Not\e/worthy

by YarnWeaver

Canned Heat

Sunday, P.E.08 - 11:24 A.M.
Santa Fe, TX - Somepony Perplexed

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm stumped.

I thought for sure that there was going to be some kind of lead with what Bartholomew found on that new political party.

The People Against Ponies Association.

I mean it makes the most logical sense!

But there wasn't anything we could possibly use to connect them to anything. They were only attached to protests and other political hearings, and Jack noted that the name wasn't even mentioned in the call he overheard, the call that we all know was about Danny's kidnapping.

But no.

There's no concrete proof.

The frame was torn apart in the storm, and we'd have to clear off the foundation and start again.

1:34 P.M.

Breakfast had ended a while ago, and while we continued to wait for a response from the police about Daniel, everyone was doing their own thing to pass the time. Jenny and Barty were in the office, my son searching for more potentially usable articles online, and my wife checking her Facebook for updates. James and I were in the Family Room watching Fox News on TV. Jack...well, after working a full overnight shift and investigating off-the-books I saw no reason to deny him one of our Guest Rooms to crash on for a few hours.

He's earned the rest, I'd say.

Unfortunately for me, most of the news was focusing on this somewhat confusing issues of the weeks now having enough named days to last a year before repeating and how that would impact the upcoming Presidential Election. To say that all of the arguing back and forth was complete and utter chaos was an understatement. I was glad when they finally switched to covering other stories, even if they were all about ponies.

Who's been changed? What are they doing? Where are they going? What's in their way? Who's gonna be hit with it next?

Why is this even happening in the first place?!

My annoyance burned out, I soon found my thoughts drifting back to one thing in particular: that one yellow polo.
Dwelling on it further, I realized that it was likely just the right size for me now, and that it would probably be very comfortable right now. I felt the twinge of longing again, and I wanted to go and put it on.

I need to put on that polo.

And I don't know why.

So, I turned to James and told him what's going on. I then asked him what he thought I should do about it.

"Well, I don't know, Dad. I've never even seen somepony who looks like you, and the only one who acts even remotely like the clown you were earlier is Pinkie Pie. As for the polo itself, I can't say I've seen many ponies even wear clothes in the show. The only significant example was the finale for Season 1, when everyone had gotten dressed up for the Grand Galloping Gala. We'd just finished that episode before Mom noticed that you were a pony."

I do remember that event being mentioned in one of the episodes I'd seen. After that whole cliche'd magical "adventure" they'd had in the first two episodes, they choose to end the first season with a social event? I'm hit by a sudden curiosity, but I hesitate. I've been feeling these strange sensations ever since this happened to me. They feel natural initially, and they seem relatively harmless, but I know they're not coming from me. It's obvious that some of the pony whose body this belongs to is bleeding through into me, and I don't find that revelation appealing.

Father,

This ordeal is becoming more complicated and confusing with each passing hour. Please, Father, give me Your Wisdom. I want to move forward in Your Will, not mine.

"Dad? What's wrong?"

James, who'd picked up on my apprehension, placed his hand around my shoulder...well, shoulders actually. I still have to get used to how small I am now.

Shaking my head to rid myself of my indecision, I turn and gaze up at my son.

"Jimmy, could you do me a favor and go grab that polo from the bed in my room?"

He's stunned for a moment, but he soon complies. I tap my hoof on my couch cushion and he takes the hint to lay the polo on the cushion in front of me.

It appears to be well worn but not weathered. The collar is turned down and creased. The stitching on the sleeve cuffs and hem is maybe a little loose but not too badly frayed. There are no buttons.

Of course, how would a pony fasten them, anyway?

The urge to just squeeze my head into the bottom opening, spread my forelegs through the sleeves and relish the old, familiar garment is thick and meaty, but I grill my mind for the source and press my resistance to it with everything I can muster.

I pause as I realize exactly what I'd been thinking about throughout those last two lines.

Then the further implications struck.

Oh, Father, it's getting even worse! Help me!

I shut my eyes.

I barely hear the sound of my son's worry.

Then, all is silent.

In that moment, I feel a well known peace surround me.

"It'll be okay."

He reminds me that He's always there for me. There's nothing my life can throw at me that He can't handle, as long as I stick by His side.

Father, I trust You.

I open my eyes again and am greeted by the completely mundane shirt.

It only takes a few seconds. I clamber to my hooves and admire my work.

Soon I hear movement in the Kitchen, and my family minus one soon dashes into the room.

This may take some time to explain.

3:32 P.M.

"Wait, so you're saying that it was the chicken that set you off like that on James? And you thought that since the polo was the only other article here that we know must've belonged to your pony, putting it on would've made you act even more like him and less like you? That's what this is about?"

Darling, you nailed it on the head.

I nod.

I couldn't help it. I was feeling really good. After explaining to them what I heard from God and the context in which I heard it, complete with my mental spewing of sandwich puns, they'd come down from their earlier panic. Thankfully.

"Then why are you still smiling like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like Goofy was at Lester's Possum Park."

Okay, I couldn't help it! I let out a large chuckle at that reference. A Goofy Movie was one of the very few Disney movies that Jenny and I agreed on to buy for our boys when they were young. I was against anything and everything that showcased Disney's usual brand of "storytelling magic". Of course I was also against anything that showcased magic of any kind, but that's beside the point.

This usually meant that fairy tales were out, and talking animals were in, to a certain degree.

A Goofy Movie, though, really surprised me. Most films, even nowadays, paint dads, fathers, male legal guardians, uncles, and even grandfathers as inept, uncaring, or just not even being in the picture to begin with. I've seen it mostly across the board. Most entertainment depicts men to be unable of handling themselves or keeping themselves in control without a woman there to take the lead, but Goofy, the most accident prone and klutzy cartoon character in Disney's library, is shown here in three dimensions.

He's caring and kind, wholly devoted to the well-being and success of his son while still being strict where he needs to be to avoid spoiling the boy. When the world laughs at him, he sees it as being surrounded by people who are having a great time, and he A-hyuck's right along with them. The whole dynamic that the movie builds between Goofy and Max as a parent who cares deeply about but unwittingly thoroughly embarrasses his son on a daily basis just by being himself and a son who loves his father dearly but is getting tired of living in his laughing-stock shadow is simply brilliant!

It's a story that constantly keeps me coming back, and I would be lying if I said I didn't identify with Goofy a little bit as he's portrayed there.

Wait, what was I talking about before?

This is why it took so long for me to get through my account of what just happened. I was repeatedly getting sidetracked by the smallest of things and would end up just jaunting down rabbit trail after vaguely related rabbit trail.

As for why I'm smiling right now?

"Why shouldn't I be? I've just received reassurance from God that everything's going to be okay! I'd say that's news to celebrate!"

"Well, if you say so, Honey, then I believe you."

"Hey, I know I'm up for less worrying about unfortunate implications and more focusing on future preparations."

"Now if everythings okay, does that mean you don't need me carrying you around anymore?"

I smirk, "I didn't say it was all okay now, just that it will be. So tough luck, son of mine."

I'm glad to say we all had a pleasant laugh at that.

"Uugghhhh..."

And just like that, we all stopped.

That wasn't anyone's voice that I know.

It came from the Guest Room.

Bartholomew was the first to connect the dots, "No, that couldn't have been Jack. Could it?"

We all rushed out of the Family Room, through the Kitchen and Dining Room and into the Living Room, to which the Guest Room was attached.

Jack had left the door open.

And all four of us were granted a front row seat to a much smaller collection of lumps tossing and turning under the covers.

Then I spotted something odd about how all those lumps were connected.

Wait...six? He's got six limbs?

Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of what laid beneath the covers as one such limb poked out from under the layers of fabric.

It was a wing...

...a bat wing.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I reached out with my right foreleg, grabbed the rubber chicken, and brought him to my side.

"Hold on tight, Boneless, this could get a little rough."