> The Perfect Pet
> Be Your Own Best Friend
> The website is very professional with well coordinated, if overly bright, colors.
> You click on the About Us section.
> The Perfect Pet uses the latest in bioengineering technology to construct the pet of your dreams.
> Select any creature you desire, real or imaginary.
> Customize their appearance to your heart's content.
> Give them the most compatible personality in existence, your own.
> Everyone deserves a best friend, and now everyone can have one.
> They might be overselling it, but you are still interested.
> You look away from your laptop screen, to the beat up walls, to the once-white carpet, to the sagging couch you now occupy.
> Some companionship would go a long way to making this apartment more of a home.
> You don't mind it. Rent is cheap.
> The chill gives you an excuse to wear your favorite maroon hoodie.
> They were high school colors, not that you were big on spirit. It was just cozy.
> All the creaks and groans of the floor and the squeak of the door hinges is the sound of money saved.
> Still, the cobwebs in the corner and the low water pressure don't do much for your mood.
> When the location opened up a few miles away, you decided to check it out.
> It was only a few months ago that you first saw the ads.
> The company was less than a year old and already raking in cash.
> It doesn't hurt that they are the first of a new industry.
> Prices are high.
> Loneliness is a big problem with lots of paying customers.
> You'll have to dip into your savings for this.
> Returning to the computer, you continue reading.
> Build your new companion with our easy three step process.
> 1. Use our website to build your companion's appearance from a massive library of creatures.
> 2. Come into one of our convenient clinics for a complete personality analysis by qualified professionals.
> 3. Take home your new lifelong best friend.
> It sounds too good to be true.
> You click on the library.
> You see every creature you could think of, and a few you couldn't.
> There is all the typical pet animals like dogs, cats, fish, and hamsters.
> There were more exotic selections like parrots, monkeys, and snakes.
> The only limitation seems to be size.
> You guess there isn't much demand for something that can't fit in a house.
> Next up is the fiction category.
> Cool.
> You can get a real dragon, miniturized of course.
> Wait.
> Is that?
> It is.
> It's a pony, a pony from your favorite cartoon.
> You suppress a joyous squeal by biting your knuckle and sit frozen for a few seconds in shock.
> The show had been canceled a few years back, too soon in your opinion.
> The fandom still produced content, and you still considered yourself part of it.
> You set the laptop beside you on the couch, run to your room, and pull your old sketchbook out from under your bed.
> Blowing the dust of the cover, you flip through the pages.
> No.
> No.
> Yeesh. Why did you ever draw that?
> No.
> Here he is, your OC.
> You think about using your waifu instead, but reject the idea.
> Meeting your waifu without their show personality would be too weird.
> Taking the notebook back with you, you spend the rest of the evening on the website placing your order.
> There are lots of options, and you spend at least an hour getting it right.
> Color, body style, height, weight, and mane style all need to be perfect.
> Finally, you reach the submission page with a big grin despite your cramping hand.
> It is done.
> You have an appointment tomorrow at The Perfect Pet.
> With that settled, you heat up some canned ravioli for supper.
> Fine dining has a name, and that name is Chef Boyardee.
> Smell that tomato sauce fresh from the can.
> Just as you are finishing up, you hear the doorbell.
> Checking your watch, its 8:00, so he's right on time.
> You open the door and see Pete, your upstairs neighbor and current best friend.
> Pete is short, fat, and loud with blond hair and a million funny stories, none of which were true.
> He can be annoying at times, but his sense of humor often got you throught the worst times at work.
> "Let's go, man. I thought I was the slowpoke."
> "You know I'm always ready for bowling on a Friday night."
> Bowling isn't your favorite thing to do, but it's a chance to go out and interact with people.
> It always gets better after a few beers that the snack guy sneaks in for those that know how to ask.
> You both get in Pete's car and he drives to the alley.
> "So, Eric, did I ever tell you about the time..."
> He did, many times.
> Tuning Pete out, you stare out the window, thinking about what will happen tomorrow.
> Who could have believed you would one day own a pony of your very own.
> It's every fan's dream, and it will become your reality tomorrow.
> Coming back home, more proud of your buzz than your score, you stumble back in your door.
> "...and that's how I got this scar from wrestling the world's biggest crocodile. Same time next week?" Pete calls after you.
> "Wouldn't miss it." you yell back before shutting the door.
> Despite your faulty coordination, you manage to brush your teeth and undress yourself.
> Only once using the wall for support, you make it to your bed and sink into the mattress.
> As you pull up the blankets, you stare at the ceiling, not sure if sleep will come.
> Life is ok now, but it's about to get a hell of a lot better.
> You sleep in the next day like you always do on weekends.
> Glance over at the clock and sigh as you nestle under the blankets for a long deserved rest.
> The sun is shining through the window and hits your eyes.
> Whatever. Roll over and ignore it.
> There's no place to go, no reason to leave bed at all.
> Except that's wrong.
> Shit.
> Your eyes snap open.
> What time is it?
> You pick up your phone off the bedside table.
> 12:30
> You have you appointment at The Perfect Pet in half an hour.
> The ancient springs under your mattress complain as you scramble to get up.
> Find some reasonably clean clothes.
> Some staining is socially acceptable. You work for a living.
> Brush your teeth without toothpaste.
> You can feel the judgmental eyes of the dentist next year.
> Twice a day, Doc, honest.
> You look in the cabinet for something quick to eat.
> Nothing.
> You didn't go shopping this week.
> Who wants to interact with those people?
> Shopping isn't important right now.
> There's a pony waiting for you.
> Hunger can wait.
> Shut the cabinet.
> It rebounds and hangs open slightly.
> It's not important.
> You pull on some threadbare socks and well worn sneakers.
> Keys, keys, where are the keys?
> After a few minutes of searching, you find them in yesterday's pants.
> You walk out the door, making sure to lock it behind you.
> There isn't a lot worth stealing in your crummy apartment, but it's the principle of the thing.
> At least it is a nice day out.
> It is early autumn and the leaves are just beginning to turn.
> The sun is out and is mildly warm with a few puffy clouds in the sky.
> If you weren't in a hurry, you would stop and enjoy it.
> No time.
> You jog to the nearest bus stop.
> There's the 12:45 bus, with the same dull paint as always.
> You begin running and make it as the driver was about to close the door.
> The bus isn't populated except for one old guy that might be homeless.
> His clothes still look better than yours.
> Once seated, you can't help but check the time.
> 12:48
> 12:51
> 12:53
> 12:56
> Here it is. This is your stop.
> The store was located in the classiest shopping center in town.
> Even from a distance, you can see the name of the establishment beckoning.
> The old guy is still sleeping.
> Come to think of it, was he breathing?
> Pacing past multiple store fronts, you reach the front door, grab the metal handle, and pull it open.
> 1:02
> Close enough.
> You enter a place that looks like a fancy waiting room.
> It's clean, with the smell of new paint and fabric.
> To your left is a counter with a secretary behind it diligently pecking at a keyboard.
> To your right is a bunch of stylish and modern chairs.
> The far side of the room has a big wooden door.
> That must be where the magic happens.
> There's a sign in sheet on the counter.
> You try to sign you name and appointment time.
> Stupid pen.
> After scribbling in the margin a bit, you write Eric on the line and go to take a seat.
> You weren't surprised that nobody else was here.
> Lots of people were still creeped out by the bioengineering thing.
> After barely sitting down, the secretary grabs the sheet and glances at your name, then at you.
> She gets out of her chair and nods in your direction.
> "Follow me."
> You follow her behind the heavy wooden door.
> She gestures to room 5.
> "Your Perfect Pet specialist will be with you momentarily."
> The walls were covered with posters explaining the benefits of owning a pet.
> In one corner of the room, you see a plushy recliner.
> It would seem inviting if there wasn't a large black alien helmet haning on the wall beside it.
> That must be the state of the art personality extraction you read about.
> It doesn't sound so cool now that you are faced with the prospect of wearing the thing.
> Across from the chair is a TV.
> It's clear they want their customers to be comfortable.
> "You must be Eric."
> You whip around to see an older woman in a white coat standing a foot away.
> "My name is Dr. Jameson."
> She extends her hand.
> You study her for a second.
> Her hair is dark brown with threads of gray.
> Her green eyes glow with warmth and and alert clarity complemented by a small smile.
> She must be the person you are here to see.
> You take her hand firmly and give a welcoming shake.
> "Eric."
> "I must say I was happy to get your order. Imaginary animals are such a fun challenge."
> "I've been working on your pet since this morning and the body turned out beautifully."
> "The only thing left is the mind, and that's where you come in."
> She explains the personality extraction process.
> Over in the lab, there is the pony you ordered hooked up to a machine that mirrors the one in this room.
> The machine literally copies your mental patterns into the pony.
> The process can take up to an hour.
> After you are seated confortably in the chair with the probe strapped to your head, Dr. Jameson flips the switch.
> The machine quietly hums to life.
> "Everything seems to be progressing perfectly. I will be going, but there is a button on the side of your chair if you need anything."
> "Many people find the time passes more quickly with a drink and something to read or watch."
> Screw that.
> You were still tired.
> "That won't be necessary. Just leave the TV off please."
> Dr. Jameson does so and leaves you behind in the room.
> The chair is just as confortable as it looked.
> You lean back, and within five minutes are fast asleep.
> When you regain awareness, you feel wrong. You aren't uncomfortable, but something changed while you were asleep.
> Orientation is completely different. You are no longer leaning back in that recliner. You aren't in a chair at all.
> It feels odd, like laying on your belly with your arms and legs tucked close. There is a disorienting feeling that this position is completely new.
> Despite being on your belly, your head is facing forward, resting on the same surface. However, your neck feels completely straight.
> You try to unfold yourself from the strange position only to find resisting straps at your back keeping you this way.
> With a rising sense of unease, you open your eyes.
> Ahhhh! Too bright! Too bright!
> You squeeze them shut again for a few seconds, wrinkling your face in the process.
> Let's try this again, slowly now.
> Squinting ahead, your vision is blurry and indistinct, like your eyes haven't been open in a long time.
> The center of your vision is obscured by some blue object, but it fades away as you focus further out.
> This is definitely not the room where you went to sleep. The walls are completely bare, and painted a calming blue color.
> You try to pick up your head to look around.
> One thing that hasn't changed is the weight firmly parked on top of your head. It feels heavier than before.
> After struggling for a few seconds to keep your head up, exhaustion forces you to set it back down.
> The helmet is also less comfortable than you remember, with two distinct points of irritation radiating from the top of your head.
> Another way this is different from the chair, it is a hard and cold surface, not warm and plush. It feels like a table of some kind.
> In spite of the color, calm is the worst way to describe what you are feeling right now.
> Trying to find something familiar to get your bearings, you attempt to flex the fingers on your right hand.
> Nothing. You can't feel them at all. They might as well not exist. Try the left hand.
> You concentrate on your left hand for a few seconds as if you could move anything at all through willpower alone.
> This time, you sense some movement like your whole hand wiggling, but there is no sensation from individual fingers.
> It's going to make your job bagging groceries insanely tough if you can't use your hands. You'll be fired.
> Why are you thinking about this now? There's clearly something major going on. You have bigger problems then turning NEET.
> Being unable to feel your fingers, clearly the button Dr. Jameson told you about is not an option.
> Okay, okay, you'll figure this out. Just take a deep breath.
> You inhale through your nose sharply, and are floored by the strongest mix of smells you've ever experienced.
> The dominating scents are antiseptic and soap, but there is something more subtle there as well.
> Taking some more measured sniffs, you pick out a wood you can't identify, some perfume, and several other scents you don't recognize.
> This is too weird. Someone has to be around to tell you what is going on.
> You open your mouth to shout "Hello", but your voice is weak and your tounge feels thick and clumsy in your mouth.
> "Hewwo, is amyome 'ere".
> That wasn't your voice. It was unmistakably male, but at least an octave higher.
> "Oh, you're awake. I was hoping you would be ready soon".
> That's Dr. Jameson's voice. You hear the rolling of a chair accross tile and steps toward you from somewhere you can't see.
> The smell of perfume gets stronger.
> "Let's make sure everything is ok. This is my first time doing a pony, let alone a fictional anatomy".
> What the hell is she talking about? There were no ponies around when you went to sleep.
> Eyes fully open and more or less adjusted to the light, you see a white lab coat come into view. Is that her?
> You try again to get up, once again held back by what must be some kind of straps. A thousand questions bubble up in your mind. Who is this lady and why in the world were you physically restrained?
> That wasn't part of any agreement you looked at. At least, you think so. No one reads the fine print. You can sue. Pete told you so and his dad is a lawyer.
> You don't have enough money to afford a lawyer at the moment, or ever, but you hope they wouldn't know that since you just gave them a few thousand dollars worth of business.
> You feel the weight lifted off your head.
> "Easy does it. We just need to do the standard post-PT exam and you can go on to your new home little buddy."
> Now you are really confused.
> Without the helmet weighing your head down, it is much easier to move it. You look up and see the same woman you remembered from before.
> "Whad are you doin'"?
> "I'm Dr. Jameson, but you can call me Mom. All the other pets do. I need to do a few quick tests to see that everything about the bioengineering process went right".
> "It's common for pets to not have fine motor control when they first wake up, so I have to leave you strapped in as a safety precaution".
> "Now don't blink. This is going to be bright", she says as she shines a light in your eye.
> It isn't pleasant, but you figure there is not much you can do at the moment besides obey.
> "Normal as far as I can tell, though there isn't any natural precedent for eyes that big".
> You hear a snapping sound right next to your ear. On reflex, there is a strange flickering sensation. What was that?
> "Hearing is good. I'm going to listen to your heart now. It might feel cold".
> This is followed by a minute of a cold spot moving all over you chest and back, pausing at various points.
> It feels like it is brushing against something. Is that hair?
> "Heart and lungs both sound good. I think you're ready to try out that new body".
> The straps come off with a click, and you finally have the chance to stretch out your arms and legs.
> Briefly adopting a spread-eagle position, the stiffness from being pinned down by the straps goes away.
> The remaining question is why your hands aren't working. With surprising difficulty, you move your arms in front of your face.
> "Whad duh fug"?
> These aren't your hands. They aren't even hands. There are no fingers. Your arm just ends in a stump, a blue stump, a furry, blue stump.
> Wait, that's a hoof. What nightmare is this?
> Your breathing becomes irregular as you try to get up. You place your new hooves flat on the ground and push.
> It doesn't work. Of course not, you need four limbs to stand up. You try to support yourself with your right knee.
> Funny, you can't feel the ground with it, but you can feel the ground with your toe, former toe most likely. You bet whatever happened to your hands happened to your feet too.
> After getting one foot and then the other under your hindquarters, you realize you are "standing" on your hooves. It's the weirdest thing you've ever felt.
> You feel dizzy and begin swaying from side to side before arms wrap around your chest to steady you.
> "Whoa, there. You don't want to injure yourself so soon. It's common to feel some weakness. Let me carry you".
> Too dizzy to protest, Dr. Jameson lifts you off the metal table and carries you out the door.
> Eyes closed to try and stop the world from spinning, you listen to the open and shut of a door. The powerful scent of perfume overwhelms you.
> After crossing what must have been the longest hallway designed by man, you reach another door.
> Going inside, she lays you down on a soft shag carpet. Somewhat recovered, you take a peek at your surroundings.
> Aside from the energetic pink walls, there seems to be hoops, tunnels, ropes, and other equipment that belongs to an obstacle course.
> "This is the acclimation room. Take as much time as you need to adjust to your body. I'm sure you're hungry, too. I'll go get something for you".
> Not feeling so dizzy anymore, you make another attempt at getting up.
> Instead of standing up outright, you keep your back legs tucked close to your body. The result is something like how a dog sits.
> It feels weird to be in this inhuman contortion, but you feel reasonably steady.
> The door opens again. Dr. Jameson appears with a pair of dog bowls.
> She sets them down beside the door and stands to leave. You are about to voice an objection, but she cuts you off.
> "I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but it is always best to give new pets some time alone to calm down to grips with the situation. Eric and I will be observing from the window behind you for any problems. Once I am convinced no abnormalities are present, I will be back to discuss your situation with you".
> The door shuts and you hear a muffled click.