//------------------------------// // Therapeutic Face-Punching // Story: Super-Villainy for Fun and Profit // by AtrenGraves //------------------------------// “Ugh...wha 'appened?” “Oh, just a little dimensional displacement.” I'll admit to a little surprise at getting an actual answer, but I kept my cool, throwing myself away from the voice with all the grace and poise- “ARGLKDJHFSG!” -of a drowning cat. Side note; dirt tastes disgusting, even when you're massively hungover. “Are you alright?” I responded to that surprisingly reasonable question by lifting my head and violently emptying my stomach on the ground. “That would be a 'no'?” Oh God, this hurts. This hurts in all the ways. And now all I can taste is vomit, and that's terrible. I want the dirt back. “Ugh.” Of course, wanting it not to be happening doesn't fix anything, so I push myself to my hooves, do my best to spit out the worst of it as I stumble away from the mess...and eww, snot. I hate snot. That's so gross. “If you're finished?” Reasonable voice speaks up again. “I have other things to do, you know.” “Aaarrrg...” My head. My stomach. I feel like I got run over, and this smarmy voice is practically laughing at me. I blink away tears, try to focus my swimming vision. But, of course, what I'm seeing refuses to resolve into any semblance of sense. “...the buck?” Wait, what was that? “Buck.” I rock back, my eyes crossing as I glare at my uncooperative snout. “Bucking heck...applebucker...sugar-eating son of a gun.” What? “Oh, yes, profanity filters...” “Ffffff-udge icing!” Thing. Floating there. What is it? I don't have a clue...or don't I? Let's recap; stabbing pain in my head, stomach is oww, and the rest of me feels like something very large and heavy hit me while moving very quickly...duh. Brain damage! “Buck off, brain-puppet. I've got the hangover to end all hangovers, and I'm probably delusional and on my way to the hospital. I don't need your shenanigans on top of that.” “Actually, it's more of a 'hijink' this time.” The hallucination refuses to disappear. “If I might-” “Nope!” I turn away...slump, as that sends my head spinning again. “Ehhhhnnnnn...” Why pain? I hate pain...also, brain injuries. Those suck too. Or, at least, I assume they do. I've never had a brain injury before. So far, I'm not impressed, so I think my assumption holds up. “Maybe this will help?” There's a snap...and the pain goes away. Like, all of it. There was a lot of it, and...wow. I run my tongue over my teeth, because minty-fresh-out-of-nowhere mouth is freaky. And come to think of it, my teeth feel kind of funny. I can't quite put my hoof on what's wrong, but there's something... “Aaaand-” Wait a second. I can't put my hoof on... “-the penny drops.” I look down, and, yep, hooves. Hooves and fur and oh my God I have a tail. I am sitting on my tail. Without really thinking about it, I scramble to my hooves, and crane my neck back and what the heck is going on? “I turned you into a pony.” I look up at the totally-has-to-be-a-hallucination thing, and it shrugs. “Ponies are cool now. It could be worse, you know." "Wa?" "I could have left all those messy 'muscle memory' things in place. Wouldn't that have been entertaining?” Oookay. Okay. No panicking. Panic is bad. Brain damage is still on the table. “I do find it interesting that potentially fatal injury is preferable to you, over the pony thing.” Ahahaha, okay, panic. Just a little bit. Or a lot. A lot sounds good. Is my vision going gray? Isn't that a bad thing? I think that's a...a bad... “Ready to listen?” “Bwah!” I lash out, digging out a furrow of dirt and grass but missing my target. “...” I push myself up, and manage to muster up a bleary glare. “This...isn't in my head, is it?” “Well, look who's catching on!” It claps its ha...paws? It's only one paw, the other's more of a...I don't know. 'Talon' maybe. Whatever it is, I want to kick that smug grin right down its throat. “Firstly, I am a 'He', not an 'It'.” He. Right. “And secondly, if you'd like to settle down and listen for a few moments, I might be able to answer a few of your questions, hmm?” Answers. Answers are good. “...alright. But make it good.” His grin grows, and he waves a paw...a blackboard appears out of nowhere. I blink, and suddenly he's dressed in a sweater-vest and taped up glasses. “Consider, if you will, the nature of 'infinity'. All sorts of beings like to toss the word around when they're trying to describe something large or vast...but most fail to consider the true meaning in it.” His tail whips up to flip the blackboard around, and taps the chalky infinity symbol there. “As a concept, it is anything and everything. All things thought up and dreamed, all things yet unimagined; if Infinity is fact, then what can be, is.” “Booorring.” I throw a rock I'd been working up out of the dirt, manage to knock those dorky glasses off his face. “Stop philosophializing and get to the point.” “Hmph...I'm fairly certain that isn't a word.” He pulls out another pair of glasses. “But I can tell that you're going to be a nuisance about this, so I suppose I'll 'get to the point'.” “Awesome. Do that.” He reaches back to flip the blackboard again, a cartoonish drawing of a bunch of ponies scrawled across it. “Infinity exists, and I pulled you through it to bring you here. This is Equestria; peaceful, happy, boring. Now, once in awhile, something does happen which shakes things up a little, break the 'status quo' as it were; once or twice, I've had the personal pleasure to be that something.” Where do I even begin? “Sooo...you're the bad guy?” “Reformed!” He wags a claw at me. “Reformed bad guy. Really, more of a 'chaos enthusiast'.” A pause, and he crosses his arms, turning his nose up. “It's not my fault that nobody else appreciates my work. Unless, of course, it benefits them.” Jeeze. Someone's a little bitter... “I'm not bitter!” “Oh please, that was super bitter.” “It wasn't!” “If you were a cup of coffee, I'd be dumping you down the drain right now.” “If-wait. Why wouldn't you just add sugar?” “...shut up. Keep explaining.” Dammit, now he's laughing at me. “Who the heck are you and how do you rate 'reformed bad-guy' treatment?” “Mmm...nope.” Uh? “No? What do you mean 'no'?” “Your punishment for poorly thought-out banter is that I'm not going to tell you about myself.” He smiles. “Besides, you're the important one, here.” “Me?” “You!” He snaps his...paw...fingers, and the blackboard and silly costume disappear. “You see, it's been almost a month since the last big batch of chaos, and I find myself terribly bored. It happens a lot, but I've noticed that I'm not the only one, this time.” He heaves a dramatic sigh, and I start feeling around for another rock, because this whole thing screams cheesy monologue... “You're the new villain!” Dammit. I was looking forward to throwing more things at him... … “I'm the what!?” “Well, with the Elements of Harmony back in use, Equestria has been running rather short on villains. So! I was sitting in my thinking-tub, wearing my thinking-sombrero, just turning that little problem over, and I realized how easy it would be to bring one here from somewhere else. And here you are!” I don't think 'indignation' quite covers what I'm feeling at the moment. “I am not a villain!” “Well, you're the closest thing I could find on short notice. So there is that.” He smiles again...and I turn my attention back to the ground. There has to be another rock here. We're outside, there's always rocks and...bugs and stuff. “Now, I do have a few basics outlined for you; I don't know if you're the sort to enjoy studying. I know several of them, and dislike them all, so you seem to fit the bill.” Right, right, keep talking. I found me a throwin' rock. “Do you prefer your material alphabetized, or are you more a chronolo-ouch!” “Distraction!” “Wha-oof!” Hard to see a flying tackle coming when you don't see it coming. We go for a tumble, and I manage to stick the landing with a hoof in his gut. “Alright applebucker! You're gonna turn me back into a person, or I'm gonna rip off your b-” My jaw clenches, and I almost choke. “B...b-b...beard.” Uh, okay, fine. Whatever. “And shove it up your a-aa...ear!” He lays there for about three seconds before he starts laughing. All things considered, I think I'm perfectly justified, punching him in the face. Which, I'll admit, is much more satisfying without all those fragile little hand-bones to hold me back. In fact, it's so satisfying that I do it again. Just because. “Why am I swearing like a deranged six year-old!?” He shakes his head (complete with rattling googly eyes), and spits out a malformed fang before composing himself enough to answer. “Well, a good portion of your vocabulary was...rather the opposite of family friendly-” I punch him again. “There's nothing wrong with my vocabulary, you jackass!” Oh, wait. “Ha! You missed one!” “Actually, that term specifically refers to a male donkey...” “Bite me, mix'n'match!” Boy, that's calming. It's like I'm punching the stress out of me and into his face. I should solve all my problems with physical violence. “Turn me back!” There's a pop, and I'm eating dirt again. Darn it. “And you think you're not a villain.” He chuckles from somewhere behind me. “Now before you start hitting me again, perhaps you'd like to finish hearing me out?” I sit up and shake my mane out...mane. “My mane is made up of hair. Why am I thinking 'mane' instead of 'hair'?” “Like I said, vocabulary.” He arches a brow...like, the brow turns into an arch. Greco-Roman. Very classy. “May I?” “If it'll make me want to stop hitting you.” He holds up his...appendages...disarmingly. “I'll not be sending you back...yet. But that isn't to say I never will.” I growl, and he backs up obligingly. “If you play the part, you get sent home.” “And what's stopping me from beating you like a piñata till you do what I want, instead?” He actually takes a second to consider that, and I graciously allow it. “Well, I could tell you all about the way Princess Celestia practically jumped on the chance to reform me rather than have to fight me again.” “So?” “She controls the orbit of the sun around the planet.” Hmm...given the whole 'turned me into a pony, not bothered by facial-trauma, snaps things in and out of existence' thing, I'm actually inclined to buy that. “...yeah, okay.” “Ah, but you haven't even heard the b-huh?” His arms drop. “'Okay'?” “Uh-huh.” “You're not going to argue some more?” “Is there a point?” “Well, no...but it was amusing.” “Buck you.” I buff my hoof on my...chest...fur. “What do I need to do to get home?” A few moments pass, and then he rolls his eyes, exasperated. Him. The nerve. “You're the villain. I'm sure you can work something out...” “I mean, yeah, sure, but what am I doing?” I scuff my...don't have heels anymore. And it's a forelimb, so it would be palm. Except not. Arrrrrg. “Do I have to arrange for an untimely demise? Subvert a particular polity? What?” He gives me a weird look. “No?” After a short pause, he looks thoughtful, pulling off his wonky horn to scratch his head. “Really, most of my plans for you just involve general chaos...not necessarily a bad thing, but I suppose it seems a bit unfocused, doesn't it?” “Kinda...” “No matter!” He tosses the horn, snap-pops another one into place on his skull, and smiles at me. “Just be the best villain you can be. I'm sure that'll work out perfectly!” “The best villain I can be, huh?” I can totally do that. Especially if it means getting home. “Yeah, okay...so what's my thing?” “...thing?” “Yeah, you know...” He doesn't. I glare. “Look, if I'm your big bad villain, I can't just be some random Plain-Jane pony, right? So what's my thing?” “That's...hmm.” He floats toward me...has he been floating this whole time? The whole time? I narrow my eyes and back away, but that's not super effective once he starts circling me. “That's a point, I suppose...let's try this, then.” He snaps, and drops an anvil on my head. I think. I don't actually see what hits me, but it definitely felt like something big and heavy. Ffffff. “I thought we were done with pain!?” “Oh, pony up.” His voice booms. “So I'm welding magic into your soul and spontaneously forming a bone and keratin projection on your skull to channel the energy. Big deal.” “You're what?” “I made you a unicorn! No need to thank me.” I manage to open my eyes...unicorn? That means horn, right? That...might be a horn up there. Really, I can just see a point. Kind've a pointy point. “Can I stab you with this?” “Well, you could, but I wouldn't suggest it.” Debating that eats up a few seconds, and gives the pain a little time to abate. “Why did you weld things to my face?” “So that you can do magic, of course!” ...okay, so maybe worth it. “Like, magic? Enforcing my will on the natural world? Warping the laws of reality to satisfy my every petty whim?” “Ah...no. That's my shtick. You get normal unicorn magic.” Ugh! What kind of weird dimension-magic-grabby-thing is this guy? “Normal unicorn magic? Like, this stuff is common? And what kind of magic is 'normal' here? Is it the stuff that you have to study obsessively to do simple spells, or is it all instinctual or what?” His blank stare isn't very reassuring. “Come on! You want me to be a super-villain, you have to give me something to work with!” He pulls his paw down over his face, dragging it along almost a foot before it snaps back into place like rubber. “There's just no pleasing you people, is there? Fine, fine. Here.” This time, it's like a sledgehammer to the jaw; literally, it knocks me over and everything. “Well then, that's done.” He hauls me to my hooves, and I sway, blinking up at the pair of hims hovering in front of me. “You can figure the rest out for yourself. Ponyville is that-away-” They point in opposite directions. Jerks. “-and I'm going on a spontaneous vacation that has absolutely nothing to do with you. Have fun!” I fall over again the moment he disappears, and struggle weakly to smack the empty space where he used to be. Of course, not only is he not there, but I also can't move very well. Actually, I'm kinda tired...I think I'm just gonna...rest. Yeah.