The stallion parks his carriage outside of the house on the other side of the road. He exits, then slowly looks around the neighbourhood, attempting to spot any onlookers. Unfortunately for him, Dateline NBC’s cameras are securely hidden. He walks over to the house, carrying with him saddlebags topped only with apples. He waits at the doorstop for a short while before ringing the doorbell.
Our decoy responds. “Come on in. The door’s unlocked.”
The stallion enters the house and begins to make himself comfortable.
“I’ll be out in a minute. Take a look around while you wait.”
“I’ll just wait in here, then,” he calls back to her. He sits down at the kitchen counter and begins taking a look around. He almost spots one of our hidden cameras, located inside of a fruit bowl. He gets off his stool and walks over to the bowl to inspect it further, but fails to convince himself that anything is amiss and returns to waiting for our decoy to finish.
We have our decoy prompt him again. “I’ve got a spa outside if you... wanna get comfortable.”
“Okay...”
He appears uneasy toward the suggestion at first, but then begins making his way into the backyard. He fumbles at the door as he tries to get outside. He appears relieved at the success of the door finally opening. Once outside, he takes another look around to try and spot any suspicious activity. Again, he fails to spot Dateline’s well-hidden cameras. He stands beside the pulsating spa and contemplates removing his saddlebags. He spends a short time looking into the water before deciding to walk back inside. He heads straight for the room where our decoy is located. He opens the door and enters the room:—
The decoy jumps in shock at the intrusion. “Oh! I didn’t realise you were coming in. You should have knocked or said something first.”
The situation is very dangerous; however, our decoys are trained for dealing with predators. If we were to interfere at this moment, the decoy might end up getting injured.
“Silver Spoon?! I didn’t rea—no, never mind.”
The decoy attempts to lead him out of the room and back into the open kitchen area. She giggles. “If you really want to get started so soon... my parent’s bedroom is on the other side of the house.” She bristles past him and out of the room, into the safety of the kitchen. He follows behind her.
The decoy leads him into what he thinks is the parent’s bedroom. Once they are both inside, Chris Hoofsen emerges from a nearby closet. “Hi, how are you doing.” The decoy quickly leaves the scene. “Why don’t you take a seat over there.”
The stallion becomes submissive and obliges, sitting down by the table. He takes a few scattered looks around the room, but says nothing.
“What are you doing here?”
“I... I’m just here to meet someone.”
“And what were you planning to do?”
“Just, you know, talk.”
He may say he only wishes to talk, but the conversation we had earlier with him says otherwise.
Bigapples118: how tight are you?
aleska27: well ive not done it before
Bigapples118: lets not keep it that way
He then sends us multiple photos of his genitals and says:—
Bigapples118: they dont call me big for nothin
“And how old is she?”
“I... I dunno, nineteen... maybe eighteen. I think she said eighteen.”
“I’ve got transcripts here that say you knew otherwise. Your screen name is Big Apples one-one-eight, yes?”
The stallion hesitates to answer. “...Yes.”
“You say, ‘How old are you?’ She responds, ‘I’m thirteen, but I matured early. I was the first in my class to get my cutie-mark.’ ”
“I... I was just coming over to talk.”
“The conversation continues. You say, ‘I like the small fillies. They go so well with my enormous . . . .’ She asks, ‘Will it hurt?’ And you respond, ‘Don’t worry. I’ve done it before.’ ”
Not only is the intention clear, but he admits to this being a repeated offense.
“That was just online... online chat. I would never—”
“What’s in the saddlebags?”
“Apples.”
“Anything else?”
“Apple accessories.”
“Do you mind if I take a look?”
The stallion doesn’t respond.
“Not cooperating is only going to make this worse for you.”
“Are... are you with the guard?”
“No, but there are some outside if you’d rather talk to them.”
The stallion gives a defeated look, but continues his silence.
“So are you going to let me look inside the bags?”
The stallion sighs and lifts the bags off his shoulders. Chris searches through them, pulling out numerous apples along the way.
“A box of chocolates.”
The stallion remains silent.
“Cheap wine.”
The stallion moves to say something, but then decides otherwise.
“A small, beaten filly’s-toy.”
“That’s a friend’s.”
“Condoms.”
“Th... those were for something else. I was going out later to—”
“What’s this?” Chris holds out a large apparatus with multiple straps and fasteners that appears to fit two ponies. “It’s got a label on it: Auto-Mounter two-thousand. Do you have anything to say about this?”
The stallion hangs his head. He realises there’s no way out. “I... am I going to prison?”
“Do you recognise this place?”
“No, not really.”
“This is Celestia’s beach house. You’re going to the moon.”