Chapter 18: What could possibly go wrong?
“Right, so, we’re all healthy now, yes? George, I’m looking at you,” I started, looking at the icons representing my friends in the Skype call. “This chapter is going live Tuesday, and I want it to be nice and long to make up for everything we’ve missed.”
“Well, not much of interest happened for a while after that,” Said Sam, deciding to pick up where we left off. “We carried him over to his side, and then talked in peace for a bit. Can’t remember everything, but when we were done we-well, they…They sort of put their right fore-hooves together, like a handshake, but they didn’t shake…I just rolled with it at the time, and then we kind of intermingled.”
“Twilight mentioned something else, too,” George added, showing to Sam and I that he was not, in fact, dead. “And it wasn’t the song title and artist that wrote it.” He seemed to be slightly annoyed that we had a music quiz without him the other day. “She said he’d be out for a couple of hours, and by a couple she meant until about tomorrow morning. I figured that to be around about… Sunrise.” I always did think he overused dramatic pauses.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Well, now we’ve settled everything,” Said The Doctor, walking with Twilight and Sam’s projection back to the tree. “I have a question for you both: How much do you know about golf?” The question clearly took Sam off-guard, as he hadn’t expected ponies to participate in a sport that required opposable thumbs. He answered before Twilight could, and didn’t bother looking to see her face, which was no doubt even more confused.
“Well,” Sam replied, “I know that traditionally it is a sport played on foot, with clubs.” The Doctor smiled and motioned for him to continue. “The club is used to strike a small ball, a couple of inches in diameter and covered in dimples, in order to propel it towards a hole a fair distance away. Don’t know much about the crazy scoring system, though.”
“Well, Twilight, I’m sure that clears up any questions that you may have had,” Sam turned to see Twilight wearing the frown of one who has been informed of a completely unheard of concept, and is working on figuring it out.
“Wait, you mean golf isn’t a sport that’s played here too often?” Sam was puzzled. How could it be that the town’s most scholarly citizen didn’t know about something? He thought back to what the stallion he had never found out the name of had said. His long-lost friend was here. Of course he’d bring up the subject of something mind-numbingly boring to make sure that some aliens didn’t anally probe him. “Ah well, I know enough to play, I guess, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No, the reason I asked was because there is going to be a competition held tomorrow morning, and the representative for the unicorns will be, err, ‘unavailable’ at that time,” The Doctor said with a chuckle, before getting to the point. “Anyway, I decided that your vast intellect would be indubitably invaluable in that you possess a great understanding of physics off-hoof, and so would be able to predict probable trajectory with little or no effort.” She blushed at the compliment as she removed the large number of protective spells around her home and unlocked the door.
“Well, I’m sure I should feel honoured, but I’d rather not partake in anything involving clubs,” She replied, having not listened completely to Sam’s explanation. “I’m really a pacifist at heart.” She motioned them inside with a hoof, and Sam’s image dissipated as the real him ran over. The Doctor had instructed that all of the ponies outside should come at his signal, which he gave at this point. They were all conscious, aside from Golden Shield, who was carried, and George entered in the midst of them, stooping slightly to remain hidden.
Suddenly Pinkie decided to voice the thought she’d been desperately trying to hold in throughout the negotiations. “Let’s have a PARTY!” She shouted, causing all who were in the room to leap several feet back and stare at her with what was, to all appearances, utmost fear. Pinkie remained jovial, and proceeded to haul in her party cannon seemingly from nowhere. All the Ponyville residents simply shrugged it off as just Pinkie being Pinkie, but the visitors were stunned, almost to the extent that George gave his position away.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Okay, just tell me before we go on,” I interrupted. “I’ve heard many things about the magnitude of Pinkie’s parties, so please tell me: Do you end up having a party, or is she called off and you all just settle for a drink?”
“Funny you should say that, actually. While I’m sure that all you’ve heard is great,” George replied, “It’s not worth it, if alcohol is involved. Trust me on that. I didn’t have any, but, well, a couple of ponies did, and they seemed worse off than Goldie by the end of it.”
“Well,” I continued, thinking on this new information, “I’m just going to assume you mean the ‘party hangover’ associated with the morning after. I just think it would be hilarious you trying to play golf with a dry tongue and a pounding headache.” He didn’t seem to think so, and my comment was ignored as he continued the tale.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Err, as much as we all need a party and a drink in all this,” Said The Doctor, “I’ve heard of your parties, and that they have their own hangovers. Please feel free to have a party, but I’d like for you to please keep it down. Myself and the other competitors shall be in another room, speaking.”
“Oki doki loki,” Replied Pinkie as The Doctor nodded and was led, along with the other competitors, downstairs by Twilight. The basement door was closed, and a few muffled bangs issued from behind it. Twilight didn’t look behind her the entire time, and was rather surprised to see that not only Sam and The Doctor had followed, but some pink maned yellow Pegasus and an unknown human as well. She thought she perceived a shadow move stealthily into the midst of the boxes, but quickly dismissed it.
“Uh,” Twilight started. She was confused, more than anything. “Who are these two? Doctor, do you know them?” Upon seeing that she was unwanted, Flutttershy shrank back and began apologising in a voice scarcely over a whisper. Before she could turn and flee upstairs, where it sounded like DJ Pon-3 had begun her work, The Doctor introduced them all.
“Right,” Said The Doctor quickly, “Twilight, this is Fluttershy, the competitor for Pegasi, and George Arthur Constantine, a human, from Earth. I’m The Doctor, for those who don’t know. Fluttershy, this is Sam and Twilight Sparkle. George, this is Fluttershy, Twilight Sparkle, and, well, I think you know who this is.” He smiled as George and Sam walked up to each other. For a while neither said anything. Suddenly, George greeted his old friend with a flurry of Australianisms.
“G’day, mate! How’re ya goin’?” He asked in a stereotypical Aussie accent. All the smiles quickly faded, as none in the room had ever heard such an odd tongue before. “I’ve bin ‘ere fer Christ knows ‘ow long, an’ now an ol’ mate o’ mine comes along and reckons he can ‘ave a chinwag ‘bout whatever he likes without a drop o’ the old amber? For shame,” he said, shaking his head in the manner of a person whose team mates didn’t pull their weight. Quite to everyone’s surprise, Sam replied in the same odd dialect, reciting the code he and his friends had made up to use in situations such as these.
“Well, ‘scuse me if I didn’t get a chance to grab a bit o’ VB on my way over,” He replied. They had the entire Australian colloquial language to use, so they might as well find out what’s going on while they were at it. “Best thing my side o’ the Black Stump since you pissed off is prob’ly Jay maturin’ up, some.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Hey,” I interrupted angrily. “That’s a lie and you know it! I never matured up any more than since George disappeared.”
“But you did mature up a little bit at that time,” replied Sam, thankfully not mentioning the sledgehammer incident, or whatever second-hand knowledge he might have of it. “Although I did hear of a lapse in this maturity when you almost blew up a metalwork room.”
“…Cock,” I summarized.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Um, Constantine,” The Doctor said after they had finished what was secretly rehearsed dialogue. “Can you please speak in terms we all understand? It’s just that I have no clue what you’re saying. While I’m sure this language has roots in Equestrian, it has far too many words I’m unfamiliar with.”
“Soz,” Said Sam, before trying to get as much information as he could with fluent Australian. “So mate, y’know what the G-O is ‘round ‘ere? I dunno ‘bout you, but I’m thinkin’ this sheila’s got a few ‘roos loose in the top paddock.”
“Too bloody right, mate,” Agreed George, nodding at Sam. “Few o’ these blokes, too. An’ the boss-fella’s wilder than the lot! Been waitin’ fer somepony I know to show up so I can ‘ave a dinky-di gasbag with ‘em, now you show up an’ there’s hellfire all over!”
“If you’re not going to speak in terms we can understand,” Twilight said angrily, “please either don’t talk at all, or provide translations.” Sam leaned over to whisper into Twilight’s ear, using a cupped hand to cover his mouth.
“I’m trying to get a handle on the situation, Twilight. And chances are George will probably want a status report on what’s happening back home. Either way, it’s a private conversation. Besides, I don’t trust anyone apart from him, in this place.” Twilight seemed a little annoyed at this explanation, but she seemed to let it slide.
“They’re talking about things that do not concern us, it would seem” Twilight said to the other ponies in the room. “Should we talk over there?” She asked, pointing with a hoof to a far corner. Time lord and Pegasus complied, and they walked over in silence. Whatever they spoke of, it was probably unimportant. Herein is an account of the exchange between George and Sam, in the common tongue.
“Look, it isn’t my fault if when I show up whatever fragile diplomatic threads are in place snap!” Retorted Sam angrily. “I need to know what’s going on, and how we’re going to get out of here.”
“Okay, so I’ve been here almost a year and a half, and the one in charge is an Alicorn with power over the moon, who intends to create a new sun, because two moons get boring after a while. She’s going to raise the sun tomorrow morning, just before the golf tournament. Look, I need to know two things: Can I trust you, and can you keep this next thing under your hat?”
“Hey, I’m not going to trust anyone but you for a long time, okay? As if I’d risk that trust being anything but mutual. Tell me anything, and until it becomes common knowledge, I shall act as if I know nothing.”
“Okay, first of all: I found out there’s a way to destroy the Queen and restore the princess who was here before. But we need to find some ponies that represent the spirits of these things called the elements of harmony. The next thing, I’m pretty sure my pistols are still working, and I have a combat knife if that fails.”
“Elements of harmony…I think I heard Jay refer to those at one stage. But I think I know who we need. I’ll remember the names when I hear them, but that might take too long. I think he talked about the bearers of them being, in his own words, ‘The Six Most Mentally Unstable Mares in All of Ponyville’ which, after what I’ve seen today, is almost certain to include that Pink one with the poofy hair.”
“Right… Well, chances are they’ll all be here in this building, but… Finding crazy ponies in a room full of party loosened ponies… Well, I think we’ll have a fun story to tell if we ever get back.” He smiled, and a look of determination crossed his features. Sam always hated that look. It always meant that he was about to run right into hell and take everybody along for the ride. He thought back to his friends, in particular Jay, who would know everything they needed about this world. If he wasn’t allowed to tell them what they needed to do, he’d at least laugh at that look. That insane look in George’s eyes were all the convincing he’d need to know whether or not it was a good idea to try. ‘Admittedly, he knew he’d be doing something crazy and impossible, but he’d still try it.’ Sam thought to himself. He wondered if George had ever thought about his friends back home. He only now noticed how tall George seemed to have gotten. ‘Must be all the veggies.’ Sam thought, chuckling to himself. Vaguely, he became aware of a hand waving in front of his face.
“Hello? Earth to Sam,” George teased. They had stopped speaking Australian, it seemed. They had a grip on their situation, and they had a plan. They also had the balls to carry out this plan, and nothing better to occupy their time. Sam knew George’s old saying for whenever he’d embark on one of his crazy missions, and saw it coming a mile away. “If hell exists…” he began, a grin spreading across his face. The smile proved itself contagious, and Sam felt himself almost laughing as he finished.
“Then it’s our job to find it! HAHAHAHA!” He punctuated this last call with a laugh that would summon the men in white coats over any divide. He did not, however, expect to be bear-hugged from behind by something mint green. With hooves. And, judging by the pain in his back, a horn.
“Fingers,” Said Lyra, refusing to let go of her Human. Sam began to worry. He looked to George, who responded by giving the universal signal for ‘I don’t have a clue’, as this had not happened to him before. Lyra seemed to realise how tight she was squeezing, and released him, if only so she could go to look at his hand. Her eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning, if the child’s eyes were as big as dinner plates and the child was drooling over something as simple as fingers. Sam wanted George to put a bullet in this thing’s head, to avoid the awkwardness of this situation. But no, he didn’t appear to be telepathic today, and she continued to stare.
“Uh…Can we…Help you?” George hazarded. Bad move. Her eyes, defying all sense and probably several laws of physics and biology, widened further, and she spoke again.
“More Humans!” She shouted joyously. She stood up on her hind legs and clapped her hooves together. The humans saw she was wearing a pair of jeans, which both found incredibly… Disturbing. She then remembered that she should probably introduce herself. “Hi! I’m Lyra! What are your names? What kind of names do humans have? What do humans eat? What are your oral care practices? What is your se-“
“LYRA!” Twilight shouted, startling her from her rapid-fire questioning. She backed away, ears folded down and an ashamed look on her face. George looked at Sam, with one question in his eyes: ‘Is she one of them?’ Sam shook his head quickly while Twilight was busy staring down the self-proclaimed ‘human enthusiast’. Sam gestured at Twilight and gave the thumbs up, hoping the message was not lost on his friend. She is. Lyra noticed the use of fingers and instantly perked up. George responded by lifting his left hand with all but the thumb extended. Four left.
“Well Twilight, we were just about to go get ourselves a snack, did you want anything? Oh, and before you say we can’t take it, where we come from, parties aren’t usually rated well by your peers if you can remember everything that happened.” Twilight let out a sigh and gestured for them to go upstairs. They winked at each other and bumped fists. Nothing can possibly go wrong.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Okay guys, that looks like a great place to end the chapter,” I said, clapping my hands. “It’s late, I need to practice for my English and learn how to walk in a skirt without stuffing up, and I’m going to the hospital tomorrow.”
“Do I even wa-“
“No,” Sam stopped George before he finished his question. “Knowing Jay, those things are unrelated but he just put them into the same sentence so they sound saner.”
“Not true,” I answered matter-of-factly. “I’m a female character for my English performance, so I decided it was a good idea. Anyway, if we go on, it won’t be cliff-hanger-y enough, and the cliff-hangers are sometimes the best bit.”
“But this isn’t really a cliff-hanger,” George pointed out. “Merely a great tipping point from which many different outcomes may-“
“Hush, George,” I interrupted rudely. “That’s my thing, and I need to learn how to say ‘not now, procrastinating’ in Japanese, so I can say that when people ask how my writing is going while I’m watching anime.”
“Have you finished H.O.T.D. yet?” Asked Sam.
“No, and that’s why I need to know this.” I replied. The sounds of foreheads hitting palms resounded through the Skype call. Repeatedly.
(Author's notes) Well, I'm doing this just after I made the blog post, so I only have to push the publish button when the time comes. I'll let Sam and George post their own notes in here from now on, if they want to. So yeah, that's it from me, and if you have musical talents, can you PLEASE help me make the song anything less than sensory rape?
(A note from George) Oh Come on, how can you blame me for this? Sam could have told you just as much!
(Author's notes) Don't care. Blaming you. So as always, GOODBYE, PEOPLEZ!