I Am Not Spartacus - Toto This Isn't Crufts Anymore
by Dan's Comments
Based in the 'Your Human and You' universe by MadMaxtheBlack
This story is NOT canon with Your Human and You

DISCLAIMER: My Little Pony is the property of Hasbro, Inc.

The pit is laid out very differently, and Pink isn't wearing her gi. The barriers scattered about are a small collection of suspended poles, tunnels and ramps. It looks a little like a kid's idea of a military obstacle course. The fact that Muttonchops is off on the side with the four guards helping put him in a set of padded armor easily a couple inches thick sets off warning bells all over.

"Come on Percy," Pink calls, a little too sweetly for my peace of mind. She runs through the obstacle course, and only knocks down a few poles. Much to the amusement of the others.

The Great White's arrival forestalls my trying to follow. "Oh that looks like fun!" she says and proceeds to go through the whole course like a champion rodeo bronco. While literally everyone else is too horrified to comment. "Come on Percy, it's fun!" she tells me cheerfully.

Oh crap.

Before I came here, I wouldn't have had the muscle tone or reflexes to do as well as I do. But the trainers, I jokingly think of as 'the war masters' trained me, and a few other humans of good temperament to fight with our brains, not just our fury. I've seen one or two such humans with the guard. They are definitely not for show or standing around all day in armor, you aim them at something, even a minotaur, and they'll cripple or kill it. One of the few ponies I had any respect for, before I came here, tried to buy me from my owners, he knew a good guard for children when he saw one. I wasn't so pleased about his comments on breeding stock, but no pony is perfect.

As Pink stares at the stop watch, she actually looks frightened. "That's impressive."

Good Lord, it was just an obstacle course. I could take a high school football team and do the same or better.

"Maybe you'd better go to the next event," the Great White says on looking at the time.

Event? Oh, that's what had me so nervous. That's why no observers, I realize as I look around. That's why no Armor, and Pink and the Great White are acting like coconspirators rather than Princesses. They're training me to enter in the Canterlot Breeders Cup, a 'human show'.

Double crap. If I make a run for it, both of them can fly and both of them have magic. That's out. For the talent completion I can play the cello, which ought to terrify the local ninnies.

Hey! What am I worried about? If this is a Conformational show, all I have to do is show my teeth, and they'll toss me right out. I don't conform to most of the human phenotypes on Equestria, in all kinds of ways.

Okay, I'll let them have some fun, and just get out of it a little fun myself. Sheesh, sometimes I just scare myself needlessly.

The day is all exercises, running the obstacle course, learning how to stand when being stacked. The hilarious part is the grooming. I haven't had a haircut since before Pink found me, and so, I'm a little shaggy. With the return of the Great White from government duties, the arguments about this style or that grow slightly heated. Yet, they have left the clippers where I can get at them. What's nerve-wracking is some of the words they are arguing: sexy, virile, ravishing, robust, it sounds like they're describing a bacon-flavored dildo with a 10 horse motor. While they are arguing, imagine: Pink and the Great White screaming at each other, I start giving myself a flattop.

"Percy no!" Pink squeals as she yanks the clippers out of my hand. She hooves through my hair. "What are we going to do now?"

"What class were you planning to enter him in?" Muttonchops asks.

"Working breeds, guard class, actually," Pink says as she tsks about the strips of short hair. The Great White wanders over, looking at the utter destruction of her choice of possible styles.

Poor Muttonchops takes the chance to bypass both Princesses' desires and achieve a peace. "Finish what he started, lass, in fact, I'll get a military barber to do him up proper," Muttonchops says, and nearly melts as Pink and the Great White turn their doe-eyes on him.

"Thank you," Pink says, "What could have possessed him?"

"I think he's good at copying, but he doesn't really understand what he's copying. Like a parrot taught to say some things, and not understanding what they meant," Muttonchops says.

Gee, thanks guy. The Great White nods and heads off.

"My brother had one of those huge parrots," Muttonchops says, "He taught it to say 'here kitty kitty kitty'."

Pink laughs at that. "I want to beat that Blueblood," she says quietly, "I know he's cheating, I just haven't figured out how."

Ah, the plot thickens. Obviously too many doughnuts, but that's for another time.

"Feel his wins have been too easy?" Left-Front asks.

"And that they are an affront to the Royal Family of Equestria?" Right-Front adds.

"There's a few shows you could probably enter him in right now," Left-Rear says and leers.

"Finish that thought lass, and you'll be explaining it to her Highness yourself," Muttonchops warns.

Oh crap, they have a competition for that too? Well of course they do. Be funny to participate. Service some mare without ever sticking it in. That would be funny. And scare the crap out of the locals.
------------------------------

The haircut actually went pretty well, but I have a feeling that Pink isn't going to like what happened. Poor Muttonchops told the barber to 'make him look like an officer.' The mare clipped and trimmed, then brought out a straight razor and with the most delicate negotiations I've ever witnessed, managed to keep from so much as nicking me, and she was very glad I didn't attack her. She'd attended a few of my fights, including one where I defeated a loudmouthed earth pony, by doing my multiple dislocations trick.

Muttonchops was utterly horrified by the results, but I rather liked it. The explosion from Pink was going to be fun all around.

"What happened to his beard? What happened to his sideburns? Why'd they leave his moustache?!" Pink asks as she turns a delicate shade of red, and the old campaigner starts looking to escape.

"I mistakenly told her to make him look like an officer. She decided to make him look like a general officer," Muttonchops says, "No excuses, I should have supervised."

No, Pink should have supervised, I rather like the look.

"But, hair," Pink says as she watches her chances of matching the Mighty Poof fade away like a dream on waking.

I walk over and begin scratching her behind the ears.

"No Percy, it's not your fault. I thought I could just leap into this, and have a chance," Pink admits.

Poor Muttonchops looks horrified. I am feeling better. I got a haircut, a decent shave, and this whole idea is wafting away in the wind.

"Enter him anyway," Parasol says.

I swear I am going to crap all over your bed, with you in it.

"You're a princess, not a noble. You are entering him as a guard," Parasol says, "Look at him. Before he looked like a teddy bear, now he looks mean and military." She scampers away. "Too mean if you ask me. But you'll set the fashion, not the other way around. We don't even know what breed he is, so enter him as a 'general' and all that will matter is his performance in the competitions. So he won't earn 'Best in Breed' he might get 'Best in Show' instead."

Parasol, you don't know how much I HATE you at this moment.

Pink is, of course, delighted, hugging her loyal hoof maiden. Then she breaks off and gives me a closer look. "You're right, he does look fiercer."

"And no long hair to grab," Muttonchops says, despite his Burnside-esque sideburns, they are cut tight to his face.

I retreat up to the top of the bookshelf as they chatter about this and that feature of the show. The temptation to just start flinging poo all over everything has never been stronger. Unfortunately, that will reduce my access to both the books I need and my coconspirator. So I refrain from giving in to my baser instincts.

Maybe I should just bring it up with the Great White and tell her I don't want to do it. All I have to do is convince her to change me into an Alicorn, or, I could just tell her as a human.

No, she'd have a nervous breakdown, and I don't want that. I'll talk it over with Parasol. She deserves it. Yes, wonderful plan.
------------------------------

"Parasol," I whisper, "Parasol, I'd like to talk to you." I shake her gently.

"Huh?" she asks as she blinks in the faint light, "Percy?"

"Yes," I tell her, and grin. And suddenly I am not grinning alone.

She throws the covers off and spreads her legs wide. "I knew you'd choose me over Celestia! Pierce me! Percy pierce me with your love! Shatter my reserve and make me beg for your fulfillment. Percy! The gates of my celestial temple shall not stand against your one-eyed stallion ram! The petals of my lady-flower shall be breached by the potency of your mighty male-chowder cannon! Percy! Fill me with your seed of fertility and let the gods weep at the power of our love!"

I throw the covers over her, shut off the lights and give her a good shaking.

"Percy what the -!" Parasol shouts as she pulls the covers down, and looks around dark room. She retreats deeper under the covers. "Percy, I'm fine, I was just dreaming. Celestia preserve me let that have been a dream." She sits up. "You can't talk? Right?"

I stare at her.

"Stupid question. Yes Percy, I'm okay." She gives me a very chaste hug. "Thank you for being worried about me. I guess you heard me calling and came to check." She releases the hug and settles back into her bed. "That was just embarrassing."

I step out and leave, returning to my own bed. Okay, that really didn't turn out the way I was expecting. That mare needs a boyfriend, or some new batteries.
------------------------------

Parasol is jumping at nearly everything the next morning. Pink is very concerned.

"Parasol, why don't you take a little time out of the apartment. Do some shopping," Pink said, then leans close, "Buy something to catch the eye of that special somepony."

Parasol is smiling nervously, but warming to the idea.

"You can take Percy to help you carry things," Pink adds, and then realizes that she's talking to just me. "Parasol? Parasol?" she asks as she heads after her hoof maiden.

I tag along, but stay out of sight.

"Princess Cadenza," Parasol says, "I, I have been lusting after your servant, Percy. I have been having dreams about it, him. Last night, when he heard me cry out, I don't know whether it was a dream or I was half-awake, but he came and . . . I rather embarrassed myself."

Pink hugs the little hoof maiden. "Oh Parasol," she says, "Even Armor has those kinds of dreams about Percy."

WHAT! OH GOD NO! This can't be happening. This can't be happening! That's it, we take off, and nuke the site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure.

"He's back being a colt, and running and playing with his human friend," Pink squeals, "It's so adorable. Imagine, rough, tough captain of the guard being a foal again and playing with his human friend. He dreams it because Percy is safe, and tries to do the right thing and doesn't care about being 'embarrassed'. You dream it because he's here, and you want a kind, caring stallion. I bet he talked too."

"You've dreamed that?" Parasol asks.

"Not what you did, but, someone to talk to, someone who only talks so I can hear. Someone wise and caring, someone I know will never betray me."

Oh great make me feel like a heel for planning on leaving why don't you?

"In fact," Pink tells Parasol, "He's hiding just outside because he saw we were worried and he wants to be there to help."

Okay, I flunked Stealth 101.

"Someone always looking out for you, it's natural to dream like that," Pink says, "I think he'd like to be your friend, and you can trust him. And I trust you to keep him out of the hands of the other ladies of the court." Pink shows her darker side. "I don't hold having those dreams against you, and neither will he. Just remember to ask first, before you act on them."

"How am I supposed to ask a human?" Parasol asks.

"Think about it," Pink tells her, "There are ways. And don't be too hurt if he doesn't notice. Some humans form very strong bonds with only one pony in their life."

"And her Highness got there first," Parasol says and sighs, "Thank you, for understanding."

"Understanding love, it is my job after all," Pink says, then raises her voice, "Percy."

I head in. Pink smiles and gestures for me to kneel beside Parasol on her couch. I do. When Parasol sniffles, I gather her into a hug. The sniffles intensify.

"Why can't I find a nice stallion like him?" Parasol asks Pink.

"Because maybe you've been looking in the wrong places," Pink says, "Percy likes books, maybe you should go to a bookstore."

Oh good grief, I get to watch young love unfold right before my eyes. On a shopping trip no less. If I throw myself off the side of the mountain, it'll all be over in an instant.
------------------------------

I have no idea who this 'Rarity' is, but I'm guessing the riding involved in wearing 'Rarity's Saddles' isn't the kind that would win you a ribbon at the Calgary Stampede. Parasol takes some into a dressing room, and is blushing furiously and grinning when she comes out. I amuse myself by locating the soap they recommend for such things and putting a bottle of it in the cart with the small pile of 'unmentionables' that Parasol has bought. Along with her other purchases: a couple of boxes of chocolate, a few books, all of which have dishabille mares on the covers. One a mare facing a lone, naked and impossibly endowed human, the title is Innocence Defiled!! now with extra exclamation points. No wonder the kid has dreams like that, if this is her bedtime reading. I am also dearly hoping the daikon radish she bought is for eating, and not for other purposes.

I've also spotted Pink trying to be ninja-like in her pursuit. Although she knows I've spotted her, both I and she are certain Parasol hasn't spotted her. The little mare keeps glancing at me carrying the baskets, placid expression, and she smiles nervously before continuing on her walk.

I've not got an eye for pony beauty, other than that Celestia is supposed to be the epitome of equine pulchritude, once you get too far below that, the gradations sort of slip past me. Pink is supposed to be a close second, but I don't see it. She seems like a 'bobbysocker' of out a 1960's beach movie. Not yet liberated enough to be comfortable being anything but a sidekick to the boys, despite being as good as or better than they are. Basically, Sally Field and Annie Funicello are both lovely ladies, but compared with Julie Newmar and Sophia Loren? Not even in the same universe. I look at some of the mares Parasol looks at, and sighs about, the ones on the covers of the books and magazines she looks at, and I am still no closer to figuring out what is equine beauty than I was when I started. Although I have noticed that creatures who give me the willies have some admirers, possibly due to noble connections. 'Breeding' being more important than physical appearance, and if the conversations are to be believed, intellectual prowess.

Reminds me of the Hapsburg inbreeding, although the inbreeding may be cultural norming rather than genetic damage. Don't stand up out of the accepted culture, or you're in trouble.

Lunch is interesting and reinforces my desire to be gone. I and a pack of other humans are tethered outside, while some people are allowed to bring their dogs into the restaurant, and not seeing-eye or other service dogs. A group of punks decides to stand out of reach of the humans leashed to the wall, and toss stones at them. Then I hold up the unattached end of my leash, and they swiftly depart. Asshole punks are asshole punks no matter the species.

Worse for them, Pink decides to go have a few words with them. I have no doubt getting dressed down by the 'goddess of love' on a mission is an unforgettable experience.

Parasol comes out, and hands me an apple, a napkin wrapped around a few slices of salami. I think it's salami. And a bottle of ginger beer. I nod, take the baskets from her and continue on through the streets of the capital city. I come to the distinct conclusion that a Sauron-esque siege would do the attitude of these pampered children a world of good. Minas Tirith this place is not.

The bookstore is small, rustic and for once does not sport a 'No Humans Allowed' sign.

"Hey Parasol!" the light gray clerk with the tan mane behind the counter says and smiles awkwardly, adjusts his collar, cleans his glasses and tries to push his mane back into some semblance of order.

Oh good grief, it twas ever thus. I stick my head out of the store and signal Pink that this is the place. When I walk back in, the stallion is walking beside Parasol.

"What," his voice cracks, "What can I get you, for you today?"

Okay, you're Dust Bunny I christen him.

"Books on the Everfree," Parasol says and glances at me, "He likes pictures of it, so one with lots of pictures."

Thank you.

"Oh look, it's nerd love."

Please, this is not a good time to come in here and commit suicide. Although if dweebs like that can see it, why can't Parasol and Dust Bunny can't see it? Because this place is insane, and without the goddess of love standing outside how will they ever know.

The three of them look like the typical results of the high school football stars who never went to college and never went pro. Big, dumb, and still stuck trying to intimidate people who are a hell of a lot more successful than they are. Three unicorns, they move poorly, little coordination, and I suspect I could take them all out easily. If it comes to that. But shouldn't I be letting Dust Bunny take care of them? Decisions, decisions.

"Keep your voices down," Dust Bunny tells them, and casts a fearful glance at me.

What did I do?

"Come on Sand Dune, you ought to recognize him." Dust Bunny jerks a hoof at me. "After all your talk about the fight circuits, even you should recognize - the Crimson Death - on sight. Never lost a match against a pony? Killed a minotaur unarmed?"

Shucks, you're gonna make me blush. And make Parasol puke all over your shoes, er hooves. Do ponies wear nailed on horseshoes? I haven't seen Pink or Armor wear them.

The three toughs suddenly recalculate the odds. They can have their fun tormenting their usual victim, and his would-be girlfriend, and have me suck the marrow from their bones. Or they can retreat to try again another day. Even these clowns are able to do that math. They withdraw.

"Don't tell me that you follow those awful pit fights," Parasol says.

"No, but when I heard that Princess Cadence rescued a pit-fighter, and that you'd be working with him, I did a little study."

She looks into his eyes, he looks into her eyes, Pink's little hearts slam through their stupidity fields, and they embrace. I quietly walk out, change the sign from open to closed and quietly close the door. The four guards are having a 'chat' with the three ruffians. Pink raises a hoof to me, I gently slap it with my hand, and we sit down to await the blossoming of young love.
------------------------------

Parasol is a bundle of embarrassment when she and Right-Rear arrive back at the apartment, very late. "I apologize for taking so long. I didn't realize how much time had gone by."

You didn't notice I'd left with all your parcels either.

Pink waves off her worry. "I just thought since you were okay, we could take your parcels home and let you enjoy your day."

The light dawns.

Parasol looks at Right-Rear. "You didn't look inside, did you?" Parasol asks and shies.

"Percy took them straight into your room. We didn't peek," Pink tells her.

Parasol relaxes, and glances at me. "Thank you."

"So, have fun?" Pink asks.

Parasol tries to say something, anything, but instead she just squeals happily and rushes to her room.

Armor chuckles. "I can just imagine Twilie's first coltfriend. She'll be middle-aged mare with a hoofful of doctorates, and she'll act just like that."

Pink frowns at him. Then sighs. "Unfortunately, that mare cares more about books than friends sometimes. Someone is definitely going to have to do something for her."

"What, kick her out of her tower, out of Canterlot? Only Celestia could do that," Armor says. He frowns. "And you know that she won't do that. If Twilie left, who would she have? Besides Percy?"

Ah good, someone else is aware, but can they do anything about it?

"What about her guards? All those strapping stallions?" Pink asks, "Or are they Studly Stallions?"

Armor just raises an eyebrow.

"Not even cards or chess, or just talking?" Pink asks, incredulous.

Oy vey! Oh, I have an idea. I head into the kitchen and carefully take down some of the 'better than everyday but not the best' china and carry it into the room. I set it between the pair. Who stare at it and me, thinking deep thoughts. I hope.

"I don't think a shopping trip would work for her like it did for Parasol," Armor offers.

I'm clearly dealing with a moron here. Okay Pink, time to see if you can pick up the spare.

"Aren't there those parties where mares get together and buy cooking utensils?" Pink asks.

Is 'invite the lady to a family dinner' such a hard concept for any of you to grasp? She's your fricken' aunt, Pink, your fiance's sister is her personal student, a couple of nights a week I slip off for an assignation. Is a meal together with perhaps cards or chess or just small talk afterwards such an alien concept, that only an alien can think of it?

"I wish I could think of something to do for her," Pink says, and levitates the dishes back to their cabinet.

That's all I can stands. I can't stands no more. I briefly consider making a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, grabbing the chess set and marching over to the throne room, just to see their reaction. I restrain myself, but do decide that a reconnaissance is in order. I pull the leash off the wall, clip on the collar I 'have' to wear when going outside, and slip out.

I realize my mistake when the Mighty Poof seems to materialize out of the darkness. But he takes one look at my expression and runs off, shouting for the guards. A guard I've never seen falls in behind me as I march towards the throne room. Instead of entering, I climb one of the columns to get into the gallery where the court functionaries often watch the operations, take notes, gossip and generally look down literally and figuratively at the people on the floor. Including the one I came to see.

She's sitting on the throne, tiara off, looking through a stack of paperwork on a small desk. Despite the glass divider separating the gallery from the court proper, and my relatively stealthy approach, she looks up right at me. I wave, and she smiles. Then returns to her paperwork.

Stupid. She has all those responsibilities. She might not be able to attend.

There's a platoon of very nervous guards waiting for me as I exit the gallery. Most relax immediately.

"That twit said it was a monster," the sergeant in charge of the detail says, "Its just Percy. Looking in on her Highness. Sometimes I think he doesn't understand he doesn't have to protect her." The guards chuckle. At least they see the human is concerned about their princess.

"When he isn't protecting Cadence from her," one of the corporals says and steps out of the way so I can head back to Pink's apartment. A couple remain behind me to prevent my 'escape'.

"Why'd he runoff?" Pink asks as the soldiers see me safely home.

"He probably heard Blueblood outside the door and thought a coup was underway. He looked in on her Highness, and then left peaceful as a lamb," the guard says. The guard pauses. "Do you ever wonder, ma'am, what they think of us? Are we gods or devils?"

"Or both?" Pink says, "I don't know. I do know this one jumps at things no one else can see. I'm almost afraid to consider what training he's had to see and understand those things. I've met some of the trained humans in the guard. But Percy is, different, sometimes alarmingly so."

"Like a pony?" the guard asks.

"No, like a dragon," Pink says, "In some ways, he's more like a dragon than Spike. Thank you for seeing him home safely."

"If we let him at that pegasus, there'd be more paperwork to fill out," the guard says and closes the door.

"More jack o'cados?" Pink asks Armor.

"Oh yes," Armor replies.

I return to my room to sleep. My dreams are particularly unpleasant. No axe-wielding or clawed maniacs, no rivers of boiling lead. Just an empty, sandy beach. A set of fresh hoof prints leading into the distance and the certainty of terrible loneliness at their source, and no matter how fast or far I run, I am alone. Always alone. The dawn does not come soon enough.
------------------------------

The shirt has Pink's cutie-mark on the back, and the kilt is new and of a softer material. It's also a plaid based on Pink's mane and tail color. The noise of the place is incredible. Like any other convention center as the show is starting. The Breeders' Club is still setting up as the entries arrive. Ironically, the humans are the quiet ones. The ponies are the ones a half-pace from starting a war.

The Mighty Poof arrives with a string of humans. Their downcast expressions telegraph their broken spirits. I also spot a couple of others I recognize from my pit-fighting days. Then I see the Mighty Poof look right at one of them, and doesn't sneer.

Gotcha. Now I know how he cheats. He talks a down-at-the-heels breeder into taking a dive, and getting rid of his most likely competition. That's the theory, now I have to see how he works it out. Knowing the con is happening is one thing, seeing it and stopping it are completely different.

He directs a sneer at Pink, but manages a smile as he approaches. Pink of course is trying to deal with a myriad of forms and trying to keep the schedule straight in her head.

"You really should have brought your hoof maiden to take care of all that," the Mighty Poof tells Pink, "I leave many of the crude details to my trainers, only taking a hand when perfection is required."

Would barfing all over him be acceptable, tension at chaotic surroundings and all that?

"It's my first time, and I want to experience the whole thing," Pink replies.

"Suit yourself," the Mighty Poof tells her, "I'll save you a seat in the winners' box so you can watch excellence in action." He waves a hoof and heads off.

If back on Earth I took a dump in my pants, I wouldn't have the expression Pink has right now.

"We shall see," Pink says and returns to the forms, and schedule.

While I'm not competing in the conformance events, I still need a medical check to verify I'm healthy and I haven't been abused. Or, remembering the Mighty Poof's humans, that the scars aren't visible anymore. After months of wearing my kilt or more, I'm not happy with being naked in front of numerous ponies, some of which are taking a more than judicious interest.

"Look at him," one matron tells Pink, "You must breed him. Such a splendid balance of musculature is hard to arrange even with diet and exercise." Then she pokes me with a hoof in the butt, I step away and frown.

"And such splendid temperament, you're entering him in the guard category, why the others will eat him alive. Enter him in the service category. Much gentler." She bumps her hip into Pink's and grins. "Much more lucrative and a whole lot more fun."

I am pretty sure Pink is more mortified than I am. After all, this is the same treatment I suffered through for five years, although with less bloody results. But just as dehumanizing.

"Thank you," Pink manages as she turns the color of the old Soviet flag, "I just want to see how well he does."

"Well, you know how short their lifespan is, best breed them young and healthy," she says.

Pink looks up at me guiltily. I don't meet her eye. I'm staring at the pony in the lab coat with the thermometer. If he puts it where I think he's going to put that, I may be disqualified.

Fortunately, he puts it on my forehead. He stares at the result, and puts it on my forehead again. "Ma'am," he calls to Pink, "Please proceed to tent 23E, tell them you may have a sick human."

"Sick?" Pink asks.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I mean yes, Highness, and hurry," the vet pony continues on.

Pink keeps looking at me with concern as we hurry through the crowds of ponies, humans, crates and other items. Tent 23E is one of a series of tents near the 'headquarters'. Why you have tents inside an enclosed building, I don't know. Maybe tradition. Maybe that the tents' structure lets them contain spells better. Maybe it's what they had.

"Hello," Pink says as she enters. There are plenty of cots, human-sized, and one older mare who could be best described as matronly.

"Hello," Matron says and looks at me, "You must have gotten turned around. Where were you headed?"

"Tent 23E," Pink says.

Again, Matron looks at me. "Are you sure?"

"We were getting the medical check, when they sent me here," Pink says.

Matron looks from me to Pink and back. She shrugs and gets a small doctor bag. "Have you noticed any unusual behavior?" she asks.

"With Percy, unusual seems to be normal," Pink replies. Her ears are back, and she's raising her hooves in an odd dancing motion. I give her a scratch behind the ears. "Does this count?" she asks as her ears go to the sides.

"Maybe." Matron looks over and smiles. She touches a thermometer to my forehead. "He seems very calm, service class?"

"Guard," Pink says.

Now it's Matron's turn to stare in disbelief. "He's guard class?" she says, and shrugs, then she looks at the thermometer, and her face falls. "He's well-behaved, I mean he's got a calm temperament?"

Okay, now I'm nervous.

"Very, as long as none of the family is in danger," Pink says. The whites of her eyes are showing.

Matron pulls out another thermometer.

Oh no.

"Don't bite me," Matron says as she raises the thermometer.

Lady, for trying to put that in my mouth, you could stomp my foot and I won't bite you. I lean down to make it easier. She puts it under my tongue and slips a bit of her hoof between my upper and lower teeth. She stares closely at my teeth while she waits, skinning my lips away from my teeth to get a better look at them. She's starting to get very nervous.

I'm getting very nervous.

She pulls the thermometer out and looks. The stricken look tells Pink and me that what she sees is very bad news. "Oh honey, I'm so sorry," Matron says, "He seems such a sweet one."

"What's wrong?" Pink demands.

"His temperature is 99 degrees," Matron says.

Pink gasps. "But he's always been so healthy."

Okay, I'm missing something.

"We can make him comfortable," Matron offers, "When it's that high, it's usually quick, and fairly painless. It's good you're here for him."

Pink is in tears. "Percy, I'm so sorry," Pink says as she hugs me.

I hug her back, and look at Matron. Is she in on the Mighty Poof's tricks? This all seems very convenient. Okay, when I'm still alive in an hour, we can get this behind us and either go home, or finish the registration process.

Matron flicks a light in my eyes, then she sticks scope in my ears. While it's irritating, I'm more worried about Pink. She checks a few of the mostly healed scars. The poor mare is getting more perplexed by the moment.

"Excuse me, this is terribly insensitive, but how long have you had him?" Matron asks.

"A few months," Pink says. Looking up, but not letting go. "We rescued him from a pit-fighting ring. He'd been there at least five years."

If I'd told Matron the same, she couldn't have been more shocked. "He's a pit fighter?"

Pink nods. Matron redoubles her examination of my teeth, but she's a lot more careful about it. Now she seems fearful.

"You can stay here as long as you need to, I need to check with someone," Matron says and leaves the tent.

Pink looks at me, her face wet with tears. "Are you hurting?" she asks.

I nuzzle her, and rub my nose on hers. She bursts into tears and holds me tight.
------------------------------

Armor looks stunned as I carry the exhausted Pink through the door. He gets the doors open and I lay her in her bed.

"Percy," she gasps and reaches out for me.

I gesture Armor towards her, and hold her hoof.

"What's wrong?" Armor asks in a voice barely above a whisper as he brushes a hoof through her mane.

"The doctors say Percy's dying, and there's nothing they can do," she says.

Armor hugs her and looks at me with sympathy.
------------------------------

"Percy, Percy!" Pink calls.

Parasol is supervising me making the breakfast, a casserole-style French Toast. "In here," she calls. The hoof maiden is humming happily, moving to a dance tune only she hears, and grinning occasionally at me.

Pink bursts in. She looks disheveled and wild-eyed. She takes in my being alive and upright, and nearly springs at me to hug me. "You're still alive, still alive," she chants.

I give Parasol a confused look, as she is doing the same. Armor charges in a moment later. He stares at me in disbelief. Then I have two ponies squeezing the stuffings out of me.

"It's just Fancy Toast," Parasol says, "I've been watching him."

"Parasol," Pink says as they release me and step back, "He was running a 99 temperature yesterday. And he still feels pretty warm now."

"I'm missing something," Parasol says, "You two look terrible, he seems worried about you two."

"A fever over 97 even for a little while, is fatal," Armor says as he stares. He gets up on his rear legs and puts his lips on my forehead. "It feels like he's still got that fever."

"Let's take him to a vet we can trust," Pink insists.

"We have one who works with the humans used by the Guard," Armor says, "We'll go right after breakfast."

"Why not now?" Pink asks.

"Because I need some time to wake up," Armor says, sounding shell shocked.
------------------------------

The vet was the same matron as yesterday. She gasps as I enter and wave. Armor looks at the mare. "How?" the poor mare says.

"You?" Pink says, and looks at me.

I sit beside Matron and open my mouth wide. She is just staring.

"Doctor," Armor says, "As you see, he isn't dead. I'd like a full physical. I don't know what's going on, but I want to."

"Yes, sir, ma'am," Matron says nervously, "I can guarantee he won't like some of the tests."

"I'll stay with him," Pink says. She looks up at me with shining eyes, like a puppy happy to see me. "I really don't want to let him out of my sight."

Armor nods and heads off.

"I didn't try to mislead you," Matron says, "I've never heard of anything like this. I've watched humans with that kind of fever lose consciousness in minutes, some hallucinate, those are the most dangerous, and others just fall over dead. I've never heard of a human surviving, let alone keep their mental acuity."

"Can you test for mental acuity?" Pink asks.

"The Institute would be better," Matron says.

"Let me tell you a little about Percy and 'unusual'," Pink says. She grins at me and takes my hand in her hooves and holds it against her cheek.
------------------------------

Matron looks like she's combed her mane with a mixer. "I am no longer wondering why he survived," she says, "I'm wondering why he doesn't just spontaneously combust."

"Why?" Pink says. She looks more calm and collected after she realized that I wasn't going to fall over dead at any moment.

"Okay, temperature is in the lethal range. Blood pressure wrong. His resting pulse is too low, is elevated pulse is extremely low. His teeth, I think they're artificial. They are the wrong shape, and some have what appears to be metal implants of three distinct types."

A couple of fillings and a root canal. I've seen ponies with dental work. What's so special?

"And there is no way he's seven years old," the matron says, "That's assuming he started in the pits when he was full grown, add five years." She sighs.

"You're exaggerating," Pink tells her.

"Highness, I've been treating humans for 23 years for the guard. I have a very simple explanation for him," Matron says.

"I thought so," Pink replies.

"He's a space alien," Matron says.

Pink snorts in amusement.

"Highness, I can't explain it any other way," Matron says, "The blood work will probably add a dozen anomalies to the list."

"If you're asking to use him as an experimental subject, the answer is no," Pink says.

Bless you.

"Highness, this character is such an anomaly, nothing we could learn from him would be applicable to any thing else on this planet," Matron says, "But I think I have a few mental acuity tests I want to run, just to see how big an anomaly he is."

Matron pulls out a plastic graduated cylinder, and a wide beaker. "Does he have a favorite drink?"

"Yes, cranberry," Pink says.

Matron stares, but pours about twice as much in the beaker as in the cylinder based on the gradations. "Which?" she asks and indicates one, then the other.

I pick the one with more in it.

"Most humans pick the taller container, thinking it contains more," she says, "Like a young foal might. Here's another trick." She pulls out a solid tube, and drops a red ball, then a blue ball, then a yellow ball into it. Finally, she inverts it. She sets a piece of candy out and three discs, one red, one blue and one yellow.

I point to the yellow. She drops the yellow ball out. I hand the candy to Pink. That stops Matron. She makes some notes.

"Something wrong?" Pink asks.

"Just, it's unusual to find a human more interested in an intellectual challenge, than enjoying the reward. Unless he knows you won't eat that candy."

Pink unwraps it and pops it in her mouth. "Like I told you, at the Institute, he just threw the prize over his shoulder and kept playing the game."

"That might be why he was so successful as a fighter. He may have been able to rationalize that pleasing the audience was his goal, not killing his opponent," Matron says, "That could be abstract reasoning."

"Don't humans reason abstractly?" Pink asks, "He seems to pick up patterns of movements very quickly."

"Ah, he's good at reading visual and nonvisual cues. I must be telegraphing. He isn't reasoning abstractly, but he does have a higher empathy than most. He reasons keeping you happy is better, so you and I were concentrating on the task, not the candy. So he spotted that, and realized that was the right course of action."

Congratulations doc, you just flunked.

"His spacial reasoning is very high, that trick with the tube fools most humans and a lot of youngsters. They can't reason that by inverting the tube you reverse the order," Matron says, "He may have picked up some subtle hint from us about the correct answer. Where we were looking. What we concentrated on. We'd need to do a proper double blind test to see which, but he is extremely in tune with his surroundings and the ponies in them."

"Monkey see, monkey do?" Pink asks.

"On a very sophisticated scale. There was one instance of a charlatan who taught a human how to do multiplication and clapping the answer. But what he really taught the human to do was see when other ponies reacted to him giving the right answer. Percy could be the same," Matron says, "He's acting very simply and directly, but in a very sophisticated way. I suspect living with him has been both a trial and a joy."

"He watched my maid cook some food, and a few days later tried his hand at it," Pink admits. Then glanced around. "He can actually play the cello."

"He probably learned it from observation over a long period," Matron says, "He can probably pick up some pretty sophisticated behaviors, but the impetus for those behaviors is fairly simple."

"Playing the cello?" Pink asks.

"Maybe the player got a mare sexually interested, or maybe it made the player popular," Matron says, "Remember during that part of his life, having ponies happy with him was life and death. He probably saw how popular the player was, how many happy ponies there were around him, and memorized that as a potential survival skill. He probably never considered how useless it was to a pit-fighter. That's also a danger you'll have. He'll pick things up that seem very important, like seeing me and opening his mouth to show his teeth. If they don't stay important, you'll have to untrain those behaviors. He doesn't understand the difference between temporary and permanent, especially if temporary goes on for a few weeks."

Pink nods sagely. I frankly want to laugh or scream at both of them.