//------------------------------// // The Legion of Anti-Dash // Story: Appledashery // by Just Essay //------------------------------// WHAM! A hairy paw slammed onto a table beneath a spotlight inside a dark room. “Mangy hound?!” Top Dog snarled, accompanied by two other surly canines brandishing spears. The diamond dog's other arm was slung in a cast, and his body still sported over a dozen heavy bruises. “I paid good money to be here, ya stupid hay-stuffer!” “Watch your tone with the Don!” a suited stallion snarled from the far side of the table. “He's only entertaining you mutts because we have a common interest! So stick your tail between your legs and shut up!” Schiiing! Top Dog unsheathed a large blade. “I'm not the only creature with a tail that can be removed and shoved somewhere else, pal!” “You wanna make something of it?!” The room filled with angry noise and commotion from every stranger around the table. Hooves clopped in frustration while diamond dogs snarled. On one edge of the table, a glass jar contained a flickering Baslisk eye marinating in bubbling green liquid. The pupil spun around, its container rattling in consternation. “Quiet, everypony... quiet!” a wheezing voice snarled. Everyone settled down while an old, obese stallion leaned towards the table with thin eyes. “Everypony's capable of making mistakes, but rampant stupidity is completely inexcusable.” He adjusted his silk suit and waved a hoof for emphasis. “Take my organization, for example. We're usually very careful and calculated in every business decision that we make. However, in this day and age of returning lunar princesses and mares farting rainbows, it's very easy to be distracted. That's the only reason why we made the mistake of thinking that this Photo Finish dame was the one responsible for taking what belonged to me, Don Canter, when in fact it was this... third party pegasus, solely and exclusively.” “I know!” Top Dog snarled. “She and some rampaging minotaur destroyed the Big Bitchin' Bitch!” He punched the table again. “I want her dead! Don't you too?!” “Shhhh... patience... patience my tail-wagging friend.” Don Canter rasped, “Killing her simply won't do. If she has your shards and mine, then it's simply a matter of finding out where she's collected them.” The reptilian eye rattled in its jar, making a faint squeaking noise. Don Canter struggled to not roll his eyes. “No... she wouldn't have put it in your old lair. Besides, that place is overflowing with bone-headed buffalo now.” He glanced at the others. “What we need to do is figure out where she lives and that way we can stage a delightful little welcoming party together. We invite all of her friends, family... everypony she'd love to see and would hate to see their guts hanging up over the ceiling fan, Capiche? Then when she's right in the corner where we want her, we get her to cough up what's ours. Everypony—and dog... andsquishy eye thing goes home happy.” Ponies applauded. Dogs barked. The glowing jar hopped in place. “Then where do we begin?!” Top Dog asked. “I'm down to my last pike-wielding puppy!” “My stallions who failed in their latest business venture confessed the name of a place right before I sent them down the Haydson with cement horseshoes,” Don Canter wheezed. “A kingdom allegedly called 'Awesometopia.' Right now, as we share this table of community, friendship, and daggers, my more professional hitstallions are hitting up every embassy in Manehattan for info.” “And they'll end up with a lot of manure!” screeched a voice from the shadows. Everyone turned to look—then gasped as a thoroughly bruised pair of henchstallions were tossed like meatbags onto the table-top. Thud! The eye-in-a-jar fell on its side while the two thugs moaned. Th-Thap! A set of talons and lion paws landed on the table's edge. Top Dog and his fellow canines brandished their polearms. “Bark?!” As the murmurs of surprise quieted down, Don Canter calmly cleared his throat and spoke. “What brings you to my table with two of my most trusted business associates so thoroughly bruised?” “They were mince meat from the beginning,” Romulus hissed, his feathery body once again clad in full mercenary regalia. “I could easily have torn my way through this whole party if I wanted.” “And instead, you came here with a purpose.” Don Canter pointed. “A creature of determination. I like that... even if I have to stare through a dumb pigeon's beak to see it.” “Shut it, you Bitalian-Equestrian fatso!” Romulus snarled. An angry thug galloped up to his side, but the griffon had an arm-mounted crossbow with a razor-sharp barb aimed at his gullet in under a second. Glaring at him and the others around the table, the bounty hunter spoke on: “Believe it or not, I'm at my wit's end too. There are several employers who need me to gather the shards. If we work together, we might just be able to do that before the likes of Aatxe and his brood gather them all up!” “Oh yeah?” Top Dog squinted. “And just what's in it for us? We need the shards too!” “You'll forget about the shards once my employer pays each and every one of you with enough gold to buy out the Canterlot Treasury ten times over...” Romulus' hawkeyes narrowed on the jar. “...or even a way out of Tartarus for all your brimstone buddies.” The reptilian eye squeaked and blinked. “Hrmmm...” Don Canter rubbed his cheek. “I'm listening.” “First thing's first...” Romulus frowned. “There is no 'Awesometopia!' I've checked!” The thugs and criminals gawked at one another, murmuring in shock. “Second...” Romulus sneered. “... this pegasus... this supposed 'Madame Firefly'... she's been working with one of my former associates, a sarosian by the name of Noir.” “You know a sarosian?” a thug asked. “And yet you're still breathing?” “In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm good at what I do.” Romulus turned towards the others. “And what I do is hunt ponies down. You want to bag this mare? Fine. We'll do it.” He hissed as he retracted the crossbow. “But we'll do it my way. And we'll start in Fillydelphia.”