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// Two for One 
// Story: Close Shave, Royal Barber 
// by Crowquill Symphony 
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Two for One

I will admit that in a few instances, either due to negligence or a desire for a challenge, I have had to work with two clients at once. It’s a bit nerve wracking and exciting at the same time, a truly unique experience. Of course, every time this happened it had simply been two clients. Yesterday, I had the unique thrill of having to work with a client and a victim. 
I would need to kill a pony with a possible witness in the room. To say I was nervous would be a slight understatement; I was downright scared. I had never had to deal with witnesses before; when I took on my royal duty the princesses were careful to avoid such conflicts when setting up contracts, ensuring that I would have total privacy when dealing with whatever unsavory element they had sent me. 
Nevertheless, I prepared my tools, honing the edges to nigh perfection. I checked over the names on the list as I worked, preparing my nerves. First of the two was the name “Fancy Pants,” whose name I recognized as belonging to a famous and wealthy philanthropist within the Canterlot community. His name was written in normal black ink, and listed that he was coming for a shave only. 
The next name was written in black ink, but it was obvious it had been watered down before it was used. Golden Treasure, a mare looking for a haircut. I went to my desk and looked through the papers there. Most were simply normal documents for one of my profession, though at the bottom of the pile, snuck in through magic, was a simple manila envelope. Inside was a dossier of the mare in question, along with a criminal record and some headlines. 
Apparently she was the wife to somepony named “Filthy Rich,” a successful businessman who, despite his massive wealth, had managed to maintain an air of sophistication. His wife, on the other hand, acted like a complete mule. She had been arrested several times for being drunk and disorderly, and when she was sober was often seen as being an arrogant and egotistical mule. 
This didn’t explain why the princesses wanted me to take her out. I made a mental note to inquire about it before I did her in as the bell on my doorframe alerted me to somepony entering. I turned to spot a white stallion with a blue mane and mustache, as well as hints of a beard growing in. He wore a very impressive suit and a monocle, and even the way he spoke showed that his name wasn’t far off from his personality. 
“Good day sir. I take it you are the barber?” 
I nodded. It was a bit surprising that he hadn’t assumed I was an assistant, and as I sat him down in his chair, he seemed incredibly at ease with the situation. I grabbed the cape and draped it around his front just as the door opened again, this time slamming open to reveal a unicorn with golden fur and a silver mane. 
“Alrighty, let’s get this over with. I have an appointment in two hours, and I need to get to it early.” 
I visibly twitched. Impatience, especially when it came to matters such as my passion, was a trigger for me. Before I could say anything else, she looked me dead in the eyes and scoffed. “Excuse me, but where is the barber? I need to get this over with, but I refuse to be worked upon by an amateur.” 
I kept as good a poker face as I could manage, but I felt my teeth grinding, and my eye had begun to twitch more and more. I prepared to say something when Fancy Pants spoke up.
“Madame, I assure you that the pony before you is indeed the barber you seek. I daresay that he is the best barber in Canterlot, and the princesses themselves cry out praises of his name to the heavens.” 
I was more than a bit surprised. I was so used to ponies, especially unicorns, being worried and paranoid during their first visit to my salon, but here was a gentlecolt not only accepting my trade but defending my very honor. I blushed slightly from the praise he gave to me. 
“I don’t care if he’s shaved an Ursa Major, I’m not sure I trust an earth pony barber.” 
I sighed in unison with Fancy, and Golden Treasure seated herself in an available seat. I begrudgingly wrapped a cape around her and went to my tools. 
“If you don’t mind, good sir, I’d appreciate it if you could take care of her first. I have a spell that should render me dormant until you’ve finished with her ‘treatment,’ my good man.” 
I caught the change in pitch as he said treatment, but I shrugged it off. He was, in essence, offering me a window to accomplish my task without worry, and I gladly accepted. His horn glowed gently, and his eyes shut slowly. Within a minute I was prepared to deal with the mare and he was snoring with a sophisticated air, something that impressed me greatly. I started with the usual, washing the mane carefully, this time around using a special soap with a sort of bliss-inducing potion mixed in, but Mrs. Treasure complained and squawked loudly as I worked. 
“Gah! That water is too hot! Watch yourself, my husband could run you out of business! You’re pulling on my hair you buffoon! Pay more attention to what you’re doing. Aaaaugh! That water’s freezing! Are you trying to give me pneumonia?”
She complained loudly, and with each passing second I found myself hating her more and more. As I rinsed her hair my mouth was free, so I did something I wasn’t used to in the slightest. 
I talked to her.
“I’ve heard that you’re somewhat unpopular ma’am.”
She jerked around, attempting to glare at me but accomplishing little, save for disturbing my concentration slightly. She grunted like a wild boar and began to rant. “I suppose you’ve been dabbling in those two-bit tabloids you find at supermarkets, haven’t you? Yes, I’ve made some seemingly unpopular decisions, but I assure you that many have prospered from what I’ve done.”
“Does that include jail-time ma’am?” 
She once again turned to try and glare at me, but righted herself and let out a deep growl. “It’s true that I have found myself on the wrong side of the law on occasion, but in all honesty I had done nothing wrong. So I was responsible for that family, that didn’t mean the guards had the right to try and arrest me.” 
That confused me. I hadn’t read anything about a family. “What family ma’am?” 
She groaned, holding it long and irritating me endlessly. “Can you not read? Or are you just stupid by the standards of a Canterlot pony?”
That had been completely uncalled, but I kept my anger in check. I had finished the washing and started to trim her hair, working calmly despite my frayed nerves. She sighed and kept talking. 
“Honestly, it’s not even that significant, but frankly I am an important pony and because of that the story got blown out of proportion. Their land was technically the property of my husband, and they had been using it for rock farming. Can you believe it? Rock farming! Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous?” 
Rock farming was actually a fairly well respected profession amongst earth ponies were I came from, with their innate powers allowing them to change and work the insides of rocks as they rolled them, allowing them to grow large crystals. Unfortunately, few ponies bothered to learn the details and assumed that they simply spent their days flipping rocks. 
“Anyways, the fools were wasting valuable land, so I set out to evict them. They paid their rent on time, but their whole business was a waste of time.” 
I couldn’t see why that would warrant a guard action unless she had gone to illegal means to acquire the property, but I also questioned why she even desired the land in the first place.
“Of course, they were quite stubborn. Refused to move, and even threatened me. I responded to their threats with self defense.” She seemed to be reveling in her words at this point, enjoying her own speech. The soap had definitely kicked in full blast. “I used a rather potent spell against the head of the household. Apparently he broke a few ribs.” She chuckled slightly, and my blood continued to boil. “Of course, what happened to that filly was unfortunate…”
I stopped cold. I pulled back and set my scissors on the tray, and with my mouth free I sought to quell my suspicions. 
“What happened to the filly?” 
She laughed loudly, the kind of laugh a sophisticated pony uses to mock the common folk. “She was caught in the blast of the spell. Got knocked into the cottage, and apparently broke her leg. A pity really, and far more trouble than it had been worth.” I gripped my razor, my friend and ally, tight between my teeth, the star metal blade folded out. I spoke through my teeth, submitting a simple question. 
“Why did you do all that?” 
She was quiet for a moment, before her horn glowed and her chair turned about to face me.
“Well, all wealthy ponies need a nice summer home. And it was such beautiful land…” 
What happened next was a blur to me; my vision went red and I lashed out. I heard the makings of a scream, but the cry never came. When I finally returned to my normal self, I found that I had caused far more damage than I was used to. 
I began to worry. Fancy Pants was still sleeping, but in my fury I made an immense mess that I now would have to rush to clean up. 
I started with the obvious task of disposing of the body by shoving it into the crate. I didn’t have time to clean it off like normal, and when I first tried to move it I realized that I hadn’t exactly left her in one piece. I crammed Golden Treasure into the crate in the closet and moved on to dealing with the blood. I covered the seat with a black barber’s cape and began to wipe the blood from the surroundings. 
I tossed the rags into the closet on top of the crate and finally began to clean myself when I heard him begin to stir. I turned around while taking a quick glance around the room, making sure no evidence was left. My eyes fell upon my trusty razor, my dearest friend, and I realized I had yet to wipe the blood off. 
I panicked and lunged for it. It was obvious I only had seconds left, so solved the issue in the fastest way possible. Fancy Pants awoke and turned around to catch me wrapping my tongue around my razor, freshly shining with saliva. An awkward silence pervaded the atmosphere. I was silent. So was he. Finally, I spoke. 
“Let us never speak of this again.”
“Agreed good sir.”
The life of a royal assassin forces one to act quickly, and rumors circulate quickly in Canterlot. For the next few weeks every client I had requested that I hoof-wash my razor before I used it. Amazing how much one’s reputation can fall from a simple slip of the tongue. 
… Don’t give me that look. That was funny.