Cut to: some time later; things have more or less settled down under our new alien overlords. I’m walking through town in the evening with B., guided by some streetwise guy—an ex-cab driver or something—who tells us what’s what.
“I hate those goddamn elephants they have now.” He points up at the sky. There are flocks of miniature elephants flapping around with their giant ears—basically Dumbo, a little stockier and tougher-looking, but still pretty freaking cute. But our guide warns us that they’re pretty rough characters involved in all kinds of underground business. He brings us into a run-down apartment building to take care of some business, and there are little surly elephants, mostly drunk, lounging in the hall and pushing past us on the stairs.
Back outside, I’m nervously kidding around: “Well at least there aren’t any, like, vampire ponies.”
He stares at me like Are you serious? “Not in your neighborhood, but watch out around here—the goddamn vampire ponies are all over this park.” We’re crossing a little ill-kept park at night. Sure enough, these little foot-long ponies are scurrying around everywhere, and they can leap up to eye level, moving way too fast for comfort. They’re mostly distracted by chasing and eating some other small animals, but one of them bites my hand just before we get away.
I have a lot to learn.