• Published 17th Jul 2013
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Public Enemies - Lucky Roll



Carrot Top's already bad day gets ruined when she discovers she accidentally robbed the Ponyville Bank. Don't you just hate it when that happens?

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Chapter One: Be Carrotful What You Wish For

PUBLIC ENEMIES

Chapter One: Be Carrotful What You Wish For

Carrot Top awoke with a grateful smile. It was nothing out of the usual: she’d awoken with a grafetul smile the day before, the day before that, the day before that, a month before that, and a year before that, too. Exactly who she was grateful to, she couldn’t say. The princesses maybe, or Mother Nature, or perhaps life itself. She didn’t know, she was simply happy to start another day, just as she was happy to start every single day. Her daily routine was less than varied: as a carrot farmer she spent most of her time tending to her garden, save for the days on which she went to the market selling them and doing her own shopping. As Ponyville had an excellent pegasus team, not even the weather could bring anything unexpected; the most surprising moments of her life were the minutes she spent exchanging a few words with the trio selling flowers, who sometimes delivered such shocking news like how their cat had indigestion, or how Lily’s aunt was going to visit the town. Regardless, Carrot Top thought as she lifted her blanket, it didn’t matter if her life wasn’t a crazy rollercoaster of adventures, right? What was important was that she was happy. Right?

She froze mid-motion as a new thought occurred to her. A thought so simple that she almost couldn’t believe she had never asked herself this.

“Why am I happy?”

As it tends to happen when one asks something aloud in an empty room, nopony answered. Like she was doing it for the first time in her life, Carrot Top looked around her bedroom uneasily. It was a prim and proper room, with a nightstand holding a candle and a single flower in a vase on it before the window, a bed next to the nightstand, a wardrobe with some work-clothes, and empty, white walls.

“Why am I happy?” she repeated, getting out of her bed and tentatively starting to pace around. “What have I accomplished? What am I doing with my life? I have no achievements. I have no goals. I have no...” she trailed off as she realized she had no idea what her life lacked. As far as existential crises went, Carrot Top’s – quite fittingly – wasn’t an overly dramatic one. “...stuff that I should have,” she finished rather uncreatively. For a few seconds she stood lamely in the middle of her bedroom, then she suddenly threw her head back. “Well, no more! No more boring Carrot Top! No more background Carrot Top! Life is so much more than growing carrots!” She subsided into silence again, then sighed. “Although... I do love carrots.” And then, as quickly as the rebellious thoughts had come, they were gone.

She turned and headed for the door. She had some carrots to pick and water.

***

A few hours of honest work later Carrot Top stood contentedly in the middle of a carrot patch with a bright red watering can in her mouth. It was moments like this that reminded her why she loved her life: the brilliant sun above warming her muzzle, the gentle, refreshing breeze rustling through her yellow coat, and even her pleasantly weary muscles were among the small things that just made life worth living. She looked up, up at the happily blue summer sky, and could just make out the shape of some beetles buzzing around.

This was why Carrot Top loved being Carrot Top. On any other day, a small smile would find its way onto her face – but this wasn’t any other day. On this day, Carrot just couldn’t stop staring at the sky, thinking.

“Well howdy there, pardner! How’s them carrots? Still worse than apples, ain’t them?”

Carrot Top tore herself out of her reverie at the sound of the familiar voice. Turning around, she found her neighbor, Applejack, standing on her hind legs and leaning on the wooden fence separating their farms, wearing a wide grin beneath her favorite Stetson. Like her brother usually did, she was chewing on a straw.

Carrot Top put the can down. “Um, no, not really. In fact, carrots are better than apples!” She hoped her retort wasn’t too sharp or vitriolic. Applejack was the closest thing Carrot Top could call a friend, and she would’ve hated to ruin the good-neighborliness or pick a quarrel.

Fortunately, Applejack didn’t seem hurt. “That’s the spirit, girl!” She winked. “Don’t let me pick at ya, y’hear me?”

“Er, it’s okay,” Carrot Top answered quickly, trotting closer to the orange mare. “No problem, really. How are you doing?”

“Jes’ fine, thanks! You?”

“Me too, thank you,” was what Carrot Top wanted to answer, but instead of that, she inadvertently blurted out a question. “Applejack, do you think what I’m doing is important? Do you think my life matters? Do you think my life is...” She made an uncertain gesture with a leg. “Do you think I’m valuable?”

Scratching her head, Applejack shoved her hat further back on her blonde mane. “Uh, where’d that come from, sugarcube?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She wasn’t expecting the question, but regardless, she wasn’t a pony to deny someone in doubt. Besides, the sheer pleading in Carrot Top’s voice made her feel a tingle on the inside. “Who told ya that your life ain’t important, Carrot?”

“No one,” Carrot Top said shakily. She hung her head, avoiding Applejack’s gaze; in all honesty, she looked rather like Winona, back then when she still hadn’t been house-trained and did something wrong. “It’s just... It’s just I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Everypony has, well, you know what I mean – they do things in their life. What do I do, Applejack? I mean, you, you too go on all sort of wacky adventures almost every week, you saved Equestria three times–”

“Four, actually, if ya’ll count that Sombra fellow,” Applejack corrected. “But believe me, that’s not what’s really important, sugarcube. Ah know this can sound a mite uppity from me, but it’s the honest truth, it is.” She leaned forward above the fence. “S’long as you don’t hurt ponies and yer happy, you’re not ‘doin’ it wrong’, Carrot. Don’t never listen to anypony who says otherwise. You’re happy, ain’t ya?”

“I... I guess I am...” Carrot Top was drawing circles in the dust with a hoof. “But I’ve never done anything really important. Actually...” She felt like being driven by an outside force as she continued, “Once, just once, I’d like to go on an adventure. You know, do something for the others to look to me. Step out of the background, so nopony could say that I’m useless. So I could prove that I’m important, just like everypony else. You understand?”

It was ridiculous. It was ridiculous, and Carrot Top knew it. But Applejack didn’t so much as smile hearing it; instead, she just shook her head. “I hear ya, Carrot, but believe me, that’s not you. You don’t hafta prove yerself for nopony, ya know. You do what you want, yer happy with it, and yer honest to boot. That’s what matters, not how many timberwolves you buck in the teeth. Don’t do nothing you wouldn’t otherwise, just ‘cause some folks can’t see what you can, Carrot.”

Carrot Top felt that Applejack was right, yet it sounded a little empty coming from somepony who had her image displayed on stained glass windows in Castle Canterlot. Carrot didn’t really know what the other ponies expected from her, but she was pretty sure they didn’t spend their lives devoted to vegetables. “You’re right, Applejack. I just thought that I could, you know, do what others do?” At this point, however, she realized that she was opening her heart to her neighbor, and while they were good neighbors, she imagined this was a bit too much.

Well, probably. She was never too keen on this whole ‘social relationships’ thing.

Besides, she also remembered that the day was one of the rare days when she actually had something to do. “Anyway, thanks for the kind words, Applejack! I have to go now, though. I have an appointment with the doctor. Annual checkup, you know?" She let out a small, nervous laugh. "Well, thanks again, I have to gallop!”

“Think nothing of it, sugarcube. Next time you have something on yer mind, ya tell me, y’hear?”

Applejack waved her hat and looked after the departing carrot farmer after they said their goodbyes. Carrot Top felt a bit happier after the chat; eh, what was she thinking? Adventures? Like, getting into high society, fighting crime, or going on a jungle expedition? Adventures were one of those things that always happened to somepony else. To Twilight maybe, star pupil of the princess, or Zecora, the mysterious denizen of the Everfree, or heck, even the Cutie Mark Crusaders, those little rascals.

But Carrot Top? No, adventures just didn’t happen to her. The whole thought was completely ridiculous.

***

“Er... excuse me? I’m here to see the doctor?” Carrot Top said, or rather, asked. She often managed to say single statements as questions.

The light blue-maned, yellow nurse behind the counter looked up from the colorful magazine she was reading and decided that Carrot didn’t suffer from anything too urgent.

“The doctor is busy at the moment. Please take a seat in the waiting area and remain there until further notice.” She returned to her magazine.

Carrot Top looked around. Sure enough, the waiting room seemed nice: light green walls, white-tiled floor, potted plants, not too uncomfortable plastic seats and a few tables with some reading material. “Uh, okay,” she said, then when she didn’t get any answers, trotted to a seat and sat down.

Ten boring minutes passed. Carrot quickly discovered that all the prepared magazines were medical, and reading them either made her sick or made her blush. As such, after doing nothing but watching the nurse for ten minutes, she mustered up her courage and went to the counter again. After all, with all the waiting, she was being late. And she really hated being late.

“Um?” she said. Little did she know that the only proper way to talk to a nurse that was doing something else was not talking to her.

The rebellious act of insolence apparently shifted the nurse’s attitude from bored to hostile. “What can I help you with!” she attacked.

Carrot Top stepped back. Being used to carrots, which were amazing, but not really prone to angry outbursts, she found herself at a loss. “It’s just that, er... maybe I could really see the doctor now?”

The nurse glared at her. “I already told you the doctor is busy. Nopony can disturb him unless they have an appointment!”

“But I do have an appointment!”

“Well why didn’t you just say so!” the nurse delivered in a typical ‘this is all your fault!’-tone. She whipped out a thick register from under the counter. “Your name?”

Carrot didn’t flinch. She was used to ponies not remembering her. “Carrot Top.”

After a needlessly long search and check for validity, the nurse found her. “There you are,” she said in a voice that might have possibly been a grade nicer than before. “Take the double door behind me, then the first door on your right. You couldn’t miss it even if you tried.”

Carrot thanked her with a smile – receiving no reaction in response – then went through the glass double doors and, despite her worries, didn’t miss the first door on her right. The sign saying “DR. STABLE” on it helped too. She knocked.

“Come in!”

As Carrot Top stepped into the doctor’s office, the first thing she noticed was Dr. Stable trying to quickly shove a chessboard out of her line of sight, with the pieces intact if possible – this wasn’t a task too difficult, given the massive paper towers piled up on his desk. The wall was lined with cupboards, medical posters and various machines, some of which looked frightening enough to make Carrot shiver. The arrangement was completed by a chair and a simple bed, but fortunately the room was big enough not to feel cramped.

“You’re ten minutes late, Miss...” Dr. Stable looked briefly at one of the papers littering his desk. He was a light amber unicorn with a brown mane and a pair of glasses, useful for glaring at Carrot over its rim after determining her name. “...Carrot Top.”

“I’m very sorry,” Carrot said. No sense in complaining about the nurse. She had probably just been doing her job.

“It’s all right,” the doctor said, falling into a professional routine. “Take a seat, please. When was the last time you had a medical check-up?”

Carrot Top sat down. “Uh, let’s see... last year? Or the year before? I’m not sure.” Her orange tail absentmindedly flickered around a little.

“You shouldn’t go such a long time without a proper health examination, you know,” Dr. Stable lectured her while inattentively collecting his repertoire of medical tools and levitating them around his head. “Now could you please open your mouth and say ‘Aaaah?’”

Although Carrot Top always felt a little uneasy when in the doctor’s office, the inspection went largely uneventful – only the blood pressure check made her look away in nervousness, but Dr. Stable seemed pleased with the results, even praising her healthy lifestyle. All in all, from listening to her lungs to checking her – obviously excellent – eyesight, it was the doctor who talked the most, with Carrot just nodding or agreeing.

“Now then, we’re almost done, Miss Top,” Dr. Stable said, levitating away the small rubber hammer he used to check Carrot’s reflexes. “Let me just do a last ECG, and you’re free to go! Remember to come back a year later at the latest, although honestly, I don’t understand why ponies can’t just visit me every month. It’s not like I bite their head off, is it?”

“An EC-what?” Carrot asked.

“It’s a heart examination. Don’t worry, it’s quick and painless.” Dr. Stable smiled. “Could you please lie on the bed with your hooves free?”

Regardless of the doctor’s words, Carrot felt a little nervous, especially when she saw the doctor levitating an odd-looking machine closer. Still, she did what she’d been told to. She usually did what she was told to.

“Let me just place these electrodes on your legs...” Dr. Stable narrated. “Don’t worry, you won’t feel anything. Red, yellow, green, black, all in place? Excellent. Now don’t say anything, please, and try not to move if possible.” Carrot Top lay as motionless as a corpse. Only her eyes flicked anxiously when the doctor pushed a button and the machine woke up, starting to beep and spitting out long streaks of paper with weird lines on them. “I’m asking this because, should your muscles tense, it could falsify the results. You see, ECG – short for electrocardiogram – is a patient-friendly method of examining the electrical changes caused by the depolarization of the...”

He trailed off. Ominous silence took the place of his words, broken only by the noises of the machine.

“...heart’s... muscles...” he finished after what seemed like minutes to Carrot Top. She couldn’t see his expression, and she didn’t dare to move her head on account of lying still, but she felt she could imagine it pretty well. He sighed. “Well, that should be enough. You can move now.”

Carrot Top sat up after the doctor removed the electrodes from her. “Well, Doctor? Am I all right?”

Dr. Stable didn’t answer immediately. He trotted to a cupboard, put the ECG machine away, and started to fuss around there without looking at her.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Miss Top,” he finally replied.

“Um, Doctor? I’m sort of already sitting. But I could go and sit on the chair instead on the bed, if you want me to.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Dr. Stable trotted behind his desk, sat down, and finally looked at Carrot Top. “Miss Top, I’m afraid I have bad news for you. I need you to be strong. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes?” she ventured. The bad feeling she had gotten since the ECG examination grew. Suddenly, she could vividly remember every horror story about fatal heart diseases that Rose, Lily and Daisy had ever told her.

The doctor levitated the paper streak with the results before him, flattened it out, and cast a last glance on it before turning back to Carrot.

“Miss Top, I’m not going to lie to you. I’m afraid I have found signs that indicate endarteritis in your heart. I’m sorry.”

Carrot Top felt like somepony who was watching black clouds gathering on the horizon, yet knows not that she should go and find cover as soon as possible. “Enda... Is... is that bad, Doctor?”

“It is, Miss. It means the tunica intima in your heart is inflamed.”

Carrot didn’t know what a ‘tunica intima’ is, but she was pretty sure inflammation in the heart is not something one would want. “And how serious is it?”

Dr. Stable looked like he was wishing to glance away, but he managed to maintain eye contact. “I’m afraid it’s lethal. I’m very sorry.”

She felt there was some kind of mistake here. “But Doctor, how is that possible? I have a healthy lifestyle. I never felt pain in my barrel or anything similar. Are you sure there’s something wrong with my heart?”

The doctor smiled. Even Carrot Top could feel it was fake. “Of course I may be mistaken. This is but a preliminary diagnosis. It is notoriously difficult to determine heart endarteritis from ECG alone; it is entirely possible that I’m wrong. I just felt it’s my ethical obligation to tell you my opinion. I should also tell you that heart endarteritis usually involves little to no chest pain in its initial stage. But in any case, I’ll forward the case to a heart specialist.”

“But Doctor...” Carrot said quietly, glancing at his cutie mark. It was a heart monitor. “...aren’t you the hospital’s heart specialist?” For this, Dr. Stable had no answer, but she could read clearly from his eyes. She took a deep breath. “I’d like you to be completely honest with me, Doctor. How much time do I have?”

The doctor took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “It’s... hard to tell. It appears that the disease is in the initial stage. We know of cases in which patients lived for as long as a month...” As long as a month?! “...But I’m afraid in most cases, two weeks is the most one could hope for. In fact, endarteritis of the heart accelerated by potent bacterial toxins can kill in twenty-four hours.”

A soft ‘Oh’ was all Carrot Top said. Oddly, the first thing that occurred to her mind was her carrots. Who would tend to them after she was be gone? Would they be all right without her? If she still had the time, she should go find somepony who could take care of them. She felt a tingle of remorse: she’d miss her carrots.

Then she shook her head. Stupid mare, she berated herself in her mind, stop thinking about your carrots! You’re going to die within one or two weeks! Don’t you understand?! Your life is over! You can start panicking right about now! Think of all you couldn’t accomplish! Think of your family, everypony who will miss you, everything you couldn’t finish, think of everything you should’ve done yet you never did!

Carrot Top was just sitting there, waiting for the weight of it all to hit her. Dr. Stable remained silent, too, apparently wanting to give her the time she needed.

So Carrot sat, sat and sat, but she still couldn’t feel the terror rising in her. In fact, the most she was feeling was a certain distant ache, the kind of ache you feel when saying goodbye to a leaving friend, with whom you always understood each other, but after everything, the time of parting has come. The kind of ache you feel when you look back at your home, knowing what a wonderful childhood you had, but after everything, the time of growing up has come. The kind of ache you feel when you glance at the photo of the one you once loved, but know that the time to move on has come.

But the panic didn’t arrive. “Thank you, Doctor,” Carrot Top finally said, when it became apparent that she wouldn’t lose control. She struggled to her hooves; her legs trembling ever so slightly.

Dr. Stable stood up too. “Miss Top, you should come with me to the Emergency Department immediately. We must validate my diagnosis without delay. Then, should my fears prove correct, we could maybe find a way to make the process of the disease slower, or at least make it less painful–”

“No.” Carrot shook her head. “No... no, thank you, Doctor. No, I’d rather leave, if possible.”

“Miss Top, I know I can’t force you to do anything, but I not only strongly suggest you seek out the ED right away, but it’s my duty as a doctor to...”

Dr. Stable trailed off. He finally understood what Carrot Top’s eyes tried to say: “Please, I don’t want to spend the last days of my life amongst dying ponies, hooked up to some machine.”

He sighed. “...as you wish, madam.” He bowed his head.

Carrot smiled. “So long, Doctor.”

***

On her way out, Carrot Top found the nurse still sitting behind the counter, reading the same magazine.

“Goodbye,” she said. It was funny how different even such a simple word could sound if you knew you’d probably never utter it to the same pony again.

The nurse turned a page. She didn’t answer.

***

Walking through the streets when you know you won’t live another year to see them is a strangely different experience. Carrot felt like she didn’t belong here, like the whole town was unreal, like all the ponies around here were nothing but blurs from a whirlwind made of dreams. She absentmindedly strode through the crowd; she wasn’t thinking, she didn’t know where she was going, she just felt empty. Even when she stepped on somepony’s hoof, she just managed a slurred ‘S’ry’ instead of her usual ‘Oh, I’m really, really sorry!’ This did make her feel a bit guilty; knowing that she was going to die soon was no reason to act as a scumbag, she told herself. After a while, she simply stopped in the middle of the street. What was the use of going anywhere, anyway?

"Carrot felt like she didn’t belong here, like the whole town was unreal..."
Art by Oliminor

“‘Scuse me,” a blue pegasus with a cloud cutie mark growled as he accidentally bumped into her. Carrot looked after him: she had no idea who he was, and likely she’d never get to know. All the ponies around here were nothing but pretty images without any importance, and yet, they all had their lives, their joys, their sorrows, their families and their stories. Likewise, Carrot felt like she was nothing to the passers-by: a confused yellow mare standing forsaken in the middle of the road. Maybe if they’d known her, they would’ve said a few kind or comforting words before continuing with their lives. Wasn’t it odd, Carrot Top thought, that Equestria – or even just Ponyville – was full of ponies, every one of them with their own stories, yet the vast majority of them would never hear them?

Suddenly, she became painfully aware of her surroundings. A pink mare with a yellow mane and a cherry cutie mark: a stranger whom Carrot would never get to know. The trees edging the street: she’d never really looked at their leaves, how the sunlit sides were weirdly brighter than the other. A bird sang on a branch: its red-white plumage looked beautiful. Wasn’t birdsong unusual? It wasn’t really good to listen to it per se, but the way it sounded was certainly outlandish. Ponies couldn’t make such noises. How did birds even do it?

A rumbling in her stomach reminded her that she still had her functional body, and it needed nutrition. It was a bizarre thought, but it was true. Carrot Top started to walk the streets again, trying to find the way to the restaurant she usually visited on the occasions when she didn’t eat at home for some reason.

As she looked around, however, a new thought occurred to her – or rather, the echo of a thought from the morning. Why go to the usual restaurant? She had never tried any others. She only had a week or two to live: as morbid as it sounded, wouldn’t it be right to do something she’d never done before? On this note, why not try something entirely new...?

A few minutes later, Carrot Top was already sitting in a restaurant. Her regular one.

“...and a carrot salad, from fresh carrots, right? The usual?” the waiter finished, having already written it down. Carrot nodded meekly. “And a glass of water for drink, I take it?”

“Um, no. No, actually, today, I’d like to try a glass of...” Carrot Top gulped. She could do it! She wasn’t a slave of conventions anymore! “...soda water.”

The waiter stared at her like he’d seen a ghost. A pony within earshot behind them dropped her half-chewed fried hays out of her mouth in sheer shock. Others’ faces contorted into the very images of stupor, daze or downright hysteria; a glass fell to the ground, and before the eyes of the ponies present, it shattered into a million pieces in slow motion, its contents reaching into every direction.

“Oh my,” Carrot Top thought, cheeks flushing, “maybe I shouldn’t have been so reckless on my first try.”

***

There was a theory about how time slowed down for objects approaching the speed of light. Or was it mass? Lyra Heartstrings faintly remembered something about gravity trapping light. No, that was probably something else. Eh, there goes a witty metaphor about time appearing to be slower as you get closer and closer to the end of your work shift.

Lyra groaned as she looked at the clock on the wall again. Twenty-six minutes remaining?! That’s impossible! Usually, the sight of the Ponyville Bank’s interior didn’t stir insanity in the staff, nor in the customers, not even from behind the counter and desk where Lyra was sitting. But she started to suspect that the effects of eldritch powers were at work. Sure, the few tables and chairs scattered around the waiting area and the cream-colored walls with the cheap paintings looked innocent enough, but they didn’t prove that no supernatural forces were functioning either, right?

She looked up again. Still twenty-four minutes? That’s downright evidence! Time shouldn’t be allowed to flow this slowly!

“What’s the matter, Lyra?” came a voice from behind the desk on her left, followed by the noise of a suppressed yawn. “Do you have nothing to do? Lazing around as usual?”

The green unicorn snorted and looked at her colleague. This time, she managed to avoid flinching at her sight: Amethyst Star, number one teller of the Ponyville Bank, looked terrible. Her frazzled, tangled two-toned violet mane strayed in all directions, her purple eyes took turns in twitching and desperately trying to get some rest, and that wasn’t mentioning the dark bags under them. Lyra reminded herself never to sleep less than two or three hours a day.

“Pfft,” she said, flippantly waving a hoof, “I’m just contemplating life, Thistle. Your mom is lazy.”

“Yes, she is,” Star answered dryly, glaring at Lyra over the mountain of paperwork she was working on, “on account of, you know, lying in the hospital, waiting for her surgery.”

“Uh, sorry." Lyra at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "I forgot about that. Hey,” she said in a rush of generosity and awkwardness, “why don’tcha give me the rest of that junk? I’ll do it for you!”

“Really? Thanks!” Lyra already regretted her offer as her co-worker pushed the gargantuan hill of papers to her desk. Usually, clerking didn’t involve this much administration, but as fifty thousand bits in cash and raw gold bars were recently deposited (property of F. Rich Zap Apple Products and Zap Apple-Themed Accessories Inc.), the amount of bureaucratic work had been kicked up a notch.

Lyra sighed. Twenty-one minutes remaining. Hopefully, she could at least go through some of the papers before she would be forced to start her – she shuddered – Friday overtime.

At least that was what she thought when she heard the double doors opening. A customer this late? And here she had already started to hope the day was over! Her eyes narrowed.

The saddlebag-wearing intruder, a pale yellow earth pony with a curly orange mane and big, nervous, green eyes, looked harmless enough. Lyra decided it would have been for the best for all concerned parties if the newcomer had gotten lost on her way. Well, maybe not for the earth pony, but hey, you can’t cook an omelet without refusing a few customers who’re taking banking hours seriously on a Friday afternoon, right?

The would-be client shifted her body weight from her right legs to her left, looking around helplessly. Both bank tellers avoided her eyes, trying their best to look as busy as could be, but they were out of their luck: after a few seconds, the interloper made up her mind and trotted up to Lyra. In all honesty, the mint green unicorn couldn’t fault her: the way Amethyst Star looked, it was possible that not even Discord himself would’ve dared to turn to her of his own free will.

Now that Lyra looked there again, she realized that Star had actually managed to fall asleep with her head on the desk. Poor thing.

“Hello? Um, I’m sorry?”

Right. She got the newcomer to deal with. “Good afternoon, Miss. I’m sorry, but it’s closing time.”

The earth pony muttered something apologetic. Well, that had been easy, Lyra thought, but to her annoyance, the customer ultimately persisted.

“I’d like to withdraw all my money and valuables from the bank, if possible.” Ears flat against her head, she looked at Lyra pleading. “I’m really, really sorry, but I need it now.”

Normally, that would summon the holy litany titled ‘Are you dissatisfied with our services, Ma’am?’ but on a Friday afternoon, fifteen minutes before closing, Lyra would’ve sooner given up a kidney than try to convince a customer. Maybe she’d get rid of her sooner if she gave in. Just do it quickly!

“Your name, please!”

“Carrot Top.”

Lyra’s horn glowed in a golden light as she broke a register open, rapidly scanning through the names. There it was, Carrot Top, owner of the deposit in safe #40.

She glanced at her paperwork. There was no way in Equestria she was going to go into the safety room and start searching for the safe while she wasn’t done with this. Well, time for Plan B...

“THISTLE!” ‘Let Thistle do it’ was always Plan B, of course. So far, Lyra had never needed to come up with Plan C (though she was pretty sure it would've been something along the lines of 'Ask Thistle again').

“Huh?” Star’s head jerked up. She blinked rapidly as she look around. “What just happened?”

“Thistle, the Miss would like to withdraw her deposit. Could you see about it?”

“Of course.” She slowly stumbled to her hooves. “Her name?”

“Carrot Top. Look for safe number forty, near the back wall.” Not that she actually knew where that safe was, but trifles like having no idea about what she was talking about never stopped Lyra Heartstrings from getting things done in record time before.

“Right.” As Amethyst Star’s figure disappeared behind the safety door leading to the vault, neither Lyra, nor Carrot heard her muttering “Let’s see, safe number fourteen, near the back wall...”

The following scene looked like a perfectly ordinary picture. Amethyst Star returned shortly, levitating a nondescript package wrapped in brown. She put it on the counter, signed some papers, asked Carrot Top to sign some of them too, then levitated the bundle into the yellow pony’s saddlebags. After this, they said their goodbyes, and Carrot left the building.

It should’ve never happened. Star should’ve checked to see if she’d been giving out the right packet. She should’ve read the warrants carefully. Carrot Top should’ve felt that the bag was heavier than it should’ve been.

But Amethyst Star was fighting off sleep deprivation while lingering on the border of physical exhaustion, and Carrot (quite understandably) had a lot on her mind. And so started the misunderstanding that would turn Carrot Top’s life upside down.

***

Before Carrot opened the simple green door of her house, she cast a last glance at her vegetable garden. She’d half-hoped to meet Applejack again, but it seemed like the apple farmer was busy, and could anypony blame her? Managing a farm as big as hers took a lot of effort, and taking advantage of her helpful nature wouldn’t be very kind, Carrot thought.

But no sense in crying over what she didn’t have, right? Stepping into her house, she headed to the couch, unstrapping and gently putting her saddlebags down. The only question that remained – quite literally, the only remaining question in her life – was what to do with the remaining days while she was still in shape to do anything at all. Spending them amongst her carrots sounded strangely comforting, but then again, maybe she should visit her family. After all, blood is thicker than water, and it had almost been a year since she last met with Ma Carrot and her siblings...

Head tilted, she looked at the saddlebags. In them, there should be her meager life savings, a few cheap pieces of carrot-themed jewelry, including a brass brooch which she never liked, but which looked very good on her according to her mother, and the deeds to her farm.

She opened the bags, took the brown packet out, and unfolded the wraps. Inside, there was no trace of her life savings, the number of brass brooches present were alarmingly low, and there was a shocking absence of any deeds to her farm.

There were, however, fifty thousand bits in cash and raw gold bars inside.

***

They say there’s a limit to how much surprise any one pony can tolerate. After a certain threshold of overflowing emotions, one just stops caring. This is analogous to a fuse: if you discover that your wife has been a changeling all along, and Princess Celestia is in your fridge, eating your dinner, you just won’t bat an eyelash when you’re informed that the Wonderbolts decided that adding your cat to their team is their smartest move to date. Your brain refuses to comprehend and blows the fuse if you will, to avoid overload.

Seeing Carrot Top frantically galloping through the streets of Ponyville not even ten minutes later, it was safe to say that somehow, she hadn’t reached that threshold quite yet. It wasn’t easy to dash through the streets while keeping an eye out for anypony that could help, but Carrot did her best, attracting no small attention. For the first time in her life, she didn’t care about it, running forward, driven by her saddlebag’s touch, which felt like a branding iron burning into her coat. “Look,” she thought, dodging a fruit cart, “the bank is probably already closed for the weekend. But you can still fix this. You just have to find a reasonable authority figure and explain them what happened. You can do it!”

A sudden yell interrupted her train of thoughts. “LOOK, I TOLD YOU I WAS SORRY, OKAY?”

Normally, Carrot Top was the kind of pony who, when hearing somepony shouting on the street, quickly crossed it and went to the other side, trying hard not to acknowledge the scene. But now, as she snapped her head up, she recognized just the pony she needed. Rearing on her back legs, the mint green unicorn from the bank stood against the closed entrance of a simple, white, two-storey wooden house, wildly beating the poor door. “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! LET ME IN, BONNIE!” she yelled, tail threshing around in frustration.

Carrot brake to a sudden halt, but before she could approach her target, another, somewhat muffled, but no less loud shout arrived from behind the door. “THAT’S ‘MISS BON’ TO YOU, AND WE’RE STILL NOT ON SPEAKING TERMS!”

Carrot Top stepped beside Lyra and cleared her throat. This didn’t bother the unicorn the slightest. “THOSE FROGS WERE ALREADY ON FIRE WHEN I ARRIVED, I SWEAR!”

“Excuse me? Miss? There’s something I should really–”

“OH?! AND HOW DID THEY GET INTO MY BED THE FIRST PLACE?”

“I’m really sorry to interrupt, but this is very–”

“LOOK, MISTAKES WERE MADE ON BOTH SIDES, ALL RIGHT?”

“If you could just listen to me for a moment–”

“THAT EXCUSE WOULD WORK BETTER IF THIS WASN'T THE THIRD TIME, LYRA!”

Even the nicest girls have their breaking points, and Carrot Top just had enough. She took a deep breath, and prodded Lyra in the ribs. Softly first, then, when the green mare failed to show any interest, a little harder.

“IT WAS SCIENCE! YOU WOULD NEVER UNDERSTAND!” Lyra yelled, then turned to Carrot leisurely. “Yes? What’s up, pal?”

Grateful for the attention, Carrot’s words flooded out. “Look, Miss, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding! You work in the bank, right? This afternoon I visited you to withdraw my savings, but somehow I was given this... this!” She tore the saddlebag open. The shine gleaming from its contents illuminated both hers and Lyra’s face in a golden light.

Lyra’s no less golden eyes widened at the sight. “Sweet Celestia!” She whistled. “That’s gotta be–”

“ARE YOU CALLING ME DUMB?!”

Oh, right. Nopony had informed Bon Bon about what was happening in front of the door. “YOU ARE NOT DUMB, YOU ARE JUST INTELLIGENTLY IMPAIRED!” Lyra yelled back, then turned to Carrot again. “Whoa, that’s some first class mess you could’ve gotten yourself into! You sure you didn't pocket some of that, huh?” She winked, grinning.

Carrot shivered. “I would never do such a thing! I’m a honest pony, not–”

“OH, THAT’S IT! YOU’RE IN BIG TROUBLE NOW, MISSY!”

“DO YOUR WORST, BONNIE! I’M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!” Lyra snorted. “Anyway, buddy, we can still clean this up. The bank is closed for the weekend, but I’m pretty sure we can go to the boss and tell him what happened. Well, of course, since I mishandled the transaction...” She trailed off, her smile slowly melting off. “Wait a minute, I remember you! You were the gal who came in the last minute before closing! Mare, that was rough, y’know? Your name was... Uh, it was...”

“Carrot–”

“NO MORE SWEETS FOR YOU FOR A MONTH! THAT’LL TEACH YOU!”

“–Top.”

“I REGRET NOTHING! I’M GIVING THEM UP FOR SCIENCE! ...Pleased ta meet’cha, Topsie. Lyra Heartstrings.”

Though Carrot felt formalities were a bit absurd at this point, they shook hooves. “Glad to know you, Miss Heartstrings.”

The unicorn made only a token effort to cover her snicker. “Oh, please, just Lyra! Everypony calls me that.”

“Uh, okay, Miss Just Lyra.”

“Almost there, only a lil’ more unjust.”

Lyra stood still for a few seconds, waiting for Bon Bon, but the mare decided to sink into indignant silence. Well, all the easier for her to smoothen this mess out. “Right. Now, normally, I would just go to the boss’ house with you, but here’s the problem...” She sighed and raised a leg to massage her right temple. “It was Thistle who gave the wrong package to you, wasn’t it? And she was the one who signed it, right?”

Carrot Top looked away and kicked a rock as she tried her best to remember. “I-I guess...? It wasn’t you, it was your purple friend.”

Lyra grimaced. “Just what I was afraid of. You see, the pony who mishandled fifty thousands bits will certainly get fired. Now I, for one, wouldn’t mind it too much – this banking gig is way too boring for me, anyway – but Thistle really needs the job. She’s already working in three jobs; after banking she goes to the cupcake factory if memory serves, and she does something in the night, too. Thing is, her mother recently got plastered – I mean, suffered a flying accident, and she needs money for the surgery.” With every word, Carrot’s eyes grew wider and wider, and Lyra could’ve sworn she saw a bit of mist in them. She bit her lower lip. “Also, with her mother out of the picture, now she alone has to earn enough to support herself and her little sister. I don’t envy the poor girl, not a bit. She’ll get fired – if she’s lucky, that is. If she isn’t, then it’s jail time for her.”

“But that’s terrible!” Carrot shivered. “If I bring back the money, I’m ruining her life! And if I don’t, I become a thief!”

The green unicorn looked down. She didn’t answer immediately, but when she did...

“Weeeell...” She raised her gaze back to Carrot. “Maybe there is one way...” A grin slowly started to form on her lips. “You see, if I was, hypothetically, leaving town and not showing up in the bank on Monday, with the money missing from the safe, what would everypony think?”

Carrot blinked. “That... you stole it?” she ventured.

“Eee-xactly. Obviously the temptation was too much for the greedy Lyra Heartstrings, who made off with the loot. What a shame, but there was nothing Thistle could do about it! See?” Lyra beamed. “This way, we can defend her honor and job for the low, low price of us – or, more accurately, me – becoming Equestria’s most wanted criminal! What a bargain!” she shouted with enthusiasm. “I’ll take two, thanks!”

“But...” Carrot Top found wrapping her mind around all this surprisingly difficult. “I understand that they’d think you stole the money. But what will actually happen to it?”

That was the point when Lyra’s grin became downright maniac. “Well, Topsie, if I’m gonna spend a few decades in the cold for this, I can at least commit the crime I’ll be charged with, can’t I?”

Carrot Top took a careful step back. “I, uh, I’m not sure if this really is ethical.I mean, not to sound rude, but aren’t you really stealing fifty thousand bits if you do that?”

“Well, if you want to be technical about it, then probably yes.” Lyra shrugged. “Feel free to come up with a better idea or get Thistle fired. Or steal the money yourself, though in this case she'll still lose her job. On the plus side, I’d keep mine.”

Carrot glanced around, taking a look at the ponies walking on the streets. None of them paid any particular interest to them: it looked like they were used to the sight of Lyra yelling before her door. “Er, could you keep it down a little, please? I don’t want anypony to hear us!”

“That’s the spirit!” The unicorn elbowed Carrot in the ribs with a disturbingly non-equinoid move. “Already in a conspiratorial mood, aren’t we? I knew you had it in you! And ponies say I’m crazy for my tinfoil theories!”

“Tinfoil...?”

“Not important. Hey,” Lyra said, driven from a sudden idea, “you look like a decent gal. You wanna partner up with me? Fifty thousand is a lot of booty; it’s more than enough for the two of us. And after all, the whole gig would be impossible without you, so... What do you say?” She extended a hoof. “Deal? Act fast, the offer is time-limited!”

Carrot Top furrowed her eyebrows and frowned. This expression of dissatisfaction was as far as she’d ever gotten. “Well, thank you, for the offer, I mean. Er, don’t take this the wrong way, but we don’t really know each other, so I’m not sure if this would actually be a good idea. It’s not that I don’t trust you or anything – well, now that I think about it, you’re a complete stranger suggesting that I steal fifty thousand bits...”

“Oh, come on!” Lyra quickly sidled next to Carrot and threw a foreleg around her shoulder. “Just think about it! With this money, we can go wherever we want, do whatever we want!” She gestured widely with her other foreleg, nearly falling on her face in the process. “Just think about all the fun we can have! We’re bound to have some reeaally crazy times before we’ll ultimately get caught and thrown into the dungeons for who knows how many years of remorse, tears and malnutrition, like the criminal scum we are! But hey, you wanna do some livin’ before you die, don’t you?”

Living a little before she died? Carrot shuddered at the words. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d wanted not long ago?

But then she remembered her condition. “Oh, no, I can’t accompany you, Lyra. I don’t have time for this. You see...” Quickly and directly, without any drama, Carrot Top recounted what happened at the doctor’s and how she wouldn’t live long enough to travel alongside Lyra in whatever insanity she planned.

Now Carrot, she was a nice gal. Always kind, always polite, not petulant and never holding grudges – but even she couldn’t help but felt a little wounded. Although admittedly it wasn’t a common scenario, she was still pretty sure that the appropriate reaction for somepony telling she was going to die in a couple of weeks was definitely not an ever-widening display of the pearly whites.

“Seriously?” Lyra squeaked, beaming from ear to ear. “You’re gonna die within a month? Pal, that’s awesome!

“Well,” Carrot Top answered with some traces of hurt in her voice, “I don’t think it’s that awesome. I’m sorry, but you’re being a little rude now. Though I’m glad at least you’re happy,” she added, trying her hoof at sarcasm.

Seeing how Lyra’s grin didn’t wilt the slightest, the attempt was considered less than successful. “No! Don’t you get it? That’s the perfect opportunity! Look, if you’re going to die soon, then nopony can call you to account! You can be all, like, ‘Oh, you think you got me now, officer? We’ll see about that!’ and then bam, you suddenly die in their hooves! Just imagine the stupid look on their faces! Comedy gold, mare. Comedy gold.” Carrot Top wasn’t sure the scene allured her all that much, but Lyra didn’t give her time to voice her doubts. “Well, of course, you’ll likely die before we get caught. But if not, I can say I forced you to come with me at hornpoint or something.” The unicorn waved a hoof with the liberality of geniuses. “We’ll come up with some story. I’m good at improvisations, you know. Anyway, you have the money, you have the opportunity, and you have none of the consequences! Now this is going to be fun! Well, except for your imminent death, I guess. Sorry ‘bout that, pal.”

The whole plan sounded like an insane plot from some crazed B-category adventure movie – adventure movie. Wasn’t this all Carrot Top wanted to try? Fate offered her the chance on a silver plate, and all she had to do was reach out for it. She had literally nothing to lose. There were two ways before her: either accept this stranger’s offer and fulfill her dreams, or give the money back to the bank, ruining the life of Thistle, her mother, and her little sister. Indeed, Carrot Top was a nice gal, and the thought of becoming a criminal didn’t appeal to her the slightest, but comparing it to the other alternative...

“So, um, you said there would be royal guards involved?”

Lyra’s grin glinted. “I promised fun, didn’t I?”

Carrot looked around. She still couldn’t believe she was doing it. She felt like somepony else was mouthing her words, “Well then, I guess... I guess it’s not so bad–”

“Splendid!” Lyra bounced. “We’re gonna be the most ethical thieves ever! Meet me here in, say, exactly two hours. We have no time to waste, but take the cash and buy a few trinkets for yourself. Go buy a dress or something, money is no object! In the meantime, I’m gonna get some last-minute tickets for us. Don’t bring luggage, with this kind of money, you won’t need anything!”

“Luggage?” Carrot Top echoed. “Tickets? Can you go on a journey just like this? What about your family?”

Lyra huffed. “Eh, all my folks live in Canterlot anyway.”

“Your friends?”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Lyra said cheerfully. She turned towards the door. “BONNIE, I’M GOING ON A HOLIDAY! IF ANYPONY CALLS IN, I’M OUT OF THE TOWN FOR A MONTH AT LEAST!”

“FINE! SEE IF I CARE! I DON’T NEED YOU ANYWAY!”

“Aaand there, all done!” the unicorn said, winking at Carrot. “Now, any other questions? Time is of the essence, Topsie!”

“But... but...” Carrot felt like a lone flower trying to withstand a hurricane. “Where are we even going?”

A few stray hairs springed outward from Lyra’s green-white mane with an audible metallic ting. “...I have no idea!”

***

“Comiii-iing!” Rarity singsonged. “Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique and magnifique! My name is Rarity, and I’m here to make sure that you won’t leave without finding the perfect dress you need and desire, no matter the occasion or style you choose.” Finishing her verse, Rarity took a better look at her newest customer. Judging by the yellow mare’s cautious glances to left and right, the unicorn guessed this was the first occasion of her visiting such a fabulous shop. Well, there’s a first time for everything, right? “What can I help you with, Miss...?”

“Carrot. Carrot Top.” Carrot finally tore her eyes away from the white ponyquins lining the walls; she couldn’t help but sense that they were eyelessly watching her. Otherwise, the building seemed nice; although the frilly, pink and yellow drapes felt a little excessive to her, the various harmonizing shades of mauve that prevailed inside had a strangely calming effect. So far, Carrot had only seen Carousel Boutique from the outside, but now that she stepped in, she was rather sure that whomever chose its colors had known what she’d been doing. "I would like to buy a dress, if that’s possible.”

“Well you came to the right place, Miss Top!” Rarity batted a few carefully curled fake eyelashes and stepped closer. “Do you have any ideas for a starting point, or would you require some assistance in choosing what fits you the best?”

“Er, what you think is the best is okay,” Carrot Top answered, silently wishing she’d had more experience buying dresses. But what could one do who’d never bought any clothes, apart for work? “Although I’m somewhat in a hurry. Can we maybe take a look at the ready-made ones, whichever you suggest?”

Rarity’s eyes shone like a royal guard’s at the sound of the bugle call, and the next thing Carrot knew she was being pushed eagerly onto a cream-colored wooden platform, surrounded by three pony-tall mirrors on one side and a violet, flower-patterned draught-screen on the other (even though there were nopony in the building but them).

“Don’t move an inch, Miss!” Rarity’s voice was a mix between a commanding sergeant’s and a giddy schoolfilly’s. “I have just the thing!” Her horn glowed in a faint light, and Carrot Top saw a fire-red dress levitating towards her. The wooden stage creaked slightly as she changed her position to look at it; before she could observe it more, however, Rarity’s telekinetic grip gently pulled it out of her field of vision, and the fashionista began to do what she did the best. “Now believe me, Miss Top, you simply won’t recognize yourself when you first glance in the mirror. Let me just fasten this,” Carrot Top felt her ribs crushing. “...and tighten this strap,” Carrot said goodbye to her lungs. “...pin this on, and voilá! What do you think?

With a dramatic –yet needless – move, Rarity drew the draught-screen aside. Carrot Top stared into the mirror: never before had she seen anything similar. The bright red silken material smoothly followed her curves, faithfully covering, yet somehow intimating. Back at her hind legs, the dress gradually turned into a pleated skirt, gently falling below. Carrot’s mouth formed an O; the dress was beyond ‘pretty,’ her strongest praise.

“I... I think it’s really–”

“Red?!” Rarity gasped suddenly, loudly enough to give Carrot Top a jump. “Fiery red?! What were you thinking, Rarity? Oh, no, this won’t do. This won’t do at all!” she announced, eyes wide. Heedless of Carrot’s meek protests, she immediately levitated the dress away. “Really, Rarity, I’m disappointed in you. What kind of designer gives red to a young mare with such a lustrous orange mane?” she chided herself, but Carrot could already hear the new hit of inspiration in her voice. “Now where did I put that darling little piece with the sapphires on the hem...?”

One white, one purple and two blue dresses later Carrot Top and Rarity reached an agreement – or rather, Rarity reached an agreement with herself. Sure enough, her current costume, a grass green dress with golden trimmings and a clever cut, which lent it an overall wavy appearance, looked really good, Carrot admitted, but she still had a nagging feeling that maybe she herself should’ve had a say in what she’d wanted to purchase. Still, the designer probably knew it better, and the piece looked pretty. Very pretty.

“...the way you move, not to mention that this green really fits your eyes, darling. Yes,” Rarity finished her recital with a content smirk, “I think we do have something here, don’t we?”

“I like it,” Carrot Top said, lifting a green-clad hoof and observing it with a happy smile. “How much does it cost?”

Most artists and idealists have moments in their life when reality knocks on the door and makes a short work of the proverbial ‘zone’. Rarity was, unfortunately, no exception.

During their whole conversation, she had the feeling that she knew this pony: as one of Ponyville’s number one centers of gossip, it was expected from her, but only now did she realize that this pony was a farmer, and probably Applejack’s neighbor at that. She silently cursed herself not recognizing her earlier, but she just looked so... average. Well, not anymore, Rarity thought proudly. She had the talent to bring out anypony’s force of personality, that was for sure. Still, this didn’t change the fact that a simple carrot farmer would never be able to afford this dress.

Rarity glanced at Carrot again: she just looked so happy, and besides, that dress fit her so perfectly – it would be a downright crime selling it to somepony else...

She took a light step to her right, just far enough to hide a sign clearly saying ‘149 B’.

“Why, it’s a mere fifty bits,” she said, combing through her mane with a hoof. “But you don’t have to pay it all at once,” she added quickly. “I’m positively sure we can work out some kind of hire-purchase plan...”

“That won’t be necessary,” Carrot Top answered serenely, opening her saddlebags. “I can pay in cash. Actually, I’d like to buy two, if possible. Also, er, do you have a hat that goes with them...?”

Rarity’s jaw hit the floor.

***

A quickened visit to the jeweler and the spa sisters later, Carrot Top stood on the main street of Ponyville, staring at her reflection in a shop’s display window. The pony looking back was nothing like her.

On her head there was something that, in a broad sense of the word, could be qualified as a ‘hat’, but, at least in Carrot’s opinion, it looked more like a mixed dish. There was nothing wrong with the hat itself – well, maybe the brim was a tad too wide – neither with the pink-golden ribbon tied around it, but the sheer amount of various fruits, flowers and leaves that rested on the headgear might have been a little too much. Then again, somehow, despite all the reasons that pointed to the opposite, the hat did not look ridiculous; instead, together with the dress, it lent Carrot an elegant, dignified, charming and even ladylike look. Rarity was far from being perfect as a pony, but no one could deny her skill when it came to fashion. The thick pearl necklace, which was worth more than she’d earned in a month, only added to the effect.

Carrot Top’s gaze wandered above. Although she hadn’t asked for a full treatment, the spa sisters had done wonders on her mane; gone were the natural, unruly curls of her mane, replaced with locks gently falling down, covering her left eye, only curling forward in unison below her chin. Their orange color remained the same, but, thanks to some clever treatment and all-natural ointments containing thirteen different herbal agents, it now had a strange new luster, reflecting the afternoon sun’s light ever so softly. Her tail was similarly prepared, and a slight, barely noticeable shade of purple eyeshadow completed the picture; Aloe suggested dark red, but even Carrot Top drew the line somewhere.

She raised a tentative hoof and the pony in the glass window did the same. She was pretty, yes, she looked elegant and refined, true, with a sprinkle of... a sprinkle of something Carrot Top couldn’t quite name, and was sure she never had it in her before. It was by no means obtrusive or obnoxious, and yet... she wasn’t sure she liked the new Carrot. Yes, she used to be gray and average, but this new look? Maybe it just wasn’t her.

She was getting to this point when a sharp whistle distracted her. Glancing to her right, she saw two young stallions standing in the middle of the road, looking at her.

“Hey there, hot stuff!” the red one called out with a grin and a wave. “Are you free this evening? Why don’t you let me take you to dinner tonight?”

“Sshhh! What are you doing, idiot!” His friend began to push the red pony away before Carrot Top could answer. “Can’t you see she’s obviously out of your league? You don’t want enemies in Canterlot, do you?!” He shot an apologetic smile to Carrot. “I’m terribly sorry, Milady! My friend here is obviously drunk. He certainly didn’t want to offend you!”

Before she could say anything, the two stallions disappeared around a corner. Carrot looked back at her reflection. Hm. She’d never realized she was this young and pretty. Maybe this hadn’t been such a bad idea after all! She tilted her head and batted her eyelashes. She pushed her lips together and puckered, then smiled and winked at her reflection. (She winked back.)

“Hey there, hot stuff...” she muttered, before realizing what she was doing and promptly proceeded to blush furiously.

“Well, I have nothing to be embarrassed for!” she thought. Still blushing, she defiantly cocked up her head. “I’m Carrot Top, I’m pretty, and I’m high society! And anypony who has a problem with that can just leave!”

With a final ‘hmph’, she turned tail and left, head held high. She had an appointment to keep, and, as we all know, true ladies are never late. True ladies, like Carrot Top.

And in a worst case scenario, she still had a significant advantage over anypony when saying ‘I’ll eat my hat!’

***

“I mean, Doc, can’t you just sign the paper and write that I’m cool without all this examination stuff?”

Dr. Stable groaned and regretted he’d chosen the afternoon shift instead of visiting his favorite chess club.

“Rainbow Dash,” he said, giving her that certain kind of over-the-glasses look and expression that doctors use to make it clear who the expert was, “I’m afraid compromising my honor, respect and trustworthiness both as a doctor and a gentlecolt just because you’re too impatient to lie down for thirty seconds is neither ethical nor acceptable.”

“Oh, come on!” Rainbow Dash, who was hovering above the bed in the doctor’s office, threw her forelegs in the air. “Do you really think my heart isn’t perfect? I mean, I spend all my time in the air. I have a healthy life: I fly all day, I do outdoor sports, I eat a lotta junk food–”

“Junk food isn’t healthy, you know.”

“What I’m getting at is that I’m fine! I’m better than okay!” Dash flexed her right biceps, looking at it with a look usually reserved for a mother’s first foal. “I feel like a bomb, Doc!”

“...Ready to blow at any moment?” he mumbled under his breath, then raised his voice. “I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash, but my moral obligations demand that I perform the ECG. I’m sure you understand. Now would you please lie down on the bed with your legs free?”

“Fine! Hope you’re happy now,” she muttered grumpily and descended onto the bed. “Just don’t touch my hooves, okay? I don’t like ponies doing that.”

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Stable said, levitating the ECG machine out of the cupboard. “I’ll put the electrodes a little higher. Now don’t move or speak, please. That could influence the results.” He turned the machine on: whirring, beeping, and the sputter of paper streaks began. “Don’t worry, it won’t take long. I’ll only need a few...” For the second time that day, he trailed off while looking at heart results. That was two more than ideal.

Rainbow glanced at the doctor’s expression. She found ‘puzzled’ the best word that could describe it. “Hey, Doc, what’s the matter? I’m cool, aren’t I?”

“Please don’t talk during ECG,” Dr. Stable answered automatically, but his mind roamed far away.

“What is happening here?” the doctor wondered. Sure, it was technically possible to have two patients with the exact same rare heart disease, but it was too unlikely to take it as face value. Maybe there was some sort of overly specific epidemic? No, Dr. Stable thought scratching his chin, he needed a thorough going-over concerning this whole–

“What in the wide world of Equestria?!” he yelled as the shape of ECG gradually changed. “You... you have no Q-wave? How is that even possible?!”

“Huh?” Dash asked. “Did I set a new record? I can do a sonic rainboom too, you know!” she said. She looked pleased with herself.

“No!” Dr. Stable needed all his willpower not to start shouting. “This isn’t... this shouldn’t be medically poss–”

He was interrupted by a long, loud, unceasing bleep. Before his very eyes, the ECG’s line flattened into a single constant horizontal line.

For a long time, there was nothing but silence. Dr. Stable stared at the results; Dash was busy counting the tiles on the ceiling.

“Rainbow Dash,” said the doctor finally, “I’m your doctor, and as such, doctor-patient privilege binds me. What you’re about to tell me will never get out of this room, but I want you to be completely honest with me. Are you... are you a zombie?”

The blue pegasus shrugged. “I dunno, you’re supposed to be the expert. But hey,” she said, pointing on a flashing red light on the machine, next to a stylized unicorn horn, “is this stuff supposed to be blinking?”

Great epiphanies are often followed by an “Eureka.” The doctor didn’t say anything similar; in fact, if Dash had been listening closely, she might have only been able to make out a faint ‘I shouldn’t have appointed Redheart with recharging the magical energy of the machine. I always forget she doesn’t have a horn!’

“All right,” he said aloud. Not wasting a moment, he telekinetically pulled his coat on him with such a force that it almost toppled the rack over. “I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash, but I immediately have to seek out a patient. It’s an emergency, I’ll be back as soon as possible. Dear Celestia,” he added, saying to himself, “I hope she’s home. But eh, how far could she possibly have gone...?”


Little did he know that in that very moment, Carrot Top and Lyra were standing aboard a ship heading straight towards Acapulcolt.

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER TWO: NOT TOO OLD FOR THIS SHIP

Author's Note:

DISCLAIMER: I gathered the following facts by using Google or asking doctors (mostly the latter) – as such, take everything with a grain of salt, for I cannot guarantee its validity. People not interested in medical hubbabubba should skip it entirely.


Now then, I feel it's important to mention that the portrayal of cardiac endarteritis is not exactly medically accurate in the fic. Endarteritis can be caused by different reasons, and all of them have different results. For example, a bacterial endarteritis which invades the heart is an extremely serious condition: as Dr. Stable said, it can easily kill within 24 hours, and it's practically impossible to live two weeks with it, let alone a full month. Meanwhile, if your endarteritis is caused by autoimmune response, you can possibly live for even a couple of years. Keep in mind that I'm speaking about the heart's endarteritis'; if you have endarteritis in a crural vein, for example, it is obviously far less dangerous.


About the symptoms: Dr. Stable is right about endarteritis not necessarily causing chest pains (for a certain time at least): you can live with cardiac endarteritis for months without suspecting the problem. Again, this depends on the kind of enderteritis.


Furthermore, it's not common, but theoretically possible to diagnose the presence of endarteritis from an ECG result (especially if being a heart specialist is your cutie mark, I guess), though not the cause. Note that Dr. Stable doesn't state clearly the reason of the disease, and also he does want to go and validate his diagnosis. (Not that it really matters, since, as most of you probably realized, the ECG-result was corrupted by the machine running low on magical energy.)


Apropos, I'm pretty sure real life ECG-machines running low on charge don't falsify results in such a specific way, but hey, this was no electricity, this was magic. Convenient.


EDIT: Regarding the eyesight-checking scene, I was told the "carrot eyesight" was just a myth. While it's certainly untrue in the way it was originally propagated (namely, that carrots will sharpen your vision and make you see in the dark better), the belief is actually not entirely groundless. Carrots are a rich source of beta-carotene, which serves as a precursor for vitamin A, the lack of which leads to sight deterioration and ultimately blindness – a very real problem in today's world. Furthermore, it's also important to mention that carrots contain lutein as well, a pigment that's also present in the human retina. Lutein intake helps lowering the risk of macular degeneration and cataract (the latter, according to the WHO, causes almost half of all accounts of blindness and visual impairment). So, while they do not make your vision actually more sharp, carrots indeed play an important role in eye health, and therefore I feel saying Carrot Top's vision was excellent for "obvious" reasons is justified. Do note, however, that all of the above applies to humans, and I don't take any responsibility concerning horse or pony eye health protection. Many thanks to Equestria Daily Pre-reader Amacita for pointing out this potentially confusing part!



Also, I'd like to express my thanks to the following people, in no particular order:
-Rejtő Jenő, for inspiration. In the beginning, I just wanted to write a 1:1 ponification of one of his stories, but as I headed forward with the story, it deviated more and more from the original, to the point where I think it's not really a crossover.
-Best Seller (aka Aragón on FIMFic), who acted as a brainstorming partner / pre-proofreader / cover image artist / generally horrible judge of eyeshadows. Without him constantly kicking me, I'd probably abandoned the project after a few thousand words.
-Oliminor, who illustrated the chapter. Kudos to him for putting up with me requesting lots of re-drawing and different versions! He also helped with the coloring of the cover image.
-My valiant proofreaders, Salacar and JohnPerry. Without their chivalrous courage in the face of the abomination called 'my original draft', you'd probably crawl your eyes out if you tried to read this story.
-And last but not least, you, for deeming my fic worthy of your time! I'm truly honored.

Comments ( 13 )

This is brilliant! Definitely tracking.

Enjoyable, if a bit clichèd. It isn't a bad thing, though. I'll be tracking this one.

Also, strided should be strode.

You're a genius and have earned this fave with the premise alone. The fact that WAS GOOD, is sugar on the dumpling.

Bravo and write more. :ajsmug:

2892636

A twinge, myah, but it has room to get more interesting still. At least it did what it did well.

2892473
Thank you, kind Sir!

2892636
Thanks! Fixed. Also, truth to be told, I love a well-delivered cliché. Call it a guilty pleasure.

2892896
Thanks to you, too! :twilightsmile:

2924433 2892896 I agree completely, this is cliché done correctly. Also, as was stated, it has time to grow and expand, yet even if it meets every single cliché in this story type, it'll be enjoyable because of the enjoyable writing style. :pinkiesmile: That said, it is only a little clichéd, not a lot. And my biggest guilty pleasure since Who Rules? :pinkiecrazy:

i never thought I'd get the chance to say this, possibly the best sentence in history: Lyra is Zaphod Beeblebrox. Honestly, her behavior here is more what I'd expect from Vinyl Scratch, but either way it makes for a really entertaining read, and I can't wait for the next chapter.

Loving this insight into the psychology of a professional background character. Happy to be boring. Awesome.:twistnerd:

Kinda figured there'd be something wrong with the machine, and I'm always a little disappointed by anyone who doesn't get fatal conditions double-checked.:ajbemused: It's like a dire version of Max Keeble's Big Move. Don't want to get surprised by not dying, and have to dig out of your bottomless pit of shenanigans. Keeble still owes that teacher a 12,000 word essay.:twilightoops:

Just discovered this thanks to EQD.
Cannot wait to see what shenanigans Lyra and Carrot Top (née Golden Harvest) get themselves into...

This story is not cancelled is it? :pinkiesad2:

3947385

Nah, don't worry. If the author tries to cancel it, I'll kick his ass so hard I'll get three new chapters outta him. It's just that it's been paused for a while, but now it should continue.


3946924

Huh. I hadn't thought of that comparison. Although I wonder if Lucky Roll knows anything about Hitchhiker...

Existential nihilism. That looks fun.

Finish this! It's awesome! Exclamation points!!!!!!!!! Yeah!!!!

Oh man, this story is great! I wonder when it will be upd-

CANCELLED?! :raritydespair:

Oh well. At least what's here is good.

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