I do not understand who decided New York would be the meet up place. I arrived, all ready to kick some form of evil villain ass, but then I cannot find anypony! The place is so damn big that you get lost if you take one step in the wrong direction. One minute, I'm following Ginger Star, a.k.a. Gertrude Starling, and suddenly I have no idea where I am or where the rest of the ponies are.
They told us here. I came here. I followed some obscure OC’s to get here, but yet I don't think I'll get to see anypony else before it's all over and we're back to normal. I am Carrot Top, and this is how I missed the mane event.
***
I woke up in the garden outside of my parent’s house. It was not a nice garden; weeds covered every square inch of the area and not a single plant other than that grew. However, as my eyes peered out at the area, it was now populated by green stalks sticking out of the ground and into the air, swaying in a slight breeze. They were carrots.
"Why the hell are there carrots in my yard?!" I yelled.
Thank God I had no neighbors. At least, not at the time, for they had all gone to their jobs or were off shopping, buying their needed living supplies. Which then reminded me: I needed to get ready for work.
I got up to run to the door inside but stopped. Was I on... four legs? Was I a quadruped? I looked down at my body and found that to be the case. My fur was a light yellow, which confused me; I did not think there was a single kind of pony on Earth that had yellow fur.
"Okay..." I began, my emotions a very hearty mix of shock, surprise, and slight trauma. "I am a pony... What kind of pony?"
I then looked at my legs, trying to figure out how they worked. I was able to move quite like my arms as a human, finding them to be incredibly flexible. I was actually able to see the bottom of my hoof, something I knew no horse or pony could do.
The next thing I did was try to get a sense of my height. I could tell that I was definitely shorter than when I was a human, seeing as how my house now looked two times taller. I eventually got a rough estimate of maybe two-and-a-half feet tall, or short, I guess I could say.
When I finished this, a strand of orange hair fell across my face. I ignored it at first, clumsily brushing it away. Then my mind did a double take and I reached up with a hoof to try and get it to fall back down. When I managed to, I placed it with my coat color and came to a conclusion.
"No way in hell is this possible," I said in disbelief. "I am a... My Little Pony. What the frig."
I knew exactly who I was, but I wanted to know otherwise, so I decided to go inside to find a mirror. I took my first step forward, forgetting that I was a pony for a moment, and fell face first into the dirt.
“Okay… gotta get used to four legs and hooves.”
I moved my right front leg. Back right. Front left. Back left. I slowly inched to the door of my home, wishing now more than ever that I had two legs to just stand on and walk normally.
I eventually reached the door and found myself facing the task of turning the handle to open it. I jumped up and grabbed the knob with my front two hooves. I pushed with the right left and tried my hardest to pull with the left, and with enough effort I got the handle to turn all the way. I put pressure against the door and it opened up into the hallway.
I went straight to the bathroom, which luckily had a handle and not a knob. I praised Celestia, cursing myself internally as I did. I pulled a cool little stunt where I hopped up on the toilet seat and then straight to the counter of the bathroom-thing. I flipped on the lights from there, being unable to reach them from the ground.
When the lights came on, I turned to the mirror and confirmed my suspicion on what pony I was.
"Oh crap! I am Carrot Top! Or would it be Golden Harvest? Whatever. I am a frigging earth pony farmer who plants carrots! I... dammit this sucks so much. I am a pony! Not only that, but a female! How the hell am I gonna go to the bathroom?!"
Yeah, silly first question, but that was what occurred to me on top of the others. I mean, it is a fair point, seeing as how I have been male my whole life and not a pony. I then asked myself: "How am I going to reach the toilet?"
Yeah, that was just me asking the most prevalent questions. That second one was pointless, I realized, because I did just hop on top of the toilet. I guess they appeared first because I was in a bathroom. I actually thought about the answers and became very... concerned and puzzled because of what I thought about.
“Alright, I am so confused!”
Then I remembered something on the news. It was something that I passed off as just a joke being pulled by the press, I hadn’t even tried to look for it after-wards. Lauren Faust had become Princess Celestia, and that people were turning into ponies all across the country.
I ran to the computer in my room, which was open, luckily, and moved the mouse, which caused the screen to flicker to life. It was easy to use a hoof to click a mouse and scroll, but it was typing that caused problems. I decided that using some kind of stylus from something would be a smart choice.
It took me awhile to find my dad’s Ipad stylus from the Ipad he used to own before he figured electronics were not for him and gave it to me. Holding it in my mouth, I typed in the search terms: ponies in real life.
The first result was Fox News, which I clicked on and began to read:
As of Saturday, people all over America have been turning into ponies. Not just any kind of pony, but the ponies from the animated kid’s show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. The first development of the case was when the original creator of this show turned into the show’s princess: Celestia. She has urged the public not to panic and remain calm. She say that anyone who may change to come to New York to help her.
Another confirmed transformation is of Tara Strong, one of the voice actors from the show. She has been turned into yet another of the show’s princesses: Luna. This event began what is now a worldwide phenomenon known as the “Pony Plague.” Ponies have been appearing across the land, slowly making their way to New York.
Read More
New York. I had never been, but I had heard how big it was and how easy it was to get lost in such a place. What is in New York that is so important? I wondered. Why are we going to there? I had no idea what to do. I didn’t know if I should go, if things would resolve themselves or what, or if everyone’s, or everypony’s, cooperation was necessary.
The first thing I did was go to bed. I felt tired beyond belief after all that had happened. I managed to jump onto my bed after a few tries, but I got it. I wrapped myself up in my blankets and closed my eyes. My last thoughts were:
I probably should’ve called in sick.
2. There’s A Voice in My Head. Oh, and My Parents Come Home
There was a scream. My parents were home. No doubt. Yep. I was definitely screwed in some insane fashion in which I was violently kicked from the house without any chance to explain myself.
“Honey, there’s a thing!”
Crap. It was my mom. She was always calm and collected around things she deemed normal, and a pony sleeping in her son’s bed probably classified as a ‘This is as far from normal as it’s going to get until I die.’ There was a loud thumping as my dad ran to my room in his, not to be rude or anything, hefty bulk.
“What the hell?!” he yelled, looking at me in complete confusion.
Man, how I wanted to say something just to see how much of a laugh I could get from their reaction. Speaking, however, would for sure get me removed from the household faster than any bullet train or fighter jet. Hell, maybe faster than light.
So, anyways, my dad apparently somehow acquired a beating stick in the split second I blinked or looked away or something, or maybe I had just suddenly gotten ADD as a pony and got distracted without realizing it. Then he charged, and I jumped away in fear. I was used to my dad being angry, except that was usually when he was drunk, but now he was angry sober, and I was terrified. I chose that as my moment to speak.
“Dad!” I yelled, surprised at the feminine qualities that I had failed to notice when I first spoke due to initial shock.
He stopped his strikes and looked at me.
“What in the name of,”
“Yep. Surprise. I got turned into a pony while I slept.”
Damn, I was trying so hard to be casual about it. Not working.
“There are also now carrots in the garden, so you won’t have to buy any for a while, and…”
I had no idea how to continue. Why was I not just breaking down and crying? I mean, sure, I had a big problem with pride and all that, but I still… would… buck it. Never mind. I am too damn prideful to cry in front of others.
“How are you my son?” my dad asked, looking terribly unsure about whether to whack me to Wagnesday (because this is following all 100% correct guidelines. Don’t worry! Nothing against the rules here… hehehe) or let me live. “You are a… a pony. Not my son. Not my son!”
“Well, you’re right on one part. I am not your son; I am your daughter-slash-son! I am- oh, who the hell am I kidding, I can’t take this levity!”
That was when I left go of my pride for a moment and began to cry, letting all of the (incredibly manly) tears flow from my (not manly) eyes.
“I just woke up as a frigging pony! I don’t know why or what I have to do, but I am just a pony! I fell asleep and woke up in the garden as a pony! I am Carrot Top! I am a farmer earth pony!”
It was then that it spoke, a kind voice in my head that sounded so familiar.
Do not despair. I understand your pain. Do not worry. Soon you will acclimate to it. Now, I will let you get to the task at hoof.
There was no noise but my sobs for a while, and my liquid pride fell down my pony cheeks in streams. The scene became violently uncomfortable when my father began to console me. Man, would I rather die than have that awkwardness again.
“It’s okay…” he said, trying to help out any way that he could.
“No, it’s not! Even though I know that there are others who have become like me, I know that I will never meet them or get to see them! What are the chances of meeting someone who has met the same fate as I on the road?”
“On the road?” my mother, who I had actually forgotten was even there due to her silence, asked.
“I’m going to New York, where a rallying cry has been sent by the first to become ponies like me. They are calling us to them so we can fix the curse upon us.”
This reminds me. Due to the sudden ADD I have gained from Carrot Top, I forgot to talk about my brony side. I was a closet brony (surprise, surprise) and no one knew that I was a brony except for my brony friends on the internet. I was a fanfiction writer, not really that good and all, but still had a few fans across various fanfiction sites. What I was good at was music. I wrote original tracks and compositions for many different characters and different plot points from the show. I still only had a few fans there, but they praised me more than over on fanfictions. I guess telling my parents I was a brony was an appropriate decision right then, and I did as I thought.
“Uh… guys?” I asked. They responded with a “Yes?”, so I continued. “I haven’t told you this, but…”
“You’re a brony,” my dad said. “Believe me, the t-shirts in the drawers are enough proof.”
Aw! He killed the surprise! I was so looking forward to the look on his face!
The voice in my head’s interjection caused me to mentally jump.
What the hell was that for?!
No reason! Just really wanted to see what his reaction would be!
Who are you? You sound like someone I know.
I’m you! Well, not yet, but that’s a close enough explanation!
You’re Carrot Top?
Yep. It’s just my luck to get my mind bonded to a stallion’s though. Couldn’t get a mare like Fluttershy, just a stallion.
Whatever. I wish I wasn’t turned into a mare! This is a whole new physical body all over!
I returned my attention to reality, where my parents were standing over me.
“So…” I said.
“You’re going to New York?” my mother asked.
“Yeah. I don’t know what else to do. I either go to where I can meet others like me or stay here and wait God knows how long for it to end.”
“We respect that, honey,” mother said, looking me in the eye. “We’ll let you go. We’ll pay for the bus fare till the Midwest.”
I nodded, feeling more crying come on. They weren’t rejecting me like I was some monster, and they were treating me with kindness.
That’s so sweet!
Shut the buck up Carrot Top. I don’t give a damn as long as I get to New York.
Language, mister!
Would it kill you to learn my name?
What is it then?
Jackson Rain.
(Like it’s important, put it as the last line. Don’t worry, it doesn’t matter.)
A/N: For future reference, Carrot Top's dialogue while in Jackson's head is in normal italics, while Jackson's mind dialogue is in italics and underlined.
3. Bus Rides Take A Looooonnnnngggg Time. Thank God for the Internet
Sometimes you’re just so unsure of yourself. You don’t know what to do, and you feel that you are useless to everyone around you. That’s how I felt now. I was a pony, unsure of what to do with my life, and had to get used to a new anatomy. It was also at this time that I realized I needed clothes. I’m sure that no one other than some old grandma would care if I wasn’t wearing any, but I still felt incredibly exposed without it.
“Mom, where are my old clothes?”
“They’re in the attic. Why?”
“I’m gonna want some clothes. I just don’t feel right without them.”
She nodded and began to walk to the little drop-down wood thing that I do not know the name of. She pulled it down and yelled to my dad to get a ladder. It took five or so minutes for the shiny object to arrive.
As my mom climbed up to get the boxes with my old garments, I examined how small I was (finally). The ladder seemed like the biggest thing now, and I performed a guess on my size. Two and a half-ish feet?
Mom returned with the first box, and I attempted to open it. Alas, my mighty carrot farming hooves were not the legendary heroes that would be gifted with great riches (Wait… what?). Before she went back up the ladder, my mom opened the box for me with a smile and a hint of laughter on her face.
ATTACK THE BOX! My conscious screamed as I dove in head- or would it be muzzle? - first. I rooted through my newly accessed loot and began to pull out random clothes.
Old shirt from… first grade maybe? Hmm… I’m gonna put this is my ‘I might be able to use this’ pile.
After ordering all of the clothes from the first box, I found that there were still three more to go through.
Damn it.
Language, Jackson!
Can it, carrot farmer. I’m pretty stressed right now. You’re not the one who’s gonna hoof it across the country! Aw, frigging ponyisms!
Get used to it. I’ve got some influence on your mind now, so don’t be afraid if you start recounting my memories.
I will be! They’re not mine, for Celestia’s sake! THE PONYISMS!
There was a small snicker from Carrot Top as I mentally screamed. I looked at the piles of clothes I had amassed, and started to pick from them.
Really old anime t-shirt! When did I even get this? Small hoodie equals score! Uh… I guess that’s it actually. This hoodie covers me mostly. I have a tail.
That tail's gonna be your friend, man.
“Mom, I’ve got my stuff!” I called to wherever my mom was.
“You can pack up the stuff again! I’ll put the boxes back later!” she yelled back.
I began the mind-numbing process that was repacking the box. What made it harder was obviously the fact that I was a pony.
I wish I wasn’t an earth pony.
Not my fault. I can’t choose my race.
I’d be forever happy if I could.
Well, you can't. When are we gonna go?
Whenever I feel like it. Soon, most likely to take a guess.
I ran back to my room when the box was finished being packed. The door was wide open (Praise Celestia goes the ponyisms part of my brain). A suitcase was lying open on the floor, and I silently thanked Celestia… again. I put it in and now decided to acquire sustenance for my journey. After raiding the kitchen of most of the fruits and vegetables, just barely keeping myself away from the meat (“NO MORE BACON!” I had cried in vegetarian despair), I put it in my suitcase (Not without taking a celery stalk, for I was terribly hungry).
“Are you ready?”
It was my dad, who was standing at the doorway of my room as I munched on the celery.
“Nearly. I’m going to take the Ipad and my laptop to keep up on the news.”
He nodded, and I felt my throat tighten.
This may be the last time I see my family.
That’s really negative. Try to stray away from that.
I grabbed the electronics from the desk in my room and put it on top of all the stuff in the suitcase, realizing that I should get the hoodie from the bottom, feeling totally clueless on why I had put it there in the first place. Must’ve been Carrot Top’s ADD. I put it on, and it fit my lean farmer form perfectly.
“Now I’m ready,” I said.
My dad nodded and walked off, going to get my mother. They both came back and suddenly did something I had not done since I was around ten. I hugged them in my pony form and began to cry manly tears again. There was a pat on the back from my dad (I said I would rather DIE!).
“Let’s go,” my mom said with tearful eyes.
Nodding, I followed them to the car. Knowing full well that I would have a problem with car doors, my mom opened it for me. My father started the car as I climbed into the back seat. I pulled the seatbelt with my teeth down, and after a minute of failed attempts to get it connected, I got it. I then tightened it and was now sitting as close as I could to legal.
We pulled out of the driveway and started our drive to the bus station. When we arrived, my mom handed me a couple hundred dollars. I unbuckled myself and slid over to the car door. I managed to push it open and I stepped into public view. At first, no one paid me any attention, but then as I proceeded forward, eyes saw me and stayed seeing me. I moved into the ticket line feeling uncomfortable as the eyes trained on me.
“Mommy, a pony!”
A little girl ran up and I had no time to run at all as she hugged me in the way that only little kids can. I struggled to draw breath as the hug prolonged much past what I felt necessary.
“Kid, my lungs can only do so much!” I yelled.
“It talks! Wow!”
The kid’s mother came to save the day and grabbed the little kid.
“Thanks,” I said.
The mother ignored the thanks, instead talking to her child. “Don’t go and hug beasts like that, honey.”
Beast? Was that all I was?
Don’t worry, Jackson, it’s just one person’s opinion.
I waited in the line until it was my turn.
“One ticket to Topeka, please,” I told the woman working at the desk.
“That’ll be one-hundred fifteen dollars, ma’am,” she replied.
I put the two hundreds down and was gifted with my ticket and my change. I walked over and sat on a bench near the stop, waiting for the bus to arrive. It was then I noticed two people watching me with eyes as wide as dish plates.
“Great. Bronies,” I muttered.
The ADD (I'm actually now thinking it may be both ADD and ADHD, but I am going to call it ADD for now) struck again, and suddenly they were standing right next to me.
“Can we get a picture?” one dressed in a Fluttershy t-shirt asked.
I shook my head. I did not want to have a picture of myself just circulating around the internet for anypony to see.
“Aw…” the other said. “Then can you tell us who you were?”
“I’d love too,” I said in a convincing fashion. “But, alas, my bus is here.”
I left the two and boarded the Greyhound gratefully. I went to the middle and found an empty pair of seats. I jumped on it and pulled my suitcase up next to me (Don’t worry; I was dragging it around with my earth pony strength). I unzipped it and pulled out my laptop. I turned it on and waited for the password thing to come up. I put in my moderately sized password and watched as it slowly went to the desktop.
I found that it had already connected to the wi-fi that was on the bus, making my job a lot easier. I opened Google Chrome and went to Facebook. I logged in and went to my wall. I began typing my message.
It’s Jackson. I am on the road going to New York. If you are wondering why, it is because I have been turned into a pony. I don’t know why or how, but I am Carrot Top. Help would be greatly appreciated.
I minimized the window and turned on the laptop’s camera. I took a picture of myself and attached that picture to my status update. I posted it and closed my laptop. It wasn’t long before there was the sound of a notification.
The first response was from a person named Gertrude Starling, who responded with:
Where are you? I’ve been changed, too. I’m in Kansas, but I’m out of money.
It was a small reply, but enough to let me know that maybe, hopefully, there was somepony else out there that I might get to see that was like me.
I’m getting to Kansas, Gertrude. Right now I’m just leaving from California. It will be awhile until I get there. Can you handle it?
I posted this and began to look for others who had become ponies. I first typed in Fluttershy, because she is so frigging cute, and it came up with a page decorated with pictures of Fluttershy, obviously. There was a picture of Fluttershy with Pinkie, and I nearly laughed. They had pages, which meant that all of the others had to have one, too.
After finding most of the Mane 6 over Facebook, I began to search for background characters. It had barely seemed like any time when I looked up and saw a sign that read: WELCOME TO KANSAS.
Good. I hope that Gertrude isn’t just a liar or if she isn’t that she’s in Topeka. I guess I should’ve asked.
Yeah, stupid.
Shut up. You don’t have to deal with this boredom. You’ve probably got my entire mind to explore.
I went back to my page and posted another reply to Gertrude.
Are you in Topeka?
It was responded to quite quickly with a “yes.” I felt elated that I might meet somepony else who had changed. After that, I fell asleep.
4. Carrot Dreamin’ and Meeting Gertrude
I woke up to the scent of earth and clay. I rubbed my heavy eyes and noticed a change.
“Hallelujah! My hands are back!” I yelled triumphantly. “I’m normal again! It was a dream!”
“I wish that were true.”
I started and turned to see Carrot Top looking me in the eyes, smiling. I scowled as a revelation came over me.
“It’s just a dream, isn’t it?”
“Sorry, but yes.”
So I was still a pony. That just killed the mood. Just slit its throat and left it in a garbage compactor.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“We’re in my carrot farm. Before you ask; yes, we are in Equestria. However, this is just something I formed from my mind when you fell asleep so we could speak. I forgot the first time you slept, so I was waiting for you to get tired.”
“What is going on with the ponies? Can you tell me now?”
“Sadly, it is Discord. He is behind what is happening to the world. Ponies minds are merging with humans because Discord has crossed into your dimension, and he is bringing us with him."
“What?! I don’t want to be you!” said I, more fearful of being one with Carrot Top than Discord in our world.
“Hey, neither do I, but I have no choice. I’m trying to slow the process down, but it’s difficult because your mind is just sitting wide open. Try to close it, please. I don’t want to be you for as long as I can.”
“Whatever. Any other important things you’d like to tell me?”
“Yeah: would it kill you to eat some food? I still need to eat, and what you eat helps me stay alive. So, go into that suitcase and eat!”
The dream just melted away and I found myself holding my laptop in the seat of the bus (Oh, and a pillow in my mouth. Just following the common occurrences. Where did I get a pillow anyways?). I checked out of the window and saw we were nearing the bus station.
The bus parked, and I quickly packed up my laptop and zipped up my suitcase. I darted from the bus quickly and began to run to a bench. The first thing I did was unzip my suitcase and pull out an apple. It was bruised slightly, but that was the least concern of my growling stomach. My new equine teeth chomped straight through the entire fruit, and in a few bites there was nothing left.
It wasn’t until I had finished two more apples that I saw the brown pony standing in the middle of the station, looking around as though trying to find somepony. I zipped my suitcase back up and finished the rest of my fourth apple. I reached her with my pack.
“Hey!” I said as I reached her. “You must be Gertrude.”
“Huh?” she asked, turning to me and taking a quick second to examine me. “Oh, you must be Jackson; or should I call you Carrot Top?”
“Either is fine,” I replied. “But no one has actually called me Jackson in a while. So, what pony are you?”
“I turned into my OC, Ginger Star,” she said. “You can call me Gertrude or Ginger, doesn’t really matter to me.”
“So… do you have a voice in your head?” I asked, feeling that the question was quite out of placing but still completely relevant.
“No… do you?”
“Yeah, Carrot Top is in my head and she’s talking to me and stuff.”
“Sounds cool, I guess.”
“What should we do? It’s really late, and I don’t think that sitting around a bus station will help us. You want to find a motel or something?”
“Do you have the money?”
“I don’t know. We’ve got to find the cheapest place around, because I’ve only got around eighty dollars.”
“I think we should just sleep somewhere for free.”
“Like where?”
“Some alley; you don’t have the money to sustain us both for Celestia knows how long.”
She was right. Eighty dollars was not going to get us anywhere, let alone New York.
“Is there an ATM anywhere?” I asked Gertrude.
“There’s one on the side of the station,” she replied, pointing her hoof to the right side of the building.
“I’m gonna go get some money. I’m not sure how much I have, but I’m gonna get what I have.”
Gertrude nodded, and I walked over to the ATM and put in all of my info and did all of the button-pressing crap. I returned with a suitcase slightly bulging.
“Jeez, how much money do you have?” Gertrude asked in shock, an adequate reaction.
“I hoarded. It was an experiment at first, then sort of turned into a hobby."
Whistling, I began to lead Gertrude to the nearest motel, where we got a room for the night. We walked in and I found there to be only one bed.
“Great,” I said. “One bed.”
“We are both mares,” Gertrude said. “It doesn’t matter that much now.”
“I guess you’re right. But it’ll still be awkward; I’m not used to sleeping with anypony of the opposite gender.”
Gertrude didn’t respond, just dropped her flank onto the bed and lay down. She was quickly asleep.
I’d like to know what her journey was like.
That’s great Carrot Top. I’ll ask in the morning, but for now I am tired!
I jumped on the bed and found myself looking at Gertrude. I felt uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed. We were both mares, sure, but I was still a guy inside.
Just sleep you scaredy-pony! I can’t sleep if you don’t!
I grumbled and closed my eyes. I fell asleep quickly… into another dream with Carrot Top.
“How’s it going?” Carrot Top asked my now human self.
“Fine, I guess,” I replied. “I am a mare with a guy’s mind sleeping next to a mare with a normal, not mixed-up mind!”
“You’re such a wuss. I really expected more from you, especially after taking a look through your memory. I mean, you were a pretty tough guy. I really think you should man up.”
“OK. How is the whole brain-combining thing going along?”
“Better, since you decided to try to close your mind some, but it’s still slipping faster than I can control.”
“I think it’s inevitable no matter what.”
“You think?”
I nodded in answer to her rhetorical question; go me. Suddenly, the dream began to swirl, and Carrot Top began to speak again.
“Time is running out. Get to New York, because I want to see somepony get destroyed by the Elements of Harmony."
The dream blended up until it was gray, then black… and when I woke up, I had to go to the bathroom.
5. Something Bad Happens. There May or May Not Be a Soapy Bus Involved.
After dealing with the issue of the bathroom, with some weird help from Gertrude (Don’t ask), we left the motel to continue the journey. We went to the Greyhound station and I bought us two tickets to Chicago, for there were no trips to New York at the time. We boarded the bus around ten and left five minutes after.
It wasn’t until we had crossed the state line that we heard the noise coming from behind us. I leaned into the aisle to see who it was and if I should tell them to turn it down and found myself facing a unicorn, who was nodding his head in time with a song’s beat. The unicorn had white fur, and his mane was green; basically, a typical odd OC.
I tapped his leg, and he nearly jumped to the ceiling of the bus. The headphones came off almost immediately when he saw that I was another pony.
“Whoa, Carrot Top?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Would you turn the music down?”
“You don’t like the wubs?”
“I’m fine with it, but I’m trying to focus.”
“Focus on what? Is there something important you’re doing?”
“I’m not actually doing anything, but just to not be mean, I told you I was. I didn’t think you’d ask what.”
“OK. My name is Fine Line or John Green if I was human. I turned into my OC two days ago and started my journey yesterday. Who were you before you changed?”
“I was Jackson Rain before I became Carrot Top.”
“Wait… you’re a guy in a mare’s body?! That’s hysterical!”
“It’s not that funny,” Gertrude piped up from where she sat next to me.
“Who’s that?” Fine Line asked, still trying to contain his giggles.
Gertrude got as high as she could on the bus seat, which was enough for her head to be visible. “Hi! I’m Ginger, or Gertrude as a human. And really, it’s not that funny that he used to be a guy. I had to help him learn to go to the bathroom this morning. It sucked.”
This comment only made Fine Line laugh harder as he struggled to stop. Gertrude rolled her eyes (I swear I heard the word “men” come from her mouth) and I felt the heat rise to my face as I blushed. I turned back to the front and got out my laptop. I checked my Facebook and found that a few more people had responded to my first post.
Most were from old friends who asked what kind of prank I was trying to play and where I had found the pony. Sighing, I decided to take another picture with my laptop. I told Fine Line and Gertrude to get in the frame. I took the picture and put it on my wall with another post that read:
The previous post was not a joke. This is me, Gertrude, and Fine Line on our way to New York on this fine Thorsday. I have gone through a lot so far, but I’m still doing pretty well. Moral support would be awesome.
I closed my laptop and smiled as I felt a bit of self-confidence enter my body. It was then I thought of something.
Why did I say it was a fine Thorsday? When the hell is Thorsday?
I forgot to mention it, but Discord gave every day of the year a different name.
I opened up the laptop again and clicked on the calendar. There it was, in plain sight. Marsday, Thorsday, Wagnesday, Threesday, Fried-Zucchini-Day, and Smattersday were what comprised this entire week.
How did I know to put Thorsday?
That was probably my influence on your mind. I gotta say though, you’re doing an incredible job closing it.
Thanks… I guess.
Now a question for you: Why are you not acting even remotely like me? I’ve been holding influence on your head for two days. How are still retaining your original mental state?
I don’t know. Maybe it has to do with the fighting of the melding.
You didn’t fight before, so I think it should have affected you in the first day some.
Maybe we’re really alike.
I’d die if that were true, but praise Celestia it isn’t. I’ve taken the liberty of examining your personality extensively, and it’s nothing like mine. You have some extreme need to swear; a lot.
I spend a lot of my free time on the internet. It basically has started to dictate my mind.
How old are you?
I’m twenty.
Okay, whatever. I’m gonna let you get back to the real world now.
I focused back on the world, where Fine Line was staring at me intently.
“What?” I asked the unicorn.
“You’ve been staring off into space for awhile. Gertrude said you were talking to Carrot Top in your head, but I wanted to wait until you stopped to ask if that was true.”
“Yes, it’s true,” I replied. “But don’t think it’s just the coolest thing ever. She’s only in my head because our minds are slowly becoming one.”
“Sounds like it sucks pretty badly,” Fine Line replied. “But I’m sure if I would want that or not. I guess all together it depends about the pony slowly melding with me.” “Well, I’ve got Carrot Top, who apparently is very sarcastic, likes to insult me, and has some kind of hatred against most forms of language.”
“I actually think that would make me laugh.”
***
We were now about halfway to Chicago, and I decided to skip the entire section until know because it would have just been a great big waste of my time and yours. So, anyways, boring things aside, something finally happened, but it wasn’t good, or even remotely helpful to anypony… … frigging ponyisms.
The bus was rattling along its predetermined path when suddenly, the road turned into soap. It was just my luck to have it all go so smoothly and then explode in my face (or muzzle?).
The vehicle began to swerve madly, trying to gain traction on the now slippery asphalt soap. Every passenger was screaming their heads off, me and my friends included, as we slowly made out way to a curve in the road. The bus driver tried to turn, but no dice, there was no grip for the tires.
We ran off the road and the world flipped sideways as the bus fell to its side. I banged my head on some piece of metal and heard a loud cry of pain. I could barely register the noise before the impact of my head on metal knocked me unconscious.
***
I woke up to the sound of pained sobs. I opened my eyes and saw the blue sky above me, with puffy white clouds soaring across its majesty. I took a moment to admire the scene before the sobs brought me back from my trance. I sat straight up and felt a sudden pain in my head.
“Oh, Celestia, that is a headache,” I muttered as I grasped my head in my hooves. It may have been a post-head injury hallucination, but I swore I saw Discord for just a split second as I fought the pain.
I closed my eyes and waited as the first pain receded. I took the brief time without the pain to examine my surroundings. We were in an open field, and I saw the road a fair distance away.
It took a moment to notice that there were no humans at all, even though there were plenty on the bus.
“You’re awake!” Gertrude yelled, running up and hugging me. “I swear, both of you suffered the worst damn injuries ever! You had the biggest bump on your head, and you weren’t waking up, and,”
“I’m fine, sort of,” I replied, wondering why the use of the word “damn” caused me to flinch. “My head just hurts a heaping lot. How long was I out?”
“It’s been a day now by my guessing. You know, Fine Line got hurt so much worse, but he woke up a lot sooner then you did.”
It was then I noticed Fine Line, who was the source of the sobs I had heard earlier. He had a weird stain across his face; it was colored lavender, but mixed with some periwinkle, and it cut across his fur like a cut. I looked at the top of his head and saw that his horn was missing, broken near his hair, which was now covered in the same stuff on his face.
“Holy s-,” I don’t know why, but my mind stopped me from finishing that sentence. “Heck, man, you look like crap.”
“It hurts like hell,” he replied, at which I felt myself flinch at his language.
What the heck?
“You really should not use that language,” I said, quite against my will.
“What? You were swearing like a freaking pirate when the bus crashed! Most of that stuff would make kids forever regret their existence on Earth.”
“I don’t know… I suddenly have some kind of hatred against swearing.”
Then my mind caught up after being under for a day.
“Oh, no, no, no, no!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “God freaking damn it!”
I was so angry those words came out involuntarily.
“What?!” Gertrude yelled, running up after apparently hearing my outburst.
“The meld is done,” I said. “I am Carrot Top, and Carrot Top is me.”
6. Wilderness Survival. Too Bad I Was Never in Boyscouts.
Imagine Carrot Top spinning around on the ground on her side, screeching like there was no tomorrow. That was me right now, after the realization sunk in that the mind-meld was complete, and that Carrot Top and I were one in the same. I was trying- and failing, to spit out the most vulgar swears I could as I twisted like a madpony in the dirt.
So, any who, when this whole episode was over, I had to shake out dirt from my mane and coat. I gulped and sat down, plopping my orange butt onto the ground.
“This just sucks,” I said. “I don’t even know if I can talk to Carrot Top anymore! She was at least a secondary form of company that I could always talk to!”
“Well, if you’re the same,” Gertrude started. “Then would you even need to talk to her? Everything she knew before the meld will be in your head, so you won’t need her anymore.”
“Oh,” said I, feeling pretty stupid for not realizing that, even though it was really obvious. “But still, she was company!”
“And we’re not enough?” Fine Line butted in, grimacing as he apparently tried to hold back tears from the pain of his broken horn. “You don’t seem like Carrot Top.”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “As soon I insult one of you or myself, then I’ll know. I already can’t curse like I could before, so that’s there… oh, God, bad thought, bad thought!”
“What? What is it?!” Gertrude yelled.
“If I am now Carrot Top, that means that I have always been a male, and a female! GAGHFAOPIBGF!”
Yes, if you had decided to spell out the sound that I had just made, it would have looked like that. Creepy, huh? Back to the matter at hoof, which was my now conflicting gender, and I was turning it into a terrible drama. It must be the now feminine side of my mind overreacting to the situation.
“If you were always a male, what about now?” Fine Line asked, struggling not to laugh. “You’re a mare now, so you can’t always have been a male.”
“Shut the BUCK UP!” I yelled, my head automatically censoring the word I had intended to use with the equine equivalent… or at least the Equestrian equine equivalent.
“Leave it, dude,” Gertrude said. “It doesn’t matter that much and you know it, so stop being Rarity and shut up.”
This calmed me down… to a point. I was still reeling in mental shock from all of what had happened, and my head still hurt, too; I forgot about that. I was forgetting a lot of things.
"So," Gertrude said, changing the topic of conversation. "What are we going to do now that we're stuck in the middle of nowhere?"
I looked around. We were stranded in an open field near the road.
"Uh..." I said, thinking. "We can't go anywhere with him injured!"
I pointed a hoof at Fine Line, who was sitting and watching.
"I'm not just 'him!'" he yelled in outrage. "I have a name! Preferably Fine Line."
"What else are we going to do?" Gertrude asked.
I smiled as both Carrot Top and I apparently had the same direction.
"Hitchhike!" I said, raising my hoof dramatically.
"Oh, Jesus," Gertrude muttered as Fine Line started to laugh. "You men are idiots."
***
We stood by the road, hooves raised in what may have been considered to be Nazi propaganda. Luckily, Fine Line started laughing and told us what we looked like. We stopped.
"This is pointless!" Gertrude said. "A single car hasn't passed by in forever! Let's just go and try to find another way!"
I sighed and nodded.
"Fine," I said.
"What?" Fine Line asked.
"No, I was talking to Gertrude," I replied.
"Oh."
We all gathered what stuff we had that survived the crash, which was most of our things, and we began to walk off into the field.
"How did our stuff make it through the crash?" Fine Line asked.
"Just be glad it did!" Gertrude said. "We may need it."
And it turned out that we did, when five hours later, we were still walking through a field, sweating and trying to continue our journey.
"Let's stop!" Fine Line said for the millionth time.
"We must keep going!" Gertrude yelled breathily. "We must find a town!"
I just watched them bicker on as I breathed deeply and tried to focus on walking. Soon, I just fell to the ground.
"I think we should stop!" I yelled. "I really don't believe we can go further!"
The others just plopped down. Gertrude pulled out bottles of water and tossed them at Fine Line and me. I grabbed it in my mouth and suddenly reached a dilemma.
"Uh... how will I open this and drink from it?" I asked.
Gertrude paused and thought. She shrugged.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I would ask Fine Line, but he, you know..."
We were trapped in a terrible dilemma, one that was urgent and required our immediate attention. If we did not get water, we would die of thirst or heat or something.
"This sucks!" Fine Line yelled as he tore at the bottle's cap with his hoof, grunting in frustration. "Why are bottles not made for pony use?! And Gertrude, why'd you bring these if you're a pony?!"
"I'm sorry," she said with a huff. "It was all I could find in the house!"
Fine Line gnawed at the top and was rewarded with a snap. He laughed triumphantly.
"Ha! I broke it!"
And so he did. He had torn the cap right off the bottle, which he tipped back into his mouth.
"C'mon, you guys!" he said after a long swig.
I wrestled with mine and was gratified the same way, with a cracking and a few pops. I chugged half the bottle and smiled. Gertrude did the same, and soon we were all laughing and sighing in relief as our thirst was quenched.
"Whew!" I said, dropping onto my back. "That was good."
"Hell, yeah!" Fine Line replied.
"Now, what-" Gertrude began.
ROAR!
We all snapped into attention and looked around. Soon, we all focused on the single, solitary red object approaching us. My eyes widened as it grew closer, the roar getting louder.
"Okay," I said. "That is just stupid."
The object was a red pickup truck, barreling forward at breakneck speed, heading right for them.
"Jump!" Gertrude yelled, voicing what were about to do anyways (thanks Captain Obvious).
We jumped, and the truck ran through where we once were, and right over our supplies... including my electronics. The vehicle slid to a stop twenty feet later, and a man wearing camo overalls stepped out.
"Whoa!" he said, staring at us. "There are ponies everywhere!"
When rednecks are the ones who save your life from death in the middle of an open field, you start to wonder about the cosmic purpose of your life. Also makes you wonder where you went wrong, and what horrific choices got you to this point.
I sure was wondering, and I was straight pissed about having to be saved by bearded men with an accent halfway southern and halfway northern.
“Jim, whattaya think a that?” the first said, turning to his friend.
“I think something’s happened, Joe,” Jim replied, spitting. “Maybe Maurice got somethin’ into our drinks again.”
“Nah,” Joe said, cracking a smile, revealing yellowing teeth. “I found his little stash and threw it in the river.”
The two men were slightly hunched, with unshaven, messy beards and green eyes that shone with some form of ignorant stupidity. They had red hair and freckles spotted their bodies.
They were the embodiment of a stereotype. I guess the only thing missing was a true Southern accent.
“You ran over our stuff!” I yelled.
Fine Line and Ginger Star seconded my outburst. The rednecks laughed.
“They talk!” Jim exclaimed. “That’s somethin’!”
I opened my mouth to say something really bad, but the Carrot Top part of my head fought it down.
“Look, damn it!” Ginger yelled, pointing a hoof to our now crushed bags, torn to shreds and covered in mud. “You ran over our stuff! All of our food and electronics!”
“Oh,” Joe said, taking a look at the wreckage. “Well, we’re all sorry ‘bout that.”
“Why’d you just drive at us?” Ginger yelled, stomping on Joe’s foot. He yelped. “What kind of twisted dumbass just drives at living things?!”
“We thought y’all was like a turkey or sumthin’,” Jim said, patting Joe on the back. “Thought maybe we’d get us some dinner while we was out.”
Ginger screamed with a closed mouth, and stormed at me.
“What the hell are we going to do?” she asked, gritting her teeth.
“I don’t know,” I replied, backing away slightly. “This is beyond weird.”
We both looked over at the two people and saw Fine Line chatting away, getting them to laugh.
“Fine Line, what the actual fuck,” Ginger said in disbelief. “Why the hell are you even talking to them.”
“Hey,” Joe said. “Your friend here’s pretty funny. I think we can house y’all for a night and drive ya up to town tomorrow.”
“Well, hey!” Ginger said, becoming falsely jovial. “That sounds like a great idea! You guys are great. I am just glad that you came across us and almost ran us over.”
“You’re welcome,” Jim said, cracking a bigger smile than the one he currently had on.
Ginger sighed and looked at me with complete disbelief, “Help.”
I shook my head. I honestly believed that getting some shelter, no matter how strange, was better than staying in the open.
Joe and Jim opened up their truck and ushered us in. Fine Line jumped inside with a flash, myself following shortly after. Ginger was more hesitant, but she soon caved in, not wishing to be left alone.
“Where do you guys live?” Fine Line asked. He stuck his head out the window as the rednecks began to drive. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”
“We live out by a small town,” Jim said. “Nothin’ much happens but we got all the time to go huntin’ and such. We sell pelts and other animal commodities.”
“Wow, did you really just use the word ‘commodities?’” Ginger snickered. “I’m amazed you even know that word.”
“We heard it once or twice before,” Joe countered. “We gotta dictionary back home. We use it when we need it.”
Ginger was stunned, and fell back quietly. Fine Line was yelling into the air, his mane whipping around, a smile plastered across his face. I, however, was having an extreme flashback of carrots.
Carrot Top, what the hell? I thought, trying to understand why I was having a vision of falling into a vat of wet carrots. There was absolutely no reason why I should be having it.
“Hey, Jackson,” Ginger said loudly. I jumped and turned to look at her. “You were clawing at the air and screaming. It was weird. Are you okay? Did the bus crash mess you up or something?”
“No,” I said, trying to think of a way to make the whole thing seem more reasonable. “I was having some vision. Something from Carrot Top’s past in Equestria. She was drowning in carrots or something.”
“That sounds lame,” Fine Line said. “Like, drowning in carrots? How do you do that?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, shaking my head. “I don’t really want to think about it. I just hope I don’t have another flashbac-”
And then it happened again. I saw myself shoveling dirt and placing carrots in the ground. I watered everything. I saw crazy things occurring, things like Discord and Nightmare Moon. I didn’t know what exactly was happening, but I felt a lot of anger as I stood over a destroyed garden.
“JACKSON!”
I snapped out of the trance and looked at Ginger. I was about to hit her.
“Oh, whoops,” I said sheepishly.
“Whoops?” she replied, getting into my face. “You almost punched me in the face! THE FACE! What the hell was that?!”
“Dude, something is messed up with you,” Fine Line said anxiously. “Maybe the merge with Carrot Top wasn’t such a good thing.”
“Hey, y’all,” Jim said. “I hate to intrude on yer crazy times, but we’re here.”
The truck crawled to a stop, and we climbed out onto the gravel driveway leading up to a small shack covered in guns and vines. An A/C unit committed suicide against the house, sounding like a person trying to drink bleach and talk.
“Y’all can stay here tonight,” Joe said, leading us up to the house. “We can drive you into town tomorrow if y’all want.”
“Thanks,” Ginger said, kicking at the ground.
We were shown to a room where we would sleep and were told to make ourselves at home. It was getting dark, so we just laid down and tried to think about our plans.
“What should we do when we’re in town?” Ginger asked. “We don’t have any money, and I seriously doubt these people have the charitable funds for a bus ride to New York. They certainly won’t drive us.”
“We may have to go off of our wits,” I replied, shrugging. “Maybe we can get on the bus for free.”
“And what if Discord attacks again?” Fine Line mused. “What’ll we do then?”
“We don’t have the luxury of long-term planning,” Ginger said. “We have to get to New York as fast as possible.”
The sound of rain began to ping into the roof above, and wind seeped through the walls, chilling us. I heard something loud in the distance. Fine Line and Ginger were talking, and I hushed them.
“You hear that?” I asked, hearing the others perk up.
“I know that sound...” Fine Line whispered. “It’s-”
