“What are the worst things one gets to experience in ones life?”
“The loss of a love one?”
“Poverty?”
“Disease?”
“Well I guess out of the eight or so billion of us out there someone had to get the combo. But why the fuck did it have to be me?”
“Okay, I may be getting a little ahead of myself, let me start from the beginning.”
“Hello there, my name is Joe, and I am your average earth human male. Twenty-ish something years old, a college dropout, who just had a hell of a year.”
“Where do I start?”
“A few months ago my entire life went to hell.”
“First my phone died during the night, and I woke up late. Normally that would be a good thing, except that I had a job, and a history of getting late to work. So I grabbed my dead phone and it’s charger and rushed over to work, where I was going to charge it. When I got there I was two hours late, but I got right to work trying to catch up on the lost time. It was a stormy day but work was close enough so I just ran over. No sooner that the phone starts charging that the boss want to talk to me. Ten minutes of yelling and generally making me feel like a little piece of crap, and he gives me the boot. I go pack my stuff and I get a text. It was my sister telling me that dad died.”
“So there I was, jobless, saddened, and worst still I managed to catch a cold.”
Storm clouds were covering the sky, the wind was blowing, winter was fast approaching and that year’s autumn was cold, rainy, and windy.
Deep in the city, down a small alleyway filled with all manner of trash, where the building’s walls were covered in several layers of graffiti, hidden inside an condemned building, a small group of homeless tried to keep warm. Among them stood one a young human by the name of Joe. A few months ago the poor soul had lost his job, found out his father died, got dumped by his girlfriend, and lost his home shortly after. Now homeless, jobless, cold and alone, Joe tried to get from one day to another.
But things have a tendency to get worse before they get better.
The door of the building was kicked open and five men made their lives even more miserable. They started beating up every homeless they find, breaking anything that they could break, all the time cursing and laughing at their victims misfortune.
Lucky Joe was sleeping far enough from the door that the screams of the firsts woke him up and he had just enough time to get some of his stuff and ran away, others were not as lucky.
Now with only the clothes on his back and what he could take with him he wandered the streets of the city.
He walked and kept his eyes open for a place where he could find something to eat, or sleep during the night. After spending the rest of the day dumpster diving, running from angry store owners, almost getting arrested he found a small homeless camp build underneath a railway crossing. Being a newcomer the best he could get was a spot next to the edge of the camp. The wind blew just as strong as always but at least he was keeping dry, for the most part.
He covered himself with a jacket he managed to take from his previous place, and tried to get to sleep.
Another thing that keep him from doing that, besides the wind, the cold, and the rain, was the light.
Despite most of the lights around the crossing either dead or dieing, he was unable to sleep because of a large electronic billboard a short distance away. Two advertisements, complete with sound, were set on an endless loop, most of the noise was drowned out by the rain, but the light was not. One of the commercials was for a coffee soft drink. It was short, comprised mostly just out of the company’s logo and slogan. But the other was louder, more animated, and a lot more interesting. Joe spent much of the night just looking at it. It was selling something he really wanted.
Hope.
The screen goes dark after the soda commercial, and a speaker appears on the screen.
A white woman with long black hair, thin glasses, wearing a black suit with a green shirt walks confidently in front of a white background.
When she reaches the middle of the screen she turns towards the viewer.
“Freedom,” she started talking as the cameras slowly zoomed to her face. “Freedom is the thing we all want. The thing we all fight our whole life to obtain. Since the moment we are born, our freedom is slowly taken from us. We are not free. We are the prisoners of genetics, of fate, and of the world.”
The screen fades to black.
“We work every day of our lives to pay for our freedom. Trapped in an perpetual debt that can only get bigger. We dig our own hole deeper with every step we take towards freedom.”
“You want to succeed in life? You need an education, and that cost money.”
“You want a place to call your own? You need money to buy a home.”
“And where are you going to get that money? You work for it.”
“But how can a person be free when his life is dictated by the clock and the whims of his employer?”
“Thomas Jefferson wanted an America that was predominantly agrarian, with most people being small scale subsistence level farmers.”
Again the screen goes black.
“Now imagine a world where you live a life free of incompetent politicians and bosses that tell you what you can and cannot do...”
Images of green meadows, larvish forests, and many natural beauties appeared as she talked.
“A world where you were in charge of your own life, a world free of debt, a world in which you are free.”
“The Conversion Bureau offers exactly that. Freedom.”
“Join thousands of other humans who decided to leave this miserable life behind and move to Equestria.”
“Become a majestic pegasus that can fly and walk on clouds...” pictures of pegasi flying, doing acrobatic stunts, walking on clouds or just lazily sleeping on one in a warm summer’s day were now shown.
“A mighty earth pony, gifted with the strength of a hundred men.” The images changed to that of large earth ponies, doing incredible feats, like pulling a house, uprooting a tree, smashing a boulder with their bare hooves.
“Or a gifted unicorn, capable of bending reality to their whim.” The earth ponies were replaced with unicorns performing flashy acts of magic.
“So what are you waiting for?” The image returned to the woman, she was now sitting in front of an empty plot of land.
“Find the nearest TCB agency and ask for Jeffersonian Package.”
“Oh, and the price? It’s free.”
“The TCB offers its services free of charge. Now leave this world behind and start your life anew in Equestria.”
After the third of fourth instalment of the ad, “No Signal” appeared on the billboard, and it stood like that for a few minutes, after which the screen went black again and a loud, high-pitched shriek was heard before the distorted voice of a man started talking.
“People of Earth!” the words echoed through the city. “You have been lied to!”
The image returned, a human wearing a black suit and what could best be described as a grotesque horse mask stood in front of a desk, like a news anchor.
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems.” He talked without gesticulation, without any kind of movement whatsoever. It was like the video was frozen.
“But just don’t take our word for it. Over the course of the next days we will be showing the world proof of what is actually going on there.”
“We are H.A.T.E.C.B. Humans Against The Conversion Bureau, and expect to hear from us soon.”
The screen cuts directly to the soda commercial. And Joe tries to get some sleep.
Joe was awakened up bright and early next morning by the same loud, high-pitched shriek that he heard last night. Again the “No Signal” message appears on the billboard, followed by the black screen, and the horsed mask person.
“People of Earth!” again the words echoed through the city. “You have been lied to!”
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems. What follows was taken right from their own security cameras.”
The screen once again becomes black, before showing a large conference room, where an employee had already started giving a presentation.
“... as you can see gentlemen conversions are at an all time low,” he pointed towards a chart that showed a descending pattern.
“Even the new jeffersonian advertising could not stop the drop. But with the new Ponify plan we can not only stop the descend, but start making great profit again.”
The persons sitting at the table started talking among themselves but nothing could be heard but mumbling.
“Gentlemen!” a person standing just outside the camera’s field of view said, and the room went quiet. “What is the main goal of The Conversion Bureau?”
“To facilitate the transformation of humans into sapient equines,” one of them said.
“And?” the voice asked.
“And their integration into the Equestrian society,” another added.
“And?” the voice asked again, a little annoyed that he was not getting the answer he wanted.
“To turn a profit,” the man holding the presentation said, confident by his answer.
“Exactly!” the voice exclaimed. “And how do we turn a profit?”
“By converting people into ponies.”
“Correct. Then it is settled, proceed with Project Ponify.”
“But sir,” one of the them protested. “Think about the ethical implication.”
“Do you know what should any form of advertising do?” the voice asked.
“ To inform, persuade and influence,” he continued before anyone had time to reply.
“If the marketing department is doing their jobs, there shouldn't be a soul alive who doesn't know what we do. They are informed. All that is left for us is to persuade and influence them to sign up...”
The video ended, and the man wearing the horse mask returned.
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems.”
“Over the course of the next days we will be showing the world the rest of the proof.”
“We are H.A.T.E.C.B. Humans Against The Conversion Bureau, and expect to hear from us soon.”
Again the screen cut directly to the soda commercial, Joe woke up and headed into town to search for something to eat.
It was around ten and Joe was still searching for something to eat.
The garbage trucks came unusually early that morning so all the dumpsters he checked were either empty or didn't have anything he could eat.
Out of luck he went to a crowded street and pulled out his cardboard sign and plastic cup, and hoped he could at least get enough to buy a loaf of bread.
Across the street from where he sat there was an electronic shop. The computer screens went black, as did the televisions, and the familiar loud, high-pitched shriek came from every available speakers. The “No Signal” message appears briefly followed by another brief black screen, and the man wearing the horse mask appeared.
“People of Earth!” he could be heard much clearer now. “You have been lied to!”
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems. What follows was taken right from their own security cameras.”
The screen becomes black once again, then it switches to footage taken from a security camera. The image was of a large white facility, probably a lab, with a few lab coat wearing humans talking to each other in front of a large glass box, with thin tubes sticking out of it.
"... as you can see Project Ponify is progressing nicely. We are even ahead of schedule, and we expect to begin human tests sometime next week," one of the researchers said to someone off screen.
The camera moves, trying to get a better view of the person, but he was standing well outside the camera's field of view.
"Would you like a demonstration sir?" another one asked looking in the same direction as the first.
Inside the large glass box were placed a few white mice, then a couple of food pallets. The mice moved towards the pallets, took a few sniffs and quickly moved away.
"Most of the pallets are doused with poison, the mice can smell it and will not eat them," one of the them explained.
"But now look what happens when we add the agent."
One by one the mice were removed from the box and injected with an unknown substance before being placed back.
Once again the mice walked over to the pile of pellets and sniffed them, and once again they moved away from them.
One of the scientist signaled another to pull a switch. He did, and a small light bulb flashed a few times.
The mice headed to the pallets once more, only that this time they ate them and fell dead in a matter of seconds. The other mice went to investigate the dead ones, then ignored them and went to eat the pellets. They suffered the same fate.
"As you can see the agent successfully inhibits the brain's ability to consider the risks involved, choosing only to focus on the rewards, or potential rewards. "
"The light can be easily added to our commercials," another scientist said.
"And neither the agent or the light pattern does anything by themselves, " another added.
The screen becomes black once more and the man in the horse mask appears.
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems.”
“Before tomorrow ends we will be showing the world the rest of the proof.”
“We are H.A.T.E.C.B. Humans Against The Conversion Bureau, and expect to hear from us soon.”
The masked man's words were barely heard over the mumbling mass of people that had gathered in front of the store to look at the message.
A few of them passed in front of Joe and threw a few coins his way, at least he could get a bite to eat.
The rest of Joe's day was uneventful. He made enough money to get something to eat, and he even found some good food in a dumpster behind a dinner, as well as an old mattress.
With his stomach full he carried the mattress back to the camp located underneath the railway crossing. Now sitting in a more confortable bed, shielded from the rain, he looked towards the billboard.
At sometime around midnight the signal was lost and the masked man next clip started playing.
“People of Earth! You have been lied to!”
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems.”
This time it was a clipshow with footage taken from various security and traffic cameras, as well as images caught with a phone's camera.
At first they showed a hooded person bumping into random persons on the street. A few shots were taken with a phone, and it was much clearer what the man was actually doing.
It was something like out of a spy movie. The man placed a tracker on his "victims," in their pockets, bags, their coats sleeves, or wherever he could.
In a second clip it showed another person coming up to the marks, approaching them on the streets and spraying perfume in their faces, under the pretence of giving away free samples.
Then came a the intro of the TCB commercial.
And finally a shot in which every one of them entered a TCB office that very same day.
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems. They are using mind altering drugs to make people more susceptible to their ads, to a degree that no one can stop themselves from converting.”
“Before tomorrow ends we will be showing the world the rest of the proof.”
“We are H.A.T.E.C.B. Humans Against The Conversion Bureau, and expect to hear from us soon.”
The message ends, and the commercials resumed playing as Joe goes to sleep.
The next day starts with a message from the masked man of the H.A.T.E.C.B.
“People of Earth! You have been lied to!”
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems.”
“They are not satisfied with converting one person at the time, they wish to spread the Ponify agent to every living human.”
The screen changes to the image of a document that has the TCB logo on top.
The Conversion Bureau
Project Ponify is it proceed to stage two.
The image changes back to the masked man.
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems. Not only that they are using mind altering drugs to make people more susceptible to their ads, but they are also planning it to release it to the general public, by adding it to the drinking water of major cities around the world.”
“Before today ends we will be showing the world the rest of the proof.”
“We are H.A.T.E.C.B. Humans Against The Conversion Bureau, and expect to hear from us soon.”
The soda commercial starts playing, and Joe heads to the city in search for breakfast.
HAThE Conversion Bureau Ponify - When the mask fell
That morning was good for Joe, a corner store just threw out a large batch of produce, and a good chunk of it was still edible, and people were unusually generous.
He stood in the same place, across the street from the electronics shop. At twelve sharp the signal was cut and the horse masked person appeared on screen.
“People of Earth! You have been lied to!”
“The Conversion Bureau is not what it seems.”
“Have you ever wondered how they could afford to do that?”
“Have you ever wondered how they can afford to have their commercials everywhere?”
“Have you ever wondered where their money comes from? Especially since their services are allegedly free?”
“We have.”
The image changed to a copy of a TCB contract, with the video of the masked man in the corner.
“The way they make money is directly from their victims. When a human signs their contract, they are signing away their life, their identity, as well as all their worldly possessions. Anything and everything that he or she owned is now theirs. Aside from that they now own your identity, and used it to take out loans that they never intend to pay back. They get as much money as they can from you. They take out loans in your name, they use you for tax cuts, they cast your vote to the highest bidder and when enough time has passed they take out a life insurance on your name, and arrange for a fake accident to happen to you, so they can collect the money...”
The sound of a door being broken down interrupted his speech, gunfire and screaming followed.
The masked man stood up and tried to run away but was quickly gunned down.
“Clear,” could be heard coming outside the camera’s field of view.
“Cut the feed,” a different voice said.
And the feed was cut, but not before a masked man, carrying a submachine gun entered the picture.
The crowd was outraged, and over the next couple of weeks riots were common all over the city.
