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// Technology and its inadequacies 
// Story: From the Big Apple: A Tale of Misadventure and Affection 
// by Nurse Bedpan 
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“Before the end of this day… one shall stand…”

“And one shall fall… YOU! OPTIMUS PRIME!”

Man, it always gave you chills when you watched that scene. “I love the Decepticolts so much,” you silently say to yourself as you stood mesmerized by the tiny screen strapped to your hoof.

Technology is such a godsend – it lets you catch up on homework, talk to your friends over great distances, and even lets you indulge in your hobbies. The former was forgotten at this time, seeing as how you did them last Saturday. The latter two were the reason you stood here at Grand Central station in your hometown of Manehattan; or rather, the absence of one of those two.

Manehattan was pretty much how most everypony assumes it is – large, a little grimy here and there, and full of ponies who would just as soon hit you as they would look at you. Okay, technically that last part you kept saying because it gave the impression that you were a tough-as-nails Bronx colt – it was just that, well… big city living takes a toll on casual social interactions. Truth be told, most any “friendly meet-ups” only ever occurred out of necessity; that is, in school and at the workplace. Your parents always had stories about their friends – friends that they had met and kept starting from school and had entered the same line of work with them.

Grand Central Station was just as vast as the last time you had been here. Your brother offered to take you there via shortcut but you politely declined – the last time he tried to teleport you, your whole coat smelled of singed artichoke for weeks. Your sister could have flown you over, but you still remember what happened to Constable Weenie after she tried to remove him from that treetop he had grown enamored with.

Having such a diverse pony pedigree was enough to drive you crazy at times; for one thing, you could never be sure how family reunions would go. Would it be here at home, all the way over to the Fillypines, or even up above in Cloudsdale? Another personal setback was the uncertainty of your cutie mark. Your brother gained his after listening to Lamb of God for 15 hours straight; your sister, after repainting her entire room with nothing but her old grade school art supplies. Your parents didn’t really give much of a hint either: a rodeo clown and a doctor aren’t exactly what you’d call compatible (and yet here you are).

Now where were you? Oh, right – Grand Central Station. Spacious, made from marble, and full of the hustle and bustle of ponies moving to and fro. You had made it to the arrival platform after asking around from the local security guards and were now awaiting the 3rd arriving train: the one containing passengers from… “ ‘The Friendship Express?’ Really? What kind of town names their stuff like that? And ponies call me immature…” 

Watching the Autobucks and Decepticolts battle it out helped ease the knot forming in your gut as you waited for the Friendship Express (nnope – still sounds iffy) to come in. Fictional violence always did calm the nerves; for some reason though, it wasn’t enough this time.

You didn’t think she’d actually take up that country vacation so soon; it kind of put a damper on your summer plans together. Then again, Top Brass and Lemon Drops had taken it particularly far this year – following her all the way home, calling her “crybaby,” teasing her even as she ran to her big sister… 

“Sheesh, some ponies…”

Flicking quickly through your music player’screen, you settle on your hastily written plan to catch up on two weeks lost time. “Laser Tag at Carni’s Corner, followed by a visit to the newly opened theme park by Hasbrony, and then some camping over at the park.” It was foolproof – all the adventure and discovery you could have had since she was gone, condensed into 3 days. You couldn’t help feeling strange over your last proposal – you just felt that you needed to spend some quality time with her; Celestia knows how little you hung out after Top Brass started calling you “Queen Crybaby’s Loyal Retainer.”

All the hustle and bustle around you wasn’t enough to stop your train of thought; you barely notice the signs above your head announcing the trains’ imminent arrival. Tuning back to your show, you were immensely shocked when Megatron’s fusion cannon blasted your own face with a rush of air.

“DIE, AUTOBUCK!”

“WHOA!” you scream as you stumble back… across the yellow line that you were supposed to be staying behind in the first place. Ponies were either looking over suspiciously in contempt or just barely keeping their snickers from being heard. You wonder what a cutie mark in spacing out looks like as you attempt to shrink out of existence.

Your embarrassment was short-lived as the doors whoosh open to accommodate the outflowing of ponies. Some were wearing business suits, some in those garish Hawaiian polo shirts, and most were naked (naturally, you think) as they all traipsed out in that organized, robotic manner that all big city folk are wont to do. Yes, even the vacation crowd looked to be sobering up and sombering down for life in the Big Apple. 

Ponies, you suppose, rarely ever change. Your dad never did stop clowning around even when it was time to settle down; he also never did stop loving Mom. Mom kept on caring for him and the entire family, whether it was tucking you into bed or nagging you about staying out too late. Your siblings continued to butt heads even as they graduated from their respective schools and went on to find their own ways, they also made it a point to scare you out of wit’s end with their stories of puberty.


Your height makes it difficult to scan the crowds for your friend. You rear up on you hind legs and use your front hooves as a makeshift visor.  Her mane color was easy enough to spot – if it weren’t being subdued by a deluge of other colors.

“Come on, come on – where are you?”

“Ya look pretty silly there, ‘Super Spy’”

“GAH!”

The stumbling really has to stop, you mentally chastise yourself as you pick yourself back up from your pratfall. Craning your neck behind you, you make eye contact with a pair of bright green orbs. Eeyup – it’s her all right. She looks to be in high spirits, practically glowing, and… wearing a red cape?

“Hey, Seed. Welcome back to the Big Apple.”