The Conversion Bureau – Mirror Match

A story set in Blaze's Conversion Bureau universe, By Silvertie

Chapter 7 – Special Delivery

A sharp rapping on the door roused me from my fitful slumber, and I groaned as I got up, and stretched; my shoulder clicked, and I grunted as my spine straightened. I was getting way too old to be sleeping on the couch.

Although, I wouldn’t be sleeping here if Dice hadn’t cheated at Rock, Paper, Scissors.

“Let’s play Rock, Paper, Scissors, winner gets his pick of bed or couch,” I decided, “Fuck me if we’re asking the well-adjusted magic eight ball again.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

We presented our choices: I’d chosen Rock, and Dice didn’t seem to have picked anything.

“I picked rock, Dice.”

“I pick scissors.”

“Rock beats scissors,” I pointed out, indicating my closed fist.

“Really, now?” A pair of scissors levitated up in a haze of magic, and snapped open and shut pointedly.

I groaned as the banging on the front door intensified.  I guess it’d be my job to get the door, too. Thankfully, sleeping on the couch meant I didn’t feel pressured to actually change clothes at all, so I was (sort of) presentable already.

“Hurry up, open the door,” an irritated, female voice demanded. “I don’t like this neighborhood.”

“Coming!” I stumped my way to the door, yawning, and undid the deadbolt, opening it. The pony standing on the other side made me take a step back in surprise. “Are you... Rainbow Dash?”

“The one and only,” boasted the polychromatic speedster, striking a brief pose, “Heard of me, huh?”

“Well, yeah... you beat that jet-fighter in a race. That was pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow jogged on the spot for a moment, “I’d be impressed, too. Anyway, nice to meet a fan and all; but I’ve got a package for Duke Cooper.”

“That’s me,” I pointed at myself, then frowned. “Since when did you do shipping?”

“You kidding me? I ship all the time for my friends, although I’ve been seeing a lot of Twilight lately.” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Anyway, Twi said she needed somepony to fly this over here super-fast, so if you don’t mind...” Rainbow Dash reached into her saddle-bags, and produced a small box and a clipboard, “ould oo ease eign is?”

I took the items; the small box was tiny, barely larger than a book, and the clip-board had a bunch of lines marked with red x’s, indicating I should sign with the pen attached to the board - some of it was the usual “sign for delivery” stuff, but there were also pain waivers, and other nasty legal documentation, all rolled into one sheet. I obliged, and filled it out, while Rainbow Dash cantered on the spot, looking around.

“This is one hay of a neighborhood to live in, Mr. Cooper,” she remarked, “PER and HLF activity reports all over the place, last time I looked.”

“Tell me about it. There, that should be enough,” I handed the clip-board back to Rainbow, and she returned it to it’s place in her saddlebags.

“Awesome. That’s done - gotta dash,” Rainbow spun around and paused, mid-take-off, looking back at me. “You know, you’ve got some serious pull to get Twilight to drop everything and crack open the potion vault like that.”

“She what?”

“You didn’t know about this?” Rainbow Dash looked surprised, and shrugged. “Well, I saw her put a letter in that parcel, so perhaps that’ll explain it. See you around, maybe!”

Without waiting for a response, the rainbow-maned pegasus shot into the sky like a rocket, kicking up dust and stray leaves in her wake, and carved a rainbow arc through the air; I shut the door, and returned inside with my parcel.

I spun it on a finger idly as I sat down on the couch again, and pried it open; inside was a small, metallic tube, sealed with a screw-cap, and a small rolled-up note. I put the box down, and extracted the micro-scroll, reading it.

Dear Duke Cooper,

An associate of mine said you were looking for a variant of ponifcation serum that would make you completely different from who you were before.

Unfortunately, while I was able to locate a serum that could facilitate this, there are issues and reasons why we never made this particular formula publicly available in the first place.

The main flaw is that it’s super-concentrated. This was achieved by removing excess fluids, which include the anesthetics. You will be awake for the transformation, and I assure you, it (probably) will not be pleasant. It was unpleasant enough for your human governments to deem the serum ‘inhumane’. As the counterpoint to this flaw, recovery time is vastly reduced; testing has indicated that it should only take a minute or so for you to fully recover and become mobile once more.

Now, I’m told you’re familiar with potion formulae, so I guess you’ll recognize the code on the side of the container. Take the potion orally when you’re ready, and preferably when you have a day or two to come to grips with your new life.

Best wishes,

Twilight Sparkle

I put the note down, and picked up the container. My heart beat away as I turned it over in my fingers, and spotted the numbers and letters printed on the side - a serial number. I turned it the right-way up, and had a read - the first four numbers were the year it was produced in; given that the potion emerged in late 2019, most potion had a 2020 as the production number, the 2019’s all having been used or destroyed. The next five numbers were the batch number, followed by a hyphen, and the formula code.

My heart caught as I read the number.

201900000-EX63-3

I was holding one of the prototype serums. Experiment 63 - potion enthusiasts could only dream of having potion this... vintage. One man got his hands on a 201900001 potion, and he was king of the community for weeks, until he finally converted and moved to Equestria. Nobody thought you could ever trump that. What was made earlier than the first ever batch of publicly available potion?

Prototype potions. Rumors had abounded of these things - word was that they’d all been used or destroyed by now. And now I had one. I wanted to laugh.

“Ugh, Duke, what’s going on? Who was that?” I heard Dice’s voice echoing out to the lounge from the bedrooms.

“Oh, nothing, just a door-to-door conversion preacher,” I lied, shoving the vial into my pocket and kicking the box off the table and under the couch. I don’t know why I did it - why would I hide a secret from myself? Did I want it to be a surprise? Or was I just being my usual, devious, secretive self?

Humans, go figure.

“Really?” Dice emerged into the lounge, rubbing his eyes. “I heard ‘Rainbow Dash’.”

“We were discussing that time when she beat the jet fighter.”

“That was pretty cool.”

“Yep.” I coughed, and rubbed my head. “Uh, wanna have some breakfa-”

I was cut off once more by banging on the door - more hooves. I was really popular today. Dice looked at the door, then back at me, and nodded towards it.

“I got this.” The unicorn undid the locks once more, and opened the door. “Oh, hi. You’re here early!”

I got up and made my way to the door, to see Ironshod and Buttercup standing there, a large truck sitting in the driveway, the ButterShod logo proudly emblazoned on the side.

“Mornin’ Dice, Duke.” Buttercup had a cap on, which he tipped to us. “Got that toilet for yer.”

“Oh, that’s fast,” I remarked, as Ironshod pressed a clipboard into my hands. More signatures. “We only placed that order the day before yesterday.”

“We pride ourselves on being prompt,” Ironshod informed, “If you could show us where you want the toilet, I can get started carrying it out, and Buttercup can install it.”

“Sure.” Dice stepped back, and walked into the house, leaving me with Buttercup, who leaned against the wall. I looked at him, and he shrugged.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I just had you pegged for the pony who was going to carry the toilet.”

“Nah,” Buttercup waved a hoof. “I’m th’ one who installs the durned thing. Iron does th’ heavy liftin’.”

“Isn’t it a bit...” I waved a hand around. “...unchivalrous to make your wife do the heavy lifting?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Buttercup admitted, “But look - I gotta install it. That means gettin’ down and dirty with a sewage system at some point, usually.”

“Ah.” So chivalry wasn’t totally dead. I guessed that there was a lesson somewhere in there. Buttercup took the opportunity to look around.

“So... what do you do for a living? Place looks pretty swanky.”

“Oh, me?” I pointed at myself. “Family got ponified practically before the opening ribbon hit the ground, left everything to me. I’m basically subsisting on their legacy until it runs out, really. After that... I dunno. If the world still works, I’ll go see the world one last time before I go pony.”

“You’ve got family?” Buttercup leaned against the wall. “How much?”

“Mum, Dad and a sister.” I chuckled. “And a brother.”

“You guys stay in contact?”

I thought that one over. “Sometimes. I get the odd letter from cloudsdale, but other than that, they seem like they’re too busy with their new life to write me... which is fine, really,”I added, seeing Buttercup’s face. “Honestly - they’ve got a new life, things to worry about. I haven’t changed in like two years. Ask anyone.”

“Should write your folks sometime,” Buttercup mused, nodding. “Keep in contact, ain’t right for a man to not write his family every now and again.”

We stood there in silence, listening to the slightly muffled sounds of Ironshod and Dice nutting out the finer points of installing new home plumbing.

“Sounds like it’s going to be a fair bit of work,” I mused, and Buttercup nodded.

“Sounds like a job for powder-actuated tools, honestly. At least that’ll be Ironshod’s job. She loves powder-actuated tools.”

“Powder-actuated?”

“Jackhammers, rivet guns, the lot.” Buttercup tapped the side of his head. “Girl’s mad about anything that goes bang and drives a bit of metal through something else.”

The sound of a hover-truck filled the air, and we stood up straight, curious as to what was making that noise; behind the ButterShod truck, a second large truck sat; the doors flopped open, and two spindly robots got out. I couldn’t see the logo, but-

“Bed, Bath and Beyond... what are those sons of bitches doing here?” Buttershod asked, irritated, and I frowned.

“Hey, I brought stuff from them too,” I defended on the robots’ behalf as they wordlessly made their way around the vehicle to retrieve the bed, “You guys don’t sell beds, and I’m tired of sharing with Dice or sleeping on the couch.”

“Wait,” Buttercup held a hoof up, “You mean you two ain’t... you know?”

“What?!” I stepped back, slightly offended. “No, jesus christ. Why does everyone think that?”

“Well, I kind of just guessed, seeing as you two seem so close and all... I’m sorry. I kind of just assumed that you two were schtuppin’ each other.”

I raised an eyebrow. “One, I don’t roll like that. Two, I’m pretty goddamn sure that’d kill me. Some guy on the internet died after shit like that.”

“Oh, there’s ways,” Buttershod assured, a hint of revulsion in his voice. “Like if you-”

I clamped a hand over his mouth, my eyes shut in agony.

“No, stop right there, please. Don’t want to hear it.”

One of the B3 droids stalked up to me, his metallic feet clanking on the concrete slightly, and he held out a clip-board.

[Sign, please.]

I obliged, and filled out the form, handing it back to the robot, who signalled to his counterpart, who began lugging the bed towards the house, and through the front door.

Buttercup and I squeezed to the sides to let them pass, and I jumped as something tapped me on the shoulder.

A much more spindly and specialized robot retracted his arm, and presented me with a piece of paper - I unfolded it, and found a refund for ten percent of what I’d paid, along with a small hand-written note:

So very sorry about yesterday. Have a discount.

-Lexicon

I scrumpled the note up and shoved it in my pocket, then folded and carefully stowed away the cheque. I’d cash it later. Buttercup looked at me, confused.

“What’s that all about?”

“Oh, that?” I shrugged. “Some dude named Lexicon runs the local Bed Bath and Beyond - he accidentally hit Dice with his car yesterday, just as we were leaving your emporium, actually.”

Buttercup frowned. “Big, flash car?”

“Oh yeah,” I nodded. “How’d you guess?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time somepony got hit by a car leaving our store. Most of ‘em are hit-and-runs, too.”

“Whoa. Is that road a problem-street or something?”

“Problem? Try ‘trap’,” Buttercup jabbed a hoof into the ground. “Every person hit by a car was a pony, you know. And those cars? Usually, no plates.”

“HLF?”

“Could be,” Buttercup nodded. “Watch yourself, and watch out for Dice, too, okay?”

Suddenly, my pocket began to scream; a terrible, startling, blood-curdling scream, and Buttercup clutched a hoof to his chest in shock. I joined him too, being still unfamiliar with my new choice in ringtone.

“Celestia alive, Duke,” he gasped, “That sound... what is that?!”

“My phone, so I know it’s important,” I replied, recovering faster than Buttercup did, and fishing out the offending piece of technology to answer it. “Hello?”

“Heey, how’s our favourite son?”

I stifled a swear. “Oh- Hi, mum. I didn’t know they had phone lines running into Cloudsdale?”

“Oh, they don’t, darling. We’re down at the bus station! Your father, Glitter and I thought we’d drop by and give you a surprise visit!”

“Oh... how wonderful,” I choked, silently apologizing to Buttercup as I made my way through the house, trying to find Dice. “Uh... are you going to be staying long?”

“Oh, we’ll be around for a while, we’ve got a few friends we want to visit. But don’t worry, we won’t intrude; we’ve got a very nice hotel all picked out. Your father makes quite a lot of money as a Snowflake designer, you know, and we...”

I let my mother ramble on, and covered the microphone on my cellphone as I entered the bathroom.

My bathroom was a strange one. Rather than have tiles or some other surface more suited to a high-water environment, it had thin, dark-blue carpet. In addition to the tan bath/shower combo, it had its own toilet, in addition to the other toilet which got a room all of its own.

It was here that Dice and Ironshod were standing, discussing the logistics of ripping an existing toilet out of the ground and replacing it with a sunken bidet. Presumably, this was the toilet most easily replaced.

“...so, how long should it take?” Dice asked, and Ironshod checked her clipboard.

“All things going well, we should be done in a couple of hours, actually,” she estimated.

“Really? That’s pretty fast.”

“Magic makes home improvement a breeze, I’ll tell you that right now.”

I stood next to Dice, and slapped him on the shoulder, interrupting his conversation with Ironshod.

“Ow, hey, Duke. What?”

“It’s mum,” I replied, and Dice’s jaw dropped a little.

“Oh shit, seriously? What’s she doing with a phone in Cloudsda-”

“She’s right here in town.”

“Fffff...” Dice looked at Ironshod, who was looking confused. “Could you please give us a moment, Ironshod?”

“...sure, no problem,” Ironshod nodded, and backed out of the bathroom with a clipboard of her own. I shut the door and activated the speakerphone for my cellphone.

“...and the frescoes! You would not believe the frescoes - hey, there’s a bit of an echo, what’s going on, Duke?”

I looked at Dice. Our mother might ramble on, but give her an inch and she’d work out the next mile and a half in a heartbeat. Scary stuff. I cleared my throat.

“Nothing, just working in the bathroom on the toilet, need two hands. What say I meet you guys at the station? The town’s not that safe these days.”

“That’s a great idea!” our mother said, “We can go get lunch!”

“Yeah, and... uh, while I’m there, I’ll introduce you to... a friend.”

“Oh ho ho, has my little Dukey gotten a girlfriend? Finally snagged that Magdalene girl?”

“Ugh... no. No. We’ve been over this.” I face-palmed. “Tell you what, you pick a restaurant; we’ll meet you there.”

“Oh, alright. Is that quaint little cafe on the corner of Wattson and Surge still there?”

“Yes, mum,” I sighed. “You want to go there? It’s a dive.”

“We’ve been going there since before you were born, Duke - we’re going.”

“Fine. See you there.” I hung up, and looked at Dice.

My equine counterpart shrugged, and grimaced. “It’s every closet pony’s nightmare, come true.”

======

“Parents?” Ironshod asked, raising an eyebrow, “Why are they such a big deal?”

“Because we haven’t had a chance to break... recent life changes to them,” Duke pointed out, and Ironshod’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh. OH. I get you,” Ironshod nodded.

“We’re not gay!”

“Of course you’re not. Buttercup and I fully support your life decision, for what it’s worth.”

“I- augh.” Duke gave up, and made for the front door. “Come on, Dice. Let’s go meet the parents.”

I smiled apologetically at Ironshod. “Sorry to split like this. Don’t worry about locking up, just tell Alice that you’re done and she’ll do it for you.”

“Alice?”

“Hello, Ironshod,” chimed in the AI from the ceiling, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Please notify me if there is anything you need.”

“Oh, an AI,” Ironshod nodded. “Sure. We got this - We’ll be done in a few hours. Thanks for choosing ButterShod Emporium for your toilet needs!”

“Uh, yeah, no worries,” I nodded, and turned to follow Duke. We exited the house, and walked down the driveway.

At the end of it, I paused, and looked back - Ironshod and Buttercup had returned inside, and the droids were busy robo-handling a bed through the main doorway. Except one, the one that had given me the note, which was leaning casually against the rear of the truck.

Was it just me, or... was it watching me?