//------------------------------// // 281. High Noon Nonsense - Part 2 // Story: Blaze the Pony Tale // by Wolven5 //------------------------------// The Saguaro Bloom hotel was a cozy place to relax, but for two earth ponies bigger than average in the same room, it was a tad awkward. Honestly, the way Trouble Shoes had to sit on the bed in his hotel room (which wasn't designed for a pony his size) it made him look even more like a giant. Big Mac sat on a chair by the window while Trouble Shoes broke out some Cactus Water and HBLT sandwiches, which Big Mac gratefully accepted. Taking a slow guzzle of the Cactus Water really hit the spot, having missed the taste of something a little stronger than even his family's hard Apple Cider. "Glad t' hear lil' Bloom and her friends `r doin' well," Trouble Shoes grunted as he kept shifting his big bottom on the bed, trying to get comfortable without hitting the ceiling fan (which he'd already done but thankfully hadn't broken it... yet). "Wish Ah could say th' same for wha's been goin' on around here." After letting out a belch, Big Mac asked, "So why'd ya get tossed out onto yer keister earlier?" "Things been happenin' `round San Clydesdale, partner," Trouble Shoes started off, "wagon accidents, private property gettin' messed up, even some thievin' goin' on! Th' general store got broken into an' some o' th' goods inside were nabbed. A farmer's windmill got busted up that he almost couldn' fix it, and a runaway wagon damn-near crushed a colt an' a closer look showed th' break on it'd been sab-o-tawj'd. "And at every spot where them bad things happened, th' local sheriff, a pegasus named Dust Devil, he's found some clue tha' says Buffalo Bull and his Travelin' Wild West Show troupe are s'posedly responsible!" "Buffalo Bull? Ah met one o' his performers headin' fer th' train station on muh way here," Big Mac brought up. "Yup, since Buffalo Bull an' his troupe `r gettin' blamed, some o' th' locals have been harrassin'em," Trouble Shoes explained, "some poor hombre got beaten up only yesterday an' th' sheriff didn' arrest nopony, jus' broke it up an' told them t' go home. Buffalo Bull swears on his impendin' marriage tha' he an' his troupe ain't done wrong an' Dust Devil has warned Bull tha' he an' his troupe better not leave town until this whole thing is over an' done with. "Ah guess th' guy you met had enough an' jus' wanted to get away from it. Ah can understand tha' but it might make Bull look even badder than everypony is thinkin' he is." Mac gave what Trouble Shoes had just said a thought and realized he was right. If Bull and his troupe weren't supposed to skip town, one of his performers quitting and hightailing it outta there would certainly make things look bad when Bull and his troupe were being investigated. But if Bull and his troupe weren't responsible - And Big Mac was certain they weren't - then what was with these alleged clues being found at the scenes of the crimes implicating them? Although he spent a lot of time outside, every now and then Big Mac enjoyed a good book himself, one of his favorite series about an earth pony marshal who wandered here and there to catch the bad guys and even solve mysteries. The idea of living such an adventure brought a subtle thrill to Big Mac that his worries about handling this problem suddenly didn't seem so daunting. "Say Trouble Shoes, ya think you could introduce me t' Buffalo Bull and his troupe?" asked Mac. "Mah pleasure, partner, c'mon," Trouble Shoes got up, being careful not to bump into Mac or the furniture of the hotel room, he ducked his head down and grunted as he shimmied his considerable stature through the doorway until... "Oh, typical.... Mac? Uh, a lil' help please?" Big Mac stifled a chuckle, "No problem, haystack." But instead of being gentle, Big Mac gave that big brown rump one of his trade-mark Apple-Bucking skills, sending Trouble Shoes "YAUGHOWWW!!"ing out the door and "OW! AUGH! BUCK, BUCK, BUCKIN' COCK, BUCK!!!" down the stairs. A few minutes later... “Sorry `bout that, haystack,,” Big Mac chuckled weakly. “Don' know mah own strength.” Trouble Shoes grumbled, as the hotel owner told Trouble Shoes to hold an icepack over a nasty bump on the poor guy's head. Before long, the two headed out and down the road a bit until they came to a small circle of wagons, all make up and prop wagons. Big Mac was impressed, seeing a couple rodeo clowns practicing their juggling and somersaulting, a mare with her lasso, pulling off some amazing tricks, a stallion wearing a band on his head with an eagle feather as he held a bow with an arrow at the ready, aimed at a haybale with a target on it, and released his shot, the arrow making a perfect bull's eye, and several other acts going on. “Ah must say, this is mighty impressive,” the Apple Farmer commented. Trouble Shoes nodded as he moved towards a large wagon and knocked on the door with the word 'Dominus' on it. “Whuzzat mean?” Big Mac asked. “It means 'Troupe Leader' in some fancyschmancy language ah haven't th' time for,” Trouble Shoes huffed. “Now, do ya wanna start asking some of them there questions?” Looks like I have no choice here, Big Mac thought. He followed Trouble Shoes in and he was greeted by the sight of an older stallion with a light tan coat, dull orange mane and mustache, and a ten gallon hat, sitting at a desk, looking at the damage reports, looking tuckered and morose. His cutie-mark was a pair of metal bull horns. “Excuse me, Bull, but some help has arrived,” Trouble Shoes informed. “Be with you in a minute,” Buffalo Bull replied with a dreary voice, “Trouble Shoes, get t' practice with th' other clowns." “Sure thing, hoss,” Trouble Shoes said and turned to leave but paused as he gave Mac a hopeful look, and the red stallion nodded as Trouble Shoes left. After a few moments looking over the paperwork he had, Bull turned and faced Big Mac. “Ah actually sent for some guards to help, but you'll do." “Can Ah ask one thing before ya gimmme th' facts?” Big Mac asked. “Certainly,” Bull said. “Ah got nothin' t' hide. Keeping skeletons hidden don' bode well.” “True,” Big Mac agrred before clearing his throat. “But may Ah ask....Wha's goin' on `tween you an' th' sheriff in this town? Ah got th' impression from Trouble Shoes that he holds a grudge against you.” “Well, it was years ago,” Bull said with a sigh as he remembered, “we'd jus' set up fer a show in Horseshoe Bay. Tha' day, it was powerful windy with pounding rain an' storms thunderin' louder than a front row seat to a percussion band. It was a dress rehearsal, like wha's going on t'day. Dust Devil was an aerial acrobat an' loved pullin' some crazy stunts.” “Ah see,” Big Mac had an idea of where this was going. Bull nodded and continued, “Well, at th' time he was practicin' fer a new trick that involved fire. But durin' a freak gust o' wind blew some burning coals onto him mid-flight! Oh... Ah can still remember how bad th' burns looked, like it only happened yesterday. We rushed Dust Devil t' a doctor an' he got Dust patched up. But... he had bad news. Dust's wing got burned in a place that frazzed his nerves some. He'd still be able t' fly, but the doc made it clear tha' Dust Devil's career as an aerial acrobat was over. "Ah had t' explain t' Dust wha' the doc told me, but he refused to listen, wanted t' get right back to practice after his burns healed up." “Ah guessin' tha' didn' turn out well either," Big Mac supposed. “No it did not..." Buffalo Bull held his head up with a hoof, "Ah tried t' convince him to try fer somethin' new but he jus' wouldn' listen t' reason. Finally, Ah had no choice - Ah dismissed Dust from mah show, an' told him t' go home. He's held it against me an' th' troupe ever since." “Ya think tha' has anythang t' do wit' wha's goin' on around here?" asked Big Mac. "Ah wish Ah could say otherwise, but yeah," Bull sighed sadly. "Ah had no idea Dust lived here in San Clydesdale when we arrived o'er a week ago. But only a couple days after, things started takin' a turn fer th;' worst. "Every time somethin' goes wrong in San Clydesdale, Sheriff Dust Devil finds some evidence tha' says me or mah troupe members are responsible! Th' townsfolk believe it an' they're makin' it harder on mah performers. We cain't just leave or we'll look even more guilty that we already do. Ah hav' t' prove our innocence or this'll hang o'er our heads for maybe th' rest of our lives." Buffalo Bull's words made perfect sense to Big Mac, and as he digested all that Bull had just told him, he began to consider how he was going to connect the dots to reveal the incriminating picture. "Bull, ya can't feel bad about how things went with Dust Devil," Big Mac said, "because sometimes bad things happen fer no good reason no matter how hard we look fer a reason why. Ya had t' let `im go or he'd have hurt himself even worse. Now whether Dust Devil believes it or not, ya did right right by him and ya did th' right thing. But yer not responsible fer his choices, an' Ah'm here t' make sure yer not held responsible fer things you an yer troupe din't do." The older stallion gave Mac a look of hesitant appreciation so Mac kept going, "Whatever's goin' on around here, Ah'm gonna help ya." "Yer a good'un , Macintosh Apple," Buffalo Bull held out his hoof, and Big Mac took it, and they shared a strong hoofshake when all of a sudden there was some urgent knocking on Bull's wagon door. "Now what...?" Buffalo Bull got up, Mac stepping aside, and Bull opened his door to see a mare looking worried, "Bull! It's th' sherrif, he wants t' see you." Buffalo Bull gave Mac another worried look but the look Mac returned assured him the red stallion had his back, and Bull sighed, "A'ight, let's go an' see th' law." They stepped out and Bull saw the members of his troupe murmuring amongst themselves with worry and he saw Dust Devil standing just outside the circle of wagons, giving the stink eye straight to Bull. He was a pegasus with a cactus green coat, a dry dirty blonde mane and sideburns, he wore a dark gray fedora, a bolo tie holding his sheriff badge, and his cutie-mark was a dust devil with pegasus wings. Taking a deep breath, Buffalo Bull approached the sheriff, and then asked, "So, wha's th' complaint o' th' day this time, sheriff? Whatever it is, neither Ah nor muh troupe have anythang t' do with it." "...Is tha' a fact, Bull?" Dust Devil narrowed his dusty brown eyes with accusing skepticism when he held something out with his wing, revealing a red clown nose, "So then this little sumpin'-sumpin' Ah found over at Miss Pepita's pumpkin patch is jus' a lil' coinky-dink, huh? Ah don' think she'll see it tha' way, poor thing, seeing as how most o' her patch has been smashed to messy bits!" Several of Bull's troupe members let out gasps of concern, both for themselves and for the mentioned Miss Pepita, but Bull kept a straight face and furrowed his brows, "Now, Dust, Ah've been nuttin' but cooperative an' Ah stand by my word tha' not me nor any member o' mah troupe has done wrong. Ah checked on all muh performers last night, nopony left their wagon fer anything but an outhouse break." "Well, seein' as how all this trouble only started when Buffalo Bull's Travellin' Wild West Show strolled into San Clydesdale," Dust Devil said snidely, "not t' mention Ah've seen things at th' sight o' each incident, like a rhinestone boot, a hat belongin' to Miss Calamity Mane o'er there, a barrel with yer logo on it, and now! A clown nose, which reminds me, Ah believe Ah saw one o' yer clowns skippin' town! "Now, Ah'm sure you'll understand if'n Ah find a clown nose smack dab at th' latest crime scene an' one o' yer clowns headed fer th' hills t' be coincidence, Buffalo Bull..." "He quit th' show, which meant Ah had no right t' keep him here, Dust Devil," Bull explained, even though he knew that wasn't going to fly, "Ah'm responsible only fer th' members o' mah troupe. Those who quit are no longer mah responsibility." "Now ain't tha' convenient?" Dust Devil raised a brow. "Sheriff, if Ah may," Big Mac stepped up, all eyes turning to him, "are you sure yer history wit' Bull ain't colorin' th' way yer looking at th' matter at hoof?" "An' who're you, boy?" Dust Devil glared at Big Mac, not caring the red earth pony was a head taller, "Some new stage hoof? If Ah was you, Ah wouldn' have nuttin' t' do with wha's goin' on around here." "Sir, yer a law pony," Big Mac reminded Devil, holding his ground, "so you gotta know about 'innocent until proven guilty'. Th' evidence you say you found might say one thing but they don' tell th' whole story. An' if you say a few props makes Bull an' his troupe guilty, then Ah gotta wonder... This about justice? Or payback? Because of how Bull had t' let you go?" Dust Devil growled, glaring into Mac's eyes as he then seethed, "Y'better watch yer step, stranger. San Clydesdale's seen better days..." The sheriff then turned around and walked off, several townsponies giving him a wide berth. That night, at Dust Devil's house, the pegasus sat, waiting. He had just broken out the poker set he got one year as a gift from an old acquaintance in Manehatten. He was now waiting for Longhorn to arrive for a game of 5 stud poker, deuces wild. “He's late,” the pegasus snorted indignantly, and some ten grating minutes later, his competition arrived in the form of a large, bulky, gray bull with long and sharp horns, wearing a black cowboy hat, which he set on a coat hanger by Dust Devil's door. Dust Devil furrowed his eyes at his guest. If he didn't know who this guy was beforehoof, he would already suspect he was the type of varmint he was charged with taking in. This was Longhorn, the no-good leader of a gang of outlaws called the Cattle Rustlers. “Sorry, got tied up dealing with another plan o' sabotage,” Longhorn said in a tone that meant he was sorry at all as he sat his meat behind down at Dust Devil's card table. “Doesn't matter,” Dust Devil sighed wearily as he joined him and the pegasus dealt out the hands for the game. As they played, Longhorn filled Dust Devil in on his next set of plans. “Sounds good,” Dust Devil considered the plan but still had to set boundaries, “But reign in yer gang. We wanna make trouble for Buffalo Bull, not you.” “I'll keep that in mind,” Longhorn responded smugly. “And so y'know," Dust Devil brought up as he drew a card, "one o' them Guardians o' Harmony's rolled int' town t'day." “WHAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTT?!” roared Longhorn, dropping his hand and the look on his face was both somewhat alarming but still amusing to the law pony, to finally see the big bad outlaw shaken. “It's true,” Dust Devil shrugged although he worked in a worried demeanor. “Which one?!” Longhorn bellowed. “Some red earth pony, goes by Big Macintosh,” Dust Devil confirmed. “HIM?!” Longhorn snorted angrily, slapping his cards down and started pacing the room. “You know him,” Dust Devil noted. “Yes! His family has been th' bane o' mah existence, an' eight times he, his sister, or his relations managed t' make me look like a fool!” Longhorn seethed. “Save th' backstory fer th' movie theatre,” Dust Devil sighed wearily. “It seems revenge runs in two sets of veins.” “Yeah, no kiddin'," Longhorn growled as he sat back down. The two continued their poker game. During round three, a figure entered the house. The figure was short, wore a large coat and a fedora style hat, with a pair of horns poking out of the brim. “Deal me in,” the figure said, removing their hat to reveal it was a goat. The goat had a female voice, ginger fur with reddish-brown marks and brows, and had an air of having control over the situation. Longhorn dealt the goat into their game and they played, with the goat winning most of the games. “Just like everything else in life,” Longhorn grumbled. “Taken by someone else,” Dust Devil added. “Whatever are you two complaining about this time?” the goat said with snide innocence. “You two have been nothing but a bunch of sour lemons since I joined.” “Because you keep on winnin'!” Dust Devil complained. She chuckled, “You should know better then to backtalk your partner." “I don' care, Cactus Spine,” Dust Devil snapped. “Plus yer always coming out lookin' mighty pretty whenever there's a crime spree!” “It's called doin' our job, honey,” she retorted. “Besides, don't you have someone you care about?” “Wha, like a mare? No, Ah don' give two shiny bits about datin'. They hinder everything ya want to achieve in life. Same thing with friends!” Dust Devil snapped bitterly. Cactus Spine chuckled with a woeful undertone and dealt out the next dealings. The last round saw her with three of a kind with a pair of aces while Longhorn had 2 pairs while Dust Devil had a garbage dealing. “Not bad, gents,” she teased. Dust Devil gave her a dirty look and headed out to the firewood bins to take his anger out on logs that needed to be chopped. Cactus Spine walked out after bidding Longhorn a good night. With another less than successful poker night over with,Longhorn growled and tromped out and started making his what back to his gang's hideout outside of town. Cactus Spine headed out and back to Bull's caravan. After telling Bull and Big Mac everything, Bull sighed, “Figures..." “So Devil's workin' with Longhorn t' frame you an' yer troupe but what does Longhorn get out of it...? Big Mac wondered before it hit him and he asked, "Wait, is there somethin' around here that he an' his gang could want?” “Our coal mining operation. In these parts, coal's th' biggest resource,” Cactus Spine confirmed, "but Ah don' think Devil's in on that. He's lookin' t' get even with Bull but he wouldn' sell out th' town by allowin' Longhorn even a pebble o' coal from our mine." Big Mac nodded, as he began seeing the picture the more the dots began to connect.