//------------------------------// // I Hear You've Gotten a Specimen? // Story: A Delightful Journey // by FeverishPegasus //------------------------------// I hear a knocking on the front door. Clip, clops make their way to my ears and Bon Bon asks, “Yes?” after pulling the door open. “I hear you’ve found an odd creature as of late. Can I investigate this specimen?” The pony’s voice sounds accomplished, intellectual. “Well, that’s for our specimen to decide. Let me go ask him really quick.” I hear Bon Bon trot up to my door, which I open before she can knock. “What do you think?” she asks. “I want none of it.” “Well, go up to her and tell her that. I’m not going to walk around like a messenger.” I sigh, extremely reluctant to deal with yet another curious pony, but, eventually, I get up and talk to our visitor. When I get there, a unicorn looks up at me. Her body and horn are a light purple. Her mane and tail appear to be a dark blue. Purple and pink highlights accentuating her flat-cut dark hair. “And you are?” I ask. “Twilight Sparkle.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond. “Is there any way I could perform a few measurements on you for scientific purposes?” “Sorry, but I don’t consider myself a ‘specimen’.” I shut the door on her. She pounds on it pleading, “Please! I couldn’t forgive myself if I missed out on an opportunity like this!” I open the door again so I can tell her off. She walks inside before I can protest. “Please! This would be a great thing to tell Princess Celestia about!” “Princess who?!” I continue, “But who cares about that! So far, you’ve only addressed me as ‘specimen’ and ‘opportunity’. Maybe if you’d actually asked me my name, your opportunity,” I do finger quotes for ‘opportunity’, “wouldn’t have shut the door on you!” The unicorn sits down. “Oh, so that’s what’s been bugging you.” She stops for a moment, composing herself. “What is your name then?” I feel really stupid. “I-I don’t know.” “Wait, if you don’t know your name, then why’d you ask me to ask you for it?” “I just…don’t want to be treated like a little bug, held up for inspection and tossed away when not needed. I have the same feelings and thoughts that you ponies do.” “I see. But measurements require me to hold you up for inspection. While I’m not going to toss you away like you’re expendable, you can’t expect me not to look at you. Regardless, when you came to the door and talked to me, I was forced to come to the conclusion that you were sentient. I never thought of you as a bug, nor will I when I investigate you. Are you happy with that?” “What exactly are you going to do?” “Well, first, I’m going to talk to you and see how advanced your communication skills are, as well as gain impersonal information on your race. Then I’m going to make a few measurements of your limbs and head, so that the scientific community can get a visualization of your species.” I think about what the rest of my day would entail without this nonsense and realize, well, that there would be nothing, apart from dinner. This is gonna be embarrassing, but I need SOMETHING to do. “I’ll do it.” Twilight squees. “Perfect! Now find a seat in this room and we can get started!” I look around the living room and see a sofa facing away from the door. It is surprisingly long, especially for just two inhabitants, but I choose to sit in it anyways. Two sofa-chairs face me; Twilight takes the one on the right. “Are we all comfortable and ready?” she asks. “Yeah, I’m good.” Twilight immediately scribbles into a notepad, mumbling, “While in comfortable situations, does not utilize full vocabulary.” “Hey Twilight,” I try to get her attention. “Could you not mumble what you write down?” Already, this pony has me offended. “Why?” she looks at me, genuinely confused. “Just…could you not?” “I can do that.” She immediately scribbles something into her notebook and asks me, “What is your view on Existentialism?” I pause. “While that word rings a bell, I don’t really know what you’re talking about.” More scribbles. “Are you of this world?” “No, I don’t think so.” “Why would you say that?” I take a moment to gather my thoughts. “Well, my memories remain clear up until the point at which I wake up in Ponyville for the first time. Beyond that are only brief instances of feeling, emotion, and blurred images.” Twilight mumbles, “Suffers from—”. She looks at me. “Sorry.” I wave it off. “Create a rhyme for meeeeee—go.” She clicks a little stopwatch. My brain shuts down and I start to sweat a little. Eventually, I manage to think about Lyra’s harp and grapple onto its image, forming a coherent descriptive sentence. “Lyra’s harp is golden.” I pause. “It really is something to behold—” I realize I’d screwed-up. “—en,” I taper off. My chest spasms as I crack up at how bad my rhyme is. I look up to see Twilight scribbling furiously into her notes. This all would be less embarrassing if she had laughed with me, I think as my cheeks start to go a little pink. “Describe to me in one word what you think of Ponyville.” “Infectious.” I take it back, things would have been a lot better just hanging out with Lyra. “What is your favorite food?” I stop myself before answering. “I…don’t think I should answer that question.” “Please, this is vital to my investigation.” I glance over at Lyra’s door. It’s shut, but there’s a large chance she’s eavesdropping. I’d have to tell everypony eventually. Might as well get it out of the way. “Roast beef,” I reply. Twilight looks up, “What do you mean by saying, ‘beef’?” “I like cooked cow,” I simply respond. Her eyes widen. “You mean to tell me that you’re a carnivore?” “No,” I say. “I can manage eating lettuce too, even though I don’t like it as much.” Furious scribbles. Finally, Twilight sets her pencil down. “Alright, let’s get those measurements done.” “Could you stand up for me?” I reluctantly comply. “Don’t take any of my clothes off,” I warn her, since that had been an issue yesterday. “I wouldn’t imagine it,” Twilight says. Her face droops in disappointment. After measuring my face, arms, and legs with measuring tape, she asks me a very embarrassing question, “I heard Bon Bon say, ‘him’. Does this imply that you have male genitals?” I choke on my own spit. “Are you okay?” she asks. “Yes,” my voice cracks. “I presume this conversation is making you uncomfortable. But don’t worry. I assure you that I’m only viewing this scientifically.” I sigh. “Yes, I’m a guy and that is as far as I’m willing to go to answer your questions.” She sighs. “I can’t force you to do anything, but let it be known that you are setting back the scientific community with your…inability to acquiesce.” The mood on her face darkens a little. “I can live with that.” Grumpily, Twilight gathers her belongings. As she leaves, she yells out, “Thanks for your cooperation!” in a high-pitched sarcastic voice. “You’re welcome!” I yell back, not to be outdone. Her purple form gallops away and I look at her with hatred. I shut the door that she had left open. Finally! She’s gone! Creak… I look at the source of the noise to see Lyra peeking out from her room. “I probably should have warned you about her,” her voice is flat, emotionless. I smile, “Why didn’t you?” “I didn’t think of it,” she drones on. We both pause. I start to feel a little worried. Is she mad at me? “Is it true? Is it true that you like cooked cow?” her voice remains monotonous, but little quavers betray her feelings. Shit… “Lyra—” I try to explain that it was all I’d known then. That it was ok to eat animals where I came from. That we made sure their deaths were quick. That it didn’t make us any worse for doing that. That I'm not really the monster she thinks I am. Instead, she shuts the door in my face. I walk up to her door, pleading, on my knees. “Lyra! Lyra please! I’m asking you to forgive me here. Back where I came from, it was ok! It was accepted! Please don’t look down on me for that. I bet you would’ve done the same thing too! How can you blame someone for fitting into society! I’m not a monster! I promise!” I feel like I want to throw up, so I sit down and rest my back on her door. My breaths come in shuddering gasps as I try to calm myself down. My body seizes up, but instead of vomit, tears of sadness that had been kept bottled up for years on end finally burst forward, making my mind an inferno of swirling emotion. I try to speak, but it only comes out as disconnected infant-speak. I feel shame, hearing myself, babbling on like a newborn. It accentuates the hurting of my heart as tightly-packaged emotions finally start to leave, torturously yanking themselves from my heartstrings. I shake violently, righteously against the cruelty that is life, finally done with holding everything in, pretending that things are ok, living in un-justified optimism. I listen in on Lyra as she weeps a song of betrayal, matching that of mine, right now. We produce a duet of pain and existence, expressing, in disgraceful glory, our discontent to whatever, whoever had a part in the creation of the world’s twisted remnants we call life.