//------------------------------// // What Would You Do for a Bag of Apples? // Story: Becoming Rainbow Dash: A Tale of Two Worlds // by Freescript the Bard //------------------------------// <> Day One <> "Markus? It's eight in the morning, honey," my mom said, knocking on the wall from the entry. "You gotta get up and get showered. We're going to the reunion today." I snuggled deeper into the covers, giving a false cough. "I'm not feeling myself today, mom," I grumbled, hacking again. "Can I stay in bed? I don't want to get anyone else sick." "Oh Mark, your voice is all jumbled," she replied in a concerned tone. "Maybe I should check your temp–" "No!" I shouted, my wings straining against the sheets. "I-I mean, I don't want you to catch whatever I have… What I mean is… I just feel really bad and I don't want you to feel like this either." She sighed loudly. "Okay. If you need anything, I'm right here, alright?" "Thanks mom." I waited until I heard her footsteps going up the stairs. Then, throwing off the covers, I rolled off the bed, using my 'plot in the air' standing method to get to my hooves. I don't think I could handle another close call like that It had taken over three hours to salvage my sanity and crawl back into my bed. It didn't help at all that I was now smaller than the size of the average dog, except without fingers or thumbs. Yet the repair job to my shattered mind was still pretty haphazard, and I still found myself in a state of disbelief. I'm Rainbow Dash… I don't know how… I don't know why… but I'm Rainbow flipping Dash, was my first coherent thought. Had this been an object of my own doing, I would have been celebrating. But that's just it; the fact that I had no idea how any of this happened other than 'suddenly Rainbow Dash' bugged me to no extent. That, and the inevitable issue that I was now female. Oh dear god, that's creepy, I realized as the thought crept into my mind while I stood in my wide stance. Why?! I just had to be a mare didn't I? It couldn't have been Thunderlane or Big Mac… hell, I would settle for Doctor Whooves! But noooo! I had to be Rainbow Dash! In a fit of momentary rage I stomped my hoof, unbalancing me and casting me onto my side. I can't even stand right. I'm pathetic. I looked at the limbs I now had, fingerless and stumpy. Another terrifying thought occurred to me; without fingers, I couldn't type my story, or even do a blog post to tell my readers that my story wasn't going to be updated for however long this lasted. For buck's sake! I'm letting everyone down! Why am I so USELESS!? I was confused when this prospect bugged me more than it should have. The fact that I was leaving my followers hanging… that I was restricted by circumstance… I broke down crying, curling up and holding my rainbow-maned head between my hooves. What's wrong with me? Why do I feel so guilty? On the verge of becoming sick to my stomach, I tried to calm myself with controlled breathing, tears still wetting the cyan hair on my face. Whimpering slightly, I wished for it all to go away; for this to be a dream. But the throbbing feeling in my head, as a result of the sideways fall, told me that this was indeed reality. Abruptly, a gurgling sound drew my attention to my midsection. Well great, I'm disembodied, depressed, and hungry. I glanced around my room for any source of food. My secret stash of Goldfish was on top of the wardrobe… and unfortunately out of reach for Rainbow Dash's body. Glancing at my wings, I wished I knew how to fly so I could reach them. Other than that, there was no other food except for a half-eaten ham sandwich on my desk, and I don't think Rainbow Dash would appreciate it if I ate meat in her body. Which left only one option: the kitchen on the floor above. Time to learn how to walk like a pony. Using the same technique to stand, I mentally went through the animation for a walking pony. Right foreleg, left hind-leg, left foreleg, right hind-leg, repeat I drilled in my head. …wait, that sounds exactly like how a human infant crawls! With this revelation, I ran the drill once more before taking my first true step as a pony… …falling flat on my face four steps later. But I had immense satisfaction that it was my lack of balance, not terrible walking, that caused it. If only I had some way to spread out my center of balance, like a tight-rope walker… hang on a minute… I stood once again, a new idea in my head. Screwing my eyes shut, I concentrated on the muscles that caused my wings to twitch every few seconds. With great care, I extended the foreign limbs on my back, feeling their weight as it evened-out my center. Alright, pony walking, take two… ~+~+~+~ Walking as a hoofed quadruped? Easier than standing up as one. With my extended wings, I was able to complete four laps around the open area of my room without falling. Sure, I may have looked ridiculous and shaky, but at least I had mobility. Another loud yowl from my stomach reminded me of why I originally needed to act like a neck-injury patient. With a determined, Rainbow Dash worthy smile, I made my way over to the… …stairs. Schist. An amputee's worst nightmare, and my new adversary. I stared at the steps leading up to the ground floor, pondering how I could climb them. I could try moving up them like the ponies in the show, but I highly doubt that'll work with my stability. Maybe if I grip the railing… no, no thumbs. Schist. After five minutes of hunger-driven thinking, I decided on a sideways approach. Literally. Moving like a car into a parking spot, I paralleled my left side with the first step. In my mind, I thought I could put my left legs up first, followed by my right. Here goes… I technically made it up the first step. The problem was, when I brought my right legs up, there wasn't enough balance to keep me upright. So back down I went, sporting a new bump on my already abused head. "Damn it!" I yelled stomping in frustration. The resulting 'thump' startled my cat, who bolted past, going up the stairs as quick as running. Watching the orange blur, another inspiration hit me. Thanks again, you inspiring fuzzy alarm clock. My cat moved up the terraced incline as if she was still walking normally. So, in theory, I could mimic crawling up the stairs, like I would on the mornings I was too tired to stand. Round two, enemy of the wounded citizen, I silently challenged the stairs. I stood again and approached the stairs. With another smile, I took the first step… …and fourteen steps later, my hooves clopped down onto the wooden floor of the kitchen. It Keeps Happening? Not anymore. My confidence restored, I proceeded to my prize; the towering white refrigerator. Taking the dry towel that hung from the handle between my teeth, I yanked the door open, the light from the fridge shining down upon me like the rays of heaven. Luckily, the bag of apples were kept in the bottom-most drawer, so all it took was another bite-and-pull and the glorious fruits were all mine. Luna be praised, I've hit the jackpot! I decided that trying to fish one out of the plastic was a waste of time, so I simply took the whole bag, holding on to the top with my mouth. Before I left, I shut the drawer with my hoof and bumped the door closed with my hind-leg. I may be a pony, but I can still be civilized. As I turned to go back down to my room, I stopped. Not a sound was being made in the vacant house. Shrugging my shoulders, (an awkward feat for a pony) I figured that everyone left for the reunion while I was learning to walk. If they had been home, getting the apples would have been impossible. Trust me, hooves are flipping noisy on a hard surface. I smiled at my fortune, and continued on my way to my room. It wasn't until I was standing at the top of the steps did I realize a very disheartening fact. I had no idea how to go down. Well, schist.