//------------------------------// // Awkward // Story: Love and Tolerance // by Final_Draft //------------------------------// Love and Tolerance My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust By: TOO S0BER --***::: Chapter 11 :::***-- Awkward Better. That's pretty much how the day was going thus far as the two of us cruised down the street. Well, aside from that shock collar; I'm still going to get him back for that, friggin' bastard. It didn't help that Marcus kept bringing up the 'shock on my face' when the thing zapped me. My eye kept twitching as I sat in the passenger seat, and I tried to keep my anger in control as he went on and on. “Alright already!” I finally shouted, my cheeks burning. “It wasn't that funny, damn it!” He snickered once more, and followed up with, “Yes it was...” I grumbled, pouting again in my seat, and it was that much worse because I couldn't distract myself with the traffic that I knew was going by outside. Dear God, just when I thought car trips could not get more loathsomely boring... then this happens. Arrugh! I'd already studied the hell out of the fake wood and plastic of the car door, and pondered just about every different technique I could possibly use to open the handle when the time came to once again disembark. Any change in subject would be very much welcome. My thoughts began to wander, and I found myself worrying for Ashley. It's not every day that parents throw their kid out, and it's not every day a person turns into a colorful unicorn. Ashley never handled stress that well, and repeatedly through college she would practically rip her hair out for upcoming exams and such. Marcus and I would try and help her unwind with doing stuff, like going to a bar, or what we did yesterday with seeing a movie and such. During her college years it rarely helped, but we tried. It didn't help that when she finally graduated, as now she had those typical tens of thousands of dollars of debt to pay off. Even having comleted college didn't make finding a job any easier. Last I heard, the only things she could find were in Fast Food... and that doesn't pay any higher than minimum wage, with the exception of becoming a manager. That was why her parents, until now, had offered up their home to Ashley – to help their daughter out... And now they pull this shit... The car, despite the air conditioning being on, felt like it had suddenly risen about ten degrees as I stared daggers at the dashboard. My thoughts boiled and my body reacted. Against the seat, my wings began to press on the leather, the action slightly pushed me forward, but I hardly noticed; and my folded ears barely caught the low growling that emanated from my muzzle. Honestly, I just couldn't comprehend how they could do that to Ashley. It just felt... incomprehensible. What, did they think she'd be just as comfortable on the street? Nah, she doesn't need a bed or sheets anymore, her fur coat will keep her warm enough! She's an animal now, let her sleep on the ground like a dog. At least the food bills will be cheaper now, the garbage cans should be enough for her! After all, how much can a tiny, freakish horse eat anyway! My anger peaked, and as those cascading thought ate at my mind, my heart grew heavy with despair, and I began to see red. Before too long my head began to ache, and I didn't even realize the SUV had come to another stop; not until Marcus's hand shook my shoulder again. I heard his voice, but the words didn't register as I stewed in righteous anger; images of Ashley on the street, trying to survive, played their way across my mind's eye. The shaking became more persistent, just as the thought of the ultimate crossed my mind. I reeled on the source, and screamed, “WHAT!?” I watched through my teary eyes – they'd began watering without my knowing it – as Marcus briefly recoiled, and then fixed me with a sorrowful, but stern, gaze. He even removed his favorite shades for emphasis, a classic sign that the man was being serious. We studied each other for several moments; him in concern, and me, for a while, in irritation. One long minute later, and it dawned on me that I was doing it again. Worrying myself to death over every little thing; despite the fact that I'd already stated, vocally or not, that as long as I had a roof, so too did Ashley. “Sam,” Marcus began softly. He waited for me to say something, but no words came. He sighed briefly, “Just relax okay? We will get through this, and things will turn out okay.” I blinked at him, and just sighed while giving a nod. I took another mental step back to observe and check myself. These hormones, or whatever, must really be doing a number on me. Several time this last day and a half, I'd been getting extremely pissed off or unnecessarily worried about this or that. Was becoming a pony pegasus... mare... that big of a deal? Yes. In fact, hell yes, but it didn't really warrant this kind of reaction at everything that's going on. What's done is done, and unless the government, or whomever, finds out what caused this sudden change, or how to cure this ponification, there was just nothing for it... Perhaps that's what Marcus has been trying to tell me... I furrowed my brow briefly; was I always this dense...? Also I could not recall previous times when I got that angry over stuff. I chalked it up to more mare stuff to deal with later, as I realized Marcus was waiting... and I looked over in time to see that dark skinned hand as it made its way towards me. “I'll try and deal with this better,” I shrugged non-committal, making no promises. “just... bear with me, eh?” My question finished with a semi-warm smile when I turned my eyes on him. He smiled in turn, and accepted my request with a solitary nod. “Whelp...” he deactivated the SUV's idling engine. “let's get this 'date' over with...” He exited the car quickly, leaving me there with pinpricked eyes and a blush on my face. God-damn it body!! “This is not a date!” I bellowed back at him, the last part of my shout cut off by the door closing. I grumbled and stared venomously at him as he circled the front of the vehicle, and 'politely' opened my door for me. “Jackass,” I smirked at him. “I think the words you're looking for,” Marcus grinned. “are 'thank' and 'you'... ma'am.” Oooohh... you're asking for it now bub... I held up my hoof, intending to flip him the bird... but again, that's hard to do without fingers, and I cursed aloud as he snickered at me, and watched the pegasus pony 'parachute' out of the tall vehicle. I was right back at the mall – I could use my wings in a way to soften the landing, my four hooves clopped on the ground relatively quietly on the tarmac. We were once more in a parking lot, but not a strip mall like the PetSmart we'd just left. This whole lot was dedicated to one store, and one store only – Wal-Mart. Being at this place made more sense than the pet place, and felt a lot less degrading. Marcus and I stayed close to our side of the line of parked cars, trying to stay out of the way of the frequently passing cars, people hunting predatorially for vacant parking. I paused when we got to the road that segregated parking lot from the doors that led into the store itself. There was the occasional car, and a decent amount of people that came and went, most walked inside the painted pedestrian crosswalk, but some just moved wherever the hell they wanted. This wouldn't be a problem if I was still a human, but I'm not. I'm a pony now... a small pony. If I was gonna get hit, it was going to be here. By a car. A car, that by comparison, dwarfed me in size like a bowling ball sized up against a baseball. I winced as the image of an orange... and red... smear on the ground crossed my mind. Damn it brain! Marcus was still at my side, looking down at me with that quizzical look, and like he could always seem to do, he guessed at my fear. “Just cross quickly with me,” he suggested, then made another quickly thereafter. “or you can fly over the crowd.” the man suggested with a wave of his hand. I liked the flying idea, but didn't want to draw attention to myself like that. The movie theater was still fresh in my mind, and I didn't want a repeat. It seemed that things had calmed at least a little bit now, as there were plenty of people around. A few looked in my direction with those odd stares though, probably not knowing exactly what I was or what was going on in the world right now. I couldn't blame them for their lack of knowing; I hardly ever watched the news either, and only turned it on because I was directly affected by this – hence fur, wings, tail etcetera... “Erm,” I made that weird, uncertain sound, and backpedaled a step as a car went by unnervingly close. I heard a slight sigh from the direction of my friend, and almost shrank; the thought that that was a sigh in annoyance crossed mt mind. Until he made another suggestion. “Here,” he spoke as I looked up at him. He smiled, and offered a hand. “give me your, uh, wing tip, and I'll walk you across...” The offer made me blink as I stared at his hand. Briefly I wondered if this was some kind of prank or joke – since Marcus was known to cause that (I still remembered that shock collar only hours ago). And yet this seemed different, genuine even, as I made observations of his facial features. His smile was kind – no hint of foul play or some kind of trickery in the works – and even... warm. The man's eyes showed no signs of such treachery as well. Long story short; this was an honest gesture of his friendship. I smiled wanly back, “Thanks.” and offered my left wing. He gently grasped about three or four of my orange feathers, and we started walking when a few other people entered the crosswalk. With that many pedestrians about, the traffic had no real choice but to stop, and therefore gave us a golden opportunity. With Marcus there, I felt safe as we crossed, and I edged a little closer to his legs. In a semi-odd kind of way, it reminded me of myself holding my parents hand when doing this exact same thing; it also felt different though, and I could not pin down why. A heat built in my chest as we went, but I hardly noticed as I kept my wary eyes on the nearby cars. In no time flat, we reached the other side, we stopped in front of the store. The entrance was still busy, so we opted to wait for... I blinked, and noted the pressure still on the limb attached to my back. I looked up, and saw that Marcus still held my wing in his hand. I snickered a bit, then said plainly, “You can let go of my wing now...” I quirked an eyebrow, and for once, he blushed. The man hurriedly leg go of the feathery limb, and I gently folded it back down at my side. We both stood there, wordlessly staring at each other. Him down at me, and I craned my neck up, ignoring the inbound cramps from doing so. My smirk wanned a bit, and his reddened cheeks receded over the course of several seconds as we continued to just gaze. And there was something that I – HONK!! “Eep!” That new sound I was able to make jumped out of my muzzle, but the volume didn't have anything on the altitude as I shot up in the air, the hell scared out of me by the sudden car horn going off right freaking behind me. I braced as I expected to hit hard concrete... when I landed, cradled, in something softer. I hesitantly opened my eyes to find I was in Marcus's arms, he was just as shocked as I was, and his body slouched as he likely had jumped, but reacted to break my fall. Again we stared at each other a moment, and I noticed we gained some onlookers. Those stares in my peripheral vision snapped me out of whatever trance I was in, and I asked a little forcefully, “Put me down please.” He blinked, and hesitated only a moment before he set me down on my hooves, carefully avoiding that area around the base of my outstretched wings. “I'll get us a buggy,” he said neutrally, and then promptly made for the entrance. In his haste, he bumped into a customer's shoulder right as he was leaving, made a hasty apology, then went on. I followed shortly afterwards, the thoughts pushed to the back of my mind for now. __---***::: :::***---__ Again Marcus led the way as we made our way through the various aisles of the store. For a while we didn't say much to each other as he examined various products with what seemed like a practiced eye – like he'd shopped for a pony before. That elicited some rather curious stares from me; how did he have this much knowledge about what kind of things would be useful for a human-turned-pony? The only answer that came up was the somewhat odd obsession with that show for small girls. There had to be more to it. “How do you know about all this, Marcus?” I asked, my neck craned up to him as he read the contents of something. “Huh?” he asked without taking his eyes off whatever he was reading. I repeated my query a little slower. “Oh, well...” he placed the item – a shower gel/shampoo dispenser with large buttons – in the buggy, and then rubbed his neck with a hand. He stood there and leaned on a shelf as he contemplated something while I patiently – okay, semi-patiently – waited for him to explain. “Well,” Marcus started by removing his shades. “it goes like this; being a gamer, and liking certain games, you know about fandoms, right?” I nodded. I did indeed understand, as I was a part of a few; in particular to certain series. “That show I like has a very large fan base, believe it or not, and nearly all of them are outside the target demographic.” his tone went on like he was making a simple explanation. I, however, got slightly more confused. Was what he was telling me true? There's a lot more people his age, and older, that like that show about ponies? ...Really? Again my mind was blown. “The correct term is 'Bronies',” he explained the definition of something right as I zoned out from partial shock. Instead of interrupting, I just nodded. When I figured out how to use my laptop again, I can look up these 'brony' things. “the nickname made by the fans, short for 'bros who like ponies'. “There's another term separate for the older women who like the show, called 'Pegasisters',” Marcus rolled his eyes as my own twitched. Pegasisters? Okay. Well if I were forced to pick one, it'd have to be the first one; the second sounds... I don't know, weird; despite being a mare, the horse equivalent of a woman, and a pegasus (hey, for once I didn't shiver... I'm making progress!). “but most prefer to just identify colloquially as 'Bronies'.” he finished that explanation. So, there's a whole huge community dedicated to that show. That didn't surprise me so much, as everything has a fan base, ranging from colossally huge, or so small as to be practically non-existent. Marcus's enthusiasm built a bit as we moseyed down the aisles. He explained that the community has several sites dedicated to just that pony stuff, briefly went into detail about how it started on that '4chan' site, and how now the following is so huge that there's a number of conventions that happen around the world. Marcus even revealed that he was an apt contributing member to a few websites. He made pony art, wrote some short stories, and was even an administrator on some sites. For lack of a better word, I was impressed. Now I know why Marcus would, on occasion, say he was too busy with stuff to go out and do anything – now I knew why. I did feel a bit irritated that he preferred to work on that stuff rather than hang with Ashley and I. But even so, I also knew that feeling of wanting to be alone and do things by yourself. Little sparks of being a loner when you weren't really a loner, and that made it more acceptable. Honestly, I even thought it was kind of neat that he was devoting so much to his own hobby. “So,” Marcus continued, and fiddled with his hands a bit. “anyway, there is a lot of pony fanfiction, the same as with any fan base. And there's a whole subject of stories whom follow a similar premise of people, usually bronies, that go to Equestria.” It took me a minute to recall what Equestria was – when my little sister's voice echoed the name, and her explanation, of what it was. I groaned slightly, “You're way too in to this, Marcus. I almost feel like I should be concerned...” There was liking something, and then there was obsessing over it. Right now, Marcus's in-depth knowledge of the subject seemed to be leaning towards the latter. He shrugged, and brushed my slight jar aside and – ow! I rubbed my side where he had lightly jabbed me with his knee, and growled in slight annoyance. “So,” I decided to let the jab slide – well, not really, I chalked it up as one more thing I 'owed' him for later – to continue the conversation. “you don't really think this is some story do you?” I cocked an eyebrow at him, my face contorted in skeptical disbelief. He was examining a home phone, one of the models with the very large buttons, “Well, you and Ash look a lot like the origi –” he suddenly froze and dropped the phone to the floor. Luckily, the show model was connected to the stand by a wire, and didn't smash against the floor. It did bang the shelf though, the sudden noise startled me as well as a raised foreleg, and drew the attention from some other shoppers. And of course their stares went from the phone to the orange pegasus pony in two seconds flat – damn it, Marcus. I sidestepped to the other side of his legs in an attempt to hide a little. Eh, it was more so I wouldn't see their ongoing stares. I didn't need another breakdown this week. In a desperate attempt to change my attention, I observed the stock-still frozen human I was shopping with. His hands were still up in the same position as when he held the phone. His eyes seemed distant, while his face was contorted in some form of mild worry. Uh oh, I thought as my ears bent back against my skull. What now? “Hey,” I poked his knee. “You okay? Earth to Marcus? Yoo-hoo?” Poke, poke. He didn't respond. I sighed, and sat on the ground next to him to use my forelegs. I used my hooves and pressed them against the jean material that covered his thigh, the bottoms facing each other, and the pressed them together in a pinch. “Gyah!” He yelled out and jumped away – and nearly fell! He tried to grab the shopping cart in an attempt to steady himself. Problem was, things with wheels don't steady... they tend to roll. Fortunately all that happened as he clutched the handle was that he just slid slowly to the ground. Marcus blinked, and after a few seconds of comprehensive crunching, he stared back at me. I was still in the position, my forelegs raised in the pinch position while I sat on the floor. I wasn't exactly expecting a jump like that, and I didn't register for long seconds that he was looking at me. I blinked, and shrugged as I put my hooves down. “Sorry, you spaced out...” I paused, and considered something. “You spaced out like what I've been doing...” I smiled weakly. Marcus grinned slightly, “Must have been bad then...” with a little difficulty, the larger man righted himself. A nearby store associate offered his help, but Marcus politely declined. The employee looked at me a moment, and gratefully just walked away. Over the next thirty seconds, the patrons decided we weren't of interest any more – thank God – and went about their business, leaving Marcus and I alone in the phone aisle. When things calmed down, I asked, “What was that about?” I noticed the wince he tried to hide, and he tried to feign like he didn't hear me, “Huh?” the man then went on like he was concentrating on something. I narrowed my eyes a bit, despite him not looking. Nice try bub. “You zoned out. You were about to say something... about me and Ashley.” I paused again to let those words sink in. “Something that has to do with this.” I gestured at my pegasus form, and gave my wings a light twitch for a smidgen more emphasis on what I was talking about. He did his own pause, and stared at a DVD rack, “It's not something I can just tell you...” My ears perked, and my frown increased. I was about to protest, and remind him of the first time he didn't speak up; back in the apartment just before we learned about me being gender swapped, when he continued, “It's something I have to show you.” He traveled along in the store, and we stopped in the shoe department. Briefly it occurred to me that I wouldn't need to get shoes... or would I have to get fitted for metal horse shoes – wasn't that something painful? Or involved nails? The thought chilled my spine, and I forced it from my mind. Marcus took a seat and took out his own smart phone. I climbed the small bench and sat next to him. My nervousness must have been a little thick, as my long, scruffy brown tail again weaved over my waist protectively. I was again reminded of my public nudity. I'm sure the fur coat covered me adequately, but why take chances. Despite having that extra limb, it felt very... comforting to have, and surprisingly soon I couldn't imagine not having the tail. I watched as he activated the browser for the internet on his phone. He went to an art community site – DeviantArt – and logged in to his profile. He went to a gallery, his I assumed, and started thumbing through various pictures. His art was pretty good. Nearly all of it was pony stuff, and I recognized some of the characters from that show by appearance. I saw the orange one with the blond mane, in a flowing apple tree grove, striking a nearby tree with her hind legs. Another of Rainbow Dash soaring through the sky with an explosion of rainbow behind her, a daredevil grin on her face. I d'awed aloud at the picture of the butter yellow pegasus sitting with a dozen or so woodland forest creatures – bunnies, squirrels, raccoons, and... a bear... a rather fierce looking bear; okay... He scrolled through the pictures for a while, and came across one with those six main character ponies, and... next to them were a pair that I was all too familiar with. Next to the diva unicorn with the stylized purple mane and tail – I still had no idea of what her name was supposed to be – was a gray unicorn with a nearly straight black mane and tail with two stripes of green in them. At a picnic, or some outdoor lounge table, I saw an orange pegasus with two toned brown hair talking enthusiastically with the pink, crazy looking pony, as well as the blond farmer again. I just stared. My jaw remained nailed shut, and if it weren't for the physical impossibility of it, my pupils must have practically disappeared. I whispered out meekly, “What the fuck am I looking at...?” He sighed heavily, and pointed at the gray equine talking to, Rarity, as he explained, and said, “Minty Stripe, and,” his finger drove over to the image of... me... at the table, “Sunset Gust.” he revealed their two names with a form of pride while I still stared. “Okay,” I shied away from the phone, and raise a foreleg apprehensively. “I'm not going to lie... this is extremely weird, and very freaky Marcus.” my eyes never left the eerie art image of the brown-maned 'Sunset Gust' – me. “I know,” he says flatly. “before you ask, no, I don't know how or why you and Ashley turned into the original characters I made of you two.” after that he briefly explained what an original character, or 'OC', was. For lack of a better word, I was again in shock. I began to question whether or not this was coincidence or not. As absurd as it was, and even though he just stated he didn't know, I started to suspect Marcus. My mind raced; surely it wasn't the case for everyone that was transformed, surely everyone didn't have a cartoony named pony from that show. I didn't know what to think of this as the gears ground in my head. It seemed so weird, but this appeared to be concrete proof that this ponification was related to the show. For some reason, the plot line – hehe, plot – of Resident Evil popped in my brain; the evil corporation was replaced by those that made the show, with some kind of weird agenda to rule the world – via ponies. If it wasn't for the fact that that may be true, I would have rolled on my back, laughing my ass off. I slowly removed myself from the bench. I thought Marcus called out a little bit, but my mind had simply gone numb. I almost could not process this. This was just too much. Not only am I this weird cartoon equine alien whatever-the-hell, but it's related to what I thought was just a television show. My mind raced with question after question; what exactly was I, who or what did this, was Marcus and these 'bronies' involved in some way, and what else is out there that can happen.... My thoughts were interrupted by Marcus when he yelled, “SAM!” I stopped and turned my head back to face him, when a familiar sound caused my ear to twist in the other direction. It sounded like wheels, four of them with one making those annoying squeak noises, accompanied by the sound of small running feet. I turned to look... … and froze like a deer in headlights. Careening towards me was a shopping cart speeding directly at me, controlled by a kid. I was in too much shock to screech out or try and warn him, and before I knew it, my breath was knocked from my lungs as the metal cage slammed into my side and face. My mind went blank, troubling thoughts expelled by being run over. The kid, going as fast as he was, pushed me several feet. I stopped when my back struck a cardboard display, and that toppled over, burying me in small plastic shakers of seasonings. I groaned under the pile, my side burned and aching. Rustling caught my attention, and the pile shifted around me – probably Marcus or someone else digging me out. I didn't get a chance to see the size of the display, but it must have been a large one, as I could barely move under the mountain of bottles. Eventually though, the pressure subsided on my head a bit, and I forced my head through. I saw Marcus, a blond woman with the blue vest of an employee, and a rather worried looking round woman whom must have been the driving boy's mother; all three of them shifting fallen product, trying to dig me out. Marcus sighed in relief, “You okay? I know you like herbs and spices, but wanting to bathe in them?” he snickered, teasing me, apparently glad that I seemed fine. Even so, I spotted the small tinge of worry that remained. I checked myself a bit, and everything did indeed seem ship-shape, so I put the rest of his mind at ease, “Yeah, I'm fine.” I shook myself a bit, and more of the spice and herb bottles tumbled away, which allowed my forelegs and torso more freedom. The large woman smiled a bit, knowing that I was okay; she then gave a baleful look towards her son, the prelude to what would probably be quite the scolding by her later. I almost said something, would have gave some reassuring excuse like, 'oh, it's not his fault, I'm kind of tiny now,' or something like that. But I recalled he was going really fast. So I just watched as she dragged him away by his arm. Marcus and the store associate started to pick up and re-stacking the display. Without a second thought, since I wasn't severely or even mildly hurt, I started to do the same. I sat on my haunches and simply picked up bottle after bottle, and made sure they were straight and presentable – I worked in a grocery store, and building and fixing stuff like this was part of the job. Stuff sells better if it looks good. After a short while I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I paused as I was about to stack a pair of bottles. I turned and looked at Marcus quizzically, “Hmm? What's up?” I gave him my attention. He gaped at me, as was the store worker I noticed as my eyes shifted back and forth between the two. Several seconds went by, and I started to feel uncomfortable, my hind legs twitched a bit underneath me. “What?” I finally asked, and felt some of the anxiety attacking me because of the stares. The associate worker pointed at me, “How are you doing that?” she asked. I blinked, “Doing what?” “That.” she emphasized her pointing finger with a couple pokes in the air, and I followed the finger. I didn't see what the big deal was, I was holding a pair of spice bottles, getting ready to sta – It hit me like a slap in the face. In my hooves, the pony hooves that lacked any way to grab things by themselves, were two of the spice bottles, one in each hoof. They just... floated there; like someone had somehow magnetized plastic to my limb ends. Slowly, my jaw dropped as I stared. How the hell am I doing that!? A mix of wonderment and fear washed over me at this freakish display. I know I suck at physics, but even I know this is utterly impossible. There was no way this should be happening; there was nothing holding the small bottles there – no glue, no tape, no fingers, nothing. How the hell am I – The plastic containers chose that moment to lose whatever voodoo that was holding them to me, and clattered to the floor. The three of us watched them, eyes wide and staring, as they sat serenely in the pile with the couple dozen identical ones. I poked one with a hoof like I was trying to tease a crab, expecting the thing to snap at me in some hostile way, or explode in my face. I shook my head and partially reared my head back up, “Okay, someone please explain what the hell just happened...?” I looked to the only person that may know; Marcus. He looked at me, and partially shrugged. The man took a moment to ponder, a hand to his chin as he stared at the containers. After about a minute, he answered, “Pony magic.” Ugh, I rolled my eyes. More of this magic crap... Did he honestly believe that was more magic? I was only willing to believe that unicorns such as Ashley could perform magic, because they had those horns, but pegasi too? Could the hornless and wingless ones do that as well? And what about ghosts, do they suddenly exist? Come on Marcus. I gave him an incredulous stare with a cocked eyebrow, “Is magic the answer for all inexplicable things or what?” He shrugged again, “'Or what' seems pretty acceptable right now too,” he rubbed his forehead then gestured that hand at me. “you can't seriously think that it couldn't be magic, right? You've turned into a pony, you're a pegasus, you are –” he was about to say gender swapped or mare or something along those lines, when I switched that stare to a glare. “er, anyways, you saw Ashley perform magic, however small and brief it was. As I said before, I'm half expecting a forecast of cotton candy clouds and chocolate milk rain... and I'm ready with a jug.” His goofy statement made me relax, and I chuckled, “Right, I guess it might be,” I shrugged. The three of us continued to clean up, but I couldn't do that weird grip thing anymore. I tried over and over again, but the bottles just fell off repeatedly – like they should have all along. Marcus offered an explanation; that it worked because I wasn't thinking about it, that it was on impulse and habit that I started to pick up the bottles and that was why it was working when it did. Now that I was conscious and aware of it, the 'magic', if that's what it genuinely was, just wouldn't work. Or at least not while I was trying to make it work. “Gee, well that sucks,” I pouted a bit as I stared at my hoof. “find out hooves can do more than clop, doesn't work unless you're not thinking about it.” I rolled my eyes as I finished that sentence, and Marcus topped off the display with the last couple of bottles. The employee thanked us for our help, gave one final stare at me, then went on to help another customer. “Yeah, it does,” Marcus replied. “but at least that'll help you adjust better.” he crossed his arms in satisfaction. “and it means that a part of the canon is proven one-hundred-percent right! Hah!” he elated as he talked about something from that show again. I didn't want to ask, as my brain felt overtaxed as it was. Thankfully the rest of the trip went on as normal – well, as normal as shopping with a pony could be. I looked everywhere, and I seemed to be the only ponified human here; which meant I got all the stares. I had to pause to fight hyperventilation once, and surprisingly Marcus still had that same paper baggy from the day before. “Thanks again,” I hoofed him the bag when I was done, some four minutes later. “Any time,” he replied as he stuffed the brown, crumpled rectangle into his back pocket. I smiled warmly at him, again appreciating all he was doing for me. He was a real friend. And for a moment, I forgot about all the prank crap I owed him, and instead formulated ways to pay him back for his generosity. And just like that my mind was put at ease – or at least enough that I could ignore the passersby that peeled their eyes at the sight of me. In a way, I felt almost normal despite having to crane my neck to look at anyone that wasn't a child or a midget. Finally we selected our last item, and we made our way to the checkout. That went by uneventfully, and soon we were back in the SUV, and departing down the street. At a red light, I said I wanted to call Ashley, and Marcus dialed her cell phone on his own, and switched the settings to speaker. I watched the light as I waited for an answer. Several rings later, and a voice called out. “Hello?” my ears perked up, the voice seemed partially choked and a little hoarse (see what I did there?), like the person on the other line had been crying, or eating very hot salsa. My brow furrowed in irritation at the voice I heard, for it wasn't whom I was expecting. It wasn't the familiar voice of the gray unicorn I wanted to hear right now. Instead, it was her mother.