"Even my patience has its limits. I just can't leave it to you any longer. I'll do the fighting! You can just go home!"
It was after lunch by the time Snake returned to Twilight's lab-closet, a bulging backpack slung over one shoulder. He found Twilight waiting for him inside, dressed in a labcoat and blushing profusely as Killjoy draped herself around her. She separated herself from Killjoy as soon as she noticed him, and ran over with an eager grin on her face. Snake stopped her in her tracks with a glare.
"Way to kill the mood," Killyjoy mumbled sullenly. "Dick move, Dick."
"Um..." Twilight went back to her desk and came back to Snake with a brown folder. "Killjoy and I got the photos you asked for. Mostly we just pulled them off of MyStable..."
Snake opened the folder and flipped through. Inside were dozens upon dozens of photos of Principal Cinch, almost invariably in the middle of shouting or making an angry face.
"Perfect," Snake grunted.
"What about you?" asked Killjoy. "You get whatever you were after?"
"Mostly," Snake grumbled. "I couldn't convince Otacon to drop out of class and run across town with his laptop and scanner to help with this, but I did get what I needed from home."
He turned over his backpack and emptied it onto the table. Glossy magazines spilled everywhere, piling up and tumbling onto the floor. Twilight took one with a shaky hand, and blushed as she stared at the topless woman on the cover. She opened it up and started flipping through.
Killjoy let out a long whistle. "Damn, these are vintage. Good taste, Tallywhacker."
Snake frowned. "They're not mine. My dad keeps them in his closet for distracting enemy combatants on missions."
Killjoy snickered. "Sure he does."
"Yeah, he does. That's what they're for. Why else would he have them?"
"Oh gosh," said Killjoy, grinning. "You're actually serious, ain'tcha, Hard-On?"
Snake opened his mouth to respond, but Killjoy cut him off.
"Now, not that this isn't great, but what've you dumped all this seventies porno on us for?"
"You got any scissors or glue?" asked Snake, turning to Twilight.
She didn't immediately hear him, engrossed as she was in the magazine. Snake had to snap his fingers next to her ears.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure. Uh... top drawer on the desk." She waved him off and went back to reading.
Snake was already there, rifling through the drawer until he found the scissors and an old gluestick.
"Wait..." said Killjoy. "Are you suggesting we...?"
Snake tossed her the gluestick. "I'll cut the faces out of the photographs, you stick them in."
After so long standing out in the open, talking with people, and wearing plaid, it felt good to be undertaking a stealth mission again. Snake was supposed to be in class right now, and on top of that he was carrying contraband material, so it was paramount that he wasn't seen. And if he was spotted while breaking into Trenton's locker, the whole game was up.
So Snake was careful. He took his time. He employed all of his training, and crawled slowly on his stomach, inspecting every inch of Crystal Prep's hallway floors. It was the only way to ensure that nobody in the classrooms would see him. However, the hallways were long and open, and had no good hiding spots, so this time, Snake also employed lookouts.
Twilight and Killjoy kept pace behind him, walking upright like a couple of morons. But at least they would see anybody approaching before Snake would, and he could probably hide behind them, or crawl away while they distracted the witnesses.
Finally, they came to Trenton's locker, and Snake reluctantly climbed to his feet.
"Aww," said Killjoy. "Over already? Sparkle here was enjoying the view."
"There'll be time to study my stealth techniques later," said Snake. "The magazines."
Twilight opened up Snake's backpack, and fished out all of Big Boss's vintage porn. After over an hour of work, they had significantly altered hundreds of magazines, sticking Principal Cinch's face over that of every prominent model on every page. It was amazing what one could accomplish with good direction and teamwork. Although he would never admit it outwardly, Snake had never been so proud of himself as this exact moment.
Drawing Killjoy's skeleton key, Snake turned to Trenton's locker and opened it up. Inside, it was basically what he expected.
A cork pinboard on the inside of the door displayed old Soviet propaganda posters, alongside countless flyers for various charities and after-school groups and events. In the locker itself, Trenton kept the usual school supplies, along with a laptop, a pile of extra flyers for some local animal shelter, and a stack of books. Most were about feminism and gender roles, but there were also several copies of the Communist Manifesto, and one dog-eared copy of a book by someone named Ramón Gálvez Mena.
"Alright, lemme have it."
Twilight passed him the pornography, and Snake stuffed them into the locker until there was hardly space for anything else. Then, just for good measure, he threw in his water pistol as well, before closing the locker back up.
"Time?" Snake asked.
Killjoy checked her watch. "Still twenty minutes before next bell."
Snake nodded, and turned to Twilight. "Are you ready to be useful for once?"
"Yes!" she said, practically jumping on the spot.
"Good. Go to Dean Cadance, tell her that you saw contraband materials in Trenton's locker, and get her to search it. You have clout with her, don't you?"
"O-Oh..." Twilight stammered. "Well... yes... but I'm not sure I feel comfortable lying to Cadance. I mean, she's going to be my sister-in-law one day, and—"
"Whoa, really?" Killjoy's eyes widened. "You've been holding out on me, Sparkle. You didn't say Shining Armor was your big bro."
Twilight blinked. "You know him?"
"Yeah! Well, I know of him. He arrested my own brother once for public urination. He pick-pocketed Shining's cell phone on his way out of the precinct, and there were all these pictures of him and Dean Cadance on it. Lots of just Cadance alone, too. Even a couple where she was wearing clothes."
"...Do you still have it?"
"Christ, are you going to help or not?!" Snake thundered.
"Okay, I'm going!"
The students of Crystal Prep buzzed through the halls, milling about beside their lockers, while Snake and Killjoy kept watch on Trenton's locker from an empty classroom nearby. Having Killjoy around was markedly different from putting up with Twilight; she wasn't constantly touching him, or rubbing her parts up against him, or whispering directly into his ears in strange and ticklish fashion. She was an odd girl – not like other girls at all.
Finally, after an interminable amount of waiting, Twilight came down the hall, with Dean Cadance and Trenton in tow, the latter hobbling along on a pair of crutches with his knee in a brace. Someone else was with them, too, quite unexpectedly.
"Shit," Snake hissed, ducking out of sight. "What's Cinch doing here?!"
"Never mind why," said Killjoy with a devious grin. "This'll be even better."
"...Certainly hope your knee recovers in time for the Friendship Games," Cinch was saying to Trenton. "Though we needn't worry about losing to Canterlot High School under any circumstances, your presence on the field of play will guarantee an especially humiliating victory over that dreadful Celestia and her great blue strumpet of a sister."
"Principal, I'm happy to play for you and all, but I wish you wouldn't make racial remarks or slut-shame—"
"What he means to say, Principal Cinch," Cadance said, interrupting Trenton before he could invoke sex politics in casual conversation for no reason. "Is that I'm fully capable of resolving this matter myself. All due respect, what are you doing here, exactly?"
Cinch tilted her head back to literally look down her nose at Cadance. "I want you to buy me tacos later."
They came to a stop at Trenton's locker. Twilight turned to them, smiling shakily. "So... yeah, here we are. Trenton's locker. Where all those contraband materials are."
Twilight pumped her arm once for emphasis, chuckling nervously.
Cinch narrowed her eyes at Twilight. "Thank you, awkward young girl. What's your name again?"
"It's... it's Twilight Sparkle. Remember? We've spoken a few times before—"
"Yes, yes, away with you now, Spickle-Spackle. We've received an anonymous tip that there are contraband materials in this locker."
"But Principal, I was the one who—"
Cadance put her hand on Twilight's shoulder, and a look of understanding passed between them. Twilight gulped and shuffled away, joining Snake and Killjoy in their classroom. Snake silenced her with a cold glare before Twilight could start making mouth-noises at him.
"Splendid. She's gone." Cinch nodded to Cadance. "Open the locker, if you please."
Trenton awkwardly pivoted toward Principal Cinch and Dean Cadance, his crutches rattling as he tried to align himself properly. "With respect, ma'am – ma'ams – this really isn't necessary. I mean, you both know me, right? You know I wouldn't keep any contraband materials."
Cinch coughed into her hand and wiped it on Cadance's shoulder. "Dean Cadance?"
Cadance looked at her shoulder and shuddered, slumping. "The school can and will investigate any and all reports of student contraband possession, no matter how frivolous or improbable."
"But Dean Cadance, that doesn't make any sense. Why would you investigate this, of all things, and not the kid who kicked my knee in?"
"We have our reputation to consider, Trenton," Cinch snapped haughtily. "The antics you students get up to during gym class are nobody's concern but your own. Possession of contraband, however, reflects poorly upon the school, which means it reflects poorly upon me, and I will not abide anything which reflects poorly upon me. Now."
Cinch looked sternly at Cadance. "The locker, if you please."
Cadance dug into her pocket for a keyring, sighing as she did. "Coulda lived abroad in Paris. Coulda been a model. But nooooo..."
She unlatched the locker and pulled the door open, and was immediately bombarded by a tsunami of pornography – a pornogrami – that forced her and Cinch to stumble backwards. Trenton, hobbled by his injury, couldn't move out of the way in time – he was knocked onto his back and buried up to his neck in erotic material.
"What in the world...?" Cadance stooped to retrieve one of the magazines. Holding it lengthwise, she unfurled a centerfold that made her eyes widen.
"Oh. Oh my."
Cinch snatched the magazine out of her hand and shoved it into Trenton's face. "Explain yourself!"
"Uh..." Trenton squinted. "It appears to be a picture of a woman. And three men. On a bed shaped like a—"
"Why do they all have my face on them?!"
"It's not just that one, ma'am. They're all like that." Cadance sifted through the magazines covering Trenton, occasionally picking up one and flipping through its pages, trying to suppress a smirk. "The range of content here is impressive. Playguy, Playgal, AnthroGal, Animal Husbandry Monthly, Equestria Daily..."
A dark look crossed Cinch's face. "Do you mean to tell me that Trenton has been producing and stocking pornographic material, of many varieties, all edited to have my face on the participants?"
"It certainly seems that way." A snicker escaped Cadance, and she cleared her throat to hide it. "Of course, this isn't funny at all. Not funny one bit. Ma'am."
"Indeed it is not." Cinch stood to her full height and folded her arms, towering over Trenton and staring down at him like an angry colossus chiseled from a very wrinkly stone. "Well, young Trenton, it appears I was wrong about you. All along, I thought you were an upstanding, socially conscious member of the student body. Who knew that it was all a front for a pornography hoarder?"
"Okay, there's a lot about your language that I find offensive, starting with—"
"I'm not finished." Cinch laced her arms behind her back and shut her eyes. "Of course, we both know that there's only one proper course of action now."
Killjoy and Snake exchanged a look of excitement. Twilight just looked at them with a half frown.
Cinch nodded at Trenton. "I need to congratulate you."
Cadance's face blanked, and she stood up to look at Cinch.
"Beg pardon?" she and Trenton said in unison.
"Your taste is impeccable," said Cinch with an oily smile. "I must admit, you've an unconventional way of expressing your interest in me, but I can't fault the results – it's driven you to make substantial improvements upon a wide array of pornography. Why, who wouldn't want to gaze upon my angrily screaming face whilst in the throes of orgasm?"
Cadance peeked inside of the locker again. "Principal Cinch, I'm really not sure that's the appropriate response to something like this..."
"Pish-posh," said Cinch, waving away Cadance's concern. "There's certainly nothing in the Crystal Prep school charter that covers this, and I see no reason to take action against young Trenton here. But the next time you hunger for some... material... I advise you to go directly to the source."
She tried for a sexy wink, but it only made the entire left side of her face contort ghoulishly.
Snake felt his heart splash into his stomach and fling a massive tidal wave of acid upon his organs. "That bitch is gonna let him off scot-free," he hissed. "We were so close, too! We never planned for Cinch being here!"
"Wait a moment," said Killjoy, patting him on the shoulder. "It's not over. Not yet."
"I'm afraid we're not finished quite yet, Principal Cinch." Cadance emerged from Trenton's locker, a look of anger on her face. "Look what else he's been keeping in here."
She held up her hand – pinched between her thumb and index fingers, as though it were encrusted in fecal matter, was an orange-tipped, transparent squirtgun.
Cinch's face darkened again. She whirled on Trenton, pointing angrily at the squirtgun. "What is the meaning of this, Trenton?!"
"I don't know," Trenton moaned. "I can't lift my head enough to see what's going—"
"A squirtgun! A squirtgun, on my campus!" Cinch bent over to shove her face directly against Trenton's. "The school charter may not cover producing and storing pornographic depictions of faculty, but it most certainly does cover the possession of firearms and firearm-like objects! As you should well know!"
Trenton paled. "But Principal Cinch, I – none of this was me! The porn, the gun – I don't even own squirtguns! I tried to get a measure on the state ballot to ban their ownership on a federal level, for Marx's sake!"
"I don't want to hear your lame excuses," Cinch hissed, spraying Cinchy spittle all over Trenton's face. "This betrayal is beyond the pale – and after I let you parade your mongrel around, to boot! In accordance with Crystal Prep's zero-tolerance policy regarding firearms, depictions of firearms, non-functional firearm replicas, and toaster pastries bitten into the shapes of firearms, I hereby expel you from Crystal Prep, effective immediately. Get the hell off of my campus!"
She stomped away from Trenton. "Come, Cadance. I need those tacos now more than ever."
"Right away, ma'am." Cadance flung the squirtgun onto Trenton's porn-cairn, narrowing her eyes disgustedly at him. "You make me sick."
"But it wasn't me!" Trenton called after her as she chased Cinch down the hall. Tears ran down his face. "I was framed, dammit! By the same kid that broke my knee! That girl is in cahoots with him! Why won't anyone listen to me?"
Trenton lay, broken and weeping, beneath a pile of pornography. Students who passed by him refused to lend a helping hand when they noticed the squirtgun on his porn-pile. Most snorted, or gave him dirty looks. A few spat in his face.
So ended Trenton's career at Crystal Prep.
Around the corner of the classroom door, Snake and Killjoy exchanged a high five.
"Job well done, Throbbing Manhood," Killjoy crowed. "We nailed that son of a bitch like a messiah on Calvary."
"Couldn't have done it without you." Snake closed his hand around Killjoy's and shook it vigorously. "You're pretty good at this stuff. Y'know, for a girl. Could have a promising career in tactical espionage."
"Uh..." Snake felt Twilight tugging on his sleeve, and he turned to stare menacingly at her.
"What?" he snapped.
"Just... for the record, it was Macbeth that you were after, right?" She released Snake's sleeve. "How does getting Trenton expelled factor into that?"
Snake wanted to shout at her for being an absolute goddamn idiot waste of space – yet again – but when he thought about it, he could come up with no appropriate answer for her.
He looked at Killjoy, who shrugged. "I got nothin', dude."
"Hmm..." Snake leaned against the wall, his arms folded and his head tucked in thought. "Kills me to say it, but the girl's got a point. Getting Trenton kicked out of school is all well and good, but we're no closer to completing my real mission: Stopping Macbeth from obtaining Metal Gear. And with that communist ball that Trenton mentioned coming up... we're running out of time to stop him."
"...How about we just kick his ass?" Killjoy suggested.
Snake looked at her, a smile spreading across his face.
Macbeth was strutting out Crystal Prep's front door, whistling that obnoxious tune by The Cure to himself. Snake was pressed up against the wall beside the door. Macbeth missed him completely.
Tactical espionage wins the day again, he thought proudly. Then he rushed forward and shoved Macbeth down the front stairs.
Macbeth squealed as he rolled down the steps, striking the ground with a groan. Before he could say a word, Killjoy leaped out of hiding and began kicking him repeatedly in the stomach. Macbeth curled to protect himself, only for Snake to start kicking him in the kidneys from behind.
"This is what you get!" Snake snapped. "This is what you get for trying to steal Metal Gear!"
"I don't know who you are or why I'm doing this!" Killjoy shouted. "My therapist says I have anger management issues!"
"Same here!" Snake growled.
"Of all men else I have avoided thee!" Macbeth moaned, absorbing Snake's and Killjoy's blows like a well-tenderized steak. "But get thee back; my soul is too much charged with blood of thine already!"
"And stop talking like a weirdo, goddammit!" Snake shouted, punctuating it with a powerful kick to Macbeth's neck. "Say that you'll stay away from Metal Gear! Say it!"
"I-I'll stay away from Metal Gear!" Macbeth whined.
"Louder!"
"I'LL STAY AWAY FROM METAL GEAR!"
Snake finished, panting, with a final kick to Macbeth's ass. Killjoy, however, kept pummeling his stomach.
"Now say 'a dud?!'" she snapped, grinning wider with every blow. "Oh, and 'we've managed to avoid drowning!' Oh! And—"
"Killjoy." Snake folded his arms. "C'mon. Don't overdo it."
"Huh? Oh. Right." Killjoy stopped kicking, frowned, then kicked Macbeth one last time for good measure. "Ooh, right in the ascending colon."
The People's Liberation Ball went on without Trenton's funding or involvement, held inside Crystal Prep's gym. Fittingly for a Communist ball, there was no food, no furniture, and the decorations were all made from turnip-based paper. There was no DJ, and no music, and the only refreshment provided was a very large bowl of gazpacho that Mr. Granin brought, which sat untouched in the middle of the floor.
It was the greatest social outing that Snake had ever attended. Clad in his sneaking suit, with Otacon on one side, Killjoy on the other, and Twilight nowhere in sight, he watched the rest of the attendees mill around awkwardly.
With particular focus on one girl.
Metal Gear sobbed into Mr. Granin's chest. With one hand, he patted her lovingly; with another, he drank deeply from his vodka flask.
"Curse that Macbeth for standing you up," he slurred, dribbling vodka onto Metal Gear's head. "And curse Trenton for making it possible for him to hurt you! Cannot believe I was ever believing that squirtgun-having, pornography-hoarding, Cinch-fucking son of a Rockefeller."
"H-H-He said h-h-h-he'd m-m-meet me here, a-and that w-w-we'd read sonnets together, a-a-and that I was more lovely and temperate than a summer's day, a-a-and... oh, daddy!"
"There, there, beloved. Never shall you be hurt like this again. I've sent word to my old friend, Dr. Chrysalis, from OKB Zero. She runs Pavlov House for Making Education to Little Girls. Is all-girls school, in Belarus, where no boy will ever be breaking your heart. You will be starting next month."
Metal Gear sagged against her father, screaming brokenly. Granin took another swig of vodka.
"Hear that, Otacon?" Snake said, turning to his friend. "Mission accomplished."
"But was it worth it, Snake?" Otacon looked into his friend's eyes, adjusting the glasses on his face. "When the dust's settled, and the bodies are counted, what did we really lose? And what did we gain in turn?"
"Also," Killjoy muttered, squinting at Metal Gear's backside. "D'you think she's miserable enough for me to score with her? 'Cuz, I mean... that is a booty. Like, damn."
"You're both nuts. We've stopped Metal Gear from falling into the wrong hands. That's what matters."
"You're a regular philanthropist, Snake," Otacon said dryly.
"You're a regular—"
Suddenly, something purple and annoying slumped against Snake's back. He froze, his eye rapidly twitching, as Twilight moved around to his front and draped one arm around his neck. With her free hand, she lifted a flask to her lips and took a long drink, before wiping her mouth with a sleeve.
"Snaaaaake!" she whined, swaying slightly. "Look, I don't know if it's teenage hormones, or the wolbachia experiments, or this alcohol that I stole from Mister Granin for courage, or just good ol' fashioned low self-esteem, but I've been doing a lot of thinking lately..."
"Um... is she old enough to be drinking?" Otacon whispered.
"...And I think... fine... If you're more into Killjoy than me, I'll settle for a three-way!"
"Whoo, Sparkle," said Killjoy, grinning. "Look, not that I wouldn't love to, but—"
"I mean, I could!" Twilight shouted, far louder than was appropriate, before taking another sip from the flask. "I'm not that into girls, but if you want, I'd totally be up for it, if you'd just please take me now!"
Snake's boiling rage was so intense, steam looked about to come out of his ears.
"Goddamn it, HOW DO YOU NOT GET BY NOW THAT I LIKE MEN?!" Snake grabbed Twilight by the shoulders and shook her violently. "I LIKE DICKS! DICKS! How is that not obvious to you?!"
Twilight blinked, cheeks burning. "I... Really?"
"I've sucked Otacon's cock so many times, my spit could impregnate! My asshole is so wide, I could guide a Nikita missile through it! My name literally means 'erect penis'! Seriously, Killjoy picked this up within minutes of meeting me! How are you still this oblivious?"
She stared at Snake, mouth agape.
"Oh my gosh... that's incredibly hot."
Snake lunged at her, frothing at the mouth. Twilight shrieked and jumped back, dropping her flask, as Otacon and Killjoy ran in to restrain him. They were just barely able to hold him back, and Snake clawed at the air in front of him and tried to grab her.
"Let me at her! I'm going to snap her neck!"
"Snake, stop it!" Otacon shouted. "It's not worth it!"
"Yeah, calm down, Erect Penis!" Killjoy added. "Don't do anything you'll regret!"
Snake stopped struggling, and they let go. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, while Otacon put a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you calm now?"
"Yes..." Snake grunted. "Goddamnit, Otacon."
Twilight, distinctly more sober than before, stood a more respectable distance away now. She stared blankly at them, eyes darting back and forth, until Mister Granin wandered over.
"What is of happening over here?" he slurred, until his eyes lowered to the floor and zeroed in on the dropped flask. "Wait a minute... How did you kids get this?!"
Twilight immediately turned and ran, disappearing through the door and leaving Snake, Otacon, and Killjoy with Granin.
Snake groaned. "First thing tomorrow, I'm transfarring back to Shadow Moses High."