Chapter 3

After a few more moments I decide to break the silence, "So...who wants to watch ponies?"

Jim chuckles and shakes his head while Sherry cocks her eyebrow and just gives me a small smile. I throw an arm around each of their shoulders and herd them inside to the couch, where I get them to sit down next to each other. I then pour us each another glass of Jameson and sit down in the overstuffed chair adjacent to the couch. I pick up the remote and start an episode of MLP before they can say anything about the arrangement.

The episode I selected was the one where Trixie first comes to ponyville. I glance over at Sherry and she lifts her glass in salute to my choice. I then see her cuddle in closer to Jim, who kind of looks like a scared rabbit. When the credits start to roll I queue up the second Trixie episode, knowing that it's Sherry's favorite. I see her smile and lay her head on Jim's shoulder. Jim, starting to loosen up a bit, carefully puts his arm around her.

They sure look cute together, I think to myself. I try to keep the smile off my face but fail miserably, so I cover it by faking a yawn and covering my mouth with my hand. This actually fits perfectly with my secret plot. As the episode continues I fake a couple more yawns and act like I'm having a little trouble staying awake. Then, just before the episode builds to its conclusion, I stand up and hand the remote to Jim and walk into the kitchen to put my glass in the sink, catching Sherry's eye and giving her a wink as I do. I walk back out to the TV room afterward, intending to beg off tired and head home. I glance up at the show and see it's where Twilight challenges Trixie to the rematch and I get caught up in it. When it gets to where Twilight turns Applejack into a 'stallion' I shudder involuntarily, and think about how really weird that would feel. I shake my head to clear it and then say, "Well, I'm pretty tired, think I'll go home now."

Sherry smiles at me and waves, and Jim says, "Dude, are you sure? It's still early!"

"Yeah, it's been a long day, and I'm planning to get up early tomorrow and spend the day working in my shop. I suddenly have the urge to start a new project," I answer, realizing that is exactly what I want to do.

"Okay bro, if you're sure. Happy birthday again man, hope you sleep well," he says, a little perplexed.

I smile at them and wave my goodbye, heading out the front door. I climb into my car, a 1970 Oldsmobile 442, patting the dash lovingly as I turn the key and hear the engine roar. I love this car, having spent a lot of hours carefully restoring it. It took me a long time to get all the parts together, as well as a fair bit of cash outlay, but it was all worth it. I'd dreamt of this car ever since I was old enough to love a car. It probably didn't help that my dad had let me watch Demolition Man a couple of times when he probably shouldn't have. He also was always telling me about an old friend of his who had a '69 442 long ago. He was always talking about how she outraced everyone in that car, and that it could do a ten second quarter. It wasn't until I was much older that I understood what that meant, and how fast that really was.

I decide to go for a bit of a drive, as I'm not really tired yet. I take it slow away from Jim's house, listening to the engine rumble appreciatively. I take a leisure drive out to an old highway nearby where I know I can open her up without getting in trouble. When I get to the old road I stop on an imaginary starting line and rev up the engine, taking the rpms almost to red line and back down a few times, just listening to the screaming roar of the 455 cubic inch engine. I let off the clutch, dropping all 425 horses and 500 foot-pounds of torque to the rear wheels, going from 0 to 60 mph in less than four seconds. Damn that feels soooo good I think to myself, grinning like a madman as I tear down the road at well over a hundred miles per hour. After a few miles I slow it down and start for home, feeling like this has been a pretty great birthday after all.

I pull into my garage and shut off the engine and climb out of the car. I close the door and stretch, reaching my arms way above my head, feeling my back pop in several places. Suddenly tired, I yawn and scratch my head, thinking hmmm...time for a haircut again I guess. I walk into the house and then to my bedroom and, dropping my shirt and pants on the floor, drop into bed. My head barely hits the pillow before I'm deep asleep.

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I'm lying on my bed reading a book. I realize this book is very familiar to me, so I read the page I just read again. I realize this is a book I wrote, which is odd because I don't remember writing a book. I reach out and close the book with my hoof, flipping it so I can read the title: "Mixed Pony Tactics: Fighting Superior Forces with Earth Ponies, Pegasi and Unicorns."

Suddenly I can remember everything that is in the book, and I know I wrote it from my own personal experiences, though I can't remember what those experiences were. It is totally baffling to me. I stare at the book for a moment when it strikes me that I had used a hoof to close it. I look down at my arms and realize they aren't arms anymore, they're legs, and yes they end in hooves instead of hands. I'm getting ready to start freaking out when I realize I must be dreaming. I shake my whole body, thinking this is really weird. I recognize this dream, but I've never had any control of it before. Maybe I can see myself?

I stand up and walk over to a mirror that is standing in the corner of the room and stare at my reflection. I am a pony. A dark, midnight blue, pony. With a bright blue mane that is streaked with purple, silver, black and grey. I realize that this body feels strong, very strong. I feel stronger than I have ever felt before; it is kind of a heady feeling.

Turning away from the mirror I see a flanged mace lying next to the bed. It is the same mace that I remember from my previous dreams. It's the same mace from my tattoo I realize with some shock. I knew I'd seen that before!

I look around, expecting Discord to show up any second. He doesn't show, but I do hear a weird noise. It's getting louder and more persistent. It gets to an ear-splitting level and I reach up to cover my ears.

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I clap my hands over my ears as I sit up in bed, breathing heavily from the sudden awakening. I glance around to locate the source of the noise when I spot my phone on my nightstand and remember I set an alarm. I fumble with the phone until it finally shuts up.

I groan and flop back, what a weird dream I was having. Imagine thinking I wrote a book about pony tactics. I mean, everyone knows that if you're attacked by a superior force you should use your pegasi as a harrying or flanking force while the unicorns cast attacking or distracting spells from a distance. And you use your earth ponies as a crushing charge or last line of defense, depending on your terrain--whoa, how do I know that? Wtf brain?

I finally shrug it off, figuring it's just leftover from my crazy dream. I pull on my pants and grab a ratty old shirt and head to the kitchen to eat a bowl of cereal before making my way out to my shop.

When I get to the shop I open the bay doors and turn on the overhead lights. I call it my shop, but it's really a lot more than a shop. I have a large propane forge on one wall with a true anvil near it on a stand. My hammers, tongs, gloves and apron line the wall behind my workbench which has a ten inch vise bolted to it. On the other side of the shop there is a 60 gallon air compressor and my arc and wire welding rigs. All of my equipment was well-used, and most of it had been before I got it, but this shop was my real pride and joy, even more than the car I rebuilt. This is where I come to be at peace. Pounding on hot steel made me feel like everything is right in the world.

Many a day I spend in my shop just working on whatever comes to me, letting the universe guide my hammer. Sometimes I sell what I make, though that is usually custom work that has been ordered by a customer, hey even I have bills. Most often though, I store or give away what I make. I never knew what I was going to end up with when I started on a project for myself, but in the end it never really matters to me.

I put on my leather apron, safety glasses and heat gloves, fire up the forge, pull down some steel stock and begin heating it. Once the metal glows a bright yellow I pull it from the fire and commence to hammering it on the anvil. Soon I am lost in the process, feeling the work. I set the first piece aside and get another bar of steel. After an hour or so of heating, hammering and reheating, I set aside yet another piece of steel and watch it cool. I now have seven pieces of steel in front of me, one is a rod about two feet long, tapered at one end and I have chiseled grooves in the other end. Six grooves, to match the six flat pieces of steel lying next to the rod. As I look at it I realize what I am making. Seems fitting, I guess, I think to myself as I carry the steel over to the other side of my shop and put on my welding helmet. I fit the plates into their grooves and proceed to weld a bead up and down both sides of each plate. Once the welds have cooled I take the work over to my forge and use a long pair of tongs to heat the entire piece to a bright orange and quench it in an oil bath.

Once it has cooled I hold up the piece. It is the same flanged mace I have tattooed on my hip. The same flanged mace from the dreams I have been having since I was little. There's even a ring on the end so I can hook it to a belt. I look at it for a long time. Then I shake my head and set it on another shelf next to some pieces I made the week before. I then pick up one of those pieces and look at it. It is a helmet, but not one that would fit any person I'd ever seen. I set it back down next to its twin and pick up the matching armor. It is oddly shaped too. I hadn't shown anyone these pieces yet because I had no idea what they meant to me. They weren't for people, that I was sure of. They almost look like they are meant for...ponies? But that makes no sense. Maybe my dreams have been infecting my work recently? I put back the armor piece I was holding and pick up the last piece I made last week, which was a damn big piece of armor. It was sized almost big enough for me, but seemed made for a woman, so I had no idea who it could be for. I looked from it to the smaller piece of armor I had just set back down, noticing that the smaller piece had holes in the back. Almost like...for wings?

I put the big piece of armor down and pondered the five pieces together, feeling they were somehow connected. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

I shut down the forge and cleaned up my work, brushing my hair out of my eyes every few moments. Wait...how is my hair in my eyes? I wondered. I stopped and actually looked at the hair hanging in my eyes, is...is my hair blue?! I run into the house and to the bathroom and flip on the light. Then I stop dead, just staring into the mirror. What...The...FUCK?!? My hair is indeed blue. Bright blue. With purple, silver, black and grey streaks. Just like in my dream!

I continue to stare at my reflection, still in shock. How had my hair changed colors? Why were they the same colors as the hair in my dream? Did someone dye my hair while I was sleeping? Could I have done it myself and forgotten, like the tattoos? Wait, it's longer too! How could it be longer? I don't think it was this long when I woke up this morning...was it?

I soon gave up the idea that I had been pranked; no one would have done it, not even Jim. Not to mention that no one could have known the exact color scheme I dreamed about the night before. I was also pretty sure I hadn't gotten it dyed and forgotten. I would have had to do it yesterday, and I spent the whole day with Jim. So that left me without a reasonable explanation for it.

Looking in the mirror again I realize there is something else different. My eyes...my fucking eyes! How did my eyes CHANGE COLOR? My eyes were magenta, freaking magenta! "What the hell is happening to me?!" I yell at the top of my lungs. I sit down on the toilet and try to get my bearings. After a few minutes I remember that I ran out of my shop without closing it up and locking it, so I stand up and walk out of the bathroom, closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to see myself in the mirror again right now. I go out and make sure the shop is cleaned up then turn out the lights and close the bay doors, making sure to lock them.

When I walk back into the house, much calmer now than I was before, I realize that I am drenched in sweat and covered in soot and oil. I decide that I need to shower before I do anything else, so I trek back to the bathroom, getting a towel from the linen closet on the way. Still not ready to see myself again, I don't look in the mirror as I turn on the shower and strip down. I step into the shower and start by lathering up my body, taking care to get all the soot and oil scrubbed off. While scrubbing I notice tenderness in my chest and wonder briefly if I strained something while working in the shop. I also find a sensitive spot just above my butt, right at the base of my spine. It didn't hurt, it was just sensitive. I soon forgot about it though as I started thinking about washing my hair. I normally keep my hair in a buzz cut like I did when I was in the military, but now it is much longer. Not to mention the color.

I decide the best way to handle it is to face it straight on and attack it like I would an enemy. I pour a bunch of shampoo into my hand and start scrubbing my hair as hard as I can. I soon realize I need even more shampoo. I have never had long hair before and have no idea how much shampoo this can take. Finally the hair is all washed and I am able to rinse out the shampoo. I just stand there under the spray, trying to think about the situation rationally. I can't think of a single logical explanation for any of this. When the water finally turns cold I am no closer to figuring it out, but am forced to get out of the shower.

Once I am out and dried off I decide I need to man up and look in the mirror again. I close my eyes and stand directly in front of the offending piece of glass and force my eyes open. Nothing has changed. My hair is still longer than it should be, the color is all wrong, and my eyes are still messed up. But at least nothing else seems to have happened while I wasn't looking.

I head to my bedroom, get out some clean clothes and get dressed. Once I'm done with that I sit on my bed and think about my next step. At first I think about hiding out here until this goes away, but I know that Jim will worry if I avoid him. He would come to see me and really worry if I didn't open the door when he came. Thinking about it, I realize that it is silly to hide this from him, he won't think less of me, and might be able to help me think of a solution. So I pick up my phone and dial his number.

"What's up bro?" he answers.

"Hey Jim...are you busy?" I ask, evading his question.

"I'm having lunch with Sherry, but other than that not too busy. Why?" he asks.

"I...have kind of a situation. Do you think you could drop by my place when you're done?" I reply.

"Sure man. Are you okay? If it's an emergency I can come right now," he says.

"No, no. Not an emergency. When you're done there is fine. I'll be here when you get here, just let yourself in," I say.

"Okay bro. See you in a little bit."

"Thanks dude. See ya."

I hang up and then it hits me that I could look this up on the internet. Maybe someone has heard of something like this happening before. So I turn on my computer, sit at my desk, and spend the next hour looking up information. I don't find much of anything. Spontaneous hair color change can happen, but it's only ever been recorded to go white, usually from a great shock. Hair can grow fast, but not this fast, at least not in any known history I could find. Last, but not least, spontaneous eye color change is exceptionally rare, almost always the result of some kind of injury to the head or eye, and that the change is a subtle variation, not a full blown color change. And magenta is not physically possible in any species on our planet.

I'm following a lead to yet another dead end, scratching my suddenly very itchy butt, when I hear from behind me, "Hey bro, we're here--oh my god, what happened to your hair?"

I turn to face him as I realize he said "we're here" not "I'm here" and see that Sherry is indeed with him. I forgot to tell him to come alone. As I turn fully to face them both of their faces go white as sheets. Jim's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

"Dude, I know the hair is weird, but it's not that bad, geez!" I say to him.

Jim silently shakes his head and points at me, then Sherry says, "Henry, it's not your hair...it's your ears." Then she reaches up and touches her ears.

"What are you talking about?" I say, reaching up to touch my ears. Only my ears aren't where they're supposed to be. I start touching further up my head, until I hit fur and finally my ears. What are my ears doing up here? I think as I continue touching them, confirming that they are really my ears. They feel soft and lightly furred. I hear a sound from the other room and my ear swivels toward the sound. Okay, that felt weird, I think to myself. Then I see Sherry's eyes roll up into her head and she falls to the ground in a faint. Jim doesn't look much better.

"Henry?" he finally gets out. I just nod in reply.

"H...how? What? Why?" he seems to be limited to one word questions right now.

"I don't know bro. I noticed my hair earlier, that's when I called you. The ears are new though," I respond.

"Damn bro...I don't know what to say," he gets out, his color looking a little better now. He looks down at Sherry and stoops down to check on her. She seems to be coming around so he helps her sit up. She shakes her head a few times and I see her color returning.

"Are you okay?" I ask her.

"Yeah, I think so. Just a shock, you know?" she says before slowly looking back at me. She shivers a little bit at seeing me, but remains calm.

"I don't know what is happening to me," I say to them, closing my eyes and covering my face.

They come over and pull me into a group hug, patting my back consolingly. I try to convince myself that I'm not going to cry, but I can't stop it and soon I am sobbing into their shoulders. They just hold onto me and let me cry. I feel embarrassed for crying in front of both of them two days in a row.

Finally we break apart and they both look at me, not staring so much as analyzing what has changed. I let them look, knowing how much of a shock it is, also knowing that I need to go look in the mirror again to see the new change for myself. My ear flicks on its own in response to a fly buzzing close to it. Jim and Sherry's eyes open wide at that.

"That is sooo...weird," says Jim.

"You think it's weird? Try feeling it happen to your own body, this is the weirdest feeling I have ever had," I say.

"Does it hurt?" asks Sherry, to which I shake my head.

"It just feels weird. And I've never had hair this long before. I freaked out when I noticed the hair, and the eyes," I say.

"I didn't even notice your eyes," says Sherry, looking closely at my eyes. "Wow, they're really...pretty." She blushes a little bit at that, but I understand what she means. They are a very girly color.

"Dude, I'm sorry, but I have to address the elephant in the room here...I think you're turning into a horse," Jim says, looking a bit worried.

"Yeah, or maybe a pony. A very colorful pony at that," I say in response.

"Wait, by colorful...you don't mean like a cartoon pony? Like as in MLP?" asks Sherry.

Jim nods thoughtfully and says, "We certainly can't rule that out. The question on my mind though, is what's causing this? How do stop it and reverse it?"

"I was researching my symptoms when you showed up. Everything I find says that these changes are all but impossible, and certainly not with these kinds of results. These kinds of colors are physically impossible for humans. Our DNA just doesn't allow for these colors," I tell them.

"Okay, so no help there, except now we know what it can't be. That makes me think it might really be cartoon ponies. I know it sounds crazy, but in the show they have magic. What if that magic is real? I can't say I really think you are turning into a pony from MLP, but the similarities are kind of interesting. You even have ink on your hips, extremely vivid and bright ink at that. They really do look like some kind of cutie mark," Jim says.

"You have a cutie mark?" says Sherry excitedly. "Let me see!"

I lower my pants enough that she can see the tattoos on my hips, she practically squees in excitement. She studies them very closely, then reaches out and touches them, one after the other.

"They don't match!" she says.

"I know, I know...but we don't have much else to go on," I say.

"Henry, do you think the changes are going to get worse?" Jim asks me.

"I'd like to say no...but the evidence so far tells a different story. Speaking of which, I still need to see my new um...appendages," I say before heading to the bathroom to look into the mirror again.

I look at myself and reach up to feel my new ears. They feel like a part of me, almost like I never had any other ears. They are covered in dark blue fur and are very soft. I look for other changes and realize that my hair is even longer, reaching most of the way down my back now. I lift it up in the back and find that it's not just growing out of the top of my head, but out of my neck and a ways down my back too. I start checking the rest of my body and absentmindedly reach back to scratch my butt. Then a funny look crosses my face, because I feel something odd back there. I turn to the side and pull my pants down in back to see a hunk of flesh sticking out of my lower back, and it's covered in hair. Hair that is the same color as that coming out of my head now. I pull my pants back up and exit the bathroom, returning to Jim and Sherry.

"So...I have yet something else to share with you guys," I say, turning around and pulling my brand new tail out of my pants and show it to them. Sherry immediately starts running her fingers through it.

"Wow, it's so soft and silky!" she states.

"I know! It feels really good to run my fingers through it too. And my mane," I say.

"Your mane?" Jim asks.

I lift my hair up and show them how it's growing out of my neck and shoulders and say, "Yeah, my mane. It's more than just hair now. I, well, I kind of like it." I blush bright red as I say the last part.

"I can understand that, your hair is so nice. It's really pretty too," says Sherry, also blushing at what she just said.

"What's wrong with you two? Am I the only one who is still worried about all of this?" asks Jim pointedly.

"I...I'm not sure what's going on, Jim. I'm still worried, but I feel calm about it. Right now it's not like there is anything I can do to stop the changes yet," I say in reply.

"I guess you have a point, it's just weird to see you so accepting of these changes. I don't think I could handle it nearly as well as you are," he says to me.

"I might be able to...I always kind of wanted to be a pony," says Sherry, blushing again at her confession.

Jim and I both look at her for a moment, then I nod my head and say, "I can understand that, though it is a big difference when it's actually happening to you."

"I guess that makes sense," she says to me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make light of your situation."

I smile at her and respond, "I didn't think you were making light of the situation at all, I'm glad you feel that you can be so honest with us."

Sherry smiles at Jim and I, "I'm glad I can be here for you through this. We're in this together, always remember that. Whatever happens to you, we are with you all the way." Jim nods his head in agreement with Sherry's words.

"You guys have to stop or you're going to make me cry again!" I say in gratitude. "A girl couldn't have better friends than you two."

"Did you just refer to yourself as a girl?" asks Jim, shock plain on his face.

"Ummm...crap, I think I did," I say, worry evident in my voice.