Title: A Wizard's Tail Author: Shutdown64 Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/2yDpvZjz First Edit: Tuesday 16th of September 2014 05:13:57 PM CDT Last Edit: Last edit on: Sunday 28th of December 2014 02:44:29 PM CDT "Are you like... for real?"   "Yes."   For such a stunning revelation, Fred didn't seem too perturbed as he continued to loudly mash his keyboard. Mike, on the other hand, couldn't tell if this was a bad joke or not.   "What do you mean you're a Wizard?"   With a drawn-out sigh, Fred stopped his typing-crusade and pushed himself away from his computer desk, a sullen look on his fat face.   "Exactly what it sounds like, my simple friend: A Wizard. A spell-user. A magician, if you will."   "Okay. See, I wouldn't normally believe in this kind of thing," Mike voiced up his honest opinion, "but on the other hand..."   His eyes focused on a spot a few inches above Fred's head, an act which further diminished Fred's mood.   "Yes yes, I know what you're thinking. Ha ha." Fred spat sarcastically, "This is totally serious Michael and I'd appreciate it if you'd treat this situation with the full gravity it deserves. All Wizards get adorned with a Mighty Merlin cap; it's nothing to laugh about."   On the contrary, the limp hat resting on Fred's greasy, balding scalp was everything to laugh about. It was almost as if a 2-year-old child had attempted to replicate Mickey Mouse's hat from Fantasia, but instead of finely-stitching on the astronomical shapes one would expect, it was more like they'd drank white paint and then proceeded to vomit all over it. The royal blue fabric was covered in grotesquely shaped cream flecks, some appearing to be peeling off before Mike's very eyes. The build-quality of this 'hat' was so absolutely abysmal that the only reason Mike didn't laugh out loud at it was because he knew Fred was a very 'serious' person and didn't do 'jokes', especially if it meant demoralizing his, er, 'righteous and intellectual' image.   -   "So yes," Fred continued matter-of-factly, "As I turned 30, the head of the Wizard council came to me personally. Shortly after, I was granted the privilege of magic from the Wizard Guardians, concluded with my hat ceremony. The whole ordeal lasted about an hour, and then lo and behold: here I am."   "...That's it? No cape to go with the hat?" Mike couldn't help feeling totally underwhelmed by this lackluster story.   "Actually, there is a cape, but it's only for supreme Wizard Warriors who never lo-" Fred started to ramble, but Mike cut across him.   "But if this -is- true, and you ARE an actual Wizard, why are you here? Shouldn't you be out in the world spawning infinite money or I dunno know, a gym pass?"   "You can't be serious." Fred scoffed, an eyebrow raising from behind his thick, rounded spectacles. "You know me, Michael, I'm a fair person. I like a good, clean challenge. I don't condone cheating. I need to feel intellectually accomplished and satisfied when I engage in play."   It was certainly true - though that's probably to be expected when your favorite game is Dwarf Fortress 2. Fred was one of those "Fox Only, No items, Final Destination"-type gamers.   "Magic..." Fred continued, "While it's a nice gimmick, it's essentially easy mode -- no, God mode. It caters way too much to casual mortals, or in Rowling's words, 'muggles'."   "Well, your attitude certainly hasn't changed. Still living life by the rules, eh? Reminds me of that time I pulled my USB stick out of your PC before you'd properly unmounted it."   Fred gave shuddered as he recalled that horrific incident.   "I DO NOT believe in the 'easy way' when it comes to life. Becoming a Wizard changed none of that."   "So you'll continue to live off benefits and eat Cheetos like you've done for the past 30 years, then?"   There was a slight pause in Fred's reply.   -   "Yes. But at least I can do this now."   And with a wave of his hand, 3 bags of Cheetos marched out from a cardboard box located in a corner of the filthy room. Mike looked on in amazement as, one by one, the packets of Cheetos commit what appeared to be seppuku, spilling their contents into an already orange-crusted bowl.   "...Wait, so you're actually for real about this Wizard shit?!" Mike's heart began to hammer, his stomach lurching with excitement as the last empty bag of Cheetos crushed itself into nothing.   Fred, yet again, drew a large sigh and turned his head towards his PC screens.   "Of course I was telling the truth Michael, don't you ever listen?"   "B-but dude! You do can magic! You can do anything you want! You can go out and live life to the MAX! You could have any girl you want, or, or, or teleport wherever you want! Visit Japan, you like them animes right? The sky is literally your limit, unless, hell, do you think you could go to space-"   "Calm down you excitable cretin," Fred groaned, not bothering to turn away from his PC monitor. "Yes, I could do any of those things, for I am a Wizard. But didn't you listen? I won't. Using magic would mean there's absolutely no challenge left in to life for me. If I can already accomplish everything, I might as well be dead since there's no point in living."   With his mind too buzzed by infinite possibilities to care about Fred's grim statement, Mike stared intently at the back of his friend's head taking in the receding crown and the unwashed ponytail. Ponytail...   "So uh, you been keeping up with S4 of MLP:FiM?" Mike asked in what he thought was a run-of-the-mill tone, his mouth getting increasingly drier.   -   "As a matter of fact, yes, I have. To be honest, I feel like the show's production is diminishing at an alarming rate; there's no consistent quality at all. Take the mane 6, for example: absolutely no consistency with the personalities anymore. No, instead their personifications are badly distorted and dramatically skewed, essentially becoming stereotypes of THEMSELVES, just to be bent to the writer's sinful willing..."   Tuning out Fred's rant wasn't a problem, the frantic beating of Mike's own heart too loud to ignore. An impossible thought had just occurred to him; the chance to live out one of his most guilty pleasures. What if... what if...?   "...I mean, seriously, thanks M.A. Larson!" Fred concluded dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air while still fixated on his PC monitor. "Don't you agree, Michael? Michael?"   "Fred..." Mike continued slowly, carefully cradling his words. "The reason I came round today was because you said you had something big to tell me. And indeed, it was. A bloody massive bomb-shell, too. And now that I know what I know, it's pretty exciting. I'm happy for you."   Fred's pig-like grunt summarized his thoughts on Mike's sweet-talking. Mike continued,   "Well, due to my sinful ways... I'll never get to be a Wizard. I mean, had I known it was actually TRUE..."   "Get to the point, Michael." Fred huffed dismissively, rolling a fat Cheeto between his thumb and forefinger.   Mike took a deep breath, knowing how ludicrous this was going to sound:   "Can... you turn me into a pony?"   -*   Mike watched, as if in slow motion, the Cheeto that was being preyed upon fall to the floor; Fred's face contorting as he suddenly erupted into a violent coughing fit.   "Inhaler, inhaler...!" he wheezed as frantically he started groping the surface of his computer desk with fat, dis-coordinated fingers. Mike spotted the small blue inhaler lying on the crumb-covered floor and swiftly launched into action.   "Here man, take it." Mike said firmly shoving the inhaler into Fred's grasping, orange-stained hand. Without so much as a thank you Fred immediately rammed the plastic tube into his mouth and pressed down hard on the metal capsule. With a sharp hiss and a calming breath, his face gradually uncrumpled signaling that the panic was over.   "W-w-what kind of question was that, Michael?!" Fred spluttered, his voice breathless. Mike looked away and bit his lip - he'd just briefly unleashed his true power level; something he'd told himself he'd never do in front of another person, let alone his nerdy 'Wizard of the Cheetos' friend.   "Heh, come on man, it was a joke." Mike laughed, his hand subconsciously rubbing his back of his neck. "We were just talking about Ponies, so y'know..."   The look on Fred's face slowly morphed into the spitting image of a condescending George Costanza, and Mike didn't like it at all.   "So you finally admit it, huh?" A thin, cruel curl twisted Fred's lip, "That you like My Little Pony much more than you reveal?"   "W-what do you mean?" Mike said defensively, but could feel his mask slipping. What if the new-found wizardy had also granted a mind-reading ability? Fred dropped his inhaler in to a desk drawer, triumphantly slammed it closed and shifted his gaze back to the 3 monitors in front of him.   "Oh, I have my reasons Michael. Let's just say that when you loan someone something as personal as a USB stick, you should really format it."   -   Mike could only see the back of Fred's unwashed head from where he stood, he could tell from his tone of voice that Fred was having one of his 'euphoric' moments.   "But... I've never lent you a USB stick. I mean, just look at this place!" Mike said incredulously doing a 360 to take in the endless shelves of computer components. His focus turned to a box of tangled wires laying abandoned on the floor, apparently host to some kind of Cheetos family as full packets nested peacefully together among the chaos.   "OK, fair point well made." Fred nodded sagely, "So I -may- have software that automatically downloads all data from inserted external devices, but that's besides the point," he said loftily while waving a dismissive hand, "I seem to have collected some... intriguing chat logs."   Shit. The impending realization of what Fred might have uncovered made Mike become intensely aware of his surroundings, like some invisible force had just slapped him back to reality. His stomach lurched, the blood draining from his face like a valve had been released. Panicked-induced nausea started to kick in.   "Y-you didn't... read...?" The situation had suddenly gone critical, almost 'mother finding your pornography stash'-tier critical. "Aww come on dude, that's stuff was totally private!"   "And yet you carry it around with you Michael, almost like some kind of trophy. Now why would one do that? Indeed, why would one..." Fred seemed to ravish his next few words "...be so intent on roleplaying a cutesy, little pony mare?"   It was over. He knew.     Mike's dark secret was no more. To be discovered in such a way made Mike feel sicker than he could have predicted; his knees trembling like flimsy rubber, the beating of his heart twice as hard as usual. Why oh why didn't life have an undo button? That's what Mike was desperate for now, anything to undo this discriminating discovery.   -   "I must say, I'm surprised at you." Fred continued in a matter-of-fact tone, apparently not realizing the crushing blow this was having on Mike's ego. "I always considered you as a 'society-worthy' being. Living life with the day-walkers, mingling with them, even breeding. Who knew that, in the end, all you wanted was to do was live in a cartoon universe aimed at little girls? Here, let me bring the chat log up..."   "N-no! Don't you dare!" Mike launched into action, moving forward and trying to swipe the slimy computer mouse away from Fred. It was too late though, the logs were already maximized on the central screen.   [00:35:39] *Lil_Plum_Berry (You) has set their status to 'Be right back' [00:42:14] *Lil_Plum_Berry (You) has set their status to 'Available' [00:42:32] Lil_Plum_Berry: I love you, big sis! Sorry for the wait! *Nuzzles Silky's neck while stretching her wing over her* [00:42:40] Lil_Plum_Berry: :3 CUDDLE ENHANCER GO! [00:43:15] xXSilkySocksXx: ^___^ I love you too, little sis! *Nuzzles her Plum-bum back, stretching out her forelegs and ensnaring little Plummy in a deep snuggle-cuddle.*   [00:43:32] Lil_Plum_Berry: Eep! *Giggles as Silky's sniffly-nose tickles her pink tummy* [00:43:50] Lil_Plum_Berry: *Begins to suck on Silky's ear playfully* [00:44:07] garry_the_pone: lol [00:44:19] xXSilkySocksXx: *Snuggles down with Plum-bum* That tickles! Hey hey, can I preen your wings again?! ^_______^ [00:44:42] Lil_Plum_Berry: After last time? I-I don't know, my wings are slightly sensitive... [00:45:01] xXSilkySocksXx: Oh don't worry, I already -know-. >:3 [00:45:05] garry_the_pone: brb   Mike's fist clenched; his teeth digging deeply into his bottom lip. He couldn't read anymore; all of the chat logs were intact, right there in front of him, and there was nothing he could do about it.   -   "Shall we continue?" Fred grinned as Mike gave up and stormed off. He wasn't as angry at Fred as he was at himself; this leak was his own damn fault! This was something he should have expected for carrying those chat logs around. It was amazing something as insignificant as a 20kb text file could ruin a life.   "So... you've seen..." Mike eventually managed to master his voice, but couldn't bring himself to say 'Pony snuggling sessions' out-loud.   "I did. To be truthful, it was quite an interesting read: I didn't know you could roleplay so convincingly. If I did, I'd have let you join our RPing MMO server." Fred answered, still engrossed on his monitors. "I don't care too much for the actual content, being above such petty things as cuddles and intimacy, but I really did enjoy the personification of your character. You were clearly in the same frame-of-mind as Plum Berry."   Fred now knew that forbidden name; the alter ego. The two worlds that should never ever cross finally had. Worried he might pass out from intense shame and embarrassment, Mike perched himself on the edge of a battered brown sofa burying his face in his hands.   There was a moment of silence; the only sounds coming from the scroll wheel of Fred's MX518 mouse.   Well, the dark secret was out: Mike frequently roleplayed as a cuddly pony called 'Plum Berry' in a pony-themed Internet Relay Chatroom. 2 years ago, the idea that Mike's standards could fall so low would have been completely preposterous. However, like many good people before him, Mike had been broken by cute little ponies. Their innocence, their unmatched charm, their aesthetically pleasing style... They'd made him do such questionable things.   "It's okay Michael, it's not even really that big a deal." Fred tried to sound comforting while maintaining his monotone, "I'll never mention it to anyone. I mean, I couldn't even even if I desired -- you do know you're the only person authorized to visit me, right?"   -   That was true, Mike was essentially Fred's only link to the outside world. It was an odd friendship he couldn't quite explain, considering how elitist Fred could get over the most mundane things. Given the chance, Fred would turn most activities into penis-measuring contents just to prove his 'deep intellect'. Though to be fair, it would have been naïve to deny Fred's 'deep intellect' when it came to computers and general technology - something which had proved useful on many occasions.   "I know man, it's... cool. I'd just rather you hadn't find out like that." Mike spoke up, defeat weighing him down like a lead backpack.   There was another pause.   "I... was serious, you know. With your new-found wizardry, could you... I mean..." He couldn't bring himself to say the word "pony" again.   Fred drew breath through his teeth, not unlike a plumber trying to sum up the cost of a hefty job.   "I don't know, Michael." He answered curtly, "I mean, I know I COULD do it, but that's not the issue here: I don't feel I SHOULD do it. It wouldn't be ethical."   "What do you mean it wouldn't be 'ethical'? I'm giving you my consent, aren't I?"   "Yes -- but that's not what I'm referring to. Think about it logically, you cretin." Fred's familiar condescending tone was rising, "Think: If you were to become a pony, could you even comprehend how much it'd hinder your life? THINK. It might seem like a cute and fun idea, but it'd mean no more going out in public for a start. That means no more food." He paused to re-adjust his glasses, "All your basic human advantages: gone. No more driving, typing on keyboards or using smartphones or... heck! Even successfully operating doors or toilets would be an achievement. Do you really think this is a suitable life choice?"   -   As much as it pained Mike to agree, he couldn't argue with this reasonable logic. He wasn't defeated yet, however.   "Yeah, yeah, alright. How about just for a week, then? Just for, I dunno, shits n' giggles?" Now that this glorious once-in-a-lifetime opportunity had arisen Mike just couldn't let it fly by.   Fred's rebuttal was instant. "And where would you live? How would you look after yourself? There's no pasture to graze on around here, and we live in the suburbs!"   "I dunno, make me a unicorn or something. That'd mean I'd have magic too."   Fred spun around so fast his chair groaned like some majestic, endangered animal.   "No -- impossible. Giving a mortal -any- form of magic abilities goes STRICTLY against the 'Wizards And Nerds Knightship Act'. I'd lose my powers, be trialed live in front of the Wizard Guardian Council and maybe even banished to the null-dimension for ETERNITY!" Fred concluded dramatically, his breathing elevated. "It's one of the two ways I can have my power's revoked, and while I don't need them, I like having them. And besides, Michael, you of all people should know that Plum Berry is actually a Pegasus."       "Y-yes, that's right, she, uh, is a Pegasus. What relevance does that have?"   "Oh, you know. Even I know what you really desire. I still say no, though. Letting you return home as a pony would be too dangerous, we can't risk you being seen. However, it's completely unfeasible for you to stay here because A: I don't have the money for pony food and B: My allergies. You know what animals do to me, Michael."   Mike recalled the 'Stray cat and the delectable Cheetos' incident all too well. He barely managed to suppress his laugh.   "Listen man, you're a damned wizard! None of the stuff you've just said matters cause you have magic on your side! You can just make stuff appear or disappear, like your allergies! ...You can at least summon salad, right?"   -   "Please don't belittle me Michael, I'm well aware of what I'm capable of." Fred scoffed, straightening his Wizard hat. "And what makes you think I'd just DO this favor for you, anyway? What's in it for me?"   This was a breakthrough as far as Mike was concerned - Fred was bartering, an act that usually lead to tonnes of illegally copied Blu-Ray box sets.   "Well, you'd have a cute pony roommate for a week. I know you've always wanted a pet cat, so it'd be kinda like that. Except sentient, of course. I promise you won't get lonely, we could try complete Netflix together, or I dunno, play some video games? Melee?"   "Who in their right mind would pay for Netflix when everything's already free? Money-grabbing corporations are taking advantage of you sheeple. And really Michael, play video games with hooves? That just further conveys your lack of vision on this whole crazed fantasy."   The deal was dwindling fast: Mike needed to add a sweetener post-haste if this was going to work.   "Okay, okay. Look, I know you've explained once that you've got a thing for... mind control" Mike felt filthy for just suggesting this, "So how about this: If you make me a pony, you can control me for 2 hours a day. No dodgy stuff though, no... intimate actions."   It was a half-arsed, final attempt to grab Fred's imagination. Surely mind control would be within a Wizard's array of skills.   "...Hmm. That IS an interesting offer, Michael. That's one thing I've never actually considered with my new-found powers."   "So you're saying yes?" Mike heart soared, his impossible dream becoming that little bit closer to a reality. Fred turned away, his chair whining like a injured dog.   "...It is pending approval. We would need to work out finer details; a full agreement or heck, even some form of contingency plan. This is a very dangerous thing to do Michael, and while I'm confident that it's well within my zone of ability, I just want to be sure we know what we're dealing with."   -   Over the next hour or so, they did just that: formulated a full agreement and contingency plan. It was decided that Fred would only consent to casting the transformation magic if:   1: Between the hours of 4pm and 6pm, Mike would become completely obedient to his commands via mind-controlling magic. 2. If Fred could revert the transformation at any point, due to boredom or other situations. 3: Mike behaved while in Fred's settlement, only using the designated areas assigned to him. 4: Fred's Cheetos were off-limit.   "So, tomorrow at 9am?" Mike asked for the 3rd time, just to make sure this really was happening. The characteristically large sigh he got in response confirmed.   "Tomorrow. Now go, before I change my mind."   Without so much as a second glance at his hat-wearing friend, Mike swiftly departed the scene with an extra spring in his step.   -   In a heartbeat, the next day dawned. Swelling with anticipation, Mike was already trekking up the familiar beaten path to a weathered bungalow. Hastily stifling a yawn with his left hand as he balanced two coffee cups in his right, Mike swiftly kicked the door 3 times. It was 9am, Fred was bound to be up already. How could anyone resist the excitement the day had in store? Hell, Mike couldn't even tell if he'd slept at all last night due to being so buzzed; much like a child the night before their birthday.   "Alright alright, I'm coming! Jeez!"   Loud, abnormally-heavy footsteps echoed through the bungalow's thin wood flooring as the beast within its walls stirred. Leaving his PC to answer the door and then sitting back down again had to be the only exercise Fred ever got. It was almost pitiful. Almost. Mike just couldn't feel judgmental today, what with being on the cusp his greatest fantasy.   "You're too early, Michael."   "Morning, nice to see you too. Here, I brought you coffee."   Mike offered the branded Styrofoam coffee cup, only to be met with a look of contempt.   "Morning? Pfft, causal. I've not even gone to bed yet. And really, coffee? With my irritable bowel? You should know that unsavory black liquid gives me the gravy and rice runs."   Wincing at this thoroughly disgusting information, Mike stacked the rejected coffee into his own, now empty, cup.   "Just being generous, man. No need to go all... personal on me. Also, why the hell haven't you slept?"   "If you must know, I was watching some MLG streams. I needn't have even bothered in the end, as I can guarantee even I have better APM than this new batch of players. Complete disgrace."   Casually taking a sip of disowned coffee, Mike crossed the threshold of Fred's front door. He was greeted with a solid, cheesy, sweaty smell. Business as usual.   -   "What's 'MLG' then?" Mike asked in an attempt to stir-up conversation, "Is it related to 'MLP'? Like 'My Little Girl'? Hahah..."   Fred just stared.   "Major League Gaming, Michael. Real gaming. Real, in-depth, calculating, tactic-driven, intellectual sportsmanship."   "So what, like Chess?"   "No. Ugh, you just don't get it."   From behind the door slammed closed; the last gust of fresh outdoor air instantly becoming sullied with stale stank. Mike curtly stood aside as the wobbling, greasy body mass that was Fred waddled passed, perching his gigantic rump on his PC chair. The compressed-gas cylinder sank dangerously low upon taking its owner's full-weight, and Mike took a step back in fear of it exploding. It took him a moment to recall why he was even there so early in the day, with Fred being a grouch.   "Okay man, so... are we doing this?" Mike's voice was tentative, like a child asking if they could open their presents early.   Fred groaned. "I GUESS so. It better not take long, I plan on sleeping at some point today. There's only so much Bawls one can consume to stay awake."   "...Consume what? Oh, you mean that Guarana energy drink?"   Fred heaved a sigh, "Just go. Sit there on the floor." He pointed to a spot on the worn, brown carpet. Mike obliged, sitting crossed-legged like a preschooler.   "So just to confirm... this IS safe, right? There's not going to be any weird side effects?"   "Heh, getting cold feet are we?" Fred smirked, turning his chair around to face Mike. "Didn't you say just yesterday how you wanted this forever? Surely any side effect would be a bonus?"   Rubbing his neck nervously, Mike carefully worded his response. "Yeah... I just don't want to... get hurt. Is all." Fred brushed his concerns away like old cobwebs.   "Trust me, you're in good hands my friend. I've intensely studied the pony form and I think you'll be pleased with the result. Now, if you would just shut up a moment, we can start this. Remember our deal though: 4pm-6pm."   -   Gritting his teeth and nodding, Mike decided he was ready. Ready to fulfill his impossible, shallow fantasy. To actually be the little mare who was charming, cute and so aesthetically pleasing. If only his IRC buddies could see what he was getting into now, they'd be green with jealousy. Though, on second thought, some where technically green anyway due to awful color-schemes. Garry_the_pone... Mike shook his head silently, looking up in time to see Fred prepping his Wizard hat.   "Okay Michael, I'm ready to start. Are you?   He gave the thumbs-up.   "OK. On the count of 3, then."   Mike's stomach lurched.   "One..."   Was this real? And not just some dumb trick?   "...Two..."   If it did work... surely this wouldn't be something to regret later?   "...Three!"   Before Mike could form another doubt, an incredibly heavy aura engulfed him. Perturbed, and tightly closing both eyes, a numbing sensation started to spread around both Mike's arms and legs. With no feeling in his rear to ground him to reality, he briefly felt like he was floating; as if suspended in the air, breaking free from the ground below. Cautiously opening an eye to the smallest slit possible, Mike managed to confirm that he was still located on the bungalows's floor. Fred stood before him, his face red in concentration, arms outstretched as the delivered an impressive flow of sparkling orange light. Was that... magic?   There wasn't time to dwell on it as something harsh and hard erupted from both of Mike's shoulder blades. While it didn't feel painful, the sensation of bulging flesh certainly wasn't a comfortable one. What the hell was that? As he tried to grope the lumps through his t-shirt, it became increasingly impossible to tell as, much to his surprise, his fingers had already worn themselves down into flat hooves.   This was really happening.   -   "Stay still Michael!" echoed a voice in the distance. Mike obliged, attempting to regain feeling in non-existent fingers. The surrounding environment appeared to be inflating, the mass of boxes and shelves increasing at a steady rate.   "I'm tryin-" Mike tried to reply, but at that moment his throat collapsed, all words ceasing to form. To add to list of rising issues, Mike's currently worn t-shirt and jeans were becoming increasingly heavier and baggier, to the point where all vision was obscured. Worried of drowning, Mike struggled as he felt the fabric closing in trying to rest upon his body just as the cartilage in the base of his ears expanded. At the same time, his spine felt like it was being tied in knots, strained from constant twisting and turning. All attempts to stand up had been fruitless; the perfect darkness created by the encompassing black t-shit removing all senses.   "If you don't stop squirming I'm going to mess it up!" came a disgruntled voice from above. Mike was barely listening as he frantically started rubbing his scalp. Silky hairs were silently sprouting and spreading over his suddenly long neck, stopping some point before his neatly-formed wings. In sync, a long silky tail blossomed into existence from the base of his spine. Discomfort started to peak as a plum coat covered his skin, acting like Velcro with the draped t-shirt. Teeth started shifting and Mike couldn't help drool as his tongue deflated. Everything was peaking, and just as it got too much...   "And we're finished. Congrats my pony-obsessed friend, for now you are one." Fred's satisfied tone sang loudly from above. It was plainly evident that he was pleased with his own handiwork. "Are you listening, Michael? I said you're WELCOME. Or perhaps I should now call you 'Plum Berry' to get you into character?"   There was a brief pause.   "...'Mike' is just fine, thanks." replied a voice that neither recognized. -   Confused, mind filled with haze and lingering motion-sickness, Mike couldn't help wonder where the new voice had came from.   "Hello...? You got someone there with you, Fred?" The voice spoke out again, at the exact same time as Mike.   "That's your own voice, you utter imbecile!" Fred retorted sounding as impatient as ever.   That was Mike's voice...? He had to let that sink in for a minute.   "No way... you made me sound like a girl." Mike whispered, totally baffled by himself. Had it really worked? He didn't get time to ponder as next moment he was being dragged into the air.   "Let's get you out of that distasteful t-shirt. Perhaps a lack of foresight on my part, though I don't think either of us would have wanted you to undress before attempting the transformation" Fred called as he tried to shake an entangled Mike out onto the floor.   Being hoist into the air and jerked around while encompassed in black wasn't exactly what Mike had in mind, panic starting to build in his chest.   "Stop struggling! You're making it worse." Fred hissed, his attempts at dislodge Mike still proving unsuccessful. Not listening, Mike managed to catch a glimpse of the room beyond through one of the t-shirts sleeves - an exit! By Wriggling and fidgeting Mike successfully managed to stick his head out of the hole, though learned seconds later that it was still too small for his new body to fit through.   Cold wafting air graced his face; a refreshing sensation after being enclosed in a hot claustrophobic environment. The moment didn't last long as the next issue arose - Mike was upside down.   "Help!" he squeaked upon realizing that the dust-covered 'roof' was actually the crumb-covered floor. His head was securely stuck in the right arm sleeve of the t-shirt, his legs still entangled in the fabric. Within seconds, the t-shirt vanished and Mike landed to the ground with a heavy thud.   "Ow, hey! You could have gave me some warning." Mike complained, having painfully landed on his back. He paused, coming to terms with what had just happened, and what was still happening. "Woah, was the distance from the floor to roof always so... wide? Fred?"   Mike tilted his head up and gasped at what he saw - his own silky, plumb-colored covered stomach. A satisfied grin grows across his now-petite face as he held his new hooves into the air.   "Damn..." was all he could muster, fascination hijacking fear as he examined his delicate new form. Mike was certainly 'little' now, probably 1/4th of the height he once was completely decked out in Plum Berry's colors. It was surreal, like watching your own limb being cut off.   "M-michael, do you mind? I can see everything when you lie like that!" a stammering voice interrupted. Mike recognized the source as Fred.   "What do you mean?" Mike asked innocently enough, before cottoning on to the fact his rear legs were separated. Instinctively, Mike's tail flicked up to cover-up the 'indecent area' while his face burned.   "Shit man, you didn't need to go that far. Did you really reassign my genitals?"   "Excuse me? I'm sorry to disappoint Michael, but My Little Ponies don't have genitals." Fred stated bluntly, "I just found it unbecoming for a mare to lie on her back like that."   "Wait, so I'm genital-less?" Mike rolls over, trying to view his own rear. "How the heck will I do my business?"   Fred rolled his eyes. "Honestly Michael, I thought you wanted this. To be the little pony, right? Yes, you are -technically- female and yes, you do -technically- have cosponsoring genitalia, but they will only present themselves when required. Aka, they will only present themselves when doing your animalistic business."   Confusion mingled with disappointment swirled in Mike's mind - so he was a female, which was one of the draws of doing this, but at the same time, he didn't have active access to his privates.   "This isn't what we agreed on, was it?"