//------------------------------// // Chapter 9: Outrun // Story: Equestria Delivery // by JLB //------------------------------// May 21st, 1013 AN - 12:43 PM Carol City, Equestria Ditzy sat on a white plastic chair in front of the gazebo table. She held up her head with a forehoof, staring at the quiet waves of the ocean a short stretch of the beach away. Sweat dripped and rolled down her sunglasses, while the mild breeze ruffled her mane, as well as the pages of the book laid over her other forehoof. She retrieved it and waved lazily at her daughter, who was further down from her, not braving the ocean itself just yet, but splashing near the edge next to a couple other foals. The filly nodded and waded deeper into the water, while the mare flipped a few more pages, occasionally looking up to check on the filly unicorn. ...blaming the resultant societal and economic changes on them. The outrage was caused in no small part by the reinstatement of the vital branches of several country-wide businesses, as well as the newly established government, in what was at the time considered a suboptimal location for a new seat of power… She huffed, wiping the sweat from her forehead, and sighed when several droplets fell on the pages of the book. Her neck craned downwards, and Ditzy breathed more and more steadily before shaking her head and perking her ears. A successful check on the filly sent her back to succumbing to the drowsy, blurry haze. ...initially starkly insisted that that the events of the Wedding War of 1002-1004 are only partly responsible for the reforms, defending the establishment of a democratically elected High Council claiming “retrospectively obvious fatal flaws in Equestria’s most basic customs and laws”… Restrained to the two pages of the book in front of her until the sweat dried up, the mare buried her snout on an empty spot of the table, sitting still for a few seconds before letting out another sigh. Slowly, she raised her head and lifted up the sunglasses to help her eye focus on the words. ...into donning the title of "Sovereign Princess", albeit continuing many of the practices and programs established during the Council's short tenure. While public morale polls showed an improvement upon return to direct monarchy, now-Sovereign Twilight Sparkle questioned the discrepancy between approval for the Council's ideas and the Council itself… After some more attempts at taking in the words, Ditzy finally saw the sweat evaporate, and abruptly shut the blank-covered book, startling a few other ponies next to her. Drowsily, the pegasus checked the watch on her left foreleg. She then took a wide hat out of her bag and replaced it with the book before leaving the gazebo and going out into the sunlight. The space she occupied on the bench and the table was quickly taken over by the other ponies that were hiding in the shade next to her while she was there. Ditzy made her way to the edge of the water and waved her forehoof in the air before giving a few light splashy stomps in the almost warm ocean. Before she could get worried, Dinky squeezed herself through the swarm of foals that took up most of the shallow part of the beach. “Mom? We’re going already?” The filly squirted a bit of water out of her colorful toy snorkel. “But I’ve only—” The mare closed her eyes and shook her head before raising one of her forelegs to point at a joint on the other. “Your watch is on the other leg.” She opened her eyes and stared at Dinky with the good one. Rolling her eyes, Ditzy lowered her head and covered her face up with a hoof before repeating the motions, but this time with the legs reversed, lightly tapping the face of her watch. “It’s not been that long, has it? I just managed to swim longer than I ever have, and now…” The filly tilted her head, sniffling and failing to make watery eyes when she was all watery to begin with. "Just ten more minutes?” Ditzy frowned and remained firm. She shook her head and beckoned the filly back to the shore. “Five more minutes?” Ditzy repeated the motions again. “Three more minutes?” The mare took a deep breath and starkly turned away, raising her legs high and striding haughtily, head thrown far back. She departed from the filly very slowly, and within seconds she could hear a short gallop trailing after her. Sighing contently, Ditzy let herself drop into her usual posture. “Fine, fine. It’s way too hard to swim there anyway. Everyone gets in your way. I don’t like going too far. I managed it, though! I’ll swim even farther than that one day,” Dinky told her. She trotted by Ditzy’s side as they walked among the many parasols, benches, towels, sunbathers and ice cream stands littering the beach. The mare paused and tapped her on the shoulder, smirking as she pointed with her hoof to a spot in the distance. “What’s there?” the filly asked. She received a couple of forehoof gestures in response. “Really? Wow, it’s finally open? Can we—” The mare interrupted her with a nod, and the two of them took off at a much faster pace, dodging the other ponies on the beach on their way to the newly decorated pier. They hurried past the various stores, cafes, and even a casino and small amusement park, heading all the way to the end where they managed to get a good spot in the queue for the oceanside boat ride. Once they managed to get aboard, the filly leaned against the railing to stare at the resort city as the boat cruised along its beaches, while Ditzy left her side only once to take a quick look at the postcard she kept at the bottom of her bag. It depicted a quaint seaside hut surrounded by palm trees. She was about to head back and leave the postcard in the bag, but instead she shook her head and frowned, making herself read the words printed on the back of the card, as well as what little was on the now crumpled up envelope that came with it: This note of happiness has been brought to you as part of the Equestria Delivery Free Holiday Pack Shipping promotion. Stay in touch with your friends and make sure to send them nothing but love. And don’t forget: with our service, Equestria is a wholesome unity of wonderful individuals! Your friend writes: The Super Highway Cruiser 6000 Deluxe Non-Convertible is the latest in vehicular technology, forged with Equestrian precision, Griffon discipline, Taurine durability and Capric sensibilities. Blow the minds of your friends and family and break the hearts of every girl in town, because once you and her are on the road, nothing stands in your way. Leave all you thought you knew behind and let these two wheels tear a rift in your reality - with a fusion of powers like this, life is never going to be the same. If any of this sounds swell to you, write quick! Pigeons sent May 21st 7 to 8 PM get a recall crystal for free, so that you and your wheels can never be truly separated. FROM: ________________________ TO: “Silver Lights”, 117 Tejuano Heights She returned to Dinky’s side before the bright red stamp - a bright red circle with a star, a moon and a heart inside of it - left an imprint on the table. 117 Tejuano Heights - 7:52 PM Ditzy trudged on the wet sand, the late evening tide splashing waves against her legs. The beach was empty, save for various pony detritus she had to avoid while making her way to a group of tall, wet crags that dominated the coast. Spotlights blazed across the night sky from atop the crags, and the bassy music made the air tremble even from this distance. She stopped directly in front of the rocks and looked up, flexing and stretching her limbs, the slightly damp postal outfit clinging to her tightly. As the mare tightened the straps on her bag, she lowered her eye to a single bright patch on the face of the rocks. Despite the dim light of dusk, a newspaper could be seen, having been plastered over them. It formed the familiar round symbol of the crescent, star and heart. Below it were two additional symbols - a plainly drawn grey snake, and a blue letter M. The mare stared at it for a moment, then quietly took to the air, ascending along the slippery rocks, clinging to them as often as she could while remaining silent. Soon enough, she was on level with the bar. It was a wide, two-story building with a dark, ragged exterior, some parts of it eaten by moisture and decay. The spotlights were installed on the roof, with the rest of it left bare, emitting a chaotic light show into the clear evening sky. A small rear section on the first floor lead to a platform that hung over the beach, as well as another isolated section at the front side of the bar, where multiple vehicles were parked. Ditzy took note of the one that stood out the most among the sleek, lightly glowing mini-carriages - it was a long, narrow, two-wheeled vehicle, littered with expensive ornaments, upgrades, and cosmetics of varying seriousness. She quietly leaped over the picket fence that separated the parking lot from the precipice and the back yard. Just before she approached the vehicle, which was parked close to the first floor windows of the bar, her snout dug into her bag, rummaged around for a few seconds. The pigeon's visage sat atop her head. She breathed in and flexed her neck. She was making her way to the bike, moving swiftly, only to stop short when a voice from within the building broke through the loud music. The pigeon crouched low and pressed up against the wall, her ears perking. One hoof carefully prepared the small, crystalline recall pendant that came packaged with her letter. During one of the brief flashes from the strobelights above, an avian claw engraving became visible on the device, as well as a pink lining. “—already took first blood, a lotta blood, and you want to be tight-assed about this?” “Fuck off, Suit. Or we'll go and unwind your asses. Can’t kick a shit to care about your problems, prissy boys.” The masked mare peeked in through the window for a second as she moved along the next wall, remaining out of sight for lack of security. The ground floor consisted of a large pub area and a dance floor, the rest of the walls lined with videodromes, couches, and stools gathered into a mess of furniture, overcast by the sky polo game on the displays. The screens barely had an audience, however, as seemingly the entire contingent of the bar gathered by the stools and couches - two distinct groups, one of them standing out from the grungy decor due to the blue and white that each of them wore. In the middle, a slick, electric blue-maned white unicorn in a dark blue suit stared down a large, brutish minotaur in a dark green vest, with spiked knuckles on his massive fists and a tall spiked mohawk on his head. “Are you fucking bullshitting me? Are you for real, you cow-brained bastard?! The fuck are you smoking? Open your eyes, we’re fucked! And after we’re fucked, so are you! You like being fucked, cow-boy?” “I told you, Suit. I’ll be bullshitting you, down your throat, if you don’t turn away. Right now. I don't make empty promises, Major, and I ain't been eating well lately.” The tension built between the two groups. For a moment, the pigeon could see that several of the equines - as well as a few pairs of griffons on either side - jittered and faintly sparkled with green. She paused for a few seconds, still hidden from their view. Her eye focused on the blue and white thugs that were starting to form up behind the unicorn, and her hooves trembled slightly as they gripped the windowsill. Her eyelids narrowed, and after another moment of hesitation, she turned back to the target behind her. Sighing, she quickly approached it, pulling out the recall pendant and looking for a suitable slot. An opening right next to the headlights, each adorned with decorative bull horns, seemed to be the perfect shape, and she stuck the crystal inside. The pigeon barely had time to leap back, yanking out the pendant as well, when the chassis of the vehicle began to emit a fizzle of static. The bike seemed unaffected, while the strong scent of ozone provided fair warning. She nodded to herself, stretched her limbs, and took to the air, crashing right into a second floor window. She screeched to a halt in a room filled with more videodromes, chairs, sofas, and stools. Unlike the ground floor, however, it was filled with nearly a dozen nervous, baggy-clothed, unkempt thugs, all flailing from the shower of glass shards created by the mare’s entrance. 117 Tejuano Heights, "Silver Lights" - 8:09 PM The tremendous racket had most of the darkly clothed gangsters stumbling out of their seats, pieces of broken glass raining down on them. The ones far enough away stared dumbstruck for a few moments, exclaiming in confusion and reaching for any blunt or sharp objects nearby, while the closest ones disappeared in a shower of red before they could properly react. All eyes in the room focused on the pigeon, some widened and bloodshot, others flickering in agitated green. The crowd could only give a cry of alarm to those below by the time three of them had already gone down. The first two got deep cuts through their throats, and the third had his neck snapped where he stood, staring in shock. Shouting and the sound of hoofsteps came from below. One gangster armed himself with a chair and closed in on the masked killer, but the leg of another chair went right through his head, splattering sizzling green ichor on the nearby thugs. A series of swift, wet, occasionally crackling stomps rang out as the pigeon’s forehooves crushed through necks, brought recovering mobsters back down to the floor, and finished them off without pause. Within a matter of seconds, the barely armed thugs on the second floor had been reduced from ten to four. The masked mare crashed into the tightly clumped, shaking mob, avoiding hits from planks of wood and chain-wrapped hooves with singular flaps of her wings. Her body leaped, bent, and curved with speed and strength far beyond what the thugs offered in return. The four could not keep her in their field of view, resorting to blind swings and mindless dodging. The pigeon’s blank, matte beak delivered a headbutt to one of them, making him drop his wooden plank, which the mare took and dexterously bashed the one that attempted to rush her from behind. She then threw the last one off his hooves with a sudden flap of wings, bringing him down with the strong current, which she followed up with a quick hoof to crush his throat. Her wings swished, making fleshy noises along the way, and the two gangsters that got back up were almost gutted, left with two curved knives in their chests. The blades pierced their lungs, leaving them to cough up blood on the floor. The mare was busy stomping on the head of the one that got hit by the plank when a loud shriek came from one of the nearby doors. What remained of the half-headed thug sizzled and crackled on the floor, while his killer leaped back, anticipating an attack. It came in the form of a tall, jagged black and green form, whose echoing screech turned into a much more high-pitched and guttural one as it gained avian features, proceeding to charge at the pegasus at full speed. She had to jump out of the way several times, as the changeling appeared to suffer little from inertia, able to charge again and again without skipping a beat. By the third time they circled around the room, the changeling had gained all the traits of a griffon - a leather-bound white and brown hawk with unkempt feathers, belts criss-crossing her chest, and goggles obscuring half her face. The griffon abused her wings as well, leading the original winger murderer on a continuous chase across the corpse and debris-filled room. By the fifth lap, two more thugs showed up at the door, taking a few wild shots at the pigeon. Green smoke trailed behind the wavering, still shaping bullets, creating thin lines in the air as they barely missed their target. The noise served as distraction for the griffon, and the masked mare met her with a broken stool to the beak, breaking it as well along with the changeling’s neck, its claws still stretching forward. A moment later, the other half of the broken stool flew toward the two identical gunslingers at the door, knocking one of them over, while the other desperately tried to back away as the pegasus zig-zagged her way to him. Two crunching, slicing noises rang out as her wings descended on both of the gunners, piercing one’s chest and another’s eye socket. She finished the former off, bashing his head in with both her forehooves, and his body erupted into greenish flame, taking the leg-mounted firearm with it. By then, the racket below had grown to a cacophony, with incoherent screams and noises coming from all sides. The gunshots and sounds of violence masked the movements of the pegasus as she headed down the stairs. Halfway there, she almost bumped into a pair of Majors. Before they could react, she pulled a long, thin metal object from the first one’s bent leg before sending them both tumbling down with a powerful headbutt, almost denting the beak of her mask. She started bashing their skulls in even before inspecting the weapon, finding it to be a sturdy golf club. It then served to tear up several more thugs on either side of the brawl, as the murder of the first two caught some attention, but as two more bright red torrents sprayed the pegasus’ postal uniform, it was clear no one had time to focus on her - the chaos in the bar peaked as a storm of melee and gunfire. The pigeon leaped, bashed, stabbed, and sliced all over, blood trickling from her wet uniform all over the floor, already covered with plenty of the same liquid and its green sizzling counterpart. Some of the thugs did not even know what hit them, taking sudden, strong blows to their necks from the club and falling over, some barely turned around before a wing-wielded knife entered and left their chests, and some barely managed to fight back, but the pegasus would only charge them or leap to the side and smash their heads in before moving on. After a few more seconds of the slaughter, she broke one of the white and blue gangsters’ foreleg, dragging it out from under him with the blow. He fired off a shot from his rifle mid-fall, making a deep voice roar on the far end of the room. The white unicorn at the head of their group, who had so far been hiding behind the bar and using his telekinesis to dismember and maim the grungy Tunnel Snakes, now looked up and stared at her. The masked mare felt her wings move and quickly grabbed a darkly clothed gangster making a rush for her, shoving him between herself and the unicorn to break line of sight until she could disappear in the chaos. “Fuck this, PULL OUT, WE’RE DONE!” the unicorn shrieked at his subordinates. He nudged an exact copy of his to his side, who quickly lit his horn. This caused half of the remaining Majors’ eyes went blank and green. That was in spite of them outnumbering and outmatching the hoodlum crowd, reduced to only a few roughed-up thugs, as well as a towering minotaur. The latter finished pounding a body into a wall with one hand, his other clumsily trying to reach a thin, long knife stuck between his ribs, while the group quickly retreated back to the entrance. The pearly unicorn made his way to the front door, finding no trace of the pigeon from mere seconds ago. His head then snapped to the side as a lead pipe collided with it, cracking his horn and making the side of his skull cave in. He gave a gurgling scream, his voice carrying a distorted echo, while his body collapsed in a strong green flash, half of the Majors thugs dropping along with it. His copy and the remaining gangsters rushed out the door, only some of the unconscious changelings making it out with them, the rest left behind in the rush to get to the parking lot. While the remaining Tunnel Snakes stayed in their bar, which was barely intact and filled with bodies, the minotaur rushed outside, growling at the retreating band and pulling at his mohawk. He appeared not to register when the half dozen survivors of his establishment came under attack again, going down one by one against the masked mare, the golf club snapping at the second to last one before she tossed it away, forcing the last Tunnel Snake to the ground and smothering him with her bag until the body stopped kicking. She stood back up, legs trembling from the exertion, and breathed heavily as she stared at the carnage surrounding her. Her bad eye snapped into place as she heard a crackle of electricity, followed by the sounds of crystalline motors. Multiple squeaky whirs rang out, and the air filled with a strong smell of ozone through the broken windows. She remained still until a much more aggressive motor sputtered to life as well. Her blood-soaked forehoof reached for her front pocket, feeling up the crystal within. When the pigeon reached the parking lot through the back entrance, the massive minotaur atop the large bike had just begun to speed after the retreating gangsters. Her gallop could not hope to keep up, and she skidded to a halt, panting in place for a moment. Then, giving herself a new running start, she took to the air above the highway, empty of even nighttime traffic safe for the violent chase below. The air current pushed the dented, expressionless pigeon’s face in. Her bag flopped against her sides, and the occasional droplets of blood fell to the ground down below. She flew high to avoid being noticed by whoever was using the city-round highway, swooping down at times to make turns and keep track of her target. Despite the crystal tech-enhanced engines giving dizzying speed to the chase below, she managed to keep up. The imposing, fume-billowing two-wheeler was directly below, unable to catch up to the sleek crystallized carriages speeding away from it down the long, straight stretch of road. Finally, the masked mare angled herself for a descent and went straight for the minotaur, twisting slightly as her body hurtled toward the surface. Mere moments before contact, one of her wings lashed out, launching a curved knife in the Tunnel Snake leader’s direction before she flapped her wings to gain altitude once more. The pigeon pulled back for a moment, then carefully approached the bike again as it continued to roll down the highway, its speed turning erratic. Seeing no movement, she leaned close to the minotaur. His body lacked a curved knife sticking out of it. Instead, the blue handle of a long, thin stiletto protruded from his side, on level with his heart and covered in thick, dark minotaur blood. His upper body rested on the dashboard, gloved hands still clutching the handles, while his hind hooves pushed down on the pedals, sending the engine mixed signals. A long streak of blood covered the rear half of the bike, and she noticed strips of his blood smeared along the highway, fresh ones forming right behind the rear wheel. She carefully reached in and turned the gas handle down until the bike sputtered to a halt. Its rider had already been dead for several minutes. The pegasus stared at the corpse for a while, until the stiletto began to emit a green glow and vanished moments later. Ditzy walked around him, jittering as her bad eye returned to its usual position. Moving stiffly and rarely blinking, her breath ragged, she pulled the pendant from her front pocket and stuck it into the slot. The vehicle lit up again, but the electric security measure fizzled out as the rider’s body still made contact with the bike. The engine, which was thrumming idly, revved itself back up, a soft luminescence appearing around the handles and pedals. She watched the minotaur tumble off the bike as it accelerated and made a sharp turn, driving away by itself. It took the first turn off the highway, while the claw symbol on the pendant glowed brightly. Her breath cut off and she swiftly spun around when another engine sounded out from behind her. The sweat that had congested under her mask made a slick slurping noise as Ditzy tilted her head. Another car emerged - a much simpler carriage with lots of suitcases and duffel bags tied to its roof, all looking civilian. Its driver stepped out and stared at the bloodied, masked postal mare, who stood next to a huge, dead minotaur covered in leather and spikes. The pony was an earth stallion, a big one, with a bright white coat. He had muscular forelegs, hidden underneath a brown jacket. A handlebar moustache sat over his lips, and his nose had a slight bend in it. They looked at one another with wide eyes, mouths hanging open. His formed words she could not hear, hers collected most of the sweat her snout was covered in. Ditzy closed her eyes, wincing as the sweat burned them, and moved to closer to the stallion, breathing in deep. “Wait!” he barked at her, almost making her flinch. “I already know what you are.” That brought her to a halt. “Are you even listening? Can you listen?..” Ditzy stood mere paces from the stallion, staring at him intently with her good eye, while the other jerked in place. The stallion drew in a long sigh, briefly closing his eyes. “Okay. Hold here for a moment, I need to get my taser. You follow me? Police have arrived at the gang shootout site, stopped the fight, took the survivors in for questioning, and…” He glanced at the puddles of darkening blood on the road, and then at the minotaur it belonged to, nodding to himself with a short hum. “...and apprehended the head of the Tunnel Snakes they’ve had no luck finding for four years now. Regrettably, he died of blood loss shortly afterward. Does that… sound good? Do you understand me?” They stared at each other for a few more tense seconds, and the stallion eventually broke eye contact. He pulled a police badge out of the pocket of his jacket. The mare noticed a large red stamp across his photograph. Behind him, in his car, there was another equine shape, sinking into the cushions of the rear seats. Ditzy looked back at the stallion and nodded. “Good. I know how you feel, whoever you are under that mask. I just gotta do what's right, too.” She backed away, still facing the former officer, narrowing her eyes at him as he went back to his car and retrieved a wrist-mounted taser. With her still watching, he approached the minotaur, outstretched his leg, and fired two sparkling darts with a flick of his joint. The brutish body convulsed in place for a few moments as the voltage passed through him. The stallion then moved closer and added a kick to his ringed nose with a hind leg, making a loud cracking noise. Meanwhile, the pegasus kept staring at the other pony in the car. “She won’t say anything. Nobody will. It's not how you think anymore.” After one final glance, Ditzy finally turned away, aiming for the beach so she could change her clothes. While leaving the scene, she heard a faint mumble from the stallion as he got back into his vehicle: “Come on, the last boat is leaving. I’m done.” She hopped over the railing along the side of the highway and dove into the sea, the postal outfit and mask stuffed into her bag. *** ...arrived at the shootout site in an emergency fashion, aimed to resolve the conflict between Carol City’s increasingly desperate criminal factions. The shootout was stopped, but few survivors remained for questioning, as the majority of the gang members - thirty six out of forty four - were already dead. That included notorious anarchist and vandal Road Rage, formerly wanted in all Equestrian autonomies as well as Taurine. CCPD lieutenant Flash Bang said: “The vermin are getting pretty good at exterminating themselves. If not for the obvious danger that they continue to pose to our citizens, we could as well leave it to them to get rid of crime! This is all they have been doing for the past month.” In addition… ...Engels sees little concern for the citizens of Carol City. “It is scary to think that a block away, gang members may be brutally murdering each other, let alone that they may be hiding out in your very apartment building, which CCPD, would, obviously, have to storm. Data from April and May, however, indicates a rapid decrease in violence against non-criminal members of society. So long as everyone does their job, you will have less and less to fear by the day - unless, of course, you are a criminal.” The past three months have been… ...reminds our readers that any information as to the location and current activities of the Emergency Situation Attack Squad terrorist organization are to be submitted either to our paper or directly to chairpony Vellum of the city council. The terrorists have been showing a worrying amount of activity, recklessly causing property damage in raids on multiple locations in the southwest of Carol City. Rewards have been adjusted from… Ocean View Street - 10:17 PM Ditzy limped slightly on her exhausted legs, dragging them on the pavement and barely keeping her bag from slipping off her back. She sealed it into a cheap plastic bag to avoid leaving a trail of blood. Taking deep breaths, her nose was filled with salty air from the ocean. The water was no longer crimson, the waves having turned dark blue. Only streetlights and the neon signs of the few shops on this side of the street illuminated Ditzy's path. There was clearly no one else around, yet the slightest noise made her head shoot up. The mare paused after a while, leaning against a wall to take a deep breath. Grimacing, she then lifted a hoof to touch her temple. Her half-open eye looked at the lights ahead, then wandered to the dark waves with not a hint of the orange sunset on them. Ditzy leaned harder against the wall, letting her breath stabilize. She closed her eyes, forcing the bad one to remain shut despite its constant movement. Her breath remained calm. “Is this really working?” Ocean View Street - 10:45 PM The mare jumped to her hooves with a silent shriek, panting heavily and coughing a few times. She punched herself on the chest and slapped her cheeks as she scurried to wake. Her eyes opened wide, the good one scanning her surroundings, but the street was still empty. Ditzy opened and closed her mouth a few times, taking a while to stop panting, and she picked up the plastic-wrapped bag, the fabric shaping into the rough outline of an equine head. Holding her breath, she trotted quickly to the corner of the street. Once there, she opened the nearest door and tossed her bag inside without entering. “Same as always?” asked the unkempt blonde unicorn at the desk, her coat so ruffled it was hard to distinguish its dim purple color. The pegasus’ nod was not registered as the clerk rolled her yellow eyes and got up to collect the bag, carrying it back to the row of bulky washing machines behind the desk. Ditzy nudged the door closed behind her as she left. Once outside, she stared past a group of loud teens on the beach, her gaze lost in the darkness over the ocean. She stood like that for a few minutes, salty breezes blowing her thinning yellow mane. There were some slurred shouts tossed in her direction, but they went quiet when the mare’s one eye turned to look in response. With a deep breath, the grey pegasus entered her apartment building and went back to Dinky.