//------------------------------// // Ch. 2: What Did the Grape Say When It Got Squished? // Story: Fill 'er up! Straight! // by TundraStanza //------------------------------// What Did the Grape Say When it Got Squished? --- It takes about a half hour before my breathing sounds a bit less forced and more like deep breaths. I have a hard time believing what I'm seeing here. I try raising my right eyebrow in disbelief. The pony in the mirror copies my action in real-time. I squint my eyes and lean in a bit closer. The image does the same thing. This is my reflection, but something in me still denies this undeniable fact. The side that is usually my logic and common sense makes itself rather vocal. "How the heck can I be a pony?" asks the woman in my throat, "For that matter, why Berry Punch?" I have nothing against this pony personally, but the fact that I turned into her and not one of the other characters from Friendship is Magic seems a bit too random. If people turning into ponies was a more commonplace event, I could just as easily have turned into one of the main six or one of the other side characters or even one of the Princesses. Why did I become Berry Punch? I shake my head to try to reset my focus. How did I turn into a cartoon pony in the first place? I ponder, Wait... what if I'm stuck like this? How will I go to work on Monday? How will I be able to do mundane tasks? How will I live? I slowly move my fists - er hooves - to massage my temples. Worrying about the future can wait. Right now, I need to figure out some more immediate answers. Luckily, the acetaminophen is kicking in and my hangover pain is starting to alleviate. Thinking is no longer a strenuous task. I close my eyes to concentrate. Okay, let's see. Last night... I think I recall... the bouncer kicking me out, I slowly retrace the events of yesterday evening, Then... I wandered. I...I somehow got home... but I don't remember which way I took exactly. Then, what happened before I fell asleep? I open my eyes as the last piece falls into place. I thought it was just a drunken hallucination, but... what if I really did see Berry Punch in the mirror? If I was already starting to look like her then... In lieu of a finger snap, I slap my hooves together. "That extra drink!" I exclaim, "There was something about that third mug that wasn't quite right. I didn't notice at the time because I was distracted by the ball game. But maybe..." I gallop out of my bedroom and up the hallway. Sliding slightly as I take a sharp turn, I head to my makeshift cellar a.k.a. my garage. There is one particular bottle I was saving for a special visit. Now, however, it must be used in this emergency. I hastily grab the neck of the bottle in between my teeth and head back inside the house. "If drinking excessively got me into this," I reason, "Then returning to my strict policy of one or two should reverse the phenomenon, right?" Wouldn't it make more sense to return to the bar then and fix the problem there? my mind finds the plothole to my idea. "I can't exactly go out in public like this," reasons Berry Punch's voice, "This is the next best thing." Well, all right. If you're sure, I mentally shrug. The cork comes out of the top of the champagne bottle without a fuss. I find it kind of unsettling that my pony teeth can accomplish in less than 15 seconds what a corkscrew takes at least one minute to do. But for all I know, Berry Punch's talent revolves around breweries. She probably has a knack for dealing with all sorts of bottles. Briefly, I think that doesn't quite explain the strawberry part of her cutie mark. That discrepancy is soon forgotten as I use both stubby excuses for hands to lift the bottle up and take a small swig. There's only one problem. My small swig isn't as small as I first assumed. I shake the wine bottle after pulling it away from my mouth. There isn't exactly any liquid splashing around inside the bottle, except for a few small drops. "How much can she pack away?" I wonder rhetorically. My answer comes in the form of the room spinning around me. I guess she can't hold a whole bottle very well. Neither can I, but that's a moot point now. I am fully aware that my hooves are moving sideways and threatening to destroy any sense of balance I had this morning. I take a look at my right hoof. I'm having trouble seeing it as it starts turning transparent. "H-hey," I slur, "Th-that means-s mry hand mill come back soon, right?" My eyes are forced shut and I hit a tile-covered wall. --- "Is she dead?" Light is blurred in my vision as I struggle to lift my heavy eyelids. The colors look a bit different from my bedroom. I guess that's a little progress. There is a also a distinct lack of a hangover headache. I'm not sure how that's possible after drinking a full bottle of white wine. "No, wait! She moved!" Where is that voice coming from? I wonder silently. I try to move my head to look at the source, but the various colors of light are still too blurry for me to make anything out. "Who are you?" While my hearing is just fine, my reaction time is still a little hazy and slow. I blink away the blurriness as I reach up a... whatever limb I have now... to wipe away a drool drip. As I blink a couple more times, the colors take on more distinct shapes. I can finally tell what I'm looking at. Though, the victory I feel is short-lived. "Holy crap!" I shout to the heavens. I try to shuffle back in shock but I'm already sitting down. I only succeed in causing my hooves to slightly burn from friction. The two ponies that are looking at me show signs of confusion and concern. The smaller, light-colored pony looks at the larger one before turning back to me. She takes a cautious step forward. "Excuse me, Miss?" she addresses me, "Are you okay?" "Oh, yeah. Just fine," I throw up my hooves in sarcasm, "I've only lost my mind and turned into a pony and quite possibly entered Equestria without any explanation. That's all!" It's about this time that I realize that I'm yelling at an innocent child... even if she's an addition to my hallucination. "Oh, uh," I lower my hooves and my voice, "I'm sorry, little one. I didn't mean to get mad at you." "Don't worry about it," she calmly dismisses my outburst while shaking her head, "Maybe we should start over. Hi, I'm Piña Colada. What's your name?" "I'm Berry Punch," I say automatically. What? my mind disagrees, No, I'm Miles. Why did I say that? The third pony in the room has a similar disagreement. It's apparent on her serious frown. "Oh, yeah?" she asks, "If that's true, then who am I?" She has the same pitch of voice that I currently have. Now that I'm looking at her more thoroughly, she has the two shades of purple for her coat and mane that I have. I can see what is happening right now, but I don't believe it. "Sis, what's going on?" chirps Piña Colada, "Why does she have your name?" The pony I'm looking at... is the genuine article, Berry Punch. "What the heck?" I whisper. The convenient opening of the door behind her is convenient. An orange-maned pony walks in and is talking before she fully sees who is inside. "Hey, Berry, I was wondering if you had-," she immediately pauses. She looks at the other Berry Punch, then at me, and back at the other one. Carrot Top's eyes open wide as her pupils dilate. This is either really awkward or really bad. "Changeling!" Carrot Top screams before running out the door that she opened. Really bad it is then, I think before adding a sarcastic, Wonderful. It's barely a minute later as two golden-armored ponies gallop in to storm the place. I didn't even think Ponyville had Royal Guards. That thought is moot, however, as one of the guards tackles me and forces my hooves into an uncomfortable cramping position. "You have the right to remain silent!" he declares, "Anything you say can and will be used against you in court." They follow police procedure? I skeptically think, I thought this was a dual-monarchy, not a democracy. "Hey, let me go!" yelps the other Berry Punch. Wait, why are they arresting her? I'm the fake one. I can't see her because the guard on top of me is pressing my face against the floor. This isn't fun at all. "Quiet!" barks the other guard, "We're not taking any chances." What have I gotten myself into? I worry as I feel myself being dragged along the floor. "Big Sis!" cries Piña Colada as two Berry Punches are taken away. --- ~I'm breaking rocks in the hot sun. I fought the law and the law won. I fought the law and the law won.~ --- I stand in this small, black-barred cage as I await whatever judgment comes to pass. It has about the amount of light that one would expect from a room illuminated by a small window's worth of daylight. I make a promise to myself that if I ever ask for more than one refill of ale again, I'm going to slap myself so hard that I'll still feel the pain of that slap ten years later. "Now look what you've gotten us into!" torments the Berry Punch in the standing cage next to me. I don't try to deny her right to be angry. This is my hallucination after all. She's only suffering because I'm imagining that... and I hate whatever sadistic part of my mind wants to see background ponies suffer. No sentient being deserves to be falsely accused regardless if they are genuine or fabricated. She shouldn't be in here, I think, I'm the irresponsible drinker. Don't drag her down with me, universe. A sliding clang interrupts Berry Punch's rant and we both look to what made the noise. A pony-shaped shadow can be seen in the frame of the light from that doorway. The room is then made slightly brighter by some magenta light. The shadow shrinks as the caster approaches the cage that I am in. Twilight Sparkle, I acknowledge. On any other day, I would be jumping up and down, wetting my pants, and asking for an autograph (not necessarily in that order). Today, however, I am a prisoner. My sense of excitement is dulled by the impending sentence that the master of magic is bound to place on me. I just know something terrible is about to happen. Twilight Sparkle pulls out a scroll and unrolls it. She reads it as if it were legal procedure (which it probably is). "By decree of her royal highness Princess Celestia of Equestria, all suspected changeling activity must be quarantined and scanned. I, Twilight Sparkle, hereby take full responsibility of the magical scanning today. Any sign of the subjects being suspicious must be reported to the higher ups for specific sentencing." She rolls up the scroll and returns it to the small bag beside her. "In other words," she states, "Whoever is the one wearing the disguise is sure to face a life of torture." This show is for little girls? I squinch my face in an expression of being disturbed. "What are you waiting for then?" asks the real Berry Punch, "Send this bug on its way and let me out!" "She's right," I sigh, "I'm the faker. Don't make her suffer for my misdeed." "I'll be the judge of that," retorts Twilight as her horn glows a distinct purple instead of its usual magenta. She moves directly in front of me. I have no idea what the spell is supposed to be doing. I close my eyes and wait for the end. "Nothing out of the ordinary here," she mutters. Huh? I open my eyes and look up, But, I didn't even feel anything. Did she even cast her spell? But Twilight is already moving on to the next cage. Her horn's purple glow starts to flow at Berry Punch. The caged pony starts shivering and holds her head. She whimpers like she's suffering pain. This can't be the same spell that Twilight used on me. How can I be scot-free when the original is taking the hit? A bright light emerges from her forehead and I have to cover my eyes against the blinding flash. The flash fades and I cautiously lower my hoof to take a peak. I am shocked to see the other prisoner. Twilight appears just as shocked as I am. The pony in the other cage is... Berry Punch. But it's not Berry Punch. It clearly has a unicorn's horn and a slightly paler coat than Berry Punch. But it is her, because she has the same mane cut and cutie mark. A resigned frown and closed eyes make up her face at the moment. In a slightly less blinding flash, the pony that I see vanishes. "B-Berryshine?" I whisper breathlessly, but she's already gone. Meanwhile, Twilight Sparkle is doing her impression of a short-circuiting Sweetie Bot. Only her impression sounds more like various, unfinished English phrases rather than sparks and sizzles. But I still make the connection in my mind. Eventually, she finishes by letting out a frustrated sigh and starts walking away. "I've got to find her," she decides, "I don't know how and I don't know where to start, but I have to find her." "Hey, what about me?" I call her. She pauses and looks back at me blankly. "I'm kind of still trapped in a cage," I point out. "Oh, right," she smiles sheepishly. Her magenta glow floats a key over toward the bars and undoes the lock. The cage door opens outward and I exit. For now, I decide to follow Twilight out of this prison area. As far as the Berryshine situation, I only have one thought. What. The. Heck?