//------------------------------// // The War Council // Story: Ponk Home, Virginia // by totallynotabrony //------------------------------// “Ladies, I’m sure you understand why we’re here today.” “Pinkie, did you really have to break out the secret decoder rings we haven’t used since we were in middle school just to call this meeting?” Limestone complained. “The Pie Sisters War Council will come to order,” Maud intoned. Limestone crossed her arms.  Cross fairly well described her expression, too. Marble scribbled down notes for the meeting minutes. The four of them were in the loft of the barn, having cleared a space between old boxes, broken mining equipment, and a curiously large collection of dusty Precious Moments figurines still in their original packaging.  And in the original shipping crates, actually, as if someone had stolen them right off a truck at some point in the mid-sixties. It was not a great war room, but just having her sisters at her side buoyed Pinkie’s confidence.  They would figure this out together. The Pie Sisters - like a boss. Of course, Limestone felt exactly the opposite.  “We haven’t done this in like twelve years. Actually, I remember it.  Sour Grapes kicked dirt on Marble’s doll so we convened the council and resolved to throw rocks at Sour until she cried.  When the school called mom and dad, they grounded us all for a month and told us never to do this again.” “Throw rocks at Sour Grapes?  Is she still in town?” Pinkie asked. “No, dummy, I meant the whole paramilitary revenge planning.” “Well sure they told us not to, but are you saying you never disobeyed mom and dad again?” Pinkie said. Limestone gave her a look, but replied, “I’m just saying, this could go wrong.” “Strange how you’re the one being cautious all of a sudden,” Maud noted. Limestone hesitated, confliction on her face, and then blurted, “Look, I’m concerned about what might happen, okay?  I know you all worry about me being a junkie, and I know I should quit, but I’m worried about the broader ecosystem in the illegal narcotics trade and how many people could end up unemployed, broke, and desperate because of this.  Do you have any idea how much drug money goes around this town?” “I really shouldn’t have told you what happened to a major illicit transshipment warehouse in Miami.  But...I don’t really have a good solution to that,” Pinkie admitted. “I didn’t expect you to,” Limestone said, also lowering her tone.  “And...it doesn’t outweigh helping you.” “And if we do this right, there won’t be too many people killed,” Maud said. “What?” said Pinkie. “Yeah, Marble drafted up a plan for us,” said Limestone.  She gestured. “Show her.” Marble flipped a couple of pages and turned her notebook around.  Pinkie’s eyebrows jumped. Pinkie stood in the darkness, just past the open gates of the quarry.  They were usually locked at this time of night. In the glare of headlights, she posed and took a selfie with the Pie Family Aggregates sign in the background, and then posted the picture to Instagram. She got back in the car with Limestone.  The two of them drove through the gate and then parked the car behind the office, shutting the lights off but leaving the engine running. It didn't take more than about twenty minutes before they saw the glare of two cars arriving, slowly pulling up to the open gates.  Pinkie rolled down the window. Limestone put the car into gear and stomped on the gas pedal. Between the car shooting out from behind the building, kicking rocks over the two Kirin cars, and Pinkie hanging out the window flashing double middle fingers it should have been a lead-pipe cinch that they had the attention of Autumn Blaze and her crew. The Kirin gave chase.  Limestone kept ahead of them, winding down into the pit of the quarry, skirting ledges and sliding in the gravel turns.  Between hanging on for dear life and glancing in the mirrors at their pursuit, Pinkie found a free hand to turn on the radio. An old Emerson, Lake, and Palmer song came across the airwaves. Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends, we’re so glad you could attend, come inside, come inside! Pinkie turned it up. The pursuing cars were still behind them, attempting to close the distance but held back slightly by kicked-up dust.  Limestone swung around another corner, arriving at the large, open bottom of the pit. As they reached a certain prearranged point, there was a flash and boom of dynamite from up the slope, activated by Maud who had been watching from above.  The explosion had been carefully set, and its force tore away the last restraints on Holder's Boulder. The giant rock fell from the wall of the quarry and landed squarely atop the lead Kirin car.  Needless to say, a thirty-ton stone falling from a few hundred feet and landing atop a car didn't leave much recognizable debris. The other carload of Kirin swerved and just barely missed the boulder.  In doing so, however, they found themselves right in the path of a front loader driven by Marble.  She lit up the work lights and raised the bucket with hydraulic controls, crushing the car's passenger compartment.  Only one person made it out. Autumn Blaze, her red hair a mess, raised a handgun and fired several times, but the bullets didn't have a hope of penetrating the rock-rated steel of the equipment.  Marble chased her across the floor of the quarry with the loader. Autumn ran towards the pool of water at the lowest point of the pit, apparently thinking the heavy equipment might bog down. Sure enough, Marble stopped at the edge of the water.  Autumn kept moving, slogging through the increasingly deep pool. A faint ripple in the water was the only warning before Gummy the alligator surfaced, clamping his jaws around Autumn Blaze’s head.  She might have screamed, but it was lost as Gummy started to roll, whipping her body through the air and underwater. Marble pushed the wreckage of the second car over to a pile of gravel and covered it over.  That done, she climbed down from the loader. Limestone stopped her car and she and Pinkie got out.  Maud came down the small footpath on the wall of the quarry. The surface of the water had now gone calm.  The four of them stood there, looking at what they had wrought. There wasn’t much left.  The turkey vultures that nested in the slopes above the quarry should take care of any pieces they had missed. “Oh my gosh,” Pinkie gasped as she sat in the barn loft and read the plan in Marble’s notebook. “It might be a little bit much,” Limestone acknowledged.  “We could just shoot them, I guess, but since they’re a different race we’d have to be careful that people didn’t think it was a lynching.  We hate them because of what they want, not what they are. Important distinction.” Limestone’s sensitivity might have actually surprised Pinkie more than the plan, but she shook her head.  “How about a solution where we maybe don’t kill them?” “Such as?” Maud asked. Pinkie thought for a moment.  “I mean, they keep finding me because of social media posts.  You girls had the idea to lure them somewhere. But what if we could reverse that?” “How?  Do you even know their Instagram handle?” Limestone asked.  “It’s not just going to be ChineseBadguys69420.” “No, but...well, the Zucc owes me a favor and he probably can track that down for us.” “The Zucc!?” Limestone burst out.  “How the fuck-” Pinkie giggled at the unintended rhyme. Limestone glared at her and went on.  “So Facebook owns Instagram and some nerd who owns it all is going to help you?” “How do you know Mr. Zucchini?” Maud asked. “I hosted a party for him once.” “I should have known.” “So I guess I could reach out to him in a PM or something?” Pinkie said.  “I’m still kind of new to this surveillance-via-network thing and I don’t know the etiquette.”  She pointed to the others. “By the way, if the Pie Sisters War Council becomes a thing again, we totally need to buff up our resources.  We’ve got to fight for our right to party.” “Pinkie, I appreciate your enthusiasm,” said Maud, “but please keep such comments to this small group.  Remember what happens in this household when you bring up hip hop, and in the case of quoting the Beastie Boys, the Tribe.” “Mom and dad forbid us from convening war councils, too,” Pinkie pointed out. Marble put the finishing touches on the meeting minutes and the four of them climbed down from the barn loft. Pinkie trailed behind her sisters on the walk back to the house in the growing dusk, tapping on her phone.  It took an inordinate amount of brainpower to figure out how many y’s she was going to use in her greeting. Did Heyyy sound too needy? She had to walk to the front yard to get a decent line of sight down into the valley and the cell towers there for a data connection.  After typing out her request in a private message, she pressed send. It was up to him now. In Zucc we trust. She turned around to go back inside the house, when her phone launched into the particular ringtone that indicated an incoming message.  Huh, that was fast. Pinkie turned around again and opened the notification. It was a PM, but not from Zucc.  Pinkie didn’t recognize the username, but realized that the profile picture thumbnail was of Soft Eyes.  Frowning, she opened the message. It was two pictures, side by side.  One was of Marble, one was of Pinkie, and both had been taken at the Salt Seasoning Festival.  The two of them wore the exact same workout gear and were standing in roughly the same pose. There was really just one major difference, like a really bad newspaper game, and it was clearly circled in red.  Pinkie had a gun strapped on and Marble didn’t. Pinkie facepalmed hard enough to hurt.  How could she have forgotten that!?  Soft Eyes may not have initially realized there had been two performers, but now that he had clear evidence he might start paying attention to subtle details like the difference between the wig Marble wore and Pinkie’s real hair. Granted, Instagram was a really shitty platform for photos, so it wouldn’t be easy to collect slight details like that.  And really, it didn’t actually mean anything. Soft Eyes wouldn’t have sent it to her if he thought it was worthwhile evidence.  Pinkie could simply claim she had a stunt double. It’s not like the police were seeking Marble. Though after Marble had drawn up plans to kill two carloads of Kirin, maybe Pinkie should ensure the police didn’t try to interrogate her too much.  At least Pinkie had confidence that Marble wouldn’t talk. Still, why had Soft Eyes sent the picture?  Was he trying to tell Pinkie that she shouldn’t try any more sneaky tricks? Like that was going to happen.