Berry Punch sat patiently in the living room, her attention divided between the nearby window and the television set. She had tuned into a very interesting program to pass the time, about a pair of Chicolto griffin gangsters who called themselves the Piranha Brothers; apparently they had commanded a great deal of terror and loyalty amongst their “business associates”, and were feared by the general public.
“Hey, Mom,” called Ruby Pinch as she entered the room. “What's on the TV then?”
Berry Punch looked up. “Looks like a penguin,” she replied casually, gazing at the figurine mounted on top of the set.
“No, I didn't mean what's on the television set!” giggled her daughter. “I meant what sort of program are you watching?”
“Oh...just a little documentary about the Piranha Brothers,” explained Berry Punch. “The Danger and Dread of Doug and Dinsdale, I think it was called.”
“Doug and Dinsdale? Weird choice of names, don't you think?”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” agreed Berry Punch with a wry smile. “But it's even weirder how they managed to command so much terror and loyalty among their associates.”
“Oh right? How come?” asked Ruby, settling down on the sofa next to her mother.
Berry Punch simply nodded back towards the television. By now, an interview had begun with an Earth pony who was talking about how Dinsdale, the younger of the pair, had used comical violence to punish him for an act of betrayal, even going as far as to nail his head to the floor – yet for all the world, he looked perfectly unharmed! Ruby couldn't help wondering whether he had some kind of incredible healing power.
If so, she quickly came to realise, it must have applied to all the other victims too; for while a number of others were also interviewed, not one bore even a single scratch to remind them of Dinsdale Piranha's violent acts. Almost all of them spoke warmly of him; in particular, a classy unicorn mare who had dated him in the past defended him as a charming, affable and perfectly normal creature. The only thing wrong with him, she confided, was that he thought he was being watched by a giant hedgehog whom he called Spiny Norman.
“Funny, that penguin being there,” remarked Berry Punch after a while.
“Funny indeed?” said Ruby dubiously. “Didn't you put it there in the first place, Mom?”
“No, I don't even remember buying it, let alone placing it there. I was too busy tending to the juice bar.”
“Then what's it even doing there?”
“Standing,” answered Berry Punch plainly.
Ruby rolled her eyes. “I can see that, Mom – I mean where did it come from? Next door, maybe?”
“Penguins don't come from next door,” retorted Berry Punch, fighting back a smirk, “they come from the Icy South!”
“Baltimare!!!” burst out Ruby, completely out of the blue.
Berry Punch stopped, blinking in confusion. “Why did you say Baltimare?”
“I, uh...I panicked?” stammered Ruby sheepishly.
“Oh...okay,” murmured Berry Punch, returning her attention to the program. The topic had now turned from Dinsdale to Doug, with a nightclub owner recounting how he had been confronted by the vicious griffin for failing to pay for a fruit machine he had provided. Apparently, even Dinsdale was afraid of Doug, who was said to strike fear into his opponents through all manner of sarcasm. “Perhaps it's from the zoo?” she suggested.
“Which zoo?”
“Baltimare, perhaps? That has a zoo, now I come to think of it.”
“Yeah, but...surely it'd have 'Property of Baltimare Zoo' stamped on it if that were the case,” objected Ruby.
“I doubt it,” said Berry Punch sceptically. “No zoo would just stamp its ownership onto its animals. Imagine trying to stamp a full-grown lion!”
“Well, they stamp them when they're small,” Ruby pointed out.
“What happens when they moult?”
“Lions don't moult.”
“No, but penguins do!” stated Berry Punch triumphantly.
Ruby shrugged and continued to watch the program – but only for a moment, as the presenter announced that there would be a five-minute station break. “And now on ETV1, the penguin on your television set will explode.”
Before mother or daughter could wonder what the presenter was talking about, there was a sudden loud bang as the penguin spontaneously blew itself to pieces. Ruby immediately dashed off to the kitchen to find a dustpan and brush, while Berry Punch was left staring at the remains in disbelief. “How did that guy know...?”
“It was an inspired guess,” said the presenter, seemingly to his baffled watcher. “And as for the Piranha Brothers, we'll be finding out about their tracking and subsequent capture after the break.”
With nary more than a shake of her head, Berry Punch quietly accepted his explanation and went back to gazing out of the window. Almost on cue, she heard the doorbell ringing, and trotted eagerly downstairs to see who it was. “Must be the new gas cooker,” she murmured.
Sure enough, when she opened the door, she found two delivery ponies standing outside with the aforementioned appliance. “Morning,” said one of them. “Miss Berry Shine?”
“No, Berry Punch,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“This is the Mulberry Bush Juice Bar, 46 Foaledo Crescent, isn't it?”
“No, Foaledo Road,” corrected Berry Punch patiently.
The Earth stallion quickly checked his delivery sheet. “Oh yeah, it says Foaledo Road right here. Now then, could I speak to Berry Shine, please?”
Berry Punch looked perplexed. “There's nopony here of that name. It's just me, Berry Punch, and my daughter Ruby Pinch.”
“Well, it says Shine here, don't it, Windsor Lad?”
“Yeah, it's on the invoice,” agreed his unicorn colleague.
“But there must be a mistake,” protested Berry Punch. “The address is right, and that's definitely the cooker I ordered, a blue and white Cook 'n' Eat Plus with pink hearts on it.”
“Hmm...” The first stallion pondered. “Well, we can't let you have it immediately in that case; but we could take it back to the depot, fill out a transfer slip and put it on a special delivery for you.”
“Yeah, that's the best thing for it,” said the second. “We'll get it down there today, put it on a special and it'll be with you in ten weeks.”
“Ten weeks?!” repeated Berry Punch incredulously. “But can't you just leave it here with me?”
“Well, I dunno...I suppose we could leave it on a temporary dispatch note,” decided the first stallion. “That do you?”
“That's fine.” Berry Punch let out a sigh of relief as the two stallions gave her the appropriate form. “Kind of awkward, this, isn't it?”
“Ah well, never mind; at least we've got it sorted. If you could just sign here, Miss Shine?”
“Punch.”
“Punch, sorry.” Only now did another idea occur to the first stallion; “Listen, just for the books, could you sign it as Berry Shine Punch? It should make things easier.”
“Mm-hmm,” hummed Berry Punch as she accepted a pen from the delivery pony and wrote down her name as directed. “Right, well, that's that then.”
“Good, thanks very much; cooker's yours.” With Berry Punch's help, the two stallions carefully carted the cooker into the lounge area. “Sorry about the bother,” grunted the first one under the strain, “but there you go.”
“Nah, that's okay. Now, if we could just get it into the kitchen...”
Both stallions stopped in their tracks, bemused. “Say what now?” asked the first.
“Well, I can't just leave it here in the lounge; I need it connected up if I'm to start cooking.”
“Ah, we didn't know you had an installation invoice,” remarked the first stallion.
“An MI,” chimed in the second.
“We need an MI if we're to connect it, you see,” explained the first.
That was when a third pony, another Earth stallion, came into the lounge and added, “Or an R16, if it's a special.”
“Which one's the installation invoice?” inquired Berry Punch.
“Pink form from Fillydelphia.”
“Ah, okay. Just a second,” and Berry Punch galloped off to find the paperwork. She returned quite shortly, clutching the forms between her teeth. “This the one you're after?” she asked, setting them down on the counter and picking up a pink sheet.
The first stallion read through it to check it was right. “That's it, miss, that's the one we need...hang on – this is for Berry Punch.”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Well, we've got Berry Shine Punch on the delivery invoice.”
“Oh...” Berry Punch frowned awkwardly. “...well, shall I put the same signature on this one?”
“Nah, not an MI,” said the first.
“That's from Area Service in Fillydelphia,” the second pointed out.
“No, Coltenham, isn't it?” put in a fourth pony, this time a Pegasus mare, who had only just entered.
“Not on this side of Pennsylhaynia.”
Berry Punch was starting to grow a little frustrated. All she wanted was to have her cooker set up and ready for use, and here were a whole bunch of delivery ponies debating how to go about it. “Look, I just want it connected up, what's all the fuss about?!” she complained.
“What about Canterlot Office?” suggested the third pony.
“Nah, they've not got the right tools for the job,” replied the first.
“Well, not now they don't,” commented the second.
“Suffolk Depot?” asked yet another Earth stallion.
“No, they're on standard pressure,” the fourth pony responded.
“Same with Trottingham.” The five delivery ponies were now joined by a light blue changeling stallion in the same uniform.
“But surely they can connect up a gas cooker, can't they?” Berry Punch persisted.
“Yeah, but only in an emergency,” affirmed the first stallion.
“But this is an emergency! I've had to strike a few items off of the menu thanks to the last one breaking down!”
“Sorry, doesn't count. Emergency is a 290 – 'whether there is actual or apparent loss of gaseous substances.'”
“Yeah, like a leak,” the second stallion added.
“Or a 478.” Now there was a donkey offering his own two cents into the matter, thought Berry Punch? Where was this onslaught of delivery creatures going to end?
“No, that's valve adjustment,” the third pony corrected him
“But how can there be a leak if this thing hasn't been connected up?!” insisted Berry Punch, her patience wearing thin.
“Good point,” agreed the first stallion, “we'd have to turn it on.”
“But can't you turn it on and then connect it up?”
“No can-do, I'm afraid. But what we can do – and this is between you and me, I shouldn't really be telling you this – is turn your gas on, make a hole in your pipe, and then you can ring Suffolk Emergency. They'll be round here in two days' time.”
“What?! A house full of gas?!” exclaimed Berry Punch, aghast. “But Ruby and I'll be asphyxiated by then!”
“Oh, well, in that case, you'd have Pennsylhaynia State Area Manager round here quick as a flash; 'one or more creatures overcome by fumes', you'd have Head Office, Delamare, round here. That's murder, you see.”
“Or suicide,” put in the second pony.
“Nah, that's Albaneigh,” said the fifth.
“So...you say they'd be able to connect it up? This very afternoon?” asked Berry Punch more hopefully.
“Well, let's see...what time is it?” The first pony consulted his watch. “10:30...murder...they'd be round here by 2pm at the latest.”
“Oh, well, that's great!” declared Berry Punch.
“Right, well, if you'd like to lie down here?” The first stallion took hold of a pipe at the back of the cooker and hovered it over Berry Punch's mouth as she lay down on her back by the counter. One of the other ponies turned a valve, and gas started spraying out of the pipe. Berry Punch began to experience an odd feeling of wooziness, but she paid it no more attention than the hordes of delivery creatures who were still caught up in their unending discussion. At least they knew what they were doing, she thought; and in any event, it shouldn't come as that much of a shock if someone found her unconscious next to a newly delivered gas cooker. After all, the misconception that she drank heavily still hadn't subsided since she had become pregnant with Ruby.
Outside, a lengthy queue of delivery ponies were passing the word to each other of their colleagues' ploy when suddenly they were interrupted by a news vendor calling out the latest headline.
“Read all about it! Piranha Brothers Escape!”
The reaction of the delivery ponies, and all others in the street, was one of sheer terror. In an instant, everyone yelped in alarm and made a frantic dash for cover – inside their homes, behind the bushes, up in the trees, under traders' carts...until all that was left was an empty thoroughfare, with a gargantuan hedgehog hovering overhead. It was almost eight-hundred yards long, and gazed all around itself as it called out again and again;
“Dinsdale? Dinsdale?”