//------------------------------// // Welcome Wagon // Story: Elements of Larceny // by TheManWithTwoNames //------------------------------// Elements of Larceny A “My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic” fanfiction By TheManWithTwoNames “My Little Pony” and all subsequent properties used to belong to Hasbro and Lauren Faust, but some weird green pony showed up and now they can’t find it anywhere. Masky and Patsy are the results of some insane fever dream I had one time. It wasn’t fair! By Celestia’s beard, it just wasn’t fair! He was so close! He could practically taste those gems, and they had slipped through his hooves like a greased up purse. Was it too much to ask for just one little heist to go off without a hitch? But it didn’t matter now, not when it had all gone so wrong. “Would you get off the ground and quit your moaning already?” “My hooves are killing me, Patsy!” Masky cried in agony. “You’re the one who said we couldn’t stop until we got to the place.” “It’s the air,” Masky rasped. Patsy took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. “Country air does have a much fresher taste to it,” Patsy conceded. “I swear it’s toxic,” Masky manage to say between coughing fits. “It’s so empty. It’s like I’m not even breathing anything. This is it. This is hack the end. I’m going to suffocate out here. Come ‘ere, Patsy,” he beckoned his apathetic partner closer. “When I’m gone... promise me... huhack... promise me... you won’t touch my stuff.” Patsy rolled his eye and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He felt a small flame churning in the back of his throat and simply let it burn for a bit before he extinguished it with his tongue. He exhaled and spewed a thick, black smoke at Masky, completely shrouding him in the smog. After a few seconds, Masky happily trotted out of the cloud, a few traces of smoke trailing from him. “Aaaah,” he sighed, breathing out a small plume of black smoke, “tastes like the air back home. That’s air with substance, lemme tell ya. Not like this filtered, organic gunk they got out here.” “This really speaks volumes about the environment in the city,” Patsy said dully as the two resumed their march. “Horseradish! That sounds like hippie talk to me, and I won’t hear any of it,” Masky growled warningly. “Those tree huggers are up to something, mark my words.” “Maybe they just want to plant more trees to hug.” “Fat chance. You can’t trust anypony who’d chain themselves up to stop some overgrown twigs from being cut down. Or some dame who’d dip their hair in a vat of paint and say that ‘it’s for the animals.’ That kind of thinking isn’t natural.” Masky grit his teeth in the telltale sign that his train of thought was about to skip a few tracks. “If they had their way, we’d be back to the Stone Age, kicking rocks around and nibbling on grass next to some rabbits! Hippies are all enemies of ponykind, and once the big cheeses in Canterlot realize it, they’re all going down.” Having lived with Masky long enough to know when a conversation could only get worse, Patsy quickly changed the subject. “Have you ever thought of taking up smoking?” “What’s got you going now?” Masky grunted. “If you like that Manehattan air so much, maybe you should think of taking up smoking while we’re out on your wild goose chase.” “Criminy, Patsy, I would have thought I’d have raised you better,” Masky said, rubbing his temples in frustration. “I ain’t putting those death sticks anywhere near me. Those quacks in the news say that the smoke is murder on the lungs.” “You have to be kidding me right now,” Patsy said flatly, doing his best to hide his incredulity and utter bafflement at the claim. “Dead serious.” Patsy stared at him in silence for a while, trying to determine if Masky didn’t listen to himself when he talked, if he actually believed everything that came out of his mouth, or if he was just trying to get him worked up for a sick laugh. He’d known the con artist for all his life, and Patsy still had trouble figuring out how his accomplice ticked. And while part of him hoped Masky really was as pigheaded as he seemed, just so he could cash in on a lifetime’s worth of ‘I told you so’s’, another part reluctantly reminded him that things generally worked out for the two of them. Which would imply either some method to his madness or just plain dumb luck. A third part of him encouraged him to eat everything in sight and burn whatever was left, but he made a point to ignore his primal instincts until he had the muscle to get away with it. But after a day of non-stop trekking from the big city to the middle of nowhere, Patsy had begun to wonder if Masky knew something about their targets that he wasn’t sharing. The dragon had already expressed his doubts that the most valuable treasures in Equestria would be kept in some backwater farm town, and his thoughts were carefully considered and immediately shrugged off with an aggravated “Bah.” Patsy weighed his courses of action, and the decision to ask what Masky had planned just narrowly beat out the decision to roast and eat him. “So what exactly makes you think that the Elements of Harmony are going to be in...?” his voice waned as he tried to remember the name of the town. “Ponyville,” Masky finished the thought. “Ponyville? Seriously? Who’s the genius who came up with that name?” “Probably some hick farmers,” he said with a shrug. “That sounds about right. So why are we going to Ponyville instead of Canterlot where they keep all of the important stuff? I’m not saying that plan would be any less moronic, but it still would make more sense than this.” “The word on the street is—egh, let’s stop for a second, my hooves are killing me again. Hey, quit giving me that look. The word on the street is when that Discord nut popped up, first thing he did was snatch the elements right out from under the princess’ nose. And it’s obvious to anypony with two braincells to rub together that they wouldn’t stash them in the same place twice, so where else could they be?” Masky explained, grinning smugly at his explanation. “By that logic, literally anywhere in Equestria,” Patsy said tensely. “Well, boo on you,” he snapped back. “The other word on the street is that the princess’ go to gals live in Ponyville, so we can get them to squeal about where the goods are tucked away.” “And where did you hear that little nugget?” the juvenile dragon asked skeptically. Masky responded by clearing his throat and looking at a very interesting cloud. “I didn’t quite catch that.” “...Chet Rippo?” “Oh! Well then, how could I have ever doubted our mission? I never knew we got our information from Chet Rippo himself! This changes everything!” Patsy cried out, throwing his arms to the sky and taking a daring step closer to Masky. “What other grains of wisdom did he bequeath on you? Any advice on how to keep a trashcan fire burning for twice as long? Or maybe how to stop the Illuminati from reading your thoughts? Or perhaps he just mumbled something along the lines of ‘escrow re-financing with the tin can down at the bus stamp.’ Tell me if I’m close.” “There’s no need to get your tail in a twist.” “You dragged us out to the middle of bumbuck nowhere because of the ramblings of a crazy homeless guy!” Patsy shouted. “To his credit, he’s usually pretty accurate with his tips,” Masky said defensively. “Just how many times have you gone to him for information?” Patsy growled. “I don’t think I have to tell you,” Masky said coolly as he strode past his accomplice to put as much distance between himself and the fire-spitting reptile as possible. He watched from the corner of his eye as Patsy stomped around in circles, sputtering some incoherent syllables and kicking up dirt, and could only wonder where he learned to be so crabby when he had such a level-headed character for a role model. “So, what’s our plan, anyway?” Patsy grumbled after he caught up. “We steal the elements and then get filthy rich,” his partner explained while internally cursing the crumb who had the bright idea to lay down a road over a hill big enough to hide a train inside. He considered the idea for later use when Patsy was big enough to put a new twist on train robberies. “That’s really more of a goal than a plan.” “Fine! First, we steal the elements. Second, we get filthy rich!” Masky’s excitement was enhanced by the satisfaction of reaching the top of the hill. “Ah, well that’s much clearer.” Patsy grunted when a hoof caught him in the chest and stopped him in his tracks. He followed the Masky’s eyes to what he imagined was their destination standing just a few miles in the distance. Masky and Patsy shared a groan when they looked down at the buildings and wondered what kind of monkey they had in charge of zoning to wind up with everything all so thoughtlessly scattered about. Some buildings were completely isolated on the very outskirts of the town with nothing but open space for a quarter of a mile in every direction, while in other places there were some so tightly bunched together that it wouldn’t have surprised them to learn if they were trying to build a tower and the top half just fell off. Every wooden cottage looked like it had snuck away from a filly’s disgustingly saccharine fairy tale. All were painted the same blinding shade of white, topped with thatched roofs and plastered with cheery little windows. Trees dotted the sides of the grass roads that wound around Ponyville, and there was just a single peaceful stream that passed close to the edge of the town. A few of the buildings did break the mold. Conspicuously so, Patsy thought. One corner of the town was dominated by acres upon acres of farmland. He would have to start thinking of a few redneck jokes on the chance they stopped by the farmhouse to snatch some food. His whining stomach reminded him that he hadn’t gotten the chance to eat for over a day, and the combination of hunger and exhaustion made him wonder if he was hallucinating the building made out of candy and frosting. His private theory about the village escaping from a fairy tale was getting stronger by the second. “I’m gonna blow my wig if I wait any longer. Shake a leg, Patsy,” Masky called over his shoulder as he trotted down the hill. “We’ll slip in, grab the goods, and slip out and be like eggs in coffee.” “Easy there, Masky. You don’t want to add too many steps to the plan. Its beauty was in its simplicity,” he said as he ran just behind him. Masky came to a stop faster than Patsy could react, earning him a face full of pony posterior before he fell onto his back with a pained wheeze. Masky rubbed his chin in thought for a few seconds before his eyes lit up and his mouth warped into his signature grin. “Thanks for reminding me. Can’t be using real names while on the job or we’ll lead the cops right to us, see? So when we’re out in the field, you call me Slick.” “And what’s my alias?” “You’re Patsy,” Masky said simply. “Oh no, I’m not going be the one left holding the bag when this all goes to bits,” Patsy said, waving a claw at Masky’s snout. “I’ll be Smoke.” “I’m still calling you Patsy.” “Then I’m not calling you Slick!” “You will if you know what’s good for you! I could get a lot of scratch from selling dragon bones, you get me?” The two thieves butted heads, their eyes locked, daring the other one to try to be tough. Finally, Patsy snorted a tuft of hot air at Masky’s face and turned his head away indignantly. “Fine. But you can’t be wearing your mask when we’re there or ponies will start to ask questions,” he said. It wasn’t often that Patsy was able to stun Masky into silence, and even then, then the pony’s very nature wouldn’t allow him to stay quiet for long, but Patsy always relished those special periods of silence. It was like someone had taken a big, obnoxious, loud-mouthed vice off his head. “What the hay is this booshwash?” Clamp. “If you go in there wearing that, you might as well be wearing a shirt that says ‘Hello, Ponyville! I’m a crook! Please arrest me!’” “Well seeing as my name’s Masky, I think I can explain that away.” “A-ha!” Patsy shouted, his mouth cocked into a grin of his own. “So there you go. You can either be Slick or keep the mask. Take your pick.” Patsy could practically smell the smoke coming out of Masky's ears as he ground his teeth together in a twisted grimace. It was the first time he ever had to choose between ensuring that he could pull off a con and making sure he kept his stylish flair while doing it. After much thought and even more swearing, Masky made the wisest possibl edecision. “Fine. No aliases,” he grunted as he brushed past the smug dragon, making sure to bump into him and knock him a step back as he went. “But now we have to be extra covert, you read me?” “I’m not allowed to read, remember?” Patsy smiled innocently at Masky's growl. ========== “Welcome to Ponyville, The Apple of Equestria’s Eye!” Patsy read aloud as they stood in front of the gate to the town. A painfully colorful billboard stood proudly outside of the town, depicting a scene of smiling ponies laughing and playing together under a sunny sky. It was the kind of complete harmony and friendship you’d only ever see in a school foal’s arts and crafts project, or in a cultist colony. “Population: Four hundred ninety-five,” he continued, “I’m surprised. I hadn’t expected the locals to be able to count that high.” “Enough mucking around, Patsy, we got work to do,” Masky said with a trace of excitement as he began dragging his accomplice by the arm toward the gate. “Do you think we could get something to eat before we get started? I feel like I’m self-digesting here.” “Again? We just ate.” “We haven’t eaten in two days!” “Huh. Fine, we’ll grab a bite if there’s time,” Masky shrugged as he crossed through the gate and entered the town. “But I don’t want anypony recognizing us. We’re being covert, remember?” Before another word could be said, the whine of a siren tore through the air, a sound that the criminals had heard far too often to ever mistake. A cart with flashing red and blue lights flew down the streets heading directly for the entrance of the town. The sole pony riding on the vehicle had her eyes narrowed on the new arrivals with an intense purpose. “Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! A fine welcome to you!” Masky wasted no time in dashing for the nearest alleyway, barreling into confused ponies and knocking them to the ground in his frantic escape. He cursed the town as the alley did nothing to disorient their pursuer, being little more than just the space between two buildings rather than an extension of a labyrinthian safe haven. No sooner had he tumbled out of the alley than they found the cart fast upon him again, swerving around terrified locals with pinpoint precision. “You’ll never take me alive, coppers!” Masky shouted theatrically as he galloped down the road, kicking up as much dirt as possible in an attempt to hide his escape which only served to cover a pair of squealing purple and silver fillies with dust. His mind was racing as he snapped his head back and forth, trying to find someplace with a large enough mob to vanish into. He was completely baffled when he could only find wide, open streets with any ponies walking around giving a respectful berth to anyone around them. “What kind of savages live in this place? Haven’t they ever heard of crowding?!” “Check it out!” Patsy shouted over the growing cry of sirens, his single eye wide with excitement as he dashed down a new road. Masky swore and doubled back after his accomplice, finding a long street lined with tables, each displaying all kinds of fruits and vegetables and other goods. He spotted Patsy rushing toward a table of eggs, claws greedily bared to grab himself a quick snack. Masky ran at him just in time to swipe the eggs out of his hands. “Good thinking, kid!” Masky cheered as he threw the carton of eggs at the approaching wagon. The white shells exploded and covered the rider with gooey yolks, blinding her and making her lose control of her vehicle. Masky wasn’t sure what made him laugh harder, the sound of the wagon crashing into a tomato stand or the cry of the market owner demanding that he pay for the eggs. “I was going to eat those, you mule!” Patsy huffed as the two resumed their escape. “Then I just saved your tail again!” Masky retorted. “You can’t just wolf down eggs raw! They come out of a bird’s ass, you gotta clean off all the crap first!” The two didn’t stop until they were far from the market stands and ran to the outskirts of town, the sound of sirens was completely lost. The pair leaned up against a stone well as they tried to catch their breath. “I think... hah... hah... I think we shook ‘em...” Masky said. “Yeah... huh... huh...” Patsy threw his fist out to his side, catching Masky in the side. “Ow! What’s the big idea?” “That’s for throwing my eggs!” “Oh, come off it already,” Masky grunted, rubbing his sore ribs as he hobbled back toward Ponyville. “We’ve still got work to do.” “Are you nuts?” Patsy challenged as he joined him. “This place is crawling with cops! They already knew who we are!” “This wouldn’t have been a problem if we had aliases,” Masky said darkly. “Don’t you start that. We can’t stay here. We should head back to—” “Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! I say how do you do?” Both slowly turned their heads toward the well, their frustrations completely replaced with a terrible dread as a sinisterly pleasant voice echoed from inside the stone tunnel. Two hooves rose out from the edge, followed by a mare whose entire face was covered by her soaked and dirty mane. Everything except a manic smile. “I told you zombies were real!” It was all Masky could say as the two ran for their lives toward town as the pink abomination stalked after them. His instincts led him down another alley, and Masky skidded to a stop when he saw a garbage can standing underneath an open window. He leapt onto the can and, with another quick jump, got stuck halfway through the window. He fell onto his face when two claws pushed on his flank and forced him through. Masky quickly shut the window behind Patsy and leaned against a wall, thanking his luck that somepony was dim enough to leave their house wide open. “Hi! Who are you?” a bubbly voice asked. “Who’s asking?” Masky sneered. “Oh, sorry. My name’s Derpy Hooves! And you sort of jumped through my window,” the gray pegasus explained, sounding surprisingly cheerful for a mare who just saw two strangers break into her house. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” Patsy asked. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” Derpy returned innocently. “Hah! She got you good!” Masky laughed. “Yeah. I’m Masky, this grubber here is Patsy, and it looks like we’ll be staying here until the zombie apocalypse settles down.” “Well that sounds fine to me,” she said with a smile. “Oh, hi, Pinkie Pie!” “Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! I say ‘Hip-Hip-Hooray!’” The two didn’t waste time turning around. Masky lead the charge out of the house, nearly throwing the door off its hinges. “You forgot to lock the window?!” Masky barked. "You were the one who closed it!” A sudden explosion of confetti and streamers knocked the two on their backsides. They watched in fear as a pink pony came dancing out of the blast, gleefully hopping toward them. And with not a soul in sight to save them. “Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! To Ponyville toda~ay!” “Who are you?” Patsy asked, his voice trembling. “I’m Pinkie Pie! I’m just here to make sure that you had a super funtastical Ponyville welcome!” she said with a giggle. “But wow, do you guys like to play tag! That had to be the most exciting welcome I gave anypony in the last month!” “Yeah, we're pretty good at running away.” “Hey, how come your friend is sleeping?” Patsy turned to Masky and saw him lying motionless on the ground again, his legs spread out to his sides. His tongue hung limply out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes were glazed and lifeless. Patsy rose to his feet and gave Masky a light nudge in the ribs with his foot. “Come on, you bum, get up,” he said testily. “I know you aren’t dead, Luna forbid you make it that easy for me.” Silence. “I can’t believe you sometimes...” Patsy inhaled deeply, his chest swelling with air, and released a gust of black smoke over the prone stallion. After a few seconds, Masky sprung out of the cloud, looking like a million bucks. “Yowza, that hits the spot!” “Heeey,” Pinkie began, tugging on Patsy’s tail and flicking a few of his spines, “are you a dragon?” “That depends,” Masky said, stepping between Patsy and the bubbly mare, “are you a cop?” “Nope! I’m a baker! But on the weekends I work on the Ponyville zoning committee.” “Well that explains that,” Patsy muttered before her words completely sunk in and fell to his knees at Pinkie’s hooves. “Wait, you’re a baker? Like a chef? Like with food?” “You betcha! I can whip up pies and cupcakes and all sorts of other tasty stuff!” “Got any meat?” Patsy asked with a hopeful look. “Nope. Sorry. I got gummy bears,” Pinkie offered, handing the crestfallen dragon a single piece of candy. “You really don’t have any meat?” “Well I tried that one time with Rainbow Dash, but folks got all upset so I’m not supposed to do it anymore,” she said with a shrug. “Just so we all get each other,” Masky butted in again, “you said you ain’t a cop, yeah?” “Yuppers! In fact, I don’t think we even have any police in Ponyville. Weeell, Rarity mentions the fashion police sometimes, but I’ve never even seen them. I think it’s because it probably isn’t a crime to not wear clothes, but it’s weird that Rarity always says she’s so busy filling orders since I’ve never seen anypony wear anything around here except on super special occasions, and even then there aren’t many. But she’s always bringing stallions in for private fittings, so maybe there’s a secret club or OH! Do you think that those ponies might be the fashion police?” Patsy’s head was spinning as he tried to process the barrage of squeaky noises that escaped from Pinkie's mouth. Masky had been paralyzed, his yellow eyes as wide as the Hope Diamond. “Did you say,” he spoke unusually softly, “there’s no cops?” “Rightaroonie!” Pinkie chirped. According to local legend, Pinkie Pie was gifted with an entire arsenal of unexplainable and surreal abilities. And while she herself most prized her ability to recite the entire alphabet backwards, the citizens of Ponyville unanimously agreed that the most marvelous power she possesed was her ability to immediately cheer up a room with just the simplest of smiles. Celestia’s sun could scarcely compare to the brightness that Pinkie Pie’s smile could spread. But even the jubilant pony’s greatest, most overjoyed smile was dwarfed by the grin that now threatened to completely dominate Masky’s face. “I love this town.” “I do too! Ponyville’s just the best best best!” Pinkie sang as he pulled her two new best friends against her for a tight hug. “Oh! I still need to get ready for your party tonight!” “Party?” Patsy questioned as he tried to force his accomplice’s lips shut to hide his terrifying grin. “The ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party for you both! And I’ll have to make it a ‘Super Fun Game of Tag’ party! And a ‘Brand New Best Dragon Buddy’ party!” Pinkie clapped her hooves together in excitement. “With all these things to celebrate, we’re gonna be partying all night!” Finally back to his senses, Masky gave the mare a simple shrug. “We’ll try to make it. We might be busy tonight, toni—hanh?” Masky blinked in surprise at Pinkie Pie who was now wrapped around his leg, her begging eyes burning into whatever crummy bit of his soul was still sticking around. “But you just gotta come! You’re the guests of honor!” “Alright, alright, criminy!” Masky shouted, shaking his leg free. “We’ll crash your little shingdig.” “Do you Pinkie Promise?” “What the hay is a Pinkie Promise?” “It’s a special promise that you never ever break,” she explained, crossing her chest with hoof and lightly poking herself in the eye. “That’s it?” Masky asked flatly. “Look, dollface, I’m a stallion who’s well acquainted with the law and all sorts of legal mumbo jumbo. And where I come from, there ain’t nothing binding about doing a dance and gouging my eye out. What’s supposed to make me take that kiddy stuff seriously?” “Well everypony here takes it seriously,” Pinkie defended weakly. “My friend Twilight... no, she broke hers... and Applejack sort of cheated with hers...” “Is she still talking to us? Because I’m lost,” Patsy whispered to Masky. Both Manehattanites jumped when their greeter suddenly cried out. “I’ll just make a new and improved Pinkie Promise! With legal humba wumba!” “You mean mumbo jumbo.” “Him too! Come on!” Pinkie grabbed Patsy by the tail and flung him onto her back. “We can go ask Twilight to help. I’m sure she’ll know all sorts of stuff about promises! Or she’ll have a book. She kind of has a book about everything.” Pinkie didn’t give the two a chance to object and immediately bounced off. “Hey, where you do you think you’re going with my lizard?” Masky called as he scrambled after the two. “To see my friend Twilight! I just said that, duh!” Pinkie answered without slowing a beat. “She lives in the library. Well, it’s a tree, but we use it as a library.” “You really got ponies still living in trees out here?” “Not everypony. Just the smart one.” “Of course.” “And she has a baby dragon, too! You and Patsy just have to meet Twilight and Spike! They’re going to just love you!”