//------------------------------// // Fff-Buck McDonald's! // Story: The Child In Me // by Zamairiac //------------------------------// Well it's certainly been a while hasn't it now! Inspiration and time have been in such short supply lately, I can't promise to write constantly as I used too, but I can swear to at least try. In any case, this chappy should be both confusing, out of left field and yet, strangely make sense. Hope you enjoy it ;) Begin! Fff-Buck McDonald's The world was blurry…focus was hard to maintain, to even manage… I could hear…voices. Loud voices, a group of individuals speaking words I couldn't quite comprehend. Words of wisdom, romance, joy and sadness…perhaps? I knew not. Blinking wearily, I reached up with my hoof and rubbed my eyes gingerly, hoping against hope that the sleep would vanish entirely. Alas it did not, so with greater effort I spread my fingers apart and tried to pick the sleep out of my eyes, smiling instantly as I felt my sight return in its…entirety. Fingers? Looking down in wonder, I tried and failed to halt a gasp of disbelief as the overwhelming sight of hands, my hands, came into view. "W-What?" I stammered, said hands shaking as emotion I couldn't even begin to understand washed over me. "How do I-My voice!" It's…deeper, like…like before I… A sudden loud knocking snapped me out of my revere and caused me to spin around, startling myself as I came face to face with a door. With the McDonald's logo printed upon it. "Oliver," came a voice, a women's from behind the door. "Are you okay? You've been in there almost your entire break." Break, I work here? Thinking rapidly for a few moments, I cleared my throat and answered her concerns…whoever she was. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine thanks," I replied, my brief stammer thankfully quiet. "I just-" Looking behind me, I noticed that I was in fact beside a toilet- "have a bit of a dickey stomach, but I think I'm okay now." There were a few moments of silence, followed eventually by the thankful sound of retreating footsteps. I waited for a few moments longer, before nodding and flushing the toilet for my cover's sake, the sink briefly running shortly after. Once done, I opened the door and stepped outside into a corridor. The famous yellow logo was bloody everywhere. Okay… I thought slowly. Let's note what I can to make sense of this before I do anything else. One, I'm human again, I'm the real me. Two, I apparently work for the only fast food company in the world that gives me the shits…um, let's forget that one. Ahem, and three, the last thing I can remember before this was Luna's incredibly comfy stomach and singing…so what happened? Frowning as I tried to recollect anything more, and failing, I sighed and began to walk aimlessly ahead, passing a mirror and…stopping…looking. My eyes were light brown, as they always had been. My hair however was not blue anymore, but rather a dirty blond mess that reached just above my shoulders and just a touch over my eyes. I had no coat, as any human should. Instead I had pale white skin, skin that appeared as though allergic to sunlight. There was also a light bruise near the centre of my forehead. Beyond that I was of a slim build, neither athletic nor underweight, just skinny and a tad smaller than the average man. And unfortunately wearing the ugly attire of a McDonald's employee. Suddenly, a women with greasy black hair came around the corner, a scowl already gracing her acne filled face as she opened her mouth to speak. "There you are runt," she growled, yes growled. Like a boar. "Your break finished over two minutes ago. So stop admiring your reflection and get back to work before you break the mirror." …Oh it was on. I didn't know this woman, hell I didn't even know why I apparently worked here. I certainly didn't before I arrived in happy go lucky land. But nobody, pony, or beast spoke to me like that. No one. "Terribly sorry my dear," I said, practically purring the sickly sweet word out. "I know it can be difficult to cook one's own kin, let alone eat them. But you knew the job when you applied for it, no? Surely your poor, fragile feelings are better spent on other…activities shall we say, than hurtling snide comments with the exuberance I assume you do a salad, no?" The boar, as I henceforth named her, didn't respond to my well versed words. Nay, instead she was doing the most impressive impression of a goldfish that I'd yet seen. "I…you…you are…" "Yes, yes. Do speak up my dear," I encouraged mockingly. "Some of us do have work to do, you know." A few moments of silence was all that followed…until the boar apparently remembered that she could, in fact, speak. "You…are fired!" she roared, her body actually shaking with rage. "Am I?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow. "And on whose authority do you have the power to do that, hmm?" "MINE!" she yelled, her stubby thumb jerking to a tag on her top. Manager…well fuck-idy-do-dar! Go me, don't know why I'm here and still manage to piss someone off in the first ten minutes. "Huh, well I guess a boar can scale up the business ladder," I remarked thoughtfully. "How did you do that, suggest a new brand of Mc Flurry?" "OUT!" Grinning to myself as I dodged her grabby little hands (They were fat as fuck), I made my way out of the apparent staff only area and into the cooking area. "Ah, there you are Oliver," said a familiar voice, the one from behind the toilet door I believed. And, curious as I am, I looked in her direction and…huh, she wasn't bad looking actually. Red hair tied in a bobble, slim physique, a pretty smile upon her face. Oh and great tits. "Where've you been, we need you on the tills now silly," she continued, smiling prettily as she led me by arm to said till. Smiling myself, I gently removed her soft hand and took off my tag, handing it to her. "No can do sweet cheeks, gotta bail," I quipped cheekily, though I did feel a slight twinge of guilt as I remembered a certain Siren…if she was real that is. I still didn't have a clue what was going on. "Have you been fired again?" she asked, eyebrow raised in both amusement and annoyance. "Again?" She rolled her eyes at my rhetorical question and pinned the tag back on my top. "Be the till guy until I get back from speaking to her, okay?" she…pretty much ordered. "I'll sort this all out. Just smile and DON'T be sarcastic with the customers…again, okay?" "Okay, okay!" I conceded, raising my hands in surrender. "Go talk to the boar and I'll play nice." "You shouldn't call her that," she remarked, a tiny grin on the face nonetheless as she shook her head, turning away and dashing into the employee area. Smirking to myself, I turned around and looked at the line of impatient customers…then at the till I had no idea how to use…wait, scratch that. It looked simplistic enough. "Okay then," I all but announced, grinning. "What can I get for…" A pony, a foal looked at me…no, back at me. Blue coat, blue mane, light brown eyes and a muzzle open, closing as it said- "you…" Blinking, I looked around in disbelief at the white tiled ceiling and floor of…Mom's bathroom. "What the fff-buck," I murmured, too stunned by everything, my once more squeaky voice included, to be bothered by my swear being twisted. "How…what?" "Arcturus, art thou okay in their sweetie?" a voice…Mom's voice asked, concerned and maternal as it always was. "You've been quiet for a while baby." Quickly gathering my wits, I rushed to the ajar door and opened it in a rush. Standing there with an anxious look on her face was… "Mom?" I uttered, only too aware of how childish the word was as it left my muzzle. And so to hide this… "Um, why did you call me Arcturus?" It's a legitimate question. She's been calling me Oliver for ages now. A look of utter befuddlement appeared on her face as I asked this, only to be replaced with a look of worry and warmth. "Thou said we could not fifteen minutes ago, mine son," she replied, tilting her head slightly. "Art thou certain that thou art…okay?" She pressed a hoof to my head and frowned slightly. "Thy warmth is slightly higher than we would like…hmm." Picking me up with her magic, she gently manipulated my form into the foal pouch, kissing the top of my head lovingly as she did so. "We think thou is well enough for now," she said, frowning concernedly nonetheless. "But if thou feel any ill sensation, thou must tell Mommy immediately!" Her 'mom' look left no reason in my mind to believe that her words were a suggestion, thus my swift nodding and nuzzle were enough to produce an affectionate smile from the mare. "Good colt," she praised her smile widening. "Now then, Mommy thinks tis finally time for the cream of ice, no?" I nodded quickly. Thoughts everywhere though they were, I had enough sense to realize that ice-cream meant yum. It's better than Maccy D's…