Rarity stepped from the train with a flick of her mane, pulling her bags along with her. Manehatten’s train station really was a marvelous piece of architecture. The tan colored marble tiles of the floor were polished to a gleam, while the sandy walls were accented with sleek statues carved in the nouveau style. Even the ceiling was marked with an impressive mural of the night sky, the stars enchanted to cast light across the interior of the structure.
Pinkie Pie and Skitch joined her a moment later with their own bags. Pinkie was still a sugar-rush personified, with her wide grin, and the way her eyes darted to each and every new pony she saw trotting across the floor.
Skitch-Sketch looked...rather at home really. Not excited, nor scared, she stepped off the train with a relaxed stride, adjusting her saddlebags with a flick of spell power.
“So, I suppose that the first step is to find a place to stay?” She asked. “Not to expensive, not to cheap would be my vote.”
Rarity nodded. She had the hotel in mind already, in fact. Her father always was the practical one, so the one he was staying at would do their little group nicely.
“I have just the place in mind.” She called, trotting for the doors.
Skitch and Pinkie followed along, Skitch actually pulling ahead as they stepped out onto the street. Said streets were packed with ponies, the yellow and black marked pull cabs so iconic to the city stopping every now and again to allow passengers to get in.
Rarity blinked at the back and forth flow of chaos that was unfolding before them. The cabs barely seemed to wait before they took off with their equine cargo. She wasn’t sure how they were going to get the attention of a driver-
Skitch marched right to the curb, letting loose a sharp whistle while waving a few bits above her head. One of the cabs immediately swooped in, a dark brown stallion with roguish smile winking at the three of them.
“Need a ride ladies? Tour of the cities night life spots?”
Oh my. Rarity thought, stepping forward with a smile. She really is in her element here.
“Of course.” She answered the cabbie, tossing her bags onto the back seat, Pinkie and Skitch adding their own a moment later. “The Royal Hotel please. Tenth and fifty-seventh I believe.”
“Sure thing miss!”
With a nod, Rarity daintily climbed into the front seat, Pinkie Pie hopping in right behind her, and Skitch squirming in last. The minute they were all situated, the driver took off with a start, his hooves hammering hard on the wide streets of Manehatten.
A yelp escaped Rarity’s lips as he accelerated to a full gallop, weaving in between the other cabs on the road like some kind of...of...mad stallion!
“Weee!” Pinkie giggled at her side, hooves waving in the air with reckless abandon.
“Nice to see that cabbies drive like nuts in Equestria too.” Skitch dryly commented from her own seat.
Rarity clung to the dash rail of the cab, eyes wide as her mane whipped in the wind. The cab carriage whipped around a corner, sending Pinkie sliding into her side with another giggle. She instinctively grabbed at Pinkie, latching onto her friend and squeezing her eyes closed.
Should have walked! Should have walked! Should have walked! She repeated in a mental mantra as her world became a mad shuffle of motion and sound.
And then with a sudden stop, the journey was as over as soon as it began. She opened one, then the other, and finally peered over the mass of pink curls that was Pinkie Pie’s hair to see the face of a building rising before them.
“Royal Hotel.” The cabbie happily chirped. “That’ll be fifteen bits.”
“Fifteen bits for almost getting us killed!” Rarity shouted. “Where did you learn how to pull a cart?!”
“Hey, you didn’t have to take the ride lady.” He glowered, the tone in his voice turning immediately confrontational. “It’s fifteen bits or we get the authorities involved for trying to skip out on a fare.”
“Twelve bits, fifty jangles.” Skitch countered. “And not a jangle more because of the trauma you inflicted on my friend here.”
“Fourteen.” The cabbie fired back.
“Thirteen.” Skitch said with a finality in her voice. “And you’ll be able to say that you gave two of the Elements of Harmony a ride.”
The cabbie blinked, looking back at Rarity and Pinkie with dawning realization. His attitude turned on a jangle, once again snapping back to his previous grin. “That’ll be fine.”
Rarity made for her coin purse, but Skitch held up a hoof before carefully counting out a collection of coins from her own. With their driver paid, they collected their bags and made for the hotel door.
“Never try to out negotiate a Jew.” Skitch chuckled.
Rarity tilted her head slightly at that statement. While Skitch-Sketch was a perfectly friendly pony, Rarity couldn’t help but notice that there there were certain things that she rarely brought up. Earth, her life before becoming Skitch-Sketch, and her family...well unless directly prompted she was vague on all of those things, speaking in broad terms. And in terms of the fictional portrayals of herself and the rest of the element bearers, Skitch had grown even more tight lipped since Trixie’s visit.
Not that Rarity could really blame her for her silence. She had seen the film of Skitch’s breakdown over her failed attempts to return to earth, and suspected that she was hiding from those dark thoughts by focusing on Equestria. But there was one big question in her mind still.
“What’s a Jew?” Pinkie asked the question for her, “Is it anything like juice? Do Jews drink juice? Oooo! I could go for some juice right now!”
Skitch paused, hoof on the door. She gave Pinkie an odd look. Then she snickered, before an out and out laugh escaped her lips.
“Hehehe.” She giggled, before stepping into the rest of the way into the building. “Ahh, Pinkie, I can always count on you to lighten the mood.”
The lobby was simple, but well maintained. Rarity wasn’t sure she would have gone with red for the carpet. It clashed so horribly with the cream colored couches that were scattered about for ponies to sit on, and the few small rose plants in the corners.
“Well,” Skitch began to explain as they crossed towards the check in desk. “The Jewish people are an ethnic and religious grouping of people on my planet. Though the religion itself is called Judaism.”
“Oh, okay.” Pinkie nodded. “That’s okay Skitchy, you don’t have to explain more.”
“Huh?” She blinked, looking confused. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Not really dear.” Rarity answered. “It’s just that religion and spirituality are very personal things in Equestria. To just waltz up to somepony and question their beliefs is considered to be amazingly rude.”
“Wow…” Skitch blinked. “Now that’s just surreal.”
Drawing level with the counter, Rarity rapped the surface to get the attention of the front desk clerk. The skyblue pegasus stallion snapped to attention. “How many rooms ladies?” He questioned, sliding the guest book over to them.
“One with three beds, if you can arrange it.” Rarity answered.
“Well, we have a room on the second floor with two beds, a single and a princess, will that do?”
“That’ll do fine.” Rarity nodded, quickly filling out the book.
Bits were exchanged for keys, which were then passed out among the three.
“Very well then. Shall we take our bags up to the room and unwind a little?” Rarity asked.
“Actually, I’m going to head over to the Palace Theatre and see exactly what they want me to do there.” Skitch answered.
“Ooo! I’m going to go with!” Pinkie beamed, with a few bounces in place. “I’ve always wanted to see the Palace!”
“Very well. If you give me your bags, I shall go and take them to the room.”
Pinkie and Skitch passed their saddlebags over, Rarity draping them over her back. Exchanging another nod, the two groups split up, Rarity heading for the stairs while Pinkie and Skitch headed out the door.
Well. Rarity thought as she took the stairs. I suppose I might as well touch base with my father once I drop the bags off.
- - - -
Skitch floated a map of Manehatten- acquired from the front desk- before her, plotting the course to the apparently legendary (according to Pinkie at least) Palace Theatre. Pinkie Pie bounced alongside her, humming a cheerful and somewhat infectious tune. She smiled. The presence of the pink one couldn’t help but bolster her spirits.
And watching Pinkie essentially engage in fangirl squeeing over seeing a legendary Equestrian entertainment location was probably one of the most adorable things she had seen since arriving in this reality.
The fact that ponies were just as capable of becoming fanboys and fangirls...or would that be fanstallions and fanmares? Well, either way it was quite comforting in its own way.
“So, Pinkie.” She asked. “You said that you grew up listening to these vaudeville broadcasts?”
“Yuppers!” She nodded. “I was a little colicy as a foal, so my parents tried putting a radio in my room. And all of the vaudeville broadcasts would always help me go out like a light! As early as I can remember, I remember laughing and smiling to the radio.”
“Wait a minute.” Skitch interrupted, raising an eyebrow at that particular bombshell. “I thought you didn’t smile or laugh until you got your cutie-mark. When Dash did her sonic rainboom for the first time.”
“Now, why would you think something like that silly filly?” Pinkie giggled, giving Skitch a friendly pat on the head.
“Because, it was my understanding that on the rock farm, you spent your days ‘Working the fields.’ and that upon those fields ‘There was no talking, there was no smiling, there was only rocks.”!”
“Well, duh there was no smiling out in the fields! It’s rock farming! It’s like your writers don’t have any idea how hard rock farming really is!”
Blinking again, Skitch carefully folded up the map before answering. “Well, Pinkie, they wouldn’t, for two very important reasons. The first being that, as writers, rock farming isn’t really in their…” She waved a hoof, searching for the right word, “Repertoire. And perhaps, more importantly, rock farming is completely impossible on earth.”
“Huh...where do you get your rocks for building then?”
“Quarries, mostly. We dig them out of the ground.”
“Oh.” Pinkie blinked. “...That sounds kind of boring, really. I mean, if you dig the rocks up, how do you get rock candy?”
Skitch paused, then shook her head. “Yeah, I suppose it does. Anyway.” She waved a hoof at one of the buildings on the street. “We’re here.”
The building itself was constructed from sandstone and had a simple marque that jutted forward from the face, a smaller sign displaying the theatre’s name immediately under it. It was a far cry from the pictures of its earth based counterpart that she had seen on Google, with its full sized marquees that blocked the whole of the building.
“Like stepping back in time.” Skitch smiled.
“Come on!” Pinkie shouted, charging through the doors without a care in the world. Skitch followed along, trotting past the empty ticket booths within, and into the red carpeted lobby where Pinkie had already been intercepted by two familiar looking stallions. The yellowish coats, the red and white striped manes and tails, the matching straw boater hats.
“Ahh, brother! There she is!” Flim grinned, sweeping his hat off his head with a magical flourish.
“Quite right brother.” Flam agreed, flashing his own grin past his neatly trimmed moustache.
Skitch gave them a shifty glance as they approached to greet her. A pair of neatly pressed suit jackets, the same color as their bowties, had been added to their look from The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, giving her the impression that this version of the brothers might be better off money wise. The one difference, however, was their cutie-marks. Rather than the split apple, their flanks bore the comedy and tragedy masks. More specifically, Flim had comedy and Flam tragedy.
Flim clapped her on the back, still flashing that salesman grin. “I imagine you’re not quite familiar with us. I’m Flim, he’s Flam, and we’re the world famous Flim Flam Brothers of Perfect Pegasus Productions. Glad that you could make the trip up here to Manehatten Miss Skitch-Sketch.”
“Uhh. Yeah.” Skitch grinned, trying to put her knee jerk reaction on the shelf. After all, this universe's version of Trixie was not what she suspected, and the two ponies in front of her didn’t even have the same cutie-marks as the pair that tried to take Applejack’s farm. “Your letter indicated that you wanted someone to do effect work for a production?”
“That’s right.” Flam nodded, Pinkie wandering back and forth behind him, examining every inch of the lobby. “That, and we could use a bit of an outsider eye on our production. We have a real epic in the works, and both of you ponies have been involved in some truly epic things!”
“Quite right brother!” Flim agreed.
“Oh, wow!” Pinkie interrupted, her eyes even wider than usual. “You mean I get to help on something that’s going to be shown in THE PALACE!?!”
“If you’re ready and willing my dear! We’d be more than happy to have the Element of Laughter involved!”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.” Skitch frowned. “I’m not agreeing to anything until I see a contract of some kind.”
“Oooh!” Pinkie gasped. “Are you going to use your special Jew powers to negotiate?!”
There was a distinct pause for a moment as Skitch facehoofed. “Pinkie….it doesn’t work that way.”
“What?” She blinked. “You said ‘Don’t try to out negotiate a Jew!’. That’s a kind of human, right?” She continued, following her train of logic, “So, obviously you had negotiation magic like a pegasus can fly or….”
“Pinkie, just...please stop. I don’t think that the Anti-Defamation League can hear you, but I’d rather not take that chance.” She sighed. “Remember, there’s no magic on earth. The bit about Jewish people being good with money and negotiation is a negative stereotype. I'm good at negotiating because I always had to haggle for parts when I was building computers.”
“Oh!” Pinkie blinked, comprehension suddenly spreading across her features. “I’m sorry Skitchy.”
“Don’t worry about it Pinkie.” She waved a dismissive hoof. “Cultural differences and all that jazz.” Turning back towards Flim, she nodded. “Okay Flim, show me what you have on offer.”
“Of course.” He nodded. “Brother, how about you take Miss Pie to see the crew, and I’ll discuss business with our friend here.”
- - - -
“Right this way Miss Pie.”
Pinkie beamed as they trotted past the freshly constructed sets, the smell of the fresh paint still clinging to the backstage area. It was hard for her to believe that she was walking on the same stage that had seen the hooves of so many great performers. Bluebell and Cornet, Icey Blue, Zero Milepost, Great Burns!
“What kind of show are you doing?” She asked, still grinning. “You said it was epic?”
“Well it’s a historical piece, a musical all about the Crystal Empire.”
Pinkie was largely home schooled, a consequence of growing up on a farm. But the disappearance of the Crystal Empire and the rise of Equestria’s third and youngest princess was something that everypony knew about. The party pony liked to think about what throwing a party for an alicorn would be like. Maybe...just maybe, if she kept practicing the art of laughter and making ponies smile, she’d be able to throw the most splendiferous party for an alicorn ever someday!
She was about to comment on how neat the musical idea sounded, when something caught her eye. The door to one of the dressing rooms had just swung open and a pony had stepped into the corridor. He was older looking, with a coat the color of freshly turned soil, and a short cropped mane the color of marigolds. And he was one of the giants of Vaudeville.
Marigold Button.
With a gasp, she bolted forward, bowling Mister Flam out of the way, who went tumbling away with a shocked yelp. In a moment she was staring into the face of one of her foalhood idols. Compared to most ponies she had met, Mister Button didn’t react with shock at her enthusiastic greeting, just staring back at her.
“You’re the third most aggressive stampede of cotton candy I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh! Mister Button!” She gushed, bouncing back and forth I’m such a big fan of yours! I’ve heard almost every monologue, skit and comedy presentation you’ve ever done!”
“Why thank you my dear.” He smiled, a slight sadness in his smile. ”It’s always nice to meet a fan.”
“You’re going to be in the musical?” She asked, the words almost bouncing out of her mouth from the excitement. “I mean, obviously you are, but I didn’t think you were the musical type.”
“I’m not.” He answered curtly. “But, here I am.” He shrugged. Pausing for a moment, he raised an eyebrow, giving Pinkie a more appraising look, like he was seeing her for the first time. “Wait a minute...you’re the Element of Laughter aren’t you?”
“Uh huh!” Pinkie grinned, beaming with pride.
“Sorry kid. Don’t know why I didn’t recognize you before.” His eyes roamed over Flam for a moment before flicking back to Pinkie. “My mind must be a someplace else right now. So, what brings you here?”
“Oh, I’m here to help my friend Skitchy! She’ll be doing some effects for the show!”
“And I’m just showing her around.” Flam nodded.
“Ahh, well, that’s very nice.” He nodded, before frowning. “I suppose you’d like to meet the rest of the crew then?”
“Yes please!”
“Well, this way.” He motioned towards a break room down the hallway from the dressing rooms. “I’ll introduce you to everypony.”
As Pinkie trotted down the hallway, she felt a shiver run down her spine, and a sneeze escape her snout. She blinked, realizing what just happened. Somepony was lying to somepony nearby.
- - - -
“And there you have it.” Flim said, tapping the relevant points of the contract again. “It’s a base fee for the first show you help out with, and then a lesser fee for each show after that. Nice and straight forward. You’re free to walk whenever you want.”
“That’s a very generous set of terms.” Skitch commented.
Flim shrugged. “We know that we can’t keep you chained here. You’re tied to the Element Bearers. The minute something goes wrong, they’ll run off to face the evil whatever and I’d bet bits you’ll be right behind them.”
“This is not off base.” Skitch admitted with a nod.
“Well, that’s the whole ball of wax. Take it or leave it, its up to you.”
Skitch examined the contract again. While not a legal expert by any means, she had picked up a few terms and tricks from her father. Nothing stood out though. There were some clauses about her being liable if she actively tried to break the production, but that seemed more than reasonable. Grabbing the provided fountain pen, she quickly scribbled out her name on the contract.
“Excellent.” Flim smiled. “Let’s just get you a copy of the script-”
The door swung open at that moment and Skitch almost immediately wish that it hadn’t. The current bane of her existence, Nouveau Riche, swaggered into the office with his usual arrogant expression. Skitch had a running theory that the light brown earth pony was a form of karmic balance in her life. A kind of “Congratulations brony! You get to be friends with the Mane Six, but you also have to deal with this ass.” thing.
He was flanked by Duke (not Prince, apparently) Blueblood, who was his expected stuck up looking self.
“Riche.” She snarled, “I swear to all that’s holy if you’re here to mess with me-”
“Please. “ Riche snorted, rolling his eyes. “While you might find this hard to believe, not everything in this world revolves around you.”
“Oh.” Skitch blinked. “Then why are you here?”
“I have business with mister Flim.”
The door slammed open again, Pinkie Pie leaping into the room, determination etched on her features. “Nopony move!”
“Great.” Riche sighed, rubbing at his beard. “Did you bring the whole entourage?”
“Pinkie is not my entourage.”
“Yeah!”
Sighing, Nouveau Riche turned his attention back to Flim. “So, are you ready to accept my offer or not?”
“My brother and I still need a little more time….”
“You are running out of time!” Riche snapped, taking an angry step towards the desk. “You are on your last legs and everypony knows it. At least you’ll be able to walk away with something if you take my offer.”
“Wait…” Pinkie blinked, rapidly looking from Riche to Flim to Skitch. “What offer? What’s going on?”
Flim nervously squirmed in his seat, before hanging his head. “Things aren’t going well. This production is our last chance to turn things around, otherwise we have to sell.”
“And I could use the space for another bank branch.” Riche nodded.
“WHAT?” Pinkie shouted. She had closed the gap between her and Riche in the blink of an eye, and was almost nose to nose with the industrialist. “Y-you want to turn The Palace into a bank!?”
“Yes, I do.” He shrugged. “I mean, I’m no entertainer. If I tried to run this place, we’d be right back in the same boat. Banking is what I know, and banking is what I do.”
“B-But...you can’t!” Pinkie gasped. “This place has so much history! It’s started so many careers, so many great comedians!”
“And as fascinating as that is, if that actually meant anything they wouldn’t be hanging their hopes on one last musical. Now,” He placed a hoof on her chest, pushing her back. “While I understand that the Element of Laughter would be concerned, this is business.”
Pinkie stumbled backwards, quickly rushing to Skitch’s side.
“Look, Mister Riche.” Flim frowned. “We aren’t going to sell until we see how this production shakes out.”
Skitch blinked as Pinkie latched onto her, her eyes wide. “We can help, right Skitchy? They just need a hit!”
“Well...I guess? I can do the effects the best I can.”
“That’s right. I’d suggest you say out of this.” Riche frowned. “You couldn’t keep your house, I doubt you can do anything but help this production fail.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard.”
Skitch felt the fur on the back of her neck prickle as she glared daggers at the source of that particular situation. “I lost my house because you forced me into a foreclosure situation! That is literally the reason behind it! And now you’re basically doing the same thing to his business!”
“And your point is?”
Skitch gaped at that, while Pinkie looked ready to cry almost slumping to the ground.
“You are, without question.” Skitch growled. “The biggest ass I have ever met in my life.”
“Well, if my behavior bothers you so much, then how about we make a little wager?” Riche smirked, stroking his beard again. “If their next musical is a success, I’ll not only withdraw my offer on The Palace, I’ll give you that house of ‘yours’ back and issue a public apology.”
“Let me guess, and if I lose, I drop the lawsuit?”
“And leave Equestria. Really, I don’t care where you go, but you can’t stay here.”
Skitch frowned. She was pretty sure that the latter part of that bet would be entirely unenforceable, but if it would get her house back and help save something that meant so much to Pinkie....
“Okay Riche. I look forward into shoving this into your face.”
“Better ponies than you have tried.”
He and Blueblood strode from the room, Riche pausing at the door for a moment. “Oh, and Skitch? Don’t try to worm your way out of this. Things could become difficult for ponies who still have mortgages through my bank.
“I *hate* him.” Skitch hissed as the door snapped shut again. Turning to Flim, she waved a hoof at him. “Give me that script. I want to bury this guy.”
- - - -
“Care to explain what the Tartarus that was?” Blueblood frowned, resolutely glaring at the back of Riche’s head as they trotted for the front door, Flim peeling off to check on something backstage.
“It’s part of the plan.” Riche answered with a shrug.
“Except for that bit at the end.” Blueblood continuing to glare at Riche. “I know full well that Sugarcube Corner and Carousel Boutique are held by your bank! You basically insinuated that you would go after the Elements of Harmony!” He hissed back, swooping in front of Riche with a few long strides. “You know, the ponies we all rely on should some monster from the past come roaring back to life! The leader of which, I will point out, Celestia treats almost like a surrogate daughter!”
Riche’s expression was neutral as he looked right back Blueblood. “And?”
“Did you not see what happened in Neigh Orleans?”
“I did Blueblood. I just don’t care.” He gave Blueblood a quizzical look, one eyebrow arched high. “I thought you wanted to be part of this?”
“Because I wanted a creature I viewed as a possible threat gone.” Blueblood countered. “But I will not move against the very ponies we depend on for our protection!”
“Oh, grow up.” Riche snorted. “They are six civilians. We have armies! Armies that we should be upgrading by the way, with new Dromedarian designs, rather than continuing to use spears and swords!”
“Something that Celestia is already considering. Or do you not care about that either.”
Riche grinned, lightly patting the side of Blueblood’s face. “You’re so adorable, Blueblood. You don’t even know what your situation actually is right now.”
“Do not touch me!” Blueblood hissed. “I am the Duke of Northwitch provence and I-”
“Am an obsolete societal construct.” Riche glared back. “Half of the land that your factories and other businesses are on? Owned by me. I got to where I am now without being born into the nobility, without having to deal with the chains of the noblesse oblige that you and the rest of your kind are chained with. Now, my friend” He grinned, “Are you in, or are you out?”
“Fine.” Blueblood frowned. “We’ll do this your way.”
“Very good.” Riche nodded. “I’ll see you later Blueblood.”
Blueblood watched Riche trot out of the building, his right eye twitching slightly. Once he was quite sure that Riche was gone, Blueblood headed out himself. He had a few telegrams to send.