for a closer look. I could tell she was not particularly impressed. “Is it?” She asked. “The box said it was you.” The doll was passed back to me. “I’d ask for your money back, if I were you. The hair isn’t right at all.” I lost the thread completely, what little thread I’d had to start with. Thoughts of bringing up the cartoon evaporated, thoughts of seeking clarification on exactly what sort of uncle I was drifted out of my head. I was just bamboozled, head to toe. Did anything in my life make sense anymore? Celestia’s smile was nice. That was consistent. There came a polite but forceful clearing of a throat, and I tore my attention away from Celestia to look toward her sister, who’d been the one to do it. Luna had been waiting this whole time. I would say waiting patiently but the look on her face was anything but patient. “We are given to understand that there is a new series of The Crown on the Net Flicks?” She asked, seeing she now had my attention. This took me a second to work out, as it was so astoundingly mundane I had to reel my mind in to get it to make sense. But she wasn’t wrong. There was. Bit too much Diana for my tastes, but passable stuff. I gave her the nod and off she went, the nod all she needed as far as permission went. Big fan of my many subscriptions, was Luna. Ruined my recommendations. Should have got her her own profile, really, but she’d gone roaring ahead before that thought had crossed my mind. Too late now. Horse, stable, bolted, etcetera. I had tried to see whether you could take something from my place over to their place and still have streaming work but no. Guess wifi doesn’t go across dimensions. Honestly probably should have seen that one coming, but we live in hope, don’t we? So now it was just me and Celestia standing in the doorway, Luna making herself comfortable on my sofa as she got things loaded up and running. I hugged Celestia, just so I had something solid in my life for a moment. She made a delightful cooing sound. All was well. Confusing still, of course, but well. It broke, and I gave her a smile. She gave me one too. I pointed back over my shoulder. “Well, what are we going to be doing if she’s nabbed the television?” I asked. “Snuggling,” Celestia said with a frankly unsettling level of relish. Ask a stupid question. - “...so I guess I’m part of this equine family unit now, somehow. That happened.” There were nods from around the group. The other guys knew how I felt. Even for those it hadn’t also happened to with their Celestia they could well sympathise. The horses were insidious, sliding in your life and pulling you into theirs. You barely even noticed it happening. I sure as balls hadn’t. One man was not nodding, I noticed. Minigolf guy looked perplexed, and he had his hand raised. “Question?” I asked. His hand lowered. “What was that about the dolls and the show?” He asked. Seemed an odd part to ask a question about. I’d have perhaps asked for more detail on how I’d apparently ended up an uncle without even noticing, but to each their own. “That it exists? I’m not sure I understand the question,” I said. “No, I mean what show?” Fair enough. I hadn’t heard of it, stood to reason that at least one other member of our illustrious group hadn’t. Unlikely, sure, but possible. I looked to the others. “I’m probably a bit late in coming to learn about the show,” I said to them, but now they all looked perplexed too, and the nodding had stopped. I got an ill feeling in my waters. “The show? The series? That just-so happens to contain these horses? And Celestia? Mean, no idea which came first or how any of it happened but the show definitely exists, I’ve seen it. I saw an episode. Was pretty good, actually,” I said, looking around to see if this made it clearer to anyone. Perplexed looks continued. “Are you sure?” Trampoline guy asked. Was I sure? Was I sure? Did they think I was making this up? “Pretty bloody sure. I saw it with my eyes. It was on television. Proper television, I mean. And online. I looked this all up online.” “I’ve never seen anything like what you’re describing,” minigolf guy said. Were they having me on? Was this a joke? “Look, I’ll find the damn thing again, give me a second,” I said, whipping out my phone and moving to search for it. Hell, I just went straight to Wikipedia - that’d have it, that’d sort it out for certain. My phone refused to load anything. Not that the page didn’t exist, just my phone started acting up. Failure to load. Connection issues. I refreshed and refreshed and turned things off and on again but this problem persisted. Before too long I gave up in disgust. “You all have phones, you look it up,” I said, in defeat. A few did so, most didn’t. Those that did were soon shaking their heads. “Nope, nothing. What did you say it was called again?” I told them. They searched again. They shook their heads again. Is this what going mad feels like? I thought having a magical horse invade my home on a regular basis might have been what going mad felt like but that had been serene bliss compared to this. With increasing, uncomfortable panic I reached down into the pocket of my coat hanging off the back of my chair and pulled out the doll that I’d shoved there, holding it out for all to see. “I have the bloody doll! Look!” I said, raising it higher on my palm where everyone peered at it. I’d brought Celestia, obviously. That should really go without saying. “Can I see that?” Asked the man to my immediate left. I handed it over. “Pass it round,” I said, not meaning for it to sound like a command or to sound desperate but apparently achieving at least one as that was what then happened. The doll was duly passed around through curious hands, turned this way and that and subjected to intense scrutiny. No-one thought very highly of the hair, and as well they shouldn’t, the hair was rubbish. “Did you make these?” Steeplechase guy asked, holding the doll up close to his face and eyeing me over the top of it. Did I look like the sort of man with the competence to make a sandwich, let alone a doll? And if the answer to that question was yes, did they take me for the sort of man who’d then choose to make the hair like that? “No, I bought them,” I said. He stared at the doll some more and frowned, eyes then flicking back up to me. “Where?” He asked. “In a shop. Where one typically buys things.” He went quiet then sighed, shrugged and passed the doll along. “Huh. Weird…” He said. I slumped in my seat and rubbed my eyes. Eventually the doll passed back to me and I, without comment, put it back into my coat pocket. There didn’t seem a lot of point in pressing the issue.  This was probably one of Celestia’s jokes anyway. Somehow.