Equestrian Clockwork Tales: The Magnificent and Ingenious Doctor Adwin

Prologue: In which we meet our protagonists in a most extravagant manner, and then watch them get promptly chased.

It was a regular day in Trottingham, not a strange thing in sight. Clouds swarmed the morning sky, painting the town in a grayish light. The market district buzzed with the sound of activity, of gryphons and zebras, ponies and more, going about their daily chores. The industrious locale breathed out a hacking cough as it hastily woke up, the grinding of enchanted clockwork gears echoing as luminescent green clouds of magical waste breathed furiously from the chimneys of burning furnaces from nearby crystal mills.

Yet a strange thing did happen then, or at the very least it was a curious sight. A motorized contraption on six wheels rode into the village, pistons working furiously as steam poured from the vehicle’s boiling engine up front. It was a large and intimidating thing, bulky with bronze and brass plating and weird glowing engravings.

The market went silent as people gawked and raised their eyes, moving out of the way as the metal beast came to the center of town. It halted a moment later, releasing hissing breaths of steam as it slowed to a stop. It went silent, nothing heard except strange mutterings from inside the beast. Then suddenly a platform came rushing out from below, a piece of the contraption’s side extending towards the main part of the crowd. The sound of released air echoed as a metallic door above the platform was opened, a dark curtain covering what lay inside. Gears whirred and a set of poles with black boxes rose from the sides of the platform.

The platform now looked like a stage: it curved in a half circle with it’s floor made of smooth pinewood, flags flying in the breeze around it from the tall poles with black boxes that the crowd recognized as speakers, the flags brandishing three golden cogs covered in dazzling smoke in the center against a white backdrop. The strange mutterings from inside continued to be heard even as the sounds of rhythmic gears and hammers coming from the speakers, quiet at first yet slowly rising in volume, began to drown them out.

“Are you crazy?! I am not going out there wearing this!”

“Dammit, Marmalade, we already talked about this! Besides, what the hay are you worried about?  You’re naked half the time anyways!”

“Yes, but this type of clothing is ... I look queer and puffed up! Plus the stockings itch and --”

“Oh for Celestia’ sake, why must you be ill with stage fright now of all times? You’ve never been nervous before!”

“I wasn’t dressed up like a bloody flower befo --“

“Oh dear, the music is starting. Go go go! You can tear my throat out later!”

A thump was heard as part of a figure was seen barely poking out from the curtain, all eyes waiting and watching. The rhythmic clank of gears and hammers came to a booming volume, the clockwork tune building to an explosion of sound, some surprise clearly around the corner. The crowd backed away slowly, arms wrapped around eager cubs and foals that looked on with gaping awe and excitement.

And then in an instant the beat stopped all together, tense seconds passing in the silent void before the sky was suddenly alight with fireworks. A crescendo of horns, trumpets and trombones burst forth from the speakers, combined with the previous beating of gears, cranks, hissing steam and other mechanical sounds.

It all almost quite literally smacked the crowd with its powerful orchestra, of which it played in a sly, whimsical manner, classical instruments combined with the organized beat of a factory, a slight carnival mood to it.

In the rush of excitement, the crowd didn’t notice at first as a zebra of light orange coat with dark red strips, which curled and twisted at their tips like vines, stepped into view on the platform. Indeed she wore quite the flattering ensemble: a large, semi-translucent, purple silk skirt covered her back as a dark corset tied up her midsection, fishnet stockings dressed her hind and forelegs, and to top it off a small frilly hat sat atop her flowing mane, tipping just slightly over her eyes.

Sweat poured down the poor zebra’s forehead as she stood frozen, eyeing the crowd whose gazes quickly drifted over to her, a murmur passing over the crowd, especially from the other zebra folk who she was quite sure were laughing. The hesitation only lasted for but a moment though as another hiss of steam sounded from the speakers, breaking up the music for a second before the crescendo descended once more, an amused smile painting the zebra as her voice echoed over the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Equines and all, denizens of Trottingham, welcome! Welcome to the wondrous, the bedazzling, the astounding and magical … CARNIVAL OF THE COG!” The young zebra mare waved her a hoof in a presenting arc as a platform descended to either side of her, standing on each a strange musical bot.

Musical instruments of all kind decorated the two bodies of the legless bots, which seemed to be bound to the platforms, as they played the before heard orchestra in an ever increasing volume. Metallic arms with white gloved hands extended from their backs and played with trumpets and trombones, others stringing violins and guitars, the rest operating on their own.

From the top of both extended a bronze stallion head with a wide, tooth showing smile, although they seemed nothing but decorations as their facial features weren’t alight with that familiar glow most machinations had. Nonetheless, it all still caused both equal gasps from the crowd, mainly from the ponies and zebras, and groans and scowls, which came from the griffons.

“Ready yours eyes, lend me your ears, and be ready to be astonished, perplexed, and amazed as we bring to you the gadgets of the future! From clockwork automations to hextech abominations! Powered from everything from the pressurized steams of Stalliongrad, to the cogs and pulleys of Fillydelphia, to the runic power cores of Canterlot! From silly bots to complex clocks!”

The zebra exclaimed in an ever cheerful voice, which did not the bear the heavy accent of her native land of Zebrica. It would have been a fair guess to say she was quite the actress or perhaps was simply more accustomed to Equestria, but in either case if it wasn’t for her clear appearance one would not have been at fault for thinking her a pony instead.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Ready your purses and bring out your gold, alert your eyes and minds, for I present to you the one and only, the true prince of clockwork himself--“

“The Magnificant!” The zebra raised her right hoof sharply into the air, leaning back on her hind legs as her gaze went skyward, another wave of fireworks shooting off into the air.

“The Ingenious!” She raised the other hoof now, standing up fully on her hind legs now before the crowd in imposing height as she twisted her body towards the entrance, sweat beginning to pour down her brow at the effort of balance.

“DOCTOR ADWIN!” With that another colorful wave of fireworks lit off as a flash of smoke exploded in front of entrance, the chaotic racket of the speakers and music bots dying down as hoof steps were heard.

A deep, maddening laugh echoed across the town center as the figure came into full view. The Doctor walked out on the stage on his hind legs, his right hoof wrapped around a dark cane with a handle in the shape of cogwheel, which you might expect he used as support for the difficult act of walking on his two back hooves, but no, he merely he held it out as if it were a royal scepter. A lavish, open, silk white robe wrapped around his brushed light blue fur, the same three spinning cogs covered in a glittering cloud emblemizing the back, with an extravagant top hat of the same color to match.

There were no beads of sweat, or signs of any effort or struggle, upon his features, only a wicked grin as he closed the distance quickly towards the front of the stage. It fast became apparent why as the audience peered up curiously at the pipes and wires hugging his legs behind his robe.

He swept up his cane and swung in a wide, presenting arc, eyes meeting every member of the audience, “Ladies and gentlefolk! Welcome, welcome! I am the Magnificent! The Brilliant and Extravagant! The Genius of Clockwork! The Prince of Steam! The Bachelor of--“

“Uh, Doctor, I already gave them the short of it,” said his assistant, whose previously cheerful demeanor had left with nary a trace, a monotone expression taking its place.

The eccentric showpony froze, the wicked grin plastered on his face as he slowly looked over his shoulder and spoke through his teeth, “I am quite aware of that my dear assistant, if you haven’t noticed I am in the middle of giving a more glamorous version of it.”

“Do hurry it up,” the zebra mare sighed and waved him off to continue, which he gladly did so as his roaring voice returned, “The Bachelor of Hextech! The true modern inventor! The Merchant of the Cog! The Doctor Adwin! Tonight, or today considering this hour, we have quite the catalogue to befuzzle and amaze with! Get ready to marvel at--“

“I also gave that speech Doc.”

The showpony dropped his imposing posture, his arms coming to his sides shaking with what seemed like angry as he turned sharply to the zebra and pointed his cane with a dramatic, sweeping arc, nostrils fuming, “Good Luna, would you let me have my moment?!”

The assistant gave him a flat stare and spoke in a mocking tone, “You completely skimmed over our script, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did, it was stupendously silly! Our regular script was perfectly fine! Yours hardly gave me the time I needed to properly acquaint and introduce myself for one.”

“Our regular script involved you droning on for two hours and boring half our customers away most of the time, if they didn’t start pelting you immediately.” The zebra continued with the dry tone, murmurs echoing throughout the audience. Some quirked eyes in confusion, others chuckling thinking this a jest, an act.

“And what do you think this is doing?!”

“Ruining your “glamorous moment” so you can finally move on? I think you’ve been given enough of an introduction as is.”

The showpony opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He merely stood frozen like that, mouth agap with dagger eyes, before flailing his arms like a temperamental child and stomping his hoof in displeasure, “Oh bloody hay, fine we’ll have it your way, but we’re going to have a very stern talk after this young mare!”

And with that he quickly turned back to the audience and repainted the presenting pose and expression from before, cane tucked under his arm as he chuckled awkwardly,

“Apologies for that, quite, rude interruption but I’m sure, as my assistant so subtly put it, that you are all practically just shaking in your boots to see the dazzling creations we have at hoof!” He spun on the spot and raised his cane towards the entrance, “Well wait no more, for I present to you the wondrous, the--“

The zebra sighed quite audibly as the Doctor began another rant and turned to the audience, a slight smirk as she raised her ear towards them and waved a hoof as if to signal, a fair number of the audience members already getting in on the coming quip.

“Um, Doctor?”

The Doctor growled and turned back around, furious, “What is this time?!”

The response was a boom from the audience as they cried, “GET ON WITH IT!”

The Doctor stumbled dramatically back a few steps, his hat tipping over, a tangled mess of dark orange hair spilling from their confinement to dangle in front of his eyes. He huffed, his face contorted in a stern expression as he beat his hooves against his robe, even though they were perfectly clean, and returned his hat to its proper place, muttering quite loudly, “Restless dogs every one of you, no appreciation for a good build up.”

With that he turned back to the entrance and reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a small, black rectangle box with a large red button in the middle, a thick, straight metal wire with a ball tip extending from the top end. He aimed and clicked the button and suddenly the metal monstrosity on which the pair had come from came to life, blinding white lights beaming from every opening, especially the entrance, as the furious sounds of working gears and hissing steam came back, but this time in no rhythmic beat.

The stage, and likewise the ground around the stage, shook violently as a set of pounding steps could be heard, the crowd suddenly fearful once more as they quickly backed away, all the while the Doctor throwing his hooves into the air and laughing madly, “Yes yes! Behold at my wondrous creations! Feast your eyes on the march of progress, passionate and angry! Dear Trottingham, I present to you my divine constructs!”

The carnival orchestra came roaring back as a dozen or so mechanized golems and automations came marching into view onto the stage. As the assistant had hinted at before, there did indeed walk creations of all shapes and sizes, some were as small as dolls to only slightly larger than a common toolbox.

Others, looming above the smaller creations, walked in perfect tow and symmetry: bronze bots in the shape of earth ponies. Some hissed terribly with each step, powerful mechanical systems of gears and hydraulics seen clearly in between plates, gaslight eyes staring onward. Others glowed vibrantly with runic tracks of greenish light flowing through their bodies, all extending from, or connecting to, a bright crystal orb in center of their foreheads. A silent hum and the metallic clanks of their steps were the only sounds produced.

Griffons crossed their arms and watched with impatient scowls, clearly not impressed as a few voices arose, “Pah, I’ve seen better back home.” “They call these bots? They’re scraps of junk!” “Jeez, they act like they’ve never seen a golem before.” The few buffaloes in the crowd merely quirked their brow, keeping their stoic aura.

The main residency, the ponies and zebras, however, gawked and gasped, some clambering away with fear while others neared in curiosity. Despite the fact that the town did indeed have its own constructs, they were hardly as complex or wondrous as these.

The good Doctor continued to laugh madly, he and his assistant moving to the front edge of the stage as the group of bronze golems took up most of the space. He continued laughing even as the creations came to a stop and waited for their next commands, the pony seeming to have an infinite supply of breath, or madness. Most likely both.

It lasted for so long that his assistant walked over and gave him a rough bonk on the head to bring his attention back, which prompted another amused chuckle from the crowd as the Doctor turned to them with renewed lunacy, “So, as they say in good ol’ Bridleway in fair Manehattan, let’s get this show on the road darling! Ready your delicious coins ladies and gentlefolk, for here comes the first prize!”

“Now, as I’m sure you all are quite aware, children are commonly balls of hyperactive energy, jumping and running endlessly with horrible screeches of joy. To say they are a handful is an understatement, and if I may give my own opinion, they are the most eccentric, lunatic entities around!”

“Are you sure you’re not referring to yourself Doc?”

“Shush! Anyways as I was saying, it is our duty to entertain these mad little balls of chaos, lest they cause ear ruptures and massive property damage in their attention seeking tantrums! Of course we are too busy for such things and conflict arises, but do not despair for I present the solution!”

The Doctor reached behind him and pulled up one of the more smaller, and stranger, bipedal creations. It had a wide box like chest, with thick arms dangling at its sides, its “hands” curled into a tight fist. A long yet small cylinder like structure constituted as a head with a single thick glass eye stationed near the bottom, its glass lens lifeless and dull for the moment. A large, brass clock key extended from its back, begging to be turned, which he Doctor promptly did so.

“What is it you might ask? Why this lovely little fellow! Presenting to you the TicToc Clockwork Friendship Bot X-25, this cute contraption is practically an incarnation of the child spirit in its own right! Sturdy, functional, playful, loving and friendly, and completely harmless might I add, this toy will provide your precious darlings with a never ending supply of entertainment, and in turn provide you with the rest you need from a day of hard work! Yet obviously there is doubt in many of you, so of course a demonstration shall be in order!”

The Doctor spun and turned the key several times over, at least a dozen times, before finally halting and placing the strange little doll bot down in front of him, a click heard as the key snapped into place. The bot remained lifeless at first, its form slumping down. It actually remained such for quite a while that the Doctor, who merely stood with his hooves behind his back and a faltering smile, gave the clump of metal a good kick as coughs could be heard from the impatient crowd. The key suddenly began to turn then and its eyes beamed to life, a soft whirring noise echoing from its innards.

The strange little bot stood up straight then, peering around left and right as it took in it’s surroundings, its arms raised and its hand clenched and unclenched as as if it were a living being coming to life for the first time. The crowd leaned in, examining the bot, especially the children who jumped eagerly on the spot, wondering what this wonderful toy was capable of.

It was the assistant’s turn now, an amused smirk painting her as she called out, “I believe a volunteer is in order! Would anyone care to spare their darlings? No harm will come I assure you, although a playful tussle may commence.”

The audience peered at each other and thought for a moment before a young griffon cub ran forward into the empty space the crowd had made between them and the stage, a confident smile curled around his beak, “I’m game, bring it on!”

The showpony laughed, shaking his cane at the young lad, “Such an eager young cub we have here today. Well, let’s not waste any time!” He tapped the bronze doll standing before the crowd on the shoulder with his cane, gaining its attention for a moment before pointing and turning it towards the cub.

The bot beeped and booped in a caricature of speech, giving the griffon a curious glance, tilting its head left and right. The top of its cylinder head suddenly popped open after a moment, a metal pole rising with three curving blades extending from it, which quickly began to spin and lift the contraption into the air, prompting amused smiles from the crowd although the young griffon took a step back in hesitation.

As the construct landed in front of the boy, he leaned in and gave it an appraising eye, the curious little bot mirroring his movements as the propeller retracted back into its head. Suddenly, without warning, it lifted its right bulky hand and a hole appeared in the middle of its palm, a light spray of water bursting and assaulting the griffon cub. Chuckles and gasps echoed, the Doctor grinning wickedly himself, although he had been grinning the whole time anyway. With a sharp whip of his cane he pointed at the now soaking griffon boy who had stumbled back in surprise, now rather furious, “You have just been bested by a bucket of bolts my good lad! What are you going to do about it, hm? Are you going to take that?”

“Like hell!” The griffon growled, leaning back as his wings and talons extended, getting ready to tackle and strike the little bot which merely looked on, hand slowly lowering, waiting for a response. The Doctor’s eyes widened at this and he stumbled onto the edge of the stage, falling to his knees and reaching over to shake his cane frantically in front of the cub, “Now hold it, I say, hold it! I was hardly referring to being a ruffian!”

The griffon halted his advance and peered up, eyes crossed as his beak curled into a frown, “Then what? And who are you calling a ruffian?!”

The Doctor’s grinned returned and he quickly hopped back to his hind legs, the crack of steam heard momentarily, which prompted more awe from the crowd than the small gun he pulled out from behind his robe and threw over.

“Now a real gentlepony, or gentlegriffon I suppose, fights in style while keeping his hooves, or talons, clean at the same time. This should fit the case nicely.” The child caught the gadget effortlessly and turned it over, a joyous smile breaking out, “Wow, a raygun!”

“Actually it’s a--“

The griffon didn’t wait for an explanation as he promptly blasted the little robot right into it’s only eye. The effect he had intended for, however, did not come, which was a concentrated beam of heat. What did come instead was an intense, concentrated jet of water which blasted and pushed the robot back so hard as to cause it’s collapse. The poor contraption let out an adorable scream of terror and pain, although strange enough no sparks or sounds of failing machinery came as it flailed its arms and turned side to side in panic like a turtle on its shell.

“--water gun… Did I mention they were waterproof?”  

The griffon frowned in disappointment, giving the toy gun another glance over, “Hey, what the hell… Meh, guess it’ll have to d-- Hey!” The griffon shouted in protest as his attention returned to the bot, which had returned to its feet and was now blasting the cub with another spray of water before running away frantically, arms held out as it whirred and continued to scream in it’s high pitched mechanical voice, the crowd giving way as the griffon and a crowd of other children broke free and gave chase.

The Doctor merely stared at the whole event with an amused, yet perplexed expression, lips curling in a smirk with eyebrows raised as he inclined and watched the children go with the rest of the audience, hat leaning forward somewhat. He reached up and tipped it back, stating, “Oh my, children certainly are blood thirsty these days. So!”

The Doctor turned around and picked up another bot, this one tinted a slighter lighter hue than the last, holding it up to the crowd, “Who’s buying? Of course, for those parents who are hydrophobic in any sense of the word, we have versions with the water-cannon omitted, yet just as fun! Total of five models for sale, 500 bits a piece! Get them while their hot, as the old saying goes!”

Voices echoed as the audience thought over the product presented, talons and hooves rose soon enough with bags of coin held, furious shouting and debates rising up as well as the prices were bartered and an auction was created. So it went on like that, with the Doctor presenting his curious devices to those who could afford who then proceeded to fight over the purchase, slowly but surely more and more of the crowd dissipating and returning to their daily activities as the prices rose and the sales followed into the evening.

Eventually only a quarter of the crowd remained, most of which were merely bystanders watching the contraptions that were presented. Slowly but surely the stage emptied, with nary a gadget or golem in sight. It was quite full with hefty bags of coins though, which the zebra assistant had begun to carry back to their vehicle during the proceedings.

“Well, my good folks, my loving denzins of Trottingham, our wondrous and marvelous presentation is sadly coming to a close, yet fear not! For although my meticulous creations of brass, clocks, and magic stand beside me no more, there is a treasure yet to be presented! A true treasure indeed!”

The Doctor roared out at the end of the preceding in the light of coming dawn, catching attention the leaving crowd, bystanders, and previous members who were passing by, who all now turned and returned to the stage, peering up curiously. The Doctor paused and waited for them to gather, cane and hoof raised up in a presenting manner, still standing on his hindlegs. The tooth flashing grin slowly returned as he let their curiosity simmer for a moment before answering it, pacing with slow, deliberate steps around the front edge of the stage.

 “Yes, I hear you might say otherwise, but I repute that although I am the Magnificant Merchant of the Cog that does not mean the other great sciences are ignored! Oh no, from time to time a spark of the unknown ignites in my mind, of something not quite robotic, and I must peruse it, regardless of my confusion!”

“For you see, an inventor’s, and likewise an artist’s, mind is nothing but a chamber from which the projectile of inspiration and marvelous creation soars, regardless of discipline! And it is with that I present to you my latest, flawless, perfect relic I have dug up from the deep pits of my soul, a concoction from the trade of Chemistry and Alchemy!”

During this rather boisterous speech, his assistant had stopped in her duties of treasuring to listen, her brow peeked in confusion at first before her eyes slowly widened as a realization came to. She dropped the coin purse from her mouth and rushed over to the showpony’s side, ducking as he absently swing his cane her way. “Um, Doctor? Doctor!”

The Doctor sharply turned his whole body to the source of noise, which prompted another duck of his cane from the zebra and a growl of annoyance, his free hoof freezing in place inside his robe. He frowned lightly, quirking an eye, “Good Luna, what is it now? Can you not see I am in the middle of presenting my newest creation?”

The zebra growled behind her teeth and leaned in, hushing her voice, “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to present that damn thing.”

“I agreed to no such thing.”

“Oh yes, you did.”

“When?”

“Yesturday! We agreed if I wore this damn dress you would throw that potion in the trash bin.”

The Doctor gave her a blank look, blinking innocently, which prompted a facehoof from the zebra and impatient murmurs from the audience, “You weren’t listening at all, were you…”

“Not at all, and in any case, what is so bad about my potion? It’s entirely valid! Even the expert we ordered in said it was fine.”

“He only said that to get away from you if you recall how fast he ran after he was done. You wouldn’t stop bashing the poor fellow over the head with your ‘genius’, remember? You’re a tinkerer of robotics, not an alchemist!”

“Nonesense! It’s perfectly fine; all my creations, robot or otherwise, are perfection to the divine level! When have they ever failed otherwise on their own merit?”

“If you wish to keep your dignity, you will not force me to answer that question.” The zebra smirked briefly but kept her determined expression. The Doctor matched with his own for a moment before turning his gaze to the growing impatient crowd and leaning away suddenly, waving her off with his cane which forced yet again another duck. “And would you stop swinging that damn thing!”

The Doctor scoffed and rolled his eyes, returning to the front of the stage with his renewed smile, “Apologies, my good folk! Do pardon my neigh sayer assistant, she is one of those pessimistic sorts as you can observe. But do not fear! Safety is insured, my devices have worked marvelously thus far, have they not?” The audience looked to one another and nodded at this, his sold contraptions did indeed, up to this point, not only function well, but exceedingly such to the level of those rumored in the more grand cities such as Canterlot and Fillydelphia; as far as they knew anyways.

The Doctor finally reached in fully beneath his rob and held up for all to see what he had wrapped his hoof around, a clear glass potion half full with a bright green liquid. “Behold my wonderful elixir! The Hair Rejuvination Potion! Sure, not the most original name, but genius cannot be pushed at short notice and the name matters not!”

“As we, especially you fine folk, all know, those great, gigantic beasts of concrete and moving metal called factories are items of both fame and infamy; the greatest infamy being the hazardous fumes released in those facilities working and producing magical material, such as crystal mils. Said fumes are known to cause everything from eyesight loss to the rare and rumored cancers and mutations, and although we may not have an answer to the worst of ills, I have most certainly produced one to the most common, and thus most annoying, symptom of them all: Hair loss! A volunteer is once more in need, who shall step up this time?”

The assistant looked panicked then, frantically looking left and right as she futily attempted to think of some distraction or reason for her mad boss to not sell his elixir. “Doctor, please, I really advise against this,” she pleaded, and then in a hushed tone once more, “We haven’t even tested it yet…”

A figure stepped forward then, a surprising sight. Gasps echoed throughout the crowd as space was made for the renowned individual. It was a zebra, old from the looks of his wrinkled, tired eyes and fading gray and black stripped fur. Flat hair, some spots completely hairless and showing pink skin, was seen where his mane should have been, various strange trinkets adorned his body, large gold hoops wrapped around his neck, and several small rings pierced his face. One hoof was wrapped around a large, wooden staff, engraved with strange figures. “I’ll be da judge o’ yer potion’s powa, young pony,” said the zebra in a thick accent.

The Doctor beamed, ignoring his assistant completely, “Marvelous, marvelous indeed! Now step up, this potion is more of the…skin applicable variety, if one can put it that way.” The standing showpony rushed to the edge of the stage, kneeling down so he could reach over to the approaching old zebra.

The assistant paled as the figure drew closer, rushing to the Doctors side, “Doctor, I really, really advise against doing this.”

“Marmalade, would you kindly shush it already.” The Doctor said off-hand, not even looking at her. Once the old zebra came close enough to reach out to, the Doctor bit down on the glass cork of the potion, pulling it out with a quick tug.

The crowd moved in slightly, especially the few zebra within, watching closely with anticipation to see the potion’s effects. The Doctor reached out then, hovering the potion above the zebra’s head, “Now would you care to lower that handsome head of yours alittle my good stallion? I say it’s well time we brought some life to that bald spot, if you don’t mind me saying.”

The old zebra figure did as asked and the Doctor tipped the potion on its side, careful as the first few drops of the potion fell on top of the old zebra’s head.

Everyone, even Marmalade, gasped in unison, and then silence. Nothing happened at first, and it seemed as if hours passed in those tense seconds before something did stir. A wide line of  gray hair did grow from the zebra’s head and down along his neck where the droplets hit, slowly but surely. They stopped at the length one commonly saw for a zebra’s mane. The zebras sighed in relief, and the rest of the crowd let out an awe inspired “ooooh”.

”It… it actually works… Luna horn me to the moon, it actually works.” Stuttered Marmalade in disbelief, face contorted in disbelief, mouth agap and eyebrow raised high.

The Doctor glanced at her and the grinned, jumping back to his hind hooves, hissing and the echoes of machinery heard behind the lower regions of his robe as he did so. He held his elixir out to the sinking sun, “Aha! The neighsayers have been stupefied and struck down! Was there ever any true doubt?”

As if the world was slapping him across the face in response, two things happened then. First, one of the audience members called out, “Hey wait a minute, we have hair potions already, what the hay makes yours so special?!”

And just as the Doctor was about to happily respond, the hair on the old zebra began to grow once more, except it wasn’t simply the newly regrown mane but the hair on his entire body. Ponies backed away as they watched while the zebras rushed to the old figure’s side, both the Doctor and Marmalade merely gawking the whole time in confusion. When the hair finally did stop growing, the old zebra had become the equivalent to a giant fur ball.

Silence filled the air and no one moved, merely staring in shock. Like a match in a gas filled room, a nearby child was the one to break the tension by bursting into a giggle, and the rest of the pony crowd followed suit, the district roaring with laughter. The zebras were the exceptions, who looked around at the amused ponies and finally rested their gaze on the Doctor, eyes crossed and nostrils flaring, “How dare you,” one of them called out.

The Doctor himself was laughing as well, but his assistant was slowly backing away from the stage with wide eyes. “Oh dear, perhaps that potion was too effective, my apologies!” The Doctor said in good cheer, wiping some tears from his eyes.

Marmalade growled and reached forward, biting into his robe once more and giving him a hard tug, “Dammit, Adwin, start running!” She mumbled through her clenched teeth as she began to drag him.

The Doctor yelped in surprise and slammed his hoof down, tugging back although only giving enough resistance to not be thrown off his feet as she pulled on him, “Marmalade, what in Celestia has gotten into you?! You’re acting like we’re in danger, what’s gotten into you?!”

Marmalade paused and gave a quick glance back at the zebra mob forming in front. The old zebra who was now a fur ball had not moved an inch, as if frozen, and the zebras themselves were giving them dagger looks, slowly approaching the stage as she had pulled the Doctor further away. Her eyes were locked on the old puffed zebra, “Adwin, are you even remotely aware who that is?”

The Doctor followed her eyes and then looked back, shrugging, “Um… a very old zebra? Huh, those other fellows look quite angry, I wonder why.”

Marmalade let go of him then and face hoofed so hard the smack that it produced an audible smack, “You dumb fucking… That’s a bloody witch doctor!”

“Language, good Celestia, language! Don’t tell me your old habits are coming back. Wait… a witch doctor? Huh, fancy that, how can you tell?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the bright white face paint and engraved staff might have given you a fucking clue?!”

“Yup, it’s coming back. Honestly Marmalade, we really must discuss your language issues sometime. In any case, I’m perplexed as to what the problem is. Okay, he is a witch doctor, and?”

“… You really don’t have a clue how bad it is to insult or humiliate a witch doctor, do you.”

“Not one at all. Care to explain”

“Oh for… We don’t have time for this! Just get in the bloody truck!”

“Now, Marmalade, I think you’re being irrational. Perhaps if you calmed down and explained the situation to me, there may be a finer solution at hand.”

“Okay, fine, you want a clue? How about the Luna damn angry mob of my cousins over there!”

“Oh they won’t harm us, they’ll get arrested if they do!”

“…”

“What?”

“Adwin… remember how you said we only go to the peaceful little country and border towns, because there are hardly any guards around to enforce that little patent that would stop us from selling your robots?”

“Yes, but what are you getting at…”

“Oh, I don’t know, see any guards around?”

The Doctor still stared perplexed at this assistant, but slowly did peer over his shoulder to glance at the rather large mob of zebras, who were dangerously close to the stage with some already practically climbing up. The crowd of previously laughing ponies was now quickly backing away as he looked all around and noticed that, indeed, there were no guards of any kind nearby. The realization of their situation hit him hard and he looked back at his assistant panicked, beginning to sweat and squirm, “Oh… I see…”

“Yea! So, get in the truck?”

The showpony chuckled nervously, nodding after her, “Get in the truck.”

The Doctor and his assistant sprinted for the entrance of their vehicle, the mob of zebras following suite, surrounding the stage and furiously climbing its tall edges as they screamed various profane phrases in their native tongue.

The Doctor huffed in frantic effort and fear as he ran on his hind hooves, his cane tucked under his arm and hoof raised to hold onto his hat. The small puffs of steam seen previously exiting the strange, thick network of pipes and wires hugging his legs now came out more frequently, so frequently that after a short distance of running a weird sound of static was heard, a cloud of smoke bursting from side of the Doctor’s mechanical supports a moment later. The pony frantically stumbled with each step then, waving his arms around in panic as he lost his balance and slammed into the ground with a heavy thud.

“Marmalade!”  The Doctor called out, his eyes shifting to the zebra figures to his left or right that had more than halfway climbed over now, reaching and grasping at him with mad eyes.

Marmalade looked over her shoulder and swore under her breath, slamming her hoof down and turning sharply around, running for him. She paused halfway briefly to slam her shoulder into a zebra that had climbed on stage, knocking the wind out of him as he fell off.

“You know now would be a good time to actually use that cane!” She shouted at him as she neared, watching him struggle trying to take off the mechanical skin on his legs. The Doctor peeked his head up at the thought of that and a grinned painted his face as he did just that, wrapping both hooves around his cane and swinging it left and right like a mad stallion, several of the climbing figures ducking their heads and shouting back in anger.  On the third swing a loud crack echoed as he made contact with the head of one zebra, the mare knocked out and away instantly. “HA! Take that you ruffians!”

Marmalade halted behind the Doctor, ducking away briefly as his cane swung upwards, “Try not to hit me dammit!” She growled, reaching down to bite down on his robe, tugging and moving backwards, dragging him slowly at first but sure enough picking up speed. She let out an exasperated grunt as she did this, nostrils flaring and sweat pouring as she heaved with effort trying to carry the pony, “Good fucking Celestia, you just had to put that fucking thing on every time we go out to sell!”

“Well excuse me for being sensitive about my height and wishing to be grand!” The Doctor yelled back in response, now aiming his swings more carefully as he brought it down on one stallion who had managed to grab onto his leg, whacking him hard on the head and shaking off his grasp.

He continued to do so with any other zebra that came close, but as they neared the entrance his voice rose in pitch, eyes wide as he saw several of the zebras at the far end of the stage running towards them, “Marmalade! Incoming! Oh bloody hay, how are we going to get the -- OW!” The Doctor yelped in pain as his head fell back on the wood surface, no longer feeling the tug of his assistant. He looked upside down at her fleeing into the entrance and going left, eyebrows raised, “What the hay are you doing?!”

The entrance remained empty only briefly before Marmalade returned into view, a thick leather strap held between her teeth, said strap attached to a lighting rifle which dangled in front of her. A faint glowing blue crystal was socketed in the side of it, complex glyph design surrounding it. Three gaslight bulbs were attached together and placed over it, wires running down and connecting to small holes beside the crystal. The gem glowed brightly in brief bursts like a slow beating heart, the glyph and bulbs rippling with energy, runes flowing from it and around the gun like a network of vessels. At the front end of the rifle, the barrel curved into a wicked bright red metal pole instead of the classic opening, the thick metal ending in a bulb tip, a set of metal hoops going around it, each circle smaller than the last as they came closer to the tip.

Marmalade held it in her hooves, standing on her hind legs, as she reached forward and pulled down the rifle’s tripod underneath, setting it down and leaning against it as she pushed her shoulder against the curved stock and aimed down its length. A wicked grin painted her face. “EVERYZEBRA GET THE FUCK OFF,” she shouted as she pressed on the hair trigger, the gun bursting into life as each of the previously mentioned components crackled furiously with energy. Hovering just in front of the bulb tip could be seen a small, translucent ball of energy beginning to build up.

The Doctor’s eyes went wide and his mouth stood agap in shock, “Marmalade, what the hay are you doing, are you crazy?!” The pony’s transfixed expression on his assistant quickly caught the attention of the zebra folk, if they weren’t already caught by the previous profanity. Their expressions quickly matched his as they realized what their relative held, and many of them quickly jumped off the stage platform, just in time before Marmalade released the trigger and the ball of energy became lighting that arced across the stage and the district in a concentrated beam. It impacted a brick wall far off and left a heavy scorch mark, a thunder like boom following.

Everyone had remained hiding in cover or crouched down with their hooves over their faces even after the arc ended, and Marmalade happily took the opportunity to let the rifle hang on its tripod and drag the Doctor the rest of the way into their vehicle, flicking several switches in a control panel hanging beside the entrance inside. The platform stage, the long poles with the speakers and the flags, and the two musical constructs left and right of the stage began to retract back into their large contraption. Marmalade sighed with relief, looking down at Adwin beside her, who was currently furiously attempting to take off his mechanical supports once more.

“Oh for the love of…” She leaned down beside the pony, brow furrowed and lips curled downwards as she reached over and pressed down on a metal plate on the Doctor’s hip. A set of cranks, gears and released steam was heard as the iron clapses which bound the metal supports to the pony’s legs released their hold and let the Doctor slip out easily. He sighed in relief himself, dusting himself off as he finally stood on his fours before a deep frown painted his face and he turned to his assistant.

“Thank you, now… WHAT IN THE HAY WERE YOU THINKING?! You could of killed someone! Are you crazy?!”

Marmalade merely shrugged him off as she walked to the front of the vehicle, unlocking a door in her path. A large window pane with two leather chairs and a control panel of various switches, buttons, and levers beneath it was seen through the opening. The zebra’s lips curled into a smirk as she walked in and plopped herself down on the left seat, flicking and tampering with the control panel, the engine out front coming to life as the vehicle began to vibrate “Not as crazy as you Doc, and besides, it was set to a minor jolt.”

“Oh really, you absolutely sure about that?!” The Doctor hissed, quickly following after her and sitting down in the other empty seat, crossing his hooves over his chest with a huff and a pout.

“Nope.” Marmalade quipped with a bitter laugh.

 The Doctor frowned and stared at her as she worked with the controls, tilting his head as he watched, and after a pause reached out to flick a lever beside him, Marmalade’s hoof shooting out and slapping him away instantly.

“Hey, what did we agree on?”

“… I don’t touch anything.”

“Yeah! Good colt.” Marmalade said with a heavy sigh and frown, wrapping her hooves around the wheel in front of her and slamming her hoof down on a petal beneath her, setting the car into a furious motion. Townsfolk bolted out of the way as the car sped without mercy or pause out the town.

“Well, someone seems a tad angry.”

“Oh really, you think so?” Marmalade rolled her eyes, concentrating on the road ahead.

“…Oh! I almost forgot.” Said the Doctor with a sudden smile, standing up on his chair and reaching for a hatch on the ceiling, twisting the handle and pushing it aside as he popped his head out into the open air, leaning out and waving towards the crowds of ponies and other equines on the streets as they passed them by,

“Fear not, fair citizens of Trottingham! The Magnificent and Ingenious Doctor Adwin will return!”

“Oh, would you put a sock in it.”

The Doctor grinned wickedly as he turned and stared out into the horizon of the country road in front of them, a hoof raised to hold onto his hat in the blowing wind, “Never.”