The Best Day Ever (WIP)


                                            >You never thought just looking at the horizon would take so much getting used to.

                                            >Especially after over a year.

                                            >But life has a way of surprising you.

                                            >And surprise you it did.

                                            >Well, when it comes to describing how you felt after being transported from your humble life on Earth to a pastel-colored land called Equestria filled with magical talking ponies, “surprised” would be the understatement of the century.

                                            >The powers that be didn’t even have the decency to turn you into a magical pony like every other citizen of Equestria.

                                            >You were dropped into this world as the lone human.

                                            >If you were a furry, you would have been devastated by this great big cosmic accident.

                                            >You managed to get some light shining on the greatest mystery of your life.

                                            >Thanks to a kind yellow pegasus named Fluttershy, you were introduced to her friend Twilight Sparkle: princess of friendship (whatever that means) and “the smartest pony around”.

                                            >It was Twilight that explained the whole deal to you: some villainous pony named Riptide got ahold of a magical artifact that could open portals to other dimensions.

                                            >Riptide tried to open a portal to a dimension containing an army of a million minions, but they apparently weren’t as adept in the magical arts as Twilight, and the attempt resulted in space-time distortions rippling out throughout the multiverse.

                                            >While Twilight and her friends did manage to defeat Riptide, one of those space-time distortions caused your home universe and the universe of Equestria to “overlap” just enough for you to slip from your home world to this new world like a fish being transferred to a new bowl.

                                            >Twilight swore to you that she would do anything to get you back to your home world.

                                            >She pinkie promised you that she would send you home.

                                            >You found it to be an incredibly cheesy gesture, but it was serious business for her.

                                            >That was over a year ago.

                                            >Over a year of asking what kind of progress she’s made on sending you back home.

                                            >Over a year of being told she’s getting closer to a breakthrough, approaching a finish line that never seems to get closer.

                                            >Over a year of clinging onto the hope of going back to the world you belong in.

                                            >You don’t want to sound ungrateful, and there are certainly worse worlds to have been isekai’d to, but you can’t wait for the day you get to leave Equestria.

                                            >You don’t belong here.

                                            >You’re an alien.

                                            >A gargantuan hairless ape in a world of small colorful ponies.

                                            >The ponies are generally nice to you, but it’s impossible to ignore how they look at you.

                                            >Their eyes are so big, big enough to carry a million unspoken feelings.

                                            >Curiosity, intrigue, apprehension, amusement, disgust, and so many other things.

                                            >At least you have the horizon.

                                            >The earth, the sun, and the sky are still a constant in this world.

                                            >You’re told the sun rises and sets because of an all-powerful alicorn named Princess Celestia who rules all of Equestria, but what really matters is the sun still rises and sets.


                                            >In your spare time, you can sit on the grass and just stare into the horizon, grounding yourself in some kind of normalcy.

                                            >In between all the unicorns and pegasi, you still have the horizon.

                                            >”Is everything okay, Anon?”

                                            >Fluttershy’s gentle voice brings you back to the present moment.

                                            >You agreed to help her build birdhouses after a bad thunderstorm destroyed one of the trees that so many of her bird friends called home.

                                            >You nod and refocus your attention on the mostly-assembled birdhouse on your lap.

                                            “Yeah, just taking a bit of a breather.” You answer her, turning to face her.

                                            >Fluttershy gives you a smile as she sits down beside you.

                                            >”That’s good! You’ve been working so hard today, it’s important you take a breather.” She says to you.

                                            >Fluttershy is one of the ponies you’ve gotten to know over the past year and change.

                                            >She was actually the first to get to know you after ended up in Equestria.

                                            >She looked past your alien physique and introduced you to her friends.

                                            >Thanks to her, you’ve found enough work to make a humble living for yourself.

                                            >But it’s temporary at the end of the day.

                                            “This isn’t actually super hard work for me, I could stay up all night making birdhouses if you want.” You jokingly offer with a small smile.

                                            >”Oh, no, I would never ask you to do that!” Fluttershy hastily assures you.

                                            >You gently laugh and add the finishing touches to your current birdhouse and present it to Fluttershy.

                                            “You sure? Because I’m on a roll here. If you want your cottage expanded, now’s the time to ask.” You teasingly offer.

                                            >Fluttershy gratefully accepts the birdhouse and carefully holds it in her hooves.

                                            >”You’ve done more than I could have asked of you today, Anon. Thanks to you, all our little bird friends will have a nice, safe place to sleep tonight!” Fluttershy beams, then flapping over to her cottage to place your latest birdhouse by the thirty other birdhouses you’ve built today.

                                            >Above her cottage, countless birds covered with feathers of all colors anxiously watch her manage the birdhouses, eager to move into their new homes.

                                            “I can hardly accept all the praise, Flutters. You’re the one who made all of them so pretty.” You remind her, gathering your tools and getting up from the grass.

                                            >Fluttershy’s been hard at work painting the birdhouses you build, she made sure each and every home has a unique color and decoration that makes each and every one of them beautiful in their own way.

                                            >Butterflies, flowers, suns and clouds, and other cutesy, outdoorsy things painted onto gentle, pastel colors.

                                            >It’s amazing how nicely she can paint when she’s holding the paintbrush with her mouth.

                                            >Fluttershy gently blushes as she gets herself situated before the bare wood birdhouse with a freshly prepared set of paints.

                                            >”Whatever the case may be, I can’t thank you enough for all your help today. Would you like some tea while I finish painting?” Fluttershy offers.


                                            >You stuff your tools into your pockets as you stand up, groaning a bit as you stretch out your body.

                                            “Wish I could stay, Twilight said she needed to see me.” You say to her.

                                            >Fluttershy perks up at this little bit of news.

                                            >”Do you think she’s found a way to get you back to your world?” She asks you.

                                            >The flower of hope that’s been growing in you all day begins to blossom upon hearing someone else say it.

                                            >It’s reassurance that what you’re hoping for is actually possible.

                                            >Over a year of waiting is about to come to an end.

                                            “I hope so!” You answer, feeling giddy just saying so.

                                            >”That would be so wonderful!” Fluttershy excitedly agrees, but you detect a hint of sadness in her voice.

                                            >”Oh, but the little birds would miss you terribly after you’ve helped give them a new home…” She adds, looking up at the birds nestled together on her roof.

                                            >She’s right, the birds do look upon you with sad expressions like they can understand your conversation.

                                            >It’s a sight that plucks at your heartstrings, but your heart’s soaring too high to have its chords cut.

                                            “I’m not worried about them. With somepony as caring as you looking out for them, they’ve got nothing to worry about!” You assure Fluttershy with a smile.

                                            >Somepony.

                                            >It’s a bit of vernacular you picked up on.

                                            >Everybody- ah, everypony in town uses speech like that, you do what you can to fit in.

                                            >Fluttershy gently nods in agreement, but she’s still not entirely convinced by your stance.

                                            >She looks to you hopefully.

                                            >”Well… when- I mean, if you get to go home, will you stay a little longer to say goodbye to everypony?”

                                            >You can’t imagine how many would care to see you go.

                                            >You’ve tried to minimize your presence in Ponyville, but you couldn’t avoid making some connections.

                                            >They’re really big on “power of friendship” stuff here.

                                            >No doubt thanks to Twilight Sparkle, princess of friendship.

                                            >To answer Fluttershy’s question, you give her a gentle nod and matching smile.

                                            “Of course I will, Fluttershy. I owe it to you and your friends after everything you’ve all done for me.”

                                            >”They’re your friends too, Anon!” Fluttershy insists, clutching the birdhouse tighter.

                                            >You chuckle a little and gently nod.

                                            “Right, right. Anyway, I really should be going. Rain check on the tea?”

                                            >”It’s a deal!” Fluttershy happily agrees.

                                            >Smiling brighter at her and with a flutter in your heart, you dust off your clothes and wave goodbye to Fluttershy.

                                            “See you later, Fluttershy!”

                                            >”See you later, Anon!” She happily bids farewell to you, turning her attention to painting the birdhouse as you turn to leave.


                                            >The stroll back to Ponyville is a bit of a hike for you.

                                            >Fluttershy lives on the outskirts of town, just like you.

                                            >Likely for similar reasons, too.

                                            >The warmth you felt when working with Fluttershy fades more the further you venture from her home.

                                            >You got into the habit of taking the long path to Twilight’s castle whenever you went to visit her.

                                            >Walking straight through town draws too much attention to you.

                                            >Even though you’ve lived within the town limits of Ponyville for over a year, some of the townsfolk never got used to seeing you.

                                            >You can’t blame them.

                                            >Whenever you have to venture into town to stock up on food, you always feel like a lumbering oaf in the midst of all those ponies.

                                            >Always having to hunch down to talk to the ponies behind the counter doesn’t make you feel any smaller.

                                            >There’s always another pair of friends sharing hushed conversations while looking at you, or another young pony pointing you out to their parents.

                                            >Well, not for much longer.

                                            >Twilight had to have found a way to send you back home.

                                            >Back to where you belong.

                                            >A world filled with humans, just like you.

                                            >With doors and buildings built for humans.

                                            >You walk with more pep in your step.

                                            >Twilight’s magnificent crystal treehouse that she calls a home beckons you forth.

                                            >Somehow, within its walls lies your ticket back home.

                                            >You can hardly wait.

                                            >Your walk turns to a brisk stride as you let the excitement you feel in your heart spread to the rest of your body.

                                            >Then your brisk stride turns to a jog.

                                            >You don’t care about how you may look to the ponies around town, what they think won’t matter soon.

                                            >Before you know it, you’re standing right before the golden doors of Twilight’s castle.

                                            >Twilight’s letter said you could come right in once you get there, so you do just that.

                                            >Pushing past the doors, you’re met with a blast of cool air circulating within the castle walls, inviting you in.

                                            >There’s hope in the air, you can smell it.

                                            >That hope is laced with something tantalizing: the scent of home.

                                            >It’s impossible to describe, but something about the air lingering around you reminds you of home.

                                            >No more waiting, let’s go home.

                                            “Hey, Twilight? I made it! What did you wanna talk about?” You call out to her, hoping she’s nearby.

                                            >You hear some rustling nearby like you caught someone off guard, which you quickly recognize as Twilight’s faithful aid: Spike.

                                            >Spike’s lying on a nearby cushion with his face buried in a book as he turns to face you.

                                            >”Huh? Oh, hey, Anon. Twilight’s just upstairs, I’ll let her know you’re here.” He says to you, using some of his magic to send Twilight a note before going right back to his book.

                                            >His book is something you recognize: the story of Superman, written by Anon Y. Mous.


                                            >That’s how you made your humble living in between helping out ponies like Fluttershy: writing books for stories you’ve known all your life from your time in your home world.

                                            >You’ve written plenty of books, telling the stories of the Star Wars, the Power Rangers, the Legend of Zelda, and many more.

                                            >Ponies kept buying them, but you have a sneaking suspicion that they’re not THAT enthralled by your retellings.

                                            >It’s likely just the novelty of having a story from another world that gets them to spend their bits on your work.

                                            >You get paid, that’s what matters most.

                                            “You know, I’m struggling to remember a time when I’ve come here and you weren’t reading that book. I’m amazed you haven’t gotten tired of it yet.” You remark to the baby dragon.

                                            >”I’ll never get tired of this book! Superman’s so cool!” Spike gushes, looking up at you with excitement.

                                            >The little guy’s happiness is really infectious, as evidenced by how you’re smiling along with him.

                                            “Yeah, he is! He’s one of my favorites!”

                                            >Spike readjusts himself on the cushion, redirecting his full attention to the written words before him.

                                            >”No bad guys can ever stand a chance against Superman! He’s way too strong and tough to ever be beat!”

                                            “But you’re forgetting Superman’s true power: his heart.” You remind Spike.

                                            >Spike looks up from his book to give you a confused look.

                                            >”What do you mean?”

                                            >You step beside his cushion to talk more directly.

                                            “Where I’m from, power of all kinds has been wielded by humans of all kinds. And some of those humans were truly, truly evil. What makes Superman such a great hero is how he inspires all of us to be the best versions of ourselves. Even though he born on the planet Krypton and even though he’s so drastically different from humans like me, he’s a relentlessly good person. Being a hero isn’t just fighting bad guys, sometimes being a hero is helping someone when they need help. Because that’s what a hero really is: someone who uses what they’ve been given to do the right thing, solely because it’s the right thing to do.”

                                            >Spike blinks, then gazes down at his Superman book in amazement.

                                            >”Woah… I never thought of it like that.”

                                            “I mean, just look at General Zod! He was given all the same powers as Superman, and I’m sure his henchmen thought he was being heroic when he was threatening to destroy the world to bring back Krypton, but Superman was the real hero because he was always willing to fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.”

                                            >”I get what you mean now!” Spike excitedly says to you.

                                            >”Like, Hum Drum is just as much of a hero as Superman is!”

                                            >If only you could have introduced the concept of superheroes to Equestria.

                                            >But the Power Ponies beat you to it by several years.

                                            “Yeah, exactly!”


                                            >”Anon?”

                                            >Twilight Sparkle’s voice draws your attention away from your riveting conversation with Spike.

                                            >This is it!

                                            >Your ticket home is moments away!

                                            >You turn around to face the princess of friendship, bowing a little because you’re in such a good mood.

                                            “Hey, Twilight! You wanted to see me?”

                                            >Twilight smiles at you in return, but it looks strangely… forced.

                                            >”Yes, um… follow me, please.” She instructs you, leading you up a set of stairs.

                                            >Her tone doesn’t bode well.

                                            >Even in another dimension, it’s a tone you know all too well.

                                            >That’s the sound of someone preparing to deliver bad news.

                                            >But whatever the truth may be, you’ll know what the deal is soon.

                                            >”Catch you later, Anon!” Spike waves you goodbye, burying himself deep in his Superman book again.

                                            “Yeah, see you later.” You say to him before following Twilight up the stairs.

                                            >The staircase leads you to the throne room, where seven stunning crystal thrones, each adorned with the “cutie marks” of Twilight and her friends, surround a circular table.

                                            >The windows have been shuttered, leaving you alone with Twilight, who you find standing beside what looks like the magical artifact that Riptide tried to use to open a portal to another dimension.

                                            >The thing that got you here to begin with.

                                            >Twilight sighs as she begins to speak.

                                            >”Anon…”

                                            “...Yes, Twilight?” You ask her, feeling the shadow of dread loom over you.

                                            >Twilight is struggling to look at you, there’s pain written all over her.

                                            >”...I spent all week trying to figure out how to say this, but I think the best way to do that is to just say it…”

                                            >Twilight opens her mouth, but it takes another moment for her to actually speak.

                                            >”...I’ll never be able to send you back to your home world.”

                                            >...

                                            >Time stops around you.

                                            >Your blood runs cold.

                                            >Your heart sinks.

                                            >Twilight’s words echo in your mind.

                                            >No.

                                            >She couldn’t have said that.

                                            >You had to have misheard her.

                                            >That has to be it.

                                            “...What?” You manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

                                            >Twilight shrinks back in shame, her ears drooping and her head hanging low.

                                            >”Y-You see, I thought even though your home world doesn’t have any magic for the Dimensional Scepter to connect to, we could open a portal there by honing in on your quantum resonance, but the thing about the multiverse is that… it’s infinite.”

                                            >No.

                                            >”I mean, even if we narrow down your precise quantum resonance down to a million digits, infinity divided by a million is still infinity…”

                                            >No.

                                            >”A-And even if we figure out which universe out of the infinite in existence there are, there’s still an entire universe to open a portal to! If we’re off in our calculations, even by a tiny amount, you could end up a mile underground, or on the surface of the sun!”

                                            >No.

                                            >No, please, no.

                                            >This can’t be happening.


                                            >Your head starts to feel lighter.

                                            >The cool air around you bites at your exposed skin like millions of vicious ticks.

                                            >The darkness of the shadows cast by the faint light peeking through the shuttered windows appears as an impossibly black void.

                                            >And you…

                                            >You feel so lanky.

                                            >So strange.

                                            >So alien.

                                            “But… you promised.” You manage to say, your bottom lip quivering a little at the effort.

                                            >Twilight winces upon hearing her pinkie promise invoked, but she forces herself to main eye contact and not retreat in shame.

                                            >”I know, I…”

                                            >Twilight hangs her head low, casting her gaze down on the floor and scraping at the polished tiles with her hoof.

                                            >After a moment of suffocating silence, Twilight looks back up at you.

                                            >”...I’m really sorry, Anon.”

                                            >Now her lips are quivering.

                                            >Tears are forming in her eyes, threatening to spill out at any moment.

                                            >And you’re probably not far behind.

                                            >You don’t know what to think, what to feel.

                                            >This entire world just came crashing down around you.

                                            >You take a shaky step back, glancing around the throne room.

                                            >These crystal pillars and arches, you see them for what they are.

                                            >Bars in a cage.

                                            >You’re trapped.

                                            >Trapped in Equestria.

                                            >As far away from home as you possibly could be.

                                            >Twilight takes a nervous step towards you.

                                            >She wants to say something, but she doesn’t know what.

                                            >The two of you just stand in silence, choking on the emotion of the moment.

                                            >You stand tall.

                                            >Freakishly tall.

                                            >You and your gangly limbs, your gnarled fingers, your ape-like body covered with clothes and scant body hair.

                                            >You want to sit down, but none of the thrones fit you, like it’s some kind of cosmic punchline.

                                            >”...Do you wanna talk about it?” Twilight offers you, unsure of what else to do.

                                            >Then, something comes over you.

                                            >Numbness.

                                            >You mentally space out from the present moment and step back, shaking your head.

                                            “No, I’ll be fine.”


                                            >”Are you sure? I’m one hundred percent here if you want to talk about what you’re feeling.” Twilight softly insists.

                                            “Yes. I’m sure.”

                                            >Like a zombie, you turn around and descend the stairs back down to the entrance of Twilight’s castle.

                                            >The colors around you fade together, like you’re walking in a dream.

                                            >You barely register your motions, acting on autopilot.

                                            >You can hear Twilight start to follow you, but then she stops at the top of the stairway.

                                            >You shamble past Spike, who peeks up from his Superman book to notice you.

                                            >”How’d it go?” He asks you.

                                            >Superman.

                                            >The only things you got to bring with you to this world full of ponies: intangible stories.

                                            “Mm.” You answer, not breaking your weak pace.

                                            >Spike says something, but you don’t hear it.

                                            >You push aside the doors and step outside to see the town of Ponyville.

                                            >Then you stop.

                                            >You just stand there and gaze out at the small, tight-knit community.

                                            >You’ve never felt farther away from it all.

                                            >Each house, so familiar in its architecture, yet undeniably foreign.

                                            >Each one housing a pony or two, all with their own story.

                                            >All of them so far away from you.

                                            >So unlike you.

                                            >None of them will ever be like you.

                                            >In a world of square holes, you’re a round peg.

                                            >You feel the urge to cry, you feel the burning pain of homesickness, but you don’t have it in you to cry.

                                            >All you can do is stand there and look out at the town of Ponyville, the town you’re condemned to spend the rest of your life in.

                                            >The rest of your life as an alien.

                                            >At least you still have the horizon.


                                            >You make it back to your cottage through muscle memory alone.

                                            >Your eyesight is blurred and hazy.

                                            >None of the cheery colors and shapes of Ponyville register to you, it’s all a blur.

                                            >Shapes and faint colors fade in and out of vision as you drag your feet across the dirt to get to your “home”.

                                            >Maybe some of the things in your field of view are ponies, you don’t know.

                                            >Maybe they’re talking to or about you, you don’t know.

                                            >All you can hear is the blood rushing through your ears.

                                            >Between that, a faint ringing.

                                            >But when you focus some effort into listening closer, you hear Twilight’s voice.

                                            >You hear Twilight’s voice repeating that one damn sentence.

                                            >”I’ll never be able to send you back to your home world.”

                                            >Sticks and stones, your ass.

                                            >Those words ruined you.

                                            >One sentence was all it took to completely crush every hope you hold.

                                            >Hope was all you had.

                                            >Between all the lingering gazes at your freakish body and awkward contortion you’ve done to make a laughable effort at fitting in, you had hope.

                                            >And now, nothing.

                                            >Your home is gone forever.

                                            >Your life is gone forever.

                                            >There is absolutely nothing you can do to change that.

                                            >Nothing anybody can do.

                                            >Oh, right, everyPONY.

                                            >Feelings fade in and out of your mind as hazily as the sights you can register.

                                            >You feel like you should be mad at Twilight for leading you on for so long, but you can’t bring yourself to raise your blood pressure at the thought of her.

                                            >She’s the smartest pony around, you’ve seen that proven true.

                                            >She knows far more about magic and portals and stuff than you possibly could.

                                            >If she says it’s impossible, how could you argue?

                                            >You register the sensation of pushing past your front door.

                                            >You don’t bother shutting it behind you.

                                            >You shamble over to your bed and collapse onto it.

                                            >You roll around onto your back and stare up at the ceiling.

                                            >A new feeling seeps into your being.

                                            >Offense.

                                            >Everything you can sense offends you.

                                            >How soft your bed is.

                                            >The paneling of the ceiling above you.

                                            >Even the taste of the air.

                                            >It’s all so close to being familiar.

                                            >So close to being what you’ve lived all your life taking for granted.

                                            >From a distance, it’s all normal.

                                            >Up close, though, it’s foreign.

                                            >Alien.

                                            >The bed is too soft.

                                            >The paneling is cut a little differently.

                                            >The air tastes a little too sweet.

                                            >It’s a world designed for ponies.

                                            >Not a human like you.

                                            >You feel like you’re intruding on this world.

                                            >This cutesy, pastel world, tainted by the presence of a dirty, scary human.

                                            >Your fingers sting when you think back to the times you curled them around a pencil or a spoon.

                                            >All the times the gentle breeze scraped against your exposed skin.

                                            >You stood in the path of the air when it was trying to get to where it was going.

                                            >Blocking its path like some idiot in New York City.

                                            >But there is no New York City here.

                                            >No New York City in this entire universe.


                                            >The lights around you fade.

                                            >Day slowly turns to night.

                                            >Darkness envelops you.

                                            >You can’t tell you if you sleep at all.

                                            >You can’t tell when your eyes are open or closed.

                                            >You’re pretty sure you don’t sleep.

                                            >The ponies you’ve gotten to know mentioned stuff about how Princess Luna watches over those who dream.

                                            >You’ve never met Princess Luna, but you have a feeling you’d know it’s her when you see her.

                                            >Eventually, night turns to day.

                                            >Light returns to your vision.

                                            >Just as blurry as it was yesterday.

                                            >You haven’t moved at all since you got onto your bed.

                                            >You can’t feel anything, not even hunger.

                                            >And yet, through the silence, through the solitude, that sentence haunts you.

                                            >”I’ll never be able to send you back to your home world.”

                                            >Why?

                                            >Why you?

                                            >What did you do to deserve this?

                                            >You were an asshole back home, fine.

                                            >A bitter, antisocial, misanthropic asshole who spent all his time outside work shitposting online.

                                            >But if this is merely a vision conjured by the ghost of Christmas future, you can only pray he lifts the curtain soon.

                                            >You’d do anything to go home.

                                            >You’d renounce all shitposting.

                                            >You’d dedicate your life to becoming a monk.

                                            >You’d go vegan.

                                            >Anything.

                                            >But as you silently cry out to the heavens, nothing answers your call.

                                            >Day turns to night once more.

                                            >Another questionably sleepless night comes and goes.

                                            >You lose track of time.

                                            >How many days have passed?

                                            >How long has it been since you’ve eaten?

                                            >There’s no telling.

                                            >You feel nothing.

                                            >Nothing but the once sentence Twilight said to you.

                                            >”Nonny? Are you in here?”

                                            >No, that’s not it.

                                            >Wait.

                                            >That wasn’t Twilight’s voice.

                                            >That was Pinkie Pie’s.

                                            >”Your door’s wide open so I figured it’s fair if I let myself in!”

                                            >Her painfully cheery voice cuts through the sleepless haze you’ve spent the past… however long in.

                                            >You can hear her cheerfully trot through your cottage trying to find you.

                                            >”Ooh, are we playing hide and seek? I love that game! You can’t hide forever, Nonny!”

                                            >Your other senses catch up to your hearing.

                                            >You blink a few times and regain focus on the room around you.

                                            >You sniff the air and detect the scent of freshly baked goods.

                                            >It wouldn’t be Pinkie Pie without baked goods.

                                            >”Hide all you want, I’m gonna find you!” She calls out to you again.

                                            >You don’t live in a big cottage, if she was really looking for you, she would have found you by now.

                                            >It seems like she’s intentionally drawing this out to “play along”.

                                            >Whatever.

                                            >She can do whatever she wants.

                                            >Her trotting turns to careful tip-toeing.

                                            >Or is it tip-hoofing.

                                            >Whatever it is she’s doing, she’s doing it.


                                            >Out of the corner of your eyes, you see your bedroom door open slowly.

                                            >Peering out behind it is Pinkie’s snout, sniffing around for you like a bloodhound.

                                            >She’s carrying a basket of muffins in her mouth.

                                            >The sight of those muffins gets your stomach rumbling, waking it from its coma.

                                            >How long has it been since you’ve last eaten?

                                            >The rest of Pinkie Pie appears from behind the door.

                                            >She inquisitively sniffs around before her eyes fall upon you.

                                            >Her eyes shoot open with glee when she sees you, dropping the basket of muffins on the floor.

                                            >”There you are, Nonny! Who’d’ve thought you’d be so good at hide and seek?” Pinkie excitedly greets you.

                                            >Either she somehow hasn’t noticed your current state or she’s choosing to ignore it.

                                            >You still don’t have it in you to speak, so you just groan.

                                            >”Gosh, I’ve been worried sick about you! I was going about my day today but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Then it hit me: I haven’t seen my favorite human in the whole wide world in so long!”

                                            >The only human in the whole wide world.

                                            >”At first, I thought it was some kind of weirdo coincidence that we haven’t ran into each other. I asked Applejack and Fluttershy if they had seen you, but they haven’t seen you around either! So I thought, maybe Rainbow Dash saw you recently! She’s always up in the sky, she sees all sorts of stuff! Like that time Rarity ate a whole tub of ice cream!”

                                            >”Anyway, I asked her like ‘Have you seen Nonny lately?’ and she was like ‘Nah, ain’t seen him around.’ and then I was like ‘Do you think something’s wrong with him?’ and then she was like ‘I dunno, probably’ so then I went ‘I gotta go find him!’ and then I did!”

                                            >You don’t respond.

                                            >You just keep looking up at the ceiling.

                                            >You’re really not in the mood for conversation.

                                            >Maybe if you ignore her she’ll go away.

                                            >”So what’s the dealio, Nonny-o? What’s got you so down in the dumps?” Pinkie asks you, stepping closer to you to investigate for herself.

                                            >Your immediate instinct is to say ‘nothing’ or ‘I’m fine’ like you did with Twilight, but you’re far too exhausted to do that.

                                            >Pinkie looms over you, peering at your alien human body.

                                            >”Are you sick? Because Twilight said it might be easier for you to get sick since you’re not from around here!”

                                            “Twilight says a lot of things.” You answer in a dry, raspy voice.

                                            >Huh, that didn’t take much effort.

                                            >It’s like those words were pushed through your lips by some being within you.

                                            >Pinkie backs off a bit, blinking in surprise.

                                            >”Anon… is something wrong?” She asks you in a softer voice.

                                            >Well, there’s no backing out of this now.

                                            >Might as well fess up.

                                            “...Twilight didn’t tell you, did she?” You ask her.

                                            >”Tell me what?”


                                            >You sigh.

                                            “...Twilight told me I’ll never be able to go home.”

                                            >Pinkie’s ears droop and her mane loses some of its poofiness as her expression falls.

                                            >”Oh, no…”

                                            >You nod a little.

                                            “Yeah. I’m trapped here for the rest of my life.”

                                            >”Don’t say that, Nonny! Living in Ponyville is tons of fun!” Pinkie insists.

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            “For you, maybe. You’re not an alien like me.”

                                            >”You mean like that hero guy you wrote about, Superman?”

                                            “If only. Superman didn’t land on a planet full of ponies.”

                                            >You turn your head to look out the window.

                                            >One of the perks of living on the outskirts of town is getting a nice view of the horizon.

                                            >Rolling rolls covered with trees, stretching out to who knows where.

                                            >There’ve been nights where you’ve lied awake in bed, hearing something of a siren call to the great beyond.

                                            >”What’re you saying?” Pinkie asks you with a hint of worry in her voice.

                                            >You take a deep breath and turn back to face Pinkie.

                                            “...I don’t belong here. Not in Ponyville, not in Equestria.”

                                            >Pinkie gasps in shock and horror, covering her mouth with her hoof.

                                            >”Anon, how could you believe that? Ponyville has room for happy folk of all shapes and sizes!”

                                            “Could’ve fooled me. I look around and all I see are ponies. Unicorns, pegasi, but not another human anywhere.”

                                            >”What you look like doesn’t matter at all! Not even a little! What really matters in Ponyville is being a good friend!”

                                            “I still get stared at when I go into town. Every time I go out to get food or help Applejack or Fluttershy, I feel them stare at me. They look at me like I’m a space alien.”

                                            >Pinkie hesitates for a moment.

                                            >”W-Well, you can’t be friends with EVERYpony! Believe me, I tried! Some ponies can be such meanies, no matter how much you try to meet them halfway or do nice things for them!”

                                            “I don’t want them all to be my friends, I just want to not be treated like something from outer space.”

                                            >Pinkie’s smile weakens as you refer to yourself in an unkind fashion again.

                                            >”...You’ve gotta be hungry. Have a muffin!” Pinkie orders you, presenting one of the muffins from the basket she brought.

                                            >Looking at the delicious treat makes your stomach rumble again.

                                            >Pinkie’s right, you should probably eat.

                                            >Straining a little, you reach out and carefully take the muffin and bite out of it.

                                            >As soon as you chew it, your body sings its gratitude.

                                            >Some might say muffins are a rather homely treat compared to its sexier cousin: the cupcake, but muffins are plenty delicious.

                                            >Especially when baked by a baker as excellent as Pinkie Pie.

                                            >You can’t help but contentedly sigh as you chew and swallow the rest of the muffin.

                                            >You won’t lie, you do feel better.


                                            >”Ooh, wait! Lemme get you some water!”  Pinkie realizes, galloping into your kitchen and quickly returning with a glass dangerously full of water.

                                            >Your hand is still sticking out from up the bed, so Pinkie slips the glass right into your grasp.

                                            >A little water spills out onto your hand, so you have to be a little careful when you drink it.

                                            >It’s only after you swallow a mouthful of the cold water that you realize how dangerously dry your throat is.

                                            >The rest of the water hurries down your throat and into your stomach, bringing you some much needed relief.

                                            “Thank you, Pinkie.” You graciously say to her once you’re done drinking.

                                            >”No problemo, Anon Y. Mo!” Pinkie chipperly replies, as some of the poofiness returns to her mane.

                                            >”Now lemme ask you: have any of those ponies said anything mean to you?”

                                            >Re-energized after having had something to eat and drink, you shake your head in a little more lively manner.

                                            >”Then maybe they’re just curious about you! One time, all of us here in Ponyville were super-duper scared of this zebra named Zecora. But we never had any zebras show up to Ponyville before, so we all hid from her whenever she came to town. Turns out, she wasn’t up to no good, she was only trying to get her shopping done, just like you! Maybe if you just got to know them, they’ll warm up to you!”

                                            >Drinking water made you a little more agreeable.

                                            >You’re able to actually rest now that your dietary needs have been a little attended to, so you relent and nod.

                                            “That’s a good point…”

                                            >There you go! That’s the spirit!” Pinkie beams, snuggling up to you and throwing one of her forelegs around your shoulders.

                                            >”I’m super, super duper sorry you’ve had a really bad day, but you shouldn’t let that keep you down! There’s a ton of beauty and fun to our little town, and I’m absolutely-positively certain you’ll fit right in! You’ve got yourself a Pinkie Pie guarantee that you belong here!”

                                            >Pinkie gasps, shooting away from you.

                                            >Oh, no.

                                            >Pinkie has an idea.

                                            >”I’ve got it! Tomorrow, you and I are gonna hit the town! See everything there is to see! Do everything there is to do! I’ll get all your friends in on it, too! You’re gonna believe once and for all that you belong here in Ponyville, because tomorrow, we’re gonna have the best day ever!” Pinkie declares, standing up on her hind legs and throwing her forelegs up into the air to add emphasis.

                                            >This sounds like a lot.

                                            >A lot of pressure.

                                            >A lot of being seen in public.

                                            >With your gangly limbs and upright standing hairless body.

                                            >You’re not so sure about this plan.

                                            “Pinkie-”

                                            >Ah-ah-ah! Don’t do anything now! Just wait here!”

                                            >Filled with chaotic, joyful energy, Pinkie zooms out of your bedroom.

                                            >She returns an instant later, brandishing a bottle of bubble bath soap.

                                            >Where did she get that?

                                            >You don’t own any bubble bath stuff.


                                            >”Don’t you worry a hair on your handsome human head! I’ll do all the hard thinking and hard work for tomorrow, all you need to do is to focus on resting and relaxing before your super big, super fun day tomorrow! I’ve drawn you up a bubble bath, and you can have the rest of the muffins all to yourself!” Pinkie instructs you, with some notable firmness in his voice.

                                            >You’re not much in the mood for arguing, and a bubble bath does sound nice.

                                            >”...Can you do that for me, Anon?” Pinkie gently asks you, giving you a reassuring smile.

                                            >A smile finds its way on your face, too.

                                            >After what happened with Twilight, it feels good to smile again.

                                            “Yeah, I can.”

                                            >”Pinkie promise!” Pinkie orders you.

                                            >You exhale through your nose a little, but nod.

                                            >The two cover one of your eyes with one of your fore appendages.

                                            “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” You say in unison with Pinkie.

                                            >It’s cheesy, but it’s a little fun.

                                            >Pinkie bounces back, fully invigorated in her plan.

                                            >”Okie dokie lokie! You get right into that bubble bath, mister! The next time you see me, you won’t be able to stop smiling!”

                                            “Aye-aye, cap’n.” You answer her in a dry but lighthearted tone.

                                            >Pinkie happily trots over to the door to your bedroom, but stops just before leaving.

                                            >”...Are you gonna be alright here all by yourself?” She softly asks you.

                                            >You give Pinkie a firm nod.

                                            “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. You go work your magic.” You assure her.

                                            >With her smile refreshed, Pinkie leaves your home, setting off on her grand quest to give you the best day ever.

                                            >Alone once again, those two words linger in your mind.

                                            >Bubble bath.

                                            >You better get on that.

                                            >You clamber out of bed, but you’re feeling more ready to move.

                                            >Your legs ache a little from the stress, but after a little motivation, they’re putting one foot in front of the other like naturals.

                                            >But when you get to your bathroom, you find the bathtub almost overflowing with bubbles.

                                            >A mountain of lilac-scented bubbles rises from the top of the tub, almost reaching the ceiling.

                                            >It’s more bubble than bath.

                                            >It’s beautiful.

                                            >You strip off your clothes and sink right into the water hidden beneath all the bubbles.

                                            >Just what the doctor ordered.

                                            >Your human body sings in delight upon being immersed in the intoxicatingly relaxing sensation of warm bath water.

                                            >Your eyelids flutter shut and a satisfied moan leaves your lips.

                                            >Washing yourself can wait, you want to enjoy this.

                                            >Your human body sinks lower into the tub, immersing as much of yourself as possible in the water.

                                            >This is nice.

                                            >This is really, really nice.


                                            >...Mom used to give you bubble baths.

                                            >When you were little, she’d use bubble bath soap like this to make your baths more fun.

                                            >She’d scrub your hair nice and rough to make sure your hair got washed.

                                            >You hated it at the time, but here, now, you can’t help but miss it.

                                            >The water seems a little less warm now.

                                            >Your eyes open again.

                                            >You’re not home.

                                            >You’re still in Equestria.

                                            >Far, far, far away from mom.

                                            >One or two tears drip down your cheeks and disappear into the bath water.

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            >Think about Pinkie.

                                            >Think about tomorrow.

                                            >Tomorrow all of these doubts are gonna disappear.

                                            >You’re gonna find a home in Ponyville.

                                            >You’re gonna have the best day ever.

                                            >The best day ever…


                                            >*TWEEEEET!*

                                            >You jolt awake, back in your bed.

                                            >Yanked from the peaceful solitude of your slumber by the sound of a kazoo slicing through the air.

                                            >”Wakey wakey, eggs and bakery!” Pinkie’s ever-so cheery voice greets you good morning.

                                            >Brief dizziness clouds your senses, but dissipates in the face of what Pinkie brought with her.

                                            >Proudly placed on your lap is a plate stacked high with cookies, covered with chocolate chips, sprinkles, and plenty of frosting.

                                            ”Ngh, Pinkie?” You groan, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and sitting up in bed.

                                            >”How’s this for starting off your best day ever? Dessert for breakfast!” Pinkie beams, pushing the plate of dangerously sugary cookies towards you.

                                            >Wait.

                                            >The last you remember, you were taking a bath.

                                            >What are you doing back in bed?

                                            “What happened to me?” You ask Pinkie, regaining some consciousness.

                                            >”Funny you ask! Late last night, I was just wrapping up everything for today, when my Pinkie sense started to tingle…”

                                            >Oh, yeah, the Pinkie sense.

                                            >It’s something not even Twilight can make sense of.

                                            >”So I trot on down here to make sure everything’s all hunky-dory, and I find you fast asleep in the bathtub!”

                                            >”I know how you get all wrinkly when you spend too much time in the water, so I got you nice and tucked in your bed for today! Now you get to enjoy your best day ever wrinkle-free!” Pinkie explains, her voice filled with pride.

                                            >Pinkie lugged you all the way from the bathtub to your bed?

                                            >She’s got some real strength when she needs it.

                                            >Hold on, STRAIGHT from the bathtub to bed?

                                            >You check under the covers.

                                            >Sure enough, you’re naked.

                                            >You reflexively cover your body and feel your cheeks glow with embarrassment.

                                            “Pinkie! I wasn’t dressed!” You complain.

                                            >”I dunno why you make such a big deal about wearing clothes all the time, we don’t wear any clothes and you don’t make a fuss about it!” Pinkie retorts.

                                            “It’s a cultural thing!”

                                            >”Wowee, no wonder you became such good friends with Rarity! I’ve never seen anypony care as much about clothes as you two! Anywho, eat your breakfast while it’s still warm!”

                                            >Your stomach rumbles, seconding her motion.

                                            >No longer feeling so numb as to deny yourself proper care, you grab one of the cookies and take a bite.

                                            >God damn, you really needed something to eat.

                                            >The explosion of sugar and sweetness in your mouth wakes you right up.

                                            >Your stomach screams at you to keep eating the cookies.

                                            >Every dentist you’ve ever visited in your life, human or otherwise, strongly advises you to stop now and reconsider your dietary choices.

                                            >But Pinkie’s mere presence overpowers all of them.

                                            >So you eat more cookies.

                                            >You dread to imagine how many calories could be in each of these, but you don’t care about that right now.

                                            >Each generously decorated cookie gets eaten swiftly and efficiently.

                                            >Within a couple blinks of the eye, the plate is clean.


                                            >”Sooooo, whaddya think?” Pinkie asks you, leaning over the bed to gauge your reaction closely.

                                            >You wipe some of the residual frosting and sprinkles from the sides of your mouth before answering.

                                            “It’s delicious, thank you.” You say to her, still feeling tired.

                                            >As nice as the bath was and as tasty as “breakfast” was, you can still hear Twilight’s words faintly echoing off the walls, like you’re being haunted by the spirit of your dead hopes.

                                            >Pinkie, unaware of your inner turmoil, smiles widely at your praise.

                                            >”Thank you, Nonny! But don’t get too comfy in that nice big bed of yours! You’ve got a super big day ahead of you!”

                                            >You clear your throat and place the plate to your side as you sit up in bed.

                                            “I know, I remember. So what’ve you got planned?” You finally ask her.

                                            >Pinkie gleefully hops up onto the bed.

                                            >”Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! First, we’re gonna head on up to Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack found a box of SUPER old fashioned apple cider she’d love to share, and the morning sky looks so pretty over the apple trees!”

                                            >”Then, we’re gonna pay Fluttershy a visit for a tea party! She told me she promised to share her tea with you after you were so helpful with her birdhouses!”

                                            >”And then, we’re gonna swing by Carousel Boutique! Rarity’s secretly been hard at work making a bunch of fun outfits for you to try on!”

                                            >”But before we spend more time with your friends, we’ve gotta have lunch! Get this: dessert for lunch at Sugarcube Corner! Mr. and Mrs. Cake were nice enough to help me make a nice, yummy meal for you to look forward to!”

                                            >”Right after that, we get right back into having fun with your friends! Twilight’s gonna be joining us for a spa treatment from Aloe and Lotus Blossom, and you can bet your bippy Spike will be there too!”

                                            >”In case you think things couldn’t possibly get any better, Rainbow Dash managed to get in touch with somepony who got us a hot air balloon ride! Can you IMAGINE how amazing that’ll be?”

                                            >Geez, Pinkie really pulled all the stops for today.

                                            >She might not be a unicorn, but she’s got a magic all her own.

                                            “...Wow.” You say in amazement.

                                            “You sure we’ll have time for all that?”

                                            >”I made sure of it! I pinkie promised!”

                                            “...No, you didn’t” You remind her.

                                            >”Well, you weren’t really AWAKE when I made the pinkie promise, but it still counts!”

                                            >That’s good enough for you.

                                            >You don’t know if you have the energy for it, but this “best day ever” is gonna happen to you.

                                            >Whether you like it or not.

                                            >”Doesn’t all that sound like fun?”

                                            >You don’t answer.

                                            >You hardly feel like leaving the house today, but Pinkie’s determined to drag you around town.

                                            >Through crowds of ponies going about their day.

                                            >They’ll all be looking at you.


                                            >You don’t even want to know what you look like right now.

                                            >Your hair’s a mess, your skin probably is, too.

                                            >Rarity would be beside herself if she saw you.

                                            >And you’d look even more creature-esque to the equine townfolk.

                                            >You’d look like something that lives in a cave.

                                            >You feel your body sink into the cushion-y mattress a little more.

                                            >You only wish it could swallow you whole.

                                            >Take you away from this pastel-colored plane of existence.

                                            >”Nonny? You there?”

                                            >Pinkie’s words bring you back to the present moment.

                                            >The only pair of pony eyes looking at you are Pinkie’s.

                                            >You take a deep breath and nod.

                                            “Yeah, it’s just… a lot to take in all at once.”

                                            >”You’ve got nothing to worry about! You’ll see! You’ve just gotta get up and get going! You’ll see yourself as a true-blue citizen of Ponyville by the end of the day!”

                                            “Well, I dunno, how would those ponies that run the spa feel about working on a human? And I’ve seen the kind of hot air balloons that get flown around here, I think I’m a little too big for those.”

                                            >”Anon, every single little worry you could possibly have has already been taken care of. We’re gonna have a blast, you’ll see!” Pinkie insists, unrelenting in her optimism.

                                            >You sigh.

                                            >You don’t want to keep arguing.

                                            >Especially with Pinkie Pie, after everything she’s done for you.

                                            >And you know she’ll drag you out of bed to Sweet Apple Acres if she has to.

                                            “...Okay.”

                                            >Pinkie bounces joyfully.

                                            >”That’s the spirit! Now come on, we’re burning daylight!” She urges you, using her forehooves to push you out of bed.

                                            >The blanket wrapped around you cushions your fall a little bit, but you still groan from the impact.

                                            >Before you can fully recover, you’re hit in the face with a clean set of clothes.

                                            >”If clothes are really that important to you, then you better get dressed quickly!”

                                            >You hear Pinkie shuffle a bit on the other side of the room.

                                            >”Don’t worry, I won’t peek!”

                                            >Slowly, you get to your feet and slip on your underwear, socks, pants, and shirt.

                                            >Glancing over at Pinkie, you find her facing the wall like she’s intently focused on making sure the paint dries as soon as possible.

                                            >Her puffy pink tail swishes eagerly, her entire being filled with excitement about today.

                                            >Your shoes are by the front door, you’ll put those on when you’re heading out.

                                            >”Ooh, wait!”

                                            >Just then, another article of clothing is tossed at you.

                                            >It’s a well-worn sweater of yours, very stretched out in the stomach and neck area.

                                            >”We can trot across Ponyville as the pal pod!”


                                            >Oh yeah, the pal pod.

                                            >It’s something Pinkie came up with, you’d carry her around inside your sweater with her head peeking out of the neck hole.

                                            >Being the weight-carrying half of the pal pod makes it a little difficult to see where you’re going thanks to Pinkie’s massive hair…

                                            >...But Pinkie makes it fun.

                                            >”Come on, whaddya say?”

                                            >You relent, slipping the stretched-out sweater on over your head and holding the bottom of it open for her.

                                            “Climb in.”

                                            >With a giddy squee, Pinkie bounces over to you and climbs inside your sweater.

                                            >It feels weird to have Pinkie squirming around on your stomach, but an instant later, she’s situated herself .

                                            >Her legs are curled up inside your sweater and her head’s nuzzling right up to yours.

                                            >You support Pinkie’s body with your arms, knowing that she’s making you look like you’re pregnant.

                                            >Pinkie giggles gleefully as she cuddles right up to you.

                                            >”Ready to head out, pal?”

                                            “Almost…”

                                            >You walk over to the front door and slip on your shoes, then open the front door.

                                            >A gust of fresh air blows in to introduce you back to the land of Ponyville.

                                            >Where rows of nice little houses fill the hills, rolling into the horizon.

                                            >The morning sun hangs low in the sky, still yet to ascend to its mighty peak as the sky surrounding it is painted in gentle hues from light blue to pink.

                                            >Some pegasi can be seen tending to the clouds, seeing that the day’s weather forecast is in order.

                                            >It’s a view you’re going to have to get used to.

                                            >It’s intimidating.

                                            >It seems so different.

                                            >So much farther away, now that you’re a permanent resident of this world.

                                            >You’re a part of this world like a section of rebar embedded within a careless construction worker.

                                            >But you have to be strong.

                                            >Give today a chance.

                                            >If not for yourself, for Pinkie.

                                            >You slowly nod.

                                            “I’m ready.”

                                            >Pinkie smiles gleefully.

                                            >”Onward, pal pod! Onward to the best day ever!”