[AiE] Misconceptions


                                            Prompt:

                                            The residents of P0nyville have convinced themselves that Anon is mentally handicapped. Nothing he says or does can convince them otherwise. They try and pair him up with Derpy because they think it would be "cute". Turns out Derpy isn't mentally handicapped either, just has a wonky eye and a speech impediment. They become friends because it's really the rest of the town that's retarded.


                                            >”Anon, you… can’t sing?”

                                            “Nope. Humming along is fine, but when I open my mouth to sing along, everything is out of tune. I tried to fix it, but nothing worked. I just let it be.”

                                            >”But Anon, that’s just not right. Everyone has the ability to sing. Not being able to is just, there’s something wrong with you.”


                                            >That was the conversation you had with Twilight after not taking part in a song about buying groceries. Turns out not being able to sing in this magical world is grounds for some form of mental disability. It’s just not natural to them.

                                            >You were the second pon-- person in Ponyville to be considered mentally handicapped.

                                            >Because of this, Twilight set you up to hang out with the mailmare, Derpy.

                                            >Despite never having met her before, Twilight though this would be a great idea.

                                            >Her reasoning was that you would ‘Get along due to your similarities.’

                                            >Bullshit, she probably thought that the two retards would get along well enough that the rest of the town wouldn’t have to bother.


                                            >Walking into the residential district with Twilight by your side, you notice ponies giving you odd glances and muttering to each other. Word travels fast in such a small town.

                                            >”Now Anon, be nice to Derpy. Don’t say anything that might upset her. She’s probably very easy to set off. That’s why everyone treats her nicely.”

                                            ”I get it, I get it. Be nice, have some tea, and then be off. Why do I have to do this again?”

                                            >”Um, well, you see… ah! We’re here.”

                                            >For being considered not the brightest bulb, her house looks very well kept. The mailbox is a bit dinged up, but the rest of the house seems normal. Decently tended garden, green lawn.

                                            >”Ditzy, we’re here,” Twilight says after knocking on the door.

                                            >You hear a muffled “I’m coming” from inside the house, followed by the sound of hooves getting ever so louder. You’re not sure what to expect, but if she’s anything like you think, this is going to be a long afternoon.

                                            >The door opens, and you’re surprised by what you see.


                                            >Instead of some oily, unkempt mare, she looks completely normal. Well, as normal as magical horseland gets.

                                            >She has a blond mane with a light grey coat. Her cuite mark is a trio of... bubbles? How does that classify as being a mailmare?

                                            >Then you get to her eyes. They have a nice, golden color to them, but that’s where the normality ended. Instead of looking straight ahead, they’re crossed.

                                            >Despite getting used to social expectations in Equestria, you’ve never had to deal with crossed eyes before. They still struck you as odd. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

                                            >But being rude outright will get you nowhere fast, so you clear your throat, in an attempt to introduce yourself.


                                            >Before you can start, though, Twilight interjects.

                                            >“Good afternoon Derpy, this is Anon. Since he doesn’t like to actively make friends, I thought that you two could hang out and get to know each other.”

                                            >Bitch, thinks you’re too dumb to introduce yourself.

                                            >Derpy looks like she’s about to start, and gets more out than you could.

                                            >“It’s nice to-”

                                            >Just as she did with you, Twilight cuts Derpy off, intent on introducing both parties without interaction between each other.

                                            >“And Anon, this is Derpy. She’s a really nice mare, so try and be nice to her, okay?”

                                            “Fine.”

                                            >“Well, have fun you two.” And with that, Twilight is off, going to do whatever it is she does whenever she isn’t acting like she knows everything. Probably reading. She’s always reading.


                                            Turning to Derpy, you start to talk, but she interrupts you before you can get a word out.

                                            >“So, what’s wrong with you? Talk funny? Have wonky eyes? Pissed yourself once?” she says with a bit of scorn in her voice.

                                            >Wow, that was a bit harsh, but considering what she must go through everyday, she must be pretty sick of this treatment.

                                            >But two can play at that game.

                                            “Nope, can’t sing,” you reply. “Apparently that makes you dumb as a rock, despite showing everyone else you’re smarter than most of them.”

                                            >Now it’s her turn to be taken aback, and with fair reason.

                                            >”Can’t… sing? But Anon, that’s…”

                                            “Just not right? That’s exactly what Twi said. Thing is, when you live in a world where singing doesn’t get you much unless you’re insanely good at it, you don’t care that much about not singing.”

                                            >“I guess that makes sense. Did you tell her that?”

                                            “I tried, but she wrote it off as me trying to ‘fit in.’ When she thinks she’s right, you can’t tell her otherwise.”

                                            >”I know that all too well. Why don’t you come inside? Talking while sitting down will probably be more comfortable.”


                                            Some time later:


                                            “...So I’m just minding my own business, cooking some food, when Twilight bursts into my house, going on about how I can’t cook for myself, and that it’s too dangerous, and that I might burn myself.”

                                            >”What did you tell her?”

                                            “I told her to fuck off. I’d cooked for her all the time before, but now that’s all different, apparently.”

                                            >”Yikes. Bet that gets annoying.”

                                            “You know as well as I do.”

                                            >Pausing, you experience a realization.

                                            You know, come to think of it, we’re both just like everyone else, but just because we’re different, we’re treated like we can’t even open a door.”

                                            >”You’re right. Actually, this has happened before. You know how Zecora was treated before we learned she was alright? That’s kind of what’s happening here, except whereas ponies would hide, they treat us like we’re ticking time bombs.”

                                            >Derpy seems to be catching on to what you’re saying.

                                            “So what you’re saying is, we’re not the one with problems…”

                                            >”...it’s everyone else who does.”

                                            >After a moment of silence, both of you start chuckling, wondering how you didn’t notice this sooner.

                                            After you compose yourself, you continue.

                                            “I guess so. It’s you and me against the world, Derpy.”

                                            >”Please, just call me Ditzy. Derpy is what everyone else calls me.”

                                            >She sounded a bit sad there; must suck not being called your own prefered name.

                                            “Ok, then. Want to hang out again sometime? Having someone to talk to for more than five minutes has been nice.”

                                            >”Sure. Want to hang out at the same time next week? Maybe we could bake some muffins, this time without any disruptions. Hopefully.”

                                            “Sounds good. What kind we talking here?”

                                            >“How about Banana Chocolate Chip? Those are my favorite.”

                                            “Banana Choco is fine. It’s a plan, then. Not like I have anything else going on, since I can’t do anything without anyone going bonkers, thinking I’ll hurt myself,” you say, throwing your arms in the air.

                                            >As soon as you finish, a knocking comes at the door.

                                            >”Anon? It’s time to go home.”

                                            “Great, there’s Purple Autism now. See ya around, Ditzy.”

                                            >”Bye Anon, see you next week.”


                                            >After closing the door, you start heading home, Twilight tailing you the whole way.

                                            >“So, did you guys have a good time?”

                                            “Actually, yes, I did. I had a much better time hanging out with Ditzy than hanging out with most of you now.”

                                            >“Aw, come on, Anon, that’s just silly.”

                                            >Guess Twilight just ignores whatever bad things you say about her now. You obviously don’t mean it, you can’t really control what you say.

                                            >“So, do you have any more plans scheduled with her?”

                                            “Yes, we’re hanging out in a week. She told me she makes a mean batch of Banana Chocolate Chip Muffins, so we’ll be doing that then.”

                                            >You hear her snort in agitation. What’s up with her? She wants you to make friends, and when you want to hang out next, she disapproves?

                                            >“You want to cook when you almost burned down the library last time? If you’re going to be that way, fine. I’m going to send someone over with you, though. Maybe I’ll ask Pinkie.”

                                            >Out of all the things Twilight could suggest, that was probably one of the best one.

                                            >Even after this whole thing happened, Pinkie never treated you any differently. Something about ‘Friends shouldn’t treat friends differently, even though others think they are.’

                                            >It was surprisingly deep, coming from her.

                                            >Guess you couldn’t complain if it was Pinkie, even though Twilight was being rude as hell.

                                            “Eh, ok. Hope Pinkie can bring some ingredients. You won’t let me go to the market without a watchpony.”

                                            >And with that, you head home, waiting for next week to come around.

                                            >After all, making a new friend isn’t all bad.