Myou've Gotta be Kidding Me

by DataPacRat

A Discouraging Word

If I'd known where my hoofgun was, Blueblood very likely would have started sporting several new holes in his fancy white coat. Fortunately for him, nothing of the sort was within reach, so after my loud reaction, I pulled the sheet over me up to my neck, and grated out, "What. Happened."

"Nothing of consequence."

"What. Happened."

"Perhaps I'm not the best one to explain. Miss Pepper, would you come out here, please?"

There was a classic flushing sound, and Red appeared, peeking her head around the doorframe. "Are you back to being you?"

"What. Happened?"

"After you drank the juice, you started acting all weird."

"Did I... did he... did we?"

"Oh, um, no. You didn't do anything with him. You kind of, um, started chasing after me..."

Blueblood piped up, "Though you did ask me to marry you."

Red said back, "Actually, she asked you to marry us." I facehoofed, and she added, "And by that, I mean perform a marriage ceremony. He was actually our chaperone, a perfect gentlemen. Other than being a complete idiot and putting that tainted juice anywhere near the normal stuff and not bringing it to a police station."

Blueblood huffed. "I believe I am no longer needed here," and left the room.

I took a breath, and maybe half a notch more calmly, asked Red, "Did the two of us...?"

"Nah. You said a lot of nonsense words like 'shmoopy' and we ended up cuddling - and that's it. No offense, but I'm not really interested that way in anypony who can't join me on a cloud."

I rubbed my face. "I suppose... things could have gone a lot worse. I'd like to apologize to you for... anything and everything."

"No biggie."

"Of course, he still deserves to be keelhauled for being that careless with a mind-altering substance. Or maybe introduced to some of Zecora's more interesting brews. Maybe I could convince the Princesses to turn him into a scullery maid..."

"When you decide which, let me know - I'll hold him down while you kick."

---

Sometime during the night, we'd arrived at Appleoosa. It wasn't actually the town of ponies I was interested in - rather, it was the buffalo. I was still trying to come up with a suitable vengeance on the Prince, and as a first installment, insisted that he walk with me to the buffalo's camp. From what I remembered in the show, and what I'd been able to read in the Canterlot libraries, they were a very close cognate to the Plains Indians I was more familiar with - which is what I was here to look into.

I was keeping an eye out for Little Strongheart or Chief Thunderhooves as the two of us walked into the camp, remembering them from the cartoon - but it was actually some of the buffalo ladies and their children who started talking to us first. "Ooh," said one mother to me, "It's been a while since we've seen one of you. Go on, little ones." She waved a hoof, and three or four of the near-babies wobblingly tottered towards us - and, I abruptly realized, were aimed not just at me, but at a very specific piece of my anatomy.

I thought I'd been getting used to having my udder emptied three times a day - but that was by a machine. I knew that udders were actually designed for what these little ones had in mind - but the thought of letting them do what they seemed to be planning with mine was pegging my 'awkward' and 'uncomfortable' meters at their highest readings. I quickly tried to think of a reason to politely decline without causing any sort of insult - and was actually able to come up with a pretty good one.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to block off my teats with my hooves, "but I drank something bad last night - a potion. It's probably tainted my milk, and I don't want anyone drinking it until it's had time to clear up." The little ones tried pulling puppy-dog eyes, but I kept my resolve firm, and their mothers called them back. Crisis averted.

Blueblood didn't say a word the entire time. I gave him a dirty look, and we continued into the camp.

---

We found Little Strongheart and the Chief, and introduced ourselves. I explained, "I believe there is a large danger approaching, and I am seeking knowledge on its nature, and how it might be dealt with. The ponies have one perspective... but my kind, the cattle, do not seem to have any information they do not; and I have only been able to talk with a single zebra. Your people are the first non-pony culture I have had a chance to visit... and I am hoping you have some way of learning things not used by the ponies."

Thunderhooves grunted, and Little Strongheart pointed at Blueblood. "And him?"

"He is... I guess you could say that he's my student, in a way - though I still haven't managed to teach him even that a full cup has to be emptied before you can pour something new into it." I was about to bop him with my hoof, when a rather more evil idea occurred to me. "He is also a Prince of the ponies, and this could be considered a royal visit from his people to yours. I'm sure he would love to learn more about your people... Say, do you think you might be able to arrange for one of those experiences where he has to fast, sweat in a steamy lodge, maybe hit himself on the back with tree boughs, until he starts seeing things that aren't normally there?"

Blueblood piped up with a "What? Sweat? What about my mane?"

Thunderhooves grunted, "I know the sort of ritual you speak of, and it is good that the ponies' Chief has come to learn of our ways." A minor herd of buffalo thundered by, sweeping Blueblood along with them as they went. "Little Strongheart, take her to the old woman."

I was soon brought to a tipi containing a grey-coated, withered and wizened buffalo wrapped in a blanket, smoking a pipe, who Little Strongheart whispered to, before leaving the two of us alone.

The woman didn't seem in any hurry to speak, but after a few minutes of nothing much happening, I spoke up, "Is this where I have to fast and bake in the sun and so on?"

She snorted. "Hardly. That's the men's ritual. They like showing off how strong they are. Us women are much more practical. Here." She hoofed me the pipe; I'd never touched so much as a cigarette while I was human, so I hesitated. And kept hesitating. The old woman glared at me and said, "Well?" So I put the pipe to my lips and cautiously inhaled some of the smoke...

"Took you long enough to get here," said a new voice.

---

I noticed that I had hands again. But I still had hooves. A lot of my original human self was overlapped with my newer bovine shape - only they were both the same, and there wasn't any overlapping at all. Realizing that I wasn't exactly in even the approximation of reality I'd been in a few minutes ago, I paid attention to my surroundings - and, instead of an old buffalo woman, there was a rather scrawny canine figure sitting in front of me. A coyote.

"Man," he said, "you've really had a number pulled on you."

I was having a bit of trouble sorting out which shape of mouth I had, but managed to ask, "Did you..?"

"Me? Not hardly." He stood up and trotted around me, looking me up and down. "If I had the oomph to pull one of you here and stick you even in as lousy a body as that, do you think I'd be picking up scraps from this crowd?"

"Dunno. Don't even know if you're real."

"Does it really matter if I am, or if I'm a hallucination, or some sort of manifestation of the collective unconscious?"

"'Course it does. Truth's important."

"Your obsessive-compulsive focus on the truth is what got you into this mess in the first place."

"An' I should believe you because...?"

"You shouldn't. It's a bad idea to believe anything I tell you. I'm not even supposed to be talking to you."

"Then why..?"

"I'm one of the original rule-breakers, babe. Or man. Speaking of which - tell you what, give me a quick roll in the hay and I'll swap you back to being the 'he' in 'herd'." He rolled onto his back and waggled his legs, showing himself off. "Or maybe not so quick - I can keep going and going and going..."

"You're obscene."

"And ever-ready. And you're sweet. I'm not hearing a 'no'..." I shook my head(s). "Pity. Well, if you're not here for that quick fix, how about a full shamanic initiation? I could have some spirits cut open your belly, scrub out your insides with wire brushes, and sew you back up all nice and purified."

"Is all that really necessary?"

"Course not! But most everyone who comes by here expects something of the sort, Duracell-brain."

"Pass. And I'd really rather skip any mysterious riddles that can only be guessed after they're of any use."

"Well, don't you just love squeezing the fun out of every-"

He was interrupted by a large, black bird flapping down and landing next to him. With a glare, the new arrival said, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Just the usual - putting the new blood through her paces, offering worthless riches and foolish wisdom-"

"You should know we've got more important things-!"

"And who's gonna stop me, featherbrain?"

The raven pecked, the coyote snarled, and in moments they were rolling around having a grand old brawl. I edged away, and said, "I'll just go over... this way," and since they didn't seem to notice, moved away from the melee.

I tried paying attention to the background landscape, but it was ever-shifting, synesthesiac, and often literally impossible to describe in words - so since any attempt I make to do so will give a completely false impression, it's probably best I don't even try. After a little while, the bird hopped over next to me, and commented, "Sorry about that - I wasn't expecting you until later in the day. He really should know better than to try to meddle in affairs larger than he is. Now, what was I planning on answering..."

I interrupted, "What information would help me the most, that I wouldn't have figured out in time by myself?"

"What?"

"You were aiming for the mysterious riddle, or the grant a wish but twist it to be what you were planning on doing anyway, or some other such shenanigans, weren't you?"

"Do you know who I am?" It spread its wings grandly.

"Nope. And I bet if I work at it, nobody else will, either. I wonder what happens to a piece of the collective unconscious when everyone forgets about it?"

Its feathers ruffled, and it preened at them. "You don't have to be rude about it."

"I'm very likely hallucinating - within what I'm still keeping long-shot odds as being a hallucination itself. If you're not going to help me, I've got better things to do with my time."

"Then I've got something to tell you." It gestured with a wing, so I leaned my head in closer, and closer, and the bird leaned into my ear...

"WAKE UP!"

---

It was morning - earlier in the morning, so presumably a later day. I felt like what everyone had always described a hangover felt like.

I saw Blueblood's airship sailing away.

He'd left a letter; stripped of the flowery header and footer, it read:

I now understand what you were trying to teach me. The education system has fallen so far that most ponies and cows don't actually know the benefits of being in their proper places; and so in order to get them to do what I want, I have to describe how what I want them to do matches up with their poor, misguided notions of what they think is in their best interests. It's all so obvious now, but I never would have figured it out without your help. I'm off to Canterlot to put all this to good use.

When I finished trudging back to Appleoosa itself, there was no sign of Red - hopefully, he'd just set sail while she was napping.

I wrote a letter of my own, to Princess Celestia, which summed up to:

I think I broke him. Sorry.

That royal pain-in-the-tail didn't even have the decency to leave me my milking machine, let alone my box of gold, let alone fare for a train ticket... I decided that the next time I saw him, I was going to murderize that misbegotten lump of applejohn, boil-brained, craven, doghearted, errant, fly-bitten, gudgeon, hasty-witted, ill-nurtured, joitheaded, knavish, lily-livered, mammering...

Comments

[Forevermore]

You're just rolling these things out, aren't you?

Ah well, I'm all for speed so long as quality doesn't suffer, and this chapter has been just as good as all the others soo...

twilight.ponychan.net/chan/arch/src/131234149698.gif

[AppleTank]

Blue's a bastard.

[DataPacRat]

840432
According to the people who run the Nebula awards, with this chapter I've just hit novel length - in 10 days of writing. Two or three more days and I'll be at what NaNoWriMo considers a novel.
And the whole thing is something that'll never make any money, is being done pretty much just for the fun of it, and is being read by an audience of hundreds of people scattered across the globe...
... don't you love living in the future?

[Forevermore]

840518
iambrony.jsmart.web.id/mlp/gif/affirm.gif

[DataPacRat]

840509
The trouble is, he's the only one who thinks he's a magnificent bastard...

[Chuck Norris]

840602

Isn't that the trouble with all bastards?
They all think they are hot shit and then, WHAT A , they aren't?

[Themaskedferret]

840518 Pfft I would gladly throw money at you to make this a book like Past Sins is doing. Throw up a paypal donate button or an address and i'll gladly give youmonies ort send baked goods and or plushies of gratitude.*

*Stalker GPS extra

[Ziper Ace]

Um....
What did the cow do??
But I am glad that BlueBlood realize the huge mistake that society have made in MLP Universe though.