//------------------------------// // Act I Pt I // Story: Hearths Warming: Scrooge // by Daxisle //------------------------------// Act I Pt I It was a cold and foggy day in the small village of Ponyville. Typically, around the time of Hearths Warming Eve, the small town would be in a frenzy of happy and colorful decorations, full of lights, ornament ridden trees and the merriest of musical delight; complete with the dancing of the young and the old. The local bakery of Sugar Cube Corner would have it's nationally acclaimed pastries litter the town, the delicious treats of chocolate and sugar bringing smiles to even the most despairing of ponies. Love, laughter, hospitality and all things good were the very soul of what made Ponyville as well as its citizens... Alas, economic hardship had befallen the small village this recent year. The town's apple harvest had failed to deliver it's typical bounty thanks to an unrelenting cold that had gripped the small region. It started a few years ago, but slowly and steadily became worse over time, Freezing and killing a great deal of the apple crops. And with out the village's trademark export, very little money was pumped into the economy to stimulate the accustomed growth. As such, the town had few lights, the streets that should have been filled with singing and warmth only held faces of sadness or indifference. Scurrying along with not but the most depressing of slow paces. Children did not dance, the trees lay bare and the music did not play. Unless on considered the low clanking of hooves on cobblestone and the low grumbles of miserable ponies "music". And there was... Within the heart of the small village, an old banker sat in his office while overlooking a few loan proposals from some street merchants looking to set up shop. The three candles he used as light twinkled off his dull blue eyes, his mouth contorted into a permanent sneer as he analyzed the business propositions. Sin Scrooge, one of the few ponies in the world who didn't care much for the faux kindness of the world, convinced that all ponies were simply out for their own self interest and gain; irrespective of the consequence so long as they could get away with it. He believed that deep down, all sentient beings: whether pony, minotaur, griffin or all others, weren't really genuine in their proclaimed "kindness" and "love". An act. A bunch of well rehearsed performances where ponies would pretend to like each other to keep up appearances was all he ever saw in them. Repressing their true feelings for the sake of remaining politically correct and presentable to their friends, family and culture... and by all things did he hate such deception. Oh Sin was no saint by any means, who else would foreclose on a newly opened bakery during a recession when the tenants would knowingly be put out onto the street because the company didn't make enough money? This guy! He felt no guilt, after all; it wasn't his fault that the pastry house couldn't make ends meet, and that's what he told them in the contract. Unlike the many around him, he didn't lie about who he was or how he truly felt. He didn't give corny smiles to strangers trying to butter him up with conversation, he didn't nod to the failed poet looking for a hand out of food, and he certainly didn't pretend to care about the children using outdated textbooks and learning in less than ideal conditions in school. No, no he was above that. He may have been a lot of things: A cynic, a greedy banker, a tough landlord and a stifler for the rules of agreement, but he couldn't be called: Underhanded, a cur, and most importantly; a liar. He placed his hoof atop his forehead. He hadn't lived in Ponyville long, a few years or so. His usual clientele in Trottingham, while much more pretensions and pompous, were at least respectful of his intelligence. "Did these idiots think that just because they asked him on Hearths Warming Eve that he'd accept such ridiculous propositions? The nerve!" He scoffed before grasping onto a stamp and slamming down a bold, red print "REJECTED" upon all three forms before throwing them in the stack to be sent to his naive assistant, Macintosh, so he could give the imbeciles the bad news. It wasn't so much that he hated the ponies who tried to pull fast ones on him, that'd be like hating a mantacore for wanting to maul and eat him, he just didn't like being scammed. Er the attempt anyway. "Mistah Scrooge?" A soft and deep voice called. The oaken stallion let out a sigh and looked up from his desk to find the emerald eyes of his soft spoken assistant peering at him from the door way. "May Ah have a word with ya?" Sin took a breath and beckoned Macintosh in. He knew what this was about, he'd had this conversation every year around Hearths Warming and it would seem he'd have to have it yet again. Side stepping the small talk, Sin skipped right to the point. "If you're about to ask for Hearths Warming off, the answer is the same as it was last year." Mac's eyes drooped almost instantly, but unlike last year, he didn't turn around after the request was outright rejected. "Mistah Scrooge, Ah need tah take it off this time." He said, his voice uncharacteristically unwavering. Sin looked up with a quirked brow, Macintosh had worked under him from the time he'd bought this shill of a building. Helping him restore it and make it into a presentable banking operation of loans and interest. With as mild mannered as the red pony had always been, the stand he made here was pretty remarkable to say the least. "And why is that?" "It's mah sister, Applebloom." Mac replied, his face softening to one of the most disparaging looks the manager had ever seen, and that was coming from a pony who'd heard almost every sob story in the world. "Sh-" he took a breath to steady his shaking voice. "Th- the doctor's say this migh' be her last Hearth's Warmin' with us, on account o' her condition." Oh yes, he did say that his younger sister had some kind of sickness. Never really went into too much detail on it though. "You think that's my concern?" Sin asked motioning to the "OUT" labeled file holder for his assistant to take. "No, sir. Ah was jest hopin' ya'd let me have the next few days off is all." Sin dropped the two pieces of paper he was holding, his face frozen in shock and his eyes locked on red pony's own. Two days off? TWO, in a row?! "At this time of year? I'm afraid that such a request is unthinkable." He said shaking his head and going back to his papers. This was defiantly new, but he had other matters to attend to. He wanted to get these last few loan applications reviewed before heading home for the night. "That wasn't a request." Sin had to stop from outwardly flinching, he looked up to see the eyes of a stallion who's mind was dead set on a decision made. He'd seen the look a few times in his life, the look that spoke of a pony's will and their steel. It was a key trait the banker sought when deciding on if giving a loan was a good idea or not, and his gut had never let him wrong in deciding yes. As naive and young as Sin thought the Apple, he was a hard worker and one of the few whom he'd never heard a complaint from. Mix that with the fact the only mistakes he'd ever made were early and understandable and the long hours he'd always put in and you had yourself a pony worth keeping around. Deciding to buildup the tension a bit, Sin put a hoof to his chin before nodding and granting the request. It was, after all, still his business and his decisions on who was on his staff. While he did feel some what bad for Mac and genuinely hoped he'd give his sister's last Hearth's Warming one to remember before her passing, his decision was purely in the interest of keeping a good employee. "You know-" he started wistfully. "In all the time I've known you, this is the first time you've ever made a demand of me." Mac gulped, but remained steadfast. "Years you've done as I've asked and kept up with your work, late into the early hours of the morning if need be, even if it was with out pay. I suppose it would be who of me to give you a few days off with your family." Almost instantaneously, the stallions calm demeanor lit up into a smile like a child who'd just opened up their Hearths Warming presents. "Thank ya, Mistah Scrooge." "Don't get too excited." The business pony interjected, killing the serine mood. "This will be a one time thing. Now, please file those documents for tomorr-" He paused and corrected. "Monday's meeting with Mr. Thunderlane. After that, call it a night." With a choras of repeated "thank you's" the cheerier stallion took the papers and made way back to his desk. Well, it may have cost him an entire day of productivity, but at least that ordeal was over and done with. No appointments were scheduled for the rest of the night, and aside from going through the books for the evening Sin had only one thing left to do for the day. It was the one thing that made dealing with the liars of the world worth it, to endure their insufferable fake smiles and forced kind tones. It was always done at the end of the day to give him at least something to look forward to: counting the money in the register. That was, until the towns charity drive burst into his doorway with a jolly "Hahaha!" His day of torment had yet to end it appeared. "Good afternoon, Mister Scrooge!" Sang a pristine alabaster mare with long, curly, royal purple locks falling freely to her shoulders. Rarity, the town's generous beauty, was accompanied by her little sister who oft helped with the mare's "compassionate" work. A small filly who oozed holiday cheer and smiles that made the banker want to slam his head into the desk repeatedly. Sin had grown to despise charity drives, as if it wasn't enough they'd taken the money he'd loaned them, pissed it all away on ridiculous ventures that he loaned them soley due to his impaired judgement because of a bottle of imported vodka on Thanksgiving last year, thus effectively destroying both their credit and drowning them in debt, but then they ask for more through the middle mare before him? To give her money so she may give it to the very ponies who'd taken advantage of him? Pft, Screw that! "Happy Hearth's Warming, Mister Scrooge!" Sweetie chirped with enough sweetness to induce a diabetic coma. Sin regarded the two for a moment, his mind drifting a bit. 'Speaking of Vodka, don't I still have a little left in the drawer? Yes, I think I do, might be a decent holiday after all. Wait, what were these two- oh yea." "Hearth's Warming," He chuckled mirthlessly, his cynical stance on the holiday was no secret, and that's the way he liked it. "So, I assume there's a reason for your visit besides pointing out the upcoming holiday?" Rarity chuckled. "Why yes, yes there is dear." Here it comes. "We've stopped by to see if you'd like to offer any donations to this years Festival of Love." Is that what they're calling it now? Wow... His stance may have changed for Mac this year as opposed to last, but no such luck would be given to Rarity or her silly pan handling. "Harvest of Love? Hmph," He went back to his papers. "Quite the emotional play on words there, Miss. Rarity." "That would be Misses Rarity." She corrected, condescension lining her words. Moving some paper's to ease the growing stress, Sin dismissed the charity organizer with a shrug. "Irrelevant, my answer is still no." That was that, the banker knew what would come next: A scoff of indignation, an eye roll and the ever popular and self righteous talking behind his back. First came the scoff and then the eye roll, that was enough for his inner self to smirk. 'You'd think she'd change up the show every once in a while.' The back talking had to wait though as yet another pony burst into his office. "Happy Hearth's Warming uncle Scrooge!" Bellowed the jolly dark grey earth pony. Sin stopped himself from groaning at his nephew's less than tactful entrance 'Oh joy, and the problems just keep on coming.' What made the stallion's coming even worse was the fact Sin had explicitly told Neo two weeks ago that he had no plans on attending his annual family gathering. It wasn't that he hated his family, it was just he had no interest in talking to them. Why couldn't the bloody idiot see that already?! Never the less, this was a place of professionalism and as such, he greeted his nephew with the most polite of hellos he could manage. Which landed some where between a cat hissing and a mantacor grumbling. The happy stallion ignored the restrained tone and wondered in to give his uncle a hug. "It's good to see you, again. Having a good Eve are you?" Sin quickly pushed the well built pony away and dusted himself off. He didn't bother with any more pleasantries and went straight to the point of telling his kin that he still had no plans of attending his party. "Ok, what's the excuse this time?" "Lack of interest." Neo chuckled deeply. "Same ol' uncle Scrooge... Oh, good evening Misses Rarity." Neo took a bow, acknowledging the other bodies in the room. "I'm glad to here old Graves finally tied the knot." "Oh thank you, darling." She accepted gracefully. "I'm so happy he finally proposed, I couldn't believe the way he proposed, it was a-" And that's all Scrooge cared to hear before harshly clearing his throat and requesting the two to please take their conversation outside of his business. Neo, suddenly remembering why he came, was about to remake the offer but Sin cut him off. "No, I don't want to go to your house for Hearth's Warming and no," he turned his attention to Rarity," I don't want to donate any money to the parasites of society. Now, good night to you both." And with that, the two considered arguing but thought better of it. With dejected sighs the two ponies and single filly slowly left his office and closed the door behind them. Going back to his work, Sin couldn't help but overhear the voices from the other side of his door. "Hey Rarity? Why does Mr. Scrooge hate everypony?" "Oh Sweetie Bell, some ponies are, how do I put it, just not as nice as the rest..." The voices trailed off there, and Sin couldn't be happier about it. He was quite through with distraction for one day and was almost done with the paper work. After this, the night would be all smooth sailing from here. He might even buy a carrot to eat with his porridge for tonight. "Mr. Scrooge?" Sin's face immediately fell to his desk in utter frustration. There just had to be one more thing didn't there? Always that one last thing to add when he wanted a day to be over with. Every. Freaking. Time. "Ah'm finished with mah work and am headin' home." "Very well." Sin took a breath. "I'll see you on Monday, and be prepared to make up for the time you've lost." Macintosh nodded furiously and left with his last words of gratification for the day. Sin immediately dashed for the front door, turned the opened sign to "closed", locked the dead bolt and shut the drapes. 'Finally.' He thought as he turned his eyes to he cash register. His scowl softening to a gaze of desire with every step. The register opened, accompanied by his favorite sound in the world, cha ching. He looked upon the copious bits of gold inside. Today wasn't the best day his business had ever had, but that didn't concern him. New money was new money, and if there was only on thing he valued on this earth, it was money. Emptying out the register into a coin purse, he brought the bag to his back desk and set it gently upon the spruce surface. His hoof slowly drew open the drawer and retrieved the clear bottle from it's confines. The stallion smiled, as he observed the amount within. It wouldn't get him plastered, but it would certainly be enough to get him where he wanted to be. The first few shots all but erasing the past hour of his life, the banking pony started to count his money, placing the coins in to neat little towers for tally. His body felt tingly, and his mind a fuzzy kind of pleasant.Sin's typically stone cold face was now almost a light with the love of his life being placed in high stacks in front of him. He wasn't sure when he'd fallen in love with money, or placed its value even above that of his own health, but something about the shimmering and shining of gold just made him feel all warm inside. Or maybe that was the alcohol, hard to say at this point. Just as he was about to place the final coin atop the largest tower he'd made, the bit slipped from his hoof and went tumbling off his desk to the floor below. "Dammit." He cursed, lowering himself to the floor and reaching for the bit. In retrospect, perhaps having a huge desk that weighed five times as much as he did wasn't the greatest idea in the world. The elusive coin had, to his chagrin, rolled underneath the monolith with the clear ringing of it falling to its side. Never one to let a single bit go to waste, Sin quickly deconstructed the towers and pushed with all his might to make the desk move until he found the precious little bit of currency on the floor. Suddenly his breath caught in his throat and the startled pony recoiled in shock. There, beneath his desk were crudely drawn red marking of bit signs perfectly circling the coin, each linked together like some kind of chain, with four lines reaching straight for the middle. He rubbed his eyes and looked again to find the markings gone. 'Wow, I must be more drunk than I thought.' he chuckled before quickly picking up his money, sticking it inside his coin purse moving back his desk. After that, he proceeded to place all of his earnings for the day into the walk in vault in the back and close down the bank. Money counted, safe's locked, key's in his bag and he was ready to stagger home for the night. The air was cool and the snow crunched loudly beneath his hooves. He turned to admire his the small building for a moment. It wasn't anything special, aside from the slightly darker color scheme and more economical plainness. While the rest of the small town was customized and expressive, his business was a simple rectangular box. Boring, efficient, safe and cheap. Just like he wanted it. He turned away from his company and heard a small clanking in his bag. He opened it up to find the bit from before had yet to be put in the vault! But instead of reopening the building and the safe, the stallion simply decided to spend the money on that carrot he was thinking about earlier. Porridge was fine and all, but maybe he could allow himself a vegetable just this once. Quickly making way for the market place, he found only one of the vendors still open. At first he cursed his luck, but was happily surprised to see the keep sold vegetables. With the sudden wind assaulting his naked form, Sin quickly made way through the snow and sought to conduct commerce. "Evening, Mr. Scrooge." Said the shop keeper. His face hidden behind a pulled down hat and scarf. "What can I interest you in?" A darker lilac was certainly common enough a coat color, Sin couldn't say he'd ever seen the pony around before. Still something was oddly familiar about him. He found the precarious little vendors cart to hold just the prize he sought and offered to buy one of the biggest carrots he'd ever seen. The shop keep chuckled and agreed, handing over the orange root and taking the single bit payment. "Hmmm," he mused aloud, calling Sin's interest. "This is a strange bit." Sin quirked a brow and took a closer look. The coin while having the correct heads, had a distinctly different tails than any he'd ever seen. Instead of the Sun and moon over seeing the Canterlot Castle, it was of a bunch of bit symbols circling around the center on the outer edge. That must have been what gave him that hallucination from before, just a trick of the light. "Quite," He agreed, pocketing his soon to be side. "Thank you, my good sir, but I'd best be on my way." "Of course, thank you for your patronage..." The stallion slowly lifted his head, revealing large, green, serpentine eyes. "Partner." Scrooge stood awestruck, those eyes. Those eyes looked just like... "Something wrong, sir?" He looked again to find the pony's eyes hidden by his hat again, his smirk never fading. "Y- Yes, everything is... fine. Thank you." He slowly walked away, checking behind him to see the vendor one last time before turning the corner. It must have been the alcohol, no pony -aside from batponies- held serpentine eyes. He was just seeing this is all, that had to be it; nothing a good night's sleep couldn't shake off.