Ding!
“Give me a sec,” the pony behind the desk said as he placed the room keys on their respective hooks, then turning back. “Welcome to the Silverhorn Hotel, I’m Room Service. How may I…” Looking up, not only did he see a couple of police officers, but dozens of tall, lanky creatures that were so colossal that they all had to hunch over to avoid hitting their heads on the ceiling. “What in the--”
“Evening, sir,” the unicorn officer nodded. “On behalf of the Manehattan Police Department, we require your aid in sheltering some creatures that have been granted asylum. They’re completely lost and tired. Would it be possible to rent out any rooms to shelter twenty of them?”
Room Service blinked, craning his new upward at the creatures that towered over him before looking back to the officers. “Uh… asylum? Why? What’s going on?”
“A theater suddenly appeared on Fifth Street with them in it,” the pegasus officer said. “They have no clue where they are, what’s going on--”
“Aww, he’s adorable,” one of the female creatures interrupt, with some of the others agreeing with her statement.
“--and they apparently think everypony that they run into is cute,” the pegasus finished. “Before you ask; no, they’re not dangerous. Yes, the city has agreed to pay for their rooms in full. And yes, we’ve already sent a message to the Princesses. So in the meantime, could you spare some rooms for them?”
Room Service turned back to the system of keys, humming in thought and counting them up. “Well… as of now, we’ve got nineteen to spare. One of them will have to share a room--”
“We will,” Harry quickly volunteered, taking hold of his wife’s hand.
“Okay then.” The hotel clerk took the remaining keys off of the board and passed them amongst the humans. With that done, he got up from his desk and peeked through a door. “Bell, get over here! We’ve got company!”
A moment later, a red unicorn stallion in a uniform emerged from the door. “Yes, sir? What do you…” His neck craned upwards. “...need? Uh, what are those?”
“They’ve just booked out of the rest of the hotel,” the clerk said, ignoring his question. “I want you to make sure that you show them all to their respective rooms.”
The unicorn showed signs of nervousness. “Uh… s-show them?”
“That is your job.” The hotel clerk hoofed over all of the remaining room keys. “Now get to it.”
With a gulp, Bell nodded and told the group to follow him. Hallway to hallway and floor to floor, the bellhop led them each to their rooms, anxiously trying to keep an eye on the strange creatures. Sometimes he would receive a compliment from them, especially from the females who kept telling him how ‘adorable’ he looked in his uniform.
Soon the group of twenty thinned out, leaving him with one more room to show the couple.
“Here it is,” he said, unlocking the door marked 418.
Bess stepped inside while Harry paused for a moment, reaching into his pocket. “Look, we really appreciate all the trouble you’ve had to put up with. I guess it wouldn’t be rude to leave you some kind of tip?”
The unicorn bellhop smiled. “Oh, none at all.”
“Here you go.” Houdini handed a bill over to him. The stallion, however, just blankly stared at it. “Aren’t you going to take it?”
“You’re giving me a piece of green paper?”
“Paper? No, this isn’t just paper. This is a fifty dollar bill.” Harry paused. “Hold on, you don’t accept American currency, do you?”
The bellhop shook his head. “Sir, I’ve never seen that before, and frankly I don’t know if I can accept it as a tip. I mean, what am I to do with a piece of paper anyway?”
“What do you use as money then?” Harry asked as he put the bill back into his wallet.
The stallion reached into his uniform pocket and produced a gold coin. “We accept these,” he said. “They’re called bits here. Are you saying that you don’t have any?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“How long did you say you guys were staying?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Sighing, the stallion turned back to the elevator. “I’ll go talk to my boss about that. If I were you, I’d figure out how to earn some bits.”
Harry closed the door behind him and finally took a good look at their room. Other than the low ceiling, the room housed two beds. However, judging by his wife’s feet hanging off the edge, they were a little too small.
“Well, wherever we are in this ‘Equestria’, we’re broke.”
His wife sat up. “What?!”
Harry took out his wallet and threw it on the nightstand. “Apparently, all the cash we have with us is completely worthless here. Of course, this means that we can’t buy anything here like clothes or food.” He slouched down, facing Bess. “What luck we have, huh? Bess, what are we going to do now?”
“What do you mean ‘what are we going to do?’” his wife questioned. “Maybe we should do what we’ve always done and performed some of your escapes. They will give us money.”
Harry laughed. “That would work if these folks couldn’t lift pencils with their minds. I don’t know how to mystify someone who lives in a world with real, practical magic. How do you entertain crowds when they can do something like that and consider it mundane?”
“Hon, are you even listening to yourself? For crying out loud, you’re the Great Harry Houdini! The man who could escape anything, from handcuffs and coffins to jumping off bridges in chains and walking through solid brick walls! Besides, America or not, I think you’ll manage to do something fantastic in this place.”
“What makes you say that?”
Bess leaned in with a smile. “Why would a pony cop carry around a pair of handcuffs?”
Before Harry could answer, there was a knock at their door. He got up (hitting his head on the ceiling in the process) and crouched over to the door.
He found a small group of ponies, about five of them, holding notepads and pencils, along with the flash of a camera.
“Uh…” one of them said before clearing her throat. “H-hey there! We’re with the Manehattan Times, a local newspaper. We heard about a theater that just appeared, and we were hoping to get an interview from you guys. I know it’s late and all, but would you mind answering a few of our questions?”
Harry paused, glancing over his shoulder to his wife, his eyebrows raised. Bess could immediately tell from the look on his face that he had an idea.
“No problem at all!” He turned back to the reporters. “My name is Harry Houdini, and before we get to your questions, I have one that I want to ask first.”
“What’s that?” one of the reporters inquired.
“Do any of you know where the nearest prison is?”