Chapter Six; the dirty streets of Manehatten....
after the longest time away, I came home...
He could feel the rain beating down... the endless steam of the heaven's tears rhythmically drumming on the cobblestones his hooves trotted over. His weather-beaten long coat and fedora protected him from the worst of the ongoing torrent, but nothing could protect his mind from the torrent of memories being in this place brought forth.
Looking around at the broken down buildings and peeling paint of the street signs, he could remember....oh could her remember a time when this place was a little less worn and grey. Looking into the darkened window of a long-closed toy shop, he could remember a young colt receiving a toy train from his father for Hearth Warming day. As he passed a boarded-up school, he could remember a young colt getting his first kiss from a filly on the playground. The panicking colt running in circles, and screaming that she had given him cooties.
He had known that the Pegasus had a downpour scheduled for this evening, but her had preferred coming here in the rain. It meant he would be left alone with his thoughts. Besides, any ponies refused to come down to this old neiiighborhood, because it was rumored to be haunted. For him, this was true... it was haunted by the memories of a lost past. And the images of ponies one had known and loved were more frightening ghosts than anything else his mind could come up with.
He approached a small building in the western part of the old ghetto- the Horsemasterist temple he and his father had attended every week when he had been a colt. The old place looked a little more alive and inviting than the rest of this run-down horsehole, but not by much. As he approached, he recognized an old unicorn stallion locking up the gates and getting ready to go home. He trotted up to the old grey pony, and greeted him.
"Hello, Padre." The young unicorn greeted him, taking his fedora off. "It's been awhile."
The old unicorn with the star cutie mark spun around, and through the glow of his horn, stared into the face of this newcomer.
"Fancy Pants?" The old unicorn's gravelly voice asked. "Is that you, lad?"
"Yep, Padre Coltner, it's me. " The younger stallion replies. "The prodigal pony has come home."
"Good to see you again, m'boy." The old horse grinned. "Come on lad, let's get inside where we can talk."
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"Ah, the old neiggghborhood hasn't changed much lad...only for the worse." The old stallion poured a cup of hot Coca for his guest. "A new generation has grown up in the misery that you knew so well during your younger years."
"And the great rich and elite of the city do nothing to help these poor ponies out." Fancy sipped his coca, keeping his anger in check. "They leave the ghettoes to the Goat mob and the street gangs to evict ponies, beat them, and leave them to starve to death on the street."
"The ponies down here are disillusioned, lad." The old stallion shook his mane. "My congregation has only grown, as more and more of the impoverished ponies turn away from the solar princess who seems to care little for their troubles, and embrace the teachings of the Horsemaster."
"Perhaps that's why she got me out of here, Padre." Fancy Pants ate the melted marshmallows out of the top of his mug. "To come back and help these downtrodden Manehattenites."
"Aye, lad. I been hearin' your a constable in the local precinct now." Padre Coltner commented. "Gonna try and clean this ruffians out o' the old neiiggggborhood, are ye now?'
"Not try, Padre." A wry smile crossed the stallion's face. "I have a plan to get both the goats and the street gangs all in one go."
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The old warehouses near the Manhatten docks, were the scene of many a shady deal. It was here, that constable Pants's informant had told him a deal over a shipment of loco weed was supposed to go down. Fancy and six other constables were waiting behind a stack of crates, waiting for their opportunity.
"You sure this is the right place, fancy?" Nightstick, a green unicorn stallion whispered. "We received a tip that the deal was going to happen on Stallion island, in the shadow of the Statue of Harmony."
"I trust my source, Nightstick." Fancy whispered back. "This is where the mob and the thunder trotters gang are going to have their exchange."
They both fell silent, as the door to the warehouse was pulled open. There was the sound of large, powerful hooves stepped onto the warehouse floor. As the police looked on, two large goats wearing suit jackets and ties walked in, surrounded by an entourage of Pony enforcers.
"It's Don Linguini, the boss of the entire borough of Bucklin!" Nightstick whinnied in awe. "But who's the goat beside him?"
"That's Grogar, his up-and-coming Hench goat." Fancy whispered back. "He made a name for himself across the river in New Jockey. Wanted for the death of 13 pony politicians."
Fancy Pants bristled in anger. Ponies were, for the most part, incapable of hating each other- otherwise a bunch of Windigo ice spirits would descend from the sky, and freeze all of Equestria solid. So it fell to the goats to run Equestria's organized crime, hiring the few evil ponies that did exist to act as their lackeys and enforcers. And ones of those evil ponies, the gang leader named scarfhoof, came through the door right then.
Fancy Pants bristled in anger. It was him, the slime who ordered a Tailor shop in the ghetto burned down all those years ago. Fancy felt the rage build up inside him, but kept it in check as the two sides began to talk.
"Yo ponies, why the long faces?" Don Linguini asked, as Grogar and his lackeys burst out laughing, even though most of them were ponies, as well.
"Very funny, Linguini." Scarhoof hissed. The yellow earth pony street gang leader stared up at the goats. "Did youse bring the stuff?"
Grogar stamped his hoof, and a crate was lowered by crane from the ceiling. "Fourteen tons of Loco Weed, grown across the border to the south in Blarkland, and Smuggled into Equestria."
"It's incredible we get this stuff in, right under the nose of the alicorn tramp and her bureaucracy." Linguini gave an evil laugh. "By the time Celestia's finest uncover our little operation, the whole kingdom will be a bunch of burned-out addicts!”
“Hooves to the sky, all of you!” The six unicorn stallion constables rose from behind the crates. “You’re all under arrest!”
“It’s the colts!” Several of the gang members screamed, galloping for the door. They were met by several Pegasus constables outside , who flashed spotlights down on them. Seeing they were outnumbered, the thugs threw their hooves up and surrendered.
“You’ll never take us alive, flat hooves!” Grogar ran into the crates, causing them to tumble down. Linguini charged two of the fallen constables, knocking them across the room. Nightstick and three of the others put a bubble force field around the two goats, trapping them.
“You’ll not be goin anywhere, boyos!” Nightstick yelled. “Y’all be awnserin to the local magistrate fer yer misdeeds!”
Scarhoof had run out the side door unnoticed, but was met in the alley by an angry Officer Pants.
“Look, I’ll pay you anything you want, but just lemme go, and forget you ever saw me!” The crook wailed.
“Can you bring my father back to life, Scarhoof?” Fancy Pants snorted in anger. “Can you undo burning down Parsifal Pants’s tailor shop?”
“Fancy!” The earth pony thug yelled in surprise. “Never thought I’d see youse back here. Pity ya won’t be around fer long! Say hello to my little friends!”
Everything happened so quickly, Fancy would recall later. Scarhoof brought his brass-horseshoe clad hooves up towards his head, inteding to kill him. And in self defense, Fancy Pants let out a powerful magical blast, fueled by his anger towards the pony he was facing. The energy vaporized the evil stallion, leaving his brass horseshoes clattering on the ground.
Officer Fancy Pants collapsed to the ground, staring at the scorched spot where his father’s killer had been.
“It’s finally over.” He whispered to himself.
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It was only a few years later, that a now chief of the Manehatten constables, stood outside his old neighborhood on a sunny day. Shops and stores were open again, and young colts and fillies played on the playground at the community park. Fresh coats of paint were being applied to the local buildings, and the memories of this place being a ghetto were slowly fading away.
“You’ve done a fine job these past few years, lad, cleaning up Manehatten.” Padre Coltner offered, trotting up to Fancy. “And ye avenged yer father. But ah have to wonder…. I know that Linguini died in Prision a few months back, but whatever happened to Grogar? I heard he had some kind of diplomatic immunity, due to connections with the ambassador from Blarkland.”
“Deported to the Purple mountains in the North.” Fancy Pants replied. “The Equestrian High courts decided to let the Griffons kingdoms deal with him.”
“And you’re off now too, I hear.” The old Padre adjusted his spectacles. “Resigned from your position this morning, and are preparing for your next great adventure?”
Fancy Pants nodded. “There’s a war going on, and they need good stallions on the front. I’m going to see what I can do for my country.”
The old stallion nodded. "Yer a good lad, Fancy, and you'll go far in this world. But don't be forgettin who ya are, or where ya came from."
"I won't Padre, I promise." Fancy hugged his family's old friend, before trotting away, towards an unknown future.