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// Chapter 1: One Broke Mare 
// Story: One For the Bits 
// by Protector of Light 
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	So I'm broke. The name’s Minerva. I lost my job as a dress sales mare for Photo Finish awhile ago, and shortly afterwords it was found out that she was running a crooked business connected with pony trafficking, and to be honest, I’m glad that I got out of there before everypony found out about how screwed up she is. That was months ago. Now all of my savings are gone and I’m going to be kicked out of my apartment if I didn’t pay my rent in a month.
And the worst part: I have to go and tell my parents all the way out in Appaloosa and get advice on what to do next. I hate my family with a passion, yet I love them none the less. Whatever possessed them to move from Canterlot to some hick town in the middle of nowhere beats me, but at least they are out of my hair most of the time thanks to it. I’m desperate, though, since I’ve not had a square meal in weeks. So, I am on the train waiting for it to reach the small town in the middle of the dessert. I don’t know what I’m going to tell my family. They will be so disappointed in me for not telling them back three months ago when I lost my job in the first place. But whatever. I’ll figure it out when I get there.
So I get to my parent’s place and knock. I hate all of this dust around here. It’s why I haven’t come to visit since I moved. I wish there were telephones out here so I could have just called and gotten advice that way. As it is, I have to get back home with the advice to pay my bills. My grandmother opens the door. She’s an earth pony, like me, but unlike me, she was orange. Her coat clashed with my purple one. “Hey.”
She jumps a little and yells to my mother: “Margery, look! It’s Minerva! Minerva’s come to visit!” 
My pale lavender mother comes to the doorway. She’s where I got the purple, but she’s lucky enough to be light colored. Her graying hair is in a braid. “Minerva! It really is you! We didn’t get a letter that you were coming to visit.” Her Canterlot accent contrasted with the rustic surroundings. Her horn glows as she offers me a glass of water. “It’s a long journey. You must be thirsty!”
My father looks up from his paper and grumbled something. He is a white unicorn stallion who wanted nothing more from life than to be rid of his mother in law from the house so it could just be my mother and him for the rest of his life. But my mother saw it differently, so Grams got to stay.
“Hey guys. Just thought I’d come and visit. Do I have to send a letter to visit my dear family of which I love so much?”
“Well, no. But it’s more traditional, and I know that you like to be formal!” Mom says. She's wrong, but oh well. I don't really care if she doesn't really know me these days. I'm kind of doing my own thing.
Before I know it, we’re all sat down to a nice dinner and stuffing out faces. Perfect time to drop the bombshell. “So, I came to get some advice.”
“Yes? Go on.” My mother prodded.
“Well, I lost my job. I need to get another, but I’ve looked everywhere! I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any legitimate experience. Photo Finish was a scam. Now I’m broke and can’t pay my rent— not that I’m looking for charity here. Just want some advice.”
“How long ago did you lose your job?”
“Three months ago.”
“… Three months ago. And you didn’t tell us then why?”
“I was ashamed and thought I could find a job in about a week or two.”
“Alright then.” Mom sighed. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. The economy in Canterlot is terrible right now. That’s why we came out here to retire, where prices were lower on necessities." I guess that answers that question. "Now, I would tell you to move out here and get a job here, since there are some, but I know that you wouldn’t, for whatever reason, not that I’m prying.”
“Uh huh.”
“But I hear that your cousin Weasel back in Canterlot has a filing job open in his bail bonds office. He’s in town visiting my sister, his mother. Why don’t you see if you can catch him while you’re here? I don’t particularly like him, but a job’s a job.”
Ugh, Weasel. A scum of a pony with a bad affection for mares aside from his beloved wife and also creatures of non-pony nature. I even heard that he believes in humans. He and Lyra Heartstrings were always hanging out together in school, and it seems that neither of them outgrew that old pony’s tale. But, like Mom said, a job’s a job. “I’ll just have to do that.”
“Good. Glad to help.” She gave a saccharine smile. “Now then, do you remember Brayburn Apple? He’s a major figure in this town’s government. Isn’t that something?”
“Ugh. Gotta go now. Bye!” I had to get out of there before my mother tried to make marriage arrangements. That’s just the way she rolls. Every time she mentions a stallion, I know that the next thing to come out of her mouth will be a request to set up a date. Some mares just like to be on their own. She can’t get it through her head, though. So instead, I leave.

This place really is so much like a frontier town that it is freaky. I don’t know what to do with myself in a place like this. But I ask around and find Weasel in the local saloon. I sit down next to him. “I hear that you have a filing job back in Canterlot that needs done.” I say as I sit down next to him.
He looks up at me and shakes his head, not even smiling. Nobody gets along with Weasel. “Minerva. Not even a hello?”
I stare blankly at him. “Hello. What about the job?”
“It’s taken. I don’t need anybody anymore.”
“Oh. Well, do you know of anything? I’m running completely dry here. I have no money. Like, at all.”
“Well, though I don’t think that you would be any good at it, Minerva, I’m always looking for bond enforcement agents.”
“Why are you telling me if you think I would suck at it?”
“For a good laugh.”
“Very funny. So, bounty hunting, huh? What do you have in mind?”
“Really? You’re that desperate?”
“What’s so weird? I can do any job I want. Besides, my cutie mark is a magnifying glass for detective work. Maybe that could help me out, don’t you think?”
“I think that you’re insane, that’s what I think. That mark is for attention to detail and nothing more. You’re looking too deeply into the meaning and so you are missing it.”
“Do I have the job or not?”
“Hah! If you’re serious, go back to Canterlot, find my office, and talk to my secretary. She’ll give you a job. You have one chance to make it right. If you fail, you’re out.”
“I won’t fail.” I hope that I looked stern and confident when I said that.
“Sure, sure,” he said, looking back at his cider.
Well, I wouldn’t fail, that’s for sure. I always do what I say I will. 

So I had spent the rest of my travel money on a train ride back to Canterlot. Now, I was standing outside Weasel Bail Bonds agency, prepared to enter and get a file on some dumb dude who was too stupid to go to a simple court appearance to bring in. Of course, it goes without saying that I could be wrong and end up going after a murderer, but I certainly hope that this will not be the case. I can be pretty brave, but facing a man who was known to have killed five or six mares was beyond my threshold of courage.
Anyhow, I walk into the office. I see the secretary. I recognize her coat, hair and cutie mark from elementary school. “Wind Melody? What are you doing working in a place like this? You belong at the palace playing your flute to the masses, or at least doing some kind of job there. You aren’t a secretary! Just look at your cutie mark! A music note, for crying out loud, you’re a musician!”
She looks up. “Minerva? Hey, long time no see! And, you’re one to talk, miss ‘I have a detective cutie mark but I sell clothes for Photo Finish because it is more glamorous.’ What brings you here? Hopefully you don’t need to bond somebody out, do you?”
“Nah, I’m here to get a job. Weasel sent me over. He still thinks that my cutie mark is just for attention to detail or some crap like that, so he isn’t expecting much. He wasn’t there when I solved the case of the missing chalk, was he?”
“Nope. But are you finally looking for a job in almost the right position? That’s excellent!” The ice blue unicorn claps her hooves together and had a look of pure joy. “I’ve always wanted that for you.”
“I just need money.” I’m uncomfortable. “It’s nothing special. Anyway, why aren’t you following your cutie mark if you are so avid for following your destiny?”
“I hate to perform.” She looks sad now, like she was disappointing somebody. I happen to know that whom that somebody was, though not many did: Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, who she had babysat in her filly years.
“I wasn’t trying to upset you. You hate to perform? What’s your mark for then?”
“I love to comfort those in need with my music. I was working at the retirement home but they laid me off.” She is cheery again, suddenly. “So, I’ve been doing odd jobs around town until now! Your cousin was nice enough to offer me this secretary position. I’m sure that he had his own reasons, but beggars can’t be choosers.” Her mint green hair is in perfect curls, as always. I wish that I could get mine to do that. My natural curly hair brown hair is always a mess. Her green eyes are. My pink eyes coordinate with my coat, too, but they aren’t as striking. She digs through a filing cabinet. “How much money do you need out of a mark? I have ones worth all sorts of money. You get ten percent of the bond.”
“I need a lot. Either in multiple small ones or one big one. I can’t make my rent payment at this rate.”
“Excellent. I’ll give you a big one and some small ones to get you through.” She pulls out three files. “Here you go! Prices are on each file and the date that they have to be in by. If and when you catch somebody, you just take them into the police station and they will give you an invoice to bring back here to get your cash. Let’s show Weasel what you’ve got!”
I look through the files. I see a name that catches my eye: Donut Joe. His bond is one million bits. “What the heck did Joe do? He’s always seemed like a nice enough guy, so what could he have possibly done?”
“It’s not for sure that he even has done anything.” Melody looks thoughtful. “He’s accused of a threat on the Princesses, though I tend to think that there must just be some misunderstanding. But I guess that that’s for the court to work out with him. Not our job, best just to get him into the cops so that they can do theirs.”
“Alright. I guess I’m going after Donut Joe then. Was great to see you, Melody.”
“You too, Minerva.”
I walk out of the office, files in my mouth. Being an earth pony can really suck sometimes. I take the files back to my apartment. “What have I gotten myself into?” I ask myself.