> Good Griff! > by Von Snootingham > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Ch 01: Five Score, Divided by Four > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 1 – Interesting Times Chapter 1 – Five Score, Divided by Four (In Which We Meet Our Charming Protagonists)         Hey. I’m Gayle. It’s nice to meet me, I know, but hold your applause until you know me better. I’m Abigayle Theresa Griffin, as my parents liked to scream when I was up to no good. I was named after my grandmother, though it sounds a little too snooty if you ask me. But that’s parents for ya. I love ‘em (I mean, you have to love your parents, right?), but they’re too far up their own asses most of the time. I’m going to say the words “chief of medicine”. That stereotypical doctor you just pictured? That’s my dad, complete with martini and golf club. Now imagine an older, less fit Venus Williams in a pantsuit. That’s my mother. Moms is some sort of money… stock… thing. A broker? She tried explaining it to me a few times, but fuck if I understand what she does. They have a place here in the city, but they spend most of their time at their house out in Montauk. It works for me because they’re best in small doses. No brothers or sisters either. My Moms said having me was “like laying a giant egg” and “never again.” Pfft, moms.         You might say fitness is my life. I’m a wildly successful personal trainer at a gym here in the city. And I run. The faster the better. Ain’t no runner alive better than me. I’m pretty sure I could crush a man’s skull between my thighs. And I do it everywhere, all the time. Not crushing heads, though that would be pretty ballin’. The running, I mean. Who needs a car in New York anyway? I get up early, run a dozen or two miles around the neighborhood, then run to work where I get to yell at fat rich people and force them to exercise, and THEY PAY ME to do it. What’s not to love?         You want to know more? Well, I’ve got that tall, dark, and sexy thing going on that makes the guys fall all over themselves to try getting into my pants. And why not? I’m so smoking hot, I’d fuck myself if I could. They’re welcome to try, but I’m WAY too hot for any man, as my girlfriend will tell you. Yeah, I’m gay, so what? You want to make something of it, I’ll try that skull crushing thing for real. So yeah, I’m a tough, sexy lesbian with rich parents and everything going for me. I’ll excuse you if you think my name is Mary Sue. But it’s not. Like I said, I’m Gayle, and I’m the baddest cat you will ever know. NOW you may applaud.         My roommate, on the other hand, is the opposite. His name’s Steve and he’s, like, the anti-Gayle. He’s lazy, unmotivated, and doesn’t seem like he cares about anything. His real name is Larry, but he said that makes him sound “like a fat sixty-year-old man with no hair and grease stains all over his wifebeater.” I said it makes him sound like a stooge. So he goes by his middle name: Larry Steven Boone.         He says he’s a librarian, but I’m not sure he actually does anything.  I mean that literally. There are some days I’m not sure he’s even still technically alive. On days he’s not “at work”, I’ll go out and come back and he hasn’t moved. He just lays around sleeping and reading. I do occasionally see him writing stuff in this dumb little notebook he won’t ever let me see. He says it’s ideas for stories. I asked him why he doesn’t write something. He just told me, “Eh. It’s too much trouble.” So yeah, that’s him: completely uncool.         Now, you might be wondering why two people so completely opposite live together. Well it’s simple. He posted an ad for a roommate. I needed an apartment. That’s it. I answered his ad and we’ve been getting on like a house on fire ever since. That is to say, not well. I didn’t come up with that. Steve did. But it’s not so bad. Even though I’m so awesome and he’s so… him, we’re still friends. It’s unlikely, I know. For the first few weeks, we pretty much didn’t talk to each other. To tell the truth, I thought he might be some kind of disabled shut-in or something. But then one day I caught him watching the best show ever and we weirdly bonded over it.         I’m, of course, referring to the awesomest, most asskickingest show ever made, Portal. What? You thought I was going to say something stupid, like that Pony show? Steve may like it, but I’m not a tiny little girl like him. No, Portal is the way to go. He says he likes it for the “dimension hopping, reality-bending sci-fi goodness”. I like the fightin’ and the shootin’. Anyway, one day I saw him watching it and I was all, “Dude! You like Portal?” And Steve was like, “Of course. YOU like Portal?” And I said, “Fuck. The hell. YES!” We watched it together and we’ve been weird friends ever since. I give him shit. He gives me shit. It’s all good. Who’s to say what a weird friendship is? None of my other friends are- Wait. Come to think of it, I guess other than Steve and my girlfriend, I don’t really have any other friends. Huh. Guess I’m just too cool for most people. Oh, there’s another weird thing we found out we have in common: we were born just a day apart. I’m the older one, naturally. Which brings me to today. It’s my twenty fifth birthday! I can now legally rent a car. Go me! I just hope nothing bizarre happens that makes me have to actually rent one and take it on a crazy road trip with a bunch of weirdos. Ha, like that could happen. It’s been a pretty normal day considering the date. I went for my morning run. I went to work and embarrassed the hell out of the whitest, snootiest man on Earth. He’s my client, so it’s okay. Personally, I think he’s into that. I think he ought to get himself a dominatrix, but I’m not going to say anything because I like his money. I went home and watched the game. I did have some weird dreams this morning though, but I can’t quite remember them. And now here I am in front of my favorite pub. Come on, did you think I was going to spend my birthday night NOT getting hammered? I walk inside and spot the people I’m looking for at a booth in the corner. First, is the human potato. I mean Steve. Next, is his friend Amanda. I don’t really know her that well. They work together at the library or something. She’s alright I guess, but she’s basically just a more female version of him. A while back, I asked him if she was his girlfriend, but he just said he “doesn’t go in for that sort of thing.” I don’t know if he meant girls or what. That’s his business and I really don’t want to picture him getting with a woman. Fuck! Now I’m doing it. And then… Oh and then, there’s Ellen. We met in a marathon. We wound next to each other at about mile nine and we just hit it off. I even slowed down so she could keep up. I’m a saint, right? We chatted as we ran and we finished together. Well, I chatted most of the time. She needed to save her breath for about half the race. She’s pretty quiet and quite pretty. Ha, I thought up that one. She’s the more sensible one of us. She’s there to clip my wings when I start to get too… well… me. And she’s got that blonde girl next door look that makes me just want to jump her bones right now. No, stop it, girl. You have to wait until later to unwrap your present. I march over to them and announce myself. “Attention, mortals! Your goddess has arrived! You may now start the party in my honor!” Steve shouts, “Norrrrm!” as I slide into the booth next to Ellen and slip my arm around her. “Hey, sweetie. You’re late. Happy bi-“ she starts. She wrinkles her nose. “You had to run here? You stink, Gayle.” “Hey, you know me. Poundin’ the pavement, all day, er’ry day. Besides, it’s not like I have a car.” Steve cuts in, “You know, they have this wonderful new invention called the ‘cab’. You should look into it.” Amanda giggles at his joke. “Man, fuck that noise,” I laugh. “What, am I going to PAY someone to bring me here when I can get here by myself just fine? It was only twenty blocks.” “It’s your birthday,” responds Ellen. “I think we can pay for you to take a cab just this once.” “Hey,” says Steve, “If you’re in such a giving mood, you can pay for my drinks. It’s mah birfday too, you know.” “Yeah. Tomorrow. But nice try, smart guy,” I shoot him down. “Close enough,” he says. “Tonight is to celebrate the big two-five for the both us.” “Pfft. No way. It’s all about me. Just like every other day. I thought you knew that by now.” “It’s okay, Steve,” squeaks Amanda. “I’ll pay for you.” She must have a thing for him. I just don’t think he realizes it. He must be gay or something. “Well then, I need my alco-mo-hol. WAITER!” I scream. The night goes on like this for a while. I’m awesome, and the booze just makes me awesome. Ellen’s awesome, but she keeps me grounded. She stops me from challenging some biker-looking guy to an arm wrestle. Steve sits and talks about whatever it is he talks about. Internet stuff and books and TV and shit. As the night goes on he gets louder with his opinions on his… whatever. “Dude! I’m telling ya. Season five was absolute shit of the highest caliber! ’S like, they were purposely trollin’ us.” God he’s noisy. Amanda is hanging on his every word. “I know! The finale was the worst. It just ends with Twilight getting zapped and then it’s over.” “What’re you talkin’ about? It ended with ‘im attackin’ Manehattan and just zappin’ victims at random as they flee.” I turn to Ellen. “What in fuck are they talking about?” “Oh, it’s My Little Pony again. Just ignore it.” I turn back to Steve. “Hey pony lover, keep it down. Some of us here aren’t five year old girls.” “Hey, fuck you, hater. Ponies’re… MLP is fuggin’ great!” “Ponyman, you’re drunk. Why don’t you call it a night? For such a fatty, you really are a lightweight.” I jab. “I’m not drunk! You’re drunk! You gotta be if you hate one of tha best shows ever.” Amanda’s looking slightly mortified and Ellen just looks on in amusement. “Man, why do you even care about this thing so much?” I ask him. “I mean you love Portal, but you’re not this passionate about even that. You don’t care about anything this much.” He looks confused. “I dunno. Like, if you told me a meteor was comin’ down here righ’ now, and all I hadda do to save ma life was move ten feet to tha right in tha nex’ ten minutes and I’d be fine, I’d be like, ‘Ehhh. I’m comfr’ble here.’” Ellen gives him a look like she just saw a puppy get hit by a car. “You don’t care if you die? You’d die just because you don’t feel like getting up?” “Yeah! I just dun give a shit! ‘Cept fer the ponies. I dun know why, I jus’ do.” Aw man, now I feel bad for the kid. Time to work the old Gayle charm. “Well, that’s cool I guess, man. I don’t get it, but as long as you’ve got something you-“ ☄~=-@-=~☆~=-@-=~★~=-@-=~☆~=-@-=~☾ Holy fuck. What’s going on? I’m somewhere. I can’t see. It’s dark, but it’s bright. I only see shapes. And flashes. The ground is white. It’s far away. “He’s coming back!” What? Who said that? Everything is blurry. I see white beneath me and around me. There are colorful blobs moving everywhere. “Retreat!” “Never! We can take him!”  Was that me? Did I just say that? There are flashes above me, now around me. Am I moving? I feel the wind. It’s so fast. There’s another flash. It hurts. Why does it hurt? Something brown and grey is in front of me. SHITSHITSHIT! “Did you really think you could beat me?” Who is talking? Are they talking to me? “All by yourself? Look around. Your compatriots have all fled. Poooor little bird. You’re allllll alone. And you will be for a long time, in a pretty little cage.” There’s another flash and I see a glow all around me. SHITSHIT! “Five score, divided by four-“ ☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁ “SHIT!” “Whoa, Gayle. Are you alright, sweetie?” Ellen asks from my left.  I’m in the pub. “What just happened?!” I demand. “Calm down, Gayle. Everything’s okay.” “Ha!” barks Steve. “An’ you call me a lightweight! Least I didn’t space out for five minutes.” “What?” I check my watch. 10:47. I don’t know why I bothered, I didn’t know what time it was before I zoned.         “He’s right,” Amanda adds. “You stopped talking in the middle of a sentence and were just kind of staring off into space for a few minutes.”         I was?         “You were,” Ellen says. Did I ask out loud? Sometimes I think that girl can real my mind. “Maybe you were right and we should ALL call it a night.         “I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m drunk, especially since it’s still so early.” I say, hesitant. A rare mood for me. This whole thing has me shaken up. “Maybe you’re right.”         “Of course I am. Now, are you okay to drive?” Ellen asks.         “Baby, we’ve been over this. I don’t have a car.”         “Yes, I know,” she explains patiently. I swear she sounds like she’s a kindergarten teacher sometimes. “But Steve does, and he clearly cannot drive himself. Steve, give Gayle your keys.”         “NO!”         “Come on, lazy bones. Fork ‘em over,” I thrust my hand at him.         “NUUUU!”         “Steve,” Amanda practically coos at him, “Could I pretty please see your keys for just one tiny second?”         “OKAY!” He fishes his keys out of his pocket and hands them to Amanda, who immediately tosses them to me.         “TRAITOR! J’accuse! You’ve sold me out to this… this hhhharpy!” he wails.         I lean over to kiss Ellen goodbye. She surprises me with just a quick peck on the lips. She gives me a coy smile. “I guess you’ll have to take a rain check on my present.” Hot damn, I love this girl.          I stand up and stretch my back. “Come on, man. Let’s get you home and get you to bed.”         “Yes, mommy,” he mumbles and meekly follows me out.         We walk to his car, a real piece of shit Passat. Or rather, I walk and Steve stumbles. I slide into the driver’s seat and he pretty much falls over across the back seat. By the time we’re a block away I can already hear him snoring. I get us back to our building and I wake him up. Fuck if I’m going to carry his lazy ass up four floors. He can walk his ass to the elevator. He does. Elevators are for pussies.  I take the stairs like a winner. I get to our floor just as Steve is shambling his way out of the elevator and we make our way to our door. He manages to make it to his room and slams the door. Well so much for him.         I’m still feeling out of it. There’s something about that… whatever that I saw that’s really throwing me off. I feel like something’s out of place, like my skin doesn’t fit right or something. I should go to bed too. I’ve got to get up bright and early for work. I strip, slide into bed, and close my eyes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~zzZZZZ~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHIRP! CHIRP! CHIRP! The sound of my alarm is torture. I smack it and go back to sleep.         “...slippin’ slippin’. Into the future. Time keeps on-” Ugh. My cell phone. Who the fuck is calling me so ear- 9:12?! Fuck, I’m late for work!         Sure enough, it’s my boss calling me to ask me where I am and why I’m letting down a very valuable client. I spit out an excuse and tell him I’ll be right in.         I throw on some clothes, grab Steve’s keys, and jot down a quick note telling him I’ve stolen his car. I practically fly down the stairs, out the front door, and into the car. It’s still taking forever to get to the gym. Fucking traffic.         While I sit in the car, I still feel off. I had nightmares all night. I can’t really place them. But I remember lots of bright colors. I remember a rainbow. I remember clouds. And at the end, I remember the brown and gray thing and the pain. Since when can you feel pain in a dream? Whatever this thing is, it’s really throwing me for a loop. I’m late to work. I’m never late to work. I slept through my morning run. I never sleep through my morning run. Never.         Eventually, I make it in to the gym and I guess either my uneasiness shows or I just look like shit because my boss lets me off without much fuss. I am his best PT after all. He handed my client off to one of the other trainers for the morning so I have a little time before my next one. Life continues as normal.         Just after noon, my phone rings. It’s from Steve.         “You’re doing good, Paul,” I tell my current “victim”. “Just keep at it. Give me fifty more and you can take a two minute break. Excuse me one sec, I gotta take this.”         I answer my phone. “YOUCRAZYBITCHWHATDIDYOUDOTOME?!?!”         “Who is this?” I answer sweetly.         “You know exactly who this is, you lunatic!” Steve screams through the phone. “This is the guy you tattooed last night!”         What?         “What?”         “I don’t remember a lot about what happened last night, but I remember I was talking about the Ponies, and you were making fun of me, and then I wake up just now with a fucking pony tattoo and my car is gone! What, in the name of all that’s good and just in the universe made you think you can pull this sort of shit?!”         “Whoa whoa whoa. Hold your horses,” I tell him.         “HA FUCKING HA! This isn’t a goddamn joke!”         “What, seriously?”         “YES, seriously!”         “Well man, I don’t know what to tell you. We actually came home pretty early. I drove us back about eleven-ish and you went right to sleep. You can ask Ellen or what’s-her-name.”         “It’s Mandy. And did either of them see us get home?” He asks         “Well they saw us leave.” I tell him.         “Then you could have brought me to a tattoo parlor on the way home and had them give me a cutie mark tattoo,” He says, sounding like Sherlock Holmes cracking the case.         “A what? Man, I don’t even know what that is. Does this seem like the kind of thing I’d do?”         “YES!”         “No, I mean, if I were going to get you a tattoo, what kind would I get you?”         He pauses. “Um… well actually, a penis on my forehead would be more your style.”         “Ha ha! You’re damn right! Now if you don’t mind, I’m working here. Some of us have jobs. Don’t drive off anywhere and we’ll talk about this when I get home.”         “FUCK YOU!” I hear just as I hang up.         I turn back to my client. “Okay, Paul, just fifty more,” I order him. He groans. »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»         I leave work at five and start the long, slow drive home. When I’m stopped at a red light, I notice a couple people crossing the street in front of the car give me weird looks, but I don’t think anything of it. People are always pretty much in awe of me wherever I go. I finally get to my building and find a place to park. In the lobby, one of my neighbors is getting his mail. He looks at me funny.         “You going to a 70s theme party or something?” he asks me.         “What? No. Why the hell would you think that?” I ask, annoyed.         “Well, you bleached and feather your hair. Kind of a giveaway,” he answers.         “I did what?” I pull down a lock of my hair and see that it’s white. What. The shit. I dash toward the stairs.         “And those contacts are cool!” I hear my neighbor shout after me.         I sprint up all four flights, fly to my door, thrust my key in, and hurry inside. Steve’s on the couch with his laptop. “There you are! You want to try to explain th- Whoa. What the hell happened to you?”         I rush into the bathroom and look at my reflection over the sink. My hair looks like it’s been lovingly feathered. And it’s white. As white as a cloud. White like I saw in my dream. And my eyes are bright yellow. Holy fuck, something is seriously wrong. So I do the smartest thing I can think of. I scream. /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Ch 02: The Times, They Are A-Changin' > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 1 – Interesting Times Chapter 2 – The Times, They Are A-Changin’ (In Which Strange Things Are Afoot and Feet Are Strange Things) My hair has gone white and my eyes have gone yellow. Welp, only one thing to do: scream. “WHAAAAAAAAAAaat the sweet baby Jesus is this!?”   “Do you mind with the noise? My head’s still a little tender after last night,” Steve calls from the other room. He appears in the doorway. “What are you yelling about, Gil? Y’alright?” He gets a good look at me. “Your eyes are yellow.”   What would I do without him? “NOOOOOOOOO! REALLY? And here I was worried about chipping a nail!” I’m concerned I wasn’t sarcastic enough. “I already frickin’ noticed, smart guy! What the hell’s the matter with me?”   He thinks about it for a second. “Maybe you have jaundice. Did you drink your liver to death last night? Because knowing you, that’s a distinct possibility.”   “I already told you on the phone. I wasn’t even that drunk when we came home.”   “Yeah, about that phone call. I’m still mighty pissed at you for this tattoo thing,” he grumbles.   “Man, I already told you. I had nothing to do with that. Maybe you went back out after I went to bed and got it yourself,” I try to reason. A realization hits me. “Wait, so you were serious? You really have a tattoo? Lemme see!”   Suddenly, he’s not looking so angry at me so much as embarrassed. “No way!” He starts backing away back into the main room.   I follow after him and start poking him in the chest. “Oh? Then how can I know you’re not lying if you don’t show me and prove you actually have it?”   “Fuck off, you Farrah Fawcett wannabe!” he shouts at me as he turns to make a break for it. He starts towards his room, but the door’s closed and he wouldn’t have time to open it before I caught him. He turns towards the kitchenette, but it’s too late. His hesitation gives me the time to throw myself at him and side tackle him. I sit on his chest.   “Okay, little man. I realize this must be a dream come true for you right now, but I’m just not interested in you in that way. I think we should just be friends,” I tell him with fake seriousness.   “Hardy har har. Would you mind kindly getting off me?” He grouses.   “Nooot untiiil you shooow meeee!♪” I sing.                  “I CAN’T if you’re SITTING ON ME!”         “Okay, then just tell me where and I’ll find it,” I wink at him.                  He looks like he’s thinking it over then lets out a heavy sigh. “Fuggin’ fine. They’re on my thighs.”   I stand up. “Oh HO! Two of them! Who knew you were so daring?” I chuckle as I help him to his feet. I sit down on the couch and he stays standing.   Steve unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his jeans, and lets them drop. “WHOOO! Take it off!” I howl at him. He scowls at me and lowers the waistband on the right side of his boxers. There, crisp and clean on his thigh, is the goofiest damn thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It’s a tattoo. Of a pillow. With eyes. Above a pair of crossed feathers. What. The shit.   Naturally, I burst out laughing. “BA HA ha ha ha haa! Man, that is, without a doubt, the greatest thing I have ever seen. It’s like the worst jolly roger ever. Of all time.”   The look on his face. Oh my god, it’s priceless. It’s the perfect combination of ‘Why me?’, ‘Kill me now’, and ‘I’m gonna murder you.’“Yeah yeah yeah, yuk it up there, friendo.”                  “Are you sure you’re not gay?” I laugh. “Because you had that girl macking on you all night and-“   “What?” he interrupts.   “Oh yeah, totally, dude,” I make a throwaway gesture, “She’s obviously crazy about you and you didn’t even notice. And now you’ve got the tutti fruitiest tattoo I’ve ever seen.   “I’m not gay!” He spits out way too suddenly. “And so what if I were? Which I’m not. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with that.”   I give him a wry look. “Hey. Remember who you’re talking to.”   Steve looks puzzled for a second, then relieved. “Oh. Right.”   Well I think that’s a minefield of a conversation we’ll get to another time. “So you’ve got the same thing on both sides?” I fix him with an even stare. “Why in God’s name would you get that?”   He looks super serious. “Probably the same reason you changed your eyes and hair, grandma.”   Oh. That sobered me up. “So you’re saying that these things just happened? Like, on their own?”   He pulls up his pants and plunks down on the couch next to me. He runs his hands through his curly black hair in frustration. “I mean, I know the answer should be ‘No’ because weird shit doesn’t happen,” He holds his face in his hands, “The world is painfully boring and nothing amazing ever happens,” He sighs and looks up at me, “But I have no rational explanation for this. You said that, what, an hour ago, your eyes and your hair were normal, right?”   “Well, I can’t tell you about my eyes, but my hair was definitely its normal brown,” I chip in.   “And nothing happened between then and when you noticed that change?” Uh oh, he’s getting all serious on me. It’s a really rare thing for Steve to get serious about anything, so it’s kind of cool to see it happen. Like an eclipse. He’s going into brainiac mode. I can actually see his brain cells firing. “You didn’t go near any sort of chemicals, radiation, unrecognizable technology? Was anyone suspicious following you around? Were you bitten by any strange insects or other animals? Anything unusual at all that could bleach your hair or damage your eyes?”   “Wow. No to everything. What was that about bugs? You think I’m Spiderman?” I say, doubtingly.   “Well fuck if I know!” He throws his hands up in exasperation. “I’m just throwing ideas out here. We’re in virgin territory here.”   I laugh, “Yeah, YOU are. I guarantee you I’m not.”   He facepalms. “You know what I mean. This is unprecedented shit happening to us. People don’t just change instantaneously like that. Random Cutie Marks don’t just appear on people. These are uncharted waters.”   “What marks? That’s the pony thing?” I ask in confusion.   “Cutie Mark. It’s that picture the ponies have on their ass,” he begins to explain, “It represents-“   Oh god, he’s going to keep talking about this. That’s my limit.   “NOPE!” I shout as I shoot up off the couch, leaping over the coffee table. “Don’t care! I missed my morning run today, so I’m going to get that in now.” I go grab a ball cap from my room and secure my now shockingly white hair under it. I make for the front door.   I’m half way out when Steve calls after me, “Wait a sec!” I stop. “YOU missed your run this morning? How the double deuce did that happen?”   I turn toward him with an embarrassed face. “Ehhh… Just didn’t sleep well last night. Really weird nightmares,” with that I turn and step out.   Just as I’m closing the door I think I hear Steve mutter, “You too?”   But now is not the time for that. Now is the time to put my brain on autopilot and just run. Now is the time for speed. »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»   I cut my run short tonight. My calves and ankles were starting to hurt for some reason, so I called it early. I came back home and scarfed down some of whatever it was that Steve made for dinner. Say what you will about the guy, but being a fatty means he knows good food. Now we’re sitting in front of the TV watching this week’s episode of Portal, AKA best show ever.   As I’m sitting here watching, my legs keep cramping up and my ankles keep locking up in an extended position. It hurts like a bitch. I must have pushed myself too hard today. I manage to soldier my way through the end of the episode, but by the end it, I’m barely hanging in there. After it’s done, I’m ready to just head to bed. I’m in pain and I’m exhausted from a bitch of a day.   I grab some painkillers from the bathroom. I close the medicine cabinet and examine my reflection in the mirror. I’m used to seeing my face with dark brown, almost black eyes and topped with my spiky brown hair. It’s weird to see them so different. Not even counting those changes, my face looks wrong for some reason. Other than my hair and eyes, I look the same. So why do I expect to see something different looking back at me? Forget it. I’m not up for this kind of self-identity bullshit even on a good day. I gulp down the painkillers and stick my mouth under the faucet to wash them down.   My feet are still all locked up as I make my way to my room, forcing me to walk tip-toe. Steve notices this. He gives me that worried look I hate. “Hey Gil, you alright?”   I’m at my door. I answer him, “Yeah, just muscle cramps. Musta pushed myself too hard. I know you’ve never had that problem, but that’s all this is.”   He doesn’t even rise to my jab. He just keeps looking at me with those big  brown doe eyes all full of worry. I fucking hate that. “Okay. But if anything else weird happens, let me know. I’ll be up a while yet. You know me, the wee hours are the best hours,” he says and gives me a weak, apologetic smile.   That face. I don’t need that pitiful fucking face. I want to just punch it in. But instead, I slam my door and move to my bed. I strip down to my undies and sit down on the bed. I massage my leg muscles for a few minutes before laying down.   I lay there for a while, just thinking. I know, I know. It’s dangerous, but I do do it occasionally. This was a day I’d love to forget, but somehow I don’t think I will. Even discounting the pain in my legs, I still feel off. I can’t understand it. It’s like there’s an itch about to form just under my skin, throughout my entire body. I sigh. Well, at least I don’t have to work tomorrow. I’m not sure when, but at some point I drift off. ~~~~~~~~~~~~zzZZZZ~~~~~~~~~~~~   CHIRP! CHIRP! CHIRP! There’s the alarm again. I had those weird dreams again last night, but they weren’t so bad this time. Just images of clouds and bright colors everywhere. There was this one blue blob that kept following me around. The dreams weren’t bad, so I actually got some rest last night. That and the fact that my legs don’t hurt anymore and the morning is already better than yesterday.   I sit up in bed and stretch. Time to get moving. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. Or at least, I try to.  As soon as I’m up on two legs, I’m already falling flat on my face.   “Okay, ow. The hell was that? Are my legs still asleep?” I mutter to myself. I sit up and reach down to massage my legs awake. As I begin to rub, I think how soft and silky my fur is.   ...Waaaaaiiiit a second. Something about that seems… off.  I look down at my paws, but they seem normal: tan fur, three toes, soft black paw pads. Yep.   What.   WHAT?! PAWS!? I have paws! Where are my feet? WHO TOOK MY FEET?! I need those! I start to hyperventilate. Jesus fuck, why is this happening? Yesterday was one thing, but I need my feet. Wait, if it didn’t stop at hair and eyes, what else has changed?   I push myself to all fours, and then shakily stand up. It’s painfully slow inching along on these new paws, as I carefully stagger over to my mirror and I’m stunned by what I see. I don’t… what? By now, I’m a gibbering wreck, breathing hard and spouting random noises of panic. This whatever is spreading. Yesterday, my hair was feathered. Today, my hair is feathers. Honest to fuck feathers. Where my hair used to be, and spreading down the back of my neck, is a layer of downy white feathers. In place of bangs, I have a trio of longer, wider feathers that fade to purple at the tip. They’ve even spread up toward the sides of my face and completely cover my ears. I turn my head to inspect. Nevermind, I was wrong. The feathers aren’t covering my ears; they’re just gone.   GAH! MY EARS ARE GONE! The sight of the little holes in the side of my head with no ears shocks me so much I yowl and leap backward a full six feet. If I weren’t so panicked, I’d be impressed. I shamble to the door as fast as I can and throw it open. I step out and start toward Steve’s room, but I stop short. My door faces the back of the couch, but I can see one of his legs draped over the side. Lazy kid must have fallen asleep out here again.   “Steve, wake up!” I shout.   All I get in response is an annoyed growl.   “WAKE UP, LAZY BONES!”   He kicks his leg a little bit, his foot twitching wildly, and grunts. “Uhhhhh. What time izzit?”   “6:30!” I bark, “Wake your sorry ass up, retard! It’s an emergency!”   He moans again. His hand raises up over the back of the drab beige couch, covered in stains, and waves me off. “Leave me alone. Ah need more th’n three hours o’ sleep. Unlike you, some o’ us need our beauty rest,” he mumbles.   “GET! UP! FATASS! You said to tell you if anything else weird happened! It did! MY FUCKING EARS ARE GONE!”   He doesn’t respond for a couple seconds. But finally, he reacts. “What?” he asks, sounding more alert. He sits up, his head popping up like a gopher, and turns to look at me, a thin line of drool running down his cheek. Oh god. Not him now.   “It got you too!  The weird stuff is spreading! Look at me! Look at you!” I shriek at him.   “Me?” he asks, looking confused. He brushes his hair out of his face, which seems to confuse him further. Not only because it’s not normally long enough to need it, but because it’s a dark purple with blue streaks.  He takes a lock in his fingers and looks at it closely. He turns back to me and his eyes take a second to focus on me. His bright green eyes.   “Gilda, what the fuck?” He asks, with more detached shock than outright panic.   “What did you call me?” I demand. That name. It sticks in my mind like a thorn. I jerk my way over to him. “What is that name?”   “I…bugger. What?” he looks around, bewildered. “OHHHHH! I know what’s going on,” he sighs in relief.   “You… You do?” I beg him, my hand clutching the couch back in a death grip.   “Yeaaah. I’m dreaming,” he states matter-of-factly.   Is this guy serious? “No, you’re not! This is real! I’m really covered in feathers here! Get your ass together, I need your help!”   “Nah, I have lucid dreams all the time.  Don’t worry about it,” he says, and pats my hand, trying to be reassuring, “because you’re not really real. This is all just in my head. Now I’m going to go back to sleep.” He lies back down. “Nice feet by the way. They go really well with the tail.”   The…. tail? I turn my head and look down at my ass. Sure enough, there’s a furry lion tail, the same color fur as my paws, merrily swishing back and forth.   “I… da… Habadidina,” I sputter. Dammit, brain, don’t you quit on me now. Too late, full systems failure. My legs fall out from under me, my vision goes black, and I pass out.   ~~~~~~~~~~~~zzZZZZ~~~~~~~~~~~~   I awake several hours later in a daze. Why am I lying on the floor? Why is Steve shaking me, shrieking “Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup,” like a little girl? Why is his hair purple? Why does he have blue… horse ears?   Oh right. Oh! Right! I bolt upright. “How long was out? What’s going on?” I demand.   “Ohmygodmygod, thank Asgard you’re okay. You woke me up earlier and you had a tail and feathers and I had purple hair and I thought it was just another dream, so I went back to sleep, though that doesn’t really make sense to still be sleepy in a dream but whatever, I went back to sleep and then I just woke up now and it was, like, just after 1 and I saw that I still had the purple hair but it was for real, not a dream, and now I also have all this other stuff and I freaked out but then I saw you on the floor and I thought you were dead, but you’re not! You’re aliiiive!” Steve spews all in one breath. Wow, that was actually impressive. He sits down heavily on the back of the couch, trying to catch his breath. He sways and falls backward, his legs now draping over the back. They end in dark blue hooves.   I hear him take a deep breath in through his nose, mutter, “Infinite patience,” and exhale through his mouth. After a few seconds, he sounds much calmer, “Gayle… what is happening to us?”   I stand up and totter on my changed legs. I ease over to sit down heavily next to him. He’s staring blankly at the ceiling. I sigh, “I don’t know, little buddy.”   We sit in silence for a few minutes. I can’t tell what’s going through his head. Eventually, Steve breaks the silence. “We need to assess the situation. We need to take stock of our changes, try to remember anything that could have caused this, figure out where this started. Maybe if we get some insight into what’s actually happening, we can try to find a way to reverse it.” He’s in serious business mode again. He continues to look straight up. “What’s the first strange thing you noticed, Gil? Was it the hair?”   “You keep calling me that,” I point out.   “Huh? Calling you what? I said ‘Gayle’,” he says quickly.   “No, at first I thought I was hearing you wrong, but the last couple of days, sometimes you call me ‘Gil’, and this morning when you were still half asleep, you called me ‘Gilda’,” I tell him.   “I did?” His eyes get wide for a second then dart around the room. He looks like he’s processing something. “Interesting.” His eyes snap back to me. “So was that the first thing? Was there anything else out of the ordinary, no matter how small, that happened before that?”   “Um….” I wrack my brain. “I guess the first thing might have been when we were at the bar. I was in the middle of a sentence, and then suddenly it was like I was dreaming. When it was over, you guys said I’d been spaced out for a few minutes. That was about quarter to 11.”   He turns toward me. “Oh yeah, I think I remember that. It was weird. You sort of mouthed some words, but you didn’t really say anything.” He turns back to the ceiling. “What was the ‘dream’ about?”   How do I even describe it? It was so different from anything I’d experienced before. Or maybe, it was exactly like something I’d experienced before, just a really long time ago.   “How do you mean?” he asks. Did I just say that all out loud?   “I’m not sure. I never had a dream like that before, but I’ve been having them every night since then.” I lean back and stare at the ceiling too. “It almost didn’t feel like a dream. It felt more like a vague memory, except it wasn’t anything I’ve ever seen before. I couldn’t see very well. It was all just colors and shapes and voices and flashes of light. At the end, there was this one voice.” I shudder as I remember it. “It was so creepy. It said, ‘Five score-‘”   “Divided by four,” we finish at the same time. I quickly turn to him to find him kneeling on the couch, leaning toward me, his face uncomfortably close to mine. I notice he’s got a blue lump on his forehead.   I’m at a loss for words. “How…” I croak, “How did you know that?”   “I had the same dream,” he says, sounding like some sort of fucking wizard.   “When?”   “Yesterday. I was asleep. I was having a dream, then suddenly it just shifted. It was just like you said. There were colors and shapes. There were towers all over the place. I was in the middle of a group of these… colorful blobs, I guess. We were all moving in one direction fairly quickly. They were screaming. ‘Run!’ they were saying. ‘Honey, help!’ ‘Hide, Daisy!’ ‘He’s coming this way!’ There was so much screaming…” He trails off.   Steve shifts and finally sits normally like a regular person. “Ow!” he cries and adjusts his butt. “Not used to that.” He sighs. “After that, there were these flashes of light. They were coming closer and closer. I heard this… laughter. It was horrible. It was this goofy sounding guffaw, but a goofy guffaw as it would sound coming from a psychopathic clown who’s about to murder you, skin you, and wear your face as a mask. He was…” Steve gulps. “He was singing. The song went, ‘Five score, five score, divided by four.’” He starts to sing it in a slow, haunting little melody. I shift uncomfortably at this. He continues, “‘Five score, five score, divided by four. Something something removed. Something body confused. Something game something will play. Cast something away.’ I don’t remember it very well. I… don’t think I want to.” He stops and pauses.   “That’s okay, man. I don’t think I would want to either.” I pat him on the shoulder. “Then what happened?”   “Then nothing,” he says simply.   “Nothing?”   “Then there was an extraordinarily bright flash, some excruciating pain, and I woke up. My thighs itched, which led me to the cutie marks. That’s when I called you.”   “Shit, man.”   “Yeah.”   “I told ya I didn’t do it,” I chuckle.   He turns and scowls at me. “I could use a drink.”   “Isn’t that what got us into this mess?”   “Well more couldn’t hurt,” he chuckles. “This is some birthday we’ve had, huh? Didn’t even get a cake.”   “Like you need more cake, fatass,” I poke him in the gut.   “Hey! For the millionth time, I’m not fat.” He brushed my finger away.   “Okay, how tall are you?” I ask.   “Six foot even.”   “And how much do you weigh?”   “About 95 kilos,” he responds.   I roll my eyes. “There’s the kilograms again. You always do that. What is that in pounds, like a normal person?”   He rolls his eyes upwards, and makes some waving gestures in the air with his finger. I recognize his “I’m doing math” face. “Um… approximately 210 pounds.”   “So, fat.”   “Think what you want, but not everyone’s a gross stick like you. 210 may be out of shape, but it’s not fat,” he says indignantly, “And you may not want to eat cake on your birthday, but if I want some the day after on MY birthday… I’ll…” He trails off. That’s weird.   “What’s wrong?”   He shoots to his feet, err hooves, and turns to me. “Quick, what time were you born?”   “What? Who cares? Who remembers that sort of thing?” I ask in confusion.   “I do! Don’t you have a copy of your birth certificate around here somewhere?” he bursts.   I’m lost. “Um, yeah, in my desk. It-“   He almost trips over the coffee table, but Steve shoots toward my room. As he goes, he makes clip clopping noises and I notice for the first time he has a bushy, tangled tail the same dark purple with light blue streaks as his hair. “Whoa, when did that happen?” I call after him.   “When did what happen?” he calls back from my room. I hear him open a drawer and start rummaging around.   “When did you get a tail? And the horse feet and ears for that matter?”   “While I was sleeping. I’m growing a horn too! You just now noticed?” he calls as he slams a drawer. “I can’t find dick in this hazardous waste dump you call a room!”   “Well sorry me, miss prissy pants!” I taunt, “Most of us didn’t go to school to be professionally anal retentive! It’s probably in the lower left. Why do you need it?”   “I’ll tell you when I’m right!” he announces, “And besides, being a librarian is not anal retentive. There’s nothing weird about liking things to be in order.” He continues to riffle through papers. “Now, the fact that if I ever met Melvil Dewey I’d totally blow him? I admit that’s weird, but the guy was a fucking hero in my book. …Get it? Book!”   “Ha ha, you’re a fucking comed-“   “FOUND IT!” he proclaims and rushes back into the main room, sitting back down next to me.   “Let’s see here… time of birth… HA I FUCKING KNEW IT!” he announces triumphantly. Jeez. Who knew a guy could get so excited about fact checking? “Abigayle Theresa Griffin, born 10:42 pm!”   “Your point?” I spit impatiently.   “I was born at 12:04 pm the next day,” he informs me.   “Yeah, so?”   “You said that you had that vision at approximately quarter to 11, right?”   I’m beginning to see where this is going. “Go on.”   His voice is start to get higher and faster as he gets more excited. “Well I had mine just about noonish the next day! And you know that ‘score’ is another word for twenty, right? So what would ‘five score, divided by four’ equal?”   Christ, he’s making me do math at a time like this. I figure it out in my head, “Um, twenty five.”   He continues on his roll, “WHICH!” he punctuates this with a raised index finger, “We both just turned...”   Holy shit, the pieces all just fell into place. I finish his thought “…The same exact minute we had the dreams.”   “Exactly, my fine feathered friend!” He cheers.   “Don’t call me that,” I scold him, “And wipe that smirk off your face. You’re grinning like the cat that got the canary.”   “Ah, I think you’re both the cat AND the canary here, Gilda,” he chuckles.   “What?” I question. That name again. Why does it sound so familiar? “What does that mean? And what’s that name?”   With one fluid movement, he snags his laptop off the coffee table, opens it, and is already typing something in. He clicks a few times, and then spins the screen around to show me a page.  It’s a wiki entry showing a picture of a creature. It has the back half of a lion, with paws and tail like mine. Its front end looks like an eagle, with white feathers like mine. There are even three large ones in front that fade to purple at the tip.   “Gayle Theresa Griffin?” he announces, “Meet Gilda the Griffon.” /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Ch 03: What Is This? More Talking? Get to the Action! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 1 – Interesting Times Chapter 3 – What Is This? More Talking? Get to the Action! (In Which Our Heroes Sit Around and Talk Even More, Truths Are Discovered, and Non-Plans Are Made) I stared at the computer screen in shock. Staring back at me was a creature that I was starting to look an AWFUL lot like. Her name is Gilda. How nice. I look up to Steve. “So this is from the Pony show, right?” “Yes,” he confirms, “this is from the Pony show.” I tilt my head and give him a doubting look. “You think I’m turning into this character from the Pony show,” I ask. He sets the laptop on the coffee table. “Well, I mean,” he says with a shrug and an “I don’t know” gesture of his hands, “that’s where this seems to be heading. You must admit, the similarities are striking.” I look to my feet. They have the high ankle and long foot of a cat, ending in a paw. Golden brown fur has spread up almost to my knee. I flex my toes, and to my surprise, claws pop out of the ends. I flex them again and the claws retract. Huh. I look back to Steve. “So change us back.” He gives a weak chuckle. “What, you’re serious?” He pauses, and then furrows his brow in a look of righteous indignation. “You think I did this?!” “Well, you are the pony guy. You seem like the biggest suspect,” I accuse. “You think I want this?!” he shouts, “If this leads to its logical conclusion, then I’m going to lose my fucking hands! You may get to keep yours, but I don’t! I LIKE having hands! Have you even contemplated the consequences of this?! This is going to completely ruin our lives! Why the FUCK would I do this?” He stops and snorts. He closes his eyes, slowly brings his hands upwards, as if guiding the air to his face, and breathes in deeply through his nose. He quietly mutters, “Infinite patience,” before blowing out through his mouth, while waving his hands forward, as if pushing the air away. He sits there a few seconds, then opens his eyes and looks at me. “I’m sorry about that,” he says softly, “That wasn’t helpful. ‘Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.’ The point is I don’t know understand why this is happening any more than you do. Though I may know who is responsible.” Say what? I lean forward in surprise. “What? How? Who?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Do you remember the voice from your dream?” “Yeaaahhhh…” He leans forward and searches up a new page on his laptop and hits play. It’s a video from the Pony show. There’s a long brown and gray creature with a mishmash of body parts. Is that… could it be? Nooo… Then, it starts to talk. Its voice sends a chill up my spine, and I can see Steve shudder too. That voice. It’s the one from my dream. “Oh, so boring, Celestia. Really? Fine, I'll tell you, but I'll only tell you my way. To retrieve your missing elements just make sense of this change of events. Twists and turns are my master plan. Then find the elements back where you began.” The way he taunts and rhymes is even the same. “Who…” I whisper, “Who is that?” “That,” Steve answers, “is Discord, the spirit of chaos. Long story short, he was a bad guy, before being reformed. But it turns out he was just playing the long con, because in the last episode he pulls a 180 face-heel turn, destroys the main characters, and the show ends. I don’t know how, but somehow HE’S behind this.” “But… but…” I stammer, “but, how could he do this to us? He’s just a cartoon character.” “Last I checked, so were griffons.” That stings. I hate this. I hate not knowing what’s going on. I hate being unsure of myself. I’m not used to being scared or confused, or not knowing what to do. I’m Gilda, the awesomest, most in-control chick in the- No, dammit! I’m Gayle! Not this… bird thing. I sit back and just stare off into space for a minute or so. Steve is too polite to say anything. I feel him squirm in his seat a couple times. He must be having problem with his tail. But then, so am I. I guess I’ll have to start getting used to it. What else can I do? …No. I’m Gayle, and I. Don’t. Lose. I don’t let anyone or anything beat me, so I’m sure as fuck not going to start now. I hate being in the dark and not knowing what to do. So you know what? I won’t be. I’m going to learn about this Pony crap, and then I’ll figure out the answers, and then I’m going to make a plan, and it’s going to be a kickass plan, and then I’ll find this Discord piece of shit, and then kick his balls in until he pees blood, and then he’ll change us back. Fucking. Problem. Solved. Because I’m Gayle and I’m a winner. I solve “fucking problems”. I burst from my seat. “OKAY! We’re going to figure this bullshit out!” I announce. I circle around the couch into the open part of the room and start to pace back and forth. “Let’s list off everything we know. At the exact time I turned twenty five, I had a “vision”, I make quotation fingers here. “About,” I do a quick subtraction, “ten hours later, the same thing happens to you at the exact time YOU turned twenty five.” “Right. Plus, I believe that was when my Cutie Mark appeared.” “We both dreamed about this Discord guy cursing us with the number twenty five. We figure he’s behind this whole mess and it had to do with our birthday.” “Right.” “Now, I’ve been having weird dreams since then, but nothing like the first one. The same kind of colors and shapes, but nothing bad. You?” “Actually, yeah.” “Okay, then, like, three quarters of a day later, my hair and eyes changed and my feet started to change. Yours did the same sometime overnight. When I woke up, my hair and feet were completely changed, so were my ears and I had a tail,” I tick of the list of changes on my fingers, …which I notice are now changing color. Great. “Oh, and now my hands are turning yellow. Then the same changes happened to you, just a few hours after me. That sound about right?” Steve nods. “Yes, nice exposition. Thank you for unnecessarily summarizing things we both already know. Oh, except for your nose and lips are starting to look yellow as well,” he informs me. Say what? Gonna have to check that out. I continue, “So now the question is, ‘why is it different between us?’ I mean, I figure I’ve got a head a head start just because I was born earlier, but why are we changing differently? Like, my ears disappeared, but yours got bigger. And there’s that lump on your face. What’s up with that?” I stop pacing and turn to Steve with my hands on my hips. “It’s a horn. I seem to be changing into a unicorn. It’s not any character I can recall from the show, though. I don’t recognize the Cutie Mark,” he reports. “Yeah, that too. Why don’t I have one of those?” I demand. “A Cutie Mark?” he asks, “Oh, griffons don’t have Cutie Marks. Only ponies,” he tells me as if it’s the most basic thing in the world. “Okay, you keep saying that word. For those of us who aren’t gross nerds,” I start, “What exactly is a griffon?” “Well, then,” he begins. Uh oh. This is gonna be long. “Ponies come in three varieties: unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies, and all possess a special talent. The Cutie Mark represents that talent. When they discover what their talent is, the Mark appears on their flank, signifying their coming of age,” he explains. He’s in full-on professor mode now. “Griffons, on the other hand, aren’t a type of pony at all. They’re a classic creature from real world mythology made up of half lion and half eagle,” he continues. …Half and half? My heart sinks. I’m turning into a creature that’s half one thing and half another? Godammit, the universe has a really fucking cruel sense of humor. I don’t even care right now how bitchin’ lions and eagles are, this sucks roya- Oh crap, he’s still talking? Christ, he just keeps going and going. What did I miss? “-that’s a whole other kettle of fish. The point is unlike in that work, in this show, they ARE intelligent, just as much as any pony. The main difference, aside from the obvious physical attributes, is the lack of the clearly defined special talent, and therefore no Cutie Mark,” he finishes, “Sooooo… yeah. Now you know.” “Fucking fascinating.” “Noooo!” he whines, “You’re supposed to say, ‘And knowing is half the battle! G I Jooooe!’” I snort and rub my forehead. “Is this really the time, idiot?” Steve looks sheepish. “Umm, sorry. I’m trying to have a sense of humor.” I narrow my eyes. “Yeeaaahhhh…. Except for, ahem, earlier accusations, you seem awfully chill about this whole thing.” He shrugs. “’Que sera sera. What will be, will be.’ Something is happening, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So why get concerned? In a time like this, I remain calm and I ask myself, ‘WWAD?’ What would Arthur Do? Then I don’t panic.” Okay, I’ll bite. “Who’s Arthur?” “Arthur Dent, the main character of my favorite book,” he tells me. This is more personal information about him than I’ve ever know. In fact, I think that in the entire three years we’ve been living together, this is the longest we’ve actually just talked to one another in one sitting where there wasn’t a TV on or didn’t involve Portal in some way. “He’s just this normal, average guy, but he gets swept up in extraordinary events. He doesn’t want any part of the situation, but he’s not a hero, so there’s nothing he can do about it. All he can do is just go along with the flow; just smile, nod his head, and hope for a quiet spot of tea,” he smiles. I quirk an eyebrow. “That’s your role model? Sounds like a pussy.” He scrunches his face in a frown. “The POINT,” he punctuates this by slashing his hand through the air, “is that I’m in a situation that’s way over my head and I can choose either: A, ‘freak the fuck out and make things worse’, or B, ‘don’t panic’. Which seems more pragmatic here?” “Okay, I get ya. I think I’m knowing that feels right now, man,” I take a deep breath and blow it out. “Okay, step one done. We’ve taken stock of what’s happened so far. Now step two: what’s next?” Steve crosses his arms and frowns. “Sure, we’ve taken stock of OUR situation. But what about other ponies- um, sorry, I mean, what about other people?” “What do you mean?” He cocks his head. “Why should we be the only ones?” He smirks, giving me his best “clever old philosopher” impression. “Our visions and the resulting transformations are too similar for them to be coincidental. I believe they weren’t just dreams, but, I don’t know, memories, or a look through a window into another world, or something. There are too many similarities for them to have not been actual events. And from those, we know Discord attacked entire cities. What happened to all of those characters? If that’s all real, then what about the show? It specifically ended with Discord eliminating the main characters, focusing on Twilight, but implying the rest. What about them?” He sighs and leans back. “What about us? What’s so special about us, that this is happening to us of all people? And what are the odds that it just happened to be the two of us? Of the seven billion people in the world, it’s only two and they just so happen to live together? I refuse to believe that. I’d bet a million dollars that if Discord attacked that many ponies, there are more people out there like us.” Steve squirms a bit and crosses his legs. He looks confused and worried now. “I don’t know about you, but I think something pulled us together. I can barely stand you half the time, and I know the feeling is mutual. So why the fuck do we live together? All those times I wanted to kick you out, something stopped me. Why did I pick you in the first place?” he puzzles. “Maybe you just lurve me,” I coo at him mockingly and give him a kissy face. He snorts. “Sure, that must be it. You’re not my type. I had a guy lined up who was going to be more my speed, let me use his giant TV when he went out of town all the time, AND pay more than his share of the rent. But for some reason, something made me think he was too good to be true and pick you instead. Something connected me to you. Maybe it was this? Maybe we were connected from the moment we were born and when we finally met, we subconsciously sensed that resonance,” His face suddenly goes pale. “And if that’s true, couldn’t it also be true for anyone we know?” Ellen! “IGOTTAMAKEACALL!” I cry and dash to my room to grab my phone. Or at least I try to. Damn cat feet. Almost as soon as the phone is in my hand, Ellen’s number is dialed and the phone is at my ear. Or, um… ear hole. The line rings several times before my girlfriend picks up. Before she can get a word out, I blurt, “Oh thank god, Ellen! You picked up. Baby, you alright?” “What? Gayle?” she asks, the annoyance clear in her voice, “Why are you calling me at work?” “Quick, baby, when’s your birthday?” Ellen sighs wearily. “We just talked about this last week. You forgot already?” Oh no, not her too. “I’m so sorry! Oh jesus, yours was the other day too!” I apologize, “Look, I know this is weird, but me and Steve are figuring this thing out. You should come over right away!” “What? No. What are you talking about? It’s in October,” she sighs in frustration again. “Gayle, I love you, but you never listen to me. How many times have I told you not to call me at work unless it’s an emergency?” “But this IS an emer-“ Ellen cuts in, “Forgetting my birthday is not an emergency. Last time it was because you forgot a pair of shoes at my place. I’ve got someone sitting across my desk right now, giving me an annoyed look, and rightly so. I have to go.” “I love you.” “We’ll talk about this later,” she says and hangs up. I sigh. Well that could have gone better. I don’t listen? My last dozen girlfriends all said the same thing. I think I listen just fine. But at least it sounds like Ellen’s not affected by this weirdness. Her birthday is wrong and she didn’t sound like someone freaking out from turning into a cartoon character. I finally put some pants on. Eww, even in pants, my legs look all weird. I shove my cell in my pocket and go back out into the main room. Steve’s on the phone. “-wanted to make sure. You’re positive you’re okay? Nothing out of the ordinary is going on with you?” He pauses. “Okay, well that’s good. Talk to you soon,” he finishes and hangs up. I plop down next to him. He turns to me. “I think you had the right idea. I’m calling a few friends and acquaintances.” “A few?” “Just six or seven off the top of my head,” he says offhandedly, “Ones who I don’t know their age and birthday that might have just turned twenty five.” How many people does this kid know? He dials another number and puts the phone back up to the side of his head. Hmm, he’s busy. No sense wasting time. If this shit’s going to continue, I may as well get back on my feet, literally. I spend the next twenty minutes practicing on my new feet; walking, jogging, jumping. By the time Steve’s done on the phone, I’m stable and I’ve got a new appreciation for these things. Okay!” Steve announces, “It doesn’t sound like anyone I know is affected by this. At least, no one I talked to. There are plenty of people I only know online and who knows what’s going on with them.” He squirms in his seat. “Tail problems?” I ask with a smirk. “Uhhhhh. Yeah,” he answers with shifty eyes. “Deal with it,” I order him, “Step one: done. Step two: the fuck to do we do now?” Nothing comes to mind. We stare at eachother for a minute in silence. Finally, Steve breaks it, “We have to get out of the city.” That’s crazy. I tell him so. “That’s crazy. What about my job? Your job? Ellen? We can’t just drop our entire lives and leave! Where would we even go?” “Gayle,” he starts, his voice level and his eyes dead serious, “as far as I’m concerned, our lives were dropped the second this started. It just wasn’t up to us. What are you going to do? Go into work tomorrow or whenever looking like that? Or worse? ‘Hey, boss! Don’t mind me, I’m just a mythological predator now,’” he acts the last bit out in a mockery of my voice. “They’ll call the cops. Or animal control. Either way, eventually you’ll end up with your brain vivisected in some government lab somewhere.” I slump down in my seat and bury my face in my hands. I notice my nose feels stiff. Maybe he’s right. “As for where we’ll go? Beats the shit out of me,” he admits. His eyes roll up as he thinks. “Why don’t we go hide out at your parents place? It’s not too far and I’d imagine it’s pretty private.” My hands shoot to the top of my head and I run my fingers through my hair, err feathers. “WHAT?! FUCK NO!” I shout, “Are you out of your goddamn mind?! My parents 1000% CAN’T know about this! I’m lucky they didn’t disown me when they found out I fuck other chicks! This is a whole other…” I trail off. “Heh, and now you’re a different sort of ‘chick’,” he laughs. “Ha. Ha. Hi-larious,” I deadpan, “How about we go to your parents, smart guy?” “Can’t.” “See? Not so eager to show this off to the ‘rents either, are ya?” “No, not ‘won’t’. ‘Can’t’.” “Oh yeah? Why not? Where are they, anyway?” I demand. “Manchester.” “Where’s that? Like, upstate?” I inquire. “England.” Huh. That’s a new one. “Well, what the balls are they doing there?” Steve gives me a disbelieving look. “Uh, they live there?” “Since when?!” “Since always,” he says with a look of defeat. The gears turn and the lines connect in my brain. “Waaaait…. You’re English?!”I squawk. He just sits there looking incredibly embarrassed. “How did I never know this? You don’t even sound English!” Steve opens his mouth, but instead of his normal voice, what comes out is probably the funniest thing ever. Of all time. “Wot? Is this better? I ‘aveta sound like this to be a proper Englishman?” His accent. Oh my god oh my god. I can’t stop laughing. “Oy, you ‘aving a fooking laugh at me?” he barks. I’m still laughing. “Well, I’m plum chuffed I could amuse you.” Still laughing. “You shut yer gob!” I get myself together enough to talk. “Okay, okay,” I manage breathlessly. “Ruddy bloody yanks…” he grumbles. “Dude, you sound like a fucking Beetle!” I laugh. “No, I don’t,” he argues. Awww, he’s back to his normal voice. “They were from Liverpool. They had a Scouse accent. I’m a Manc.” “What’s the difference?” I question. “What’s the difference between a Brooklyn and a Boston accent?” he counters. “Okay, whatever. I get it. Why do you normally sound, um, normal.” “For EXACTLY THAT reason,” he insists, “People hear the accent and they either think it’s hilarious or I’m a tourist, or both. So I hide it. Let’s move on, shall we?” “Okay,” I give in, “so your parents are a no go. Where do we go to? I still say we don’t need to leave the city. Let’s just hide out in Central Park or something until this all blows over.” “Ha, too bad you’re not Zecora, then if someone heard hoof beats, they’d be looking for the right thing,” he says with a smirk. I just look at him blankly. “Um, yeah. So what if this doesn’t ‘blow over’?” he narrows his eyes, “There’s no way a unicorn and a griffon would be able to stay completely hidden in the park forever, and there’s no way we’d be able to get back out of Manhattan unseen, much less back here. Then it’s right to the autopsy table.” I scratch the back of my head. “Okay, I give up. So where do we go?” “Search me. I don’t really have anywhere else here in the States,” he admits. He turns the tables on me. “What about you? Don’t you have anywhere besides your parents house you know that we could take refuge? No one else you trust that could take us in?” No one comes to mind. But then, a faint trace of an idea. “I… Let’s go camping,” I suggest and stand up. Steve just looks at me skeptically. “….Camping. At a time like this?” “Yeah, sure!” I cheer, “Why not?” I start to pace again. I hate sitting still too long, especially in a crisis like this. I feel like I need to be moving. “When I was younger, like maybe three summers in a row, I remember my parents took me to some lake upstate. We’d rent a cabin and stay there a week. They said they needed ‘to escape the responsibilities of society for just a while,’ or some BS like that,” I recall. “We’ll go there!” I announce, gesturing wildly with my arms, “I love camping! I’ve got the gear already. We’ll just get some stuff for you, some food, and we’ll head up to the lake! I don’t remember exactly where it is, but if we need to stop for the night before we get there, I’m sure we can find a campground to stay at. Or fuck, just stay in the woods. It’s perfect!” Steve just stares dumbfounded at me for a moment, his mouth hanging open. Finally, he speaks, “Perfect? Gayle, I say this with the utmost respect for you as a person, but THAT... is the... STUPIDEST… fucking plan… I have ever heard in my entire life. That’s not even a plan. That’s Wile. E Coyote. That’s a child drawing ‘what I want to be when I grow up’ in crayon. That’s-“ I cut him off. “Okay, smart guy. If I’m so stupid and you’re so damn smart, let’s hear your idea,” I challenge. He opens his mouth, but no words come out. He raises his index finger, as if to make a point, then puts it back down. He sputters a bit, “I. We. Let’s.” He hits himself a few times on the forehead with his fist before sighing in resignation, “Goddammit. God damn it.” I laugh in triumph, “Ha ha! I win again!” I sidle over to him and nudge him with my elbow. “What’s the matter, pussy? You scared of the woods?” He sighs again. “Look, I do not want to be eaten by wolves or mothmen or what-have-you, raped to death by psycho hillfolk, or possessed by an ancient demonic force from some necronomicon. If we die out there, I am going to fucking murder you.” “HA!” I chuckle, “Fair enough. But you got nothing to worry about, buddy. You got me! What could possibly go wrong?” /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Ch 04: Escape From New York > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 1 – Interesting Times Chapter 4 – Escape From New York (In Which Our Heroes Escape From New York)     “Hurry it up!” I yell toward the bathroom. “What are you doing in there, princess? I’m sure your makeup looks fine!”   Steve shouts back to me, “I had to make some calls to arrange my disappearance. I couldn’t just not show up to work. You should do the same. And while you may be content to just throw some shit in a bag, I’m making sure I’m prepared. Who knows how long we’ll be out there. Did you even bring a toothbru-,” he pauses mid-sentence. Then after a few seconds, “Huh.”   “What?”   “Um… I have no balls,” he says in confusion, almost more to himself than to me.   I laugh, “Ha! What else is new? Everybody already knew that!”   He cracks the door and peeks out. “No, seriously. My balls are gone.”   I burst out laughing. Steve looks embarrassed. When I’m done, I tell him, “Good one. I’m feeling out of whack like that myself right now.”   He blushes. “I’m serious. I think I’m turning into a woman.”   Oh. My. God. I thought his accent was the funniest thing I’d ever heard. This beats it hands down. I laugh again. This time I’m so hysterical I can’t breathe.   Steve slams the door. “It’s not funny!”   “Whatever, man, this is hilarious,” I guffaw. “Oh, I’m sorry, I mean ‘girl’. I guess you really are ‘princess’ now. Anyway, it’s, like, 5:30. You said we were going to leave a half an hour ago. Shove your tampons in your purse, hand me my toothbrush, and let’s gooooo!”   The door flies open and Steve thrusts my toothbrush at me. He’s wearing a look of irritated resignation. “You’re hilarious. Look, this is kind of a big deal for me. Give me a couple minutes to deal with this. Then I’ll finish packing and we’ll be out of here by six. “   “Fine,” I huff at him, “Baby.  I’m gonna go call work.” I turn around and walk into my room. I take note of my pile of supplies. One duffle bag with a couple days worth of clothes, a spare pair of running shoes, hiking boots, and some hygiene stuff, now including my toothbrush. One camping backpack stuffed with my outdoorsy supplies, tools and sleeping bag. And of course, one four person tent. I never went camping with four people though. One of my girlfriends was a hiking fiend and got me into it. After I broke up with her, I brought a couple other girls out to meet the call of the wild, but most weren’t real thrilled. Their loss. I love getting out into the woods now and then.   So yeah, I’ve got everything I need. Don’t know what’s taking that lazy bastard so long. Whatevs.  I slip my phone out of my pocket and dial with one hand, while absently scratching my back with the other. My back is getting super itchy. I also feel this hard lump back there. That can’t be good.   “OW!” I yelp. Fuck, I scratched myself pretty bad. As the line rings, I examine my hands. They’re starting to get dry, scaly, and damn, them suckers is gettin' sharp. You might say “claw-like”. The phone clicks and I hear an automated menu start to play. The receptionist leaves at five, but my boss should be there until seven today, so I dial his extension. It rings once and he picks up.   “Go for the Danman!” he practically sings.   “Hey, mah main man, Dan!” I give him the typical greeting. My boss, Dan, is the friendliest guy on the planet. He has a personalized routine for each of his employees that we have to go through.   He recognizes my voice and give me the usual response. “All hail Gayle! What’s the word, Gaylebird?” Ha, bird. I’d laugh at the irony if it weren’t so stupid. The nickname was always stupid. I guess he got it from rhyming with “jailbird”? Who the fuck knows. I like the guy. He’s nice but kind of an idiot and kind of irritating. Wherever the name came from, it sure makes sense now. I wonder if the universe planned this whole thing out ahead of time.   “I gots me a problem, Danman. I’m gonna need some time off,” I tell him.   “Sure thing, Bird. How much?” he asks.   “Um, that’s the problem. I don’t know. I’ve… uh… got a family emergency?” I make up on the spot. Prolly shoulda planned this.   “Wait,” he says, his voice losing some of its friendliness, “you want to take off immediately? And you don’t know how long you’ll be gone. You’re putting me in a bind here, Bird.”   “I know, Dan, but I have to go out of town. We had a sickness in the family. Oh, and um… someone died? Yeah, that’s right. It was real bad. Real black death kind of shit, you know wh-” I interrupt myself. At the end there, my voice changed. It got higher and a little raspy. Great.   I clear my throat. And try again. “Sorry about that,” I say carefully. Yes! Back to normal. “I think I’m getting sick myself. Sore throat.”   He doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds, but then, “Welllll alright, Bird. If it was anyone else, I’d have told ‘em ‘no’. But you’ve never taken a day off the entire time you’ve been here, so I trust you. Also means you have the vacation saved up. Go ‘take care of your family’ and make sure you don’t get sick yourself. I can’t have you getting… ‘black death’. Just promise you’ll keep me updated so I know when you’re coming back.”   “Will do! Thanks a lot, Dan!” I cheer, “You really are the man!” I hang up.   “B-b-b-booyah! Who says Gayle doesn’t know how to lie?” I ask the empty room as I pump my fists.   Before my phone has even left my hand, it starts to ring. Aw balls. Well that good mood didn’t last long. It’s Ellen.   I pick up. “Heybabe,I’msorryaboutbefore,” I rush to apologize.   Ellen sighs, “Gayle Gayle Gayle. What am I going to do with you?”   I can’t resist. “Fuck me? I still have that rain check.”   “And there it is.”   “Where what is?” I ask.   “See, you don’t even know it,” Ellen tells me. What is she going on about? Sometimes girls are such a mystery to me. Just say what you mean, dammit.   She continues, “Gayle, sometimes I think you have a one track mind. You never listen to me. How many times have I asked you one simple thing? Don’t call me at work. And you can’t remember that. You can’t remember my birthday. But you remember when I mention sex. That’s the only thing you do remember. I feel like that’s the only thing you ever think about: sex. Sex and running.”   Oh boy, this old chestnut. She had to pick now for this shit. As if my day weren’t bad enough. As long as she doesn’t tell me we “need to have a serious talk about our relationship.”   She’s still going on, “-first time we were in bed you called me ‘Ann’. It’s like you go through so many girls you can’t even keep track. Are you even listening to me? I think I need to come over there and we need to have a serious talk about our relationship.”   Gaaaah. Okay, time to nip this in the bud. “Okay okay, Ellen stop. I love you and you’re absolutely right. But you can’t come over.”   “What?! Why not? I’m already on my way. You have to take responsibility for this,” she yells.   “Baby, you’re SURE nothing weird is happening to you?” I ask. My voice changed again. Shit. I clear my throat.   “Other than you? No. What is going on?” is her response.   “Then you can’t come over. Or if you do, there won’t be anyone here,” I warn her, my voice cracking again at the end.   “Damn it, Gayle what the heck are you talking about? And what’s wrong with your voice?”   I clear my throat again. “Ellen, I’m sorry I called you before, but there really IS an emergency,” I say, my voice breaking again. I don’t bother to try correcting it. I guess this is my voice from now on. “I can’t explain what’s going on. You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you. Fuck, I’m not even sure I believe it. But Steve and I, we gotta get out of town.”   Ellen’s voice raises about an octave, “WHAT?! What’s going on?! Where are you going?! When will you be back?!”   “I don’t know,” I answer, “We just have to get out of the city. We don’t know where we’re going or how long we’ll be gone, but we have to go. I’ll try to contact you when this all blows over,” I promise her. I’m trying to keep strong about this. Crying is for little girls. It’s just not cool. But dammit, I like this girl, even if she can act like a bossy mother hen.   “Gayle, wait! Just wait for me to get there! We can talk-“   “I’m sorry, Ellen,” I interrupt, “I’ll be in touch. I love you.” I hang up the phone.   It immediately starts ringing again. I almost hit “answer”. I want to so badly. Instead, I turn it off.   Shit.   I sigh. As if life weren’t hard enough without this. We’ve got to get out here.   I drop my phone in my pocket and scratch my back again. Something’s going on back there. I make sure my tail is tucked into the leg of my jeans so it’s not showing. I strap on a pair of calf-high boots. I tried regular sneakers, but my paws just kind of slid around in them and they didn’t do dick to hide them. Next, I throw on my favorite hoodie, grab my brown leather gloves and shove my hands into them. I’m going to need them to hide myself. I walk back out into the main room.   I call out, “Hey, pony princess! You ready?”   “Gayle?” he calls back, “Is that you? Your voice. You sound like Gilda.”   “Yeah yeah, I noticed. Now I’ve got an angry, panicky girlfriend rushing over here like a bat out of hell. We gotta get outta here NOW!”   Just then, he comes out of his room. He? It’s hard to tell. I hadn’t really noticed it before, but his face has kind of softened up and he’s starting to look pretty girly. It’s hard to tell beneath the baggy hoodie he’s got on now, but I think he’s lost some weight too.   He looks surprised. “What? Ellen is coming here? Now?” he asks, “Well bloody fucking hell. Let’s skedaddle. Let me start moving my stuff. It’s going to take a couple trips.”   “A couple trips? What’re you taking? Everything?” I taunt him, “Well fine, you start getting it to the elevator, I’m gonna hit the can before we go.”   He goes back into his room and comes out with a backpack and a suitcase. I go into the bathroom and start to do my business. No, I’m not going to describe it, you sicko. I do notice that the fur has spread further up my legs. Then I notice something else feels… different. I look down.   Huh. Well that’s weird. Gonna have to ask about that. Oh, hmm, and that too. That’s even weirder.   I finish up, wash my hands, and I’m back out. I cross over to my room and grab my gear. Steve’s just grabbing the last of his stuff from his room. I have a last minute thought. I grab a piece of paper from the kitchen counter, jot a quick note, and put a piece of tape on it.   Steve’s waiting out in the hall. “You coming?” he nags me.   I follow after him. Just as I’m closing the door, I pause. I open it back up and take one last look at our apartment. It’s funny. I never thought much of the place. It was just a few bland white walls where I came to sleep, watch TV, and store my stuff. But suddenly it feels like I’m leaving a part of myself. When did I get so attached to the place?   “Something wrong?” Steve asks.   “I just got this feeling like I’m never going to see this place again. We are coming back, aren’t we?”   His voice is gentle, “I don’t know. I hope so.” He smacks me on the back with one of his bags, which is surprisingly painful. He’s all cheer now. “If anyone can manage this boondoggle, it’s us. Are you getting sentimental in your old age?”   I close the door and lock it. I stick the note to the door. It reads, “See you, cowgirl. I’m sorry. –G”   “Nah, man,” I smile, “Now, come on, let’s blow this taco stand.” We turn and walk away from our apartment for probably the last time.   We haul our stuff to the elevator, where there’s already a pile of Steve’s other crap. Normally, I take the stairs, but I’ll take the elevator just this once to help him out. But I don’t have to like it. When it arrives, rather than pick everything up, he just kind of pushes the pile into the elevator. Oh, well that works too. On the way down I can’t help but feel cramped. All of the bags don’t help the feeling. I hate elevators. Fucking deathtraps. On the ground floor, he pushes the pile back out and we move everything to the front door. From there, he guards his pile while I make a couple trips to his car to pack it all in. He joins me on the last one, we smoosh the last of it all into the trunk and pile in ourselves, him driving and me riding shotgun. We pull away from the curb and we’re on our way.   Only a block into our journey, and stuck at a light, I see someone hurrying down the sidewalk coming from the direction we’re going. It’s Ellen. I duck down in my seat and hope she doesn’t recognize the car. I don’t want her to see me like this. Plus, long goodbyes are always so awkward, even without the whole “turning into a cartoon” thing.   Steve looks at me quickly. “What’s wrong?” he asks.   “It’s Ellen! Don’t let her see you!” I whisper.   “Oh jeez!” he whispers back, then follows it with, “Wait, why are we whispering? She can’t hear us.”   “Shut up!”   He has to keep at the wheel, but he does sort of turn his head away and shield his face with his hand. When Ellen has passed us, I watch her in the mirror as she turns, ascends the stairs to the front door of our building, and goes inside.   I put my hand on the window. “I’m sorry, baby,” I barely whisper. The light turns green and we start moving. I lose sight of the building as we turn the corner.   “You say something?” Steve asks. He sees me with my hand on the glass and I quickly take it away. “You okay?” he asks. He’s got that pitiful fucking look again.   I sneer at him. “Yeah, I said, ‘Sorry you’re a baby’,” I spit.   He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Christ,” he sighs. He glances at me quickly with a sly look. “Navigator! Lay in the course to our next adventure. Surprise me,” he quotes from our favorite show.   Damn him. Why’s he got to know exactly what to say to bring me out of my funk. I respond, “As you command, Captain!” Wait. Where ARE we going exactly?   “Hey, I thought we were going to stock up on food. We just passed our usual bodega,” I ask in confusion.   “Reach into the back seat and grab my computer bag,” he instructs me.   “You brought your laptop?” I ask in disbelief.   “I am NOT leaving Old Bess behind!” he declares.   “What good is it going to do you out in middle of nowhere?”   He shrugs. “I know. But I suppose it’s sort of like a security blanket. And I’m sure I’ll be able to charge it and get a signal from time to time. I looked it up. A lot of campgrounds have places with outlets and wifi now. But anyway, look in the front pouch.”   I reach into the pouch and pull out a stack of papers. The first few pages are maps he printed from Google and the last couple are a handwritten list: “Rope, twine, fishing line, fishing rod, hooks, sleeping bag…” it keeps going like this.   “There you are, Navigator: your course,” he announces.   I put the bag back in the back seat, then continue to inspect the papers. “What is all this?”   “I recognize the need to get our shopping done as soon as possible,” Steve starts, “while we can still conceal the changes. At the rate this mess is progressing, that won’t be long, so we need to get it done quickly. But, I don’t want to risk running into anyone we know, so our normal grocer was out. I checked around and found an outdoor outfitter store up in Yonkers. Camping, hiking, skiing, that sort of thing,” he continues, making a waving gesture with his hand. “And it’s right next to a Dick’s Sporting Goods and a Whole Foods. Plus, there’s a ShopRite nearby for anything else. It’s perfect. All of our needs centralized together far enough that there’s no chance of anyone knowing us but close enough that we can be done soon. So I mapped us a route th- HEY HOW ABOUT A FUCKING TURN SIGNAL, ASSHOLE!” he interrupts himself to yell at a car that cut us off.   He continues, “Now, you said that you thought this lake was somewhere near Albany and Saratoga Springs. So after we stock up, we’re heading there and I figured we could just drive around a little to see if anything jogged your memory. We need to minimize as many stops, as much human contact, and save as much money as we can, so we’re avoiding any toll roads,” he finishes.   I can see that we’re driving north already, not south, so I comment, “Yeah, but if we wanted to avoid tolls, we should have detoured south and taken the 59th Street Bridge. It’s closer to home anyway. We’re heading for the Triboro.” Sure enough, it’s coming into view.   “True,” is Steve’s response, “but having said all that, I figured that it was worth it to bite the bullet and stop for one toll right at the beginning to be able to avoid Manhattan and cut straight to the Bronx,” he reasons. “Do you agree?”   I hate to admit it, but he’s got me there. “Yeah yeah. What about this list then? What’s all this stuff?”   “I compiled a list of all the things I thought we might need to buy, funds permitting,” he answers.   “A fishing rod?”   “Yes,” he answers, “we don’t know how long we might have to survive out in the wilderness. We’re going to buy a lot of non-perishable food: dry goods, nuts, cereals, jerky for you, etc-“   I cut him off, “What, you don’t like jerky?”   “I’m changing into an herbivore,” he retorts. He rolls down the window. We’ve stopped at the tollbooth. I’ve got to hand it to the guy in the booth. He doesn’t even bat an eye at the freaks with the weird hair and ears. But fuck, then again it’s New York. We pay and continue on our way.   “You can’t eat meat anymore? Dude that suuuucks,” I sympathize with him. “Wait, but I can still eat it? Sweeeet. In yo’ face, bitch!” I poke him hard in the shoulder.   “Ow!” he winces, “Watch the claws there, Simba” I inspect my finger and see that my claw poked a hole right through the gloves. Yikes.   Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m glad you’re so sympathetic. ANYWAY! We’re going to have to ration our food, and supplementing our diet with fresh food is probably healthier too. I should be alright with berries and grass and such, but I thought you might appreciate fresh fish. Hence the rod.”   Fuck, I am impressed. “Jesus, dude. You really thought this all out? That’s kinda pretty amazing.”   “Like I told you,” he says firmly, “I didn’t just drop shit in a bag. I prepared. ‘Let’s go to some lake I only vaguely remember from 10-15 years ago’ is not a plan. THIS is a plan.” He emphasizes his last point by pointing with his index finger.   I hold my hands up in a fake defensive position. “Fuck, man. You made your point. Just take the damn compliment. God knows I’m not going to give you any more for being such a massive egghead nerd.”   “Fine. Jeez. Thanks. Whatever,” he grunts.   “I never knew the P in PMS stood for ‘pony’,” I taunt, “but sounds like you’ve got it bad, Princess Larry.” I know he hates that name.   To his credit, he keeps his eyes on the road, but I can see Steve narrow them and his brow furrow.  He doesn’t say anything. He just lets out a long, slow, strangled sound, like a breath from deep in his throat one step away from a growl.   By now we’re only beginning to make our way through the Bronx. I look over at Steve. He’s mad at me. I check the clock. 6:10. Fuck, this is going to be a loooong trip.   »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»   We made it to Yonkers uneventfully and found that the place we were going was one of those upscale outdoor shopping mall dealies. It’s all cobblestone paths with wrought iron street lights, and a ridiculous amount of fountains.   We got our grocery shopping out of the way easily enough. Steve was still a little unsteady on his feet, errr, hooves, and he was having an even worse time with shoes than I was, so he pushed the cart around to steady himself while I grabbed food. He didn’t talk to me the whole time. He just nodded or shook his head when I picked something. I can’t imagine why he’s so pissed. Wooks wike Chubby’s gwumpy.   I don’t think I’d ever seen so much trail mix before. Pretty much all we bought was dry granolas and cereals and grains and shit, dehydrated fruit, dried meat for me, and just for variety, canned vegetable soup. And of course, a few cases of bottled water. It ought to be enough for weeks. Let’s hope this mess doesn’t take that long.   We deposited our overflowing cart into the backseat of the shitty powder blue Passat and made our way to the outdoor supply store. Now that we’re inside, I’m starting to regret it. The place is pretty upscale. Definitely pricier than we need. We can get anything they have here at the Dick’s for half the price. But that’s not the real problem. I guess they thought we looked like shoplifters because they made us put out hoods down and now people are staring. At least it was just the hood and not the whole jacket. I can feel something on my back starting to twitch and some muscles I don’t recognize spasming occasionally. Hiding a tail down my pant leg is hard enough, but there’s no way this big whatever that’s growing back there would stay hidden in just my t-shirt.   We’re looking at a set of pre-packed camping gear for Steve when some douchey looking guy walks up to us. I mean, I guess he’s pretty good looking, if I swung that way. Decently muscular, blond hair, handsome face, I guess. Most girls would be all over him. But I can tell just from his hairstyle, his shades, and the way he’s holding himself, he’s a real “bro” if I ever saw one. He’s just wearing a tight pink t-shirt, but I’m sure that if he had a collar, it would be popped.   “Hey, ladies. You need help finding something?” oozes out of his mouth. Steve looks like he’s in shock. Oh right, this guy said ‘ladies’.   I try to defuse the situation. “No, we’re cool. Thanks though,” I say coolly and turn away from him.   He’s not taking ‘No’ for an answer. I hear laughing nearby and someone whisper, “Come on, bro!” Ha, I called it. He edges closer and says, “It’s just you girls look like you’re lost. This isn’t Comic Con. But you also look like you like to party. If you’re looking to spend some time outdoors, me and some friends are gonna go out to my dad’s beach house. Maybe you wanna come with us… have some drinks? I never been with one of you furries before. ” At the end there, he’s almost touching us. I can smell booze on him. Fucking frat boys.   Steve’s looking really confused and nervous. A couple people near us are whispering and I can see this asshat’s friends watching us around the corner of a display. I think it’s about time we made our exit. Still, we should try to keep a low profile. “Yeaaah. That sounds like a lot of fun, ‘bro’,” I tell him through gritted teeth, “but we gotta get going now. Isn’t that right, um, ‘Stephanie’?” I start to shepherd Steve away toward the exit.   “Come on, baby, don’t be a bitch,” the guy barks at me, all friendliness gone from his voice. He grabs Steve’s wrist. “Let her answer for herself. I bet she’s just playing shy. What do you s-”   All right, enough’s enough. Fuck low profile. Before the asshole even knows what’s happening, almost even before I know it, I’ve got my left fist up in a defensive position and my right fist in his face. I feel a satisfying crunch as the world famous Griffin Jab connects with his nose. Hoosac boxing club champion, three straight years, yo.   I don’t stay long enough to survey the damage. I grab Steve’s arm and drag him toward the exit, out the door, and away from the store. She’s- He’s struggling to keep up with me, and people are staring at the two freaks running around making a scene, but I don’t stop until we’re inside Dick’s. I pull my hood back up and Steve follows suit. I bring him a cart to push around then walk alongside it, trying to look casual. Nope, no assault here.   We go around doing our shopping, this time not bothered by anyone. Steve still hasn’t said anything, but this time, I think it’s from being in shock instead of being mad. I’m just going down the list and throwing stuff in the cart as he pushes it along beside me in a daze. I’m starting to get worried.   I lean in close to him and whisper, “Hey, you alright? You’re kinda freaking me out, dude.”   He stops, turns his head slightly to glance at me out of the corner of his eye, then casts his eyes downward. “He… he thought I was a girl,” he whispers finally.   I let out a long breath. “Yeah. I know he did. I hate to have to tell you, but you’re really starting to look like one.” I drape my arm around his shoulder.   Steve hangs his head in defeat. “He made a pass at me and I didn’t even feel- Normally, I’d-,” he stammers, “Nevermind.”   I quirk an eyebrow. “Um, okay. I don’t know if this’ll make you feel better or worse, but you’re actually starting to turn into a pretty cute girl.”   He gives me a wry expression. “Until I turn into a pony.”   “Um, right. Until you turn into a pony,” I echo. I take my arm off his shoulder and slap him on the back. “But hey, buck up! Remember: WWAD, bud!” I quietly cheer.   He blinks. “You’re right.”   “I’m always right,” I remind him, “Now come on, let’s finish this and get out of here.”   He starts pushing the cart again and I fall into step beside him. I lean in close to him again and quietly tell him, “And hey, if it makes you feel better, I think I’m in the same situation you are. This ‘Gilda’ isn’t a guy, is it? You sure?”   He shoots me a ‘What the hell are you talking about’ look. “Positive,” he says, “What are you on about? You’re not growing a, um, you know, are you?”   “Not yet,” I admit, “but I noticed something earlier. They were never that big to start with, but my boobs are kinda going away.”   “Oh. I never noticed,” he says distractedly as he picks a sleeping bag and puts it in the cart. “I’m sorry?”   “Eh, don’t worry about it. To be honest, they were just dead weight. I prefer other girls’ anyway.” I lean in again, closer this time, and whisper, “The real weird thing is my cooch is gone too. It almost looks like the front door kinda moved and joined up with the back door.”   “WHAT?!” Steve screams and crashes the cart into a display of fishing gear, spilling rods and hooks and stuff across the floor. I’m so startled by his reaction that I feel the thing on my back jerk and strain against my clothes. A middle-aged man, bald but with a big bushy mustache, looks over at us. He shakes his head and mutters to himself.   “Shhhhut up!” I warn with a finger to my mouth. I quickly throw a rod and a box of tackle in the cart and push it into a nearby aisle with Steve following behind. When we’re secluded, I turn to him, “The hell’s the matter with you?”   “With me? What’s wrong with you?” he chokes, “Your… ahem seriously merged with your…?”   “Uh, I think so.”   “You… you have a… uggghh cloaca?” he says that last word like it’s the foulest thing on the planet. “EWWWWWWWW!” He scrunches his face up, shakes his head, and waves his arms around like a little girl seeing a big hairy spider.   “A what?” I reach to put my hand on his arm to calm him down, but he just pulls away in disgust.   “You know how mammals have two exit ports?” he starts to explain, “Well birds and reptiles only have one. It’s called the cloaca and everything comes out that one hole. It’s one of the most disgusting concepts in all of nature. It’s why I don’t eat eggs,” Steve shudders.   “You eat stuff made with eggs. I’ve seen you,” I accuse.   “Yes, but I try not to think about it. Now come on, I think that’s everything. Let’s pay for this and get going,” he urges. He pushes the cart to the front of the store. We pay for our purchases while the checkout girl looks at us funny. I can tell she wants to ask us what our deal is, but she holds her tongue.   We bring our new gear out to the car and squeeze most of it into the trunk. It doesn’t all fit, so we put some of it in the back seat with the food. For one, we got a nice sized camping cooler which I put some of the bottled water in. Well that takes care of that; all the preparations are done.   We get into the car ourselves and start it up. It’s about nine o’clock and time to start out on the rest of our journey. We drive away from the shopping complex and probably our last taste of civilization for a long time.   /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Ch. 05: Cabin Fever > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff!   Part 1 – Interesting Times Chapter 5 – Cabin Fever (In Which Something Reaches Its Inevitable Conclusion)   “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ‘THERE’S NO CABIN’!?” Steve screams at me and slams on the breaks. The car lurches to a stop in the middle of a lonely stretch of road in middle-of-nowhere-woods, New York. It took about three hours to get up to the Saratoga area. We drove north on the Taconic State Parkway, then cut across a lesser highway to avoid the toll booth to get onto 90. Next, it was up 90 to skirt around Albany, and then a straight shot to Saratoga. Then we started driving around trying to see if we could find the lake where my parents rented the cabin. We’ve been at that for another two and half hours or so. A couple hours ago, we stopped at a rest stop to use the bathroom and grab some snacks. It was midnight-ish so there didn’t really seem to be anyone around, but we waited in the car and watched a few minutes to make sure. When we went in, I had a hell of a time walking because I could barely even stand upright. Steve used the men’s room, but afterward he told me that it looked like it was going to be the “last time it was appropriate”. When we got back in the car, my back was feeling so cramped I just had to take my jacket and shirt off. Turns out I have wings now. That was a shock, let me tell you. I’m embarrassed to admit I kind of freaked a little until Steve reminded me that I already saw that Gilda had wings. Mine were kind of stubby, or at least smaller than hers. Steve said they looked cute. I punched him in the shoulder for that. Also, for sneaking a peek at me in just my bra. Though, I think that may have just been reflex, since my bra is just kinda hanging loose now with nothing to fill it. And he didn’t even have the decency to compliment me, the jerk. I sliced a couple slits in the back of my shirt with my claw (or “talon”, as Steve corrected me). That way I could still wear a shirt but my wings didn’t have to be all cooped up. We were both getting more and more irritated as time went by. Me because I was getting tired, more uncomfortable from sitting in the car seat in clothes that seemed to be getting tighter, and nervous about where we were going. Steve because he’s a big, fat baby. He kept asking “Are you sure you don’t recognize any of the names around here? We’ve seen signs for half a dozen campsites. Surely, one of them has to be the right one.” Eventually, I had to admit to him, “You know that big, beautiful log cabin next to a shimmering lake in woods I told you about? I lied. There is no cabin.” That brings us to now, stopped in the middle of nowhere, Steve screaming, his voice starting to crack up a few octaves, breathing hard, and staring at me with a death glare that could peel paint. “Just what I said.  My parents never took me camping. They’d never waste the time.” “THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING HERE, GILDA!?!” I cross my arms. “Looking for a place to camp out?” I suggest defiantly. He slams the steering wheel, making the horn honk. “Alright, I have had it with you! I am having a terrifically taxing day here and I don’t need you fucking my shit!” “Your shit’s already fucked, dude!” “I fucking know my shit’s already fucked! I don’t fucking need you fucking my shit any fucking further! Fuck!” he rants angrily, poking me in the chest. What do ya know, the kid’s got balls. It only took him losing them to find them. I get right in his face. “And you think mine isn’t? Now you take that finger off me or I will break it off and absolutely shove it up your dickhole,” I growl at him.  To both our surprise, it comes out as an actual growl, more animal than human. He leans back away from me, but keeps scowling. “That’s it. I’m done. We passed a sign for a campsite not too far back. We’ll go there.” He does his “infinite patience” breathing routine a couple times, then hangs a U-ey and we’re moving again. Steve drives in silence for a couple minutes, quietly seething. Finally, he says, “I certainly hope you’re happy. We’re completely lost in Serial Killer Woods with nothing to go on but a lie.” “It’s better than what you came up with,” I argue, “Besides, once we set up camp, we’ll be fine. How we got there doesn’t matter.” “Then why didn’t you just suggest camping without lying?” he asks. He’s really starting to sound like a girl. His voice is definitely higher than it was when we left. “Yeah right,” I roll my eyes. “Would you have blindly marched off into the woods if you knew we didn’t have a specific goal in mind?” He opens his mouth to respond, but then closes it again. He glances over to me. “Yeah, probably not.” “We needed to leave the city and we had no place to go. You didn’t know what to do and you’re the smart one. I knew there were a lot of campgrounds up here. So, I gave us a place,” I explain. “How do you know? You’ve never been up here,” he accuses. I let out a slow breath. “Yeah. I have. That part was true. I did come up here for three years,” I say slowly, “It just wasn’t for vacation. My parents sent me to a boarding school up here. We’re actually only, like, maybe twenty miles from there,” I reveal. “Then why didn’t you just say that?” he asks. “Because! I was embarrassed, alright? My parents sent me away and I’m embarrassed,” I admit.” All Steve says is, “Oh,” and he shuts up. He looks all sad at me again. I hate it. We drive in silence another few minutes, following signs to the campgrounds.  Finally, we get there a little before 3. The first thing we see at the entrance is a rental office. A sign read “Open 24 hours”. “Welllll bollocks…” Steve curses, “We have to pay for a patch of ground? I was hoping we’d be able to just drive up and pitch a tent.” “Guess not. What do you wanna do? Find somewhere else?” I ask. He thinks it over. “Nah... Nah, fuck it. We’ll probably have to pay anywhere and I’m exhausted. Let’s just get it over with.” He looks me up and down and clicks his tongue. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to pass for normal any more. You stay here. I’ll see what I can do.” Steve pops the trunk and leaves the car running while he gets out and goes around to the back. He roots around the truck, and slams it shut again, before coming back to the driver's window. He’s wearing a knit cap down low to hide his ears and the blue nub on his forehead, but it does nothing for the mess of purple and blue hair. "Wish me luck," he says with a shrug before he hobbles his way into the office and out of my sight. All I can do is sit and wait. I don’t like it. I’m a woman of action, so to be stuck waiting in the car while someone else acts rubs me the wrong way. After what feels like either an ominously long or a suspiciously short amount of time, he comes back, spinning a key around his finger. He gets back into the car, grinning at me. “Well that went better than expected. I’m pretty sure the poor guy was sleeping in the back room when I rang the bell; he was so out of it. He looked like he was sleepwalking! I don’t think he even noticed my mane,” he laughs. “I’d bet he doesn’t even remember this in the morning.” Well that’s a relief. “So, what’s with the key?” I ask. Steve starts driving us up the dirt road into the grounds. He looks embarrassed and scratches the back of his head. “Yeah. Um, well it looks like the name of the place isn’t just for show. There actually is a lake here, and they kinda… rent out cabins.” We share a silent look. I quirk an eyebrow at him. “Yeah. Your lie ended up being true after a fashion,” he admits. “I booked us the most remote cabin they have for two nights. At least we won’t have to erect the tent tonight.” He shrugs. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m still pissed at you, but I suppose your heart, if not your head, was in the right place. Um… And I wasn’t acting very Authur-ly. So… I suppose what I mean to say… Err…” he mumbles. “Yeah, yeah. I forgive ya. Just cut the lame, mushy stuff,” I say and give him a punch in the arm to seal the apology. “Ow! I wasn’t apol- What? I was going to forgive you,” he stammers. He rubs his arm where I socked him like I actually hit him hard enough to hurt him. What a wuss. “Jeez… What ever happened to not hitting girls?” she scolds. “That only applies to guys,” I remind her. It takes me a beat to realize what Steve just said and how I was thinking of her- I mean him. “Uh, and you’re not a girl,” I quickly add. He stops the car in front of an ugly, dark wooden building and shuts it off. He turns to me and with a tired look, says, “Well. I guess I’ll just be the judge of that, eh?” With that, he grabs a bag from the back seat and gets out, making his way to the building. I quickly get out and follow after him. “We have this to ourselves? It’s kinda big,” I comment. He turns on me and holds up a hand. “Hey, whoa. Wait your turn,” he commands. “Turn?” He points at a sign between two white doors on the front of building. The paint is chipped and faded, but it reads, “Washhouse” in big, red letters. Sure enough, one door has the men’s room symbol on it and the other has the lady’s. Steve goes into the lady’s room. “Oh. Turn,” I say to no one. Right. Public bathrooms: part of camping I’m not so crazy about. I turn and go back to the car. You know, for being in the middle of a crisis, I’m doing an awful lot of waiting in the car. While I wait, I turn my cell phone on, but I don’t expect much. Hey, I’ve got reception all the way out here in West Bumblefuck. Gotta love the modern age. Jesus. I’ve got twelve missed messages. Oh man, and they’re all from Ellen. The first is from right after we left and she sounds MAD. I won’t go into exactly what she said, ‘cause I don’t want to burn anyone’s ears off. The next few after that, she was still mad, but she started to get more worried. Between 8 and 9-ish, there were a few where she sounded like she’s on the verge of panic, thinking I’m in trouble with the mob or on the run from the police. Then she rolled right back around to furious by 10 with a couple last calls where she accused me of being straight and running off with Steve as my hetero lover. I’m pretty sure she had a couple drinks in her for that one. Finally, there’s one last call from about midnight, hours after the others. The first thirty seconds all I can hear is quiet breathing and sniffling. Finally, Ellen whispers, “Gayle, please,” and hangs up. Well shit. That’s pretty heartbreaking, even to me. I sigh. I can just imagine Ellen using her key to storm into our apartment to chew me out and finding the place empty, then frantically trying to track us down. I can picture her curling up in a little ball on my bed and crying then making that call. Poor thing was probably so worried about me, she probably cried herself to sleep. I can’t just maintain radio silence after that.  My talons make it a little trickier than it used to be, but I send Ellen a text, “im srry again. not in truble but had 2 hide out of city. good reason but cant tell u. safe now. I still luv u, babe.” Hopefully, she’ll see that in the morning and that’ll be enough to keep her from losing her mind. Almost immediately, my phone starts chirping at me. Yikes, I didn’t expect her to see that so fast.  I quickly turn the phone off. Okay, so now what? Jesus, Steve’s been in there a long time. What could possibly be so interesting in the bathroom? Now I’m bored. I may as well get ready for when it’s my turn. I get out of the car, open the back door and start rooting around in the pile of shit back here, trying to find my bag with my bathroom stuff. After some digging around and spilling a bag of cans of soup, I’ve got it. Just as I’ve grabbed my toothbrush, there’s a knock on the window next to me and a girl calls, “Yo.” I shout and jump in surprise, hitting my head on the ceiling of the car. “AH! MOTHERFUCKER!” I hiss and grab the back of my head. “That looks like it hurt,” the girl says. Oh shit, the girl! I spin around to face her and try to explain. It’s Steve. Oh. Ohhhhh. “Jesus fuck! You almost gave me a heart attack, man!” I accuse. “Not anymore,” he responds puzzlingly. “Huh?” “It’s official. I have joined the fairer sex. I’m all mare now,” he- err, she?- shrugs. Huh. How the hell do you respond to something like that? “Um, congratulations?” I offer. She- he?- shrugs again. “So, uh, you wanna talk about it, champ?” I awkwardly offer. I’m terrible at this sort of thing; feelings and junk; even when it doesn’t involve sudden sex changes. “Eh. Que sera sera,” he shrugs up at me again. “Nothing to be done- Did you get bigger?” she interrupts herself. I look down at Steve. I was always taller than him, but now it seems like maybe I’m more so. I kinda figured she had just shrunk. I look down at myself and see I’m pretty much bursting out of my clothes. I look over at the car and judge the height. It seems like it’s a two or three inches lower than it should be. “Hm. Maybe I did,” I admit, “And I thought I couldn’t get any more awesome. You know, you’re looking pretty cute yourself, little girl,” I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “You wanna find out what a wild cat I can be in the sack?” I tease. Instead of the taunt I’m expecting back from him, she just blushes. Then, she looks shocked for some reason and looks away. She isn’t even looking at me when she mumbles, “Just get in the bathroom and go preen your feathers, or whatever the hell it is you need to do.” I stumble my way over to ladies room. I swear to god, I will never understand women. I mean, I am one, so you’d think I’d know how they think, but it seems like anytime I’m talking to a woman, I say something completely harmless and they get all huffy. Steve has only been a woman for five minutes and it’s already happening. Whatever. It’s the- Holy shit, is that me? I’m looking in the mirror, so it must be me, but I can’t believe it. Ohhh, THAT’S what was so interesting in the bathroom. I don’t look anything like myself. Hell, I barely even look human. I turn my head left, then right. Everything is covered in soft, white feathers that only stop at my jawline. From the chest up, my face is the only part that still looks like me, and then only just. My skin has gotten pale, except around my eyes, where it’s kinda a grayish purple. My mouth is weird too. My teeth feel kind of funny and my lips have turned completely yellow and are getting kind of hard. My nose is the same color, and has gotten bigger, spreading downward. Peeling my shirt off, I see that I’m pretty much covered in coarse, tan fur. It’s definitely thicker and coarser than it was when I woke up this morning. Yesterday morning. Whatever. Most of my upper chest is bare, which lets me see that my nipples have disappeared. The hell? “Dammit. I liked those,” I mutter angrily. The fur also stops about mid-bicep all the way down to mid-forearm, where my skin is suddenly the same bold yellow as my nose and scaly. I feel like I’d like a shower, but I decide against it. Even if I weren’t exhausted, we didn’t think to buy shampoo, much less enough for all this fur. And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do for feathers. I don’t even really need the shirt anymore, so I just leave it off. Oh well. I can at least brush my teeth. I squirt the paste onto the brush and have at it. But then I feel something small and hard in my mouth. I spit it into the sink. It’s a tooth. “Oh fuck,” I exclaim. I feel around with my tongue. There’s a gap where one of my canines used to be. That’s why my teeth feel weird; they’re loose. Well isn’t that bitch. I rinse the foam out of my mouth and start poking around. Three more of my front teeth fall out. Shitshitshitshit! Stop that, little guys! Stay in your home! Mommy needs you in your home! The rest are barely hanging in there. My molars seem okay, but no sense in tempting fate. So much for needing a toothbrush. Steve was so insistent on it before we left. That, and a he told me to bring a towel and always know where it was. I have no idea what that’s about. Since everything else seems to be cut off to me, that only leaves me one thing left I can do in here. I drop the teeth in the trash, then hit the can. When I’m done, I wash my hands and head back out to the car. I get back into the passenger seat. Steve is sitting behind the wheel, talking on the phone. “-really can’t tell ya any more th’n that, Mum,” his voice sounds pretty much like what it normally does, except with the hilarious English accent. I barely manage to contain myself as he continues. “Nah, nuthin’ like that. I promise ya ever’thin’s on th’ level. Nuthin’ dangerous.” He pauses. “Muuuum!” Another pause. “Sure, Mum, I know it. I loove ya, too.” Another long pause. “Mum.” Pause. “Mum…. MUM! I’m absolutely knackered, so I’m gunna go. I’ll message ya, when I can.” Pause. “Okay. Loove ya too. Laters. Bye.” ANOTHER pause. “BYE!” Finally, he mashes the “end call” button and lets out a huge sigh. “Mums,” he says, shaking his head. “Hey, I thought your voice changed,” I point out. “It did,” she says, sounding girly again and without the accent, “But you forget, I’m a master of voices. Couldn’t call my mum sounding like this, could I?” Steve starts the car up and we continue down the dirt path. “Why’d you wait until the middle of the night to call her?” I ask. “Ah, you forget the time difference. It was the middle of the night there when we left,” she lectures. “My parents and my little sister are all just getting up about now. I wanted to let them know what was up.” “You DID?” “I left out the specifics. Give me some credit,” she says, sounding offended. “I just don’t want them to worry when I miss my weekly phone call.” The track ends as we pull up to a cute little “cabin”, if you can call it that. “Shack” may be a better word for it. I mean, it’s nice looking. It has a step up to a little porch on the front with a little grill. And it looks like an old-fashioned log cabin and seems sturdy enough. But jeez, I think I’ve crapped out things bigger than this place. We stop and get out. We walk up to the front door and Steve unlocks it. I flip the light switch. I take it back. It’s not small. It’s tiny. Inside, it’s maybe 10 feet by 9 feet; just big enough for a bed on the left, a bunk bed on the right, an AC unit in one of the back windows, and some space to stand or store stuff near the door. “Welp… welcome to our home away from home,” Steve sighs in defeat. He turns around and looks out the front door. “At least it’s secluded enough. We’ll still probably have to stay inside during the day, lest anyone pass by and see us. But at least we’re out of direct sight of any other cabins or tents. We should be able to dash out for a quick trip to the woods without being seen.” “The woods?” I ask with a smirk, “You looking to commune with the nature spirits?” She giggles an honest-to-god giggle. “Of course not. But I don’t think we’re going to be able to use the restroom again and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to try holding it all day.” “Right,” I cough. “I call the top bunk!” I call. “Oh? You feel like roosting, birdy?” She giggles again. I roll my eyes. “Let’s just get unpacking.” I say and start back toward the car. Steve follows me. “Ehh,” he grunts, “we’re only going to be here two nights before we have to get out. Just nab your essentials and some food.” Steve is digging through the trunk while I root around in the back seat. I grab a couple bags and heave them out. Normally they’d be no problem, but I’m a little unbalanced. I get them inside and set them at the foot of the bunk bed. Steve’s just coming back with her second load: his computer bag and some food. “Oh yeah, speaking of food, here’s something weird,” I tell her, “My teeth are falling out.” “What!?” she gasps and whips her head to look at me in horror just as she’s at the front step. She hits it wrong and goes spilling across the porch, scattering packages of trail mix all over. “Ouch. That looks like it hurt,” I sympathize. I help her to her feet, err… hooves. “Your teeth?” she asks in horror. “Yeah. See?” I open my mouth wide to show her my missing teeth. I poke at another canine and the thing just drops out into my hand. “Ah, fuck!” I curse. “Eugh!” Steve groans. Sigh. Guess I better just get this over with. My molars still seem firm, so I leave them alone and gently pry the rest of my front teeth out. Steve looks completely disgusted. “Stop that!” she barks. She takes a step to start picking up the dropped food but winces. “Ahh! Bollocks.” “Y’alright?” “My shin. Or my ankle? Whatever. I don’t know the specifics of ungulate leg anatomy. I wanged this part,” she points to her lower leg, “on the stair pretty hard.” I toss my discarded teeth into the underbrush. “Okay, killer, here we go,” I tease and slip her arm around my shoulder. I help her limp inside. “Let’s get you to bed and mommy will pick up your mess.” Steve collapses onto the single bed like a sack of potatoes with a powerful whump. I go back onto the porch, gather the packages of trail mix into their bag, and bring the rest of her stuff inside, then lock the door. “There, see? All done. That wasn’t so hard, was-,” I turn to Steve, but I see she’s already asleep. “Oh. Okay then. Be that way.” At least there’s one thing she’s faster than me at. I flip the light switch and climb up to the top bunk bed. There’s not much point in wearing a lot of clothes now, especially since they barely fit now. I strip down to just my panties and throw the rest down onto the floor. I lie down and just stare up at the ceiling. Man, what a fucked up day. I can’t believe it hasn’t even been twenty four hours since I woke up and had feathers. It feels like it’s been forever. There’s so much shit going through my head, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sleep. I don’t think I co- ~~~~~~~~~~~~zzZZZZ~~~~~~~~~~~~ I wake up suddenly. It’s not like normal waking up where consciousness comes slowly and I have to shake the fog away. It’s like someone hit my ON switch and my eyes instantly shoot open. Which, let me tell you, is pretty painful when your eyes have just been closed for hours and it’s really bright. My hands shoot up to my face to block out the light and I groan. I slowly take them away to let my eyes adjust. That’s why the first thing I see is my hands. They’re all bright yellow and scaly; full on eagle talons now. Except, you know, with thumbs. It goes all the way up to almost my elbow, where it suddenly changes to coarse, tan fur. There’s no transition at all. It’s like someone just took halves of two different things and just glued them together randomly. Sigh. I guess I’m probably done changing now. I can just feel it. I drop my arms to my sides with another sigh. I just stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling for a minute. I can see those white and purple feathers hanging down like bangs and a yellow thing sticking out in front of my face. Beak? But a minute’s about as long as I can lay there on my back motionless though, because that’s how long it takes me to realize that I’m really uncomfortable. My wings and tail are all pinned and crushed under me and they’re still asleep. I roll over onto my side and look down at myself. My neck stretches around weirdly far. Shit, if I didn’t know what I was looking at, I’d think I was just seeing a lion laying around at the zoo. With big, ol’ wings. Ach. Wings that are now waking up and are all pins and needles. I spread my wings straight out a couple times to try to get regular feeling back in them. Jeez, does that sting. I don’t know how I know how to move these things, but it feels... well... right. Like it’s completely natural. Whatevs. Don’t question what works. Come to think of it, my whole body feels like that. Even though I’m suddenly in the body of a cartoon monster, I just feel a million times more comfortable than I ever have before. It’s like I’ve been wearing a suit two sizes too small or a straightjacket my entire life and I never knew it until I suddenly wasn’t, and only now that that everything feels right did I ever realize anything was ever wrong. I don’t know what that means. Don’t question it. I think back to my dreams from last night. It was more of the same weird fuzzy ones I’ve had since this started. This time it started out with the same shape following me again. It was blue with some more colors on top. Then I feel like it was mad at me and I didn’t see it again. After that was a long string of different colored blobs, and after that a lot of shapes covered in a shiny bronze color. I don’t know what any of that means either. Don’t question it. I turn my attention to the rest of the room. It looks... off. Maybe it’s just because it’s light out now, but everything looks slightly different. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but it seems like everything is sharper. More focused, with brighter colors. It’s like up until now I’d been watching the world on an old standard definition TV and suddenly everything’s high def. I wonder why that is. No, don’t think about it. Don’t question it. There’s no point in worrying about any of this stuff. I’m more one for action. So it’s time to get moving. I look down across the room at my partner in crime. He’s all bundled up like a burrito, facing away from me, so all I can see is his purple and light blue hair. Sleeping like a baby. Not for long. I’m gonna get him up and we’re going to make a plan of action. Okay, first step is getting down there. I drag myself over to the ladder down. Hmmm. This might be a problem. I probably shouldn’t have picked the top bunk before learning how to work my new body. I swing my legs around to the edge and carefully lower them onto a lower rung. I take my time, but I get down the ladder pretty easily. I guess that’s not so different after all. Except now I’m at the bottom and I have no idea what to do now. I release my death grip and immediately fall on my ass. Oww, fuck. I think I bruised my tail. Shit, that smarts. Okay, keep moving forward. I try to stand up, but it’s not working real well. My body just doesn’t want to stand on two legs. Instead I try all fours. Ohhhhh! That feels much better. I guess this is how I’m supposed to walk now. On four legs. Like an animal. Sigh. Wait, but my hands are still hands. I still have two arms and all, so it’s not really four legs. So I’m supposed to walk on my ha- No, stop thinking about. Don’t question it. Trying to walk like this is weird and I’m definitely not used to it yet, but I slowly and shakily slide my way to my clothes bag and grab a change of underwear. I shimmy out of the old ones and squeeze into a fresh pair. Then, I push myself along the floor the few feet over to the other bed. I climb up and stand over the person sleeping in it. I take a deep breath and, “SKREEEAAAAWWWWWW!” “WAKE UP, LAZY BONES!” I follow up, as if the sound of a giant bird screeching in his face weren’t already enough of an alarm.   Her yellow-green eyes shoot open and the second she sees me her pupils are pinpricks. She starts thrashing around, trying to kick me off, the whole time shrieking like a little girl, “Ahhhhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhhhhhh!”   Well that wasn’t the reaction I was looking for. I fall back off the side of the bed onto my ass. Ow! Fucking tail again. She’s backed up against the wall and still screaming at me. This has to stop. I shift into a sitting position, hold my hands up in a hopefully non-threatening way, and say as calmly as I can, “Whoa, there. Calm down. It’s just me. Eeeeasy now.”   She stops screaming and just sits flattened up against the wall with her hand to her chest, panting. After a little bit, her eyes seem to actually focus on me. She swallows and gasps, “Gayle?”   “Jesus, I’m sorry, dude,” I apologize, “I didn’t mean to scare ya. I just woke up and said to myself, ‘Time to wake up that lazy bones and figure out what we’re gonna do.’ I wasn’t trying to give you a heart attack.”   She relaxes a little. Then it’s like a floodgate opens up and her face breaks into a furious scowl. “God damnit, Gil! You almost fucking killed me!” she yells and punches me in the shoulder.   “Jeez! I said I was sorry, lazy bones. I was just trying to play a little prank,” I say. She doesn’t have to be such a baby about it.   “What the hell did you think was going to happen!? I was going to wake up with a giant predator screaming in my face and I was just going to turn a deaf ear and laugh it off!? I’m a prey species now! Like, instincts or something. I thought I was going to be eaten,” she continues to rant.   Then, as if she’d never been mad at all, she blinks her eyes a few times and cocks her head. “You keep calling me “lazy bones”, she says, more a question than a statement.   “Huh, I guess I do,” I agree.   “Uhhhhhh… why?”   “I don’t know,” I admit, “You’re always sleeping and I needed to wake you up. Seemed like the thing to call you. That’s what people call lazy people.”   “No one has used that expression in, what, sixty years and you just suddenly start using it?” she asks doubtfully.   “I don’t know. It just came out. It felt right. I don’t know what to tell ya,” I shrug.   She looks thoughtful. “Hmmm. Maybe it’s like how I keep calling you ‘Gilda’. Crap, I think ‘Lazy Bones’ may be my pony name.” She wipes her hand down her face. “Awwww, that’s awful.”   I laugh. “I don’t know, I think it’s perfect for you, Lazy Bones.” I make a “come here” wave and say, “Now come down from there and let’s have some breakfast.”   Lazy Bones slides down to the edge of the bed and carefully stands up. She’s still walking on two legs, but the rest of us aren’t so lucky.  She grabs the bag with the food in it while I stand and kind of slide my feet along the floor to move. Lazy holds up some packages and opens her mouth to talk when all of a sudden,   KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! “Hello?” a man asks, “Is everything alright in there? We were passing by and we heard screaming.”   Fuck and goddamn! Our first day out and we’re about to get found out already. What are we going to do? Lazy will know; she’s smart. We both turn to each other. Her eyes are wide in panic and she mouths at me, “What’re we gonna do?” Shit!   I mouth back, “I don’t know!” I start looking around wildly to look for an answer. It’s just lucky we have the shades down.   “Hellooo?” the man asks again.   Oh man, are we fucked. I’m about ready to bust out a back window when Lazy speaks up, “Uh, we’re all fine in here! Thanks for asking!” She sounds mostly like her old self. Anyone who knew her would be able to tell the difference, but for some random asshole putting his nose where it doesn’t belong, she sounds like a regular human guy.   “Are you sure?” asks the man, “We heard screaming.”   Man, just go the fuck away. Lazy Bones answers, “Yes. All good. Thank you. Good bye!”   “Well, alright then,” he says slowly. It sounds like he’s gone. Thank god.   Lazy Bones and I look at each other and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.   “Hey!” the man calls again. GODDAMIT, leave, motherfucker! “You want some food? My friends down a couple cabins just fried up some lunch. If you open up, I can give you some if you want,” he offers.   “No thank you,” Lazy Bones answers, annoyed, “We’re not decent. We’re in the middle of something if you know what I mean… Right, honey?” She looks at me, pleading with a “go ahead” gesture.   Oh. Right. Here I go. “Uh, yeah! We’re gettin’ real busy right now! So go away!” I shout in my  deepest voice. Lazy facepalms and lets out a hard breath.   “Ohhhh. Okaaaaay,” the man trails off. This time we can hear him walk off the porch and away.   Lazy peeks out the blinds. “There he goes.” She sighs then she wheels on me. “You’re a fucking idiot.”   “What?”   “Could you have been more obvious? And what was with that voice?” she demands.   “I thought that’s what we were doing.”   “He’s going to think we’re two guys fucking in here, Smarty Arty Orange,” she berates.   “Well,” I pause, “better than him thinking we’re a pony and a, uhh, griffon.”   “Touché,” she chuckles. I start to laugh too. Then we’re both laughing long and hard and it feels good. We both trail off and Lazy mutters, “What a fucking situation this is.”   Just then, my stomach growls and I remember I’m absolutely starving to death.   “Uh oh. We better get some food in that thing before you decide I look tasty,” she teases. “Heads up!” She takes a couple pieces of jerky and tosses me the package. I raise an eyebrow at her. She shrugs. “What? This may be my last chance to eat meat. I’d prefer a corned beef sandwich, but I’ll have to take what I can get and keep a stiff upper lip.” I don’t have anything to say to that, so I just take a few strips myself. We sit and eat our lousy breakfast or lunch or whatever of dried meat, granola, and water. I’m more focused on eating than talking, Lazy tells me about a weird dream she had last night.   It was nighttime and the moon was all big and yellow with a big goofy face. Its mouth opened up and a ladder dropped down. Then, a man came out and the face on the moon disappeared. He climbed down the ladder, introduced himself as the Man in the Moon, and flew away.   I really don’t give two shits about hearing other people’s crazy dreams, so I concentrate on eating with my new mouth. Luckily for me, I still have my back teeth, so I can still chew. I don’t want to think about what it’d be like if I only had a beak.   A beak… That makes me think about how I’ve changed. I wonder what my face looks like. I swallow a handful of bland, dry granola. I clear my throat. “Hey Lazy...”   “Don’t call me that,” she spits.   “Huh? But that’s your name,” I say in confusion. Seriously, man. Girls are crazy.   “Allegedly. Even if it is, I don’t like it. It sounds like you’re insulting me when you say it,” she grumbles.   “Um, okay. How about Bones?” I offer.   She sighs. “Fine.”   “Okay then, little miss snippy,” I roll my eyes, “if you’re done with your little fit, you mind telling me how I look?”   “How do you mean?” Bones asks.   “Like, I’m pretty sure I’m done changing and I can’t see myself. I’m just wondering what I look like,” I explain.   “Oh! Hold on a tick!” she exclaims. She goes to the door and cracks it open. She peeks out. She looks back at me. “I’m going to grab a bag from the car.” With that, she rushes out to the car and starts digging through the back. Meanwhile, I shift into a different sitting position.   Bones rushes back in and locks the door. She opens her bag and hands me a hand mirror.   “Why would you even have this?” I ask.   “As I’ve said, I’m prepared for whatever may come,” she reminds me.   She says something else but I’m not listening anymore. I’m too hypnotized by what I’m seeing in the mirror. I look just like the picture Bones- I mean Steve- showed me back at home. My head is a different shape than it used to be; kinda long; and completely covered in the white feathers, except for big patches around my eyes, where they’re purple. And oh my god, my mouth. Or really, my beak. Kids used to make fun of my nose by calling it a beak, but this is ridiculous.   “Hold this,”  I command Bones and shove the mirror into her hands. I shuffle backwards and try to get a look at what I look like as a whole. “Oh. My. God. I look…”   “Oh Gil. It’s not so-”   “AWESOME! I mean, look at me! Look at my face! And these claws! And my wings!” I spread my wings. They almost touch both walls. Bones looks surprised and a little intimidated. “I look like a total badass! I feel like a total badass! I’ve never felt better in my life, and that’s saying something since I was pretty fucking amazing to start with.” “Okay, okay.” Bones tries to calm me.   “No, seriously. I feel amazing!” I keep going, flapping my wings, “I have so much energy I want to go out and run a marathon! I can’t even walk right now, and I don’t know how running on my hands is going to work, but I’ll figure something out because I’m Gilda, certified asskicker, and I feel great. I feel like I can feel the air. Everything looks sharper and colors are brighter. ” I realize everything I’m saying is true.   “That may not be your imagination,” answers Bones, “You do have literal eagle eyes now. Though, I don’t know why it would have taken so long for them to kick in. Your eyes changed first. You’d think improved eyesight would start at the same time.”   I’m about to respond, but she continues, “And while I’m on the issue, how can you even talk with a beak?”   “Huh?”   “Well, I mean, you don’t have lips. How can you speak normally? Beaks aren’t flexible enough to allow speech.”   I try to answer but she just keeps on going, “And another thing; your lower half, where your reproductive system is, is mammalian. Why would your genitals be avian based? It doesn’t make sense. And then-“   “OKAY!” I stop her. “Unless you’re planning on giving me a more in-depth look, that is ENOUGH about my genitals. And THAT’S what doesn’t make sense? You’re cool with the made up badguy magically changing us into characters from a cartoon, but my beak is just too far?”   “Now just hold on a moment,” she argues, “We don’t know for sure there’s any magic involved. As far as we know, magic doesn’t exist.”   “Ummm….”   “Yes yes, I know,” she waves me off, “But something scientific is a much more reasonable explanation. Some sort of advanced gene therapy or retrovirus or nanotech. Something along those lines could change us. The only reason I’m even considering the possibility of magic is the dreams. I don’t know that genetic engineering could give us basically the same dream.”   “Um, can’t you test it? Can’t ponies do magic?” I ask.   “Just unicorns,” she answers.   “And that’s not what you are?”   “No, I am. Or I will be? I guess I am sorta already.” She’s rambling again.   Bones drops her head and runs her hands through her messy purple and blue hair. “Oh, this would be easier if you knew anything about the show.” Then she looks back up at me with a manic look in her eye. Uh oh. I know that look. “Oh ho ho… And you’re trapped in here with me. Oh, you are getting a crash course in all things Equestrian, my feathered friend.”   Oh jesus, here we go. The fucking dweeb king- err queen- is back in control. She grabs her computer bag and whips out her laptop. She pushes me back onto the bottom bunk bed and plunks herself down next me.   “Is this really necessary?” I ask and roll my eyes.   “You have to admit, the subject is kind of in your wheelhouse now. It may be helpful to know,” Bones answers.   I give an exaggerated sigh. “Fiiiiine. But just one thing first.”   “What’s that?”   “You never answered my question,” I remind her.   “Huh?”   “’How do I look?’”   Bones leans back and looks my up and down. I get the feeling she’s really looking at me. She has this intense kind of look on her face that’s both interested and confused. Finally, she answers, “You look good, Gilda. You look like… you.”   I lightly chuckle at that. I think that’s a pretty high compliment.  I spread my wings. “So are you going to teach me how to fly too?” I ask.   “Don’t be silly,” she scolds me, “Despite what you may see on the show, griffon and especially pegasus wings are too small to realistically be able to provide enough lift to allow them to fly.”   “Awwwwwwwww,” I pout. What a fucking a gyp. At least they look awesome.   Bones opens her laptop and logs in. Her desktop wallpaper looks like some old turn of the millennium default wallpaper with a green hill and a blue sky. Except that it looks like a blue pony with wings and a rainbow tail has crashed through it. “Hey! It’s Dash,” I point out.   Bones turns to me with a suspicious look. “I thought you didn’t know anything about the show.”   “I… I don’t,” I mutter in confusion. Suddenly two puzzle pieces come together. “I think I’ve been seeing her in my dreams.”   “Really?” she asks in surprise, “But that would mean th- No. Not going to question it. Let’s just get started.”   »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»    Other than a bathroom break, where we took turns standing lookout, we spent the rest of the morning and the beginning of the afternoon with Bones teaching me about the ponies. Unicorns, pegasi, earth ponies, princesses, Elements of Harmony, etc. We watched a couple episodes of the show, including the two with me in them. Um, I mean, with the real Gilda. I have to admit, I- she- was a real bitch in the first one. But I’m glad she redeemed herself and made up with Dash in season five.   Right now, we’re watching the last episode. It’s pretty fucking grim. This Discord motherfucker is a real piece of shit. He’s just zapped Twilight into dust and now he’s gloating about it. The screen turns black and the credits roll. Wait. It seems like there should be something more there.   I turn to Bones. “Didn’t you say there was another scene where Gilda and her squadron from the Cloudsdale City Guard fight Discord?”   “What? No,” she answers, looking confused herself. “No, there was supposed to be a scene where he’s just rampaging through Manehattan. This file must have cut out the last scene. Where’d you get that other idea from?”   Where did I get it from?   “Well I never told you that,” Bones says. Shit, was I thinking out loud again?   “Okay, what’s next?” I ask.   Bones flexes her fingers. “Ehh. My hands are a little sore from all of this typing. My fingers are getting stiff and I’m kind of tired. I think I’m going to take a nap.”   “But we just got up a few hours ago!” I point out.   “Yeah, but I’m a growing pony. I needs mah beauty sleep,” she says. I can actually see her eyelids getting droopy. She crosses over to her bed. “You can use my computer and keep learning about the show or go clop or whatever. Knock yourself out.” She lays down and closes her eyes.   “Really, Bones?" I ask in annoyance.   She doesn’t answer.   “Don’t think you’re fooling me this easily,” I warn her.   Still no answer.   “Don’t you fucking ignore me,” I grumble.   She snores.   Oh. She really is asleep. Damn, this girl is a world champion sleeper.   I sigh. Well I think I’m good on watching cartoons for a while. I set the computer aside, careful not to close it. She never told me her password, so I wouldn’t be able to log back in. I have something more important to learn: walking. I never went a day without taking a run since I was in a training bra, until yesterday. And now I’ll be damned if I let a little thing like not knowing how to walk stop Gilda from doing what she loves.   I drop down onto the floor and stand on all fours. Okay… relearning to walk. Here we go. First step: the first step. I pick my hand up off the floor, slowly move my arm forward, and place it back down. Alright, that wasn’t so hard. One down, infinity more to go…   »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~» I spent a while relearning how to walk. It was tough at first and I fell over a lot, but I did it. Then I moved on to running. It’s kind of difficult to practice moving around when you only have about ten steps to work with, but I made due. Then I spent a while surfing the net. Thank god for wifi out in the boonies.   At one point that same asshole came back and knocked on our door, asking about joining him and his friends for dinner. The noise didn’t wake Bone up. Didn’t even roll over in her sleep. So I just kept quiet and let the guy think we were out. If this guy is going to be super nosy like this, it might be a good thing we’re out of here after tonight.   I’m just about to start watching yet another cat video when Bones wakes up. She lets out a huge yawn and smacks her lips. I can see her face is starting to change shape, like into a muzzle or something.   “Ehhhrrm, morning,” she greets me.   “It’s, like, seven at night, Lazy.”   “Whatever,” she sniffs. “I had another really weird dream.”   “Uh huh,” I mumble, not really listening.   “We were standing by a road,” she starts. Oh jeez, here we go again. “I don’t think it was a bus stop because it didn’t seem like it and it was in the middle of nowhere. But it must have been because we were standing there and a bus stopped. The door opened and Iron Will was driving. Remember? That’s the minotaur,” she reminds me.   “And we got on and the Flim Flam Brothers were on there and greeted us,” she continues, “And Trixie was there, and a Diamond Dog, and that dickhole dragon from Dragon Quest, and some parasprites. With them and you there, it was like the official minor villain cross country tour.”   “That’s amazing,” I moan, completely bored. “Now get up. We’re eating some dinner and then we’re going out,” I order.   “Out?”   “I’m gettin’ antsy cooped up in here. We did what you wanted to do, so now we’re gonna do what I want to do. And I want to go for a run,” I tell her.   Bones gets up and we share another boring meal of dry fruit and trail mix and shit. I’m beginning to wish we’d bought more jerky than we did. Bones says it’s not sitting well with her, so I guess that’s more for me later.   But that’s not the worst problem she had. When trying to open a package, she found out her fingers getting stiff earlier wasn’t from using the computer. Her hands are finally turning into hooves. They still look like hands, but they’re starting to turn blue and she can barely move her fingers. She can sort of use them like hooks, but she made a real mess all over.   Now we’re fed and I’m ready to get my run in. Bones grabs a book, then we make sure the coast is clear and we make a break for the cover of the woods. I’m finally steady as a rock, but Bones is even shakier on her hooves than ever. Because of this, the going is slow, but I help her along until we’re pretty deep into the forest. We stop in a large, roundish clearing. We shouldn’t be found so far out here, especially now that the sun is setting.   Bones sits down on a log and I start stretching my legs. “How far are you planning on running?” she asks me.   “I dunno,” I respond, “I feel like I could run thirty miles.”   “Well maybe you should just run laps around this clearing,” she suggests, sounding worried, “If you go off, then we’re separated and you could get lost and I’m by myself in the middle of the forest and-“   “Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down,” I calm her. “That’s what I was planning anyway. Why would I bring you out here and then immediately leave you?”   “Oh, okay…”   “Ha, you’re scared of the woods!” I tease her.   “No, I’m not!” Bones argues.   “Oh ho hooo! You’re totally fucking scared! Wittle baby Larry scared of da big bad woods!” I taunt.   “Sh- shut up!” she shouts.   “What? No witty comeback?” I jab.   “Yeah, I’m scared! Okay!?” she admits. “I’ve never been camping before. I’ve lived in cities my entire life. I’ve never been this far away from civilization before! And now I’m transforming and my hands don’t work and I can barely walk and it’s getting dark and I don’t want to be here all alone!” she sobs. She sits there, panting.   “Oh. Okay, jeez, sorry,” I half-heartedly apologize, “I didn’t know it was that big a deal.”   “’salright,” she sniffs. She wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Stupid female hormones…” she mumbles more to herself than to me.   “Um, well, okay then,” I say awkwardly and scratch the back of my head. “I’m gonna get started. You gonna be okay here?”   Bones holds up her book and nods at me.   I jog over to the tree line and do a couple more stretches. I glance back over at Lazy Bones. She’s already reading, a small light in one hand, lighting the page in the soft glow. I take a deep breath, and then I’m off. At first, I start off slow to get a feel for my new body; my stride, my gait.   After I’m pretty sure I’ve got a good feel for myself, I pick up the pace. Time to test my limits. I break out and push myself as fast as I can run. I can feel my muscles burning and heart beating and my blood pumping, and the dirt beneath my feet, and the wind in my feathers and fur.   I feel alive. I love running because it’s when I feel the most… everything. When I’m cutting loose and giving it my all, going as fast as I can, that’s when I feel really alive. It’s like all the rest of the time I’m asleep, and when I’m going fast is the only time I’m awake. I really do feel the need for speed. I’m not sure if any of that makes sense or if I can really describe it at all. I guess all I can say is this: when I run, I’m ME. More me than any other time.   But despite all of that, right now, running as fast as I can… I feel like I could go faster. I’m pushing my legs to their limit, as fast they can carry me, but I still feel like it’s not enough. Don’t get me wrong, I still feel amazing. It just feels like I’m stuck in first gear.   I look over at Bones. Her book is in her lap and she’s watching me in awe. When she notices I’m looking, she quickly turns her attention back to her book. Even from this far away and with almost no light, I can see she’s got it upside down.   Eventually, I slow down. I’ve tested my limits, now it’s time to just pace myself. I just need to keep my blood flowing and burn off my extra energy. I don’t know how long I’m at this. It could be five minutes or five hours. I’ve lost all track of time. I go into a trance and just run.   “Hey Gil!” Bones shouts and brings me back to my senses. “Why don’t you call it a night?”   I slow down and trot over to her. “How long was I going for?” I ask.   She checks her phone. “About an hour and a half. It’s nine o’clock.”   I look up at the sky and sure enough, the moon is out. I whistle. “It doesn’t feel like it. I feel like I could go another hour and half at top speed.” Don’t ask how I whistled. I’m not sure. Apparently I can. Whatevs.   “Well, why don’t we pack it in and head back and you can do three hours tomorrow?” she offers, “I’m getting cold and creeped out.”   “Yeah, okay,” I give in. “Just let me cool down first.”   I walk around and stretch a little bit to cool myself down. Bones is still sitting on her log watching me. I walk back over to her and plop my butt down beside her. We sit in silence, Bones thinking whatever it is that Bones thinks and me just letting my heart slow down. I look up at the sky.   “Moon’s big tonight,” I comment.   “Waxing gibbous,” she replies.   “Huh? Wax gibbons?”   “No. Waxing gibbous,” she corrects me. “It just means the moon is between half and full. I think it should be full tomorrow.”   “Whatever you say,” I shrug. After a few seconds I follow up, “It’s pretty.”   “Yes, I suppose it is,” Bones agrees, “And there are so many stars. I’ve never really sat and stared up at the sky like this. You never really get this sort of view in the city.”   “Nope.”   We sit in silence and look at the sky another couple minutes. Then a shadow flies in front of the moon. At first I think it’s a bat, but it’s way too big. And definitely the wrong shape.   Bones and I quickly turn to each other. “Was that?” I ask.   Bones confirms it. “A pegasus!?” /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Interlude - Profiles in Ponytude 1 - Gilda > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Interview 1 - Gilda  *Begin recording*  Von: Is this thing on? *tapping noise followed by silence* Von: Welcome, one and all to the first of a series of interviews in which we’ll get to know our heroes better. My name is Von Snootingham and here with us today is our good friend, Gayle. *BAMF!* Gilda: What the hell is this? Where am I? Who the fuck are you? Von: I’m the author. Gilda: You’re about to be a grease spot. Von: Okay, okay, simmer down. I just want to ask you some questions so we can get to know you. Gilda: I just answer some questions and I’m out of here? Fine. Von: Okay, we’ll start basic. What’s your name? Gilda: Gayle Griffin. Von: Noooo, Gigi… what’s your name? Gayle: *subject sighs* Gilda Swiftwing. Von: Very good. Was that so hard? Gilda: Don’t ever fucking call me Gigi again! Von: Ooo, touchy. What’s your occupation? Gilda: I was a personal trainer, but I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get back to that. You know, because of the ponies. Von: Quite. So then. Did you ever watch My Little Pony before this series of unfortunate events? Would you consider yourself a “brony”? Gilda: Hell no. I’m not a little prissy girl or a huge dweeb with no life. Von: Excuse me, but I resemble that remark. Moving along, when is your birthday? Gilda: May 3rd. I just turned 25. Von: *Interviewer whispers into microphone* Heh heh. We knew that. Gilda: Huh? Von: I said “Height and weight”? Gilda: 6’ 2’’and none of your damn business. Or at least that’s how tall I was. I’m a little bit four-legged now. Von: Well I think you may have packed on some weight. Last time I measured, you were just over 300 pounds. You’re only about four feet tall, but from beak to butt, you’re now 6’ on the dot. Another three feet if you count the tail. Gilda: THE FUCK? You’re measuring me!? Are you touching me in my sleep, you creep? Wait. That seems kind of light for my size. Von: Must be those hollow bones. You’re a griffon, friend. Next question: What’s your blood type? Gilda: How should I know? Who cares? Von: Got it. O positive. What’s your favorite food? Gilda: Ooo, a nice juicy steak. Rare. Von: I’m not partial to steak myself. Favorite drink? Gilda: Beer. Lots of it. Von: How pedestrian. Alright then, what’s your favorite color? Gilda: Red. *Pause* Von: Just… red? Don’t want to expound on that? Gilda: It’s red. What’s there to know? Von: Well there are so many different shades! From the dark, coppery crimson of blood, to a bright, cheery “light-ish red”, to a deeo, mysterious maroon. I’ve actually noticed the way you describe colors in your narration. Or rather, how you don’t. You call Lazy Bones blue and her mane purple and light blue. Gilda: Yeah? Von: But that doesn’t tell us anything! I’d call her coat more an ultramarine. Navy blue if you want to be more basic. Purple and light blue? Try royal indigo and periwinkle! And your feathers. Once again, you just used “purple”. I’d say they were a lovely shade of wisteria! Von: You’re weirdly obsessed with colors. Von: You were better with eye colors. You said yours were golden yellow and Lazy Bones’ were yellow-green. Golden was apt for yours, but for hers, I’d say chartreuse. My favorite color! Which brings us back to the point! Care to be more precise on your favorite color? *Silence* Gilda: Red. Von: Fine. Be that way. I’ll just spruce up your flagrant anti-color bias in the future. Gilda: You know you’re the only person in the world that cares about that, right? Von: Nonsense! The people reading this right now are enraptured! Gilda: Reading right now? What? You’re… not right in the head, are you? Can I go? Von: Oh, but we’re not done! Next question: If you could pick three songs to be the soundtrack of your life, any three songs that best represent you, what would they be? Gilda: Um, okay. Three songs? I think it’d have to be, “You’re the Best Around”, “I’m Too Sexy, and… umm…. Let’s seeee… the theme from Rocky.” Von: Aeeenhhhhh! Wrong! Gilda: That’s what I pick. Von: And you picked wrong. The three songs that best depict who you are:  first, “Her Smile In Every Summer” by Hot Freaks. Gayle: Never heard of them. Von: Second, “Let’s Go On”, from the contest scene in the game Rhapsody. Gilda: I don’t know what that is. Von: And last, the Taichi Master Remix of Fly Away from Eureka Seven. Gilda: You’re making these up. Von: Not at all. Here listen to them. *Recording stops, then resumes* Gilda: What the shit, dickweed? You’re making me sound like a pussy. Von: I just call ‘em like I see ‘em. I think they’re perfect. Especially in regard to the time you- Gilda: Shut up, ass! Von: But I was going to tell them about how your p- Gilda: Shut your face! “Tell them?” Tell who? Von: Fine. Be like that. Little miss grouchy pants. Fine then, next up: tell me a favorite childhood memory. Gilda: I was never a child. Next question. Von: Someone’s touchy on her past. Okay, then how about the present? Name one hobby. Gilda: Kicking weirdos’ asses. Von: You are a broken record, aren’t you? Be serious now. Hobby? Gilda: *Subject sighs* I like to work out. I like to go fast. I used to run all the time. Man, I thought that was good. I had no idea. After I met Steve, I tried to get him to get off his ass and work out, but he wouldn’t do it, no matter how much I shouted. I told him how people pay fifty bucks an hour to have me yell at them to get them to exercise and I was giving it to him for free. He just said he wanted to make a return. Von: Ha ha, that’s adorable. You two sound like an old married couple. Next up, if you could meet any one person, past or present, who would it be? Gilda: Ugh. This question? Isn’t this, like, the oldest, boringest question that people ask in interviews? Like, when they’re not creative and have nothing better to ask? Von: Ad hominem. Gilda: What did you just call me? Von: That doesn’t mean what I think you think it means. Your answer? Gilda: Fuck, I don’t know. Who cares? Um… Jesse Owens. Von: Hm, nice choice. If you could have any one super power, what would it be and why? Gilda: And that’s the other lame question they always ask. Super speed. So I could kick your ass faster than normal. Let’s wrap this up. Von: Hmph. I DID have over a dozen more questions, but I guess we can just do one more. Okay, hmm, let’s see. What’s a good one? *Interviewer smacks lips several times.* Oo! Here’s a good one. Who was your first kiss and what were the circumstances? Gilda: WHAT!? Now you’re over the line, fucker! I hope you weren’t too attached to your teeth. Come here! I’m g- *Sound of table being flipped* *BAMF!* Von: Whoa. That was close. Okay, well that didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. But tune in next time and hopefully the next interview will be a little less… ridiculous. I may have to rethink the whole process and make some changes. I don’t think I have an ungodly number of author notes this time, so you can just go about your business. Thanks for reading. *Recording ends*     Name: Former: Gayle Griffin Current: Gilda “the Griffon” Swiftwing H / W: Former: 6’2” / She’ll never tell! Current: 4’ (height) 6 (length) / about 300 lbs Coat Color: Tan / Sepia feathers on wings Mane Color: (Feathers) White / Wisteria Eye Color: Golden amber Cutie Mark: None Blood Type: O+ Birthday: May 3, 1995 Occupation: Personal Trainer Brony: Fuck no Favorite Food: Steak, rare Favorite Drink: Beer Favorite Color: Red. Just red Songs: Subject’s picks: You're the best Around (Joe Esposito) I'm Too Sexy (Right Said Fred) Gonna Fly Now  (Theme from Rocky) Author’s pick: Her Smile in Every Summer (Hot Freaks) Let's Go On (From the game Rhapsody) Fly Away(taichi master remix)  (Eureka Seven) Meet One Person: Jesse Owens Super Power: super speed Hobby: exercise Childhood Memory: question evaded First Kiss: question evaded > Ch. 06: Because I Got High > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff!   Part 1 – Interesting Times Chapter 6 – Because I Got High (In Which Surly Bonds Are Slipped)   Is that a pegasus flying over head?   Bones and I turn to each other, our jaws hanging open. Wait, do I even still have a jaw? Maybe just her jaw and my beak, or- Gah! Not the time! Focus, Gayle! I mean Gilda! I mean Gayle!   We both look back up and spot the flying shape again. Its gotta be a pegasus. I jump up and together, we both start yelling up at it.   “Hey you! Hey, pony! Hey! Hey!”   “Ho, the pegasus! Hello up there!”   The flying shape slows down to a hover and looks like maybe it’s looking around. Shit, it really is a pegasus! Bones and I look at each other again, then look back up and start screaming and waving like crazies. I jump up and flap my wings wildly.   “Come on, you! Down here!”   “Look! Here we are!”   The pegasus turns its head in our direction and it suddenly stops moving completely. Its wings freeze up and it starts to drop out of the sky. Then, just as quickly, it starts flapping again, even harder than before, to stop its fall. Once it’s stable, It angles the rest of its body in our direction and holds out its wings to glide down to us. The whole thing screamed "amateur".   I turn to Bones. “What was that about wings being too small?” I ask smugly. I look back up at the approaching pony. “Can’t fly, my ass.” Bones just snorts.   The pony lands in front of us, looking more excited than a kid on Christmas. It’s a little hard to make out details in the low light, but I’ve got pretty good night vision now, so that helps. He’s a he for a start. At least, from the, like, maybe seven episode I saw, he looks like a guy pony. His hair and tail are short and spiky and bright orange; the color of a, well, an orange. His hooves are the same color, but his coat is a golden yellow. And he’s wearing a backpack. I guess it doesn’t fuck with his wings. Anyway, he’s dancing around too much to get any better a look than that.     “Oh my god! Holy cow you guys, I can’t believe you’re here! I thought I was the only one, and I had no freakin’ idea what was going on, and I was the only person this happened to but you’re here so I’m not alone in this trainwreck, and you- oh hey you’re a mare you’re looking pretty good, baby, you wanna- oh man look at you you’re a griffin, they make em big nowadays, huh, oh my god, are you Gilda? You are! It’s an honor to meet you, I’m a big fan dude!” The guy spewed the entire rant in one long breath and now just stands there panting. “Wow, you’re quieter than on the show, huh?” he follows up. I blink. I blink again. My brain is trying to catch up to what I just heard.   “Did you catch the number of that freight train that just went by?” Bones asks from beside me. I look at her and she looks just as stunned as I feel.   I turn back to the Pegasus. “You wanna run that by us one more time?” I ask.   He takes a deep breath.   “Slowly,” I add.   “Sorry,” he apologizes, “It’s just that I transformed into this and I thought I was the only one in the world. But when I saw you I knew there were more ponies around and I wasn’t the only one. Well… pony and griffon. It’s just a big load off my mind.” He sighs in relief.   His eyes light up and he fixes them firmly on me. “So are you really Gilda? Did you guys come over from Equestria? Did Twilight accidentally miscast a spell and that’s why I changed and you came to get me?” he asks excitedly, his wings shooting out.   I clear my throat. “Um, yeah, I’m Gilda. But I’m not, like, the real Gilda. We turned into this, just like you did,” I explain.   The pegasus visibly deflates, his ears folding back and his wings drooping down to the ground.   Bones stands up. “I’m not even done yet. See?" She holds out her arms.   The pegasus cocks his head. “Oh hey, you’re not. I was done when I woke up yesterday morning. You look like you’re pretty close, dude. I don’t recognize you from the show, though.”   Bones slaps her palm to her forehead. “Doh jeez!” she exclaims, “We never introduced ourselves. I’m Lazy Bones, and this is Gilda.” She gestures at me.   I give a little wave and a, “Sup.”   The pegasus looks between us, confused. “Lol. You’re calling yourselves that?” he asks.   I try to ignore the fact that he actually just said “lol”. “My real name is Gayle, and she’s Steve,” the pegasus looks surprised by that. I continue, “but for some reason the mindfuck we’ve got going on has us thinking by our, um, pony names. So we’re just been going by those. So, who’re you?”   “Oh yeah. I’m Dave,” he says.   He doesn’t seem like he’s going to expand on that, so Bones asks, “Just Dave?”   “Dave Watson? I don’t think I have a pony name,” he shrugs.   “Trust us. You have it; we just don’t know it yet,” Bones reassures him.   “So, if you’re just normal bronies like me-”   “I’m not!” I interrupt. “I couldn’t give two shits about that show.” Bones rolls her eyes at me. “Really? Was that helpful?” I hold my talons up in defense. “Hey, we just met this guy. I don’t want him thinking I’m as lame as you.”   Dave looks back and forth between us. “Okay. Um. So if you’re just normal people like me who got changed, you don’t know what’s going on either?” he asks.   We take seat and spend the next few minutes explaining to Dave what we know. That it started the second we turned twenty five (big surprise; he just did too, the day before me), and that we think that there may be a real Discord out there who’s caused this, though Bones still doesn’t want to admit that. Another big surprise: Dave had the same kind of vision. And that we felt a strange connection to each other even before this started, which could mean that there were more random people turning into ponies out there.   “So, how’s about you?” Bones asks Dave, before yawning, “What’s your story?”   Dave shrugs, or at least as much as a pony can shrug. “Not much to tell, man. I was working, tending the plants. Oh yeah, I didn’t say. I run a greenhouse.”   “So you’re, what, some sort of gardener?” Bones asks.   “Yep! Best crop east of the Hudson,” he answers.   “Hey, we’re from New York too,” I interrupt.   “That’s cool. So, I was working in my growhouse and same thing happened to you happened to me.  Started to change a few days ago, freaked out. I thought maybe I’d accidentally, like, eaten some.”   “Eaten some what?” Bones asks.   “Of the crop! Keep up,” Dave says and stomps a hoof in annoyance.   “What do you grow?” Bones asks, “Organic lettuce and heirloom tomatoes and the like?”   “Nah. Pot,” Dave says casually.   “Pots of what?” Bones questions, “Like, potted flowers?”   “Nah, dude. Pot. You know, weed,” he says like it’s the most natural thing in the world.   Bones and I look at each other, then Dave in disbelief. “You’re a drug dealer?” I ask, stunned.   “Nyaaa,” he waves me off. “I don’t sell it. I just grow it. I got a knack for it, you know? Just the right amount of light from the UV lamps, not too much or too little water, time it all right… What can I say? I have a gift.” He shrugs. “My boss pays me, I grow it, he takes it. It’s just like any other job.”   I scowl at him. “Yeah, and I bet you take some free samples for yourself, you stoner.”   Dave looks honestly offended. “What!? No way, José! What are you, nuts? I’d never do that crap! What am I, stupid? That stuff’ll mess you up. I’m super scared of getting The Fear.”   “The what?” Bones blurts out.   “The Fear, man! The Fear!” Dave cries, “When you take drugs and you get all crazy and paranoid and scared and you cook a baby in the microwave!”   I shake my head. “You’re an idiot.”   “Or, I’m just so smart you think I’m an idiot!” is his response. “I’m too smart to risk The Fear, dude. I’ll stick to growing, thanks.”   The three of us sit and look at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. Then, Dave seems to remember what he was talking about before we got sidetracked, “Oh, so anyway, I was kinda  freaked for a while, but then everything seemed okay until the next day. When I woke up I, well, you know. I freaked all day and hoped it was temporary or it was all just a dream or, I don’t know what. But then the next day it was worse. You’ll never guess what I did,” he says with a goofy giggle.   Bones sighs and rolls her eyes. “You freaked?” she answers, sounding more tired than amused.   “You’re damn right I did!” Dave shouts. “So, like, I spent most of the day like that, but I realized I had to get out because my bosses were going to come over eventually and see me and then I’d be F.O.R.”   “F.O.R.?” Bones asks.   “Fucked over royal! Come on!” Dave explains, like everyone should know that. He continues, “If my bosses saw me like this, they’d have sold me so fast yer head would spin. Then, I’d be all chopped up in a lab somewhere.”   “That’s what Bones here said,” I say and wave my head at her.   “Yeah, you’re like me. You know the truth. I mean, I want to find out what they’re doing in Area 51 or Hangar 18, but not like that,” Dave smirks.   “Whoa, hey now,” Bones waves her hands, “I just said the government or some science lab would want to study us, not that there’s some big, sinister conspiracy involving some shadowy extra-governmental paramilitary organization. Don’t lump me in with you nutters chasing Big Foot and little green men or trying to disprove the moon landing.”   “Hey, my friend knows a guy who talks with someone online who saw the moon landing set. The truth is out there, man! Whatever,” Dave shakes his head and continues, “Anyway, so I shoved some shit in a couple bags, waited until it was dark, and borrowed my neighbor’s car.”   “Borrowed? Sounds like you stole it,” I accuse.   “Nah, man, ‘sall good. She said I could borrow it in emergencies, and this def qualifies. I just haven’t brought it back yet,” he tries to reassure us. “But I only got, like, an hour or two away before I got too tired to drive, so I stopped at a motel. The car’s still there.”   “You just left someone else’s car at a random motel?” Bones asks in disbelief, then yawns. What’s with her being so tired? It’s just weird.   “Well duh! When I woke up the next morning; that was yesterday; I didn’t have hands anymore, so obviously I couldn’t drive it. I gotta explain everything to you?” Dave lectures.   Bones just sighs and rubs her face with her hands.   “So yeah,” Dave continues, “I’ve been hoofing it since then. Get it? ‘Hoofin’ it’!” He giggles again. “Spent yesterday and last night tromping through the woods and taking naps. Tried to stay out of open areas, or at least hurried across them. Then last night, I accidentally found out I could fly and I covered a lot more ground,” he rattles off like finding out you can fly is the most normal thing in the world. “Went to sleep about dawn, slept all day, woke up, took off, flew some, heard two people yelling at me, landed, started talking to them, told them what I’ve been doing, and stopped talking.” He stops talking. Now he’s just looking at us.   Okaaaay… This guy confuses me. Bones just yawns. “If I may ask, where are you heading?” she asks.   “My sister’s place up in Vermont,” Dave answers, “I been there before. She’s got a big house all to herself. Wooded backyard. I figure I can hang out there ‘til this thing blows over.”   “How did your sister react to the news that you were turning into a Technicolor pony?” Bones wonders.   “I dunno. Guess we’ll see,” Dave shrugs.   “You haven’t told her yet!?” I gasp.   “Nah. But she’s cool. She lets me pretty much get away with whatever, so I figure I can just drop in and it won’t be too big a deal,” he tries to reassure us again.   It doesn’t work. “I would think ‘I turned into a pony’ would be the situation in which you’d want to announce yourself ahead of time,” Bones says.   “Alright,” Dave rolls his eyes, “you two are so smart, what’s your master plan? I’ll just come with you.”   “Um, yeaaahh. About that…” Bones squeaks.   “We maybe kinda have nowhere to go,” I chime in, embarrassed.   “Ha!” Dave barks, “I win!”   “It’s not a contest,” Bones scolds, but then asks, “How long would it take to get to your sister’s by car?”   He rubs his chin with his hoof. “Hmm… I’m not sure exactly where we are right now, but I’ve got this, like, crazy pegasus sense of direction now, so I can make a guess from how far I’ve gone so far. I’d say it’s, like, 100 miles or so, so maybe two, two and a half hours.”   Bones looks like she’s made up her mind. “Alright, I propose a merger. You have a destination. We have a faster, safer means of transportation. I suggest we join forces. We ponies have got to stick together, and all that.”   I turn to her. “What? You want this loser hanging around?” I ask in disbelief.   “Hey!” Dave protests.   “Not now!” Bones barks at him.   “Mommy and daddy are talking,” I dismiss him. He “hmphs” and crosses his forelegs.   “I say fuck ‘im. We don’t know this douchenozzle. He already seems like trouble,” I whisper to Bones.   “I agree with you he’s unseemly. But you must admit we need a place to stay and after tonight we’re homeless,” she argues, her voice also a whisper.   “Yeahhh…” I admit.   “He’s got a place to stay, we don’t. It’s as simple as that. And presumably his sister is still human, so we’ll have someone on our side that can actually go out in public,” Bones reasons.   “Okay, okay,” I give in.   “Plus, come on. We just happen to run into another pony out in the woods? What are the odds? I say this is providence,” she says with authority, “This is some serious shit we’re in. We ponies- and griffons- need to stick together no matter what.”   “Alright already! You convinced me,” I loudly whisper. Oh wait. Ohhhh, I think I know what’s going on here. I give Bones a sly look. “I getcha. You just want Mr. Pony to stick around. You switched sides along with your sex. Someone’s got a cruuuuush.”   For a split second, Bones simultaneous looks surprised, embarrassed, and disgusted. She quickly turns to Dave. “Yes. Well. Now, we’ve rented a cabin for the night. You’re welcome to stay the night with us and we’ll set out by car in the morning.”   Dave furrows his brow and says,“I got bad news for ya, babe.” Bones looks like she’s just tasted something awful. Dave continues, “You’re not going to have hands by morning. How you planning on driving?”   I cut in, “If you hadn’t noticed, I DO have hands, so there you go.”   “Oh yeah, a griffon driving around in broad daylight. That’ll go over real well,” Dave snarks. Yeah, because that’s what I need; sarcasm from this assclown.   I’m about to tell him off, but Bones sighs and says, “Fine. We’ll wait until nightfall, then we’ll set out tomorrow evening.”   “Why not right now? It’s dark now,” Dave argues.   “Because,” counters Bones, “we already paid for the cabin. We’ve been awake all day and we’re exhausted.” What? She slept all day and she’s the only one who’s tired. I’m fresh as a daisy.   “Actually-”   “We’re BOTH very tired,” Bones hisses at me through gritted teeth. Yeesh, what bug crawled up her cooch and died? They’re both acting like little bitches.   “Yeah, well,” Dave whines, “I feel fine and I think we should go right now. We gotta keep moving, sweetheart.” He cocks his head at me. “Whatsa matter, Gilda? Your master here don’t let you speak for yourself?”   Alright, that fucking tears it. I’ve had it with this little shit. I, in my infinite generosity, offered this dick the privilege of tagging along with us. You try to help a guy out and he throws it back in your face. I spring to my feet, snarling. He cowers backward.   “Jesus fucking Christ!” I shout, “We were trying to do you a goddamn favor, cockbite! But now the deal’s off the table. You really want to walk a hundred miles? ‘Cuz now you have to! Lots of luck to ya!”   I turn away from him. “Come on, Bones. We’re outta here,” I command. I start to storm off.   “Wait!” Dave calls after me. I stop, but I don’t turn around. “Do you have food?” he asks. What? Wow, this guy does NOT get it.   “Yes, we have plenty,” Bones answers from where she hasn’t moved. I glance over at her. She’s wearing the most devious shit-eating grin. “All of it griffon-tested and pony-approved. Weeks and weeks worth.”   I look at Dave. He’s practically drooling. Ohhh, I see what’s going on here. She’s got him right where she wants him. “Okay. Sure, fine, whatever,” he quickly agrees, “We’ll do it your way; just please let me come with you. I need real food.”   I walk back over to him and Bones. She asks, “Didn’t you pack any food?”   Dave furrows his brow. “I thought I was only going to be driving, like, six hours!” he says in huff, “I wasn’t expecting a week-long nature walk. Plus, I had to leave my other two bags in the car. All I got left to eat in here,” he throws his head back, gesturing at the pack on his back, “is my last bag of Funyuns and some Red Bull.”   Bones and I look at each other. Her “eeEUUugh” expression mirrors what I’m feeling perfectly. We both shrug, silently agreeing he’s just pathetic enough. I scoot over next to Dave and slap him on the back. “Okay, sonny, you’re official. Welcome to Team Gilda.”   Bones rolls her eyes, then yawns. “I’m too tired to even argue that name,” she mutters. “So yeah, about names.” Dave mumbles. “You said I’m probably going to get some pony name, even though my guy wasn’t on the show?” I can actually see the transformation as Bones goes into lecture mode. “Well, technically speaking, you already have a pony name. We’re just not aware of it yet. The mental aspects of this transformation are insidious in their subtlety. You don’t even realize anything has changed until someone else points it out to you.” “Um. Okay.” Dave looks about as lost as, uh, a first grader in a rocket science class? I’m not good at analogies. Bones looks thoughtful for a second, then suddenly shouts, “Dave, quick! Answer as fast as you can! What’s your name?” “Dave Watson!” “How old are you?” “Twenty Five!” “What’s your favorite color?” “Green!” “How many inches in a foot?” “Twelve!” “Elvis or Beatles? “Beatles!” “Boxers or briefs?” “Boxers!” “What’s your name? “Sunny Daze!” “There you go,” Bones says smugly and crosses her arms. Dave looks absolutely baffled. “Holy crap, how’d you do that? So wait, my name is Sunny Daze? Weird.” Bones stands up. “Okay, now that we’ve got that settled, let’s go back to the cabin. I’m so tired even that rock-hard mattress sounds like heaven right now.”   “Shit. Don’t remind me,” I moan, “Those beds are awful. I was all sorts of numb this morning.”   “Why don’t you just sleep on-” Dave- err Sunny starts, but interrupts himself, “Oh, that’s right, you haven’t-” If this were a cartoon, a lightbulb would have just appeared over his head. “Oh man, just wait ‘til you- You’re not gonna beli- Hold on! I’ll be right back!” He holds up a forehoof like he’s trying to do a “one second” gesture, but it doesn’t really translate without fingers. Suddenly, he jumps, and with a mighty flap of his wings he zips straight up into the air.   Bones and I just stare at him in awe. “That doesn’t make sense!” she whines, “He shouldn’t be able to fly. How is it possible?” I just thought he looked amazing, but I guess she was thinking something other than “awe”.   I wave my hand in a throw away gesture. “I dunno. Magic?”   She gives me a dirty look. “I thought we agreed we were going to assume more rational theories before resorting to ‘magic’.”   I roll my eyes at her. “Whatever.”   Finally, Sunny glides back down to us. It looks like he’s holding something between his front hooves. He sets the thing on the ground, then lands. Wait, it’s floating just over the ground. Is that…?   Bones’ eyes narrow, “WHAT is THAT?” she growls, her voice barely containing a simmering rage.   I inspect it. It’s round-ish. It’s white. It’s fluffy. “It’s a cloud!” Sunny confirms.   “NO!” Bones erupts. Her face is all twisted up, left eye twitching furiously. She looks like she’s about to have an aneurysm. “NO! That’s not possible! How is that possible!?”   Sunny nudges the thing and it moves a couple inches. He shrugs. “Magic?”   “GRAAAAHHH!” Bones screams “There! Is! No! Such! Thing! That CAN’T be a cloud!” She paws at it with her palm and it goes right through. She looks astonished. She turns and points her hand at me. “You! You do it!”   I reach out and poke the cloud with one finger talon. It doesn’t go through…   Holy shit, it feels amazing! I push on the cloud with my whole palm and my hand sinks in lightly. It’s so cool and soft and has a lot of give and just a little bit of firmness. I press the cloud between my hands. It feels like squeezing uncooked biscuit dough. I don’t want to let it go. If this is possible, then…   My face is absolutely lit up in complete joy and Bones’ is the exact opposite: stunned horror. “But. But. But,” she stammers, “But that can’t be. That’s not how physics works. You can’t just… Physics… How…?” she trails off and slumps to the ground. She brings her hands up toward her face and breathes in deep, but she doesn’t say her mantra, instead just letting out a shaky breath.   “Bones. Oh my god, Bones, holy shit,” I chatter excitedly, “I gotta go up there. I can fly. You saw him. If he can do it, I can fly too. I can feel it. Oh my god, Bones…” the thought it almost too much to keep in. “I- I’m gonna do it,” I tell her and start wildly swinging my wings around, flapping them every which way.   She’s just looking at the ground in shock, but then her eyes catch my pleading gaze. Almost imperceptibly, she gives me a tiny nod. “Ten minutes,” she whispers. I let out a whoop, leap straight up, and start flapping my wings with wild abandon.   …I instantly fall back down straight on my ass. Sunny is watching us both with a goofy smile. “Nah, Gilda, you got to flap them in sync. Push down on the air as hard as you can, right when you jump. Like this,” he instructs. He leaps into the air and then hovers there. “Then you just gotta keep ‘em synced and you got it.”   I raise my wings straight up to try again. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My legs are coiled like springs until I let loose and leap with all my strength, simultaneously bring my wings down as hard as I can. I open my eyes. I’m not on the ground, maybe 15 feet in the air, but I’m falling fast. Instinctively, I throw my wings out beside me and they catch the air, starting me gliding downward. I flap them again and I shoot back up. I flap again and I’m in the treetops.   I... can fly. Holy fucking fuck! I CAN FLY! I keep pumping my wings and I let out a primal roar, crying my ecstasy to the sky.   I look down at the other two. Sunny is standing there grinning up at me like an idiot. Bones is still slumped up next to her log seat, but she’s staring up at me. Even from this high up, I can make out the expression on her face. It’s awe, bordering on worship, and why not? I’m a fucking goddess. I’m why cavemen painted on walls. I’m the most beautiful fucking creature in the entire world, finally let loose from my bonds and allowed to fly free in my natural element like I’m supposed to. I am Gilda.   Right now, I’m just hovering in one spot, but with some experimenting with tilting my body and angling my wings different ways, I figure out how to move around in the air. Sunny comes up and joins me, giving me some pointers. I start off with some slow laps above the edges of the clearing, mirroring my run from earlier, just to get my bearings. Sunny flies circles around me at first, literally, the whole time giggling like an idiot, and it’s a little annoying. But pretty soon, I’ve gotten the hang of things and the tables are turned and he can barely keep up with me.   Now it’s time to really open up and see what I can do. I start climbing, heading north-northeast. Don’t ask me how I know the direction; I just do. Sunny’s following behind me. We’re thousands of feet up now and he’s looking pretty nervous and he shouts something at me. With the wind rushing in my ears, all I can make out is, “-so high! We should-“   I don’t know what he’s saying and I don’t care. I feel more exhilarated, more alive than I ever have before and he’s barely an afterthought in my mind. I pick up the pace, climbing even higher. Sunny slows down to a hover, falling behind. I keep increasing my angle until I’m flying straight up, then I’m doing a flip and my aerodynamics or whatever are all screwed up and I lose lift. I catch myself with my wings, and for a split second, I’m weightless. Then I tuck them tight against my body, pointing myself back groundward.   I’m shooting back toward the earth like a bullet, faster and faster. I scream past a terrified looking Sunny, who has to dodge to avoid getting clipped. I even get a yellow feather in my face for my stunt. This feels familiar. The roar of the wind is deafening, my eyes are watering from the speed, and the ground is getting closer and closer. The sea of treetops is coming fast, and at the last second, I flare my wings and pull up, turning my velocity into forward speed.   The countryside flies by at a blinding rate. Literally. I’m going so fast, even with my super eagle eyes I can barely see anything before it’s already past. I let out another roar or pure bliss.   This… This is what I was meant to do. I always thought I loved to run because it made me feel so great. But now I realize that it didn’t. Not really. It’s just that it was the closest I could come to flying, and I didn’t know it. To say that running made me feel good is like a person saying that raisin bread is delicious when that’s the only desert they’ve ever had and they don’t know they’re missing three layer fudge torte cake.   I don’t know if that makes sense. Probably not. There’s not really any way to describe it. I just feel too amazing right now. I’m speeding along, I’m howling at the moon, the wind in my feathers, pumping my wings as hard as I can, feeling the muscles burn so good. I just feel so… I can’t. There are no words. I can’t even think right now. My brain is going into overload. I’m… just going to ride it.     »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»   Eventually, I come back to my senses and realize I should be heading back. I don’t know how long I’ve been flying around up here, but it’s probably longer than Bones’ ten minutes. It feels like it’s only been a moment, but oh, what a moment. I soared and dipped and looped and banked and corkscrewed. I even did a barrel roll. I basically tore the skies over upstate New York a new asshole and made them my bitch.   But now I lazily make my way back to the clearing where I left Bones. Somehow I instinctively know where I’ve been and how to get back to where I started. I spot the opening in the trees and glide in for a landing. I don’t see Bones at all. I see Sunny laying against the log in the middle of the clearing, looking up at the sky, and he’s got another pony with him. The hell? Did he find another pony?   I land right in front of him and he motions for me to be quiet, gesturing at the pony sleeping against the opposite side of the log.   “’Bout time you finished,” Sunny whispers.   “What do you mean?” I whisper back, “How long was I up there?”   “Few hours. It’s midnight.”   Crap, that’s surprising. I guess time flies when I do. Yeah I definitely think I may have missed Bones’ ten minutes by a little bit. She probably got tired of waiting and went back on her own. But then who’s this new pony? “Who’s your friend?” I ask Sunny, pointing at the new guy.   “Whatcha talkin’ about? She’s your friend, not mine,” Sunny answers.   My friend? But that means… I flap a couple times and leap over the log. Sure, I could have just walked around, but walking’s for chumps when you can fly. I may never walk again. Anyway, I take a closer look at the sleeping pony. My special eyes let me get a good look, even in this low light. She’s a navy blue unicorn with purple and light blue hair and tail, practically drowning in  poorly-fitting guy’s clothes. Holy shit, it’s Bones.     I look over at Sunny. Before I can ask, he says, “Hey, I don’t know. I was flying around trying to follow you, then just trying to find you. When I came back, she was like this. I guess she fell asleep and then finished changing while we were up there.   I inspect Bones again. Her hair is ridiculously curly and messy, she’s got these little blue freckles all over her face, and she’s got the most peaceful look on her face as she sleeps. She’s actually really cute. Um, for a cartoon pony, I mean. Hoo boy.   “We should go back,” I tell Sunny. He nods and stands up. Hmm, I don’t want to wake Bones up and make her learn how to walk just so she can go back to sleep. Instead, I gently slide in next her and try to roll her onto my back. Sunny sees what I’m trying to do and helps out, to his credit. Eventually, I’ve got a sleeping unicorn safely (but not prettily) sprawled across my back and we’re walking through the forest back toward our cabin.   When we get to the edge of the woods, I suddenly stop and hold out an arm to catch Sunny. He turns to me and opens his mouth, but I stop him by putting a finger to my beak. We wait there a minute, listening, and me scanning for people out in the open. When I’m satisfied we’re clear, we rush the door to the cabin. I turn the knob, but it’s locked! Shit and goddamn! Oh right, Bones had the key, it’s probably in her pocket. As gently but quickly as I can manage, I fish through her pockets for the key. I find it and pull it out just as I hear a branch snapping up the path, then another. Someone shouts, “Oh hey, is that you, neighbor? Glad I finally caught ya!”   SHITSHIT! It’s that nosey asshole again! Why now? I fumble with the key (stupid fucking bird talons!) trying to get it into the keyhole. Sunny is looking at me like, “Come on, hurry the fuck up!” I swear, it’s like every horror movie I’ve ever seen. Finally, I get the door open and we practically fall inside, slamming and locking it behind us.   “Hello?” the man calls. I don’t think he saw us.   “Sorry! We’re very tired! Good night!” I yell back.   “Oh, okay,” he says suspiciously, “Good night.” I peek out the shades and see the guy standing by our car, just looking at the cabin with narrowed eyes. He looks into our car window, then turns and walks away.   I let out the breath I was holding. Whew, that was close. I walk over to Bones's bed, pull down the sheets and manage to kind of dump her onto it. Then I pull the sheets over her. See? I can put a friend to bed when they’re out of it too. Who says I’m not the nicest fucking person ever?   Sunny’s standing there, looking awkward. “So are things always this interesting around you people?” he asks.   I roll my eyes. “Top bunk’s mine,” I tell him. I flip the light switch and with a couple beats of my wings, I’m up to my bed.  Ha, who needs a ladder? Sunny’s rolling around, making himself comfortable, but as soon as my head hits the pillow and my eyes close, I’m out.   ☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁   I’m in a big room made of clouds, filled with pegasi: the staging area in the Cloudsdale City Guard headquarters. I look down and see my silver armor and my spear in one hand. In front of me is my unit, twenty hard-flanked pegasi decked out in bronze armor polished to a shine. To our left and right are a number of other units, my fellow lieutenants in silver armor and their subordinates in bronze. The troops are all looking at a pegasus over to my right in gold who’s giving a speech, the Captain-Commander. This is it. The big one.   Captain-Commander Storm Shield finishes his big, inspiring speech and everypony cheers. He asks, “Now, are we going to lie down and let this monster destroy Cloudsdale!?”   Everypony answers in unison, “NO, COMMANDER!”   The Commander asks, “Or are we going to protect our home and buck his sorry flank back to Tartarus!?”   “YES, COMMANDER!!”   “Now let’s go get this son of a hydra!” Storm Shield roars.   The collected Guard lets out a cheer that shakes the cloud floor. The Captain-Commander turns and says something privately to his Captains, who then split up and come to us lieutenants. Captain Spring Breeze gathers me and four other lieutenants. “The Commander wants to stress that this is a top level operation,” she tells us seriously, “Defense of civilians is to take priority over attacking the target. There’s going to be a lot of carnage and confusion out there. Tempers are going to be taxed to the breaking point. It’s up to you to keep your units together. A unit that loses discipline and lets its feelings take control is a liability. Do you understand?”   “Yes, Captain,” we respond in unison.   With that, we take our positions and our units take their spears in their mouths and stand at attention. The lieutenants about-face just as the clouds that make up the wall of the room parts to reveal the cloud city and the night sky. One by one, each unit marches to the edge of the room and leaps out, flying toward the battlezone.   My unit is one of the last to leave. As we fly toward the far end of the city, everything is chaos. Even though it’s night, it’s oddly bright. The moon is brighter than it should be, but that’s not it. There are flashes of bright light all over the city and here and there are clouds actually on fire. A good part of the city has been changed to cotton candy. Another part is something else pink and fluffy, but the ponies there are rolling around itching uncontrollably. I see a hole where a building used to be and look down. Way down below, I see it. It looks like it changed into stone and fell all the way to the ground, where it shattered. I hope the ponies in there got out.   And oh, the ponies. Some seem like they’re unchanged, but who knows? Some only look changed a little. Turned all grey, or wings three times too big or small, maybe some donkey ears here or there. There’s a pink, fluffy pony that looks like it’s made of the same cotton candy as the clouds dancing around in the wreckage of the rainbow factory. But then there are the bad ones. I see a little mouse with regular sized pegasus wings, flying around confused. Here and there are Earth Ponies clinging desperately to benches or streetlights.  Or at least they look like Earth Ponies. I’m afraid they were pegasi whose wings were taken away. I hate to take a detour, but we were told defending civilians came first. We pick any up any of these ponies we find and bring them safely to the ground.   Then we see something really nasty. There’s what looks like a pegasus, except it’s turned completely inside-out. And worst of all… it’s still moving. One of my troops breaks rank and vomits.   Eventually, we arrive at the site of the battle, if you can call it that. The entire Cloudsdale Guard has been deployed to fight a single enemy, and we’re losing.   Even though most of the other guardsponies got here before us, I can’t see very many of them. There are some armored pegasi scattered around, but there’s not a single other unit even in sight, much less running any regular attack pattern. There are flashes of magical light blinking all around, probably the monster working his chaos.   I turn around and address my unit. The expressions on their faces look like we’ve already lost. Time to work the old Gilda charm. “Alright, colts and fillies, this is it. This is what we’ve been training for. I know it seems like the odds are against us, but this plothole’s never seen US! By the time we’re done with him, he’s going to beg to be turned back to stone! Now, let’s go show him why we’re the best!” My little speech seems to lift my ponies’ spirits and we fly toward the enemy in the distance with a mighty battle cry.   We’re charging the spirit of chaos himself, Discord. Jeez, he’s an ugly bucker. Being a griffon, I’m used to two very different types of bodies in one. But this guy takes the cupcake. It looks like he stole something from every kind of creature in Equestria. His grey horse head attached onto his long brown body and arms from a- HOLY BUCK! Suddenly in a flash, he’s right in front of us!   Oh look what we have here,” Discord snickers, “new toys for me? I promise not to break them this time. And look at this one! A pretty little bird.” He guffaws loudly. “She looks lonely. Let’s give her some little birdy friends.” He snaps the fingers on his lion paw and there’s another bright flash. “Oops! I think I broke them! What ever will you do now?” he asks. l look down at myself, but I’m okay. I look back to check my unit.   They’re gone.   Great Garuda… They’re not gone. Half of them are still there, but he’s… he’s changed them into birds; little chickadees and woodthrushes and mockingbirds in little suits of bronze bird armor. They fly around in confusion, and then scatter. I…   But what happened to the other half? I look around, and finally see them below me. They’re still ponies, but they’re falling and screaming! He took their wings! I grip my spear in my beak, tuck my legs and wings and break into the fastest dive I can, dive-bombing to catch my ponies. I catch up to the closest one, Twinkle Hooves, and in one smooth motion, tuck her close to my chest without coming out of my dive. I veer over to the next pony, Cumulo Stratus, and nab him in the other arm.   I dive for the ground as fast as I physically can, only pulling up at the last second; cutting my speed enough so that when I drop my two soldiers they may have a rough landing, but should be okay. Then I’m flapping for all I’m worth and speeding back up like a firebat out of Tartarus. I grab Bright Eyes and then change directions. Three down, seven to go. That’s when I realize something horrible.   I’m not going to be able to catch them all.   But, I’ve got to try. I streak down after Drizzle Drops, trying to reach her before she hits the ground. I inch closer and closer, but I’m not gaining enough speed to be able to catch her in time. She’s flailing and screaming and reaching up for me, a pleading look in her eyes. I keep reaching for her as long as I can, longer even than I should without risking crashing myself. But there’s not enough time. I’m only a few hoof lengths away from her when I have to veer up. I look away, but I can hear it. My ponies’ screams suddenly stop and there’s a series of loud, wet bangs.   I pulled up too late myself, and end up grazing the ground, having to roll into a controlled crash, losing my spear. Bright Eyes and I roll to a stop and I let her go. “Are you okay?” I ask her.   She looks at me, but doesn’t answer. She looks like she’s in shock. I look around and what I see is terrifying. It looks like my unit isn’t the only group Discord did this to. Oh Garuda, the ground is littered with-   No, don’t think about it. I spot Twinkle and Cumulo wandering around in a daze. Cumulo looks like he’s trying to flap wings that aren’t there anymore. I don’t feel much better. I’m pretty battered from the crash, but it’s not my body that’s hurting the most. My unit was twenty strong, proud pegasi. I knew them. They had lives. They had families. Double Time dreamed of being a Wonderbolt like her brother. Rumbler was being inducted into the palace guard in Canterlot next month. Wind Shear’s wife was having a foal soon. Now, they’re gone. There are only three left. Three and me. My despair starts to give way to anger. My temper begins to come out. My temper that, once upon a time, drove me away from my nation, my clan, my younger sisters. My temper that lost me my one and only friend, the mare I secretly loved. I never got to tell her. My horrible temper that sent me into a downward spiral of drunken ciderhouse brawls, petty crimes, and one-night stands. I lashed out against the world, like a chick throwing a tantrum.   That tide of rage eased off when I woke up that morning in that cell and the Guard Captain shook his head at me and asked me why I was wasting my life. I couldn’t answer him and enlisted on the spot. My burning anger was replaced by the discipline of the Guard, the mutual respect of my comrades, and the pride of defending ponies in need. I used that drive to work my way up to First Lieutenant.  I had been a selfish hen, considering no one in any way but myself, broken and alone. My comrades... my friends were the ones who soothed me and made me who I am. But, now all of that is for plot. My friends are dead or birds. The tide is coming back in.   Cracks form in my shell of discipline and duty, and the flames of my rage are licking through the holes. With a primal shriek, my mask is gone, and Old Gilda is back. I launch myself skyward, fire in my eyes, with no other thought than to find that bastard Discord, completely disembowel him, and feast on his entrails.   When I return to the battle, it’s even worse than before. The flashes of light are in the distance and the ponies that are left are a total mess. It looks like there’s nopony leading them and they’re all flying every which way. I shriek again and begin to charge Discord, when somepony catches me. I whirl around and snarl at the one who would dare keep me from my prey. It’s Captain-Commander Storm Shield.   He backhoofs me across the face. “Pull yourself together, soldier!” he barks. The shock of the direct order from the supreme leader of the Guard is enough to calm me a little. I’m still a raging inferno of relentless bloodlust, but I’m at least capable of staying put and listening to my commanding officer.   “But sir! My ponies! He killed my unit! I need to-“   “Lieutenant Swiftwing,” he cuts me off, “You’re one of very few officers left and I need you right now. You’re no good to me if you’re out of control. Do you understand?”   “Sir, yes sir!” I answer. The flashes are getting closer again.   “Good. Now, we’re in complete disarray. I need you to help organize whatever troops you can,” he tells me.   “Understood sir,” I respond. “What’s the plan? Where are we counterattacking from?”   The Commander looks grim. “We’re not. I need you to gather up whoever you can so we can get them out of here. We’re saving who we can. We’re no match for this.”   “WHAT!?” I shriek, “You coward! My ponies are dead! I’m taking blood for blood or die trying!”   Storm Shield backhoofs me again. “The safety of ponies lives is more important than your revenge! Now, you’ll do as you’re told, Lieutenant! Dismissed!”   Just then, somepony nearby screams, “He’s coming back!” Sure enough, I can see Discord has returned.   “RETREAT!” Captain-Commander sounds the order as loud as he can.   “Never!” I shout in defiance, “We can take him!” With that, I take off. But rather than flying away from Discord like everypony else, I’m speeding right into the eye of the storm. Suddenly, there’s a bright flash around me and the back of my head explodes in pain. I clutch my skull and wheel around. Discord is there, whistling, trying to look innocent; but I can see the big yellow clown hammer he’s hiding behind his back. I roar and rush him, but there’s another flash and he’s behind me. He grabs me from behind, then spins me around and holds me by the shoulders, putting his face right into mine.   “Did you really think you could beat me?” he asks in disbelief, “All by yourself? Look around. Your compatriots have all fled.” He lets out another loud, goofy, horrible, evil guffaw. “Poooor little bird. You’re allllll alone. And, you will be for a long time… in a pretty little cage.”   He squeezes my shoulders and there’s yet another flash of light. I’m surrounded by a glow and I feel like every tiny bit of my body is being crushed and stretched and burned and frozen at the same time.   Discord backs away and starts to chant in a sing-songy voice, “For five score, divided by four! Your memories removed, your body confused! For your insolence you must pay! Cast off to a land far far away! Such a noisy bird, silence your beak! Your mind shall be weak, and your outlook bleak! Forgetting everything and living like a fool! Now you have lost, and I continue my rule!” There’s one last, blinding flash of light and I’m filled with an indescribable agony. Then, I see only darkness.     /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Interlude - Profiles in Ponytude 2 - Lazy Bones > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Interview 2 - Lazy Bones  *Begin recording* Von: Annnnd we’re back. Hey there, I bet you could use a little comic relief after that last part. I know I do. So I thought about my interview with Gilda and how it… didn’t go so well. I figure, Lazy Bones is much easier going than Gilda the murderqueen, so I’m going to try it again. What could she possibly do to me? Alright, here goes. *BAMF!* Von: Hello, there Lazy Bones! LB: Holy cow, you’re real. I guess Gilda isn’t full of shit after all. Von: What’s that? LB: Gilda said she was taken to some weird room and asked questions by some crazy person. We all of us just thought she was hallucinating or making it up. Von: Well I can assure you I’m quite real. None of this is canon though. LB: Oh, wait. Now I’ve figured it out. Von: Oh? LB: This is another dream. Gilda had a dream about some guy and she told me about it. So I was thinking about it, and now I’m having a dream like that. Von: No… No, that’s not it. You know what, let’s just move on to the questions. First question: What was your old name? LB:  Well, my birth certificate said, “Lawrence Steven Boon, but when I was a kid, people called me Larry. When I got older, I went by my middle name, Steve, though. Von: Very good. So who are you now? LB: I’m some random pony who was never on the show, named Lazy Bones. But I don’t really like that, so I just have people call me “LB” or “Bones”. Von: Ah, seems like you have some sort of subconscious dislike for your given name, no matter what it is. Verrry interesting. LB: Oh good, I’m being psychoanalyzed by a dream construct. Von: I’m not- *sighs* Never mind. Moving on. What is your occupation? LB: I used to be a librarian in the New York Public Library system. I also had aspirations of writing, but I never actually got around to doing any. I could still do both, I guess. It’s not like being a pony keeps me from being able to write or categorize books, but the “being out in public” part might be a smidgen problematic. Von: Quite. What is your blood type? LB: B positive. Get it? “Be positive” Von: *groans* Oh my god, that’s so terrible, I think you gave me cancer. LB: Nice Futurama reference. Von: Thanks. LB: Now I’m positive you’re just a figment of my subconscious. You sound an awful lot like me and you even have the same taste in pop culture references. Von: Actually, that’d be the other way around. I’m the author here. You’re the figment of my imagination. LB: Am I. Von: You are. Your basic character is based on me. More specifically, my ego. Gilda’s my id. LB: You claim I’m a self-insert character in some lousy fan fiction? UGH, is there any worse kind!? Von: Anyway, getting back on track. *Sound of notecards shuffling* It looks like I skipped a couple questions here. Did you watch My Little Pony before this transformation? Would you cll yourself a brony? LB: Yes and yes. I absolutely adored the show. …Sometimes to perhaps an unhealthy degree. I wasn’t sure why I was so obsessed with it, but I suppose now I have my answer. Von: Looks like. So you just turned 25, right? LB: Correct. On May 4th. That’s what precipitated this entire debacle. Von: Technically, you could say I did, but whatevs. What is your height and weight? LB: I was six feet tall and 95 kilos. But- Von: For the folks playing at home who don’t know metric, that’s 210 pounds. So what about now? LB: Isn’t it rude to ask a girl her weight? Also, I’ve sort of been on the run for a while, so you’ll forgive me if I haven’t exactly had a chance to go get a complete physical. If you’re so powerful and made me up, shouldn’t you know? Von: Um, I really don’t have any idea what size a cartoon pony would be. I think I’ma just skip this question from now on. So yeah… okay. *Silence* Von: What would you say is your favorite food? LB: Reuben sandwich, a dill pickle, a side of crisps, and a cold coke. Von: Mmm. Me too. Except for the kraut. Disgusting. Also, Pepsi is the superior cola. But that’s fine if you don’t mind being wrong. LB: You’re entitled to your opinion. Von: Drink of choice? LB: Dry vodka martini, shaken not stirred. Von: For serious? LB: You’re an idiot. I’m English, I’m legally obligated to respond that way. Really it’s a White Russian. Von: You hipster, you. LB: He abides. Von: Hm. LB: If I’m you, wouldn’t it be the same for you? Von: No. Like I said, you’re BASED on me. I personally can’t stand alcohol. LB: BLASPHEMER! Von: Sure. Okay, well how about your favorite color? LB: Uh oh. Gilda told me about this. She said you were weirdly obsessed with colors. Von: I just think she didn’t show proper appreciation for the wide spectrum out there. She knows ROY G BIV and that’s it. So? LB: Purple. Von: Not y- LB: Ha, gotcha! I like a deep blue-violet. Von: You’re a disrespectful little whelp, aren’t ya? Well you’re lucky anyway, since that’s what color you mostly are. LB: I suppose. Von: Okay, now for an interesting one. Pick three songs to be your theme music, that best describe you as a person. LB: Oh wow. Hmm, that’s a tough one. I’m going to have to think about that. Unmm… *Tape fast forwards through seven minutes of silence, shifting noises and quiet muttering. Von: Okay, I’m bored. Time’s up! LB: But I barely had any time to think! Von: Too bad. Your choices? LB: Well if I’d more time, and a chance to look through my music collection, I’m sure I could make a better selection, but here’s what I have. To reflect my quiet, deep intensity: Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”. My philosophy is to not care about most things, rather I just grin and bear it, so “Always Look On the Bright Side of Life” from Monty Python’s “Life of Brian”. And lastly, because I love to read, “I’m Reading a Book” by Julian Smith. Von: Wrong, wrong and wrong! LB: What? I put a lot of thought into those. Von: I write you. I decide the music. LB: But… then what was the point of all that then? Von: You haven’t figured it out by now? I’m kind of a dick. My picks for you: “Blue” by Mai Yamane. It’s from the end of Cowboy Bebop. I’ll even throw the last couple lines of dialogue from the end of the series, because trust me, they’re relevant. LB: “Throw in”? Throw in where? What’s relevant? I think you’re clinically insane. Von: Bitch, I might be! Second, “Dream Again” by Franz Ferdinand. LB: Why am I sensing a theme? Von: You must be smarter than you look. LB: What’s that say about you then? *silence* Von: Sh-shut up! Last, the version of “Que Sera, Sera” by Pink Martini. LB: Actually, I have to agree with that one. I want to change one of my answers. Von: Too late. This is already taking up too many pages. LB: Pages? Seriously, are you alright? Von: We have to keep moving! LB: You’re starting to sound kind of manic. Von: NEXT QUESTION! *panting* Describe a favorite childhood memory. LB: Hmm. I used to love to go to the zoo with my family. My dad would put me on his shoulders so I could see the animals better. I remember one time where an elephant came right up to us and I wasn’t even eye level with him. And my older brother and I used to make faces at the tigers. It was- Von: Fascinating. Let’s move it along. Name one hobby. LB: I’m beginning to think you have some deep-seated psychological issues. Von: We know you like to read. Wonderful. If you could meet one person, living or dead, who would it be? LB: Oh, this old chestnut. Well I’ll just give my standard answer: Mark Twain. A sharper, funnier wit, there is not. What about you? Who woul- Von: Ben Franklin. Keep moving. Super power. Which one? Why? LB: Which power would I want to have? Oh, I think the manipulation of space/time would be amazing. Imagine if you could teleport anywhere you wanted or I could stop time so I could have as long as I wanted to read as mu- Von: Last question: Describe your first kiss. LB: M-m-my… Oh, uh. Right. Yes, first kiss. It was… uh. Yes. Um, it’s nothing to tell. I’m sure it’s boring compared to yours. Why are we talking about me, anyway? I’m nothing special. But you! You’re some sort of powerful extra-dimensional being! I’m sure you’re just brimming with amazing stories. So tell me; I’m dying to know. What was YOUR first kiss like? Von: Actually, I’m an anomaly, really. You see- *Tape is roughly edited. 18 ½ minutes are missing* LB: Very good. Now tell me about your relationship with your mother. Von: Well you see- Heeeey! Wait a minute! How did you…? That’s it, you’re out of here. *BAMF!* Von: Okay, well that was even weirder than the first one. I think maybe in the future I’ll have to limit these things to a written questionnaire or something, because this is just not working out. Anyway, I’m going to attach a little profile summary thing to the bottom of this. That way, you’ve got just the hard facts without any of that whatever just happened. Plus, I retconjured one into Gilda’s interview. I’m really good at retconjuring. In fact, Retconjuration is my caster discipline. That’s about it for now. See you next time, pony fans! Same griffon time, same griffon channel. …Or whenever I finish. *Recording ends* Name: Former: Lawrence “Larry” “Steve” Boon Current: Lazy Bones H / W: Former: 6’0”/210 lbs Current: Unknown Coat Color: Ultramarine Mane Color: Royal indigo and periwinkle Eye Color: Chartreuse Cutie Mark: Pillow with sleeping eyes over two crossed feathers/quills Blood Type: B+ Birthday: May 4, 1995 Occupation: librarian Brony: yes Favorite Food: Reuben sandwich, potato chips, dill pickle, Coca-Cola Favorite Drink: White Russian Favorite Color: deep blue-violet Songs: Subject’s picks: Moonlight Sonata (Beethoven) Always Look on the Bright Side of Life (Monty Python) I'm Reading Book (Julian Smith) Author’s pick: Blue (Mai Yamane) Dream Again (Franz Ferninand) Que Sera, Sera (Pink Martini) Meet One Person: Mark Twain Super Power: time/space manipulation Hobby: reading Childhood Memory: family trips to zoo First Kiss: question evaded > Ch. 07: Me And My Shadow > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 1 – Interesting Times Chapter 7 – Me And My Shadow (In Which I’m an Unconscionable Bastard; Just a Miserable Son of a Bitch) I wake up with a start. Just like yesterday, I just go from asleep to awake with no in-between, but this morning, I’m panting in terror. I’m Gilda- I mean Gilda- I mean Gayle (fuck, what is wrong with me) and I’m not scared of anything. But right now, I’m paralyzed in absolute gut-clenching, knee-shaking, pants-shitting terror. If I still could, I’m sure I would be sweating bullets. I remember every detail of the dream. Every horrible thing and dead pony I saw. When I think of the unit of ponies I was with, I feel a deep sadness and sense of loss. For some reason, I feel like I let someone down. It doesn’t make any sense. Shit, if this Discord is really real, he really is a monster. That dream wasn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced before. I’ve never had a dream that real. Not only was everything so clear, but all of my senses worked. I could smell the smoke and feel the pain of being smashed over the back of the head. I’ve never had that. But it also felt like those other blurry dreams I’ve been having: familiar, like a memory, but without being anything I actually remember happening. Whatever. The past is the past, whatever it is, so best to just focus on the future and get this day started. When I’ve calmed down, I see I’ve woken up just as the first rays of the sun are creeping between the blinds and I quickly take stock of my surroundings. Both things must be remnants of my military training. …Wait, my what? I’ve never been in the military. I- whatever. Anyway, I’m in the rented cabin, all curled up nose to ass (or beak to ass), like a cat, in a little nest of blankets. Fuckin’ weird. I roll over off the bed and land on the floor with a loud thump. Ha, I guess cats really do always land on their feet. I’m all stiff and sore from that godawful bed. Weren’t we going to bring back clouds to sleep on last night? I need to loosen myself up, so I extend my everything, in a big cat-like stretch. I feel my spine and joints popping, all of my muscles taut, every part of me waking up. Oh my GOD, does that feel good. It’s almost better than sex. No wonder cats are always doing this all the time. From behind me and to my left, I hear a sniff and a drowsy voice mumble, “Hey, nice show.  What a sight to wake up to. I thought the full moon was tonight.” I look back, further than my neck used to be able to move, and see Sunny Daze, laying on his side, his head raised, one eye still shut. His other eye has a perfect view of my ass. I gave up on even wearing underwear yesterday, so he can see everything. I chuckle. “Ha, you wish you could a piece of this, motherfucker,” I smirk, “Too bad for you, this is way too much for any stallion, erm, man to handle.” Sunny opens his other eye. “Someone’s full of herself,” he mumbles. “Bitch, you’re just sour-grapin’ you don’t stand a chance with this hotness,” I shoot back. “I just wish there were two of me so I could fuck myself.” Sunny rolls his eyes then puts his head back down. “Well, keep it down, will ya, your hotness? Some of us are trying to sleep,” he grumbles. “Don’t go back to sleep,” I suggest. “We have to get up and move out into the woods today. We better do it now before there are a lot of people around.” Sunny sighs. “Alright, alright. I’m up,” he moans. He rolls to his belly and then carefully jumps down off the bed. He stretches himself, but it doesn’t look like he enjoys it half as much as I did. “Get some breakfast, then we’ll pack up the car and check out. Food’s in the bag at the end of bed,” I tell him. “Just don’t eat my jerky,” I add. “Hey, I been vegetarian for years,” he calls back. Then I move over to Bones to wake her up. Of course, she’s still out like a light. “Hey Bones,” I whisper. Nothing. “Whatchu got in here?” Sunny asks. “Hey. Bones,” I whisper a little louder, and gently poke my friend. Nothing. “What is this? Plain Cheerios? How boring,” Sunny complains. “Bones, wake up,” I say, no longer quiet, and shake her lightly. Still nothing. Though, she does twitch a little bit and furrow her brow. “Oh my sweet baby Jesus on a cracker, when did plain oat get so good?” Sunny shouts around a mouthful of cereal. “WAKE UP, LAZY BONES!” I shout. She still doesn’t wake up, but she whimpers a little and has a scared look on her face. She must be having a nightmare. “Dude, you’re loud,” Sunny says in between shoveling hoof-fulls of cereal into his face. I look over at him. “I’m about to get a whole lot louder. Cover your ears; we’re doing this the hard way,” I warn. Then I take a deep breath and… “SKREEAAWW!” It’s not as loud as yesterday morning, but still louder than anyone has business being before the sun is all the way up. Bones’ eyes open slowly, looking straight up. “It’s all a… a dream,” she says. “Yeah, it was just dream. You were just having a bad dream, Bones. I think it’s going around,” I reassure her. “Time to get up.” “No, dude, she was quoting Bebop. Actually, the start of your response was almost exactly right,” Sunny says and takes a sip from a water bottle. Huh. How did he get it open? Bones turns to look at me, seeing me for the first time. “Huh? Gilda?” she asks, completely confused, “Where am I?” “You fell asleep out in the woods last night and we brought you to bed. But now it’s time to get up. We got to get moving,” I order. I give her a punch on the foreleg, then go to get some breakfast for myself. Bones looks bewildered, then grunts. “Oh yeah. Did you bastards have fun breaking physics?” she snorts, then rolls over. “Uh uh uh!” I shout, “Wake your lazy ass up, Lazy!” She grunts again, then rolls back over. “Fine, fine.” She swings her legs over the side of the bed and tries to sit up. But instead, she falls forward, hitting the floor square on her face, her ass sticking up in the air. Guess she didn’t realize she was full pony. I know that shit’s rough, so I try to keep from laughing. “BAH HA HA HA Haaaaa!” I bust out laughing. I didn’t say I tried very hard. Sunny is right there with me, laughing his ass off. Bones groans and adjusts herself into a sitting position. She rubs her face with her front hoof, but stops in confusion. She looks at her hoof and then jerks it away in shock. She looks at the other hoof, then down at herself. “Holy fuck!” she gasps. “Problems?” I ask. We both chuckle. Hey, it’s not like we didn’t go through the same thing ourselves. “This isn’t funny,” Bone spits. “Yeah, it kinda is,” Sunny giggles. “Yeah, I’m laffin’ over here,” Bones growls and tries to stand up. It doesn’t work real well. “Aw, chubby’s gwumpy. Why the long face?” I snicker. Bones groans and rolls her eyes. “Har har har. I’ll tell you why. I woke up and was a horse,” she says, still trying to find her hooves. “Woke up far too early, I might add. You’re always waking me up.” “You’re always sleeping,” I retort. “But, why’s it have to be so early?” Bones whines, then smirks, “Need to get your worm, early bird?” Okay, point to her on that one. “Touché,” I give in. Sunny’s looking back and forth between us, giggling. “Still, we gotta check out of this shithole and head out to the woods to lay low for the day. Come get some food. Then the two of us,” I gesture to Sunny and myself, “will pack up while you get your sea legs.” Bones finally manages to stand and sorta of pushes/drags herself over to us. We eat our breakfast in silence. Well, except for the sound of Sunny loudly om-nom-noming his way through the cereal. I eat the rest of the jerky we brought inside, but it’s not enough. I’m craving something more, but I’m not sure what. Afterward, Sunny and I pack up all of our shit and start bringing it out to the car. Or that was the plan anyway. Sunny has to carry stuff in his mouth, but for me, it’s easier to use my hands and just fly. The very second I’ve landed next to the car, I hear a voice. “Ah HA!” shouts a familiar voice. The asshole from yesterday steps out from around behind a nearby tree, holding up a phone. "I knew you people were up… to...” he trails off as he sees us. Ah, fuck my life. The three of us stand there, just staring at each other in shock, me by the car, Sunny on the porch, and Nosey McShitstain by the tree. No one says anything. “Hey guys!” Bones calls from inside. She slides into the doorframe, her hoodie draped over her more like a robe. “Where are my glasses…”she stops when she sees the situation. Nosey absently thumbs his phone and I hear a camera shutter noise. Click! There’s a blur and before anyone even realizes it, myself included, I’m on top of him. I’m pinning him to the ground, my paws holding his legs, my left hand on his arm, and my right talons squeezing his neck, not quite breaking skin. Instinct, baby. Of course, now that I have him, what do I do with him? Something tells me I need to scare the shit out of this guy so he doesn’t even think of fucking with us again. “One little flick of my talons and you don’t have a throat anymore,” I growl at him. “Oh, it would be so nice. It’s been so long since I’ve had anything so, mmm, fresh,” I coo. I run my tongue up his face and I snap my beak right in his ear. Nosey flinches. He’s shaking violently now and I feel something warm and wet run under my paw. “Gilda! Easy!” Bones shouts. “What- what are you people!?” the man gasps. I take my face out of Nosey’s and loosen my grip on his neck a little, but I keep my eyes narrowed and the growl in my voice. “We just wanted to be left alone. What the fuck is your problem, man?” “Yeah! And what did you mean, ‘you people’?” asks Sunny in fake outrage. “Not now!” I snap at him. I turn back to the terrified man under me, “Talk! What’s your deal, shitbucket?” “I-I-I.” he stammers, “There-there’s been reports of people selling dr-drugs around here recently and you were acting suspicious.” I look over at Sunny. He sits on his haunches and holds up his forelegs in a defensive gesture, shaking his head. I look back at Nosey. “N-now people are talking about a big animal in the area. I-I thought you were keeping a mountain lion or something,” he whimpers. “So, what? You waited out here all night and were going to confront the scary drug dealers with the wild animal by yourself?” I ask and squeeze his throat a little. He just sobs in response. “Gilda… Come on,” Bones urges. I look over at her. She looks really uneasy. I look down at the man and snort. “Get the fuck out of here, you little cockbite. Don’t ever let me see you again,” I order him and snap my beak in his face. Then I step off and let him up. He scrambles backwards, then jumps to his feet. His whole crotch is soaked and he runs off at top speed. “Okay!” I shout and clap my hands twice. “Bones, get in the fucking car! Sunny, grab everything and shove it in there! Don’t worry about being neat; we need to be out of here five minutes ago! We don’t want to be here when the goddamn cops show up,” I command. Sunny and I dash back and forth a few times cramming our shit into the car. When we’re done, he crawls into the mess in the backseat and I slide into the driver’s seat. I throw the car in gear and we start toward the front office. We pass Nosey running down the road. I flip him off as we pass. I didn’t think it was possible for him to look more surprised and scared than when he saw a griffon, but he manages it when he sees a griffon driving. We stop in front of the rental office and I look over at Bones, riding shotgun. “Well? You checked in.” “Yeah, and the guy was half asleep and I was still human. I think he’s going to notice this,” she says, gesturing down at herself. “I’m not going in there!” Sunny chirps from the back seat. Bones grimaces. “Fuck it. The key’s in my pocket. Just throw it and let’s get out of here.” I roll down the window, reach into her hoodie pocket, grab the key, and chuck it as hard as I can at the office door. Then we peal out to get as much distance between us and that fucking place as we can. When we’re out on the open road, we all let out a sigh of relief. Bones turns to me. “Jesus Christ, Gilda. What the hell was that back there?” “What?” “You looked like you were going to eat that guy,” she accuses. “I was just fucking with him,” I reassure her. Wasn’t I? It did feel pretty good. Natural. “You were awfully into it,” she keeps on me. “You tasted his face!” “That’s the part that sealed the fucking deal! Guy pissed himself!” I respond. Maybe if I convince her it was all just an act, I’ll convince myself too. “Just…” she snorts, “just, in the future, try to refrain from eating people. As if they don’t already have enough reason to lock us up. Jesus Christ.” We continue on quietly for a minute or two. Sunny breaks the silence. “Um… Didn’t that guy, like, take a picture of us?” Goddamnit, fuck my life. The car screeches to a stop as I slam on the brakes. I quickly hang a U-ey and Sunny grunts as he’s thrown against the window. Dumbass should be wearing his seatbelt. We speed off back the way we came. “What are you doing?” Bones questions. Does she even have to ask? “We gotta get that phone!” I say urgently. “Gilda, stop the car.” “What?” “Stop the car, Gilda,” Bone repeats. Is this bitch serious? This is, like, a Godzilla-level emergency. “Are you fucking serious? You’re the one who says we have to stay secret. We gotta destroy that picture!” I shout at her. “Gilda. Stop,” she repeats. I hit the brakes again, slamming Sunny against the back of my seat. I turn to Bones and growl right in her face. This time she doesn’t back off. “Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, bitch,” I warn her, clacking my beak. “I’m in command here and I’m doing what needs to be done. Don’t fuck with a griffon, pony.” She doesn’t even flinch. “Are you quite finished?” she asks patiently. I narrow my eyes. “What has gotten into you today?” Me? ME!? What’s gotten into me? What’s gotten into her!? “I’m acting the same as ever,” she says. Fuck, I was thinking out loud again. “You’re the one behaving irrationally,” she accuses and pokes me in the chest with her hoof. “Barking orders, preparing to kill and eat people, completely disregarding the safety of others, and now threatening me?” she tries to tick off each point on her hooves. She points to the backseat. “Look at him.” I turn to see what she’s talking about. Sunny is holding his hoof to his forehead, where a nasty looking gash is oozing blood. I’m hypnotized by the sight; the blood. I get the urge to breathe deep and take it in. God, it’s sooo good. You like that don’tcha? What? That was a weird thought. Oh right, Sunny’s bleeding. How did this happen? What did he even cut himself on? Fuck. This is my fault. Bones takes off her hoodie and hands it to him. “Here. Hold this over the cut and apply pressure,” she instructs him. Bones turns back to me. “No one put you in charge of this excursion, so stop acting like you are. Come on, this isn’t the Gayle I know. The Gayle I know can be a douche and a bitch, but she’s not a villain. She’s reckless, but not stupid. And this?” she her hoof waves around, “This is stupid. We can’t go back there now. Even if that man didn’t tell anyone about this; even if the place isn’t swarming with cops and feds and... and... and animal control, it’s too light out now to be traipsing about around people.” “Yeah, and I kinda have a head wound,” adds Sunny. “And, Sunny has a head wound,” Bones repeats. I rub my eyes and sigh. “You’re right.” “Really, Gilda, you- ...what?” Bones starts, then stops, completely befuddled. “You’re right,” I admit, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think I’m letting this nightmare I had get to me. I feel like I need to make up for something I fucked up, but now I’m just fucking things up more.” Bones starts to laugh. “You actually admitted I was right. I can’t believe it!” A car swerves to avoid rear ending us and blasts its horn. Sunny clears his throat. “As touchin’ as this special little unicorn moment is, mebbe we need t’ get off the road.” I see another car coming from the opposite way. He’s right. It’s good and light out now and traffic is becoming an issue. “Yeah, okay. Where do you two think we should go?” I give in and ask, hoping to make up for how I’ve been acting. “Who cares? Herr’s fine. Le’s jus’ go ov’r there,” says Sunny and he points his hoof across the road. There’s an open field, leading up to grove of trees. He sounds cranky. And woozy. I’m not a doctor, but it’s probably from the blood loss. Bones gives him a concerned look and agrees. “Anywhere’s as good a spot as anywhere else. Just take us over that way until we’re out of sight of the road.” I wait until the oncoming car passes us and is out of sight, then I pull off the road and carefully drive across the field. This friggin’ tub is a Passat, not a Jeep. We drive along the edge of the wooded area for a little bit until we can’t see the road any more. I take us into the trees a short way and finally stop the car. Where we are is lightly wooded enough to fit the car in, but it’s dense enough and we’re far enough in that someone passing by would have to be looking to find us. It seems as good a spot as any. Bones and I pile out. Well, I do. She more falls out of the car and stumbles around. Sunny just sits where he is. I open the side door for him, then go pop the trunk to grab the tent out of the back. Bones looks him over. “How are you feeling?” she asks and examines his head. Her hoodie has a big, dark spot where it soaked up his blood. “I see a light,” he moans, “I think this is it for me.” “Oh no,” Bones gasps, “But, it doesn’t look that bad. Are you in a lot of pain? Is there anything I can do?” She leans in close to him. I’ve got the bright orange tent in hand to set it up, but he’s more important right now. “I... I think so,” Sunny whispers, “A kiss from a beautiful mare might save me.” ...Really? OKAY, that’s enough. I was actually worried. I thought he was serious, but he was just fishing for booty. I don’t need to see what comes next. Fucking lovebirds. I groan in disgust, then throw down the tent. It rolls away and unfurls into a patch of orange as I march off. I spend a while just hiking through the woods, cooling my head. Why am I so fucking off this morning? First that nightmare made me feel all sad and angry and weird, like I was a failure for some reason. Then, I get all weird at the sight of blood. I can’t stop thinking about how nice it smelled. So good, amiright? And now there’s this whole thing between those two. Bones is smart; she wouldn’t fall for such a lame pickup, would she? Why do I feel... jealous? I mean, she’s pretty cute, I guess. For a cartoon pony. But it’s not like we’d... And besides, I already have a girlfriend. Oh jeez. Now I’m thinking of Ellen. I didn’t even think of her at all yesterday. Does that make me a bad girlfriend? I wonder what she’s doing right now. I want to call her so bad right now, but I don’t even have my phone on me. Sigh, what good would that even do? She probably hates me now. I feel like scum. I don’t even know what I feel. I’m… unsure of myself? I haven’t felt like this since I was fifteen. Not since... fuck. And to top it all off, there’s not even enough space here between trees to stretch my wings and get some flying time in. I’ve been gone about an hour when I come across a little pond and stop to take a drink. But then I see it. There’s a rabbit a little ways away, also drinking from the pond. Those instincts I tapped into earlier are going nuts. Part of me just thinks, “Oh. A rabbit. That’s nice.” But another part is telling me, “BREAKFAST! Go ahead! Go nuts!” Fuck it. I guess this is what I am now. I let the second half take control and my body starts moving almost on its own. I drop down low to the ground, slowly slinking through the tall grass and reeds surrounding the pond. I’m only five feet away from the little bunny now. My legs are tightly wound coils, waiting for release. Suddenly, the wind shifts and the rabbit stands on its hind legs, sniffing the air, and I realize I’m upwind. Now! I spring forward, letting loose a predatory screech, and pounce onto the unsuspecting bunny. I grasp it tight with my talons and snap its neck in my beak. I let myself go as I tear into my catch and fill my belly. There you go. Eat up... little bird. Meat’s gone. Bones stripped. Crack them open. Suck the marrow. Crunch crunch crunch. Swallow them too. Mmmm. Whine. Aw, what’sa matter, pretty kitty? Still hungry? Caw? So hungry. You want more, don’t you? Purr. You KNOW where it is. Second helping, ripe for the plucking. It even already marinated itself. Good eatin’, mm mm mmmm. Caaw... So go get it. Run run run. Fast fast fast. Through the trees. To the prey. There it is. On the prowl. There’s one. Asleep in the machine. Asleep? The female. Save for later. Where’s the other? There’s orange thing. Wide, flat. Something under it. Moving, squirming. It tastes better when it squirms, doesn’t it? Sneak. Sneak. So close. One leap. Bon appetite! Quiet. Can’t wait. Growl. “Sunny? Is that you?” Head pops out. The female? Sees me. “Oh. Gilda.” Lazy Bones? Steve? No. I stop. I back up. No, go ahead, chickadee. “Gilda? What happened?” Bones asks. She rushes to me. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding!” It’s right in front of you. Do it. It’s prey. Look at it. The sinew, the soft meat, the dark blood coursing within. No, that’s Bones. It’s breakfast. She’s my friend. She’s food. Please stop. Do it. I don’t- I don’t want to. DO IT, YOU PUSSY! I- I can’t. EAT THAT FUCKING CUNT, YOU WORTHLESS HALF-BREED WHORE! NO. Suddenly, I’m back to myself. Or at least I think I’m back. Oh god. Oh god jesus fuck, what was I about to do? Bones is right in front me. She’s looking me over and saying something, but I can’t hear her over the blood rushing in my ears. I turn to the side and vomit. Bones sees the stream of blood and bile pouring from my beak and flips her shit. “Oh my god, Gilda! You’re hurt! Let me get- you’re-” I wave her off. “‘s not mine,” I mumble. I wipe my beak. I see blood on my hand. I fall back on my haunches and bring my hands up to my face. They’re covered in blood. There’s a bit of fur stuck to one talon. I quickly pick it off. “What do you mean, ‘It’s not yours’?” Bones asks, still panicking. “I- I ate a rabbit and...” I trail off. “You just found a dead rabbit and ate it?” she asks in disbelief. I just look away. “It was alive!?” Bones gasps. I slowly nod. “Wh- Why?” “I don’t know,” I admit, “I don’t know what came over me. Something told me, ‘Trust your animal instincts. Eat it. Give in,’ and I just lost it.” “Well that’s... um, disconcerting. It explains the chunks and bits of bone though,” she says, giving a nervous glance at the pile I threw up, then an even more nervous look back at me. “You had kind of a scary look in your eye. ...Your ‘something’ didn’t, uh, didn’t tell you eat anything else, did it?” I can’t even look her in the eye. I lay down and cover my head with my hands. I’m so ashamed. I’ve never been so ashamed. I almost ate my... oh god, my best friend. Bones is my best friend? What a way to realize that little fact. Bones backs away from me. “Gilda, what were you doing when you came back?” she asks in a controlled tone. “I’m sorry!” I cry, “I don’t know why! I couldn’t help it! I wasn’t in control! I stopped it! I would never. I would never...” I sob. I break down and cry. This isn’t like me. This is just as unlike me as the way I was acting before. What’s happening to me? I feel a hoof rubbing the top of my head. “Hey. You didn’t,” Bones says softly. I can hear it in her voice: she’s disappointed in me. She’s looking at me with that pity in her eyes that I know so well. I can already tell. I look up and she’s there. Tears sting my eyes and blur my vision, but I can see her clear as day. There’s no pity on her face. She’s wearing a gentle smile, that reminds me of Ann. I bury my face in her fur and blubber like a baby. I cry for what I did and for what I almost did. I cry for what’s happening to us and what’s happened in the past. I cry for losing Ann so long ago and for leaving Ellen behind just recently. But mostly I cry just because I can and I never let myself do it before. Eventually, I run out of tears and I’m just empty. I quietly sniffle while Bones rubs my back. “You feel better now?” she asks. I... I actually do. “Good,” Bones responds. Thinking out loud again. “Now let’s get you cleaned up,” she says and nudges me. I look at my hands again. The blood has dried and turned a dark brownish-red. She’s right. I need to wash this off. But I don’t want to go back to that pond. I can’t. “Oh! I know,” Bones announces, “You just stay right there.” She dashes over to the car. Huh, she’s gotten the hang of her hooves I guess. She digs through the back seat for something. Sunny is still back there, snoring away. I can’t believe he didn’t wake up. Thank god he was in there. If it was Bones who was sleeping and Sunny under the tent like I thought, I have no doubt that I would have... I almost break down again. While Bones’ back is turned, I quickly dig a small hole with my talons and bury the mess I made, just so I won’t have to keep looking at it. I’m sure a philosopher would make some clever comment about digging up my feelings or burying them, or something like that. Bones trots back over to me with something in her teeth. It’s the camping cooler we brought along. She sets it down in front of me. “Here you go. The ice all melted, so you can clean yourself up with the water.” I pry off the lid and fish out the water bottles in there. I look inside and gasp when I see my reflection. I look like a wild animal. My eyes are red and I have blood smeared all over my face, matted into the feathers around my beak and down my neck. I plunge my hands into the water, forming a cup and bringing it to my face, trying to scrub out the blood. I don’t think the shame will wash away as easily. After a few minutes, I’m pretty clean and Bones tosses me a towel. “Didn’t I tell you to keep track of that?” she pretends to scold me. I dry myself, then turn to her and hesitantly ask, “So... are we cool?” She smiles. “Yeah, Gil, we’re cool. Just warn me if you feel anything like that again.” I stand up and work the kinks out of my neck. I look down at Bones. “Um, can we not tell him about this?” I ask and jerk my thumb over at Sunny, still snoozing away. She glances over at him. “Tell him about what? As far as I’m concerned, no one ever has to know about this little incident if you don’t want them to.” “How did he sleep through all of that?” I ask. Then I remember. “Oh man, that’s right, he was hurt pretty bad. Is he okay?” “Yeah, he’s fine. He was just playing up the injury. He was all knackered though, so he’s taking a nap,” she informs me. “So what were you doing under the tent?” I question. I’m feeling better and things are starting to feel like normal again. “Well, someone had to set up,” she says almost accusingly. “Sunny was asleep and you were... out. Although, I’m afraid it wasn’t going spectacularly.” She waves toward the poles scattered all around the field of canvas. “So, you want some help with that?” I offer with a grin. Bones nods. “Sure. This is a touch difficult without the benefit of fingers.” “Okay, I’ll... lend you a hand,” I smirk. Somewhere, a detective is putting on his shades as The Who start to play. I elbow her in the ribs and chuckle at my own joke. She just scowls and shakes her head slowly. As we start assembling the tent, I notice Bones is doing everything with her mouth. But in the few episodes I saw of the show, there were unicorns floating stuff around with their horns. I wonder why she doesn’t do that. I just come out and ask her, “So on the show, unicorns move stuff around with, like, magic or whatever. Why don’t you just use that?” “No,” Bones hisses, “Not this again. There is no such thing as magic.” I respond, “Yeah? What about last night? Here, pass me that rod.” She picks the rod up in her mouth. “‘at ‘as ‘i’ren’.” I take it from her. “Excuse me. That was different. Your wings aren’t large enough to provide the necessary lift to keep you aloft, so you shouldn’t be able to fly. And don’t get me started on hovering.” She holds a pole in place with her hooves while I pull the canvas over it. “But when you boil it down, you’re still flapping wings to fly. Maybe you have some sort of enhanced wing musculature or something that lets you flap harder? Maybe? I still don’t think that your wings, and especially not Sunny’s, have enough surface area to keep you up. But I’m not an expert on aerodynamics, so I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Assuming the two of you don’t have some advanced biological enhancements or nanotechnology or something, and you’re flying completely naturally, really, it’s only a minor break in the physics of the universe.” On a scale of one to one hundred, I’m at about an eight in understanding what she just said. I’ve heard all of the words before, but I think she’s just putting them in random order and talking out her ass now. Just humor her. “And that’s... a good thing?” We thread the last pole into place. “No. ‘ut i’s ‘e’er ‘an’ oonicor’ ‘a’ic,” Bones says around a mouthful of tent as we pull it into place. Finally, it’s up. “You’re going to have to repeat that,” I tell her. “I said no, it’s not a good thing. But a small hiccup in Newtonian physics is better than the full-on break that is unicorn magic,” she repeats. There’s no way she said all that before. We go grab a couple pillows from the car and then lay down in the tent. Keep pretending you know what she’s talking about, Gilda. I ask her, “Why?” “Like I said, you’re still flapping to fly, and just getting a minor boost to stay up. Nothing extravagant. But you want me to start using unicorn telekinesis? To create a field of exotic energy- Create, mind you! Complete disregard for Conservation of Energy! Anyway, an exotic energy field capable of physically manipulating objects remotely or even altering the fabric of reality? That’s a whole other kettle of fish. No sir, I don’t like it,” Bones finishes her rant. She lays looking at me, waiting for my response. Okay, fuck it, I can’t pretend anymore. “Bones, I gotta be honest with you. You lost me at ‘hovering’.” She looks annoyed and drops her face into her hooves. She pulls them away and just looks at them for a second. “Okay, how about this,” she offers, “Two guys are running a marathon.” Now she’s speaking my language. “The first guy finishes in two hours.” “Impossible,” I argue. “Eh, that’s only a couple minutes better than the world record,” Bones counters. “But that’s the point. It shouldn’t be possible, but it’s not too unbelievable. With a little help, maybe he could do it. But the second guy turns into a cheetah and crosses the finish line twenty minutes before he starts running.” “Huh? That doesn’t even make sense,” I say and cock my head. “Exactly. One’s unlikely, but doable. The other completely doesn’t make sense.” “Okay... sure... Well then, why did you freak out like that last night?” I ask. Bones rolls onto her back. “It may have been a minor break in physics. But it was still a break. Excuse my pun, but it flies in the face of everything I know to be true about the nature of reality.” “Well now, you’re just be goddamn drama queen,” I accuse. “Gilda, I’m not like you. I’m not a doer. I’m a thinker,” she explains. “You go out and experience life. I observe and catalogue it.” “That sounds really fucking boring.” Bones lets out a heavy sigh. “The world is boring. Nothing amazing happens. Everything is ordinary. No matter that we do, no one can truly change the world. So why do anything? Nothing we do matters. If nothing matters, then what’s the point?” she ponders to the ceiling. This is going downhill fast. I don’t like dealing with this much emo, but I should be supportive. That’s what friends do for each other, I guess. She did it for me just a few minutes ago. “Why do you talk like that?” I ask seriously. “Like the other night. You said you wouldn’t move out of the way of a meteor. What’s so awful that you don’t care about dying?” “Nothing.” “Nothing?” “Nothing’s ‘awful’,” she confirms, “But everything is all just so inconsequential. Think about it. If we died right now, how many people would care? A handful? A couple dozen?” Jesus fucking Christ. I had no idea she was this dark. How long has she been sitting on this? “But what about the people twenty miles away? The next state over? The next country? Do they notice anything we do? Are they even aware we exist? No.” Bones sighs. “I think of ‘Ozymandias’ by Shelly or ‘Musee des Beaux Arts’.” “You’re gonna have to explain that me,” I confess. She looks at me and I can see in her eyes she’s going into lecture mode. “They’re poems. “Musee” is about how importance is a matter of perspective and how life goes on. What might be the most important event of someone’s life might not matter in the slightest to the person right next to them. They just go about their business as if nothing happened.” “Ozymandias tells of the ruins of an enormous statue, lost alone in the desert. It’s of an ancient king, the most powerful man in the world during his time. But no matter how great he was, now he’s nothing. Forgotten. The only record of his existence is a nearly destroyed statue in the middle of nowhere that almost no one knows exists. It’s just so futile,” she finishes. “Okay....” “It’s just...” she pauses, trying to think of the right words, “think of how little we matter in the scope of the world. Then compare the world to the entire universe. And that’s just right now, while we’re actually here. What about in a hundred years time? A thousand? A billion? If a tree falls in the forest and rots away before anyone notices, can it be said to have even existed at all?” Who knew this care-free little dweeb had such deep baggage? I’m shit at touchy-feely crap, but I need to try. If this morning has taught me anything, it’s that I can’t only think about myself anymore. I always thought I was a lone wolf, but look what that got me. I guess it’s true: birds of a feather... Ugh, I can’t even finish. I hate myself for even thinking that fucking pun. I put my hand on her foreleg in what I hope is a comforting gesture. “Steve... you’re kinda scaring me.” Bones smiles and shakes her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve come to terms with it.” “You have?” I ask, “Doesn’t sound like it. Sounds like it’s eating you up.” “No, I deal with it my own way,” she reassures me. “That’s why I observe things. Everything. No matter how small. In fact, especially the small things. Sure, the big summer blockbuster and the famous works of the literary masters. But also the kid who drops his ice cream and the bugs eating the dead squirrel; I watch it all. Like I’ve said, ‘If no one noticed it, did it really happen?’ This way, as long as I’m around at least, there’s someone who can say, ‘Yes, I saw it. It existed.’ It’s my own little attempt to make everything matter,” Bones finishes with a confident smile. “I’m not sure I really get it but if that’s how you deal with your, um, problems, then I say you go for it,” I tell her. “But I gotta ask. Where the hell did this all come from all of a sudden?” “You asked.” “I’m pretty sure I didn’t,” I say in confusion. “You asked me why I freaked out,” Bones reminds me. “I freaked out because of magic. If you can fly, maybe magic exists. If that’s true, maybe there are other worlds that house omnipotent gods of chaos. I make it my business to know everything about life, the universe, and everything. And the foundation of it all is the basic physical laws of the universe. Which you completely ignored. I freaked out because in five minutes you invalidated my worldview and disproved everything I knew to be true,” she finishes, grimly. She looks at me with a sparkle of wonder in her eyes. “You did it. Something amazing. Something truly world-changing.” She looks back up at the ceiling. “And you weren’t even trying,” she adds, almost as an afterthought. I’m not sure how to respond to that. “Well... I’m sorry, I guess,” I offer. Bones waves me off. “Ehhh. Don’t worry about it. At least you looked fucking good doing it.” “Thanks.” We lay in silence for a minute, just listening to the sounds of nature and the chainsaw that is Sunny snoring. I look over at her. She has her eyes closed and I think she’s fallen asleep. But then she breaks the illusion. “Hey Gilda,” she says quietly. “Yeah?” “Did you really attend a boarding school around here?” she innocently asks. Ouch. Jesus, she knows how to hit me in a raw nerve. I think she senses by discomfort because she quickly adds, “I’m sorry if that’s over the line. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” I almost don’t, but then I think back to earlier. Compared to the way I broke down before, this should be nothing. And… I don’t know; maybe it’s time I finally open up about this. Maybe I can rely on others to help with this sort of thing instead of just going it alone. Plus, I can’t help but feel like I owe her one. I’m not really in any place to turn her down. “Yeah,” I finally confirm. “Why d’you wanna know?” Bones giggles and opens her eyes to look at me. “I was just picturing you in a sailor fuku,” she says. “A what? “One of those Japanese school uniforms,” she answers and giggles again. “Ha motherfucking ha,” I deadpan. For a second there, I thought she was actually interested. “You brought it up just to laugh at me?” “No no no, sorry,” she apologizes, “I’m serious. I'm curious about you being in a fancy prep school. I can’t imagine it. It’s so not you.” “It wasn’t. I hated it.” “Hey, I’m a product of Manchester public schools. A high-end private institution sounds great to me,” Bones says with a hint of jealousy, then yawns. “Yeah, but that’s your world, not mine,” I grumble, “Filled with stuffy know-it-all geniuses and kids of rich white people. I was all alone there.” “Then why did you go?” she asks. “Well, it’s not like I had any say in it,” I spit. “My parents sent me away to punish me.” “What did you do?” Bones asks. “I don’t want to talk about her!” I shout too fast, then quickly correct myself, “I mean ‘that’. I just pissed them off, so they shipped me off to where they wouldn’t have to deal with me.” “They… wanted to get rid of you? I can’t imagine.” Bones gasps, horrified. “My parents begged me not to move to the States for uni. They don’t let me go a week without video chatting with them.” She’s wearing that same fucking look again that I hate so much. It’s the same pitiful look you’d give to a cat you find dying by the side of the road and you know there’s nothing you can do for it. “Stop that,” I say coldly. I roll over onto my other side, putting my back to her. “What?” wonders, then yawns again. “The way you’re looking me. Like I’m some poor, pathetic lost cause,” I tell her. “I’m not-” “It’s the same way they looked at me. They think they’re so big and important. Mr. big Chief of Medicine, Dr. Henry Griffin, and his genius financial wiz of a wife, Emily,” I announce sarcastically. “Both of them have intellectual jobs, so that’s all they care about. They didn’t care what I wanted. Growing up, they always told me to stop wasting my time running around, playing sports, pushing my body. They forced me to read and study all the time.” “But that’s not me,” I sigh, “I’m not an egghead like them. But somehow I always ended up in all the top classes, even though I never did my work. I found out later that my dad was bribing the school,” I snort at that. “And every time I’d fail a test or bring home a report card that wasn’t straight As, they’d have that face. That look of complete disappointment and pity. Like they couldn’t believe that their child could be such a loser, so worthless,” I recall to Bones, “I always felt so stupid. But I’m not; I just don’t care about wasting my time on studying when I could be out doing things.” I sigh. “My entire childhood, being treated like a retard. So I started acting out, and that just made it worse. Then I wasn’t just an idiot. I was an idiot and a criminal. And then there was that one final nail in the coffin and they’d had enough.” I have to concentrate to keep from shaking at the memory and keep my voice steady. “So they sent me to that school. You’d love it, but to me it was hell. Everyone else there was a rich, snooty white kid. I was the outsider and they knew it. My dad’s the whitest guy in the world, but that didn’t matter. From sophomore year to the second I graduated, I was the stupid girl with the dark skin. I never heard the end of it. The dicks’d talk down to me and use fifty-cent insults like I couldn’t understand them. I tried responding with my fists, and I just made it worse again. Then I was the stupid, violent caveman with the dark skin,” I say spitefully. “Eventually, I learned to just ignore them and put it all in a bottle,” I continue, “I joined the boxing club and that let me vent it all without getting in trouble. I’d get to open the bottle and let loose on whatever big lug was in front of me. After I’d beaten some of the toughest guys in the school into the ground, everyone was different,” I say and shake my head. “They were scared of me. I was still the stupid half-breed girl, but now I was dangerous. I wasn’t a caveman; I was a beast. It hurt, but at least they didn’t fuck with me as much, so maybe it was a plus,” I sigh and look down at myself. “And now look at me. Literally a dangerous beast made up of two halves of different things. The universe is cruel bitch with a bad sense of humor,” I mutter. Then I continue back on topic, “I guess I get the kids at school looking down on me. They were assholes and I was different. But my parents? They’re my parents. Why would they do that to me?” I ask, not expecting an answer. “I guess I still haven’t forgiven them. I mean, they’re my parents, and I love them. I just... don’t really like them anymore,” I say with a little bit of wonder. “Huh. I didn’t realize that until just now. I guess I was keeping even more in the bottle than even I knew about. Maybe this ‘talking things out’ stuff is more helpful than I thought. Thanks a lot, Bones.” I roll over to look at her. “You’re a really goo-” I stop myself. She’s asleep. Her eyes are closed and she’s got the most peaceful expression. I want to get mad at her for falling asleep in the middle of the story she asked me to tell. But I can’t be angry with her for sleeping any more than she can be angry with me for last night. A bird’s gotta fly, a Lazy Bones’ gotta sleep. It’s just in our nature. I’m starting to find the balance in following that nature. I’ll let her sleep for now. /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Interlude - Profiles in Ponytude 3 - Sunny Daze > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Interview 3 - Sunny Daze  *Begin recording* Von: Okay, here we go again. Despite my… *interviewer clears throat* earlier failings, we’re going to keep plugging away at this in the interview format. I had contemplated just jotting down each character’s pertinent information, but I want to keep kidnapping the poor fools and subjecting them to a battery of questions. As you just read, I’m a read cruel asshole to my creations. I am going to eliminate the height and weight question though, as well as cut down the number of song picks they and I both pick down to two. So yeah. Without further ado, let’s talk to some ponies. *BAMF!* Von: Welcome! How are you, gentleman? Sunny: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Von: Whoa! Whoa there, guy. Sunny: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Von: Calm down. Sunny. You’re alright. Sunny: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Von: I SAID SHUT UP! *Slapping noise, then silence* Von: Better? Sunny: How did this happen? Von: I teleported you from the story into the non-canon zone. Sunny: No, man. How am I hallucinating? Von: Say what now? Sunny: I never took nothing. I’ve always been so careful. Did somebody slip me something? Von: You’re not hallucinating. I assure you, I’m very much real. Sunny: I bet it was Gilda, wasn’t it? “I’ma big, mean griffon! I’ma put some pot in Sunny’s food! It’s gonna be hilarious!” Von: I’m telling you- Sunny: Oh man! Was it bath salts!? Von: I just want to ask you some questions, Sunny. Sunny: I bet I’m eating some guy’s face RIGHT NOW! Oh man oh man! I’m a vegetarian! I can’t eat people! Von: Okay, good. That’s a start. What is your favorite food. Sunny: Double dark chocolate ice cream. I tried to go vegan once, but I couldn’t live without ice cream. Von: Very good. See? That wasn’t so hard was it? Now we’re getting- Sunny: Dude, I could go for some ice cream right now. Oh no! Is this the munchies? I’ve got the munchies! Noooo! Von: *exasperated sigh* Sunny: This is the worst thing ever! Von: God, I need a drink. And I don’t even drink. Sunny: Me neither. That’s smart, dude. Don’t want to get drunk and lose control of yourself. Von: Sur- Sunny: Like now! Oh god, I’m probably flying under the influence right now! I’m gonna crash and kill a bus full of kids! Von: Oh my god, shut up! *Silence* Von: I am an author. You are a character in a story I am writing. This is an interlude between chapters. I’m conducting an interview so I can put together a profile so the readers can get to know you better. I need you to please calm down so I can ask you some questions. Do you understand? *Silence* Sunny: My hallucination is MEAN. Von: Forget it. Fuckin’... forget it! I’m done. *BAMF!* Von: I don’t know why expected this to be any better. I’m just gonna pull the answers out of his brain and be done with it. I think this may be the last straw. These things are going to give me an ulcer. *Recording ends*   Name:  Former:             Watson, Dave             Current:            Sunny Daze Coat Color:                    mustard-y yellow Mane Color:                   orange-ity orange Eye Color:                      ketchup-y red Cutie Mark:                   content-looking sun Blood Type:                     AB+ Birthday:                        May 2, 1995 Occupation:                    “urban farmer” (marijuana grower) Brony:                            yes Favorite Food:                double dark chocolate ice cream Favorite Drink:              (doesn’t drink) Favorite Color:               forest green Songs: Subject’s picks:   (Despite being told to pick only two, the subject thought about a dozen songs in extremely quick succession. These were the only three able to be made out.                                        It's Not Easy Being Green (Kermit the Frog)                                        Smarter Than U (The Undertones)                                        Bad Moon Rising (Creedence Clearwater Revival)             Author’s pick:     Get In Line (Barenaked Ladies)                                        The Fool on the Hill (The Beatles) Meet One Person:           Billy Mays Super Power:                  flight (subject seems to forget he can already do this) Hobby:                            video games Childhood Memory:        growing a bean in kindergarten First Kiss:                      13 years old, Shannon McKenna, extra sloppy makeouts > Ch. 08: Looking For Group > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 1 – Interesting Times Chapter 8 – Looking For Group (In Which They’re Coming Out Of The Woodwork And Bros Come Before Hoes)   Bored. Bored bored bored. Bored bored bored bored boredboredbored. I’m boooooored. And hot. There’s nothing to fucking do in this lousy fucking tent. And it’s so damn muggy. After Bones fell asleep, I caught a couple Zs myself. Not a lot; just a short catnap. After that, I went out and flew around for a little bit to clear my head. I had to leave the privacy of the trees to get enough space though. I’d only been up there for a few minutes, gliding around in lazy circles, when I heard Sunny shouting up at me. I looked down and spotted him by the tree line frantically jumping around, waving up at me. I wondered why if he wanted to talk to me so bad, he didn’t just come up. So I went down to him. I wanted to dive-bomb him and give him a little scare, but he was right in front of the trees and I wasn’t sure I could do it and avoid smashing my brains all over the place. I wanted to clear my mind, but not like that. Ha, I’m goddamn hilarious. When I landed, he clamped his teeth onto my tail and tried to drag me back into the woods. I humored him. When we were back under cover he chewed me out for flying around in broad daylight and so close to where we were already seen. I hate to admit that he was right. So I didn’t. I just pretended to brush him off. He also told me I didn’t want to be outside when it started to rain. The sky was completely clear, so I just thought he was crazy. I told him so too. There was a weird thing about an hour after that, though. It’s hard to describe, but ever since I finished changing, it’s been like I can sort of feel/taste the air around me. The weird thing that happened was that I actually sensed it change. But it happened slow enough that I didn’t even really notice it happening. Like, at first the air was Cool Ranch and then an hour later it was Nacho Cheese. And after that it started to get really hot and humid. Now Sunny’s being all paranoid about being seen. I mean, after this morning, he’s probably right, but I’ll never admit it to his face. So we’ve been stuck in this stupid friggin’ tent for hours. And there’s nothing to do. I wanted to use Bones’ computer again, but when I opened it I realized I didn’t know her password. It’s guess it doesn’t matter, though, since the battery wouldn’t last very long and there’s no wifi out here. So now we’re stuck together with nothing to entertain us. I realized that in all the excitement, I never really got a good look at Sunny. First it was dark and he was moving around, then I was excited about flying, then we had all that… yeah… this morning. That’s why I checked him out. Yeah, I did. Big fucking deal. Wanna fight about it? He’s not bad looking, I guess. But then again, I’m not really the best judge of attractiveness for guys. Or ponies. Or guy ponies. His hair is bright orange. Does that make him a ginger? Can ponies be gingers? And he’s… yellow. Like a fucking school bus. Put it together, he’s a school bus on fire. His cutie mark is kind of lame. It’s a really mellowed-out sun. His wings look good, though. Nice and big. Is that something that’s attractive to ponies? Or to griffons? Do ponies and griffons even, um, get together? Why am I thinking about this? This is weird, right? Besides, aren’t him and Bones are already getting all kissyface? Am I jealous? Naaah, why would I be? This line of thought is getting really awkw- Oh shit, he’s looking at me! Abort, abort! Look away! Ahem. Yeah. So anyway, after I tried the computer, Sunny and I tried talking for a while to fill the time. He told me about his… “job”. He spent his days fine tuning fertilizer mixtures and types of UV lamps and shit like that to grow the best pot. Then, when he realized he was turning into a full pony, he figured the guy he grows it for would try to take advantage of him, so he threw some stuff in a bag and ran. He described some of the tight spots he got into when he was trying to walk up the state. I told him more about myself and how unbelievably awesome I am. Then I told him a little about Bones and how we’re roommates. When he found out she’s a librarian in New York, he asked if she’d ever seen any ghosts. I laughed and told him not to ask her that. When we met, I asked Steve the same thing. “Jesus H. Christ!” he had ranted, “People hear ‘library’ and ‘New York’ and the only thing they can think of is the main branch with the lions out front from Ghost Busters! There couldn’t POSSIBLY be more than one library in the city!” I still tease him- her- about the ghosts. So then I told Sunny more about how great I am. And then we ran out of shit to talk about and now we’re both super fucking bored. And hot. After how… eventful this morning was, I kinda wanted some peace and quiet, but this is fuggin’ ridiculous. You know what they say; “When it rains, it pours.” “The scale is set. Gemini rides a shooting star. A lone star,” mumbles Bones. Oh yeah, and Bones is talking in her sleep. Every so often she just mumbles random gibberish. Some of it’s really weird stuff too. “That’s starting to creep me out a little bit, man,” says Sunny. “What is?” I ask. “Her.” He points at Bones. “Lazy Bones. That stuff she’s saying.” I just shrug. Sunny continues, "I guess we know where her name comes from. Look at her. Sleepin' in the middle of a summer afternoon." "It's only May. It's not really summer yet,” I correct him. Sunny roll his eyes. "Close enough. You'd never know from the feel of it,” he says in exasperation. He lolls his tongue out and tries to fan himself with his hoof. “It's hot as balls out here. How can she sleep?" Just then, Bones’ eyes shoot open and she quickly sits up. She just sits there, staring straight ahead. “Uh, morning,” I greet her. "The wind... it is blowing,” she says in a dreamy voice. She sounds the same as when she was talking in her sleep. "No, it isn't, Bones. There's not even a breeze,” I tell her, confused. Her eyes are looking straight ahead, but they’re kinda of blank and she’s not seeing anything. I wave a hand in front of her face, but she doesn’t even blink. "The wind is fierce and strong. It roars and rages. The wind is gentle and sweet. It gathers the fallen seeds and blows toward fertile soil,” she continues. "She's lost it,” Sunny says nervously. Bones keeps rambling, "I have scattered the seeds of the future. Time is but a window. Death is but a door. You'll only have sweet dreams now." Then the light comes on in Bones’ eyes and she takes a sharp intake of breath. She scurries backwards up against the wall of the tent and curls up into a ball. She looks around wildly, whipping her head back and forth, her face a picture of terror. Sunny backs up against the opposite wall. “The fuck, man? The fuck!?” he gasps. “What!? How!? Wh-what!?” Bones whimpers. “Hey… easy…” I say and hold out my hands, trying to calm them both down. “The fuck’s wrong with her? She’s freakin’ me out!” Sunny yells. “He- What- They- But- I- How-” Bones sputters. “BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I roar. They turn and look at me. Sunny’s eyes are wide and he’s breathing hard. Bones focuses on me, finally really seeing me for the first time. “Gilda?” she asks in confusion. “No, it’s that other griffon you know,” I say sarcastically and roll my eyes. “How… how are we here?” she asks in bewilderment. “What do you mean?” I ask back. I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something. “We set up the tent, then we talked for a while and you fell asleep in the middle of a conversation. That’s it,” I tell her. “Yeah, but that was a while ago. Then… How did we get back here? Where are…” she trails off. Yeah, there’s definitely some kind of major disconnect here. We’re on two whole different levels with a piece missing from the middle. She probably just had a bad dream and is taking it too seriously. “It was NOT ‘just a bad dream’!” Bones protests. Oy, I really gotta watch that thinking out loud thing. “Hey, it’s cool, dude,” Sunny cuts in, “Everypony has bad dreams sometimes.” Ugh. Did he really just say “everypony”? “I had a super bad one a couple days ago and I almost wet the bed. Well, the tree,” he admits. “I bet even Gilda has ‘em? Right, Gilda?” he prompts me. I almost deny it. I can’t have goofy little shits like him thinking I’m a pansy who gets scared by dreams. But then I think back to the dream I had last night about Discord and Cloudsdale and I have to admit, it was pretty brutal. It was enough that it could get to even the toughest, awesomest badass out there. I mean, that’s me, and I’m still pretty shaken up about it, so it must be true. “Yeah, even me. I had a real bad dream last night,” I tell Bones in a calming voice. “It was about that Discord guy. He-” “Yours too?” Sunny interrupts. “That’s weird. In mine, I was with these ponies. Amber Waves, Golden Sun, Wheat Chaff, Golden Harvest, Sun Catcher. I think there were some others, but I didn’t catch their names. I guess they were my family. At least in the dream. We were working our farm outside Ponyville. Me and Catcher were in the rye field, making some clouds, when there was this big flash in town. Then a lot of ponies were running away from town and coming to our farm, and then Discord came and attacked us.” That IS weird. “In mine, he attacked Cloudsdale. He killed a lot of ponies. And then he zapped me,” I say and shudder at the memory. “Well, he wasn’t in mine,” Bones tells us. “It wasn’t just a dream. It was so real. And you were there. And you were.” She points at both of us in turn. “But there were more. It was real.” “Hey, it’s alright, Bones. My nightmare was really getting to me this morning too. Just take your mind off it and don’t let it bother you,” I repeat. Bones close her eyes. She brings her hooves slowly up toward her mouth while breathing in through her nose. “Infinite patience,” she chants, then blows the air out while moving her hooves outward too. She does this four more times. “Yeah, you guys are probably right,” she admits with a shrug. She changes subjects, “So what are you two up to?” “Not much. We’re bored as shit. Agent Mulder over here won’t let me leave the tent,” I roll my eyes and gesture at Sunny. “Hey, better safe than sorry I always say,” Sunny argues. “Did you…” Bones asks in amusement, “Did you just make a pop culture reference?” “Yeah?” I shrug. “Then you are learning well, grasshopper,” she giggles. Sunny and I share a look. Bones sure calmed down quick. I guess her deep breathing shit works. “What time is it?” she asks out of nowhere. I dig my phone out of my bag and turn it on. I check the time, but also see I have a couple of missed messages. I’ll check those later. “3:00-ish,” I inform Bones. “Really? That late?” she asks in amazement. “Yeah, you’ve been asleep all day,” I confirm. “Jesus. I’ve slept, what, like fifteen of the last seventeen hours. What is wrong with me?” Bones wonders aloud. “I don’t know. I’ve needed a lot less sleep. Maybe it’s just the way these weird bodies are,” I offer. “Sppthhtthhpthhthh!” Sunny blows a raspberry. “I’m bored. You guys are boring me. And why are you always taking note of what time it is? You know what you should do? Start bickering more. You’re funny when you bicker. You’re like an old married couple. Oo! Or start kissing. Lesbians are hot!” he chuckles with a dirty grin. I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna fucking kill the little shit. He’s a dea- Wait. He wants us to… I thought he and Bones were already… “Sh-shut up!” Bones sputters. The inside of her ears are the only place her fur is thin enough to see her blush, but I can see they’re bright red. She punches Sunny in the chest, knocking him over, and she falls on top of him. “Oh baby baby! Threesome!” he cries in delight. She scampers off of him, her ears practically glowing red. “EW! NO!” she squeals. I’m actually kind of offended. She didn’t have to sound that grossed out at the thought of being with me. “Wow, am I really THAT disgusting, Bones?” I ask her, only half teasing. “Erk! No! I didn’t mean it like- Oh jesus,” she backpedals and sinks her face into her hooves. Sunny is giggling away like a drunk hyena. Somehow I think he’s gotten exactly what he wants. “GAMES!” Bones shouts suddenly and very loudly. Sunny and I look at each other, then Bones. “…Games?” we both ask. “Bored! You said you were. I brought games! We play now them… now… games…” she rambles, her eyes darting back and forth. Smoooooth. “Why do you have games?” I wonder. “In case we got bored sitting around in the woods,” she explains like it’s so obvious, “I told you I was I prepared.” “What do you got?” Sunny asks. “I have Cards Against Humanity and Settlers of Catan in the car,” Bones answers. “Which do you prefer?” I don’t know either of them, so I just shrug and shake my head. “Aw man, LB, you’re the best! You’re gonna love Cards against Humanity, Gilda,” Sunny tells me. “Actually, why don’t I bring both?” Bones asks, “We can’t leave until sunset, so we have some time to kill.” With that, she dashes out of the tent toward the car, cheering, “THE SHEEP MUST FLOW!” »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~» “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCKFUCK! LOUSY GODDAMN FUCKING TIRE!” Bones screams and bucks the flat tire in question. We left about eight and drove for about two hours. While we drove we heard news on the radio about people reporting a huge animal flying around the local countryside causing a disturbance, and people were advised to keep their pets inside. I almost drove off the road when I heard that. We’re zero for two on the whole “staying hidden” thing. Sunny had joked, “Hey, you hear that? You’re famous.” We were almost to Sunny’s sister’s place when the tire blew out. Sooo close. Luckily, or unluckily if you wanna look at it like that, we’re away from any towns and back out in the damn woods again. While Bones is raging, I get that weird sensation again where the flavor/feel of the air changes, except this time it’s really sudden. One second it was “melon heated up in the microwave” and now it’s “room temperature glass of blue raspberry Kool-Aid”. “Fuck fucking fuck!” Bones continues screeching, “How can so much bad shit keep happening to us!? This day could not possibly get ANY WORSE!” That’s when the wind kicks up and the rain starts. Of course. Oh I’m sorry, I meant “downpour”. Sunny turns to me and smirks. “Told ya.” I furrow my eyebrows and ask, “You thought I was going to be flying around this long?” “So I was off a few hours. Gimme a break. I’m new at this,” he rolls his eyes. “A few? It was this morning.” While we’re arguing, Bones falls back onto her haunches and slowly looks up at the sky, her mane plastered to her face. She breathes in and out and whispers one “infinite patience”.  She wipes her hair out of her eyes and whispers one more quiet, “fuck”. Then she turns to us with a defeated smile. “Welp, it’s confirmed. The universe officially hates us.” “So you guys can fix this, right?” Sunny asks. “You’re going to make the two ladies do it? Chivalry is truly dead,” Bones jokes. Then she starts toward the trunk. “Let me find the jack.” She digs around to the bottom of all of our crap and pulls out the emergency kit. She plonks it down on the ground in front of us and looks to me. Since I’m the only one with fingers, it’s up to me to open the case and then change the tire. I open it and we peer inside. “Um… where’s the rest of it?” Bones asks. Uh oh. “The main part of the jack itself is here, but the handle is one of those collapsible jobs that also works as the tire iron,” Bones tells us, “It’s not here.” “Uh, that’s not good. Heh heh,” I mutter nervously. “Gil…?” “I don’t know anything about it!” I exclaim. “Gilda.” “Alright! I took it!” I confess. “Gilda!” Bones yells, “Frickin’ why?” “Those punks who live below us kept being really loud at night, so I told them if they didn’t cut it out, I’d come after them with a tire iron. They didn’t believe me,” I explain. Hey, I called their bluff. It seems like a perfectly good reason to me. “So where is it now?” Sunny asks. “I don’t… know? But it’s okay. I replaced it with with one of those four ended ones. See?” I point to the new one in the case. Bones sits there, rubbing her hooves on her forehead in little circles. “Dude, you’re an idiot,” Sunny says, shaking his head. “Hey, fuck you too, buddy,” I snap at him. “What’s the problem?” I ask Bones. She answers, “The old tire iron was the kind that’s also the crank for the jack. Without it, we can’t lift the car.” Ohhhhhhh. “Sorry?” Bones starts her mantra. She brings her hooves upward, takes a deep breath, and “FUUUUUCK!” She stomps her hoof down into a puddle, splashing us all, then storms back over to the tire and starts punching it with her front hooves. “FUCK! THIS! FUCKING! CAR!” she screams and clenches her eyes tight, “FUCK! THIS! FUCKING! TRIP! FUCK! THIS! WHOLE! FUC-” Just then, the hubcap comes flying off, glowing green. I dive out of the way to avoid getting hit. Turns out it wasn’t necessary. If it had kept going the direction it was when it came off the tire, the hubcap would have hit right where I was standing. Except that as soon as it came off, it stopped moving. It’s just floating in midair in a sparkly cloud of yellow-green. Sunny’s mouth and eyes are both wide open. “Duuuude.” Bones is looking around, trying to figure out what happened. “What was that!?” Her horn is glowing the same green as the hubcap, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Ummm… Bones?” “What!?” she snaps as she wheels on me. I point upward and she follows my gaze. First she sees the glow coming from her horn and her eyes open wide. Then she sees the hubcap and all the color leaves her face, the glow cuts out, and the thing clatters to the ground. It spins around in circles before finally coming to a stop, and we all just stare at it. “Duuuuude.” So yeah, Bones can do magic. That’s a thing that happened today. I know she’s touchy on the subject, so I look to her with worry. She’s still staring at the hubcap with the same horrified/disgusted expression you’d see on someone who’s just seen a ghost... having sex... with their parents… and a dolphin. So pretty horrified. Sunny’s looking at Bones too, but he looks like he’s just seen the second coming. Well, the second coming of Floyd maybe. “Wooo! Do it again!” he calls. I’m just about to go to Bones to, I don’t know, comfort her or something to keep her from flipping her shit again, when she cocks her head to the side and starts laughing. It starts low, barely more than a whisper. Then it becomes a giggle, and then a chuckle, and finally a full-on gonna-die-because-I-can’t-breath belly laugh. It’s kinda fuckin’ creepy. “I think Bones broke,” Sunny says, eyeing her nervously. I approach her slowly, carefully. “Heeey theeere. Y’alright there, crazypants?” She abruptly stops laughing. She turns to me, her left eye twitching. “Nope!” she shouts cheerily, “But watch this!” She braces her legs and focuses on the hubcap, squinting at it with all her might. Her jaw is set and she’s glaring at it so hard her whole head is actually shaking. Nothing happens. She relaxes. “You-” She tries again, even harder this time. Her whole body is shaking and she’s making obscene grunting sounds. If I didn’t know what was going on, I’d think she was taking the most violent dump ever. Of all time. Then, there’s a spark. It was so quick and faint, I’m barely sure it even happened, but then another yellow-green spark shoots from her horn. Then nothing. There are no more sparks and nothing moves. I must have tensed up myself because I feel my muscles relax and go all loosy goosey. Sunny’s legs collapse out from under him and he falls on his face. Suddenly, the hubcap, covered in green mist, shoots off the ground, through the air right over Sunny’s head, and embeds itself a good four inches into a tree trunk by the side of the road. “HOLY SHIT!” Sunny and I both cry at the same time. If he hadn’t fallen over, that thing would have taken his head off. Bones starts laughing again. Her horn lights up green at the same time as the hubcap and with some visible effort, she yanks it out of the tree. Then, it goes flying around over our heads, zooming around in loops and figure eights. The whole time, Bones is cackling like a madwoman, “Ah ha ha ha haaaa! Look upon me, mortals, and despair! Pick a god and pray, for nothing can save you from me! I am all powerful! All you knew is at an end! I am your god now!” I have to correct what I said earlier. Bones can do magic AND she’s gone mad with power. Now I’ve got to find a way to put a sleeper hold on a crazy, magic horse. There’s something from the list of things I thought I’d never say. “Wooo! Do a flip!” cheers Sunny. He’s sitting on his rump clapping his hooves and cheering for “the Great and Powerful LB”. Bones even calls herself the same thing and takes a bow. Okay, rain check on the sleeper hold. After a minute or two of this, she stops and puts the hubcap down. “Boo! Don’t stop! Encore!” calls Sunny, “Oo! Oo! Pick me up! Make me fly!” Um, he knows he can already fly, right? “Soooo…” I start, trying to find the right words, “Y’alright? After this morning, I thought you’d be more, I don’t know, pissed off about this whole, you know, magic thing.” “I don’t even care. I give up!” Bones says with a giggle, “Every time I think things can’t possibly get any crazier, they do. So I’ma just call it a wash. Pull an Arthur and just go with it. Reality is completely and totally fucked. Either that, or this is another incredibly realistic dream. Actually, I’m leaning toward the latter. Either way, there’s nothing I can do about it. And besides,” she flashes her horn, “this just feels too good to give a shit,” she finishes, still with a cheerful smile that doesn’t match what she’s saying. “Wellll… okay,” I say, unsure. She thinks she’s dreaming. That can’t be healthy. Well, since she doesn’t care, I may as well go for it. “I know you think you must be dreaming, but I just have that effect on people. Let me pinch you and prove it, then, baby, I’ll make your dreams come true,” I purr, wiggling my eyebrows. Bones blushes and giggles. Sunny clears his throat. “You know, we’re still stuck in the rain with a flat tire and no jack.” “Yep!” Bones chirps. “Yeah, the hubcap’s off, the lugnuts are exposed, and we have a tire iron. But we really can’t take them off, much less the tire, without lifting the car,” I remind them. “LB can lift the car!” Sunny suggests. “Ha ha! How about no?” Bones laughs. “So what are we going to do?” I ask. “We could walk,” offers Sunny. “We’re only, like, maybe ten miles from my sister’s. We could be there in a couple hours.” “What, out in the open where anyone can see us?” I argue. “Oh yeah,” he squeaks. “I have a better idea!” announces Bones. She clops over to the car and magics the passenger door open. Then she magics the glove compartment open and yanks out something red and something grey before trotting over to Sunny. The red thing is an umbrella, which she opens up to shield them from the rain. The grey one is her cell phone, which she gives to Sunny. “Call your sister. Have her bring a jack.” Oh. Why didn’t I think of that? “Why didn’t I think of that?” Sunny echoes what I’m thinking. He takes the phone in his teeth, and then stands there looking confused. “Uh, how a’ I gonna ‘o dis?” “Oh. Right,” Bones says, embarrassed. “Here, allow me.” She uses her magic to take the phone back. She asks him for his sister’s number, then magically dials it for him and holds it up to his ear. Damn, that shits handy. It’s almost better than actual hands. I guess Sunny’s sister was home because he starts talking, “Hey, Beth. …It’s me. …No. Me. ...Your brother. …Yes, Davey! You have another brother I don’t know about? ...I know I sound weird, but it- ...No! ...Yes, I’m sure! ...Hey, I’m calling to ask you a favor. ...Yeah, me and a couple friends are coming up to visit you.” I can hear a voice yelling over the phone and Sunny leans his head away from it. He continues talking, “Whoa hey hey hey, Beth. It’s cool! ...Yeah, I know. ...It’s an emergency is why. ...You won’t believe me. ...No, you won’t. Not over the phone. ...Trust me, it’s a real emergency. We’re coming up to visit for a little while. ...No, we’re not in trouble. ...YES! ...They’re cool. It’s not a problem and no one’s in trouble. ...Like, ten miles. ...Well, I’m SORRY! ...Hey! Mom never said that. …Then you’re really gonna hate this. We have a flat tire and no jack. Could you come and bring us one?” The phone starts screaming again. Sunny leans away and this time, Bones even moves it further from his ear. I can make out the words, “-kidding me! Do you have any idea what time it is?” Sunny leans back in and tries to calm his sister down, “Yeah. ‘S why we need you. You want us to walk ten miles in the dark and the rain? ...Oh come on! ……Alriiight! You’re the best big sister ever! ...Yeah, ‘and the most beautiful and kind’,” he says with an eyeroll, “Um, lemme check.” Sunny looks at Bones. “Where are we?” Bones racks her brain before answering, “Ethan Allen Highway.” Sunny repeats the answer into the phone. He listens, then asks Bones, “Where on Ethan Allen Highway?” Bones thinks about it. “Um, I think the last town we passed was ‘Charlotte’.” “Charlotte,” he repeats and listens. “We’ll be the ponies by the ugly baby blue Volkswagen.” “Hey!” protests Bones. Sunny sticks his tongue out at her and tells his sister, “You’ll know what it means when you get here.” He waits and listens. “Thanks, sis! You’re the best! …Yeah, love you too. See you soon.” With that, he nods at Bones. She hangs up the phone and floats it back into the car. “My sister said she’ll be here in half an hour,” he reports. Well, we’ve got help coming, but now we just have to wait for it. We stand around looking at each other awkwardly, Bones and Sunny under the umbrella, and me still getting rained on. Hmm. I get an idea to at least try to keep the rain off my head. I pick up the hubcap and balance it on top of my head like a wide-brimmed hat. Whatever works, I guess. Thirty seconds down, thirty more minutes to go. “Soooooo… How ‘bout them Yankees?” I offer. “I don’t follow sports,” says Bones. “Me neither,” agrees Sunny. Oy. This is gonna be a long half hour. We spend the next twenty minutes or so standing by the side of the road, mostly waiting in awkward, miserable silence. It’s been a fucked up day and I think it’s getting to all of us. Cars keep passing by and we have to retreat into the brush off the side of the road to hide. We argued about sitting in the car where it’s dry, but we decided we didn’t want to risk being seen by any good samaritans who might stop to help out. Again, I see headlights coming. “Another car!” I call out and we rush back into the wet, prickly bushes. It turns out we made the right decision because as the car gets close, it slows down, pulls over to the side of the road, and comes to a stop right behind our car. Turns out it’s not a car, but a big, fat RV. “It’s a Winnebago,” Bones whispers. She narrows her eyes. “Wait a minute. This seems awfully familiar. ...Noooo. It couldn’t be,” she says, sounding like she’s trying to convince herself of something. “What’s up?” asks Sunny. Bones shushes him, still watching the RV carefully. Nothing happens for a minute or so. Then the door cracks open and something peeks out. “What’s the word, o’ brother of mine?” I hear a voice ask from inside, all smooth and deep, with a bit of music in his words. He sounds like a carnival barker. The thing peeking out the door answers in the same voice, just slightly higher, “I’d call the coast completely clear, brother.” “Nooooo…” Bones breathes. The door swings open and out steps a tall, lanky cream-colored pony with a wavy red and white mane wearing a blue dress shirt. The three of us gasp. The new guy’s horn lights up and a dome of green magic forms over his head, both giving him light and protecting him from the rain. He walks up to our car and looks inside. “Hmm, in my expert estimation, someone appears to have abandoned this automobile post haste. It’s positively packed with provisions!” he calls back to the RV, where another pony has appeared in the door. This one looks identical except he has a red mustache and a pink shirt. He steps out of the RV and over to the first one. “Fuck me, it’s Flim and Flam,” Bones mutters in disbelief. “Who?” I ask. Before she can answer, Sunny let’s out a whoop and shoots into the air. “Shhhhut up!” I hiss at him, but all that’s left where he was is a dust cloud. He’s already on top of the two new ponies, who are surprised at the intruder. “Leaping lizards!” “Great Caesar's ghost!” they cry at the same time, as Sunny dances in the air around their heads, rambling about how big a fan he is. I slap my forehead and let out an annoyed sigh. Bones does the same, only it looks like it hurt more. Silly bitch forgot her hooves. “Well, now I know I’m dreaming,” she says, rubbing her head. “That’s Flim and Flam. Like Gilda, they were minor antagonists in a couple episodes of the show. First, they- Wait, why am I telling you this again? I already had this dream this afternoon. I’m not explaining it to a dream Gilda again.” With that she stands up and trots out of the bushes toward the pair, who are now trying to swat Sunny out of the air. “How am I the not-crazy one here?” I ask no one and follow her. Seriously. How? Normally, I’m the weirdest person in a room. But I guess that’s what happens when I’ve got Sleeping Beauty who thinks I’m a figment of her imagination, and the amazing Super Idiot who’s more ADD than a squirrel on crack. Let’s just get this over with. I join the group of ponies under their green magic dome, where Sunny has finally landed and Bones is introducing us. “Sup,” I nod at them. They look up at me with big toothy grins. “Ah, Gilda, my good griffon! Greetings!” the one without the mustache says. “This mesmerizing mare was just mentioning your monikers. And as you well know,” he gestures to the other one, who points back at the first and announces, “He’s Flim.” “He’s Flam,” the first one quickly adds. “And we’re the world famous Flim Flam brrotherrrrs!” they sing together. What. I can’t even- Did they practice that shit? When did I step into a musical? Sunny applauds the two, “Wooo! Do the whole thing!” “Perhaps later,” Flam waves him off. “When we see some cash,” Flim adds. “If you’ve got something they want, never give it away for free.” I’m still wearing my serious face so they know I’m not amused. “So I guess you two are from the show too?” “You wound me, madam!” Flam exclaims, putting a hoof over his heart. “Guess the girl’s not a fan, Flam,” Flim says. These two are giving me a headache. I politely tell them so. “Alright, cut the carny shit! You’re pissing me off. Someone give me a goddamn straight answer. Who the hell are these two and why should I give a single fuck?” Sunny looks mortified that I’m yelling at his new heroes and Bones looks confused. She mutters something along the lines of “...didn’t happen last time…” Frick and Frack or whoever they are at least look like they’re embarrassed. The mustached one in pink scratches the back of his head. “Ah, we apologize wholeheartedly. I’m sure you’re aware of how overwhelming this mental bamboozle can be.” “Indeed. Kindly accept our amicable apology,” offers the one in the blue shirt. I’m pretty much beyond caring at this point. I just want to get past this shit and get it over with. “Yeah yeah yeah, whatever,” I reply. “So you’re… Flam,” I point to the mustached one, “and… Flim?” I point to the other. “The Flim Flam brothers at your service!” they cheer. Sunny applauds. I scowl. “Sorry,” apologises Flim, “Couldn’t help ourselves. You set us up perfectly.” He clears his throat. “In point of fact, I’m Flim Flim Flam, formerly Fred Flanders, the fantastically fine faceman of our fellowship fraternus. And this fair fellow is Flam Flim Flam, formerly Fran Flanders, our fabulous fixture fixer. Follow? “For fuck’s fake. I mean sake!” I swear. “Your name is Fran?” asks Sunny. If it were possible, I think Flam would sink right into the ground if he could. “Indeed,” he reluctantly admits. “A mere week prior, I was of the female persuasion. Now I find myself on the opposite side of the gender divide,” he says, frowning, his mustache drooping toward his mouth. “Gah! Confounded thing!” he shouts, spitting out a few stray hairs. “And now I’ve unsettled you with my peculiarity.” “Eh, not really,” I reassure him. “Bones here switched teams too.” The brothers look at Bones. “You don’t appear terribly broken up about it,” Flam observes. Bones just shrugs. “You gotta excuse her. She thinks none of this is real. She says she dreamt this whole meeting this afternoon and now she’s dreaming it again,” I explain, shaking my head. Bones rolls her eyes. “Whatevs. I can’t believe my own dream is being passive aggressive against me. That and the rain and the flat tire. Worst dream ever. Of all time.” “Flat tire, you say? Why, we can fix that for ya, can’t we Flam?” “In a jiffy, Flim!” With that, Flam trots back into their Winnebago, then returns levitating a jack and a tire iron with him. “Allow the mistress to show you how it’s done!” he announces and sets to work. Sunny dashes over to help. That leaves me, Bones, and Flim under his magical dome of dryness. He eyes up Bones in a way I don’t like. “So, my fine filly, it’s the old delusional dream drama, is it? Why, I’d hate to simply be a figment of your imagination. I’m too devilishly dashing,” he says with a winning smile. I swear, I can almost see his teeth sparkling. “Sure you are,” Bones says sarcastically. “You do know the way to disprove a dream, don’tcha?” he asks. Bones humors him with a not-at-all convincing smile. “Of course. I’ve read that old story a thousand times.” Then she begins to lecture, “Have someone teach you something you don’t know. You can’t dream something you don’t know. Or you can test it by looking at numbers or words, looking away, then looking back. If they change, it’s a dream.” “Well there you have it! Do you, if I may ask, know any French, my dear?” questions Flim. “No. And I suppose you’re going to teach me?” Bones asks skeptically. “Mais oui, ma petit chou-fleur,” Flim answers. He levitates a notepad and a pencil out of his shirt pocket and flips to a blank page. The pencil dances in the air across the page on its own. He holds it out for Bones to read. When she’s done, I grab the notepad out of the air. It reads, “Avez fait mal quand tu es tombé? Le ciel doit être manquante un ange.” Huh, why did I even bother? I know I don’t know French. I hold out the notepad and Bones takes it in her magic. She reads it a second time and furrows her brow. She looks away for a few seconds, then reads it a third time. Her eyes go wide. “Hot sandwich! This is real!” “Yeah, it’s too bad no one’s been telling you that for half an hour,” I deadpan. Just then, I catch sight of headlights coming up the road out of the corner of my eye. “Car!” I warn. Flam and Sunny have the Passat up on the jack and the lugnuts off, but they don’t even have the flat off yet, much less a new tire. “Everyone into the bushes!” I order. We all rush into the underbrush and crouch down. Flim keeps his shield up to keep us dry, but he pulls it down low right over our heads so it’ll hopefully stay out of sight. We watch as the car slows down and pulls over on the other side of the road. A BMW. Nice. The driver side door opens and an umbrella pops out, followed by a tall, red-headed woman with fair skin. “Oh riiiight...” Sunny chuckles. The woman’s carrying a jack. She looks around and inspects our car. “Dave?” she calls out, “Are you here?” Oh yeah. It’s Sunny’s sister. She was coming to bring us a jack. Christ, talk about lousy timing. This is gonna be an awkward family reunion. I’m just glad it’s not me. “Well, best get this over with, man,” I advise Sunny as I turn to him. All that’s left where he was is a dust cloud. Goddamn him. Sunny’s already trotting over his sister like it’s no big deal. “Hey, sis!” he greets her. Her jack clatters to the ground, along with her umbrella and her car keys, as she sees the pony walking up to her. The look of complete shock on her face would be funny if this weren’t such a fucked up situation. “P-p-p-p-p-” she sputters. “Yep. Pegasus.” Dave grins at her. “Thanks for coming, Beth. You’re the best.” “MONSTEEEERRRR!” Sunny’s sister practically flies back into her car and frantically tries to start the thing before noticing she dropped her keys in the road. “Monster!? Where?” Sunny yelps, looking around. He follows his sister and tries to hide in her car too, only to find the doors locked. “Come on, Beth! Open up! I don’t want the monster to get me!” he pleads, knocking on her window. “You’re the monster!” she shouts at him. “Wait, how do you know my name?” Sunny gets all offended. “Hey! That’s mean! Mom always told you to stop calling me names!” “Davey?” “Duh! I told you we’d be the ponies by the blue car. Come on, keep up!” he rolls his eyes. His sister, still looking completely dumbfounded, rolls the window down. “Davey?” she asks again. “Yeah, it’s me. What’d I just- mrm mrr.” The rest of his response is muffled by his sister grabbing the sides of his face, jerking it up, and staring into his eyes. “Hehhoorm mre,” he mumbles. “It IS you!” she cries. “Hyroo hii wrewrin roh?” She releases his face. “What was that?” “I said, ‘You mind lettin’ go?’” he clears up, “It’s hard to talk with you manhandling me and it’s not gettin’ any drier out here.” “Oh. Sorry. It’s just… you’re a horse!” she apologises. “Pony.” “Right. This is from that show you liked, right?” she asks. “Yeah.” “So what did you do this time?” she accuses. “Hey! Why do ya always assume first thing that I did something?” Sunny protests. “Because you’re my brother- I can’t believe I’m talking to a horse that’s my brother,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “Pony,” he corrects again. “Right, right. You’re my brother and I know you. When we were growing up, you couldn’t go ten minutes without getting into trouble and you always ran to me to fix it. The only times you come up here to visit me is when you’ve gotten yourself into some mess.” Sunny opens his mouth to argue, but his sister cuts him off. “And look at you! You’ve turned yourself into a horse!” “PONY!” the three ponies next to me yell. Sister eeps and looks in our direction. “I turned- You think I did this to myself?” Sunny asks in outrage. “What was that? Who’s out there?” Sister asks. “That’s my friends,” he answers casually, “Come on, I already told ya that.” He turns toward us and waves at us. “You can come out guys!” I try to stand up quickly, but I knock my head on Flim’s shield, accidentally letting out a surprised “CAHW!” Ah, sunvabitch, that smarts. I rub my skull and shoot Flim a look. He just shrugs at me. I look back out and Sunny’s sister is looking fearfully in our direction. “Come on, guys, get out here! You’re scaring my sister,” Sunny orders. Ha. He thinks HE can order ME? Aw man, I was going out anyway, so now it’s going to look like I’m doing what he says. Well whatever. We stand up and step back onto the road. “As touching as this Hallmark family reunion is,” I say, disinterested and picking leaves out of my coat, “Can we get this show on the road? We’re wet, we’re exposed, and you’re making me sick with this crap.” Sister is looking at me a wide-eyed. “H-h-h-” “No, not horse. Pony. Come on, Beth. I gotta keep saying it?” Sunny corrects. “Hawk,” she says, pointing at me. “Griffon, thanks very much,” I correct. Flim clears his throat. “Well. You folks fancy us finally finishing fixing your vehicle or not?” Flam continues, “You go ahead and iron out your various familial conundrums. My brother and myself will iron out your tire,” at that, he takes up the tire iron in his magic, “and be on our way to our own dealings forthwith. Come along, brother.” “Right away, brother!” Flim calls back and they go back to changing our tire. “‘On your way’? Wait, you’re not coming with us? You have to!” Bones calls after them and follows them. Sister is looking all stupid and surprised again, this time at the brothers using their magic. Guess our entrance distracted her from the big green dome over our heads. Speaking of which, they walked away, so I’m getting wet again. I walk over to the things Sister dropped and pick them up. I tuck the jack into my armpit. Does it even count as an armpit now? Between that, and the umbrella and keys in hand, I have to take a weird three-legged gait. Great. Even I can't make this look good. She looks nervous as I approach. I hand her her jack and her keys, but keep using the umbrella for myself. Sunny scoots in close to me to stay dry too. “Here you go. You dropped these.” “Um… thanks.” I thrust my hand at her and she flinches. I don’t let it bother me. If I saw me coming, I’d be intimidated as shit too. “Gayle,” I introduce myself. She looks at my hand and catches on. “Oh. Right. Elizabeth Watson. Liz,” she responds in kind and shakes my hand. Sooooo… “Didn’t you need the jack?” Liz asks. “Oh. Yeah. We did. But those guys,” I jerk my thumb at the brothers, “stopped and lent us theirs right before you got here,” I explain. “Yeah, it’s great!” Sunny exclaims. “It’s Flim and Flam. I mean, it’s FLIM AND FLAM! Isn’t that AWESOME?” He starts to sing, “You’ve got opportunity in this very community! He’s Fl-” I reach over and cover his mouth but he keeps trying to sing through my hand. “Was he always like this?” I ask Liz in annoyance. She nods, “Pretty much.” That’s when Sunny starts licking my hand. Licking. My hand. EUUUUGH. I jerk my hand away from his mouth like it’s on fire. “Traveling salesponies nonpareil!” he finishes. Without even thinking about it, I slap him upside the back of his head. I stare at my open palm for a few seconds in disbelief. Who does that? I hope he’s had his shots. I don’t want to catch anything from him, like rabies. Or stupid. Fan-fucking-tastic. I wipe any spit (and cooties) on his back. “Ow! What’d ya do that for? Come on.” Sunny whines, rubbing the back of his head. Liz shakes her head and laughs. “Yep, you’re my brother all right.” I glare at Sunny and growl, “You’re pushing it, dumbass. You sit here and explain to your sister what’s going on.” I shove the umbrella at him. “He’s all yours,” I announce to Liz and turn to walk away. “Where are you going?” Sunny asks. “Away from you.” I stop, turn around and hook my hand into a claw. “You pull that sort of shit again and I’m using the talons next time.” He gulps. I walk away again, calling behind me, “You’re pushing it!” As I head back across the road, my enhanced hearing let’s me hear the two. “Really, Davey? The old licking thing?” “What? It always worked on you.” As I approach Bones and the brothers, I hear them arguing. “But you need to come with us! We need to stick together,” she’s desperately trying to convince them, flailing her umbrella around in the air. Flim looks up from the tire at her. “Last I looked, chou-fleur, there’s naught we need to do now.” “And especially not with this motley gallery of rogues, Flim,” adds Flam, not even looking up from his work. I step under their magic dome. “Hey guys. Anything I can do to help?” I offer. “Thanks, but no thanks, Big Bird,” Flim dismisses me. “It’s a tire, not an advanced technomagical cider making marvel. I do believe we’ll be able to manage this project by our lonesome,” Flam adds, even more dismissive. “Believe it or don’t, there’s more to Flim and Flam than just these fantastically fine faces.” “But we’d be much obliged if you’d take your... enthusiastic companion out of our immediate vicinity.” “Look,” Bones pleads, “I know you don’t believe me, and I can't explain why, but it’s VERY important that you come with us. How about just one night? Call it a leap of faith.” Flam continues tightening lugnuts in silence until, “If you insist.” “Brother, surely you can’t be serious.” The two share a look and then laugh. “With all due seriousness, Flim, I reckon, ‘how painful could one night possibly be?’ We need a location to hunker down for the night, then we can attempt another border crossing in the morning,” Flam reasons with his brother. “Well, I suppose that’s some sound sense you’re making, Flam,” Flim admits. “I always was the brains of the outfit, brother,” smiles Flam. He places the hubcap back into place. “Annnd finished. Better than the day it rolled off the assembly line, if I do say so myself.” Flim turns to Bones, “Alright, you’ve poached us, ma petit. Provisionally. Prepare the path, and Flim and Flam will follow.” Flam cuts in. “I apologise on my brother’s behalf. He doesn’t intend to befuddle with his flowery wordplay. Allow me to elucidate.” What the fuck is he even saying? He makes even less sense than the other one. “What my brother means to say around all the fancy linguistics is we’ll follow you to your friend’s residence and stay a night. Now if you’ll excuse us.” The brothers grab their tools and float them back into their Winnebago. They pause at the door. “Lead the way!” Flam calls. “And Flim and Flam will follow!” Flim adds. With that, they go inside, shut off their magic dome, and close the door. Jesus. Just listening to those two is exhausting. I personally wouldn’t mind if we never had to see them again, but Bones seems pretty dead set on bringing them along, so whatever. I turn to her. “Wow, you really wanted them. Sooo… That was… a thing.” “Don’t ask.” “I didn’t,” I point out. “It’s nothing. Just saving the course of the future,” she says. “I didn’t ask.” “Because I know the future,” she keeps going. Sure you do, Bones. Sure you do. And I’m the President. “I dreamt it.” I change the subject. “Oh look, here comes Sunny.” Sure enough, he’s trotting toward us with a big grin on his face. He gets right up next to Bones under her umbrella. “Good news, dudettes. My sis is setting us up. She’s gonna lead the way and we just gotta follow her. Oh man, real bed here I come!” He looks giddy for that last part. “You’re riding with us? Why don’t you go with her?” I wonder. Sunny awkwardly paws the asphalt with his hoof. “She didn’t want me to get her seats all wet and smelling like wet pony.” Bones’s face darkens in a realization. “Aw man! Now MY seats are going to get all wet and smell like wet pony.” I clap her on the back. “Don’t forget wet bird. Now let’s get this party going.” The three of us pile into the car. Liz turns her Beemer around and we follow after her, the brothers’ RV trailing behind us. Our own little crazy train. As I drive, I can’t help but think about how crazy it really is. It’s hard to put into words. It’s just a feeling I have. There’s something in the back of my mind, like a little whisper telling me that something isn’t right; that something doesn’t add up. “I don’t like this,” I say aloud. “What part? The part with the car trouble or the part where we got rained on?” Sunny asks sarcastically. “Or, you know, the part where we turned into ponies? Don’t forget that.” “No, it’s all of it,” I try to explain. Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s not that something doesn’t add up. It’s that everything adds up. “It’s too perfect.” “Oh yeah? What is?” he asks. “Everything. Steve and I just happen to be roommates for all this time even though we’re can’t stand each other most of the time.” I glance over at her. She’s looking out the window, either ignoring the conversation or… or I don’t know. “Then we find you in the woods. All the land within a day’s drive of New York and we just happen to run into you. And then we break down just long enough in exactly the right spot to meet these Flim Flam guys?” “Yeah, it was pretty lucky,” Sunny agrees. “No,” I disagree, “Lucky is finding ten bucks on the ground. The odds of this are, like, I don’t know, impossible or something. I don’t know about statistics and shit. Bones, help me out here.” She doesn’t even look over. She just shrugs and makes an “I dunno” sound. I snort. Some help. “So what are you gettin’ at?” Sunny asks. “Come on, you’re the conspiracy nut. Do I have to spell it out for you? ‘Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.’” I say, trying to sound as wise and ominous as I can. Bones looks at me in surprise. “Where the hell did you pull that from? You’ve read Fleming?” I laugh. “Of course not. I must have heard you say it or something.” I get serious again. “It’s just, I think that there’s something going down. Something terrible. Like, worse than humans randomly turning into ponies. And with the way these ‘coincidences’ and all this other crazy crap keeps happening, I’ve got this nagging feeling that someone’s pulling all our strings.” “I’m not really a fan of puppets,” Sunny mutters from the back seat. Really? That’s what he took from that? I’m not even going to respond to that. He picks up on our silence. “What? They have those creepy, dead eyes. Give me the frickin’ willies,” he shudders. Sigh. What did I do to deserve this moron? And Bones is being no help. “Hey, wait,” Sunny says, his nose pressed against the window. He better be careful, last time he had his face against the glass, he ended up with a head wound. “You took a wrong turn.” “I’m just following your sister.” He looks in front of us and sees she’s still leading us. “This isn’t the way to her place. Where’s she taking us?” he asks worriedly. I shrug. “Guess we’ll find out.” That little feeling in the back of my head that seems like it knows what’s going on but doesn’t want to share is chafing me again with this new development. “Strings, man.” I mutter, more to myself than to the others. Then I ask Bones again, “Hey, what do you think about all this?” Bones slowly turns to me and gives me this look. Just the deepest, most cryptic look with this haunted thousand-yard stare. “I’m working on it,” she says. Well, that’s not ominous at all. “Come on, what aren’t you saying?” I prod her. She turns back toward the window. “You wouldn’t believe me,” she says hollowly. Is she mad at me? What the hell did I do now? Fucking women, man. After another couple minutes, Sunny worrying the whole time, Liz turns into a driveway and we pull in after her. “This isn’t her house. Where are we?” Sunny asks. Like we’re supposed to know. “She’s your sister,” I remind him. The driveway is maybe five hundred feet long and doesn’t actually come up to the house, which is maybe a hundred feet to the right, set mostly into the woods. It comes up next to a nice inground pool right by the treeline. Then surprisingly, it curves sharply to the right through the trees and circles around the back of the house, ending in an attached garage on the opposite side. Liz pulls off to the side of of the garage entrance and we pull into the empty garage. The Winnebago stops further back because not only are they not getting that fat bitch in here, but they can’t even get close due to low hanging branches over the driveway. I turn the car off, and we get out.  Liz is unlocking the door into the house with key. I walk to the edge of the garage and look around. The house looks big, set back in the woods, nice and private. The crazy backwards driveway is pretty perfect for privacy too. Yeah, this looks like a pretty good spot. I think we can work with this. While I’m looking around, Flim and Flam are coming over from their RV and Sunny is practically on top of his sister. “Beth! Where are we? This isn’t your house! You said we could stay at your house!” Liz gives him a sidelong glance. “That was on the phone, before I knew you had four friends with you and you were all talking horses on the run,” she explains. “I’m not,” I chirp, but they ignore me. “So?” Sunny demands up at her. “What’s that got to do with anything?” “Davey, putting you up for a night is one thing. But I can’t have five cartoon horses staying with me for an indefinite amount of time,” she tells him. I notice she isn’t looking right at him; more to the side just next to him. “Why not?” “What would I tell my boyfriend?” she asks. Sunny laughs. “What? You don’t have a boyfriend.” Liz isn’t laughing. In fact, she looks irritated. “Dave, you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Maybe if you didn’t just call on me when you need me to do something for you, you would.” Sunny’s mouth opens and closes a few times, but he doesn’t manage to say anything. For the first time, Liz looks right at him. “You want something from me? Here it is,” she says and gestures around at the house. “Take it or leave it and don’t complain.” I could make a joke about gift horses, but I’m staying out of this family feud. This is painfully awkward just to be near. Bones, Flim, and Flam, and I are all off in a little group to the side, sitting on our haunches, looking really uncomfortable and trying to avoid this mess. But maybe if I can change the subject, I can rescue us all from choking to death on all this awkward. “Um… about that,” I start and raise a finger. “Who’s house is this exactly? Are they going to be cool with, uh… this?” I ask, waving at our little group. Liz turns to me, but again, she’s doesn’t really look me in the eye. Her eyes are pointed slightly to my right. What’s up with that? “This is one of my listings,” she answers my question. I just don’t know what that answer actually means. Listing? The fuck is that? Sunny must have seen my confusion, because he fills in the blank. “Beth is a realtor.” “The number two realtor in Burlington and number four in all northern Vermont,” she says with pride. “This house is one of my listings. Right now, no one lives here, so this is where you’re staying.” “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Bones starts. Ugh. Well I guess someone was going to say it. “but doesn’t that mean there are going to be people coming through to buy the house?” “No. It was in escrow, but the inspector found a problem with the roof and the deal fell through. I can’t show it again until the roof is fixed and the roofer won’t be here for a couple weeks. That’s why I picked this place,” Liz answers. “So we have permission to enter the domicile?” asks Flam. “Dandy!” exclaims Flim, and they trot into the house. “Wait!” Liz yells after them, but they’re already inside. “Oh forget it. I have to go.” “Go?” Sunny asks. “But we just got here.” “Yes, you did. You settle in. I have to go,” she says and turns to leave. “But, you could stay and we could, uh, you know, like, hang out. Like brother and sister, like you were saying,” Sunny suggests. Liz sighs, but doesn’t turn back to look at us. “I have to get home. I was in the middle of something when you called and it’s getting late anyway. Some of us have jobs we have to get to in the morning,” she shoots at her brother. “I have a job!” She shakes her head. “When you can show me your W2, you can tell me all about it. But right now, you stay here. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She starts walking to her car. Sunny starts after her. “But what about food and-” “We’ll talk tomorrow!” Liz cuts him off and gets into her car. Sunny stops and stares as she drives off. He slumps to the ground. “I think my sister hates me,” he whimpers. Awww jeez. Now I’ve got to go and cheer up another sad pony. When did my job as a PT change from personal trainer to pony therapist? Ah well. Time to turn on the old Gilda charm. I sidle up to him and reluctantly pat him on the back. “There there… big guy.” Eww, it sounds weird even as I say it. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. Just, you know, give her time.” I grab him by the shoulders and lift him to his hooves. “Why don’t you go inside, get some water and get your head on straight. Bones and I will start unpacking.” Sunny mumbles an “okay” and heads into the house. I head back over to our car and pop the trunk. I grab a couple bags and dump them on the ground. “Okay, let’s put that magic of yours to work, Bo-” I turn to talk to Bones, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Fuck, when did she disappear? Goddamnit, I gotta do this all by myself? I growl, then grab a bag in my beak and start unloading. No respect. I get no fucking respect. It takes me about twenty minutes to fully unload the car. By myself. During that time, no one offers to help, the dickbags. When I’m done I go and look for my missing “friends”. I find Bones in one of the bedrooms, curled up in the corner with a pillow. “Huh, where’d she get that?” I ask no one. “The poor pony was pooped, so I presented her my pillow,” I hear to my left. Flim is sitting by the window, reading by moonlight. How did I not notice him there? And where did he get the pillow? I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you doing in here with her?” “Why, just reading!” he says innocently and levitates his book for me to see. “Yeah, okaaayyy… But that better be the only thing you’re doing, Romeo, or your brother isn’t going to be the only one of you to get a sex change,” I threaten. His eyes go wide and he makes a little “eep”. “I Pinky promise,” he says with some weird salute. Um. Okay. He doesn’t have pinky fingers anymore, but I’m not going to ask. “Where are the others?” I ask. “Brooding,” he answers. “Fran- pardon, I mean Flam, is in the RV, moping most miserably. He’s not taking this transformation too terrifically. And last I saw Sunny, he was off sulking somewhere. “Yeah, okay, thanks,” I nod and leave the room. Well that answers that. I’m still too keyed up to rest myself. I already unloaded the bags. I guess I may as well unpack them too. Then maybe I can get a flight in. I take my time with unpacking. It’s almost hilarious the things I brought with me. All these clothes. Running shoes? Hiking boots? What the hell was I thinking? Past me was an idiot. Jesus, was that really only two days ago? It feels like forever. I almost pitch the running shoes out the window, but I stop myself. It wouldn’t do any good. I guess I can at least keep them as a souvenir. The food goes in the cupboards, the water in the fridge, etc, etc, etc. I’m finishing up with the kitchen stuff when I hear some yelling from upstairs, followed by hoofsteps. “Gilda!” Flim calls out. I rush over and meet him at the bottom of the steps. “What’s wrong?” I ask him, worried. “It’s Lazy Bones,” he says, with both concern and fear in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s the matter with her. She’s having some form of conniption. She’s talking in her sleep.” I hear Bones shout something from upstairs. I fly up the stairs (At least, figuratively. I’d do it literally if there was space) and into her bedroom, Flim hot on my tail. Bones is tossing and turning, moaning and babbling nonsensically. Occasionally, she manages words like, “run,” and “Honey, help,” and “hide, Daisy!” “Bones, wake up!” I shout at her. No dice. I shake her gently and call her name, but that just causes her to yelp. Shit, I didn’t mean to make things worse. I feel helpless. Isn’t there anything I can do? She says one more thing, “I’m sorry, Show Tunes,” and then starts to calm down. Whew, looks like I don’t have to do anything after all. She lies still and I sit down hard on my rump. What a fucking thing that was. Flim looks petrified. Suddenly, Bones laughs. It’s a horrible sound. A guffaw that’s simultaneously goofy and sinister. I can feel the blood drain from my face. I recognize that laugh. Bones is still sleeping, but she has a manic grin on her face as she starts to sing. “Five score, five score, divided by four,” she starts in a slow, haunting melody. Holy shit. Not that. Anything but that. Flim looks about ready to shit himself. “Five score, five score, divided by four. Your memories removed, your bodies confused! And now a fun game we will play! Cast off to a land far far away! How long will it be? Not a day, not a week! Your mind shall be weak, your outlooks bleak! Forgetting everything and living like a fool, You've all lost, and I win. Why? ‘Cause I rule!” The song ends and she screams; ear-piercing and blood-curdling. She stops mid-scream, like something cut her off. Then she quickly sits up and stares straight ahead, her eyes unfocused. This again. “Don’t you think the joker laughs at you?” Bones starts in her dreamy voice. I don’t know why, but I something tells me this is important and I should get the others so they can hear it too. “Stay here and watch her,” I bark at Flim and rush out of the room. “What?” he calls after me. “Just fucking watch her!” I order and I’m already half way downstairs. I know where Flam is, so I’ll get him first. I dash out the door and over to the Winnebago so fast, my paws barely touch the ground. My wings may be be helping with that. I throw open the door and find Flam in the middle of a conversation with Sunny. Good. Two birds. They both look over at me in surprise. “Come quick!” I scream. “What?” asks Flam in confusion. “Just fucking come quick!” I repeat, then turn around and sprint back toward the house, not even bothering to see if they’re following. I get back up to Bones and she’s still zoned out. This is a lot longer than last time. Sunny and Flam burst into the room a little behind me. “-for ever, it seems,” Bones drones in an empty voice. She stops talking. We probably just caught the tail end of it. She blinks and her eyes focus. “Bones?” I ask cautiously. She hears my voice and turns at the sound. She sees us all standing there staring at her. “Guys,” she croaks. She pauses and swallows. “I know what’s going on.” /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Intermission > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- '~-_-~@~-_-~' '~-_-~@~-_-~' '~-_-~@~-_-~' '~-_-~@~-_-~' End of Part 1: Interesting Times Start of Part 2: The Road To Nowhere '~-_-~@~-_-~' '~-_-~@~-_-~' '~-_-~@~-_-~' '~-_-~@~-_-~' > Ch. 09: The Spotless Mind > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 2 – The Road to Nowhere Chapter 9 – The Spotless Mind (In Which The Truth, No Matter How Improbable, Is Revealed. [Also: More Talking.]) So here we are again. Gather around for storytime. We’ve been holed up in Liz’s empty for-sale house for four days now. It’s been four long, painfully boring days since Bones had her big, bad freakout and told us the truth. Or at least, it’s what she thinks is the truth. Frankly, I’m not so sure. But none of the rest of us have any proof to suggest she’s wrong, much less any other ideas. In any case, Bones said a lot of real heavy shit, both before and after she “woke up”. When we pieced it all together, it sounded a little something like this: Bones says she was having a dream about, I don’t know, like, field hockey or something. Must have been, since she said something about pucks in mid-summer or some crap. Whatever. She said she was doing something with robins’ bottoms when suddenly her dream shifted and she was running with a bunch of other ponies in a city called Manehattan. Yeah, I know. The pun makes me want to throw up too. She says they were running from that Discord asshole. That lines up with what Flim said. He said he was reading and she was sleeping when she suddenly started moaning stuff about running and hiding. I heard some of that too after he came and got me. Then, of course, she went all psycho and started singing. She said what we heard was the song Discord was singing in her dream. That’s when she went into that weird trance thing and I ran out to get the others. Flim filled us in on what she said.         “Don't you think the joker laughs at you? I am he, as you are he, as you are me, and we are all together. See how they fly like Lucy in the sky? See how they run. Six blind mice. How happy is the blameless vestal's lot. The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. Each prayer accepted, and each wish resign'd" He said she paused there, then continued. “We are the music makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams;— World-losers and world-forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams: Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world for ever, it seems.” When we told Bones later what she’d been saying, she recognized most of it as poetry, though the beginning was song lyrics. Fuck if I know what any of that means. When we asked her what she was dreaming when she recited all that, all she would say was, “the truth” and then she clammed up. But anyway, after that last bit of poetry, that’s when she woke up for real and told us she’d figured it all out. She told us that she’d had a “zapped by Discord” dream too, just like me and Sunny, and that, like I’d said earlier, “Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.” That it was all real. That what we all saw weren’t dreams, but memories. That this “Equestria” was a real place, and she’d seen it. She said while she sleeps, she sees visions of the past, the present and the future. She honestly thinks that not only was a cartoon really real, but we were characters in it that got cursed by Discord; turned into humans for exactly twenty five years, and now we’re turning back. Problem is, like I said, we can’t prove her wrong. Even worse, everything points to her being right. Turns out Flim and Flam had the same kind of dream. Except they were in some place called Canterlot, setting up an automated cider-making facility when it happened. That, and the magic, and the fact that we all feel weirdly right like this, and that niggling feeling that we’ve got some connection pulling us together and moving us around like pawns. I don’t quite buy it, and the jury’s still out, but it’s hard to argue with the evidence. I still think Bones knows more than she’s letting on, but she’s playing it close to the vest. I’ll never admit it, but every time we hear her sleep talking, I get kind of nervous. Yeah, that’s right. “Every time”. It wasn’t a one-time deal. She keeps having these episodes where she mumbles in her sleeps and sometimes she’ll kind of “wake up” into some sort of trance and lay some fortune cookie-style shit on us. It’s mostly, like, poetry or song lyrics or some other pop culture reference. I can’t help but shake the feeling it all has some deeper meaning, but mostly it just sounds completely random. It’s pretty fucking annoying. Like, for example, we all calmed down from Bone’s big truthbomb and eventually all went to sleep. Then about dawn, she starts talking again. Doesn’t even wake up. Just, “The line in the sand is not to be crossed. The scale is weighed down.” I don’t think that was exactly it, but it was like that. I noticed Flim and Flam were gone and I looked outside just in time to see their Winnebago driving off, just like they said they were gonna. So okay, we wrote them off and went about our business settling in. But when we checked the internet, we found out there’d been an incident the night before: there was this huge clusterfuck on the west coast where they thought there were missiles flying and all sorts of World War III type shit and the country was pretty much on lockdown. It was the middle of the night there, but it would have been about dawn here, just about the time Bones started her thing. Then that afternoon, who comes trucking back up the driveway, but the same carny jackasses? After they came back, they told us more about themselves. For starters, they’re Canadian, but have dual citizenship. They have enough money that they don’t have to work, so they travel around in their RV, just touring the continent. They happened to be in the U.S. when they turned into ponies, so they tried to get back across the border to get home. Problem was, there was this terrorist attack in Seattle about a week ago and the government beefed up border security a little. Nothing too bad. It wrecked their first try, but with the right finesse, they probably could have worked their way across that morning. That is, if the shit hadn’t just hit the fan a couple hours earlier and caused the military to close the borders up tighter than a nun’s asshole. So Flim and Flam’s attempt to get home failed. They tried again on the second day. No dice. Now they’re staying here with us too; at least for now. If they hadn’t stopped to help us fix our tire, or if Bones hadn’t convinced them to stay the night, they probably would have made it. Did she know? Is that why she just wanted them to stay the one night? Because she knew it would be more than one? She did say that she’s actually seeing the future in her dreams, like when she saw meeting Flim and Flam before it actually happened. Naah. Personally, I think it’s a fat load. I mean, yeah, we magically turned into ponies (and a griffon), and she can levitate stuff with her mind, but seeing the future? Okay, yeah, it’s not any less believable, but come on. I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t want to believe it. Maybe I just don’t like people telling me what to do. I mean, if she knows what’s going to happen, then that means it’s already going to happen and I have no say in it. I don’t like being tied down by crap concepts like “fate”. I gotta fly free. And I have been. Flying, that is. In my free time. (Great segue, right?) The five of us have had nothing but time on our hands. Well, I have time on my hands. The rest of them don’t have hands. Ha. Sunny’s been watching the Pony show and trying to make me join him. I’m embarrassed to admit I watched a couple episodes with him. It’s terribad. He’s also been dicking around in a little garden out back, trying to grow flowers and mushrooms. Flim and Flam… do Flim and Flam stuff. I dunno. The way they talk annoys me, so I avoid them, and they seem plenty happy to stay mostly in their RV. But they’re growing on me. Kinda. Bones, when she isn’t sleeping, has been monitoring the internet (she asked Liz to get us some internets) for news of any others in our situation. Or at least that’s what she says. She’s probably just watching cat videos. And yesterday, I walked in on her in the middle of a Skype call. With video! And her sister was really excited to see me! The hell? What part of “we have to stay hidden” did she not understand? She was the one who told me that in the first place. I don’t care that it was her little sister’s fifteenth birthday. I don’t care that they were really close and the pony show was something they both had in common and she had promised not to tell anyone. I don’t care that she said she was a big fan of mine and that she had the cutest little English accent. I’m Gilda! I don’t find things cute! Bones has been texting her family every day. She should just stick to that. We got into a big shouting match over it and I told her all of that. Thing was, the call was kinda still going and Bones’ sister called me a “big meanie”. I mean, is it mean to want to prot- Wait, I think I’ve gotten off track here. Where was I? Oh yeah. I was summarizing what we’ve been up to. Everyone else has been lounging around doing their things, but me? I spend every chance I can get stretching my wings. I can’t go up in the air during the day, but the nights are mine. The house is right on the edge of a patch of forest about a mile wide and a half mile deep with a brook running through it. Beyond that is a freeway, then the city gets more dense north and west. During the day, I explore the woods at ground level, and I even tried fishing in the brook. No luck there. Too small, nothing to really fish. At night, I explore the area by air, mostly south and east. I only sleep maybe four hours at the most anymore. While cruising the “neighborhood”, I discovered a housing development a couple roads away, where all the street names are birds like, “Chickadee”, “Woodthrush”, and “Mockingbird”. Always with the birds. That’s off a street called “Spear”. The Cloudsdale Guard used spears in my dr- well, memory, I guess. Then Spear connects to the road our house is on: Swift Street. “Swift” like the kind of bird, but also like the name I heard in my… memory. “Gilda Swiftwing”. I swear I’m not making this up. I feel like the universe is mocking this bird. It’s not even humorously ironic like some of the puns I’ve had to deal with lately from this group of weirdos. It’s just weird. I know it makes me sound like a paranoid nutjob like Sunny, but that feeling of someone pulling our strings just won’t go away. There’s no way it’s coincidence that the place we shack up just happens to share my name and refer to birds. I mean, obviously it wasn’t random that we’re in this house. Liz brought us here. But I just mean it’s like something bigg- you know what, whatever. Like I said, I’m probably just being paranoid, and that’s definitely not like me. I’m not usually the delicate, cautious type. Speaking of Liz, she didn’t come back until the next evening. Sunny was starting to think she’d forgotten about us until she came bearing gifts. She brought us some food, (She didn’t realize the rest of them are vegetarian now. I’ve got a lot of frozen pepperoni pizza to work through.) disposable dinnerware, and a couple inflatable mattresses. Bones at least was thankful for the last one, and whatever she did to get us internet like I said earlier. But I don’t need no stinking mattress. I actually tried out Sunny’s “cloud bed” thing and holy shit, man. I’m not sure I can go back to regular beds. The first time was the other night when I was out flying around. I was getting tired, so I tested a cloud to see if I could take a break on it. Next think I knew, I was waking up as the sun was rising, drifting along on a cloud, no idea where where the fuck I was. Well, I figured it out, dragged that puppy back with me, and now I’m keeping it in the bathtub. I named it Claude. Liz isn’t happy about it. Then again, Liz doesn’t seem happy about a lot. That first day, she just came, dropped off our supplies, and left, even though Sunny tried getting her to stay. I’m not sure she likes him very much. Or at least, not right now. On the second and third nights, she stayed and talked with Sunny a little while, and even sat and watched an episode with him, but I could tell it was strained. She doesn’t seem to like looking at him. And she avoids the rest of us pretty much altogether. When she sees magical stuff, like the unicorns levitating things or my cloud in the bathroom, she freezes up. She got mad and told me I “can’t keep clouds in houses”. I responded, “Sure I can. See?” and grabbed a chunk of cloud. She just sputtered and walked out. Whatever. So yeah, that brings us to now. It’s now the end of our fourth full day here in Vermont, and we’re getting a little stir crazy just waiting around. Thrilling, huh? I know, I know. I’m an awesome storyteller. Applause now, please. »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~» Knock knock. Knock knock! “Yo! Yu hum?” I call out at the door to the Winnebago. My question is muffled by the toolbox I’ve got gripped in my beak. “Who the devil is intermeddling in my business?” I hear from inside. Yeah, they’re home. “Me!” “Who?” “ME!” “The deuce do you want?” “I hrehurning yer htooss!” I answer. I hear the clip-clop of hooves coming to the door just before it’s thrown open. “WHAT!?” Flam shouts and stands there scowling at me. Wait, Flam? I still have a hard time telling them apart. Lessee, mustache? Check. Pink shirt? Check. Yeah, it’s Flam. “Oh, it’s only Gilda.” I drop the toolbox near his hooves. “No, it’s that other griffon you know.” Seriously, who else could it have been? There are only five of us here, and it obviously wasn’t Sunny or his brother. He rolls his eyes at me. “I’m really quite engrossed at the moment. Why have you come calling?” “I told you. I’m returning your tools,” I repeat, and point to the box. “Well now you’ve returned them. Good day,” Flam dismisses me and slams the door. Jeez, how’s that for hospitality? I turn around and start toward the house. The door opens behind me. “Lazy Bones was asking after you. And I reckon supper has already begun,” Flam calls after me before slamming the door again. What bug crawled up his ass? As I continue to the house, I think back on why I borrowed the tools in the first place. Earlier today, while out romping around the woods, I found the remains of an tiny shack, like an old playhouse. I had this great idea to fix it up and stick it in a tree so that if we were going to be staying here for a while, I could have my own little treehouse. Problem was, the thing probably hadn’t been touched in forty years and it was little more than some rotted planks by now. And I didn’t have any tools. Or lumber. Or building experience. Well tools were easy enough to get, and I figured, hell, I was surround by fresh wood. Yeah, it didn’t go very well. It killed most of the day anyway. As I enter the dining room, I find Bones and Flim sitting at a folding card table Liz brought for us the other day. They’re eating vegetables and some, I don’t know, oatmeal or some other pony food, and talking quietly to each other, Bones giggling. I gotta hand it to the guy; he works fast. He must be one charming motherfucker. I clear my throat and they look up. Bones blushes at me. I plop my ass down on the floor next to the table and ask, “What are we having?” “Yours is keeping warm in the oven,” Bones tells me. Oh. I know what that means. Pizza again. I get back up and, using a towel to protect my hand, retrieve my pizza. Guess Bones was right. Towels are handy. I set it down on the table, grab a pair of scissors to cut it, then sit back down and dig in. In between bites, I turn to Flim. “Why’s your brother such a grouchy ass?” “Grouchy, Gilda?” he quirks an eyebrow at me. “Why, that simply doesn’t sound a snippet like Flam.” He humms a bit. “Oh. Oh my. You didn’t intermeddle in his inventing, did you?” Guilty. “Yeessss?” Flim shakes his head. “Eureka! The answer appears. While I’m chronically the more charismatic of the couple, Fran is ordinarily simply sweet as sugar, if a smidge shy. But when she’s wrapped up in work… watch out!” “What work?” I know I probably don’t want to know, but I ask anyway. “Why… ingenuity! Inspiration! Imagination! Innovation!” he announces with wonder in his voice. “Huh?” “Invention, my little, dizzy dodo bird!” he grins. I was right. This is one charming motherfucker. He can insult me to my face and make it sound like a cute little pet name. But I’m still gonna bust his face. Before I can, though, Bones cuts me off, “What do you mean ‘invention’? Is Flam an inventor? “Indeed!” Flim answers. “What, like Thomas Edison? Who’s specifically an ‘inventor’ anymore?” I ask as disrespectfully as I can. I’m still annoyed at him. “Why, we are!” he answers. “Though, I must admit Flam is the ninety nine percent perspiration. I’m just the one percent inspiration. Also, the advertising agent. I’m one hell of a hawker, if’n I do say so myself.” “Have you made anything we’d have heard of?” asks Bones, intrigued. “I should say so!” Flim bellows and stomps his hooves. “I have a hunch you’ve heard of the Kitchen Witch?” I haven’t. “I actually have,” says Bones. “It’s that food processor thing they’re always playing those corny infomercials for. The ones with that gangly ginger.” “Gangly?” Flim puts on a hurt look and holds his hooves over his heart. “Ow! My pride! It pains me! I thought myself pretty. Pulchritudinous even.” Okay, that’s not a word. Bones is drinking a glass of juice, but when she hears this, she spit-takes. “THAT WAS YOU!?” Flim chuckles. “Just put your ingredients in the top," he recites with a practiced flair and then starts humming a little jingle. “It slices and dices! Peels and chops! Blends, mixes, juices! It won't stop!" He waves his forelegs with a big flourish. “There you have it folks! This little miracle processes your food exactly like you want it EVERY TIME! Like magic! Kitchen Witch!” Oh my god, man, oh my god. I’m embarrassed just watching it. I can’t imagine being the one doing it. “You actually did that on TV?” I ask him in disbelief, “Like, with people watching?” Flim just shrugs. “Eh, it’s a living.” “Still, I can’t imagine doing that in front of people, much less on TV,” I shake my head. “Is it an issue?” asks Flim, sounding insulted. Open beak, insert paw. I hold up my hands. “No, not really an issue. It’s just that people have eyes. And can see with them. I’d be really embarrassed to act like an idiot on TV,” I reassure him. Smooth. See? I can be charming too. “Plus, Gilda, there’s the pay. I’d imagine he did get a decent paycheck out of it,” reasons Bones. “I didn’t do it for money,” Flim says. “You didn’t?” Bones asks, “Then w-” “I did it for a shitload of money! Mountains!” Flim smirks. Of course. I guess we walked into that one. He continues, “Why shell out the simoleons to someone else to sell the stock? Fran fabricates the featured thingamajig, Fred flaunts it. We largely do the labor ourselves and keep the lion’s share of the loot.” “That’s sensible, I guess,” offers Bones. “You guess? Conjecture?” Flim cracks a cocky grin, “We’re confirmed for cash continually, so we can cruise the continent, cavorting and carousing to our content.” He levitates his bowl over to the sink, then starts to walk out of the kitchen. “‘You guess,’” he laughs as he steps out. I hope he doesn’t expect me to clean up after him. Just because a girl still has hands, she’s gotta do all the work? These ponies are taking me for granted. Bones and I look at each other. “Sooo…” “Yeahhh…” we both start. I stop and wait for her to talk. She does the same. We laugh awkwardly. “That was weird,” she finally says. “What? Flim? Or this just now?” “Yes.” I chuckle and we settle into a comfortable silence as finish off our dinners. When we’re done, we start to clean up, Bones needs to push a chair up to the sink to be able to see. “So how was your day?” she asks me as we scrub our plates. “Eh. You know,” I say noncommittally. “You?” “Oh, you know,” she responds, “alright. I’m just hanging around, being Cassandra.” I don’t know, and I’m not gonna ask. I can tell she wants me to. She wants to be able to go all professor and yak my ear off about some book or something. I’m not going to give in. After a few seconds she looks disappointed, but quickly recovers. “So what did you do?” “Nothing special. Thought about making a treehouse. Saw some deer. I kinda wanted to try catching one, but I didn’t.” Bones turns and looks at me keenly. “It wasn’t, um, that again, was it?” I wave her off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I just kinda wanted to try venison. It was all me. But I was worried that if I did go after one, it might happen again, and I’d lose control, so I didn’t.” “Oh, you’re thinking ahead. I’m proud of you,” she says. Weirdly enough, she doesn’t sound snarky at all when she says it. “I’m glad you’re alright,” she smiles and nuzzles the side of her head into my shoulder. Whoa what? I back away from her a little. “What was that?” I can see Bones blush on the inside of her ears. “OH! Um… must be… some pony instinct. Yeah.” Yeah. Weird. We’re done cleaning, so I think I’m going to get away from this awkwardness. Huh, speaking of awkward… “Hey, where’s Sunny? Isn’t he eating?” I ask. “Come on! Aren’t you ready yet!?” Sunny calls from the other room. Bones’ embarrassed look evaporates and leaves only deviousness. She points her hoof towards the living room. “Cartoons.” Uggghhhh. “Oh, would you look at the time!” I exclaim as I point at my blank wrist. “It’s time for my evening flight.” I start for the back door. Bones catches my tail in her magic. “Ah ah ah! You know you shouldn’t fly just after eating. You’ll get a stomach cramp.” Sunny appears in the doorway with the laptop balanced on his back, held steady by his wings. “Come on. I have the episode all queued up.” I narrow my eyes at them. “You two planned this, didn’t you?” Bones just bats her eyelashes and smiles innocently at me. “Why, I have no idea what you mean.” She starts dragging me backwards by the tail toward the living room with Sunny nudging me with his head. “Smile! Smile! Smile!” he cheers. I groan, hang my head, and resign myself to my fate. »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~» Dammit, no matter how many towels I use, how long I use the blow dryer, or how many times I run the brush through, my fur is still wet. And don’t get me started on my feathers. Keeping them clean and dry is almost more trouble than they’re worth. Almost. Flying is fucking rad. Those Judases forced me to sit and watch three episodes of the pony show, none of which had Gilda, err, me in them. There was one with Flim and Flam though. So that was kind of weird to see. I still would have liked to see more me episodes, though. Apparently I’m only in those two I already saw, the one where I’m- you know what, that’s too weird. I’m just gonna refer to the cartoon character like she wasn’t me. Even though she was. “Is”? Whatever. There’s the one near the beginning where she’s a total dick and then the one near the end where she’s gotten better and she makes up with Dash. Oh man, I wonder if the people who made the show knew about how Gilda really felt about Dash. If I remember my, well, memory right; the one I saw in my dream; Gilda was totally crushing on her until they had their falling out. Bet that wouldn’t have made it into a kids’ show. Come to think of it, how DID they know about us? Whatever; don’t think about these things too hard, Gayle. And now I’ve gotten off track. Right, so after being forced to watch cartoons, I took off for my evening flight. I spent a few hours cruising the countryside, letting my mind (and my body) just wander. I’m no philosopher, but there’s something really calming about being alone, looking down at the earth from twenty thousand feet. I gotta admit, I’ve been a lot less stressed lately, even with this whole situation. I think I could get used to it. Well, that, and what I did afterward. After calm-y time is badass o’clock. Tonight, I really pushed myself, taking myself to my limits and beyond. The speed and adrenaline are fucking addicting. I can’t believe I ever got by with just running. I can’t believe I thought I was fast before. We’re talking triple digits here. Like, commercial airliner fast. But I had to stop eventually. I started to get really hot and was panting hard, which made me realize I can’t sweat anymore to cool myself down. I came home and took a long, cold shower and now I feel much better. Except that no matter how fucking hard I try, I can’t get dry. Hair dryers are great, but only if you only have worry about a little hair on your head. A full body fur coat takes forever. A brush is nice, but doesn’t actually absorb moisture. And even these giant, fluffy, white towels can only do so much and are painful if you rub your feathers the wrong way. It’s a pain in the ass, let me tell ya. So it’s like that, still moist in some places, fur clinging to my skin, my crest feathers hanging limp around my face, rubbing a towel across my chest, that I enter Bones’ room to check on her. She’s usually asleep by now and I gotta make sure Flim isn’t taking advantage of her. Hell, I don’t think I’d put it past Sunny either. “Humina…” To my surprise, Bones is still awake, staring at me with her jaw on the floor and the inside of her ears burning red. Oy, I’m not that ugly, am I? “Take a picture, why don’t ya,” I spit in annoyance. Bones shakes her head and turns away. She’s squirming a little bit as she takes some deep breaths and does her calming exercise. Huh. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was getting all hot and bothered over me. But that obviously couldn’t be. Then, I notice she’s got her laptop next to her and a bunch of scraps of paper laid out in front of her. “What all this?” I ask. She looks thankful for the change of subject as she answers, “They’re tarot cards. ...Well sort of. They’re not official or anything. I made them myself.” That surprises me. For someone who was so pro-science and dead-set anti-magic, this definitely seems like something Bones wouldn’t put any stock in. So I have to ask, “Really? I didn’t think that was your thing. You know how to tell fortunes?” “Errr… not as such, no,” she admits and rubs the back of her head. “I’m trying to learn. I looked it up online, drew my own deck, and now I’m giving it a shot. It seemed like something I may as well try, what with precognitive dreams and all.” This again. I roll my eyes, but don’t argue. This has been a sticking point for us the last few days. “Okay, you have fun. I’ll just watch.” Really, I’m just waiting for her to fall asleep so I can use her computer to surf the net. Over the next half hour Bones repeatedly shuffles her tarot deck, draws cards, places them in lines, and consults her computer. It looks completely random, but she seems to be getting some meaning out of it. For example, one time she draws The World, then Temperance, then The Sun, then The Devil, then Death, then Wheel of Fortune, then The Tower, then Temperance again, then The Hanged Man, then Death again, then Judgement, and finally The World again. She narrows her eyes, hmmms a little bit, and nods her head. It’s all Greek to me. She just keeps at it. She draws The Chariot, The High Priestess, The Fool, The Magician, The Moon, and Temperance together. She pokes each of the first four and nods, but gets surprised when she notices The Moon. “Oh? Interesting.” She’ll pull two or three cards, look at them, look at her computer for meaning, and make a little noise. The High Priestess and Wheel of Fortune. “Hmyes.” Strength and The Hanged Man. “Ohno.” The Hermit and The Tower. “Hmm?” The Fool, The Moon, and The Lovers. “Aww,” and a giggle. But there are two combinations that keep coming up again and again and they seem to bother her the most. The Chariot and The High Priestess keep coming up together, sometimes with The Lovers and sometimes with Death. Bones seems equally shocked by both, but Death also seems to scare her. She’s starting to get pretty worked up. This is just silly now. “Okay, Miss Cleo, why don’t you put that away for tonight?” I suggest. Her head shoots up and she looks over at me in surprise. “Oh! You’re still here.” She looks down at the cards and her eyes go wide. She looks back to me, than back to the cards. “Oh. Um…” she snatches the cards up in her magic and mixes them all up. “So….” “Sew buttons, bitch. Come on, put the hokus pokus away and go to bed,” I tell her. “Hokus pokus?” Bones narrows her eyes. “You still don’t believe it’s real?” “Four days ago, neither did you. For someone who’s all about science and shit, it’s weird that you’re suddenly so into this now,” I point out. She opens her mouth to argue, but I hold up my hands in defense. “Hey, I’m just sayin’.” “I never said I was ‘all about science’. I believe what I can see with my own eyes. Now that’s it’s real and in front of me, how can I deny it?” Bones reasons. “Yeah, well, you can see a magician make an elephant disappear with your own eyes. Doesn’t mean it actually happened,” I argue. Bones narrows her eyes. “Are you accusing me of lying to you?” “NO! For fuck’s sake,” I mutter and run my fingers through my hai- feathers. It’s uncomfortable. I guess I won’t be doing that anymore. “I’m saying that just because it looks real doesn’t mean it is and you shouldn’t take it so seriously.” Bones snorts and cross her forelegs. For her, that’s pretty much a giant billboard that says “I’m digging in and being stubborn”. “Well, I DO take it seriously,” she starts. “Deathly serious. My dreams are real. They tell me things when I’m asleep. But it’s passive and I can’t control it. The cards are so I can see actively. It may sound silly, but they don’t lie. Heart of the cards and all that nonsense. It’s all the proof I need to believe it, and you should too,” she accuses and points a hoof at me. This time, I snort. “Okay, fine. I know you do have weird dreams. And I believe that you believe that it means something. But I still don’t buy this fate crap. No one decides what I do but me.” “Yes, you do. What you do in the future is your choice and those choices matter,” she tells me, gesturing with her left hoof. Then she lowers it and switches to the right hoof. “But fate plays its part too. And you do believe in it. Of course you do. How can you not? You just don’t realize it right now.” I don’t really appreciate her telling me what I think, so I’m arguing the point. “I really don’t. You say you believe it because you’ve seen the proof with your own eyes. Well, I haven’t seen it.” “Maybe if you would tell us!” “I- I can’t…” she stammers. “No one can be told. Especially not you.” I shake my head and snort. “So what? You’re gonna pull the ‘lone wolf’ act? That’s stupid.” “That’s rich coming from you.” she spits. Ouch. That’s just spite. “Yeah, well you have fun being by yourself,” I scowl and turn to leave. Just as I’m at the door, Bones calls after me, “Tell me about Ann.” ...What? In the blink of an eye, I spin around and I’m back in the room, looming over Bones. My face is so close to hers I can see the crazed look in my eyes reflected in hers. “How do you know about her?” I demand. “I’ve seen her.” “WHERE?” “In my dreams.” Oh. She. Did. NOT. I dig my talon into her chest, almost enough to break skin. “How dare you. You probably heard me say that name somewhere and you used it to try to make me believe your bullshit? That’s fucking low,” I growl. “No. I mean, yeah,” she backpedals. “I’ve heard you slip and say her name a couple of time. But that’s not it. I saw her in my dreams. She had blond hair with red streaks.” What? That’s right. How- “And you were there, except younger. Human you. You were sitting by the ocean, holding her hand. She whispered something in your ear.” I fall back hard on my rump as the angers flood out of me and tears well up in my eyes. “How?” I croak. “I told you. My dreams show me things,” Bones explains as she sidles up next to me to comfort me. “For now, let’s just call it ‘past, present, future’. Sometimes it’s the future; or at least possible futures. Sometimes it’s something happening somewhere in the present. And sometimes it’s something that happened in the past. Oh, and sometimes it’s just dreams. Not anything real; just very vivid stories.” “What did you see?” I whisper. “I was cuddled up with her- I mean, you were. Sometimes I was watching from the outside, and sometimes the perspective of the dream switched and I was in your place. Have you ever had a dream as someone else? Where you weren’t you?” She asks me and tilts her head. “I… I dunno… Maybe,” I answer. “Well this was like that. Anyway, it’s beside the point.” She continues, “You were cuddled up with her on a dock, watching the sun set over the sea. The two of you just sat there for a while, then you kissed her and she whispered something in your ear-” “We’ll always have this. Right here. No matter what happens, no matter how many times we fly away from here, or how far, we’ll always have this,” we both finish at the same time. I sit there for a minute, just remembering. Bones lets me, not saying anything more. Finally, I whisper, “Why?” “Why what?” “Why are you telling me this? I clarify. “You wanted me to tell you what I saw; what I know,” she answers. “This is what I see.” “Alright, fine. I guess it’s not all bullshit,” I admit. I wipe my hand down my face. It comes away wet. “Jesus, Bones. You had to bring her up. You don’t know what you’re doing to me.” “Well… tell me about her.” I sigh deeply and lay down. Bones settles down next to me. “Ann Bauer. She was the first girl I ever loved. I was fifteen. The summer after my freshman year of high school, my parents decided they were going to buy a beach house out in Montauk and we were going to spend the whole summer there. I wanted to stay home in the city and hang around. I was bored out in the sticks. Then I met her. I went for a run down the beach one evening. Ann was working in a snack stand on the beach. She was just closing up when I went past. I stepped on a shell and fell. She helped me up. When I saw her face, I swear to god, there were actual fireworks going off. She was beautiful. Well you saw her. Blond hair with those red streaks. I thought that was so cool. She had just the most amazing, confident smile and oh, that ass. She was short, but she was scrappy. She could be a badass when she needed to, but she could also be really kind. And funny and smart and fearless. Even though I just met her, she felt like an old friend I’d known her for years. We spent that whole summer together. We were inseparable. I tried to get a job at the snack stand too so we could be together when she had to work. But my parents wouldn’t let me. They said I was there for vacation and that ‘such menial work’ was ‘beneath’ me. So I just hung around the stand all day keeping her company. I never knew I could feel that way about someone. Ann was so perfect and I loved her so much for it that I felt like she was just inside me, taking up all the space until there was nothing left of me; just this wonderful mixture of the best of the two of us. It sounds weird when I say it like that, but that’s the closest I can come to describe it.” “What happened to her?” Bones asks. “The summer ended. We both had to go home. But we agreed that we weren’t over and we would see each other again as soon as we could. That’s what you saw. Me and Ann on our last night. We went home, but we kept in contact every day. Every day we talked. But after, um, it must have been about two and a half months or so since it was maybe two weeks into November, suddenly I couldn’t get ahold of her. The same the next day and the next. After three days of not being able to contact her and worrying, my phone rang in the middle of the night. At first all I could hear was sniffling. I was about to hang up when someone finally said something. It was Ann. She sounded so broken, not like the Ann I knew all summer. All she said was, ‘Meet me in Montauk.’ Then she hung up and didn’t answer when I tried to call her back. What else could I do? I took my dad’s car and rushed out to Montauk.” “You took the the car?” Bones asks in disbelief. “You weren’t even old enough to have a license.” “You think I gave a fuck? Driving’s not so hard. I could do it well enough to get there,” I explain. “Why didn’t you just ask your parents to take you? It was an emergency, after all.” she questions. “You don’t know my parents,” I counter. “And they didn’t know I had a girlfriend. Not yet anyway.” “So what happened?” I continue, “I drove all the way out there without stopping. She didn’t tell me where exactly to meet her, but I knew there was only one place it could be. I went out to our dock and there was Ann, sitting there dangling her legs off the end. She had a black eye and she was crying. She told me she was having trouble at home. Her dad was a drunk and sometimes he’d get angry… Her mom was a teacher and the two of them spent the summer staying with her mom’s sister in Montauk. She never mentioned it all that summer. I guess maybe she was trying to forget about it for a while. They hoped her dad would get better after a little time away, but he only got worse. That night, her dad had hit her and she ran away. I promised I’d never leave her again. It was a stupid thing to promise. I guess I knew I couldn’t keep it, but in that moment, I just want to stay there with her and protect her forever. We stayed in my parents’ beach house, just the two of us, for three days. That’s how long it took for them to find us. The cops came and knocked on the door and we knew it was all over. My parents were furious. Not only did I steal their car and take it for an underage joyride, but that’s how they found out I was gay. They didn’t take it well. I tried to explain to them why I did it, that Ann needed help. But they didn’t care. They were just pissed at me. Ann tried to help. Even after all the shit she’d been through, she still tried to shift all the blame onto herself so I wouldn’t be in as much trouble. God, she was so loyal. I don’t know if my parents bought it, but they told me they’d make sure I’d never ‘be bothered by that girl again’ so I wouldn’t be ‘distracted from my studies.’” “What did they do? Bones asks hesitantly. “You already know,” I respond. “They yanked me out of my school and sent me to the private academy upstate.” Bones nuzzles my side, I guess to comfort me. “I’m sorry. That’s awful that they’d do that and give you no choice in the matter.” “Oh no, you don’t know my parents. They did give me a choice. When I begged them and told them they couldn’t make me go, they agreed; they couldn’t make me to go. It would have to be my choice to go. Obviously, right away I said I wouldn’t. But then they told me my other option. They could either send me to the private academy, or they could press charges for grand theft auto. Wasn’t much of a choice.” Bones rolls onto her side and wraps her forelegs around me in a warm pony hug. It’s kinda weird for her to be this touchy-feely. Must be the pony instincts. I’m normally against this sort of thing, but right now I think I need it. “What happened to Ann?” Bones asks. “I don’t know,” I admit. “My parents made good on their promise. I don’t know how they did it, but no matter how hard I tried, I could never get in contact with her again.” Bones looks shocked. “You haven’t heard from her since they tore you apart? You never found out what happened to her with her father? But-” “You think I didn’t try?” I interrupt. “You think it hasn’t eaten away at me? I failed again. Someone I cared about needed me and I failed them again.” Again? Oh yeah. Cloudsdale. Now that feeling I’ve had all these years makes sense. “I’m sorry,” Bones apologizes. “Thank you for telling me this. I’m honored. Ann sounds like she was pretty amazing, the way you talk about her,” “She really was.” “I’ve never heard you talk about anyone else like that. And I’ve seen you with quite a number of girls,” she observes. Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean? “I didn’t mean anything by it,” she backpedals. Dammit, I said I was going to try to work on not thinking out loud. “It’s just, in the three years I’ve known you, you’ve had probably close to twenty girlfriends-” Jeez. When she puts it like that, it sounds like a lot. “-and I’ve never heard you talk about any of them the way you talk about Ann.” “Yeah, so?” I’ll bite. “Although what?” “I notice you’ve never talked about Ellen that way,” she says sagely. ...Oh shit. I’m awful. I garbage. I’m worse than garbage. I’m the garbage’s garbage. I haven’t even thought about Ellen in days. I say so, “I haven’t even been thinking about her at all. I’m a pretty bad girlfriend, aren’t I?” She nods her head slightly. “I hate to agree, but I think probably yes.” Jeez, don’t sugarcoat it for me or anything, Bones. She cocks her head. “Do you mind if I play therapist for a minute?” She asks. I’m too emotionally exhausted to argue, so I let her. “Okay. Sure.” I can see Bones change into professor mode. Crap, now I’m in for it. She clears her throat and begins. “Ann was your first love. She opened up a whole new world for you. You idolized her. Then you were harshly separated and you never got any closure from that. So now you’ve placed her on a pedestal. Every girl since then has been a subconscious attempt to fill that Ann-sized hole that’s doomed to fail. You can’t help but compare them and they don’t stand a chance.” That’s not true. That’s a load of horseshit. That’s… holy crap. That actually makes a lot of sense. “How do you know that?” I ask at the ceiling. Bones gives a rueful chuckle. “Trust me, right now I know you better than you know yourself. Just let go. None of that matters right now.” “Things matter. Don’t get all emo on me again,” I warn. “I’m not,” she assures me. “Right now, don’t worry about that past. All you have to worry about is the future. How it affects you and how you can affect it.” Is this really the same person from four days ago who told me that nothing in the universe matters? This barely sounds like Steve anymore. It’s hardly even like the Lazy Bones from that morning in the tent. Is this transformation really changing our minds that much? Have I changed and I haven’t noticed it? Wait, I’ve got a more interesting question. I turn my head to face Bones. “So how’d you get to be such an expert on relationships? I’ve never seen you with a girl. Do you turn into some secret hotshot playboy when I’m not looking?” I tease and elbow her in the ribs. I’m expecting her to just roll her eyes and give me some sort of “Ha ha, very funny. I’m so smart,” comeback. Instead, she gets all panicky. “What? No! Uh, I- I mean, yes! I’ve been with plenty of girls! Loads! Hundreds!” “Hundreds?” “Oh. I mean, no! Not hundreds,” Bones stammers and bites her lip. Oh no. No no no. Oh my god, this is too perfect. Is Bones a virgin? This sure got me out of my funk. It takes all of my willpower to keep a straight face and not break into the shiteating grin (Or as whatever you call it with a beak.) of a cat cornering a mouse. It’s time to go in for the kill. “So… how many girls have you been with? Ballpark it for me.” She wiggles away from me. “Uhh… Uhmmm…” I keep my voice innocent and curious,“Fifty? Ten? ...One?” “ZERO!” Bones blurts. “You’ve got me! I’m a virgin! Are you happy now?” I shake my head in fake disappointment. “That’s just sad. Pay for it!” Now it’s her turn to get depressed. “I was too scared.” “Oh come on, Bones. Really?” I try to encourage her, “What about that girl who always came to the bar with us? Mona or whatever?” “It’s Mandy,” she corrects me. “Yeah her. She was totally into you. I could tell. Why didn’t you hook up with her?” I wonder. “She… she wasn’t my type,” Bones mumbles. “What was wrong with? Too short? Too tall? Too brunette? Tits not big enough?” I rattle off. “Shewasagirl,” she whispers too fast to understand. “I’m sorry, what was that?” “Shewasagirl,” she repeats just as inaudibly. “Didn’t quite catch that.” “SHE WAS A GIRL! I’m GAY, alright! I liked guys but I was too scared of coming out to ever act on it! I’ve never been in a relationship! I’m a gay virgin loser who’s never been with anyone and is always going to be alone and now I’m a pony so there goes the rest of my life along with it and now you know so you know what a freak I am!” Bones rants without breathing. Finally she finishes and lays there huffing and puffing, trying to catch her breath and keep herself from crying. “Oh. That’s it?” I ask casually. Bones stares at me in disbelief. “‘That’s it’?” I make a throwaway gesture. “I thought you were going to say you got turned on by horses or something equally weird. Like you were a furry or a eunuch or a mormon.” “You… you don’t think I’m weird?” she asks hopefully. “Hell yeah I think you’re weird!” I say and slap her on the back. She recoils a little. “But not because you were gay. I’m gay! Fuck man, what have we been talking about?” She gives a nervous little chuckle. “You’re really okay with it?” She sighs. “I… think it feels good to finally get this off my chest.” “Shit man, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I laugh. “I work at a gym. I could have set you up with a goddamn smorgasbord of cock.” Bones blushes and looks mortified. “Well at least you’ve got somebody now.” Bones smiles, but then it turns to a frown and a furrowed brow. “Wait, what?” “Personally, I don’t really see it. He’s way too over-the-top “Pepe LePew loverboy”. But whatever makes you happy,” I tell her and chuckle. “Actually, at first I thought you and Sunny were going at it.” “What!?” Bones screams. She rolls on her back and kicks all four legs wildly in the air,. “EWWWWWWWW!” Wow. Stronger reaction than I thought. “What-” “He reminds me of my little brother! “I thought you had a little sister,” I say, trying to change an obviously sore subject. “I have both. Who says I can’t? Why would you think I was fucking Sunny? Wait…” She pauses and rolls back on her side to face me. “You think I’m fucking Flim?” I look away. “Um. Not anymore I guess.” “WHY?” “He’s always getting all ‘mon ami’ and shit around you and then you blush and get all giggly,” I try to explain. “He’s just funny! Is that a crime?” she says in exasperation. “Hey, you just said you liked guys,” I defend. “LikED! Past tense!” Bones shouts. “My, ahem, tastes flipped sides the same time I did.” “Huh?” She rolls her eyes at me. “I like girls now!” She shakes her and a mutters, “God, that’s so weird to say.” “Oh. Then congratulations,” I grin. “We girls are much hotter. Consider it an upgrade.” Bones sighs. “I dunno. It’s been so confusing. Like for example, you remember that pushy wally in the sporting goods store? Normally, I’d have been super attracted to him. He was confident and athletic. And he was actually coming on to me. That would have been a dream come true in the past, but suddenly I didn’t feel anything. And then I’ve been- err, nevermind,” she stops abruptly. Now she’s gotten all flustered again. It’s pretty cute. “Okay, well that’s fine,” I reassure her. “Take your time. You’ll figure it out. But while we’re on the subject, I know you haven’t run into any, um, mares to compare, but do you have a type? I can keep an eye out for a potential girlfriend for ya,” I offer with a smirk and a wink. Somehow she gets more nervous and distracted. She’s squirming, her mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and she looks me up and down. If I were someone less cool, I might even say it was “adorable”. But like I said, I’m too cool for that. “Sorry, didn’t mean to stump ya,” I tease her. “Oh. Right. Um,” she mumbles. “No, I don’t like anyone. Err, I mean, I don’t have a person I like. I mean, a type! A type I like!” This is really getting to her. Maybe I should be nice and let up on her. Nah. One for the road. “Hey, I know, Bones! Let’s call up that Mandy chick and see if she’s up for a little horseplay.” The insides of her ears go red hot again and she rolls over, knocking over the stack of tarot cards and buries her face in her hooves. “Oh my god…” “Buck up there, lady killer. I’m sure she’ll love ya,” I chuckle and pat her on the back. I think she’s had enough. I’ll let her off the hook for now. I stand up and stretch my back. She watches me with a strange look in her eye. Then she looks down at the floor. I follow her gaze. She’s looking at the stack of tarot cards she knocked over. Only one of them fell face up: The Lovers. She looks conflicted about something. “Night, Bones,” I say and start towards the exit. I walk out into the hall and turn around to close the door. She’s still staring at that card, but then looks up and sees me leaving. She glances back down at the card and a wave of resolution washes over her face. “W-wait, Gil.” I just cannot leave this room tonight, can I? I step back inside. “Yeah?” “It’s… umm… I…” she fumbles for words. “Well… I- I kinda do. Have a type, I mean.” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah. It’s, uh…” she stammers, fidgeting. “I kinda… already said it. I like...” she mutters quiet enough that if I didn’t have enhanced senses I wouldn’t have been able to hear it. She blushes and shakes her head. “Oh, forget it!” Hey, she’s the one that called me back, so she’s not getting away that easy. She must be a glutton for punishment. “Uh uh. You wanted to tell me, so you’re gonna tell me. Spit it out.” “She…” Oh ho! There’s someone already? “‘She’? You have a girlfriend already? You seeing some sweet little pony behind our backs?” I needle her. Bone buries her face in her hooves again, her ears glowing red. “Oh jesus.” “Let me guess! Her name is Honey Pie.” “Kill me now.” “You have her stashed somewhere around here?” I walk over to the closet and throw it open. “Nope, not in here.” “Oh for- You idiotic, overgrown turkey!” she blurts as she stomps a hoof. “I don’t have a secret marefriend!” “Ah, but you said ‘she’. Like a specific person,” I point out. “Yes, there is a girl that I like,” she admits. She says the word “girl” like it’s a swear word in a foreign language. “She just doesn’t know it.” Ooo, a secret crush, huh? “Is it someone I know?” I ask. “Uhhh…” Bones mutters and shifts uneasily. She doesn’t meet my eyes, her own shifting back and forth before finally settling on that one tarot card again. She straightens back up. “Yes. Yes, you know this person.” Okay. Hmmm… Who could that be? Who do we both know? “You were pretty clear you didn’t like Sunny or Flim. That pretty much means Flam too,” I try to deduce. Fucking Sherlock Holmes up in here. “And they’re guys anyway and you’re playing for my team now. Not your friend Mandy?” Bones is staring at me with a nervous smile and her hoof on her card. She slowly shakes her head “no”. Hmm, could it be Ellen? That would be awkward. Wait a second. “‘And you’re playing for my team now…’” I repeat. My eyes go wide. Hers do too. Holy shit, no way. I think back to the way she’s been acting around me lately. She’s been all giggly and blushing and rubbing up on me. And she did keep calling me back into her room. I stand there with my beak hanging open. I’ve figured it out and Bones has figured out that I’ve figured it out. She jumps up and blurts, “Oh blimey, would you look at the time! It’s very late and we’re all very tired here so it’s time for bed. Good night!” She dashes over to me and starts pushing me out the door with her head, using her magic for some extra pushing power. “Wait wait wait.” “Nope! No wait! Good night!” she frantically shouts. When I’m in the hall, she nuzzles my side then slams the door in my face. I try the knob, but it’s locked. I knock. “No thank you, we don’t want any housekeeping,” Bones calls through the door. “Bones, we GOTTA talk about this,” I demand. “Sorry, can’t hear you! I’m asleep!” I sigh. “Lazy Bones…” “Gil…” I barely hear her whisper. “I hope you have pleasant dreams. I know I am.” With that I can hear her trot away from the door. I stand there and just stare at the door, trying to process what just happened. What she just said. I lightly touch the spot where she nuzzled my side. Bones and me? I try to picture that. Shit. Now I’m going to need another cold shower. /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Interlude - Profiles in Ponytude 4 - Flim and Flam > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Interview 4 - Flim and Flam *Begin recording* Von: Hi, everybody! *Long pause* Huh. I was expecting a “Hi, Doctor Nick!” Well whatevs, I’m back in business here. I know it’s been a while. Today, I have something special here in the interro- I mean “interview”, um... chamber? Room? Does this count as a room? What even is this place? I’d say it’s more of a “void”. It’s kind of blank and white, but it’s not endlessly open either. There’s this, like, “margin” out there on both sides, and color beyond that. Hmmm… *Interviewer trails off * *Silence* Oh, right! I’m sorry. I got a little sidetracked there. Yes, the interview. Without further ado- *BAMF!* Von: Two ponies at once! *Subjects speak simultaneously* Flam: What the deuce!? Flim: Jumping Jehoshaphat! Von: Now, calm down, guys. I’ve had more than enough panic in here already. Flam: What do you make of this, Flim? Flim: I’m addled, Flam. Alien abduction? Flam: Distinct possibility. Flim: Astounding. Von: Okay, maybe it was a bad idea bringing the two of you in here together. Flam: My word! It can talk! Flim: Wonderful! You know what we say… Both: If it can talk, it can be bought! Von: Whoa whoa whoa. “It”? Obviously I can talk. I’m a human. You remember what a human is, don’t you? You used to be them. Both: Obviously. Flam: What do you think we are? Dullards? Flim: Dipsticks? Von: Definitely a mistake. Let’s just get this interview started. Flim: Interview? Flam: The devil are you going on about? Von: I’m your author. I’m writing a story and you’re characters in it. I’m going to ask you a few questions so the readers can get to know you better. Flam: Methinks we have a loony on our hooves, brother. Flim: The boy is bananas, brother. Bats in the belfry. A few baseballs short of a ballgame. Von: That! Right there. That’s why you’re a pain in my ass, Flim. The alliteration. It’s hard to write. Challenging and fun, yes. But annoying to try to do. *Pause* Flim: Bonkers. Von: ANYWAY. Let’s get started, shall we? First question. What were your human names? Flim: Fred Flanders. Flam: Fran Flanders. The Flanders twins. Flim: At your service. Von: Fucking charmed, I’m sure. And now? Flam: He’s Flim! Flim: He’s Flam! Both: *singing* And we’re the world fam- Von: NO! None of that! Moving on, date of birth? Flim: May the 3rd. Flam: Of 1995, that is. Von: Okay. Do you know your blood type? Flim: Before, my blood was B-. Flam: And mine was A+ Flim: Ha, leave it Fran to one up me and ace every test. Even a blood test! Flam: Why, naturally! Flim: Though now, I suppose we’ve synchronized, so to speak. Flam: And not a pony friendly hospital to be found to test it. Von: Okay, I lost interest. Let’s move on, shall we? What’s your favorite color? Flim: Such keen questions. They cut me to the quick. Blue. Flam: Pink. Next question, if you please. Von: Oh. Okay, sure. Were the two of you aware of this whole pony thing before you started changing? Flam: Oh my, yes. We’d heard tell of people transforming into ponies and just said to ourselves… Flim: “Selves, that just sounds simply splendiforous!” So we pranced down to the Permutation Purveyor. Flam: The local Conversion Bureau, if you will. Flim: The People-to-Pony Parlor. We perused some prototypes- Von: I’m getting the distinct impression you’re being sarcastic with me. Flim: Picked up on that, did ya? Flam: Of course we didn’t know anything about this beforehoof! Hand! Beforehand! You see how deep this goes? Von: I just meant “Had you seen the show?” Both: Oh. *Subjects speak simultaneously* Flim: No. Flam: Yes. Von: You had, Flam? Would you call yourself a brony? Flam: Oh my, no. I would watch it from time to time while I tinkered, yes. It was a fine show, to be sure. And I’ll admit I read a fanfic or two. But I wouldn’t go so far as to label myself a “brony”. And certainly not one of those fanatic yahoos who might waste their time doodling pictures or writing stories of ponies. Ha ha! Flim: Ha! Those loonies! Get a life, losers! Learn to live a little! Von: Heh heh. Yeahhhh…. Anyway… Flam, you mentioned tinkering. Is that a hobby? Building models or something? Flam: Yes and no. And no. Von: Huh? Flim: Not the brightest bulb in the bunch, is he, brother? Flam: That he most assuredly is not. I’ll use small words so your tiny brain- Flim: Your miniscule mind- Flam: -can follow along. Yes, it’s a hobby. No, it’s not JUST a hobby. It’s also my line of work. And no, it’s not building models. Are you still with me? Von: You know I control your fate, right? If I were you, I would tread lightly. Flam: Yes, yes, we’ve seen Breaking Bad as well. Flim: Sensational series. Flam: You’re so menacing. Flim: See how menaced we are? Flam: These are our menaced faces. Von: *Heavy sigh* The things I put up with for art. ANYWAY! Please, just explain your hobby or work or whatever. Flam: I positively adore machines. Putting them together, taking them apart. It started out as a thing to do in my free time after school, but after all, you know what they say, “Do what you love.” So I invent gizmos and gadgets. Flim: And I sell them. We’re a dynamic duo! You might call me an advertising agent, a financial officer, and a spokesman, all in one. Flam’s the foundation, and I’m the frontman of Flanders Features. Von: That’s your company name? Flam: Indeed it is, my boy! We hold seven different patents. Von: Anything good? Flim: Well, you’re a bright boy, I’m sure, so of course you’re already aware of the Kitchen Witch food processor. Flam: It’s our best seller. Von: Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask about the name. Why “Kitchen Witch”? Flim: It’s a clever almost-rhyme. “Kitch” and “Witch”. Flam: *mutters quietly* And “Genie” and “Wizard” were already taken. Von: That’s it? That’s lame. Flam: Tough crowd, eh brother? Flim: Brutal, brother. Von: Anything else? Flim: The idiot insults our ingenuity with ignorance. It’s iresome. Flam: Remember who we’re dealing with, Flim. Flim: Whadda maroon. To answer your question, my querulous quimby- Von: *Talks over subject* Do you have thesaurus hidden somewhere that I don’t know about? How are you doing this? Flim: -the Pockepedi, and the Wonder Washer. Von: Okay, this is going on WAAAY too long. Let’s try to move this clusterfuck along. Flam mentioned his hobby, but what about you, Flim? *Pause* Okay, I don’t like that smile you’re giving me. Flim: Heh heh. That’s the look I give the ladies. And the ladies like it. And I love the ladies. You might call me a little bit of a lothario. Von: Wait, so let me get this straight. Your “hobby”... is fucking women? Flam: Such vulgarity. Flim: I prefer to leave it at “love the ladies”. Von: Stop saying “ladies”! Flim: I really am a romantic at heart. Von: Okay, that’s enough on that. This needs to be done soon. Next question: Favorite food? Flam: I’ve always loved a tasty Eggs Benedict. Yessir, no better way to start the day. Flim: As for me, I do love some pie. Von: What kind? Apple? Cherry? Chicken pot? *Silence* Von: Why are you waggling your eyebrows at me? *Silence* Von: OHHHHHH! EWWWWWW! No no no! Oh my god, oh my god, no! How has this devolved so far? How is this my life? Flim: I believe we’ve broken the boy, brother. Flam: It’s a shameful display, to be sure. Von: I need to bleach that image out of my brain. I hate you. SO. MUCH. Flim: The price of progress. Von: Segue. Speaking of chemically repressing memories, what’s your preferred drink? Flim: I- Von: And I swear to god, if you somehow make this into another cunnilingus joke, I’m dropping your fucking RV over a goddamn cliff in the next chapter. Flim: I’ll take that under advisement. No joke here. Jack. Von: Oh. Well. That’s pretty straightforward. Although, I was kind of expecting you to say hard apple cider. Flim: That, sir, is a salacious stereotype, and I won’t have you sully our sterling surname. Von: Jesus. Sor-ry. Flam? Flim: I do enjoying unwinding after a hard day with a glass of merlot and a bubblebath. Von: I- ah. Huh. That’s an image. Flim: You’re picturing my brother in the bath, aren’t you? Von: The image is in my head now. Flim: Well get it out. Von: It’s not my fault! He put it out there and it just sort of got in there! Flim: As Sunny Daze might say, “That’s what she-” Von: NO! Do NOT go there! Flam: You know, some might consider it poor manners to interrupt all the time. Von: I don’t even care. Moving on, it’s music time. I was going to shorten this part anyway, even if this interview weren’t taking forever. So, if you had to pick one song that best represents you, what would it be? I’ll give you a minute to think. *Silence* Flim: I’ve singled out my song selection, sir. Von: *Sigh* Dare I ask? Flim: “Ramblin’ Man” by the Allman Brothers. Von: Oh. Hey, wow, actually that’s pretty good. Flim: How’s that? Von: Well, it’s just that so far, your friends have all picked things that are way off base. I mean, come on, Gilda, “You’re the Best Around”? Flam: Hilarious. Mine is “Together Forever” from the Pokemon cartoon. *Silence* *Simultaneously* Von: Seriously? Flim: Seriously? Flam: It’s a tad corny, I’ll be the first to admit, but I stand by it. Von: Okay, sure. Why not? So now I’ve got a pick for you. The song that best describes your characters is “A Satisfied Mind” by Johnny Cash. Flam: I don’t believe I’ve had the privilege. I’ve always been more appreciative of J-Pop and chiptunes than country. Brother? Flim: Not a terrible tune. Flam: Should I be insulted? Flim: I wouldn’t take a torch or procure a pitchfork just yet. It is, the Man in Black. Von: Alright, this is winding down, I think. If you could meet any one person, living or dead, who would it be? Flam: How quaint. Flim: We’re back to the hard-hitting humdinger questions, I see. Flam: This is some top journalism here. Flim: A real-life Lois Lane. Von: Hardy har har. Answer the question. Flam: I’d love to meet Nikola Tesla. Von: Huh, I’d have thought it would be Edison. Flam: Edison was a pirate, a prick, and a businessman. No offense. Flam: None taken. Flam: But Tesla was a real inventor’s inventor. Radio? AC current? The Tesla Coil? Plans for a death ray? Be still my heart! Von: Um, should I be concerned? Flim: She gets like this. Von: What about you? Flim: I don’t care. It’s an irksome inquiry. Next one. Von: Everyone else answered it just fine. Flim: And were their answers just as awful as the question? Von: Sunny wanted to meet Billy Mays. Flim: That HACK!? Von: Wow, touchy subject. If you could have any superpower, what would it be? Flim: Are we in a job interview? Flam: Is this a psychological evaluation? Who asks these tedious popcorn questions? Flim: Pabulum. Pure and simple. Von: *Sigh* Just answer. A superpower. Flim: Why would we need one? Flam: We have magic, you lummox. Flim: Loser. Flam: Lout. Von: *mutters* Why did I bring them in here together? *speaking normally, voice is strained* It’s okay. That’s fiiiine. It’s almost over. Recount for me a favorite childhood memory. *Pause* Both: The Noodle Incident! Von: Um, care to elaborate? Flim: No, sir. Flam: We plead the fifth. Flim: You can’t prove it was us. Von: Allllright then. Last question. *whispers* Thank god. *speaks normally* Tell me about your first kiss. ...Wait- Flim: Oh ho hoo! It was- Von: Oh god, NO! What have I done!? Bail! *BAMF!* *Silence* Flim: Well wonder of wonders. Would you look at that. Flam: He positively disappeared into thin air. Just vanished. Flim: Vamoosed. *Silence* Flim: Where are we, do you reckon? Flam: Couldn’t tell you, Flim. It’s delightfully quiet, though. I could get a lot of work done uninterrupted in a room like this. Flim: I’m doubtful. I don’t think I’d describe it as a “room”. Flam: A “chamber” then? Flim: I was thinking it’s more of a “void”. Flam: Perha- *BAMF!* *BAMF!* Von: Okay, good. I’m back and they’re gone. *Sound of sitting heavily into chair* Oy vey. I swear to god, these fucking ponies are going to give me an ulcer. And somehow, believe it or not, that was actually the one that’s gone the best so far. *Pause* Well, luckily for me, that’s the last interview for a while. We’ll get back to this later, when we meet some more ponies. But for now, there aren’t going to be any new ponyfolk in the immediate future, so in place of author/character interviews, the interludes will consist of what you might call “found footage”. Equestrian newspaper articles, excerpts from history texts, that sort of thing. It lets me capitalize on the vast amounts of worldbuilding and character backstories I’ve come up with. So yeah. Until next time, folks. *Recording ends* Name:  Former:             Fred Flanders / Fran Flanders             Current:           Flim Flimflam / Flam Flimflam Coat Color:                    buttercream Mane Color:                   candy cane-like (bright red and white stripes) Eye Color:                      kelly green Cutie Mark:                   apple slice (Flim) / apple with missing slice (Flam) Blood Type:                     A+ Birthday:                        May 3, 1995 (Flim born twenty minutes earlier) Occupation:                    currently unemployed and living on profits from sales of inventions, namely food processor, “Kitchen Witch” Brony:                            no (Flim) / no (Flam) Favorite Food:                Eggs Benedict (Flam) / WE SHALL NEVER SPEAK OF THIS AGAIN (Flim) Favorite Drink:              Jack Daniels (Flim) / Merlot (Flam) Favorite Color:               Blue (Flim) / Pink (Flam) Songs:  Subject’s picks:  Flim: Ramblin’ Man (Allman Brothers Band)                                       Flam: Together Forever (Pikachu's Jukebox)          Author’s pick:   A Satisfied Mind (Johnny Cash) Meet One Person:          No answer (Flim) / Nikola Tesla (Flam) Super Power:                  No answer Hobby:                           "The Ladies" (Flim) / Tinkering, inventing (Flam) Childhood Memory:       “The Noodle Incident” First Kiss:                       I don’t know AND I DON’T WANT TO KNOW > Ch. 10: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 2 – The Road to Nowhere Chapter 10 – I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (In Which Everyone’s Family Is Just… Just Really Great) ‑=VERMONT: THE FIFTH DAY=‑ Awkward. That’s the only thing I have to say right now about last night. I kinda want to talk to Bones about it, but I kinda don’t. Not that I have a choice. She’s been avoiding me all day. She locked herself in her room last night and won’t come out. Or maybe just not when I’m around. Beats the shit out of me. I can’t figure her out. She won’t even answer the door when I knock. Guess she just needs space? Flim and Flam were kinda weird this morning too. When I passed them, they gave me this weird smile and just stared at me like they were expecting something. I don’t know what the fuck that was about. Then I went out and exercised for a while. I tried all sorts of new stuff. I mean, I sort of had to. Pushups don’t really make any sense when you walk on all fours all the time anyway. Now wingups… Those are for winners. I made them up. They’re like a pushups, except for your wings. Pretty clever, huh? Say what you want about this whole situation, but with all this extra time on my talons, err, hands, I’m getting a hell of a workout lately. But you can only take up so much time exercising, so then I went and actually helped Sunny Daze in his little garden. Weirdly enough, stuff’s actually starting to sprout, even though we’ve only been here five days. Guess he really is good with plants. I thought that was supposed to only be earth ponies, and not pegasuses, but what the hell do I know? When I offered to help him, I swear, I thought his jaw was going to fall off. Then he shook it off and asked, “How’d it go?” What’s “it”? I don’t know what the fuck that was about either. So we worked in the dirt for a while until he decided we were done. Now I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I have WAAAY too much time on my hands these days and not enough to fill it. Maybe I’ll go work on my tree house in the woods. I dunno. I better figure something out or I’m gonna go nuts. »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~» ‑=THE SIXTH DAY=‑ She’s still avoiding me today. What the hell? I haven’t even seen her out of her room. I just hope she’s at least coming out for food when I’m not around. I know I used to tease Steve about needing to go on a diet, but this isn’t what I was talking about. After my morning workout, I went to see if Flim and Flam had anything they needed help with. I’m that bored. They didn’t, but we got to talking. They’re really not such bad guys once you learn to ignore the asshole carny exterior, especially Flam. I think Flim was pretty much always kinda like this a little. I mean, he did willingly hock shitty appliances on TV. But Flam’s a little bit more like Steve was: a dweeb. I mean, that doesn’t mean we have anything in common, but at least that’s something I have experience dealing with. We do have some common ground, I guess. He reminded me that he used to be female and we got to talking about how it’s super shitty how people expect you to be a certain way just because you’re chick. Flim took that as his cue to leave. Man, It’s gotta suck for Flam. This transformation thing’s hard enough without growing a cock. Huh, maybe I should have been nicer to Bones about that. Except, you know, she went the opposite way. Whatever. So yeah, anyway, turns out the reason Flam stays pretty much by himself in the RV, is he’s still pretty embarrassed about it. He really hates the mustache. I asked why he doesn’t shave it off and he looked at me like I was crazy. He said it, “just wouldn’t feel right”. We chatted for a while until we realized we were both really hungry. That’s now. So now it’s off to the kitchen to get some grub. Not literal grubs. I’ve actually found myself looking at bugs out in the woods and thinking they look kind of tasty before I catch myself. Maybe griffons like bugs? I don’t care, I am NOT doing it. I’ll stick to meat, thank you. Mmm. Now I’m thinking about porkchop sandwiches. Maybe that’s what I’ll have for lunch. Just as we’re at the house, I hear the sound of car coming up the driveway and I stop. Flam notices my reaction and asks, “Why, what ever is the matter?” “Just get inside,” I order him. He does. I need to see who’s coming up the drive. I jog over to the corner of the house and peek around. There’s a silver BMW coming driving up. Oh, it’s just Liz. She’s early today. When she parks and gets out, I tell her so. “Hey, Liz. You’re here early. What’s up?” At the sound of my voice, she tenses up before forcing herself to relax. “Hello, Gilda,” she greets me as we enter the house. Her smile is obviously forced. Flam is just inside the door, waiting for me. He greets Liz too. “Yes, hello, Fern,” she bare acknowledges him before turning back to me. “A client cancelled on me, so I had an opening between appointments. I thought I’d get this out of the way early.” “No deliveries today, my dear?” Flam asks. “I’m a realtor, not a courier,” is her blunt reply. “Where’s my brother?” “Ahhh, dunno. We haven’t seen in all morning, but I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” I admit. Liz just sighs. “That boy’s got a regular green thumb, he does. Or hoof, as the case may be. There are two places he’ll be if he’s anywhere. If he’s not in the living room, he’ll be in his little garden. If I were a betting woman; and I am a betting woman; I’d wager that’s where you’ll find him,” offers Flam. Liz pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a sharp breath. Suddenly, she shouts, “DAAVEEY!” We hear the sound of something falling over in the other room, followed by the clip-clopping of hooves and Sunny’s face popping into the doorway. “Oh, hey sis!” he chirps. Flam and I share an embarrassed look. “Or that surely works as well.” “Come on, Beth! I wanna show you something!” Sunny announces. She sighs and walks over to him. He wraps a wing around her to prod her along fast and she stiffens. Then they’re out of the doorway and out of sight, leaving me and Flam alone. “Is it just me, or does Liz not like us?” I wonder. “I am beginning to get the impression that no, she doesn’t care for us so well,” Flam agrees. We go about making our lunches. As we do, I can hear snippets of whispered arguing from the other room. “...have time… this nonse... no… babysit… weird friends… my job… illeg… David…” “I guess we’re not the only ones she isn’t crazy about right now,” I tell Flam. »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~» ‑=THE SEVENTH DAY=‑ Fuck, man. What the hell? She’s still avoiding me. Did I do something wrong here? I mean, she’s the one who came out and said it. I didn’t do anything. I’m starting to get offended and kinda pissed about it. Women. I tell ya, I’ve got ninety nine problems and bitches are about half of ‘em. I tried spying on her to get a read, but that didn’t help any. Listening under the door just got me some more of her dream gibberish. Sounded like more stupid poetry, “Head the ship for England. Shake out every sail. Blithe leap the billows, merry sings the gale. Captain, work the reckoning. How many knots a day? Round the world and home again, that's the sailor's way.” So if that’s supposed to tell the future, that means we’re going to go sailing to England, I guess? Probably to see her family. Ha, like I believe that. I figured she was awake and just messing with me, so I flew up and peeked in the window, but she was definitely conked out. This sort of thing isn’t creepy, is it? Peeking in your roommate/friend/maybe love interest’s second story window? Nah. And the rest of these clowns are acting weird now too. Am I the only normal one here? Whenever I’m around, it’s like they’re expecting me to do something. Do they know about my and Bones’s situation? Nah, how could they? Not much happened today. I finally got around to calling my boss and telling him I had to resign. He wanted a reason and details and stuff, but obviously I couldn’t give ‘em. Like he’d believe it anyway. So that sucked. Let’s see, what else? Did my exercises. Offered to help Sunny in his garden. But like I said, he was weird. When I first came up to him, he asked, “Sooo… how’s LB?” I told him I didn’t know and offered to help him. He got all goofy and said something else needed my help. When I asked him what it was, he grinned at me and said, “Oh come on, you knooow…” before running off. So I went to see Flim and Flam. They told me almost the same thing and then almost immediately they started talking in French so I couldn’t understand them. I think it was something about bugs driving limos, because they kept saying “el bee” and “my petite chauffeur”. Since everyone around here is literally insane, I went out into the woods to be by myself and worked on my tree house. I finished it, but now it can’t really be called a tree “house”. Now it’s more of a tree “box”. It’s just kind of an open topped wooden box up in a tree that’s just big enough for me to curl up in. Maybe I’ll bring Claude out there or, like, build a nest or something. When in Rome, right? But yeah, I’m really not good at this “building” thing. But in my defense, it was a weird place to work and I had shitty materials. Since I was out building my box so long, I missed dinner and went straight into my evening flight. But now I’m done with that, I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m ready to relax. I make my way back to my tree box to retrieve the tools I borrowed from Flim and Flam. I grab them and bring them back to the Eagle 5. Oh yeah, that’s what Flam calls the RV: “Eagle 5”. Don’t ask me why. I thought he was making fun of me at first, but whatever. Anyway, when I return the tools to Flim, he takes them and warns me, “Your cell has been sounding steadily since sunset. Careful, kid, I caught on that it’s a considerably cutting caller.” Okaaay… That doesn’t sound like trouble at all. What the hell’s that about? I guess it’s best to just see. I go inside and find Sunny and Flam sitting at the card table in the kitchen, using it for its namesake: actually playing cards. “I’ll raise you five grapes,” Flam challenges and levitates the fruit to the middle of the table from out of a bowl on his right. His bowl is looking a lot fuller than Sunny’s. “You’re bluffing,” Sunny counters. But when they see me walk in, they stop and both just stare at me with a look that says “dead man walking”. “Uh, Flim said something about my phone?” I ask. “It’s in the living room,” Sunny tells me grimly. “We’ll allow you some privacy,” Flim adds. As I’m leaving the room, I hear him mutter, “My word, I don’t envy her one bit, no sir.” In the living room, I find my phone charging in a corner. The screen reads, “19 Missed Calls.” They’re from- Oh shit. The three letters I least want to see burn on the screen: “MOM”. FUCK. Why is she calling now? 19 calls in the last couple hours? Actually, yeah that sounds like her. There’s no way she’s gonna give up, so there’s no way I’m gonna get out of talking to her. I mean, yeah, I could just leave my phone off, but then she’ll probably put out a missing persons report. How can I even begin to explain this? I need time. I just need some time to think this over and figure th- “♪Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’. Into the future,” my phone starts to ring. Are you fucking kidding me? It’s like someone planned this. Well, I guess there’s only only thing to do now. I take a deep breath and thumb the Answer button. Mom starts in before I can even get in a word. “Well, it’s about time! Where have you been? Why don’t you answer your phone? Are you screening my calls?” “Hi, mom.” “Who is this?” she demands. Uh, what? “Wha? Mom, it’s me,” I answer in confusion. “Me who?” she asks. What the hell’s going on here? “Jesus, Mom, who else would it be?” “Abigayle?” “No, Ma, it’s your other daughter,” I say sarcastically. I hate it when she calls me that. Or worse, Abby. “You don’t sound like her,” Mom accuses. OHHH! Right. “I’ve got, uh, strep. ‘S why I sound weird,” I pull out of thin air. Oh yeah, I’m good. Thinking on my feet. “Oh, you do?” Mom asks. She doesn’t sound like she buys it. “Is this this ‘mysterious illness’ I’ve heard you have? The one that caused a ‘family emergency’? The emergency that no one in the family has heard of?” Uh oh. I think I’m busted. I start to explain, “Oh. Yeah, that was just an excuse I had to come up with real quick to-” “An excuse you could use to just quit your job and miss paying rent? To just run away and disappear?” Mom interrupts. Wait. How did she know about that? About what I said to my boss, or about quitting, or anything? And then she just decided to call me the same day I quit? Nineteen times? No fucking way is that a coincidence. “Mom, are checking up on me?” I accuse. “Of course!” she answers, as if it should be obvious. “You’re talking to my boss? And my landlord?” I ask in disbelief. “Of course, dear. I call them every two weeks to make sure you’re behaving,” she explains. She says it the same way you would talk down to a kid to tell them to be good so Santa will bring them presents. “You have responsibilities, Abigayle. I have to make sure you’re meeting them, and not running away from them again.” What the fuck? What gives her the right? What makes her think she can do that? To treat me like that? She’s been like this my whole life. Am I still ten years old? No, I’m an adult now. Why does she think she can still control me? And most important, why am I just thinking these things and not actually saying them? Oh right. Because as awesome and badass as I am, there’s always been one person who always always ALWAYS makes me shrivel up and turn into a little cringing coward. And she’s on the phone. There are so many ways I want to tell her off, and I’ve never been able to so much as talk back to her. “Abby? Are you still there?” “Yeah, Ma, I’m here,” I reply weakly. What a pussy. “Do you care to explain what it is you think you’re doing? Where you are? What this little stunt is about?” Mom demands. “What do you have to say for yourself?” What do I have to say for myself? How about, “I’m not a little kid, Mom!” Or, “Can’t you trust me to live my own life?” Or, “Fuck off, you raggedy, old bitch, and leave me alone! I got huge fucking problems and I don’t need you bitching your bitchiness at me, bitch!” Come on, Gayle, ANYTHING. Here I go. “It’s complicated, Mom.” ...That’s it? That’s the best I’ve got? All of my swagger and I can’t even defend myself on the phone with this woman. “Oh, it’s complicated,” she repeats with fake sympathy. “You’re not a teenager anymore, Abigayle. It’s time to grow up and stop playing these silly games. Now, I want you to come home. Now that you don’t have that job,” she says the word “job” with such mocking scorn that I can almost hear the air quotes, “anymore, you’re free to come take a position at my firm. Like you should have years ago. I’ll fire an intern tomorrow and we’ll get you right in there.” How is taking a handout job from my mommy “growing up”? I worked hard to get where I am at the gym. I’ve built up a reputation as one of the best trainers in the city. I’ve got a loyal client base with a waiting list a mile long. And I did it all myself. How is that not being responsible? Dammit, Gayle, say that to HER! “Excuse me?” Mom asks with the same level of disbelief as someone who’s just watched a pig fly by their window. “Are you talking back to me, young lady?” Am I? Did I actually just say it? What did I say? Oh man, this bad habit of thinking out loud actually worked out for once. But can I do it on purpose? “Yes.” Okay, it’s a start. “‘Yes’, you’re talking back to me?” she asks, completely baffled. “Yes. Yes, I am.” I can do this. I just need to actually say all the things I’ve been thinking. That’s not so hard, right? “I’m warning you, Abby-” “I hate when you call me that.” Not the most important point, but we’re getting there. “What has gotten into you?” she asks, anger starting to come through in her voice. “Is this about a girl again? Did you run off with another-” “Another what, Mom!?” I interrupt. “What were you gonna say about the girl I loved? Huh? The girl you made sure I never saw again!” “I thought we were going to forget about that and try to move on?” she chastises. “Forget about it!?” I ask in disbelief. “Seriously? You really have no idea how bad you screwed me up with that?” “Are you trying to blame us for your… preferences? Or is it you’re trying to punish us?” “I… I…” For once in my life, I’m actually at a loss for words. How can this woman be so clueless?  “Holy shit, Mom. Are you for real? It’s not a choice or- or- or… a mental disorder! It’s just the way it is. The way it always was! I’m sorry to break it to you, Ma, but your daughter is a big, fucking dyke!” “Oh, don’t say that about yourself,” she responds with as close to sympathy as she can manage. She says it the same way you’d say it to cheer up someone who’s just insulted themself. Like, “I’m such a stupid, worthless idiot.” “Oh, that’s not true. Don’t say that about yourself.” God, that pisses me off. I’m not giving in on this. “It’s not a debate, Mom. You raised a big dyke.” “This is just a phase; you’ll see. You’re just confused a-” “Dyke.” “The language, Abigayle! It is completely unnecessary. We can discuss your… situation without having to resort to such language,” she scolds. “GODDAMMIT, MOM, fuck my fucking language!” I scream into the phone. “My ‘situation’? My love life is not part of my situation right now. It’s not even on the radar. My situation right now is so fucked up there’s no way I could even start to explain it to you! And if I did, you’d never believe me!” “Try me,” Mom challenges. “Okay, how about magic and talking horses and the fate of the world?” I tell her. It is the truth. “You couldn’t come up with a better lie than that? That’s pitiful,” Mom says with disgust. “I’m still convinced this is-” “THERE’S NO FUCKING GIRL!” I scream, “I mean, yeah, there is a girl involved and I like her, but that’s not what this is about! And even if it were, it wouldn’t be any of your business!” I yell. “I AM an adult and you have NO RIGHT to come into my life and tell me how to live it!” “How dare you-” “How dare I?” I interrupt again. I’m on a roll and I’m not letting up on her. I don’t know what it is that I’ve suddenly got the balls to stand up to my mom, but I’ll take it. It must be my transformation and now knowing that I was someone else before; a true ultimate-tier badass. That thought sparks another thought inkling in the back of my mind. I can tell it’s important, but I can’t quite make the connection yet. Meanwhile, Mom is still talking. “Yes, how dare you!” she cries indignantly. “After everything your father and I have given you; all we’ve done for you! You have the nerve to be not only ungrateful-” “Grateful!?” I can’t believe my ears. “For what!?” “For giving you everything you ever wanted!” she answers. Yeah, everything. Except trust, respect, confidence, love, etc. “Do you have any idea how much we spent on your schooling alone? To ensure you got good grades! To get you into the best schools!” “Get me into the best schools!? YOU SENT ME AWAY TO PUNISH ME! You know what they call that? Banishment!” “As I recall, it was your decision to-” “Only because you were going to have me arrested and sent to juvie!” I remind her. “Abigayle-” “That’s not my name. Don’t call me that,” I order, my quiet tone not hiding my simmering anger. There’s something about that. That stray thought is almost in my reach. “That is your name, Abigayle,” Mom repeats it. “I would know. I named you. Whether you like it or not, I am your mother and-” I don’t hear what she says after that. Holy shit. It clicked. I made the connection and realized what that loose thought I was thinking was. My suddenly having the courage to stand up to her. My transformation. My past life. My name really ISN’T Abigayle. It’s Gilda. ...And she’s not really my mother. I don’t even know what she’s saying, but I cut whatever is off. “No, you’re not.” “Excuse me?” Mom asks. No. Not Mom. “I’m not what?” “You said ‘Whether I like it or not, you’re my mother’,” I remind her. “You’re not.” “Not what?” “My mother.” “EXCUSE ME!?” “You’re not my mother!” I repeat. “You’re not my mother!” I shout it almost giddily. “What!? Have you lost your damn mind!?” Not-mom demands. “You disrespectful, little whelp!” “My mother is a griffon! You’re not a griffon!” I say. “What are you talking about? My name is Griffin, just like yours,” she reminds me, sounding extremely confused. “No! A griffon griffon!” I correct her. “She’s probably a great warrior or something! Not some bitchy paper pusher. She’d be proud of me! I can’t wait to meet her!” I proclaim. “Abigayle…” Not-mom starts, sounding equal parts confused, angry, and hurt. “Gilda,” I correct her. “What’s that?” “My name is Gilda.” “I’ve heard enough of this!” she announces. “You’re obviously very ill and need help. Your name is Ab-” “My name is Gilda. And you have no place in Gilda’s life,” I growl, and with that I end the call. And I turn off the phone for good measure. I did it. I finally stood up my mo- that woman. I’ve been trying my whole life, or at least as long as I can remember the last twenty five years, and I finally did it. I got it all off my chest, stood up for myself, and won an argument. So why do I feel so shitty? I slump over onto the floor and sigh. I always dreamed of telling her off and I finally nutted up enough to do it. And on top of it, I got to tell her she’s not my real mother and then drop the mic by hanging up on her. I should feel great about it. Why do I feel the opposite? It could be the things she said to me. The awful shit she says about me and how completely ignorant she is about the stuff that really makes me tick. Calling what I do “silly games” and my orientation “just a phase”. Fuck her. But more than what she said, it feels like what I said is the problem. Why? I was completely justified. And fuck, she’s not even my mother anyway, so why should I care about her? I’m still clutching my phone, the stupid fucking thing. This is all your fault! I slam it on the ground a few times. If you hadn’t rung, this wouldn’t have happened. I’m in the right here! I throw the thing across the room as hard as I can. I can hear it slam into the wall and shatter, but I don’t even turn to look. I just roll onto my side and drape my front leg over my face, trying to fight back tears of anger and disappointment and frustration and depression and betrayal and regret. I feel all of those things and at the same time I feel hollow and empty, like the bad feelings are eating their way through me and leaving a big gaping hole behind. I don’t think you can get any lower than this. Then I feel something soft and warm pushing into my back. It’s her. I can just tell. My heart leaps into my throat. “Hey,” whispers Lazy Bones. I don’t turn to look at her. I don’t want her to see my face. “Hey,” I whisper back. I don’t trust myself to talk any louder and still sound calm. “Whatcha doing?” she asks. It’s subtle, but she sounds a little different. I almost didn’t notice, but she’s got a little bit of an accent creeping into her voice. It’s not like her British accent; it’s something else. It’s barely there, but it’s there. “Nothin’. Just laying here,” I answer. She’s quiet for a few seconds before responding. “Gil, you don’t have to pretend. I heard.” Shit. “You did?” “You weren’t precisely quiet. I think everyone heard the whole thing,” she informs me. Double shit. I try to laugh it off. “Yeah, it was a pretty good fight. We’re always like that.” “Gil, I’ve heard you talk with your mother before. It’s never been like that,” she calls my bluff. “You don’t have to pretend.” “Okay, fine. You got me!” I admit. “But I’m right. She’s wrong! I didn’t do anything wrong.” Bones doesn’t say anything. Is she judging me? “And hell, it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t ever have to talk to her again.” She still doesn’t say anything. Who is she to judge me? “It’s not like we’re related or anything. She may as well be a perfect stranger. I do-” “You don’t really believe that, do you?” “What?” “Gilda, you’re not really going to try to pretend you believe that, are you?” Bones asks, exasperation in her voice. “I do believe it,” I argue. “You said I’m really Gilda from Erquerstia.” “Equestria,” she corrects. “Whatever. So my real mother was a griffon in that world who I don’t remember. Emily Griffin is just some random woman who makes me feel bad about myself,” I explain. Bones sighs. “Oh, Gilda. If that were true, why do you feel so bad?” “What are you talking about? I’m fine. I’m great,” I croak. “You don’t listen very well. I said you don’t have to pretend. I know you’re not okay,” she says soothingly. “Look, Gayle and Gilda are two parts of the same whole. Just because Gilda came first, doesn’t make Gayle any less real. Emily gave birth to Gayle just like any other mother. That was real. Her parenting method may be questionable, but that’s real too. That history shouldn’t be swept under the rug and ignored.” “Aren’t you the one who said ‘Don’t worry about that past. Just worry about the future’?” I remind her. “‘What’s past is prologue’,” Bones says cryptically. “What does that even mean?” I wonder. “It means that the past informs the future. Even though the future is what matters and it’s the thing to be concerned with, it’s shaped by the things that came before it. You shouldn’t worry about the past, but you also shouldn’t forget it. After all, ‘Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it’,” she explains. “What does that mean to me?” “It means,” she says seriously, “that you need to remember the things you’ve seen, the things you know, before you act. You have to remember. The future is too important for you to be impulsive and start throwing out the past.” “Huh?” Bones sighs. “Fine. We’ll do it this way.” She presses closer into my back, right between my wings and that tension that was just here a second ago melts away. Mostly. She nuzzles her face into my fur. She says into the back of my neck, “It means that that woman has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember and as terrible as some of the things she’s done are, you still care about her.” “Why should I?” I demand. “She doesn’t care about me. At least, not as a person. Just as a… a… a thing she can change and do whatever she wants with.” “Because you’re good. After everything, you still care,” she whispers. I squirm a little. “Dude… come on. Gay.” “Uhhh…” “You know what I mean,” I dismiss and shake my head. “If it makes you feel better, look at it this way. You win. You beat her. You’re better than her,” Bones says and wraps her front legs around my neck. I can feel her breath in my feathers. “This sucks,” I whine. “It’s just… It seems like every time we talk now, it ends up with some big girly emotional breakdown. And what’s with you? You disappeared for days and now suddenly you come back and you’re getting all super sensitive and touchy-feely and snuggly?” “I’m sorry,” she apologizes and starts to move away from me. “I didn’t say stop.” “Sorry,” she apologizes again and goes back to hugging me. It makes me feel good, but then why am I still trying to hold back tears? I sniffle. “Gil, come on,” she breathes, “I told you, you don’t have to pretend.” “I’m not.” “Gilda, it’s okay to just be who you’re going to be,” Bones reassures me. “I’m not a crybaby,” I argue, then sniffle, ruining the effect. “Maybe not Gayle. But maybe Gilda was?” she wonders, “I never met her, but she was a griffon. She had that hot-blooded griffon passion. Maybe she had higher highs and lower lows. Either way, you’re not Gilda and you’re not Gayle. You’re someone else. Be whoever that is.” “When did you become such a bullshit self-help guru?” I question. I feel her shrug. “I just know what to say. Just something I picked up. That’s why I locked myself away. The first few days after the transformation finished, I tried living like I was Steve. But I’m not. I needed to come to terms with it. I needed to figure out who I am. Figure out if it was okay for me to do, well… this sort of thing,” she says, squeezing me and exhaling into my feathers. “How’d it go?” I ask. “You tell me.” It’s actually working. I feel better. Some, anyway. I still feel this empty ache, but at least I don’t feel like crying anymore. “It’s alright,” I shrug. “And for the record, I wasn’t crying.” “Of course not.” I can almost hear her eyes rolling. “You’ve gotta let it out sometime, though.” “I’m Gilda. I don’t cry. Definitely not going to cry anymore,” I vow. “Not as long as I’m around, eh?” she mumbles. “No one said you had to cry. You can let it out other ways.” “Yeah, how?” “Why don’t you sing about it?” she offers. “That’s stupid. You’re stupid,” I grumble. “You know I can’t sing. You dragged me to karaoke with your friends that one time and you remember how bad I was.” “Gayle couldn’t sing. But something tells me YOU can,” she encourages. “No way.” “Come on, do it.” “Fuck no.” “Do iiiiiit,” she whines. Well who could resist that? I let out a sigh of defeat. I know when I’m beat and I have to give in to my girlfriend. I roll out of her hooves, then get to my feet and turn to face her. Wait, did I just think of her as…? Bones sits up and I see her face and her ears are bright red. She’s blushing so bad I can actually see it on her cheeks through her fur. Guess she’s not so smooth after all when she’s face to face. She looks away, not meeting my gaze, rubbing the back of her head. I hope I didn’t say that out loud. “So, yeah. You want me to sing for you,” I grimace. She just nods quickly, still looking away. “What should I sing?” She shrugs. Oy, this is going nowhere. I roll my eyes, then turn around. “Does this help?” “Yes, thank you.” I can hear the relief in her voice. “It’s just, you’re so… And when you look at me…” she trails off. I hear a sound like hair whipping, like she’s shaking her head back and forth. “Um, right. You’re supposed to be venting, so sing about your mother. Just sing whatever comes to you.” Okaaaay. Here comes one mean, nasty song in a horrible voice coming right up. I take a deep breath, let my mind go blank and just go. “La la la la laaaaa! La la la la laaaaa!” To my surprise, it doesn’t sound bad. It’s actually pretty good. It’s just a bunch of La’s, but it’s to a slow, sweet little melody and my singing voice is surprisingly great. I keep at it, finishing up a verse of La La La’s. The rest comes just comes to me, like I’ve always known it. Take a melody, Simple as can be Give it some words and Sweet harmony Raise your voices, All day long now, Love grows strong now Sing a melody of love Oh, love Love is the power Love is the glory Love is the beauty And the joy of spring Love is the magic Love is the story Love is the melody We all can sing I repeat each verse a few times before moving onto the next until I’m tired and feel like the song is done, where I trail off. Huhnhh… Where the ballsack did that come from? I’ve never heard that song before, but I feel like I’ve known it my whole life. Plus, you know, it’s so sappy it makes me want to puke. I do feel a lot better though. Well, time to face the music, I guess. Ha ha, I’m hilarious. “So? How was that?” I ask as I turn around. Bones looks awestruck. But more than that, there’s three more faces watching me from the kitchen door. Flim is subtly smiling to himself, Flam is wiping away a tear, and Sunny is grinning like a fool. Then he starts stamping his hooves in applause. “Woooo! Encore! Encore!” The fuckers! Who invited them? “Fuck off!” I shout at them, then grab Bones by the foreleg and drag her upstairs to her room, locking the door behind us. “Wow,” she says breathlessly. “Where the heck did that come from?” “Fuck if I know.” “When I said ‘sing about your mother’, I was expecting ‘She’s A Bitch’ or something of that nature,” Bones smirks. “You really took that ‘be someone new” talk seriously, huh?” “I don’t know,” I admit. “I was expecting the same thing. Then I just thought, ‘mother’, and that’s what came out.” “You made that up?” “No, I don’t think so. When I was singing it, I had this feeling like it was the first song I ever learned from my mother when she was teaching me to sing,” I tell her. Bones looks extremely confused. “What? Your mother- that mother taught you to sing?” “No.” “Then what-” “It’s in the past. Don’t worry about it, right?” I suggest, turning her own advice on her. “But-” “Just do what I do. Say, ‘whatever’ and try not to think about it,” I offer. Bones stares at me in disbelief for finally breaking down giggling. “You’re really something, you know that? I laugh too. “Yeah, I try.” “Most people, in light of life altering transformations and discovering their entire world is wrong, wouldn’t go from mental breakdown to ‘whatever’ quite so fast,” she notes, shaking her head. “Hey, I’m the fastest. Speed’s my thing,” I brag. “Don’t let a certain blue pegasus hear you say that,” she warns jokingly. “If she wants to challenge it, I’m right here,” I gloat, holding my hands out. Bones breaks out in a fit of giggles. “What?” She answers, “I was just picturing you pounding your chest and shouting at Dash, ‘Come at me, Rainbro!’” I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Okay, so what about you?” Her smile evaporates. “Wha- what about me?” “Three days locked in your lair and suddenly you’re little miss huggy bear, all rubbing up me,” I clarify. She blushes and sputters a bit, then seems to regain control. “It’s the mental changes. Bits of the old pony reasserting herself. You get extreme moodswings, I get crippling embarrassment and social anxiety,” she explains and shrugs. I just grunt at having my one single flaw pointed out. She agrees, “Yes, we’re just a grab-bag of personality disorders, eh? Anyway, once I recognize it, I can try to clamp down on it. But yeah…” “But what about the disappearing act?” I ask. “I had a lot to process. Both for this whole nightmare situation we’re in and for,” she looks away and blushes again, “you know… the other night.” “Yeeeaahh… kinda wanted to talk about that,” I grimace. “It can’t happen,” Bones says firmly. “Yeah, you don’t have to worry. We’ll take it slow. I’ll show you… wait, what?” It takes a second to process what she said. I must have heard wrong. I’ve never had a girl turn me down. I’m kind of legendary. “It would be extremely weird for us to be… together,” Bones reveals. “What? Why? What’s the problem?” I wonder. I can’t believe this. “It’s just very… strange. On a few different levels.” Well that didn’t clear anything up. “‘Different?’ What’s that mean? You think we’re too different from each other?” I demand. She chuckles. “No, trust me, it’s definitely not that. You-” “Why does it matter if I’m a griffon?” I interrupt, “I know you and you know me. We both like each other. Trust me, I’ve had enough girlfrie- Oh crap! I already have a girlfriend.” “Don’t worry about Ellen,” she says. “If you say ‘She doesn’t matter,’ I’m gonna swat you. She’s still my girlfriend,” I threaten. Bones holds her hooves up in a defensive gesture. “Fine, I won’t say it. I just mean that things are going to work themselves out. Whether or not I think it’s weird or you’re still attached to Ellen, for however long that is, we’re still going to end up together.” “Jeez, and I thought I was sure of my ability to bag a girl,” I say wryly. She shrugs. “Ehh. It’s not that. You just can’t fight fate. Or love. Or even biology. Lord knows it’s practically Steve’s signature. His whole life, fighting it. I’m not. I’m just going to ride it and enjoy what comes. You should keep that in mind.” Um, okay, what? What’s she rambling about now? “And that means what, exactly?” I ask, bewildered. Bones closes her eyes, brings her foreleg up her front, like she’s gathering air, and takes a deep breath. Then she blows it back out and pushes her hoof away from her mouth. She scoots herself closer to me, pushes into my side, and drapes a foreleg over my back, gently guiding me to lay down. “It means we’re stuck with each other, so just lay back and enjoy yourself,” she smiles. “Why don’t we ‘lay in the course to our next adventure.’” I did ask for this, didn’t I? I guess that’s why they say ‘be careful what you wish for’. But who am I to argue? I answer her quote from our show, Portal, with the the classic response, “As you command, Captain.” Bones nuzzles my neck. Fuck me, I created a monster. /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Interlude - From the Newspapers of the World 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the Newspapers of the World: 1- The Aeriethans Herald, March 20, 1002 SR Missing Swiftwing Heir Found, Arrested. Clan Dishonored. Gilda Swiftwing, lost daughter of the Swiftwing clan, was defiant even upon arrest. By Harpa Sharpeyes Cloudsdale, Equestria - A mystery seven years in the making has finally been solved. Gilda Swiftwing, the missing heir to the leadership of the Swiftwing Clan has been found. Unfortunately, what should have been a day of triumph for the once-proud clan, has become yet another stain on their already tarnished honor. Gilda, 22, was arrested and detained late last night in the cloud city of Cloudsdale after throwing a trash receptacle through the plate glass window of a store display. She was charged for drunk and disorderly conduct, petty vandalism, and resisting arrest, and is currently being held in Cloudsdale Guard Corps Headquarters. This dishonor is just the latest in a long string of incidents to plague the once-honorable Swiftwing clan. One of the oldest and previously most respected of the noble clans, the Swiftwing Clan’s current dishonor ties back eighteen years, stemming from the succession of the current clan matriarch, Agaporisa “Aga” Swiftwing. The previous matriarch, Regrine Swiftwing, was known as a brilliant fighter and a fair leader, bringing much glory to her clan. But her daughter, Agaporisa, has squandered that good standing in her eighteen years as head of the clan. Rather than more traditional endeavors to bring glory and honor to her family, such as martial prowess or the competitive excellence her clan was known for for centuries, Agaporisa sought to pursue more equine activities such as philosophy, art, and music. Increasing amounts of time and clan resources are reported to have devoted to what most who have heard it call “pony music”. Agaporisa has laid two clutches. The first of which was four years old when she took over leadership and consisted of Grizelda, Gilda, Brynhilda, Glenda, Galia, and Aquila, the only male. The second clutch consisted of Gwendolyn, Gracia, Gia, and males Gisilbert, Gerald, and Quetzal. Grizelda proved herself at a young age to be a monster hunter prodigy. At the age of eight, she single-talonedly slew the phantom creature that had been plaguing the eastern Flatwoods for over a decade. At thirteen, she revolutionized the methods by which hunters slay the giants that terrorize the highlands. By her method, the main team attacks on the giant from the front, acting as a distraction, while the slayer flies up from behind and slices the base of the neck, a weak point Grizelda herself discovered. This tactic has become the new standard, and allows for safer settlement in the northern mountains. This achievement was enough to earn her a Title: Titankiller. Grizelda was swift, brave, and well respected as a leader, even at such a young age. As the eldest, she was set to take over leadership of the clan from her mother, and many expected her to usher in a new period of glory for the Swiftwings. But unfortunately, it was not to be, as she died at age 14. Cause of death was asphyxiation on a rat. The hen many were counting on to revive the honor of their clan was killed, not by a monster or enemy in glorious battle, but by an everyday snackfood. The responsibility of eventual succession passed to the next oldest, Gilda, who proved unfocused, lacking the drive and discipline of her sister. One year later, Agaporisa sent Gilda, then 15, to attend a flight camp in Cloudsdale at her own behest. After three months, all correspondence stopped and Gilda disappeared. She was missing and thought dead until last night. The next in line to be prepared for succession was Brynhilda, a weak and sickly runt. In the following years, daughters Glenda and Gia died in common hunting and sporting accidents and son Gisilbert died in a duel. While these sorts of losses are common and expected, Agaporisa declared a clan-wide moratorium on what she deemed “dangerous behavior”. This included withdrawing all clan teams and competitors from the Owlympics just days before the start of the games. Previously, star flier, Seowen Swiftwing was favored to secure the clan’s 132 straight gold medal in the marethon, the race created to honor the clan’s own founder. For a clan matriarch to focus on such frivolous pursuits is strange. But for her to force her entire clan to do so as well and waste as much time and resources as Agaporisa has in doing so is unheard of. She is even reported to have recently written music to be performed in Manehattan, a city renowned by ponies for its musical theater, and arranged at great expense for the Grifinnish ambassador to Equestria to personally deliver it. This prolonged mismanagement and bizarre behavior prompted one of the greatest upsets in Grifinland’s history. Since the nation was founded in the ashes of the ancient imperial dynasties and the Interclan Senate was formed, the Swiftwing clan has been a consistent member of the Council. The year 1000 Senate elections marked the first time in the nation’s 1200 year history that the Swiftwing clan failed to win a representative seat and thus, was ejected from the Council. Last night’s return and shameful arrest of Agaporia’s lost daughter and heir, Gilda, seems to be the final nail in the coffin of the Swiftwings’ disgrace. This hen is to be the future leader of her clan, yet she behaves like a criminal and abandoned her clan and her people for the company of ponies, an offense most clan leaders usually punish with excommunication. Further details of Gilda’s whereabouts and activities during her seven year absence are pending. Agaporisa Swiftwing, has expressed intent to post bail money for her daughter and when asked for comment, said, “I’m just relieved my little songbird is alright. Whatever she’s done, we can work out. I trust her. She’s my daughter and I love her.” More details as they arrive. > Ch. 11: Domestic Affairs > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 2 – The Road to Nowhere Chapter 11 – Domestic Affairs (In Which Nothing Eventful Happens And Everything is Happy Happy Happy) ‑=VERMONT: THE EIGHTH DAY=‑ Awkward. Again. “Soooo….” I mumble. “Soooo….” Bones echoes, levitating a glass of orange juice to her lips. I remember lips. They were pretty cool. We sit in the kitchen, avoiding looking at each other from opposite ends of the card table, eating the most awkward breakfast ever. Of all time. “Yeahhh…” I try again to break the silence. “Yeahhh…” Bones echoes from behind her orange juice. “Yeah!” exclaims Sunny Daze from my right. To my left sit Flim and Flam, shaking their heads at him. Like I said, “of all time”. I idly swirl the shredded wheat around in my bowl. Fucking pony food. Why’d we have to be out of bacon? We do have eggs (the twins are eating theirs scrambled), but somehow eating them just seems wrong to me now. Just eat the wheat, Gilda, so you can get out of here. “Hey Gilda!” Oh my god, Sunny, watch what you say next or I will punch your face so hard you’re gonna to be crapping out teeth. “So that was pretty cool last night.” “Yeah, I guess. I didn’t even know I could sing,” I agree. “But don’t expect an encore.” “Nah, not that,” he dismisses and waves a hoof. “I mean the two of you finally doing the do.” The rest of our eyes all go wide and Bones sprays half the table with juice. He continues, “Sure took ya long enough. I lost the pool and now I owe-” Flam interrupts with a fake-sounding cough. I also hear a meaty thud under the table and Sunny yelps. “Ah, heh heh. Yes,” Flim mumbles. “Indeed. Ignore the ignoramus,” adds Flam. Then to Sunny, “Try to tout some tact, trogladyte.” “I say, some discretion is in order, boy,” hisses Flam. “Jeesh! Sor-RY!” Sunny whines. I go back to my cereal, the other three to their food, while Bones sits there, melting into her seat. At least for a few peaceful seconds. That’s when Flim pipes up. “Hey Flam.” Uh oh. I can sense trouble brewing. “Yes, Flim?” “By the by, brother, what do you believe is the best breed of bird?” Is that a dig at me? “Best bird?” Flam asks with what even I can tell is fake confusion. “Do you have a favorite feathered friend?” Oh, this is definitely something about me. But now I’m kind of too interested in finding out where this is going to stop him. “Why, I don’t believe I’ve ever thought of it, brother.” “You haven’t?” Flim responds with fake shock. “But surely, everyone has a brand of bird they like best! Why, my favorite is the finch. And I know for a fact that LB here enjoys a night-in-gayle!” he finishes with a flourish and the two of them burst out laughing. Sunny joins in. Bones sinks so far into her seat she actually falls out of it. After that, there’s a flash of yellow green light and she hurries out of the room. The three stooges are laughing their balls off until I slam my palms flat on the table with a bang. They stop suddenly. “What the fuck, cocksuckers!? What’s your fucking problem?” I bellow. “Oh, do keep your feathers on,” smirks Flam. “We were merely making some merriment with the mare. Right, ma chou-fleur?” adds Flim as he turns to her empty seat and abandoned breakfast. “Da hey? Where’d she go?” asks Sunny as they all look around. “You didn’t see her run off? Real nice,” I scold. They at least have the decency to look sorry. Flam apologizes, “I assure you, we meant no indignity.” “Intended no injury,” chimes Flim. “And no injustice,” finishes Flam. “Uhhh... included no igloos?” adds Sunny. The sound of hooves meeting foreheads is the only response he gets. Okay, so they’re sorry. They didn’t mean to scare her off. But it was still a dick move and I’m damn well sure gonna make sure it doesn’t happen again. I put on my most intimidating scowl. “Okay, use those huge goddamn horse ears and listen up,” I start, “you douchnozzles hafta get that shit outta your system, fine. I get that. But you do that shit to me. I can take it. Bones… Well we all have crap we’re dealing with, but she’s... got more crap than the rest of us and she’s, like... fragile or whatever?” This is falling apart. Wrap it up, Gilda. “Anyway, you just leave her out of your stupid horseshit or you gotta deal with me. Capiche?” I’m expecting some meek “Yes, Gilda”s, but instead I get the brothers clapping their hooves in applause. “Bravo! How noble! Defending your one true love’s honor,” smiles Flam. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were such a gallant girlfriend, Gilda,” gushes Flim. Sunny just sits there looking thoughtful. It’s an usual look for him. “Sooo…” he starts, a shit-eating grin beginning to creep onto his face, “did you just give us permission to screw with you as much as we want?” Oh shit, I think I did, didn’t I? “Why, I do believe she did!” answers Flam. “You’ve just declared it open season,” agrees Flim. “Now we need to know about last night. Give us all the gory gossip, Gilda.” “Spill the beans!” adds Flam. “Did you sweep the filly off her hooves? Was it ever so romantic?” “Didja bone her?” Sunny blurts. “You! I! What!? I don’t even have a bone!” They’re all quiet for a few seconds. Ha, my ironclad argument shut them up. “So you did, then?” Godammit Sunny. “How did the encounter eventuate?” asks Flim. “Can I watch?” GODAMMIT Sunny! “Nothing happened!” I screech. “Oh, don’t be bashful, big bird.” “Yes, there’s no need to play it coy.” “NOTHING. HAPPENED,” I repeat. “Nothing?” the twins ask in disappointment at the same time. “No! What the hell did you think? I dragged her upstairs and right away started fucking her brains out?” I question. They’re both quiet again, looking guiltily away from me. “Uhh… yeah! I mean, come on, duh,” spouts Sunny. I facepalm so hard I see stars. These morons think I’m some sort of crazy sexmonster. “Oh you fucking tardlings. I have a girlfriend back in New York, idiots.” They all let out a collective, “Ohhhhh.” “Besides, Bones is… well, she’s still not sure about a lot stuff. She tried getting into it, but she’s… yeah,” I try and fail to explain. Bones really did try at first. But she just kept getting more and more nervous until she started to hyperventilate and almost passed out. It was so sad it started to be funny and then all the way around back to sad. I had to make her breathe into a pillowcase while I got her a glass of water. Then she got all down on herself. I told her not to worry since I was still technically involved with Ellen anyway. She kept telling me I was going to “leave my marefriend soon” to “achieve my destiny”, but as far as I’m concerned, Ellen and I are still together. I may be a terrible girlfriend, but at least I’m not a cheater. “So what did happen?” inquires Flim. Oh right. I’m still being interrogated by these three clowns. “We watched TV until she fell asleep,” I answer. It’s true. Bones downloaded the latest episode of Portal that we missed and we watched it. She conked out sometime in the last five minutes, mumbling something about, “the messenger in the window’”. The end. A look of just the most extreme disappointment washes over the trio. “Oh COME OOOON!” whines Sunny. “Oh, I’m so sorry to disappoint you and your creepy stalker expectations,” I mock. “What’s with you guys? Why are you so obsessed with this?” “We’re BORED!” Flim and Flam shout in unison. “There’s not even a dash to do around this domicile,” Flim explains. “We’re not accustomed to being stationary for such a protracted period of time,” Flam elaborates. Flim continues, “Not to mention further... physical frustrations.” I don’t think I want to know. I look at Sunny, expecting him to add his two cents. He catches me looking. “What? I just think two chicks are hot.” Jesus, this guy. Then he furrows his brow and looks toward the ceiling like he’s thinking out loud. “Wait. Is ‘chick’ racist? I mean, a chick is like a bird. And you’re like a bird. But… I got wings now too,” he punctuates this by giving them a flap. “So does that make me sort of a chick too? I… huhhh…. Well whatever, it’s still hawwt.” We all take a minute to fully absorb those words of wisdom. Or just try to forget they ever happened. That’s when I notice someone standing at the back door, peering in through the screen. What the holy FUCK!? “I’m not quite sure what I’m more confused about. What I’m looking at here or what he just said,” the intruder says. The sun is behind the person, so I can’t see them very well, but I recognize the voice. “Ellen?” “Gayle?” Holy shit, this is awkward. And weird. I was JUST talking about her. Talk about a coinci- wait, what am I thinking, Ellen is here. How is Ellen here? “You are Gayle, right?” she asks through the screen door. “Ooooo! It’s the old girlfriend!” crows Sunny. “This is gonna be good. This is better than a movie. Oh! Popcorn! I need popcorn!” “Sunny, I swear to god I am gonna punch your face off. It’s going to be so amazing they’re gonna make a movie about it. It’ll be called ‘Face Off’.” “There’s already a movie called “Face/Off.” “Then Face Off 2! The Repunchening! Fuck. Off.” “It IS you!” exclaims Ellen. “Only Gayle has that miraculous way with words. Can I…” she knocks lightly on the door, “Can I come in?” “Yeah. I guess you better,” I allow her. She opens the door and steps inside. “It’s not like you haven’t already seen us.” Then more to myself, “God, we are REALLY bad this ‘staying hidden’ thing.” “Yeah, I was kind of wondering about that. If you’re trying to avoid being seen, why would you leave the door open?” she asks. “Hey, it was hot,” Sunny chirps. Of course. A round of eyerolls all around. Ellen approaches me. She reaches out her hand, but then pulls it back. “I can’t believe that’s you. This is so strange.” “Oh, oh, this weird for you,” I deadpan. Ellen holds up her hands apologetically. “Ohhh, I know this is obviously stranger for you. But you’ve had more time to get used to it. I’m just seeing this for the first time. I mean, it’s real live ponies from your roommate’s show. It’s one thing to know about it. It’s quite another to see it in the flesh.” Know about it? What does she mean she knew about it? Before I can ask about that, Flim speaks up, “Gilda, do you intend to introduce us?” Ellen looks confused. “Who’s Gilda?” “I’M Gilda,” I answer. “You’re Gilda?” she echoes. “I’m Gilda,” I repeat. “You’re Gayle,” she counters. “I’m Gayle and Gilda.” “I’m Sunny!” I groan. This kid is killing me today. Anyway… I introduce them one at a time and point to each as I go. “Ellen, this is Flim… Flam… and idiot.” “Charmed,” nods Flam. “Ah mon exquise beauté. Je sais que vous êtes déjà pris, mais lorsque vous avez terminé avec l'oiseau, je serai ici pour vous, mon amour. Vous ne savez même pas ce que je dis, mais si je le dis en français, vous êtes putty dans mes sabots,” Flim spews in rapid French. I have no idea what he said, but I’m pretty sure he just hit on my girlfriend. “Vous feriez mieux de fais gaffe, Romeo. Je suis armé,” Ellen shoots back. She can speak French? It’d be nice if they cut the frog talk for the rest of our sakes. “Ah heh heh,” Flim chuckles nervously, then cocks an ear “Is that the washing machine? I think can hear my clothes calling. Ciao!” he declares and backs out of the room. “What was THAT about?” Sunny wonders and looks at Flam. Flam shakes his head. “Don’t look at me. I’m none the wiser. I only speak a bare minimum French. I’m fairly limited to ordering in a restaurant, finding a bathroom, and asking ‘Where is the shoe store?’ My fool brother picked it up for the intention of also picking up women. I didn’t follow what what was just said here.” We turn to Ellen expectantly. She shakes her head, “You don’t want to know.” She turns to Sunny. “Steve, who are these guys? Brony friends of yours?” What? She thinks Sunny is…? Sunny looks just as baffled. “Who’s Steve?” “That’s Bones,” I remind him, “She thinks you’re Bones.” “Oh,” he says flatly. Then a goofy grin comes across his face and he giggles, “Hehhehhehheh. You’re barking up the wrong tree there, lady.” “Where’s Steve?” she asks, “I thought he was with you.” “Probably upstairs,” I reveal. “Then who the heck is this?” she asks me. “I’m Sunny!” Ellen rolls her eyes. “Your real name, fool.” “Sunny Daze.” She growls in annoyance. “What does your mother call you?” “Dave.” “Who the heck is Dave?” she asks me again. “I’m Dave!” She drops her face into her hands. “Oh my god, didn’t we just do this? Gayle, a straight answer. Who are these… people you’re with?” I shrug. “Eh, just some guys we picked up along the way.” Flam raises a hoof, “An interjection, if I might. We actually picked you up, if you recall.” Whatever. Who can remember the little details? “You… just happened to run into ponies; other people like you; on the road and let them join you?” Ellen asks in amazement. And maybe some frustration. I know that feeling. “Believe me, I know,” I agree. “All of these coincidences. It’s fucking weird. I keep saying, it’s like there’s this connection between us. Of all the people in all the places in the entire world, we just happen to be conveniently thrown together.” Suddenly, a thought hits me. “Wait a second. Speaking of coincidence, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad to see you,” I quickly add. “But how did you find us?” “Through my work, of course,” she answers like it should be obvious. It’s not. “Uhm, where do you work?” Ellen sighs and shakes her head ruefully. “Gayle, Gayle, Gayle… What am I going to do with you? You really don’t listen, do you?” Um, what? The hell did I do now? Was I supposed to know where she works? More little details, man. “I believe I’m going to give you two some privacy,” Flam cuts in, making an awkward moment even worse. He floats his plate over to the sink (which seems to shock Ellen) and drops it in as he walks out of the room. That just leaves… Sunny is staring at us with his full attention, grin plastered across his face, head held in his hooves, elbows on the table, like he’s watching a really exciting movie. “Do you mind?” Ellen challenges. “No no, I don’t mind. Keep going. I gotta see how this turns out,” he encourages us. “Don’t bother,” I advise Ellen. “He’s like a parasite. We’re not going to get rid of him if he doesn’t want to go. So how did you find us?” “Gayle, I’m a computer tech for the FBI,” she reveals. “I’ve told you this more than once. Why do you think I didn’t want you calling me at work?” “Oh shnikes! The feds know about us!?” Sunny shouts in alarm and jumps out of his seat. That’s actually a good point. He’s on the ball for once. He trots around in circles a couple times, and dances in place in a blind panic. Okay, maybe I spoke too soon. He leaps over to me and starts yanking on my foreleg. “We gotta get outta here! Come on! Let’s go! Let’s go!” “Cool the fuck out, man! Leggo!” I order. He’s not having it. “Don’t you get it!? The FBI knows we’re here! They’re on their way here right now! Them or the CIA or the Men in Black or... or... or Section 18 are gonna come and cut us open!” I pull my foreleg away from him. “Calm your tits, man. Ellen’s cool,” I reassure him. Then as an afterthought, “Wait, what was that last one?” Ellen answers for him. “Supposedly some shadowy fringe science group. But it’s just an urban legend passed around between conspiracy nuts. There’s no record it ever existed.” “You WOULD say that! You’re a fed!” Sunny accuses. “They’re probably right outside the door! I like my insides where they are!” “Calm down. No one knows you’re here,” Ellen reassures him. “You do!” “Just me, then,” she corrects. “After Gayle and Steve ran off, I started a little investigation on my own. I covered my tracks so no one else knows about it.  You might think about trying a little of that yourself.” What the hell’s that supposed to mean? “It means you’re leaving a trail of destruction in your wake so wide a monkey could track you,” Ellen answers the question I didn’t mean to actually ask. “What do you mean?” I do mean to ask. At least, Sunny seems to have calmed down and sat back down. “Just after you left, your credit card was used at an outdoor mall in Yonkers, where there was a report of an altercation involving a woman matching your general description, wearing a ‘feathered hat’,” she recites as if reading from a report. “Shortly after, Steve’s debit card was used to purchase gas at a rest stop outside Saratoga Springs. And again a few hours later at a campsite just east of there.” Uh oh. I guess we’re busted. But Ellen isn’t done yet. She continues, “Over the next two days, there were reports of a large animal in the area, culminating in a man claiming he was assaulted by a, quote, ‘giant, talking monster that had the bottom half of a cat and the top half of a bird.’” Monster? I knew I should have eaten that guy. “He claims this ‘monster’ was accompanied by two colorful horse-like creatures, attacked him, swore profusely, and after he escaped, they drove away in a powder blue Passat. Like the one Steve drives. Then, a traffic camera in Vermont snapped a picture of the same car, with Steve’s license plates. Now, there have been similar reports of a large animal here in the South Burlington area for the past week.” Yeesh. Okay, I guess we ARE really bad at this. Ellen opens her mouth to continue. Oh jeez, she’s not done yet? “And all of that evidence is completely redundant because I’ve been tracking both of your phones and Steve’s computer. You should probably destroy those,” she concludes. I put two and two together. “Oh! So that’s what you meant when you said you knew about there being ponies.” Ellen shrugs. “Well, ‘strange creatures drive off in my girlfriend’s roommate’s car’ equals ‘they must have transformed into said creatures’? That alone is kind of a leap.” She pauses. “But about two weeks ago, we got the first report of a person with horse ears and a tail. Everyone thought it was a joke. But then the boards started lighting up across the country, and even from foreign branches, with similar reports. And then they were about full-on ‘ponies’. Even DC knows about it. We’re trying to keep track of it all, but we can’t really get any solid evidence and no one knows what to make of it. When I was going through your case, I figured what must have happened,” she finishes. Sunny’s hoof is tapping nervously. “You’re, ah, you’re gonna keep this to yourself, right?” Ellen sighs. “Yes. I got rid of all the evidence that could be used to find you here. Which is highly illegal, by the way. I could lose my job and be sent to prison if anyone found out. I hope you appreciate that,” she scolds. “Yeah, well we don’t want anybody losing their jobs over us. I mean, what’s a little dissection?” Sunny interjects sarcastically. “Ignore him. He’s an idiot. You’re the best, babe,” I coo and lean in to kiss Ellen. She leans away as I move in. “What’s the matter?” I ask. “Gayle, I can’t. Not when you’re like this,” says firmly. “But you were taking it so well,” I object. “It isn’t just that. It’s… you and me. We would never...” She trails off with a sigh. What’s she getting at? “What? If you have something to say, say it,” I challenge. “I think we need to… well, you know.” She’s dancing around what she wants to say. “Oh, I get it. You’re dumping me. No one dumps me. I dump people,” I rant. I have to admit, I have kind of a streak going. “You-” “Ohhhh. I get it now. You’re racist against birds,” I accuse. “Racist against...? What? That’s not what this-” She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Gayle, there’s a difference between understanding your girlfriend has a beak and actually wanting to shove your tongue in it.” “Ooooo! BURN!” snickers Sunny. “Shut up!” Ellen and I turn and shout in sync. “Why are you here again?” she barks at him. “Because! You guys are better than my soaps,” he grins. “If he isn’t going to leave, is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more private?” she asks. “Yeah. Actually, this probably involves Bones too. Let’s go upstairs,” I suggest. “Bones? You mean Steve?” she questions. I nod as we get up and start to leave the kitchen. Sunny starts to follow us. “Where do you think you’re going?” I demand of him. “I’m coming to watch!” he answers. “No, you’re staying here,” I tell him. “Have you never heard of privacy?” “No way, dude. I’m coming,” he argues. “I need my stories. We’re just about to get to the part where they reveal the love triangle.” “The what?” Ellen snaps and looks between us. I look away. “Uhhhhh…” “See? This is gold!” “We’ll talk about this with Bones in private,” I tell Ellen. Then to Sunny, “Sit, boy.” I press down on his rump and force him into a sitting position and start to leave again. When he stands up again, I wheel on him with a glare that could peel paint. “But… my stories…” he whines. I point at him and grunt, then point at the ground and bark, “Down.” He slowly lowers his ass back to the floor. “Good boy.” He whimpers at me and gives me the puppy dog eyes. “No. Stay. Come on, let’s go, Ell.” Sunny continues giving me the big, sad eyes as we leave the room and head upstairs. Now that we’re both standing even, it’s weird looking up at Ellen. I used to be a good eight inches taller than her, but now I have to look way up to look her in the eye. The only other human I’ve been around since I went on all fours has been Liz. I didn’t know her before and she’s so tall anyway, I guess I didn’t notice just how short I am now compared to regular people. I don’t like it. Bones’ door is closed, so I knock. “Hey Bones. It’s me. You feel like seeing a visitor?” “I don’t care if they apologise, they can go… jump in a lake!” she shouts through the door. “‘Jump in a lake’? Did you just come out of the forties?” I ask in bewilderment.  “Man, you used swear right up there with the best of ‘em, like me. What happened to your foul mouth? I miss it.” “I can’t help it!” she cries. Ellen taps my shoulder. “I thought we were going to see Steve. This sounds like a woman,” she whispers. I just raise my eyebrows at her. “Well ready or not, we’re coming in!” I warn Bones. I open the door and we enter the room. Ellen and Bones stare at each other for a beat. “Steve?” “ELLEN!?” With that, Bones flies across the room to her sleeping corner and tries to hide herself under her blanket. I say “tries” because her whole ass is still sticking out. But then her entire stance shifts, like someone flipped a switch. Her head pops up, blanket still draped over her, and looks at us. “Oh, right. Ellen. I wasn’t expecting you until afterward.” “What? Steve? But you’re… Wait, you were expecting me?” Ellen questions. “You might say that.” She magics the blanket off her head. “What does that mean?” Ellen asks, “And why are you female? You are female, right? What did you mean you were expecting me?” Bones and I share a “You wanna take this?” look with each other. She sighs and tries to explain her crazy idea that she’s psychic, which leads from there into us telling our whole story from the start and our theories about what’s going on. Finally, Ellen repeats for Bones how she found us. When Ellen is finished, Bones smiles knowingly. “Ahh, the fact that we’re all here. What connexion can there have been between many people in the innumerable histories of this world, who, from opposite sides of great gulfs, have, nevertheless, been very curiously brought together!” That sounds kinda like what I said downstairs. “...Um, what?” I ask. Bones rolls her eyes. “Dickens, you philistine. Bleak House?” “Mmhm, that’s definitely Steve,” nods Ellen. “Anyway, I appreciate you covering our tracks,” Bones thanks her. “I hope so. I risked a lot to do it,” Ellen says. “Ultimately, it doesn’t make any difference, but thanks for the thought,” Bones responds, causing Ellen to frown. I roll my eyes. So close. We almost got through the whole explanation without Bones being crazy. An edge creeps into Ellen’s voice. “So what’s this I hear about a love triangle?” Bones blushes. “Oh, right. That. Well, you see… I’m gay.” “Yeah, I know.” “What!? What do you mean ‘you know’?” Bones shouts. “I may not be a field investigator, but you don’t get into the FBI by being unobservant. Not that it took much. I had you pegged from the start. You were pretty obvious,” Ellen answers. “But you were still in, so I figured it wasn’t my place to say anything…,” she trails off. A lightbulb goes on over her head and she turns to me. “Ohhhh. This makes sense now. When your friend downstairs said ‘love triangle’ in relation to Steve, I thought it meant you were going straight on me, but this… This makes sense.” She’s taking this… surprising well. Like, suspiciously well. “You’re not mad?” I ask. “Well, I’m not exactly pleased that you’re cheating on me-” “Technically, she isn’t,” Bones interrupts. “All we did was acknowledge a mutual attraction. I had a vision of us getting together in the future, but we haven’t actually done anything. Gilda insisted we couldn’t because you and she were still together. And I’m just a whole mess of social defects.” “Huh. I don’t know what to say, Gayle,” Ellen says with both surprise and admiration. “I didn’t know you were so loyal.” The fuck is that supposed to mean? Does she really think I’m that shitty? I just shake my head. “What does it matter if we do anything or not? You were going to dump me anyway,” I accuse Ellen. “During the hardest time of my life- err, of this life anyway- when I need support the most. I turn into a griffon and you dump me.” Ellen cringes a little. “Welll… yeah that’s a factor. But that’s not the main reason. Gayle, do you know why I didn’t support you when you needed it? How could I? You ran off without telling me!” she accuses back. She continues, “If we were ever going to work out, you would have come to me for help. You’d know what I do and that I could have helped you out. We would trust each other.” That one stings. Mostly because it’s true. “Gayle, how much longer do you honestly think we were going to last?” I sigh. I don’t have an answer. “I looked into your romantic history,” she reveals. She did... “WHAT!?” “Like I said; no trust,” she shrugs. “I’m the longest you’ve ever been with the same person, and we’ve only been together for four months. What does that say?” That can’t be right, can it? No, yeah, that sounds about right. “It says... that I was doing really good this time?” is my weak answer. “And now you’re moving on to the next girl,” Ellen counters. Bones pipes up, “Um, neither of us is actually actively trying for that. It’s just what’s going to happen, despite our best efforts.” “No, it’s alright,” Ellen assures us. That’s surprising. “Gayle, we were never going to work out. I know it and you know it. It’s not anyone’s fault. I’m intrusive and jealous and have trust issues. You’re aloof and thoughtless and have problems forming attachments.” “No, please, don’t sugar coat it for me,” I snark. “See? Right there,” she says and punctuates it by jabbing a finger at me. “It was going to happen sooner rather than later. This,” she waves her hand in a circle at me, “just gave us a solid reason to break it off.” I glare at Ellen with disgust. “And you had to track me down and come all the way out here just to dump me personally?” To her credit, she actually meets my gaze without flinching. “Gayle, despite what you may be thinking, I’m not doing this out of spite. A breakup isn’t something you do over the phone, right?” I shrug. She drops her face into her palm. “Oh god, you’ve done it over the phone.” I shrug again and she continues. “Even if we weren’t meant to be, what we had was important to me. I’ll always care about you in some way, like my other exes. I felt I owed it to us to do this in person. We both deserve the closure.” She smirks and playfully punches me in the flank. “And I’ll admit I wanted to see if this whole pony thing for myself.” I pause a beat. I may not like what she’s saying, but I have to admire how straightforward she is. I mean, I did fall for her for a reason, and this is it: she’s got balls. Errr, not balls balls. Whatever.  I mean she’s a firecracker. But that’s over now I guess. I snort. “Well, at least you’re honest.” I pause. “So this is it?” “I guess it is,” she answers. The three of us stand up, looking awkwardly at each other. “Sooo…” I drone. “Soo…” Ellen echoes. “Been a lot of ‘so’ this morning,” Bones points out. I chuckle in agreement. “At least you’ve got that,” Ellen smiles. “What?” I wonder. “A rebound,” she fills in. Bones blushes and starts to apologize, “I’m really sorry! We-” “Stop,” Ellen interrupts. “I’m happy for you. For all of her faults, Gayle’s a…” she scrunches her face up and looks me over with one eye, like she’s sizing up produce at the store, then turns back to Bones. “... a pretty good person. Rough around the edges and terrible girlfriend, sure.” She knows I can hear her, right? Her eyes flick over to me briefly and she smirks. “But she’s got her good qualities. She’s got a lion’s heart. I could even call her an out-of-this world chick.” Ugh. Those jokes are awful. They’re so forced. I’d break up with her just for that. Then she gets serious again. “But if anyone can reign her in, it’s you, Steve. I’ve seen the two of you together back home. You’re practically an old married couple already. And if you apologize, this feels like an affair and a dumping. She and I might have been bound to break up sooner or later. It may have been exacerbated by this… this whole strange situation. But I want it to be mutual. So save your apology.” Finally, she turns and steps up right in front me. “Let’s end this on a high note.” Ellen reaches out a hand and hesitantly pats the top of me head and rubs a few times, like I’m a dog. Then, just as I’m about to tell her to stop ruffling my feathers, as if just figuring out that I’m not some bizarre monster, she kneels down and pulls me into a bonecrushing hug. Well, crushing for anyone else who’s not a super tough griffon. I rebalance myself and hug her back. She rubs my back, running her fingers through my fur. I remember she always had a thing for cats so I purr a little, both for her sake and just because I feel good. She lets out a tiny squeak of delight. “Wait, you can purr?” Bones pipes up from off to the side. “But your chest and throat are bird. How can-” I shoot her a glare over Ellen’s shoulder. “Don’t ruin the moment.” She makes a zipping motion across her mouth and looks away. “I guess I won’t get to cash in that birthday raincheck now, huh?” I joke. Ellen chuckles ruefully into my feathers. “Always a one track mind, huh?” She leans back to look me in the face. “See what happens when you only have pussy on the brain? You become one.” Ha, she’s got me there. She always had me. Even in the face of all of this, she’s so cool and makes it look so easy. I wish I knew how to say it right. God, I love you, Ellen. “I love you too, Gayle. I’m sorry it couldn’t work,” she whispers back. With that, we separate and the hug is over, and with it, our relationship. “Well, this was fun,” I mumble, almost out of habit. “Yeah. Fun,” she parrots. We walk over to the door so I can show her out. “Thanks again for helping keep us secret.” She grabs the doorknob but stops. She half turns her head to look at Bones side-on. “Take care of the old fool for me. Lord knows she needs it.” Bones salutes her and says, “It’s why I’m here.” I roll my eyes. I can take care of myself. Ellen turns the knob and pulls the door open, revealing Sunny standing right there with his head turned sideways and his ear cocked, like he was listening through the door. Oh, this little SHIT. What did I tell him? He’s getting it good this time. I clench my fist and start to raise it. I’m gonna- Then I see his face. His eyes are watery, the fur beneath them is all wet, and he’s wearing the biggest, sappiest grin in the world. I hesitate. He lunges at me, knocking me to the ground, and wraps me in a bonecrushing hug. Actually crushing this time. Even for a griffon. Must be that pony strength. Ellen smiles at us warmly. “I guess I’ll see myself out. Bye, Gayle. Steve.” “And Sunny!” he chirps though his hot, snotty tears. “And Sunny,” she adds. She gives us a little half wave and walks out. I kick Sunny off of me and sit up. “What is the matter with you!?” He just grins at me like an idiot. “I told you to leave us alone. I told you this was private!” I scold. “I know.” “Why the hell are you eavesdropping? I oughta tear you a new cloaca,” I threaten and grab him by the tuft of fur on his chest. “Go ahead. If it’ll make you feel better,” he sniffles I… what? “I’m just glad you’re alright,” he chirps. He… huh? I left go of him. “What?” “I was worried how you were gonna be after she was done with ya. You’re always so hard on yourself, so down and always so mad. It’s not good for you. I just want to make sure you and LB are alright,” Sunny explains, his lip still quivering. “Why do you care?” I wonder. “Because! You guys are my friends!” he blurts in his usual “it should be obvious” way. I’m not sure what to say to that. We’re not… Are we? He continues. “Hey, I know I’m not the sharpest bulb in the crayon box. I can't figure out what to do and I know that isn't changing. I can’t do magic like those guys, and I’m not tough like you. I don't invent stuff or see the future. ...But... I can try to make sure you all can laugh and smile and stuff. I don't mind being laughed at. Makes me feel like I'm doing something…” Well shit. When did Sunny effin’ Daze become my friend and how did I not notice it happen? I sigh. “Goddamnit. Come here, you dummy,” I grunt and lightly put my arms around him, awkwardly patting his back as he… snuggles into my chest. Ugh. Bones pipes up from behind me, “So wait, Sunny. Are you saying you’re trying to be-” “Yup!” He looks up at me with bright, watery eyes. “Gilda… can I be your Pinkie Pie?” Welp, that’s the end of that. I push him away. Gently, this time. “You sure know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?” I growl and stalk out of the room. “But I just wanna see you smile, smile, smile!” he calls after me. I can’t help but feel the corners of my mouth turn up. I go to one of the other bedrooms, where I’ve got some of my stuff stored. I don’t sleep in there (Don’t want to ruin the carpet with the moisture from Claude the cloud), but it’s where my stuff is. I dig through one of my bags until I find what I’m looking for: a silver necklace. Inside is a picture of me and Ellen from our third date. She gave it to me on our one month anniversary. She’s sappy like that. And kinda pushy, now that I think about it. I never wear it, but I still like to have it around. It’s just… I dunno? I leave the room again and I look out the window at the top of the stairs and see Ellen walking down the driveway. There’s a little round turnaround area a little ways down about the point where it starts to curve around back of the house, right before the tree line. Her car, a little green Accord, is parked over there in the shade of a giant oak. She must have stopped down there and walked the rest of the way so we wouldn’t hear her driving up. Pretty sneaky. I open the window and shout down to her, “HEY!” Ellen turns to look for the commotion. I squeeze through the window and jump out. Even from here, I can see the look of horror on her face before she realizes I’m not falling, but flying. I sail over her head and land on top of her car with a heavy thud, bouncing the thing.  She closes the distance between us, looking impressed. She puts her hands on her hips and looks up at me. “Always have to show off, huh?” “You know me,” I smirk. “If it helps, I think it suits you. The flying too.” “Thanks? I guess.” “So, what, did you miss me already?” she asks. “Nah. I wanted to make sure you didn’t forget me,” I answer. “Oh, right. Because that was a danger. Trust me, after everything you put me through, I won’t be able to forget you no matter how much I want to.” Her face is stern, but I can hear the smile in her voice. Here. I’ve got something for you,” I offer and shove my closed claw at her. Ellen reaches out and I put the necklace in her outstretched hand. “This is...” She chokes up. “Something to remember me by.” “I didn’t think you-” I silence her with a quick peck (no jokes) on the cheek. Then with a leap and a mighty flap, I shoot into the air and soar back toward the house. I look back and see her holding her cheek and staring at the necklace in her hand. This is the tricky part. I hit the house kind of hard, but I manage to grab the window sill and scrabble inside. I look back out and watch Ellen shake her head, give one last glance back at the house, then climb in her car and drive off. After she’s gone, I stay at the window, staring at nothing. Even though it went better than I could have hoped, I can’t help but feel a little bitter about the whole thing. I feel something settle in on my right side, then another on my left and a wing wraps around me. Well… maybe it’s bittersweet. »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~» “Come on, Bones, just put it in there!” “It won’t fit! “Try flicking it!” “I’m trying!” “Try harder! You’re losing me here! “I’ve never done this before! How will I know if I’ve found the right spot?” “Trust me, you’ll know. When you get it, I’m gonna blow.” “Alright, here I go!” I hear a creak over off to my side and catch the movement of the door opening slightly out of the corner of my eye. Then, the yellow-green glow of Bones’s magic wraps around the knob and yanks it open. Sunny, Flim, and Flam fall through the doorway in a big heap. They quickly untangle themselves and look up at us eagerly. They’re just in time to see Bones flick her game controller with her magic. On the computer screen, her character chucks a bomb at my base, landing in just the right spot to blow the whole thing up. “P1 Wins!” flashes across the screen. I don’t think anyone’s face has ever gone from such pure joy to crushing disappointment as fast as it has for these three guys. “You’re just vying in a video game?” asks Flim in disbelief. “Yeessss…?” answers Bones suspiciously. “What else would we be doing?” “More importantly,” I growl, “What are you three doing at our door? What did I say about privacy?” They squeak out their apologies and I throw them out of the room. Literally in Sunny’s case. He actually gets some air time. I lock the door and then lay back down next to Bones. “‘Our’ door?” she asks me with one raised eyebrow. “What can I say? I work fast.” She loses her smile. “Remember what we talked about.” Earlier we talked about “us”. Ellen did give us her blessing and all. I actually said I thought Ellen took the whole thing pretty well. The break up and the whole “Hey-Gayle-turned-into-a-griffon” thing. But Bones pointed out she was probably just putting on a brave face and probably completely lost it and broke down as soon as she got out of the driveway. So then I felt fucking awful about that. Thanks, Bones. But anyway, now me and Bones are free to hook up, but she wanted to have a long talk about it first. I could bore you with the details, but long story short, she’s still nervous and wants to take it slow. She even planned out numbered phases. So anal. Plus, she’s still super freaked out by my cloaca. That’s gonna be a real hurdle later. “I know. Relax, I’m kidding.” She closes the laptop and yawns. “The interruption was just as well. I do believe it’s about that time.” I scratch the back of my head. “So, uh, you want me to go orrr…” She shakes her head. “No, I think we can go to step three.” She lays down and rolls over, her back to me. Phase three is “sleepy time cuddles”. I didn’t name it. I scoot in behind her and wrap my front legs around her. In under two minutes I feel her breathing slow and she’s completely out. It’s late and I’ve been up for probably twenty hours. I mean, that’s normal for me now, so no biggie. I just mean I think it’s time I got some shuteye too. I shut my eyes and squeeze Bones a little closer. The movement disturbs her and she starts muttering in her sleep.  “And one and two and through and through. The vorpal blade went snicker-snack. Goo goo gajoo.” It’s just more weird shit about walruses, eggmen, and bandersnatches. Doesn’t matter. I’ve learned to tune out the crazy. And even if I hadn’t, I can sleep through anything. I fade out pretty quickly, lulled to sleep by the slow rhythmic movement of her breathing and the quiet music of her voice. The last thing I hear before I drift off is, “If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~zzZZZZ~~~~~~~~~~~~ ‑=VERMONT: THE NINTH DAY=‑ “Who is it?” asks Flam. “What do they want?” asks Flim. “And when will they go away?” asks Flam again. The two of them plus Sunny turn to Bones expectantly. She holds up her hooves defensively. “Hey, don’t look at me! I don’t know anything about this!” The rest of them still think she knows everything that’s going to happen. About noon, a little bit after Liz’s visit for the day, I just happened to be outside, chilling in my treebox, when a car pulled up the driveway. I was watching Flim and Sunny screwing around in the little garden patch when I caught a glint of light out of the corner of my eye. It was a good thing too, or I might not have gotten everyone inside in time. The car stopped at the turnaround, and it’s just been sitting there for half an hour or so. Whoever’s inside is just sitting, probably watching the house. We’re all just sitting ourselves, peeking out the windows, watching back. The house doesn’t have any curtains, so we have to be careful not to be too visible. “Who is it?” Flam asks for the probably the tenth time. Yeah, that’s not getting old at all. “What do they want?” Flim follows. “And-” The car door opens and the driver steps out. He’s tall, with dark hair, and handsome. I gotta admit he’s good looking, if I was into that sorta thing. He looks around, then starts approaching the house. He stops to examine the Winnebago and try to look inside, then continues toward us again. “Everybody upstairs!” I bark. “Why? Who is that?” questions Sunny. “Fuck if I know! But if we’re down here, he can just look in the windows and see us. Now move it!” I order. The five of us dash upstairs and crowd around the window overlooking the driveway. “Where is he?” asks Sunny. “I don’t see him,” answers Flam. Everyone splits up to a different room to look around. I don’t see anything from the window in the master bedroom or the attached bathroom. I feel something brush my flank. Instinctively, I spin around and grab the intruder. Sunny looks more surprised than I do. Quickly, I release his neck and he rubs it with a forehoof, coughing. “Why’re you sneaking up on me like that? You can’t do that, man,” I hiss. He coughs again. “Sorry,” he rasps. “Bones spotted him from her room.” I follow him out and we catch everyone else coming out of her room. Bones gestures to us to follow and we go into the room where I was storing my crap. We peek out the window, and I see the man creeping around the back of the house, trying to peer in windows. “Jeez, what is it with us and random guys snooping around our hideouts, huh, Bones?” She just shrugs. I whisper smugly, “See, guys? If we were down there, he’d have seen us.” “But he’s already eyed the Eagle,” Flim points out. “What? He never saw me!” I argue. “The RV, fool,” Flam corrects. “Right. I knew that.”  “Yeah, and all our stuff is down there. He can still see that,” Sunny points out. Oh. Well shit. “Oh yeah. Um. Well then all he knows is that someone’s here. He doesn’t know who or what we are ‘cause he hasn’t seen us,” I rationalize. “I think he saw us!” gasps Flam. “DUCK!” We all drop to the floor. After a few seconds, Bones cautiously edges back up to the edge of the window and looks out. “I think it’s okay. I don’t think he saw anything. He’s going around the corner of the house.” We file out of the room and into Sunny’s. Only Bones looks out the window, and carefully this time. The creeper is still on the move, looking in windows. Almost immediately, we make our way to the unoccupied master bedroom, this time Flam playing lookout. We shift to a different window as he rounds to the front of the house. That’s when the doorbell rings. We sit and stare at each other for a few seconds before Sunny whispers, “We’re not going to answer it, right?” “Of course, not!” hisses Flam. “Don’t be a dunce!” follows Flim. The man starts pounding on the door. “I know you’re in there! Open up, you son of a bitch!” Ummm… what? “We sure we don’t know this guy?” I wonder. Everyone shakes their heads. “He sure sounds like he knows one of us,” I mutter. We stealthily watch him as he rings the bell, bangs the door, and yells and screams, calling someone a “bastard”, a “douchebag”, and every other insult in the book. He seems to get tired of that after five minutes or so and stomps off back to his car. We return to the first window and watch him go. Along the way, he stops to pick up a rock and throw it at the Winnebago. Flam springs up and squawks in outrage. “My beautiful baby! That miserable son of a nag! I’ll murdalize him! I’ll give him whatfor!” He starts to run out of the room, I guess to go attack the guy, but Flim catches his tail in his teeth. “Becalm yourself, brother. He won’t be worth it.” Flam quietly simmers, eyes wide and nostrils flaring before rushing back to the window. The stranger has gotten back into his car and is starting to drive away. Flam’s horn lights up green and suddenly the car backfires loudly. It sputters and chugs, belching black smoke until it’s out of site. “Whoooa. Did you do that?” Sunny asks in amazement. Flam snorts. “I’ve told you. I’ve a talent for machines and all things technical.” “Well,” Bones says with a chuckle. “That was sure exciting.” “What do you think that was about?” Sunny wonders. No one offers any answers beside a shrug or two. I throw my hands up in a ‘who knows’ gesture. “He probably had the wrong house. Whatever. I’m sure it isn’t anything we’ll have to worry about again.” ...Right? »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~» The rest of the afternoon was a lot less exciting. The guys were mad that we’d been holding out the video games on them. I’m not really a gamer and I didn’t know Bones had any games on her laptop before we played last night, so I was innocent. But they wanted to play, so that’s what we did. Even Flam, who normally spends most of the day holed up in the RV by himself got in on it. We only had the two controllers, so the four of us took turns. Bones went and took a nap. Like I said, I’m not a dweeb- I mean gamer. But Flam definitely is, so he kept beating me in this shooter game. He’s a bad winner and I’m a bad loser, so Sunny had to keep stopping almost-fights. But eventually we got tired of it and it was getting to be about dinner time. Flim and Flam decided they wanted to cook a fancy dinner for everybody instead of everyone just kinda picking at something when they got hungry. Sunny dragged me out to his little garden to help him get ingredients. I wouldn’t have thought there’d be anything since we’ve only been here nine days, but he’s already got herbs ready to go and he’s even starting to get some vegetables. He really must be from a family of earth pony farmers after all. The big stuff like the tomatoes weren’t ready yet, but we got some small stuff like beans,  mushrooms, pea pods, and some tiny carrots. The carrots could definitely have used more time to get bigger, so we left most of them for later. I have no idea where he even got the seeds for all of these things, but I know better than to ask. It’s better to just accept things. We brought the produce in and now the brothers are cooking it all up. It all smells really good. The only way it could be better is if there was some meat in here. I finished my last pizza for lunch and that was it for meat in the house. Oh well, I shouldn’t bitch. How often do I get guys cooking fancy meals for me? When they tell me the food is almost done, I go to wake up Bones to eat. I find her curled up half under her blanket, hugging her pillow. As soon as I enter the room I can hear her. She almost never stops now. If she’s asleep, she’s probably mumbling something. Her brain must be working overdrive. I feel bad for her. “Hey, Bones, dinner,” I try. “The fruit, it is the soul. The scale, it takes the toll. The window shakes, it’s panes rattle before the fiercest breeze. The ship carries all from common ports out to distant seas.” Oh jeez, more of this “Head the ship for England” crap. I lightly put my hand on her shoulder. “Bones, wake up.” “I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation, like chasing the wind. In my beginning is my end.” Well that sounds cheerful. I shake her gently. “Hey, wake up. You’re getting all creepy and threatening again. Her eyes twitch under her lids and she shifts slightly. “All is farce. All is folly. Abandon all hope. I see a bad moon a-risin'. It's dangerous to go alone. You have no chance to survive make your time.” Wait a sec. Is she fucking with me? Her voice goes lower and she barks, “You must construct additional pylons! Join the Nintendo Fun Club today!" Yeah, she’s fucking with me. I swat her on the rump. “That’s not funny.” Bones giggles and cracks one eye to look up at me. “Yeah, it was.” She stickers her tongue out at me. “Hey, watch where you point that tongue. You leave it out and I’m gonna take it and use it for whatever I want,” I tease her back. She eeps and her tongue shoots back into her mouth. Ha ha, gotcha. “So were you messing with me this whole time?” I ask. “Umm… I don’t think so. I don’t know how long you were there for, but I woke up when you were telling me I was creepy,” she informs me. I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Whatever. It’s time for dinner. Come down and eat.” Bones rolls to her hooves and follows me downstairs. On the way to the kitchen, we pass Sunny.  “Don’t touch the red bowl. That one’s mine. I claimed it,” he warns us, then heads into the toilet. Huh. You know, now that I think about it, he’s the only one of us without fingers or magic. Man, that’s gotta be tough for him to… Ugh. Godammit, don’t think about that. We find Flim and Flam setting plate after plate of food on the card table. There’s colorful vegetable medleys, steaming stuffed mushrooms, a big bowl of thick oatmeal full of cut-up apples and smelling of cinnamon. It just keeps going. The table is so full, I’m not sure how we’re actually going to eat at it. It’s actually pretty impressive. They even classed it up with a nice white table cloth. Where’d they get a tablecloth? “Take a seat!” announces Flam. “Be our guest!” insists Flim. Bones picks a seat and I take the one on the side of the table to her left. To my left is a setting that already has a red bowl set on the plate. That must be what Sunny was talking about. Across from me there are two settings, I guess for Flim and Flam. “I gotta admit, this is pretty impressive, you guys,” I tell them. Flim responds, “I don’t like to brag-” “You love to brag,” I interrupt. He quirks an eyebrow and smirks as he continues, “but we have a gift for gastric goodness.” “I would have taken the two of you for microwave and diner folk,” says Bones. “Oh come now, it’s not that I-can’t-believe-able. Don’t let the pretty faces fool you,” smiles Flam, “I’ll have you know, we’re the full package. The way I see it, cooking is nothing more than a form of chemistry, which has always been an area of particular interest for me. And my brother here learned to do it for the same reason he learns anything.” “Ha ha! Right you are, Flam!” Flim chuckles. “I assume you are aware of the adage, ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’? Well it works on women as well.” I roll my eyes at that. Of course he’d say that. He takes a deep breath and puts on his showman voice, “So without further ado, let’s devour us some dinner. May I present ‘La Fête Magnifique’!” His horn lights up green and suddenly the entire spread is glowing as well in a warm golden light with little sparkles and bursts of color. Whoa. “How’d you do that?”questions Bones. I don’t really care enough to bother to wait for an answer before reaching for an ear of corn. He put out the invitation, and I’m starving. And that corn is dripping with butter. “Well, ma choufleur, since my specialty is showmanship, it seems a section of that is simulation,” he says in a way like it explains everything. Or anything. Or even makes sense. “Uhh… whah?” I ask around trying to bite my ear of corn. It’s not going real well with my beak. “Simulacrum,” he adds. “In English?” I blink. “He means he can make little illusions,” Bones clarifies, “like that glow.” “Oh.” I’m having a fuck of a time with this damn corn cob. I can’t really get a good start on it without risking making a mess everywhere. Maybe it’s not worth it. “Well why didn’t he just say that?” “Simpleton,” Flam shakes his head. “Silly goose,” Flim smirks. I throw my corn at him. Eh, I couldn’t get into it anyway. He catches it with his teeth. “Ssanks!” “Weren’t we going to wait for Sunny to start?” asks Bones, gesturing toward the bathroom. “Shcrew h’m!” announces Flim definitively. I offer Bones a “what can you do” shrug. “The man has spoken.” With that, we dig in and man, it’s not pretty. I mean, the food looks great. We don’t. We’re like one of those nature shows where a pack of lions just tear into a gazelle. Well, I am half lion, sooo… Sunny’s taking a while in there. Like, a while while. He’s gonna miss all the food. That gets me wondering about the bowl he claimed. So I ask. “Hey. Sho whas de deal wish Sunny’sh rehd bowl?” I may sprayed some rice onto the table when I asked.. “Hmm, why, I’m not certain,” Flam answers. “We didn’t prepare that plate,” Flim agrees. “Let’s find out,” Bones says, even as she’s already nabbed the bowl in her magic. She looks inside and “oh”s before floating something green into her mouth. She chews once, then twice. Then she moans such an “mmmmmmohhyah” that you’d think she just came. “What is it?” “Let us try!” the brothers chime in. They slide out of their seats and over to Bones’ right side. They take some of the green things and pop them in their mouths. “MMMMMM!” they moan in unison. All three of them start just shoveling the whatevers into their maws. “By jove!” “They’re delectable!” “Delightful!” “Divine!” “I dare say, they may be the most delicious dish I’ve ever dined on!” “I know, right?” agrees Bones. Way to keep my in suspense, jerks. “What is it?” I ask. “SUGAR PEAS!” she answers. “DROP EM!” Sunny demands from the doorway. He gallops the short distance to the table, lunging for Bones and the red bowl. Before he reaches her, I spring up and throw myself between them. He tries to get around me or at the very least reach behind me , but I’m not budging. Bones is floating the bowl just out of reach and Flim and Flam are giggling to each other like little girls. “They’re mine! They were claimed!” Sunny protests, his voice a shrill shriek. “So sorry. Chef’s statute is ‘first come, first served’.” Flim informs with fake sympathy. “To put it another way, you snooze, you lose,” Flam grins. “But that’s not faaaaiirrrr!” Sunny whines and slumps to the ground. I relax, but keep my eyes on him. He shuffles around to the other side and takes his seat. I take mine too. He sits there moping like someone just shot his dog, hanging his head and moaning, “Claimed. They were claimed…” Jesus. Get over it. “Aww, baby gonna cwy ‘cause he didn’t get his bottwe,” I coo mockingly. Flam nudges me with his magic. (That feels weird.) “Hey now.” “There’s no need for needling,” Flim chastises. Bones floats the bowl over to Sunny and sets it down on his plate. “Hey,” she gently prods, “Here you go. You don’t think we’d hog it all, do you? The rest are yours.” Sunny looks up and smiles gratefully. “Hey, what about me? I don’t get any?” I ask in indignation. “No. Sugar peas aren’t for buttmunches,” Sunny pouts. I look around at the others for support. They’re all nodding in agreement, even Bones. “You’ll get no sympathy from me,” she shrugs, “...buttmunch.” She snickers and sticks her tongue out at me. Traitor. “Absolutely, we aren’t about to abide a buttmunch,” accuses Flim playfully. Flam knocks his hoof on the table three times. “The defendant stands accused of buttmunchery in the first degree!” he calls out. “How finds the jury?” “Guilty!” Flim answers. “Guilty!” Bones echoes. “Guilty!” Flam calls out. Wait, isn’t he the judge? “Gurdy!” Sunny shouts with a mouth full of peas. Flam knocks again. “Gilda the griffon,” he announces. Hey, I do have a last name.  “We find you guilty of being a first degree buttmunch! Your punishment shall be withholding of peas in perpetuity! Court is adjourned.” ...The hell just happened? I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Fine, I didn’t want any fuggin’ peas anyway.” “Ha ha! Of course you didn’t, friend!” chuckles Flam. Something slaps me on the back hard. I whirl around and see it was a green magic field. Oh man, I’m so pissed at… Wait. No, I’m not. I feel… weird. They’re being dicks to me, but I’m not mad at them. I actually kind of like it? Am I… happy? I always figured I was happy with shit the way it was, but if I’ve learned anything in the past two weeks, it’s that I was seriously fucked up. I think… I think I’m happy for the first time in... I don’t know. Suddenly, the atmosphere in here feels very different. I get that weird sensation of the air changing feel/taste, but I dismiss it. I just sit and listen to the guys eating and chattering about nothing and everything. They’re raving about how good Sunny’s vegetables are. About how, if he could find the right middleman, Flim could sell that kind of high quality organic produce for big money. That Flam could do remote IT work. That they could pull their savings, since they won’t be able to use them much longer anyway, and put a down payment the house from Liz. It all sounds too good. Bones doesn’t seem too into it, but the other three sound like they’ve got everything figured out. They want me to help with the farming. They want me. Is this what it feels like to belong? …To have a family? One that cares about you, I mean? I look around at the four of them. I’m not sure how it happened, but somewhere along the line we went from being a ragtag bunch of random dicks stuck together to something else. These guys are my family. They’ve got it all figured out. We could earn money, have Liz be our go-between, stay secret. This could work. We could have a life here. We could be happy. CRASH! The sound of a door slamming open stops all conversation. Liz is standing in the back door, breathing heavily and soaked from rain. Wait, when did it start raining? I can see the downpour behind her, I just don’t know when it started. She’s dripping wet, and not just from the weather. Her face is a mess, a storm of fury and tears streaming down her cheeks. Sunny jumps up. “Beth! What-” “You have to go!” Liz cries. “Wh-” “Get out of here!” We all just stare at her. No one says anything for a beat. “NOW! Sunny springs up and rushes over to his sister. “Beth, what’s going on? What happened?” “THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Liz screams at him before her anger breaks and she breaks down. Her features twist up in despair, her tears flowing harder. Sunny helps her over to his chair. She sinks into it and sobs. “Why is this happening? I tried so hard. I always did everything right.” She grabs a napkin and blows her nose. She’s still got a big old snot bubble. Gross. “You just had to try to help, Liz. ‘He’s your brother, Liz. You have to help him and his weirdo friends, Liz.’ Uncle John calls and asks if anything out of the ordinary is going on and you just have to say ‘no’. So of course the next day your deadbeat brother shows up. Oh, and he’s turned into a pony and you spend the next two weeks taking care of him and his pony friends and a foul-mouthed bird monster,” she rambles to herself. Hey! I swear to god, if one more person calls me a monster… “Wait, what was that about Uncle John asking about weird stuff?” urges Sunny. He looks over at the rest of us. “You don’t think-” “And then your boyfriend gets suspicious and finds out!” Liz wails. “You’re coming and going at weird times, coming here all the time, so of course he’s going to think you’re cheating on him! And then he follows you here!” “Hold a second,” Flam stops her. “Gorgeous guy?” Flim asks. “Dark hair?” Flam again. “Perhaps 6’3”?” finishes Flim. Ohhhh… That guy from this morning! THAT’S who that was! “You met him!?” Liz gasps in horror. No no no, my dear,” Flam responds quickly. “It was a purely partisan predicament. The peckerwood peeked around the premises, pounded powerfully on the portal, then pushed off,” explains Flam. “He saw all of your things! He thinks I set up another man in a secret love nest!” Liz wails. “So the jerk’s coming here right now?” asks Sunny in alarm. “I’ll make him sorry he made my sister cry!” Huh, who’d have thought he had it in him? “No! He broke up with me, then reported to my office that I was housing a squatter in company property! They fired me! And my boss is on his way here with the police to evict you right now!” OH FUCK “EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!” They all stop and look at me with wide eyes. “Liz, how long do we have?” “Maybe thirty minutes.” “Okay, we can work with that. If we’re fast that should be plenty,” I reassure them. “We need to get rid of as much evidence as we can. There’s no way we’re gonna completely wipe out all traces. There’s still gonna be little bits of fur and that horse smell, but that’ll just leave them guessing. So that just leaves our shit. I want to be out of here in ten minutes, twenty tops. ” I point at Sunny. “First things first. Sunny, start grabbing everything from upstairs. There’s no time to carefully pack, so throw it in the RV. I’m talking fast, fast, fast. Don’t bother with the stairs. Go out the window. I’ll be up to help soon. GO!” I clap my talons and he’s off. “Liz, I know you’re upset right now, but if you pitch in we might be able to salvage this. You and Bones grab everything from down here, minus the kitchen. GO!” I clap my talons again. Bones dashes off. Liz slowly gets to her feet and staggers after. I see Sunny glide past the window with a bag wrapped around both forelegs. I point at the twins. “Flim, Flam. Sorry about this, but the dinner’s gotta go. Take the garbage bags. Everything goes in the trash, plates and all. Same for anything else we have that’s perishable. Bag ‘em and put in the Passat. Any food we can save, plus all the non-food goes in the RV. Chuck the table in the woods. Don’t waste time going too far back. Just make sure it’s not visible from house. When you’re done, clean up in here. It doesn’t need to be spic and span. You don’t need to eat off it. Just give it a good once over so it doesn’t look like someone was just making a mess in here. GO!” I clap my talons one last time. I don’t even wait to see if they’re doing what I order because I’m already on my way upstairs. For the next fifteen minutes, we clear out the house, shoving anything loose into any available box or bag and rush them out to the RV, where we throw them in a pile. Eventually, all that’s left is feathers and fur in the carpets. Nothing much we can do about that or the fact that place smells like a goddamn barn. Oh yeah, and the garden. Shit. Oh well. I finish wiping up the rain we tracked onto the hard floors and at last, we’re all finished. The carpets’ll be wet too, but there’s nothing to be done for it. We’re all gathered in the garage next to the Passat. Everything is out and the place is locked up tight other than the open garage door. I look over my unit, err… my friends with pride. “Alright, good fucking job, people. We may survive this yet.” I address the twins. “Flim and Flam. I know you don’t have any reason to stick with us anymore. You could take all of our shit and ride off into the sunset. But I’m trusting you. There’s an airport a few miles northeast of here. I’ve seen it from the air. I’m sure you can find it. I want you to take the Winnebago and meet us there. What’s-his-face saw your RV and I don’t want to risk you passing him on the road, so go now, and go fast.” They hurry out of the garage into the night. Next I turn to Sunny’s sister. “Liz, you’re done. Sorry we fucked your life up so much, but what’s done is done. Your boyfriend may have seen that someone was living here, but hopefully we’ve done a good enough job covering it up and it’ll be his word against yours. Now get out of here before they get here. Go home or to your mom’s or wherever makes the most sense and play innocent.” Her car is just outside the garage, so after a quick, strained goodbye to her brother, she walks over and drives off as well. That just leaves Bones, Sunny, and myself. “You two are with me,” I bark and gesture at the Passat. “Get in. We have to dump the trash.” I’m driving, obviously, with Bones riding shotgun and Sunny squeezes himself in with the trash bags in the back seat. I ease the car out of the garage, but immediately stop. I have to close the garage door or the whole jig is up, and I don’t have a remote. I dash back into the garage, hit the button on the wall, and dash back out before the door closes, careful to jump over the sensor beam. When I get back behind the wheel, Bones nudges me. “You know, I could have just hit the button from here, right? I clench my eyes and snort through my nose. Fucking doh. Whatever. It’s done. We take off down the driveway and I don’t even bother to spare a look back at the house. It’s the third place we’ve been chased out of in two weeks. This is getting to be a pattern that I hope doesn’t continue. We get to the end of the street and take a left turn. In the rearview mirror, I see a cadillac and a cop car coming from the opposite direction and turn onto the street we just left. Ha ha, holy dick balls, that was close. We drive for a little bit in silence, enjoying our good luck. Wait, what am I saying? Good luck? This was all thanks to my kickawesome leadership. We get into a more built up area with more lights and plenty of people on the road. It may be raining, but until the sun finishes setting, I won’t be comfortable being out in the open like this. I spot a McDonalds and pull in. I stop next to the dumpster out back, roll down the windows and turn around to Sunny. “Fire when ready, man.” Without even getting out of the car, he chucks all of the garbage bags into the dumpster. “Good job, gunner,” I praise him and then we continue on our way. “So, um.” Sunny squeaks in response. “Where are we going?” “We’re meeting Flim and Flam at the airport,” I answer. Doesn’t he listen? “But we can’t fly anywhere like this,” he argues. “The TSA’ll stop us and then the FBI’ll come, and then we’re right into Area 51.” “We’re not. We’re all driving in the RV.” “But then why-” “You’ll see,” I cut him off. “How do you know they’ll be there? They might’a left,” he asks, sounding worried. “I just know it. They’ll be there,” I answer with full confidence. “Okay, cool cool. So we’re driving,” he nods. “Back to the first question, then. Where?” Jesus, always with the questions, this guy. And he had to pick the one I don’t have the answer to. “Uh, yeah, I haven’t figured that part out yet. Any suggestions?” “Don’t look at me,” he shakes his head. I glance quickly over at Bones. She’s been quiet through all of this. “How about you? Got anything in mind, navigator?” Instead of answering the question, Bones asks, “What was that your sister said about your uncle?” “Oh hey, dude, yeah, that’s right!” Sunny exclaims. “It sounded like my Uncle John called her and randomly asked her if anything freaky was going on.” “Yeah, so? What’s the point?” I wonder. “Well I don’t know everybody Beth talks to all the time, but we never really saw or talked to him and his family all that much. It’s weird that he called her out of the blue like that. So I think that maybe, you know, because it was right when we were all turning into…” he trails off. I see where he’s going with this. Suddenly, he squawks right in my ear and shouts, “Oh dude, crap!” “Ow, jesus, man,” I hiss, rubbing my earhole. “I’m trying to drive here! ‘Crap’ what?” “It is! My cousin Andy! John’s son. We have the same birthday!” he answers. If I weren’t driving, I’d facepalm. As it is, I still swerve the car pretty badly. “You just thought of that now!?” “And Liz didn’t think her uncle asking about strangeness was at all suspicious or connect it with our strangeness,” Bones adds. “Your whole family is morons,” I accuse. “HEY!” Sunny is indignant. “What do-” he starts, but he’s cut off by Bones floating her phone into his face. “Call them,” she instructs him simply. He takes the phone in his teeth, but doesn’t do anything with it. After a few seconds he asks, “Uh, can ya dial ‘or ‘e?” Bones takes hold of the phone in her magic again and dials the number he recites. It must have rung a couple of times because it takes a bit before starts talking. “Hi! Uh, Uncle John! It’s Sun- uh, Dave. ….Dave. ….DAVE! Your nephew! ….Yeah, I know. ….Hey, um, Uncle John, you know how a couple weeks ago, you called Beth and asked her if anything weird was going on? ….Oh man, I hope I’m right about this, because if I’m not, you’re gonna think I’m crazy. Oh! But, like, I don’t hope I’m right because then that would suck for Andy and that’d be mean, and that’s just not right. So I’m in the right to hope that I’m not right about being right about- ….Oh. Sorry.” That’s our Sunny. What an idiot. He kind of groans in thought for a few second, probably trying to figure out the most strategic way to ask about this subtly, before he starts stammering. “So… uh… I guess… like… DidAndyturnintoapony? ………Yeah. ….Uh-huh. ….Uh-huh. ….Nuh-uh. ….Yeah, me too. ….Sunny Daze. ….Really? No way! That’s awesome! Tell her I said ‘hey’. ….It was a whole ‘Discord-took-over-the-world-and-cursed-us-for-twenty-five-years-and-it-wore-off-on- our-twenty-fifth-birthday-esque’ kinda thing. ….She’ll know what I meant. ….Oh, okay, bye.” What, he’s done? That was sudden. He sits looking pleased with himself, a big, dumb grin plastered across his face. He doesn’t offer to fill us in. “So?” I ask. “So what?” he wonders in genuine confusion. “So what’s going on!?” “Oh!” he grins. “Dude! My cousin Andy is actually my cousin Amber Waves. I remember she was in my dreamemory. That’s the dream that had my memory in it.” “Focus! What else?” “That’s it,” he shrugs. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?” I demand. Sunny’s face scrunches up and his tongue pokes out. “Um... Well, then he said he had to go do something. I don’t know why, but he sounded really annoyed.” Bones and I glance at each other. He furrows his brow. “What? I found out my cousin’s a pony too. Come on, that’s why I called, wasn’t it?” Bones answers, “You called because you were supposed to ask if we could stay with them.” Oh hey, that’s a good idea. Sunny’s eyes go wide with understanding. “Ohhhh. Well I’m sure it’s cool. They have a farm in Illinois, so I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” A big, spacious, private farm? It’s perfect. Except one thing. “Ponies living on a farm? Isn’t that kinda cliché?” I point out. Neither of them has anything to say to that. Instead, Bones urges, “Sunny, shouldn’t you call back and ask for certain if we can stay with them?” He waves her off. “Nah. Uncle John said he had something to do. Besides, talking to him was awkward.” Meanwhile, I’ve been driving, following signs, and a runway becomes visible on the left side of the road. I hang a left to run parallel to it, then merge right into the airport’s main entranceway. We pass under the sign welcoming us to Burlington International Airport. It looks kind of small. How international could it be? We slowly cruise down the road between the main terminal on the right and the long parking garage on the left, looking for any sign of Flim and Flam. “See? I told you. They ditched us,” moans Sunny. “They’ll be here,” Bones and I say at the same time. Huh, weird. Near the entrance to the garage there’s a sign that says, “All Vehicles over 7’0” Proceed To The Park And Shuttle Lot” with a sign pointing further down the road. That sound promising. We come to the end of the road and on our right is another parking lot with mostly cars, but also some trucks and RVs. And there, sitting justing inside the entrance like a glorious golden god, is Flim and Flam’s old-ass Winnebago. “See? And you doubted,” I needle Sunny. We pull into the lot up alongside the RV, next to the door, putting it between us and the street. When the door opens, we quickly hop out of the car and into the cover of the RV. “I take it the mission was a success?” smirks Flam, and cocks his head to one side. Sunny leaps over and hugs the both of them fiercely. “You guys! I knew you wouldn’t leave us!” “That was incredibly impressive, I must say,” Flim admits. “Right you are, brother mine,” Flam agrees. “Who’d have thunk Gilda’s considerable surliness could be harnessed for good?” They share a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, yuk it up while you can, chucklefucks. It’s not gonna be so funny when you’re driving us halfway across the country,” I smirk. Both of their jaws drop. “Come again?” they sputter. “We know our next port of call,” Bones answers. “Long story short, turns out Sunny’s cousin’s a pony too,” I fill in. “And you didn’t deign to divulge this data because…” Flim trails off. “I just found out. His, err, her name is Amber now!” Sunny responds in his usual clueless manner. I shrug that off. “Yeah, so anyway, they have a farm in Illinois. The plan is the five of us are taking the RV there. We want to avoid attention, so we’ll only drive a few hours at night, staying at the speed lim-,” “Wait, wait, wait. ‘We’?” interrupts Flim. “You presume that we’re taking you anywhere?” asks Flim. “We have no obligation to band together with you three vagrants.” Sunny, Bones, and I share a look and burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re so convincing,” says Bones sarcastically. “Yeah, you’re so tough,” laughs Sunny. “Come on, you guys love us.” “Just admit it,” I accuse, “You dicks couldn’t take not seeing my beautiful fucking face every day.” They mutter and grumble under their breath in defeat. “Alright, you all stay right here,” I instruct them and hold up a finger. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” “Where are you going?” Sunny asks. “I gotta get rid of the other car,” I answer. “What? You’re leaving behind LB’s car?” he gasps and looks between Bones and me. “Well we’re not driving two vehicles to Illinois, and the car is too small and leaves us too visible.” “You’re okay with this?” Sunny asks Bones. “What must be done must be done,” she assures him cryptically. “How precisely do you plan to dispose of an entire automobile? Bury it?” asks Flam. “Submerge it in a swamp?” suggests Flim. “Drive it off a cliff?” Flam offers. “She’s going to hide in in plain sight,” Bones answers. “Uh, yeah. That’s right,” I say haltingly. Well, Bones IS the smart one. “If we do something crazy with the car, someone’ll find it, check the VIN number and connect it to us,” I explain. “Even if we just leave it somewhere, after a while, someone’s gonna get suspicious and have it towed, and it gets connected to us. So we leave it in plain sight, exactly where it’s supposed to be. That’s why we’re at the airport. I’m going to put the car in long term parking. No one’ll think twice about it being here for a long time.” “Ha!” Sunny guffaws. “I get it! In “plain sight”! ‘Cause it’s in sight of planes!” Uh, that wasn’t really the point, but whatever makes the kid happy. “I say,” starts Flam, “you plotted this whole scheme out in the thirty seconds before you started barking out orders at the house?” I shrug. “Well, I came up with the airport part while we were cleaning up, but pretty much, yeah. All you doubters may not think so, but behind all this hotness, I can be pretty fucking smart in a clutch.” “So if one were so inclined, they might say you came up with it… ‘on the fly’?” says Flam with the most irritating grin I’ve ever seen. “And you were… ‘winging it’?” adds Flim, looking equally shit-eating. That’s it. I can’t take any more goddamn puns. Without a word, I step out and get back into the Passat for its last voyage. I saw some signs on the way in that said the long term parking was in the parking garage, so I circle back around to the airport’s entrance, and back to the garage. There’s an attendant on staff, but luckily, the way these things work, you only have to deal with them when you’re exiting. And since I don’t plan on ever picking the car up, it’s not a problem. I take my ticket and drive up to the next to top floor. I park in a quiet spot in the northwest corner. Now to get back. If I had to go back down on foot and out the entrance, someone would see me for sure. It’s about twilight and it’s still raining, but it’s an airport, so it’s pretty well lit up. Luckily, I’m not limited to taking the stairs. I look out the side of the garage. Below me is a rental car lot, then the road, then the lot where the others are. I can even see the Winnebago from here. With a short running start and a flap, I leap up to the top of the wall of the garage, through the opening, and push off with my back paws. It’s not a far flight, but I still work my wings hard to make it as quick as I can, careful to stay high enough to keep out of the lights on the ground. It only takes a few seconds and I’m right over the RV, about forty feet up. I veer upwards, going into a loop, pulling out of it when I’m facing downward. I dive straight down until I’m maybe 10 feet up, then flair my wings and flap to brake, and I land on the roof of the RV with a light thud. Perfect ten point landing, yo. I hear some cries of alarm from inside. I peek over the edge and knock on a window, but they have the curtains drawn so I can’t see in. “Hey, you jerks miss me?” I call out. The door opens and I literally drop in. “From now on, could you conceivably not cause us a coronary?” Flim chides me. I give him a friendly punch on the shoulder as I pass. “No promises.” It’s the best I can do. Everything may have gone to shit in the last hour. We may be out on our asses. But for some reason I feel good. Things mostly worked out and we’ve got a new goal in sight. Everyone was a mess, but I rallied them, got them organized, and got them working together on my plan. I don’t know what, but something deep down inside me feels right. “SO! Let’s get the tub going, huh?” Flim is still rubbing his shoulder where I hit him, but then trots over and slides into the drivers seat. He starts the ignition with his magic and we head out. It’s weird watching a pony sit in the seat and drive, not actually touching the wheel or the pedals. “Not to nitpick, but do we know our navigational itinerary? Some notes would be nice,” he calls back to us. Oh yeah. Just “Illinois” is kind of a vague travel plan. “Hey Bones, you’re good at Google, right?” I ask. She pulls out her phone and starts punching buttons. “Hai. My google-fu is strong,” she says in a bad 70s kung-fu movie accent without even looking up. “I already have Maps open.” I look from her to the window, pull the curtain aside and look out. Watching the buildings go by as we make our way out of town, it feels familiar, starting another crazy trip with only the most basic of plans or goals. I turn back to Bones. “Well then, Navigator! Lay in the course to our next adventure!” “As you command, Captain.” /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Interlude - Excerpts 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Excerpts From On Griffon History And Culture by Profs. Pot Shard and Ionic Column Chapter 2: Overview of the Clan System Griffons are a heavily clan based society, governed by a council called the Interclan Senate, consisting of representatives from the various noble clans. Unlike we ponies, they place, not harmony, but honor and glory above all things. Their ideal is to do everything to further the prestige of their clan. Glory is mostly achieved through activities such as athletic competition (races, hammer toss, jousting, etc), monster hunting (Grifinland is a dangerous place), and manual labor. There is some degree of political maneuvering, but the sort of duplicity normally associated with politics is considered extremely dishonorable. Make no mistake, Griffons are not without music, art, and literature, but they tend more towards anthems and pride banners rather than Sapphire Shores pop songs and PiLasso’s blue period. The clan stems from the griffons’ biology. Griffon females will lay two or three clutches of eggs in their life, spaced about five to ten years apart. Each clutch will consist of (usually) four to six eggs, with the females hatching first, and the males hatching up to a month later. It may seem like this would result in a hugely expanding population, but overall number of births are somewhat offset but a fairly high mortality rate. (Again, Grifinland is a dangerous place.) This is an accepted fact, so the loss of a child or two is not usually seen as a huge tragedy. This may seem callous to ponies, who view every life as sacred, but one must remember cultural differences. After all, even earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi have their differences. These large families along with the earlier, and somewhat higher occurrence of female hatchings (while not as skewed as ponies, the gender ratio in griffons is about 60-70% female) result in the matriarchal clan system we know. Though clutches are laid at the same time, the order of hatching is considered analogous to a birth order, and thus, a line of succession. The first hatched of a matriarch is next in line to lead, and should anything happen to her, the second hatched, and so on down the line. “But how is a clan formed?”, you may ask. If a griffon performs a particularly noteworthy feat, they may earn a Title. This is an honorific placed after their name that they can use for life to signify their greatness. If an individual proves themself truly outstanding, they may be awarded by the Senate the honor of splitting off and starting their own clan using a Title as a name. To start, let’s look at a hypothetical example, and we’ll get into the more precise dynamics later in the chapter. Say there is a griffon hen named Frigg Sharpbeak. Frigg slays a huge hydra in a particularly glorious battle and is awarded a Title: “Hydrabane”. This would make her full name, Frigg Sharpbeak, Hydrabane. Now let’s go bigger and say that in slaying the hydra, she saved an entire town. In addition to the title, she may also be allowed to form her own new clan, separate from the Sharpbeaks. Now, she would be Frigg Hydrabane, First of Her Name, founder of the Hydrabane Clan. Chapter 4: Origin Myths Griffon legends say that in the beginning, the world was created by the Garuda, a giant flaming bird that lives in the heavens. They believe the Garuda descended from the heavens and formed the land, the sea, and all of the animals. When she was done, the Garuda, dirty and tired from her hard work, shook herself off and took flight to return to the sky. And when she did, some of her down and feathers fell from her and drifted down to the earth. When they landed, these feathers became the first griffons. The Garuda watched the griffons and loved them. They were her favorite of all her creations. But the Garuda became sad. She saw the griffons falling in love and having children and she knew she could not do the same, because for all of the things she could create, she could not create another Garuda. She wanted desperately to have a child of her own, so she tried to lay an egg. And she succeeded. But the egg was lifeless and would not hatch. The Garuda placed the egg in the sky and shed a million million tears. This egg and these tears became the moon and stars. When the griffons saw the Garuda cry, they were dismayed by their creators despair.  They cried to her, “Oh great Garuda! Do not be sad! You are not alone, for you created US! Even if you have no chick, WE are your children!” They held a great hunt and a feast to bolster her spirit. The Garuda was heartened and tried again to lay an egg and have a child of her own. This time, when she laid it, her egg was full of fire and life. This fiery egg she carries with her on her journey across the sky each day. This was the origin of the sun. The griffon's feast became a celebration in honor of the new egg. (This practice has evolved over time into their traditional Sun Hunt, which is held annually on the longest day of the year, roughly corresponding with our Summer Sun Celebration.) One day, the sun will hatch and a chick will emerge, and until then, the Garuda waits patiently. Or so the griffons believe. We ponies, of course, know this all to be false. Even the youngest foal knows that the sun and moon are magical constructs controlled by the princess. But Chapter 8: Introduction to the Imperial Dynasties Long before the current nation of Grifinland, with its meritocratic council-based system was formed, the earliest form of a unified Griffon government was an empire. It was ruled over for centuries by a series of dynasties like the Egret Dynasty and the Crane Dynasty. The very first empress was, of course, Promallardtheus, known as Duck I, first of her name, and originator of the Duck Dynasty. Her rule was cobbled together through military conquest of the disparate griffon clans neighboring her own, which led to larger forces, which led to more and further conquests. Her rule was solidified, however, by forcing blood oaths from the clan leaders, promising loyalty or else punishment no less than the extermination of their entire clan. The Duck Dynasty was short, consisting of only Duck I and her daughter, Yffad, or Duck II, but it was the crucial period that formed griffon territory into essentially the same shape it holds to this day. The last dynasty was the Loon Dynasty. The Loons caused a collapse of the empire through mismanagement due to insanity brought on through generations of inbreeding. They even believed themselves too grand for the capital city of Aeriethans and had a new self-named city built in their honor to serve as a new capital. The final empress was Spero, or Loon VII, who was said to have watched and sang as fire spread and the city of Loon burned. Rumor had it that she may have even been the one to set the fire in order to gain the favor of the Garuda. But, of course, that remains rumor and hearsay. The truth of the matter remains one of history's mysteries. Regardless of what really happened, the capital was returned to Aerithans, where it remains to this day. (Though, the name was changed to Aerie Peak during the subsequent revolution. The citizens changed the name back several hundred years later to honor their heritage). But more importantly, as mentioned, the Griffons decided they were unhappy with their leadership and began a revolution. The remaining Loons were arrested and executed and the Empire with them. But of course, the longest and most prominent Dynasty was the Goose Dynasty. Many of the most storied events and customs that remain in griffon culture to this day hail from the years of the ancient Geese. For example, this period holds the origins of the griffon's annual sporting festival, the Owlympic Games. But unfortunately, the most important events involve the Geese's protracted war. For years, the ancient Geese were at war with the neighboring pegasus country of Pegsia. Perhaps the the most famous story from that time is the Battle of Stormopylae, in which Lord Lionidas and his 300 Sparrowtans defended for three days and nights a pass known as the Trot Gates against ten thousand soldiers of the Pegsian army. We will get into a more in depth history later in the chapter. But after the tale of the 300 Sparrowtans, perhaps most well known is the Battle of Marethon. This was a turning point in the war. The Pegsians invaded Geese at the border towns of Marethon and Thrushwood with an overwhelming force. The Geese scrambled to assemble a force to counter the Pegsians, prevent them from reaching Thrushwood, and push them back to Marethon. But their main force was much further north and their numbers were few. The Pegsian army was great and the Geese could not hope to face this superior calvary head on. Luckily, for reasons still unclear, much of the Pegsian vanguard temporarily left the camp heading west. The Geese general, Miltalon, took advantage of this. He ordered a general attack against the Pegsians. He reinforced his flanks, luring the Pegsians' best fighters into his center. The inward wheeling flanks enveloped the Pegsians, routing them. The Pegsian army broke in panic back towards Marethon, and large numbers were slaughtered. Miltalon parleyed this successful defense into an offensive victory. With the Pegsian forces in ruin, he took his army and marched on Marethon, claiming it for the Empire, where it still remains part of Grifinland to this day. Upon claiming the city, Miltalon sent his fastest flier, Pheasantides, to act as messenger to deliver the news to Emperess Goose IV in Aeriethans. Pheasantides flew the full 262 miles at a breakneck speed nonstop to deliver the news. She informed the Empress and promptly collapsed. Upon her recovery, Pheasantides was granted the title of Swiftwing, the first of her name. Miltalon, for turning a sure defeat into a resounding victory, was granted the title of Bloodtalon. These were two of the earliest Griffon clans. To this day, the Bloodtalon and Swiftwing clans are among the oldest, most honored, and most powerful clans in Grifinland. (For more on the griffon clan system, see Chapter 2: Overview of the Clan System [page 42] and Chapter 16: History of the Clan System [page 415].) Also note, as a further honor for Swiftwing, the race known as the Marethon is named for > Chatper Tewlve: Everyone dies > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 2 1/2 – Party Thyme Chapter 12 – Everyone Dies (In Which Everyone Dies) “On the road agaaain!” “Shut up.” “Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway! “Oh my god shut up.” “We're the best of friends! “Shutupshutupshutup.” “Insisting that the world-” “SUNNY! IDIOT! DAZE!” The classic “use the full name” trick used by mothers everywhere works. Sunny stops singing and looks at me questioningly me. “What?” “Shut up.” “Both of you, shut up!” Flam grumbles sleepily. “Some of us are trying to get our beauty sleep, so would you kindly mind shutting your yaps.” Really it’s just him and Lazy Bones snoozing in the back of the RV, and Bones wouldn’t wake up for an atomic bomb, but point taken. Sunny and I apologize a the same time. “Oops, sorry.” “Sorry.” I’m in the passenger seat up front with Flim, who’s driving. Sunny is chilling out just behind me, being his usual annoying self. We set out from the airport about two hours ago, heading for Sunny’s cousin’s farm in southern Illinois. Bones plotted us a trip there that’s going to take us about three days, driving seven hours for each leg in the middle of night. Flim and Flam think the route’s kind of weird, but Bones insisted. Our first leg takes us from where we were in South Burlington, Vermont west,  on lesser freeways to outside some small town in western New York. Then tomorrow night, we’re going from there to outside Dayton, OH. And the last leg will bring us to the Sunny’s family’s farm in southern Illinois. I’m told it’s not the way people would usually go, and the stops are in weird places, but what the hell do I know? Other than those three years in high school, I’ve lived in the city my whole life. We continue driving in silence except for the sound of the engine and Bones’ occasional mumbling. We just got out from around Albany, and now out in the country in the middle of the night, there’s no one else on the road. Perfect. The quiet, the dark, and solitude. We’re going to stay nice and secret this time. We get a whole fifteen minutes of quiet this time before he starts up again. “There's a voice that keeps on calling me, Down the road, that's where I'll always be. Every stop I make, I make a new friend, Can't stay for long, just turn around and I'm gone again!” I pinch the bridge of my… beak and sigh. Goddamnit, Sunny. “Confound it, will out cut out that racket!” Flam shouts. Suddenly, the whole RV jerked. I looked up and all I saw was rushing water coming to greet us. What the hell? How did we wind up at Niagra Falls and how did we drive off? There's nothing anyone can do as we smash into the rocks at the bottom of the falls. Everyone dies. ☄~=-@-=~☆~=-@-=~★~=-@-=~☆~=-@-=~☾ All I see is endless white. Slowly it resolves into shapes and colors. Bones is here. So are Flim, Flam, and Sunny. We're in a room. And... we're at a party? What the hell? Why am I wearing a sombrero? Guess I may as well make the best of it and see if there's any candy in that piñata. ☄~=-@-=~☆~=-@-=~★~=-@-=~☆~=-@-=~☾ I wake up with a start. Oh wow. What a weird dream. I turn on the light next to my bed and turn to my wife, Suzanne Pleshette. "Honey, wake up. You won't believe the craziest dream I just had. I was in Vermont. I think there was something about an airport. But I was an innkeeper in this crazy little town. Then I turned into a griffon and then we all died." Patrick Duffy steps out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and holding a snowglobe with a house and an RV inside. "Wow, that sounds weird," he says. "But you know what's weirder?" And then he unzips his face and he's Discord underneath. Huh, that IS weird. "No, not that," says Discord. "What's REALLY weird is that it's been a full year since this story started and the lazy person in charge isn't even close to done yet. Anyway... HAPPY ANNIVERSARY! > Ch 12: On the Road Again > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Good Griff! Part 2 – The Road to Nowhere Chapter 12 – On the Road Again (In Which McCarthy, Kerouac, and Nelson Would Be Proud)         “On the road agaaain!”         “Shut up.”         “Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway!         “Oh my god shut up.”         “We're the best of friends!         “Shutupshutupshutup.”         “Insisting that the world-”         “SUNNY! IDIOT! DAZE!”         The classic “use the full name” trick used by mothers everywhere works. Sunny stops singing and looks at me questioningly. “What?”         “Shut up.”         “Both of you, shut up!” Flam grumbles sleepily. “Some of us more civilized folks are attempting to get our beauty sleep, so would you kindly mind shutting your yaps.”         Really it’s just him and Lazy Bones snoozing in the back of the RV, and Bones wouldn’t wake up for an atomic bomb, but message received.         Sunny and I apologize at the same time. “Oops, sorry.” “Sorry.”         I’m in the passenger seat up front with Flim, who’s driving. Sunny is chilling out just behind me, being his usual annoying self. We set out from the airport about two hours ago, heading for Sunny’s cousin’s farm in southern Illinois. Bones plotted us a trip there that’s going to take us about three days, driving seven hours for each leg in the middle of night. Flim and Flam think the route’s kind of weird, but Bones insisted. She said this was the way we had to go to avoid toll booths.         Our first leg takes us from where we were in South Burlington, Vermont west,  on lesser freeways to outside some small town in western New York. Then tomorrow night, we’re going from there to outside Dayton, OH. And the last leg will bring us to the Sunny’s family’s farm in southern Illinois. I’m told it’s not the way people would usually go, and the stops are in weird places, but what the hell do I know? Other than those three years in high school, I’ve lived in the city my whole life.         We continue driving in silence except for the sound of the engine and Bones’ occasional mumbling. We just got out from around Albany, and now out in the country in the middle of the night, there’s no one else on the road. It’s perfect. Just the quiet, the dark, and the solitude. We’re going to stay nice and secret this time.         We get a whole fifteen minutes of quiet this time before he starts up again.         “There's a voice that keeps on calling me,         Down the road, that's where I'll always be.         Every stop I make, I make a new friend,         Can't stay for long, just turn around and I'm gone again!”         I pinch the bridge of my… beak and sigh. Goddamnit, Sunny.         “Confound it, will you cease that racket!” Flam shouts.         “Sorry!” Sunny apologizes again. “I’ll be quiet.”         “Good!” Flam grumps and rolls over. He sighs, sounding both pleased and tired.         He gets his wish for about five seconds before the show tunes start back up again and all hell breaks loose. “Needles and pins, needles and pins, sew me a sail to catch me the wind!” Bones sings dreamily.         “Arrgh!” Flam groans.         “Sew me a sail, strong as the gale! Carpenter, bring out your hammers and nails!” Bones keeps going.         “Hey, Bones, pro’lly not the best time for that,” I advise her, but she keeps singing over me. I see her face and her eyes are closed. Oh. She’s doing the thing again.         “Hammer and nails, hammer and nails! Build me a boat to go chasing the whales.” she continues.         “That’s it!” Flam cries. “Pull over!”         “Chasing the whales, sailing the blue. Find me a captain and sign me a crew.”         “What? Why?” Flim asks, dumbfounded.         “Captain and crew, captain and crew, take me, oh take me to anywhere new!”         “So that I don’t careen out of control and crash when I murder the lot of you!” Flam shouts.         “Bang! Bang! Maxwell’s silver hammer! Bang! Bang!” Bones sings, then jerks and opens her eyes, as if she was so loud she woke herself up. She notices everyone looking in her direction. “Oh. Hey everypony.” she greets, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Oh my god, she didn’t just say that, did she? She must sense everyone all riled up because she asks, “‘s goin’ on? ‘d’I miss something?” Her weird accent is more noticeable right after she’s woken up and not completely with it yet. It’s almost British or, like, fancy rich American, but not quite.         Flam, left eye twitching and nostrils flaring, moves over to the door. Bones nods at him and sniffs. “Do you have a hammer I c’n borrow?” Flam’s only response is a growl and a death glare.         By this time, Flim has pulled the RV into a conveniently timed rest stop and as soon as we’ve come to a stop, Flam storms out, slamming the door so hard it flies back open.         Shit.         “Um, should he be going out in the open like that?” Sunny wonders.         “Ehh, it’s nighttime now. No one’s nocturnal enough to notice.” Flim reassures him.         “What about them?” Sun asks, pointing a hoof out the still open door. Across the parking lot are some gas pumps where an SUV is parked. It’s filled with college age kids, with one more standing by the pump, all gawking with open mouths as Flam charges across the lot toward the convenience store.         SHIT!         I start out the door to go after him, but Flim closes it in my face with his magic. “Wait!” he cries, wiggling out of his seat belt. “I’m coming as well!”         “Time is kind of a factor here!” I snap.         “Fran is MY brother.” He argues as he rushes over to me. There’s a burst of green light from his horn that washes over us and he reopens the door. I hear a gasp from either Sunny or Bones, but I don’t bother to figure out who because I’m already out the door.         “What was that?” I ask as we rush across the lot.         “Just an amateurish apparition,” he tells me, distracted.         “A what?”         “A primitive prestidigitation.” Does this fucker ever speak English? We’re passing by the kids in the SUV, who are still watching in confusion. Seeing the two of us is just making it worse, but we have to get Flam back. So much for staying secret. Again.         “Hey dude!” the one by the pump calls at us. He doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong with us. “‘D’joo see that horse run by?”         Flim doesn’t even look at them as he shouts, “IGNORE ME!”         The ones in the car echo the first. “Was that thing yours?” “Man, that was weird.” “What was it?” Look at the size of that guy’s dog.” “Dog? Are you nuts? That’s a puma! That guy’s got a frickin’ puma!” “What are you talking about? It’s a big dog!”         “Did they just call me a dog?” I ask Flim.         “Holy shit!” I hear behind us. “That goat just talked!”         The automatic doors at the front of the store slide open for us we step in. There’s Flam, front hooves up on the counter, yelling at the cashier, who’s backed up against the wall as far as he can go. “By Greyskull, this is an outrage, I say! AN OUTRAGE! What manner of entrepreneur are you!? I say, I am a paying customer! I demand you sell me alcohol!”         The terrified cashier just whimpers. He sees us walk and shoots Flim a pleading look. Then he gets a good look at me. His eyes go wide, his face goes pale and he faints. Sigh. You know, I’m starting to get kinda offended here.         Flam turns to see what the matter is and when he sees us, he scowls. “A lion and a lion tamer? Is that the best you could muster, brother? Go away. I’m busy,” He snorts and scrambles over the counter to get at the good booze.         “Lion tamer?” I wonder aloud. “What the hell did you do?” I ask Flim as we approach the counter.         He rounds on me and stamps a hoof in frustration. His nostrils flare threateningly. “I have informed you! An inelegant illusion, you imbecile! A half-assed hallucination, you harebrain!”         “English, motherfucker! Do you speak it!?” I yell, spraying spittle in his face. I don’t need to take this shit. It’s bad enough he can’t just tell me, but he’s gotta insult me too? I can feel my back claws shoot out reflexively and scratch the linoleum while I grind my molars.         “Oh my, yes,” Flam coos after finally claiming a bottle of Jack Daniels and taking a long pull. He sighs. “Well, what a pair you are. The both of you simmer down, would you kindly?” He takes another swig. “Gilda, my brother has been most forthcoming, I’m sure, but you must recall we can’t help our particular pleonastic peculiarities any more than you can your feathers.”         At my blank look, he clarifies. “The big words, my dear. And Flim is afflicted by alliteration as well. You’ll have to forgive us our verbosity.”         Flim nods in agreement. Flam takes another drink and nuzzles the bottle. “Flim, you must recall not everyone is as blessed with brains and beauty as ourselves. Some folks are-”         “Slow?” Flim offers.         “Simple.”         “Stupid?”         “HEY!” I roar. It comes out half word and half actual lion roar.         “Very nice roar. Quite authentic. Fits the look,” Flam praises, tapping a hoof on the floor in applause. “You can drop it though, brother.”         Flim closes his eyes and another wave of green washes over the two of us, but nothing seems to happen.         “Alright, I am this close to turning around, stealing your ride, and driving off without you assholes if one of you doesn’t explain what the fuck just happened in the past five minutes!” I threaten.         “My brother, bothered and bereft of beauty rest, bellowed until blue, then bailed from the bus to bargain for beverage. I built a basic baffle on us both so we could bring him back,” Flim explains annoyed.         I… actually think I got most of that. Just one thing though… “Baffle?”         Flam, cradling and smiling goofily at his bottle, doesn’t even look up. “He cast an illusion on you, my girl. Quick thinking, brother, but I don’t reckon a lion is going to keep a low profile.”         “We do what we must, brother,” responds Flim.         I looked like a lion? That’s kinda badass. “But wait. One of those guys out there said I was a goat, and one said a dog. What’s up with that?” I wonder.         Flam shoots his brother a questioning eyebrow and they seem to share some kind of look of understanding. “Ah! I see! It was an incomplete illusion. The first step in casting an illusion is to remove the actual image, then the second step is to replace it with what you want the mark to see. But you stopped at step one, you clever dog, you! The mark’s eyes see that something is there, but their beautiful, stupid brain doesn’t actually register anything, and subconsciously fills in something. I couldn’t have thought of better myself, Flim!”         “High praise, Flam,” Flim smiles. “But it was an act of necessity. You know I haven’t quite yet drummed up dependable deceptions.”         “Ah, but necessity is the mother of invention! I should know! It’s only too bad you can’t market such a technique.”         I let out a shrill whistle using my beak and tongue to get their attention. They both turn to me in alarm. “Shut! The fuck up! Oh my god, you guys, you’re killing me. So you,” I point at Flam, “threw a hissy fit and ran out into the open to get booze? And you,” I point at Flim, “put some kinda disguise on us?”         “Yes,” they answer to together.         I throw up my hands in exasperation. “Then just fucking say that! Jesus! I swear to god, trying to understand you two is like living with, um, I don’t know, a robot Shakespeare.” I’m still not good with metaphors. “How do you even know these steps of magic illusion theory or whatever anyway?” They both shrug. “Half-remembered in a dream,” Flim says. “Illusions and showmanship were his speciality back in the old world.” Flam adds. “And contraptionology was his,” Flim continues. “We saw a memory of right before-” “Discord. Got it,” I cut them off. “God, you two are an annoying pain in my ass.”         “Oh? And what happened to all of that love you’ve lavished upon us lately?” Flim asks with an accusing tilt of his head.         “That was before you idiots suddenly ran out in public!” I remind them.         Flim turns his accusation to Flam. “Right. That was really rather rash, brother.”         “Relax, brother!” Flam barks back between swigs of his whiskey. “You used your jedi mind trick. No one saw who you really were.”         “Yeah, but they saw YOU!” I squawk. “And even if they didn’t see US us, or however that worked, they still saw something weird. What part of ‘low profile’ do you not fucking get!?”         “I needed to clear my head,” is his only answer.         “By getting hammered? Great plan, genius.”         “You wouldn’t understand. Leave it be,” he hisses.         “Is it…?” Flim asks with concern.         I spread my arms wide and throw my head back. “Ohhhhh! Right! Because the big, dumb griffon is too stupid to get what smart ponies talk about!         “It’s not-” Flim starts.         But I cut him off, using a growly imitation of his voice. “‘Nooo! That big idiot Gilda who’s only good for her retard strength can’t understand our big words! We’re the genius brothers! We’re soooo smart!” I start to pace back and forth in front of the counter. The brothers follow me with their eyes, looking unamused. “Who cares that Gilda is the one organizing this whole goatfuck and keeping us from getting in trouble? Let’s just throw all of that back in her face by going out of our way to be seen and then insulting her on top of it. All for some booze so we can get-”         “Whiskey dick!” Flam blurts.         What. My train of thought doesn’t really derail as much as launch itself off a bridge into a ravine and explode. “...I… uh… huh?”         Flam sets his bottle down and I can see the blush on the inside of his ears. “Please understand, Gilda,” he pleads, “it isn’t personal. You can’t comprehend what it’s like. You’re the only one in our group who’s never been male. You’ve never had one of…” He hesitates, then gestures vaguely to his crotch. “These.”         “A penis,” Flim fills in.         “Brother!” Flam gasps in humiliation.         “A phalus.”         “Brotherrrrr.”         “Family jewels.”         “BROTHER!”         “I know what a dick is!” I bark to stop the madness. I’m just about at my limit with these two and it shows when I instinctively let out a lion-like growl.         They don’t seem threatened. “Know it?” Flam asks.         “Ha!” Flim laughs.         “Unless you’ve had one, you don’t know dick!”         “Ugh. What does this have to do with anything?” I ask in disgust.         “Everything!” they shout in unison. Flam continues, “This… thing… It has a mind of its own. No matter what I do, I can’t control it.” He takes another swig.         Flim nods. “And Fran’s only had one for a scant couple of weeks,” He explains solemnly. So solemnly, he even controls his weird speech. “I’ve been male my whole life. Heck, I’ve thought with my dick most of my life, and even I’M having trouble controlling the damn thing.”         “Even Fred!” Flam cries.         “Even me!” Flim echoes.         Uck. Do I really need to hear this? I’m completely skeeved out.         “It’s rut, we think,” Flim explains.         I don’t know what that is. “Rut?”         “Rut!” Flim repeats.         They must see my confusion because Flam sets his booze down. “Do you remember when your pet dog went into heat?”         “I never had a dog,” I shrug.         “Cat?”         “I am a cat.”         The brothers slap a hoof to their faces in unison and share a look of frustration. Flim picks up the explanation, “For the love of Louise. It’s part of many mammal’s reproductive cycle. In females, it’s called heat, and in males it’s called rut.”         I tilt my head. “So… it’s like your guy period?”         I must have nailed it, because they’re struck silent.         Flam recovers first. “You… NO! It’s just characterized by increased sexual activity.”         “Horses and ponies even go into, uh, rut?”         “We don’t know!” they both answer. Flim continues, “Probably. What else could it be? It’s… it just doesn’t stop. Nothing I do provides any relief.” He sounds so desperate. “All I can think about is women. Or rather, mares. And wanting to… do things to them. All the time. And there’s no relief. I… I can’t stop thinking about Miss Lazy.”         ...He what?         Flim pipes up. “I’ve had a lifetime of learning to live with my libido, and even I’m utterly overwhelmed. Flam hasn’t. You must understand, she’s the only mare of our species we’ve happened across.” Flam is still going. “I… keep fantasizing about her. Her mane. Her flank. I picture us engaging in-” I narrow my eyes and growl dangerously.         “We know, we know!” Flam protests. “We wouldn’t! But…”         Flim finishes for him, “Can you fathom how frustrating it is for us to be forced fugitives with faculties focused only on fornication, and the only females aren’t feasible because they’re only fond of each other and we’re fingerless and unfit to even find relief in fondling ourselves?”         “Aww, fuck, ewww!” I shudder.         “How’s about that for dramatic irony?” Flam says ruefully.         “It’s a bona fide Greek tragedy!” Flim agrees.         “Sophocles couldn’t have written better.”         Ugh. I feel filthy. And exposed. And I want to get back to the RV. And I want to forget I heard any of this. But I can’t leave without these two walking gross-outs, so now I gotta get them moving. Time for the ol-         Flam interrupts my thoughts. Actually, he’s been talking the whole time. “-particularly insistent tonight. I tried to take my mind off it by cooking, but that got ruined. Then I attempted to sleep through it, but no one will let me sleep. No relief. I was desperate and I’ve heard tell that getting drunk hinders the ability to-”         “OKAY!” I cut him off with a clap of my talons. As I was saying, it’s time for the old Gilda charm. “Look, I’m sorry for you guys. I really am.” I put a talon on Flam’s… shoulder – is that the right word? – in what I hope is a comforting gesture. “It sucks that you’re in such a shitty situation. And I’m sorry that we’re the only two chicks and we’re both a couple of raging lesbians.” I’m not sorry at all. “But we’re all in a shitty situation. And that sucks. But we’re in it together. All we got is each other. We have to stick together. That means no running off.”         Flim nods approvingly and Flam at least has the decency to looks ashamed. He looks down at the floor. “I know. I wasn’t thinking. It’s just, my mind has always been my most powerful asset and now it’s being overtaken by my-”         “Ach!” I quickly cut him off before he can start talking about his junk again.. “Yeah, I know. Look, man, we’ll figure something out for you. Fuck, we’ll put a pillow in the microwave and tape a picture of Rainbow Dash to it if we have to. But we can’t help you if you don’t let us know and then just run off half-cocked.” I regret the phrase as soon as I said it         Flim holds up a hoof. “‘Half’ isn’t the problem. It’s more like-”         “Ba bup bup bup!” I sputter to keep him from finishing that sentence. “Point is the deck’s stacked against us. The entire goddamn world is out to get us, and we can’t let it. We gotta do everything we can to keep each other safe, like staying hidden. So please – and you know I’m serious here when I say please – in the future, don’t… uhhh...”         My eyes drift up to a spot behind in the counter near the ceiling. “FUCK, is that camera!?”         “Of course,” Flim says matter-of-factly.         “What convenience store doesn’t have cameras?” Flam asks like I’m stupid.         “You just now noticed it?” Flim follows up.         “YES!” I shriek. “It’s seen and heard EVERYTHING! What are we gonna do about it?” On top of that, the cashier is starting to move and mumble like he’s waking up.         Flam smirks like the cocky ass he is. “Don’t fret your pretty head. I had a plan for this.” His horn glows and the camera, plus another near the back of the store I didn’t know was there glow too. There’s a muted “Pff” noise and both camera fall to pieces.                  After I’m done being surprised, I quirk an eyebrow at Flam. “Lemme guess. ‘half-remembered in a dream’.” He half nods. “Okay, yeah, nice one. Now let’s get the fuck out of here!” I urge.         We trot back to the RV and luckily the college kids are gone and the parking lot is deserted. When we get back, Sunny is super relieved. It looks like the kid’s been climbing the walls in worry. Bones is back asleep. Of course. And she’s… clutching a hammer? Oookay.         Flim quickly gets back into the driver's seat and gets us moving again.         I sit down in the back. Flam, still towing his bottle in his magic, plunks down next to me. He turns to me. “You know, I might just be getting drunk.” He must be because he’s slipping more and more into normal people talk. “But you’re not the asshole everyone thinks you are. You’re a pretty good friend and pretty good at this motivational thing.”         I chuckle. “I know, it’s weird right?”         “Mm,” he agrees as he takes another swig.         “So how about sharing with your ‘good friend’,” I ask, pointing at the bottle.         “Don’t push your luck.” »~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»~»         It’s been a couple hours since we got back on the road again when I get a sign. It’s the middle of the night and the RV is quiet. Bones is sleeping. Of course. Flam is too, finally. Sunny’s doing… I don’t care... Sunny things. Flim is concentrating on driving, and I’m slouched over, riding shotgun. Car seats are weird and uncomfortable to sit on when you have four legs. We’re passing by a small town out in the middle of nowhere. Small enough that it doesn’t even have an exit and remote enough that there’s no lights along the highway. But still, there’s enough moon to see it. It stands tall, right by the edge of the highway, on the edge of town, as these things often are. It’s probably not even the first one we’ve passed. But it’s the first one I take notice of and process, and within a couple of seconds, the idea forms. An idea that destroys the peace we finally reached when I sit up and squawk, “Hey! Dude, dude, pull over!”         The RV jerks with Flim’s surprise, and this, combined with my shouting, wakes up the rest and others. Flim looks to me with worry, but pulls over to the side of the road, and the other three make their way up behind us, muttering with worry as well.         “Wha’s the matter now?” Flam slurs, still sleepy, but obviously annoyed about being disturbed again.         “Okay. Guys. I have a great idea,” I grin. I’m real proud of this one. I’m a good friend.         Flam scowls and shakes his head like he’s holding in a “Seriously? I woke up for this?” Flim snorts. “Really,” he deadpans. “Must be rather remarkable to require roughly running us off the road.”          I keep right on grinning. “Hey, you two should be thanking me.”         “And why, perchance, is that?” Flam grumbles.         “You know that problem you told me about earlier?” I ask sweetly.         Flim’s face drops. Flam quickly shoots a nervous glance at Bones, then frantically makes “cut it out” gestures at me, slashing his hoof across his neck. Bones doesn’t notice, seems to decide she doesn’t care about any of this, and shuffles back to bed.         “Oo! What are we talking about?” Sunny asks eagerly. “You guys know I’m great at solving problems!”         “NOTHING!” the brothers shout at the same time.         “Come ooooonnnnn. You can tell me!”         My grin widens almost evilly. “You know we’re not going to get rid of him.”         “Ut-shay. Up-ay. About-ay. At-thay,” Flim says with a fake grin for Sunny’s benefit.         “What does that have to do with anything?” Flam hisses through clenched teeth.         I toss my head to the side. “Oh, you know. It’s just, we were driving along and… Well, you guys have cash you can’t really get out to spend, right?”         “Yes?” they answer.         “And you can knock out cameras and alarms, right?”         “Yeeeesss…” they answer.         “And you’re desperate to get some relief and be able to jac-”         “YES!” they answer quickly.         “Well.” I gesture out the window with a sideways jab of my head. They finally look and see it. A sign: “ADULT MART”. It stands high above the shop it advertises, set just down a short incline from the highway.         The brothers both blush so heavily I can sort of see it through the fur on their faces. Sunny just giggles uncontrollably.         “Hey, you need some help and you can get it in there,” I offer. “You can’t go shopping during the day, but you can sneak on now, get what you need, and pay.”         They quietly consult each other real quick and then nod. “No one needs to know about this,” Flam commands seriously.         “Just quick in and out,” Flam quietly adds.         “HA! That’s what she said!” Sunny blurts out. Then he laughs and I laugh and the brothers bury their faces in their hooves.         But then they actually get moving. They dig up some cash from their bags, sneak out of the RV, and stealthily make their way toward the store. They check the perimeter and then go around the other side where we can’t see them anymore.         “So…” Sunny hums.         “Yeah.”         He smirks. “The Flim Flam brothers are going to shop for sex toys.”         I bark out a laugh. “Our lives are so fucked up.” We both share a long laugh.         The brothers come back about fifteen minutes later, plastic bags clenched in their teeth, their movement halfway between sneaking and trotting like a proud dog with a new bone. Ha! Bone. When they’re back in the RV, they hide the bags in the back somewhere and with the most serious face I’ve ever seen on anyone ever, Flam commands, “Speak of this to no one.”         My shit-eating grin returns. “Sure. On one condition.”         “And that is?”         “How about sharing with your good friend?” /_‾_‾_‾TO BE CONTINUED‾_‾_‾_〉 > Interlude - From the Newspapers of the World 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the Newspapers of the World: 2- The Equestria Daily, May 15, 1005 Amid Controversy, Brothers Are Entrepreneurs To The Core The front gate of the Flimflam brothers’ new state-of-art Canterlot facility By Hot Tip Canterlot - A ribbon cutting ceremony yesterday attended by Princess Celestia marked the official start of operations for the Flim Flam Firm’s latest cider distillery. Located on Canterlot’s south side, this is the company’s first facility in central Equestria producing the popular Flim Flam’s Finest Cider. A true success story, the Flimflam brothers have become celebrities in the world of business in the last few years for their meteoric rise. A mere five years ago, the brothers were drifting from town to town, scrabbling for bits to pay off creditors after two failed business attempts. But then they hit upon the million-bit idea that would make them a household name almost overnight. Flam Flimflam, the technical wunderkind of the pair, designed and built the prototype for an automated cider press and still which Flim Flimflam, the strategist, filed a patent for. Flim Flam Firm was founded shortly after. The brother’s first facility was little more than a single machine operating out of a rented barn in Whinnyapplis. This was not unusual, as cider has traditionally been created in small batches by local outfits, usually families. Never before had such a wide-spread centralized cider production been attempted, and such plentiful access to the ever in-demand cider in the always thirsty Whinnyapplis made the brothers rich. This quickly allowed them to expand operations to a new state-of-the-art facility that allowed production so efficient that supply outpaced demand and they began to export cider to other cities. Cider has always been a luxury commodity across Equestria, so to suddenly be so accessible in such surplus allowed the brothers to build new facilities in Whinnypeg, Marewaukee, and Salt St. Mareie. They then expanded outside the Whinnysconsin region with facilities in Foalmaha and Gallopston. Now, the Canterlot plant is up and running, with another planned for Palomino Springs, Califoalnia. While the general public mainly recognizes Flim Flam Firm for being the creators of everypony’s favorite drink, the company is noteworthy in the business world for very different reasons. Such large-scale machine-based production, which Flim and Flam call “an assembly line”, is revolutionary, allowing unprecedented levels of output with minimal input of pony labor. It has sparked a race among other industrial companies, sending them scrambling to “modernize” their own operations. But success hasn't come without a cost. Concerns have been raised about the impact Flim Flam’s factories are having on Equestria. Reports have been coming in about increased numbers of health complaints in weather ponies in areas around distilleries compared to the general population. One preliminary reports a 400% increase in cases of respiratory illness and suggests that the smoke these distilleries are pumping into the sky may be harmful and breathing it in large amounts such as a weather pony might is the cause. There is no word yet on any ill effects from the liquid waste being emptied into rivers. In addition to physical problems, there are many ponies who claim unsavory dealings with the brothers and their company. While there are few details about their lives before their rise to prominence, since then reports of shady business practices, running local cider makers out of business, exploiting workers in poor conditions have run rampant. Most notably, the Element of Honesty herself claims Flim and Flam were con artists who attempted to steal her family farm. Such controversy came to a head yesterday when the ribbon cutting ceremony to celebrate the opening of the new Canterlot facility was disrupted by protesters. The group, led by the Element of Honesty herself, came armed with signs and chants, and in the case of the Element, rope. Princess Celestia was scheduled to cut the ribbon at 10 am, but the protesters formed a line in front of the entrance and threatened anypony who came near. The Royal Guard was called in to disperse the crowd, though there were no arrests. The ribbon was finally cut just after 1 pm. Captain Aegis of the Royal Guard went on record with the following: “The Guard of course has no problem with peaceful protests as it’s the the right of all Equestrians. But these ponies just got a little rowdy and we had to step in. The fact is the Princess was there, and we’re in the habit of taking every precaution where the Princess is involved. Miss Apple assured us they meant no harm and they wouldn’t cause any more trouble. I know her personally and trust her, so we let all offending parties off with a warning.” No representative for the protesters could be reached. > Chapter Placeholder > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey kids! Look who's not dead (not for lack of trying)! Yeah, I know, who knew? Anyway, this is just a placeholder chapter to go in for the real chapter 13, which is going up soon™. Like, actually soon though. Like, in the next few days. No more than a week. I PROMISE (for what that's worth). I've been working on it for the last few weeks and I was looking to have it up for the anniversary (today) like I was supposed to. It's been real arduous because my main computer (the desktop) died abut six months ago, and then my laptop died at the start of March. So I've basically been without a computer for the last couple months with no money to fix either. Which means I've been writing the new chapter on my phone. Yeah. It sucks. But yeah, I was set to be finished anyway, but then I got struck down with the plague for the better part of the last week. I'm just starting to get over it, so I should be able to finish the next one real soon™. I just wanted to get this in here A) to let anyone who inexplicably hasn't given up on me that it's coming soon and that I'm not dead and haven't forsaken Gilda and crew; and B) for posterity, because these last few have been once a year ON the year and I don't want that bemirched when I look back and see it was late a couple days. Is it cheating? Of course. But when have I ever cared about that? So when the new one comes out, I'll change this one to the new chapter, and post another chapter so you'll get a notice. Yep. That's about it. See you soon.........™! (Advisory: Always take everything Otto Von Snootingham says with a grain of salt or twelve. He is a known letter-downer.)