//------------------------------// // Orifice In Reality // Story: Mister Jones // by Patient X //------------------------------// The endless bumper to bumper traffic let Stan know that his day was gonna suck. He's been sitting in this stagnant, rumbling mess for at least an hour, barely moving half a mile, and has listening to the cacophony of car horns and pissed complaints from every fucking Guido in America. "Enough of this shit." Stan growls to himself as a scowl creeps up on his board expression. He reaches toward the dashboard of his car and turns the dial of the radio several times to increase the volume of the music crackling out of the speakers of his mother's used car. The rumbling, growling engine of the 2010 Ford Escape helped shield Stan's ears from the horrid, obnoxious, excuse of laughter coming from the car behind him with open windows. From the almost dead car speakers, he can barely hear the lyrics of the song. "Why can't Germans make louder music?" Stan angrily spits out loud to nobody. Hell, he can barely hear himself over the litany of slurred cursing, New Jersey dialects, and loud stereo beats blasting from gangsta wannabe's from all sides; all those sounds mixed with the metallic whirring of car engines, the nauseating stench of gasoline, and the lingering taste of "Dunkin'-Donuts" Iced Tea in Stan's mouth makes this entire experience a lot more mind numbing than it should...At least the tea tasted fine, he guesses. Stan can see the steel, multicolored parade of cars stretching over the next hill, partially concealed by the sun blaring behind the white overcast as tiny droplets of acid rain accumulated at the nearby airport patter on the roofs of all vehicles in the cacophonous symphony of industrial shit. He simply sighed, looked at the clock, which read 11:57 AM, and cracked his fingers... ************** Halfway in another dimension, Equestria, to be exact, Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash stroll together towards the Main Palace in Canterlot, sent there by request of Princess Celestia. "What do you think the Princess wants?" The rainbow pegasus queries the purple unicorn as they enter the main chamber of the palace; they walk past a platoon of guards and are saluted. "The letter said something about the Elements of Harmony." Twilight shrugs as the two draw near a set of steep, purple rugged stairs. Standing atop the stairs are five ponies, four of them being Twilight and Rainbow Dash's friends from Ponyville and the fifth one being a tall, white alicorn. "Princess Celestia! Pinkie, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, why are you here? I thought only Rainbow Dash and I got her letter." Twilight and Rainbow Dash seem puzzled by the presence of their four other friends. "I've summoned them as well. They will come into part later as I give you your mission. Come, I'll explain everything in the Stained Hall." Celestia offers a hoof to a pair of opened doors behind her leading into a massive ballroom. The six mares follow their monarch and are astounded by what they see. Sleek, marble tiled floors mar the reflections of massive, ornate stained glass windows depicting many events in history. The ceiling is supported with white stone struts that arch upward and give the room the look of a Gothic Cathedral. Of course, Twilight had been in here before, when she was summoned by Celestia and her sister Luna to help save the Crystal Empire, but her friends have never set hoof in here. "Absolutely gorgeous!" Rarity gasped from behind Rainbow Dash as she approaches one of the windows depicting Celestia sending Luna to the moon. "It's quate darn impressive if Ah so say so mahself." Applejack removes her cowpony hat in deference to the magnificent spectacle. "Now that we have some peace and quiet, I have a task for the six of you." "What is it?" Fluttershy quietly asks, brushing a few pink strands of mane from her yellow face. "You all know how to use the Elements of Harmony; that's been proven to me several times. However, you only know how to use these after charging them in a prolonged ritual. I'm going to teach you how to use them on command, without having to charge them up at once." Celestia's news brings a pleasant smile to the group of mares. "Ooh, neato! So we can just zap anything we want right then and there?" Pinkie Pie jumps up from behind Rarity and lands belly first onto the white coated mare, knocking her off balance and sending both ponies to the shiny ass floor. "Thankfully, no. The last pony who did so was sent to the moon. I will be teaching you girls temperance along with the ability to call these powers whenever. Do you understand?" Celestia asks the ponies before her. "We can handle it!" Rainbow Dash calls out excitedly as her friends grow huge smiles and nod. "Let us begin." Celestia smiles back. ************** A large building sits in the center of Philadelphia. A multistory laboratory built from tall, tinted glass panes and sheet white concrete. A flat, weedless lawn surrounds the building, sporting a red brick sign showing the logo of the company: "Quantum Applications" with three yellow triangles put together to make a radioactive symbol on a light blue background. Inside that building sits Stan, who finally, after two full hours of Pennsylvania interstate hell, got to where he needed to be. He sits in the main lobby of the building, also sheet white and shiny, reading the latest celebrity gossip he obtained from a rack next to the comfortable, leather sofa situated in the carpeted lobby. To his left is a desk with two doors to the left and right of the desk. A group of workers are behind the desk typing apathetically on their computers with the litany of boredom etched permanently onto their wrinkled visages. In inarticulate terms, they're fucking bored. "Stan Jones?" A woman looks up from her computer and at Stan, who puts down his magazine. "Yes?" He asks, hoping his volunteer service will finally start. "Take the door on the left and go down the hallway. Your laboratory will be the last one on the right." The middle aged, Hispanic woman tells Stan as he gets up and wipes the wrinkles from his polo. "Thanks." He thanks the woman, who nods and returns to her work. Stan opens the door and is surprised to find the hallway is quite populated. Doctors in lab coats rushing around busily with clip-boards and cell phones pass by Stan without a passing glance as he makes his way to the prescribed room. He opens the door and enters, closing the door behind him. A doctor in a lab coat walks up to him with a smile spread across his African American face. "Hi, are you Mr. Jones?" The elderly, balding scientist asks Stan, extending his hand. "Yes, sir, I am." Stan smiles back and shakes the doctor's wrinkly hand. "Your liability forms, too?" The doctor lifts his shaggy, white eyebrow. "Yes, I have those." Stan places a manila folder in the man's hand. "Great. Come with me, Mr. Jones, we have a lot to do today." The scientist happily pushes Stan along into the center of the laboratory. Stan found it odd how the doctor kept addressing him as "Mister Jones". He's seventeen, he doesn't need to be addressed like a grown man. In the center of the lab, past all the tables filled with electronic testing equipment, beakers and chemical cycles filled to the brim with unidentifiable liquids, gases, and solids, and sharp, pointy instruments, stand a group of other scientists, idly chatting about the Boston Bombing along with isolated incidents in Libya and Syria. "We have our missing man, everybody!" The black scientist happily exclaims as the group of scientists glance toward Stan and give warm 'hellos'. "I am Doctor Alman. I'm a theoretical physicist, mathematician, and quite the believer of the almighty dollar bill." He tells Stan in his upbeat, strangely overly excited voice. "This is my rag-tag team of scientists, physicists, and overall goof-balls like myself." Alman exclaims as his colleagues chuckle at his slightly insane banter. "Awesome. So, what will I be doing here?" Stan asks. "We've been working on a special something rather...taboo...and completely secret. Thankfully, we got you to sign those liability forms so you can't tell anyone or blame us if you get hurt." One of the scientists, an Oriental woman who appears to be in her late twenties tells Stan in a Korean accent. "What's so secret?" Stan asks again, feeling giddy himself. Stan has always had a soft spot for chemistry and even science in general. "You're just gonna have to follow us and find out." Alman gestures towards the back of the lab, past a massive generator, and past mountains of electrical equipment to something. That 'something' was a box-like computer bristling with knobs, buttons, lights and fitted with a computer screen. Next to it is a circular ring of metal outfitted with hoses, rivets, and lights. To the left of the strange machine is a large military-grade supply box containing who-knows what. "What's that? Some sort of particle accelerator?" Stan asks as he, Alman, and the scientists saunter over towards the machine. The other doctors split apart and begin to work on several of the outlying machines, perhaps prepping the device. "It's something more." A booming voice emits from behind Stan. He turns around to see several men. One of them, standing right in front of him, wears a military-style uniform. The other men wear United States soldier attire, also sporting assault rifles. "What??" Stan jumps in surprise as the official looking one raises a hand and waves Stan off. "We're here to oversee the experiment. I'm General Rochester." The general reaches forward, aiming to shake Stan's hand. "Wait. Is this experiment forced by the government, or is it of vital importance that these people need to be here, or what? What am I missing?" Stan frantically tries to put all of this into some form of sense. "Allow me to explain." Alman puts a hand on Stan's shoulder from behind. "Yes, please do! Because I'm really freaked out right now." Stan breathes. "We feel we may have achieved inter-dimensional travel. We reported this to the government and they're sending soldiers and technicians to help us out with the project. We just needed a lab-rat who would easily sign away his life via a liability contract for unpaid hours working at a laboratory; a laboratory using this type of technology." Alman chuckles. Stan feels sick to his stomach. He can't believe he feels used. "So wait. You want me, some asshole from Scranton, to go to another dimension?? Are you even sure this damn thing even works?" Stan angrily and frantically asks Alman and General Rochester. "Yes. We've sent rats with equipment through. They still have positive life signs and are continually transmitting data!" The Oriental scientist tells Stan as she still types out a series of buttons onto one of the machines. "How are they even alive? Are they sent to like a planet or something?" Stan asks, completely bewildered by the weight of the information he's being presented with. "Yes. If we open the portal, we can see exactly what's on the other side. Sort of like opening a door." Another scientist, obscured by equipment, piped up and fills in the gaps for Stan. "If you do this, the United States government will offer you a handsome reward. And if you don't we're required to terminate you because you are in possession of some really dangerous information." Rochester explains to Stan. "Okay, fine. I guess I don't have a choice." Stan huffs angrily as the machine behind him whirs to life. The circular part of the machine glows a bright green as the center of the ring tears through reality itself in a blinding flash of green light, stunning the soldiers, general, and Stan for a brief few seconds. "Ah, it's time now! Come, Stan, we will get you geared up!" Alman grabs Stan by the arm and hauls him towards the military crate. Stan opens the crate, revealing camouflage fatigues, combat netting, combat armor, guns, ammunition, medical packs, rations, canteens, helmets, and scientific equipment. "Here, put on some combat armor and I'll teach you how to use the equipment." Alman explains to Stan as he turns to the General to say something. A few minutes later, Stan is now the most inexperienced inter-dimensional solder ever, sporting camouflage fatigues, combat netting, steel-tipped boots, a backpack filled with various supplies, and a metallic chest plate fitted onto his chest spitting colored lights and wires onto his torso. "What's the chest plate for?" Stan asks, poking at one of the blinking lights on his chest. "That's medical equipment we use to keep track of you and keep you alive. Also, take this." Alman hands Stan a headset, looking device. "To communicate?" Stan asks. "Yes. There is a miniature version of the machine inside of here that sends all messages to us in this dimension. Just don't break it." Alman warns. "Are you ready yet?" General Rochester seems impatient. "I guess so, since you're sending me on a suicide mission." Stan angrily tells the General, who then raises a brow to Stan as he approaches the portal. Stan gazes into the portal, through the portal, and into the dimension beyond. He sees the surface of a planet, like a jungle, of sorts. The bright green areas around the portal swirl indefinitely as Stan nears the orifice in reality. "Go on, it's safe!" Rochester pushes Stan into the portal before he could even object. Stan stumbles through the rip in reality as he feels his individual molecules pull at the edges of the portal, wanting to stay in their mother dimension. He finally steps out of the orifice and lands several inches downwards onto the floor of the jungle. "Jesus fuck!" Stan shouts as he scrambles to get back up, not expecting the shock of inter-dimensional travel. He looks around, seeing trees, vines, and rocks in all directions, except for behind him, which still sports the portal. Stan reaches for his earpiece. "Can you hear me?" He shouts into the microphone. "Yes, we can, clear as a whistle!" Rochester responds as the portal closes, leaving Stan all alone in this strange new dimension. "Can I at least get my bearing before you trap me in some new reality?" Stan angrily asks the General, who chuckles. "You'll get used to it. besides, you can breathe the atmosphere, which means you can survive." Rochester laughs. "Alright, so what do I do now?" Stan asks, looking in all directions and seeing nothing but wood. "Explore. Tell us what you find, and we'll let you back into out reality again." Alman replies. "Alright. I'll contact you when I see something new." Stan presses a button on his earpiece to turn the thing off.