Lyra looked between Thomas and their guest. Thomas looked between her and that guest. He cleared his throat. "So why is there a pig here?"
Lyra gestured at the pig. "Her name is Miss Curly Tail. Say hello."
Curly Tail waved a cloven hoof. "Nice to meet you."
Thomas frowned at Curly. "Yeah, sure thing."
Lyra nodded lightly. "As you can see, pigs have names, words, and even feelings. If you poke one, they feel it." She prodded Curly in the side, and she snorted. "Ponies do not consider eating pigs."
Curly's eyes widened at the idea. "What?!"
Thomas held up a hoof at Curly. "Don't get your little tail in a knot. I don't eat what can ask me nicely not to."
Lyra rolled a hoof. "Cows talk too."
Thomas grumbled in annoyance. "Deer?"
"Talk."
"Come on! Not everything in this entire damn world has a mouth on it!" Thomas thudded the arm of the sofa he was resting on. "What do those bird things eat?"
Lyra perked an ear. "Griffons?"
"Yeah, those."
Lyra waved to the hallway. "Thanks for joining us, Curly Tail. You've been most helpful."
Curly nodded with a smile at Lyra. "Any time." She shot Thomas a less friendly look, uncertain about the potentially carnivorous unicorn, but she left without further word.
Lyra sat back in her chair, taking a sip from her cup. "I have a question for you first. You said you've eaten pig, and cow?"
Thomas nodded. "Sure, deer, oxen, kangaroo, ostrich. I've tried anything on the market."
Lyra nodded slowly. "Most of those are intelligent species." She waved her hoof at Thomas. "Quick rule of hoof, if it has one of these, it's probably smart enough to not want to be eaten. What market did you find all this in?"
Thomas gestured off into the distance. "They aren't so smart back in America. They raise them on farms, all dumb as a sack of rocks, just waiting to be killed, slaughtered by a man like me, and put on someone's plate."
Lyra restrained the urge to make a face at the description. "I... see. But if you're so used to eating these things, why do you react badly to it?"
"It's not obvious?" Thomas raised a brow. "You told me. Ponies don't eat meat so good. I'm a pony now, so I don't eat it so good. Fucking sucks if you ask me."
Lyra tapped her chin, trying to reconcile the facts. If she could either prove he did or did not eat meat well before, that would shine some light on the mystery. "Alright, for sake of argument, how would you prove you ate meat before?" Maybe Thomas would have an idea, or so Lyra hoped.
Thomas looked hopeful a moment, then frowned. "Hell, I don't know how to prove that... I can describe the taste, but that ain't nothing. I can cook it just fine? But that doesn't prove I ate it either, I guess."
Lyra nodded. "We'll put that aside for now. You can't eat meat now, and you are definitely a pony now. I just want you to be a happy pony. That isn't so bad, is it?"
He crossed his forelegs. "I won't be happy as a vegan for life."
Lyra shook her head. "Oh, no, you don't have to be that, which ties into your question. If you insist on eating other things, society is alright with milk and eggs. Cows are paid for their services, and chickens aren't one of the smarter animals. Besides that, fish is considered alright, and won't upset you in small amounts."
"Fish!" Thomas hopped to his hooves. "I should have thought of that. I can cook fish. How does that hook in with the other question?"
"Griffon love fish." Lyra smiled. "And I think I found how you can put that talent of yours to work."
Thomas asked in a guarded tone, "Which would be?"
Lyra slipped from her chair. "What would you say to being a chef? I know a little place in town that boasts world-wide cuisine, which includes things for diamond dogs and griffons, which means..." She rolled a hoof at Thomas.
Thomas got where the dots were pointing and brightened. "Which means I get to cut up meat and get paid for it."
Lyra nodded. "You won't be able to eat all the meat, but you'll get to do what you obviously want to do, constructively."
Thomas was suddenly on her, kissing each of her cheeks once. "You're a mint-green angel! I thought you were just dicking around with me, trying to 'cure' me or whatever, but that sounds great. If I'm going to be a pony, at least I can do what I like doing instead of sitting around like a lump."
Lyra flushed as she smiled. "Aw. I'm just trying to help, as a friend, right?" She reached and poked his horn. "Have you had any progress up here? You'll want a working horn before you get to work."
Thomas looked up cross-eyed at the new organ. "I don't have a damn clue how to work that."
Lyra nodded. "Then we get you some tutoring first, then we get you to work. You're lucky, being a unicorn. We don't have to put our mouths on everything."
Thomas grunted softly. "Alright, get magic, then make magic cuts... I can live with that. When do I start?"
Lyra thought to her friends. "I'll send someone over tomorrow. They may not be your full-time teacher, so give me a bit to work that out, but I'll send somepony right away, promise."
Her words did much to ease him, and Thomas trotted off with a big smile. She pulled out her pad and made a few fresh scratches on it. She would get him his tutor, but another question nagged at her mind. Something had to set these ponies up. There was just no way they all got this same idea on their own. Who invented 'America' and its humans, and who threw it onto her patients?
She grunted softly. "Somepony out there could be deliberately messing ponies up. Some kind of crazy new cult? Magic gone wrong?" She put the pad down and instead pulled a chocolate free to nibble on, mind whirring with thought. Who would profit from this, or was it some kind of strange natural phenomena?