Eternal Sunshine of the Spikeless Mind

by UtterlyLudicrous

Chapter 8: Let's Begin

"Ah, Spike, good to see you. I trust you've brought with you everything you need?"

Spike looked at Dr. Whoovezwiak with a pensive expression. After a few seconds, he shook himself out of his daze and gestured towards the trash bags in either claw. "Yeah, let's get started."

"Very good. Before we begin, a little tour."

Spike followed Dr. Whoovezwiak through the narrow hallway, sidestepping to avoid the shelves scattered along the edges, lined with books on memory for every species and various unfiled documents wedged in between.

Without looking back, the doctor said, "Through each of these doors coming up are our mapping rooms. We read responses from our patients to better understand how to erase their memories."

"Through here are our interview rooms, where I or one of our technicians interview patients on tape for our own personal records." Spike looked around. Was this it? Aside from its trade, Laluna really didn't seem that different from a normal doctor's office.

The doctor stopped at the last doorway on the left; placed in the center was a sign reading simply,

"Lab"

The door opened with a slight creak that suggested age, and Spike was greeted by a peculiar sight. There was an old, pale yellow female earth pony, about 70 years old and wrinkled with age, sitting in an examination chair staring at a TV set and listening to an old ragtime song on a vintage record player. Off to the side was another unicorn, pale orange, sporting black-rimmed glasses and a white lab-coat over a tousled-looking mane, his eyes closed in concentration and his horn glowing an eerie, pale yellow hue, the same color as his elderly patient. To his right, a computer screen showed a constantly-updated x-ray of the patient's brain, colored with a network of pale yellow lines showing connections between neurons. As the door opened, the unicorn opened his eyes and blinked a few times at Spike and Dr. Whoovezwiak. His horn flickered for a split second, and the patient cringed before his horn resumed glowing.

"This is Stan Inkley, one of our most experienced technicians. He'll be handling your case tonight."

Spike raised one of his full claws as a greeting gesture. Stan nodded, smiled warmly and turned back to his patient to continue the procedure.

"And don't be alarmed by the equipment you see. All you'll have to do is give us responses."

Spike didn't know what to say. It was such a fascinating sight, and such a disconcerting sight. His head rubbernecked for a few seconds as he turned to follow Dr. Whoovezwiak into the next room, labeled

"Questioning".

---

"My name is Spike Barish, and.. I am here to erase Rainbow Dash."

"Very good. Now, tell me about Miss Dash."

Spike was sitting in front of Dr. Whoovezwiak, a battered tape recorder between the two of them placed in the center of the desk. The room was pretty blank; a glass window with the blinds up gave a second-story view of Ponyville from above, while the rest of the walls were made of cedar wood, or at least painted like so. The only decor in the room, aside from the doctor's files and a few bookshelves, was a small box of tissues on Spike's side of the desk.

"I was seeing this unicorn.. Rarity.. A couple of years ago, and my friends Twilight and Masquerade invited me to this party in Cloudsdale -- I never liked parties. Rarity insisted she couldn't go, but I went anyway... and I met Rainbow."

Spike heard an assistant drop something outside. He poked his head in and apologized for the noise before leaving again.

---

"Let's start with your most recent memories, and move backwards from there," the doctor said with something of a confident tone. He continued speaking as he wrapped a blood pressure monitor around Spike's arm.

"There's an.. emotional core.. to each of our memories.. And when you... When you..." Dr. Whoovezwiak paused for a moment to listen to the monitor for a pulse. "If you'll excuse me," the doctor said, and jotted something down on his clipboard. "Scales," he said simply, and put away the blood-pressure monitor to take out a stethoscope. "If memory serves, you are our only dragon to date." If memory serves, Spike thought. What memory ever serves in a place like this?

"Now, there's an emotional core to each of our memories, and when you eradicate that core, the memory fades away on its own, so by the time you wake up in the morning, all of your memories of Miss Dash will have faded and withered, like a dream upon waking."

"Is there any risk of brain damage?"

The doctor paused. "Well.. technically the procedure is brain damage. But I wouldn't worry too much; it's on a par with a long night at the office. Nothing you'll miss."

---

A few moments later, Spike found himself in the same operating room as the pale yellow pony before him. The record player had been moved, and the dusty record sat in the corner, along with the old television set, a couple of VHS tapes tossed on top. Spike was sitting in the operating chair, a metal tray in front of him, being raised up to a peculiar-looking helmet. Spike felt the chair stop abruptly, and Stan & the doctor both looked above him with pensive expressions.

"Can you still do it?"

"Umm.. I could probably map it raw. The head cover is just extra insulation, mostly."

"Mr. Barish, now don't be alarmed. Due to your.. species specifications, Mr. Inkley will be mapping your brain without the use of our head cover. The procedure will still go on as scheduled, but you might feel a slightly more agitated headache tomorrow morning than you might otherwise have. Is that alright?"

Spike thought for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure what the helmet was even for, but he figured that if the doctor said it was safe, he could trust him. After all the pain Rainbow caused him, he would go through all the pain in the world to have her erased from his life.

"..Okay. Go ahead."

Stan turned the head cover away and began to rummage through Spike's trash bags. As he pulled an object out and looked it over, he said, "Now, what we're doing here, Mr. Barish, is actually creating a map of your brain that we can use to more easily access your memories of Rainbow Dash. Now as I place each object on the table I'd like you to react to them." As he finished his sentence, he placed the object, a poorly-made apple figurine on the tray. He closed his eyes, deep in concentration, as his horn began to glow a lovely-looking purple and green gradient hue.

"There's actually a pretty funny story to this one..." Before Spike could finish, Stan's horn stopped glowing and he cut him off: "You know, actually, Mr. Barish, I would get a much better reading if you didn't speak your reactions; mental reactions are what we're looking for." Spike did as he was told and didn't say anything as Stan and the doctor crowded around the computer monitor with Spike's brain etched into it, with green dots connected by purple lines jumping up all over the screen. "Very healthy activity around there, I see," the doctor said, very plainly. "Here's another object," Stan said as he placed a pair of ice skates on the tray. Time began to move faster as Spike's breathing slowly became more erratic.

Ice skates.Our venture into cracking the ice on Winter Wrap Up Day. "I'm getting activity towards the right side of the frontal lobe."

A Daring Do plush toy. Our trip to Disneighland, when Dash talked me into buying a Daring Do plushie after we went on the ride. "More activity near the hippocampus, centered around nostalgia."

An apple figurine of the two of us together. Man, I was always terrible with tails. "I've got action in the amygdala."

A purple-green gradient aura slowly made its way over Spike's eyes like a veil, blurring everything but the items on the table. Spike's eyes darted from left to right, and his heart rate increased as everything became more and more blurry and a sound comparable to TV static began to pervade his thoughts, getting louder and louder as more grainy voices invaded his mind.

"Mental reactions are what we're looking for."
"I've got action in the amygdala."
"More activity near the hippocampus, centered around nostalgia."
"Hmm.. Apple Daring-Do. That's interesting."
"Hey, Patrick, do me a favor. Would you mind taking these items to storage..."

Spike saw the figure of a unicorn moving like a lost puppy dog, and then everything went black.

Comments

[KARLOS1234IFY]

Poor Spike. At least it will be all over soon.

[The Red Omega]

No this cant happen, nooo!

[Vexy]

Gah, I've already hit the end?

A shame, I haven't even seen the original movie, but this is a nice fic. Interesting main character choices, although I'm not complaining (I really can't resist a SpikeDash...)

[Zecoro]

shame this will never be finished. no read or like from me. :P

[spike the mustache]

Tis a shame This is a dead story