Aqua, no... George. He was George. He woke up in his bed, dizzy and groggy. It was.... still? It was morning. Was it all a very lucid dream? He staggered from bed and went into his workroom to find the Ponyfinder book was were he left it as were two of the three figures he had purchased. The last was broken into pieces on the ground, dashed by a violent throw.
A throw he had performed. "Shit..."
George reached down to pick up the figure, but it moved out of his grasp before he could get a grip on it. It danced in the air a moment as he watched it with wide eyes. Was he haunted now? "What the hell?"
The figure rose up, floating, and grinded against the wall, leaving a mark as it went as it was employed as the oddest-shaped pencil he'd ever saw.
Are you there?
"Y-yes?" There was no reply. George frowned and reached for the figure. That time it didn't dance away and he made his own words on the wall.
I'm here. Is this Twilight?
Octavia, though Twilight is here. She keeps insisting it would be... easier to do with her horn, but I have to do this. Aqua, what happened?
George drew a sharp breath as he watched the words slowly be written out by what he imagined was a very talented hoof, but still a hoof. What did he tell her, exactly? He reached for the figure and there was a moment of resistance before he was holding it. It was as close as he could get to touching either of them while he was in the human world. The broken figure was some kind of connecting point, it seemed. It was both here and there.
I'm alright. Come back in a day. I have to do some things.
The figure jumped out of his hand and began writing quickly and smoothly.
Aqua, this is Twilight. I'll make sure your house is taken care of. Whatever you have to do, be safe.
For a dimension-hopping kidnapper, Twilight was pretty nice. George smiled a little and turned away to look at his house. It was the way it should be, minus having words scribbled on one of the walls. He could go to work, if he wanted. He could call his friends. He could call his parents, though calling either of them would result in more confusion than anything else, with him calling when he'd normally be at work for no real reason...
Should he be burying that figure in the backyard and pretending it never happened?
He decided work was probably the best thing. No matter what, he shouldn't just... not show up. He washed, dressed, ate, and was soon out the door in the bright sun of California. It was a fine time to sell some records. He grinned a little as he went. He worked for one of the last dying record stores around. With the advent of digital everything, less people were interested in physical media. Less, but not none. He wondered a moment what Vinyl would think of that.
"Never gonna give you up," he sang as he went, imagining a musical reply to the question. He had never figured Vinyl would communicate that way, but it seemed to suit her just fine.
It wasn't a long drive to work, and he pulled up to see it wasn't yet open, which was typical. Opening it was part of his job. He got to work setting up the shop for a day's business as he put on his headphones and pressed the button. "Call Richard."
The phone beeped and soon he was patched to his friend. "Hey man, what's up?"
"I've had the strangest day on record, and I need to talk about it with someone before I scream." He didn't look like he was freaking out, straightening out and getting ready for the day, but he was good at keeping things inside when he wanted to. "You got a minute?"
"For you man, anything. How'd that horse party go?"
"Pony convention. It was great." George rolled his eyes. "About that... I think I mighta got something from there."
"No way!" Richard laughed on the phone. "My boy George got himself some? It's alright man, catching things is just a part of the haz--"
"Not like that, ass." George frowned a little as he pulled open the door, admitting any potential customers inside. "Think more like crazy artifacts. Magic, voodoo, whatever you want to call it."
"If it was anyone else, I'd be laughing harder. Alright G-man, tell me what has you seeing ghosts."
"Alright, so, do you know anything about the show?"
"Which show?"
"My Little Pony."
"A weak-ass show for little girls and men that like to pretend they're little girls."
George rolled his eyes. Maybe Richard wasn't the best person to call. "You ever watch it?"
"Look, you like it, and that's cool man, but that ain't my speed. So what'd you call for? Not to try to make me a brony too, I hope?"
"I'll call you back, some customers are coming in." He pressed the button and it became quiet. There were no customers, but... Richard wasn't helping. He liked Richard, as a friend, but he was a bit of an ass, and didn't get the 'pony' thing. He was, however, the only friend he could just call in the middle of the day and not be asleep or working.
George had a sudden idea. He went over to the cash register/computer and quickly pulled up a browser. Soon he was on a pony forum where he got to typing.
If you had the chance to go to Equestria and be Octavia's coltfriend, would you do it?
Luna or no deal.
Forget Octavia, Vinyl's where it's at.
This is a stupid question and it's been asked a thousand times before with a different pony each time.
The thread was going nowhere in record time. Perhaps he should better define the situation.
Alright, a pony kills itself and you get picked to take their place. You get their house, their job, their friends and even their marefriend. You get it all, but you can't be a pony and a human at the same time. What do?
Why would a pony do that?
The conversation derailed pretty hard as they started to argue over the basic idea that a pony could ever be so sad as to kill itself. The usual trolls showed up with loud declarations that all ponies should kill themselves and end the problem.
The thread wasn't producing anything useful and George was getting ready to browse away when he noticed he had a private message waiting for him.
He opened it up to see it had come from 'The Text'.
Where do you want to go?
George raised a brow at the cryptic and short message. Was it a joke? He typed out a quick reply as he glanced to the door in case a customer wandered in.
Nowhere. I'm just figuring things out, why? Are you on the thread?
We've met before. You have a fine life here, but it's missing something.
Something solved by Equestria?
There are worse places to go.
George looked up to a cleared throat. A customer had snuck up on him. He smiled and offered to help and refocused on what he was being paid to be there to do. He didn't stray back and kept focused on his job until it was lunch time. His relief had arrived, who was also his boss. With a passing high-five, he stepped out to get something to eat, and maybe to get some things straight in his head.
Maybe... He made a quick call.
"George?"
"Hi mom, sorry to call out of the blue."
"No no, I mean, hello! I just wasn't expecting it. How are you?" Her voice sounded a little strained. He was probably interrupting something.
Rather than bother her, he cut it off. "I gotta go, but hey, uh, love you."
"Love you too dear."
She hung up.
He let the phone dangle in his arm as he waited his turn for food in the form of an extra large burrito. Ponies made great soups, but they didn't know what they were missing when it came to meat. He tore into the pork-filled pouch of beans, rice, cheese, and other things with a relish, letting out a satisfied groan.
They probably made great cakes too, if the show was to be believed. Really, anything that wasn't outright meat. He frowned a little in thought. Alright, it was time to be logical about it. He opened a notepad on his phone and made two columns. Pros. Cons.
Pro: He gets a girlfriend.
Con: He barely knows said girlfriend.
Pro: He gets new friends.
Con: He loses his old friends.
He gets to be a pony. That one he drew right in the center with a few question marks. Was that good or bad?
Con: No fingers!
Pro: Wings.
His phone suddenly began to ring. Peeking at his phone he saw it was another of his friends. "Hey Rob, what's up?"
"George, man. Richard said you called him ranting about ponies. What's up?"
Bob was a brony, much like him. Maybe he'd understand. "Bob, if you had a chance to go to Equestria, would you?"
"What, like, forever? Wait, is this, you know, hypothetical? Why'd you call Rich for that? You know what his answer would be."
George quirked a smile. "It was early and I figured you didn't want me calling then."
"Well it isn't morning anymore. Look, you sound a little shook up, where are you?"
George glanced up. "TexMex, just south of the train."
"I know the place. I'll be right there." He hung up.
Robert was there quickly, pushing open the door with a huff of breath before he set eyes on the eating George and approached quickly. "Alright, so what's going on?"
His speed was a bit confusing to George. "Don't you have work too?"
Rob waved it off. "Forget work. This is about you."
Did he care that much? That... was actually kind of touching. George smiled a little. "Promise to assume I'm not lying or crazy?"
Rob pulled up a chair and settled on it. "Any story that starts with that has to be good. Out with it man. I promise."
"So I was at the con..." George ran down his obtaining of the cursed, or magic, or whatever figures. "Should have known from the way he was grinning and moving. He was too eager to sell me... So I had it, and I went home."
"Right away?"
"No, after the con, but yeah, there I was, home." George let out a sigh. "When I started painting, something happened. This is where it gets crazy, because I was in Equestria."
Bob nodded slowly. "Then... how are you back here, eating that, and talking to me about it?"
It wasn't a bad question. "I didn't finish that painting. When I broke the figure, I ended up back here."
Rob glanced left and right. "You're not shitting me?"