> Friendship is Not a Drug > by BR > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > I Dream of Ponies > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Andrew set down the empty shot glass and stared, bleary-eyed, at the bartender. The bartender stared back. Andrew then realized he was staring at a stool. "Can I help you, buddy?" The real bartender's gruff voice was just a drone in Andrew's ears. '"You been here for an hour and a half, and I don't think you can get yourself home in one piece"' just became gibberish. The bartender picked up the phone and dialed a number. Andrew leaned back on his stool and stood up. The bartender saw Andrew's state and went over to help him up. "You've been drinking really often lately, buddy. Whassa matter?" Andrew was slow to respond, due to all of the alcohol in his system. "I...I...I.." Andrew was almost too drunk to speak. "I lostmy job and I'm back in rehab,and i have no money, so I don't quite see a reason to keep on livin' he stuttered. "so I drink. So there. Also, my wife has been cheating on me, so there's really nothing I can do about this crappy life." he sighed. "I'm just depressed." The bartender gave Andrew a sympathetic look. Andrew stared back. This went on until a horn honked outside, breaking the silence. "That's your ride." The bartender said kindly to Andrew. "Hope you feel better." He looked at Andrew expectantly, waiting for him to respond. When he didn't, the bartender turned away and began to clean the many shot glasses that Andrew had powered through. Since Andrew was his only customer that night, the bartender didn't have anyone else to attend to. As Andrew stumbled out of the door to the bar, he noticed the taxi that was giving him a ride home. He slouched across the street, closing his eyes for a brief second. He needed some cocaine... again. He was becoming addicted quickly, but he didn't care. Anything to escape the painful waste that was his life, even if it was only for a few minutes. He was not going home that night. Andrew saw a homeless person as he trudged down the street. The grimy man peered up at him and cracked a grin. "Money for some food, bro?" Andrew glared at the man. He had some coins, but he didn't want to share. He kicked the man, sending him sprawling. Just then, the cab drove up. Andrew opened the door and climbed inside the car. He grimaced. The entire car smelled like smoke. As the driver drove away, Andrew, still buzzing from the liquor, walked over to the trailer home. He knocked twice, then paused, then knocked again. he had been coming here often now, so the secret knock was familiar to him. Wow. His life was horrible. Andrew had been thinking like this ever since he had begun taking drugs, but this was the first time that the thought had crossed. His brain. He began to wonder what suicide was like. Any way, it appealed to Andrew. Anything to escape his horrible life. "Andy! So good ta see ya!" Donnie was Andrew's main drug supplier, the one who had enabled tons of people yet never got caught. He was tall, with a Bronx accent, and he always had a smile on, revealing teeth black from decades of smoking. He was always enthusiastic in his work, considering he was responsible for the deaths of dozens of people. Andrew hated Donnie. The only reason he had began to come to this annoying man is that his last dealer, Rahim, had killed himself rather than face charges for drug abuse. "So," Donnie said quickly, that nasty grin of his never leaving his face. "The Usual?" 15 grams of cocaine. "No." Andrew spoke through gritted teeth. "Just need enough for an hour." Donnie's face fell. Andrew was one of his biggest buyers on a daily basis. He handed Andrew a bag filled with the toxic drug. Outside of the trailer home, Andrew pulled the metal straw out of his pocket and set it in the cocaine, inhaling deeply. The effect of the coke was almost instantaneous, but it was not the high he usually got. This one was different. He was fading into black now, and the last thing he heard was one word: Ponies. **************************************************************************************************************************************************** Andrew was floating. That was the first thing that had registered in his drug-addled brain. But he could think. All effects of the cocaine were gone. He felt that someone was watching him. He turned around to see that he was in total darkness. There was absolutely nothing in this confined space. Begining Suddenly, a voice floated out of the nothing. "Human. Do you know why you are here?" The voice was commanding, but also motherly at the same time, like the speaker really cared about him. Andrew was clueless. He honestly had no idea why this was different from his normal highs. He looked around nervously. "Are you the police?" He asked the presence. He winced. Even the idea of it sounded ridiculous. Who would trick a person into believing that he was talking to a deity? The voice, slightly taken aback by the question, replied. "No, I am not the police, but I am someone who cares about you. My name is Princess Celestia. I can help you." Andrew was perplexed. Why would a princess help him, of all people? Celestia continued on. "I oversee not only my world of Equestria, but other worlds on this plane of reality. You have stood out, human, but not on a good way. You have not learned the true values of friendship. You are not kind to others. You are not generous, nor loyal, nor honest. Your life is devoid of laughter. You must learn these values in order to have a happier life. Andrew was pissed off. No one told him what to do. Not even a omniscient voice. "And what if I don't?" He refused to believe that friendship, of all things, could save him from his misery. Celestia was curt and firm. "You die." Andrew was immediately taken aback. Celestia tone of voice softened. "Look through this window." Andrew did as he was told. Immediately, he gasped in horror. The view in the window was that of a hospital. A man was in the hospital emergency room, being kept from death by a few IVs in his body. He was encircled in a wreath of tubes and syringes. The man I'm the bed was in terrible condition, and the doctors rushed around him furiously. There was talk of pumping his stomach, and other medical talk, but one thing stood out to Andrew. It was the talk of drugs. How drugs had made the incapacitated man this way. Andrew had a shocking revelation. The man in the bed was HIM. The drugs he had taken were destroying him, and the fact that he had an addiction made this even worse. Andrew collasped into tears. Even Celestia was worried. "If you do not learn how friendship can make your life better," she repeated, "Then you will perish." "Oh yeah? How am I supposed to learn about goddamn friendship when I'm stuck in goddamn bed?" He was extremely irate with everything, and Celestia could do nothing to curb his anger. "Six ponies will appear to you likewise to me." Celestia's voice was quickly fading, and Andrew had to strain his ears to listen to what she had to say. "Their names are Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Applejack, Twilight Sparkle, and Fluttershy. "They will be your mentors..." > Honesty > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- After Celestia left, there was nothing to but wait for the first mentor to arrive. He floated around the void, frustrated that he couldn't control his direction, leaving him with only one thing to do: think about why he was here. He had taken drugs before, so why did he end up here this time? Andrew was deeply disappointed with himself. He knew that there was a lack of friendship in his life, but he was so occupied with the cocaine and the loss of his job to worry about it. As a consequence, he was now stuck in a void. With PONIES. Of all things, ponies. Andrew thought deeply. He had a coworker who often spoke of ponies, so he tried to remember if he had mentioned any of those names. Certainly he had mentioned Rainbow- whatsahoosit before, but he couldn't place any of those other names. This meant that Andrew was talking to several characters from a little girl's television show Andrew would have laughed, but all he could do was sit and wait for the first mentor to arrive. He had no idea how long he waited, but soon a voice rang out from the darkness. "Hullo? Anypony there Ah need ta talk to?" The voice was distant at first, but then it grew louder, informing Andrew that the speaker was fast approaching. Andrew readied himself to talk to one of these ponies. Did the ponies really care about how he looked? Did he have to speak to them like he spoke with Celestia? And why did everything smell like fudge? The first pony came into his peripheral vision. It wore a rustic cowboy hat, and it's dark yellow coat, blond mane, and piercing green eyes were beacons compared to the dark tones of the realm Andrew was in. He almost laughed in the pony's face. He couldn't believe it: talking ponies! He really must have taken a lot of coke. As the pony approached, she took off her hat with one hoof and offrered the other to Andrew. "Howdy. Mah name's Applejack, and from what Ah reckon, the Princess says you are gonna need a talkin' to." Andrew looked at the mare, debating whether or not to tell her about his problems and addictions. he still thought this was a strange dream, and he figured that it was worth admitting it to someone...or somepony. He shook the outstreched hoof of Applejack, but kept his eyes staring at the ground the entire time. Applejack noticed this, and gave Andrew a quizzical look. "Well, If Ah'm not mistaken, y'all must be that Andrew fellah Celestia told us about." Celestia. Andrew thought back to what she had told him after the accident. Honesty... He glanced at Applejack again, noting that her eyes showed no sign of deception or lies. He took a deep breath. If he was gonna survive, honesty was one of the things he was going to need. He took a deep breath. "Applejack, I do need a talking to." the pony looked up at Andrew expectantly. "I have pretty much been trashing my life. Between the loss of my job, drugs-" "Whooaa there nelly," interrupted Applejack. "What the hay are 'drugs'?" Andrew was shocked. Of course ponies didn't know what drugs were, they came from a children's television show! His mind quickly raced to think of a way to tell the pony what drugs were, in a way that wouldn't destroy her innocence. "Well...umm..." he began, "Drugs are something that some humans take in order to make themselves feel good." Applejack's confused look left her face as she nodded in understandment. "Well, sugarcube, Ah see your point now. Humans take these 'drugs' because whatever they're doin' is not good. Humans take drugs to feel better, right?" Andrew was shocked at the perceptiveness of the orange pony; he had thought Applejack to be a simple farm girl. Or pony. "Actually, yeah." What else did this pony know about him? She may represent Honesty, but could she tell if he was lying? He had no choice; he had to tell Applejack everything about his horrible life. "Applejack, it all started when I lost my job as a advertising manager." "What in the name of Luna is that?" "Well, I kind of...exaggerate....things so people will buy stuff." Andrew never felt more embarassed about explaining his job in his life, especially to a cartoon pony. Applejack gave him a look that Andrew predicted that a long lecture was going to follow. "Sugarcube, exaggeration ain't the truth. When y'all are bein' honest with others, you gotta tell them everything. This means tha' you can't leave any other part of the truth out, even if it is a bad part to the truth. Take farmin', for example. When you take the apples down from the trees, y'all can be honest by only selling the good ones. If you sell a bad apple to a cusotmer, y'all are basically lyin' to them. You need to be honest and make it right, even if you don't make the sale. That's why farmin' is called 'honest work' so often." Then, something happened. The blackness that currently enveloped Andrew now twisted as Applejack said these words. Andrew found himself spinning, and then it stopped. *********** "Can I help ya, buddy?" It was the voice of the bartender. The same bar he was in before the accident. The bartender that had tried to help him. At first, Andrew was incredulous that he was still alive, his imprisonment inside the blackness so brief. But, as he looked around, he noticed that the windows were black. Indeed, he was still trapped inside the blackness, and this was only an illusion. The second thing he noticed was that Applejack was there. She sat across the bar, returning Andrew's stare, taking sips from what appeared to be a mug of cider. "Can I help ya, buddy?" It was the bartender again. Andrew looked back at him, the concerned look on his face, remembering what he had told him the night of the accident. ""I lost my job and I'm back in rehab, and I have no money, plus my wife's cheating on me, so I don't quite see a reason to keep on living," He carefully repeated, his mind struggling to regain the memories of him on that night. "So I drink." He caught sight of Applejack, who mouthed the words make it right while giving Andrew a look that plainly said: anything ELSE? He turned to the bartender. "Also...I'm addicted to cocaine." The bartender was slightly taken aback by Andrew's declaration. Andrew expected him to kick him out of the bar or call the poilice, but instead the bartender reached down behind the bar and pulled out a business card. Andrew looked it over. It was a card for a drug therapist. "I was on it a few years back," admitted the bartender, "and this guy really helped me get over it. I hope he can do the same for you." As he said this, the blackness closed in on Andrew once again. *************************** As soon as he returned, Andrew was filled with regret. If only he had been honest, he wouldn't be in this situation right now. He would even be back on the road to regaining happiness in his life. If only he had been honest, he would have become a better person. Maybe I really do need honesty in my life. Having thought this, Andrew felt something new inside of him. It was a refreshing wave of morals, cleansing him of his past lies and deceptions. This feeling of renewment was accompanied by a real feeling-pain. Andrew felt something hot on his arm, burning into his skin. He yelped and rolled up the sleeve of his sweatshirt to discover a small tattoo. Three small, red apples. The mark lined up on the inside of Andrew's wrist, leaving enough space for what appeared to be five more of the small marks. "What...what ARE these?" asked Andrew, staring at the small picture on his arm. He showed Applejack, who regarded them with a sense of triumph. "Well, Ah'm no professor-scientist like Twilight is, but Ah think you just trult learned what Honesty really means." Immediately, Applejack began to turn transparent, phasing out of the place Andrew occupied, and back to her own world. "Wait!" cried Andrew. "What do I do next? Who is the next one coming?" Although Applejack was almost gone from sight, Andrew could still clearly hear her voice. "Just wait for Rarity, sugarcube." And then she was gone.