There's something about having a shower after a particularly long day that just makes me feel amazing. That way my coat and mane feel clean and soft reassures me that I've been rinsed of all of my present stresses. Not smelling like the only thing on my mind is getting screwed senseless helps too. I'm just a clean pony unwinding before a party.

“Lyra, did you want to get cleaned up before the party too?” I nicker as I trot cheerfully out of the bathroom. “You kinda smell like me, if you catch my drift.”

“Somepony's in a good mood.” she giggles, lying on the floor in front of a small table in the study. On the table in front of her is a laptop, and the web browser is open to a very familiar page, bearing a screen-cap of a very specific scene. The page is Equestria Daily, and my—Lyra's—face is blown up on the page. “Maybe. Do you wanna explain this first.”

“What? My video actually made it?” I rush over to the desk, practically standing over her. “This I've gotta see!”

As I peruse the article, Lyra struggles out from beneath me and sits down next to me. While the article itself is indecisive as to the reality of it, as though the author wasn't quite convinced, the tone of it was relatively positive, concluding that 'Even if the video is a hoax, it's an expertly crafted one.' That isn't particularly of import to me. Just seeing some of the comments on the article is enough for me. Some are speculative, most are dismissive or argumentative, but surprisingly a good portion of the comments express some admiration of the video.

“Nothing like watching two people arguing over whether or not your body is nothing but an animatronic puppet, and your magic nothing but a bit of movie magic.” I snicker, looking to Lyra. “What do you think, my animatronic friend?”

“Why would you put my face out there for all to see?” she asks, rather flustered. “You've revealed our existence to your world at large!”

I smile at that. Shaking my head, I say, “Lyra, Lyra, Lyra. Most of the people who commented don't even believe the video is real.” I pat her on the shoulder with my hoof. “Sure, it might go viral among the My Little Pony communities—heck, if I'm particularly lucky, it might even make the news somewhere—but with no proof beyond the video, the hype'll eventually die down and be discounted as a hoax.”

Pursing her lips and puffing her cheeks out slightly, she looks back to the laptop. “Fine,” she moans. “You didn't get a signed release from me though!”

With that, I can't help but laugh. “Lyra,” I say, leaning awkwardly close to her face. “Your release form was the body swap spell.” I stick my tongue out at her, inadvertently licking her cheek.

“Yuck, Soren!” She pushes me back while wiping my cheek with the back of her hand. I fall to the floor, laughing. “What'd you do that for?”

“What did he do what for?” a voice asks from the doorway. Lyra and I both turn to see a tired-looking Bon-Bon standing in the doorway, staring at us both. I simply continue rolling on the floor tittering like an idiot.

“He licked me!” Lyra exclaims, looking mortified. “He just leaned in close to my face, stuck out his tongue, and licked me! With my own tongue!”

I stare up at the upside-down Bon-Bon and smile. “I didn't do it on purpose. Just sorta happened.” It's disorienting, but fun, to look at someone while you're lying on your back. “Besides, she was making this really cute face.”

“You know she's mine, don't you?” Bon-Bon says with a playful smirk. “Yeah, she does make some pretty cute faces.” She giggles and gives Lyra a knowing smile. Stepping back out the door, “I'm glad to see you're getting along. Just don't forget to cleaned up before everypony shows up. I know Pinkie's already downstairs getting everything set up.”

That's odd, I don't recall hearing Pinkie come in. Was that during my shower? Did she let herself in? Then again, Pinkie did say something about Bon-Bon agreeing to host the party. She probably gave Pinkie a key.

“You heard her, Lyra. Get to the shower.”

She gives me a sour look, but rises to her feet and quickly scurries out of the room. With a chuckle, I look back to Bon-Bon. It's pretty obvious that she's the dominant pony in the relationship. “I hope she hasn't been too much trouble today.” she says, smiling softly. “She's well-meaning enough, but sometimes she gets into trouble anyway, but that's my Lyra for you.”

I roll back onto my hooves and join Bon-Bon in front of the doorway. “You should be proud of her, Bon-Bon,” I reply happily, feeling the first hints of a tear forming in my eye. “She's really taken what you said about responsibility to heart. If she hadn't been here for me today, I think I'd be a real mess right now. She's helped me come to terms with whats happening to me, so instead of dwelling on the future I've decided to enjoy myself.” I nod towards the bathroom door. “Even if I did all the hoofwork, it's all because of her that a tragedy was averted today. She saved a filly's life.”

Through my own misty eyes, I can tell the cream mare is tearing up as well. “Who would have thought that getting to meet, snatch the body of, and take care of a human is what would finally push my love to finally take things seriously.” She rubs one of her hooves gently on my cheek, and then leans in to place a gentle peck on the same spot. “Thank you for telling me. You're right, I am proud.”

Blushing at the heartfelt affection in the kiss on the cheek—was that directed toward me or Lyra?—I look away nervously. “Listen... I'm kind of bushed.” A drawn-out yawn escapes my lips. “Where am I going to be sleeping during my stay? I was hoping to take a little nap before the party... If you don't mind, that is.”

“Oh, it's no trouble at all, dear. Right this way.”

“Soren, wake up!” Someone is speaking rather loudly into my ear, and shaking me. Normally, being woken from a dream—and for once, it really is just a dream and not a nightmare or memory—would piss me off immensely. Lately, however, my dreams seem against me too—stupid sexy Lyra. “C'mon, you're going to miss your own party!”

Groggily, I open my eyes and look up at Lyra. It looks like my human body has undergone more transformations since I went to sleep. Specifically, her skin is now a uniform silvery-pink, and my hair... is going gray. What the hell? No time to dwell on that. “How long have I...” I begin before breaking into a yawn. This causes a twinge of pain in my head. Apparently long enough for me to need to take my medication.

“Just a few hours.” She smiles gently, offering me a bowl of oats and berries. “You should probably eat up and take your pills.”

I can't say no to that idea. Being at parties with a headache does not make for a sociable person in the best of occasions. Who would want to risk offending Pinkie by being a dick? Certainly not somepony who has seen her flip the fuck out like she has. “Thanks, Lyra,” I say in between mouthfuls. I never actually take the bowl into my own control. I'm content to just let her hold it. “I take it you brought some water too?”

She reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a capsule and a glass of water. I'm grateful for the water after eating the oats, and of course the painkiller is a blessing too. Before I know what is happening, though, I find myself nuzzling her hand. Drawing back, embarrassed, I turn my attention to the mirror.

Lyra too flinches in surprise. “Soren...” She doesn't have to say any more. A stray memory tells me that Lyra becomes rather affectionate the longer she's in season, but isn't Twilight's spell supposed to be keeping things like this from happening? I'm assuming, of course, that this is personality and not some sort of Equestria pony thing. For all I know, they're closer to Earth's cats in that sense. “You've really got it bad, don't you?”

I give her a sidelong glance, but continue examining my reflection. My mane is a complete mess from sleep, plastered against the side of my face. “I guess.” I mutter distractedly. “Wanna help me with my mane? I can't go down there looking like this, but I don't wanna use magic until the painkiller kicks in.” I puff pointedly through my nose. “I’m not sure I could even handle a brush after everything I’ve done today.”

“Sure thing,” she replies with a grin. “Maybe now I can see my mane done up in a bun this time.”

Lyra takes only a moment to dash from the room and return with a brush. During that time, I hear her speaking to somepony—Pinkie, I think—and telling them that we’ll be down shortly. I can’t be completely certain, but it sounds like everypony is already here. Why is it so quiet then? It’s not like it’s a surprise party, so there’s no reason for them to be so quiet. Are they doing it on principal?

Maybe it’s—ooooh, that’s nice! Leave it to me to not notice Lyra’s return until she starts brushing my mane. Her touch is nothing like my mother’s, however. Even though Lyra is a digital novice and moderately clumsy with her hands, she knows all the pressure points on my scalp. She knows just what it takes to make a brushing feel heavenly.

Easily making short work of my mane, she ties it back with a brilliant red ribbon. I can’t say she made a bad choice, seeing as the ribbon compliments my coat pretty nicely. It eve goes with my eyes. “Gee, Lyra, I didn’t peg you for dressing nicely.” I giggle, jumping down from the bed. I trot toward the door.

Following me toward the stairs she jibes back, “Hey, I’m a musician. I need to look my best when I get a gig!” We both laugh. “If I didn’t know what looked good on me, I’d never get any events.”

We reach the bottom of the stairs, and turn to make our way into the dark first-floor living space. No light is filtering through the window; even if the curtains weren’t drawn, there’s no sunlight this late in the evening. The only sounds that can be heard are poorly restrained giggles, and heavy breathing near the archway.

The moment the two of us cross the threshold, the lights flash on and Pinkie bursts from above in a shower of confetti and streamers. “It’s party time!” she shrieks with excitement.

As I blink away the dazzle—and glitter—I begin to make out the forms of everypony in the living room. Any furniture that was previously there has vanished aside from a single round table covered in food and drink. There were various trays of small cupcakes and cookies along the edges, with a tray of nine larger cupcakes in the very center of the table. Beside that tray of cupcakes, I see a tray of shot-glasses full of an interesting-looking rainbow fluid. Evenly spaced around the table sit large plush pillows, and a corresponding stein placed on the table. Finally, just off to one side of the table I spot a large keg marked Sweet Apple Hard. Cider, fick ja!

My reverent eye-grazing on the snack table is interrupted by a well-deserved slap to the back of my head. I deserved that. Leave it to the formerly fat guy to scope out the snack table before even saying hello. “Soren, be polite and say hello!” Lyra chides. “You can fill my belly later.”

Following her advice, I look dumbly around at everypony. Pinkie, Bon-Bon and Twilight all giggle as I lock eyes with them, knowing instantly what had happened. Next, I look to Rarity and give her a polite nod. She looks to my mane, and noting the ribbon gives her own approving nod. I don’t actually make eye-contact with Fluttershy—I’m still rather anxious from the soap incident—but I give her a polite hello nonetheless.

Finally, I’m confronted with the blond cowpony herself. “Good evening, Applejack,” I say, offering my hoof foolishly. “The name’s Soren. Pleasure to meet you.”

Before I have a chance to ponder my mistake, Applejack takes my hoof into her own and begins shaking it vigorously. “Boy howdy, am Ah happy ta meet’cha.” She releases my hoof, resulting in almost the same manner as Twilight’s first day—differing only in that I end up smacking myself in the jaw. “Eheh, oops. Anyway, Ah’m mighty grateful ya were there for the lil’ rascals today. As much as Ah might not have liked ya puttin’ the fear of Celestia in them fer me, Ah reckon its a lot better than havin’ two scarred fillies an’ an empty heart. Ya might not think, but yer a hero to at least one of them.”

The word hero elicits a disgruntled “Hey!” from the only pony I’ve yet to give any attention. I turn to Rainbow Dash. “So what if you saved one filly?” Her tone is mocking, but not insulting—Rainbow Dash swagger then? “I get to say who is a hero and who isn—”

Quite quickly, her mouth is plugged with one of Applejack’s hooves. Okay, seriously? I don’t care if she’s washed her hooves, that can’t be hygienic. “Don’t ya mind her none, sugarcube.” Applejack laughs. “She’s just mighty grateful that it wasn’t her lil’ cousin.”

I can’t help but give Rainbow a double-take. Scootaloo being her cousin makes a whole lot of sense, and the fandom often enough projects that theory, but really? I am—or at least I was—more attuned to the whole Scootaloo orphan. “Eh, Rainbow Dash is right; I’m not a hero.” I give the chromatic mare a nod. “Right place and right time. That’s all. Thank Lyra if you need to.”

“Shucks, an’ he’s a modest one, too.” AJ laughs wholeheartedly, smacking the pegasus on her withers. “Why, if he’s as loyal as he is modest, we might just have a back-up Rainbow Dash.”

The following parade of games and festivities blurs in my mind. The music on Pinkie’s record player, vaguely familiar but nonetheless suitable to the games, is enough to keep the events interesting. Who’d have thought I would somehow manage to miss the poster in Pin the Tail on the Pony and nearly pin a tail to Lyra? Almost everypony had burst out in hysterics except for Fluttershy and Lyra. It’s the first party that I think I’ve ever really had fun at.

The snacks and drinks dwindle as the evening dies away. One thing remains constant throughout the party. The steins and cider-keg, large cupcakes, and rainbow shots all remain off-limits. Pinkie remains adamant that they’re for a special game. She won’t say what, but what else can it be other than a drinking game if it involves shots, hard cider, and mugs?

Munching away on a cookie, Pinkie sidles up to me as I sip a cup of hot cocoa. “So how is your first Pinkie Pie party?” she squeals. “Is it everything you imagined?”

I smile at her glib happiness. How can life be so simple? Is simplicity really happiness? “Yeah, and more, Pinkie,” I reply, affectionately bumping flanks with her as I go in for another cookie. “But you’ve still got one last party game tucked in your mane, I think.”

A thoughtful look crosses Pinkie Pie’s visage, before the pink pony begins giggling uncontrollably. “That’s just silly! Why would I keep it in my mane?”

“No sleeves, Pinkie.”

She lets out an amused little giggle-snort. “Sleeves, ha... That’s a good one.” She grins, and then sucks in a great big breath. “Gather ‘round the table, everypony! It’s time for the final game of the night!”

Twilight, Pinkie, and the gang all take up positions around the table on the cushions. Seating herself by the cider keg, Applejack quickly makes a show of skillfully filling all of the mugs without ever getting up or spilling a single drop—with some help from Rainbow Dash. Lyra and Bon-Bon quickly follow suit and sit on two of the remaining cushions, leaving me a seat between Rainbow Dash and Lyra.

“Alright girls, while most of us know the rules of our little drinking game,” Pinkie announces, to a raucous applause from her friend. “I’ll go over the rules for our newcomers!

“We sing along to the general tune,” she says, pausing to whistle a startlingly familiar tune that I recognize instantly as the Drunken Sailor—an old sea shanty. “Aside from the chorus, we go around in a circle and make our own lyrics as long as it meets the meter with a nine, ten or eleven syllable line. The one making the lyrics will lead in their round, and the others will follow. The lyrics have to do something with drinking, and on their round, they have to drink; others participate only if encouraged to. Everypony drinks as much as they want on the chorus.”

“Any questions? No?” she asks, but it’s clear that it’s a rhetorical question. “Then let’s get this show on the road!”

Applejack starts off with an introductory verse, “What do we do with a drinkin’ pony?”

The rest of us echo, “What do we do with a drinkin’ pony?” Then all as a group, we continue, “What do we do with a drinkin’ pony, early in the eve’nin’?”

“Yay yay, she drinks some cider!” I take a swig of the apple cider in my mug in time with the word. Gosh, if I thought regular apple cider was awesome, Sweet Apple Acres hard apple cider is fucking amazing. It has that tangy apple flavor, with just the slightest alcoholic bite. Move over Baileys, there’s a new favorite beverage in town!

I realize in my cider ruminations, I’ve completely missed a line, and quickly knock back another mouthful of cider before the next line. “Yay yay, she drinks some cider, early in the eve’nin’!”

Applejack rises from her pillow and sets her cider stein down on the table. From seemingly nowhere, she produces a hose and pops it into the top. To my intense disbelief, she mounts the keg, and proceeds to stand one hoof, and bearing the end of the hose in the other. “Stand me on the keg, drink it through a hose now!”

“Stand her on the keg, drink it through a hose now!” We chant as she takes the hose into her mouth and begins drinking. “Stand her on the keg, drink it through the hose now, early in the eve’nin’!”

As we break again into the chorus, and the free drinking commences, AJ returns to her pillow. Already I’m a third of the way through my mug of cider, but I don’t care. Things this good are meant to be enjoyed. Why else would I feel a warmth in my cheek and a happy buzz in the back of my mind by the end of the chorus?

Pinkie’s up next, and she seems to have something in mind. Then again, the invitation is clear that she had a very special surprise that has yet to rear its head. She takes the tray of cupcakes from the center of the table and passes one around, and then proceeds to give each guest one of the shots of rainbow-liquor. “Take a rainbow shot, chase it down with cupcakes!” she sings gleefully, popping the shot into her mouth.”

“Take a rainbow shot, chase it down with cupcakes!” The group replies, each of us taking care of our own shots. Fucking wow. I can tell that there’s some liquid rainbow from the weather factory in here, with the way its spiciness burns the palate, but nothing could prepare me for the alcoholic bite of it all. Coughing as it goes down, I can’t help but wonder whether it’s vodka or moonshine.

“Take a rainbow shot, chase it down with cupcakes...” we sing together, unwrapping our cupcakes, eager to alleviate the assault on our throats. I munch mine down hurriedly, barely tasting the cupcake or the frosting. “... early in the eve’nin’!”

What happens next is momentarily blurry to me. One moment there are half a dozen cries of surprise, and then Twilight is chewing out Pinkie Pie. “Pinkie! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Twilight shouts aloud, her voice sounding oddly deep in my ears. “What were you thinking?”

“I just wanted to help poor Soren-warren feel more at home!” she replies rather morosely. Her voice too sounds deep in my ears. Have I been drugged? “I figured if there were more ponies experiencing being the opposite sex, he might be more at ease!”

“Wait, what?” I say dumbly, looking around in shock. Sure enough five out of the seven mares—myself and Lyra notwithstanding—seem to have undergone a rapid sexual metamorphosis. Pinkie, Bon-Bon, Twilight, Fluttershy and Applejack have all grown in size and taken on that distinct stallion musculature. I nearly mistake Applejack for her brother, for she’s grown even larger than the rest of her friends. All of them except Pinkie Pie are glancing at each other and me in extreme discomfort. Well, there’s something else in Bon-Bon’s eyes too, but I’m not sure what. “How is that possible?”

“Well that’s easy!” Pinkie chirps happily, not missing a beat. “I had Zecora whip up a gender flip potion! Don’t worry though! It’ll wear off in a few hours!”

“Pinkie...” AJ mumbles, slamming a hoof against her brow. “You didn’t notice anything funny about our friend here at all?”

“Oh my, oh my, oh my!” Fluttershy keeps repeating, giving me a mortified look.

“No, why?” the party pony asks. “Oooh! Does he have a tattoo?”

Daintily waving her hoof for attention, Rarity speaks up. “Are you meaning to say that you haven’t once noticed...”

“Why is everypony being so cryptic?” Pinkie mumbles.

Lyra claps her hands, drawing all eyes to her. “Pinkie, Soren just went into estrus!”

A look of comprehension dawns on Pinkie’s face. “Oh...” A look of horror replaces her gleeful smile. “Oh no!”

Everypony cover their faces with their collective forehooves—and hands—at this. How could she not have noticed? I mean I was sure everypony and their cat could tell! “Pinkie, I could tell before I even entered the house that somepony was in heat!” It’s Rainbow Dash this time. “How...”

An shameful look overtakes Pinkie Pie. “I... um.... I have a stuffy nose...” she squeaks in an almost Fluttershy manner. “Please don’t tell the Cakes! I'm not supposed to bake when I'm stuffed up.”

Well, this is no fun, everypony ganging up on Pinkie. So what if they all suddenly have penises? They’re all mature ponies, and I trust them. What they do with their penises is their business. “Hey, relax!” I interject, leaning momentarily against Lyra. “Less stink-eye, more drink... hi!”

Despite everypony giving me the world’s weirdest look, we eventually do get back to the game. For the moment being, we decide to skip a chorus and move onto Fluttershy’s verse. Unsurprisingly, the caveat in her verse involves hugging. It’s not the easiest thing to do when there’s an odd number of ponies, but we manage, and then it’s back to cider—that sweet delicious cider!

Twilight’s verse toasts to Princess Celestia—why not Luna?—resulting in more than a few instances of cider sloshing out of mugs onto the round table. As soon as we drink the chorus away, it’s Rarity’s turn. True to her elegant nature, her verse rattles on about nursing drinks and avoiding hangovers. Can’t say I blame her. With how foggy my mind is feeling, I can only imagine how badly I’ll need my painkillers in the morning. Painkillers—there was something about them, but what?

Unfortunately for my throat and my thoughts, Rainbow Dash follows up the next chorus by bragging about her rainbow shots. Again, I knock back the powerful stuff. Instantly I begin musing about how the stuff could probably be used to incapacitate rhinos. Never mind, rhinos, though, what’s it doing to Lyra? I turn my head to check on her and am immediately riveted. Her eyes are pretty glossy looking but that’s not all. The dress Rarity gave to her is plastered to her skin with sweat. Through it, I can just begin to make out the her...

“It’s your turn!” Rainbow whispers, nudging me in the ribs.

I... um... “Chug another mug and kissh your neighbor!” I slur without thinking. To hell with thinking! It makes not so fun things happen. I listen, and everypony begins cautiously parroting my lyric. In the meantime I shakily force myself to my hooves and climb up on Lyra—kinda. Does having your forehooves on her shoulders count as climbing? No! That’s thinking talk!

Fighting off all thought, I live for the heat of the moment. I lean in and place my lips against Lyra’s. To my surprise, she doesn’t try to stop my or resist. If anything, I think I feel her tongue. Somepony—Rainbow, I think—lets out a wolf whistle in response. Encouraged, I move one of my hooves from Lyra’s shoulders down to her breast to start playfully kneading.

Bad decision. I fall across her lap, landing on my back like a goofy filly. All I can do is stare up at her with a big silly grin on my face. Lyra looks down at my vulnerable form and begins laughing. Laughing! That’s not a bad idea! Maybe I’ll join her.

“I think somepony’s had a bit too much to drink,” the fingered one comments, stroking my ears absentmindedly. “I’d hate to say it Pinkie, but I think it’s time to pack up. I’ma get him up to bed.”

Author's Notes:

A/N: Next chapter is clop-tional. If you don’t like clop, feel free to skip it.

Re-edited 11 July 2017