• Published 12th Dec 2016
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How to Disappear Completely - shortskirtsandexplosions



Flash Sentry's world sucks. Maybe it's high time he left it.

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Unanimous

Soarin' blinked hard. Between Flash's spontaneous confession and the sudden arrival of the diamond dog delegates, the Wonderbolt appeared to be suffering the cute winged pegasus equivalent of whiplash. Nevertheless, he composed himself very quickly, and Flash watched as he hissed authoritatively at a pair of lower-ranked wingmates who were starting to levitate.

"Down! Down!" he whispered hoarsely. "We don't want to give the mutts any reason to be startled!"

Spitfire overheard Soarin's command, and if she protested she made no sign of it. The lead Wonderbolt stood protectively at the head of the group as the spear-toting canines approached the landing spot of the hot air balloon.

With brave breaths, Prince Blueblood was the first to step forward. He struck a regal pose besides the array of crates that had been ferried in by the Midnight Oil and its crew.

"Greetings, beloved diamond dogs!" He added a sly grin. "And future friends." A dainty fetlock gestured towards his alabaster chest. "I am Prince Blueblood of the House of Blue, a lifelong family of Canterlot lords, ladies, and protectorates. On behalf of the Council of Canterlot, I extend a hoof of good will and generosity."

Fancy Pants wasted little time in trotting up to join the prince's side. "Dear sirs... and possible madames... ahem... my name is Fancy Pants. On behalf of aristocratic entrepreneurs and philanthropists Equestria-wide, I thank you for welcoming us to the threshhold of your domain."

Filthy Rich spent one too many seconds fidgeting. Spitfire coughed out of the side of her muzzle, and that seemed to be enough to prompt him. The stallion stumbled forward, forcing an awkward smile that was not so much insincere as it was anxious. "Uhm... h-howdy!" He waved awkwardly, forcing Prince Blueblood to face-hoof. "My name's Filthy Rich! Owner of Barnyarn Bargains! I'm plum giddy to be here! And... uhm..." He gulped hard and gestured at the crates beside them. "We come bearing gifts! Things that y'all might take a certain keen canine liking to!"

"One step at a time, my good stallion," Fancy Pants breathed aside.

"But one step at a time, my good stallion!" Filthy Rich stammered, causing Blueblood to face-hoof again.

Rather than laugh or balk at Filthy's delivery, the canines simply stood and murmured hushedly amongst one another. Flash Sentry took the moment to study them from afar: There were several tall canines—roughly half the height of an adult human, from Flash's guesstimate. They wore the heaviest armor and they appeared to be surrounding a group of much smaller diamond dogs with grayer, shaggier fur. It didn't take long for Flash to determine that the head elders were situated in the very center. After a quiet minute of muttering and grumbling, a mid-height canine stepped forward, directly addressing Blueblood, Fancy Pants, and Filthy.

"Sssssquisssshy poniesssssss..." As soon as the lead mutt spoke, Flash struggled not to laugh and vomit all at once. He listened in as the creature attempted to speak as "civil" as possible. "Your pressssence on High Paw issss a gift that you mussssst not ssssquander. Ssssssso we will not wasssste your time with formalitiessssssss."

"Well, that's fine and dandy!" Filthy Rich said with a nod. He turned and pointed at the crates. "I think you'll find that the digging tools we provided are of most exceptional use—"

"You mussssst leave thisssss placcce at onccccce and return to sissssssssy pony townssss!" the speaker said.

The double-takes Blueblood's expedition made nearly shook the plateau off its foundation.

"I beg your pardon?!" The Prince blurted.

"Return home, did you say?" Fancy Pants lisped.

"That issss correct." The mutt nodded. "Take your preccccciousssss thingssss and return in your air wagon! Immediately!"

"Now see here..." Fancy Pants frowned.

"We just arrived!" Prince Blueblood exclaimed, his tone slightly less callous than Fancy's, but nonetheless earnest. "This whole expedition was based on an agreement that you made with us! An arrangement! To meet at this exact place and time!"

"Do you honestly expect us to take all of this back because you've changed your minds without warning us?!" Fancy Pants exclaimed.

"Gentlecolts, please," Filthy Rich spoke, pacifying his associates. He turned towards the canines. "Forgive us for our shock... but we came here under the assumption that you wished to negotiate. Now we're being told outright to turned tail and leave. Surely we deserve an explanation if nothing else."

The speaker turned back towards the group of elders. Flash observed as they drew into a deep, hairy huddle—muttering once more among themselves. In the distance—Flash saw—several sets of reflective canine eyes peeking out of countless burrows along the top surface of High Paw. There were far more diamond dogs present than could be accounted for, and he suspected that—if they truly desired—they could have overwhelmed the pony expedition in a coordinated ambush.

Nevertheless, with quiet poise, the representatives finished their council and turned once again to face the equines.

"It isssss not that we don't wissssssh for friendssssship with the poniesssss." A hairy brow furrowed. Teeth showed. "There are many of usssss here in High Paw that wissssssh to trade jewelsssss for jewelssss..."

"Then what—pray tell—is the problem, my fellow?" Fancy Pants asked.

"The council of diamond brethren isssssss not in complete agreement over the matter," the speaker said. "And the dogsssss of High Paw do not make decissssionsss unlessssss the entire group is unanimousssssss..."

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