"Your Majeshty, with all due reshpect, I musht protesht thish."
Celestia remained implacable, looking on as both her faithful student and the Captain of the Royal Guard stood before her. The latter's speech was somewhat hindered by a large bag of ice tied to the side of his jaw, which was comically swollen.
"I have to agree with the Captain, Princess. If our goal was to balance Shawn's recklessness, there were probably better ponies for the job." Her protégé's voice sounded strained as she spoke around trembling lips and the occasional escaped giggle. Twilight glanced toward the captain once more, then apparently felt a sudden need to cough into her hoof when he narrowed his eyes at her.
Having much more practice than her student, Celestia was having no problems suppressing her own smile as she tilted her head at the two, "If that were our goal, you would be right."
"Wha-... Princess? I don't understand..." Twilight admitted, trading amusement for confusion.
"As much as it pains me to admit it, Shawn's way of doing things has been far more effective than any of our own efforts at acquiring the answers we need, has it not?"
The two young ponies before her - young from her point of view, anyway - bowed their heads, unable to deny the truth but unwilling to admit it out loud. That unwillingness was a failing that was constant in every thinking creature she'd ever come across, and one that even she had fallen prey to, on occasion.
"In that light, attempting to force him to adjust his methods to be more like our own seems... counterproductive, doesn't it?"
"Then why shend anypony with him at all?" The Captain challenged.
Celestia allowed herself a small smile. Contrary to popular belief, Aegis's straightforward manner and willingness to question her decisions were the reason for his long tenure as Captain, not his talents at intimidation.
"Effective as he may be, Shawn remains a stranger in a strange land. And with no magical, artificial, or natural defenses to aid him, he is vulnerable. Pinkie Pie is an Element holder - a particularly slippery and tenacious one, if Luna's reports are to be believed - and already deeply familiar with Cauldron. My hope is that she will keep him safe, while allowing him to work relatively unimpeded."
Captain Aegis raised an eyebrow at his princess, but remained silent and nodded. Twilight, on the other hand, looked even more worried than when she'd first come in, practically demanding to be allowed to join the human's expedition.
Both were kind enough to not mention the fact that Pinkie's first act as Shawn's guardian had been to throw the human off a bridge.
"Our lack of involvement in their escape will need to be credible, however." Celestia continued, "Which means we'll need to dispatch a pursuit. I believe putting a team comprised of the Captain of the Royal Guard, several hoof-picked lieutenants, and some of the Elements of Harmony should placate the diamond dog diplomats calling for a ponyhunt... or, manhunt, as it were."
Twilight visibly perked up at this, while Aegis grinned lopsidedly.
"How hard should I be trying to actually catch thoshe two, your Majeshty?"
"Stay as close as you can, but please do refrain from actually capturing them until they either find what they're looking for or the three day time limit expires."
At this point, Celestia noted that her student was staying unexpectedly silent through all this, "Is something the matter, Twilight? Please, do not worry too much for their safety. I have ensured that they will have appropriate support if things get too out of hoof."
The lavender mare was startled out of whatever thoughts plagued her, and so allowed herself a moment to regain her composure before speaking.
"Honestly, princess... knowing Pinkie - and Shawn, for that matter - I'm more worried for the citizens of Cauldron."
The sun-goddess paused and mulled that over for a moment, before mentally adding a few zeros to the 'reparations' budget she and her sister had worked out for the investigation. It never hurt to be safe, after all.
---------------------------------------------
Shawn, once again, found himself pondering the series of life-choices that had led him to this unlikely situation.
Primarily, what unfortunate combination of decisions could possibly end in a six hour boat-ride with a surly seafaring unicorn and a pink, magical pony disguised as a pegasus?
That's after jumping off a bridge. Can't forget that. Not for the first time, Shawn truly regretted his flawless memory.
A large, white frown suddenly took up much of his vision, though Shawn was only disoriented for a moment before seeing it for what it was: an upside-down smile.
Not in the metaphorical sense. Once she'd gotten used to her new wings, Pinkie Pie had taken to flying upside down most of the time. Apparently, it made her feel funny, which, by her logic, meant it actually was funny. And, to be fair, the trick had gotten a chuckle out of him... the first dozen times or so.
"Oh, come on! I said I was sorry! Quit being such a Mopey McGrumpy-Pants." The newly-minted pegasus righted herself and landed on the railing Shawn had been leaning on, then forced him to take a step back via a poke to his nose, "We're embarking on a heroic adventure to save all of Equestria from... something! You can't let a thousand-hoof-drop get you down!"
"First of all, I'll have you know that my pants are perfectly happy and well-adjusted. It was my stomach and, subsequently, my underwear that were grumpy." Shawn leaned back on the wooden, house-like structure that took up much of the space on the deck of the ship, "Also, since when do you use words like 'embark' in a sentence?"
"Since when do you use words like 'subsequently'?" she shot back, still grinning.
"Fair point."
"Will ye two shut yer traps!?" the rough, disgruntled voice came from above, and was accompanied by the appearance of an old, scarred unicorn mare's face over the lip of the roof where the helm was. Her seaweed-green mane dangled over the side in a series of dreadlocks, accenting her salt-stained, deep-blue coat.
"I haven't set any traps yet!" Pinkie shouted indignantly, "I'm waiting 'till we get to Cauldron to start pranking him!"
Oh... good to know. Shawn made a mental note to keep an eye out. And perhaps plan a preemptive strike.
Their captain, or "lady-cappy" as he'd taken to calling her, stared at the other mare for a minute before growling and going back to the helm. She'd been adamant about not wanting to know anything about them or their journey.
In fact, her response to the start of Pinkie Pie's enigmatic self-introduction - post dramatic entrance - had been to wince and interrupt.
"No names!" she'd shouted in her strange dialect, "No questions. No back-stories. And, most importantly, no talkin'! I don' care why ye had ta fly down here, or why we're leavin' in such a hurry, or why one o' you's a talkin' monkey. I'm only here ta take the two o' ye to Cauldron fer a load o' bits and forget ye ever existed. The less I know, the easier that be."
Relations between lady-cappy and the pair of them had taken a dramatic down-turn when Pinkie Pie's response had been to pause, seemingly give serious thought to what she'd just heard, then chirp, "Well, I'm Pin- Surprise! Nice to meet you, Rough Seas!"
"Whu-...!? That's written on me boat 'cause that's it's name, not mine! And I said: No names!"
"Well, isn't it silly to name your boat if you don't like names? Oh... and I can't call you 'Captain'. I already know a Captain and that's what I have to call him, so I guess I have to call you Rough Seas since you won't tell me your real name." All of this had been delivered with Pinkie's signature smile.
Shawn was pretty sure that lady-cappy had tried to complain to him about his partner, but he'd been far too busy being violently sick over the edge of the pier to hear any of it. It spoke to her state of mind that she'd been drinking hard cider almost non-stop since then.
"Hellooo! Are you in there?"
A hoof tapping at the top of his head brought Shawn back to the present. Pinkie was flying upside down again, her face on a level with his.
"Yeah, sorry." Shawn brought a fingernail to his mouth and chewed absent-mindedly, "We've got an entire city to search, and three days to do it."
Pinkie tilted her head at him, that infectious smile seemingly a permanent feature, "Not sure where to start?"
Shawn snorted, then grinned, "Trying to figure out what to do for those other two days after we catch The Shadow. Say, you know any seedy bars on the docks where we can grab some lunch?"
After staring at him for a moment, his winged partner burst into laughter, rolling several times in mid-air before landing back on the railing, "Yup-a-roonie! Oooooohhh, this is going to be so much fun!" she squealed and turned to face the shore, "Look out Cauldron, 'cause here we come! Land hooooo!"
"Uhhh... P-... Surprise... we're on a river. There's land on both sides. And we still have another three hours to go before we actually get there..."
Shawn's own smile turned wry when Pinkie simply turned and shouted the same thing from the opposite side of the ship, casually dodging a thrown cider bottle on the way.
"Hey!" she shot back over to him in an excited blur, "Wanna play tic-tac-toe with me while we wait?"
"Eh... why not. Nothing like a few pointless draws to get you in the mood for a big victory."
-----------------------------------------
"How..."
It was an appropriate question. One that Shawn wanted... no... needed answered.
"How what?" Pinkie asked from her position facing the wall of the boat's cabin, eyeing her myriad of victories engraved on its wooden surface.
"How did I lose all 79 games!? At least a few of those should've been draws! This doesn't seem physically possible!"
"That's funny," she giggled, "that's exactly what Twilight said when I played her."
The boat had been chugging along for the past several hours, occasionally drifting closer to one far-away shore or the other of the massive river they now traveled on. Shawn didn't really mind the cider-fueled swerving. The water seemed to be uniformly deep in this portion of the Ley Line and the rest of the boats on it were giving them plenty of space. The Rough Sea's large paddle, powered by her lady-cappy's magic, continued to rotate, driving them closer and closer to the docks of the city straddling the point where the river split in two.
"A'right ye land-lubbing fillies. We're comin' up on the docks." lady-cappy called down from her perch at the helm, tossing yet another empty bottle of cider overboard and stumbling slightly.
Pinkie tilted her head up at the sea-mare, "Aren't you supposed to call out 'land-ho'?"
"Oh!" lady-cappy brought both hooves to her mouth, letting her magic steer them next to the pier as she gasped, "How silly o' me! How could I forget?" lines of rope shot out from the hold, securing the ship as she cleared her throat and took a deep breath.
Oh, crap...
"GERROFF ME BOAT!"
Shawn braced himself, as lady-cappy's magically assisted shout lifted them off the deck and tossed them unceremoniously at the pier.
"Wheeeeeeeee!" Pinkie spun past him like a punted football, then somehow stopped her momentum in mid-air long enough to catch him and lower safely him to the wooden planks.
Upon landing, Shawn saw fit to voice his opinion on her course of action as eloquently as possible, "Jesus! You need a hug, lady!" He also saw fit to grab Pinkie's tail before the ex-earth pony took his suggestion literally.
"We should probably go before she sees our games." Shawn whispered to her, then sighed in relief when she nodded and floated along - still upside down - as he made his way toward the docks. It was only a few minutes later that they started hearing the vague echoes of a sea-mare's verbal wrath shouted to the afternoon sky.
"Gee, Shawn, whaddaya wanna do tonight?" Pinkie chirped.
"The same thing we do every night, Pinkie..." Shawn began, "try to-"
"Hey!" she interrupted, "My name is Surprise, now. And I don't think you've been around long enough for us to have a 'thing we do every night'!"
"Please don't say it like that. And... no... see, I was going to make a really clever refe-"
"Now's not the time to be making jokes, Shawn! The fate of Equestria hangs in the balance!"
Shawn stared at her.
Pinkie stared back, forelegs crossed and intently serious in her demeanor. Still upside down.
With a sigh, Shawn mumbled, "Just take me to the seediest bar within walking distance. We need to make some smuggling contacts, and if there's one thing Hollywood's taught me is that seedy bars are where the smugglers go to hang out."
"Okie-dokie-lokie! You're the brains of this outfit, boss!" the mare smiled and flew off at a brisk pace, forcing Shawn to jog to keep up.
The docks of Cauldron were massive, its boardwalks following the rivers for quite a ways in every direction. Bridges spanned across the waters every so often, the impressive wooden constructs tall enough to allow even the largest ships full access. In very rare cases, the bridges were constructed of what appeared to be clouds, with booths manned by unicorns standing in front. Creatures of all kinds roamed the streets, from fantastical beings like minotaurs and gryphons, to more mundane denizens like zebras and donkeys. There were even some critters that he didn't have a name for; in particular, some sort of blue baboon-thing with a hand at the end of its tail. What's more, not a one of them batted an eye at Shawn's presence.
Pinkie Pie slowed down, realizing that Shawn couldn't keep up the quick pace for more than a few minutes before having to stop to sit down. Eventually, however, they came to a part of the docks that was much less well-maintained, occupied by a particularly run-down wooden bar. The sign proclaimed it 'Salty's Pub', though the word 'Pub' had been crossed out and 'Arsehole' written over it in red paint.
"Classy..."
"Hasn't changed one bit..." Pinkie sighed wistfully in response to Shawn's muttered comment.
He eyed her, "Do we have to worry about you getting recognized in there?"
"Maybe." she shrugged, "Probably not, though. I always had my pirate outfit on whenever I came in here. And everypony knew me as a pink earth pony, not a white pegasus."
"Well... just to be safe, try to stay away from talking about parties. Is there anything else we can claim to be smuggling?"
After a moment's thought, Pinkie raised a hoof in excitement, "Ooooo, the Griffins have a permanent ban on alcohol in their country! We could smuggle that!"
Man, Shawn thought, the more I hear about the other countries, the more glad I am I ended up in ponyland-... wait...
"Pretend to smuggle, Pi- Surprise."
"Right." she chirped in reply, "That's what I meant."
Wings aflutter, Pinkie floated through the swinging double-doors of the entrance, giving Shawn no choice but to follow.
The place was dark, with the few windows there were covered in too many layers of dust and grime to let in any actual sunlight. Shawn paused, giving his eyes a moment to adjust, then looked around. He'd seen plenty of Old West flicks, enough to know to expect the classic response of every head in the bar turning to gaze at the strange newcomer in silence.
Of course, reality was, once again, intent on disappointing him. Every creature in the bar, and they were as varied and numerous here as they had been out in the streets (if a bit more ragged), had its mind on its own business. Whether that business was quiet discussion, a game of dice, or a drink depended on the individual. A few spared a glance his way, but that's all it ever was... a glance. At least the place had chairs aplenty, mostly used by the bi-pedal customers.
With a shrug, Shawn paced along the creaky wooden floors, dodging the occasional pony or griffin in a waitress's outfit. Pinkie had made her way over to the bar, and waited for him on one of the stools-...
"Surprise," Shawn narrowed his eyes at Pinkie, "I thought you said you'd never heard of chairs before. Or stools."
She smiled up at him from her seat, "I never said that, silly. I just asked you what they were. Besides, I like my name for them better."
"But... you already knew what they were..."
"So? That doesn't mean I can't ask." The mare tilted her head innocently at him.
It hadn't precisely been a lie, Shawn had to admit. And, considering the nature of the double-life she'd been leading for a while, she'd probably gotten really good at "not-lying" in order to both keep the secret and preserve her conscience.
"Well... at least that explains how you came up with that stool so fast." Shawn grumbled, then shook his head, "Okay then. Who do we talk to first?"
"Hmmm..." she hummed, "Well, the bartender was always really well-connected, but-"
"Awesome. Just let me do all the talking."
"But-"
"Nope," Shawn preempted her, "You look different, but your voice is still the same. I don't want to take the chance that he'll recognize you. Just point the way and, whatever you do, don't say anything."
Hesitating, she shrugged then made a zipping gesture over her mouth and pointed with a hoof...
Whoa.
... directly at the largest minotaur he'd seen yet. If he'd thought Blind Rage was big, this hulking monstrosity standing behind the bar looked fearsome enough to be that hulking monstrosity's mean, older brother. This particular mintaur was a soft brown, with a slimmer face accented by a crooked nose pierced by a surprisingly dainty gold ring. A brilliantly pink apron covering his torso completed the visual dichotomy.
Shawn might have been tempted to laugh, but he was well aware that no amount of healing magic could reconstitute him from a thin layer of paste on a dirty bar floor.
Gathering his courage, Shawn paced over and confidently sat in front of where the monster stood, waiting for the beast to acknowledge him with a raised eyebrow before speaking in his best western outlaw impression.
"Hey there, big guy. I'll take a glass o' yer hardest whiskey."
The minotaur's second eyebrow joined its twin, but eventually he crouched and rooted around for a moment before standing and slamming a bottle of murky, amber fluid on the countertop with a snort.
"Thank ya kindly, sir." Out of the corner of his eye, Shawn could see Pinkie trying to wave at him, but he ignored her for the time being. First impressions were extremely important in these kinds of exchanges, so he couldn't afford any distractions.
Making sure to keep eye contact with the bartender the whole time he did it, Shawn unstoppered the bottle and took a nice, big mouthful... some of which slowly dribbled out of the corner of his mouth as the rest of the bitter hell-fire made its slow, painful way down his throat. Heroically, he managed to keep from choking, though his face had turned a very distinct shade of red.
Shawn cleared his throat, twice for good measure, and continued in a raspy wheeze, "Goes down smooth. Ah heard ya were the one t'come to for... information on getting certain goods to certain places, without no one knowin' 'bout it... uhhh..."
The minotaur only snorted again at Shawn's subtle prompt for a name, so he decided to take a more obvious tact.
"Right. Name's Shawn Spencer," he stuck out his bandaged hand, then hurriedly switched to his uninjured one, "Professional outlaw and smuggler, but don't tell no one that." Shawn then pointed over to Pinkie, who smiled and hid her hooves behind her back, "That there is my business pardner, Jenkins "Surprise" Periwinkle. Ponies call'er Surprise for short, but, personally, I like callin'er Jenkins. Rolls right off the tongue... Jenkins. Now, where I come from, when someone innerduces theirselves, it's common courtesy ta reciprocate."
After staring at his hand for a minute, the minotaur sighed loudly and finally spoke in a gruff, but surprisingly high pitched tone, "It's Soft Speech. Miss Soft Speech. You gonna finish your drink or are you gonna keep blatherin' like an idiot and make Soft Speech hurt you?"
It's a curious feeling, that sudden rush as every ounce of blood drains from one's face. It often leaves one lightheaded, breathless, and at a loss for words. In the worst case scenarios, a person could experience tunnel-vision or even pass out from this natural phenomenon. Fortunately for Shawn, he was only experiencing the first three symptoms as he slowly turned around on his stool, bottle of booze in hand. Absent-mindedly, he took another sip, which nearly resulted in him suffering the latter two.
Pinkie shook her head at him and very clearly mouthed, 'Smoooooooth.'
"Jenkins," he choked out, subconsciously dropping the accent "Why don't you take it from here?"
"Okie-dokie-lokie!" she chirped and took his spot, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially with Miss Speech.
Sighing, Shawn claimed a seat at a nearby table and tried to figure out at which point during this adventure his luck had turned so sour. He consoled himself with the respectful looks some of the nearby patrons gave him after noticing his choice of beverage, then realized that he was now stuck drinking it.
Eventually, Pinkie trotted over happily, Soft Speech in tow, and sat next to him. The female minotaur pulled out a chair across from the two of them and also made herself comfortable. There was a brief, yet horrendously awkward moment of silence as she considered him.
"You're lucky your business partner's not an idiot." Soft Speech stated plainly, though she sounded more bemused than angry, "Look, Soft Speech is usually pretty in touch with all this stuff, but the last few months..." She paused to consider something before starting again, "A while back, some jackass going around insisting everyone call'im 'The Shadow' showed up. Soft Speech didn't think anything of it, at first. Monsters and critters with delusions of power show up from every corner of the world and they always turn out to be more bark than bite. Sometimes, literally."
Soft Speech smiled at her own joke, then motioned at Shawn's bottle. He handed it over, glad to be rid of the foul stuff.
"This one, though..." she continued as she took a long draft of hell-fire, "This one actually pulled it off. Somehow, he got every smuggling ring under his claw... or hoof... or whatever he's got. And the rest of us who didn't want to play nice either got cut out or got disappeared."
"Any idea on how to get a hold of one of his smugglers?" Shawn asked.
The minotaur stared at him again before shaking her head, "You got more balls than brains, little lamb." She looked him up and down for a moment, smiling, "Well, at least you can hold your liquor... and you're kinda cute. Only reasons Soft Speech didn't crush your skull like an overripe tomato."
Suppressing violent shudders, Shawn motioned for the bottle and choked down another mouthful of the stuff, then spoke, "Thanks... I think. Look, we came a long way with a lot of good product. The Shadow's gotta be able to spare a ship or two for a big enough cut of the profits. How would I go about getting in touch with him?"
She tapped her fingers on the edge of the table, rattling loose screws against old wood, "Normally, Soft Speech wouldn't even bother with the likes of you. But Surprise reminds Soft Speech of a dear friend she used to have in the good 'ol days of civilized skulduggery. So, tell you what..." a massive hand pointed discreet-... ish-ly at a gaggle of rowdy griffins in some sort of military uniform, "You're a fast talker. Get'em outta here without busting up the place and Soft Speech will point you in the right direction."
Shawn eyed her suspiciously, "Can't you kick'em out yourself? The biggest one's a third your size!" he whispered.
"Soft Speech said without busting up the place. They're too drunk to know to back down, and there're too many to handle without breakin' a lot of stuff. Soft Speech is in debt as it is."
Sighing, Shawn nodded, "Fine. But once they're gone, you tell us everything you know, deal?"
"Deal." she nodded, then smiled again, "Come talk to Soft Speech again when you're done, little lamb."
I'm not sure I'm comfortable with her tone when she calls me that. He allowed himself the leisure of a small shudder, vowing to find the nearest shower to cry in the moment the opportunity presented itself.
Miss Speech stood - Shawn could've sworn he heard the chair sigh in relief - and ambled back over to her bar.
"So..." he looked over at Pinkie, "Any bright ideas?"
"We could sing them a song."
Shawn buried his face in his hands, "Any bright ideas that don't involve getting clawed to death?"
"Awwww... but I like singing. Oh! And I still have to sing a random song out of nowhere from when we first met!"
"... I'm sorry, what?"
She waved a hoof at a darkened corner of the bar, which was occupied by a diamond dog sitting listlessly in front of a crumpling piano. She tossed him a gold bit and the ragged dog snapped out of his drunken apathy just long enough to catch it and start up a snappy tune, which Shawn recognized as strangely similar to The Major-General's Song, if somewhat slower.
Before Shawn could fully process what was happening, Pinkie alternately bounced and floated over to the target group of griffins and began... singing...
"I~ am the very model of a mare who loves to sing and dance,
My every step a prance, if you will all just give me any chance,
Now take your claws and clap along and let the rhythmic beat enhance,
Every single surprise in your life that you have looked askance;"
The griffins stood, gaping soundlessly at the peppy pegasus suddenly spinning over their table.
"Get off your butts and make some noise and break out of your little trance,
'Cause even I can tell that you all want to from just one short glance,
Let all your troubles fade away and simply smile along with me,
Y'know a smile is something anypony's always glad to see~!"
Reaching down, she bodily grabbed a magnificently mustachioed griffin, who barely put up any resistance when she started twirling with him as she sang. Amazingly enough, his friends only chortled at his predicament. Some of them even started to tap their claws to the beat.
"It's much more fun to play when you've got someone who can share with you,
Every moment, second, minute of a catchy song, it's true!
In short, with every step I take, if you will all give me a chance,
I'll show you how much fun it is to laugh, and play, and sing, and da~nce!"
Recognizing that it was far too late to do anything but roll with it, Shawn started clapping along, clearing tables and chairs out of the way as more and more of the griffins stood up to get their turn at a dance with the crazy mare. Some of the other patrons left, annoyed by all the noise, but even more bobbed their heads or wore quiet smiles as they sipped at their drinks.
"I know that each of you would rather spend this lovely, sunny day,
Outside a musty bar where every snack just tastes like year-old hay,
So, come on up to get your twirl with me then take your place in line,
We'll conga 'till we fall exhausted to the grassy ground, supine!"
Each griffin stepped up to dance with the mare as the music continued to play, some stumbling more than others.
"Sometimes you have take a real deep breath and simply take the leap,
And go with what feels right instead of living in a waking sleep.
So, once again, line-up and move your claws, and beaks, and hips along.
And join me in this awesome, random, catchy out-of-nowhere song!"
Giggling like mad, Pinkie lined up each of her dance partners as she finished with them, flying excited circles above the completed line of waltzing griffins.
"Then all you griffins can go home and proudly tell your every friend,
That to the very heights of silly happiness you did ascend,
In short, with every step I take, if you will all give me a chance,
I'll show you how much fun it is to laugh, and play, and sing, a~nd da~nce!"
Another tossed bit, and the music shifted to a catchy conga, which the military griffins happily swayed and stepped to as they made their drunken way out of the bar and down the street.
Pinkie Pie floated, upside down once again, over to Shawn and happily waved her new feathered friends off.
Shawn stared after them, still unsure of what to think of the whole thing. Eventually, however, he did come to a definitive conclusion as the piano quieted and the clientele returned to their previous dreariness.
"Surprise..."
"Yeah, Shawn?" she smiled, still waving at the empty door.
"I wanna be just like you when I grow up."
The orientationally challenged pegasus turned and looked him up and down, "Well... you're a little old, but I guess it's never too late to start training somepony on the principles of partying."
Grinning ear to ear, Shawn was about to reply when a massive, brown-furred hand came down heavily on his shoulder.
"It's been a long time since Soft Speech has seen something like that," the minotaur had ambled over from her place behind the bar, wearing her own wide smile, "It's good to have it back. The city needs it." She gave Pinkie a knowing wink, then pulled Shawn around toward an inconspicuous, old door at the back of the bar, "Come with Soft Speech. There are too many eyes and ears here for secrets."
Pinkie followed along, attempting to lecture him on what she insisted on calling the "Science of Smile-Sharing".
"We're talking about normal secrets, right?" Shawn questioned as he was dragged off, "Not... you know... 'really wish I'd brought a whistle', 'Lifetime network special documentary' secrets... right?"
The door creaked ominously as it shut itself behind the trio.
-----------------------------------
"Oh, man." Shawn moaned, "Oh god! This is incredible!"
Various slurping noises ensued, as Shawn continued making a mess out of the little back-room in the throes of pleasure.
"I-I've..." He paused his efforts to wipe a little tear from his eye, "I've missed this... so much..."
"It's really that good? Soft Speech hasn't done this for anyone yet..."
"No, no... this is amazing! I... I think I love you..."
"Ick!" Pinkie exclaimed from her spot in the corner, "How can you stand that!? And why am I watching!?"
Shawn put down the deliciously pan-seared Tilapia fillet, wiping grease off his chin with the corner of the table-cloth.
"Look, I know you guys are all vegetarian, and I respect that... I do... but this ain't Ponyville and I ain't no stinkin' pony!" he exclaimed, then returned to savaging his fish dinner.
Pinkie sighed from her corner and poked half-heartedly at her own salad, "What I wouldn't give for a triple-chocolate cupcake right now."
"Sorry." Soft Speech replied from her own seat on the floor, the room too small to accommodate a chair sturdy enough to support her, "Flour's expensive this far from the Equestrian farmlands." She supported her head on her hands, elbows on fur-covered knees, as she watched Shawn devour his food, "You really like it?"
This time not bothering to try to vocalize past the last mouthful of fish, Shawn simply nodded vigorously. With a hearty burp and a happy sigh, he leaned back, careful not to tip over the small stool he sat on, "That was magnificent. What're you doing stuck serving drinks out of a shitty bar? You should have your own restaurant."
The massive minotaur shrugged, reaching up to scratch the back of her neck with an uncharacteristically demure smile, "It's been Soft Speech's dream to open a fine-dining restaurant on the northern boardwalk," she paused at Shawn's questioning glance and clarified, "It's where all the best eateries in the city are. The north shore on the Griffonian Empire's side of the rivers is where the wealthy build their mansions. The western Equestrian shore is where most of the businesses are. And the eastern UTL's side... this side... is basically storage and slums. It's-"
"Let me guess, it's also where most of the smuggling rings hang out." Shawn interrupted.
Soft Speech nodded, pulling an old, stained map from one of the many shelves that decorated the walls, "The city guard stay mostly off this side and no one really patrols the rivers themselves, so getting stuff from shore to shore is pretty easy. From there, it's just a matter of paying off some guards to look the other way while you sneak out of the city on whatever shore you want." Taking a quill, she dipped it in a vial of ink and drew several circles on the eastern shore, "This is where most of the well-known exporters had... erm... 'offices' back in the day. Lot of 'em aren't really around no more, though. Your best bet," she pointed at a pier somewhat north of their location, back the way they came, "is probably a certain unicorn mare. Exporters still go to her whenever the job's too hard or too secret for anyone else. Now, nobody actually knows her name,"
Oh, no...
"but her ship's easy to spot. It's called the 'Rough Seas'."
"Of course it is..." he mumbled.
-------------------------------------------
After Shawn and Pinkie paid for their food and said their goodbyes to their new friend, - and Shawn got a hug that lasted an uncomfortably long time - they made their way back up the boardwalk. Together, they tried to plan on how to win over the ornery sea-mare they'd so irritated before.
"We probably could've left on better terms with lady-cappy." Shawn mused aloud as they walked.
"Yeah..." Pinkie agreed, orbiting around him in mid-air with a hoof to her chin, "Hey! We could sing her a song!"
Though he didn't dismiss the possibility off-hand this time, Shawn wasn't exactly confident the tactic would work on someone that pragmatic. At least she probably wouldn't be sober.
"We could offer her lots of money." he suggested, "She seemed pretty motivated to put up with us when there was a big payout at the end of the trip. I'm sure a certain royal pony wouldn't mind shelling out a few more bits for the cause."
"Or we could save her from having her boat robbed by a corrupt city official backed up by a bunch of bribed guards." Pinkie chirped.
"Yeah," he sighed and stared up at the sky, thinking, "but what are the chances of that happening right when we need it."
"Pretty good, I guess." Pinkie took Shawn's head between her front hooves and directed his sight at a peculiar scene.
A rather prim-looking unicorn stallion in the top half of a snappy business suit stood across from the defiant sea-mare, who was preventing his entry into her ship. Four diamond dogs in armor and holding spears stood behind him, puffed up and looking as menacing as seven-foot-tall, musclebound gorilla-dogs with weapons could. That is to say, very.
"Huh... that's convenient."
"Plot devices," Pinkie shrugged, "What're you gonna do?" With a flap of her wings and a deep breath, Pinkie started forward, the onset of the first tunes already leaving her mouth.
Shawn was ready this time, though, and was quick to yank her back by her tail, "Not gonna work this time."
"But," he continued as she pouted at him, "I know what probably will."
With that, he marched forward, Pinkie bobbing along behind him to a music only she could hear. Shawn had let her handle the unreasonable drunks, but greedy, self-important authority-figures were his forte, and he knew just how to handle a belligerent bureaucrat.
"Gentlefellows!" he called as he got close, startling the rearmost diamond dogs as he waltzed past them to their angry unicorn leader, "What seems to be the problem here?"
Said unicorn yelped and turned, indignant at the unwarranted interruption of his business. For her part, the sea-mare narrowed her eyes at Shawn in recognition, but wisely chose to remain quiet.
"What!? Who the hay are you supposed to be?" the stallion sputtered.
"I'm gonna tell you who I am," Shawn started, confidently stepping close to the smartly-dressed pony, "but I don't want you to freak out, because it's so cool."
"Uhhh-..."
"My name is Shawn Spencer. And I, my good sir, am a professional psychic."