Ficlet: "The Kid In Room 8-C" (also proof that Patch is still alive) · 10:20pm May 14th
The twins approach with an easy, casual confidence. Bold enough to entice curiosity, friendly enough to ease the most suspicious and paranoid of ponies.
"Pardon us, young filly," the brother with the mustache begins, "but we couldn't help but notice you out here and we couldn't help wondering--"
"--are you lost?" the clean-shaven brother finishes.
They're missing the straw hats and have traded their striped suits for striped silk pajamas, but the wardrobe change hardly matters. Sets of twins are rare, even in Las Pegasus, and even if they weren't, this set of twins have plastered their faces on every wall, stall, and roadside mall in the city. The Flim Flam Brothers abandoned the nomadic life to stake their claim in Las Pegasus some months (a year?) ago, and if they're staying at The Glitz, they must be doing pretty okay. Not phenomenal--they are still on the 12th floor, not a private penthouse suite--but pretty darn okay. "Modestly comfortable," the old money Wisterians might call it.
That means they see ponies come and go all the time. Judging from their reputations, their entries in The Journal, and Cozy's gut instinct, they know how to watch. They see ponies the way Cozy Glow sees ponies.
That also means they know that she's not lost. The hall is tucked away in an exclusive floor guarded by that Mr. Meathead Security Uglyface . It's next to impossible to get here by accident, especially for somepony under seventeen or whatever the drinking age is.
She opens with Level Three sweetness, prepped to go Level Four only if absolutely necessary. Anything above a Four is going to set off these guys' alarm bells for sure.
Cozy Glow lets her eyes soften and tilts her chin upwards so they can catch the light. "Lost? Oh, thank you for asking, but no, I'm not." There isn't a cover story, and frankly, she's too exhausted to build one on the spot. "I came all the way up here to talk to Mr. Svengallop but he..." She feels her face twist by itself. "...he's not exactly in the mood to talk right now."
That last statement needs a follow-up. It's still her move, but she can't remember what the next move is.
The weight of two hundred and seventy eight bits clinking in her dress pocket makes her dinner slosh around in her stomach. Cozy tries not to think of the last ten minutes. "Nothing personal, right kid?" The last ten minutes are all she can think about.
The brothers take the opening and pick up the slack. "Svengallop?" they both ask at once. They say the important stuff in unison, as if they share the same brain. In the loudspeaker promos, they're always finishing each other's sentences. Apparently, it's not a bit.
Flam glances towards Room 8-C while Flim tilts his head to size her up. From the twist in Flim's mouth and the squint in Flam's eye, they don't like the idea of Cozy hanging around Svengallop, and it's not for show, either. That means that either these guys are softer than Cozy assumed, or Svengallop is worse. Probably both.
"And just exactly what business could a sweet child like you have with Augustus Svengallop?" Flim still hasn't taken his eyes off the door.
"I came here to meet him, 'cause I heard he works in 'Pegasus now." If one could call moping around resorts trying to scrounge clients 'working'.
They take a second to assess the situation again. Flam clears his throat. "If you're looking for an agent, we can recommend several ponies better suited for--"
"It's not like that." Cozy puts a pin in the offer, though. "He's..."
There isn't a word for what Svengallop is to her now. He's not her father--that's clear now--but she can't think of an alternative thesaurus word to use instead. When a stallion offers his genetic material to create a foal, that stallion is sometimes called a "stud" or a "sire". But "stud" is the word the other senior fillies use to describe stallions who are desirable or handsome. "Sire" implies some sort of nobility, and nobility suits the dead bugs she left in Sweetbriar's pillowcase more than that pathetic thing rotting away in Room 8-C.
She opts for truth. "He had sex with my mom." It's not the polite thing to say, but Las Pegasus isn't a polite place. Cozy is cute enough to work the shock of it without being offensive. It still feels weird and gross in her mouth, though. The truth is like that.
Las Pegasus isn't used to brutal honesty and doesn't know how to handle it without gloves. Flim and Flam are no exception. "Uh."
Cozy advances before they can recover. "Since he did that, my mom had me. I found his name in the records, and learned he lived in this building." The sweet darling adorable smile comes back at a reasonable Level Two. "And now I'm here talking with you fine gentlecolts. Little old me and two of the most famous ponies in the whole city! Small world, huh?"
Sometimes it takes a few tries to figure out how to tell the story you want to tell. For me, those tries involve trying multiple angles to find out what works, why it works, and how. Or if not, why not. Right now I'm working on a Cozy Glow backstory fic. While I knew all of the events that lead from Baby-Playing-With-Locked-Doors to Junior-Supervillainy-At-A-College-Level, I didn't know if I wanted to try a normal story with Cozy's POV or attempt to write a story about Equestria itself trying to learn this story for themselves. I opted for the latter, taking the form of adult Berry Pinch (with help from Dinky "The Dink" Doo) writing an investigatory book. (The same book that later appears in The Martyr of Zephyr Mountain, though I don't think the final result will be pure epistolary and more a mix between the book's rough draft and regular prose.)
I tried writing this scene both from Cozy's POV and from Flim and Flam's POV via interview. Cozy's version flows and works perfectly fine, and I'm actually really happy with the end result. The only problem is A) I genuinely don't think I can keep up this style for 100k words, because if I approach it this way it WILL be well over 100k words and B) While the style works great for this scene, I don't see this POV working as well for a good chunk of earlier Wisteria adventures. Also because I'd have to dedicate a significant amount of fic to playing chess and I barely know my en passants from my les poissons.
Anyway, while this scene is going to appear again from the flipped perspective, I really do like this little scene and didn't want it to go to waste soooo here you are. :)
"Also because I'd have to dedicate a significant amount of fic to playing chess and I barely know my en passants from my les poissons."
I've read a lot of your fic and edited a bunch of it too, but I think I can honestly say this is the single funniest line you've ever hit me with.
Fascinating sample. I do like how Cozy planning her facial expressions feels like the Lock-Picking Lawyer feeling his way through a padlock. "Click out of Level One, binding on Level Two..."
Definitely looking forward to seeing where you go with this, especially given the promised involvement of the Dink.
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As French fishermen say, "One man's metier is another's poissons."
Always thought this was the Svengallup song:
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P.S. : I actually got offered a job in Las Vegas last year but I turned it down for one in Colorado. I have no regrets except for ALL THAT MONEY PRETTY PRETTY MONEY *SOB*
Thoughts of a dry brain in a dry season.
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Yeah that fits. (I really need to look into Electric Six beyond Gay Bar)
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That's an apt comparison, yes. The big picture is a chess game, but the small picture is figuring out how to finesse a lock so the game doesn't go sideways. Though in this scene specifically there isn't a game she's working on at all (literally or metaphorically) so it's just coaxing locks out of habit and to see if there's anything to use once the lock is open. (That and trying really really really hard to not think about the last twenty minutes)
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I'm starting to think all my good jokes happen when I'm absolutely exhausted because I literally just slapped down the first chess term and alliterative French word that came to mind :p
PatchworkPoltergeist is out here doing the lord’s work. Probably I’m too easy to please, but if this were published as a short story it’d have a favorite from me.
I know I’ve looked before to no avail, but do you have a patreon? Ko-fi? Anonymous PO box that only accepts pristine, unmarked Benjamins? I’ve never done a commission, I just think top-tier work should be appreciated. And whatever you’re cooking seems top-tier to me.
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I'm not willing to admit how long it took me to get that joke.
I AM willing to admit that it got a good laugh out of me.
Bien joué.
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I've considered it more than once, but unless I've kickstarted a multi-chapter project when chapters drop with some regularity, my output tends to be a little... well, rare. My stories take a while between conception and publication and I'd feel guilty accepting money when I rarely so rarely produce anything.
That said, when I get rolling with Student In Stone (or the much longer sequel to Zephyr Mountain) I may consider it.
Also, I should really do more blogs. There's an essay about the nature of Equestrian forgiveness that's been burning a hole in my pocket for like a year.