“I really must rule in favor of the defendant. The Pie Rock Farm remains in the hands of the Pie family, and in light of the surprising evidence brought forth by the youngest Pie member, I am also order that all court charges will be paid in full. Court adjourned.”
Shouts of joy and more than a few celebratory party cannons fired off as the Pie family heaved a collective sigh of relief. Six months, six whole months of bickering over land ownership when the rich Orange family approached the farm with a deed claiming ownership of the farm. Scare after scare, the Pie’s fought to protect their home, but it wasn’t until Inkie Pie, the littlest Pie, came to court with a substantial piece of evidence– the Oranges had thrown some substantial influence around and had managed to smudge some records, much to the surprise of everypony in attendance. Granny Smith had been quick to blacklist the Oranges from the family, citing their kind was much too different from the wholesome Apples, and would no longer tolerate their acidic influence. However, the matron of the Orange family denounced her husband, claiming ignorance, and took back her old Apple name.
Clockwork Orange was alone now, as the courtroom emptied of everypony. The Pies and the Apples had left together to discuss the win, and perhaps even talk business, if the spark in the eyes of Applejack and Blinkie were any indication. As the chatter of ponies died down all around the courthouse, Clockwork could only stare numbly forward. It wasn’t right. No, it simply wasn’t. He was a self-made stallion. He earned the love of that wonderful Apple mare and he made a fortune on the stocks. He was a captain of industry, revolutionizing orange-powered timekeepers.
And here he was. Made a mockery of. A fool. Because those stone-spitting Pies’ dumb luck. It wasn't his fault. He had ordered the original documents ripped apart. Taken care of. Disposed. Clockwork's eye twitched. It was all supposed to be gone. This would wreck his social image. His stocks would fall. His mind reeled as he realized that every underhanded trick he used to get to the top would be unearthed now. They would find his dirty laundry. His skeletons in the closet. And they would laugh. Laugh like that stupid pink pony did when her little sister presented the original documents. The testimony of that little rat that hadn't shredded the documents. He couldn't stand her laughter.
His eyes forgot how to blink. His face started to stretch back. It was funny, in its own way. Tragically funny. It was all a bit tragic. They farmed rocks. Rocks for Celestia's sake– and they turned a profit! He started to smile. It didn't make sense. Perhaps it never did. Maybe if never would, either. No, to win in this world meant that you had to create your own sense of real. He had tried to do in as best he could within reason, but maybe that was his problem. Reason had no place here, with the rock farms and the little fillies who could take down an entire family with a piece of paper.
He chuckled, the statue of a pony with a blindfold over her eyes taking up his entire vision. His eyes dried, forcing tears to fall uselessly down his face. That was true sense. Everything was blind. Who was to say that somepony couldn't just walk up to her and upset the balance.
His chuckles turned hoarse. He started to laugh.
-----
“I don't feel right about this, Mr. Orange.”
Clockwork spun on his hooves, chuckling under his breath. “Two hundred bits says that doesn't matter, and come tomorrow morning, my ancestry is shown to own the rights to that stupid patch of land.”
Blue Book looked down at the papers his employer had put down in front of him. The fudged documents could hardly be even called that– they looked so official, and properly aged. Wherever Clockwork had gotten this, they were professionals, and as Blue Book knew, that meant they were not to be trifled with. Not by a single pony with a desk job. “T-two hundred bits. But, sir, doesn't a family live on that land?”
“That's really no concern of mine. Or of yours.”
“But—“
Clockwork gave him a smile. Blue Book said no more. You never, ever argued with a smiling Orange. “Y-yes sir. I mean no sir! No concerns. Whatsoever.”
“Good. See to it nopony sees you, or I'll have to find someone better suited for something like this. And maybe less disposable.” Orange closed the door behind him as he left, but he could still hear the pony on the other side gulp loudly. Clockwork smiled even wider.
-----
“I swear! I swear I didn't do anything!” Blue Book screamed, his world had turned upside down in moments, his hooves still clutching the documents to his chest. “I'm just moving these to storage!”
“Storage?” A deep voice grumbled. Without hesitation, a dark hoof raked the papers from Blue Book's grasp. The deskpony whimpered as his mind raced for excuses. If this pony knew anything about what they were holding, then he was done for. Caught in the act. Red hoofed. Which really clashed with his blue color scheme. “These are land rights. Made out to the Pie Family. That's the case currently being argued in Ponyville.” Silence.
Blue Book was certainly happy he had relieved himself prior to being accosted, less he had wet his bonds by now. “I-I-I-I—“
“The Oranges claim to own that land through ancestral claims. But this says different. Why would somepony like you have access to something like this.”
“I don't know! I don't!”
“I don't believe you. Do you know what happens to ponies who lie to me?”
Blue Book wanted to cry. So he did. “OooohhhhooooooCelestia whhhy, I swear I didn't mean for this to happen!”
“For what, speak slowly. You might walk out of this unharmed...”
He sniffled loudly, then looked at the ground for inspiration. Or more for the fact the blood that was rushing to his head had become too heavy to try and hold up anymore. “Well, it all started when Clockwork Orange came into my work near closing hours...”
-----
Inkie Pie stared up at the large blue stallion before her. Despite his height, he was really quite gangly, a rare sight for an Earth Pony. “Sir?”
“Look, I don't have a lot to say, but, um.” Blue Book coughed. This investigative little filly stared up at him with big, amethyst eyes and bored into him. There was no way he could hold back on this now. Besides, if he didn't then... then that masked vigilante might come back. “I have these papers...”
-----
“And then Inkie came in with these papers and saved the day! It was stupendously awesome!” Pinkie shouted, her smile breaking the normal limits of what a pony's face could stretch.
Inkie blushed, trying to hide her face behind her hair. “I, I didn't do much, Pinkie. I just got lucky, is all.”
Applejack patted the youngest Pie on the back heartily, giving her a celebratory whoop for effect. “Aw, lookit her, she's so modest. Y'all really did save your family, so why not take a little credit for it.”
“Yeah sis, if it weren't for you and that Blue Book guy, we'd be homeless!” Blinkie said, taking a long drag of cider. Her face twitched a little from the taste, somewhere in-between extreme ecstasy and thoughtful deliberation. “Take some pride in it! And some Cider. Hey AJ, can I get another glass?”
“Sure thing, sugarcube.”
Inkie smiled as the gathered ponies laughed and celebrated, allowing herself a small smile as the ponies continued to play.
-----
Clockwork Orange stood over the toppled statue, the stone knife the mare had held clamped firmly in his jaws. He was still laughing. The dust and dirt from the crumbled statue stung his eyes, but he refused to blink. He looked toward the door. Covered in white dust from the broken statue, he cantered towards the setting sun, burning his retinas as he passed through the door.
-----
As night fell, Inkie looked over to where her sisters were sleeping. Blinkie had her muzzle stuck in her pillow, muffling any snores she might have been making, but Pinkie had her mouth open wide, her snores shaking the cookie jars on the nearby shelf. But Inkie wasn't in bed.
Behind her mask, the protector of the night gave her sisters one last parting look, before bounding off into the inky blackness.