//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: INSURANCE! a Grumpy Goat >tail< // by De Writer //------------------------------// There was sadly, too short a time for such excellent company. We had to part our ways. Coalsmoke and I walked up toward Reverend Smallflower’s Assembly of the Twins. As our hooves made their quiet clopping on the cobbles of the street, Coalsmoke pointed out, “With what Celestia said there, you are going to be receiving around five and a half million golden bits in several smaller shipments. Have you thought of how you are going to get it all from the railhead to the Trust and Loan?” I nodded. “Indeed I have, Coalsmoke. I will use one of your companies, Hackamore Hauling. I believe that you do have an armored wagon for such work.” She chuckled, “Four of them, actually. There are lots of businesses in Ponyville that need substantial sums transferred, mine among them. I will make sure that one is available for your use.” I bobbed my glamored head as I asked, “Appreciate that, my friend. Why are you going to the Assembly?” Coalsmoke replied serenely, “Whether he was involved in the Bleatin’ Hallow mess or not, Noxon was a model husband. I want Reverend Smallflower to officiate his funeral. Besides, that gives me a perfect reason to give the Assembly another donation.” I gave her a sideways grin. “I am here to give him a donation too.” I held the door for her and followed her into the serene feeling that I always got when coming into the Assembly. The sign over the door over the door said ALL ARE WELCOME and it means it. I happen to know that a genuine demon from Tartaros occasionally drops by. Name of Clafacus. Coalsmoke and I walked quietly to Reverend Smallflower’s office and tapped on the door. When the spare white pegasus opened the door, he saw Coalsmoke’s mourning attire and immediately offered, “Coalsmoke, my dear, I am so sorry. The times that your late husband Noxon was here, he seemed to be both healthy and a model husband. What happened to him?” He opened the door and escorted us into his office, which was as plain and simple as its occupant. At least until you get to know him. He is plain in appearance but one of those rare ponies who is simply full of actual goodness. In spite of that, he is nopony’s fool and has a deep understanding of bad and evil beings combined with compassion and genuine caring for them. Remember Claficus? Right. A demon. Coalsmoke sat and waited for us to sit. She began, “My Noxon was a fine husband and in most ways a good and blameless pony. Sadly, he was deeply tied up in the Bleatin’ Hallow mess. When he found out that the Princesses were auditing that problem and others, he wrote a note carefully explaining his entire involvement. Then he jumped from a high window and fell to his death.” Reverend Smallflower laid a compassionate hoof on Coalsmoke’s shoulder. He asked with gentleness, “I see. What is it that you wish me to do?” Coalsmoke shook just a little and requested, “I want you to officiate his funeral and celebrate the goodness that he showed to me and to most of the world. I know that I can trust you to do it well. Whatever you need for it, I will provide. “On a happier note, do your books. Allow for feeding and housing the needy as well as taking care of the Assembly building and grounds. Whatever you need, I will double match.” The Reverend sat back and smiled serenely. He had hot water already on. He poured it into a pot. Allowing it to steep, he poured out three generous strained portions of tea. Smiling with genuine warmth, he accepted, “That is most generous of you, my dear. The Assembly will certainly find good uses for such a donation.” He leaned back, giving the tea a long sniff before asking, “What can I do for you, Grumpeter?” I smiled for him, using a glamor of my bare skull with fangs, glowing snake-like eyes, full curl horns and the everburning candle set between the horns. Bare bone like that should not be able to smile. It can, if it is a well managed glamor spell, and mine are the best. The Reverend chuckled. He has seen me like this before. I told him, “There are two vacant lots on Blackberry Lane that abut the back of the Assembly. I bought them both. They are the Assembly’s given in fee simple. You pay NOTHING for the transfers. “I noticed that the foal play yard is too crowded. Some of the land should go to fixing that. For the rest, I have arranged for Houser, the architect, to come here next week. I am paying him. Decide between the two of you, how to best use the land. Whatever you decide to build is wholly on my dime. “I know that whatever use you make of it will be good. “There is one more little thing. I am giving the Assembly an endowment of one million gold bits. You cannot touch the principal but will receive a monthly disbursement of the interest. That will be handled through Ponyville Trust and Loan.” Looking slightly shell shocked, the Reverend asked, “I accept, of course. But why?” I pointed out, “When a fortune gets too large, it is but a hoard, serving no purpose but the holder’s ego. I may have a lot of ego but I don’t have that much. My present worth is close to seven million. What I am giving you, is drawn from that. “In four more days, about, I will be receiving an armored rail car with a payment on my life insurance. Canterlot Casualty and Life is fifteen years behind on making the payment. With late penalties and interest it comes to 5,597,403 gold, seven silver and three. It too will go into Ponyville Trust and Loan, where it will be invested in and for the good of the local community.” Revered Smallflower sipped his tea and nodded thoughtfully for a few moments. “Grumpeter, I know that you wish this donation to remain anonymous, and I shall honor that. However, I would very much like to base a sermon on your notion that excess wealth becomes a mere hoard. That the surplus of such wealth is best used to the benefit of others.” I smiled again, all polished bone and fangs, as I replied, “Thank you, Reverend. You certainly may do so.” After a few more minutes of quiet conversation, Coalsmoke and I parted company. With funeral arrangements to make, insurances, trust funds and wills to deal with, I knew that she would not be up to my cave for our usual Daring Do readings for at least a few days. When I did get up the trail to my cave I was greeted at the ledge out front by none other than ol’ zombie face Lots. He did not appear to be happy with his lot! (bad joke there) He started right in, “Since you sold the spell that did this to me, you have to undo it! I have brought your standard 100 in gold for it!” I looked at him with glamored eyes that really did glow a sinister yellow and snorted, “No. I absolutely refuse. You got that appearance by LYING to your Royal Princess Celestia in a matter that she was directly investigating. I have told you already, as free service, how to remedy the look of your face. “Since Her Royal Highness will not interview you a second time, write the WHOLE truth of the answer to her every question in that interview. Hide nothing and do not try to slant any part of any answer. Submit it to her as part of her audit paperwork. If she accepts it and it passes as COMPLETELY true, your visage will return to normal.” “Drat you, Goat! You know that I can’t do that!” I smiled, with fangs, as I pointed out, “What? You can’t tell her that you were part of one or more criminal conspiracies? Ones that she already knows you are a part of?” “You don’t understand! Do you know where all that money is coming from to pay you on that life insurance?” “Other than that it is coming from the various branches of EQNB, no. I really don’t know or care.” “You are stealing it from me and the other hard working executives of the Bank! Besides stripping us, I mean the Bank branches, of the cash reserves, your precious Princess has taken away our carriage services! My expense account! My railpass! Even my gardening service! Who is going to take care of my estate now?” I stuck the tongue that I don’t really have into the cheek that I also don’t really have and looked him up and down, with eyes crossed! “Oh, I really don’t know, Mister Cheet M. Lots. Perhaps YOU? “I mean living within your means on the money that you get in salary is likely to be a new skill for you. Maybe you can begin now, by simply keeping that gold, instead of trying to spend it on me. After all, I will NOT do any sort of business with you. I already told you that.” In two days time, I was down at the Ponyville Rail Yard’s freight platform. I was impressed by Coalsmoke’s arrangements. The armored carriage was literally all iron or steel. She had an armed guard inside and four more outside. The ponies in the traces for this run were in solid plate and chain armor. Besides her arrangements, Princess Twilight had sent a full platoon of her Royal Guard. I was sort of surprised because one of them was an elderly looking donkey. Right on time, the special train pulled in, with the scream of a whistle and steam blasting out from each side’s big double acting cylinders and the clanging of its bell. I did a double take. That was one of the Equestrian Defense Bureau’s big armored 2, 4, 4’s with an equally armored fuel car. Somepony was taking the security of my gold seriously. As the armored rail car that it was pulling came up to the platform, a smiling pony in a Royal Rail uniform dismounted from the engine cab. He proffered a clipboard with forms. “Just sign the receipt copies on the lines, Mister Goat, and we can begin transferring your gold.” The old donkey’s hoof snagged the clipboard as he ordered, “R.I.S.! Arrest this pony!” Five of Princess Twilight’s Royal Guard had him in irons almost faster than it takes to tell it! Their leader approached the donkey and said politely. “Sir, while we have carried out your order, I must verify your identity.” The donkey nodded. “Perfectly proper, Major. It was hot on the Anvil.” Looking nervous, the Guard Major responded, “Did you die?” The donkey replied, “I think that I would have noticed.” He then held out a hoof. The Guard Major put his hoof on top of the donkey’s. For a second it pressed firmly and suddenly fell right through the donkey’s solid seeming hoof! Recovering his balance, the Guard Major called, “Identity of the Royal Intelligence Service Agent verified! Whatever he orders, do it!” While the Guard were hustling off the pony and his clipboard, I had to ask, “Not a Royal Railroad employee?” The old donkey nodded and snickered, “Not even. Try Canterlot Casualty and Life. They were trying to get you to sign a receipt for this shipment as full payment on your insurance claim. This is only about a third of what is due to you. The pony inside the car has the proper receipt.” The rest of the transfer was routine, if heavily guarded.