25 - Down with a Sickness
"Bruce, is there something you want to talk to somepony about?" Cheerilee looked at me incredulously, having dropped the pencil during the second paragraph of my 'creative writing' portion. Because I couldn't mouth-write, the kind teacher pony had opted to give me my test orally. I was one question in and already causing mental scarring. The task: write a fairy tale. I may have used a loose interpretation of a 'fairy tale.'
"Shub Niggarath isn't that bad." Hey, it's a modern fairy tale!
"A gigantic mile-long sow with," she looked down at some of what she had written, "'black teats leaking a viscous pus, fouling and eating away at her belly as it oozes' isn't that bad?!"
"Yeesh, it's just a fertility goddess reversal." Cheerilee's stare caused my eyes to roll. I shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench. I think Cheerilee got the wrong message about that action as her stare softened in worry but honestly, my ass was going numb. "Instead of representing birth as a natural and wondrous act of giving, miss Shub represents the act of 'creating without thinking.' She is the anti-thesis to a proper fertility symbol. She's not even a goddess of sex, she's a creature that exists solely to create without thought as to her creations. If you can even give sense to a creature that exists outside of space and time." As I explained my concept of the 'Black Goat,' the mare's face changed from one of confusion and worry to horror and worry.
"Bruce, that's horrifying."
"Well, life's been pretty unstable as of late. We're all mites crawling on a dust mote suspended in a sunbeam, insignificant in our works and efforts as the universe around us decays into a black void of nothing." Cheerilee's shocked stare earned her another eye roll. "I haven't even gotten to the part where the protagonist realizes she's in the amassed filth of a millennium's worth of Shub crushing her own young under her enormous bulk as she thrashes in her madness and ecstasy, not to mention Shub's own - uhm, questionable cleanliness?"
A now green-ish looking Cheerilee looked between the lines of text she had written and my face a few times before pushing that portion of the test aside.
"Ahh, let's move on shall we?"
"How is it even possible to have four branches of government?" I scratched my head at the very concept of a four-branch government. Hell, I thought three was a bit overkill except in extremely large countries. Perhaps that should tell me where Equestria was on the scale side of things. Cheerilee - fresh from a 'drink break' where she undoubtedly told Spring of my love of Lovecraftian horrors - looked at me with a slightly confused yet still hopefully happy face.
"Uhm, this isn't really a class Bruce." I gave the teacher the biggest puppy-dog eyes I could muster. After a bit of fidgeting, she sighed. "Since we've already gone past that portion of the test ... the Legislative makes the laws, the Executive administers the laws, the Judicial judges actions and laws based on precedence and the Theocratic ensures that actions and laws don't hurt anyone." I blinked at her. Theocratic?
"That last one sounds like the Judicial with different words .. and really, Theocratic?" My question caused the poor mare to huff.
"Yes, well, the name is a hold over from when the Diarchy of Equestria was the Theocracy of Equestria." Silence reigned for a moment as we both gathered our thoughts. I spoke first.
"... you have any Crusades?" We sat there and blinked at each other as my question sunk in. It kinda makes sense they did, what with the CMC and all. I had a vision of cross-bearing ponies riding other ponies into battle against veiled ponies touting a crescent moon. Oh snap, that was probably not far from the truth, just replace the cross with a sun symbol. Wasn't the cross a sun symbol itself anyway? Enclose it in a circle - BAM - sun symbol! My sudden wool-gathering was interrupted by an answer.
"Uhm, yes. Yes, there were some situations where armies were formed under the Theocratic banner." She shifted nervously from hoof-to-hoof. Clearly, the poor mare was uncomfortable with some of her own country's earlier history and I should step carefully around this subject lest I really cause her worry.
"Wow, did you have any witch burnings?"
"What?!" Cheerilee's shocked expression told me that, yes, they had stake burnings at one point in time because she'd just be confused otherwise. Yeah, well, I'm a bull in a china shop here. The sooner I get home, the better.
"Now, here's an easy one. When was the Treaty of Hoof Glen signed?" History, my favorite subject! Never did well in it, to be honest, as I refused to keep my notes in order and every teacher I ever had ever was more interested in the student's ability to keep a neat binder. History should be about impact! It should be about why's and how's, not when's and where's! Damn public school system. Cheerilee cleared her throat and I responded with the first date that entered my head.
"1812." I smiled up at her incredulous look.
"... Bruce, that's eight hundred and nine years from now."
"I stand by my statement."
"No Bruce, heliocentrism has been proven wrong numerous times."
"Issac Newton says otherwise and he's older than you so I'm more apt to trust him." I crossed my arms petulantly and turned my nose up at her as the red-pink mare facehooved.
"Bruce ..."
"Actually, it was Galileo but gravity is important too."
"I hesitate to ask but, do you know the First Law of Thaumatological Decay?" I think I broke her spirit. She was reading the questions and writing my often very silly answers without much response. We had already gone through a good chunk of the test by this point and I was pretty sure I was doing terribly. I needed to up my game, come out with something that resembled a proper answer.
"Isn't that what happens when you don't brush your teeth?" Cheerilee sighed as she wrote down that ridiculous answer. No, that proper answer thing can go eat a bullet. I was actually having fun with this.
"Where is the Zebra homeland located?" Cheerilee grimly looked at me as I mulled this question over in my head. Africa was probably the closest Earth-style local but I didn't exactly know the name of it here. I shrugged and went with it anyway.
"Africa."
"Well, no. It's located in Zebrican. But bonus points for creativity." As the test wore on, Cheerilee had become more sarcastic herself. It didn't bother me but I was pretty sure this was a side of her personality she didn't show her students often. "You know, if we gave bonus points on this thing."
"I'll give you some bonus points."
"Bruce, focus on the test, not my - ahem - 'cutie mark.'" I gaped at her for a minute as she smirked at me. Slowly, my mouth turned upwards in a grin. I like her. Not going to go easy on her but I like her.
"... therefore, the area of the field is the limit as x approaches six, six times four minus six times zero, simplified as twenty four." The final portion of the test, probably the most dreaded part for most normal colts and fillies. Math. I told you I was in Advanced Calculus in High School, right?
"Bruce, why did you use this weirdo calculus to figure out the area of a six by four plot of land?!" I opened my mouth as Cheerilee quietly fumed across from me, closed it and placed hoof to chin to consider. The 'show work' portion of that one had taken up half a sheet of paper and it was the first of twenty or so.
"Uhm, cause I could?" I think her groan damaged my hearing.
"Sooo, Bruce." Cheerilee looked over the test I had just taken with the look a cow gives an oncoming train. I don't think I did that poorly. Well, maybe I did. "I've graded your test and I must say, I've never seen scores quite like this before."
"That's a good thing, right?" I had abandoned the bench-desk thing as soon as was physically possible and man, my butt had never been more sore. Well, except that one time but everyone experiments, right? The teacher's eyes slid over to me with the same expression she had regarded my paper with and gave me that fake-grin thing that should work on exactly two ponies in the world but everypony seemed to think was a wonderful way of putting a foal at ease. Yeah, thanks for that.
"Well, uh. Your math is great!"
"That's a given. I'm thirty."
"Uhm, yes. Well, other than that ..." I huffed. Lacking Wikipedia sucked, I couldn't prove a thing without it. Hell, I'm pretty sure the notation I used for that silly calculus was completely wrong. Cheerilee looked over her sheet once more, lips tight. "Let's call in your foster father and counselor and we can all discuss this as a group, hmm?"
I shrugged and soon enough, was joined by a couple of nervous nellies. Mr. Cake seemed to be shifting a bit on his pillow while Spring - a font of patience and wisdom - was staring straight ahead as if she was about to be mauled by manticores. Yeah, these two were really helping keep my ass calm. Good thing I'm a very calm and collected person right? Cheerilee sighed and passed the pair some notes she had jotted down in between my answers.
"So, Cheerilee, how is he placing?" Spring glanced over the sheet and I swear, her eyes bugged out! Like literally bulged out of her face. I was intrigued by that reaction. And just a little creeped out. But above all else I was bursting with hopeful joy. Even with my moodiness and my inability to control my energy - I was tapping a hoof as we sat because I had been sitting for two hours already and damn it, I needed to move - I had great hopes for this test to at least stick the potential of my situation into her thick damn skull!
Ah hope. Screw you too.
"Well, his writing is ... not there at all." Yeah, open on my weakest point Cheerilee. Thanks. The teacher sighed. "I had to give him the oral test because he couldn't write at all."
"Oh my." Mr. Cake ignored the probably arcane sheet in front of him and looked at me with sad eyes. I shrugged at him, failing miserably to put his mind at ease.
"He can read though, Carrot. My goodness, can he read. Well, earth pony anyway." Cheerilee grimaced, trying hard to put her next thoughts into careful words. "And he is - remarkably, uhm. Creative? For his age."
"That's ... weird." Spring was tilting both her head and the sheet she was holding. Looking at it at a different angle wasn't going to make it any more logical you daft pegasus.
"Unless I'm not in my own body." I mumbled it just loud enough to be heard and glared at the counselor when she looked over at me in confusion. "Makes sense that my writing skill would be absolutely nothing if I'm used to, I don't know, hands or something." I waved a hoof at her with a frown. She pursed her lips in response, going back to the test with a sharper eye.
"Yes, that brings me to the next part. He placed low in writing and reading because of that," Cheerilee somehow managed to continue over my shouted 'What?!' - and slight coughing fit - without missing a beat, "but it's his math that really shines. You can see he's well into tertiary school level math. Some of his science is high but in other parts he's far behind." I managed to gasp a breath of air before anypony else could reply.
"I should be into college courses! That's calculus. Calculus! If I could remember any more of it ..." Mr. Cake looked between me and Cheerilee with the most astonished look possible. "And pardon me if magic wasn't a big bullet point in my school district."
"... yes, well. Calculus is actually a bit outside my memory as well." The teacher at least had the good graces to look sheepish. I couldn't really blame her for forgetting that kind of thing. It was almost fifteen years ago, I can't remember any of that physics crap I had to learn. "Finally, his civics, history and geography are ..."
"Absolute shit." Three adult heads snapped to me with angry glares. I glared back. "They are! Provinces!? The only provinces I remember are Alberta, Nova Scotia, Quebec, Manitoba, British Columbia and the Yukon unless that's the one with the changed name. And I know I'm missing one!" Sorry, Canada. If it makes you feel better, I doubt I could name the fifty states. Actually, scratch that. I couldn't name half of them. My own glare remained steady as Spring lifted a hoof to place it gently on my shoulder.
"Bruce, it's ok. We're not judging you. This isn't a thing where you fail or pass." Spring actually sounded reassuring. It was still a bit irritating but I think I was getting a bit defensive and with a bit of grouchy mumbling on my part, I realized she was right. I took a deep breath to calm myself and nodded.
"I'm sorry, you're right." The adults all gave a sigh of relief at defusing me. I winced slightly at that but I figured I was trying to re-learn how to control myself. Or something. I don't even know anymore.
"He's all over the charts, Spring." Cheerilee chewed on her lip a bit. "I have no idea where to put him, honestly. He should be in tertiary school or even at an apprenticeship with some of these scores but others he is lacking so much he needs to be tutored to even get him to a grade school level." The teacher gave a helpless shrug. "I just don't know."
"Cheerilee, Carrot? I think we should discuss this without Bruce for a little bit." I looked at Spring, trying to gauge where she was going with this. She smiled back. "I'll look into sending that Petition to the Crown out tonight after we get done here but you should get that cough checked out. And we are in a hospital."
For a moment, I could only stare at her with this dumbfounded look on my face. Her smile slowly slipped into a frown and her forehead creased slightly at the growing expression of terror that replaced my normal grim and surely look. She opened her mouth to speak but that was when it began.
"No god! No god please no! No! No! NOOOOOOO-" Hooves leapt to ears as my high pitched scream of horror echoed through the hospital. I think another dog began barking and somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of light piano music began to play.
A nurse-orderly-type pony led me into one of those cold, sterile rooms that doctors love to look at you in and hefted me up onto the table. Thankfully, he used his hooves instead of his nose. The room was rather unremarkable; just an examination table, a side table thing and a cabinet filled with medical supplies. Very little else that I could see. Admittedly, I was a bit lower than most things when I entered and was more concerned with being pout-y than giving the room more than a cursory glance.
I'm a kid now, for some reason, so I can be pout-y.
Why did they insist I wear a hospital gown? I was naked normally! There was no point in wearing something now. My protests remained unvoiced though. Felt kinda good to be wearing clothing of some kind even if it did leave much to be desired about covering things up. The nurse pony turned on his heel and walked out, not even giving me a cursory glance. I think he was offended I compared his mane with spaghetti.
"Hello again, Bruce." And here was the kick in the balls. That Doctor Horse fellow that had looked over me while I was stoned out of my mind walked in with a slight smile. Orange muffin top and all. I groaned and face hoofed.
"In my defense, I was stoned out of my gourd." I didn't see his reaction but his chuckle was telling. I lowered my hoof and fell backward onto the paper-covered examination table, spread eagle. At the time, I was not thinking about how the patient gown was opened on the 'bottom' of me.
"Yes, well. In my defense, I've never met a colt quite like you before." He turned from me and began to leaf through a folder I hadn't noticed sitting on a side table. Yeah, like there's a whole lot to leaf through there, buddy. Three pages in, he sighed. He seemed to dislike having much information about his charges. Can't blame him. What if I was allergic to paper or something?
"One of a kind, man." He grunted at me, pursing his lips. I sighed. I was not having a good time anymore. "Let's get this silliness over with."
"... right. Well, I hear you've been coughing horribly lately." He glanced over at me, as if for confirmation.
"Smoker," I replied with a hoof pointed at my own chest.
"Mmm, I would still like to take a few tests, is that all right with you dearie?"
"Yeah, better to be safe than sorry and all." He nodded at me and walked over with a stethoscope in his hoof. Three-legged hobbling looked mighty uncomfortable and I hadn't gotten the bravery to try it but still, the ponies managed. With his hooves, he managed to wedge the earpieces in and start listening all across my chest. I was about to roll over but he seemed more interested in the front of my body. I did self-consciously cross my legs, though. Yeah, didn't think this position through.
"Well, you've got some congestion in your lungs but not enough to really warrant the kind of cough Spring reported. Say 'ahhh.'" First he took my temperature - the correct way this time. I knew that nurse was a freak. Then came those weird nose-light things. Finally - from somewhere - he produced a cotton swab. "And finally, a sample." Then he started trying to force feed me the thing. I felt it scraping along the back of my throat. Gives a whole new meaning to the term 'deep throat,' WAY-OH!
"GAAAH!" I tried to force his hooves away but his glare and the fact that he was a bit on the 'stronger than me' side of things made me try to control my retching.
"Yes. Rather uncomfortable, I know. I'll take this for some testing and we'll have the results in a few hours." He hobbled over to the table and - producing a glass jar from one of the various drawers - plunked the unlucky swab in a cold and uncaring prison.
"Magic must be nice." Getting viable test results from that should be at least a day or two but adding magic to the mix means anything is possible. Almost. I licked my lips and made faces, trying to get the feeling of that dry cotton scraping away my oral virginity. Blah.
"Ah'm a' earf pony like you, Brushe." He had gone back to the small packet of doctor notes and forms, scribbling away in his chicken scratch. No I couldn't see it but he's a doctor. That's what every doctor's hand/mouth writing looks like. Try making it legible doc. Mouth writing looks hard. I miss my hands so much.
"But you have access to magic. Also, doesn't everypony have magic inside them?" He spat out the pencil he was using and gave me a sidelong glance as I resettled myself on my side, hind leg conveniently placed to hide my ... I'd say shame but really, these ponies don't have that.
"Well, yes. That's true. Anyway, there are a few things I'd like to get checked out more thoroughly." He walked over and called out the door. "We're ready for you Doctor Clear Throat." I wanted to make another deep throat comment but managed to keep it in. WAY-oh, never mind. A purple maned, white coated unicorn mare trotted in and smiled at me. If she took better care of herself, I'd almost mistake her for Rarity. Seriously, all ponies look like ponies. Only difference between her and the seamstress were the eyes - yellow on white was a bit much. Maybe in a few years I'd be able to tell them apart better. Maybe they had subtle facial variations I just haven't been able to pick up on. Maybe they're all clones.
"Hello, 'Bruce' was it? I'm Doctor Clear Throat and," she blinked in confusion as I tried desperately to hold back my snickers, "and ... and I'm a pulmonologist. That's a lung doctor."
"Yeah, my whole family smokes." I giggled again. She looked questioningly at Doctor Horse-face but only received a shrug in response. I'm sorry, the 'throat' name was throwing me for a loop. I cleared my throat and regarded her with a keen eye. "Shouldn't you be an ear, nose and throat doc, doc?"
"Er, why do you say that Bruce?"
"Names here tend to anticipate both talents and cutie marks." She quirked an eyebrow at me as Muffin-top facehooved.
"Uh, Bruce, my full name is Charlie Horse."
"...BWAHAHAHA!" I was almost rolling. Sometimes, puns are funny. Especially when it ends up as some poor sop's name. Both doctors looked at each other confused as I ended up fighting a fit of the giggles. "Le-let me guess, your specialty was musculature?"
"Uh, no Bruce. I'm a pediatrician."
"Pedo-whatnow?"
"Bruce!" Both doctors looked so aghast at that it actually stopped my giggles. Geez, tough crowd. I rolled my eyes at their expressions.
"Sorry, bad joke."
"Bruce, please do not make those kinds of jokes. That is a very serious crime and I take my patient's health and well-being very seriously." Ok, Doctor Horse was one of those guys. Why so serious?
"Seriously?" I tried for a troll-face but I can't stretch my skull in that way. I think I pulled a muscle trying. Both doctors blinked at my antics as I worked the sudden kink out of my jaw. They looked marvelously confused. I think I get why Discord was such a jerk. Geez, I'm rooting for the villains now. Deus ex machina, get me out of here before ponies are ruined forever.
"What?" they asked in unison.
"Never mind. So, what are we going to do on the bed?" With that horrid saying out of the way, I fell backwards on purpose, letting the air escape from underneath my back in a puff. If you get the reference, shame on you. I feel shame knowing it. I stretched languidly and slowly, hiding my 'self' with one leg the whole while. Damn, maybe I should do this for a living.
"... uhm, Doctor Horse? Is-" Doctor Throat gave the brown earth pony a sidelong glance, trying to keep my supine form in view all the while. Her eyes were very wide. I don't think I was helping my case here any.
"Spring is already taking care of his case, Clear."
"Oh. OH." Her pupils shrunk to pinpricks as what her colleague said settled in. If she wasn't white before, she definitely would have paled at that. I gave her a 'come hither' stare. She backed up. I was feeling flush with victory in my 'war against Spring's skeptic' and was taking way too many chances. This would never come back to bite me in the rump, what are you talking about? "Is this...?"
"Yes." Despite her hushed tones, Charlie's grim assurance was spoken in a normal volume. I switched my 'come hither stare' to him, complete with waggled eyebrows. He only glared back at me, causing my face to collapse.
"Party pooper."
"I see." In a flash, Doctor Throat's face went from an almost blank thousand yard stare of horrific realization into that fake-smile adult ponies seem to think foals love. "Well, Bruce! We're going to do a bit of a magical scan on your lungs - those big bags that let you breathe! It might tingle but it won't hurt a bit. Won't that be fun?"
"Oh for the love of bob." I covered my face with a hoof and nodded, just to get it over with. I couldn't see her magic begin but I knew when it started. Tingle nothing, that thing tickled. It was like feathers across your chest - only a pony chest seems to be more ticklish than a human one. I may have yiped at the first contact but I'm guessing they were expecting that because the mare didn't let up. Man, I was choking trying not to laugh out loud as those little tingle-tickles of magic ran up and down my chest. A look down showed my whole chest area bathed in a yellow aura and Dr. Throat's face scrunched in concentration. After a minute of her little yellow sparks going off, she let up and I could breathe again.
"Well, your lungs are as fit as a fiddle-" She was about to continue but both Doctor Pulled-Leg and myself sort of interrupted her.
"Haaa, wait what?"
"What?" Doc Horse-Puller had as surprised look on his face as mine. I guess me being a smoker really was fact for him. It was for me but that's because I was the one smoking a few days ago.
"That's what I sa-look, I'm a smoker. I should have tar deposits in my lungs as well as-" My rant was cut off by a shake of Clear's head.
"No, no you're not."
"What?" I am a font of creativity and original content, folks.
"You already said that." She grinned at me as my face morphed into 'that look.' You know, the one a kid gives you when you say something so stupid, even they have a hard time believing it. Clear rolled her eyes at me, unimpressed with my world-savy abilities. "Look, with my magic, I can tell a great deal about the internal organs of ponies. You, young stallion," she punctuated that with a hoof jab toward me, "are perfectly healthy, lung wise. Some minor irritation, that's all. Lots of congestion in the upper respiratory tract, though. You've taken a sample?" Doctor Horse nodded, eyeing me as if I was some criminal. I've said nothing but the truth. "Alright, I'd like to isolate him."
"Aww man, really?"
"Yes, really. You've got a slight fever, according to this chart, and I'm not taking any chances."
The universe hates me. It really, really hates me. You know how I can tell? I was in the same damn hospital room I had escaped from only a day or two prior! Same pea-green colored paint job, same bed ... if they hadn't changed the sheets, I might have a lawsuit on my hooves. I'm guessing they did though. And it wasn't but a few moments after the nurse-orderly-pony stallion had walked out that I saw my third 'I thought I wasn't going to see you again' surprise.
"Well, this is a surprise." Nurse 'Soap' eyed me warily from the doorway. I gave her a once over, my normal frown morphing into a sneer of displeasure.
"... yeah, unpleasant though it may be." I was already in bed and the clear plastic sheeting surrounding me really lent the whole room that air of 'immanent death' that every hospital needed. So not only was I evidently no longer a smoker, I had ebola or something. My immense imagination was running through every 'worst possible thing' from bleeding from every orifice to zombies. I was in no mood for this nurse's 'I know better than you' attitude.
"Don't sass, young stallion." She hadn't left her station near the door. Clearly I was a pariah. I hoped I was contagious and it was airborne enough to get out of the plastic shroud and infect her. Well, not really. I hoped it was a cold and I could go 'home' soon.
"I only sass when sassed," I sassed. Her wide eyes and shocked expression told of a world of word-torment to come. I grinned at her, a grin with no warmth whatsoever. Bring it.
"You infuri-no, no." A calm breath later, she regarded me very coldly. "Look, I don't really like your attitude-"
"Couldn't tell." She paused at my interjection, giving me time to finish anything else I'd want to say. I didn't give her the satisfaction of having anything else to say. After a second, she continued with more force behind her words.
"-but you are a patient. Now then, your foster father, counselor and that teacher from Ponyville East are here to see you." She turned as she finished, clearly intending to send the trio of semi-rational adults in with me.
"Well send them in, Miriam! Chop-chop." I clopped my hooves together in a farce of clapping. The nurse paused at the doorway and I could hear a low and very angry growl. She didn't chose to reply, which was a shame. I had some suggestions on how to make the room a bit cheerier.
"Bruce, you really shouldn't antagonize the nurses. They're here to make sure you get better." Mr. Cake - ever the conciliatory gentlestallion - frowned at me with those sad eyes of his as he followed Spring and Cheerilee into my boudoir of sickness. I almost shot him a sarcastic comment or two but bit my tongue. Poor guy didn't deserve having to deal with me.
"Right, once we figure out what's wrong with me." It wasn't sarcastic! It was pessimistic and fatalist. There's a difference. I began to pout a bit before noticing the worried looks the three adults were giving me. Spring stepped forward but remained silent. It was kinda creeping me out and I nervously looked between the three faces, searching for a clue as to what was going on. "What?"
"They'll have the test results in a few hours. We'd like to talk about ... you," Spring replied, her tone very even and steady. Yeah, I could tell she was controlling herself. That alone began to ratchet up my already rapid heartbeat. What do I do when nervous? I make things worse. I placed hoof to chin again in a parody of deep thought.
"Well, I'm a Taurus, I like quiet nights at home, prefer cats to dogs and am looking for a mare that shares my preference for drinking until unconsciousness and wild nights of hot, wet - "
"BRUCE!" Three shocked voices cut me off before I could finish. I looked at them confused.
"... bubble baths." My poker face was never this good as a human. Cheerilee leaned in towards Mr. Cake, her face a deadpanned look of acceptance.
"He's always like this, isn't he?" she whispered.
"Yeah." Mr. Cake eyed me from where he stood, a bit sad and a bit ... disappointed. I tore my eyes away from his, unwilling to go down that path again. 'Son I am disappoint' really does work, somehow.
"Now Bruce, we've gone over your test results and ... well, they're strange." Spring's facade of control was slipping a bit because I saw some conflicting emotions roiling away underneath her mask. I couldn't read them for the life of me though. The show was never this detailed.
"And I'm not?" I asked, one eyebrow raised. Spring rolled her eyes at me and groaned.
"Yes, well, I have a few questions about you. Be honest." That got to me, it really did. I haven't lied a bit since I ended up in pretty pink princess ponyland. I may be many things but a liar I am not. I met Spring's hopeful gaze with as intense a look as I could muster. Cheerilee snickered but I paid her no mind. I was a serious tiny baby pony, damn it.
"Ms. Meadows, I haven't been dishonest since I woke up." She stared at me for a moment before nodding. She took a deep, calming breath and released it slowly.
"Ok, why do you speak Equestrian?" I blinked at her question. That's a very good question. Why do I speak Equestrian? Oh, wait.
"I don't." Three adult faces tilted to the side in unison and pursed their lips in thought. It was like a 'synchronized tilt.' Mr. Cake broke the silence with a very uncomfortable 'uhm' sound. I facehooved. Of course they're going to question that.
"I don't, really. I speak English. It's pretty dang close to Equestrian though. Somebody instead of somepony, little things like that. But mostly, it matches creepily well." As the three ponies tried to wrap their heads around that thought, I began to count the seconds until somepony responded. I got to about fifteen before Cheerilee spoke up.
"That makes no sense."
"Lady, I make no sense. I shouldn't be here. I am not scientifically possible. And yet." I spread my arms out wide, slightly gesturing at my form. Cheerilee frowned at my use of the term 'lady' but said nothing. "It's strange, about the strangest thing I've seen thus far and that's counting the magic stuff. But it's not entirely impossible." Spring shook her head, about to protest but I continued on. "Look, divergent evolution aside, if our cultures match closely enough, why wouldn't our language be similar? Is it a one-in-a-million chance? Sure. Fertilization is the same way. One twitch the wrong way, and you get a male instead of a female. Or even a foetus that's not functional."
"That is really creepy," Mr. Cake stated flatly, a grimace replacing his confusion. I pointed a hoof at him roughly.
"Your face."
"What?" He drew back, hoof raised. Cheerilee glared at me though I ignored her. I think I offended my foster father so I waved my hoof at all three of them and began to clarify my statement.
"Ponies. You guys are all CREEPY! BIG giant eyes that shouldn't be possible in ball form, gia-" My listing was interrupted by Cheerilee.
"Ball? Pony eyes are plates." She poked her face with a hoof - just below the eye - and stretched it. The motion distorted her eye itself, pulling it into a mockery of form that will haunt me until the end of time oh my freaking god. My face changed from regular-sour to terrifyingly-horrified - yes, it's different from regular horrified - in less time than it takes Pinkie Pie to eat an entire cake.
"OH GOD, I CAN'T UNFEEL IT!" I was suddenly acutely aware of the shape of my own eye 'plates' and began to roughly hoof at my face. I think I was trying to dig them out or something and I was lucky that the thought of eye 'plates' caused me enough distress to close my eye lids. I heard the sound of two sets of hooves rushing towards me - though I was only dimly aware of my surroundings because eye plates! What the actual fuck? The sound of plastic being ripped followed the sounds of hooves.
"Bruce, stop, you're going to hurt yourself," Spring said and I felt two pairs of hooves trying to restrain me. I fought them, though. I gave it my all because I would be damned if I was going to be subjected to the sensation of my iris floating across a plate of gelatinous goo.
"Argh, get them out, get them out!" I was thrashing around pretty well and it took both mares to keep me from disfiguring myself. I think Mr. Cake had joined me and I could barely hear somepony shout for a nurse when the door flew open, startling us all. I still pulled at their grip - Mr. Cake had taken my hind legs while I was flanked by both mares - but the look on the doctor's face had kicked me out of 'eye plate' horror.
"Shpring. We 'eed to chlear t'is room imme'iately." He cantered over towards me, syringe in mouth. Oh no. No, not again! I began fighting once more, looking on as the syringe got ever-closer to my pristine flesh. My babbling of protests did not dissuade anypony and the conversation continued on around me.
"Doctor Horse? What's going on?" Spring was ... terrified. There was no mask, no fake smile. She was afraid for some reason. The way she glanced at me afterwards made me realize - she was afraid for me. If she wasn't currently holding me down in a 'rape' pose as a doctor I had not too long ago pissed off approached me with a needle, I would have felt the warm and bubblies.
Doctor Horse spat out the syringe and I watched as it was caught very nicely by a light yellow aura. Doctor Throat followed closely behind her colleague, maneuvering the poison-filled weapon of torture with practiced ease. It was probably sedative but I wasn't really sure of that.
"The testing has finished." Doctor Throat looked gravely at the adults assembled. I felt like I was in one of those medical dramas, it was uncanny. "It's diphtheria."
"WHA-" honk honk honk Talk about a surprise! Any other exclamations were silenced as I hacked out another lung - I was starting a collection you see - and Doctor Throat looked down at me with those yellow eyes of hers gently smiling.
"Ok, Bruce. I think it's time for a nap." I felt the prick of the needle against my flank and growled out the first thing that came to mind, choked out between coughs.
"This is," cough, "bullshit."
I opened my eyes, the swirling colors and thumping noises sending my head into a whirlwind of pain. I moaned loudly as I lifted my head, rubbing my temples and trying to settle my stomach from the assault of light and sound. Suddenly, a loud smack brought me out of my haze and drew my eyes upwards.
"Hey buddy, it's closing time. How about we settle your tab and you can be on your way?" The moustachioed man across the bar from me eyed me carefully, used to violent antics from college kids. At least they were going somewhere with their lives. "You gonna be okay to drive there?"
"Yeah. Yeah." I reached into my coat pocket and drew out my wallet. With a practiced flick, my card was in the bartender's hand and he was off to settle on how much of my dwindling bank account the drinks would cost me. As he left, my eyes fell on the mirror behind stacks of mixers and hard liquor. Steel blue eyes met same and I grimly looked over what I had become. My own mustache and goatee - poorly trimmed - sitting on an extremely pale oval of milky white and framed by thin and limp brown hair that fell to just above where pectorals would be on anyone in decent shape. My blue work shirt unbuttoned, my tie laying limp and loose against my chest and on top of all of that my very stupid and very dear black leather duster. I reached out and sat my black leather hat back where it rightfully belonged just in time to sign my receipt and make my way wearily out of the near abandoned bar and into the muggy summer night air. Nashville was always such a treat in the summer.
"Ahhhh, I hate this city," I mumbled as the familiar smells of car exhaust and the nearby 'Bum'berland River besieged my nostrils. The smell of diesel and sewage, my favorite mix. I heaved a sigh and began my trek home keeping one eye out for shadows and a hand on my .380. Yeah, I carried into a bar. Take my C&C permit, I don't care. At least it wasn't far. The dirty street was lit only by lamps that glimmered harshly off of the surrounding businesses windows which slowly, over the course of a few minutes, changed into run down homes and corner stores. Most of the buildings were built in the 20's and 30's and from where I walked, none had been renovated since they were raised. A few of the houses had lights on - though most were boarded and abandoned - and I could hear shouts of anger from at least three separate homes as I passed. Thick brick doesn't help keep the sounds of a domestic situation from the street at that volume.
Home sweet home. A solid brick house - built circa 1930 - with a yard more dirt than grass and an old Buick parked in the driveway. Faded and pealing white trim outlined the squat one story building, giving it just that much of a run-down feel that it matched every other house on the block. Blink as you drove by and it was gone, lost to a sea of similarity. One house in a million and it held the most important thing in the world.
"Baby, I'm home." The front led into the 'living room' though it was more a storage shed than a proper room. Hell, I hadn't seen the couch in at least a year. It was dark but the light shining down the hallway was enough to see by - the scuffed wood floors, the yellowed 'white' paint, the haphazard stacks of three decades of life. I eyed the collapsed section of the ceiling that led into the attic space as I shed my coat and hat. Raccoons liked to get into the attic but it didn't seem there were any unwanted guests that night. I tromped across the wood floor, following the light. "Baby, you in here?"
The hallway connected the rest of the house. Every room had a doorway onto it. The kitchen, the single bathroom and the single bedroom all opened onto that central corridor. The light led me right to the bedroom, pouring out of the half-open door. My heart began to pound. She hadn't replied. Why hadn't she replied? I fingered my pathetic pistol - still in my hand from the walk - and moved up cautiously on the room.
"Baby?" With a nudge from my free hand, I opened the bedroom door fully and I fully felt my heart stop. There are times when everything in the world slows down and you remember each and every detail as if it was burned into your mind with a hot iron. I remember the TV flickering with some news program. I remember the grain of the wood on the floor. I remember the pile of laundry, spread out from where it had fallen from both basket and hand. I saw the collapsed form of my wife laying on the bedroom floor, barely breathing.
"Where are you?" Celestia Suntouched, Princess of Equestria and Ruler of the Sun, stood upon her balcony and surveyed her lands - attempting through sheer strength of will to make the strange creature manifest itself. Above her head, pegasi circled in marked airways while the distant sounds of commerce echoed through the almost canyon-like avenues. The tall white spires of her city shone almost painfully white in the late afternoon sun while the masses of colorful ponies below wound through wide avenues and streets lined with trees so verdant they almost glowed themselves. Beyond the high walls lay her lands, bright green and dusty brown alike. Fields and forests, rivers and lakes, towns and cities - a patchwork quilt of precise and measured form. Each blue, green or earthen jewel placed in just the proper way so as to maximize each yard of land.
For two days, the Solar Princess of Equestria had come to this balcony to stare off across her lands. For two days, her Court had been adjured. For two days, she had sequestered herself in her rooms, going through reams of reports and almost frothing with worry. For two days, her scouts had scoured the lands surrounding Canterlot for any sign of strange creatures or unknown entities.
For two days, Celestia Suntouched - the most powerful mare in all of Equis and one of the most powerful creatures her world had ever seen - felt powerless.
"For all my spies, for all my guards, for all my power ... yet you remain hidden to me." Her voice was a whisper, barely heard by her own ears above the cacophony of sounds from below. A knocking at her study door jerked her mind back to the here-and-now and Celestia shook her head in the Ancien way. Calling over her shoulder, she bid the guard enter.
"Your Majesty." The unicorn guard's voice - one Sergeant Shield - cut clearly through the echoes below. Celestia turned from her perch, a mask of motherly love firmly in place against her worry.
The gilded portal of gold-chased marble led directly into her study, her functional and sturdy desk facing the door opposite. Other than that well worn relic, the rest of the room was lavishly decorated with inlaid precious metals, jewels of such clarity as to cause a grown dragon to weep and tapestries woven of pure silk with such skill that anypony would swear they were alive if so much as a breeze shifted them in their silent vigil. The stoic guard bowed at her approach.
"Rise Sergent. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Celestia stepped into her refuge from the many demands of her Principality - Empire in all but name - and gracefully moved to meet her guard without the weight of her now overloaded desk imposing itself between them. The silver gilded guard rose, his eyes rising further than his head to meet hers. A millennium of learning the subtle variations of her subject's features made even her blank faced guards as easy to read as a lighted sign. Confusion and worry for her safety caused a tension in his face and withers that shouted of an unexpected guest. Celestia knew his message even before he had begun to deliver it but allowed him his piece regardless.
"Your Majesty, there is a ... visitor here bearing your mark." The guard's tone told more than his words did. Displeasure at the unexpected interruption. Disdain at the visitor's appearance. And again, worry at his charge's safety. All this and more in tones that most ponies would find impossible to find and in slight muscle twitches only centuries of study could bring forward to the conscious mind. To the general population, every guard was a solid stone carving of determination. To Celestia, however, they were as easy to read as any book. Celestia said nothing of this, however. She only smiled down with her mask of motherly care covering her nervousness and hope.
"Please send her in." A slight widening of the eyes, a short intake of breath. Her guard was surprised. Celestia's boundless experience in reading a pony and her own knowledge of her unannounced visitor reinforced the common thought of her own near-omniscience. She shivered as her guard turned to lead the 'unknown' mare in. A misconception uncorrected was as good as a lie but such lies were useful. Celestia silently wished for a day when they were not.
Not but a moment later was the expected 'unexpected' mare ushered in under the watchful glare of her guard, her cloak still stained from travel. The light grey pony was hornless and her cloak hid all else but Celestia knew this mare well. With a burst of golden magic, Celestia sealed her room from all sound - the sudden quiet a jarring difference from the muffled noise drifting from below. With a nod to her guest, the Sun Princess sat demurely on the floor, her head lowered as the mare removed her hood and gazed on her ruler with golden eyes. At least one of them regarded her, the other drifting across the oculus plate lazily. Fake eyes were very difficult to keep still, after all. The grey mare did not bow nor scrape. Her tasks were more important and secret than those oft shown yet unnecessary displays of submission.
"Derpy, you have something of grave interest to report?" Celestia's voice was soft but tinged with concern and worry. Derpy's task was to watch over her most precious friends - and tools. For the mailmare and watcher to make such a trip from Ponyville at such little notice was greatly distressing. Even more-so in light of the fact her student had made no mention of anything untoward in her latest report. Derpy nodded, her false eye bouncing across her plate gently.
"Yes, your Majesty. I was asked to keep an eye out for any undocumented creatures and despite how odd it sounds, I may have found it. Well, him." Celestia's head snapped up, her eyes suddenly intent and searching. She saw nothing in her spy's face to indicate deception but there was an under current of worry. Worry of bringing poor news.
"Tell Us, Dame Derpy, of this 'him.' If it is the creature We seek, We would be grateful to hear news." Celestia spared a glance towards her still open balcony, separated only by a glimmering sheen of her golden magic. If the creature was in Ponyville, reaching him was no longer a problem. Retrieving him might very well be.
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*sniff* Its beautiful
lovecraft and eye plates. Well thats just incredibly disturbing
haha, great chapter. Will the next update be out quicker than this one?
N-n-nice!
More.
I was reading this earlier and bam, my entire night is better!
FINALLY, I swear you are the ultimate troll...but I thought you were not going to go anywhere with this or push the story but
for once saves the day in a fanfic... I think? Well I will find out lol... Oh to be it bluntly: 
MOAR! 
Yay! An update is good at this late late hour dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/sillyfilly_Rainbow_Dash.png
First off, did you release this chapter and take it back down? 'Cause how else did Jamie comment on it 4 weeks ago?
Second, HOLY TACO IT'S BACK!
Have you decided that his cutie mark is "Being the Chosen One?"
Whoo! Been thinking about this one lately, wondering when the update will happen.
And poor fuckers back in the hospital, with a serious disease. Lucky sod, isn't he?
And nice idea for how eyes work. No wonder he freaked out after noticing.
>"Bruce, why did you use this weirdo calculus to figure out the area of a six by four plot of land?!"
>"Uhm, cause I could?"
as if I needed another reason to like Bruce
yet another amazing Chapter, can't wait to read more
Good chapter, wonder what celestia wants with him. Bruce and you both have creepy imaginaltions. Eyeplates? Really was that fucking needed?
Eye-PLATES. That's something I'm not gonna be able to unsee anytime soon.
As per usual your dialogue and interaction scenes are simply gorgeous. You shine above the rest with these and I almost wish you would have an entire story of just two ponies sitting and talking. I would definitely read it, because that is where the bulk of your amazing talent lies.
Awesome to see an update to this. I almost expected it was dead.
Fucking hell this story is amazing!
I'm curious as to why Celestia would be concerned about a human thats trapped in a foals body, but thats if she even knows that Bruce is human.
Eye plates?! I threw up in my mouth a little...
That was... pretty weird. I can see where it needs editing, but it was very good nonetheless.
Oh sweet merciful Luna the eye-scream. Trying to do that... wow.
Final note: I think I can speak for most readers that we have been wanting to see where he was Educationally since you mentioned Cheerilee coming onscreen.
Well, I'm a Taurus, I like quiet nights at home, prefer cats to dogs and am looking for a mare that shares my preference for drinking until unconsciousness and wild nights of hot, wet - "
"BRUCE!" Three shocked voices cut me off before I could finish. I looked at them confused.
"... bubble baths."
This part made me laugh so hard XD Funny chapter, full of action :3
Oh man, I've been waiting for Celestia to finally get involved.
And that human scene, can't help but wonder a tiny bit if this whole thing is a mental break in reaction to finding his wife dead.
So happy to see this, don't even care if it's unedited. Oculus plates are my new favorite headcannon! So weird and gross and PERFECT! And fake eyes! Details that are insignificant to the story but help flesh out the world, those are the things I LIVE for. Thank you for being such an awesome writer.
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS~!
The eye-plates make sense. If they had normal, spherical, oval oculars, their eyes would be smushed into their brains...
Yes! Not only an update, but story progression! Woot!
My yuhs, Good sir. All of my YUHS!
Fuck, eyeplates. That's downright creepy.
please don't leave out things such as the questions in the future, i thoroughly enjoyed them
You keep making me feel bad for Bruce every single chapter, more and more.
Anyway, no one else share the eye plates head-canon? That's how I always imagined it...
Whats so strange about eyeplates?
like having a ball of vitrous humor is any better?
Although now I'm wondering how they get the refraction necessary for vision.
i sense something bad happened when bruce was still a human....something really bad
Finally! Celestia might end up being a bitch to him but at least they will finally see him for what he is. Shove it in their faces!
As always i was close to laughing myself sick while reading this chapter, hope it won't take as long for the next to come out, it's getting really interesting now!
nice chapter
You got spelling mistakes at the end....
Like ancien instead of ancient, and echos instead of echoes.
If you can't take the magic, get out of the pastelcoloredkingdomofloveandroleranceruledbytheireternalmajestiesthediarchsofthislandandwhoareveryverybenignverybenignalways.
But, if you can't do that, you're Bruce.
Carry On
Eye plates....dear god i don't know if i can look at those ponies the same again
So, Celestia knows now....
Should we be happy for our dear Bruce? That salvation has finally come?
Or should we be worried for Bruce? I'm inclined towards worry if Celestia only sees Twilight and her friends as mere 'tools'. Are you going to be one of those authors that tries to make Celestia like an ancient evil tyrant that needs to be toppled? Oh god no please no. Seriously dude, say that it isn't so. I hope not or else you would have tagged this story as something like Dark or Sad right?
Woa?!?!? Definitely a plot twist!! I can't wait to read more.
1774619 How did you get this story 4 weeks before ago?
At last, Meadow is having faith.
Awaiting further releases.
this explains why the pinkie promise doesn't end in blindness I guess.
Might want to remove "evil dark abominations against God" people on this site really dislike stuff like that (Religious stuff)
Other than the whole "Turn into a pony" thing great story.
Well I no longer want to visit Equestria. Ponies would be creepy, and no internet.
Thank you.
I now have a large dumb grin on my face. With all honesty -- Thank You.
So Derpy's a spy... Did you read my story Chaotic Harmony by any chance
?
"Down with a Sickness"
Get up, come on get down with the sickness, madness is the gift that has been given to me.
I look forward to reading this momentarily.
Good thing The Black Goat's tale is not going public. Can you imagine how black goats'd respond?
Also Diphtheria. Don't they have vaccinations in Equestria?
...are they to conclude that the poor colt's never been vaccinated by his herd?
Of course, if they don't have vaccination or something similar, Bruce has just become a threat to ponies around him.
Id like to see Bruce when he meets Celestia and she believes his story. He is just going to turn around and go shout I TOLD YOU SO! to everyone who doubted him