//------------------------------// // 8. A Trot Through Manehattan // Story: Twist // by pinklover12 //------------------------------// This city is way too shiny... Agent 2-20 thought as she gazed around the city of Manehattan. 2-20 had arrived at the huge metropolis about half an hour ago by train, and she was working her way through the city, desperately trying to find something to report to the captain, so this could be over, or at least so she'd have some information. To put it simply, the notes for case 2-88-12 were pitiful. The case folder (now stashed in the back pocket of 2-20's hated black jacket) hardly contained any info at all, just random words and the occasional doodle. It even seemed to contain Silver Moon's personal case notes, which - in Agent 2-20's opinion - were even more useless. They didn't even offer any information, just words in silver ink saying things like Pay no mind! ;), Nothing to see here., and This means nothing :), usually next to scribbled-out notes. Dear Celestia, that mare is annoying... 2-20 thought. To be fair, the horribleness of the case files might have been a blessing. Agent 2-20 was almost certain she'd discover nothing, and this would be a nice vacation for her. Yes, Manehattan was far too shiny, but 2-20 respected the more orderly aspects of it. She was a mare of high Canterlot blood, even though she'd left that life years ago. The fine and classy city called out to her, and 2-20 could not resist. For one, the city was on the coast of Equestria, far from Canterlot, and far from 2-20's painful past and tedious workplace. Also - a bonus to the first perk - the city was far from Celestia. Not to lie, Agent 2-20 adored, respected, and loved her boss, supreme ruler, and goddess. What she hated was having to call her a supreme ruler and goddess. Unlike the citizens of Canterlot, who worshipped the Sun Princess with every fiber of their being, Manehattan was a free city. It was strange that an agent of order and law (or perhaps because she was an agent of order and law) would take a guilty pleasure in the sights of graffiti and small scuffles like Agent 2-20 did. Ah, that was what she loved about Manehattan. Ponies really took things seriously here! In Canterlot, everyone pranced around happily, without a care in the world. But it this city of shininess (seriously like way too shiny) ponies were real! The common crime toughened ponies up, made them smarter, made them better. If you had a deep conversation with a Manhattanite, they would listen, and not just sit there with a stupid grin on their face. If you made a (borderline) offensive joke, ponies would laugh - or at least beat you up. Still better on getting a lecture on friendship, or some manure like that. If you asked a Manehattanite a serious, deep question, they would answer truly and honestly. Or lie to cheat you out of your money. That's what's great about Manehattan. Ponies take what they want. "Move it, mule!" "Hey!" Agent 2-20 yelled as she was shoved out of the way by a (very rude) Manehattan stallion, and nearly trampled by a chariot as she tripped onto the road. “Ay! Buck you!” “You tryin’ to get yourself killed?” “On the sidewalk, mule!” Okay, maybe Manehattan was a bit overrated… - - - - - ∞ - ∞∞∞ - ∞ - - - - - Agent 2-20 gazed around the room as she entered the restaurant, nicely quiet for a place so packed with ponies. The pale pony hesitantly strode through the diner, gazing around the vast room and earning a few strange looks herself with her heavy black coat, dark glasses, and chopped-short, heavily dyed mane. It was a suitably fancy place, with rich and polished wood lining every surface, ornate gold finishes, and exquisite-looking paintings on each wall, being gazed at by several exquisite-looking ponies. Just a nice place to rest for a while and sort out my notes... 2-20 thought. Definitely not going to eat anything... The agent's mouth watered as she looked around the diner, especially at the plates packed with delicious-looking food. She immediately whipper her head around and focused her attention on once again surveying the room. Despite the suffocating layer of fanciness, Agent 2-20 noticed a certain theme to the place. There was a porcelain orange sphere gently placed on every table, several paintings depicting actualist or surrealist orange fruits, and many of the carved wood patterns or gold accessories depicted oranges. This, of course, went perfectly with the sign outside saying "MISS ORANGE’S BISTRO AND BAKERY" Probably should have guessed that earlier… “Hello dear! What can I get ya?” Agent 2-20 nearly jumped backwards. The elegant mare had strode up to her side silently, and 2-20, so focused in capturing the details of the fancy restaurant, had let her alertness and spy instincts slide a bit. “Oh, my! I apologize for startling you, dear. I asked if you would like anything at this moment. My name is Miss Orange, by the way.” The mare certainly fit the name. Her coat was a rich and vibrant tangerine hue, her mane a creamy orange, and even her eyes, intently staring at the startled agent, were as bright a green as an orange leaf. “Um, I’d… I’d like a table, please?” “Oh of course, dear! I’ll get ya one right away, dear.” The orange mare answered in a strange accent, an odd blend of Manehattanite and Appleoosan. A red and green stallion appeared beside the mare, and led Agent 2-20 to a table. - - - - - ∞ - ∞∞∞ - ∞ - - - - - Pure heaven… Agent 2-20 was lounging in her seat at the Orange Diner, tired and elated from all she had eaten. The agent usually kept on a strict diet to ensure physical perfection, but she just couldn’t resist. Such amazing cuisine! 2-20 had first ordered a small appetizer of orange sorbet, looking for something small to munch on while reviewing case files, but as soon as the food touched her lips, she wanted more. She’d moved on to another appetizer of orange-carrot sticks, an entré of hay steak with an orange glaze, a dessert of orange cake and orange ice cream, and topped it off with a nice ordinary apple pie. It was all absolutely delicious, no other way to describe it. “Hello dear! Anything else you need?” Miss Orange once again appeared next to the stuffed agent, always seeming to be at every customer’s side at once. “Oh, no. That’s all I’ll have for now. I’d, uh, like the check. Um… Please.” Agent 2-20 replied in a stuttering voice, a bit ashamed for letting her guard down like this. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, dear. But it’s been a real pleasure to dine with you!” Agent 2-20 gazed at the pretty mare’s smiling face, clearly so overjoyed at such a good customer. I suppose it’s all right to let your guard down once in a while… “The bill’s six hundred bits.” Any passerby at that particular time, and at that particular place on that particular Manehattan block, would have clearly seen a tall, thin mare with a pale periwinkle coat and dark indigo mane, clothed in a heavy black coat and dark sunglasses, bolt out of the doors of a fancy restaurant, and gallop down the street as if running for her life.