(BTE = Before the Editor)

~Happy Birthday, Story! June 29th 2013~

So, I was about to leave when suddenly BANG, the cart went through a wall and disappeared through the other. You should have seen the faces of my bosses when that happened.” The mare in front of me said while making exaggerated movement with her arms.

“Did they pay for the reparation?” I asked to the pink mare who sat down for the first time since she started her story. She took a sip of her drink before giggling.

“Obviously. I don’t think there is an insurance company that protects against cart smashing.” She giggled again, melting my heart. It has been officially two months that I've been hanging out with Strawberry the baker and I already knew that I would stay with her longer.

I continued to look at her while she started another story about her crazy life in Ponyville. Since she grew up in Manehattan, she never had the same amount of craziness a born Ponyvillian would have. Still, even if her stories would be considered normal occurrences in my life, hearing her talk with that sweet voice of hers was enough to make me stay and listen.

She stood up again to express with movement what she was saying, allowing me to get a closer look on her upper body. Unlike normal mares who always made sure their weight was at the same level everyday, she didn’t care, making her look a bit pudgy. Still, that additional weight was normal for a mare surrounded with cakes and chocolate the entire day.

Also, that weight made it so her flank was round and plentiful. I could grab it, unlike slim mares who only had skin and bones. She was also the kind of ‘all natural’ mare, preferring to have no make-up or fancy clothes, which was a bit different from Manahattanians who like their ‘satin’ robe.

“And then, out of nowhere, a piano fell right beside me. From what I heard, it happened only once in the past and it injured the town’s librarian. Plus, it was from the same mare! Shouldn’t the delivery service know not to repeat the same mis-” That was when I heard screams in the distance.

We saw dozens of ponies run away from something in the street beside where the little cafe we were standing in was. We both knew that, from the amount of ponies having the same reaction, what was there was truly frightening.

“I’m afraid we have to cut this da- late dinner short.” I said, almost spilling out my true intentions to her. Luckily for me, she didn’t hear my slip of tongue. “We should get home before this thing gets up. When this will be over, do you know when we’ll be able to eat together again?”

She started grabbing her stuff and, when she was finished, she smiled at me. “I would be glad to finish this dinner another time, but there is something that you must answer first.” She told me. I looked at her confused, quickly motioning her to continue.

“Knock, knock.”

This turned my confused look even more confused. That was not a question. That wasn’t even a proper sentence. “This isn’t the time for jokes, Berry.” I warned her, fearing that the scary thing would catch them off-guard.

“Knock, knock.”

This time, it angered me. Does this filly even understand the meaning of the word ‘danger’? Even if I knew I would regret it, I answered anyway. “Who’s there?” She grinned evilly, like if I just gave her the final piece required to open a vault rumored to be full of treasures.

Out of her mouth came the sound of somebody knocking at the door. This sound startled me. The fact that she recreated to perfection the sound was astounding. Still, I knew that this was fishy as she continued to make the sound.

*knock knock*

*knock knock knock*

*knock… knock…*

=====

I slowly woke up to the sound of somebody knocking on the door like a mad man. Who would knock like this at such an early hour? I turned my body, only to see that it was about 11 am. Well… who would still knock non-stop for such a long time?

I lazily rolled out of the bad, willfully falling on the floor. Sadly, I fell on something I totally forgot I had. The feeling of pain coming from my tail travelled my spinal chord right in my brain, which lead to one of the most unmanly pained sound I ever made.

I opened my eyes, now awaken by the adrenalin flowing through my bloodstream, only to see what I could only compare to the resolution of an IMAX screen. My field of vision, who was at the level of a cone when I fell asleep, was now a perfect 180 degree view with graphics set to Ultra.

“Wow…” I simply said, that simple word representing what my brain was trying to tell me in multiple paragraphs. I would have continued to marvel at the simple act of staring at a wall if it wasn’t for the still constant knocking at the door of Berry’s house.

This was the moment where I snapped. Forgetting the fact that, since my eyes changed resolution and that I was now looking at the bed like if it was a tower, I was now 100% pony, I stormed off toward the entrance of the house, the continuing sound slowly hammering my eardrums to a pulp.

“OKAY, UNLESS YOU’RE THE BUCKING LANDOWNER, PLEASE STOP KNOCKING AT THE DOOR.” I shouted right beside said door. The knocking stopped, much to my pleasure, but the voice I heard from the other side caught me off-guard.

“It’s me… Reginald.”

It was him, the traitor who helped the Russians capture Berry for money. The bastard who used to by the best boss I had ever. I went from angry from the knocking to downright infuriating that he was actually showing his ugly traitorous face at her last victim’s humble abode.

I unlocked the door and opened it, showing a man who looked ten years older than he really was. His eyes were bloodshot, his shirt was stained with sweat and tears and his hair was disheveled. He looked like he didn’t sleep at all. His appearance alone made my rage go away and, due to my new rewired brain, made my feel concern.

“R-Reginald? Are you alri-” I asked before being caught… in a hug? Reginald was practically crying in my fur, his leg on the floor to allow an easy grab. When the surprise of the act passed, I started patting him on the back, trying to get him to calm down.

“I… I didn’t know Peter, I didn’t.” He told me between sobs. I stared at him in surprise. This man, evil evil man who sold my friend for green paper, was feeling guilty of his act after all that happened. I simply couldn’t believe it.

“Why, Reginald? Why did you do this to me? Why did you do this to her… to Anthony…?” I asked, trying to suck out his true intentions. I knew that his psyche was frail and that it was the right moment to get the truth.

“They… they lied to me. When they arrived, they explained that Anthony was kidnapped by this woman. He showed me proof of that. Pictures of a kidnapping. A pink haired girl grabbing the man with malice flashing in her eyes like a crazy puppet out for blood.” He shivered, trying to stop the tears from leaving his eyes.

“I don’t know why, but at the time, I asked no question. Yet now, I’m wondering where did he get those pictures. Also, the angle of the camera was way off. I looked at the pictures again and… I saw how fake they were.” He started to tear up again. “How could I miss those details? Also, why am I crying? I am a man!” I hugged him tighter and he finally stopped his crying.

I pushed him a bit to see his face. His eyes were even more red than before, but luckily for him, most of his tears were absorbed by my coat. That last part brought much disgust. “You really should go to the bathroom and clean yourself. you look like a spawn from the tartarus.”

He laughed for the first time in the time in the conversation.This was quite the relief to hear that sound coming from his mouth after all that happened. “Yeah, sure. Where is the bathroom?” He asked, cleaning the last remaining tears from his eyes.

“Oh, it’s quite easy.     First left, second right, third on the left, go straight ahead, under the stairs, past the bins, fifth door on your left. You can’t miss it.” I explained in a ‘matter of fact’ voice. He looked at me, not digging the reference.

“Stop joking with me. Why the fuck is it!?” He shouted, obviously not realising it. I backed up and cringe at his tone and voice, making him see the consequence of his actions. I pointed right beside us. He looked at the open door leading to the bathroom. “Oh… sorry. Be right back.”

He stood up and left, leaving me on the floor, fur flooded with tears. I was still in shock about what just happened, but I was happy that Reginald understood what he did. Still, I hoped that he understood and that it was not an act.

I would have stayed on the floor if it wasn’t for the telephone ringing near me. I slowly stood up and grabbed the phone. At first, I thought it would be an easy operation. Press talk, place it on my ear and voila! Yet, not having fingers make trying to press a centimeter squared button with a huge keratin hoof as hard as splitting two of those those small lego slabs I had in my youth.

Sadly, I was not able to open the phone in time, making me hope that Berry had an answering machine.  I slowly placed the wireless phone back on it’s charger. I suddenly heard the shower bring opened. I hoped that Reginald would feel better after that. I didn’t want to be guilt tripped the entire time he would be with me.

As I was wondering what to do, I heard a beeping sound coming from Berry’s PC. Curious, I looked at the screen and saw that Skype had a notification coming from a certain ‘We are the Meta’. That’s when I remembered the message I sent yesterday.

We are the Meta: Hello?

We are the Meta: You awake yet?

I looked at the messages, surprised that I’ve got an answer. The first message came from late last night, but the other message was the one that caused the sound notification. I placed myself in a position that would help me write an answer with those large rocks attached to my arms.

PeterMartineau1: yes who are you

My OCD started screaming at me, whining that there was neither capital letters or punctuation, but I knew that it was already long and tedious to write something on such a small laptop keyboard with hooves without much mistakes.

We are the Meta: The person you contacted last night about a "Strawberry Frost"

PeterMartineau1: oh sweet luna, i reaslly need yoiur heslp

I stared angrily at the screen. My last line was written horrible. I tried again, failing again.

PeterMartineau1: typklng with hooves is hsard

We are the Meta: I can imagine. I guess I can consider myself lucky haha.

PeterMartineau1: har haf, what pony hsvd you turmed into

We are the Meta: Well, you kind of swore to me a second ago.

I stopped for a moment, trying to understand that last line. Did I swear on the head of somebody in the last two minutes without realising it? I looked at earlier in the chat and saw something that froze my blood for some reason. Was I speaking to the Luna I unconsciously swore to? That’s when I remembered who she was.

PeterMartineau1: waikt, oh nkmerciful, m9ik sorry princes

We are the Meta: Yes! Fear my wrath! You shall now be sent to the moon for swearing about me!

I started to panic. Knowing what she was able to do and her backstory related to the nightmare war, being sent to the moon looked like my next destination if she would ever find me. I started to type like a madpony to change Luna’s mind.

PeterMartineau1: ohn pldeasde prk ess, dl nt do it

We are the Meta: …

We are the Meta: You know that was sarcasm, right?

I stared at the screen in disbelief. I knew that I was really gullible, but at this level? I started to laugh in relief. I was going to live!

PeterMartineau1: ... obvkioudly

We are the Meta: Hard to tell with your difficulty typing.

Hooves, I couldn’t care less about them… wait, that means I do care about them. I hate you American slangs. I slammed my head on my desk, realising that it was more painful that I thought.

PeterMartineau1: slorry princedsd

We are the Meta: It's fine.

We are the Meta: Anyways, what was this about a kidnapped pony?

PeterMartineau1: she tried to save her secret by inmfiltratimng a lab and it swsds a trap

For the first time since I’ve started talking with Luna, I’ve laughed at a line I wrote with those two bricks I call hooves. By saying it out loud, I realised how nonsensical it sounded. She tried to save her secret by im-filtra-timg a lab and it sw-is-dis a trap. Sweet Luna, I wished she could understand anyway.

We are the Meta: Hmm, she should have just left it alone. With the condition she was probably in, I don't see why she thought it was a good idea.

That was a good question. Why did she even thought that it was a good idea. She was already on Reginald’s watchlist. She jumbed into a shark pool and expected to come out alive.

PeterMartineau1: me neither4, now , she kis captured sn d i nmeed help.

We are the Meta: Well, I'm not sure how close I even am to you. What city or town are you in?

PeterMartineau1: muxcxatine

PeterMartineau1: lows

Behold, the new mayor of the city of Iows in the country of Muxcatine, North Wind the pegasus. May the crowds roar his name as he walks in his office made out of some figments of my imagination.

We are the Meta: Is that a Russian town?

For the record, I facehoofed at the moment I read her answer.

PeterMartineau1: obviuslyt

PeterMartineau1: jusd

PeterMartineau1: us

PeterMartineau1: muscatune

For the second time, I slammed my head on my desk. How hard was it to write Muscatine without making any mistakes?

We are the Meta: ...Muscatine, Iowa?

PeterMartineau1: yhddyerd   yes

After three tries, I finally managed to write something looking like an affirmative word. For others, it might look like the lyrics for the intro of some underground reggae song. You know, when the singer spouts some random words, trying to make us think that it is 100% Jamaican reggae, but actually sounds like random keystrokes printed then recited loudly.

We are the Meta: I am tired, of all these motherfucking coincidences in this motherfucking town!

PeterMartineau1: wnst dl you ean

‘What do you mean’. Also, it could be interpreted into ‘What did you learn’ and other random stuff that looks like it. Luckily for me, Luna actually had the patience to decrypt my mysterious citations.

We are the Meta: Basically, I met my long-lost sister here in Muscatine right when she (used to be a he) was visiting a friend for their own birthday party.

PeterMartineau1: wolw

I was genuinely surprised. Seemed like silly ol’ Muscatine was having a tourist rush… wait, used to be a he? Does that mean that Berry wasn’t the only one to endure genderbending? I shook my head. It wasn’t the time for trivial questions like that. I had to ask her if she would be able to help me.

PeterMartineau1: ... wkjll youhelkpo md

Well, I hope that sounded like a call for help.

We are the Meta: If I'm reading this correctly, then yes, I most definitely will.

I started writing my thankful response to her when the door to the bathroom opened, startling me. I totally forgot that Reginald was actually using it and that made my last line almost unreadable, mostly due to it being my hooves slapping down in surprise o random keys.

PeterMartineau1: thdn, yoim mnr\\]\\\\

PeterMartineau1: olopds

“Hey Comet, have any clothes I can borrow since I don’t think you’ll need them soon?” Regionals asked, holding a towel around his waist to hide his privates. I grown in annoyance at, again, a pet name.

“Look, can you PLEASE start calling me by either my human name or pony name. Don’t try to find pet names or else you may regret it.” We both looked at each other and sighed. “Look, this isn’t my house, remember? I’m sure B- Anthony wouldn’t mind. His bedroom is to your left.” He nodded, his face showing no emotions as he walked toward his destination.

I looked around, trying to find something that I could use to facilitate my writing. Luckily for me, I spotted a pencil few meters away from me. It’s diameter, being at least ten times less than a bulky hoof, will really help.

That’s when I realised I had no fingers to handle the pencil with. I thought about holding it with my wrist, or whatever it’s called in pony biology, but it was actually a bit painful. So, in the end, I’ve settled with the most senseful idea I’ve had in a while. I would use my mouth to write on my keyboard.

After a long minute, I’ve finally been able to write my answer to the princess.

PeterMartineau1: pencil usage activate

PeterMartineau1: youll need my address

It wasn’t perfect, but it would temporarily satisfy my OCD. There was still the problem of the ‘shift + key’ punctuation, but beggars can’t be choosers.

We are the Meta: I would like to go straight to wherever she is, as it'd be quicker, but I feel I should talk to you first. Go ahead and send it.

I slowly and painstakingly wrote my address on the chat. I realised that it took a great deal of concentration to type with a pencil. I was only able to focus on the keyboard and nothing else.

PeterMartineau1: 2200 5th avenue; here is my address. i dont know their exact address only where it is

We are the Meta: Okay, I'll see you in anywhere from 25 to 50 minutes.

PeterMartineau1: why such a difference

I was able to start the final line using my entire pool of concentration, but as I was finishing it, Reginald came out of nowhere and scared the living daylights out of me. Even if he was just asking what I was doing.

In my surprise, I dropped my pencil on some keys and it rolled on others, making a beautiful mess of gibberish. It didn’t help that I was slamming my hooves on the keyboard while arguing with Reginald on the topic of personal space.

PeterMartineau1: anyway, see yaslkfahsfdshalkfhksdlfhvbdskf\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

“So, are you gonna tell me what was it?” He asked again as I was closing Skype.

“It was somebody who is going to help us in our… Russian situation.” I simply said while placing the portable computer on it’s table.

“And you think that this random guy will help us?” He asked, the tone of his voice showing distrust.

“Well, considering that I will be assisted by the one who started said problem, I guess I can’t fall deeper than I already am.” I realised how evil I sounded when I said that. Reginald recoiled of my mean words and I immediately regretted it.

“L-Look, I’m sorry Reggie. I-I didn’t mean-” I started before being cut.

“No, you are right. I did a mistake and I’m assuming it.” He sighed before slouching on the sofa and grabbing the remote. “I trust you on this one. I sure hope that you know what you’re doing. While you prepare the place for the visit, I’m gonna watch some idiot box.”

I stared at him in shock. “So you’re just gonna sit there… doing nothing. Not even asking who I was bringing home or even proposing some help?” I asked the lazy man. He shrugged before switching on another channel.

“You’re no longer a baby horse. You can invite whoever you want and I wouldn’t care. Plus, you said it yourself. Even if it’s Anthony’s house, it’s more yours than mine.” He laughed before turning in on a rerun of old Spongebob Squarepants episode.

“Well, this isn’t some ‘whoever’ that we are inviting, but royalty. More precisely, it’s no other than Princess Luna, goddess of the Moon and the princess of the night.” I stopped for a moment. “How do I even know this?” I whispered to myself.

“Okay, so a bigger horse with a tiara is gonna barge in and help us fight a Russian crime lord. What is she gonna do? Remove her tiara, scream ‘Moon tiara action’ and throw it like a frisbee toward him, thinking that she is a space scout or something?” He explained, making me wonder where he was getting all of that.

“She’s not a horse, she’s a… Okay, you know what? I’m done with this. Just sit on your lazy ass and do nothing while I prepare something to impress Luna and convince her to help us.” I glared angrily at him. He showed me a thumb up.

“Attaboy!” My face turned into a pretty dark shade of red. Still, even facing such immovable mental wall as Reginald, I knew that losing my cool was the worst thing to do.

“I prefer having her on our side, considering that she has total control over the moon. You know? Moving it, making it rise or fall… using it as a fancy prison for traitors who sent a pony to the slaughterhouse.” I warned him. He paused for a second, his hand still in the air with the remove.

“Are you… being serious?” He asked in a shaky tone while looking at me. I nodded before returning to my cleaning duties. Without looking, I heard a long sigh and saw a shadow looming over me. Suddenly, a hand grabbed some cleaning liquid from the cabinet under me.

“Thank you for helping me, Reginald.” I simply said before leaving to clean Berry’s room.

Reginald grunted before saying what I knew was his last words for the hour. “We better save Anthony, or else I don’t think I could survive with the guilt of letting one of my friend be treated wrongly by some random douchebag. I hope you know what you’re doing… North.”

“You’re not the only one hoping that what I did was the wisest decision, Regi.”