//------------------------------// // The Horror... // Story: Dexter's Lab: Equestria // by RenegadeAlias //------------------------------// Disclaimer: I do not own the ponies, I do not own MLP, and I do not own Dexter from Dexter’s Laboratory. --- “Ooohhh . . . What does this button doooooo?” “Dee Dee Nooooo!!!” --- Dexter groaned as he rubbed his head. His vision was dark, but it was slowly returning with each passing blink. A constant beeping sound somewhere nearby managed to slightly aggravate his already pounding headache. He could not remember where he was or how he got there, which was rather troubling for the boy genius. Amnesia was never a good sign. “What in the world happened?” He said, pushing aside some light covers as he sat up. Doing his best to ignore the headache, he concentrated hard on trying to remember what had happened to him. The last thing he could recall was working in his secret laboratory, trying to build a machine that could generate artificial wormholes. That’s when the Pink Terror showed. At least, Dexter assumed it was the pink terror. This pink monstrosity was the utter bane of Dexter’s existence. Her pink girlish outfit and air-head level of intelligence always guided her into his precious lab, where she managed with near perfect consistency to push the wrong button at the wrong time. This had been a source of much anguish for Dexter, as her constant bad timing had cost him dearly before. And from the looks of it, it has cost him dearly again. He could remember working in his wormhole generator when the whine of capacitors charging caused him to look up. He could barely make out Dee-Dee’s golden locks of hair hovering just over the edge of the control panel. Instantly he was on his feet, fleeing toward the door. He shouted for her to stop the whole way. Unfortunately for him, the safety door had automatically closed. He was locked inside. He reached out for the manual override, only to find it missing. He had not installed it yet. At which point he muttered ‘figures’ before a blinding blue light washed over him. “Oh Dee Dee, how many times must I tell you NOT to push the buttons . . .” The boy genius sighed with poorly concealed aggravation. He was lucky to be alive and he knew it, though his new wormhole generator had probably been destroyed. “Stupid girl, always one neuron short of a synapse.” “Another day of science is ruined by that air-head sister of mine.” He lamented. “How can it get any worse?” . . . “Excellent, you’re awake!” Said a voice from nearby, it evidently belonged to a woman. Shifting his gaze upward he was able to see an unidentifiable mass approaching him. His eyesight was still recovering, and without his glasses he was practically blind. “We were afraid that you might have had some head trauma.” “Thank you, but I am quite alright.” Dexter said rather hastily. Until now he didn't notice that he wasn't in his laboratory, a fact which worried him. If anyone other than Dee Dee retrieved him after his accident, then the secrecy of his laboratory might be compromised. “I’m sure you are, but we’re just going to have a look-see just to make sure, okay? I am Nurse Redheart by the way.” The woman said as she approached, though her steps were accompanied by an odd clopping sound. “If you must,” Dexter answered. He wasn’t a fan of being poked or prodded by the nurse. But the genius inside him said that things would go a lot smoother, and quicker, if he let the nurse do her job. However, Dexter noticed something else that was strange about the sound of her steps. There were far too many of them, and they were a lot louder than they should be. In fact, his sense of smell also felt a lot more sensitive. “Can you tell me your name?” She asked almost too cheerfully. “I need to be able to call you something other than ‘little colt.’” That last word cause Dexter’s head to tilt in slight confusion. “My name is Dexter.” “Dexter?” She said, now her turn to be confused. “Are you sure you’re pronouncing that correctly?” “Umm… yes, My name is Dexter.” He affirmed, shifting uncomfortably. Dexter wasn’t a common name, but it definitely wasn’t unheard-of. He was slightly sensitive to it, as the mispronunciation ‘dorkster’ was used far more often than he liked. “Do you mind telling me where I am, and how I got here?” “Dex-stor? that’s a rather. . . unusual name.” She replied after scribbling something on a clipboard. “But to answer your question, you’re in the Ponyville medical clinic. You were brought here after a few local farmers found you on the road just outside of Ponyville. Though their story was sort of odd, they said they found you in a small crater.” “Ponyville? What kind of name is that?” Dexter said under his breath before speaking up. “They wouldn’t have happened to see a pair of glasses near where they found me?" “In fact, they did.” She replied, her cheerful tone returning. She pulled out the pair of glasses from somewhere behind her, Dexter knew because he could always recognize their gleam despite his poor vision. He greedily reached out, eager to get his sole means of seeing back, only for the glasses to bump off his outstretched limb and fall to the floor with a clack. “Oh don’t worry little fella, I’ll get it.” The kind nurse said as she picked them back up and gently pushed them onto Dexter’s face. Now, with his vision restored, Dexter could get a good look at the nice nurse who had WHAT THE FU- Standing before Dexter was a rather weird looking . . . horse thing. At least it was something like a horse as far as Dexter could tell. Its eyes were way too large for its head, and the rest of its face seemed disproportioned. She was also wearing what looked like a nurse's outfit. Her facial expression, implying far too many facial muscles any equine has any business having, slowly went from cheerful and encouraging to concerned and mildly alarmed. “Umm . . . Dexter?” She said, reaching out a hoof to his shoulder. “Are you okay?” She only got an eye-twitch in response. . . . “Gahh!!! Get away from me!” Dexter liked to think of himself as a calm, rational human being. But in the impending freak-out, he would be none of those three things. He was focused on getting the freakishly mutated equine away from him. “Dexter?!?” She said as her hoof was slapped away. Though Dexter would immediately regret doing that, during the swipe he managed to get a look at his own flailing limb. It was a long white leg with nothing but a stubbed end where his hand was supposed to be. Immediately he pulled his forelegs upward, to find his missing hands. Only a pair of white hooves greeted him. For a moment he only stared at them in silence, while the shocked nurse watched. “Dexter, what’s wrong?” The nurse asked with a worried voice. When he completely ignored her, still staring at his new hooves, she went to the door and signaled for assistance. “WHERE DID MY HANDS GO?!?” He shouted before trying to stand, only to topple off the bed and land face first on the floor. ---