“Run! Rimshot, run!” Ernest awoke with a start, throwing white linen sheets off his body. The dream he had just had was far from pleasant. It had involved running from three giant centaur-like trolls through an endless forest. Each of the trolls wanted to do him harm, especially the white one with a pink and purple mane. That one looked especially mad.
Ernest surveyed his new surroundings. He found himself in a small, plain white room that had the distinct odor of a hospital.
“Eee-hee-ewww,” Ernest’s jaw worked from side to side as he sniffed the air.
He didn’t like the smell of hospitals; that’s one of the reasons he tended to avoid them. After all, hospitals were for other people who got hurt, not for real men like Ernest P. Worrell. Men of steel, men of courage, and men who don’t go to hospitals ‘cause they’re icky and full of people that want to shove sharp needles in you and say that it won’t hurt a bit.
Looking down at himself, he saw that he was dressed in a disgusting puke-green hospital gown. But on the bright side, his skin was no longer the color of a ripe lemon. Ernest shook his head at the hospital’s choice of color as he climbed out of bed. As he did so, throbbing pain in the back of his skull nearly caused him to black out.
“Owww! This hurts worse than going through the business end of my garbage truck, twice.”
He discovered that his head was covered in bandages. “That’s funny. I don’t remember . . . wait a minute.” Reality finally settled in on the human, as his brain recalled what happened to him last night.
“Oh, no! I’ve been captured by the troll-horse mutants!” Ernest exclaimed suddenly. “I’ve got to find that book Old Lady Hackmore gave me; maybe it’s got a section on troll mutants.”
A rough plan began to form in his mind.
He began to count off on his fingers, “Okay, all I got to do is bust out of this room, grab my clothes and the book, sneak out of . . .this troll mutant hide out, find Rimshot, whip up something that kills tiny horse-trolls, find my truck, find a way back to Briarville, and arrive just in time for Vern’s niece’s birthday party.”
Ernest laughed nervously to himself. “Eh-heh-heh-heh, lucky for me I have the element of surprise.”
At that moment the door to the human’s room opened. Ernest recoiled in surprise, tripping over a thankfully empty bedpan.
Two ponies stepped in. One was wearing a doctor’s coat, while the other was wearing a nurse’s uniform. The horse that looked like a doctor told the nurse, “Miss Red Heart, please help Mr. Worrell back into bed. It’s time for his treatment.”
Before the nurse could get to Ernest, the slippery human had already scampered back into bed and slid out the other side, trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the ponies.
“Don’t come any closer you two. I’m friends with the big man upstairs.” The sanitation engineer made a cross with his two index fingers to try and ward off the evil he believed was coming from the ponies. Unfortunately, it had little effect on the four-legged creatures.
“Mr. Worrell, please get back into bed,” Nurse Red Heart said patiently. “You are suffering from a concussion and a Mellow Yellow overdose. You’re probably hallucinating right now.” She tried to get past the bed that Ernest was wheeling around to block her. Meanwhile, the doctor was readying a syringe filled with a bright purple fluid.
Ernest considered this and asked, “So, you’re not talking horses or mutants in hospital uniforms? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Because this would make a lot more sense if you’d tell me that, you know what I mean?”
Nurse Red Heart sighed tiredly, “No, we really are real ponies, in a real hospital, wearing real uniforms.”
In reply, Ernest pointed a finger at her defiantly. “Yeah, I just bet you’d like for me to believe that. You troll-mutants brought me here to your secret troll laboratory to dissect me because I kissed your daddy troll and he exploded. Well, my friend, let me tell you something; Old Stunty McSquid Lips had it comin.’ What do you say to that?”
The nurse replied deadpan, “I’d say you’re a few colors short of a rainbow, if you were thinking clearly. Now get in the bed!” the nurse commanded, “or you won’t get any dessert tonight!”
The human’s eyes grew wide with surprise. He had been shouted at before, but this was like being yelled at by his mom. Despite Ernest towering over the pony, the biting command in her voice almost compelled him to obey her. Almost.
Ernest shook his head to clear his mind, which he immediately regretted because it sent new waves of pain and nausea from his head down into the pit of his stomach.
Despite the discomfort, the Troll Fighter continued, “Nice try mutant, but you’re gonna have to use your mind control powers better than that to get the drop on old Ernest.”
While rubbing his eyes in exasperation, the doctor pony put down the syringe and turned around to face the troublesome biped. “We don’t have time for this. Mr. Worrell, if you would please cooperate and let us help you, I will prove to you that we are not mutants, trolls, or whatever else you claim that we are. We’re ponies, but we won’t hurt you. I promise you everything will be explained.”
Ernest’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he processed the doctor’s words. He relaxed slightly and asked, “Alright, but if you’re not mutants, then how do you know my name? Can you read my brain? Did you suck the information out of me with a thought-sucking vacuum?” Ernest gasped as he asked, “Did you probe me? You probed me, didn’t you?”
The doctor fished out a card from one of the pockets on his white uniform and handed it to Ernest. It was the human’s driver’s license.
“Oh.” Ernest said. He coughed and quickly changed the subject. “You’re lucky I didn’t attack the two of you the second you came through the door. Otherwise I’d put you both in my famous Worrell headlock. It’s where I grab you by the neck, spin you around, and . . .”
Ernest continued talking as nurse Red Heart gently helped him back into bed. She nodded her head every now and then, pretending she was paying attention to the biped’s ramblings.
Then the doctor was by Ernest’s side with the syringe. The human’s lips puckered in terror as he saw the unfriendly device. “Hey, wait a second! You didn’t say anything about a needle. I’m--I’m allergic to needles! Ask my nurse friend at Kamp Kikakee. She hasn’t given me a shot since the last time.”
To Ernest’s shock, he found that he could not rise from the bed. The nurse pony was surprisingly strong for her size as she wordlessly held the human down with seemingly little effort.
The doctor smiled and said, “Relax. This won’t hurt a bit.”
“Yeah, well I don’t see people lining up outside the door to get shot. What does that tell ya?” Ernest replied frantically as his hand gripped something metallic.
To him it felt like a small lever.
Before the doctor pony could inject Ernest with the purple substance, the Troll Fighter gave the lever a hard yank.
The bed tilted upwards and Ernest slid down the improvised ramp, escaping the clutches of nurse Red Heart who was left holding Ernest’s hospital gown.
Coming to a smooth stop on the tiled floor, Ernest got to his feet in a hurry yelling, “WHHAAAAHHH! Cold floor! Cold floor!”
Recovering from the antics of their now nude patient, the doctor and the nurse pursued Ernest out of the room. Looking left and right down the hallway, they didn’t see hide or hair of the tall biped. The nurse took off down one end of the hallway while the doctor raced down the other.
As the two ponies went their separate ways, a door opened a few feet away. Out stepped an old, cranky lady wearing a neck brace, leaning heavily on a walker. “That’s the story of my life. One minute I’m out having a pleasant walk in the woods, the next I’m waking up in a hospital that’s staffed by talking quadrupeds. I must be sure to file a complaint with this establishment’s manager on my way out for hiring such unsanitary creatures.”
Auntie Nelda slowly but surely made her way to the elevator. Right before she pushed the button, the doors opened and several male ponies dressed like hospital orderlies rushed out. The old lady raised an eyebrow as she watched them go. “Typical behavior of the youth these days, not even bothering to hold the doors open for an old lady in need of assistance. I weep for the future of this generation.”
From inside the elevator another old lady’s voice was heard. “Oh them fellars ain’t so bad. I heard a rumor that a six foot tall streaker has done escaped his room on this here level. I reckon that’s why they’re in such a powerful hurry.”
The old lady with the walker poked her head in the elevator and saw an aged, light green pony with an apple pie on her flank holding the door for her.
Auntie Nelda slowly made her way into the elevator. “Is that right? Well, I certainly hope they catch that fellow. Heaven knows there’s enough insanity outside these walls. We don’t need any more in here, especially with these incompetent know-it-all doctors and nurses.”
The other pony laughed, “Heh, heh, Amen sister.” She turned to face the newcomer and offered Auntie Nelda her hoof as the elevator doors closed. “Granny Smith of the Apple Family. Are ya new here? I’ve never seen you at the physical therapy sessions before.”
Auntie Nelda awkwardly tried to shake the old pony’s hoof with her heavily bandaged hand. “It’s a pleasure, my dear. It’s nice to find a fellow citizen who’s been around the proverbial block a time or two and lived to tell about it. I’m Auntie Nelda, and I apologize for all this repulsive gauze. I must look like a mummy’s mummy. I’ve just had a rather unpleasant surgery on my face, as well as some other extremities. Those namby, pamby physicians said I had to stay in bed and relax, but I found sleep hard to come by with all the noise in this bloody place.”
Granny Smith snickered, “Yeah, there’s always some sort of hoot-a-nanny going on here. I hear Pinkie Pie will be entertaining us old folks at dinner time. Then this place will really get to hoppin.’ I don’t blame ya at tall fer wanting to flex yer bones till then. Why today, I had this here hip replaced with one of them fancy, new-fangled magic plastic ones.” She then leaned in close and whispered to Auntie Nelda, “Now don’t tell anypony, but I ain’t really supposed to be up and about neither. If my grand younguns knew about this, they’d rake me over the coals.” She snickered again and said, “I’m sure glad that other pony broke out and gave me this here chance to escape.”
Auntie Nelda nodded her head. “Yes, perhaps he isn’t that ill-natured after all. Just misunderstood, like my son. He’s always getting himself into trouble. I was blessed with two children you see; one good and one bad, and wouldn’t you know it, the good one dies.”
Granny Smith opened her mouth and closed it abruptly, unsure of how to respond. Thankfully, the elevator doors opened on the ground level. Quickly she said, “Oh, will ya look at that? This here is my stop.” As Granny Smith walked out of the elevator, she said to Auntie Nelda, “Well, friend, it was good visitin with ya. But I best be gettin on to the Little Fillies’ room.”
Auntie Nelda waved at her as the pony hobbled out of the elevator. “Tah, tah, Granny Smith, until our next encounter.”
Looking ahead, Auntie Nelda saw that the hospital lobby was packed with noisy ponies. Auntie Nelda grumbled, “It figures that son of mine would dump his poor mother off at an animal shelter to be put down. I at least like to think I have many years of life left in me and do not need to be euthanized just yet.”
As Auntie Nelda slowly made her way to the exit, three ponies stepped through the entrance. One of them was so excited she could hardly contain her enthusiasm. The pony was attracting the attention of everyone in the hospital.
“Pinkie, calm down,” the winged unicorn at her side hissed. “We don’t want to make a scene.”
“Sorry, Twilight, I can’t help it. This is my first time in a long-long-long–long-long while throwing a Pinkie Party here at the hospital, and I want everything to be perfect.” She started to breathe into a paper bag to calm herself down.
“You had a party here last Tuesday,” Twilight replied dryly.
“So long!” Pinkie Pie gasped.
Twilight rolled her eyes, “Focus, Pinkie. We all need to be calm when we meet this creature the Cutie Mark Crusaders ran into last night.” This last sentence was directed more to Twilight’s other companion, a white unicorn with a curled violet mane.
The white unicorn replied in a clipped and proper manner, “Point taken, Twilight. Now let’s get this over with. I want to look this pervert in the eye as I choke him with my own two hooves.”
She stood up on her hind legs and mimed strangling the perpetrator.
Twilight frowned, “Rarity, no! We can’t just jump to conclusions about what happened. We need to hear his side of the story. We don’t have all the facts yet.”
Pinkie Pie chimed in excitedly, “Yeah, Twilight’s right. I mean it’s not as if Sweetie Belle’s experience will scar her for the rest of her life. I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”
Rarity glared at the pink pony. “It most certainly won’t be alright. My sister and her friends were brutally attacked. This monster must pay for its crimes!”
As the three friends and Auntie Nelda crossed paths, Pinkie Pie bumped into the tall old lady leaning on the walker.
“Whoops, sorry, Ma’am.”
“Think nothing of it, dear. I went through the same stages of nicotine withdrawal myself when I decided to quit smoking a few decades ago. I was as jittery and jumpy as a fly in a bug spray factory. It is a long and painful process, but keep at it. You’ll survive,” Auntie Nelda said.
Pinkie Pie blinked and replied, “Uh, thanks? Hey, my name’s Pinkie Pie. You’re new to Ponyville, aren’t you?”
The old lady shook Pinkie’s hoof. “Well, you caught me. I am indeed new . . . Well, I used to be, eighty years ago. I’m Auntie Nelda, and I’m charmed to meet you. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I believe I left my truck running in the parking lot.”
Twilight and Rarity exchanged alarmed glances.
Unperturbed Pinkie Pie continued, “Oh, this is great! You have to come to Sugarcube Corner so we can throw you a proper Ponyville welcome party! By the way, what’s a truck?”
Auntie Nelda raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm, I see that the school system in this part of the state hasn’t been doing its job very well. I would stay here and enlighten you about the wonders of modern-day transportation, but alas, my truck is suffering from heat stroke. Now, if you would please step aside, I shall be on my way.”
Not moving, Pinkie asked, “Is a truck a thingy made of metal, standing on four rubbery wheels, and has a whole bunch of random stuff sticking out the front of it?”
“Yes, that sounds like it. That mechanic son of mine claims to have fixed my vehicle by modifying the engine. Frankly, I think the only thing he’s done is make a minor problem ten times worse. He’s got a terrible habit of doing that. I wonder where he is now? He was supposed to pick his poor old mother up from the hospital twenty minutes ago. Instead, he’s probably out hot-rodding or doing whatever else his raging hormones need him to do.”
Pinkie Pie smiled and declared, “I think I know where your truck is.”
“You’re the creature that the Crusaders encountered last night, aren’t you?” Twilight grunted, struggling to hold Rarity back. The white unicorn was livid.
Knowing that the game was up, Auntie Nelda stood upright without aid and said in an annoyed masculine voice, “Oh, well. It was getting pretty hot in this monkey suit anyway, you know what I mean?”
All three ponies stared with their mouths open as they watched Auntie Nelda transform into a man as she removed her bandages and dress. Standing before them was a tall biped in blue jeans, a grey T-shirt, and a denim vest. The human then fished out a hat from his jeans pocket, put it on his bandaged head, and said enthusiastically, “The name’s Ernest P. Worrell, ladies, and it is nice to meet ya.”
As Ernest held out his hand he found himself on the ground underneath the four hooves of the white unicorn with violet hair. The last thing he saw was a hoof slamming into his face.