//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 : Fixing The 'Problem' // Story: My Little Marriage : Mary is a Mare // by MerlosTheMad //------------------------------// The permanent marker raised up and went down rhythmically; it clicked the keys one at a time this way, and in painfully slow fashion. Mary sought answers now, and forced herself to ignore the worries ebbing from deep within her mind. Most of them said that there may not be any answers to even be found. She was determined to press on though. At first, Mary had tried to click the keys with a pencil wedged between her hooves. Getting the pencil to roll to the side of the desk where she could pick it up, had been a quest in itself. The pencil, however, and the hoof method of typing weren't cutting it. The annoyingly wobbly chair didn't let her stray from it's seat much besides that, and wasn't helping any in the least. To her surprise, she discovered an unlikely new method of typing, one that didn't make use of the useless blocks that had replaced her dextrous hands. While leaning onto the desk for stability she had hit a key with the pencil's replacement. Then she hit another, the marker typing deftly from her mouth. This works pretty well, actually. It was still slow, but it felt better and a little natural. Her head leaned lazily on one upturned hoof as she typed away. She tried not to think about how her legs were just as, if not more flexible than her arms had been before. It helped cope though, at least, thinking about the similarities. Alright, time to figure out just what kind of freaky farm animal I've been turned into. Mary decided blunt was best in this situation, she typed in randomly turning into a horse, into Google. "In all honestly, I expected about as much," she said in a dark tone to herself. The screen had several links, all of which obviously wouldn't offer her any help. There were Youtube links, something about Shrek, a link pertaining to The Sims, and several others. The pictures tab showed, also obviously, pictures of horses, and strangely what she hoped was a Photoshopped image of a man riding atop a giant rooster/horse hybrid... Although she wasn't really sure if it was, given present circumstances. She scrolled through a few more of the pictures section, one struck her as very odd. There was a white and yellow horse with wings that was bordered with a black background in the picture. It was just a drawing, though. Mary sighed and moved the mouse over to another tab, then searched for something a bit more specific, and scientific. Being vague hadn't shown her anything useful, just weird stuff. This search didn't yield any answers either, though. Ideally, she had hoped for a link leading to a college research page, or some health warning site. Maybe she could search for those specifically next... But this particular attempt just turned up what appeared to be fictional writing, and icons of what she guessed were horse burgers from the scandal in Europe. As well as, of course, more unhelpful pictures of horses. Navigating this stuff was slow, but Mary decided to keep it up a little longer, maybe at least search a medical site or two. Briefly, she searched through a few indexes of known diseases and afflictions. Anything in reference to what she sought came up empty, even in amongst the animal viruses. I should have expected as much... This just doesn't make any sense! Am I the first case of something like this ever happening? Are all the legends and myths and mad science we've made up just fake, except for me? She stared at the screen after having searched for two hours, defeated. Or... Have things just been kept secret really well, and for a long time. Am I really alone in this? Mary didn't believe in conspiracy, at all. Obviously, the government had copious shady dealings... But, it didn't matter she supposed. The internet is the only possible source of answers I have... Frowning, Mary blinked and retraced her last thought. The only source I have... magic and legends... Oh, right... She groaned to herself over what she was going to do next. Her eyes looked out across the house towards her goal in the dining room, another phone. Looks like I'm calling Marge... The idea already filled her with a sense of dread. Getting down from the chair was easy, she just turned it with one hoof and plopped out, onto the floor. I can't really be considering this, can I? Marge wasn't a bad person by any means, she was simply... a tad eccentric, and maybe not all there. That and the thought of asking about the supernatural in earnest, even under the circumstances was just... unsettling. As if there were an invisible wall in front of her, Mary suddenly stopped. Her head craned ever so slowly to the right. The door to the bathroom stood there. She'd seen herself for the first time as she was in that room. You can't hold an aversion to bathrooms, Mary... She was aware she had to go, however. It can wait... A few more steps and she was at the kitchen and away from the risky venture. After a moment's hesitation while pausing at the kitchen doorway, she attempted to stand, using it as support. She managed to walk up it with her front legs easily. Margaret dropped the last of the canned food into her Gila Monster's cage, then closed the top. "Aww, I swear you get cuter every time I see you, Francis." The reptile ignored her while devouring the food, except for a swipe of its tail behind it. A timer buzzed behind Marge. Oh! Chili's ready. The sounds of animals in the atrium-like room buzzed around her, as she made her way to the kitchen. Humming the tune to 'The Nightmare Before Christmas', she made her way over to the stove. She'd always loved that movie, ever since high school. "Mitch! Foooooood's reaaaaady!" she sang cheerfully into the living room. Her husband didn't call back to her. Hm? Now that isn't like him, that man wouldn't miss lunch for the world. Where is he? Upon her inspection she found the TV was still on. It was boringly turned to the history channel. She huffed and crossed the small home to the garage door, and peered into her husband's workshop, which was bigger than the rest of the house combined. "Hey, gear head, food's done!" Her finger prodded the prone man in his stomach. Mitch's head rolled out from under the raised car along with the rest of him. With one hand he took off the pair of headphones clasped to his head. "Sorry, what'd yah say Marge?" he asked, wiping one greasy arm across his brow. "Chili, it's done, yummy yummy come put it in your tummy. Or I'm feeding it to Francis instead, you jerk." Marge rested on the hood of the car and looked down at him with one raised eyebrow. "Gah! Don't lean on that! Or give away my food, I earned that." The older woman began thinking of a retort, when the phone rang suddenly. "Ooh, who could that be." Margaret said casually, while Mitch picked himself up off the ground and dusted off his motor oil stained overalls. "I'll get iiit!" She continued in her usual, oddly cheerful demeanor. The phone bounced off the mechanic's garage cradle and into her hand deftly. "Hello?" "If it's a telemarketer, just hang up!" Marge rolled her eyes—Mitch had said that every time they got a call, and had for the last decade without fail. She strained to hear what had been said over the phone, the person on the other end was garbled. "Yes, Mitch, I know. Go eat, my threat still stands. Hello? Could you speak up please?" Mary's voice finally came through the line to reach her ears. "Sorry, I forgot to put it on speaker... Uhm, hi Marge! It's me, uhm, wow, it's actually great to hear your voice, I mean... Not that it wouldn't be I've just been..." A bit of an awkward silence ensued. Huh, now when was the last time Mary called me, and not vice versa? Oh well! She grinned to herself, being more curious and happy than confused at hearing her acquaintance's voice. "It is? Well that's great! Did you want to join our little chanting coven after all? Oh, or is this about the star rea-" Groaning, but not so loudly that she could hear, Mary cut her off from the other end of the line. "No! No, it isn't about... any of that, Marge." Mary glanced down at herself, it was bizarre speaking to another person... looking as she did. Even like this where she wasn't face to face with them. Thankfully this was just on the telephone, she looked back up at the speaker hanging from the kitchen doorway. "It's just... nice to talk to a friend is all." She cleared her throat and sighed, the atmosphere of the conversation felt about as awkward as it could get for her. Like a clown accidentally walking into a funeral... "Oh certainly, certainly, isn't it just? Did you just want to talk, Mary?" A toolbox made its way next to the work table with the phone at Marge's bidding. Sitting down, she leaned her back against the desk. She was getting an old, familiar feeling, like she was speaking to someone in dire need. The house wife on the other end sounded distressed, nervous, worried, and above all, confused. I wonder what she's trying to cook this time? My guess is... soufflé. "Uhm, yeah... yeah, I kind of do, Marge," Mary really wasn't sure what to ask now, she'd hoped to ask the question after some casual banter and chit chat, hopefully making it seem like an idle curiosity about her Wicca or something. It was like she'd forgotten how to talk though. Her throat felt welded shut, and her thoughts wouldn't form into words that could even half decently pass for subtle. Instead, her mind just kept wandering. She has no idea I look like this, what would Marge do if she did? Actually, Marge would probably try to pen me up and make me a pet... She shuddered at the thought. Still, at this juncture, she could only banish the creepy ideas, and try her best. "Well, whatever about, girl? Go on, spit it out." Margaret twirled her blonde, slightly greying ponytail as she spoke. Mary took a deep breath, resolving to simply plow forward. "Is... is the whole Wicca thing real? Like is magic real? Have you ever really seen anything?" That was vague enough to be safe, she decided. Marge's eyebrows shifted in surprise, she looked around the garage as if searching for an answer. What brought this on? she wondered. "Uhm, well... I dunno, it's as real as any belief structure, Mary." It wasn't taken seriously by most people, Marge knew that, skeptics and the mainstream just ridiculed it most of the time. Although, to her, it wasn't any more unbelievable than any other religion. Mary verbally struck back at her dodge. "That isn't what I meant Margaret, level with me here! Is it real, or not? In the seeing, touching, tasting sense of the word real." The woman on the other end of the line was curious now. "Whyyy do you wanna know?" Margaret was leaning forward on her knees now, a predatory look on her face. Do I detect a convert? Whee! The tone her friend used was a little unsettling, but she didn't want to back off now. "...I might be cursed." Mary kind of regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. The other end of the line was pure, hysterical laughter. "I'm serious! Margaret... Marge." Mary scowled and pressed her hooves against her head when it only continued. "KNOCK IT OFF!" The laughter from the wall bound phone slowly settled down. "Sorry, Mary," she continued to chuckle. "I just never thought I'd hear those words come out of the biggest skeptic I've ever met, is all. Well, why do you think you're cursed?" Mary hadn't been sure if Marge would be any help, now she was almost positive she wouldn't be. "I guess you don't think it's real then. Never mind, sorry for bothering you." Mary began the laborious effort of standing to hit the phone's thankfully wide off button. She was getting better at standing though. Mary paused when the older woman's voice came through again. "Nono! I'm sorry! It isn't real," Marge continued, "not from what I've seen, at least. It's just fun, and it's something to believe in, which I do. But, in the way you're talking about it, it doesn't exist, not that I've seen at least. Took a few dozen scams for me to learn, too... But, I've been around long enough now to know the difference, I think... Being at it so long though, why quit now, right?" she asked rhetorically. The work desk and the floor vibrated with her tapping them both in tandem. She got nervous when speaking seriously, and she'd never said that to anyone else. But, Mary was just a little special to her. "Anyway... Is this about all the bad luck you've had lately? Mitch told me about your truck breaking down, even though it checked out to be perfectly fine. What's happened that has you so curious?" Mary grimaced at the hoof she'd stretched towards the phone to hang it up, then lowered it and herself to the floor again. She decided to keep talking. "...Honestly Marge, I can't tell you, I just... Just don't tell anyone else about this call alright!? I'm... confused right now." The line was quiet a moment before an answer came. "It isn't really drugs, is it?" Marge said quietly. Mary would have clenched her fists if she still had them. Instead, she swiped one sweater covered foreleg up at the phone and her face twisted in anger. "For the—" Mary clenched her eyes shut and regained composure, then spoke again, calmly. "For the love of everything... it isn't drugs! I'm getting sick of hearing about that! From everyone, especially Stan telling me about others saying it. How does hair color even start that rumor up again? Augh, no, just listen, I'm... I'm... Darnit. Look, could you do me a huge favor, and just research curses and maybe them actually happening?" Marge didn't mind helping, it was an odd request though. Made odder by her friend's behavior. "Sssure. What about, though? You don't really think you're cursed, do you? You didn't answer my question is all... What's happened? Don't tell me the curse won't let you say. That'd be horribly cliche of that curse, you knooOoow." She sang out the last word rather than just saying it. "...I know I'm cursed, Marge. Also, no, I just... I gotta keep this a secret until it's fixed..." Mary didn't want to say as long as possible. "I trust you though, okay? So please take this seriously, please keep it confidential, and above all please don't ask what it is!" Mary sighed and rested her head against the wall, looking up at the phone cradle from beneath it. "As for what it pertains to... Look for changing or swapping bodies." Mary wanted to give her information to help a search, but didn't want to clue her in about the what. That was the best she could do, she guessed. Absently, Mary squirmed and stood up on all fours as her anxiousness built. "I know what you're going to ask, but just don't." "Well, okay. Yeah, I'd love to help out then. But, Mary... well now I'm curious! What is it? Are you sure this isn't a prank? I still remember when Herbert—" "Marge, I'm sorry, but I gotta go! Call back if you find anything scientific and real, okay? Byebyebye and thanks!" Mary fumbled with the phone for a moment, a curse forming on her tongue before she finally managed to end the call. "Thank goodness that's over with. Could I get any more awkward? Stupid, stupid, you're stupid, Mary." She clunked a hoof against her forehead—though softly—to emphasize her feelings. Mary carefully reached over her head and hung the phone back up where it belonged on the wall then exhaled and slumped against the wall; there were plenty of times in her life when she had been grateful to end of conversation with someone, but since her change it seemed like she had that feeling with just about everyone. She also had a feeling of something like guilt from evading further conversation with arguably her only friend in town, and after she had asked a favor of her, too. Mary stood there a moment, thinking about any repercussions her desperate requests for help might cause. No, Marge won't be any trouble... as long as this stays on the phone, anyway. I don't want to think about what would happen if she actually saw me! Still thinking, she absently began trotting towards the first floor's facilities. I wonder if she'll actually find something? Mary put on a slight frown at the thought. What if she actually does find something, and it's really bad? Or, what if this is something top secret that could get traced to her and then to me and— Mary's chain of panicked thoughts stopped as she found herself faced with a more pressing issue: how to open doors. "Oh, come on! Who left the restroom door shut?" She groaned, unsure how to open it easily. She had opened one before, yes, but she could scarcely remember how. Mary groaned, her legs wrapped around the door knob in desperation as she grappled with it. They slid off and her legs—covered by her sweater—gave no result. "For Pete's sake! Open!" Mary leaned back, then slammed her hoof into the knob head on, turning it ferociously. The door knob, surprisingly, turned and clicked! The effort had been quite easy, too, actually. Mary stared at her hoof as she walked into the restroom. "How on earth did I do that?" It had kinda felt like the doorknob had just... don't what she wanted and turned with her hoof, but that was crazy. In Mary's confusion, she forgot another logistical issue, and came to a confused stop before the toilet itself. Oh, right. So, in this body... How. Do. I. Use. It? For that matter, how would anyone expect to while wearing pants on a body like this? It was a stupid thought, she knew, seeing as she was in an animal's body. Obviously they don't wear clothes except maybe for Halloween when their owners force them to. The unbidden thought of herself in a bumble bee costume made her wince; it was getting impossible for her to take herself seriously anymore. "There, got it, now— Ah!" With a cry of surprise, Mary tripped over the leg of her shorts and landed face first on the floor. Shuddering, she slowly pushed herself up onto her elbows. Still staring at the floor, she proceeded to let out the biggest sigh she'd made yet in her life. The bathroom door creaked open, and Mary stepped out into the dining room pathetically. That was easily... my least favorite life experience... of all time. She hadn't bothered with the underwear when redressing, this time, it had crimped her tail and made it sore. I'll have to sew holes in all my... how am I gonna sew!? Without warning, the raucous sound of the phone beeping from being left on the line filled the room and Mary's ears. She had been completely oblivious to it amidst her thoughts. "Augh!" "It's not all that bad though Mary! At least washing hooves is easier than washing your hands!" She chortled while grinning maniacally, before resetting her expression to flatness. The phone being off the hook filled the house with its infernal beeping, Mary quickly approached the cursed device and managed to get the phone back on its hook. The sound cut off immediately, thrusting the rooms back into blissful silence. Mary was getting better at standing up, it had been a simple matter of pushing up with her front hooves and using her weight to counter balance the momentum, while flexing with her back. The ease with which she pulled it off to hang up the phone, pressing the button, actually put a smile on her face. Standing still was another problem though. After only a few seconds she wobbled and fell back forward, her hooves impacting the wood floor with a thud. "Easy come Mary, easy go... well, what now." The dining room was pretty cluttered, she noticed. Maybe I should just clean up around the house, I'm almost certain Bobby's room is a wreck... The sound of a door opening and slamming shut caused her to freeze where she stood. Her chest tightened, and her mind ejected all cognoscente thought out of pure undulating terror. The instinct and need to stay hidden just wasn't innate enough for her, the pony stood stark still for several more seconds without attempting to flee. AAH! I gotta hide! she managed to think. Immediately, she looked around, the only place to go was the kitchen though! She could already hear footsteps coming from the back of the house towards her! "Hellooooo! I'm here! I brought your favorite! Who wants a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiiich." It was Agnes, her mother-in-law. "MOM!?" Mary shouted in terror, already she was jumping through the kitchen doorway. There was nowhere to go, it was a dead end. She spotted a cupboard and began opening it. Openopenopen! "Oh, you're up and about, shouldn't you be resting? Or are you playing hooky? I knew Bobby got it from your side of the family! Hah, how are you feeling Mary?" Her mom was in the dining room now, every second Mary could hear her getting closer. The cupboard finally banged against the wall harshly, her hooves managing to pull the door out and open by its sides. "Mary?" Agnes called out again. The cupboard was the one filled with pots and pans! Dangit! Mary scooped her arms into the stacks of metal cookware, tossing them out behind her in a clanging heap. "What's going on in there!? Are you okay?" Agnes called out once again. "M-mom! Please don't come in here! Please!" It was too late, Mary looked behind herself. Everything seemed to happen at once. "What are you talking about, what's wro- AAAA-aah? AH!? OH MY G- W-what are you!?" Cried out Agnes, the bags she had carried in fell onto the kitchen tile, and she half recoiled behind the counter top. At the same time Mary screamed, "NO! DON'T LOOK!" Her hooves flew over her head, and she hid as best she could beneath them. Half of her body was in the cupboard, but with the remaining articles still within, this was as far as she could go. Mrs. Morris, senior, wasn't sure what to make of the sight before her, it was a furry little orange animal, the size of a big dog. It seemed to be trying to force its way into the space under the counter. Pots lay everywhere. Mary was no where to be seen. Her voice was present though, and coming from the creature. It shook uncontrollably, after watching for just another moment, it became clear that it was crying. So, Agnes did the only logical thing that came to mind. "Oh wow, I never thought I would ACTUALLY end up on television! Oh my gosh, is Herbert watching right now? Where's the cameraaaa, hah!" She looked around the immediate vicinity giggling as though she were a school girl. "Oh, darnit I dropped Mary's sandwich." The bags were just full of some random things for a cold. The paper bag containing the sandwich was deposited onto the counter. "Mary? Are you in here? You may all come out now, I think you overdid it with this one!" Still laughing, she kept looking around for signs of anyone. No one came though, a clatter banged under the sink. The strange looking animal with hooves was gone. Mary curled into a ball as best she could. "Thisisn'treal,itisn'treal,thisiscompletelyandtotallynotreal." Her mind just wasn't ready to handle this. It could've been anyone to come in that backdoor, and her mind knew that. The thought of a stranger seeing her was terrifying. In her head, worries she'd been ignoring played out through her. Government experiment? I don't want to go away! The door beside her opened up a crack, and her mother's head was on the other side. "Noooo, it's not fair... just go away." Mary whined and gasped out a sigh. Her body tensed as Agnes just kept watching her. Then... Mary just relaxed, and sat there. Her head hung limply to one side. It's best to just ride this thing out and get it over with... Strangely, no exclamation of horror, or even words came from Agnes. Mary wasn't going to be the first to make a move though, she didn't care anyway... On impulse, she listlessly looked over at the older woman, it felt like she was wearing the most pathetic heart wrenching face she'd ever put on. "Mary," Agnes said calmly. "when your mother told you you could be anything you wanted when you grew up, I don't think she meant a pony." Mary's mouth dropped open. "You're JOKING about this? Seriously? You think this is funny!?" She exploded out of the cupboard. Or tried to, her legs caught the sides and she tumbled out, instead. Landing nearly knocked the wind out of her. Agnes' hands moved from the top of her head to her mouth to her cheek and back as she spoke. "Hey easy, uhm, Mary. Is that really you? Oh my-, this is real? Is that really you, Mary? It sounds like you. It is you isn't it? This isn't some new fangled trick with a bunch of mirrors? Oh, if this isn't real, then I must look like the biggest doof ever right now. I knew I should've kept up with those magazines Herbert kept getting me-" Agnes finally kept her hand over her mouth and stared in awe at her daughter, who abruptly interrupted her tirade angrily. "YES! YES, it's real! I'm a freak, I don't know how, or why. But I'm a horse now, go figure! If I had to compare this to some of the most unexpected things ever happening in the entire world, it would be somewhere between Stan making the first move on our first date and dad being serious during our entire wedding! Do you believe that this is me NOW mom? HUH!?" Her lungs worked to suck in enough oxygen to make up for the yelling rant. "...Mary? It is you, why-" Agnes began asking questions, and the like. Mary didn't hear a word of what Agnes went on to say, she was seething already. The outburst had caused her to stop and think though, she had done all this before, and she had just yelled at Stan's mother in anger. My life is so out of control. "-ary? What happened? Are you alright? We should get you to a doctor, or... maybe not, actually..." Agnes was picking up on her daughter's mood, which was understandable to her, she guessed. The situation was slowly coming into focus. Mary was glaring up at her now. "Dear? What's wrong?" She stretched out a hand to Mary. The pony's hoof suddenly swatted away the hand which Agnes had stretched out. "What's wrong?" Mary asked acidly, and in a mocking tone. "What's wrong is I'm in the middle of a crisis, and you're cracking jokes..." Talking about it just brought emotion, and emotion brought tears. "I'm not gonna cry again, I'm not!" she whispered to herself weakly. "I'm sorry, how should I react to this," Agnes' hands spread wide at her sides, emphasizing her confusion... "I don't even know! You really aren't sure what did this? Oh..." This was a lot to take in, she reached for one of the kitchen table's seats. "I need to sit down..." The chair creaked as she sat, but it was an improvement over standing. Agnes looked up in time to see the pale orange pony trotting out of the kitchen, away from her. "M-Mary? Dear, come back, just where are you going?" The pony had Mary's hair color too, she realized. It truly is her. Mary's heated voice flew back at Agnes. "To stay in my room, I want to be alone, preferably until this blows over or..." Mary trailed off as she kept her curious four legged walk going. "MARY!" Her daughter-in-law stopped cold in her tracks, and turned her head to look over her shoulder at the source of the snapping voice. The tail she now seemed to have that matched her hair, flicking rapidly in the air. Agnes scowled at her. "Come back here, right now. Hiding... hiding from your problems won't make them go away, eventually they find you. I don't know what this one is all about, but talk to me; you owe me, Ms. I'm-going-to-yell-at-Grandma." Mary chewed on the inside of her lip and tensed with every word. Agnes was right of course; Mary knew she was right, but the mood Mary was in didn't want to admit that she was right. "Also, if you don't come back here, your sandwich is going to get cold." The smile Agnes gave the mare didn't hold a trace of insult or mockery. It was warm and inviting. The act wasn't easy, but Mary turned herself around to face her, although what she really wanted to do was stand up. It wasn't comfortable for her to walk like this, not on the inside. It made the journey back into the kitchen all the longer and more tiring, but she made it. Agnes stared at her sagely the whole way. Mary looked up at her mother sitting in the chair, her hands folded in her lap, and couldn't hold it any longer. It was an awkward position, but she fell into on Agnes' lap all the same, she didn't care. Mary cried harder than she'd ever done so before. Tears from the day before had been long and drawn out, but these were hysterical. Agnes smoothed the matted hair adorning Mary's technicolor head, frowning. "Dear, you're a big girl. You're a grown woman, you're stronger than this." Agnes spoke matter of factly in a flat tone. "No, you're wrong I'm- I'm not even me anymore!" "Mary..." Agnes began darkly. "Shutup and listen to me. That isn't true, not in the least bit. You're the same still, alright? No one was ever treated different rightfully, just for looking apart from everyone else. As long as you have your family to help you, you never will be treated wrongly, either." The older woman sighed and looked down at Mary, her huge eyes were green now, strangely, and glistened with tears. "Now tell me already, everything that has happened, from the beginning." Somewhere, not so far, far away, Herbert felt a disturbance in the force. "Huh?" His eyes searched around the greenery of his establishment and home. Nothing there... What was... A shudder ran through him, he got up and set down his tools quickly. "I gotta stop using so much dang hot sauce." He sauntered off at a quick pace for the lavatory. Mary had felt like she had shared a life story. It hadn't even been two days yet, though. Agnes stared off towards the far wall, behind Mary. Two cups of fresh brewed coffee steamed and sat untouched on the dining room table. Mary held hers between her hooves, despite the heat. "I wish you had both told me right away, Mary..." Agnes looked at her peculiarly shaped relative with worry. "I'm glad you're alright though." Mary shifted the coffee on the table absently, staring into its depths. She had the urge to denounce that statement. "I'm sorry we didn't... Besides telling you I was sick, we didn't even think about you... and I'm glad I'm safe too, mom." But she didn't denounce anything, in truth, she felt a lot better now. Almost kinda like the worst of it was over. She was still a whatever it was that she was, though... It was almost maddening, oddly enough her grip on things was solid. Agnes always has been a great anchor though, guess she'd have to be to keep the likes of the boys in check all these years... Agnes nodded to herself, and shared Mary's stare into the coffee which she held. "Well that's all in the past. Just remember Mary, no matter what the future holds, you're still here with us, and that's what matters." She gave Mary a warm smile, then took a sip from her coffee. Mary on the other hand saw a flaw with her philosophy. She jumped into a full speed retort. "What if I'm not here anymore though, mom! What if this kills me! Or I'm turned into a sideshow attraction, what if the governme-?" Her hooves pushed her up on the table as she spoke, until Agnes put a stop to it and spoke over her. "What if a giant meteor careens out of the sky and kills me faster than I can blink!?" She stared back wide eyed and pursing her lips in a mocking expression. "Hm? What then? What if Genghis Khan conquers America from beyond the grave and enslaves everyone!?" Mary exhaled and leaned back in the chair. "I'm talking about things in the realm of plausibility mom! Stuff that could actually HAPPEN!" Mary glared over at her from her seat across the table. "Oooh, okay. Possible stuff only huh, you mean like say, turning into a bright and colorful miniature horse? Hm?" She raised her eyebrows as high as they would go and stared down her daughter-in-law smartly. Dang... Mary thought, surprised. She really shouldn't be however, she supposed. Score one point to mom... "Alright... You've made your point, but what can we do. I don't want to stay like this Agnes, I can't stay like this! The kids don't know yet, I mean-" Mary was interrupted by a mild slapping sound. Agnes had facepalmed, then took a deep breath which spoke of impatience. "Girl, you are running around in circles at a hockey rink expecting to find a spot where you won't slip and fall on your arse." Mary flinched from her mother-in-law's tone, her ears bent back onto her head without her realizing it. Agnes continued. "This isn't about the kids, Robert and Annalise will be just fine. From the sounds of it, Stan said about as much to you already, Mary." She gave Mary a concerned look from the side of the furniture. Mary eyes searched Agnes' expression, trying to think of how to respond. "It hasn't happened to you, though. I have to know, what are we going to do?" She swallowed, trying to show confidence . Instead, it came out as a scared whimper. Agnes met her eyes with a level look. "No, it hasn't. We can't know what you're going through, the incredibleness about this aside. It's still a family crisis, and the family's here for you, Mary." The elderly woman paused for a second, staring out the window. "I don't have an answer for your question either, other than maybe buying some new clothes..." She raised an eyebrow at the gaudy sweater Mary wore. "Things. Will stay. The same. Now, no more questions." "But-!" Mary started, eyes widening. "Nope, not another word about it, drink your coffee." Mary's hooves clunked heavily to the table surface. Grimly, she looked down at the dark liquid before her. The cup vibrated in her grip as she tried to lift the cup to her mouth, ever so carefully she was able to sip some out of it without pushing it away from her grasp. The cup was empty soon, Mary troubling herself and her mind with thoughts all the while. The only one that seemed to make sense though, didn't help her. This conversation isn't fair. Agnes' coffee cup clinked onto the table, also empty. "So," she spoke up, matter of factly. "I think you need a bath, dear." Mary's ears shot up in fear. "You smell simply awful." Mary hopped off of her chair causing it to clatter on the floor and backed away towards the living room door. "Mary," Agnes started to say, laughing and smiling. "Are you really going to be so immature about this?" "Immature!? I have fur, Agnes! FUR! Think about it! How would I even wash myself with these hooves?" She hopped up on her hind legs long enough to wiggle them at the grey haired woman. Wow, she thought. I'm getting good at that, gah! "No water, Agnes! None!" She reinforced herself with conviction. "Well, I'll help of course. But do you really think Stan will want to keep hanging around you if you smell like a stable? Love's a powerful force Mary... But so is that odor coming off of you." Her mother-in-law wiggled a finger at her and wrinkled her nose for emphasis. Mary relented, wilting to the floor in a heap. "Oh... Fine, let's get this over with... My God, this is so embarrassing." Agnes got up from her chair and frowned down at Mary. "Mary, you may be a pony at the moment, but that doesn't mean you can take the Lord's name in vain. Honestly, you weren't raised in a barn." Mary groaned loudly at the terrible joke. She face hoofed at that one, and scowled up at Agnes. "That was terrible, mom. Oh God, no horse puns please, I can't take that." Agnes let out an exasperated sigh and flopped her arms against her sides. "What did I just say? Fine, no more puns, let's just get you in and out before I feel the need to wash out your mouth, too." She wouldn't dare, would she? Mary got up from the floor and considered the threat carefully. "Or before everyone else gets home..." She continued Agnes' sentence for her. Agnes tsked and pushed the bathroom door open, while simultaneously beginning to tug at the sweater covering Mary. "Nonsense, there's no reason for them to be back before noon. I'm sure they're still hours away from coming home, dear." The statement filled Mary with dread. Knock on wood. She thought solemnly. Suddenly, the cold spray of shower water crashed down on her, causing her to gasp. "COLD! MOM! COLD!" "Oopsie, sorry." "...Mom, what are you doing back there?" After the shower-bath and a very irritating toweling, they had gone to the family-room by the back door. The wide windows had their shades and drapes drawn, at Mary's request. It made sense to Agnes that she would want them that way, even if their closest neighbors were a full two miles down the road. After that, the town and suburban area began, the rural shifting smoothly into a forest of small houses. Mary sat beside Agnes on the couch, and the television was flipped to a local station. They didn't have cable, Stan said it was a waste of money. "Mom?" "Hm? Yes Mary?" Agnes had convinced Mary to let her re-braid her hair. She was currently wrapping the damp locks around one another deftly. "I asked you, what are you doing back there...? It doesn't feel like your braiding my hair." Mary tried to turn her head, but Agnes pushed it back once, then twice, causing Mary to snort in offense. "Hm? Oh, I'm putting this adorable red ribbon I found in your work room into your hair. You really do have lovely hair, Mary." Mary tried to jerk forward in response to the coddling comments. "Would you sit still!" Agnes' hand pushed her back down roughly. "Mom, I'm not a pet to be dressed up or decorated!" Mary whined over her shoulder. "Oh don't be silly, I know you did this to Anna on more than one occasion, this has nothing to do with your... pony related problems. I will admit though, you're easily a hundred times more adorable than your cutest baby picture of Bobby." Mary winced at the words and tried to squirm away, which only earned her a pinch in return. "Gah!? What was that for?" Her head finally came loose, and she spun around on the couch and glared at Agnes. "Well you weren't listening." She began to chuckle. "Oh my gosh, we need to get a picture of you, that is just precious." Agnes tittered uncontrollably, with one knuckle covering her mouth. "Mom!? How can you laugh at this? This isn't a time for laughing at all! Hey, would you listen to me?" Agnes scratched her neck absently, still chuckling, and looked around the room. Mary continued to stare at her face incredulously, until she noticed the older woman pointing at the wall mirror besides the television. Agnes broke out into a fit of laughter again, falling back on the couch this time. In the mirror, that same green eyed stranger met Mary's gaze. Only this time, she had two ribboned tails falling forward, over her ears, and one wrapped spray of hair sticking straight up above her head, through the use of a scrunchie. It was horrifying, in a style that would make Dr. Seuss cringe. But she couldn't help herself. Mary joined her, after a moment. They laughed together, happy tears falling casually. Some time had passed, and things had calmed down a little bit more. The two moved to sit lazily on the couch, Mary in more of a lying position. Agnes had gone and reheated the previously ignored sandwich, which Mary now chewed on absently. She didn't care if horses were herbivores, it still tasted delicious. They watched television and talked about normal things, the events of earlier somewhat forgotten. They joked about Herbert getting caught in his own zipper that morning, about Anna and her ballet recital, and briefly about how Mary wouldn't be able to go to it any longer... They also talked about Stan and his job, and Bobby and school. During a lapse in conversation, Mary readdressed her guilty conscience to Agnes. "Mom?" The grey haired mother looked over at her, smiling. "I was just... just thinking... Maybe it doesn't make any sense, mom, or maybe things won't work out... But you're right, that isn't what's important. I've just been stubborn lately, even with things as they are I guess that isn't an excuse. Huh? I'm sorry." Mary looked down at the carpeted floor, she swished her tail absently beside her. Agnes had worked a ribbon into that somehow, too. "Mary," Agnes began. "Think of it like this, I can tell you're still upset. You're right to be! But find peace, too. Life isn't about just waiting for the storm to pass." She gently rested a hand on her daughter in law's shoulder. "It's about learning to dance in the rain. Tragedies happen, we learn to cope." The room was quiet for a minute, while the words spoken sunk in. Mary hugged herself and shivered. "...Will you help me break this to the kids, mom?" She wasn't cold, but despite trying to be brave inwardly, it hurt. How many people are going to see me like this? The thought was filed away. Agnes merely smiled at her, and nodded. "Of course, dear." She hummed suddenly, and tapped a finger to her lip, a flat look crossing onto her face which tilted up at the ceiling. "Something wrong?" Mary inquired, she looked as though she were deep in thought. "Oh, nono, not at all... I was just thinking though. You and I could definitely get Herbert back for all those years of pranks, now..." Mary's eye brows climbed up her face, she'd never heard Stan's mother laugh evilly before, but she was good at it.