“Hey! Ye lick’le bitch!”
Cherry kept walking, curious to see just how far the stallion would take it. Dodge followed beside her, chuckling under his breath as he noted the growing mob of angry colts behind them.
“‘Ey! I’m talkin’ to ye!”
The green in the stallion’s hair could hardly be seen through the mess of bandages that covered the majority of his body. He stumbled a bit as he walked, possibly due to the splints in both forelegs, but managed to maintain a healthy level of hatred in his gaze as he staggered towards them.
Cherry stopped, sighed, and turned to address the sailor hobbling her way. “What can I do for you, sport?” She couldn’t quite put her hoof on it, but the guy seemed somehow familiar...
“Ye can feckin’ suck mah stones a’fore I kill ye fer stuffin’ a bottle up mah browneye!”
Oooh, yes. She remembered him. Brief flashes of memory from the night before floated up through the haze of alcohol. Several of them featured this stallion and a hoofful of objects from around the bar, as well as a cloud of blind rage.
“Oh! Oh, yeah. Heh. Look, sorry about that, guy, but I was drunk and you were being repulsive as hell...and, well, you know how it goes.” She tried to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. It was early, she was in a relatively good mood, and they technically had an appointment to keep.
Ol’ Salty didn’t get the hint. He reared up on his back hooves (impressive for a pony with four fractured limbs) and spat directly at her hooves.
“Yeah, I see how it goes. So mah boys an’ I hope ye don’t mind iff’n we beat tha ever-lovin’ shite outta ye. Ya know how’s it goes.” Five more brawny thugs crept up behind him, fanning out into a wide wall of hurt headed towards the officers.
The cripple was the first to move, bellowing in rage and hurling himself bodily at Cherry. He stopped with a flat crunch as Dodge’s right forehoof dug into his face, mewling meekly before crumpling into a sad, broken, unconscious heap.
“That’s one. Which one’a ya lucky chucklefucks is next?” Dodge tapped a Mareboro out of his pack and lit up, blowing a short puff of smoke towards the group of colts. One corn-fed specimen, looking like he just stepped out of a horrible research lab that combined stallions with dump trucks, ambled forward and snorted.
“There’s just two of ‘em, idiots. Cops ‘round here think they run the damn place. We gonna teach ‘em a lesson, or what!?”
Following in his hoofsteps, the band moved in for the kill. Dodge pushed his aviators up the bridge of his nose and took a step forward, stopping when he felt Cherry’s baton tap him on the flank.
“There’s only one thing we can do in a situation like this, Dodge. We’re...gonna have to do that.”
Her partner sighed, popping his joints and eying the approaching mob.
“You’re sure? There’s only five of ‘em. We could, y’know, pretend we’re real cops for once.” Cherry shook her head vehemently, ignoring any other option. “Yeah,” Dodge shrugged. “You’re right. Not really our style. So...that?”
Spinning her baton, Cherry jumped up onto Dodge’s shoulders. The brickhouse stallion lifted her above his head with his forehooves, aiming her towards the now-rapidly-backpedaling mass of scumbags. This was like shooting fish in a milk carton.
Hurling her with all of his strength, Dodge sent the little white mare barreling towards her targets - a madly grinning missile with a batonful of pain held in her magical grip.
“FASTBALL SPECIAL, BITCH!”
-----
Cherry's house looked cheerful enough. The small suburb's row of gingerbread-topped homes ended on the street corner with her yellow-and-fuschia monstrosity of a flat.The prevailing architectural aesthetic in Ponyville proper seemed to be diabetes chic, and the policemare's house proved to be no exception. To be honest, the colorful little house looked more like something Ponyville's resident party-loving baker-slash-mare-of-mischief would hawk sugary treats in, rather than shelter the resident peacekeeping arsonist.
A grinning lawn flamingo bore a hastily-scrawled sign around its neck: "Emergencies by appointment only. Trespassers will be violated. Keep off the grass." The plastic bird apparently enforced the rules with the large, menacing purple dildo that had been duct-taped to its left wing.
Ah, yes. It was Cherry's home, after all.
As his partner led him up the brick path to her front door, Dodge realized with a start that he'd never actually been inside her house before.
"I admit I had ya pegged for somethin' a little more...frightenin', Cher'. Wasn't even sure this was your place 'til I saw your lawn ornament." He didn't even bother warranting the offending toy a glance. The otherwise freakish normalcy of the house was more surprising than what he had come to associate as pedestrian in this particular unicorn's life.
Cherry laughed as she floated her keys from her kevlar saddlebags. "C'mon, Dodge, I can't be a baton-swinging lunatic all the time. I'd get worn out, start to lose my edge. Even the baton's getting a little old. Maybe I should use an axe instead. Whaddya think?" She leered back at him as the tumblers in her door clicked into place.
"What, like some kinda axe-cop? Nah. That'd never work. The Chief'd probably try t' figure out a way t' strangle ya with it." While a fan of the unconventional, Even Chief Iron Will had his limits when it came to madness in the name of the law. Which he often enforced with further madness.
"Duly noted. Now come help me grab this stuff so we can get back to your maidens fair."
The visiting royalty had left them back near the center of town, electing to stay behind and lounge near the large fountain that had been erected near a towering statue of Celestia. Luna had already sent Iron Will and Gilda on their way to "prepare" for their new assignment, leaving each of them with instructions to pick up their necessities and equipment before returning. Dodge had already packed his department-issued saddlebags with a spare uniform, flashlight, hoofcuffs, and other tools of the trade.
Cherry, apparently, had much more to bring.
"Comin', Charger?" She trotted inside her home, telekinetically hanging the saddlebags on a coat rack next to the door. Dodge lumbered into her space, marveling at how clean the place was. At work, Cherry's desk was a nightmare of shifting stacks of reports, inkstains, drawerfuls of contraband, and at least one smoldering ash pit. This house was pristine. He felt sorry just for treading his horseshoes all over the rug at the entrance.
He whistled. The carpets were freshly washed and steamed, a small fire crackled in the stone fireplace; even the kitchen, Cherry's well-known personal Tartarus, looked like something out of a department store catalogue.
"You, uh...you've got a nice place here, Cher'. Real clean."
"This is the house of a serial axe killer in the making. She alphabetizes her spices." Discord's voice wandered through Dodge's head, followed by the distinctive whack of a badminton racquet.
"Mornin', Discord," the stallion muttered quietly.
"Good morning, Dodge. I hope you don't mind my getting a late start today. I popped in to see how things were going earlier, and I got to see you pop into a pair of giggling fillies that I only previously knew for their phenomenal cosmic power." Dodge wanted to die.
"Now I understand just how terribly flexible they can be in a pinch. I thought it prudent to go back to bed for a bit. Ooh, touchdown! And the crowd goes wild!" A whistle blew behind Dodge's eyes; he heard the sound of a stadium filled with cheering fans. He desperately tried to change the subject.
"So, uh...what are you playing?" He could hear Cherry in the next room, rummaging through something and cursing under her breath.
"Calvinball. Helps keep the ol' thinkpan limbered up. By the by, what's all this business about your new little C.L.O.P. squad? That name is absolutely adorable."
Dodge sank into a depressingly comfortable recliner and rubbed at his eyes.
"I'm stuck in a tryst between two gorgeous an' terrifyin' mares whose only apparent goal is t' try an' mess with my head, I might've just been dragged into the ranks of what I hope isn't some kinda weird police masturbation division, my boss is a psychotic motivational-speaker-turned-bodybuilder, my partner's a pyromaniac an' possibly OCD neat-freak, an' the Spirit of Chaos is playin' with himself in my skull." He was mentally tired. A gong sounded from his nostrils.
"Love-fifteen. Thirty yards to the goal. Sorry, I wasn't listening. Whatever you were saying, I suggest murder."
"How is this my life?" He groaned, reclining farther back until he could stare at the ceiling. Huh. Even Cherry's miniature chandelier had been freshly dusted. His gaze turned back to the fireplace and the spotless mantle above it. A small picture frame held an old photograph of a smiling mare and a tiny, wild-maned filly. The filly was trapped in time, forever tossing firecrackers in the air as the mare looked on appreciatively.
All further conjecture died when the duffel bag hit him in the face.
"Wake up, Dodge, I need you to help me carry this junk.” She shuffled past him, carrying a second bag slung over her shoulders. Dodge took a second to unzip the duffel in his hooves.
“You’re bringing...seventy-eight pairs of hoofcuffs?”
“And another fifty batons. I don’t know what kind of equipment they’re gonna have waiting for us...wherever we’re going. I didn’t want to take any chances. Why, aren’t you bringing anything?”
He shrugged. It hadn’t really occurred to him to bring anything other than a hoofful of spare uniforms and a carton of smokes.
“Eh, whatever. We can always run back here and pick some junk up if we need it. It’s not like we’re leaving the country or anything.” She dismissed the conversation with a quick wave of her hoof. “Oh, hey, wanna see something cool?” Whipping out with her tail, Cherry caught a delicately-crafted vase off the edge of a table and sent it crashing to the floor.
Dodge stared at the mess of porcelain on the hardwood floor. “Honestly? That’s pretty mellow for you.”
“Excuse.”
The policepony nearly shrieked as a staggeringly old mare appeared behind him, shambling towards the mess and cleaning it with a broom and dustpan that she apparently procured from nowhere. Her gray mane contrasted her bright yellow coat and black maid’s uniform. “Excuse,” she muttered again as she stepped around Cherry and disappeared somewhere in the kitchen.
“Well, uh...I guess that explains how somepony like you keeps th’ place so damn clean. She really pops out at ya, doesn’t she?” Dodge found himself sitting in the recliner again, trying to lower his heart rate.
“Yeah, she came with the place when I inherited it from my mom,” Cherry mused. “I don’t even know her name. Tried to tell her to leave a couple years ago, but she didn’t get the message. At least she picks up after me.” Adjusting her bag, she headed for the door.
The elderly maid was already there, waiting with Cherry’s saddlebags and staring at the two ponies with unblinking eyes.
“Goodbye,” she breathed as she settled the bags over cherry’s hindquarters.
“Yeah, see ya, you old bat. Thanks.” Cherry left the house without another word, leaving Dodge to follow her out while trying not to make eye contact with the Uncanny Valley’s cleaning lady. As soon as the door shut behind them, Dodge exhaled in relief.
“She’s...different.”
“I don’t even know how she keeps getting in the house,” Cherry replied. “I’ve changed the locks four times. I even tried to cuff her once. She got out of ‘em while I was getting ready for work and made me a pack lunch.”
Dodge chanced a quick look over his shoulder at the quiet little house on the corner. From the living room window, a pair of wide, yellowed eyes stared back.
Nope. Shivering from a cold wind that wasn’t there, he joined his partner in their return trip to the center of town.
“Let’s get out of here, Cher’. We’ve got royalty waitin’ on th’ two best cops to ever come out of Ponyville PD.”
-----
“And that is why We consider the two of you to be, bar none, the two worst police officers in the history of the Ponyville Police Department.” Princess Luna had wasted no time in leading the newly-minted C.L.O.P.S. agents from the center of Ponyville and towards the Golden Oaks Library, of all places.
Dodge and Cherry lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as their sovereign began listing their faults.
“Officer Dodge Charger. When was the last time you actually completed a police report?”
He began sweating as he spoke. “Wait...we, uh...we actually have t’do those? I always thought they were some kinda joke the clerks kept playin’ on us.”
The princess tossed her mane to the side, leveling a stern eye in his direction before turning her approach towards Cherry.
“Officer Cherry-Ann Berries. How many days has it been since you committed a blatant act of arson while on patrol?”
Cherry started to speak, thought about it, and fell silent again. After doing a little math in her head, she replied, “ Well...it would have been about three days, but we kinda got into a little rumble with some idiots from the bar this morning. I...think I set one of them on fire.” Luna stared at her. “Oh, and he may have accidentally spread the blaze to a passing taxi cab and two or three vegetable carts. I didn’t really stay around long enough to count.”
The Princess of the Night shook her head, throwing a knowing glance at the Changeling Queen by her side.
“As We stated. Neither of you are particularly fit to continue in your positions as police officers. So you’re both fired.” She swung the library’s front door open as they approached the massive tree. “That is of course not to say that neither of you have particularly useful attributes. You are both unswerving in the line of duty, as proven during your recent encounter with the Changeling armada. Your ability to cause unprecedented and often unintended levels of damage is impressive. And Officer Charger, you are a stellar lay.”
“I’ve gotta admit, I’ve learned a thing or two in the past couple days. You’ve got some smooth moves, Dodge.”
To his credit, Dodge just shut his mouth, ignored the Spirit of Chaos, and suffered in silent embarrassment.
A cute purple unicorn poked her head out from the second level as the group entered, rolling her eyes as she regarded the entourage. She fired a quick bolt of magic into a device hidden upstairs before trotting down to meet them. Cherry couldn’t help but notice the thick bundle of cables that ran down the staircase, ending at a large metallic pad in the middle of the library’s main floor. A series of intricately-carved circles and geometric shapes scarred the metal’s otherwise flawless surface.
“Princess Luna! You’re late,” she deadpanned.
The princess scoffed and led the former police officers behind her onto the metal platform. “Nonsense, Twilight Sparkle. A princess is never late. She arrives precisely when—”
“No. You’re literally two hours late. I’ve had this stupid arcano-tech amplification circle up and running since six this morning. I’ve already sent Iron Will and Gilda off to Goddesses-know-where with it! Where have you been!?”
“We took a short...pit stop, Twilight.” Chrysalis draped herself lavishly over Twilight’s back, playing idly with the smaller mare’s mane. “I for one needed to recharge my batteries. Which, I admit, are feeling woefully undernourished right now...”
“...Queen Chrysalis. Good morning. Please get off of me.” The unicorn’s gaze had turned to tempered steel as the changeling rubbed intimately between her shoulder blades.
“Oh, not even a little reciprocation for this poor old regent? You wound me, Twilight.”
Twilight shrugged the queen off of her back, choosing to stand on the opposite side of the room near an impressive-looking control panel for her device.
“You tried to murder me! And the majority of my friends and family! And I’m not gay!” She seethed as she began to power up the sparkle-batteries that fed pure, carefully-harnessed magic into the machine.
Chrysalis sauntered to her side, peering intently at the controls as she whispered into Twilight’s ear: “That’s not what you said last night in your sleep.”
“And how were you watching me sleep!?” Twilight threw a final switch in frustration, shouting over the rising hum of engines buried deep beneath her treehouse. Chrysalis shrugged in response.
“Technically, I watch everypony sleep through my swarm’s mental webway. Here’s another fun fact: you’re never more than twenty hoofstrides from a changeling. Pleasant dreams, dear.” Tittering in delight, the queen stepped up onto the platform and readied herself for the trip. Princess Luna looked to the ground, embarrassed, and raised her hoof into the air.
“We admit that We also watch you sleep. Your dreams are usually very interesting. And also very, very gay.”
Twilight looked ready for murder. Cherry fancied she could actually see the five-step plan for their total annihilation being built behind her eyes.
“Just...just get in the amplification circle.”
Princess Luna joined Chrysalis in the center of the circle, beckoning Dodge and Cherry to join them. A low thrum vibrated through the base of the structure and into the foundations of the tree itself. Somewhere deep below, a high-pitched whine began to gain intensity.
“Dodge Charger and Cherry-Ann Berries,” Luna began, “today I release you from your duties as police officers in the Ponyville Police Department. Instead you will serve as the first field agents in what is to become the greatest anti-terrorism force known to ponykind. Are you prepared?”
Dodge stamped out the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips, earning him a groan from the unicorn behind the controls. He nudged his partner next to him, a smile stuck on his face.
“Whaddya think, Cherry? Ready to go fight some terror?” She returned his grin.
“Wouldn’t think of lettin’ you go by yourself, you big idiot. Gotta have somepony around to set fires and hit things with sticks.”
“Well...I’m sure wherever adventure’s waitin’, there’ll be plenty o’ shit for you to torch.”
Over the thrumming bass beneath his hooves and the rattling of every object in the library, Dodge could still make out faint vomiting noises coming from inside his skull.
“The two of you are so...ridiculously corny. I for one just hope the writers are a little better wherever we’re going.”
“Everypony just shut the hell up and get out of my house!” Twilight smashed a button in the middle of her control console, sending an arc of magical energy into the platform and its four passengers. The thrum rose to a deafening sonic boom, shattering every window in the home and several around the block. A bright, blue flash enveloped the party in the circle...and in the next moment, they were gone.
Twilight Sparkle picked herself up from the pile of books and debris that had been scattered by the blast. Apparently hauling four passengers through a teleportation spell amplified by one-to-the-gajillionth-power wasn’t something she should try anytime soon. As she dusted herself off and began to pick up her destroyed library, a quick knock echoed through the cracked front door.
Dropping her items in a huff, Twilight stomped over to the door and threw it open with a burst of magic.
“What?”
The brown-coated Doctor pressed his way inside without an invitation, regarding the scene of carnage and the still-smoking center of the amplification circle. Turning quickly, he beamed at the librarian still standing in the doorway.
“Good morning, Miss Twilight! I’m...not late, am I?”
Ponyville 911: Fin