The Game Theorist in Equestria (a.k.a. Mat Pat in Equestria)

by ShadowStorm7


Chapter 4: “A Special What?”

“But, Twilight,” said Pinkie Pie, “why do you even want him? He seems more like a pony who’s entered competitions without categories like history or science.” She stamped a hoof emphatically, the sound ringing through the hall. “He’s clearly been in eating competitions, so that should prove he’s my soulmate. You would just bore him out of his mind. Hay, I bet you were to teach him Equestrian history, his brain would open up his head, jump out, and just want to lay on the floor.”

Twilight started to reply, but then Pinkie pulled a neon sign from Celestia-knows-where. It said, Obvious Choice; Pinkie pointed it at herself. Shaking her head at the impossibility as much as her friend’s stubbornness, Twilight plowed on.

“Pinkie, look, let’s just focus on his party and let him decide. On the off-chance that he can’t get back to his world, he might want to start a new life here. When the time is right, he’ll pick a special somepony.” She paused, the bigger picture creeping into view. There were other things to consider besides their own feelings. “But we can’t tell anypony where he’s from,” she continued, rubbing her chin with a fore hoof. “Especially Lyra. Otherwise, he’ll be bombarded with questions about humans and poked and prodded and studied, and I doubt he would want that. We—”

A blood-curdling shriek resounded from the guest room, making both mares jump clean out of their skin. Reining in her fear, Twilight thrust the door wide with a spell and rushed inside; Pinkie followed just behind her. They both stopped short just over the threshold.

Nothing appeared to be amiss. Mat Pat was backing away from Spike, shaking and cringing, while the dragon smirked haughtily.

“What in the name of Tartarus is going on in here?” Twilight demanded. She doused her magic.

“Well,” answered Spike, clasping his claws behind his back, “we were talking and getting along great, and then Mat Pat said that if dragons really existed, they’d share the same genes as birds, lizards, and dinosaurs, but were closer to dinosaurs, and that it was scientifically impossible for us to breathe fire. So I… educated him.” He wagged his eyebrows and loosed a tiny wisp of emerald flame, making Mat Pat scoot even farther away from him. Then Spike glanced toward Twilight, and his spines and expression sank beneath her hot glower.

“Spike, everypony is free to express their own opinions—” Twilight began.

“It wasn’t an opinion!” Spike protested over her. “He all but said dragons couldn’t exist!”

“—and you should know better than to singe guests. What were you thinking? You could have just said you disagreed and had a nice conversation instead.”

Spike sputtered for a moment, and then shot a glare at Mat Pat as if it were all his fault. Pinkie had gone to the stallion and was hugging him, trying to calm him down. She returned Spike’s glare with a brief one of her own, and opened her mouth to say something, but a knock brought everyone’s attention around.

“Ev’rythin’ okay in there?” came a familiar drawl from just outside the open door. An orange mare with straw-colored hair and wearing a rodeo hat poked her head in. “Ev’rypony in town’s talkin’ ’bout the screams comin’ from the castle. Shoot, I could hear that last’un halfway to Sweet Apple Acres. I ain’t never heard a scream like that before, leastways not when Rarity’s out of town. But seeing as how she’s in Baltimare for that big fashion show, I thought I’d best come on down and see what all the fuss is ’bout.”

“Come on, Spike,” Twilight instructed, going to Applejack. Fuming, Spike obeyed. Hopefully he couldn’t cause Mat Pat any trouble if he was with her. Although, perhaps she should have taken—

“Oooh, hi, Mr. Writer! What are you doing?”

What, Pinkie?

“What’re you doing here? You shouldn’t be talking to me—that’s not in the story.”

Well, I already broke the fourth wall in the first chapter, so we’re due for another break right about now. Besides, I figured we should see what’s going on with you. Don’t worry, Pinkie, just get back into the story.

“Okey-dokey-lokey!” Pinkie turned to Mat Pat, who was staring at her as if she were some lunatic fresh out of the local asylum. She grinned. “So, I’ve been wondering if you’ll be getting a special somepony, and, if so, would you pick a superly-fantastic, chipper, and fun pony or a pony who only likes to read scrolls and study and talk about what she’s learned?”

After a long minute, Mat Pat blinked and replied, “Um, Ms. Pie, what’s a special somepony?”

“A special somepony’s your marefriend or coltfriend, depending on which way you swing.”

“Oh.” Mat Pat carefully untangled himself from Pinkie’s grip and offered her a polite smile. “I mean, I suppose that makes sense, but I have a wife back home, so I don’t need a special somepony.”

Pinkie Pie giggled. “Well, in case we can’t get you home, Twilight thinks it’d be nice for you to have one.”

Mat Pat stared at her, dumbfounded, for a beat. Then he turned tail and galloped straight for the exit. He shoved past Twilight, Spike, and Applejack, down the hall, and made a beeline for the first door with daylight shining through its stained glass windows. Ponies of all kinds watched him pass and darted out of his way, but Mat Pat barely saw them. He burst outside. Before he had a chance to take in his surroundings, his hoof—why on earth did he have to have four of the things?—slipped, sending him tumbling down the steps and into the dirt.

“Mat Pat, wait!”

It was Pinkie Pie’s voice. Mat Pat bolted upright, eye twitching. He scrambled back to his hooves and continued his mad dash. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one else had followed him—and ran headlong into the side of a building.