“Could you repeat that again... slowly?” Rets muttered, blinking like a brain-dead deer caught in the headlights.
“Er,” Applejack said, turning to the tan unicorn. “Who are y’all supposed to be?”
“Retsamoreh, ma’am. And, well, I’m the reason we’re called Private Investigators,” Rets groused, rolling his eyes, “and not showponies. No offense, Merlin.”
“None taken, Scooby,” the second unicorn replied, straightening his pointed hat and trying to ignore the sprinkle of golden dust that came off it. Applejack looked between the two of them, brow raised in the classic facial expression of somepony unable to tell the difference between an in-joke and common stupidity and always guessing the former. “But he does have a point, we need more information than just ‘you think they were ponynapped’, no matter how little.”
“Pissfer!” Rets called back, and the third and final unicorn looked up from his spot on the couch. “Toss me that notebook, would you?” He looked frantically around the seat, before magically flinging the thick pad at its owner, whom it immediately hit the face of and hit the floor with an unimaginative plopping noise.
“Merlin?” Applejack mouthed, scrunching her nose up at Laichonious.
“Nice catch,” Pissfer said, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a slight smirk.
“Thank you,” grumbled Rets, rubbing the bridge of his snout. He lifted up the pad with his own pale-blue aura, staring intently at the farm mare. “Now, Laich, if you can go pack up the rest of the crime-scene investigation kit I scrounged up, that would be great.”
“Ah, well, the name Merlin actually is a latinization of a Gaelic name, originally ‘Merlyn’ with a y instead of an i,” Laichonious said, eyes closed blissfully.
“Laicho,” Rets said, narrowing his eyes.
“It was changed mostly due to meddling Romans, as a matter of fact. His full name was Myriddin Emrys, but apparently the first name sounded a bit too much like Latin for ‘dung heap’, so they changed it to preserve the stature of the wizard. It’s also a type of hawk in the Scottish Highlands.”
“Oi, Mr. Dung Heap, the things, will you?” Rets asked, prodding his friend with a hoof. Laich’s eyes glowered, but he nonetheless trotted off, all scholarly pride vanishing in one pathetic instant. “Right then. Let’s do this.”
“Scooby?” Applejack chortled dryly.
“It’s a famous dog in my culture, and it’s not a nickname you’re allowed to use, alright?” the detective ordered, flipping to a blank page and steadying the pen. “Now, start from the beginning. Why are you visiting your aunt and uncle Orange at this time of year?”
“Well, er,” Applejack started, eyes glued on Laichonious as he rifled through a cabinet in the background. “As a matter a fact, I ain’t out here specifically for them. Princess Celestia invited Twilight and her best friends out to some fancy-hooplah concert happening sometime soon, and I figured I’d just head out early to spend some time with my aunt.”
“How many evidence bags do I take again?” Laich called from the other room.
“Take like twenty, I don’t know. And make sure they’re the labeled ones and not just random baggies from the kitchen. Actually, take two or three of the regular baggies too. In case it’s another repeat of the Mrs. Salt case.” He looked to Applejack, shaking his head solemnly. “Nasty mess of a scene, that one was. Cat... er, stuff, everywhere. Long story. So that’s the ‘why’, now for the ‘why not’. As in, ma’am, why didn’t you go to the police?”
“I thought I said I did,” she replied, returning her attention to the interrogation. “I went down to the station and there wasn’t a single pony there ‘sides some overly polite pegasus receptionist fella. Said the whole force cleared out to stop some kinda riot down by the docks.”
“Riot?” Pissfer asked softly, ears swiveling to the two. If they heard him, they didn’t reply.
“And?” Rets asked, pen moving like lightning on the pad; Applejack had to raise her voice over the constant scratching noise.
“Then he told me I’d best go here, since y’all two are capable of handling it for them. When can we get a move on this hay-wagon? I wanna know if they’re okay or not,” she asked, looking anxiously at the door. Retsamoreh frowned.
“Afraid not. There’s still info I need and Laicho’s not done packing. How did you come by the knowledge that they were missing?”
“Well, for one, they weren’t answering their apartment door, even though I know they’ve always got some sorta note on it, letting their friends know where they are, and I know they knew I was coming straight there - told ‘em so in my letter. Reckoned maybe they’d gone out and just forgot, so I asked around. Nopony’s seen a lick of them all day, and maybe there’s nothing to worry about and they’re just out at a party, but I ain’t gonna sit around if they might be hurt.”
“Right, one last question. Why in Celestia’s wonderfully scrumptious name did you come to us?”
“Err,” Applejack muttered, glancing sheepishly from side to side. “Cause you folks were the only ones the receptionist gave me directions to? Why?”
“We find cats. That is literally all we do.”
“Well cat’s can’t be too different from ponies, right? ‘Sides the obvious, I reckon.”
“Uh, fine. Good point, I guess. Now, they’re in sort of a penthouse, right? The apartment on Horsey Street?”
“Yup. How’d you know?”
“Cats,” Rets said quickly, flipping to a new page. He peeked over the notepad to catch Applejack’s deadpan expression, and chuckled like a foal with his hoof caught in the cookie jar. “I just told you that’s what we’ve been doing for the last couple weeks, alright? Focus on the now, ma’am, please. Also, we charge by the hour-” he said, interrupted by his own strangled yelp as a heavy pair of saddlebags landed on him.
“We are not charging her for this,” Laich grunted, fastening his own pair with some magic. “Done packing, by the way.”
“That’s nice,” Rets hissed, “but we kind of desperately need money right now. And holy Celestia what did you put in this bag? Bricks?”
“Yup. I thought it would be fun payback for the dung heap comment,” Laichonious replied dully, moving to face Applejack. “You don’t have to pay if you don’t want to, Miss Applejack. We’re a business, sure, but this one’s on us. Feel free to lead the way. Pissfer, you coming?”
“To see you guys investigate a crime scene?” the light blue unicorn asked, slowly raising his eyebrows. “Why not? It’ll be just like that one thing three years ago, except probably worse now that you have magic. I’ll have to pick up the-”
“We don’t talk about that day, Pissfer,” Rets blurted out, eye twitching. “Ever. You signed a contract.”
“Er, I can pay. I run a business too, you know,” Applejack said bluntly, looking awkwardly at the three. “I can pay, no hard feelings, either, and I reckon my aunt and uncle would be a’might pleased if’n they were ponynapped. I’m sure they’d give you some form of reward. Now can we get a move on?”
“Right. Right. Lives may hang in the balance and all that jazz. Did you say reward?” Retsamoreh asked, eyes widening. “Well then, not that that fact changes anything... I’m sorry, we’re just in a tight spot, financially. We’re going to do what we can to help. Laich, mate, lemme double check your pack. Read off your list, will ‘ya?” He turned toward his friend and lifted open both saddlebag clasps with his magic, peering deep inside.
“Chalk, gouger, and wood sticks?” he asked, procuring a small list that looked like it had been ripped painfully from the notepad some time earlier.
“Triple check.”
“String, mirror, experimental makina?”
“Check, check, and what? Is that the sort of cube thing that looks like an insane chinese puzzle box, and, er it’s got a compass on top?” the detective asked, prodding something in the pack. Laich huffed, frowning and glaring at his companion.
“Yup. It’s a delicate instrument and no touchy. And no, you don’t get to know what it does, dude.”
“Neener neener. Check.”
“And the last two: rune tiles, towel.”
“Check and again, what? We’re not hitchhikers, and it hardly makes sense edgewise.”
“Hey... towels are useful.”
Rets gaped, eye twitching as he observed further. “Did you bring that thing all the way from Canterlot, too? I recognize the design,” Retsamoreh asked, leaning back, shaking his head. Laich didn’t answer, shuffling his hooves awkwardly and instead staring at the ground. “Nevermind, just do mine now.” Agreeing, the red unicorn opened his friend’s pack while the latter summoned his own list, floating precariously in the air as Applejack watched on, both her and Pissfer wearing tired scowls. “First off. Our licenses ‘re’-printed and given to us by the ever generous Manehattan Police Department?”
“Check. It’d be pretty awesome if we got badges too, dude.”
“When we have the money, maybe. Dusting kit, measuring tape, scissors?”
“Check, yes, got it. Why don’t you bring a towel too?”
“Shush. Small paper baggies, large envelopes, black marker?”
“All there, can we go now? I don’t want to leave Applejack and Pissfer waiting.”
“Sunglasses and flashlights?”
“Yes, yes, now let’s...” Laichonious stopped, taking a look around the room that currently contained only him and Retsamoreh. Eyes wide, the two immediately scanned all four corners, desperately spinning in circles until their eyes spun in their heads. The door was open, though, and two voices drifted down the hall and into their discombobulated ears.
“No offense, Pissfer, but it seems a mite rude to leave your friends like that.”
“Oh, trust me. They’ll catch up. They always do.”
Melancholy Manehattan rain poured lazily from the dark clouds overhead, underlit by the city itself. Applejack and Pissfer walked, rather cozily in Laich’s opinion, under their only umbrella a few sections of concrete ahead of him and Rets. The red unicorn didn’t quite understand why Rets thought the rain was from a bad noir movie. It would only be bad if there weren’t any rain in it, ever. The point was, and not the one protruding from his forehead--that it should be mentioned still gave him little thrills to see even after over a year as a pony--that rain, no matter what movie it was from, was wet. At the moment, he held a simple telekinesis spell over him and the tan detective. The only thing harder than keeping it up was convincing Rets to share the load.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun, just a trade-off alright?” The red unicorn put on what he thought was his best puppy-dog face.
Rets paid it no mind. “Nah, dude. I’ll bungle it. It’ll slip and then explode or something,” he said in much the same way that a train car detached from the rest of the train, slowly and with no feeling.
The runemaster sighed. “You seriously aren’t going to make me do all the work are you? I mean, we only have one umbrella and Applejack is using it.”
“Pissfer too...” Rets mumbled.
“Nevermind him,” Laich said waving a hoof, which was a mistake, as he just about acquainted himself with the sidewalk. The red unicorn recovered from his lapse in judgement with as much poise as he could. “Look, I can help you get better. Hm? Doesn’t that sound nice? Who knows, this could be the first step down the road that will lead you to your cutie mark.” He waited expectantly for the indignant reply that almost always followed any mention of cutie marks.
The tan pony shrugged under his brown felt fedora.
Fine, if that’s how he wanted to play. Laichonious delved into his quickly diminishing stack of tricks. Perhaps a simple plea. “I’m not gonna hold up the sky all the way to the Orange’s suite, dude. I’ll pass out by the time we make it to the high rises.”
“Listen, Laich, if it’s really that hard, just let it go. We can take a little rain. ‘Sides, I’m not that great with magic, you know that.” Rets’ attention wasn’t on the conversation. Laich would like to say that he knew this because he could read the tone of the tan detective’s voice or that it was denoted by the lack of a biting or sarcastic remark. In reality, it was because he was staring awfully hard at the tangerine mare ahead of them.
The runemaster thought for a second. “Y’know, the amount of energy expended in an average rain storm is a hundred times that of the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima.”
Rets’ head whipped around to the red unicorn so fast, he almost left the fedora behind. “What does that have to do with the sodding tea in China?”
“You mean the cup or the country? Danget Rets, this is why we can’t have nice things.”
The nearly cross-eyed expression on his friend’s face was almost worth derailing his argument to get the detective’s attention.
“Look, telekinesis requires you do mental work to influence physical things right? This type of shield spell is simple and not powerful enough to stop anything more forceful than a dime-sized hail stone, but it takes a lot of concentration because there is nothing specific I can concentrate on, ya follow?”
“Are you still going on about your magic umbrella?” The other unicorn snorted and shook his head, returning to his study of Applejack or his glower of Pissfer.
“Yes, I’m still going on about it. This is the perfect opportunity to practice magic, Rets. You’ll never get better if you don’t push yourself, or practice at all. This is just the sort of thing that would help you too. I seem to remember that the only kind of magic you are really good at is Holding anyway so why not give it a try?”
“You think she’s telling the truth?” Rets muttered.
“What?”
“Do you think she’s telling the truth?”
“You are not allowed to change the subject,” the red unicorn mumbled as he adjusted the shape of his shield.
“You just changed it a second ago, it’s my turn. Seriously though, do you think she’s telling the truth?”
Laich tossed his head in slight annoyance, showering the wet sidewalk with golden flakes from his hat that glittered in the light of the gas street lamps. “Rets, she’s Applejack. She doesn’t lie. If she told me pigs were flying, I would take her word on it and then hide.”
“Huh? Why would you hide? I’d want to see the pigs fly, personally.”
“‘Cuz that would mean Discord was back. Spit it out, dude. Why do yah think she’s fibbing?”
The tan unicorn shrugged. “I dunno, it just that this whole thing seems real fishy. I mean... I heard, well read, that they’re still lookin’ for changelings hiding out in Equestria. What if she’s one of them...”
Laichonious strangled a sigh that tried to escape from his throat and instead took a deep breath. “Let’s think about this logically, okay? What do you feel when she talks to you? What do you see when you look into her eyes?”
“That it’s too good to be true.”
It was the red unicorn’s turn to shrug. “A side-effect of being in the land of your dreams. But seriously, she just feels... right. C’mon you gotta agree with that.”
“You know I’m not all in tune with your touchy-feely magic, Laicho,” the detective droned.
“Okay, but the show--”
“Was a show, man. How much can we place on a TV show made in another world--”
“It’s here isn’t it?”
“Well yeah but--”
“The show was spot on. Applejack is Applejack, I’m a unicorn and rain is wet.”
“Why do you say it like that?” the other pony asked, furrowing his brow at the runemaster.
“Because it’s all true. Don’t worry about it,” Laich quipped. “Moreover, what would a changeling get out of leading us on a wild goose chase anyway?”
Ret’s glared at Laich from the corner of his eye. “A lot,” he forced the two words through his lips with a heaping helping of sarcasm, mysticism and perhaps ten other words that use ism as a suffix.
Six sections of concrete ahead of the brewing conspiracy theories under Laich’s rain shield, Pissfer tried his best to act as casually as he could in the immediate presence of Applejack. They were already a block away from the office apartment and he hadn’t figured out a way to strike up a conversation with her. Rain undulated in the halos of the street lamps, shifting on the slight breeze. He made sure to glance behind every once-in-a-while, keeping tabs on his friends. A sniff brought his attention back to the tangerine mare walking next to him. It was strange to think that Applejack ever cried. Though it was understandable to react emotionally to something as sudden and traumatic as having relatives ponynapped. If he remembered correctly, and he usually did, the first forty-eight hours after a ‘napping were the most crucial. If they were to get any vital information or help from Applejack, he had to keep her calm somehow.
“Umm,” he began, then rolled his eyes at himself. Great way to start a soothing conversation. “So, Miss Applejack, how have things been at Sweet Apple Acres?” It took every shred of his self control to not hit himself in the face. Sure, create a soothing conversation by doing two of the top things on the list of what not to do: 1. Mention work 2. Talk about home, from which she was very far away, and family to boot.
Despite his apparent lack of picking a good topic, Applejack perked up immediately. “Oh, things have been gettin’ along just fine. I don’t think Ah’ve ever seen the farm so productive.” The transformation from slumped and worried to chipper and happy was pretty alarming.
“Ah, well... that’s good to hear. Have you been getting a lot of help from relatives and the like?” A list of potential conversation sustaining questions and topics started scrolling through his brain. Maybe just keeping her from dwelling on the unknown status of her aunt and uncle would be enough to keep her spirits up.
The farm filly shook her head. “Nope, we’ve been employin’ some of yer kin, actually.”
“You mean other bronies?”
“The very same. It took some gettin’ used to, but once yah overlook their quirks, they’re right nice ponies. Very helpful.”
“You don’t say,” Pissfer said with a knowing smile.
“Hehe, well, they were just so happy ta be workin’ on a farm, or more specifically my farm, that I was a little weirded out at first. I mean, they would do any little thing Ah asked ‘em to and they were overjoyed ta be doin’ it. They’ve mellowed out some since then, a’course, but they’re still silly from time to time. Oh my, yah wouldn’t believe the ruckus Apple Bloom caused when she came back for summer break!” She shook her head with a rueful but hearty laugh. “Took ‘em three days ta calm down. ‘Course, by then Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo showed up and nothin’ else got done for the rest of the week.” She whistled softly, a short, rapidly descending tone that made Pissfer’s ears twitch and a smile break on his face.
“Haha, well it’s good to hear about some bronies finding a place to settle down.” He said it with a glance at her, trying to convey it as more of a question that needed elaborating.
If Applejack ever picked up on his intentions, he would never know, but she took the cue and nodded. “Eeyup, everypony has a right ta belong someplace. I’m happy ta be part of what makes so many o’them fellas happy. Truth be told, Ah’m out here ‘cuz of them. They’ve been managin’ the farm so well with Big Mac that they decided Ah needed a vacation!” She chortled in her throat. “I never would’a thought it, me, takin’ a vacation. Adventurin’ doesn’t count, y’know....” AJ slipped into silence.
Pissfer tried to read her face to see if she needed, or rather wanted, any help out of it. She saved him from admitting defeat in that endeavor by turning to him with an open expression.
“I s’pose this could be an adventure type thing now too, huh?” she asked, a weak smile on her face.
The powder-electric blue unicorn tried to give her a stronger one in return. By the stretching in his cheeks, he figured it could have lifted at least five pounds. “Don’t worry, Miss Applejack. We dealt with kidnappings all the time on Earth. Your aunt and uncle are fine. We’ll find them.” He hoped he wasn’t lying.
“Blimey. This entire place sounds abandoned,” Retsamoreh whispered, his voice echoing down the lonely stairwell. The only other sounds resounding in the building were the labored breaths of all but Applejack. “And... elevator didn’t work, of course. I wish we could’ve just skipped the stairs and teleported or something. You can do that, right?”
The faux detective spun around, observing what he could see with careful, exhausted scrutiny. On the outside, the apartment building that contained the Orange’s penthouse suite looked just like the other buildings, but on the inside it looked as if somepony had switched out the regular interior with a five-star Grand Hotel. Everything was fabulous, and usually tinted orange; everything except, the group noted, the stairwell hidden so far in the back that an errant bellcolt had to lead them there upon request.
“I’m not that good, and neither is Laichonious, unfortunately. Levitation or bust, with me,” the light blue unicorn said. He cocked his head. “I’ve been focusing on Blinking and Folding recently, but at the moment, Levitation is the only spell I’ve gotten really good at.” The khaki unicorn huffed, pushing his fedora further onto his head.
“We need the exercise, dude,” Laichonious said, bending down into a stretch. The obnoxious pointed hat on his head tilted dangerously to the side, spilling gold dust onto the concrete floor. Sighing, he looked at the only unphased pony in the group, Applejack, who continued to taunt them by not being exhausted. “Well, most of us.”
“Y’all stopped for breaks like five times. Ain’t my fault.” The farm mare shrugged, adjusting her own hat.
“Country ponies,” Rets groused.
“City ponies,” Applejack chuckled, nodding at the door. “This is the floor, fellas. I’ve made this trip three times today, so I know it by heart, I reckon.” She stepped lightly to the door, hooves clipping the ground in rebounding retorts that circled the group.
“Was the place this empty when you checked on the Oranges earlier?” Rets asked, moving toward the door first. The rest of the group rallied behind Applejack, who let him pass. “Because other than the staff, I didn’t see a single pony.”
“Just coincidence? I mean, it could be, since it’s night-time after all.” Laichonious offered.
“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not after I became a unicorn and then went to a universe that wasn’t supposed to exist. I... oh, wait, it is night, isn’t it? That explains that.” He huffed, and pushed open the door with a rusty, whiny squeal and revealed the penthouse hallway. “What number are they, again? I’m terrible with numbers,” he asked, looking back to Applejack.
“Err, Rets,” Pissfer whispered.
“Well I’m sorry, but I have to write things down a bunch to memorize them properly,” Rets retorted, scrunching up his face.
“There’s one door, sugarcube.” Applejack grinned, leaving the self-proclaimed detective in the metaphorical dust as she trotted past him and down the hall. Pissfer followed, a smug grin flashing across his face for the slightest of seconds.
“You tried, dude,” the scholar said, patting the stunned unicorn on the back as he passed.
Wordlessly, the group crossed the long hallway. It was filled unashamedly with mirrors that had orange frames. Each one they passed gave them just a small view into an infinity of possibilities that all contained orange mirror frames and orange wallpaper. Where there weren’t mirrors, there hung a painting of an orange - or something at least tangentially related to the fruit or color.
“I bloody hate oranges,” Retsamoreh suddenly said. “I mean, not usually, but I can’t imagine living here. Sodding eyesore.”
“Door’s locked,” Pissfer said, his magical aura disspating from the handle. “I am not kicking it down.”
“Can’t say I want to either,” Rets added, sighing. He stepped up to the door, holding a forehoof to it and smacking it in a frantic beat. “This is Investigator Retsamoreh, I’m with the Manehattan Police Department. It’s been reported that the occupants of this apartment are missing. If you’re not, uh, come to the door, please. We’ll be forced to enter if you don’t.”
The red unicorn stepped forward, stretching his back legs out one at a time. “I’ll do it.”
“Or,” Rets muttered, looking at the fourth member of their party, “we can enter with style.”
All over Equestria, also known as any place an Apple family member is, there are ponies who have mastered the art of apple bucking. Typical of their kin, the strongest among them fully well knew that if they wanted to, they could buck a tree straight in half. A wall, even a fancy one, wouldn’t be any match for them. A door would be a joke, and not even the good kind. The key, every Apple knew, was not to go for brute strength, but in delicacy; it was to buck the tree just so that it sustained no damage, and all of the kinetic energy whatsits were transferred up the trunk, through the branches, and into the apple stems. Said apples would fall harmlessly down, and the tree wouldn’t even know it happened.
A loud thump resounded from the door leading to the inside of the apartment. The undeniably fancy and expensive paintings on the orange wallpaper didn’t budge, and the hanging wire-lamp that appeared to cost more than all of the paintings combined refused to sway.
The door clicked.
“Well?” a muffled voice asked from the other side.
“You didn’t really kick it down,” another added.
“Course I didn’t. I ain’t gonna damage my auntie and uncle’s door, even if they’re in danger. When we find ‘em I think they’d like to know everything was as normal as it ever was.”
“So how are we going to get in?”
“Err, y’all could try opening the door.”
“It’s...” The handle on the door turned, slowly, and a second later the door was thrown back with alarming force. Three stunned ponies and one smug mare were behind it. “It is.”
“I don’t think I’m going to question this,” Retsamoreh muttered, sticking his head through the doorway. “Right. Lights are off. Nopony go in just yet.”
“Why not? It looks perfectly safe. Unless there’s a high-tier magical booby-trap,” Pissfer asked.
“In that case, I’ll go first. You poor fellas seem a lot more fragile than I am.”
“No, because it’s illegal. Or at least it usually is. We have to secure the perimeter first.”
“The perimeter is a doorway. Just lock it behind us,” Laich deadpanned, trotting past the fedora-topped unicorn and into the dim apartment. “See? No booby trap. Now let’s get looking for clues.”
“It shouldn’t work like this,” Rets hissed, nevertheless leading the rest of their ragtag CSI team into the room. “Just. Don’t touch anything. There’s a specific way to do a crime scene sweep. We have to work from the outside, that’s nearest to the walls, to the middle of the room. First, let’s turn on the lights. Pissfer?”
“On it,” the unicorn said, searching for the light switch. A moment later and the decorative apartment was awash in the glow of the overhead lamps. With the dark evening sky behind the windows, it gave off an eerie feeling. Worse, the place was in a state of disarray that could only be accurately described as “trashed”. Shadows of torn apart chairs danced across the wall as one of the lamps swung, and a shattered glass table sparkled in the light.
“I think there was a fight,” Rets announced.
“Gee,” Laich said. “I wonder how you came to that conclusion.” He chuckled, stepping over to one of the broken chairs. Leaning down to stare at it inquisitively, he poked at it with a hoof. “This place is tot-”
“No! No no no no!” Rets shouted, smacking his arm away. “What did I say about touching the crime scene just like, ten seconds ago? Just be quiet for a minute and let me try and deduce what happened here. Pissfer, stand guard at the door. We can’t allow anyone else in here. Now... to think.” He shooed the other unicorn to the other side of the room, taking a long look at destruction spread out before them.
The rooms, which consisted of the kitchen and den, were separated only by a thin open counter, and the majority of the damage was contained beyond the kitchen. The center of the scene was the broken glass table, two overturned chairs on one side, and two upright on the opposite end. Rets leaned in, eyes narrowing at the broken table until he felt satisfied it had been scrutinized properly.
Stepping lightly around gleaming shards of thick glass, the fedora-topped unicorn made his way to the hallway door, where two paintings had been knocked off the wall and splintered across the floor. He sighed, looking at the door for a long while, and turned to the others with a deep frown on his face.
“I know what happened,” he said simply. “They were pony-napped, alright. Two earth ponies and one pegasus did it, and all of them were ponies the Oranges knew and trusted. Chances are they were pretty surprised, too. I doubt the fight lasted longer than a minute.”
“And, er, how exactly can you tell all that? Ya just looked around for a couple a seconds,” Applejack said, raising an eyebrow and standing next to him.
“Yeah, I’m with her. That sounds a bit far-fetched,” Pissfer called from the front door, rubbing his forehead. “How does that logic even work?”
“Simple.” Rets walked over to the smashed table and chairs, gesturing to the two upturned chairs. “That’s where the oranges were sitting. All of this happened pretty late at night, and their guests were obviously good friends, so they set up some glasses of... looks like white wine, couple chairs, and partook in a discussion they probably didn’t think would last very long. In the middle of it, they were betrayed. I could still be wrong about the unicorn thing.”
“Whoa, wait. How do you know what types of ponies were there and whether or not they were drinking wine?” Laich asked, standing next to Applejack and shaking his head.
“There’s five wine glasses smashed to bits in the middle of that table, and wine-smelling stains to boot. Three are on the side with the upright chairs, and two are on the other side. There’s a green feather over there,” Rets replied, pointing to the door. “As for the other two possible suspects, I’m just guessing on their race. I don’t have a spell to detect magic, but I know at least one of them was probably an earth pony, judging from the holes punched in those paintings, and the wall. One of the Oranges wasn’t captured in the initial attack, so they tried to run into the hallway. Why they didn’t run for the front door is beyond me, though. The earth pony in the group charged him or her and bucked the wall twice, missing the intended target, possibly, meaning there might be some prints we can get. I’m guessing it was Mrs. Orange, went for the door here but got caught before she could open it.” He stopped, nodding at the door and looking at the indentions in the carpet.
“Then she was dragged across the floor, to the middle of the room. They restrained her there, probably tied her up, and left. This might be just a guess, but I’m thinking they took the service stairs and snuck around back. Were the Oranges fond of throwing late-night parties, Applejack?” he asked, looking up from his daze to the farm mare.
“Heh, yeah. They threw ‘em all the time back when I was a little filly. I always had to go bed early, ‘fore they ended, though.”
“Did they have any servants you know of?”
“They mostly just hired caterers, but there was one stallion that they said they always hired for these kinds of things. ‘Twas a long time ago, though, so I can’t say I remember his name or if he even works for ‘em anymore.” Sighing deeply, she turned to look at the carnage. “All of this breaks my heart. What kinda pony just ups and takes another from their home like this? I’ve seen lots of crazy stuff, lots of bad stuff, but nothing just as outright deplorable as this here scene.”
“Lucky for you, we’re used to it. We’ll find the Oranges, Miss Applejack. We already know we’re looking for a green pegasus, with two mystery suspects. If we hurry back to the police station and whatever was up with those riots is over, we can get them to properly analyze the scene and take over. As much as I want to dig around, actually, this is a job for real police, not consultants like us. We can do some digging of our own, looking for suspects and leads, but otherwise it’ll be up to them. Our standard hourly fee is-”
“What did I say about asking her to pay, Rets?” Laich snapped, leaning against the kitchen counter with a scowl on his face. “We’re not, and we’re going to do everything in our power to help her. Pissfer, you in?”
“I guess so. The mare’s the honorary D’Artagnan?”
“You bet.”
“What,” Applejack and Rets said at the same time, flicking their ears down and cocking their heads. Freezing, the others stared with blank expressions.
“I can understand AJ not getting it, but we literally just explained it to you today, Rets,” Laich grumbled, shaking his head. “Anyways, I actually do have something that can speed up the process. Remember the cube makina I brought?”
“Um... the rubik’s puzzle with the compass?” Rets asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The one and only!” He yanked the makina device out of his saddlebag and presented it to them with a levitation spell. It spun in a circle, the top needle dragging along the surface as the gravity shifted under it. “It’s a residual magic detector of my own design and creation. I call it...” he took a deep breath, holding it up to the light. “Laich’s Spectro-Sneak!”
“Uh,” Pissfer said, scratching the back of his neck with a forehoof.
“No, no- wait, that sucks. I call it... Laich’s Spectrograph!”
“Spectrographs are already a thing,” Pissfer deadpanned.
“Can you just tell us how the stupid rubik’s cube works and name it after yourself another day?” Rets groaned, nodding to the mess of broken wood and glass a few feet away. “We still have a crime to solve and I’d appreciate it if we did it as fast as possible.” A light blue magic aura snatched the object from the air and levitated it over to the unicorn, who narrowed his eyes. “Just tell me what it does and how it works.”
“Right, well,” Laich said, puffing up his chest, and grinning broadly. “Just set it on the ground there - good. See, dude, what it does is detect magic residue. It’s sort of like a metal-detector, but with traces of magic. All we need to do is push it over to where that fight happened and it can give us a rough estimation of when the last spell was cast in that area. If it doesn’t work, then we can rule out any unicorns. Just, turn it on like so...”
Laichonious leaned over and pointed his horn at the makina, part of his wizard hat tilting to the side and spilling gold dust over the ground. His horn lit up, and a small ring on the side of the cube began to turn. “You give this thing here a quarter-turn to the right. It’s the setting for what it’s going to detect, and it’s not the only setting.”
The ring stopped, but his horn continued to glow; this time a small band of magic formed between his horn and the box, lighting up the runes etched into the sides. “And now comes the fun part! I just open up four leylines into it for power, and bang!” Laich beamed, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. A small tick could be heard from the box. “Hear that, that’s the sound of success.”
“Or the sound of stupid. The needle just hit the other side, Laicho,” Rets said, frowning.
“W-what, why?” the unicorn sputtered, leaning down to stare at the object from a distance - a distance of half a centimeter. “It shouldn’t be doing that!”
“Maybe it’s ‘cause you built a magic-detectin’ device that ran on magic?” Applejack asked, raising an eyebrow. “I ain’t gonna claim to be an expert on magic, but even I know that ain’t right. Hay, it’s still a fancy-lookin’ paperweight, though.”
“It’s only use would be to chuck it at your head. You’re supposed to be a genius or something. How did you not get it right?”
“Dunno,” Laich whispered, his magic stopping. He had reverted to staring blankly at the makina, refusing to break eye contact incase it mocked him further while he wasn’t looking.
“Whatever. I’m going to go check in the other rooms in case pony-napping wasn’t all they were up to. Pissfer, stand guard. Applejack, if you could come with me, I’d prefer some help. Laich... try not to break you face on a wall or something while we’re gone.”
“Hey, I resemble that statement,” Laich said absentmindedly, along the same line of reaction as a rubber hammer to the knee.
Applejack threw a raised eyebrow at Rets, who caught it and shrugged his shoulders instead of returning an answer.
“Er, no offense, but I don’t think Applejack knows what to look for in these types of scenarios. I watched just as many crime-dramas as you have,” Pissfer said, pursing his lips and nodding at Applejack apologetically. “Wouldn’t it be better to have her stand guard?”
Retsamoreh looked between the two with a critical eye, settling on Pissfer. “That’s a stallion’s job, mate. You’re pretty tough.”
“Applejack could literally take on us three and not break a sweat, Rets” Pissfer deadpanned, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, don’t be racist,” Laich helpfully added, now lying on his belly and fiddling with the makina cube with his hooves. Everypony glared at him.
“What’s-” Applejack started.
“Just don’t even ask, please?” Rets asked, smiling apologetically. “Pissfer does have a point, despite his lack of a hat. Don’t make a joke about horns, Laich. I can see your stupid face grinning down there.”
“Wasn’t gonna say anything,” the unicorn mumbled, holding the cube up to his face. “I swear to Celestia.”
“Y’all know what? Fine. I’ll stand guard, consarn it all,” Applejack snapped, marching over to the door. “Whatever speeds this here ‘investigating’ up. I swear to Celestia. My aunt and uncle have been missing for a whole day, and I’ve gotten nowhere closer to finding them!”
The three remaining unicorns looked at each other, and Laichonious’ magical glow retracted from the dysfunctional makina. Pissfer approached the middle of the room, leaving Rets to stand by the hallway door. “She’s right,” Pissfer said, scrunching his muzzle up in defeat. “I know you’re at least trying, Rets, but we really need to get our act together. I’d... personally like to take responsibility for all the goofing off. We used to be sort of a group, hence all of the injokes - we were for years, and then after we all came to Equestria... well I think we drifted apart further than normal. Rets is reverting to his old cynical goofy self, even if he never changed, and Laich is... Laich, and here I am playing peacekeeper slash neutral force. But I can tell you right now that even when goofing off we have a tendency of getting things done the right way, the first time. All I’m asking is that you trust us.”
Applejack sighed, shaking her head wistfully at the tan carpet. “Aw, hayfeathers, y’all remind of back when the girls and I used to have crazy adventures all over Equestria. I guess I can’t really blame you for being a bit silly. Pinkie was worse than all y’all combined. We haven’t even been here ten minutes and you’ve already figured a couple of things out.”
“And for free, apparently,” Rets added, sniffing and waving Pissfer over. “Now if you’ll excuse me. Pissfer, let’s get a move on. Any minute we waste is a minute when the Oranges could be put in danger. We’ll be right back. Laich?”
“Mm?”
“Remember? Face. Wall. No.”
“Uh-huh,” Laichonious muttered, turning back to the task at hand: dismantling his invention with only his eyes. He twirled it around in the air, eyeing each carved rune carefully. Blinking from his trance when the door shut and the departing hoofbeats of his companions faded away, he sighed.
“They seem to treat you a bit like a dull knife, you know,” Applejack said, leaning against the wall and crossing her forehooves. Emerald eyes slowly scanned over the destruction in the room, stopping only at the foreboding overturned chairs.
“Dull knives cut the worst, you know,” he deadpanned, frowning. The makina fell to the floor.
“Pardon?” She turned to face him, brow raised. “Pretty sure that was the point, sugarcube.”
“Nevermind. I know that this whole makina thing must make me look like a complete fool, just remember, I basically invented the things, or at least I rediscovered the art and handed it off to ponies like Princess Luna and Twilight Sparkle so they could make all of the impressive stuff. I, uh, don’t really mind it, Rets and Pissfer keep me humble and I keep them entertained--it’s a win-win thing.”
“Sounds like you’re a bit out of your element out here solving crimes.”
“Ah, um... sort of. It’s a long story, why we’re out here ‘solving crimes,’” he muttered, walking over to place the cube on top of the kitchen countertop. “As for solving crimes, it’s definitely not sitting in a library carving up runes, but believe it or not, crime-solving was considered highly entertaining where I come from. Doesn’t Equestria have fictional crime dramas?”
“Course it does,” AJ replied, walking over to the kitchen counter. “But they ain’t as popular as you might think. Fictional ponies getting hurt and robbed just plain isn’t what real ponies want to read, I guess, even if things turn out alright in the end.”
“Yeah, see, that’s what I’ve always thought about crime dramas on Earth. Y’know, we had plenty of stories that were all too real to go around making up more, in my opinion,” Laich said, levitating the pointed monstrosity atop his head over to the countertop, leaving a pool of gold flecks at the area it rested upon. “That’s why a lot of people became interested in becoming detectives, or CSI dudes, though. Even Rets thought about becoming a forensics something-or-other before we came here.”
“And that’s why he became an investigator out here?” Applejack asked, studying the wizard hat for a moment before turning back to the scholar. “Seems kind of odd, trying to fight crime in a world where there’s barely any - but I s’pose I can’t say that anymore with a straight face, heh. Protecting ponies and dishing out heaping piles of justice sounds like a good enough reason for him, but what’s yours? Why’d you join up with him?”
“Pretty much the same reason,” Laich said instantly, breaking eye contact to look at his hat. “Sort of, I guess. I... yeah... protecting ponies and justice, alright.”
“Something on your mind there, sugarcube?” Applejack asked, tilting her head.
“Nah, it’s nothing, I-” Thump. She and Laichonious looked at the wall where the noise had come from, ears swiveling and stances so alert a startled antelope would be proud. “What was that?”
“Nothing good,” Applejack muttered, straightening her hat and galloping toward the door as more muffled crashes met their ears.
Pissfer groaned, discarded books falling off of his body as he rolled over. He didn’t hear his friend’s hissed pleas to get up and move and run and flee and be anywhere but there. There were too many noises in his head at the moment to listen. Another hoof impacted his side and sent him sliding into the oak desk that was in the middle of the study.
Rets shouted, “Whoa! No, that’s too far, buddy. It’s one thing to just skip the introduction and obligatory one-liner, but it’s another to kick a pony while he’s down. Put your hooves over your head, mate, ‘cause you’re under arrest.”
The mysterious pony looked up, one hoof hovering over Pissfer’s prone form. A white hood covered his face, but there was a sincerely disturbing implication that under that hood was a grin. “You do not have any authority here, friend, so I do not think I will comply with your request. You are, in fact, outnumbered.”
“What?” Rets asked, taking two side-steps over to a fancy carved cane rack. Panicked shouts slipped under the doorway, and the rapid thumping of hoofsteps reached his ears. A blue glow slipped over one of the canes, a fancy black one with an orange-colored diamond pommel, and brandished it in front of him. “I don’t think so.”
“What I meant to imply-” The figure charged forward, crashing into the faux-investigator and ramming them both into a bookcase. Multiple books fell on top of them, but the attacker didn’t even flinch as they hit his back. Gloved hooves pinned him to the shelf with precise ferocity. The cane rolled uselessly away. “-was that you are utterly and completely outmatched by me and should simply walk away while you can.”
“While ponies like you still... uh, dang, I forgot what I was- gah!” Tossed away like a ragdoll, he flew threw the air and collided against the side of the oak desk with a sickening thud. Wasting no time, the cloaked pony reached around the bookshelf and shoved it over to the door, loosing a strained grunt as he got it into place.
“That should take care of them,” he muttered, turning to Rets, who was only beginning to struggle to his hooves. Pissfer stood up with him, horn aglow. “It’s a shame you chose this time to investigate. I would’ve prefered a bit of privacy.”
“At least you’re stereotypical. That makes me feel a bit better,” Rets groaned, lifting his half-crushed fedora back to his head and readying the cane. “Why are you here? Were you one of the ponies that kidnapped the oranges?”
“Hang in there, Rets! Applejack, buck this thing down!” Laichonious called from behind the blocked door.
“Yes. Yes I was. Now if you would please go away and let me do my job, I would be very thankful for it,” he said in a curt voice, approaching Rets carefully. Pissfer leapt in to tackle the pony, but as soon as he moved, so did his target. The cloak fluttered about in the dim room, snapping taut when he bucked Pissfer in the chest and sent him into the same bookshelf as the first time.
Retsamoreh sucked in a lungful of air, taking the momentary switching of focus to lunge at the intruder, cane swinging wildly. It was parried with a simple stroke of the hoof, sending the cane bouncing off the orange wallpaper. Narrowing his eyes, the levitated weapon came back up front, taking another sideways swing at the pony; he caught it with his mouth, and yanked hard.
“Guh,” Rets gasped, his horn shining even brighter as he poured magic into his spell. “H-how... do... you...” He stumbled, the cane ripped from his magical grip, and fell to the floor, panting.
Stepping past him, the criminal grunted, and the cane closed in on the unicorn’s forehead with a terrific cracking noise. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, gentlecolts.” He walked behind the desk, opening a drawer with one hoof and rummaging through it with the other. “But I’ll just come and take what I came here for.” Deftly sticking something into a pocket in his cloak, he slammed the drawer shut and approached the waiting window.
The door shattered, and the bookshelf exploded outward in several pieces that clattered against the orange-tinted hardwood floors. Sliding across the ground, the largest, most intact part crunched to a halt before the desk, and then tilted forward and proceeded to fall upon Rets with a tremendous crash.
“Oops,” Laich said from the doorway, brandishing an umbrella. Applejack rolled her eyes beside him. “Sorry, dude.”
Pissfer scrambled to his hooves, scanning the messy desktop for anything he could use. His eyes lit up, and so did his horn.
“You are all very bad at this, and I must say. I expected more,” the voice said from behind the white cloak, chuckling on the window ledge. He looked down to the black ground far below, and the eerie implication that he was smiling returned. “But thank you for the fun, even though I must be- GUH!” Pissfer rushed forward, a gleaming letter opener streaking forward and pinning the cloak to the wood. A line of ripped fabric tore through the white fabric, sending the attacker in a panicked tumble over the edge.
Pissfer grunted as the cloak exploded outward, two long strips fluttering out into the wind. A moment later, he approached the window and looked down. “Well he was definitely a pegasus, and I’ll bet to anything he was green.” The blue unicorn sighed, his horn lighting up as something floating through the air caught his eye.
Adjusting his wizard hat in the process, Laichonious’s horn lit up with a levitation spell, and the remains of the bookshelf politely removed themselves from his partner.
“Bluh,” Rets muttered, blinking a few times in the dim lighting. He struggled to his hooves, haphazardly placing the hat back on his head when he was sure he wasn’t going to fall over. “Bloody ‘ell, I can’t feel my... face, or- guh..”
“What happened?” Laich asked.
“Hayfeathers! Y’all three tore the place up pretty darn near to pieces,” Applejack muttered, observing the wreckage. Two bookshelves had been toppled, the books themselves were splayed around in such a way that would probably made any libraries within a mile suddenly get chills, though one nearby understood the pain. Even the desk had a deep crack running across the top.
“We were ambushed as soon as we walked in the room. Pissfer tried to use some sort of spell on him, but... gosh, he was on us in seconds. Pissfer, are you okay? He got you pretty good there.”
“Not entirely,” Pissfer muttered, whatever he was looking at vanishing in a burst of Folding magic. “I feel like I was hit by a train. Don’t think anything was broken, though.”
“One....” Rets trailed off, blinking and then shaking his head confusedly. “One thing, though. We definitely need to contact the po... the police guys, about this. That pony was good, and like... what? Do all pegasi have military training or something?”
“Probably not,” Pissfer said, rubbing his barrel with one hoof. “Youch, he packed a punch and a half.”
“If I ever see that guld-dern varmint again, he’s gonna get nice introduction to Bucks McGee,” Applejack said, cantering over to the open window. She huffed, eyes narrowed at the night sky like it was the one at fault for everything.
A loud guffaw erupted from Rets’ throat, and he leaned haphazardly against the desk, grinning wistfully. “That sounded really funny... hah. Oh Celestia my poor head feels like it’s caved in.”
“You should probably have it checked for a concussion,” Pissfer said, surveying the scene one last time. “I think we should put up some sort of warning sign and close this place off, then go alert the police. Until then, I think we can sleep soundly now that we have a better idea of what we’re up against.”
“Yeah, looks like some sort of crazy assassin pegasus. We’ll last real long against them,” Laich scoffed, sniffing haughtily. “I, for one, am tired, and I just want to go home.”
“You didn’t even do anything,” Rets muttered, rolling his eyes. He looked down, glowering at the cane that had caused him so much trouble, and picked it up with a flickering levitation spell. One hoof steadying himself against the desk, he grunted, and made way for the door with Pissfer in pursuit. “But I really just want to do anything that makes my head stop hurting.”
“And tell the police, of course,” Pissfer said, disappearing into the hallway. Laichonious and Applejack shared a last glance at each other and the half-destroyed study, frowning, and then they left.
The rag-tag investigation team wearily plodded from the high-class apartment building. The rain had stopped, right on schedule, and some of the city’s night ponies were abroad, on their way to the many lively nightclubs Manehattan had to offer. The tall buildings looming over the tired group of pony sleuths didn’t look very generous, however. Laich studied the cane Rets had become acquainted with, trying to ignore the condescending leer of the buildings. It wasn’t really a cane to him, it looked more like a traditional shillelagh which filled him with a deep and distracting sense of curiosity. The shillelagh felt strange to him, so he suspected leylines at work. Regardless of what he thought of the strangely-out-of-place weapon, having it made him feel better and Rets didn’t seem to mind his borrowing of it.
The red unicorn noticed several things as he walked ahead of his friends, despite his outward appearance of being absorbed in the stick he floated before him. The traffic on the sidewalk seemed decidedly thin compared to his other experiences walking the city at night with Rets in pursuit of feline fugitives. Rain usually wasn’t a factor in those sorts of things; after all, it was scheduled. In the silly interpretation of thoughts, he filed the fact away in a squeaky cabinet in the back of his mind, making sure to remember the squeak, he should fix that. In addition to the lack of citizens, there was a lack of police ponies. This observation caused him to pause momentarily, at least mentally. There should have been an officer around somewhere; they made it a point to give the illusion of a large police force and they did this by putting an officer at key intersections, but the group of tired ponies had passed several major streets, not spying even a single cop. Though he was looking for them, that didn’t mean he always saw them and Laich doubted any of the ponies behind him noticed or even cared at the moment.
Among the trivial things he noticed, like the sign in his favorite stationery store announcing a sale on all things ink or the occasional whisper of a niyega passing overhead, he saw that the light traffic was mostly headed in one direction, north. As far as he had seen, the only ponies that headed north at this time of night were the ones getting off of their shifts in the manufacturing district and they almost never came to this part of town. The runemaster slowed his steps to let his friends catch up to him.
“Hey,” he said distractedly “would you say this is a pretty rich part of town?” The question was for nopony in particular so he shouldn’t have been annoyed at how nopony in particular answered his question, chiefly, with silence. He sighed. “Applejack?”
“Hm? Oh, sorry, what was that sugarcube?” She blinked at him, very slowly.
“You’ve been around the city right?” the red unicorn asked gently.
The farm filly gave him a strange look for the tone of his voice but nonetheless answered his query. “Yeah, I reckon I’ve been most everywhere ‘round here. How come?”
“Well I was just wondering if this would be what you consider to be a rich part of the city.”
“Erm, well...” she fished around for words. Nothing was biting tonight.
“That is,” Rets butted in, “as opposed to less desirable places, y’know, where lowlifes like to hang out.”
“Less desirable?” AJ furrowed her brow at the two unicorns. “Ah think Manehattan is a right nice place ta live. I wouldn’t live here m’self, understand, but Ah don’t think there’s any place like that...”
“Uh, what about, um...” Laich screwed up his eyes, searching for the right words, how anypony could find anything with eyes going two directions is anypony’s guess. “Oh! Like a part of town where most of the working ponies live, like the ones who do... menial labor?” he said, trying to emulate an innocent expression that only made him look more guilty.
The tired farmer didn’t take much notice of Laich’s apparent guilt. “Oh,” she said softly. “Well I s’pose there’s a burrow out yonder,” she jerked her head to the general north-east, “called Moot Point. It’s where lots of the dock workers and factory workers live. Could be what yer lookin’ for, sugarcube.... Why’re yall smilin’ like that?”
Laich and Pissfer attempted to smooth out the grins on their faces. “Smiling like what?” Laich asked with the same innocent-yet-guilty face trying to cohabitate with the grin. It wasn’t working out.
Rets only scowled, then winced at his headache. “I wouldn’t worry about them, Applejack,” he said in a low tone. He glanced around, his scowling wince transferring its focus to their surroundings. “This doesn’t look like the way to the police station...” he mumbled.
“That’s ‘cuz it isn’t,” Laich responded with surprise.
“What?” Pissfer finally said. “Why did you take us back here? We have important stuff to repor--” a massive yawn savagely broke into his sentence, ruffed up the furniture, ate all the food in the fridge, made a general nuisance of itself and finally left as suddenly as it came, “--ooort. Blegh. Maybe that’s why.”
“Why didn’t you tell me I was walking back to the office?” Laich managed to ask before the same yawn decided to hit him.
“I was just follow--” Rets wasn’t so lucky. The yawn hightailed it over to him making sure to take an extra long time rearranging the furniture. “--wing you!”
“Look, fellas Ah do--” Even Applejack wasn’t safe from the yawn as it barreled into her with what could have been a gleeful cackle. “--on’t think the police are even gonna be there. Seems like that riot thing had them pretty well occupied.”
“But we sti--” The yawn was having the time of its life ruthlessly interrupting their sentences and causing mayhem with creaking jaws. “--iil have to report...”
Laich waved a hoof at his powder-electric blue friend, mouth agape with the presence of the yawn as it happily forced his jaw farther apart. “Gahh! Look, I think Applejack is right th--” Apparently the yawn wasn’t finished. “--eehhh, geeze, police aren’t going to be there.”
“How can ya--” Rets tried to say, but the yawn was having so much fun, it must have called in backup. Both he and Pissfer had their mouths open, tongues lolling out to the side. Rets finally fought off his yawn and shook his head, then instantly regretted it. “Ugh, How can you say that?” He held one hoof up to his head, swaying where he stood like long grass in a gale.
Laich heard once that if you didn’t look at somepony who was yawning, the yawn wouldn’t come after you. Whoever said that was a dirty liar. Despite staring fixedly at their office building’s door, he could feel a yawn tugging at him. “Can I ju--” The inevitable took him.
“Consarnit! Would ya--” Applejack staggered under that particular yawn assault.
“--ust... just tell you tomorrow?” Laich asked wiping at his face with a foreleg.
Rets would have liked to say no but the yawns had him pinned down and wide open.
“aaahhooioui... would y’all quit doin’ that?” Applejack slouched forward, beating down another yawn as soon as she finished talking.
A coordinated attack left them all with their mouths open and making odd noises in front of the building, earning them a confused look from a few passing ponies. After what felt like thirty minutes, the yawns retreated, no doubt to regroup and launch another debilitating assault.
Laich took the opportunity in the momentary lull to make a suggestion. “Look, we’re already here and Rets, you should probably lie down or something. Applejack has had a tough day and we can barely see straight. We can do all the reporting we need to do in the mor--” The first wave of new attacks took him by surprise.
“Alright, alright!” Rets said as he staggered to the door. “Let’s get some rest. My jaw is going to fall off.”
The yawns celebrated yet another victory by pestering their victims further until they finally settled down to sleep. Laichonious gave his bed to Applejack, claiming he was always more comfortable on a couch and mumbling something about getting used to it. Pissfer pulled out the bedroll he had packed in his saddlebags and claimed a corner of the front room for the night. Rets barely remembered tripping into his bed and cursing that green pegasus with his last coherent thought.
