• Published 12th Oct 2018
  • 1,066 Views, 9 Comments

George Trestale, Accidental Bad Guy - DrOcsid

Exiled from his own kingdom, a man has a rather hard time making his way through Equestria - especially when his own defective magic keeps screwing everything up for him.

  • ...

A New Day


I shot up off the pillow, instantly awake. "Holy crap! What is that noise?!"

I looked around the room for a moment before my vision finally came to rest on none other than my brand new alarm clock.

Oh. Right. Forgot I bought that.

The typical worn-out feelings of having just woken up finally caught up to me, and I rubbed my eyes momentarily before looking back at the annoyingly loud machine on my nightstand. I wasn't yet used to having one of those things, which made using it an agitating experience, to say the least. I seriously couldn't imagine how people could stand being awoken by that horrific noise every morning.

The clock's reign of terror was summarily vanquished at the hands of my fist—or, well, I guess that'd be one hand—, which I'd tiredly slammed down on top of it, silencing my alarm clock and also, possibly, giving it a concussion. As I came to terms with no longer having the luxury of being asleep, I dragged myself out of bed. Evidently, though, I'd caught my foot in the blankets or something, because in a matter of seconds I'd found myself falling straight towards the floor.

I let out a pained "OOF!" as my face became one with the carpet. Ugh. World's greatest scientist here, everyone. I pulled myself back up onto my feet, snatched my glasses off the nightstand, and opened the curtains. Immediately, my vision was flooded with the blinding light of the Equestrian sun. Extra emphasis on the "blinding".

"Agh! Damn it!" I turned away from the window, cursing myself for not letting my eyes properly adjust. Once my vision had finally gone back to normal, I put my glasses on and began my typical morning routine—one that I’ll spare you the details of.

By the time I’d made it downstairs, however, my mood had completely changed. You know, there’s something really reinvigorating about being freshly-showered, having newly-brushed teeth, and wearing a set of clean clothes. I'd adorned my typical work attire for the day, that being a pair of jeans, a white polo shirt, a black tie, and, to top it all off, a lab coat, to really drive home the whole "I am a scientist" concept.

And as if there weren't enough upsides to my morning as it was, I'd also taken the time to make myself a nice, steaming hot cup of black coffee. That’s always a plus. And by this point, I’d figured that, given that it was morning, logically, I should take the time to eat a nice breakfast. However, just as I'd opened the fridge with the intention of staring at it for ten minutes and not finding anything I want, I heard a knock at my door.

“Oh, shoot. One minute!” I shouted at the door. I shut the fridge, grabbed my coffee, and downed the last of what was left in the mug. However, as I had now remembered just a little too late, I hadn’t actually given my coffee a lot of time to cool. “AGH!” I somehow managed to shout through the searing pain in my mouth. Reflexively swallowing the hot coffee (which only made the problem worse), I fumbled with the mug, inadvertently spilling it all over my clean suit, shirt and tie, and letting the mug fall to the floor and shatter.

I stood there for a good few seconds, processing what had just happened. Sometimes I wonder how I'm even allowed to live by myself. I stepped over the remnants of the mug and ran to the door. Determining there was no way I could reasonably hide the coffee stain on my plain white shirt, I ended up just opening the door regardless in hopes that whoever was there wouldn’t notice it.

“Hey, Georg— Oh, man! What happened to your clothes?”

The disappointingly perceptive man I’d found standing in front of me was none other than Jack Anthers, my longtime friend and “lab assistant”. I put that term in quotes because, despite that being his job title, his actual helpfulness was debatable, to say the least—mainly due to him only having started working under me a month prior. That’s not to say I didn’t appreciate him being around, he was a great guy and all, but he was more akin to a trainee than anything. I, of course, being the trainer in question.

“Oh, my—My clothes?” I looked down at my significantly browned apparel. “This is, uh, a new style they came out with recently. They make the clothes look like they got coffee spilled on them.”

“Really? Sure looks like you just spilled coffee all over yourself. It’s even dripping off your tie.”

“Yeah, it’s impressive how realistic they make it,” I said, squeezing some coffee out of said tie. “So, uh, what was it you said you came here for? Or did you not mention that part yet?”

“Oh, right! The King sent me to come get you early today. He said there was something he needed to talk to you about. Seemed really urgent, too.”

Early? That was new. Calling me in early wasn’t something he typically ever did. What could that possibly be for? “He wants me to come in early? Like, as in right now?”


“Oh, well, that's just delightful," I said, wringing out my tie some more. "Brilliant timing. Why doesn't he just come down here and shoot me, while he's at it?”

"That's... a little excessive, don't you think?" asked Jack, who had adopted a clear look of concern on his face. "Are you doing okay? I'm surprised you're actually ready for work this early."

"Yeah, the King finally made me get an alarm clock after I came in late one too many times. I kinda hate the thing."

“Really? I can't imagine not having one. I always have plenty of time to eat breakfast in the morning 'cause of it.”

"Yeah, well, apparently I don't get that luxury," I said. "I haven't eaten breakfast yet, and now I've gotta come into work early. Best of both worlds."

"Why not just eat breakfast at work?"

“Because I seem to be the only one there who can competently make microwave pancakes. Also, their microwave’s broken.”

“Well, you better hurry up and go grab something! You can eat it on the way there.”

“Oh, fine.

Before too long, Jack and I were making our way down the bright, busy, bustling streets of Humantown. And before you get on me for that name, it wasn't my fault. Our King's entire bloodline has had this thing for being terrible with naming stuff. It was pretty much ingrained into our culture by this point.

This particular town was the capital of the sizable nation of Euria, home to myself along with millions of other people. Kinda small compared to the neighboring Equestria, but, hell, we did pretty good for ourselves. The two of us were headed straight for my place of work—that being the castle. Generic way to refer to it, I know, but the King didn’t even bother trying to name it, so that’s just what we called it. It was the only castle around, after all.

“What does Tetesac want me to come in early for, anyway?” I asked. Tetesac, as you may be able to guess, was the name of this King we've been mentioning so much. Now that you know his name, maybe the word "King" won't keep getting so repetitive.

Now, I wasn’t usually one to question whatever Tetesac wanted me to do, given that he was about as bad-natured as a litter of Labrador puppies, but I was a little irritated that all I'd ended up being able to eat for breakfast was a couple lightly salted rice cakes. That, and I was starting to get a little worried about exactly what it was he needed me in early for.

“He said it was about one of your projects he hasn’t been told about.”

I nearly choked on my rice cake at the sound of that. "I-Is that right?"

"Yeah, some kinda box-shaped thing. He's just curious what it is, I think."

It was very much true that I was working on something more or less behind Tetesac's back, which didn't bode too well, given that, generally, you don't want people to find out you've been hiding things from them. Especially when that person is not only your boss, but the sole ruler of your place of residence.

“So what? He knows I’ve got tons of those. Took him a good few months to find out I was using my spare time to research the effect of peanut butter on his dog.” I eyed a certain bar the two of us frequented as we passed by. “Hey, maybe I should get a drink to prepare for whatever this is.”

“What? It’s eight in the morning! Besides, we can’t afford to make his majesty wait.”

’His majesty?’ Did you seriously just say that?”

“It’s the proper nomenclature!”

“The what, now? Dude, you know he doesn’t mind being called by his actual name.”

“I know, I know, it just... feels wrong.”

I noticed an unfamiliar passerby waving at me, and I waved back in typical offhand fashion before turning back to Jack. “You’ve been paying too much attention to those ponies, man. They should make up some kind of term for people like you.”

"What, people who're interested in Equestrian culture?"

"Yeah, that. What does make you so interested in Friendship-Sunshine-Happiness-Land, anyway?"

"Well, they're a culture completely different from ours."

"Yeah, and?"

"Well, it's the little differences. Like, for example, their speaking habits. Sure, we speak the same language, but they change little things about it. Instead of 'everybody', it's 'everypony'. Instead of 'Dear God', it's 'Dear Celestia'."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I said, waving my hand in the air. "Different cultures are fascinating and all; I guess it's not all that crazy. I've got my interests in them too."

"Like what?"

I stopped walking and pointed upwards, directly at the sun. "You see that?"

He looked up, squinting. It took him a second to realize what I was talking about. "The sun?"

"Right. Every day, their Princess raises that thing into the sky, so they say. You know what allows that to happen?"


"Exactly," I said, resuming my walking. "That's what interests me. Anything that's powerful enough to lift the sun into the sky, well, that's a hell of a thing to consider. Imagine the sheer number of possibilities this whole magic business could open up for us."

Jack took a moment to respond, seemingly unsure of what I was saying. "I don't know, things have gone pretty well so far without it. You know what they say. Don't fix what's not broken."

I feigned a gag. "Ugh, I hate that saying. Ever-used by countless people who seem to think there's never any room for improvement. Sure, a C is a passing grade in school, but no one ever told you not to shoot higher, did they?"

"Weren't you always the one doing just the bare minimum to get your degree?"

"That's not the point! It's just... the possibilities, man! It seriously keeps me up at night sometimes."

Before long, we reached the front of the castle. The steps leading up to it were positioned with a few guards at its sides, who merely quietly acknowledged me as I walked by. That was a pretty neat perk of working in the castle. No one questioned me entering. Though, that wasn't all that impressive once I found out it wasn't actually closed off to the public.

Once we reached the top of the stairs, we found ourselves met with none other than Tetesac himself, chatting with a guard and apparently waiting for the two of us. Upon catching eye of us, he turned away from the guard for the sake of making a greeting.

“Ah, Jack! George! How are you two doing?”

Jack, of course, made sure he was the first to respond. “I’m doing great, thanks! You didn’t have to wait out here for us, you know.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I needed some fresh air anyway. Though, perhaps that was a bad idea, being that I seem to have agitated my allergies.” As if on cue, Tetesac let out a sneeze, thankfully having the courtesy to do so into his arm rather than all over us. After recovering, he turned to me. “And as for you, George?”

“Wh—Huh?” Truth be told, I had kinda zoned out listening to the two. “Oh, yeah, I’m good. Hungry, though. Didn’t get much of a breakfast.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry about that. There was just something I wanted to speak with you about. Shall we go in?”

“Yeah, alright.”

The two of us entered the castle’s front doors, which led directly into the rather spacious halls of the place. The floor was adorned with a gorgeous cardinal red carpet from wall to wall, while various banners of a similar color hung from said walls. Somehow, despite regularly entering this place at least five days a week, I still got at least a little impressed with it every time. It was just so big.

The three of us made our way downstairs, to the underground halls of the castle. These halls were significantly less impressive, instead being comparable in size to what you’d find in the average high school. A complete lack of carpet or banners, too. Instead, down here we were stuck with a linoleum floor and white-painted undecorated walls. It looked more modern, sure, but at the same time, way more boring.

We eventually made it to the door to my lab, which, to my surprise, was apparently already unlocked, as Tetesac simply opened the door instead of waiting for me to get my keys like usual. As we headed in, Tetesac flipped a light switch on the wall, illuminating the lab I was oh-so-familiar with. As usual, the place was in pretty good condition, with the counters along the walls holding various things relating to the numerous projects I’d been working on at the time.

One counter, for instance, held a few food-related experiments, such a prototype for a bread that could never grow mold. It technically worked, but the stuff was so dry and bland that no one was actually willing to eat it. I eventually just decided to use the loaf as a doorstop. The rest of the counters were much less organized, holding a variety of different items of varying actual usefulness. This included:

  • A toaster that can only toast one side of a slice of bread (It was my first ever invention, don’t judge me.)
  • A partially-functioning teleporter (That’s more impressive, now isn’t it? Essentially, it functions by not working at all and thus causing you to manually move the object yourself.)
  • My broken microwave.

Overall, my own usefulness as a royal scientist was rather sporadic. It’s not to say that I was bad at my job—why would I ever admit to that?—but, rather, outside of the assignments Tetesac gave me, there wasn’t a whole ton of stuff for me to do. Sometimes it felt like no one ever figured out what a job titled “royal scientist” actually entailed, so it pretty much amounted to me just doing what the King said most of the time and worrying about my own projects the rest. But, to my credit, I did invent a new material for doorstops. That’s gotta be worth something.

“So,” I said, breaking the extended silence, “What’d I miss breakfast for, then?”

I was a little worried about how he might answer, and his response only confirmed my fears. “Ah, yes, I was just wondering about this little doohickey right over here.” Tetesac walked over to cube-shaped object in the corner, covered with a black trash bag, He pulled it off, revealing what was underneath to be, unsurprisingly, a box-shaped object.

It was mostly a sort of dark gray in color, the front panel adorned with a screen on the right end, some buttons to the sides of it, and on the left, what appeared to be a small, empty transparent container, no bigger than the average one-liter soda bottle, embedded into its own compartment. The top panel, on the other hand, had what seemed to be a round hatch in the center, with no clear way to open it in sight. The whole thing wasn’t particularly huge in size, only measuring roughly three by three feet on each side.

“Ooh, what’s that?” Jack asked. I couldn’t blame him for not knowing what it was, since I’d only worked on it while I was alone. Though I don’t know how he never noticed it before.

Tetesac simply looked to me for an answer, and Jack’s gaze quickly followed suit.

Shoot. I can’t tell them what this is. It’s not ready yet. “W—Well,” I said, trying to come up with some sort of answer, “That’s a good question. And the answer to it is, uh...”

“Come on, tell us!” said Jack.

“...It’s a coffee machine.”

With that, the room remained silent for a good five to ten seconds. It wasn’t until Tetesac finally let out a short laugh that instantly broke the tension. “Oh, is that all? From how you were building it up, I thought it would’ve been something far more, well...”

“Cool?” Jack said, finishing his sentence for him. He looked much more visibly disappointed. It seemed like he genuinely thought he was gonna find out about something life-changingly significant.

“Yes, that.”

“Well,” I said, laughing a bit myself, “You guys know how much I like coffee. And, let me tell you, once this thing’s finished, you’re gonna be drinking the best god damn coffee you’ve ever tasted.”

“Oh, is that so?” said Tetesac, chuckling to himself. “Well, you’re certainly setting yourself up to a high standard, aren’t you? We’ll hold you to it. Right, Jack?”

“I don’t really like coffee, but sure.”

“Does it function in any capacity yet?” said Tetesac, crouching down and eyeing the screen.

“Not yet,” I said, walking up to him. “I tried to test it out recently, but the stupid thing ended up getting coffee grounds all in its, like, inner workings and stuff. It’d probably explode or something if I turned it on now.”

“Ah, I see. That’s a shame.” He stood up and turned back towards me. “Well, as much as I would love to stay and chat some more, I must get back to my kingly duties and such. Not to mention, it’s almost time for Ida’s breakfast.” As he walked over to the door, he stopped for a moment. “By the way, sorry about calling you in early, George, I was just so curious about what this was.”

“Yeah, that’s alright. It’s just a little side project. How’d you find out about it, anyway?”

To my surprise, Tetesac’s jovial expression quickly faded after I asked that question. “Oh, right. I simply thought I'd left something of mine in your lab yesterday. I saw it when I came in.”

I didn’t bother questioning his sudden change of demeanor. “Ah, yeah, that makes sense. Well, now you know. Maybe one day you can come in and accidentally notice some of my other projects I’ve been itching to talk about.”

With that comment, Tetesac’s typical jovial demeanor returned. “Heh, perhaps I will. Well, I’ll leave you two to it.” And with that, he headed out the door.

“Well, alright then,” said Jack, cracking his knuckles for some reason. “What are we going to work on today?”

“Good question,” I said. After thinking for a moment, I went over to the door, shut it, and locked it.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked. I didn’t bother responding, instead walking over to the box-shaped machine I’d just been interrogated about. I crouched down, lifted it, reached under it, and flipped a switch. With that, the screen came to life, listing a series of options that corresponded to the buttons on the sides of it.

“Wh—Huh?” Jack made some kind of expression of confusion as he walked up behind me. “I thought you said that thing didn’t work!”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure, yeah.”

"No, like, really, an actual secret. One of those 'don't tell a soul' type deals. Blood pact-level severity, here."

"Yes, I can keep a secret! Just tell me!"

I slapped my arm down on top of the box. “This, my acquaintance, is not a coffee machine.”