All that Glitters is Gold

by Bucephalus

Chapter 4: There's no fool like an old fool who thinks he's right!

As the eyes of Fool’s Gold fluttered open, he realized there was something wrong. It wasn’t only the Camus from the last night that kept pounding in his head, nor was it the annoyingly catchy country song he had listened to while drinking the bottle he had “acquired.” There was an inexplicable noise that seemed to reverberate through the small side room of the Gold Standard’s office. It was something like a combination between somepony banging a trashcan and the sound that a moose in heat makes.

In short, it was enough to piss off both Fool’s Gold and this Narrator.

“Shut up out there! Some ponies have had a long night!” Fool’s Gold shouted as he got up from his futon. “How would you feel if I started shouting outside your window after you had to spend a night on the couch because you had a fight with your wife? Huh? Would that be fun!?”

Opening the window at the side of the room, Fool’s Gold peeked outside to find the culprit for the horrible sound. At first he saw nothing but the usual sight of Shangri-La district’s morning: tired hostesses and bartenders, even more tired courtesans, some foals spraying graffiti to the side of a building and everything in-between. However, after listening for few seconds, he finally realized that the sound was, in fact, coming from right below his window.

“…What do you think you’re doing, geezer?”

There, right below their office’s window, was a bearded old stallion dressed in rags. In his hooves was an old can that he kept shaking so that the coins inside rattled loudly. While he did that, he kept shouting things like “Help a stallion in need!” and “Spare a bit for an old warrior?”

“What does it look like, young’un?” the old stallion said. “I’m working for my living, that’s what!”

“Work for it somewhere else! You’re giving me a headache!” Fool’s Gold shouted. “I was up all night, playing billiards with Wordwise. Do you have any idea how close I am to puking because you keep shouting?”

“I don’t care, young’un!” The geezer said and huffed. “It’s not my problem that you decided to ignore the warnings of your parents when it came to—“

The words of the old stallion were cut off unceremoniously as Fool’s Gold opened his floodgates, and a chunky waterfall of puke fell from his mouth straight into the can.

“Heyyyy! What do you think you’re doing, ya whippersnapper!?” The geezer shouted, retreating quickly. “That’s dirty! Worse than dirty!”

“It’s your fault, geezer,” Fool’s Gold answered, wiping his mouth. “You’re the one who kept shouting like that.”

“Well, it’s the only thing I can do, if I want to have dinner tonight,” the old stallion grumbled.

“What do you mean? I just gave you a free lunch, right there.”

“I’ve never seen a lunch as dirty as this! Return it to the chef immediately!” The geezer retorted.

“No, not even the chef wants anything to do with that lunch after it left his hooves,” Fool’s Gold said. After giving a sigh, he jumped out of the window, into the street, and sat down next to the geezer. “What are you even doing in Yoshiwara Street? I know De Wallen Street and La Zona Street are kinda dangerous for beggars, but wouldn’t Patpong Street be more preferable?”

“No, no, Patpong Street is too dangerous.” The geezer emptied his can of the puke before tossing the whole thing away. “Especially for a dirty old stallion like me. I can’t flirt with young mares there, since you never know if they are really mares or stallions.”

“In that case, just do what every stallion does,” Fool’s Gold grunted and lit a cigarette before bringing it to his lips. “Trust the magnificent sensor that’s granted to them, located between their legs.”

“At this age, my sensor is already broken.” The old stallion sighed. “Last time, it reacted to a popsicle. I think it’s in its death throes.”

“That’s the sad fate of every stallion, ain’t it?” Fool’s Gold took a drag from his cigarette, puffing out a cloud of smoke. “Anyways, what’s your name? And what do I have to do to get you out of here?”

“Spare Change. I’m Spare Change, young’un,” the stallion answered. “And I’m not going away till I get enough bits for a dinner.”

“Huh? Didn’t I just give you a free dinner?” Fool’s Gold asked, only to be punched to the ribs by Spare Change.

“Like I said, that dinner was too dirty! Never mention it again!”

An awkward silence fell between the two stallions. Since neither had anything to say, they opted to watch the flow of creatures that walked up and down the main street. While Fool’s Gold kept smoking his cigarette, Spare Change took another of the empty cans lying on the street. He put it right in front of him, with hope in his eyes. However, even if many creatures walked right past them, none of them threw any bits to the old stallion.

After a minute or two, Fool’s Gold finally sighed in annoyance.

“If this keeps up, you’ll be stuck in front of my office forever,” he said. “Fine. I’ll help you get enough money for your dinner, so leave immediately after it. Is that fine with you?”

“Whatever, young’un.” Spare Change spat at the ground. “As long as I get my meal.”

Having come to an agreement, Fool’s Gold also took a can for himself. After judging its weight a bit in his hooves, he started gazing at the passers-by. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and even Spare Change started to realize that something was wrong. Eventually, after a moment of hesitation, Fool’s Gold finally nodded to himself and raised the can he was holding. Then, with a powerful throw, he threw the can straight into the head of an unsuspecting stallion that just happened to walk past them.

Needless to say, it was a magnificent throw, akin to those of Walter Johnson. The can hit the stallion clearly in the head, knocking him out instantly.

“Why are you praising him, Narrator!?” Spare Change shouted. “He just assaulted a civilian!”

Now that the stallion on the street had been knocked out, Fool’s Gold gave a satisfied grunt before walking over to him. Calmly, he used his magic to open the pocket of the pinstripe suit the stallion was wearing and fished out his rather fat wallet. Then, as nonchalantly as possible and without caring about the stares of the other passers-by, Fool’s Gold began counting the bits inside the wallet.

“Ten… twenty… forty…” Fool’s Gold let out a whistle. “Mm, who’d have thunk? You were pretty loaded. Wait, don’t I know you from somewhere? You’re Joey, aren’t you?”

Of course, the knocked-out stallion wasn’t able to answer. However, this narrator can confirm that this was indeed the same wisecolt that Fool’s Gold had assaulted in the previous chapter.

“Oi, geezer! I got your meal money right he—“

Fool’s Gold was unceremoniously cut off by a roundhouse kick from Spare Change.

“What do you think you’re doing, young’un!?” Spare Change shouted. “You can’t just go robbing ponies in the street! That’s wrong, that’s wrong on so many levels!”

“Ugh. Who cares?” Gold asked while rubbing his cheek. “It’s not like we’re required to teach lessons about life to young readers. Actually, this might be a good lesson. A lesson about how life isn’t easy, and sometimes you must be prepared to assault innocent passers-by in order to succeed in life. Preferably with an aluminum can.”

“What sort of lesson is that!?” Spare Change shouted. “Don’t go teaching weird things to the whippersnappers of this modern society! Put the money back in his wallet!”

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Fool’s Gold obeyed the old stallion. Begrudgingly, he put the wallet back into the wisecolt’s pocket. Since the stallion showed no signs of waking up, Gold used his magic to whisk him out of sight and into a dumpster that lied in the back alley.

“That’s it, no evidence left behind,” Fool’s Gold said, clearly satisfied.

“What are you, a criminal!?” Spare Change roared. Seeing the anger of the old stallion, Fool’s Gold sighed, shaking his head.

“Aren’t you one too? All beggars are criminals on the road of life, desperately looking for alms. Unfortunately, nowadays the whole act is monopolized by religion, so beggars are cast aside for the sake of properly-dressed priests who don’t smell like puke,” Gold said.

“Don’t go dragging religion into this, young’un! The readers will lynch us! Lynch us, I say!” Spare Change shouted. “And the only reason I’m smelling like puke is because you can’t hold your liquor!”

“Lynch us? Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t mind changing this pointless comedy into a surreal, mystifying thriller,” Fool’s Gold said, sounding somewhat excited. “We could become popular enough to get to the featured box!”

“Not that sort of lynch!” Spare Change retorted. “The only place we’ll end up is at the bottom of the ocean!”

“… What are ya doin’, Boss?”

The argument of the two stallions was cut off by the arrival of a very annoyed Short Fuse. She was carrying a plastic bag in her mouth filled with what seemed like bargain bin ice cream. It seemed that either she had spent all her money on some cheap luxury, or that she had simply raided the kiosk nearby. If you ask my opinion, the latter option was far more probable, considering her personality.

“An’ who asked your opinion, ya damn Narrator!?”

“It’s protection ice cream.” Ambra peeked from behind Short Fuse’s back. “We collected it.”

“No it ain’t! We bought it fair ‘n square!” Short Fuse roared. “Don’t try ta make me inta a horrible character, ya featherbrain!”

Once again, Ambra got a swat to the head as a prize for her unwanted commentary.

“Ah, delinquent mare,” Fool’s Gold said. “I’m helping this annoying old geezer to get his lunch money so that he goes bother somepony else. Could you help? You have skills in shaking bits out of the nerdy foals at school, right?”

“Just what sorta mare do ya think I am!?”

“Will you young’uns just shut up already?” Spare Change groaned and glared at the trio. “I’m seriously trying to earn my living here. If you aren’t going to properly help, just get lost. I’ll do it myself.”

“No you don’t.” Fool’s Gold sighed. “If we let you be here you’ll be here till Chapter 50, and readers are starting to think you’re going to be a recurring character.”

“What?! I’m not going to be a recurring character!?” Spare Change asked in shock.

“Shaddap, both of you,” Short Fuse said. “We ain’t gettin’ anywhere if ya just continue like this, so just leave this ta me, an’ go munch on these, will ya?”

Having said that, Short Fuse threw the bag of ice cream to Fool’s Gold. He took it with a sour face, but judging from the annoyed expression on the mare’s face, he knew better than to start arguing about it. Thus, with a deflated sigh, he sat to the side of the road, leaning his back to the building. Spare Change mimicked him, and soon the two stallions were staring at the mare and the gryphon.

“Young’un, do you think that filly can do it?” Spare Change asked, putting his hoof into the plastic bag. “Isn’t she just some roughneck from De Wallen Street?”

“Oh, if only she were. She’s something far worse than that…” Fool’s Gold crushed the geezer’s leg inside the bag with his hooves without even looking at it. “You see, that mare…”

At that exact same time, something strange was happening on the street. Short Fuse had taken an awkward pose that was supposed to pronounce her behind, but it just made her look like she was constipated. It did not help that the way she puckered her lips made her face look like that of a duck. In other words, for that moment, she had a fake beak that even left that of Ambra in shame.

Fool’s Gold grew horrified as he saw this scene.

“…She thinks she’s sexy!”

A shocked silence fell upon the street as Short Fuse had finished her preparations. She tried to give a seductive smile, only for it to turn into a demonic sneer as she approached a younger stallion.

“Hey there, good-lookin’. Ya wanna help out a mare in a mess?” Short Fuse cooed. “Ya see, I kinda need some money, an’—“

That was as far as she got. With an expression that said the stallion was afraid for his life, he fled into the alleys of Yoshiwara Street, screaming like a little filly. What was left behind were Ambra who simply looked confused, Fool’s Gold who looked absolutely terrified, and the broken remains of Short Fuse’s pride.

“T-that filly, such a fearsome appearance…” Spare Change could barely believe his eyes. “Just who is she!?”

“She’s the one they call the Ogre Filly of the Royal Guard, Short Fuse,” Fool’s Gold answered. “As strong as an ogre, and twice as bad at seduction!”

“Truly fearsome.” Spare Change said, with newfound awe.

“This ain’t something ya should be awed ‘bout!” Short Fuse shouted in tears. “I’m tryin’! I’m honestly tryin’ ‘ere!”

“Oh. That looks fun,” Ambra said while picking her nostril. “Let me try.”

Having said that, and before anypony could stop her, Ambra mimicked awkwardly the pose that Short Fuse had shown earlier. She twisted her body, brought up her rear, and tried to pucker her lips (which she lacked, so she only looked like she was about to throw up). Ambra even spread her red wings like she was trying some sort of odd mating dance. Then, with all the clumsiness the whole deal brought with it, she wobbled over to the nearest stallion, who looked ready to cry in fear.

“Hey there. Good… Good looking one?” Ambra greeted the stallion.

“Why are ya posin’ it like a question!?” Short Fuse shouted from the sidelines. “It’s the same as just straight up insultin’ him!”

“Want to help? I’m in a mess,” Ambra continued. “Money. Give it to—“

That was as far as she got. With an expression that said something in her stomach had just violently disagreed with the pose she had taken, Ambra fell to the ground. Her eyes had whited out and she was convulsing with the remains of half-digested ice cream pouring from her open beak. Not only that, but her wings were stuck fully extended, meaning she stuck out of the ground like an embarrassing Hearth’s Warming Eve’s decoration that both your neighbors and your family wanted you to get rid of.

All in all, she was a sight that sent the rest of the stallions in the nearby vicinity fleeing, all of them screaming like they were being chased by Hasbro’s legal team.

“What did I tell ya ‘bout eatin’ so much ice cream, ya featherbrain!?” Fuse roared and swatted the unconscious gryphon on the head. “Of course ya gonna get sick if ya try ta pull off Rob Liefeld poses after that!”

As the tragicomedy of two idiots trying to be seductive continued, both Spare Change and Fool’s Gold decided to ignore it. The gold-maned stallion stumped his cigarette and gave another sigh, trying to ease the pounding on his head. His hangover was far from over, and the shouting and hollering nearby was not doing it any favors. Spare Change, on the other hoof, looked like he just wanted the whole nightmare to end.

“What are you even doing here anyways, geezer?” Fool’s Gold finally asked. “I’m sure you could earn better money if you moved to the streets of Canterlot proper. Here in Shangri-La you’ll only find poor beings and idiots, just like you see.”

“I could ask you the same, young’un,” Spare Change said and chuckled. “You don’t exactly look like a local. Judging by your mane and your weapon, I’d say you’re—“

“Hm, enough about me. I’m here just because they don’t sell IDW’s comic outside of Shangri-La,” Fool’s Gold answered with a smirk. “I know that the clerk at the comic store keeps telling me I’m too old to read it, but I can’t help it. Rarity’s such a wonderful mare. I want to keep up to date about how she’s doing.”

“Rarity? Is she even a main character?” Spare Change asked, earning a glare from Fool’s Gold.

“Don’t go insulting Rarity in my presence. Main characters should be both beautiful and ambitious! But not to the point of growing wings!”

“Well, whatever. I guess all stallions go through a Rarity phase at some point,” Spare Change said and shrugged. “Well, anyways, if you’re that interested, I’ll tell you, young’un. You see, I used to be pretty well-off before. I had a beautiful wife and a bunch of foals who are now doing well on their own chosen paths. One teaches a class in the royal academy, one plays a fiddle to adoring crowds, and one has her own flower shop. And even if I’m old, I was quite good at singing. I had gigs lined up all over Canterlot. But life ain’t that easy, you know? Bad things began happening at places where I was supposed to perform. The last straw came few weeks ago, when the Host Club I had a gig in was destroyed by some hooligans.”

Fool’s Gold heard a lightning strike somewhere in the distance. As much as he tried, he could not reveal that it had been him that had completely wrecked the Host Club and exposed their money counterfeiting service, mostly because he was afraid that the old geezer would strangle him then and there if he revealed it.

“Now I’m just scraping by,” Spare Change said and sighed. “My wife left me, and my foals don’t even acknowledge my existence. I moved from being a background pony into being part of the background itself. No matter how much I want to be noticed, I’m like a still image of the previous season, not even worthy of speculation by the fandom.”

“And so you descended into poverty and life on these streets. Yeah, I can see that,” Fool’s Gold said.

He then gave Spare Change a stern look.

“What I can’t see is your wife and foals abandoning you like that. They’re still ponies, aren’t they? Even with some hardships like that, they ain’t going to leave you on your own,” he said accusingly. “It was not their choice to leave you. You did it by yourself, didn’t you? You distanced yourself from your family so they wouldn’t be disgraced by your bad luck.”

Spare Change let out a solemn chuckle and nodded. After that single gesture of confession, all of his poise seemed to disappear, and he slumped against the ground, allowing his ears to flop. Now, looking more tired than ever before, he was just like all the other raggedy bums of Shangri-La, mixing into the scenery of the dirty district perfectly.

“You got me there, young’un. I’m nothing more than a coward. I didn’t want my sweetheart and my foals to suffer because of me, so I fled into the night. And I feel like it was the right thing to do. I may be cursed by bad luck like the rest of this district, but at least I won’t affect those who still have a chance for a happy life, like my family. I can’t trust myself to be able to support them like I have before, so, it was time for me to go,” Spare Change said.

To his surprise, his words earned him an annoyed kick by the front leg of Fool’s Gold. The stallion had stood up, and was now lighting another cigarette which he brought to his lips. Shaking his head, Fool’s Gold flashed a grin to the older stallion before looking up towards the skies, where the golden sun and the white clouds were putting on their best performance.

“Just what are you saying? This town isn’t down on its luck. We still have the blessed sun of Princess Celestia, don’t we?” Fool’s Gold asked. “We still have the brilliant night skies of Princess Luna, don’t we? So saying that we’re any less loved by this world is just rubbish. We might be hidden, we might be weird, or we might be outcasts, but we still have this town, and this sky. As long as they exist, I refuse to believe that we have any less luck than those living anywhere else.”

Then, with a smile on his face, Fool’s Gold turned to look at where both Short Fuse and Ambra were still arguing. Or at least the former was arguing; the gryphon simply listened with a tepid expression on her face, clearly letting Fuse’s words pass through one ear to the other. In fact, Ambra seemed far more occupied with following a yellow butterfly that had taken interest in her red feathers.

“Oi! You two!” Fool’s Gold shouted. “Playtime’s over! We’ve got a job here.”

Both Fuse and Ambra turned to look at the stallion with confused expressions. A similar one was now also plastered over Spare Change’s face.

“Job? Whaddya mean, Boss?” Short Fuse asked.

Fool’s Gold chuckled and sucked his cigarette before blowing out the smoke through his teeth.

“What else?” He asked. “We’re going to play band managers!”

Pony Music Headquarters, the tallest building in the western district of Canterlot. A gleaming office made out of marble, and home to many of the greatest musical minds of Equestria. It was on the seventh floor of this building, overlooking most of the district and with a great view of the palace itself, that the office of Bridle Upstain was located.

Bridle Upstain was the mastermind behind such stars as DJ PON-3 and Octavia, and he was known for his generosity and kindness as well as for his young age. Having risen to fame after taking in the famous band ‘The Hoof Beats’, Bridle Upstain was now the hottest name in the music industry.

… And that was why he was wondering how these three bumbling idiots had gotten past all the security, and now sat on the couch in his office.

“So, just who in the wide, wide world of Equestria are you supposed to be?” Bridle Upstain asked, eyeing the trio suspiciously.

The two ponies and one gryphon were dressed in the most ridiculous clothes that Bridle had ever seen. They had black suits with white shirts and slim ties. If only it had ended there. With the addition of large black sunglasses and fedoras, they went instantly from respectable to ridiculous.

“Oh, we didn’t introduce ourselves?” The stallion with the golden mane asked with an odd, nasally voice.

“No you didn’t!” Bridle retorted. “You just barged in here and sat down there like you owned the place! Now start explaining or I’ll call security!”

“No need to get so impatient, Mr. Asstain—“

“It’s Upstain!”

“Upstain. Well, as you probably heard, we’re managers, both for bands and solo artists,” the stallion continued. “I’m Pewter Grand.”

“An’ I’m Alba Grossmare,” continued the blue mare on the left side of the stallion. “Ta the stars!”

Bridle didn’t even want to comment on how ridiculous the catchphrase was.

“Me? I’m Dandy. Dandy Fields,” the gryphon concluded. “I guess?”

“And together we’re, as you might have realized…” The stallion announced, standing up on the couch, barely balancing himself on his hind hooves. “…the famous trio of managers from Manehattan: The Blues Siblings!”

“Siblings!? You’re not even the same race, idiots!” Bridle shouted. “And that’s clearly plagiarism! Next you’re probably telling me you’re on a mission to save some orphanage you grew up in!?”

This seemed to shock the stallion.

“So you’ve heard of us, then!?”

“As if, you idiot!”

As most of you readers have guessed at this point, with their amazing tenacity and through the power of transition, our three main characters have made their way to the office of the #1 music corporation in Equestria and are now in the process of annoying the glue out of their star manager. All this was for the sake of a washed-up old hobo who had previously been a somewhat talented singer, yet lost it all due to the terrible fate known as ‘plot convenience’.

On a side note, Spare Change was currently waiting outside in the corridor, hiding under a cardboard box and trying to decide whether or not he should simply leave and let the trio be thrown in jail, as they most likely would be.

“Well, it’s not that important.” Fool’s Gold smirked and brought his cigarette to his lips. “We’re here to talk to you about a chance. A golden chance that would ensure your place as the immortal star of Equestria’s music history.”

“If I got a bit every time I heard somepony say that, I’d be swimming in money right now,” Bridle said and sighed.

“But ya are swimmin’ in money, ain’cha?” Short Fuse tilted her head, causing the manager to have a conveniently-timed coughing fit.

“T-that’s not important!” Bridle hurried to assure. “But even so, I can’t spare any time for some new musician. I’m right now in the process of promoting Pony Music’s newest star, who is going to woo the populace in an unheard-of manner.”

“Hooh? And who is this star?” Fool’s Gold asked. “I’m sure that our star could outdo that wannabe completely. Our star is a professional singer whose voice can make grown stallions weep. It’s like dressing up in tight, blue spandex. You’ll believe a stallion can cry!”

“I’d cry too if I had to wear such an outfit! Especially if I was written into a shameful story by John Byrne!” Bridle retorted, hitting his desk with his hoof. “Besides, we’re a fanfic, you know? Nopony is interested in singers! You can have as many lyrics as you want, nopony is going to bother reading them! They’ll just be distracting and look bad for pre-readers! We’ll never get to the big leagues! That’s why instrumental music is the way to go!”

Fool’s Gold snorted, giving a bit of a mocking shrug.

“As if we’d ever get into those big leagues. This sort of crude humor story stays forever where it is, at the bottom with countless other stories. It’s the same story with instrumental music. It might be nice to listen to, but nopony is going to remember it the next day, just like everypony forgets when they went to toilet yesterday,” he said.

Bridle Upstain grinned challengingly at this open provocation. Putting his hoof to his mouth, he let out a sharp whistle, momentarily breaking all laws of physics as ponies and their brethren have a bad habit of doing. He turned to look at the door leading to the corridor with expectant eyes.

“Did you hear that, new pony?” Bridle half shouted. “They’re doubting your skills!”

With far more force than was required, the door of the office was slammed open, scaring the wits out of everypony inside. As the dust thrown into the air by the sudden wind started to descend, a threatening figure entered the office. It was a pony, dressed in most curious clothes. The pony glanced around the room before eventually fixing her gaze onto the trio on the couch. She flicked her hat with her hoof before striding towards them, a fierce look in her eyes.

The trio found themselves speechless in the presence of the yellow mare.

“Let me introduce you to our newest star!” Bridle Upstain said, cackling. “She is the current Number One artist in all Equestria, the mare who created the instrumental hit song ‘Raze this Bar’, a new legend amongst the folk artists of this land…”

The pony stopped right in front of the trio, who were now very thankful that their sunglasses hid just how scared they were.

“…Fiddlesticks!”

And so, this tall earth pony mare leaned closer to the trio… only to offer her hoof and give them a peaceful smile.

“Mighty nice to meet’cha!” Fiddlesticks said. “Like he said, the name’s Fiddlesticks! Ah’m a newbie when it comes to music, but I hope y’all will be patient with me as I try to learn the ropes.”

The atmosphere in the room was not unlike that of a deflated whoopee cushion.

“T-that’s it?” Fool’s Gold asked, his eyes now resembling those of a dead fish. “With that introduction, I was ready for an appearance of our first antagonist character. I even thought that this chapter would go to be a two-parter. But really? This is all? A slightly tall country pony?”

“E-erm, that is, I mean…” Bridle muttered. “I think I kind of… got caught in the moment myself…”

“Oh, ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout me, mister!” Fiddlesticks said while shaking Gold’s hoof vigorously. “Ah ain’t a villain or anything like that. Mah pops told me to always walk the honest path, and though he ain’t here, I’m stickin’ to mah beliefs.”

“Well, ain’t that a good way ‘a livin’.” Short Fuse gave a friendly nod to the mare. “Ya don’t seem like a bad pony, in any case.”

“Yeah. Pops was an inspiration to me,” Fiddlesticks said and flashed a proud smile. “He might’ve been plagued by bad luck his whole life, but he never refused to back down!”

“Bad luck?” Fool’s Gold asked. “And you said your father’s gone?”

As he eyed Fiddlesticks up and down, Gold became more convinced that his initial assumption had been correct. The more he listened to the mare’s accent, the more he started seeing a slight resemblance to something else he had heard that day. And the way Fiddlesticks carried herself was rather familiar too. But the most conclusive evidence was that annoying country song stuck in his head, and how the voice of its singer was suspiciously close to the voice of a certain geezer he had met. The conclusion was obvious. He had made just the right decision.

Fool’s Gold shivered as he could finally breathe out in relief.

“That’s right. Pops up and disappeared few weeks ago. Dunno what happened to him, but I trust he’s doin’ his very best even today,” Fiddlesticks answered.

Silence fell to the room after the mare’s words. Both Ambra and Short Fuse had come to the same conclusion that Fool’s Gold had previously, or, at least the latter had. Ambra’s face was as emotionless as ever, so it was hard to tell with the gryphon. She could have just as well been replaying her favorite Tetris match in her mind and the effect would have been the same.

The only one who hadn’t realized what was going on was Bridle Upstain, and he was too occupied with his shameful behavior from before to even care about that. Eventually, Fool’s Gold broke the silence with a sigh. He scratched his mane with his hoof, before opening his mouth.

“Well, there you go, geezer. You heard the filly. She’s still believing in you, even though you’re a good-for-nothing father who just up and disappears when things go bad, so shouldn’t you show same trust to your family?”

Confusion spread to the face of Fiddlesticks as she heard what the stallion had said. For a moment, nothing moved in the room. Then, a quiet scuffling from the doorway drew everypony’s attention. There, they could see a large cardboard box trying to make its way through the doorway, only to give up after an intense struggle. The box was discarded slowly, revealing the old stallion hiding underneath it.

Spare Change, with a solemn expression on his face, straightened his back and faced the stare of his shocked daughter.

“Figures you’d set me up for something like this, young’un,” Spare Change muttered. “You seemed a bit too smart for your own good.”

“P-Pops?” Fiddlesticks asked, barely believing what was happening.

“Well, I guess I had to. To see a father stubborn enough to actually go underground just so that his supposed bad luck wouldn’t infect his daughter who is just making it big…” Fool’s Gold grinned. “I guess it didn’t just sit right with me.”

“Yeah. I can believe that,” Spare Change answered. “Such stubborn fathers should be thrown in the streets and be forced to beg for their lunch. And, then… I guess they’d have to come back, to fix the mess they caused. A coward may be a coward, but there’s one good thing about that. Cowards can always learn to face their fears.”

Having said that, Spare Change turned to look at Fiddlesticks, who was now completely speechless. Fool’s Gold took this as a sign, and stood up, heading out towards the door. He only stopped for a moment to catch Bridle Upstain and drag along. Unlike his companions, the manager had no idea what was going on, and was thus unable to read the mood properly.

As the group was leaving through the door, Fool’s Gold threw a one last glance at the father and daughter, who had been, at last, reunited.

“Those who know they can eventually face their fears aren’t cowards, geezer.” The tone of the stallion was surprisingly sad. “Those are the ones we actually call brave.”

And with that, the group left, leaving Spare Change and Fiddlesticks alone in the office.

“I might have mucked about for a long time,” the old stallion said. “But I think I finally know what I have to do. It doesn’t matter if I failed at what I tried to do. What matters now is that I support your dreams. And I can’t do that if I hide from you or my family.”

“Yeah. Ya were bein’ mighty silly, pops.” Tears were gathering to Fiddlesticks eyes. “But Ah think we can forgive ya.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Sometime later, Fool’s Gold was once again suffering from a hangover. He lay sprawled on the sofa, staring at the screen of the old television in the corner of Gold Standard. Short Fuse was sitting on the other sofa, eyeballing at the stallion with a disapproving expression. Ambra, on the other hoof, was sleeping in her personal basket that had been prepared for her many weeks ago. The corner area where the basket lay was the territory of the gryphon.

Suddenly, Fool’s Gold let out a sort chuckle.

“What’s so funny, Boss?” Fuse asked, arching an eyebrow. “Ya ain’t usually so cheerful when sufferin’ from the previous night.”

“Oh, I just saw something funny in the TV,” Gold answered. “I guess they really try to cater to all tastes in music these days.”

“Meaning?” Ambra asked, opening her left eye.

“It seems that the latest craze is this father-daughter duo,” Gold said and pointed at the television. “They’re playing folk, of all styles. I just don’t understand how this world works. Bring back the rockabilly and hard rock.”

The only answer Short Fuse and Ambra gave to the stallion were knowing smiles. They didn’t want to talk over the musical performance that was being broadcasted on the television, and simply enjoyed the music.

And so, it is with these thoughts and these words that we end this chapter of the story.

Once again, Minuette and Twinkleshine were sitting in the otherwise empty theater, gazing at the now dark silver-screen. While Minuette was still staring at the ending credits, Twinkleshine was intently listening to music with her iPod. It took Minuette a while to realize this, and when she did, she jabbed her friend in the ribs.

“Hey, pay some attention!” Minuette said. “I learned something very important stuff about art from this chapter.”

Twinkleshine sighed and took out her earbuds. She turned to look at her friend with a very doubtful look on her face.

“Important? And what would that be?” Twinkleshine asked.

“It was something that applies even to this story,” Minuette answered. “You know, no matter how bad some piece of art is, at least it’s got one good thing about it.”

“What’s that?”

“It ends!” Minuette concluded.

The two mares bumped their hooves together and burst into bellowing laughter which echoed in the empty movie theater.

“Do-ho-ho-ho-hoh!”