[ANON IN EQUESTRIA] Doctor Anon


                                            Originally uploaded to Pastebin: December 12th, 2013

                                            ---


                                            >Nurse Redheart reaches over and wipes your brow as you work.

                                            >Picking up surgical tools, you deftly make incisions here and there, careful hands making not a single mistake.

                                            >The beeping on the machine starts getting faster.

                                            >"Doctor--"

                                            "I know, Nurse. It'll be fine."

                                            >Your hands are a blur as you cut and reattach bits and pieces of your subject.

                                            >The beeping is getting more frequent.

                                            >Sew up this. Inject that. Take a bite of your sandwich.

                                            >Wipe your mouth of crumbs and swipe a few off your patient.

                                            >"Doctor is the sandwich really necessary now?"

                                            "I skipped lunch. I work better on a full stomach."

                                            >Give the bag your sandwich came in to the patient.

                                            "Hold this."

                                            >He gulps and his eyes dart to the blood-soaked 'Ponyburger' bag now in his hooves.

                                            >"Are you sure I should be awake?"

                                            "Why, does it hurt?"

                                            >"Y-yes. And what's that machine that keeps beeping?"

                                            "I don't know-- SCOOTALOO!"

                                            >Scootaloo - who is sat in the corner - squeals.

                                            >"Yes Doctor Anon sir!"

                                            "Stop playing with that shit Simon knock off and help me sew this guy up."

                                            >"Why can't Miss Redheart do it?"

                                            "She's not qualified."

                                            >Redheart frowns.

                                            >"Actually, Doctor Anonymous, I am."

                                            "Shit, seriously? In that case, put pressure on the wound and keep the blood in."

                                            >She nods and does so.

                                            >The patient winces and a geyser of blood starts squirting out of another hole on his lower torso.

                                            >Everyone in the room stops to look at the fountain for a second.

                                            "That's not right..."

                                            >"Doctor, I think the patient is losing consciousness."

                                            "Ahh he's fine, right pal?"

                                            >"T-tha blood is touching the ceiling..."

                                            "Scootaloo!"

                                            >Scoots jumps up onto the table and sits next to the patient's head.

                                            >"Yes, sir?"

                                            "Keep him awake."

                                            >Scootaloo starts slapping the patient over and over again.

                                            >He's losing a lot of blood. Most of it is now on your hands or the ceiling tiles.

                                            "Nurse, we're going to need a blood transfusion."

                                            >"We've used up all the blood in our supply! We get another shipment from Canterlot Royal tomorrow!"

                                            "Shit. We'll have to improvise."

                                            >Look around, searching for anything.

                                            >Your eyes land on something.

                                            "Perfect."


                                            >The patient groans.

                                            >His eyes flutter open and then shut when the bright light hits him in the face.

                                            "Turn that off, for fucks sake."

                                            >"Sorry."

                                            >Scootaloo turns off the floodlight she was pointing straight at him.

                                            >The patient winces and tries to sit up.

                                            >"Where... Where am I?"

                                            >Beam at him.

                                            "Congratulations, Mister..."

                                            >Look at your clipboard.

                                            >There's a large red "?" under "Name"

                                            "Mister Idontknow! You've made a full recovery from the operation."

                                            >Idontknow blinks and manages a weary smile.

                                            >"What was the operation?"

                                            >Look at your clipboard again.

                                            >Most of the page is just doodles of monkeys.

                                            "...Heart surgery."

                                            >"Oh dear. Well I'm glad there were no problems."

                                            >You put on a fake smile.

                                            "Weeeell..."

                                            >Glance over at Nurse Redheart, who is stood next to Scootaloo.

                                            >She looks at the box of empty soda bottles at her hooves, then back at Idontknow, then starts sweating.

                                            "Listen, you lost a lot of blood, so we had to uhh."

                                            >Idontknow looks visibly shaken. You're going to have to handle this delicately.

                                            >Place a hand on his leg and pat it, giving him a sympathetic look.

                                            "We had to replace eighty eight percent of your blood with fizzy pop."

                                            >He's stunned.

                                            >"I..."

                                            "Oh don't worry. Turns out there's some uhh, chemical or something that makes the pop a perfect substitute to blood."

                                            >"O-oh. ...Will there be any downsides?"

                                            "Not really. Your blood might taste really tangy, and I would advise not letting kids drink from any open wounds, but other than that you're perfectly fine."

                                            >He smacks his lips and winces as he sits up some more.

                                            >"W-well then. That's okay! When can I leave?"

                                            "Right now! Nurse, escort him out."

                                            >Nurse Redheart pulls him out of bed and slings him over her back before trotting out the ward.

                                            >You've been the head honcho around this hospital for close to a month now. Back home you were a doctor as well.

                                            >Though you had your license removed for "immoral methods".

                                            >Even though the patients that survived your treatment had a 100% recovery rate.

                                            >No one understands your genius.

                                            >Toss your clipboard onto the bed and dust your hands off before stuffing them in your pockets and strolling out the room.

                                            >Scootaloo follows you like an obedient puppy.

                                            >For some bizarre reason, she took to you after seeing you fix someone in the middle of Ponyville square after they got stabbed.

                                            >Ahh, memories...


                                            >"AAAAAAUUUGH!"

                                            "Christ, I'm going to need to block the wound. You there! Little boy!"

                                            >"I-I'm a girl! And I'm called Scootaloo!"

                                            "Whatever! We need morphine, now!"

                                            >"What's morphine? Is he going to be alright?"

                                            "Probably not! He's been stabbed!"

                                            >"YOU STABBED ME YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

                                            "He's delirious, Scootaloo, pass me some of that dirt!"

                                            >Scootaloo digs up a hooffull of dirt and gives it to you.

                                            >Stuff the pony's stab wound with it.

                                            >"OH LUNA IT BURNS! TAKE IT OUT!"

                                            "If it stings, that means it's working. Now bite onto something, we're going to need to amputate your leg."


                                            >Sigh happily to yourself.

                                            >"What are you thinking about, Doctor Anon sir?"

                                            "Just times gone by, Scootaloo. How's the flying coming along?"

                                            >"Oh, it's great! I can hover now! And Rainbow Dash is teaching me how to preen!"

                                            "That's wonderful!"

                                            >"And when I'm good she cleans me!"

                                            "That's... also wonderful!"

                                            >"She cleans my--"

                                            "Stop talking, Scootaloo."

                                            >A small voice catches your attention.

                                            >"Hhhelp... Me..."

                                            >Look down.

                                            >A mare is dragging herself along the floor in a trail of her own blood through the hospital lobby.

                                            >Sticking out of her chest is a massive spike of jagged glass.

                                            >Bits of rib jut out around the wound, and blood occasionally spurts out from around the glass.

                                            >The pony looks like she's on the verge of death.

                                            >...

                                            "What seems to be the problem, Ma'am?"

                                            >"Help... Please..."

                                            >Crouch down and tap the glass shard with a finger.

                                            >Scootaloo taps it as well with a hoof while trying to mimic your 'serious doctor face'.

                                            "What do you make of this, trainee?"

                                            >"Looks like a bad case of glass-through-chest, doctor. What do you recommend?"

                                            "We'll have to remove the glass somehow. Scootaloo, fetch me my gardening gloves."

                                            >Scootaloo takes off in a blur.

                                            >Several seconds later she's back, thick gloves in her mouth.

                                            >Pull them on and flex your fingers.

                                            >The mare's eyes shrink to pinpricks.

                                            >"W-what are you going to do?"

                                            "Relax, Ma'am. I'm a doctor."

                                            >Stand up, place a foot on her chest, wrap your hands around the glass, and pull as hard as you can.

                                            >A sickening "Shlurp" noise is heard as the glass is yanked out of the mare.

                                            >Toss it to the side and look at your handiwork.

                                            >The mare is gawking at the huge hole in her chest.

                                            "Hmm. Scootaloo. Apply pressure to the wound."

                                            >Scootaloo salutes, then stuffs both hooves inside the pony's chest.

                                            >"Now what, Doctor Anon sir?"

                                            "Reassure the patient."

                                            >Scootaloo, knee deep inside the mare's chest, smiles at her.

                                            >"Everything is going to be fine, miss. Don't you worry!"

                                            >The mare gurgles as blood starts flowing out of her mouth.

                                            "Hmm... Okay, Scootaloo, that's enough pressure. Go get me my power tools. We'll have to get messy for this one."


                                            "Well, I must say, that turned out way better than I expected."

                                            >The mare pats her now completely sewn up chest.

                                            >"I... I don't believe it! I feel amazing! Thank you, doctor!"

                                            "No no, don't thank me. Thank the lithium-ion batteries I superglued to your heart."

                                            >The mare giggles and pecks you on the cheek before prancing out the room.

                                            >Wipe your brow and puff out your cheeks.

                                            >"So what now, Doctor Anon sir?"

                                            "Well, I don't think we've got that many patients left, Scootaloo. We'll make one last lap of the wards and check up on everyone, then go out and hit the bar."

                                            >"But I'm not old enough to drink!"

                                            "Of course you are. It's just not legal if you do."

                                            >The intercom buzzes above you, and a nasally mare's voice blares from the speaker.

                                            >"Doctor Anonymous to the main reception please. Main reception, Doctor Anonymous."

                                            >Shrug and walk downstairs, your faithful assistant on your heels the entire time.

                                            >Reach the front desk and lean on the counter, bouncing your eyebrows at the plump mare sat behind it.

                                            "Hey there, sugarlump."

                                            >She gives you a completely disinterested expression and nods at the stallion in uniform nearby.

                                            >The stallion grimaces at the sight of you and readjusts his hat.

                                            >He walks towards you and extends a hoof.

                                            >"Doctor Anonymous?"

                                            "Hi. Come to donate an organ?"

                                            >"Uhh, no. My name is Officer Badgeworthy, I'm here to take you into custody."

                                            "Why's that?"

                                            >"You have been monitored by the Department for Equestrian Health and Hospital Conduct, and they deem you a... uhh..."

                                            >He pulls out a notepad.

                                            >"Maniacal, psychopathic madstallion who is unfit for the civil service on the grounds of experimenting on live subjects, committing atrocities against every known pony right, exercising extremely unsafe and reckless acts of mutilation and butchery on every patient who walks through the door, and stealing from the treasury to fund his sick medical fetishes."

                                            >Nod at everything he listed.

                                            "Well to be fair, that whale heart transplant to that little filly was straight up genius."

                                            >The officer pulls out some handcuffs.

                                            >"I have to take you in, Doctor. Come quietly, and no one will get hurt."

                                            "Scootaloo?"

                                            >The filly bounces on the spot at her name.

                                            >"Yes Doctor Anon sir?"

                                            "Apply pressure to the good officer's nose."

                                            >Scootaloo nods eagerly, then punches the officer in the muzzle as hard as she can.

                                            >She yelps and falls to the floor, nursing her hoof.

                                            >The officer reels backwards, clutching his face.

                                            >Before he can do anything else, you stab him in the neck with a syringe full of anesthetic.

                                            "Now, I'm going to count to five--"

                                            >The officer slumps to the floor before you can continue.

                                            >Pick him up and turn to carry him towards an empty ward.

                                            >Stop and turn to the desk before you take another step.

                                            "Oh, Miss Freerest?"

                                            >The receptionist looks up, still disinterested, even with a police pony over your shoulder.

                                            >"Yes, Doctor?"

                                            "If any more police officers come knocking, tell them I'm not in."

                                            >"Of course, Doctor."

                                            >You smile and stroll towards the ward.


                                            >Place the stallion in a bed and clasp your hands together.

                                            "Now! Scootaloo! That was a fine punch. But now you're going to have to learn how to do corrective nose surgery."

                                            >"How?"

                                            "Watch and learn. Pass me that blow torch."

                                            >Nurse Redheart canters into the room as you and Scootaloo pull masks over your eyes.

                                            >"ANON! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

                                            "Hm? What's the matter, Nurse?"

                                            >She points a hoof at the unconscious police pony.

                                            >"WHY IS HE KNOCKED OUT? WHY IS HE BLEEDING? DID YOU ASSAULT A POLICE OFFICER?"

                                            "I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice, Nurse. You're scaring Scootaloo."

                                            >Point at Scoots, who is playing around with a needle full of hepatitis-C that was just lying around.

                                            >Redheart takes several deep breaths before continuing.

                                            >"Okay... Okay... I'm a professional. I can do this."

                                            >She smiles sweetly.

                                            >"Doctor Anonymous. Why are you about to melt that pony's face?"

                                            "We need to melt away the skin to get to the bone, then we need to correct it. Broken bones are serious business."

                                            >Redheart marches over and slaps the blow torch from your hands.

                                            >Then points a hoof at you.

                                            >"NO."

                                            "What?"

                                            >"NO. OUTSIDE. NOW."

                                            "You can't do this! I'm a doctor!"

                                            >"Anon so help me Celestia I will ruin you if you don't get out while I try and fix this."

                                            "What am I supposed to do in the mean time?"

                                            >"Go and check on the other patients!"

                                            "Fine. Come on, Scootaloo."

                                            >Scootaloo pauses before she ends up drinking the hepatitis and drops the needle.

                                            >"Okay!"

                                            >Redheart clears her throat.

                                            >"Uhh, no. Scootaloo will stay with me. You're a bad influence on her."

                                            "No I'm not!"

                                            >"Miss Redheart can I draw a lightning bolt on his face with a scalpel?"

                                            >"PUT THAT DOWN. LEAVE, ANON."

                                            "Fine, fuck."


                                            >Sit in the corridor with your arms folded while Redheart does "nurse stuff".

                                            "This fucking sucks."

                                            >"D-doctor?"

                                            >Look to your left, arms still folded.

                                            >An old pony with a walking stick is trembling and looking at you.

                                            "What's up with you?"

                                            >"M-my legs hurt, and I can't see properly."

                                            "Uhh, okay."

                                            >Dig your hands in your pockets and search around in them.

                                            >Pull out a few multicoloured pills and some trouser fluff.

                                            >Put them in a plastic bag and give them to the old pony.

                                            "Take all of these every day for breakfast for the next six months."

                                            >"Thank you, D-doctor!"

                                            "No problem."

                                            >Helping people is fun.

                                            >You stand up and trudge around the hospital, aiding whoever needs it.


                                            >"I can't feel my arms!"

                                            "You don't have any."


                                            >"What's my name?"

                                            "Take four of these pills a day and it might come to you."


                                            >"What time is it?"

                                            "I'll pencil you in for a stomach pump."


                                            >"Did my daughter survive the operation, Doctor?"

                                            "Probably."


                                            >"Doctor! Doctor! Give me the news!"

                                            "You've got a bad case of pony flu."


                                            >Sigh and stare out the window wistfully.

                                            >Caring for people is hard work.

                                            >"Doctor Anon sir!"

                                            >Smile to yourself and turn around.

                                            >Scootaloo is at your feet, gazing up at you.

                                            >"Miss Redheart took her eye off me for a second!"

                                            "Fantastic work, Scootaloo. Now, can you see what I'm doing here?"

                                            >You turn to the pony next to you.

                                            "What do you think is wrong with her?"

                                            >"O-OH CELESTIA I THINK I CAN FEEL THE FOAL COMING."

                                            >"Does she have a tummy bug?"

                                            "Close. Note the giant bulge -here-. She's actually got a parasite living inside her. It's been there for the last year or so, feeding off whatever she eats and sapping her strength."

                                            >"Cool!"

                                            "Very. And now we're going to pull it out of her."

                                            >An angry stallion sat at the other side of the mare glares at you.

                                            >"Doctor! My wife is in labour! Can you please help instead of talking to that kid?!"

                                            "You're acting a bit stressed, sir. Take this pill."

                                            >Reach over the screaming mare and give him a white tablet.

                                            >"This will calm my nerves?"

                                            "Yeah, sure, why not."

                                            >He pops it in his mouth and eats it.

                                            "Okay! Now, back to whatever it is we're doing here--"

                                            >"MY FOAL IS COMING!"

                                            "Oh yeah. Scootaloo, for this operation, we'll need those tong things they use to flip burgers."

                                            >"I think I saw a pair in the janitors closet!"

                                            "Atta girl! Go get them."

                                            >She salutes and bolts out of the room.

                                            >The mare gives you a despairing look.

                                            >Smile at her.

                                            "So. How you doing?"

                                            >Her husband collapses, frothing at the mouth.

                                            >Scootaloo returns, panting heavily with the tongs in her mouth.

                                            >"F-foumb 'em!"

                                            "Nice work. Watch this."

                                            >Stick the tongues inside the mare's rapidly expanding vagina.

                                            >Scootaloo makes a disgusted noise.

                                            "I know it's foul, Scootaloo. But this is one of the most beautiful things in nature."

                                            >"R-really?"

                                            "Hell if I know. It's what my parents used to say to me. If I do say so myself, this is revolting."

                                            >"It so is! Is it supposed to look like that?"

                                            "God damn it's sickening."

                                            >"Foals are gross."

                                            >All this makes the mare pass out from stress.

                                            >"Is she alright?"

                                            "She'll be fine. It's just the parasite sapping the last of her strength."

                                            >With an almighty tug, you tear the hellspawn out of her vagina.

                                            "It's a male unicorn. Write that down."

                                            >"How do you spell 'Unicorn' again?"

                                            "Just say it's got two horns."

                                            >She nods and scribbles it down.

                                            >The foal stares up at you, his eyes adjusting to the real world for the first time in his life. In them, you see a fresh start. A brand new soul added to the world. A pony with limitless potential that will have his own dreams and ambitions. His own fears and regrets. Equestria is his oyster and it all begins now.

                                            >With that thought, you wrap the little bastard up in tin foil and put him on his passed out mother like a tiny screaming jacket potato.

                                            >Throw the tongs in a nearby trash can and pat Scootaloo on the head.

                                            "You did good today, Scootaloo. I'm proud of you."

                                            >"Thanks, Doctor Anon sir! What do we do now?"

                                            >Pull off your doctor's coat and place your stethoscope on a nearby bed.

                                            "Now we have to flee the country. We're wanted for murder on a massive scale. Just a simple misunderstanding."

                                            >"Oh... Do I have to tell my mom?"

                                            "I wasn't even aware you had parents."

                                            >"She'll be okay with it, sure she will!"

                                            "We'll only be gone until the cops stop looking for us, so there's no need."

                                            >"Cool!"

                                            "Also you might need to change your name."

                                            >"Oh..."

                                            "And get a hair cut."

                                            >"..."

                                            "Come along, Ronaldo. We haven't got much time to waste. Go find Redheart and tell her to meet us at the train station. Chances are the cops will be after her as well, what with her being an accomplice."

                                            >"Where are we going?"

                                            >Put on a pair of sunglasses.

                                            "Mexicow."


                                            The End.