-Prologue-
You'd think life as a colorful equine could be easy, all cupcakes and friendship right? No, not for a pony livin' on these dirty streets. Maybe it's like that for those nose wagglin' pompous ponies up in Canterlot with their fancy palaces, magnificent gardens and other wastes of time. Not down here though. All the scum from Canterlot has to wash down somewhere. That somewhere is Ponyville. It used to be a nice place you know, with nice houses and polite people, people who wouldn't kill you for lookin' at 'em wrong. The lights all around, bright ones everywhere. Blaring neon's showing you the gambling joints, whore houses and sweat shops. All them lights really only serve one purpose, to make the shadows that much darker, to distract you before you get pulled into an alley and robbed... or worse.
With the Royal Guard bustin' down all the speakeasies and ignoring the real problems in the city, the crime lords are getting out of control and are getting angry about losing that expensive liquor. With my friend Applejacks distillery gettin' torn apart by some crime lord because of competition, it's gettin' to me too.
Part 1, Questions and Rumblings
I went to see my main mare Twilight Sparkle, one of the best informants a pony detective could ask for, being connected to all the major officials and even the Royal Princesses and all. She could find any crack in a crime lords defense, dig up any dirt on any official, she could do anything. Only problem is that for one of the greatest minds of our age, she's always askin' me stupid questions. You know what she likes to ask me? She asks me all the friggin' time,
"Pinkie, are you happy?" and I have to tell Twilight every time,
"Happy? Happy! First of all, call me Pink and second, I am fan-freaking-tastic! No, Twilight, I'm not happy. Our days of saving the world with the power of friendship are over. If I could do anything to make those days come back, Twilight, I would. I'd even quit drinkin' if it meant we could go back. You know what does make me happy Twilight Sparkle? The crumpled cigarette dangling from the corner of my lips, the warm flask on my side and my Walther P38 in the holster. Those things, Twilight, are what make me happy in this dirty city. Until you find the 'Clean Up Ponyville Scum Spell' in one of your dusty old books, I'm going to have a drink or three. A drink to remember the good times and two more to forget what's happening now. Now and forever."
I left Twilights tree house library and went to my private office. It was a small government office next door to the Ponyville police station with old wood paneled walls and older musty, blue carpet floors and a wobbly ceiling fan that looked ready to fall on an unsuspecting pony if you shut the creaky door too hard. It ain't luxiourous, but it's like a second home to me. I have spent many nights kicked back in my faux leather chair, smoking my cigarette and sipping on coffee while I read police reports and Wonder Bolts magazines. I walked inside and locked the door behind me. As I sit down in my eternally dusty office chair about to pour some stale hard cider down my gullet, the phone rings. I consider letting it ring until whoever was calling gave up but my growling stomach reminded me that I ran out of food a day and a half ago. I pick up the old gray telephone and bring it up to my ear. Turns out it's the last living uncorrupted official in all of Equestria, Mayor Mare. We exchanged hello's and she cut to the chase pretty fast. She told me of a new smuggling ring that has entered Ponyville that's small enough to be snuffed out if I was interested. I let my growling stomach answer that one. She had no leads but a pony like me has a sixth sense about these things and I got Twilight to fill in any gaps once I've got the big picture. I thanked Mayor Mare for putting my life in danger yet again and hung up. Hungry or not, my flask is calling and I'm taking its case right now.
I woke up mid afternoon with my only company being an empty flask, the smell of old cider on my breath, and a nasty hangover. I made my fifty-third promise to Celestia to never drink another ounce of hard cider again and headed down to Ponville square. No time like the present they say. If I wasn't so hungry I would have stayed in my office, hooves propped on my cigarette covered desk. To do list: 1. Find some grub. 2. Look for a first lead. Optional: Get angry and ask Twilight.
Ponyville. Not the place it used to be, not by a long shot. There are a few alright places to go though. Market Square, just a couple of blocks from my office, manages to stay pretty clean, due in large part by the vendors pitching in time after work to fix up the square. A clean market place is a money making market place and that is fine by me. I don't like the idea of garbage and rats touching my food. That's not to say it's spotless but it's alright compared to some other places around the city. If you come in from the north to south road that cuts most of the way through Ponyville, you'll notice the run down town hall. In its former glory, the place could sit two-hundred ponies and have room to spare. Now it's a fancy death trap ready to collapse. The square is made up of three main districts. On the east side district, vendors like Carrot Top, Applejack and the Cakes sell food and other edible items. On the west side, merchants like Mister Breezy, Filthy Rich and Nurse Red Heart sell tools, practice medicine, or sell household necessities and luxuries. In the south side district, you can find some nicer shops and the most expensive real estate in Ponyville. The rich but not quite rich enough to live in Canterlot live here. They, behind the crime lords of course, rule the city. In the very center of the square, there is a relic that somehow didn't get mutilated or destroyed by thugs, the Ponyville fountain. I'm not going to be gushy and say it's some sort of symbol of hope but it is nice to see something not broken, ruined or defiled.
As I walked through the bustling streets, I saw a couple of street urchins running around the square being shooed away by pony merchants. Seeing those little, dirt covered fillies and colts running around so happy and laughing together reminded me of those three fillies that would run around with the red capes, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, if I recall correctly, which I normally do. They're still so young, it makes you wonder how they are taking to these wretched changes. I wonder if they ever found their cutie marks? If they did, I just hope it's not a cutie mark in bootlegging or gambling. Those fillies are tough though, if they can survive a thirty foot drop while trying to get their sky lining cutie mark with less than a scratch, they can take on anything together and even if they can't, they got the help of their sisters and Auntie Pinkie Pie. Even Rainbow Dash would lend a hoof to Scootaloo and her friends. I'll always worry about them though. They bring memories of me living on the rock farm with my two sisters, Inky and Blinky Pie. Did their hair ever poof out like mine? After this case, I'm going to check up on Ma and Pa and the sisters.
Looky there, Applebloom and her big sister Applejack have set up a cart in the square. Hold on a second, I know what days she comes to market, in fact I know what days everypony, buyer or seller comes to market, she shouldn't be here, and not many things can make a stubborn farm pony change their ways, even something as seemingly small as this. Let's see what this is all about. While I'm at it, I need some grub and some hard cider while I'm there. Maybe today is my lucky day! I can't remember the last one of those I had, even with my freakishly good memory.