//------------------------------//
// Honest Apple 
// Story: A Dream 
// by totallynotabrony 
//------------------------------//

	Wearing welding goggles, I bent over my work.  The TIG torch in my hoof carefully heated and joined the finest alloys of inconel, nitinol, and brightray.  They were all high nickle content metals.  I required them for a very specific purpose.
Cordoba stood as still as a statue, holding up one end of the table across her back.  I wasn’t worried about burning her, because her coat was made of the fire-retardant material.  When she was built, I figured that if she hung out with the CMC a lot, that would probably be necessary at some point.
I shifted the metal around for another angle.  The nickel alloys complicated the welding, but c’mon, it’s me we’re talking about.  I could even do it sober, if I wanted to.
I’d been drunk a lot lately.  The idea that someone had broken into the networks I’d built and gained access to at least Cordoba’s memory was bad, to understate it by a shitload.
After my network had been broken into, I knew I needed to change a few things.  I was going back to more physical rather than digital things, just like the good old days.
I’d done a thorough analysis on the corrupted data and was still at a loss to explain how the network security had been broken.  I didn’t think there was anyone out there with the skills.  Braeburn might have come close, considering the stuff he learned to remove Merry May’s personality block, but I knew he didn’t want anything to do with me.
So the mystery of the hacker on steroids remained.
Fortunately, I was quick at building what I had already termed a Hate Machine: the high-nickel alloys were going into building the deadliest slot machine that had ever been conceived.
Low-roller that I am, I took a break.  
I got up to stretch a little and studiously avoided Wachowski.  I wasn’t sure if she was finished auditing my naughty/nice list or not.  Either way, she was still here.  Specifically, squatting in my place.  I hadn’t asked her to stay.  This was highly unsatisfactory.
It wasn’t even nice to have her around to fill the empty space that not having my usual companions around had left.  I mean, Trixie was just down the street at Daring’s place, but it just wasn’t the same.
Going outside, it seemed kind of dark.  Oh right, still wearing the welding goggles.  I took them off.  Nope, still dark.  Oh right, it’s night.
Have I mentioned I’d been hammered pretty much 24/7?
The local mobile farmer’s market was at the train station.  They had some organic snacks that would probably not make my hangover worse in the morning.  I avoided the grapes.  It seemed like I had been getting a lot of those from the train recently, and I wasn’t in the business of making wine.
The next morning, I stumbled out of my place.  Rarity’s shop already seemed to be open.  That was odd, considering she was the ocean and all.
I walked in and immediately knew this was going to be a bad day.  It was fashion.
I recognized Hoity Toity and Photo Finish.  That was bad enough in itself, but when I saw three young designers, I knew shit was about to get worse.  They were having a reality TV fashion competition.  Well, maybe not TV, but you see what I mean.
Applejack was there, and that was good.  For them.
“Now you can’t go killing them,” she said, holding me back.
“Who said I was going to?”
“I know you, Valiant.”
“That’s not what I asked.  And anyway, I’m trying to be a nice guy.”
She gave me a look.  “So what would you have done?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have killed them.  That kind of defeats the purpose of making a point, doesn’t it?”  I threw a look across the room.  “Not that I didn’t want to, if I’m being perfectly honest.  Fashion.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” muttered Applejack.  “I don’t know what I’m even doing here.  Rarity asked me to come.”
I glanced at her and around the room where her meat puppets were playing the part of mannequins.  “Rarity?  How?”
“I got a letter.  Apparently so did this crowd.”  She gestured.
“Rarity’s the ocean.  How is she sending letters?” I wondered aloud.  “Seapony Express?”
I resolved to find out.  As with previous trips, I got Tin Mare to take me out to the eastern shore.  I found Rarity there, happily washing the beach and using the terminal I had installed.
“Damnit Rarity, we that computer installed so you could tell us what was going on in the world, not so you could organize fashion shows!”
I tromped over to some electrical connectors that were currently alternating back and forth.  “And we had that light switch installed so you could turn the lights on and off, not so you could throw lightswitch raves!”
“Dear, do you honestly think I would stoop to a rave?” said Rarity.
“That’s what I thought she was doing,” said a disappointed Vinyl Scratch.  She left.
“I can’t help it that my waves come in and go out at periodic intervals,” said Rarity.  “Maybe you should have put the switch somewhere else.”
“Why do you even need lights?” I asked.
“So I can read the computer screen.”
“It’s backlit!  And you don’t even have eyes!”
I turned to go, but caught sight of a boat coming closer.  It pulled up on shore and a pony got out.  He was wearing a floral shirt and a ball cap.  “How’s it going?  I’m Jimmy Buffett.”
“Son of a bitch!”  I threw my hooves up.  This day had gone from bad to worse.  Who the hell had even invited him here?
I vaguely remembered a conversation I’d had with Cordoba where his name came up.  Maybe she’d misinterpreted what we were talking about.
Cordoba-
I turned back to Jimmy to distract myself.  “What are you doing here?”
“Same thing I do wherever I go: play guitar and try local drinks.”
“Well, I’m not paying you for a concert.”
He shrugged.  “If someone does, I’ve got a portable venue on the boat.”
“A concert?” said Rarity.  “I would be happy to host.”
I left.
Tin Mare took me back to Ponyville and I went to see Twilight.  “We have a problem.”
“Which is?”
“Another human celebrity came to Equestria.  Clearly, the veil is more fragile than we’ve ever suspected.  Also, this is yet another potential target for our serial killer.”
“That sounds serious!”
“Not really.  I didn’t like Bruce Springsteen, and I like Jimmy Buffett even less.”
“Valiant, that’s not the point”
“I know.  I’m trying to be a nice guy.  That’s why I pointed out the danger Jimmy might be in.”
Twilight got up.  “Well, let’s go set up some security.  What do you have?”
“Eh...I can task a satellite,” I decided.  “And that’s a lot for somebody I don’t like, I want you to understand.”
We went over to my place.  I carefully swept the files related to the secret Twilight-doesn’t-need-to-know stuff off my desk.  There was one thing left over, though.
Twilight picked up the tape and read the label.  “What’s this?  ‘Twilight after dark?’”
Kind of a oxymoronic name, but heh, it’s Twilight.
“Yeah, I said.  “That’s another example of me being a nice guy.  I could be selling tapes of Bible giving you the pony baloney in your bed, but I don’t.  Also, that’s disgusting.”
“How did you know about the pony baloney?!” she shouted.
“Twilight, did you honestly think I didn’t have cameras in your bedroom?”
“That’s private!  You had no right!”
“You know, I kind of regret it too.  I had to see that sandwich drop crumbs all over your sheets.”
I pointed through the open door to my own bedroom.  “Do you see any crumbs?  No, because I don’t eat in bed.”
“Let’s just make with the security,” she grumbled.
I swung the satellite to point at Jimmy’s boat at the Rarityshore.  The stage was already set up and it looked like the concert would happen as the sun set.
Speaking of that, but unrelated to the current topic, Sunset had been cleared of all charges, because clearly she wasn’t the serial killer if the serial killer was still serial killing.  For some reason, however, Sunset hadn’t come home.
Maud had been cleared too.  Not needing cover anymore, she’d left my band.  I would need to find someone else.
Despite the jump in topic, Twilight must have been thinking about Sunset too.  “This place is kind of filthy, Valiant.  Haven’t you cleaned up around here?”
“I’ve been busy hunting for a serial killer who cyberattacked my daughter and framed Sunset.”  I glared at her. 
“You could have at least not knocked that bookcase over.”
I turned to where she was pointing, for some reason only just now noticing the large shelving unit in question.  I frowned and walked over to it.
The wood was pretty heavy, and solid.  It might have been the heaviest thing in the room.  I bent down to examine it.  “What the hell…?”
“What is it?” Twilight came over.
“Look: chalk marks, sweat stains, obvious bench-pressing.”  I lowered my voice.  “It’s been lifted.”
“Like...a workout?”
“Yeah.”  I stood up and glanced around.  Now that I was looking for it, I saw several other heavy things that bore obvious signs of being used as improvised freeweights.  “What the hell?  Who’s been lifting my stuff?”
The seemingly obvious answer was right in front of me, but I seriously didn’t want to go there.
“Who lifts things around here?” said Twilight.  “Bulk Biceps is the only pony I can think of.”
“Maybe.”  I already knew it wouldn’t be him, but pulled up the footage to be sure.  He hadn’t been anywhere near my place.
Of course whoever had broken in to lift was savvy enough to stay out of the camera field of view and/or subvert the network.
I was really getting tired of this hacker on steroids.
With not much I could do about it, though, Twilight suggested we go to Rarity’s and see how the fashion show was going.  
I thought that this might be a mistake.
It wasn’t.  It was hilarious.
The hopeful designers - Lily Lace, Starstreak, and Inky Rose - were basically being held hostage by Applejack’s meat puppets while they redid the clothes to Applejack’s liking.
Hoity Toity and Photo Finish were in the corner talking in low voices.  “While not as visually stimulating, I would say this show has far more suspense and tension than Coco Pommel’s debut show last week.”
In reply, Photo did that weird abrupt nod she did.
I walked over.  “Wait, what was this about Coco Pommel’s debut show?”
“Surely you knew,” said Hoity Toity, though he didn’t look sure at all.
“I mean, Rarity and I did a number on her boss and I hear I indirectly helped Coco clean up a community park.  I wasn’t exactly expecting an invitation to Coco’s debut show, but I would have thought Rarity at least would have got one even though she’s currently the ocean and couldn’t go anyway.”
Photo interrupted.  “It starts.”
I almost strangled her for cutting me off, but turned to look.  Applejack was saying, “So tell us about these here clothes.”
The unicorn mare said, “So I’m Lily Lace.  You guys, this morning, on my way here, I heard a bird singing lit-trally the most beautiful song I’d ever heard!  And I wanted to capture not so much the bird’s song exactly but more like how the wind carried the bird’s song and-”
The meat puppet that was modeling the outfit slapped her.
“-er, I wanted to make it light and colorful,” finished Lily, no trace at all of lofty inflection.
Holy shit, Applejack could fix anything, including fashion designers.
And so it went.  The pegasus named Inky Rose was kind of goth.  Applejack, just like she had knocked most of the inflection out of Lily’s voice, inserted some back into Inky’s.  As for Starstreak, she just took his tiny triangular glasses away because she said they were stupid.  And they were.
As I said, totally glad I’d gone to the show.
Afterwards, Twilight and I left the shop.  I saw a pony putting up flyers of some kind.
Pinkie appeared just then.  “What could that be?  Lost dog?  Balloons for sale?  Guitar lessons?  'Cause I found one, I need some, and yes, I am interested!”
But it was none of those things.  It was an advertisement for the Jimmy Buffett concert.
“Huh,” I said.  “I wonder who paid him.”
“I did,” said Twilight.
“Huh?”
“He said he wanted to try unique local drinks.  You once gave me a bottle of tequila that I’ve never opened, so I gave him that.  He seemed pleased.”
I sighed, which was a nice guy thing to do rather than strangling her for giving up tequila.  “Well, I’m either going to make sure he drinks it all or I get it back.  That’s my special brew and I’m not letting it off this planet.  When’s the concert?”
“Eight p.m.”
“Good, that gives me time.”
Twilight cocked her head.  “To do what?”
“You’ll see.  Come with me.”  We went back to my place.  I showed her the slot machine I’d been building.
“It’s got high-nickel alloys.  I’m going to put it in the center of Ponyville.  Nobody around here really knows what gambling is, so it’s sure to attract a crowd.  I’ve added several triggers that could identify the serial killer.  When they pull the lever, it’ll kill them.”
“This seems needlessly complicated and also has the potential to injure innocents that might be accidentally identified,” Twilight pointed out worriedly.  
She paused, looking at my schematics and material choices.  “But why did you obsessively make everything out of alloys that contain a lot of nickel?”
“So I can drop a dime on that asshole.”
She didn’t understand.  I didn’t expect her to.
I got the machine set up in the town square.  It was already drawing a crowd by the time Tin Mare gave us a lift to the concert.
The boat-based stage was ready, the curtains drawn.  A fairly substantial crowd had already formed.  
Rarity lapped gently at the shore.  I went to talk to her.  “Did you hear about Coco Pommel’s debut?”
“No.  She had one?”
“Yeah.  Seemed a little strange that you didn’t even hear about it, much less receive an invitation.”
“Coco didn’t strike me as the kind of pony to forget her friends,” said Rarity.
“I’ll check up on her when I get time,” I promised.
“The concert’s about to start,” Rarity noted.  I turned to look at the stage.
The curtain came up.  Jimmy Buffett hung there, a rope wrapped around his broken neck and his body covered in bloody ritualistic runes.
Well shit, two for two.
The crowd, obviously, wasn’t expecting that.  However, never having seen a Jimmy Buffett concert, they weren’t sure if it was part of the show or not.  I figured I might as well take advantage of that.
I leapt up on stage and pushed aside Jimmy Buffett’s mutilated body, which swung on its rope.  It was time for the regulars to take the stage.  The actual star was dead, but hey, we could still rock.
I slipped my guitar strap over my shoulders and stepped up to the microphone.  “Hey everyone, it’s Valiant and the Background Band.  With me tonight is Trixie on the drums, Guinness on the bass, and Vulcan Avenger on the keyboard.”
I took my mouth away from the microphone, pushing away Jimmy's body again, and glanced at Tin Mare, who wore her dragon paint job so she wouldn’t be recognized.
“Synthesizer hella ready,” she reported.
I turned back to the microphone.  “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”