According to All Known Laws of the Oddverse...
Earth.
Third planet from the sun, rich in oxygen and life and bearing some of the most gorgeous views one could ever see. You would be hard-pressed to find a place where animals of all shapes and sizes didn't reside, whether it was the tiniest leaf in a huge forest or the biggest bird soaring high in the sky. Most of these animals are normalized in society by the planet's most dominant species -- lemurs, wolves, even poisonous spiders are well-known, and many are still being studied to this very day. Earth is a rather illustrious ball of mass, even to those looking down upon it from the Moon, and its many plentiful habitats provide lots of living areas for animals to thrive in. Truly, for any animal, it was utter paradise.
But the defining aspects of the planet I'm talking about are just a tad more skewed than that.
The Earth prominently featured in this essay is, in many ways, much the same. Almost any animal that is present on the Earth you know of is present on the Earth I know of, and the same also applies to plants and other such living beings. Habitats on your Earth are filled with life and beauty, just as they are on mine. And the circle of life still churns away on my Earth.
However, there is one feature that your Earth does not have, at least not in the way you might perceive it.
Vortexes that do nothing more than allow the leaves on trees to slightly billow in the winds. Criminals that are so out there with their motives and appearances that they could be poster children for anti-drug public service announcements. Gigantic abominations of amalgamated body parts pieced together by history and evolution to make things that could barely pass for qualifications as to what an "animal" is. All of these things go beyond whatever conceivable discoveries your Earth has in regards to the realm of science. None of them are possible on your Earth, for reasons that are quite obvious to anyone particularly savvy, but they are all possible on mine.
The collective name of all these occurrences and more is what we like to call "oddness". The lack of such occurrences is known as "normalcy".
Normalcy is a very broad term. Each individual has their own opinions about what, exactly, is "normal" and what is "odd". That, of course, includes you. Perhaps what you might think of as "normal" and "odd" differs from my own thoughts. After all, you don't have the same "oddness" in your world as I do in mine. I'm sure you haven't woken up one morning to your pug sitting on the front lawn waiting to be walked, or sipped a cup of supernatural green liquid that looks rather similar to changeling goo in order to cure a case of the hiccups. But within the Earth I live on, events like those are just the norm. I would even go so far as to consider them mere child's play compared to the oddness that directly threatens lives and needlessly takes even more.
Which does include creatures.
The creatures of my Earth would easily constitute as "odd" to any amateurish eye. While the two terms are interchangeable on your Earth, creatures vary quite differently from animals in a wide variety of ways here on mine. A common checklist to identifying such a being and its differences with any run-of-the-mill animal includes the following:
- A creature makes you want to run for your life.
- A creature can often be seen doing mathematics. Many are quite skilled at the subject and can be found doing all sorts of equations.
- A creature can talk. In fact, many of them do possess such a capability.
- A creature wears an undergarment, usually underwear that is covered by protective fur or skin. You tell me the last time your pet rabbit stole your boxers and tried them on, hmm?
- A creature has a rather high amount of stamina, depending on the species. If you're still running after a good half-hour...well, start worrying, that's my advice.
I could spend all day discussing what odd creatures reside on my planet Earth. However, I am here to give you a history lesson on one of the more tame ones within its vast repertoire.
Homo Ponicus. The pony-human hybrid.
You might look at the name and think it's a simple blend of homo sapiens, a human, and Equus caballus, a pony.
And you would be half-right. The only fact you would get wrong is that it's far more complicated than that.
You see, there is only one documented member of this species to date. This being birthed the species, made it come into existence, and in the process, defied any and all preconceived notions of how speciation and biology worked, on both your Earth and mine.
Its name -- no, her name -- is Mandy, and her tale of origination is a rather fascinating one indeed. However, I will not bore you with all the silly details, for not even she knows where, exactly, she came from.
Mandy, as a human, was once known as a strong, smart and kind individual. Eager to solve cases, living by the MOs of teamwork and friendship, and lightfooted in battle with both odd creatures and villains. In almost every sense of the word, she was an ace agent. Perhaps just a bit overpowered, as it were. Although she often went down, her teammates always helped her get back up on her feet so she could restore normalcy and keep it alive for another day. Her hair was short and straight, her tail, wings and horn were all nonexistent, and the only ears she had were the ears that most humans had plastered to the sides of their heads at birth. By all means, her appearance was perfectly average for someone who was skilled at her job to incredible degrees.
That all changed when she saved her friend from a Hydraclops attack, causing magic to heal her wounds and make her, for all intents and purposes, an alicorn.
I became an alicorn in much the same way. However, between my ascension and Mandy's, there are many vast differences. Although the details surrounding her transformation are largely unknown, it is widely agreed on that Mandy did not ascend to some astral plane to become an alicorn, while I did. Mandy received her wings, horn, tail and pony ears due to an act of friendship involving the saving of Agent Applejack, while I received my wings and horn due to finishing a spell written by Starswirl the Bearded and undoing a mistake of my own doing. Mandy is not a princess of anything, while I was named a princess by my very own mentor, who happens to be a princess. The differences seem rather endless, and discussing all of them would take all day. But I'm quite sure you don't have that kind of time, so let's move on.
Mandy is, to put it rather bluntly, an anomaly. Even when one would think they know her, she does something else that surprises them. Infused with energy, enthusiasm, and cheer that is matched only by her Odd Squad partner, Agent Pinkie Pie, she bounces, sings, and dances her way through life in all its aspects, much to the enjoyment, but also the chagrin, of her friends and family. She is, for all intents and purposes, an oddity in and of itself, yet she's not something Odd Squad seeks to get rid of. Rather, they embrace her and all of her oddness, in a form of acceptable irony known only to them.
The "pony" part of Mandy, much like her transformation, is largely unknown. Some theorize that it is represented in her wings, horn and tail. Others theorize that Mandy might actually have an equine form, and thus has the ability to turn into a pony, a denizen of Equestria who is able to travel between worlds in a form that she, and other denizens, are comfortable in. In terms of the pony-human hybrid as a species, no one has been able to identify who the "pony" is in the equation. Some believe it's Applejack, since Mandy transformed after saving her. Others believe it's Pinkie Pie, since she's Mandy's partner and Mandy has her mane style and tail style -- and if you ask me, that is the more logical theory going by appearance alone. Perhaps the "pony" part of the pony-human hybrid has yet to fully unlock for the first member of its group. No one knows, not even Mandy herself.
Throughout my studies on the pony-human hybrid species, I have gathered extensive notes on Mandy's behavior, detailed in diary-like entries. I theorized that, if Mandy is the first of her kind to exist, then perhaps her behaviors would tell me quite a bit about the Homo Ponicus species. It was far better than just making uneducated guesses or coming to incorrect conclusions, even if her behaviors were erratic and randomized.
So, just like I did with Pinkie before I learned to accept her behavior, I studied Mandy in all of her silly, scatterbrained glory. Included below are five entries, each written on separate days, that I have included here so you, and others who read this, might get a good grip on what the Homo Ponicus species is.
Entry 23.
Mandy was busy cooking today, and I offered to help out...at least, as best as I could. Mandy didn't really specify what she was making, just said that it was a secret but I could help her gather ingredients. I have to say, she had a nice rhythm going with cracking eggs, chopping up vegetables, and mixing the culinary conglomerates. Before she put the three pans into the oven, I watched her yawn for at least the tenth time before commenting on how she was "overdue for her nap." Right...I had forgotten she had purposefully freed a spot in her schedule to make room for naptime. Perhaps pony-human hybrids are known for taking naps, or perhaps it's just something exclusive to Mandy, something to counteract her energy levels. I'm not quite sure.
Being a good friend, I offered to keep an eye on the food and take it out of the oven when it was done cooking. She shooed me off, wanting to uphold the secret, but even though I headed back to my desk, I could still hear her snoring tickling my eardrums.
In the end, I took the food out. It turned out to be three of what I can generously call "vegetable cakes". My theory was that Mandy was trying to eat healthier, so she thought sticking vegetables into cake batter would qualify as "eating healthy". I don't know how Dr. O would feel about that. But the chocolate vegetable cake is pretty good, except for the occasional pea or carrot slice that I would crunch on. I didn't feel hungry enough to try any of the others.
As I walked back to my desk, I spotted Pinkie trotting into the bullpen and going right for the cakes, because of course such a unique-looking cake would appeal to her tastes. She tried a bite of all three, and surprisingly, she liked them. She's thinking of floating the idea over to Mr. and Mrs. Cake when she goes back to Sugarcube Corner...and with that said, note to self: tell her that's a bad idea before she goes back there.
Even in spite of Pinkie's taste-testing, Mandy remained asleep. Her head hit the table with such a resounding thud that I thought she had given herself a concussion. And if she did, the way her hand stuck out made it look like she wanted the doctors to pay her for it before she woke up. I resolved to take her all the way to bed, since agents would want to come and use the Breakroom eventually.
As for the cakes...I kept one in one of my desk drawers. Even with how weird the concept was, I couldn't help myself. Chalk one up for Chef Mandy.
Entry 56.
A good day starts with me having some breakfast with Spike at the castle, then arriving in Headquarters for another day of work.
A sour day tends to start with me having some breakfast with Spike at the castle, arriving in Headquarters for another day of work, then seeing Olive dealing with Mandy's antics in ways only she knows how to do.
As I trotted into the bullpen, my head moved to the left, and I saw the Lab had gotten a redesign overnight. Where the green beaker-shaped table used to be, there was an empty spot that exposed a green beaker-shaped grate. The cart in the corner, as well as the wall where gadgets hung, were both moved to make room for two computers that sat on curved stands, and next to those was a black table with a Bunsen burner and a few flasks. The countertop had been moved so that the quarantine room -- which had a large desk with a sizeable desktop computer perched on it inside -- was nearly blocked off, with only a foot or so in between. While the counter on the other side of the room remained untouched, it did have a small desk sitting in its inner corner with a desktop computer sitting on it, and the same could be said for the moved counter. My eyes moved to the ceiling, where a triangle-shaped structure hung, its surface made of plastic, and my mouth hung open for a few moments.
Olive was chewing Mandy out so badly I could visibly see far more than just her cheeks turning red. Oscar was admiring the changed scenery, roaming about the Lab and smiling.
And Mandy...looked completely innocent.
With a smaller version of her usual cat smile on her face, pony ears folded downwards, and brows slightly furrowed, she listened to Olive berate her about changing the Lab's furniture and features without consulting anyone first. I hardly heard the words, I was so shocked. A few minutes later, I regained my senses and tuned in to the conversation between Olive and Mandy.
And what I found out was that Mandy couldn't save her own butt in court if it meant even saving her most cherished friend.
She told Olive that she had rearranged the Lab because it looked so boring and plain and it made Rarity vomit sparkles one time that she swore wasn't an odd affliction (but really was -- sparkle barfle is real and serious). She then went on to justify her reasoning by saying that Oscar liked the new layout and he had a new desk now so he could feel more important than he already was.
I watched as Oscar, skinny as he was, try in vain to squeeze into the gap in between the counter and the door, and eventually get stuck in it. Instead of getting upset, however, he raised his hand and gave a thumbs-up and said that he could probably get himself out of this. Probably.
Ms. O came right then, asking about the situation.
And to say that she blew a fuse was an understatement.
...
She knocked out every bit of power to Headquarters with the howl she gave.
I distinctly remember her grabbing Mandy by the ear (her human ear, mind) and pulling her up to her office. I could swear Mandy actually started crying, begging for mercy and telling her boss that she hadn't even had enough time to fill out a form for organ donation and the healthcare was so bad in Toronto that what was in her piggy bank couldn't possibly pay for all the hospital expenses she would rack up. By the time I came back out, though, she was moving everything in the Lab back to its proper places herself, without any help.
Feeling pity for her, I paused my work and went over to her, asking her what she had to do. She told me that in addition to fixing the Lab, she had to clean the entirety of Headquarters for a week, give an open verbal apology to every Scientist at Precinct 13579, and serve as Ms. O's assistant for a week. No...she made a mistake. It was two weeks.
It was quite rare to see Mandy in such a dour state. Normally, she would be more than happy to clean and do stuff for Ms. O, but this time around she wasn't so keen on doing it. I chalked it up to her being forced to clean and do stuff for Ms. O this time around instead of doing it of her own accord, and offered to help reassemble the Lab at the very least, even though I knew it probably went against Ms. O's wishes. Still, she accepted, and together, she and I put it back together again. She didn't need any help with the apology or with serving Ms. O, but I accompanied her for the former, if only for the sake of research.
I don't really know if she learned any sort of lesson from what she did or not. But she hasn't tried to rearrange the Lab since, so she has that going for her, at the very least.
Entry 98.
Mandy's sleep habits have always been somewhat of a mystery. Not just to me, but to everyone. There are many "why's" that are presented when it comes to how she sleeps, what she dreams about, and how her sleep habits affect her health and her life, which can present us with a problem if she has a sleep-related issue she needs resolved.
One such occurrence happened just last week at the time of writing, as a matter of fact. And it was, to put it bluntly, a bit bizarre.
Me and the girls, along with Mandy, Otto, Ms. O and Olive, had gone over to Otto's house for a fun sleepover with friends. We had dinner together, watched a movie or two, and played some games. At one point, Otto had decided to put in one of his favorite video games, DreamRace, and invited Mandy to race him in one of the modes within it, aptly titled Kart Race. She eagerly agreed, and looked to be quite confident that she would win, citing that she had played the game before.
The first match in, it became clear that her confidence in herself had been sorely misplaced.
Otto decided to go with the Single Race option, and picked fifty laps as a good goal to reach. He also picked one of the Master courses, and for good reason -- he lapped Mandy at least twice, although I was barely keeping count, as I was busy with a heated game of Sorry, Could Not Resist between Olive, Fluttershy, Applejack, and myself. Still, I cheered Mandy on whenever I had some room to spare a peek.
As I picked up a card and prepared to move my pawn twelve spaces, the sound of snoring tickled my eardrums. I turned my head to look, and sure enough, Mandy was drooling on the controller, her head drooping.
Otto noticed, too. His eyes widened for a moment, and then a grin split his face as he continued playing.
It went away within seconds when he saw just what his opponent was about to do.
By this point, Applejack, Olive and Fluttershy had stopped the game to look. In spite of her slumber, Mandy continued to play the game like she hadn't fallen asleep at all, navigating her character through the course eagerly and dodging most of the items that were sent her way. If she knew she was winning, she didn't show it -- only kept on snoring and sleep-talking away.
Otto was so dumbfounded by the feat that he inadvertently slowed down and came to a complete stop, allowing Mandy to pass him and then some. She lapped him time after time, until he realized what was going on by the third lap and got back to it.
Fluttershy was the one who made the mistake of asking how, exactly, Mandy knew where she was going while she was asleep. No one bothered to answer her, of course. We all knew there was no defined answer for it.
The fiftieth lap was completed, and Mandy was the clear winner. I had thought she would have woken up right then and there. Maybe her body would slump downwards now that the work was done and she would sleep the same way most people would. But she had the palm of her hand still pushing the control stick forward, her drool beginning to form a small pool on the floor behind where her controller sat.
Being that Otto was still in shock from having lost to what had become a grave disadvantage, Applejack took the liberty of waking Mandy up with a well-placed hoof and a few firm shakes. It took a couple minutes for her to wake up, but when she did, it was with a terrible start. She knocked the controller towards the console as her body thrashed about, Applejack attempting to calm her down and telling her that she was fine and was in Otto's living room with her friends and family.
She blinked at Applejack a few times, then her head suddenly slumped on the floor in such a way that I had managed to discover just one more thing a human head could do -- that is, slightly bounce on the floor like a basketball. Olive was quick to shoot up from her seat and slide over to Mandy on her knees, nearly knocking over the SCNR board in the process. Luckily, Mandy was fine, and she promptly fell right back asleep. The sheer volume of her snores rattled Otto's game console so badly, it made the game display an error screen that caused him to hastily take the disc out and put it back into its case, then move the console to the table where it wouldn't get damaged any further.
As for my game, it suffered a similar fate. Mandy's leg twitched, causing her foot to knock into the leg of the table hard enough to send the table toppling backwards, along with the game board and all of the pieces, as well as the cards.
I still don't know whether that was on purpose or not. And yes, I'm still mad about it.
(A sidenote: upon waking up the next morning, she had no idea what had happened. When we explained the situation to her, she was surprised and profusely apologized. Quite odd indeed.)
Entry 102.
I happen to know for a fact that Mandy isn't the most graceful agent. She's fallen off of cliffs and gotten eaten by creatures and been zapped by villains more times than I can count on my hooves and that of everyone else's. And every time, she's remained alive by some sheer act of...well, I don't know what. Maybe by this world's tampering of physics and anatomy rules. I still have to do research on that, too.
One of the things she hasn't done, though, was get pricked by a cactus. At least, up until today.
As I was sitting at my desk, doing some paperwork, I heard a rather horrid scream come from within the Medical Bay upstairs, followed by some muffled words I couldn't quite understand because the door was closed. My curiosity piqued and my gut squirming with worry, I hoofed it upstairs to make sure Mandy was okay, and sure enough, there she was, standing in front of the halfpipe-shaped cot and trying hard not to cry as Dr. O approached her with a pair of large tweezers.
He picked the first needle out of her arm.
She began choking on her sobs as she tried to hold them in.
Words can't describe the noises that emanated from her as Dr. O kept on picking out needle after needle, everywhere from her head to her toes. For the more painful ones -- apparently, sore spots for her include both her tailbone and her tail bone -- I had the not-so-wonderful luxury of hearing that awful scream again, complete with some thrashing about that threw some of the more loosely-lodged needles fly off of her. One managed to stick into my chest before I could even put up a protective shield.
Eventually, Dr. O had to sedate her with some kind of a pill. It didn't put her to sleep, but it did calm her down enough to where he could pull out the rest of the needles with my help and without her reacting in pain. After that, he thanked me and sent us on our way.
We didn't even get to Mandy's desk before she collapsed on my back. She looked completely blissed out, as though she had just received a dose of laughing gas. About a minute later, she had fallen asleep, and I was forced to take her all the way to the Bedroom.
My back is still sore. The pain medication Rarity gave me hasn't kicked in yet. I don't know how Mandy can carry people and ponies on her back, but I know that I sure can't carry anyone on mine.
That reminds me. Better make a note to research that, too. Pinkie was enough of an anomaly to study, but Mandy is arguably worse. My head is beginning to hurt, now. I think I should get back to work. Paperwork always tends to make my mind clear.
Entry 130.
Is it really the 130th entry? I've been losing track of these.
Anyway, today I decided to try what is known as a word association game with Mandy. I wanted to test her smarts, mostly, but I also wanted to do it for fun, just to gauge her reactions.
So, with the element of surprise backing me up, I made my way up to her and began.
"Water!"
Mandy turned in her chair. Blinked once. Tilted her head in confusion. And then said, "Hiya, Twi-ya! I'm not thirsty right now, but thanks! Unless you're thirsty? You want me to get you some water? I'd suggest juice or soda or something but water's really really healthy for you so water it is!"
I stared. "Um...n-no...no thank you. I'm not thirsty either."
It took me a moment to collect my bearings, and even though it was a short moment, I could feel Mandy staring at me inquisitively.
"Well, if you've got nothin' more to say then I'm gonna go back to work and-"
"Kumquat!"
"Oh! You want a toy! A-a veggie! Wait, no...uh..." Mandy faltered. "What's a kumquat? Is it like an odd creature?"
Something inside of me told me to stop trying, because Mandy didn't get the point of what we were doing. But I knew that she wasn't as dumb as a brick, and thought that she would get the hang of what we were doing eventually.
Word after word I threw at her, only to receive questions or explanations or non-sequiturs in response. My mane and tail were getting frazzled, but Mandy was treating this like it was some sort of game.
"Okay, last word..." I said, my voice shaking. "Antidisestablishmentarianism."
"Oh, it's that word Oprah used when she was telling off her old boss in the alternate timeline where Odd Todd ruled over Odd Squad!" Mandy tapped her chin. "She chopped off the 'arianism', though...oh, oh, the longest word is actually...uh..." I could see her pony ears swivel about as she went into deep thought. "Pneumo...um...pneumo-something. I forget."
Feeling exasperated and exhausted, I buried my face in my hooves. I needed to tell her the truth. "Mandy, we're playing a word association game."
"Ooooh, a word association game! I love those! It's like on that game show Momma always watches whenever she's feeling reeeeeally reeeeeally bored and needs a bit of a thrill!"
"You were supposed to respond to my words with similar words."
"I did that! The pneumo thing!"
"We went through..." I paused, realizing that I lost track of how many words I had given her. Thus, I was forced to give an estimate. "...seventy words, and you barely passed!"
"More than that, actually. A hundred and fifty-one."
"Exactly?"
"Yes. I counted."
I stared at Mandy for what felt like hours, until I gave a resigned sigh. "All right. Fine. Have it your way." I slowly got to my hooves and began to head for my desk. "I've gathered enough research for now, anyway."
"Gathered enough research for what?"
My eyes widened. "Ah...n-nothing. Forget I said anything."
"All righty-tighty-whitey! Consider it forgotten, sister!" Mandy said, performing a salute before turning back around in her chair.
It became clear to me that I was, perhaps, on the right track with using psychology to figure out how Mandy and her brain worked. But word association tests certainly were not the right way to go, and so, I mentally crossed it off of my list and resolved to try again tomorrow with another test.
So, as you can see from these five entries that I have hoof-picked from my research collection, Homo Ponicus is a creature that is bizarre, unpredictable, and unstable. But within my entries, I have come to realize something that is very important, not just about Homo Ponicus as a species but about Mandy.
She is only just a child.
I am a full-grown mare, whereas Mandy is only merely 11 years old. So it stands to reason that she would act the way she does. No one can tell whether she will still have the same silly and carefree attitude long into adulthood, assuming she actually does grow up (immortality in this world is yet another topic I must research). Still, in spite of this, I am dedicated to gathering as much research I can about the adolescent stage of Homo Ponicus's life cycle. So far, I have gathered up over 200 entries and counting, though for the purpose of not making this essay any longer, I will not include most of them here and will instead wrap this up with my final thoughts on the matter.
There are many species that populate Earth, both yours and mine. Some are fantastical, others whimsical, and plenty more are downright impossible by biological standards. My findings thus far have concluded that Homo Ponicus certainly doesn't belong with the "normal" animals such as jaguars, deer, or opossum, nor does it belong with the odd creatures such as Gornum, Tiggles, or Spider-Cats. Rather, it is a unique species all its own, with its own set of behaviors to discover that are not defined by any single pattern in the way that lions frequently chase down gazelles or birds of prey snatch up fish from the sea. Mandy, as the being who brought the species into existence, either makes her own food, buys fast food, or decides to bite the arms or legs of a human or a pony.
Whoops. I'm kind of getting off track, aren't I? I'll admit, I'm a bit hungry right now. Sorry. Back to it.
Perhaps Mandy is the only one of her species that will ever exist as long as this Earth still remains a planet. It's that possibility that partly drives me to research all I can about her, even though I tried to do the same thing with Pinkie and eventually learned to just accept her way of thinking for all it was worth. Still, Mandy is different from Pinkie in many ways, and just like with how she became an alicorn, those differences would take all day just to discuss at length.
In addition, I know Mandy pretty well as she exists on Earth, but I have no idea what life she will lead in Equestria, if traveling there ever comes to pass. She is part pony, but Odd Squad has forbidden her from going through the portal that connects the two worlds because of the risks it poses, to both her and the two worlds themselves. I myself have not performed my own research on the portal yet, but I really should do so soon. It would be interesting to see how traveling through the portal and roaming in Equestria affects the Homo Ponicus species. For now, though, I will be studying Mandy on Earth for as long as I need to, as I feel I have only skimmed the surface of what she is. I may have grown up with her, but the transformation she went through has changed her in ways that I don't know yet, ways that even not even she herself knows yet.
Regardless, I hope this doesn't sway you from meeting and befriending Mandy. Even in spite of her eccentricity and mannerisms, she is a sweet and kindhearted being at heart, always willing to help others in need and always fighting to protect Earth from all sorts of oddities. She has wonderful friends and family alike, all willing to support her in her endeavors -- myself included, of course. I look forward to seeing just how much she'll grow, and seeing just how much potential she has hidden inside of her, just waiting to be unlocked. I think you and I can both agree that it's more than we think.
But I can say one thing for certain.
She, and her species, will always continue to surprise me.