DANDELION
“So, how do they make them into rectangles like this? Some magic?”
“A cutting machine, more likely.” Giggles Sue with a smile. “There are some food that are magically made by unicorns, but some folks get nervous about it. There’s been a few scares about side effects.”
“Proven not to be true, of course, but that doesn’t stop people worrying about it. Soda?”
“Please.”
Harold nods as he puts down a can next to me as I take another bite out of the muesli bar. Thank Luna these two were here with these, or I would be a goner. Apparently coming to this… Urth? I think it’s what Sue called it? Anyway, apparently popping in like I did make ponies super hungry. Fair enough, what with us going through… Space? Time? Maybe a different dimension entirely? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask these ERRA guys about all this.
…
“Hey, so these ERRA guys that’re coming, do you know any?”
“We both are from ERRA, actually!” Sue giggles, not knowing I can totally see into her top with the way she’s bending down to me. (Don’t look at the meat mounds, don’t look at the meat mounds… Darn it, I looked at the meat mounds. What is it with those things that’s making it hard to look away?) “Not around here, though. We’re both in the Manhattan branch.”
Oh! Well, lucky me! Besides from the sudden change of location, everything’s coming up Dandelion tod-
Wait…
“MANhattan?”
“Yeah…” Harold sighs as he fixes the position of his glasses with his... weird pointy things. (I’ll study up on the biology of these hoo-mangs later about those... Maybe the meat mounds too while I’m at it.) “It’s kind of weird, but for some reason there are some similarities to the pony world and this one. Place names, for instance. Manehattan there, and Manhattan here. Oatstralia, Australia. Prance, France. Ponies say the places look like each other too, which raises confusion even more.”
“Yeah, I can imagine that…” That’s freaky. They don’t have puns in their place names. Well, minus Manhattan, I guess. “So, Manhattan and Manehattan are kind of the same?”
“From what we heard, yeah. Good chance they’ll take you there to make it easier for you to fit in… Oooh!” Sue squeals with delight like an idea just sprang into her head. “Maybe she can move in with us?”
Harold smiles with glee, hugging his wife. “That’s a great idea, Pumpkin-Butter!” He turns to me. “That way you’ll learn about humans first hand and you’ll get used to being around humans in no time!”
“And I couldn’t agree more! But maybe, Mister Greenswich, I’ll take her there and you two keep enjoying your honeymoon.”
The two stand up in attention as I turn behind me.
“Y-yes, Mister Miff sir.”
There stands a brown-skinned man with no mane what so ever, but a coat and an eye-patch that says ‘You aim anything at me, it better be able to fit into your mouth because you’ll be eating it.’
Hoof’s hovering above Floret, anyway.
“No need for the crossbow, ma’am. I mean no harm. My name is Fred Miff, I am the head of the Manhattan Branch of ERRA. And you are Miss…?”
“Dandelion.” Nice and short answers. Means you get to the bottom of things quicker.
Fred nods. “Do you mind if I call you Miss Lion?”
“I’m fine with anything, as long as you don’t call me Dandy. The last pony who did that had his face go through his own table.”
This sends look my way from the married couple. “It’s hard to get respect as a MPD filly.” I shrug.
“Alright, Miss Lion.” Mister Miff says with a smile that doesn’t really suit his face. “I’m guessing Harold and Sue have told you about what we do.”
“Yeah. Sounds simple. Find Ponies, put them in safe homes, and make them fit into society… That about wrap it up?”
He turns to Harold.
“Really Harold, the ‘94 version?”
Harold somehow stands even more to attention. “Decided to go for the short version before you got here, Mister Miff Sir.”
“Oh, I see… Well, I’ll fill her in on the rest on the flight home.”
Flight home? I never really rode by pegasi-driven chariot before. Never rode in any chariot, honestly. Good luck getting a taxi in Manehattan.
Mr Miff kneels down before me. “Tell me, Miss Lion. Do you want a job as well as a helping hand?”
A Job? They got a job for me in this ERRA thing? What does an organistion called the Equine Recovery and Rehabilitation Association want with somepony like me?
… Well, one way to find out.
“…Sure. One question though.”
Rick smiles. “Is that question going to be ‘What’s a hand’?”
PINEAPPLE RICE
That is most definitely a certain someone’s hand.
The feel of rubber onto my face can’t be found anywhere else than that certain someone’s hand.
“Hey, PR! Wake up!”
Well, that confirms it to be exactly who I thought it was. Doctor Macadamia, our forensic scientist. Or as everyone else in the place calls her, Maxi the friendly neighbourhood Humy. Humies are-
“C’mon, PR! Wake up! I got news from the lovebirds!”
News from the lovebirds from IT already? I’d better get up.
As I arise from my office hammock, looking into the direction of Maxie. She’s standing on her hind legs, wearing custom built shoes that make them appear as human feet. Also makes for great sup-WOAH!
*Thud*
Ah, right in the muzzle! Had to go face first on my desk. Ah well, at least it wasn’t the floor this time.
Ah crap. I think I broke my desk label…
PINEAPPLE RICE –
Yeah. Yeah I did. Where’s the other half… Ah! Here it is!
- DETECTIVE
Every time I see that word Detective, I go all nostalgic about the good ol’ days when I was just a ten year old mascot for ERRA and all we did was make new arrivals fit in; not the general pony-related crime fighters we are today. Hey don’t get me wrong, I love being a detective more than a poster colt, helps me use my noodle, but I sort of wish this was it used to be and have me and the rest of the crime squad go and become some other organisation. Maybe because ERRA’s always been about the care and protection of us equine immigrants. That’s the only way I can wrap my head around it.
I’ll just put these halves of my desk label close together, whoever doesn't know probably won’t notice.
Wait, didn’t I have something while I was… QUEENIE!
“Please tell me you can see my uke and it is fine.” Queen Formosa, my ukulele was the only thing of mine from the pony world besides the shirt from my back. It’s been from our home in Ohana Islands, to Manehattan helping me get bits off strangers, to Hawaii getting cash from folks there, to Manhattan where we are today.
Maxi holds my old faded baby in her surprisingly well-gripped fake hands. “Took it off you before I started poking. Thought it would be preventing a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Good thinking, Maxi. Thanks.” I reply as I get handed back my Queenie. “So, how’re Sue and Harold on their honeymoon?”
“Get this; they got an arrival.” She says as she signals me to walk with her on the way to get coffee.
“Wow,” I say as I stagger to the door. “Babies get made that easily?”
“NO! As in pony arrival! God Damn PR, how many brain cells did you lose in that pratfall?”
I shake my head a little. “Well, it was right on the muzzle.”
“Owch.” Says the humie as we hit the kitchen. “Anyway, apparently the filly’s a cop that got a little freaked out about the sudden change, who can blame her, so she went at them with a crossbow! Can you believe that shit happening on a honeymoon?”
Now that’s a shame. Those two just want to be different form all the other honeymooners by not going to a tropical place for their honeymoon and this is what they get? Well, that’s just official, I’m making them go to Hawaii next time they’re planning a holiday. I know a few hotels I can get them in on the cheap and you don’t get crazy beings armed with weapons in the middle of a public beach!
“She didn’t fire it, did she?” I say as I try and open the cookie jar.
“Nah, those two got her to calm down and she’ll be on the plane back with Miff soon.” The Forensic states as she opens it up for me with her fake hands.
Rick Miff? I know what that means.
“Is he thinking of making her work here?”
Maxi smiles. As she puts on the kettle “He even texted me to tell you she’ll be hanging round you until the lovebirds come back.”
I smile. Finally a new member to the family.
“So, what’s her name?” I ask as I look for the last chocolate chip.
“Dandelion. Used to be an officer in Manehattan.”
This made my ears prick up.
“… Manehattan? She’s from Manehattan?”
“Of course she is. What, you’d think Rick will somehow get someone fresh out of Trottingham down here?”
“No, I get that. It’s just she’s a cop from Manehattan. Like… that show I found last week. That cop who moved to Hawaii, from Manhattan. What’s his name again?”
“You are NOT going to call her Danno.”
“Oh, C’mon! Please? I’m gonna be all like ‘Book him Danno!’ and the music will kick in… Come on, let me live my Hawaii 5-0 fantasy, please!”
I love late night old cop show re-runs. They’re so cool! Reason why I became a detective here.
Maxi isn’t into it as much as me and the face my humy friend is showing me proves it.
“… Fine. Hey, do you think she’ll know me?” I ask as I finally found that cookie.
“What, just because of all you did in Manehattan? I’d say so. Like I said when I came here…
… You’re a bucking legend.”