//------------------------------// // Reevaluate The Situation // Story: Lutscintorb // by Mary Sue //------------------------------// Sharp Tack hoisted Sparkler’s unconscious body into the driver’s box of the stagecoach. He wound a pair of ropes around her hooves and tied them off around the metal rungs on the opposite side panels. Whiskey then appeared, floating forward the blue-tipped horn cap. Sharp Tack took it in his hooves and gave it a critical look. “How long will this one last for?” “Four days,” he replied. “Easy. It’s not going to blow up overnight.” “I can see that at least,” Sharp Tack remarked, and then slapped it on top of Sparkler’s head. He tightened the band at the base to the base of her horn, then hopped off the stagecoach. “Well, I guess keeping her going for two days was better than none. I hate when we have to actually take care of them.” “She kept us going, too,” Whiskey grumbled. He tossed the folded up map at his friend. “She tried to hide it in that book of hers. Imagine what would’ve happened if she got away with it?” Sharp Tack unfolded the map and pursed his lips. All across the worn and weathered page, in addition to the various borders and landmarks, were years’ worth of travel notes and sketches they had assembled. Notes such as who were the controlling gangs of several large cities, contact information for several of their associates, and of course the paths to stray away from in order to avoid local officials and checkpoints. He grimaced at it, more so at the implications of having it stolen rather than simply losing it, and he folded it back up. “That’s troubling,” was all he said. “Understatement of the year,” Whiskey retorted, taking it back with his magic. He returned the map to its home in the banged-up metal box. “How’d she even find it? Had to be when we were asleep last night, right?” “It doesn’t matter,” Sharp Tack said with a sigh. “I’ve had my suspicions about her ever since she first opened her mouth. It’s a good thing she’s a horrible liar. You know that place she said she’s from? I called it something else and she didn’t bother correcting me. Heck, I even started calling her ‘representative Blink’ representative ‘Binks’, and I even got her to start calling him that! She is absolutely terrible at lying and she can’t even do the acting to support it.” Whiskey pinched the bridge of his snout and shook his head. “So, what now? If we can’t trust her story, then we can trust her being here.” “And if she was after that,” Sharp Tack added, pointing at the metal box, “or something like it, then that means she was sent to us deliberately. She’s after us.” “Dammit!” Whiskey stomped a hoof in the grass. “What, do you think she’s a bounty hunter or something?” “Worse,” Sharp Tack said after a pause. He pointed back at her. “We both know that a pony of those colors is somepony of high class. Dignified. Pinks, whites, purples: they’re all the same. Someone with power sent her after us.” Whiskey blanched. “You don’t think she’s with the Bureau, do you?” “Something like it, at least.” Sharp Tack shook his head. “You know the Green Stretch crosses through a dozen and half countries. It could be any agency under the sun for all we know!” “God! Dammit!” Whiskey threw his hat down, exposing his messy orange-brown hair. “How would they even find us?!” “You think I know that?!” Sharp Tack yelled. “You were the one who was all excited about trying to work a ransom out of her!” “You were the one who was so set on finding her in the first place!” Whiskey hollered. “So, by the way, it’s still three to one!” “Two to one, you lazy bastard!” “Whatever!” Whiskey threw a hoof out. “And who’s saying we can’t work a ransom out of her still? If she is Beauru, then that means the ball’s in our court!” “If they know we have her, that means they’re just going to come after us harder,” Sharp Tack droned. “Not if we play our cards right,” Whiskey added with a smile, throwing a hoof up. “For all we know, they think we’re just some lowly traffickers. They could be trying to get to the boss. The way I see it, there are three possibilities.” He cupped his hooves and clapped them together as he counted off: “If she were to... not, report back to whoever, then they’re probably going to think we killed her. And that would make us more wanted targets. Alternatively, we could just let her go and hope they don’t send someone more ‘experienced’ after us.” “And if we hold her for a ransom...” “We hold her, and we let her contact her superiors or whatever with our demands. Of course, a giant pile of bits. But we could also cough up some ‘information’ about our ‘organization’, in exchange for our release.” He smiled widely. “So not only do we get a big ol’ sack of bits, but we also send some feds off our scent. It’s a win-win!” “Huh.” Sharp Tack clicked his tongue and briefly thought it over. “I actually kind of like it. Who’d of thought you knew how to work that head of yours?” “You’re quick on your hooves, but I got the bigger picture in mind,” Whisky teased, tapping the side of his head. “And, I might add, that now it is three to one.”