Return to Equestria: The Rise of Roam

by Daniel-Gleebits


Blackmail is Okay When You Don't Like Them

Return to Equestria: The Rise of Roam

Sonata Dusk


“Um... Sunset?”
“Yes?” Sunset sighed.
“Is this legal?”
Sonata watched Sunset closely as she seemed to deliberate the point. At one point she opened her mouth as though about to say something, but then yawned and went back to simply watching the situation unfold in front of them. Sonata got the impression that she was not particularly surprised by what was happening.
“Loyal Stride?” Sonata asked, turning to her other side.
Loyal Stride said nothing at all, but he too looked as though what was happening did not in the least bit surprise him.
Feeling the silence bearing down on her, Sonata retreated into silence herself. She after all did not much feel like she deserved too much attention right now.
“Script, just give it up,” Sunset called irritably to him. “I know these guys. If anypony in the world has an infallible anti-theft spell, it’s them. Most thieves know their way around anti-theft.”
Script blasted the door one more time out of sheer frustration, and then took a deep breath. Straightening up, he cantered towards them as though nothing untoward had occurred, and put on a strained smile.
“Time well spent I think,” he said briskly, glancing back at the house. The rippling effect of the house-wide shield was still sending ripples of rainbow colours and morning dusk sheen across the house’s surface, but after a few seconds it straightened out and turned transparent again.
“It was an utter waste of time, and as Sonata pointed out, very illegal,” Sunset snarled.
“Look, I know they have a machine that can take us to the border faster and safer than any other means,” Script snapped. “We need it. They have it. It’s not like we were going to keep it.”
“You propose taking it back afterwards?” Loyal Stride asked sardonically. “When we have no guarantee that we ourselves will be returning?”
Sonata gulped, feeling the trembling in her nerves again.
“Okay, maybe we wouldn’t return it,” Script admitted in a voice that suggested he thought they were being all very unreasonable. “But I rather think that what we’re doing is important. We need to go, and quickly, especially if the legion is on the move.”
“The Fifteenth won’t move for at least three weeks. Longer if they keep the proper discipline,” Loyal Stride said. “It takes time to alter from an occupation force to an invading army, and a great deal of planning too.” A look of concern came suddenly over his face, as though something unpleasant had just occurred to him. “Unless Trotus moves without informing the homeland.”
“Which does sound more like the dear General we all fear and respect,” Script said, blasting a section of the third storey.
“Stop it,” Loyal Stride snapped, breaking from his pensive attitude. “Let’s just find these associates of yours and ask them for help.”
Loyal Stride at first didn’t seem to think that he’d said anything odd. That was until he caught sight of all three of his companion’s faces. Script, Sunset, and Sonata, all had the exact same tightness to their expressions, as though they had all developed a spontaneous case of lockjaw.
“What?” he asked, a crease forming between his brows.
“You know, maybe Script’s right,” Sonata whispered conspiratorially to Sunset. “Perhaps you could, err...” she nodded her head towards the dwelling. “You know, help him out a bit?”
“Given the alternative, I’m beginning to think that’ll be the less painful option.”
“Okay, stop, stop. Just stop,” Loyal Stride said, standing in front of the house. “What do you three know that I don’t?”
Them,” Script said without preamble.
Them just about sums it up,” Sonata agreed.
“They can be quite...” Sunset bit her lip. Then she looked around a few times. Finally she opened her mouth, hesitated, and said “Difficult.”
Loyal Stride gave them all cool looks. “That explained nothing.”
“Well we wouldn’t want to put you off them too soon,” Script muttered.
“Come on,” Sunset said. “If they’re house is locked up, they still live here. So they’ll be around here somewhere. Likely in the nearest town trying to peddle some nonsense on unsuspecting ponies.”
“They’re con-artists?” Loyal Stride asked warily.
“That term doesn’t do them justice,” Script said darkly.
“They’re entrepreneurs for the most part,” Sunset amended quickly. “But they’re not above taking you for all you’re worth.”
“Do you think they’ll deny us the help we need?”
“I doubt it,” Script snorted. “They’ll be eager to help us. Only too happy to serve. For the right price.
“The moment we ask them, they won’t leave us alone,” Sonata sighed.
Sonata hadn’t had much to do with Flim and Flam in the human world. Her most lengthy exposure to them was during the fundraising concert for Aria’s operation, where the twins, and their cousins, had set up shop selling merchandise in return for certain favours. Other than that, her general interaction with the two of them had been limited to the two times she had entered their shop. Both times they had attempted to – albeit unsuccessfully – sell her a host useless objects that she did not need and certainly didn’t want. Sonata found it more expedient to avoid them.
The prospect of purposefully seeking them out reminded Sonata forcefully of this one time she’d asked an elderly lady on a bus a personal question. The following conversation had been extremely one-sided, awkward, and only ended when the bus driver called the old lady to her stop. If the whole thing hadn’t been awkward enough, it was made worse by the knowledge that she had brought it all upon herself.
“If we can’t pay though,” Sunset pointed out, “they won’t lift a hoof to help us.”
“Well then, what options do we have?” Loyal Stride demanded briskly. “We need to decide. Now.”
Script let out an irritable sigh that sounded close to a snort. “Fine! But on your head be it, Strider. I hope you’ve got a leg you don’t mind selling.”


Although it was practically impossible, Sonata had maintained a subconscious attention to the Equestrian landscape in case they inspired some distant memory from her past. She held out a small hope that a mountain, a range of hills, a forest, or even the placement of a town or city might trigger some long dormant memory.
As she’d expected, she’d so far been disappointed.
This road, for instance, old and rutted, more reminded Sonata of the trip she’d taken with Sunset and her friends to Whitetail, following Pinkie Pie’s lead on Adagio. Even the trees all around them, decked out in their late-summer colours and darkened by the velvety purple sky, looked like any other trees. Sonata didn’t let this bother her much; after all, she had other things to dampen her spirits and make her unhappy.
The road ran on for a little while, eventually widening out into a larger thoroughfare that was better maintained, freer of overhanging branches, and illuminated by the extravagant lighting of a town ahead.
It took Sonata a moment to realise, for her mind was otherwise occupied, that the lights were not those of street lamps and house windows, but those of a loud, and obnoxiously large display. Bright primary colours illuminated by spot lights spelled out enormous words in bold font, surrounding a colossal picture of a spritzer bottle. A spritzer bottle bearing the faces of two individuals Sonata instantly recognised, even though she’d never seen them as ponies before.
“Between you and me,” Sunset muttered to Sonata out of the corner of her mouth, “I was kinda hoping they were actually descendents or something.”
Sonata simply gaped. “I don’t get it. How are they still alive after all this time?”
They, Script, and Loyal Stride, came to the edge of a reasonably sized crowd at the edge of the town, where a large square had evidently been established to welcome people to the town. Quite why the entrance should be facing a broken-down road, Sonata couldn’t imagine, but looking to one side, she saw a tall, wooden sign hoof-crafted to look like a dangling flag with a pegasus staff-top above it.

Welcome to Dragon’s Den!

A Town of Magic, History, and Crafts!


(Dragon-Free since 2:34 Celestial)

“Hey Sunset?”
“What?”
“What’s that date there?”
Sunset looked up at the sign. “Oh, it refers to the age and the year.” Seeing that Sonata didn’t understand, Sunset went on. “The two refers to which age it is. The second age was the Celestial Age, the thousand year period of Celestia’s solitary reign. Originally it was named the Age of Unification after the uniting of the three tribes, but they changed it after Princess Luna’s banishment. The first age was the Cold Age. Unless they changed the name of the one we’re in, it should be the Reconciled Age.”
“Reconciled?” Sonata said, frowning.
“It means ‘to make amends’,” Sunset explained. “Celestia told me when I was her student that a great many threats to Equestria would arise in the wake of Nightmare Moon’s return. It would herald a period of turmoil and danger for Equestria, and she believed that attempting to make amends with surrounding nations and returning enemies—“
“What?” Sonata asked, a little disconcerted by her sudden pause.
Sunset smiled, although Sonata thought that it was a sad sort of smile. “Discord,” she said. “Discord came back, and helped us. Or, tried to help Equestria. Well, at least I know that my teacher was right. Her way obviously worked. I didn’t agree with her at the time,” she added before Sonata could ask. “I told her... well, I thought she should have done things differently. I thought I knew the better way.”
Sonata didn’t know the particulars of her disagreement with her former teacher, but it was clear the subject was not one she wanted to discuss. She remembered very well what the other kids at Canterlot High had been whispering, the rumours and gossip spread so liberally around about Sunset’s former personality, and the means by which she had attempted to seize power. Having no room to proselytise on the subject herself, Sonata had in general not touched upon the subject too often before, but now... maybe now, they should...
She was moralising to herself in this way, when there came an appreciative tone of approval from the crowd that quite distracted her. Looking up, she found that a podium had risen in between the large sign and the crowd, where two ponies with the largest, falsest grins she’d ever seen, were singing to the crowd.
Actually singing.
Sonata had to admit to herself that in the furore of everything that had happened since coming here, music had become something almost foreign to her. Whatever the brothers had been singing about however was lost, as both of them ignited their horns, and a shower of fireworks blasted into the sky.
The crowd “Ooh!”’d and “Ahh!”’d, and a fair amount of stamping ensued, the pony equivalent of clapping. The brothers both bowed in turn and doffed their hats.
“That’s right, mares and gentlecolts!” said Flim, his clean-shaven face gleaming like a well polished stone.
And curiously enough, this wasn’t a wholly figurative description. Staring at them in the glare of the floodlights, Sonata could plainly see something that she’d either never seen, or never noticed before. Both Flim and Flam had the glittering, jewel-like quality to their eyes that she’d noticed in the non-changeling population of Gauzeville, and the odd sharpness to what should have been herbivorous teeth. But unless it was some trick of the light, Sonata could have sworn that their bodies were different too. They were shiny, literally reflecting the yellowish light of the podium onto surfaces all around them, as though they were made of dense glass. Every so often when one of them turned, Sonata caught a beam of light int he eye as it reflected off their bodies like a mirror.
“Don’t try this at home, folks!” Flam was saying, pulling out what looked like a lantern. “Yes, please maintain a safe distance!” he continued, his tone becoming low and warning. “Live Summer Flies! Now, please watch closely!”
This, in Sonata’s opinion, was where things got weird. Flim, using a pair of scissors, sheared off a snip of his own tail, and levitated the clippings onto an old-fashioned projector. A large, white roll fell down over the sign, providing a back for the projector’s image. Once in focus, Flam levitated the lantern forward. Sonata couldn’t be sure why, but both he, Flim, and the crowd, were treating the perfectly innocuous looking lamp as though it was a bomb of the nuclear variety. They edged backwards, muttering nervously, whilst Flim and Flam backed to the corners of their raised stage, giving each other meaningful looks.
“What’s going on?” Sonata whispered to Sunset. Sunset merely shrugged, looking just as nonplussed.
On stage, Flam gave his horn a wave, and the lantern shook a little. A purplish white glow emitted from the lantern as the little insects all started lighting up inside. Sonata laboured under a further few moments of bewilderment, until Sunset gave a little gasp, staring at the projector screen.
The hairs on the screen were curling in on themselves, twisting and writhing, and then suddenly erupted into flame.
A cloth descended quickly over the lantern, blocking out the light, and Flam leapt forward suavely to blow away the smouldering hairs.
“There you have it, folks!” Flim said, in the manner of a magician unveiling their star act. “A fate none of us wish to experience, I’m sure!”
“I know I wouldn’t!” Flam agreed, appearing next to his brother. “Why, I saw that exact thing happen to a dear friend of mine. Stepped out of his house one day in full sunlight. Bang, boom, POOF! Gone!”
“That story is bunk,” Script grunted. “They don’t have any friends.”
“That’s why I always carry a bottle of Flim and Flam’s Splendid Solar Screening and Sprucing Spray!” Flam finished dramatically.
“What is Flim and Flam’s Splendid Solar Screening and Sprucing Spray, you ask?” Flim demanded of the audience, although no pony had asked any such thing.
“Oh, it’s simply marvellous!” Flam said, as though saying something that was perfectly obvious.
“A miracle in a bottle!” Flim added, and with a flash of his horn, said miracle-in-a-bottle appeared in mid-air. “Perfect for all of your day-treading needs!”
“Protects in all weather, from mild morning glow—“
“—to blinding summer heats!”
“And that’s not all!” Flim cried in mock astonishment.
“It also stylises and conditions your mane!” Flam informed, as though equally surprised.
“It’s completely water resistant!”
“And guaranteed to last from dawn till dusk!”
“And since you all work so hard—“
“—to make ends meet—“
“Our formula is only two-thirds that of our closest competitor!”
Sonata heard an audible groan from nearby.
“Get on with it,” Script grumbled. “These two love to hear themselves talk.”
“But wait,” Sonata said, frowning. “How are they still alive?” She felt a lick of frustration when all Script did was give her an impatient, puzzled look. “We knew these guys in the other world. They can’t be seventy-something years old.”
“Well, they’re Nightlanders, aren’t they,” Script said, in the manner of someone explaining that the blue tap is the cold one, and the red the hot one.
“So?” Sunset weighed in. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
Script looked at them as though wondering if they were punking him. “I did tell you about the plague, didn’t I?”
“I’m starting to think you missed a crucial detail,” Sunset said.
“Mm,” Script said, a little uncomfortably. “The details are long and complicated, but—“ He lowered his voice. “Nightlanders are the victims of the plague from just prior to the invasion. The disease changed the bodies of the afflicted, presumably irrevocably. I’ve not had the opportunity to look into any autopsy reports or perform any experimentation myself,“ he went on blithely, apparently unaware of the growing green tinge to Sunset and Sonata’s face. “But the essential point is that any pony afflicted and still alive since the Sacrifice of Kindness event when the Spirit of Chaos gave up his corporeal form, is functionally pseudo-immortal.”
“Pseudo-immortal?” Sunset noted.
“Well, unlike Manda,” Script continued, looking pointedly at Sonata, “Nightlanders can be killed. But they stop aging, and get this kind of...” he twirled his hoof a little in front of him, trying to find the right word. “They look shiny,” he finished. “Oh, and the sun sets them on fire.”
“The sun does what?” Sonata exclaimed.
Script pointed up at the stage.
Having come to the end of their sales pitch, Flim and Flam were now holding aloft the miracle-item they were peddling for the day. It was nothing more than a spritzer-bottle, the same sort of thing one might expect perfume to be sold in.
“And now watch carefully, folks!” Flim was saying, holding the bottle magically. “As my brother proves, before your very eyes, that our product does all that we say it will!”
With this, he misted his brother roundly, giving his body an even coating, and then stepped deftly back, as Flam approached the covered lantern. Employing only the most minute of pauses, he gave the crowd a cheeky wink, and lifted the cover.
The crowd cringed away again, as though repelled by the soft, white light. But Flam grinned broadly, turning this way and that to show the crowd. The crowd in turn gave appreciative murmurs and a few cheers.
“Thank you, thank you!” Flim cried from a safe distance.
“And it can be yours, ladies and gentlecolts!” Flam continued, striding forward to the edge of the stage. And then it happened.
Sonata’s eyes felt as though they were going to pop out of her head when she noticed the thin plume of smoke rising from Flam’s red tail. And then with a little roar, a bright green flame erupted, setting the tail aflame. The crowd gasped and several ponies screamed.
“Nothing to be afraid of, folks!” Flam said, evidently unaware of his smouldering tail.
“Ah!” Flim shouted, half-way between a cry of shock and feeble bravado. “Be sure to get that perfect even coat!” he said, his voice trembling nervously as he stomped out the flames.
The crowd seemed to be in two minds about the performance, but Sunset and Sonata simply stared.
“Are you kidding me?” Sunset said disbelievingly. “Sunlight makes Nightlanders combust?”
“What did you think the eternal dusk was all about?” Script asked. “You thought perhaps that the night princess was just trying to make a statement? That it was just some aesthetic choice?”
“Well, no,” Sunset said, annoyed. “But ponies setting on fire? That’s just—“ She seemed to struggle for words.
“It was quite the hot topic, once,” Script said, trying not to smirk.
“Oh, please don’t,” Sunset groaned.
“Yeah, that conversation was on fire,” Script went on relentlessly. “Much like some of the early victims.”
“I will knock out all of your teeth.”
“So Flim and Flam are selling sun lotion?” Sonata asked, hoping to distract the two of them before they could actually come to blows.
“SPF one million,” Sunset agreed, frowning at the stage as Flam gave his singed tail a pained look.
“One of their many scams, I’m guessing,” Script said speculatively. “Although I don’t see how, this time. The stuff seems to work just like all the other available prophylactics against sun scorch. You know they tried to sell me an authentic pierce of Canterlot Castle, once?”
“Not authentic?” Sonata guessed.
“If they’re going to be selling this stuff, I suppose we should wait until they’re done before asking them for something else,” Sunset said.
“True,” Script agreed. “Trying to tear them away from a sale is like trying to get Strider away from old western novels.”
Sonata and Sunset stared at him.
“Old west?” Sunset asked incredulously. “Roam has an old west?”
“No,” Script admitted. “But you Equestrians do. It became quite the fad fifty years ago.”
“There’s still plenty of ponies who enjoy old west culture,” Loyal Stride said sternly.
“Yeah. Old ponies,” Script snickered.
Whilst Loyal Stride’s lips tightened, Sunset spoke up again. “Well let’s all just have a look around, then. No sense us waiting around for them. Meet back here when it looks like the crowd’s thinning, so don’t go far.”
As Script wandered off in the direction of a chemist’s, and Loyal Stride towards a line of casual shops, Sunset and Sonata zeroed in on a local cafe. In keeping with the theme of the town, the facade was decorated to resemble a stylised medieval castle, with a metal dragon emerging over the back to place a claw threateningly on the tallest two-dimensional tower.
Sunset made a bee-line straight for the entrance, but Sonata held back as something caught her eye. Somepony seated at one of the outdoor tables had been doing a wonderful impression of a pony eating a doughnut and reading a small paperback book. But when they set the book down just a bit louder than they needed to, they caught Sonata’s eye and inclined their head towards the street.
“Hey, um, would you mind getting my coffee for me? I need to use the bathroom.”
“Huh?” Sunset said, not having been paying attention. “Oh. Sure, yeah. I’ll be at that table when you get back.”
Sonata gave her a brief smile, and then when she was sure that Sunset was adequately focused elsewhere, nipped quickly off after the other pony.
A little way down the street, further away from Flim and Flam’s performance, the road curved into a row of houses. Sonata followed the pony cautiously to the crevice between the end shop and the first house, separated by two close rows of wooden fencing.
“You’re further away from your goal than you began,” the pony said as Sonata tentatively stepped into the alleyway. A strong green light flared, and there appeared a changeling, its brilliant blue eyes staring in the shadows.
“You’re the same one from before,” Sonata surmised. “The one who warned me about Gauzeville.”
“Yes. You headed north rather than south. I know that the Over-Queen does not wish this.”
“We needed to come here for transportation,” Sonata said. “Script says the Flim Flam Brothers can take us there quickest.”
The changeling narrowed its eyes, and began to pace. “The Flim Flam Brothers,” she repeated. “You choose strange allies. The thin Roaman and the soldier were a bad choice to begin with, but those two hucksters? Next you’ll tell me that you’re thinking of marching on Canterlot to ask for the help of the Love Princess.”
“I can’t see us doing that any time soon,” Sonata said, repressing a smile. “I have some doubts though,” she admitted. “Even if we get there, how are we supposed to rescue Princess Celestia from a Roaman legion? What are we supposed to do against an army?”
“The Over-Queen will provide,” the changeling said mysteriously.
“Provide what exactly?” Sonata asked hopefully.
“I don’t know,” the changeling admitted. “But I sense that she has plans in motion around you. I do not believe that she would send you there unprepared. Speaking of which,” she said as though a thought had just occurred to her. “How did you convince your companions to go with you? I thought for certain that the Roamans would object.”
“I didn’t convince them,” Sonata said, looking at a small hole in a nearby plank of the fencing. “We decided together it was for the best that we go.”
The changeling paused for a moment. “Indeed,” she said flatly. She looked sideways in the general direction of the Flim Flam Brother’s display, and made a disgusted noise.
“A bothersome pair,” she muttered.
“Do you know them?” Sonata asked.
The changeling’s lips curled. “No. But I know of them. They were banished from Last Light many decades ago for illicit entrepreneurial methods, as they put it. As I understand it, they’re business has not been much the same ever since. They once held a great deal of sway amongst the solar spray merchants.”
“Solar sprays,” Sonata said to herself. “That stuff they’re selling. They make that stuff?”
The changeling snorted. “You obviously don’t know them very well” she said disgustedly.
Sonata curled a lip, but said nothing to this.
“Every business venture of theirs is a scam of some sort. That spray they’re selling isn’t their own. They’re own brand hasn’t been produced in some twenty years since they lost the revenue to maintain their plants. That stuff they’re peddling is another popular brand that they’re rebottling and underselling to make a fast bit.”
“How do you know that?” Sonata asked, shocked.
“Perhaps I didn’t make my profession very clear to you,” the changeling said, sneering. “We keep an eye on them just in case they do anything damaging to the public.”
“Isn’t scamming people damaging?” Sonata asked. “And – wait, Princess Luna employs changelings as secret police?”
The changeling made a mewing sound. “Technically, and I stress that technically, they aren’t doing anything illegal. Right now. There’s a legal loophole where so long as—“ she stopped. “Never mind, the point is that it’s not technically illegal. But it is unethical. And what the Over-Queen does is not your concern, day-walker,” she added warningly. “We watch problematic elements at the behest of Queen Nightborn, as service to the Over-Queen.”
Sonata considered it rather severe condemnation for a creature such as a changeling, which by its very nature must deceive and drain the love out of ponies just to survive, to call somepony else unethical.
“So, do you have any other ideas?”
“No,” the changeling said. “I was sent here to give you an informant’s name. Someone in the Roaman military who might assist you.”
Sonata perked up. “Really? Who?”
“A Roaman senator who is inspecting the mining operations. Goes by the name of Servilus. If you can contact him, he’ll help you get into the camp.”
“Well how do I contact him if he’s in the camp?”
“There’s a place not far from the Badlands border called Dodge City. Several of the border towns have trade agreements and other business arrangements with the legion and mining company. Servilus makes regular visits to Dodge City during his stay in order to ensure the supply of food to the camp.”
“And I can just meet him there?”
“I don’t see why not. The Roamans primarily communicate via radio, so even if he’s not on the ground, you should still be able to contact him. He should be expecting you.”
“I guess that is helpful,” Sonata admitted.
“Your real problem will be getting those brothers to help you,” the changeling said, shaking her head. “They’ll wring every bit out of you for the least bit of assistance.”
“Well fortunately, we don’t really have any money,” Sonata said, smiling.
The changeling snorted. “Well then, good luck to you.”
With another flash of green, the changeling shifted back into its pony guise, and disappeared into the street.


“Where did you go?”
Sonata sat down at the table, which was in the charming form of a wagon wheel, her head buzzing with what the changeling had told her, and so consequently didn’t immediately hear what Sunset was saying to her.
“Sonata?”
“Hm?” Sonata looked up.
“I asked where you went,” Sunset said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said you needed the bathroom.”
“Yeah,” Sonata said. Then she blinked herself back to her surroundings. “Oh, I did, but then I, um—“ She hesitated. She didn’t think it a good idea to tell the truth right now. The last time the changeling had spoken to her had not gone over well when she admitted it to her friends. “I ran into this mare and we talked a little.”
“You ran into a mare?” Sunset asked, the edge of her mouth quivering. “Should I be jealous?”
Sonata spluttered into her coffee. “It wasn’t like that!” she coughed. Noticing Sunset snickering at her, she rolled her eyes. “She told me some things about Flim and Flam. I got the feeling she doesn’t like them much.”
“Well neither do I, if it comes to that,” Sunset admitted. “But it’s not like we’re trying to be friends with them or something. We just get a vehicle off them and leave. Simple as that.”
“I suppose so,” Sonata said. “Do they have any cake in there?”
“I ordered us sandwiches,” Sunset replied. “Get this. Hay and daisy sandwiches!” She gave a little squee. “Oh, it’s been so long, I’ve almost forgotten what they taste like. All I ate on that one visit was cake. Cake, cake, and more cake at Sugarcube Corner.”
“I don’t think I ever actually had a sandwich in Equestria,” Sonata said, rubbing her chin. “I don’t think they’d been invented yet.”
The waiter, who’d appeared next to their table whilst they were talking, gave Sonata a narrow look. “Your sandwiches,” he said in a refined voice. “Might I get madams anything else?”
“Another one of these, garcon,” said Script, appearing suddenly on the other side of the table. Without preamble, he picked up the closest sandwich with his magic, which happened to be Sonata’s, and stuffed it whole into his mouth. “She doesn’t have one.”
“Hey!” Sonata cried.
“Oh, shut up, I’m paying for them,” Script snapped irritably.
“What crawled up your butt?” Sunset asked, frowning at Script. “And... and why? Just why?” she asked, her eyes darting to something to Script’s left.
Sonata’s eyes flicked sideways to see what it was Sunset was seeing, and almost choked on her coffee again. Like a tall shadow, Loyal Stride stood a little apart from Script, towering over the group like some ominous premonition of doom. Offsetting his intimidation factor was, perched jauntily on the side of his head, a tall, wide-brimmed cowboy hat, complete with brown cord tied at the base of it, and a little star icon hanging from it. It looked to Sonata as though Loyal Stride had reached into a John Wayne movie and stolen one of the props.
“You look nice,” Sonata commented honestly.
“Mm,” Loyal Stride hummed, determinately not looking at anyone, although Sonata thought she saw his expression soften a little when he thought everypony else had looked away.
“He was pining for it,” Script said. “But he’ll never ask for anything. As to what’s scurried into my rectum,” he went on, several surrounding customers, and the waiter, all cringing, “it’s those damnable brothers! Not content to remain on that ridiculous stage of theirs, they took their show into the chemist’s and decided they’d pull their comparing prices shtick. Then they had the audacity to pull me into the routine.”
“That does sound like a pain,” Sunset said without a trace of sympathy.
“Not only that, when I pulled one of them aside to ask about transportation, they brushed me off!”
He ground his teeth for a second and then seized Sunset’s sandwich too. Whether Sunset had been expecting it or not, Sonata didn’t know, but before Script could stuff the sandwich into his mouth, a golden glow enveloped it and plucked it from his grip. Breaking it in two, she levitated half to Sonata.
“Perhaps we just need to ask them in a different way to how you did it,” Sunset said icily. “You can be a little thoughtless.”
“How can you say that?” Script asked indignantly. “I just bought Strider a hat!”
“Let’s just go and talk to them again, and see if one of us at least can’t convince them,” Sunset said. “We can try appealing to their better nature.”
“I hope by better nature, you mean their tacit greed and callous need to wring pennies out of the elderly.”
“Actually, yes,” Sunset said. “We take advantage of their weakness for making a fast bit. We just have to make them an offer they can’t refuse.”
“That sounds sinister,” Script acknowledged approvingly. “And what kind of offer did you have in mind?”
“A reward,” Sunset said simply. “A big one.”
Script flapped his lips. “Was kinda hoping you had something a bit more robust there.”
“Look, we’re going to rescue Princess Celestia,” Sunset explained, giving their surroundings a quick one-over to make sure no pony was listening. “If we manage to rescue her, then either she, Princess Luna, Cadence, or even Twilight might feel themselves obliged to reimburse those involved. We won’t want a reward of course—“
“Speak for yourself,” Script muttered.
“—but Flim and Flam would be only too happy to take an enormous pile of gold in exchange for doing the right thing.”
“True, but you’ll still never get them to go for it. There’s no guarantee here.”
“All they have to do is drive us down to Dodge City,” Sunset said, frowning impatiently. “It may be a bit far, but we’re not asking them to jump in a fire for us.”
“Rescue Princess Celestia?” Loyal Stride said slowly.
Sonata looked at him. He’d said it as though he’d only just heard the phrase being said. After a few moments of looking puzzled, he blinked, and then returned his attention to the ongoing conversation.
“Fine,” Script said, throwing up both hooves. “You ask. Just don’t be shocked when they tell you to go—“
“Isn’t that them?” Sonata pointed out.
Sonata didn’t quite know what bizarre origami-style magic the brothers had performed on their enormous stage and displays, but they’d somehow managed to cram the entire ensemble into a steampunk-looking transport no bigger than the average pick-up truck. This they rode carriage-style sitting on the box, the vehicle chugging along with many mechanical whirs and puffs of steam.
With a boldness Sonata admired, Sunset strode out into the road and hailed them. With identical looks of mild surprise on their faces, Flim and Flam ignited their horns in pear-green glows, bringing their transportation to a gradual halt.
“And what can we do for you?” Flim asked.
“Ms, um...” Flam added, giving Sunset a look of polite inquiry.
“Wow, they really haven’t changed,” Sonata muttered to herself, remembering their human counterparts. “They even talk the same.”
“We were wondering if you’d be in the market for a commission,” Sunset went on, once she’d given her name. “My friends and I need—“
“Ah!” Flim interrupted, catching sight of Script’s contemptuous expression. “As we’ve already explained to this gentlecolt,” he continued.
“We don’t deal in transportation,” Flam ended. Without preamble, they ignited their horns again, preparing to leave.
“Hang on!” Sunset exclaimed. “Wait, we haven’t even discussed—“
“We’ve discussed the business to our complete satisfaction,” Flim interrupted, turning his head suddenly so that the vehicle swerved to move around Sunset.
“Hey!” Sonata shouted. “Don’t you ignore her like that!”
“I’m sorry,” Flam said, not looking sorry at all as Sonata too stepped into their path. “But our business is concluded for the day. Please step aside.”
“You’d better stop and talk to us, right now,” Sonata said angrily, feeling increasingly more and more peeved as Flim gave her an impatient glare, and Flam yawned conspicuously. “Or else I’ll tell everyone around here about that suntan lotion you’re selling.”
“Solar spray?” Script suggested, giving Sonata a cautious, amused sort of look.
“Yeah, that stuff.”
“What’s to tell?” Flim asked, levitating a bottle of it from the back of the vehicle. “That it’s amazing? Does exactly what it says on the package?”
“That it’s two-thirds the cost of the next leading brand?” Flam added, winking conspiratorially at passers-by.
“No,” Sonata said coldly. “I’ll tell people where you get it from.”
A rather pregnant pause followed this pronouncement. Eventually, Flam cleared his throat, recovering from his moment of shock.
“We brew it ourselves, of course!” he said loudly enough for everypony around to hear. “To be sure, fortunes have fallen a little, but Flim and Flam’s Satisfaction-Guaranteed Splendid Solar Screening and Sprucing Spray works just as well as it ever—“
“You don’t make that stuff,” Sonata said, matching their volume. “All you do is take some other brand, and—“
“Now, now!” Flim boomed, rolling one eye over the pedestrians all around. He leapt down from the box. “Those are some strong and completely unsupportable accusations!” He leaned in close. “What’s the deal, kid? I don’t come to your town and try to ruin your business.”
“We are a legitimate business,” Flam added.
“Princess Luna doesn’t seem to agree,” Sonata said acidly.
Flim and Flam glanced briefly at one another.
“If you had any evidence for these wild accusations,” Flim said, banishing his scowl and adopting a condescending sneer. “Perhaps the good ponies here might have something to complain abou—“
“So what’s this?” Script asked.
Having taken advantage of the brother’s focus on Sonata, Script had strolled casually around the side of the vehicle, and lifted a bit of tarp. He indicated a glass container, on which there was a patch of dust and debris clinging tight to it.
“You know in the right light, it almost looks like there’s been a label ripped off here,” he said. “A very specifically shaped label.”
Flim and Flam both glanced at each other again. Flam swallowed.
“Yes, well, it may have been reused,” Flam began.
“Hard times require that we do our part for the environment,” Flim continued in a more confident tone. “We recycle our equipment often.”
“So I could just take a look at your inventory report, then?” Script asked politely, his eyes alight with sadistic glee. “See where your stock is from?”
“Of course not!” Flam snapped. “That’s our private business! You have no right to—“
“It’s Equestrian law that we know where products come from,” Sunset interjected. “You wouldn’t hide that information from us, would you?”
“Of course they wouldn’t,” Script said silkily. “I’m sure they’re just concerned that ponies might just try to cut out the middle-stallion. But that couldn’t possibly happen,” he went on relentlessly, almost nose-to-nose with Flim. “Because these guys are a legitimate business, who obviously have legal ties with their suppliers and have documentation proving it. Don’t you?” he finished, looking Flim directly in the eye.
Flim’s lips were tight. A trickle of sweat ran down his oddly smooth face, and the crystalline look of his eyes glittered as he blinked moisture out of them. He cleared his throat with some difficulty as he eyed the pedestrians all around them, who were all looking inquiringly at the scene. Sonata noticed one bright blue pegasus who was holding a bottle of Flim and Flam’s product hold up the solar spray, as though looking for a sign of where it was from. Apparently not finding one, she looked suspiciously at Flim and Flam, her mouth slightly open. Sonata felt a slight creeping coldness to see the sharp teeth the Nightlander possessed.
Flim and Flam, already looking uncomfortable, began to look positively nervous at how the gathering crowd of passers-by seemed to be regarding them.
“Fine, we’ll talk about it,” Flim said quickly in between his teeth.
“But not here,” Flam concurred, speaking from behind a hoof.
“Isn’t it wonderful when everypony is reasonable?” Script commented pleasantly, as he and the others followed the brother’s vehicle out of town.
“We threatened them with an angry mob,” Sunset pointed out, and then kissed Sonata on the cheek. “That was quick thinking.”
Sonata blushed, but not because of the kiss. “I wasn’t trying to blackmail them.”
“No,” Sunset agreed. “I know that you weren’t. And to be honest, if it were any other ponies, I’d be against it. With these two, though, I think I can stem the tide of my guilt for the moment.” She laughed lightly.
Sonata laughed with her, but felt a cascade of ice tumble into her stomach.
“A stroke of genius I would not have expected from you,” Script interrupted, reaching up and giving Sonata what was no-doubt meant to be a good-natured and friendly strike on the noggin. “I’m going to be honest; I thought that you were an idiot. But you have renewed my reasoned trust in the inherent intelligence of all pony-kind.” He sniffed loudly. “It almost makes me want to cry. You should use your cunning and guile more often. Maybe then ponies will actually think that you’re smart.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sonata said uncomfortably.
As they wended their way back down the broken-down path towards Flim and Flam’s home, Sonata couldn’t help but feel regret. She couldn’t help but think that blackmailing the Flim Flam Brothers was an ominous sign for the path they’d chosen to take. The path she had chosen to take.


- To be Continued