//------------------------------//
// Story 
// Story: Lawyers, Guns, and Money 
// by totallynotabrony 
//------------------------------//


Lawyers, Guns, and Money


Andy reached the front of the line and gave his passport to the uniformed pony at customs.  She checked it, stamped a page and slid it back across the desk.  “Welcome to Equestria, mister.”
He nodded and stepped away, pausing to look at the next traveler who had accompanied Andy through the dimensional doorway.  Andy’s companion, a seafoam green pegasus, was next in line for customs.  Propping his hooves on the desk, he showed his own passport.  The customs agent raised her eyebrows at a stallion with a US passport, but dutifully stamped it and let him go.  The two of them walked away from the desk and into the rest of the dimensional terminal building.
“Sail, do we have to go through the portals every time you want to drink?” asked Andy.
“There are a lot of places where the legal age is eighteen, rather than twenty-one,” replied his friend, “but if we’re going to go to a different country, why not Equestria?”
The dimensional doorways had been open for almost twenty years, and the novelty had started to wear off.  Plus, Sail was not really a fan of hanging out with other ponies just for ponies' sake.  Despite his appearance, he was fervently American.
Andy suspected the real reason they had come to Equestria.  “You’re just looking for some tail, right?”
“See, that’s why I keep you around,” said the pony, grinning.  “You’re a great wingman.”
Andy rolled his eyes.  He was often in this position as he was usually the more sober of the two, partially because of the advantage of species.  Humans seemed to have better tolerance for alcohol.  Not only that, but pegasi were lightweights.
The doorway from their home city had taken them to Ponyville.  Andy had heard that it used to be a smaller town, but the dimensional transport hub built there had created considerable growth.  He and Sail kept walking, exiting the portal building and entering the town.
The streets had been paved with modern materials, and there were a few cars around.  Quaint-looking buildings were slowly being renovated for a more contemporary appearance. The two of them headed to a bar down the street.
The large stallion outside the door watched as they approached.  He looked experienced, as if he’d seen more than a few visitors taking advantage of the lower drinking age.  “ID,” he ordered.
Sail handed him a card.  The bar pony read it.  “What’s this?”
“It’s a Virginia driver’s license,” Sail replied.
“We’re both from there,” added Andy, showing his own license.  The bouncer looked confused for a moment before shrugging and letting them inside.  It wasn’t always so easy, and Sail had often experienced problems with proving his nationality.
Andy had known Sail for a quite a while.  They’d met in elementary school.  Sail’s parents had moved to Earth shortly after the doorways opened to start a new business, and he was actually a natural-born citizen of the United States.  Even two decades after the portals went active, it was still unusual enough to confuse ponies and people alike.
The inside of the bar was a little more loud and club-like than most Equestrian taverns.  There was no formal dance floor, but it was early and more customers moving to the music would probably appear later.  Sail asked, “What do you want?”
“The usual,” replied Andy.  Sail nodded and moved away to the bar.  He usually bought, as he was the one with money to spare.  It was no secret that his family was stinking rich.  While it wasn’t Andy’s business, he thought that maybe Sail’s parents spoiled him, even into his senior year of high school.
A few minutes passed.  Andy was not the only human in the bar, but people were still a minority.  He spotted a group of young Americans at a table, probably also in town for younger-aged drinking.
“Any good prospects?” asked Sail as he returned with their drinks.  
Like a good wingman, Andy had been scanning the bar for single mares.  “Over there at the end.  Earth pony, dark orange coat, short red mane, and freckles.  She seems to be alone.  Careful though, it looks like she’s taking it slow.”
Sail nodded, pleased with the intelligence gathering.  “Thanks.”
Andy raised his hand, taking a sip of his drink before walking towards the other end of the bar.  As he drew closer, he spotted the mare’s cutie mark.  It looked like seeds of some sort, maybe she was a farmer.  Sail could probably find something to talk about.  Despite his pampered city life, he had grown up in the south, or as south as Virginia could be.
Andy stopped next to the bar, close enough that the mare couldn’t help but notice him.  He turned in place, pretending to look for someone.  Sail was nearby, feigning disinterest.  Andy checked his watch and grumbled under his breath. 
The mare glanced at him.  Andy made eye contact and initiated conversation.  “Are you here alone too?”
She nodded.  “Just waiting.”
Andy caught something in her accent.  It sounded…Bronxish?  Was she from Manehattan?  Linguistics had always interested him, but pony accents were harder to classify.  He would be going to college next year for languages.  Sail, instead, was looking at party schools to apply to.
Pulling himself back to the task at hand, Andy said, “I hope you haven’t been waiting for very long.”
“The train got here early,” she explained.  Her voice was friendly.  “A couple of my cousins should be here soon.”
Andy nodded.  “Have a good time.”
He walked back to Sail.  “As your good friend, I advise you not to go for it.  She’s waiting for family.”
Sail winced.  “Okay, let’s look elsewhere.”
He had already finished his drink and stopped by the bar to get another.  Andy approached a group of mares occupying a table and managed to find out that they were celebrating a birthday.  That made them less likely to let one of their number go.  
As Andy returned, he spotted Sail chatting with a mare near the bar.  The conversation had progressed into the and what do you do for a living? stage, so he waited quietly.
“My parents run a ship building company,” Sail was saying.  “Navy contracts, mostly.  We’re always getting government VIP’s stopping by.”
“Oh really?” asked the mare, sounding genuinely fascinated.  “Like who?  Have the Princesses ever visited?”
Sail was in the middle of a drink and sputtered.  Quickly trying to save face, he said, “Well, it’s not like they won't ever stop by in the future.”
“Oh?”  It was a tone of voice that indicated the mare’s previous interest had taken a hit.  Sail was pretty good with words to get himself out of a tight spot, but Andy wasn’t sure how well he could use them with a few drinks in his system.
“I’m not sure I really bought in to the whole ‘goddess-ruler’ thing anyway.”  Sail’s comment was a risk, and a long shot at that.  There might be the off chance the mare was dissatisfied with her government, but Equestrian dissidents were much more rare than in the United States.
The gamble failed, along with Sail’s hope for scoring.  Andy pulled him away.  Sail drained his glass.  Irritation was on his face, but it was clear he wasn't yet willing to quit.  Andy thought perhaps they would both feel better in the morning if they called it an early night, but as loyal wingman, he was willing to go along with whatever Sail wanted.
Over the next hour, no progress was made.  In fact, the locals seemed to have brought out the romantic surface-to-air missiles.  After being shot down repeatedly, Sail was getting visibly drunker and more frustrated.  Even when familiar music from Earth came on the bar’s sound system, he didn’t perk up.
“I say, I say,” he accosted a group of ponies on their way out the door, “would one of you like to accompany me to my well-appointed abode?  I own a pleasure watercraft that we can take for a sailing cruise.  Or perhaps one of you lovely ladies would like to take up my generous offer of a pony ride?”
Andy facepalmed.  “I think it’s time to go.  You’re starting to talk like a southern colonel.”
“Well my dear Andrew, that means that the party has truly begun.”  Sail turned, sloshing a little of his drink.  “Come on, boy.  I think that perhaps we should go and talk to that pretty filly again.  Second time’s the charm, after all.”
“This is not a good idea,” Andy interjected.
“I’ll just be a minute.”  Sail flew somewhat crookedly across the bar, heading for the first mare they’d spotted.  She had been joined by two other ponies.  Andy hurried after Sail, although not quickly enough.  When he arrived, Sail was hovering in front of a red earth stallion, one of the largest ponies Andy had ever seen.  It was a good thing the earth pony must have also been rather patient, because Sail drunkenly poking him in the nose hadn’t caused a reaction yet.  “And another thing, you oversized steed-”
“Sorry,” said Andy, grabbing Sail’s tail and dragging him backwards.  Whether Sail meant to or not, he instinctively lashed out at having his tail pulled, kicking Andy in the forehead and knocking him to the floor.
Andy got up, tenderly feeling the goose egg on his head.  His sobriety made it hurt more.  While he was down, a mare wearing a cowboy hat who was standing with the Manehattan visitor had produced a lariat from somewhere and hogtied Sail.  She glanced at Andy while tying knots and easily holding down the struggling pegasus stallion.  “Are you with him?”
“Yeah.  I’m sorry, he had way too much to drink.”  Andy raised his voice over Sail's protests of undignified treatment.
“A night’s stay in jail would fix him right up,” suggested the cowpony.
Forgetting his aching head, Andy waved his hands.  “No, I don’t think it would.  I’ll just get him back through the doorway and we won’t bother you anymore.”
“What’s this about jail?” asked a police pony, appearing as if by magic.  Truthfully, it was probably the commotion inside the bar that attracted him to the scene.  He took in the sight of the bound Sail and a couple of unhappy locals.
Andy facepalmed for the second time that night.  He watched the cop drag the drunken Sail out of the bar and down the street.  Andy walked glumly after them.  It was actually not the first time something like this had happened, but the first time in Equestria.
“You’re his friend, right?” asked the police officer.
“Yes sir.”
“Pig,” spat Sail.  “Just wait until my parents find out.  They take care of me.  You’ll have so much of lawyers, guns, and money thrown all over everything, you won’t know what to do.”
“Please don’t take anything he says seriously,” begged Andy.  When Sail started quoting Warren Zevon, things were truly out of hand.
The cop shrugged.  “I’ve seen his type before.  Sooner or later they learn that mommy and daddy won’t be there to protect them from themselves forever.  They can’t handle the big scary world all on their own.”
Andy couldn’t disagree.  Arriving at the police station, he sat with Sail in the waiting room while the arrest paperwork was processed.  Some of the Sail’s intoxication seemed to have worn off and now he appeared to be taking stock of his situation.  “I guess it’s not a big deal.  They’re just going to keep me until morning, right?  Maybe if I'm allowed to make a phone call, dad can have me released tonight.”
“You rely on your parents too much,” said Andy quietly.  “I know that they’ve gotten you out of trouble in the past, but, well…”
“What?” muttered Sail.
“Nothing.”
“No, come on dude, you were going to say something.”  Sail turned to face Andy as much as his bindings would allow.  He looked slightly ridiculous, the rope wrapping around most of his body.
“You’re kind of an egotistical rich kid.”  Andy had wanted to say that for a long time, but never managed to.  Maybe he was afraid of losing a friend who paid for all his drinks.  Andy felt kind of bad for being that shallow.
“You sound like everyone at school,” grumbled Sail.
“Because they have a point.”  Andy decided that if his feelings were going to come out, he might as well say his piece while Sail was still drunk.  “You have this nice safety net to catch you when you screw up.  I’ll bet this jail visit won’t even go on your record.  All you have to do is call up your wealthy parents and they’ll give you everything you need to get out of trouble.  Maybe not literally lawyers, guns, and money, but my point is that us regular people don’t have that luxury.”
Sail considered that.  His face went thought a couple of emotions; surprise, contemplation, some slight hostility.  Andy could see his mind working, even impaired by alcohol as it was.  Sail cleared his throat.  “Well, what do you want me to do?  I can’t help what family I was born to.”
“No, but you don’t have to be a jerk about it,” Andy shot back bitterly.  “And your parents won't be around to clean up after you forever.”
There was silence between the two of them for a moment.  It stretched long and uncomfortably.  Andy felt a bump at his ribs and looked sideways.  It was all the touch Sail could manage with ropes tying him up.
“Aw man, I’m sorry.  I kind of dragged you here to pick up a mare and totally cockblocked your evening.”  Sail’s speech was slurred, but it was a remarkable turnaround in attitude.  His ears had gone limp with uncomfortable admission.  “I know you don’t have to do this for me.  Next week we’ll do stuff you want to do.  I’ll even let you pay, if it would make you feel better.”
“I would be fine with just staying out of police stations,” replied Andy.
“Yeah.”  Sail looked like he was trying hard to collect serious thoughts.  It even looked like he realized that he hadn't managed to give a real apology yet and that Andy deserved one.  Sail swallowed uncertainly.  “I’m sorry.  I guess I hadn’t thought about what you were going through for me.  I am kind of an ass for letting it happen.  You’re a better friend than I deserve.  Really, you’re a good guy.”
“Just don’t say ‘I love you, man’ and we’ll be okay,” grumbled Andy.
It was not quite forgiveness, but more of a statement of understanding.  Sail leaned back, knowing that was all he was going to get, and probably realizing it was exactly what he deserved.  Both of them were silent for a moment.
“So...drinking in Canada next week?” asked Sail.  As Andy pointed a glare at him, he leaned away.  “Kidding!  Jeeze, things are supposed to be funnier with you're drunk.”