The Search in Winsome Falls

by Comma Typer


Boiled Sweets

The four "campers" and the brothers gathered around under an open tent—no walls, letting the breeze flow through freely, ruffling the manes of all of them and prompting Flim to place a leftover piece of timber on papers that threatened to fly out. A few more tents like this were littered about in the clearing—several ponies were either resting (they were seen eating their lunch and drinking their water) or slogging through more work (usually of the paper kind).
"We've had a good amount of campers to our kind grounds," Flim said, preserving the speed of his words, twirling his hoof around.
"And we're happy to tell that they've all been quite—"
"Content; more than content," Flim finished.
"We're glad to be serving ponies like you up during this temporary stage of our operations!"
"You know it's only going to get better when it's all done!"
The four ponies looked at each other than back at the dashing poses of the brothers.
"Uh, that's great!" Onion said—shakily. "But, we're not interested in, uh, investing in your business, sirs!" He shifted his eyes about. "That's what you're telling us, right?"
"We didn't say that explicitly," Flim spoke. "But, now that you mention it—"
"There is no reason not to," Flam said. "Flim Flam Brothers Industries—"
"A working title," Flim added.
"—is a growing business on a consistent rise. Projections by various organizations of high standard state that we are headed to dominate our respective markets two years from now—"
"And that's what they call the worst-case scenarios, folks! Worst-case! Imagine what would happen when everything works out as we planned!"
He dropped several bags of bits—those clanking and clinking of the coins unseen but surely inside.
The "campers" eyed it.
"And, we're open to investors," Flam said. "Of course, we still want to keep majority control so it seems that you won't be getting much of the profit."
"But just you wait until we skyrocket!" Flim said. And here, he pulled in a chart with a graph that was just one line going straight right up.
"You do know that businesses don't suddenly go boom overnight," Dally News said—a bored speech.
"Why, of course!" Flam said. "We have this chart here for expressive purposes—it doesn't say anything about our actual plans! But, back to the topic, shall we?" He looked at his brother.
"If you are intrigued even a little bit by the prospect, then you have the right to know what our amazing and innovative 'Winsome Resort' is all about—and not just the 'all about's' but also the nooks and crannies!"
Flam pulled in another chart that displayed a painting of what Winsome Resort ought to look like: Glass buildings with several parks, ponies all having fun by walking on the paved concrete and marvelling at the scenery (with the rainbow falls in the foreground) and swimming in the pools and eating at an open air eatery where grilled vegetables and fruits—"With all kinds of condiments that chefs Equestria-wide can offer to you in the fullest—to your heart's content!" added Flim.
"And that's only what you see in the picture," Flam said. "Planned activities and outlets of entertainment include theater, cinema, ice-skating, library, buffets—"
"—comedy, candies, sports both indoors and outdoors and even between doors!—"
"—concerts, rides, parties—"
"What more can you ask for?!" Flim ended. "There is even more! Limitless options for you to choose from—and why not try everything before you leave, because we want you to have a fully-informed opinion of the place."
"We accept all feedback!" Flam said.
"And now, what's it gonna be?" Flim asked. "You've come here expecting nothing more than a place to relax and to just enjoy the day—but, what about being able to get more bits out of this wholesome establishment? You would be helping ponies and more get fun out of their lives by flocking to a tourist destination that prides itself on an overwhelming combination of 'what-to-do's' that they end up shocking some to wait in line for a long time because others are just taking too much of their time to choose what they want to do today!"
And Flam picked up a bag of bits as if to sweeten the offer.
Isobar held up his front hooves. "That's really nice of you to let us know all that. But, we're just campers. In fact, we ought to be moving by now and—"
"And refuse a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be partners with Flim Flam Brothers Industries?" Flim retorted.
"Haven't we mentioned that we also run one of the largest resorts in Las Pegasus—formerly held by the famed Gladmane himself?" Flam said.
"Yeah, there are ponies who are willing to refuse a once-in-a-lifetime chance," Isobar said, slowly backing away from the table. "We're not the business-type, you see. I only know some fancy words here and there—and I could say the same for the rest of us. So, uh, brothers—Flim and Flam? We kindly decline the—"
"Aww, we don't to be bad sports," Flim interrupted, "but it's something that we surely don't want you to miss!"
"What if we told you that other ponies would do anything in their power to be able to secure such an honorable position—not just an investor, oh no! You can have a direct say on all the aspects of the resort—and receive a salary which, judging from your character, is quite—"
"—cool," Flam finished, "as you might say."
"So, we'd like to take you through a tour of the resort though it's as much of a tour as we could make it out to be since there's not much to be going off on to begin with."
"However, we're happy to hear your response after all of that! You could say that this is our last effort to convince you that this is what you should do, what you must do if you want to be more than just some measly old 'campers'!"
"We're fine being 'measly old campers,' thank you very much!" Wakes Week said, strutting away.
"Ah, you're quite bold for speaking against, hm, magnates in the industry."
"Well, what industry are you magnates in?!"
"A-ha, not 'what industry,'" Flim said, raising a hoof, "but you should be saying, in no uncertain terms, 'what ndustries'!"
"Our strategy is to expand, expand, expand," Flam said. "Why make yourself stuck in a box when you can, without a doubt, free youself up to any and every avenue of business? That way, you end up knowing a lot, doing a lot, and making a lot—of bits, to be precise and exact!"
"Though, hopefully, not exacting on our friends!" With a bow and removed hat, he went on: "It won't hurt to try and join the tour, courtesy of yours truly!"
"Calm down, Wakey," Isobar said, eyeing the angry mare. "Let's just do the tour."
"Splendid!" Flim yelled.
And the brothers yanked the ponies out from where they were standing.


The four ponies were led by the unicorn brothers, walking on the grassy ground. The rush of water could still be heard.
"You see that large hole they're making on the ground over there," Flim said, facing that hole.
There were numerous ponies shoveling their way down to the bottom of the hole. Lumps of dirt were slowly growing at the rim of it.
"That's the future pool—or, rather, one of the future pools that we'll be having in the resort. This one's to be our finest pool—largest in size, topped with on-pool drinks served by bartenders of the greatest sort! We not only have the local ones coming from nearby towns, but we also plan to have others with well-known names coming over from Manehattan, Canterlot, Ponyville!"
"We can't tell you any names, however," Flam added, "because the list of confirmed bartenders hasn't been finalized yet. Interviews still have to be conducted—we want only the cream of the crop catering to our ponies desperate for something exciting!"
"And, over there—" Flim pointed to one of the steel frameworks "—that's where the main building is going to be. It's going to be provocative in terms of what it can hold for it will have the rooms for you to sleep in—"
"—the buffets for you to eat in at every other floor and we're sure that will satisfy the hungers of even the stuffiest of ponies!—"
"—the theaters that will have first-rate actors and first-rate plays with no room for has-beens and what-nots, and it will also hold plays and troupes that are gaining traction within the theater world—we don't want to be just your usual resort that also has theaters for we wanna be the place where you jump to greatness starting here!"
"Don't forget, brother, that we also have bungee jumping!" Flam said. "Why, yes, dear campers, there's bungee jumping to be had when this is all complete! We plan this structure to be so high that it can support bungee jumping—no, not just support; it ought to be perfect for bungee jumping!"
"And before you ask any questions regarding how we'll handle safety, precautions, and the like, don't you worry! We have asked tons of safety experts in the field of bungee jumping, and we've followed their advice to the letter. Well, not yet, because we don't have the bungee equipment, but we will when we obtain it—it's a Flim Flam guarantee!"
And the brothers nodded.
"But, moving on!" Flam continued. "Avert your gaze toward this direction—" He pointed to the stalls being built over there on the wide field of grass "—and behold the to-be restaurants, although it isn't correct to call them 'restaurants' per se. Rather, we should just call them 'food stalls,' although even the term sounds like it's a work-in-progress, so if you have any suggestions, we're more than happy to take it."
"And, you may be asking us, 'Why have these out in the open? Why not have it inside—what if it rains?' Well, if it does rain, then we have covers that are suited for the occasion. More importantly, having out in the open encourages ponies to just talk to each other in amiable friendship! Nopony wants to be forced inside a building in order to talk to each other—but, they are free to talk to each other inside, if they want to, that is."
"To add to that—"
"I think we've had more than enough," Onion said, smiling sheepishly. "We really thank you that you want us to, uh, take part in your resort thing. But, we're running awfully late, uh, right now. So, we'll be on our way, I guess."
The two unicorn brothers looked at each other.
Onion's friends looked at each other as well. Then, they turned their gaze toward him.
Flim and Flam then huddled together and whispered, sometimes looking over their shoulders to get a glimpse of the "campers" before lowering their heads back.
"This doesn't look good," Onion said.
"Just let them be," Isobar said. "Be prepared for anything they throw at us."
And the four waited, looking on the brothers anxiously.
Then, Flim and Flam smiled and faced them again.
Flim said, "I think we've exhausted all possible means of telling you that this is a really nice opportunity for all of you—or, at the very least, one of you, but we do want all of you to enjoy working with us."
"But, if you are certain about the non-importance of what you've just seen," Flam added, "then we have no choice but to respect the decision that you've made. We know when it is time to bring the towel over and when it is a waste of our well-meaning efforts to trudge on."
"Flim Flam Brothers Industries completely understands your points of view, campers," Flim said. "Now, get that cart over there—I think that's yours—and move on."
The two brothers waved their hooves at them as the "campers" went back and pulled the cart through the clearing. They were wearing smiles as the four left.


Beyond the other side of the clearing, back to another section of the woods, the four ponies hurried along, quickening the pace of their walk—more than a brisk walk, they were jogging but not running, trotting but not galloping.
Then, after a few more turns—which were not a short distance away from each other—the four finally stopped, the unicorns breathing heavily as they sweated while the Earth pony and the pegasus wiping the sweat off of their faces. They were in the middle of another forest—trees surrounded them, and the clearing was no longer in sight though the sound of machinery could still be heard faintly.
"We got out of that one alive and well!" Isobar said. "They didn't see our bluff—or maybe that's what they want us to think!"
Dally News gasped. "You're right!" She turned to Onion. "You remember that we didn't get all the guards back in Pace."
"So, where did they—" Onion gasped. A look of terror. "No! They went back and told them all about it! They probably know everything about us!"
"Not everything," Isobar said, finally landing on the ground. "But, they know enough to identify us as the ponies who beat up those guys in the candy shop."
Onion gulped and shivered. "They were just pretending to be nice to us, weren't they?"
"That's it," Isobar said. "I don't know what they're planning to do with us. They might be sending their henchponies to close in on us at any moment."
Onion jumped and screamed.
Isobar flew and brought him back on the ground.
"We need to stay calm, collected, and cool!" Isobar spoke, choosing a harsh tone. "If we're going to be panicking all the time, thinking that all is lost, then you would've been scared the moment you heard that Flim and Flam were running something!"
Onion gulped.
Isobar placed his hooves on his friend's shoulders. "You've got to keep it together! If we're going to do anything against these guys, we've got to have rational minds! Understand?"
Onion nodded his head silently.
Isobar let go and sighed.
A few birds on branches were singing some chirped songs.
"What are we going to do, now?" Wakes Week asked. "We can't tell the Princess about it just yet because they took out the post office kiosk and the mailbox is all the way back at the clearing. We don't want to make them any more suspicious of us than they already are."
"We should first check what we have first," Dally News said. "We can't do anything without checking first what we have at our disposal."
Isobar and Wakes Week nodded.
"Uh, Onion?" Dally asked. "What's wrong?"
"Maybe we should be going just one more stretch of dirt road?" Onion anxiously suggested. "Just to, uh, make it harder for any possible pony under Flim and Flam to catch us."
"If we get too far," Isobar said, "it's going to take us a long time to get to the brothers—that would give them lots of time to leave and abandon the place, making it look like we're the ones who were fixing Winsome Falls up and taking down the trees—maybe illegally, too."
"I told you!" Onion shouted, still nervous—irises shrunken, sweat pouring, scratching his mane. "They're good at what they do, too good for our own good!"
"That's a lot of 'good's,'" Wakes Week noted.
"I know!" Onion yelled. He turned—crazily, eyes now twitching—to Dally. "What did you say again?"
"Check what we have," she replied, motioning her head toward the covered cart. "Remove the cloth. We can formulate a plan from there—see what we can do."
Isobar and Wakes Week nodded.
So did Onion—now unstable in his stand.
Dally News lifted the cover off of the cart.
"Ah!"
"Hey, who are you?! Why are you hiding there?!"
Everypony—even scaredy Onion—took on aggressive poses. Isobar stiffened his wings once again, Wakes Week balled up her forehooves into fists, and the unicorns lighted up their horns in their respective colors, all facing the pony on the top of the pile on the cart.
"Please, please, don't hurt me!" the mysterious stallion yelled, crawling away from them. "I'm not on their side—no, no, no!"
"Then, why are you sneaking around inside our cart?" Onion asked, pretending to be triumphant though still hesitant. "You must be a spy! You've overheard all of our conversations—our plans, what we're here for, who sent us here, everything we said!"
"I assure you, I'm a friend—friend!" He held up his forehooves in the air and clasped them—pleading, shooing some of the nearby birds and other woodland creatures away.
Isobar leaned closer—examining him. "Wait a minute—I recognize you!"
"Y-yes, yes, recognize me!" the stallion appealed, bobbing his head up and down in accelerated emotion. "Come on! I don't recognize you, but please! You know who I am, I hope!"
"Is he another friend of yours like Lobby Bud?" Dally asked. "Another friend we haven't heard about until weeks ago?"
"No," Isobar answered, turning his head around to face her and the rest. "He's the pony who owns the candy shop."


The yellow candy pony was laying his head against a tree's bark—trunk. Sipping a cup of orange juice, he opened his eyes wide—then, he groaned, taking the cup away from his face and resting it on the dirt. Sweat was rolling down his face; his mane was unkempt and scruffy, his clothes were dirty and stained.
"Boiled Sweets, that's the name, right?" Onion said, checking in on him by placing his head too close to the mane. "I've overheard it a few times during the kerfuffle that went on while you were—"
"Carried away by Flim and Flam's ponies? Yes," Boiled Sweet said, tired—drained. "Came by the other day. Demanded that I'm the pony that will make confections for customers in some hotel or something. Official Confectionist. Can't get even that right." He drawled a guffaw—and gone it was, returning him to a morose state. "Said 'No.' Didn't matter to them."
The rest of the ponies were now together around the story-teller.
"Told me they'd come back—I should say 'Yes' or bad things will happen. Punishment—punitive. I thought they were...bluffing—some ruffians trying to exert their 'influence.' Somehow got fancy clothes—should've taken that as a sure-fire warning that they weren't bluffing. You know the rest."
And there he lay, despondent. Eyes downward to the ground, half-open—pout.
The four ponies exchanged glances.
"Forced labor," Isobar muttered. "That's...unusual. The con ponies are usually more discreet than this."
"Today they're not, apparently," Dally answered. She adjusted her glasses magically.
Boiled Sweets held up his forehooves again. "I'd do anything if you'd just let me go—escort me back home!"
"Buddy, we can't," Onion curtly replied, trying his best to sound official about it. "As much as we want to get you to safety, we really can't. Technically, we can, but that'll require us to go through the rest of Winsome Falls, pop out into Ponyville, take the train to Fourbeat then get you back to Pace."
"But, if we can just reach Ponyville, then I-I'm safe!" Boiled Sweets insisted—though close to broken in his arranged words.
"Everything after Ponyville's the easy part," Wakes Week said, grabbing an umbrella from the cart and turning it around with her hoof. "Getting to Ponyville—about a week's time even in the best of days."
"That's also not counting the fact that we're here on a mission," Isobar added. "You know what that mission is—you've heard us."
The poor candy pony nodded, still laying his head on the tree. "Y-yes! It's good that you are under her orders and command! But—ah, it's more than inconvenient for you and I—sorry, I should've—" Then, he sighed.
The four ponies exchanged glances again.
"I don't want to be a liability to you," he went on. "My talent is making candy and selling it. What use is that for revealing the scandal going on here?"
"Distract them?" Onion said, whipping up a foolhardy grin—eyes narrowed in coolness.
The other three flashed their gaze at the ingenious pony.
"What? It's worth a shot! Send him back to Flim and Flam. Then, whatever he does will take their minds away from us!"
"Bad idea," Isobar said, raising up his wing to count the points with his pinions. "One, Flim and Flam already know that we're not just campers. Two, unless you have a clever plan to make Boiled Sweet appear from the other side of the clearance, him returning is going to raise even more suspicion—he's going to be arriving from where they've seen us gone. Three—I haven't thought of a third item, but you get what I mean."
Onion sighed. "And I thought I was on the verge of something that will break those brothers once and for all!" He covered his face with his forehooves as if in shame.
Isobar sat down on the ground and sighed.
"But, what about you swoop him up and drop him on the other side of the site?!"
"They already know I'm a pegasus. It's not far-fetched to think that."
"Can't you at least give me some credit?"
"Trying ain't enough," Isobar said, maintaining a cool head and a shrewd smirk.
"Hey, let's stop being smug and try to help the candy pony?" Wakes Week spoke up, raising her voice, looking mad at the stallions. "Not only do we have the responsibility of pulling down these mischievous brothers, but we also have Boiled Sweets's needs to take care of! And—" turning to him "—I know you wanna go home, see your family, don't you?"
"V-very much, yes, miss," Boiled Sweets said. "I know they're worried sick."
"Then, let's stop all this minor squabbling, guys!" Wakes Week told. "Let's band together and fight!"
"We still have to think of a plan, though," Dally News pointed out.
"Oh."
Then all the ponies there sat down on the ground, wearing thinking looks. Wakes Week immediately scratched her chin, humming in distress.
"Wasn't this hard enough when we had no time limit at all?" Onion whined.
"Yeah—what did you expect the Princess to do, huh?" Isobar countered. "Send us out to do the dishes and clean the plates—"
"Didn't I just tell you guys to stop squabbling?" Wakey barged in.
And the five went back to thinking.