SOMEHOW, however strange the idea was of having a talking animal based on a line of children's toys for a lover, the idea of a romantic rival based on a line of children's toys was even stranger. Before the trip to Markowski Ranch, I'd been thinking about Peach whenever my mind was unoccupied at work. Now, I was thinking just as much about George. And I didn't like it.
I can recognize an unhealthy obsession as much as the next guy. Honestly, that's part of why I made sure to get Meg's number at the restaurant. To give my mind options. So that I could remind myself that I'm a human being with an interest in other human beings, and that this pony thing was just the latest development to come through my life.
It wasn't working. My thoughts kept drifting back to Peach, who just wanted to stay friends for now, and George... who was my friend too. I had to keep telling myself that, reminding myself that he'd always been nice to me, or I started getting angry. I fantasized about punching his smug worldly face in. Waiting for him to start saying something in his fake Liverpudlian accent and then bashing him again. I hated myself for these thoughts. I didn't need a therapist to see what was going on—obviously I had a major thing for Peach despite what I'd told myself before, and not knowing where I stood with her just made it worse.
I couldn't talk to my work friends about this. I couldn't call up someone like Laurie or Garrett—too much to explain. And I certainly wasn't going to tell my family about it. So I was kind of stuck.
You might think talking to Peach herself would kind of defeat the point. But that actually did feel like the best solution. Somehow, as neurotic as Peach could be about her intellectual quest, spending time with her usually felt pretty chill. I supposed one reason I liked her so much was how easy she made it for me to feel comfortable.
She'd invited me over Wednesday evening to help set up her blog, so I did my best to take it easy until then. When I arrived, she was deep in frustration, sitting with all four hooves on the seat of a black swivel chair and staring daggers at her computer.
“Uh oh,” I said. She swiveled toward me, overshot, and spun all the way around again before hopping off.
“Pepper! I'm so glad you're here.” Peach leapt up and hugged me, so I hugged her back. It was good to know that fell under the heading of just being friends.
Whatever had been in my head flew away. “I had a great time Sunday,” I said.
“Yeah. Me too.” She plopped back to all fours. “Want something to drink? I think this blog thing is gonna be a challenge.”
She had a big bottle of a thick mango-based health drink in her fridge, so I indulged. “Computer troubles?”
She sprawled on a big pile of pillows and sipped her juice blend like it was alcoholic. “Your whole computer... infrastructure architecture thing is a nightmare. Remember how we decided your world is more complicated than mine?”
“Yeah, I know. Computers can be awful. But they do amazing things, right?”
“Celestia can do amazing things. Twilight Sparkle can do amazing things. These things?” She waved a back hoof toward the computer. “They're pretty cool. But I dunno if they pass the 'amazing' threshold.”
I drank. “I think that threshold might be higher for you than for me.”
“Yeah?” She drank and wiped her muzzle. “Then why was I the one who went all gaga in that Wall Store? And why was it me who got so crazy about horses on Sunday?”
“You thought they were amazing?”
She had to think about that. “Maybe not them, exactly. The connection. It's amazing that a butterfly comes from a cocoon, right?”
It was nice to have something we could agree on. “Right.”
I held my glass out. Peach frowned, but clinked it with her own. We both drank.
“Well, it's amazing that we ponies,” and she indicated herself, “came from them. I'm still wrapping my head around it.”
“I don't suppose it would help for me to say that you didn't come from Terran ponies.”
“Not really.”
“Because you'd just say...”
“...we might as well have.”
“Right.”
“You always say that.”
“It's always true.”
I took a big gulp. My palate was coated in mango.
“So we're amazed by different things,” I admitted. “I guess it's true, I'm not as amazed by computers as I ought to be. Guess I'm used to 'em.”
“Well I'm not. And if I'm amazed at all, it's that anyone gets anything done. Half the windows on my screen don't have any instructions and the other half don't make any sense.”
That certainly didn't sound good. I set down the juice and climbed over to her computer. “Nice chair,” I said, sitting down. “Where'd you get it?”
“At an office supply store! I got my second paycheck yesterday!”
I swiveled toward her. “I thought most of that paycheck was either going rent or toward paying me back for the TV set.”
She shrank back on her pillow pile. “You know what? You're right. Let me pay you back right now. What was it, six hundred dollars?” She got up and stepped carefully from the pillows toward her dresser.
“About that, yeah. But are you gonna have enough left for rent?”
She thought for a few moments. “Yeah. I'll have thirty-some bucks left.”
“So you'll have to live on thirty-some bucks for the next two weeks?”
Peach scowled and stamped the floor. “See, Pepper? Your world's being complicated again. What am I supposed to do?”
I sighed. “How about you pay me back half, and the other half out of your next check?”
She looked ashamed. “Okay.”
“And don't make any more big purchases for a while, okay? This chair looks expensive.”
She hung her head. “Okay.”
Being human, I couldn't not go over and hug her, so I did. Gently. “It'll be okay. Your job pays a lot better than mine, I'll tell you that.”
“Doesn't seem fair.”
I withdrew, smiling. “No? Well, you went to vocational school. I didn't.”
“I only have this job 'cause I'm a unicorn.”
What could I say to that? “Well, you take what life gives you, I guess.”
“Except it didn't,” she muttered.
I paused, returning to the swivel chair. “Pardon?”
Peach met my eyes. “Pepper, what does it mean to you that I'm a unicorn?”
“I... have to admit, that's one question I'm not prepared for. Um... it means you're awesome?”
I was looking at a skeptical face. “You're just saying that.”
“I guess I am. Okay. Honest answer. It means you're exotic. You're amazing... to me anyway, even if not to you. But I like you aside from your being a unicorn. Honest, I do.”
She looked flattered, but shook her head. “No, I know you do, and that means a lot to me. But that's not my point. Sure, I'm different. But is that all? You don't expect me to be... pure, for example? Pure-hearted and graceful?”
“Ohh. You mean... like a unicorn is supposed to be?”
Peach's head jerked up. “Aha! So you do have preconceptions!”
Oh gosh. That had been a poor choice of words. “Peach, are you really comparing yourself to... legendary unicorns?”
“I kind of have to, don't I? They're a part of me, too.”
“But they don't exist, Peach. They never existed!”
“I know.” She grinned a lip-biting grin. “But they're still part of who I am, so I've got to get to know them. Hold on a mo'.” She hurried over to her dresser and levitated out three books. I could see the unicorns on their covers before they even reached my hands.
“The Lore of the Unicorn? Unicorns in Myth and Culture? Peach... I don't mind that you want to learn about traditional unicorns, but you've gotta realize... My Little Pony took that whole idea and...” I had to be very careful what I said next. “They transformed it. They made unicorns into people, Peach. Not just symbols, and not just... vessels of purity. But actual people with personalities and flaws. It's... I just don't want you to try and measure up to the kind of stuff you'll find in here,” and I tapped the books, “when the reality is something completely different.”
“Why shouldn't I try and measure up? And why shouldn't you? At least some of the unicorns in these books represent... human ideals for how a living being should be, right? If I understand it right, these are the greatest creatures, the most admirable creatures your civilization has come up with. Shouldn't everyone be trying to become more like them?”
I changed the subject slightly. “Do your people have any kind of ideal creature that you try to live up to?”
“Well... yeah, obviously. The alicorn.”
“Oh. Duh.” I joined her on the pillows with the books in my lap. “So, alicorns are to Equestrian unicorns as unicorns are to humans?”
“I guess. Except, you know. We didn't make up alicorns.”
It really did feel weird, every time I thought of Celestia really existing, somewhere in the world, doing something right now. But then I remembered seeing that episode in Wal-Mart. The thought that Crackle really existed was even weirder. “Well, it's not like alicorns never make mistakes.”
Peach smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I know. Sometimes it seems like Celestia makes mistakes just so she can seem more... relatable. Like one of us.”
“Well, that and so Twilight could shine.”
“Right, right. Sombra, Tirek, the Glen Troll... I remember when the conspiracy crowd started buzzing about how Celestia could've dealt with any of them on her own, or at least with help from Luna, and how they were just letting Twilight take care of things so she could fulfill her cosmic destiny... I'll tell you, I was flabbergasted when she admitted it was true! I felt hurt, like she'd been gambling with her whole kingdom just for her own pet project.”
“Maybe she was,” I said. “I didn't really have a chance to be surprised, since I wasn't watching the show... I just found out about everything in a big lump, like most people.”
“All for Twilight Sparkle's destiny,” Peach groused. “And now she produces a reality TV show.”
I laughed. “You can't argue with destiny!”
“Well, her story's not over. But still. It's not just that. Celestia's constantly doing things like leaking pictures of herself gorging on doughnut cake and letting folks publish unauthorized biographies, just so she can keep her image... I don't know, flawed.”
“Do you get the idea it's false modesty?”
“No, I don't. I kind of wish I did. I get the idea it's real modesty, and it just makes me admire her more.”
“Is Celestia your hero, then? Do you try to live like her?”
Peach shook her head, falling into thought.
“Maybe you don't have anything like our unicorns, then. I mean, alicorns may be amazing, sure, but they're still people with their own problems.”
Peach took a strained breath. “Phoenixes,” she said.
I was caught off guard. “Really?”
“Kind of. They're supposed to be pure, but a cleansing kind of pure. If a phoenix decides to care about something, it won't back down, and it'll use fire.”
“Care about something? Like what?”
Like about ending something horrible, like slavery. Phoenixes fought slavery in the Minnow Empire. They probably would've fought King Sombra if they'd been around in the north back then. Or sometimes they'll fight for peace and scream fury at anyone who's aggressive.”
“Huh!”
She took a drink. “Usually if a phoenix gets involved, it's some big political thing. But sometimes they'll latch onto something little like a domestic disturbance. I never saw a phoenix in real life, but there's a story that one came through Witherton a hundred years ago and wouldn't leave until the mayor and his wife made up.”
“Wow. So you do have creatures that represent purity, then.”
“Yeah. Except, again—we didn't make them up.”
I smacked my tongue. “Well, there you go. Equestrians really don't need fantasy, do you?”
“Maybe not,” said Peach, turning back toward the computer. “What I need is to understand more of reality. Like right now, I need to understand why this FTP client or whatever it is won't take my domain information.”
I snapped into helper mode. “Right. For starters, I can see from here half those windows are pop-ups.”
“Pop-ups?”
“Yeah, they show up when you go to a website or install software you probably shouldn't. Like, that one there? That's just an ad for software you don't need.”
“Why would...” Peach hopped into the swivel chair, so I dragged the ottoman over to sit next to her. “Why would it tell me to buy something I don't need?”
“For... for money? Come on, Peach. You can't tell me Equestria's so pure no one tries to cheat anyone.”
“Pff, no. But I didn't think anyone was trying to cheat me here!” She gestured to the screen. “I mean, the computer is a tool! You mean there are people trying to cheat me inside my tool?”
I chuckled. “It does sound pretty awful when you put it like that. But you're not just dealing with your own computer. You're dealing with the internet. It's like you're going outside, only not physically.”
“Great. So I've got to deal with people like the Flim Flam Brothers right here in my own apartment.”
“You've just got to be careful. Here, let me get this under control.”
Peach yielded the chair, and I set myself to sorting out her problems. And she had a lot of them. I wound up installing antiviral and anti-malware programs before doing anything else. And uninstalling a bunch of junk she'd obediently installed—some of it, she'd even paid for. I tried to be as kind about it as I could, but Peach got more and more ashamed.
Eventually, to cheer her up, I suggested that she read to me from her unicorn books while I was working. She bounced at the chance.
“Okay, so not all your unicorn legends make us out to be so great,” she told me. “Some of these descriptions are really bizarre.”
“Oh yeah? Read me one.”
As I labored through the confusing help system provided by Peach's domain host, Peach read to me in equally laborious Middle English, but with a mischievous tone:
“'Monoceros is an Unycorne: and is a ryght cruell beast.' Oh, way to get on our good side, Isidore of Seville! 'And hath that name for he hath in the mydull of the forehed an horne of foure fote long.' Wow. Unrealistic standards much? 'And that horne is so sharpe & so stronge that he throwyth downe al or thyrleth al that he resyth on.' Thryleth? Oh okay, that means 'pierces'. Yikes. '...And this beest fyghtyth ofte wyth the Elyphaunt and woundyth & stycketh hym in the wombe, and throwyth hym downe to the grounde.' Wow. That's what unicorns are supposed to do? Skewer bull elephants in the womb? Okay then. '...And the Unycorn is so stronge that he is not take with myghte of hunters.' Oh yeah, unicorns are definitely known for strength. That's why all the farmers and construction workers are unicorns, right? Oh, I love this next bit. 'But men that wryte of kynde of thinges meane that a mayde is sette there he shall come: And she openyth her lappe and the Unycorne layeth theron his heed, and levyth all his fyerinesse & slepyth in that wyse: And is taken as a beest wythout wepen & slayne wyth dartys of hunters.' So! Yeah, I love how apparently all unicorns are male, or at least we all looove women. Hey Pepper?”
I was preoccupied but amused. “Yeah?”
“You wanna catch me, you won't be able to do it with hunters. Spears and darts or whatever? Not enough. I'm too tough for that.”
I grinned without looking away from the screen. “I'll keep that in mind.”
“But I've got a weakness. I love virgins. Virgin maidens. They're awesome. I'll take two.”
I tried entering a new directory path in Peach's client. “Should I be jealous?” I asked.
“Already told you, I don't know what good jealousy does. But yeah, you probably should be. 'Cause the first thing I'm gonna do when that maiden 'opens her lap'? I'm just gonna stick my head in there and fall asleep. 'Cause that's my bag. That's how Peach rolls.”
I couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. Peach laughed too.
“So tell me,” I prompted, playing along. “Why's she got to be a virgin? I mean, it's not like you're... you know, interested in her like that, right?”
“Oh, no no. No, it's this aura of innocence virgins have around them. You mean you can't feel it? It's totally the bomb. Oh, but this other book says it's about moistness. Some Middle Ages scholar said he thought virgins are cool and moist and make the air nice for unicorns. Makes sense to me!”
I giggled. “I don't know what they were thinking.”
She tapped a book with a unicorn posing in front of a crescent moon on the cover. “I think it's because both unicorns and virgins are connected to the moon. Virgins like the moon because it's... I don't know, it's soulful, and we unicorns just like the moon 'cause it's pointy, like our horns.”
“...The moon is pointy.”
“Well, the crescent moon is! You'd better be careful, you could cut yourself on that.”
I stared. “I can't actually tell if you're joking. Is the Equestrian moon actually pointy when it's a crescent?”
She laughed in a whole new way, like she'd gotten me. “No! It's round and it only looks like a crescent because that's the part the sun's shining on!”
“Okay, right, same with ours.”
“And yet you guys didn't know that until what, a thousand years ago? Whereas all my ancestors had to do was just ask Princess Luna, and she'd tell them!”
“You seem to find this really funny.”
“Isn't it? These books are hilarious. In one description, it says a unicorn's horn is black, seven feet long, and floppy like a turkey's comb except when it's fighting. And another one says a unicorn mother has fourteen huge udders, all as big as a cow's or bigger! I mean, there's not even room! I'd have to have udders all the way up my face and over my head.”
We both laughed like children. I went and drained the last of my mango juice, then sat on the pillows. “So I hope you're learning not to take what we think unicorns are like seriously,” I remarked.
She found her own juice and joined me. “Actually? It's rich. It's funny rich, but it's food-for-thought rich, too. I mean because, as ridiculous as most of this stuff is,” and she tapped the books again, “somehow a big part of me and my people came out of it. Really, the crazier these unicorn stories are, the more answers I've got to find.”
“Like... how you could grow fourteen udders if you really tried?”
She stuck out her tongue. “Like how a monster turns into a perfect creature, and how that becomes a person.”
I sighed. “Peach... It was just a TV show. Just a TV show made to sell toys.”
“But humans invented that show,” she pressed. “All the pony shows! They created them to be appealing, and they wouldn't be appealing if they weren't drawn from culture. And that makes there's something appealing about making this...” She tapped a pearly white unicorn on the cover of one of the books. “...more like this!” And she gestured to herself. “And I'm going to find what that is, and when I do? I'm putting it on my blog.”
I took that as my cue to get back to work. “Far be it from me to stand in your way,” I said. I saw her grinning in the corner of my eye.
Over the next two hours, in between answering my questions, Peach read me more excerpts from the unicorn books. We laughed, but the whole time I kept in mind that every fact and every passage meant something to her. We finally got her domain—peachonearth.com—responsive and settled on a blogging platform. We picked skins and settings together. And at last, well into the night, I yielded the swivel chair and threw myself onto the pillows in order to let Peach write the very first entry of her brand new blog.
It took her a while, even though she warned me it wasn't going to be very long. I was patient. At last, Peach declared that she was done, and I sat down on the corner of the ottoman to be her very first reader.
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[Posted 6/13/18 by Peach]
My name is Peach Spark, and I'm a unicorn. I can do magic with sheer willpower, using a horn that grows out of my head. I can lift things without touching them and carve a complicated picture on a grain of rice. I am a magical being.
Do I live in a magical land of wonder and whimsy? Well, I'll let you be the judge. I live in New Jersey, USA. Earth. What do you think?
So what's a nice filly like me doing in a place like this?
I'll tell you what. Read this blog, and you'll find out.
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