It’s Saturday, and I just managed to get off work a little early, around seven in the evening. Page was here again this morning, telling me that he found a place that only needed less than two thousand bits, but it was a little farther than he wanted. Nonetheless, he liked the place and a roommate he’s got. I’m planning to train him with the crossbow, but for now, I’m assigning guards to be posted near him in case something happens. Speaking of guards, I haven’t heard from Segway in a couple days. I’m a little worried, but I don’t necessarily think he’s in trouble. Otherwise, I’m sure something would’ve happened for me to think so. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I live in a world that has coincidences as a regular occurrence. It’s a little ridiculous for how common that is. Anyway, I’m going to check up on Maple, see how he’s doing and all that.
I approach a big building with a bright purple neon sign. It reads ‘Happy Hour’. I hum to myself at the interesting name before walking in. A pony clerk sits behind a desk, with his back hooves kicked up and his front hooves holding a magazine. “A little brave to read something like that with no pants on in public,” I mention. The clerk looks up and huffs.
“It’s a tech magazine smart ass. What do you want?” He asks.
“I’m looking for a Maple Bacon? Friendly kid- I mean, guy,” I say. It’s still a little weird to think of the little Griffon, who I had seen as my nephew since he was eight, and think of him as an adult. An adult in the police force. Jesus I feel old.
“Oh yeah, nice guy. Up a couple floors, room three oh six,” he says. He gives a slight glare. “No trouble, I actually like this guy. Keeps the other tenants quiet and polite.”
“Got it, thanks,” I say, heading down a hall to some stairs. The floor’s green, with lots of torn up spots and barely visible stains. The walls are a dull yellow, striped with grey lines. The lights along the walls are old, some of them even buzz a bit. I reach the stairs, which are concrete, and head up a couple floors. I think I hear someone watching television in one room. Anyway, once I get to the third floor, I walk quickly and scan each door number. Three oh one, three oh two, three oh three... ah, three oh six. I smile and knock on the door. A moment of silence passes before Maple opens the door. He’s definitely tired, if the dark circles under his eyes mean anything. I can see his feathers are ruffled, and his head has a bump on it. “Oh god, what happened to you?” I ask. He sighs.
“Ran into a pole a couple days ago, chasing a guy. It’s almost healed up though,” he says, smiling weakly.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “Well, I wanted to check up on you. I know that Manehatten’s not really an easy place for police officers.” Maple chuckles.
“You can say that again. Ponies at the station think I’m an idiot, but the chief says I’m doing fine,” he says. “Come in! Tell me how your day was!” We walk into his apartment, and I hum in concern. There’s a small kitchen to a corner, there’s a couple beds in a small room I can see through a doorway, there’s one bathroom, and the living room that also has the kitchen. The kitchen is kind of cutoff by a counter protruding from the wall. The living room has a coffee table, which looks a bit shabby, with a bunch of stuff on it like coasters and papers. A small box television is against the wall opposite of the green, cushioned couch.
“Why’s the coffee table look...”
“I got it from Neighkea. Built it myself,” Maple says. Of course it’s IKEA. “I uh, might’ve lost the instructions.”
“Well, it’s um... standing,” I say. Maple laughs.
“It’s okay uncle, I know it looks bad,” he says. Suddenly, I hear the front door’s handle turn.
“Hey, I’m back from my errands. Line was a bitch and a half,” Page’s voice calls. I look back to see Page walking through it with a paper bag of what looks like Wendi’s. He freezes when he sees me.
“Oh Celestia, the Old Geezer followed me,” he says. I sigh.
“I’m not old,” I reply. “What’re you doing here?” Maple chuckles.
“He’s my roommate!” He says. I bLink and look at Maple slowly.
“... Really?” I ask. He nods.
“Yeah! You trust him, so why shouldn’t I?” He asks.
“How would you know I trust him?” I ask.
“You gave him your hat, right?” Maple counters. I hum.
“What if he stole it? He’s a rough looking bird, and he’s homeless. Due to how hard times are nowadays, it’d be more reasonable for you to assume he stole it,” I say. Page deadpans at me.
“I’m right here asshole,” Page says.
“Uncle, you have impeccable aim with a crossbow, you’re the best at spotting stuff, and you’re super smart. Stealing from you would be really hard,” Maple says. I snicker and gently pat his head.
“You give me too much credit kid,” I say. Page huffs and puts the paper bag down on a kitchen counter.
“Well, if you guys are finished with discussing whether or not I stole something, can I go ahead and eat my food? Kinda hungry,” he says.
“You don’t have to ask me Page, go ahead!” Maple says. Page reaches in and gets a burger and takes out another. “Oh, is that an extra one?”
“Yep,” he says. Maple stares at him as he takes it and puts it in the fridge. He takes the bag and hands it to Maple. “Here’s your food. There’s a double cheeseburger and medium fries.”
“Uh, shouldn’t we get something for Uncle Anon?” He asks, hesitantly taking the bag. Page laughs.
“Fuck no, we’re poor as shit already.” I struggle to hold in my laugh at that.
“We’re not poor Page, we have food, a roof, and stable jobs,” Maple deadpans.
“My job isn’t stable. It’s bendy as fuck. I’m paid by the entered creature,” Page says, taking a bit of his burger. Maple sighs.
“Okay, fine. We’re semi-poor, how’s that?” He asks. Page gives him a thumbs up.
“I think you two will get along great,” I say, crossing my arms. “Now, if either of you need help, you can call me.”
“Ten-four dinosaur,” Page says.
“Not a dinosaur,” I say.
“Okay Boomer,” he says.
“For fuck’s sake- I’m not a Boomer,” I say.
“How old are you?” Page asks, taking another bite.
“... Anyway, just- be safe you two. Page, you’re coming in tomorrow, but I won’t be there. I was gonna leave a note, but it’s better to tell you now before I go,” I say. “Tomorrow, I want you to come in for the first half of the day. I’ve got a sub for the evening, and you can do whatever you want, but I suggest that you try to get to know everyone around you, okay?”
“Can I fuck with the soldiers?” He asks.
“As long as you don’t hurt them,” I say.
“Nice,” he says. Maple laughs at the conversation as he gets out his food. I look at Page and drop my smile.
“However, I want to tell you something important,” I say seriously. He blinks before nodding, chewing his burger. “I’ll lay down some personal rules that aren’t in the book, and I want you to follow them from here on out. Rule one, never let anyone innocent get hurt on purpose. Rule two, never yell at someone that’s already having a hard time. Rule three, and this one’s important, always go with your gut, the rules mean jackshit in the long run.” Page sees how serious I am, slowly frowning. I can tell he’s taking me seriously. He slowly nods. “Alright. As long as you know the core rules, I’ll let you work at the Checkpoint for as long as possible. Don’t fuck it up.” With that, I smile and turn to Maple. “Thanks for letting me come in, I’ll get out of your hair now, alright?” Maple waves bye, unable to speak since his beak’s full. I chuckle and head out the door, walking back to my home. I think Whisk said she had made a special meal planned for tonight, and damn it all if I’m gonna miss her food...
Thirty minutes ago...
Page grunts as he puts another bit through the phone booth’s slot. “Right, I’ve got this,” he quietly says to himself, clearing his throat. He hears the ring of the phone, trying to get through to the other line. He feels his heart race a bit, anticipating the conversation he’s about to have.
“... Hello? Who is this?” A female asks.
“Uh, is this Ms Page’s residence?” Page asks.
“... Thin Page? Is that you? Where are you!?” She asks.
“Hold on, is that you Blank?” Thin Page asks. “Where’s Mom?”
“No, you hold on, you’ve been gone for almost half a year, without a note, and you think you can just-“ Page growls, thinking back to her last, hurtful words he heard.
“Look, I don’t care how pissed you are, I’m out of your feathers now. So, you tell Mom that I’ve got the last laugh. I’m happy, I’ve got a job, and she’s got nothing to worry about. So now, hopefully, you two will fuck off and stay away from my life.”
“Do you think this is a game!? Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in!?” Blank asks. Page gives a hollow scoff.
“I would’ve thought you assholes would appreciate less ‘dead weight’, as you so eloquently put it,” Page says irritably. A pause comes from the other end before. A sigh sounds out.
“Look, I'm sorry Page, it’s just-... I’m worried, okay? I didn’t think you’d actually leave,” Blank carefully says. However, this makes Page angrier.
“You’re sorry alright. I don’t see how that makes me want to come back though,” Page notes.
“Will you stop being such an emotional prick for five seconds?” She asks.
“Nope. I’ve been too angry for too long. In any case, I just wanted to let you guys know I didn’t fuckin’ need you or Mom. Fuck you, fuck your bullshit, and fuck off,” Page says, hanging up the phone. He takes a moment to take a deep breath, trying to calm down from the outburst. Not exactly what he had in mind, but he guesses that it works for now. With that in mind, he leaves the booth and takes a deep breath out. After a moment he face palms. “Dammit, not what I wanted to happen. Celestia damn it, why is talking to either of them so fucking hard!?” He continues cursing to himself before pulling it together. “Right, maybe I can try again later. I just need to cool off. Right, that’s it.” With that, he continues his walk to the Wendi’s across the street, being careful not to get in the way of the automobiles going by.
As he walks in, the door chimes. The cashier, a slightly taller white pegasus with pink hair perks up. “Hi! Welcome to Wendi’s!” She greets cheerfully. Thin Page grunts and looks at the menu.
“Uh... I’ll have three bacon cheeseburgers, and one medium fry,” he says. The cashier nods and inputs the order into a computer. Page looks around to see that he’s the only one inside. “Wow. Slow night, huh?”
“Yeah, we’ve been getting a bit of competition from the McDonald’s down the block,” the mare says.
“Who the hell goes to McDonalds?” Page asks. Unaffected by his language, the cashier laughs.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of the changelings’ manners.” She guesses. Page looks at her and squints.
“You know, you look familiar,” he notes.
“I get that a lot,” she replies, smiling. The door opens, and a pink unicorn with purple and light blue hair walks in.
“Ugh, I could use a break from that blockhead,” she says, tiredly.
“Welcome to Wendi’s! How can I help you?” The cashier says, handling Page his receipt.
“Hey, can I get a frosty? The heat’s killing me,” the new mare says. The cashier giggles.
“Right away! One second,” she says. She turns around and takes out a frosty from seemingly nowhere and hands it to the mare.
“Oh, hold on, I’ll get the-“ Before the mare could continue, the cashier shakes her head.
“No no, it’s on me. Consider it a gift for my niece,” she says smiling. The mare looks at the cashier suddenly.
“... Wait, are you...?” To answer her question, the cashier merely winks.
“... Weird ass ponies,” Page notes out loud.
“Oh, don’t worry, it’s a family thing,” the cashier says, giggling. Page is still confused as fuck, but shrugs it off.
“I kinda wish I had your kind of family then,” he says. “Mine’s pretty crappy.” The cashier frowns.
“Oh? How come?” She asks. Page grunts.
“Really pushy, really proud, and really stubborn,” he says. “Every time I try to talk to them, I end up getting pissed.”
“Oh really? That sounds like a phase me and my sister went through once,” the mare responds. The pink mare sits at a table and just listens to us, eating her frosty.
“Oh yeah? How did you two get through it?” Page asks.
“It took... a long time, but after a couple of fights and a bit of talking, we made up,” the cashier replies.
“Uh Huh... what if you two hadn’t?” Page asks. “What if neither of you could stop yelling?” The cashier pauses and thinks.
“... I suppose I would have just as much of a clue as I did when we started fighting. I wouldn’t know,” she replies honestly. Page sighs. “But, what I do know, is that yelling is probably necessary at some point. Being angry is okay, as long as you don’t take it out on them.” Page scoffs.
“Real helpful,” he mutters. The cashier giggles.
“Sorry, I’m not good with conflicts like my pupil,” she says. Page tilts his head.
“You used to be a teacher?” He asks. The cashier pauses before slowly nodding.
“Yes, though I wasn’t a very good one,” she admits.
“Why?” Page asks.
“It’s... complicated,” she says. Page stares at her for a second before shrugging.
“Alright.” He looks at the pink mare and notices her frosty cup’s empty. “Wow, you went through it already?” He asks in surprise. The mare in question blinks and smiles nervously, blushing a bit.
“Yeah, I’m not used to how hot it is over in Equestria.”
“Ah. Where are you from?” Page asks. The mare blinks and shifts a bit.
“Uh, the Crystal Empire,” she says.
“Really? Every Crystal Pony I’ve seen is normally sparkly as all hell,” he says.
“Oh? Do you travel a lot?” She asks.
“No, I’ve been working at the Manehatten Checkpoint. I’m a passport inspector,” Page replies. Both ponies perk up.
“Oh? Do you know Anon?” The cashier asks. Page grunts.
“Yeah, I know him. Old geezer’s weird. He came up to me out of nowhere and offers a job” Page says. The cashier’s eyes have a flash of recognition for a split second. “Apparently I’m good enough for working under him.”
“He’s certainly a complicated one,” the cashier giggles. “Oh? Looks like your food’s done! Let me get it for you.” With that, the cashier walks off as Page sighs.
“Jeez, first I find his nephew, now I find his friends. How popular is this fucker?” He asks himself.
“I- Uh, don’t really know him!” The pink mare says. “He was just someone that stamped my papers, so I-“
“There you are!” A voice booms from the entrance. Page looks over to see a royal looking guard walking in. “Who is this ruffian?! Is he troubling you?!”
“... So who’s sir chucklefuck?” Page asks. The mare stifles a laugh as the guard fumes.
“He’s uh, a guard! You see, I’m a merchant,” she says.
“Don’t talk to him Miss, he’s not up to standards,” the guard warns. Page scoffs.
“Standards? The only standards I live up to are the ones that I care about, asshole,” Page remarks.
“You dare speak to me that way in front of-“
“Calm down Lock! He’s no bother,” the mare says. The guard sputters.
“No bother!? He is cursing in your presence!” He exclaims.
“So? Uncle curses all the time, but I never minded,” she counters. The guard huffs.
“Look, I'm just trying to look after you. You know what kind of underbelly sorts live here,” the guard says, slumping his shoulders a bit. Page deadpans at him.
“Asshole, I’m just waiting on my food and getting out, so calm your tits,” Page says.
“What did you say!?” The guard yells. Page sighs.
“Let me dumb it down: Your honkers need to stop going bonkers,” Page replies. The guard glares. “... Okay, how about: Hakuna your tatas?... Undo the calamity that is your mammaries?... Don’t have a rack attack?... Reset the mojo, to pass the dojo.” The mare is barely stifling her laugh. “Please cease for release-“
“Your food’s here,” the cashier says suddenly, scaring Page.
“Oh, thanks,” he says. He turns to the pink mare and waves bye. “Have a good one, hope you get used to the Manehatten heat.” With that, he leaves. “What a weird ass lot of ponies,” he mutters.
The next morning...
Page yawns as he walks to the Manehatten Checkpoint. He makes sure his new hat is snug on his head. He think he’ll get a new hat soon, as well as some gloves. The hat certainly helps, but his claws still feel the cold when he works in the small office. He passes various guards marching along, before reaching the door to his new job. Opening it, he sees that a letter’s on his desk. Quirking an eyebrow, he takes it and reads it.
Dear Inspector,
A new law was passed today for immigration. Due to increasing complaints raised by various other checkpoints, certain items can now be brought into the room and are needed to be checked. Please refer to your newly updated rulebook.
Princess Twilight
PS: If Anon is reading, I swear there’s a reason for it.
Page hums in interest. “So the Princess makes letters for this checkpoint? Geezer must be pretty important.” With that, he takes the rulebook and flips to the rules section. “Right, let’s see. Uh...” He pauses upon seeing one of the words. “The hell? Why aren’t balloons allowed?” He flips the page and squints. ’... Water bottles are only acceptable when clear/see through. Otherwise, deny them. Final banned item: 64 Crayon Color pack (details are classified by EIB).’ Page keeps staring at the words, racking his brain on why the absolute fuck crayons aren’t allowed in. “... Fuck it, don’t care,” he finally says. He leans towards the mic. “Next!” The first creature to walk in is a tall, black and green changeling.
“Ah, yet another sub. I figured Anon wouldn’t be here on Sunday, but yet I’m still disappointed,” she says, walking up.
“... Okay, creepy as fuck, papers please,” Page says.
“Oh? A bold one aren’t we?” She asks. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Look, I just want to get through the day without mind games. For the love of fuck, give me your damn papers,” Oage deadpans.
“Oh, spicy. Just how I like my prey,” the changeling responds, opening her mouth to show off her fangs.
“... Look, I don’t have any mints, and if I did, I wouldn’t have enough. So, can we skip to the part where I get your passport, or should I call the guards?” Page asks.
“I can’t tell if you’re brave, or cocky. Nonetheless, I’ve had my fun. Here,” she hands him her passport. Upon opening it, his eyes narrow at the gender.
“What the fuck- neither? How the fuck can- oh right. Cheese legs. Got it,” he says.
“I prefer to be called a changeling queen, Queen Chrysalis, if you can help it,” she hisses.
“And I prefer you to stop breathing on me with your nasty ass breath, but we can’t all win,” Page says, stamping the passport green. “Go out there, get some Tic-Nacs.”
“Hm. Very rude. You’re almost like Anon. Truly curious. I hope we meet again, little griffon,” Chrysalis says, walking out.
“Celestia, what an asshole,” Page remarks. He leans towards the mic. “Next!”
The next entrant is a spiffy stallion with a bow and a cane. His Grey coat is glossy, and his white mane is shiny. “... Am I at the right Checkpoint?” The stallion asks, upon seeing Thin Page.
“Nah, you’re at McDonald’s,” Page replies.
“Ugh, I’m too tired to go anywhere else. Tell you what-“ the stallion pulls out a a large bag of bits. “Take this and I can move on.”
“Where’s your passport?” Page asks.
“Excuse me?”
“Passport. Where is it?” He repeats.
“Don’t be silly, you don’t need to look-“
“With that kind of phrasing, year I fuckin’ do. Where the fuck is your passport?” Page asks. The stallion sighs.
“Fine. Be that way. Here,” he hands Page his passport. “Now be quick about it. You’ve already wasted a lot of my time already.” Page huffs. He’s not particularly fond of rich ponies like the stallion in front of him. He takes the paper and skims through it.
“Let’s see,” he mutters. He stops when he sees that the stallion has a bag. “Wait, hold on, I need to look through that bag.”
“No you don’t, filthy griffon,” the stallion says. Page narrows his eyes.
“Yes, I do bitch,” Page says, yanking the bag away quickly. Unceremoniously, he dumps out the contents, expecting to find drugs or something of equal value that’ll send this stallion to prison to wipe off that smirk of his. Admired,y, he was over eager. The items that fall down are bags of bits, a couple maps, a coloring book, some keys, a now-broken watch that was crushed by a bag of bits, and- “Uh oh,” Page says.
“You barbaric beast! I demand you pay for this!” The stallion yells.
“Actually, no. It’s the other way around,” he says. “You think I wouldn’t find this!?” Page hold up the illegal object to the stallion.
“... I don’t see the point, why is that relevant?” The stallion asks. Page decides to drum up the drama a bit.
“Oh yeah, like you wouldn’t know the dangers this shit’s capable of. To deny such premonitions is preposterously perplexing upon the paradoxes of one’s self!” Page feigns disgust towards the pony. “You diabolical mad stallion!”
“What in Faust’s green Equestria are you babbling on about!?” The stallion yells. “I see no harm in this!” The door opens as Spearhead steps in.
“Alright, alright, what’s going on?” He asks.
“This stallion is carrying the most illegal shit I’ve ever seen,” Page says.
“He’s lying!” The stallion yells. Spearhead looks at Page, and looks him over.
“... Alright, what did he have?” He asks.
“This,” Page says, showing the damning evidence.
“... Kid, I know this is your second day... but that’s a pack of crayons,” Spearhead says.
“Ah Ah, not just any pack of crayons, a sixty four set pack of crayons,” Page says, shaking his head in absolute shame.
“... Rookie, what exactly is so dangerous about the crayons?” Spearhead asks.
“Oh, I dunno. Rules said it’s classified by EIB,” Page says, pulling up the page and showing him. Spearhead squints at the page and grows confused.
“... What in Tartarus? Are crayons illegal now?” He asks.
“No, that’d be silly,” Page says sarcastically.
“You cannot seriously be siding with this peasant!” The stallion shouts.
“Excuse me, a peasant?” Spearhead asks. He glances at Page before sighing. “... Come with me sir, please refrain from pulling a... sixty four pack of crayons on me.” Page can tell that Spearhead’s trying to take it seriously, albeit with reluctance. The stallion turns to the griffon with anger.
“This isn’t the last you’ve heard from me!” He growls.
“Shame,” Page says. “I was enjoying our time oh so much.” The stallion scowls at Oage before he’s taken from view by Spearhead. Page smiles a bit and leans towards the mic. “Next!”
The next entrant is a brown griffon, with red accents. He looks a little hurried. “Where’s Anon?” He asks. Page blinks.
“My boss?” He dumbly asks. “He’s chilling at his house or something, I don’t fucking know.” The griffon hands Page his papers.
“Great. I shouldn’t have come today, I should’ve waited,” the griffon says.
“What’s the rush? Piled shit until it’s too late to do anything?” Page asks, scanning through the papers.
“Well, uh, it’s my son, you see,” the griffon starts. “I’ve been worried sick, and I haven’t heard from him in a small while.”
“Hm. Sounds like he’s avoiding you,” Page notes. “It’s something I’d do. Which means you must’ve pissed him off somehow. What’d ya do?” The griffon freezes up for a second before sighing.
“Well, I... I think his mother and I scared him away. We’ve been fighting for a while now... He doesn’t like fighting,” he says. Page hums.
“Damn, he’d hate my family then, we fight a lot. Why’re you and your wife fighting?” Page asks, his curiosity growing.
“I... I don’t know anymore,” he replies. “It just... I remember that I snapped at her one day, for some stupid reason, and it snowballed from there.” The griffon’s eyes start to tear up. “I don’t... I don’t want to fight. I want to apologize to m-my son. I- I-“ The griffon fully breaks down and starts bawling. Page leans back a bit, awkwardly.
“Uh, dude, chill the fuck out,” he says. The griffon looks up, still crying a bit. “Shit’s not gonna get better if you keep crying. So, buck up, and say sorry or some shit.” Page takes a moment to open up the drawers, looking around. Finally, he finds some tissues handy. He gives one to the griffon. As the griffon blows his nose, Page looks through the papers once again before stamping them green. “Now, fuck off and feel better.” The griffon takes the papers and nods gratefully.
“Thank you, for listening. I hope we meet again,” he says before walking out. Page sighs, shaking his head.
“I feel like today’s just gonna keep being shitty as fuck,” he mutters. He leans towards the mic. “Next!”
The next entrants are two creatures. The first is a white hippogriff with blue and yellow accents. He wears a dog tag around his neck. The other creature is a griffon, a little shorter than the other, but a little more muscular. He has dark green feathers, with lighter accents around his eyes and feathers. His fur is grey. They wordlessly walk up and hand their passports over. “Finally, some fuckers who don’t give me an attitude,” Page says. They both blink and exchange glances.
“Uh, you’re welcome?” The hippogriff says. Page notices that the griffon is carrying a bag.
“Wait, I need to check that bag,” he says. The griffon shrugs and lifts it onto the counter. Page opens it, finding a couple of uniforms, two wallets, an old framed photo, and some sandwiches in enclosed plastic bags. The photo shows the group together, with broken armor and wrapped appendages. In between them is a hippogriff, missing a wing. The wing of the second hippogriff is replaced with a bandaged stub.
“War buddies?” Page asks.
“Yep. We met in the Great War, fending off dragon forces from the north west. Greeny here said he wanted to be a police officer after all the shit we went through,” the hippogriff says, slapping the green griffon’s back with a laugh. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, after being bombarded for hours, first thing I hear is, ‘After this shit, I’m joining the police force. Shit doesn’t happen too often there!’” The griffon rolls his eyes.
“Well, I sure as Tartarus didn’t want to be retired,” he mutters. “Besides, I’ve been doing a great deal of stuff because of that. Things are interesting but not life threatening, so that’s a win for me.” He smiles and looks at Page. “My name’s Greenhorn, do you know anyone interested in joining the police force? Give them this,” he says, pulling out a card and handing it to Page. The card has various numbers and addresses, with a slogan that says ‘Do Equestria Proud by joining a PD!’
“Uh, thanks,” Page says, putting the card into a bin out of the entrants’ view.
“Sorry, he’s still excited about his new program. He managed to convince some nobles to fund a campaign to allow more griffons into the police force. Crazy bastards actually went for it,” he says.
“And now, I’m checking up on some of the griffons I recruited. One of them was especially promising,” he says. “He was a fine young griffon, sharp as a tack.”
“Yeah, so sharp he managed to transfer to Manehatten without him noticing,” the hippogriff snickers.
“Oh shut up Edge,” Greenhorn says. Page looks through the passports as they banter a bit before stamping them green.
“I’m just saying,” Edge says.
“Well, y’all can fuck off now,” Page says, handing their papers back.
“Ah, thanks,” Greenhorn states, taking the passports and walking out.
“Thanks for the talk,” Edge says, walking out as well. Page sighs after they leave. Something didn’t feel right. He’s not sure what. Oh well. He leans towards the mic. However, a sudden yell of pain stops him. “Oh no- Greenhorn!” Page walks over and cracks the door open to see the green griffon on the ground. Edge is panicking, standing next to him in shock. “Help! He’s having a heart attack!” Before he finishes his sentence, a couple of guards run up and carry the griffon off the courtyard. Spearhead appears. “Sir, come with me.” With that, they walk off. Page looks on with concern, a little shocked from what just transpired.
“Celestia...” he mutters. He turns back and returns to his desk, breathing to calm down a bit. The griffon he just talked to, who was seemingly fine, just suffered a heart attack not even two minutes later. He rubs his temples, trying to calm down a bit. He needs to keep going and do his job. He leans towards the mic. “Next!”...
It’s about noon, and the substitute came in. Page is walking out of the office, grumbling. “Dammit, I forgot my lunch,” he mutters, feeling hungry after today. He walks into the main office building, finding the secretary at her desk yet again. She looks up and almost deflates a bit from seeing him.
“Oh. Hey Page,” Clipper says.
“Don’t be too disappointed, ass,” Page says. “Look, I’m only here so that I can get used to my coworkers, according to the old Geezer, so lay off my back will ya?” Clipper sighs and continues her duties. Page sits down and leans back a bit, stretching. As he sits, he looks down to see Maple running in. “Oh, hey dude.”
“Where’s the infirmary!?” Maple almost yells. Page leans back a bit from the outburst, as did Clipper.
“Uh, I believe it’s that way,” she says, pointing to a small series of buildings a little ways from the main office building. “What’s going on?”
“I need to see someone!” Maple falls out, rushing out just as quickly. Page frowns and gets up.
“Looks like I’ve got something to do now,” he notes, following after his roommate. Clipper watches them leave, concerned about what’s going on.
Maple rushes into the building and slides to a stop in front of a help desk. “Is a Mr Greenhorn still here!?” He asks. The mare at the desk blinks in surprise from the sudden yell before nodding.
“Uh, yeah. Two rooms down the left,” she says.
“Thanks,” Maple says before gunning it down the hall. Page skids to a stop at the desk before following Maple again. Maple runs into the room and finds Greenhorn lying on a bed with an oxygen mask on. He slowly looks over to see Maple. “Sir!” Maple exclaims, rushing to his side. The griffon smiles and takes off the mask.
“Maple, it’s good to-“ he stops to cough. “-good to see you. Is the transfer going well?”
“Mr Greenhorn! What happened!?” Maple asks, as Page runs in panting.
“Oh, calm down. I’ve been expecting this for a while now. Did you talk to your father yet?” Greenhorn asks.
“I- I-... Sir, why’re you here?” Maple asks.
“Maple, you disappeared without a trace. How am I supposed to take that?” He replies. “You’re full of-“ he coughs, making Maple tense up. “You’re full of potential, and I want to make sure you’ve got your act straight before I go...”
“Before you- wait, hold on!” Maple says. “Sir, you aren’t gonna-“
“Again, I’ve known about my condition for some time,” Greenhorn says, chuckling. “I’ve had a good act until now, but I don’t think my heart can take it anymore.”
“No, don’t talk like that sir,” Maple says quietly.
“You’ll be fine Maple. I’ve trained you myself before your transfer. It might’ve only been a couple of months, but you’re the best student I’ve ever had. I only ask that-“ he coughs, and it’s now that Maple and Page notice how weak the griffon’s voice is getting. “I only ask that you and your father talk again. Please.” Maple nods, tearing up. “Good. Now, let me rest. I know my time’s almost up, but I’ll be dammed before I give up without fighting.” With that, the griffon puts his oxygen mask back on, and lays his head down. He gives Maple a smirk and pats his shoulder. “You’re good kid, you don’t need me anymore,” he muffles. Maple slowly nods, sniffling.
“... Come on Maple, let’s let the old guy rest,” Page says, gently taking Maple away from the bed and walking him out. Outside the room, they sit in some chairs set outside as a doctor walks in. Silence flows between them as Maple stares at the floor. Page awkwardly fiddles with his talons. “...Hey, did that guy recruit you?” Page asks.
“... Yeah. He was my trainer in Canterlot. He saw that I was struggling, and he took me under his wing. I felt bad because I wasn’t like other griffons that were there, ready to beat down criminals, and it made him look bad for training me. However, he was really patient, he made me realize what I was really good at, and I managed to get graduate. I was going to stay by his side, join a force in Canterlot, but someone had mentioned that Manehatten’s getting worse. I uh... I suddenly wanted to be here, instead.” Maple sighs and rubs his face. “Celestia, that was stupid. I shouldn’t have left.”
“Why did you then?” Page asks. Maple rubs his neck, looking down.
“... I guess I missed my home away from home,” he chuckles quietly. “Uncle Anon and Aunt Whiskey’s always been there for me when I was younger. I guess I really missed them...” Page looks at Maple for a second before laughing.
“Damn, everyone just loves their family today, huh,” he says. Maple looks up to him in confusion.
“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks.
“Well, some guy came in this morning babbling about wanting to see his son. Had the fucking waterworks on and everything,” he says. Maple shakes a little.
“W-what did he look like?” He asks.
“Uh, let’s see, I think he was brown and red, very emotional griffon,” Page replies. Maple’s eyes widen.
“D-did you catch his name?” He asks.
“Uh, no. I kinda glanced over it. As long as it matched with everything else I-“
“Well, lookie here! Maple, is that you?” A voice asks. Both griffons look over to see Edge, walking over with a small smile.
“Mr Double!” Maple falls, standing up.
“At ease, you’re not on duty little guy. What’re you doing here?” He asks.
“Well, I heard Mr Greenhorn was hurt, so I rushed over,” Maple says.
“Ah. Well, he’ll be fine. Son of a bitch hasn’t kicked the bucket during the war, I don’t think he’ll kick the bucket now,” Edge says. Maple chuckles, nodding.
“Well, still,” he says.
“Still nothing. Go home, you’re tired,” Edge says. Maple shakes his head.
“No, I’m good,” he says. Edge rolls his eyes.
“The bags under your eyes say otherwise,” he comments. Page looks at Maple to see that there were definitely dark circles under his eyes. He does look tired, and now that Page thinks about it, Maple tends to stay up reading over files in the past two days.
“Yeah buddy, you need to sleep a bit,” Page chimes in. “Tell the worries of the world to fuck off for a few minutes.”
“That’s the spirit!” Edge says, walking over. He pats Maple’s back, and nudges him. “Go on, rest up. I’ll look after the feathered bastard.” Maple looks back at him with concern, but sighs.
“I’ll come back tomorrow, I promise,” Maple says. Edge nods and watches on as Maple leaves, with Page close behind...
Page and Maple walk down the streets, passing various rushing bystanders. “Today’s a shit day,” Page mentions. Maple nods.
“Yeah...” Maple continues being quiet as Page awkwardly follows. “... I think you saw my dad.”
“Hm?”
“My dad. He was probably the griffon you talked to this morning, the one crying,” he clarifies.
“Oh... Uh, okay?” Page says, unsure of where this is heading.
“I... I want to avoid him,” Maple says. Page blinks.
“... Fuck no,” he says, “You’re not avoiding shit.” Maple looks at Page in surprise.
“What!? Why!?”
“Because I’m already doing that, and that shit’s not fucking healthy!” He yells. Maple flinches.
“W-well, it’s only for a little bit more-“
“No. I would kill for a chance like this!” Page says. “If you put this off, it just gets worse. And for me, I’m gonna bet ten bits that the fucker’s gonna come by every day until you say something. I’m not dealing with a sobbing adult in front of our doorstep for weeks on end because you’re afraid of talking to him.” Maple starts to protest, but clamps his mouth shut and looks down.
“You’re right... I... I should talk to him,” he says. “But... what do I say? I kind of just left without saying anything...”
“Dude, don’t ask me how to talk to angry family members, I suck at that,” Page replies.
“Well... Maybe I can-“ Maple pauses as he looks up. Page quirks an eyebrow and follows his gaze. In front of their apartment building, there’s police tape surrounding an alley next to it. A crowd of ponies gasping and staring surround it and an ambulance car.
“Move it along!” A pony in a police uniform yells, making a path through the crowd as a couple of ponies carry a stretcher towards an ambulance. Maple takes off, running up.
“Hold- hold on!” He calls. The ponies don’t heed him and continue into the vehicle, before shutting the doors and driving off. Maple slows to a stop before turning to see the officer. “Hey! Grizzle!” He calls. The pony stops Maple from walking through the tape.
“Maple, Maple, calm down-“
“Who was it?” Maple asks. Page stands by, a little ways away, watching this go down.
“Maple, it’ll be fine-“
“Who was it!?” Maple asks, louder this time.
“Maple!” The pony yells. “Calm. Down. We don’t know who that is yet. Just calm down. What’s got you so worked up?” Maple stops and backs off, looking ahead of the pony.
“My- my dad was- oh Celestia-“ Maple starts panicking, breathing heavily, and Page steps in, grabbing Maple.
“Calm down, calm down. We don’t know who that is, okay? What are the chances it’s your dad? There’s millions of creatures here Maple, anyone one of them can be in that ambulance. So calm down, let’s go to our room, and chill the fuck out, okay?” Page asks. Maple looks at him, then at the officer. He sighs, and starts walking away. Page grimaces and follows as the police pony returns to making the local civilians move on. Page glances at the crime scene, and sees a small pool of blood soaking into the dirty cement. He shudders and continues following his roommate. Holy fuck, today was shitty.
I quickly walk with Whisk, with a sense of urgency I really didn’t think I’d experience again in my life. Whisk is trying to be slow enough for me, but Can barely keep up with her. We’re completely silent as we walk through the hospital halls. We got a call earlier to confirm a body they found a little less than an hour ago. From its description, Whisk was pale and terrified. I can see Whisk is trying not to panic, but she’s just barely keeping it together.
Finally, we open a door to find a griffon laying in bed, with blood soaked bandages around his mid-section. I can recognize this griffon anywhere. Canadian Bacon. To be honest, it actually looks better than when he was almost blown up. I grimace nonetheless, because he does not look like he’s in a good condition. “Oh my-“ Whisk stops and turns away, sobbing a little as I keep looking at Bacon’s body. He’s barely breathing, but he’s breathing nonetheless. I softly shush Whisk, stroking her head as I try to keep my own calm. Bacon’s eyes crack open and they slowly look over to me. They fall down to Whisk. His beak moves slowly, but a wheezing breath sounds out. I’m guessing the wounds messed with his lungs. A while ago, I learned that although magic could heal a lot of wounds quickly, creatures that are near death will have longer recovery time since their cells are slowly reviving or some shit. Hence why I’m much more cautious about terrorists attacks. I tap Whisk, nodding towards her brother. She slowly turns to see his eyes and she sobs loudly.
“Oh thank Celestia you aren’t dead!” She cries. Bacon slowly reaches to a table next to him and finds a paper and pen. Weakly, he starts writing. Once he’s done, she shows us what he wrote.
“Hi Whisky. It’s good see you. Can’t talk, too weak.” I hum as Whisk lets out her emotions.
“I’m just glad you’re alive, what happened?!” Whisk asks. As Bacon writes on his paper, I hear two voices coming down the hall.
“Maple, I’m sure it’s not-“
“I know! You’ve said it a million times Page, but shut it!” Whisk and I look back to see Maple and Thin Page stumble in, before freezing as they see Bacon.
“Holy shit,” Page says.
“Dad!” Maple cries, rushing to his father’s side. Bacon holds up a paper for us to read as he puts a hand on Maple’s head.
“Attacked. Don’t know who. Strong, and talons.” I furrow my brow as Maple and Whisk look at it.
“...” Maple stares at it silently as Whisk shakes her head.
“Who would do such a thing?” She asks.
“A griffon, a hippogriff, or anything else that has talons,” I say. Maple looks at Bacon.
“Dad, I swear, I’m going to find who did this to you-“ He’s interrupted by Bacon putting a talon on his beak. He quickly scribble something on his paper.
“ No. Danger. Police help.” Maple shakes his head.
“No, I need to make it up, this is my fault you’re hurt,” he says, tearing up. Bacon smiles weakly and scribbles something.
“Never been prouder of you. Just needed to know you’re safe.” Bacon reaches over and hugs Maple as he cries. Page watches on, thinking in his mind about the situation unfolding before him. I look over to see his face and recognize it.
“Hey, kid,” I say, drawing his attention. I nod towards the door, and he gets the message. We walk out of the room, giving the family space, and I crouch down to him. “You alright?” He scoffs.
“Should be asking Maple that,” he says. I nod.
“Well, it’s clear he’s not alright. His father was just stabbed. But you look like some shit’s going through your head. What’s wrong?” I ask. He scowls.
“None of your fucking business Geezer.” I sigh.
“... Can I help?” I ask. He stops, like a wind up toy that suddenly can’t move. He looks at me slowly. I can tell that he’s seriously considering this. I can take a good guess as to what he’s thinking. He’s probably wondering if he can really trust me. Meanwhile, he’s also wondering if I’m serious. He looks down for a moment, before sighing.
“... I don’t need your help,” he calmly says. I nod.
“Okay. If you say so,” I tell him. “You look a little shaken up. I’ve seen a lot of people enough to know what it looks like.”
“It’s nothing, I’m just... thinking,” he says. Suddenly, a doctor comes in.
“Sorry, but I noticed a lot of creatures were coming in. We need to start giving the griffon some space in order for him to recover.” I almost scowl at the doctor, but I get surprised when I notice Maple pull away from his hug.
“I... I promise, whoever did this-“
“Maple,” I say gently. He snaps his attention to me and gives me a pleading look. Seeing how I didn’t change my expression, Maple looks back at his father, who is still smiling. Bacon shakes his head silently, trying to give Maple wordless reassurance. I look at Page to see him deep in thought.
“... Sir, I know this is a rough time, but please leave. Your father will recover faster if he rests,” the doctor says. He turns to Whisk, taking out a pen and a clipboard. “And you are Ms Bacon, correct? His sister? I need you to fill out this form to confirm his identity.” I look at Whisk, who’s wincing every time she looks at Bacon. She nods and takes the pen and board.
“... Come on Maple, there’s nothing we can do,” Page suddenly says. Maple shoots him a look of shock, but pauses as he feels a push from his father. He looks at Bacon in confusion, who has written something.
“Please, go. When you come back tomorrow, I’ll be speaking.” Maple looks up at his dad and hugs him.
“I love you dad,” he says, his voice trembling. Hesitantly, he leaves his father’s side and walks with Page out of the room. I follow behind to give Whisk some space.
In the hall, Page turns to me. “I’ll take him back to our apartment, okay?” Page asks. I sigh, nodding as I rub my head.
“Yeah, just be careful. I don’t want to find a replacement already,” I say. He frowns.
“That’s not fucking funny,” he comments.
“Didn’t say it was,” I reply. He rolls his eyes.
“Whatever Geezer. Hey Maple, come on.” With that, the two younger griffons start walking away. As they get farther away from me, I notice Page whisper something to him. Maple looks at him in surprise, but nods and hurries away with Page in tow. I frown. They’re definitely planning to investigate on their own. I mean, what else could Maple be agreeing to right now, after his dad’s been stabbed, with a surprised look? I sigh out loud as I think. I know Maple’s a smart kid, he won’t get caught, but why would Page want to help him? Sure, he’s prideful, but he’s known Maple for less than three days... I’ll keep an eye on him. Maybe he wasn’t so honest with me at first...
At the apartment complex, Page checks the corner to make sure no one’s watching as Maple looks around the place. “Hurry up,” Page says. The scene of the crime is blocked off by tape, in a large alleyway between the complex and another building. There’s a dumpster and a few garbage cans around. Near a dumpster is a pool of blood that belongs to Bacon.
“Sorry, thanks for helping me by the way,” Maple says, looking at the ground near the pool of blood.
“This isn’t for free, you owe me a favor,” Page says. “I'm not risking a single fucking feather for someone that won’t keep a promise.” Maple nods as he looks around the scene a bit more, trying to find anything that could help him. So far, there’s nothing but dirt, dirt, more dirt and- wait. Maple stops as he finally notices something off to the side. There are some feathers near a different garbage can. Maple walks over and looks closely. He can’t pick it up, otherwise he’ll be caught trying to solve the case via DNA. He frowns as he realizes the feathers are his fathers, which have his distinctive red color.
“What is this favor you wanted anyway?” Maple asks. Page sighs.
“Just focus on this first. My problem can come later,” Page says. Maple hums as he looks at the feathers a bit more. They’re intact, plucked, and can be identified as primary feathers from his dad’s wing. Whoever the attempted-killer is, they could stab Bacon, drag him a bit, and hold him down as they pluck his feathers. Maple can guess that the attempted-killer was probably interrupted as he was doing this, as one feather was ripped off in a hurry. Either the suspect is psychotic, or it was personal. Probably both. Page looks over.
“What’s up?”
“The feathers... come look at this,” Maple says. Page comes over and looks at the feathers before grimacing.
“Damn, that shit hurts,” he says.
“You see it too?” Maple asks. Page scoffs.
“I’ve got eyeballs,” he notes.
“Excuse me?” A voice asks. The griffons turn around to see a pony with a bit of fear in his eyes.
“Yes? Can I help you?” Maple asks.
“Are you with the police?” The citizen asks. Maple nods, taking out his badge. He shows it to the pony, who gives a sigh.
“Oh, thank Celestia. I just wanted to say, I think I saw who did it,” he says. Maple squints and takes out a pen and paper.
“Hey, may I ask you to stay here for a bit? Some of my coworkers will be here shortly, and they’ll need everything you’ll tell me,” he says. The pony shakes his head.
“Not a problem. It’s just- I saw a pony running from this alley before we all saw the body. I think he was purple, and might have been a pegasus,” the pony continues. “I do remember one thing, he spat out a cigarette before he bolted.” Maple nods.
“And where did you see it go?” He asks. The pony points to the dumpster.
“Well, i think it might be cleaned up already, but he spat it in that direction from somewhere around here,” he says. Maple nods.
“Thanks. Again, please stay nearby and wait for more police to come. They’ll ask some more questions,” he says. The pony nods and walks off as Page hums.
“Thought your old man said he felt talons?” Page asks.
“He did... I don’t know what’s going on, but Ikm going to solve this,” Maple says. He looks at the sky and frowns. “Come on, I think we’re almost out of time. I got what I need.” Page shrugs and walks with him. “Now, let’s rest up. I probably won’t be called in for a few days, which is enough time for me to solve this. Tomorrow, we’re heading to a pawn shop.” Page looks at his roommate with confusion as they walk into the building.
“Why a pawn shop?” He asks. Maple thinks back to the shop owner, who fits the description the pony gave him.
“We’re having a chat with a retired gangster,” he says with a bit of venom as he continues walking, thinking back to the watch he got from said owner... and he thought of the owner’s smirk, which seems so condescending now.