They needed more money. The night after the whole thing with the elevator, they’d tallied up the bits they had and found their wallets wanting. Apparently, buying random junk from hardware stores and gems galore to jury-rig up homemade inventions as well as paying for drinks for disconsolate guards to fleece wasn’t financially sustainable. And so, as their main source of income, Thorax-Changeling had been selected to go back to poker and win some more bits. He’d be less obvious about it this time.
Thorax-Changeling had a bit of a hard time comprehending money. He knew perfectly well what it was and what it was for, just not why it was necessary. In short, ponies sold stuff to get money to buy other stuff. But why not just barter and trade the stuff for the other stuff directly? It was how things had worked in the Hive. (When it wasn’t, “I’m bigger than you and I want your stuff, I’ll trade you not getting your head smashed in for all of your valuables.” Which was most of the time.) But while Chrysalis-Changeling-Queen had dismissed it as one of those silly pony things, ponies were running the country using silly pony things. Maybe they were onto something.
Thorax-Unicorn-Green was Sundown Gleam again. He didn’t have a lot of time to prepare a new ponysona, so he went with the less obvious of his two players, and Sundown already had a reputation as a good player. If too many ponies with a knack for poker suddenly showed up, well, Thorax-Unicorn-Green didn’t want to know. But he had one of the telepathy anklets in case he needed to call for help or let the others know about something quickly, just in case. Sunburst-Unicorn-Orange was on the other side talking with Bon Bon-Earth-Tan about something. Locks? Whatever it was, Thorax-Unicorn-Green ignored it easily. He collected his chips and headed over to the high-stakes tables in the Artifact Vault, where-
“Hey! Sundown!”
Thorax-Unicorn-Green twitched and spun around. A vaguely familiar stallion-earth-yellow was trotting towards him, smiling broadly, happiness bubbling from him like a fountain. Panicking, Thorax-Unicorn-Green raked his mind and pulled out- “Corky?” he guessed.
“Yes, indeed!” Corky-Earth-Yellow said cheerfully. “I’ve been brushing up on my skills after your little display, and I can absolutely say that I wasn’t rusty, you were simply that good!”
“Um…” Look at him. Keep looking at him. Don’t stare. “Right! Of course I was! What did you expect? That the other players just happened to have an off day at the same time as you?”
“Them? Psht.” Corky-Earth-Yellow waved a hoof dismissively and leaned in close, lowering his voice. “Between you and me, their playing was more than a little subpar. My off days were their hot streaks. But here…” He pointed at one of the tables and grinned. “Here, we might see some action!”
“Or lose money,” Thorax-Unicorn-Green said before he could stop himself.
“But that’s all part of the fun! C’mon.” And Corky-Earth-Yellow lightly tugged Thorax-Unicorn-Green to one of the closer tables.
The high-stakes tables weren’t busy yet. Corky-Earth-Yellow took Thorax-Unicorn-Green to one of the empty ones, where a bored dealer-griffon-tiger-red falcon kept shuffling his cards over and over as he waited for players. When the two arrived, he said, “You should probably head to another table. One that has actual players, y’know?”
“Probably,” admitted Corky-Earth-Yellow, “but I’ve got a good feeling about this.” He patted the table, almost affectionately.
“I’m just following him,” said Thorax-Unicorn-Green.
The dealer-griffon-tiger-red falcon shrugged. “Your call.” He pressed the cards together, making a pristine arch that collapsed into a perfect deck.
Corky-Earth-Yellow stared at the cards, entranced, his emotions shifting to wonder. A second’s thought, then he pulled a five-bit token from his bag and flipped it over to the dealer-griffon-tiger-red falcon. “Any chance you could show us some interesting ways of shuffling while we wait?”
“More than you’d think.” The dealer-griffon-tiger-red falcon pocketed the token. “Most of these take too long to deal, but they’re fun to watch.” He cut the deck into two piles.
Ten more bits and four different shuffling techniques later (griffon claws were stupidly, stupidly dextrous), the dealer-griffon-tiger-red falcon was saying, “This next one is a stage mage’s trick, called the Yarrow shuffle, but it doesn’t actually-” when two more ponies arrived and took their seats. One was a stallion-pegasus-blue while the other-
Oh.
The other player was Glade-Earth-Orange.
Thorax-Unicorn-Green thought she looked less like she’d been force-fed a lemon than two days ago, but that was probably just him being hopeful. He did his best not to look at her. Why here? Why now? Hadn’t she been banned? No, Goumada-Unicorn-Marble had only banned her the rest of that day and the day after. This was the day after the day after. Friggety. Should he contact Sunburst-Unicorn-Orange through the anklet? But, no, he needed to say something aloud for that. How would he make it innocuous? Double friggety.
He called up Bon Bon-Earth-Tan’s lessons. Keep breathing. Don’t focus too much on anything. Ignore them and they’ll ignore you. Okay. Not bad. What were Glade-Earth-Orange’s emotions? Nothing too big. Some mild anticipation. Not like that one time, when she’d been angry since pretty much minute one. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“All right!” Corky-Earth-Yellow grinned and rubbed his hooves together. “Let’s get this game going, shall we?”
The cards were dealt, the bets were made. Once the flop was dealt (a three of clubs, a three of hearts, a jack of spades), Glade-Earth-Orange was gleeful, but her face didn’t show it. Corky-Earth-Yellow and the other player-pegasus-blue were both ambivalent. Thorax-Unicorn-Green’s hoof was… alright. Nothing special. A queen of diamonds and a two of hearts. When Glade-Earth-Orange jumped the gun and raised twenty, the other two players both folded; Glade-Earth-Orange’s disposition turned a little sour on the inside. Thorax-Unicorn-Green opened his mouth to fold-
-and stopped.
Glade-Earth-Orange had been angry because of a losing streak. Now that she had a good hoof, ponies were bowing out. So maybe, if she didn’t just win, but won more- “Raise ten,” said Thorax-Unicorn-Green. He pushed his chips in. He could spare a few losses here and there as long as he watched how much he was actually losing, right?
Glade-Earth-Orange looked at him, her face blank, but her spirits a little higher. “Call,” she said.
The turn. A two of clubs. Glade-Earth-Orange slipped a little. And still- “Raise ten,” she said.
“Call,” said Thorax-Unicorn-Green. He was already down fifty chips. But he had a good feeling about this.
The river. A two of spades. Corky-Earth-Yellow’s shock flared; Thorax-Unicorn-Green guessed he was regretting bowing out. He looked at Glade-Earth-Orange again as she checked. She’d gotten a bit more nervous, but her emotions were still high. Thorax-Unicorn-Green could bow out now or take a chance on giving her a win in the showdown. Which would be more satisfying?
“Check,” he said.
He and Glade-Earth-Orange stared at each other, with no emotion and lots of intensity. Thorax-Unicorn-Green laid his cards down. The river gave him two threes and three twos; a full house.
Glade-Earth-Orange’s joy sang as she put down two threes of her own. Four of a kind; she’d won.
As she pulled in her winnings, Thorax-Unicorn-Green tasted some smugness welling up inside her. Bad days were more tolerable when they started out well, he knew from experience. As long as he tossed her a bone every now and then, she ought to be fine.
…Sweet Queen below, what sort of emotional manipulation was this? Was he learning to be an actual changeling?
Well, as long as it worked. Thorax-Unicorn-Green picked up his next set of cards.
“That griffon,” said Starlight. “Right there. The one who looks like his dog ran away and got run over by a train that derailed after hitting the dog and was also carrying his parents who died in the crash and that’s just the good news.”
“…That is both stupidly specific and totally accurate,” muttered Gilda.
“It’s a gift.”
“Weird gift. And he is kinda cute.”
Starlight took her word for it. Her idea of a cute bird was a parakeet. Those little cheek floofs.
Starlight and Gilda were sitting at a bench across the street and down a ways from the casino, where they had a clear view of the front entrance. The guard Derpy had pointed out several days earlier was still there and looked just as disconsolate as ever. His keygem was quite visible on his ankle. Maybe even more so, but Starlight bet that was just her mind making stuff up. Based on their old notes, he was due for a shift change in a few minutes, and Gilda was going to be there to greet him. And then… that was up to Gilda. She seemed confident, and Starlight didn’t pry.
“How do you think guards… um, guard?” asked Gilda. She drummed her claws on the bench. “It’s just… standing there for hours. And you said some of them did it overnight?” She whistled. “No wonder that guy’s so downbeat. I couldn’t last five minutes in that job.”
“Me neither.”
The minute came, the guard glanced at his watch, and he walked back into the casino. More minutes ticked by.
“That is where he’s supposed to come out, right?” Gilda asked.
“Yeah,” said Starlight. But if he came out through a different way- No, wait, “There he is.” And there he was, exiting the casino; his suit jacket was unbuttoned and his headfeathers seemed to have lost all organization in the last few minutes. Yep, that was definitely a done-with-shift look. “And…” Starlight squinted and managed to pick out a slight glint down near his ankle. “Yeah, he’s still got his key with him.”
“Sweetness.” Gilda breathed onto her claws and sniffed. (How could you sniff with a beak?) Apparently satisfied with the result, she said, “Wish me luck,” and set off toward the guard.
Starlight watched, her hooves twitching. She kept her ears angled towards the pair. As the guard walked, Starlight recognized a lot of signs of fatigue: the hard way his feet hit the ground, the way he kept swerving just a little, the look in his eyes… Yeah, he needed a pick-me-up. Hopefully, Gilda was smooth.
The two griffons passed by each other, and Gilda cleared her throat. “Hey,” she said. The guard looked up at her. “I’ve seen you around and you’d be cute if you didn’t look like crap.”
Starlight facehooved.
“And I feel like crap at the moment. So let’s be crap together. Wanna get smashed? I’ll pay.”
The guard didn’t need a second to think. “Sure,” he grunted in a voice of absolute doneness.
“Pick a bar, any bar. I’m open.”
“Fine. There’s one not far from here. Follow me.”
Sadly, facehooves were non-returnable. What the heck was up with griffon culture?
Starlight trailed beneath the two lovebirds (“lovebirds” was probably too strong. Semiaffectionatepassiveaggressionbirds? Whatever) as they took to the sky. She didn’t need to lift herself; teleporting around on rooftops kept her out of sight from the ground, and whatever Gilda was saying to the guard, it was keeping him occupied enough to not look down. Their flight was slow and easy on both the wing muscles and the stalker’s magic use.
The griffons spiralled to earth at a place called the Ale Aerie, not too far from the gorge. Starlight panicked for a second — obviously it was a griffon-only place — but then two ponies walked out and she let herself breathe a little easier. Gilda and the guard went in; Starlight gave herself two minutes before she followed.
It was cleaner than she was expecting, probably because it wasn’t as full as bars usually were (it being not even noon did that). The floors were nice, smooth wood, litter was nowhere to be seen, and although the decor definitely leaned towards more griffonic sensibilities, with lots of shiny things and airborne pictures, there were enough ponies that Starlight wouldn’t stand out so long as she kept her head a little bit down.
She picked a dirty, empty table near the wall. Gilda and the guard were sitting at the bar, both with cups of beer in front of them. Starlight didn’t even need to turn her ears to make out the guard’s ranting, and she probably would’ve gotten the gist of it from his wild gestures. Either he couldn’t hold his liquor or he needed someone to rant at. Probably the latter.
“I mean,” snapped the guard, “that little- shell-cracked- stot. I don’t even get weekends off!”
“Stinks, huh?”
“She makes crap smell like the sweetest perfume!” The guard took a long drink from his cup.
“So why’re you working for her?”
The guard snorted. “Why do you think? Money. I’m trying to build up a nest egg, ha ha, and she pays well.” Another drink. Already, the cup was almost empty. “But I’ll be gone in a few weeks, max.”
“Dang. You hate the job that much?” Gilda took a drink of her own. Her cup, Starlight noticed, was more than five times as full.
“Nah, I just got enough money. Giving myself a little buffer, and then fwit.” The guard made a sort of stabbing motion with his claws. His keygem still glinted from his ankle. “Outta here, straight back to Griffonstone.” He drained the last of his cup. “You paying for refills?”
“Sure.” Gilda slapped a few bits on the bartop. “Hey. Can my friend here get another cup?”
Starlight wasn’t sure whether Gilda was just being nice or if she was just plying the guard with more and more alcohol to ensure he was as drunk as possible. Either way, she waited a few minutes for the alcohol to get into his system. He didn’t get louder, but his gestures got wilder. Targeting got to be a pain, but at one point, the guard put his gemmed claw on the bartop while gesturing fiercely at Gilda with the other. Seizing the opportunity, Starlight closed her eyes and concentrated.
Thank Celestia for alcohol, because the guard didn’t notice a thing. The gem vanished from his ankle in a blue flash and appeared on Starlight’s table in an identical one. Figuring she didn’t have a lot of time, Starlight quickly examined it. It was quartz (thank heavens), cut in a roughly hexagonal cylindrical shape. It glowed slightly in its setting on the anklet. Starlight sent a few quick pulses of magic through it. The spell was too complicated for her to memorize in a few seconds, but it was static; the wax would do just fine in capturing it. So far, so good.
She wiggled the gem out of its setting, slid it into the mold-to-be, and charged said mold. The wax nearly melted around the gem as its thaumic field loosened. Within seconds, the gem was completely enveloped and it was hard to tell there were two pieces of wax at all.
But with that ease came a problem: waiting. The thaumic field lines needed time to set, during which the guard could, at any moment, notice he was missing his key. Starlight turned her attention to the nearest clock and began counting out eleven minutes. She put one of her hooves on the table but it started beating out a drumbeat of anxiety. She bit her lip.
Gilda and the guard were still talking.
Different levels of happiness certainly existed — getting a free chocolate bar versus winning the lottery — but outside of extreme cases, it could be hard to differentiate between them. Was Glade-Earth-Orange’s vague surprise from a full house or two pair? Nevertheless, Thorax-Unicorn-Green was learning. Properly leveraging the faux-empathy of changelings, he soon realized, was an art. Every pony, every creature, had their own quirks, their own ways of expressing their emotions. After a few minutes of “reading” a pony with enough different emotions, Thorax-Unicorn-Green could semi-accurately-ish guess a pony’s hoof in poker.
And it was so manipulative that he borderline hated it.
Yes, it was for a good cause. No, it wasn’t hurting anyone. No, it wasn’t anything more sophisticated than letting Glade-Earth-Orange feel good about her cards. But he was pushing ponies to feel certain ways for his own gain without them knowing and, magic or no, that was icky. Even when Cadance-Alicorn-Pink had been young and impulsive, she had ponies’ best interests at heart when it came to her love powers. It was only the fact that he still had some bits to win that kept Thorax-Unicorn-Green at the table.
Because, apparently, emotional manipulation didn’t come cheap. He was still notching up bits, but between playing more subtly and occasionally letting Glade-Earth-Orange win big, at a much slower rate than the other days. It’d take a while to get all the bits he needed for the team. To avoid drawing suspicion, Thorax-Unicorn-Green just kept his head down and pretended to be playing conservatively.
Which, unfortunately, got him noticed by Corky-Earth-Yellow, since playing conservatively was the polar opposite of how he’d played a few days ago. When Thorax-Unicorn-Green pulled in a small pile of bits, Corky-Earth-Yellow sighed and leaned over to him. “You know, Sundown,” he said, “this is not how I thought you’d play.” His words were wrapped in disappointment, of all things.
Thorax-Unicorn-Green stalled for time. “Hmm?”
“You were so… brash that first day. You were playing like a pro. Now you’re playing like an amateur who’s just gotten the wind knocked out of his sails for the first. An extraordinarily lucky amateur, I’ll admit-”
A flash of surprise ran through Glade-Earth-Orange and made Thorax-Unicorn-Green hiccup. She didn’t react, but one of her ears whipped around towards Thorax-Unicorn-Green and Corky-Earth-Yellow.
“-but that’s still just luck. What’s gotten into you?” Corky-Earth-Yellow frowned disapprovingly, as if Thorax-Unicorn-Green had just failed a test of some kind. How were you supposed to study for tests you didn’t know were coming?
Thorax-Unicorn-Green gulped his pounding heart back down into his chest. Bon Bon-Earth-Tan’s lessons kept flitting in and out of his memory, not helping by Sunburst droning on about something in the back of his head through the anklet. Luckily, one of the lessons that stayed the longest was, Keep your excuses simple and vague. They’ll be hard to disprove. If somepony presses the issue, you can complain they’re arguing semantics. So what was a simple difference between then and now?
“I dunno,” he said vaguely. “I guess I’m- just nervous. I’m… going up against better players now.” On a whim, he added, “Like her. Did you see that first hoof of hers?” He pointed at Glade-Earth-Orange. She gave no outward sign that she’d heard, but her mild shock turned to smugness.
“Still…”
Before he could stop himself, Thorax-Unicorn-Green said, “Besides, even if my playstyle’s boring, I’m still doing better than you.”
Just as what he’d said hit him and he was about to apologize, Corky-Earth-Yellow smirked. “True. Very, very true.”
The next hoof was dealt. Glade-Earth-Orange was a bit happier than usual, probably from the ego-stroking. Perfect. Thorax-Unicorn-Green looked at his own pile of bits. Kinda small. Not perfect. But maybe he could afford to push himself a little, now. Glade-Earth-Orange had been appeased for the moment and any changes in his playing style, he could attribute to Corky-Earth-Yellow egging him on. Yeah.
So… Thorax-Unicorn-Green’s own cards were bad, Corky-Earth-Yellow was upset but bluffing like a pro, Glade-Earth-Orange was happy and anxious at the same time, and the last player-pegasus-blue was a mixture of bored and miffed. Time to push, and push hard.
With some restrained token-pushing, the pot was increased a solid amount. With some aggressive token-pushing, everypony else had folded before the turn. Thorax-Unicorn-Green pulled his tokens back in as Corky-Earth-Yellow chuckled. “There’s the Sundown I kinda-sorta know,” he whispered to himself.
Thorax-Unicorn-Green ignored him and turned his direction towards Glade-Earth-Orange. A bit upset, but not that quiet, boiling rage that she’d had yesterday. Good. Yes, he could afford to be a bit more aggressive now. But not too much.
Another hoof. Poker was fast becoming his groove, Thorax-Unicorn-Green decided, that thing he settled into comfortably and was good at. Maybe he could get some bits from the guards back in the Crystal Empire. He looked at his cards and, satisfied with the result, recommenced grooving.
Starlight waited for the wax to settle with sweat rolling down her muzzle one drop at a time, and yet the guard just got drunker and drunker and kept running his mouth like he was trying to win a marathon. She could probably smash a barstool over his head and he wouldn’t have noticed.
But she wasn’t going to take her chances.
“Oh, and those accusations of tribalism Goumada’s battling with?” snapped the guard. He seemed to be one of those guys that somehow only got more articulate as more alcohol was pumped into them. “Totally true.”
“Really,” Gilda said, propping her head up on her talons. Starlight suspected she wasn’t entirely faking her interest.
“Really!” The guard downed a large gulp of whiskey(!). “She doesn’t trust any griffons with the good jobs — you know, the ones that actually pay decently — and we always get the crap ones. Like staying up all night because your stupid blasted casino won’t fricking close for some goldforsaken reason. You think I’ve got it bad? At least my shift ends during the day!” Another gulp. “Some gulls, their shift starts at 8.”
Gilda tilted her head. “What’s so crappy about-”
“PM.”
“So crappy it’d clog the toilet.”
“Aaaaaand now I’m gonna lose my lunch.” The guard squinted into his cup and hiccuped. “Yep. Here comes the food train. Pardon.” He pushed away from the bar and staggered to the bathroom.
Gilda glanced at Starlight, but quickly looked away. Starlight glanced around the bar. Not many ponies or griffons were around, none of them looking interested in her or Gilda. Taking a chance, Starlight walked over and sat down next to Gilda, keeping the wax close. “How’s it going?” she whispered.
“Fabulous. We’re planning a June wedding.” Gilda took a sip of beer, then added, “But seriously, it’s going fine. I could keep him talking for hours if I needed to. He’s interesting enough for a drinking buddy. Haaaaaates Gouda Feta, which is nice. Bet if we needed someone on the inside, he’d do it for free outta spite.”
“Good.” Starlight probed the mold with her magic. “This is still setting, but it should be done soon, so keep-”
“Who’s your friend?”
Starlight twitched and spun around. The guard was back already, slightly steadier, and looking right at her. “W-well, um…”
“Hey!” said Gilda, a touch higher-pitched than usual. “That was fast!”
“Didn’t have much to eat, so didn’t have much to puke,” said the guard. “Felt worse than it was.” He poked a claw at Starlight. “So…”
“I’m just- a friend of hers,” Starlight said, struggling to keep her voice level. “Noticed her, thought I’d say hi, leaving now, sorry to bother you, bye now.” She grinned and backed away, but bumped into a table. She dropped the mold; it split into its two halves when it hit the floor, one bouncing beneath the barstools, the other sliding to a halt at the guard’s feet. And the guard’s half held the gem inside.
“I got it,” said the guard. “Here.” He picked up the mold half and held it out. He frowned when he saw the gem. “Hang on-”
“I’ll take that thanks!” Starlight half-squeaked. She grabbed the mold in her magic and pulled.
But the guard kept a firm grip on it and was dragged a few feet across the floor. He looked at his wrist. His bare wrist. He stopped resisting the mold’s pull and was in Starlight’s face in an instant, claws still wrapped around the wax. “What’re you doing with my key?” he asked in a low voice.
“Well… Um…” Starlight gulped and began pulling magic into her horn.
“Whoa, hey!” Gilda lightly rapped Starlight on the horn, dispelling her magic. “Easy, dude!” she said, shoving him away. “We’re not hurting anyone! We’re just- You want a cut?”
“What?” asked Starlight.
“What?” hissed the guard.
“Outside, now,” said Gilda.
To Starlight’s very great surprise, the guard followed them outside without a word, but with lots of suspicious and/or angry glares. They went into a back alley; Gilda muttered to Starlight, “Be ready if he tries something.” Then, more loudly, she said, “We’re giving Gouda Feta what’s coming to her.”
Silence for an uncomfortably long moment. The guard looked at his gem, rubbed it, and said, “Go on.”
Before Starlight could object, Gilda continued, “You know that mine thing she scammed a bunch of griffons out of? Me and some friends’re stealing the money back next week. Keep quiet about this — literally just that, nothing else — and you’ll get a cut. We don’t have much now, but you’ll have your money once we’re done. Promise.”
As the guard kept staring at his gem, apparently deep in thought, Starlight hissed, “Gilda, what’re you doing?”
“Knowing griffons, numbnuts,” snapped Gilda. “Gouda Feta barely pays him anything and she’s grinding him down like whoa. He’s-”
“When you’re done, I want twenty thousand bits,” said the guard, looking up. “Yes, that’s it. It’s enough to get me away early without having griffons constantly pestering me for money. Goumada doesn’t pay me enough to care, so as far as I’m concerned, she can go die in a fire.”
“Sweet,” said Gilda. “Promise you won’t say anything?”
“Oh, please,” snorted the guard. “The only reason I would is for a reward, and Goumada’s idea of a reward is a coupon for Quesadilla Shack if she’s generous, and even Quesadilla Shack’s not that good. I won’t tell anyone.” He spat in his hand and held it out to Gilda. “I swear by my own egg.”
Gilda returned the favor, “And I swear by my egg that you’ll get paid.” Then she said to Starlight, “He’s good. That’s a big swear.” Her voice didn’t have the usual sardonic cynicism Starlight was used to, so Starlight decided to believe her. Friendship, right? Even if it was friendship grown from a hatred of somebody else.
The guard wiped his claws on the ground and glanced at Starlight’s horn. “Were you copying the key somehow? It’ll get you into the main employee area, but not the security hub. I don’t have the clearance for that.” He paused, then held out the gem. “Actually, why don’t you just borrow it for the day? I’ll give you my address, you can do whatever you need with it, get it back by dinner, everyone’s happy!”
“Um. Sure. Thanks,” Starlight said, plucking the gem from his claws. Quick and easy betrayals, today only, get them while they’re hot.
“On one more condition,” said the guard. He pointed to Gilda. “You buy one last round of drinks and some cheesy fries.”
“They have cheesy fries?” gasped Gilda. “I’d’ve bought those on my own if I’d known this place had them!”
“Not just cheesy fries. The cheese itself is the fries.”
“Oh, dang…”
“I’m. Um.” Starlight coughed. “I’m gonna get this back to Bon Bon, okay, Gilda?”
“Sure, sure,” said Gilda, waving dismissively to Starlight. “I’ll get his address, you run along and do your magic pony things.”
Starlight stared after Gilda and the guard as they walked back into the bar. Sometimes, one of the best things about friendship was that you didn’t have to worry about ponies (or griffons) stabbing you in the back. Which was one heck of a thing to have to worry about, but when you were as controlling as Goumada, apparently still a thing.
She looked at the gem and the now-pointless halves of the mold. Speaking of singular hecks of things, she had one heck of a story for Bon Bon.