//------------------------------//
// A Walk On the Streets 
// Story: Equine Recovery and Rehabilitation Association 
// by OneUppington 
//------------------------------//


PINEAPPLE RICE


“We’d better hurry before the stores close. We got to get you a few things. Maybe we can get to a friend of mine’s store, Dianne’ll stay open for us.”
“Is it really necessary to buy clothes now? Surely, we could do this some other time.”
“What, and have you go round the city with that blood stain on your collar? How did you get that on there, anyway?”
“Long story.” My little refugee grumbles, as she once again looks at some lady in a curious manner. I might need to tell her to stop that soon.
Kinda weird how she’s griping about clothes shopping. All I keep hearing from volunteers giving shelters to newly arrived ponies is how excited they get to go into a store for the first time and get their first clothes to wear in human world. Maybe it’s because they at least got some rest first, but I can’t have her wearing her old cop outfit! It’s got a blood stain on it, for crying out loud! You can’t walk around any place in a cop outfit with a blood stain on it, yet alone a big city like this! It’ll freak folks out! Heck, I bet wearing this in Manehattan would freak folks out!
Speaking of freaking out, she’s seems to be on top of the situation. If anything, the entire experience of coming here just seemed to annoy her. Guess that cutie mark of a lion means she’s got a lot of courage. I can only wish to be that wilfully strong when I got here. I was pretty much afraid of every difference in this world from the world before.
I’m still afraid of the other ponies. And I don’t mean other ponies like us, but the ones humans have. The ones who have always been here. When I moved to Manhattan, they had them pulling carriages in Central Park. Some still do, but we muscled in on the market there a little. They are super weird. They’re like us, but… not. Really long faces, little variety on colour, no cutie mark, usually taller than the average pony realm pony, not big on talking, and those eyes… those frickin’ eyes. I kind of prefer the bigger ones because it means I can’t see those eyes from all the way down here.
Oh no, I just realised; I have to show her those things! It’s all part of the rehabilitation program! What am I going to do? What am I going to do? Just thinking about those… things are making me shiver! Don’t give out that you’re scared, Pineapple! You got to be strong in front of the rookie!






DANDELION


Ugh… clothes shopping… I hope this doesn’t take long, because it’s been a fucking day and a half. And I bet this is not even for the stain and he just wants a jacket that badly. He’s shivering! It’s not even that cold!
“Hey, are you all right there?”
“Hm?” Pineapple says as he turns around to me, still walking down the street. “Oh! Uh, yeah I’m fine. Just… just wondering about a few things I need to teach you about.”
Really? Sounds like something I need to know.
“What kind of things?”
“Nothing much,” He shrugs. “A few things you don’t see back home, some history on how humans and equines got along, maybe some straight-up human history on the side, a lot about humans to be honest… Speaking of which; do you have any questions on the human anatomy? Because the way you’re looking at…”
Shit, I knew he saw me looking at the last female that went past! “I’m not doing it on purpose, I swear!” I better fill him in on what” happening. “It’s just those… things!”
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!” He quips putting his front hooves up. “Relax. I was looking at folks too when I got here… at their hands, granted, but hey, whatever floats your boat.”
… “And what the fuck do you mean by whatever floats my boat?”
“Nothing! Nothing!” He laughs. Yeah, keep laughing, fucker. Be thankful that I am not in the mood to throw you into a store window. “Most of my friends are Mixers.”
Mixers? Oh goddess damn it, that’s what we call those sick ponies who date griffons. Please don’t tell me there’s ponies here that do that with these hoomangs.
“Does mixers mean the same it does back home?” I have to ask, hoping he doesn’t say yes.
He stops dead in his tracks, and turns to look at me with, for once, not a smile. “What? What do they call them back home?”
Oh goddess, he doesn’t know. That’s not as bad, but not good neither.
“A pony and something not a pony…” I look around and realise were talking about something this in public. Better say this part quieter. “Get together.”
He nods. “Yeah, that’s it! Good, for a moment there I thought it meant something wrong.”






PINEAPPLE RICE


Her face turns into a variety of emotions has her mouth emits a multiple unfinished questions. “What do you mean somethi…? How can you even…? Why would you even want to…?” These faces and questions finish with a sigh. “You know what?” She finally says, “Who the fuck am I to judge what happens here? I just arrived, I can’t go anywhere, I am not in the mood for debating ethics, the last thing I should be doing is pissing anyone off, so fuck it. If there are ponies that screw hoomangs, there are ponies that screw hoomangs. I don’t get why they screw hoomangs, but that’s their deal. To each their own and all that shit.”
I can only pat my new comrade on her back. “Precisely my philosophy, Lion. But for future reference, it’s pronounced ‘humans.’ Not whatever you said.”
“Humans… okay, good to know.”
It’s nice to know she can put aside differences. It’s the hardest thing a newly arrived pony can do; Believe me, you have no idea how many are against mixers at first. But a while later they just shrug it off like she did right now. Kinda funny actually, because some of the ones who freak out about it the most later get into a human-pony relationship. Tongue Twist especially springs to mind. She came to me panicking when she had a dream about her and Henry. So much in fact she wanted to move in with me. Thankfully, Grimm gave her the details. Grimm’s such a smart guy, he can explain anything! Politics, Human Behaviour, Folk dancing…
You know something? Grimm would be a good help handling her. I have a feeling I need help.
“Speaking of mixers, I should tell you that Dianne, the lady we’re meeting? She’s married to a Griffon who works with us.”
Her ears pick up. “They have griffons here?”
“Well... kinda. It isn’t just ponies who just disappear out of nowhere, y’know.”
That gave her a bit of a shock. “You’re saying that… anything can arrive here?”
“Anything can. Ponies mostly, hence why we’re called Equine Rescue and Rehabilitation Association and not Practically Everything From Talking Horses to Apparently Not Mythical Creatures Rescue and Rehabilitation Association. PEFTHANMCRRA doesn’t have the same ring to it, anyway.”
She shakes her head. “So, I’m guessing we have to calm down minotaurs who just arrived.”
I nod. Everyone goes into panic stations when minotaurs come in. You'd be surprised how destructive a hungry, confused minotaur can be.
“Oh, fun.” She sighs. “So pretty much my old job, minus drugs being involved.”
“Well, you never know. We arrested one last week who ate some shrooms, hoping they were normal, edible mushrooms.” I joke.

Judging by her face, she’s not a joking type. That’s fine. Neither is Grimm… And I know how to make him laugh.






GRIMM FANDANGOTH


“Uh… Sweety? Pineappple’s here.” My wife tells me.

“Hmm? That’s odd. I know he has the arrival, but why would he be here now? Can’t he wait until the morning before the two go shopping?”
Well, I can’t pretend I was not hoping to be torn away from the paperwork on the victims of that minotaur from last week.

… Dianne’s making an unhappy look. I can only guess what it means. “The imbecile is making faces on the glass of the store again, isn’t he?”

Dianne nods.

God damn it, Pineapple. Just because you made me laugh ONCE with that shit…