• Published 9th Aug 2012
  • 1,070 Views, 9 Comments

More Than Thirty Minute Ponies - Exuno

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#382 - In Which Colours Clash

Some ponies said I was a fool, when I abandoned my studies at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns in order to pursue my passions as an artist.

Getting home from a long day at work counting more bits than I'd earn in a lifetime at the bank on 23nd street; and looking at my filthy, run-down Manehatten apartment, I was reminded that some ponies were right.

As I sighed and closed the door to my hovel, getting ready for another night of wallowing in self pity and, I don't know, eating too many hay fries, probably; I noticed a blinding burst of light come from my kitchen. Well, ‘room with a fridge in it’. Close enough.

“Hello? Is anypony around?” a deep and resounding voice called out.

Great. Someone was in my house. Getting robbed was exactly what I needed in my life.

Wait, wait; if they were trying to burgle the place, why would they even announce their presence? Something was up. I guess I had nothing to lose by playing along. "Yeah, sure. Come out here. Who are you?"

“Aha!” my houseguest shouted. A few seconds later, a bearded green stallion passed through the doorway, wearing, of all things, a wide brimmed wizard's hat. “Greetings, denizen of the present! As you may have guessed, I– Hold on, where am I?” His eyes seemed to go wide as he saw the state of my living room, darting from unfinished canvas of messy paint, to tattered couch, to discarded snack packages dotting the floor.

Not the first time someone's had that reaction.

With a sweep of the hoof, I explained. “Welcome to the humble abode of Primary Colours! Enjoy your stay.”

Then I remembered who I was speaking to.

“Actually, no. Get the hell out my house.”

“But this isn't right at all! I was supposed to...” The strange unicorn closed his eyes and started muttering to himself at this point. I took the opportunity to study him, and try and remember if I'd done something to catch the attention of the local nutty mage's guild or whatever. A earthen green coat, somewhat muscled, probably in his fifties. A cornflower blue beard, linked to his short-cropped mane; covered by that ridiculous hat. I couldn't see his cutie mark, it was covered by the obligatory matching robe. But when he opened his eyes, I noted the piercing red color of them.

Oh Celestia no.

Before I could recover from my discovery enough to verbalize it, he switched back to making announcements.

“Very well then! I will simply have to make due. As you may have gathered, I am you, Primary Colours, from the future. I have come back in time to prevent a grievous wrong committed by myself. Yourself. Whichever!”

“If it was dropping out of magic school, you missed by about five years.” Judging by him, I’m significantly less sure that was even the wrong option.

He sputtered. “You– You did what!? No, I was going to warn you not to throw out that deck of Official Prince Blueblood playing cards. There was a fire, and now a full set goes for like, four million bits.” I could see his eyes glaze over as he thought about the money.

I didn’t quite share the sentiment. “That’s it? You traveled through time to earn quick buck? ...and that was the best plan you could think of? Why didn’t you just bring some lottery numbers, then I could have the money now.”

He chortled at that. It was the only way it could be described. “Everypony knows the lotteries have careful scrutiny for chronological tampering. They have entire agencies dedicated to it!

“But no! There’s a far more serious issue ahoof! I was counting on you having a magical research laboratory that I could use to establish my route back home.” He looked around my apartment to ascertain there definitely wasn’t one. Pointing to the only closed door, he asked, “Maybe in there?”

“That’s the bathroom.” I paced about, mulling his words over. “So. You’re saying you’re stuck here.”

He frowned, intensely, and somehow pridefully. “That I am. I simply do not understand how this happened. Could my travels through time have truly changed the past so much?”

“You didn’t end up in the past, you dumb shit.”

Well, that was a new voice. Turning to the window, we saw a scrawny green colt climbing through the window off the fire escape.

“Oh, fantastic,” I replied. “What, are you me from the past, now?”

The kid just broke into the most haughty, condescending cackle at that point, only interrupted when he fell through the rest of the window and slammed into the floor. Served him right.

“Hah! No, what are you, some kind of an idiot? How would that make any sense?’ Puffing up and closing his eyes, he introduced himself. “I’m your clone.”

It took all of my effort to prevent my head from forcefully impacting with the nearest solid object. “What.”

The alleged future-me, on the other hand, looked impressed. “Wondrous! Tell me, miracle child, what did you mean by saying I was not in the past?”

The colt rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue. “Well, besides the obvious point that you’re in the present, it’s pretty fucking simple that you’re actually in an alternate dimension. I mean, did you remember yourself popping up out of nowhere to give grim prophecies when you were his age? What the shit did you think was going to happen?”

“I see. A valid interpretation. You are wise beyond your years, youn–”

“Shut up.” I turned to the kid. “Where did you come from? Why are you here?”

He seemed content just soaking in the atmosphere of my living room. “Nice place you’ve got here. Me? I’m just a kid, running away from home, looking for his long lost dad.” He looked up at me, giving the most insincere puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen.

“I’m not your dad! Why am I your dad?!”

“Well, obviously neither of my moms is my dad, so it has to be you.”

My elder self harumphed at this. “Two mares? Why, in my day–”

“You’re from the future – this is your day!” I took a deep breath. “Nevermind. There’s more important issues here. You know that’s not what I meant. Why did somepony make a clone of me?”

“Oh. I guess mom kind of had a crush on you for a bit back in school? But then she made me, and I’m more like a son than anything so that would be really fucking creepy, especially since I’m still only like ten years old. But it turns out she’s a lesbian anyway so it all worked out!” He grinned.

My mouth just hung open. “So, what, are you also named after me? Because I don’t think this could get any worse.”

The kid’s face lit up and he started to giggle. “No, y’see. Mom’s a fucking super-genius, so of course she gave me the greatest name of all.” The look in his eyes said all that needed to be said about his level of sarcasm. I braced myself.

“You’re looking at the one and only Secondary Colours.”


The magus quietly walked over to him, and gently placed a hoof on his head. “You have my deepest sympathies, fair child.”

Author's Note:

The prompt, of course, was "3 Primary Colours". It's not like there was another way to interpret that, right?
Anyway, yeah, that is a more than 300 day gap there! Which has given me a bit of perspective. Seriously, what was up with all the self-depreciation I was doing back there? To the Dear, Late Applejack is really good. The only problem with my writing is that I never do it.
This one didn't get posted on the blog, either. It took about two hours (which was also some fifteen minutes past the submission deadline) to get this point, and I don't even think it's an actual ending. It was the last joke I had, though, so close enough! Well, I guess there's the "Learning to Live With Yourself" pun, but that would be the title of the sitcom-esque spin-off fic (Don't expect me to write that).
Zero points for guessing who Secondary's parents are.

Comments ( 2 )

See, I probably would have tried to do something with cyan-yellow-magenta. :trixieshiftleft::trixieshiftright:

Oh god, the puns. I gotta admit, I love how you interpret the prompts.

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