Ponyville Pawn Stars

by TimidWolf

Episode 2: Pinkie Pawn

I'm Cash Money, and this is my pawn shop. I work here with my sire, Old Money; and my colt, Big Hoss.

Everything in here has a story and a price. One thing I've learned in all my years in Ponyville, is that you never know what is going to trot through that door.

This is Ponyville Pawn Stars.

It was the start of another beautiful day in Ponyville. As the birds in the trees and the animals in the ground began to wake up, so did the ponies in town. When the birds started to sing and the animals emerged from their subterranean homes, the businessponies started opening their doors and putting their wares out for sale. Ponies swept and tidied up their areas, eager to entice customers with a clean store and fair prices.

Cash and his crew were already ahead of the curve set by the Ponyville business district. Old Money, always an early riser, had come in to the Silver Saddle just before dawn to relieve the night shift worker, check inventory and count out the register tills. Cash and Big Hoss arrived together shortly thereafter to do some accounting and store cleanup. Later, after dropping her filly off at school, Derpy glided in to help with cleanup and make the first pot of coffee. When Cash helped himself to a mug of Derpy's brew, the first few regular customers had already started coming in. He took one look out the front window to see what he saw every morning: all the other ponies only just unlocking their doors and getting their day started.

Cash took a sip of his black coffee. "Mmm," Cash swallowed and called out, "Hey, Big Hoss!"

"Yeah?" Hoss called back from the office.

"Did you help Derpy make this pot?"

"Yeah, I did. I told her to stop using paper towels as filters."

"I thought it tasted better," Cash remarked. "Thanks, Big..."

His conversation was cut short by a pink blur bouncing into the shop. It narrowly avoided colliding with other browsing ponies on its way to the front counter where Cash stood. The blur bounced right up to him, stopped in front of his face, and greeted him excitedly.

"Hiya, Cashie!" she exclaimed. "Beeeautiful morning, huh?"

"Wha?!" Cash was startled and nearly dropped his mug. Then after his brain caught up and recognized the cheery pony in front of his face he returned her greeting. "Oh, hey there, Pinkie Pie! Yeah, it sure is. Did you have your coffee this morning?"

"Coffee? Nah, I don't drink coffee, 'cause it makes ya hyper!" Pinkie said. "I don't like starting my day all bouncing off the walls and stuff!"

"Good point," Cash said as he peered around her to make sure her entrance hadn't knocked over any breakables or ponies. Turning his attention back to her, he asked, "So Pinkie, what brings you here first thing this morning?"

She had her face and front hooves stuffed inside one of the saddlebags she brought in for a few moments until she pulled out a large, bulky contraption. "This," she said as she dropped it on the counter with a loud thud, "is what brings me here first thing this morning!"

Cash looked at the object, clearly bigger than what her saddlebags could carry, then looked at Pinkie and back at the object. "How did you...I mean, to put in your...and to even lift the thing?" Cash tried to ask, but couldn't find the words and gave up trying.

Pinkie Pie is...well, she's Pinkie Pie, Cash said in an on-camera interview. You can't always explain what she's doing or what she'll do next, but she never fails to surprise you. And today, it looked like I was going to receive yet another one of her pleasant surprises.

"I bet you can't tell me what this is!" Pinkie said.

"I bet you I can, and I bet I can figure out how to make it work. Hmm," he thought aloud as he looked over its sturdy porcelain and metal casing, various buttons and switches, and the two metal objects that looked like very thick whisks protruding down from part of the assembly. "Oh, I know what this is!" Cash said. "It's a hoofmatic mixer. For the kitchen, right?"

"And the point goes to Cash!" Pinkie said. "That's exactly what it is!"

"Yeah, let me see how this works," he said as looked over the machine. "Okay, these switches down here control speed and oscillation, this is the button that starts it, but how...aha! This right here is the lever that winds it up. Can I go ahead and test it out, Pinkie?"

"Yah-huh!"

"Great! Before we do anything let's take these mixer attachments off. Safety first, right?" He disconnected the metal pieces and put them aside. "Now all you do is push this a few times..." Cash put his hoof down on a paddle-shaped lever and pumped it down a few times. As he did, the machine made clicking noises. When he couldn't push the lever any further, he stopped and put his hoof over the power button. "Now it should be all wound up, so when I press this button," he said as he pressed the button and the machine whirred to life, "presto! It runs!"

"Two points!" Pinkie exclaimed. "You did it, just like you said. How do you figure these things out?"

Cash shrugged and said, "It's a gift, I guess."

For years, unicorn chefs had the upper hoof in the kitchen by prepping meals with magic-powered appliances, Cash said in an on-camera interview. But recently, machines like this have started coming out that put the non-magically inclined culinary masters on the same playing field. All you have to do is spend a few seconds cranking a handle and you've got several minutes of power to use mixing your cake batter or what have you. This thing might work and even look a little like a wind-up toy, but it provides some serious kitchen aid.

"This must have come in pretty handy for you in the kitchen, huh?" Cash asked. "I mean, being a non-magical pony and all?"

"Oh, you bet!" Pinkie exclaimed. "Don't get me wrong, I love prepping my cakes by hoof as much as the next pony, but this thing opens up all kinds of party prepping possibilities! Look at all the attachments it's got!" She opened a side panel on the machine and revealed attachments of all sizes and shapes. "I've made cakes, puddings, smoothies and even party dip from scratch!"

"And with no hooves required," Cash said. "Well, not beyond pushing this little lever over and over."

"Yeah, it sure beats beating eggs by hoof all day long!" Pinkie said. "Hey, did you hear that? I said beats, then beating! Beats, twice! I should have talked about beating beets, then I would've said, 'beats beating beets!' Except you can't really beat beets, even with this mixer. Somepony should make an attachment for that..."

"Um, Pinkie?" Cash interrupted. "Did you want to sell this, like, today?"

"Oh yeah!" Pinkie said. "Sorry, Cashie, let's get back to business."

"So here's my big question for you, Miss Pinkie," Cash said, looking right at her. "If this little wonder is so great in the kitchen, then why are you selling it to me?"

Pinkie hesitated, as if she didn't really know what to say for a second. Then she said, "Oh, you know, gotta keep everything up to date in the kitchen. Got some bits saved, I'll use that and whatever you'll give me for this to trade on up. Maybe for a pink one! Think I could do that?"

"That depends," Cash said, "on how much you've got saved and what I'll want to pay after I take a closer look at this beast. From what I've seen already I know it's used, but it's not very old and has been very well maintained. It looks quite clean, except for this one sticky spot here. Let me see if...no, it doesn't come off easy. There must have been some kind of sticker here, maybe a property label-"

"Property? Um, nope, don't think so!" Pinkie interjected. "This belongs to me, just me..."

"Um...okay, then," Cash said. "So how much do you want for it?"

"You said it's used, right? How does two hundred bits sound?" Pinkie asked. "These babies are selling retail for at least four hundred."

"You know, Pinkie, I think you're right, so I'd probably buy this at two..."

"One-fifty, then!" she interrupted.

"Huh?" Cash said, bewildered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Pinkie asked.

"It's just that I thought I heard you say you'd sell this to me for one-fifty when I just said I'd buy it for two hundred."

"Oh, well, you know, one-fifty, two hundred, whatever," she said indifferently. "I can meet you in the middle at one seventy-five if you want."

"Um, okay...that sounds...good to me..." Cash said, unsure of exactly what to think about the exceedingly odd pink pony by now.

Something doesn't seem right here, Cash confessed on-camera. Normally I would be talking her prices down, but she appears to be doing that for me. And the first number she threw out wasn't even a bad offer, because I was already willing to pay that. This is the sort of act I've seen before from the shady ponies, but this is Pinkie Pie we're talking about here. Maybe there's a good reason for why she's acting like this. In any case, I'm not one to look a gift pony in the mouth.

"All right then," Cash said, shaking her hoof, "let's go wrote this up."

"Cool!" Pinkie said. "I'll meet you over there!" She happily bounced her way over to the payment counter.

"That's my line, Pinkie," Cash muttered to himself as he walked toward the counter.

After Cash handed the pink pretty party pony her money and she went on her merry way, his morning began to resume its normal pace. All the ponies he expected to see throughout his day came and went: stallions who considered picking up this or that piece of jewelry for the mare on their minds, carpenter ponies who debated if they needed that box of shiny like-new tools or not, and the occasional collectors who searched high and low for that coin, stamp or gem that would complete their hoards.

He did not expect the midnight blue pegasus colt who slipped inside his store without so much raising anypony's attention until he stood before Cash at his counter. One moment Cash was pony-watching and thinking to himself, and the next this shadow of a pegasus seemed to appear out of thin air in front of him. His coat looked to be about the same color as Princess Luna's, and he wore a set of equally dark blue saddlebags emblazoned with a black lightning bolt.

"Hello," he said to Cash in an exotic accent.

"Hello," Cash said back.

"I am Indigo," the colt said. "I have something you may be interested in buying."

"Perhaps," Cash countered, "if you are interested in selling."

Indigo looked at Cash quizzically and asked, "You are not trying to patronize me, are you?"

"Oh no, no," Cash answered. "Just trying to break the ice a little, you know."

"Ah," the colt said. "I see."

"So what've you got for me?" Cash asked.

"I have," Indigo said as he put his nose into the saddlebag and pulled out a length of blue material that flew like a flag in the air before settling down on the counter, "this."

"Okay," Cash said as he got a closer look at the item. It turned out that the material had a hood and sleeves as well as a double gray-line trim that ran along most of the seams. "This looks like a pegasus flight suit. And right here," he said as he pointed with one hoof to a spot on the top of the suit between the wing slits, "it looks like it's been autographed."

"Indeed," Indigo told the pawnbroker. "This is the flight suit worn by Silver Streak when he won the Eighth Wonderbolt Grand Prix. That was the year he set the record race time, so he signed his flight suit for the occasion."

"Really?" Cash asked. "That's pretty awesome. How did you come to get this thing?"

"Silver Streak was my uncle," the pegasus said with pride. "He gave this suit to his brother, my father, who passed it on to me."

"And why are you selling it?" Cash asked.

"Alas, I am in need of money," Indigo said. "I have nopony to pass this treasure on to; otherwise, I would not consider parting with it."

It's unfortunate when a pony brings in a family treasure to my shop because they need the money, Cash said in another on-camera interview. I see it all the time in this business. But this piece isn't like granny's old necklace, and this guy isn't just Joe pony from down the way: this suit and this pegasus who brought it in are part of the Wonderbolts' racing legacy. I'd love to have this on display in my shop. If I can get this guy to part with the suit for the right price, I could get collectors from all over the land and sky beating down my door for it. All I need to do is get some more intel on it from somepony who keeps their head in the clouds more than I do.

"So, you said your uncle was a Wonderbolt, huh?" Cash asked Indigo with a hint of skepticism in his voice. "To be honest, your story is kind of a common theme in here. I get ponies all the time who bring in their stuff saying their grandma or second cousin twice removed was some big shot pony who..."

"What exactly are you saying, pawnbroker?!" Indigo cut him off indignantly as he stomped his hoof on the wood floor. "That I am like those other ponies, willing to weave any story and use any means necessary to put more coins in my satchel? Rest assured, I stand for nopony who would cower behind the great Wonderbolt name for any reason whatsoever!"

"Hey now, ease up!" Cash told the infuriated pony. "You know what? Neither do I. I've go no respect for them. But we've been talking awhile and I can tell that what you have here really is something special. That's why I would love to have an expert come down to tell me a little more about your uncle's suit."

"You need an expert to tell you about my uncle's suit?" Indigo asked.

"Well, I don't need an expert, because I could probably spend a few hours pouring through my encyclopedias learning all kinds of facts and statistics about Silver Streak," Cash reasoned. "Or we could talk for hours about your uncle and not get any closer to making a deal here. But I know a pegasus who can tell me everything I need to know about this suit in, like, ten seconds flat. If you wanna sit tight here for a few minutes I can send for her. Would that be okay with you?"

Indigo stood silent for a moment, then spoke. "I do understand your perspective. I, too, would not be so quick to trust a pony with a similar story." He nodded at Cash and said, "Very well, then. I will wait for your expert. I look forward to her evaluation."

"Excellent," Cash said. "I'll send for her now. This is definitely something she'll want to see. Hey, Derpy!"

Derpy flew over to the two of them and asked, "Yes, Mr. Cash, sir?"

Indigo took one look at the goofy gray pegasus and chuckled a little. "This is your expert?" he asked.

"No, no, she's going to get my expert," Cash said, then looked at Derpy. "This guy here has a Wonderbolts flight suit I need some more information on. I think you know who to find for this."

"I'm on it, boss!" Derpy said before she gave a goofy salute and flew for the door.

"And tell her to ease up on the entrance this time!" Cash called after her.

After ten minutes, she flew back into the shop. "Here she comes!" she said. "Everypony might want to hold on to some..."

Derpy's warning was cut off by a six-colored blur that blasted through the front door and sent her spinning. It circled the showroom and whipped up wind gusts that blew papers off of all the counters. Old Money was working on a particularly large stack of paperwork that was toppled and spread everywhere by the cyclone. He grumbled something to himself as he started picking his papers off the floor with his mouth.

The blur stopped to reveal Equestria's guardian of loyalty floating in midair, wings flapping and mouth flashing a wide grin.

"Somepony call for a Wonderbolts expert?" she asked.

"Nice entrance, Rainbow Dash," Cash complimented her. "You didn't knock over any of my breakables this time."

At the front door, Derpy stopped spinning and fell over.

I'm Rainbow Dash. The one and only, she said in her on-camera interview as she kept flying in and out of the frame. Cash calls me in when he wants to know more about stuff having to do with sports or games, or pretty much anything pegasi-related. But the Wonderbolts are my specialty. Yeah, I'm pretty knowledgable about all that other stuff. But if it flies, it's fast and it's awesome, then I'm the subject-matter expert!

"Aha!" Indigo said. "So this is your great expert, Mr. Cash. I'm honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Rainbow Dash. Your reputation precedes you."

"Thanks!" she said. "And it's Dash, just Dash."

"And I am Indigo," he said. "I've brought in something I wish to sell to Mr. Cash, and he has asked your help in determining its historic and monetary value. If you are half as versed in the Wonderbolts as Mr. Cash says you are, then I shouldn't have to explain anything about this item before you begin your evaluation."

"Ooh, a challenge!" Dash said. "All right then, try me."

They both looked at Cash. He looked at Dash, motioned to the flight suit on the counter and said, "Well, Dash, have at it."

The rainbow-maned pony walked up to Indigo's suit and started to look closely at it. She started at the hood and worked her way back as she scrutinized every patch, rip and tear on the suit. She spent more than a few minutes looking over the autograph alone. Finally, she finished and looked at Indigo.

"How in Cloudsdale did you get Silver Streak's flight suit?" She asked with stunned curiosity.

"My father gave it to me," Indigo explained. "It was given to him by his brother, the Wonderbolt himself."

"Silver Streak was your uncle?!" Dash asked excitedly. Her eyes went wide and she said. "Oh my gosh, that's so cool!"

"Um, Dash?" Cash interrupted her moment of jubilation. "You're here as an expert, not a fan."

"Right," she said as she composed herself. "Got it."

Indigo turned to Cash and said, "You were right. She does seem to know her stuff."

"That's why she's my expert," Cash said. "I figured Dash would know who it belonged to when she saw the autograph. I couldn't make it out, myself."

"Well, I do know pretty much all of their autographs forwards and backwards," Dash said. "Most of them aren't known for signing their names all that clearly. But I didn't need to see the autograph to know this was Silver Streak's flight suit."

"Oh?" Indigo asked. "Why is that?"

"Well," she said as she pointed with one hoof to the striped trim around the suit, "the trim here pretty much gave it away. Both of these two stripes look gray, but that's just because the suit is old and faded. When this suit was new, these stripes were silver and white, which was the trademark pattern worn only by Silver Streak. The style of the suit is also dated, I mean way dated. This wouldn't be connected somehow to the Eighth Wonderbolt Grand Prix, would it?"

"It is," Indigo said. "You are looking at the suit he wore then."

"I knew it!" Dash exclaimed. "I'm on fire today! That was a big year for the Grand Prix, when Silver Streak set the record time that went unbroken for, like, ten years! Cash, you've gotta buy this suit from him! Fans and collectors will go crazy for this thing!"

"Fans maybe, like you, Dash?" he asked. "How much would you pay for this?"

"Weellll," she said as she shifted her attitude from excitement to nonchalance, "I myself wouldn't be too interested, only because I know I'll earn my own suit someday. But if you find the right pony for it, this suit could probably sell for about seven or eight hundred bits."

"Seven or eight hundred?" Indigo asked. "That is a much lower estimate than I expected. Why so low, Dash?"

"Listen, Indigo," Dash said, "as cool as this suit is - and believe me, it's way cool - all of its value is in its history. Pegasi would love to see this thing just to be reminded of the awesomeness of a true Wonderbolt champion. But the fact is it's just an old suit with an autograph on it. Nopony will ever wear it and it's going to take up space just to show off the autograph. If you really, really need the money that bad, then I won't stop you from selling it to my friend Cash here. But if it were me in your position right now, I'd maybe think twice about letting this treasure go someplace where only one pony would enjoy it."

Indigo let Dash's words sink in for a moment, then he said, "I see. Your words have revealed a truth that I failed to acknowledge."

"Sorry if I took the wind out of your wings, Indigo," she said.

"Quite alright," he replied. "You speak with wisdom beyond your years, Dash. Thank you for coming here and sharing your thoughts on my uncle's legacy. I think one day you will become a Wonderbolt as great as he."

"Gee, thanks!" Dash said excitedly as she flapped her wings and lifted off the floor again. "And now, if you ponies will excuse me, I've got some clouds to chase. See ya, Cash!"

"Thanks for coming in, Dash!" He called, but the blur had already rocketed out of the store and left more scattered papers in its wake. He turned to Indigo, who still had a serious look on his face, and asked, "You probably don't even want me to make you an offer, do you?"

"I'm afraid not," he said. "I cannot sell this to you in good conscience. The memory of my uncle is embedded too deep within the stitches of this suit for me to part with it like this." He pulled the flight suit off of the counter and placed it back into his saddlebag. "I am sorry I wasted your time. It was foalish of me to even consider putting a price on this."

"Well hey, for what it's worth, I'm glad you brought it in," Cash said. "Maybe there's a museum or historical society that would love to have this if you ever consider donating it."

"Perhaps," Indigo said. "I will see. Thank you for your time, Mr. Cash."

"No problem," he said as he extended his hoof to shake Indigo's. "You take..."

But Indigo was gone, disappeared as quickly and silently as he arrived.

"...care now."

Dash was absolutely right, Cash admitted on-camera. There are things to be collected and there are things to be shared, and that suit deserves to be out there for ponies to see and be inspired by. I'm just glad she came by to help Indigo realize what his uncle's legacy is really worth.

As the day went on, items big and small were bought and sold. Everything that changed hooves at the shop needed the right forms filled out with it, and during the lunch hour lull in customer traffic was when the staff caught up on their paperwork.

Cash took this opportunity to inventory the big kitchen mixer Pinkie Pie sold him. This meant that he had to carry the monstrosity on his back into the office nook area. He noticed, as his hooves shuffled and his back strained under the weight of the solid porcelain and metal, that Old Money, Big Hoss and Derpy were also in the office. They all appeared to be too preoccupied with either playing cards or doing paperwork to notice his struggle to keep his balance or his spine intact.

"Ahem," Cash grunted, which caught the others' attention. "Oh, it's okay...everypony...don't you all...get up at once."

"Fine, we won't," Old Money grumbled, then went back to playing cards.

Cash rolled his eyes, then looked at the two ponies who were actually working and asked, "Seriously, guys...a hoof here?"

The two got up to help Cash get the mixer off his back. Hoss lifted it from the bottom using his forelegs while Derpy flew above them and helped steady it as they set it down on Cash's desk.

"Whew!" Cash said as he sat down, wiped his brow and arched his back. It made an audible pop and Cash exhaled in relief. He looked at Old Money and said, "At least some ponies are actually working around here!"

"I was here today before any of y'all, so don't even start," the old stallion said without even looking up from his cards.

"So, Pop," Hoss said, motioning to the mixer. "What is this thing?"

"Hoofmatic mixer," Cash said as he pulled an inventory tag out of his desk and began filling it out with a quill in his mouth. "Pinkie Pie sold it to me this morning," he said between clenched teeth as he wrote.

"Oh, that loopy pony was in here again?" Hoss asked.

"Yeah, she can be quite..." Cash said, then he stopped and dropped the quill out of his mouth. He looked at Hoss and asked, "'Again?' What do you mean, 'again?'"

"Well, she was here a few days ago," Hoss said. "Remember that set of jade porcelain bowls we just got?"

"Yeah?"

"She sold me those."

"She sold you those?" Cash asked. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, positive," Hoss said. "She gave a great price on them."

"Oh, wow, you too?" Derpy cut in unexpectedly.

The two earth ponies turned to the pegasus, who now looked sheepish for saying anything. Defensively, she flapped her wings and floated just above them.

"Derpy," Cash asked as he looked up at her, "you bought something from Pinkie, too? You've only been working here a couple weeks. What were you even doing making purchases by yourself?" He looked at Hoss and asked, "Did you know about this?" Hoss shook his head.

"Well, you know," Derpy reasoned, "it was Pinkie Pie. It's not like anypony ever had a reason not to trust her."

"Derpy," Cash asked, "what did you buy from her and when did you buy it?"

"A silver cake platter and serving set," Derpy answered. "Last week."

This is what I was afraid of, Cash said on-camera as he confessed one of his biggest business fears. Every so often a pony comes into a pawn shop to sell something of his. Then he does it again a few days later. And again a few days after that. It becomes a weird pattern, and most of the time a broker isn't smart enough to catch on to what's happenning until it's too late. That's when he's left with an inventory full of stolen merchandise and the cops kicking down his door. And that absolutely destroys a pawn shop's business. I never would have expected Pinkie to be capable of doing this, but that's what all the signs are pointing to now. And now, I have to do damage control.

"Okay, first things first, the silver and the bowls," Cash said. "Are they still in the shop? Did anypony sell them?"

"Dad, of course they're still here," Hoss said. "Nothing leaves the shop without getting checked out first."

"Right," Cash said. "Okay then, next step, let's talk to the other brokers and get a message to the night guy about Pinkie. She's been coming in every few days now, so if she does come back..."

His orders were interrupted by a hard, grating sound coming from the front of the store. The sound, which was like metal scraping against wood, kept starting and stopping but seemed to get closer to the office nook. Hoss took one look in the direction of the noise, then turned back to Cash.

"Um, Dad," Hoss whispered. "I don't think we'll have to wait that long."

Cash walked to the counter and found the source of the commotion: Pinkie Pie was back, and this time she was pushing a large cubic object bigger than her across the entire length of the store. Cash could see her head pressed against the object and the look of sheer determination on her face every time she pushed the thing closer to his counter. He shook his head, and he knew what had to be done.

"Pinkie!" Cash yelled over the scraping. "Hey, Pinkie Pie!"

The scraping stopped, and Pinkie looked to to see Cash as she caught her breath. "Hey, Cash," she said between breaths. "Long time...no see..."

"Pinkie?"

"Yah-huh?"

"Is that an oven?"

"Yah-huh."

"Are you here to sell that oven?"

"Yah-huh."

"Pinkie," Cash said, his voice becoming more serious, "did you push that oven here all the way from Sugarcube Corner?"

"Uh," Pinkie said, her voice becoming quieter. "Um, yes?"

"Now, Pinkie," Cash said as he slowly walked from behind the counter toward the pink pony. "I need you to tell me the truth. Does this oven - or did the mixer, bowls or silver you sold us - belong to you or not?"

Pinkie's head started to hang low, as if she wanted to disappear. "Well," she struggled to get out the words, "I, um..."

Cash laid one hoof on her shoulder and said, "Come with me, Pinkie. Let's talk about this." Pinkie's lip trembled and she nodded, then the two walked behind the counters and toward the back room.

Just then, Big Hoss looked right at the camera and said, "Hey, you." He gave the camera a "come here" motion, and it came right up to Hoss. For a moment Hoss was out of the frame and mumbling something to an unseen pony, until he clearly said, "follow them, go, go." The camera then left Hoss's view, went toward the back room and floated down the hall. It came upon Cash and Pinkie in the middle of a conversation and stayed to capture the rest of the moment.

"I was going to get it all back!" Pinkie said.

"What do you mean, 'get it all back,' Pinkie?" Cash asked. "When you sell us something, I mark up its price. Then it goes on the floor for anypony to buy. How in the world were you going to get all the money it would have cost to buy back everything you sold me?"

Pinkie didn't look at Cash. Her shimmering eyes were full of tears as she stared down at the floor in front of her. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she said, her voice trembling. "I only meant to take the little things, just the little things I thought I could get back." She blinked, and two glistening teardrops trickled down her face. "But the little things, they started turning into bigger things," she said in a tiny, broken voice. "I couldn't stop..."

"But you have to stop," Cash said. "Little things or not, you stole them from the Cakes' business. That's their livelihood, it's how they take care of themselves and their foals. And now I have stolen merchandise in my shop, which means my business could get shut down. The Cakes have always trusted you, but you went and betrayed their trust. And you betrayed my trust, too. Trust isn't something you can buy back, Pinkie."

"I know, I know!" She cried, letting all of her tears and remorse pour out of her. "I'm so sorry, Cash, I really am!"

"I know you are, Pinkie," Cash said as he put a hoof on the bawling pony's shoulder again, then brought her closer in for a hug as she kept crying. After a few minutes he said, "You need to tell Cup and Carrot about everything. They have to hear how sorry you are, too. Do they know their stuff has been missing?"

"N-no, I *sniff* d-don't think so," she said.

"Okay then," Cash said. "Look, if you want me to, we'll both go to Sugarcube Corner and I'll help you make peace with them about this. Would that help, maybe?"

"Y-yah-huh," Pinkie said, trying to compose herself. "T-they're catering a lunch t-today, they'll be back this afternoon."

"Good, I'll be there," Cash said. "I Pinkie promise."

Pinkie looked at Cash with damp eyes, smiled a little and said, "C-cross your heart, hope to fly?"

"Stick a cupcake in my eye," Cash said as he put a hoof over his left eye. By now Pinkie smiled a little bigger and she had dried her eyes. Cash looked a little closer into those eyes and said, "You're a good pony, Pinkie. A little hard to comprehend sometimes, but still a good pony. How in Equestria did you even get into this mess?"

"Hmm," Pinkie thought aloud for a moment, then said, "I guess it all started a couple weeks back when I was foalsitting at the Cakes'. I wanted to practice and show the foals my favorite new party game: musical badminton."

"Uh...musical badminton?"

"Yeah, it's super fun," she said as her mood brightened again. "It combines the unpredictability of musical chairs with the outdoor competitive spirit of lawn sports! Only I couldn't use the lawn because it was raining then, so I had the net and the chairs and everything set up in the living room and I practiced playing against myself."

"Why in the world did you do that?"

"Because it was raining, Cashie, I just said that!"

"No, I got that, but you were playing against," Cash started to repeat her, but stopped. He said, "Never mind. So what happened next?"

"So I had the music going and I was zipping from side-to-side," she explained. "I must have been playing for fifteen minutes straight keeping the...the thing...in the air. Oh, what's that thing called?"

"The birdie? The shuttlecock?"

"Yes, that thing! So at one point I hit it a little too hard, so I dove for it and," she abruptly stopped telling her story. Then she asked, "You know those collectable Maretese Falcons?"

"Huh? Maretese Falcons?" Cash asked. "I know about them. I have one for sale in the shop."

"Oh good, you still have it!" Pinkie said, relieved. "I need to buy it to replace the Cakes' falcon!"

Cash's eyes went wide as he asked, "The Cakes had a Maretese Falcon? Did you break it?"

"I didn't mean to! It was an accident!" She said, "See, I hit it too hard, and then I dove for it but it was too late!"

"Dove for what, the shuttlecock?"

"No, the birdie!"

"The badminton birdie?"

"No, the Maretese birdie!" Pinkie exclaimed in exasperation. "Come on, Cashie, try and keep up!"

"I'm trying, but I can't quite put together what happened as you're telling it."

"Okay then," Pinkie said slowly, "let me tell you like I'm telling a kindergartener: I hit the badminton birdie too hard, which hit the Maretese birdie on the shelf. It fell off and I tried to catch it, but it hit the floor and broke into many teeny-tiny-itsy-bitsy pieces. Got it?"

"Huh. Well if you just said it like...wait a minute." Cash paused, then continued, "Those statues are really heavy and a badminton birdie barely weighs anything. How did it manage to knock the falcon over?"

"Regulation musical badminton birdies are heavier than plain badminton birdies," she explained simply.

Cash stood silently for a moment, then said, "Pinkie, one of these days I'm going to have to ask you to plan a party for me, just so I can figure you out a little better."

"You should! That'll be so much fun!" Pinkie exclaimed. Then she remembered why they were talking and said, "After that I looked all over for a falcon to replace it. The one in your shop is the only other falcon in town, but I didn't have enough money for it! Then one thing led to another and...oh, Cash, what am I going to do?"

"Don't worry, Pinkie, I said I'd help you out," Cash said, "In the meantime, we better do something about the giant hole in their kitchen where the oven used to be."

Pinkie gasped. "Omigosh, the oven!" she exclaimed. "And they'll be back really, really soon! Okay, I'll go take care of that and I'll see you later on today. Remember, Cashie, Pinkie promise!"

"Whoa, hold on," Cash said, "that thing must weigh a ton, you sure you don't..."

His question was cut off by a pink blur that left a small dust cloud behind where she stood.

"...need some help?"

Cash walked back out into the shop and expected to see and hear Pinkie pushing the giant oven back the way she came. But both she and the oven were gone.

"Hey guys," Cash called to Hoss, Derpy and Old Money, "did any of you see how she got it out of here?"

"How who got what out of here?" Hoss asked.

"Pinkie and the oven," Cash said. "You guys must have heard her lug the thing out."

Hoss shrugged and said, "Sorry, pops. I saw and heard nothing. Thought she was with you the whole time."

"What the...how could you...she was right..." Cash tried to find the words, but instead he groaned and gave up. "Hoss, get the paperwork for those things together. Derpy, get the bowls and silver out of the inventory. Dad, I need you to take our Maretese Falcon off the shelf and start a layaway on it. I'm going to get our wagon from out back." Cash turned to walk out of the store, then turned around and yelled, "And when I come back in with it, will somepony please help me load up that big buckin' mixer?!"

In about fifteen minutes Cash had the store's wagon loaded with the mixer, bowls and silver, and was on his way to Sugarcube Corner. While he was out, an aquamarine unicorn with a harp cutie mark browsed along the glass counters in the store. Big Hoss walked up to the counter she was looking at and greeted her.

"Hey there," Hoss said, "is there anything I can help you with today?"

The unicorn looked up at Hoss. "Oh, hi!" she said. "Actually, I'm just looking around at all this neat stuff you..." she stopped at one point and her eyes went a little wider. She pointed at the case with one hoof and asked, "Wow, what are those?"

Hoss looked down at what she was pointing at. "What, those?" he asked. "Second shelf?"

"Yes, yes, what are they?"

Hoss smiled a little as he slid the rear glass panel aside and pulled out the item the unicorn asked about. He talked about why he was smiling in an on-camera interview:

How does my dad knows everything about everything in this store? He's an egghead: he's constantly reading so he's up to speed on this stuff. How do I know everything about everything in this store? My dad the egghead is constantly telling me everything he's learned in those books of his. And now, finally, is looks like all that yakity yakking might pay off for this item.

"These beauties here," Hoss said as he laid out two long pieces of chain-mail on the counter, "are griffin gauntlets."

"Griffin...gauntlets?" the unicorn said, now more curious than ever. "You mean, like, gloves?"

"Well, not exactly," Hoss said. "Gauntlets like this were actually part of an armor worn by the griffins hundreds of years ago. This particular pair, I believe, was found in the highlands north of Canterlot, close to the Griffin Kingdoms."

"Oh, wow," the customer said as she admired the gauntlets. "The metal has so many loops in it."

"Yep, that's the chain-mail," Hoss continued. "A griffin smith would have worked himself to the bone shaping, linking and fusing all of that metal together. Look at all the work that must have went into these gauntlets; the smith who made these also probably had to make the rest of the armor for the griffin from head to tail, all tailored to fit the individual warrior."

"Incredible," the unicorn said, captivated by Hoss's story. "These came from a warrior?"

"Well, that's what we're pretty sure of," he said. "We had these authenticated by an expert from Canterlot. They're definitely from the time period, but whether or not they came from an actual warrior we can't say one hundred percent. The biggest reason for that is the condition these gauntlets are in: they're both in one piece. Believe it or not, when archaeologists find griffin armor in the field, the gauntlets are the hardest pieces to locate."

"Really?" the unicorn asked. "Why's that?"

"Simple, really," Hoss said. "They were always the pieces that got tore up the most. Think about it: the griffin's primary weapon is its claws. The talons came out of the gauntlets here," he said, pointing at the holes in the tips of the digits, "and the chain-mail protects the rest of the claw all the way up to its torso. When these guys fought, they were all like this and this with their talons." Hoss sat and leaned back, then waved his forelegs to imitate slashing motions. "Then their enemies would fight back and they'd shield themselves like this." He raised his forelegs up again to cover his face. "So the gauntlets were part of their offense and defense, which made them fall apart quicker than the rest of the armor. When our expert looked at these, the best theories she gave as to why they're in such good condition is that these were either a spare set or they belonged to a griffin who didn't see as much combat, like a sentry or something."

"Wow..." she said, still staring at the gauntlets. She looked up and asked Hoss, "Can I, um, touch them?"

Hoss shrugged and said, "Sure, you can touch them. They won't break or anything."

The unicorn put her hoof over the gauntlets, then stopped and asked, "This might sound a little weird, but, is it okay if I put them on? I promise I won't run off with them."

"I'd tackle you to the floor before you had the chance," Hoss said. She gave him a surprised and slightly scared look. Hoss realized what he said and recovered. "I mean, uh, go ahead, knock yourself out."

The unicorn went ahead and slipped one hoof into the gauntlet sleeves, then slipped on the other. She lifted them up and allowed the sleeves to slip as far back as they would go. They looked like baggy metal socks around her forelegs. Surprised at the weight of the gauntlets, she sat back on her hind legs to keep her balance as she admired them.

"Whoa," she said. "Heavy..."

"They do look good on you," Hoss remarked.

She smiled and waved her forelegs around as she admired how the hundreds of tiny metal links shimmered and made noises like satchels of coins being shook about. Then she took a closer look at the ends of her hooves. The gauntlets' digits, intended to be filled with slender talons, lay empty and folded flat upon her hooves. Her smile faded a little and she lifted one of her eyebrows as if she were contemplating something. Looking on the counter between her and Hoss, she saw a quill and reached for it.

The metal clattered on the countertop as she put the gauntlet on top of the quill and tried to pick it up. She lifted her hoof, but the quill stayed. The unicorn tried scooping it up, but it just slid away from her.

"Um, miss?" Hoss asked as she attempted again and again to maneuver the gauntlets. "Everything okay with those?"

She stopped, then looked again at her flat hooves with the useless metal digits on top of them. Frowning in dejection, she said, "Well, I guess so. They're just...not what I was hoping for." She put her hooves down on the counter and shook them out of the gauntlets, then looked at Hoss and said, "Thanks for showing them to me."

"No problem," Hoss said as he put them back into the display case. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No," the unicorn said as she looked at her bare hooves and sighed. "I don't think so."

"Okay then," Hoss said. "Well, feel free to keep looking around and let us know if you need anything else."

"Mhmm, thanks," she said as she walked off.

Okay, so I didn't make the sale, Big Hoss admitted on-camera. But this just goes to show that if you know what it is you're selling, the more interested they'll be in it. If I didn't tell her about all that warrior history and junk about the gauntlets she probably wouldn't have been interested in them enough to put them on. I still don't know about the thing she was doing with the quill, but I doubt she had a set of centuries-old griffin armor at home that was missing the gauntlets. I mean, why else would a pony want what's basically a metal pair of gloves?

Later that afternoon, the crew was in the office nook again; Old Money with his cards, and Hoss and Derpy doing paperwork. Cash trotted in through the front door and walked behind the counter into the office area. Hoss looked up from his paperwork and saw Cash had a small white box balanced on his back.

"Whoa there, boss," he called to Cash, "that looks mighty heavy. You sure you got that alright?"

"Ha ha, very funny," Cash said with a smirk. "Yeah, sure, why don't you come give me a hoof with these cupcakes?"

"Cupcakes?" Hoss asked.

"Cupcakes!" Derpy exclaimed as she abandoned the paperwork.

"Somepony say cupcakes?" Old Money said, getting up from his cards.

Derpy flew over Cash, grabbed the box, put it on Cash's desk and opened the box. Within seconds the three hungry ponies each had a pink-frosted cupcake in their hooves.

Cash looked at them chowing down on the sweet treats and said to himself, "It figures. Ask them for help and nopony moves, but say cupcakes and the whole swarm descends." He sat down at his desk and helped himself to a cupcake.

"So," Hoss mumbled as he gulped the last of his cupcake down, "I'm guessing these came from Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie didn't sell you these, too, did she?"

"No, no," Cash said as he took his first bite. "Cup and Carrot gave me these after Pinkie and I explained her...issue to them."

"How did that go?" Hoss asked.

"Pretty well, I think, considering Pinkie basically confessed to stealing and selling off their property. They didn't even know anything went missing until we talked to them about it. And yeah, they were pretty upset with her about it at first. But we all agreed that Pinkie had made a mistake and she shouldn't be fired."

"I'd fire any one of you if you stole from me," Old Money grumbled as he finished his cupcake. "And that's all I'd do if you were lucky."

"Good to know, gramps," Hoss said. Then he asked Cash, "So what're they doing with her?"

"They're docking her pay for awhile to cover the balance on everything she sold us, and to make layaway payments on the falcon statue," Cash said. "Pinkie gave me all she could spare and the Cakes took the rest out of her wages. Other than that, I'm not sure what else they'll do, but I know she'll keep her job."

"So what does the statue have to do with Pinkie, son?" Old Money asked.

"Basically, this whole mess happened because she accidentally broke one that belonged to the Cakes and she needed the money to replace it," Cash explained as he finished his cupcake.

"She better make good on those payments," Old Money said. "That's a real high-bit item of ours."

"I'm sure she will, Dad," Cash said as he picked up another cupcake. "They're all good ponies over there, you know, even Pinkie. She works hard and busts her flank for them, and the Cakes know that. If fact, Pinkie was the one who was most upset about the whole thing. At least they didn't lose any productivity over there because of this."

"They would have if we bought that stove she brought here," Hoss said. "Speaking of, is that back over there now?"

"Yep, I saw it where it was supposed to be in the kitchen," Cash said. "Don't even ask how Pinkie took care of that so fast."

"And all the stuff she sold us, it's back over there, too?"

"Yep, I showed the Cakes the invoices and we checked everything off. Everything's accounted for."

"Good. That settles that," Hoss said as he went back to his paperwork. He slid one piece of paper aside with his hoof, then glanced at the paper under it. He furrowed his eyebrows, took a closer look at it, then said, "Whoa, wait a second here." He turned to Derpy and asked, "Hey, what's this?"

"Um, what's what?" she asked.

"Yeah, what's what?" Cash echoed.

"Derpy, was the silver the only thing you bought from Pinkie?"

"Umm," she thought aloud. A moment of realization flashed across her face and she said, "Oh wait! Hold on, guys, be right back!" She flew off toward the back room.

"Hoss, what's going on?" Cash asked. "I thought we had this taken care of."

"Me too, but this must've got lost in the paperwork," Hoss explained as he looked closer at the paper. "It's an invoice from last week. Apparently Pinkie also sold Derpy a baker's hat, apron and whisk."

"What?"

"Ta-da!" Derpy exclaimed as she returned, floating in midair wearing the hat and apron, and holding the whisk aloft like a mighty sword. "Check out my Night Mare Night costume! It's so much better than my costume last year."

Cash shook his head and said, "Derpy, you have to take that back to the Cakes. Bring the invoice."

"Aww," she said as she floated back to the floor and started putting everything together.

Hoss looked at Cash and asked, "You think they'll understand?"

"Understand who, Pinkie or Derpy?" Cash asked back. "Even on good days, I can't figure either one of them out."

"Hey, you know what?" Derpy asked. "This gives me such a good idea! Tomorrow morning, I'm bringing home-baked muffins!"

Cash sighed, then said under his breath, "Well, hopefully they'll be better than her coffee..."

Comments

[halo003qd]

lol Lyra

[Inferno demon Dash]

HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH....HAHAHAHAHAHAHA....WHY, PINKIE, WWHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYY!!!!!! I seriously do not understand how she does it.....anyway, perfect chapter, had me laughing my flank off, damn, I'm having a great day, hoping to see more of this amazing story soon, maybe Trixie or somepony, ya know, one of the villians.

[Tygerburningbright]

Why Mr.Money do you not realize that DERPY! IS! THE! GREATEST! MUFFIN! MAKER! EVER!

[garfan]

I don't really buy Pinkie Pie stealing for herself. I figured she was upgrading without permission and maybe to kitchen tools the Cakes didn't need.

[TimidWolf]

805586 Things started getting interesting for me as I wrote Episode 2. The whole Pinkie debacle was actually the very first idea that came into my head as I started putting the series together. I'll admit that the inspiration for it wasn't all mine: I had seen the Epic Cupcake Time and Epic Pie Time cartoons about a month back, so that sort of got the wheels turning. So it wasn't a totally original idea. I tried to make it my own and show a side of Pinkie that might, just might, be capable of such a deed while at the same time keeping her conscience intact. Like I said earlier, I'm not afraid to bend canon a little for the sake of telling a good story and this was no exception. I'm busy writing up Episode 3 right now, which I can guarantee will have a lighter tone than E2. Thanks for the comments!