MY LITTLE PONY: EYES AND HOURGLASSES

Chapter III:  "Making Friends"

Written by Diane N. Tran, with original song by Rachel Rambach


As the festivities continued uninterrupted below, the winged pony ascended the stairwell and went through each room of the building, floor by floor — kitchen, bedroom, library, stockroom, and whooooaaaaaa!  She reached the top floor and her wall-eyes gazed around the sight of massive room that amassed a labyrinthine jungle of the rusted cogs and jagged gears of the Old Clock Tower.  The patchwork of holes left in the broken roof allowed glowing beams of sunlight to stream into the room, as a flock of white pigeons fluttered out.  The walls hung with hundreds of clocks, clocks of all kinds, all different shapes and sizes, ticking and tocking in all different ways.  Positioned below them were rows of long worktables.  Half-working and half-finished mechanics and machines were scattered upon the tabletops among the various tools and knick-knacks of springs, spokes, screws, coggles, and wheels.

She stood in curious awe of the room until:

"Negative, negative, negative!  No entry, no entry!" rolled in the mechanized contraption speedily towards her, causing her to bolt upward in flight with a yelp and dropping the letter yet again, as she hid in-between the clockworks upon the ceiling.  "I am K-9 and I am warning you!  I do have defensive capabilities.  Retreat!  Retreat!"

"I wasn't doing anything wrong!" the grey pegasus shivered in fear of the strange automation.  "Go away!  Go awaaay!"

"Negative:  It is you who should retreat!"

"Heeeelllpp!  Somepony, help!  I'm being attacked by a crazy mechanical whatchamadoodle!"

"What in all of Equestria is going on here?"  A brown stallion, the master of the house, entered into the room to investigate the ruckus.  When he looked up to see a mare he's never seen before cornered up in the ceiling by his invention, he rushed in front of the machine and berated it, "Heel, K-9!"

The metallurgic dog spun its radar-dish ears and relaxed its antennae-like tail, complying monotonically:  "Heeled, Master."

"Sorry about that," he called to her in a guilty tone, glancing over his shoulder with flattened ears.  "I forgot that his security protocols and alert systems were still activated."

"Does that mean it's safe to come down?" hollered the pegasus from her hiding place.

Glancing down at K-9 who gave a low growl, which only he could hear, the creator questioned his creation as one would an actual pet:  "Are you going to behave yourself, K-9?"

"Affirmative," it responded matter-of-factly.

"Are you going to be a good dog?"

"Affirmative."

The mare fluttered down, keeping the stallion between herself and his mechanical contraption when she landed, and peeked cautiously over his shoulder.  "So, is it alive?"

"Technically, no," the inventor betrayed a half-frown, then patted the robotic creature's back with his hoof reassuringly, which sounded as though he kicked over an empty trashcan.  "But K-9 certainly has a mind of his own.  Don't you, K-9?"

"Affirmative."

The mail-mare raised a bewildered eyebrow at the inventor.  "Wait, you...built your own friend?"

He blinked at her, not entirely certain how to respond.  The question seemed almost pitying.  "Well, I—I suppose I did."

"You don't have any friends at all?"

"I have...friends."

"Entreat, Master," interrupted K-9 with a whirl and a beep.  "The Master has no such companions other than myself."

"That's awful!" she exclaimed, terrified at the revelation.  "Everypony should have friends!  Why don't you come downstairs and meet your guests?"

Lowering his head, he turned with his tail between his legs and began to hesitantly slink off.  "I didn't invite them.  You can let yourself out, can you not?"

The mail-mare leaped in front of him, practically demanding his undivided attention.  Suddenly, she began to twinkle her little hooves and swish her blond mane to-and-fro, as she danced and spun in the air to the music heard from the other room.  The inventor blinked at her in confusion.

"Oh, no," his ears flatted at the realization of what was going to come, "please, not another song..."

Heeding little attention, she opened her mouth and sang cheerfully:

STEP ONE: WEAR A SMILE
STEP TWO: SAY HELLO
STEP THREE: INTRODUCE YOURSELF
TO SOMEONE YOU WANNA GET TO KNOW
STEP FOUR: HAVE A CONVERSATION
ASK A QUESTION OR TWO
MAKING FRIENDS CAN BE SO SIMPLE
ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS JUST BE YOU

YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS TO MAKE YOU LAUGH
HELP YOU FEEL BETTER WHEN YOU ARE SAD
YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS TO MAKE YOU SMILE
HELP YOU FEEL CALM WHEN YOU ARE MAD
YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS, SO DON'T BE SHY
GO OUT AND GIVE IT A TRY
ANYONE WOULD BE LUCKY, OOO-OOO,
TO HAVE A FRIEND LIKE YOOOU!

"C'mon," she pranced happily around him, "it will be fun, I promise."

His knees knocked nervously and his hooves scrapped against the flooring, but her head pushed against his rear to urge him forward.  "I really don't think this is a good idea," he whined, descending the individual steps with each forceful push.  "What if they don't like me?"

"They'll like you.  I already like you and we just met."

"Really?  Does that mean we're friends now?"

"I guess it does."

"Oh, well," it came as a bit of a shock to him, "that was relatively easy."

"See?  I've been to Canterlot and Cloudsdale, but Ponyville is the friendliest place I've ever been.  The ponies here are so nice.  You'll make plenty of friends if you just tried."

"But I wasn't even trying—."

"Even better!"

They made it down the last step.  He gulped at the sight of so many ponies, chattering, eating, drinking, dancing, and laughing amongst themselves, which made him feel all the more alone.  He wasn't much of a socializer.  As a foal, he was always preoccupied with his studies and, as a stallion, he was always preoccupied with his work.  His work was intricate and required concentration and a steady hoof, no distractions; therefore socialization just came off as rather pointless.  He had grown used to being alone and he came to Ponyville to free himself from the hustle and bustle of Lonmane, but obviously the ponies of here had different plans for him — or, at least, one particular pony did.

"I don't think I can do this..."

"Don't worry so much.  I'll be right here with you."

STEP ONE: WEAR A SMIILLE

She grinned the most absurd, most generous, and most infectious of grins at him.  Tilting his head inquisitively, the corners of his mouth twitched and could not help but curve upwardly in response.

STEP TWO: SAY HELLOOO

"Halloa."

"Halloa?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

"But what does that mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"Halloa?"

"I just said that."

"Nevermind.  Let's start over."

STEP THREE: INTRODUCE YOURSELF
TO SOMEONE YOU WANNA GET TO KNOOOW

"I am Doctor Whooves," he greeted with a courtly but timid nod.

"I'm Derpy Hooves," she grabbed his hoof and shook it vigourously, causing him to nearly fall forward, "please to meet ya!"

"Um, likewise."

STEP FOUR: HAVE A CONVERSATION
ASK A QUESTION OR TWOOO

He thought for a moment.  "How do you do?  Enjoying the party?"

MAKING FRIENDS CAN BE SO SIMPLE
ALL YOU HAVE TO DOOO IS JUST BE YOOOU!

"Oh, you're good!" complimented the pegasus merrily.  "Now, try it with the others!"

"Try what with whom now—?"

But before he could object, the pegasus flew up and addressed the entire crowd of party-goers:  "Hey, everypony, this is Mister Doctor Whooves, the newest pony in Ponyville!"

YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS TO MAKE YOU LAUGH
HELP YOU FEEL BETTER WHEN YOU ARE SAD
YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS TO MAKE YOU SMILE
HELP YOU FEEL CALM WHEN YOU ARE MAD
YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS, SO DON'T BE SHY
GO OUT AND GIVE IT A TRY

The crowd gathered and surrounded him at all sides.  They greeted him politely, as each introduced themselves by shaking his hoof, or asking questions about himself.  There were so many of them that he could not possibly remember all their names.  They were so innately curious about him.

ANYONE WOULD BE LUCKY, OOO-OOO,
TO HAVE A FRIEND LIKE YOOOOOOOU!

"They brought me gifts?" Whooves' blue eyes studied the colourfully wrapped boxes topped with giant bows stacked upon the table.  "I've never received gifts from strangers before."

"That's what's great about Ponyville," smiled Derpy beside him.  "Everypony knows everypony in Ponyville, so no pony is a stranger here."

"I...like that."

"Me, too."

OOOOOO-OOO
YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS
OOOOOO-OOO
YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS
OOOOOO-OOO
YOU GOTTA HAVE—

Hours passed as though they were minutes.  Day moved into night into morning again.  The party had ended, they didn't know exactly when, and the room told the tale of the carnage that ensued just hours before.  The floor was littered with a flurry of wilted confetti and withered streamers.  The fairy-lights were half-strung up, the ribbons half-torn, the balloons half-deflated, the food half-eaten, the drinks half-filled, and the candles half-snuffed out.  The victrola that once filled the air with music and melody was now silent and was replaced with the soft lullaby of nightly crickets and morning songbirds.

FRIENDS
TO MAKE YOU LAUGH
HELP YOU FEEL BETTER
WHEN YOU ARE SAD
YOU GOTTA HAVE
FRIENDS
TO MAKE YOU SMILE
HELP YOU FEEL CALM
WHEN YOU ARE MAD
YOU GOTTA HAVE
FRIENDS
SO DON'T BE SHY
GO OUT AND GIVE IT A TRY
ANYONE WOULD BE LUCKY
OOO-OOO-OOO-OOOOOO

Only two party-goers remained behind in the mess.  The brown stallion slumbered upon the sofa, his head against perched against the arm, dreaming of equations and formulae.  The grey pegasus, on the other hoof, laid face down in a pillow of cake and frosting, dreaming of dancing muffins.

TO HAVE A FRIENNDDD
JUST LIKE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU—!