Meeting 'Father'

by Golden Paw

Chapter Six.

Chapter Six.

“Screwy are you sure this is a good idea? I mean he’s gotten a lawyer and everything,” Dustpan was fidgeting as he glanced about the food court.

Screwball and Dustpan waited outside the “Tasty Tulip”, a popular eatery for Canterlot’s working class. The pair shared the space with a number of other ponies, all seated on garishly coloured rounded seats and tables. The sun was warm in the sky, but this didn’t stop Dustpan’s trembling as he sipped his drink under the bright pink and yellow umbrella covering their table.

“I told you Dusty, I have a plan,” Screwball responded with confidence.

“One that you still won’t tell me,” Dustpan snapped back, casting glances around the crowded seating area. It was peak time; ponies were coming, going and the pair sat right in the middle of the action.

Screwball rolled her eyes, “Of course not silly, that would spoil the surprise,” she paused for a moment deep in thought, “Plus you would have said no.”

Dustpan choked on his drink before recovering enough to exclaim, “Okay that’s it I’m out of here.”

“Too late,” Screwball said sweetly, pointing to their quarry.

Dustpan followed the indicating hoof and to his despair saw Tip-bit along with two other stallions. As the trio approached he had time to take in Tip’s companions: One was a spindly grey specimen, with a slicked back black mane and a conservative tie.

The Second was a brute of a pony, dark brown and built like a workhorse. He looked out at the world from under a messy clump of corn coloured mane which refused to behave no matter how much its owner pulled at it. I would have almost been comical to Dustpan if the pony it was attached to didn’t look like he could pump iron with anvils.

The trio approached calmly and upon spotting Dusty and Screwball veered in their direction, Tip-bit grinning like a timber wolf who’d found a lonely crippled cow, “Ah Dustpan, and your unsettled friend,” Tip-bit’s scorn could have curdled fresh milk, “I see you mustered the courage to come after all.”

The elderly stallion pointed out his two companions, “This is ‘Quick Point’, my legal adviser,” moving on Tip introduced his other associate, “And this is ‘Tough Luck’, he’s here in case your friend gets any more ideas into her muddled mind.”

Quick Point nodded reservedly, while to Dustpan’s surprise Tough Luck waved in a friendly fashion. (In between trying to force his uncooperative mane out of his eyes) The three newcomers stood for a moment before Screwball offered them seats.

“It’s very nice to meet you all, please be seated,” Dustpan had to do a second take when he heard Screwball’s reply. She had, without him noticing, morphed once again and now bore a pair of half-moon specials of a bright red colour, while her normally wild mane was pulled back into a tight bun under her little hat: Screwy was the very picture of professional respectability.

The three ‘guests’ glanced at one another before turning to Dustpan who shrugged in a bemused fashion. Unsettled, the others took their seats as Tip-bit motioned for ‘Quick’ to begin. The lawyer lifted a heavy looking brief case onto the table before unfastening it with deliberate care.

Dustpan was beginning to believe the pony’s name was a misdemeanour: Quick Point’s manner was slow and precise and Dusty could easily imagine the pony taking the time to count out his sugar grains for his breakfast cereal.

The moment drew on as Quick produced a number of complicated looking papers, along with a copy of Dustpan’s contract to Tip-bit. With exaggerated care he arranged them in neat piles across the table before giving a very slow smile.

“The law is quite clear on this matter on several points,” Quick Point stated in a flat monotone. Celestia help us, he even speaks dully Dustpan winced internally as Quick took his sweet time to speak each word, ensuring it was clearly defined.

“I would draw your attention to sub clause ‘b’ in the said contract, and how it clearly indi.....” Quick was cut off as Screwball suddenly cried out ‘Objection!’

The whole food court paused at this outburst and Dustpan felt his checks redden as bemused stares turned to watch them from every direction.

Quick Point coughed before raising an eyebrow, “I beg your pardon Miss, but please do not interrupt,” He straightened his tie before continuing as if nothing had stopped him, “Now where was I? Ah yes, sub clause ‘b’ directly shows....”

Once again Screwball bellowed, cutting off Quick’s flow once more, “Objection and I move to Strike!”

The ponies all around looked to one another in utter confusion as Dustpan tried to sink into his seat, praying the ground would itself swallow him.

Quick’s calm manner showed a faint crack as his blue eyes glinted with annoyance, “Young filly, this is not a courtroom. We are not in session, this is a simple discussion over potential ramifications of your action....”

It seemed that Quick was doomed to never to finish a sentence as Screwball grinned happily before cutting him off once again, “I further motion that your case is a complete tissue of lies and that this case be thrown out at once.”

Quick Point began rubbing his head in irritation while Tough Luck and Tip-bit just stared at Screwball in complete bemusement, “Is she totally off her rocker?” ‘Tough’ asked, his eyes never leaving Screwball’s wildly waving hooves.

She smiled sweetly, “Why thank you good sir, I have spent many years perfecting it,” Screwball leaned in close to Tough who shrunk back from her as if she had the plague, before she whispered so loudly that Dustpan was sure they could have heard her the next street over, “I’ve always wanted to say those things, lawyer speak is so silly.”

Quick Point’s aura of calm detachment showed further signs of stress, “Young lady, I find your mocking of my profession most disagreeable, I insist that you cease this foolery and...”

Dustpan had to suppress a chuckle as Screwball interrupted the lawyer for a third time, “Oh I’m not practising ‘foolery’ I haven’t got enough balloons or cheese wheels for that; I am not mocking your profession good sir, in fact I find it quite interesting.”

The whole plaza paused as they tried to 'work out' that one before Screwball continued, “All these rules and regulations, ponies actually follow this stuff?”

Tip-bit tried to slice through the babble of Screwball, “Yes we do, and the law clearly states that you both owe me recompense for your acts.”

To every pony’s surprise Screwball actually paused and rubbed her chin, after a tense moment where no one spoke she shook her head, “No and I’m afraid no again Mr Tip-bit.”

Quick tried again, “I can assure you my dea....”

Screwball stepped in fast as lighting and Dustpan couldn’t help but smile as Quick Point ground his teeth in agitation, “First point: You do not follow these boring rules Mr Tip-bit and secondly the law as you put it Mr Quick does not support your assertions.”

An expectant silence settled upon the gathering, and Dustpan could have sworn that Screwball mouthed the words ‘pause for effect’ before continuing on, “I would draw your attention to point six point three: The employer must give reasonable time to inform his employee that a shift/schedule has been changed

Screwball indicated the section of the contract which had been highlighted in green, “Also I would point out sub clause ‘j’ in section three of the Worker’s and Employer’s Rights document of early diarchy period which still holds today: Employers are to ensure that all workers are trained in the use of equipment they are required to use as part of any given duty.

She smiled sweetly as both Quick and Tip frantically studied the relevant section of the contract along with the named document which Screwball produced out of the air. “I have an eye witness that can testify that both these rules have been broken by you Tip-bit on numerous occasions.

The crowd all around looked at each other and murmured in approval as Tip-bit paled slightly. Quick however, rallied to the call, “Very good points raised there Miss, but might I draw your attention to paragraph five point six of the contra....”

“I thought you might bring that up Mr Quick, but you can clearly see that your point is overridden by the contents of paragraph twelve: line three,” Screwball winked at Dustpan as the lawyer released a sound of frustration at being cut off.

Dustpan could only watch mouth agape as the pace increased, with Quick and Screwball trading points of law one after another and Quick’s manner deteriorating rapidly. Dusty glanced to Tip-bit who was sweating and further to Tough Luck who just sat there with a blank expression on his face.

The big stallion looked at Dustpan who shrugged and in a moment of shared companionship motioned for Tough to follow him to a safe distance before offering Tough a drink, “Looks like these two are going to be at this for while doesn’t it?”

Tough nodded and sipped the proffered refreshment, “She ain’t gonna get violent is she?” He asked in a slightly worried tone as Quick’s brief case sailed through the air and clattered to a stop on the cobbled street beyond the plaza.

Dustpan shook his head as Quick Point dived at Screwball who was still clutching a brief and pointing out several areas in which Quick’s conduct during that case was in question, “Only as a last resort I hope.”

Tough gave a relieved sigh, “Good, the crazy ones can be a hoof full.”

Dusty chuckled in agreement, “Oh you’re so right Tough, she’s one of best for that.” The pair watched as Quick tried to force feed Screwball a scrunched up ball of papers even as she continued to list his faults out of the Protocols of the Equestrian Lawyer in Regards to Good Practice.

“Where did you find her, I mean had she escaped from an asylum?” Tough asked in a mesmerized manner as Tip-bit crawled under a nearby table; the ‘verbal debate’ having escalated to include both plates and cutlery being thrown by the now berserk Quick Point.

Dustpan grinned as Screwball spun and rolled with ease, avoiding the thrown implements while all the while giving a dictation from Honest Practices and You, “Well she just kinda fell into my life and it hasn’t been the same since.”

The crowd were cheering for one side or the other as the frantic restaurant owner could only watch on in horror. Tables were overturned, chairs were broken and various condiments flew through the air to shattering on the ground.

Tough shook his head as he drained the last of the free drink, “Well Mr, I don’t envy you; seems like you have got a wild one there.” He placed the cup on the only upright table remaining, “Thanks for the drink, I hope you can work out your troubles with Tip.”

Dustpan thanked Tough and waved him goodbye as Screwball finished her discourse to the now gibbering Quick Point, his mane was a crazed mess and the lawyer’s tie looked like it had been put through a paper shredder.

Shaking her head sadly, Screwball trotted up to Dustpan and sat triumphantly opposite him, “Who could have known all those laws and rules could be so much fun?” Her eyes were bright, not a single hair of her mane was out of place and Dustpan pan was struck by just how pretty she was.

“Okay Screwy I give up, how do you do it?” Dustpan asked as she flicked through another book of Equestrian law.

“Do what Dusty?” Screwball replied in an absentminded way, her muzzled buried in the tome and her eyes riveted on the words contained within.

It was a hard thing to put your hoof on but Dustpan tried nevertheless, “Well one moment you’re well you, the next you’re the world’s greatest expert on laws and rules,” Dustpan sipped his drink as he worked out how to further phrase his question, “Then there was the bowling alley, you threw a three strikes in a row without even thinking about it, yet still managed to lose the game against me terribly?”

That was something that still bothered Dustpan, the maths just didn’t add up no matter how many times he tried. Even the automated scorer broke down at the end and they had been forced to call it a draw. (Before Screwball helpfully pointed out that somehow Dustpan had won)

Screwball closed the book and grinned at Dustpan, “Well it’s really simple to be honest, I’m Discord’s daughter so I guess a bit of his chaos rubbed off on me.”

Dustpan shook his head as some of the guards arrived and began talking to the unfortunate owner of the now trashed food court. The irate stallion pointed to the frothing Quick Point who was rolling on the floor while chewing his own tie and then further at Screwball and Dustpan. Of Tip-bit, there was no sign; the old pony must have fled the scene already.

“But Screwy you’re adop....” Dustpan began before it was his turn to be cut off.

“Hello my little ponies, I trust you’re both doing well?” A bright flash announced the arrival of Discord who was suddenly slouched in the chair opposite the pair.

“Oh hello father, we’re having a great time!” Screwball announced excitedly, her face shining with joy.

“Pleased to hear it my dear,” Discord looked around the devastation and chuckled, “And a fine job if I do say so myself.” He grinned at Dustpan, whose ears had flattened: the pair of guards was making their way over to the seated trio.

The first guard coughed, “Ehm....err this pony said you were partly responsible for the current state of his restaurant. We need to...”

Screwball waved a dismissive hoof, “Oh I think that under section seven of paragraph twenty four....” for once it was Screwball who was cut off mid flow as Quick Point began sobbing inconsolably. She spared Dustpan a look so innocent that he was surprised a little halo didn’t appear above her head.

“I think you will find that Quick Point did all of this damage and we were just innocent bystanders,” Dustpan commented flatly never taking his eyes off Discord.

The two soldiers glanced to one another before retreating and gathered up the bawling Quick Point as Discord smiled warmly, “Nevertheless I feel that we should compensate the poor shop owner, a good deed and all that in the wake of such delicious chaos.”

He nodded to Screwball, “My dear, please pay the poor owner for any damages that these miscreants have caused, there’s a good girl.”

Screwball nodded enthusiastically and trotted off to see to the distraught manager while Discord watched her go, before rounding on Dustpan, “I would like to remind you colt of our arrangement.”

Dustpan raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I have been doing my best to keep Screwball happy, what more do you want?”

Discord took a leisurely sip of the glass in his claw, “I told you that she firmly believes that I am her father, it could unsettle Screwball in a bad way should you try to convince her otherwise.”

Dustpan stared at the draconequus in mute shock, “You came here to make sure I didn’t tell her that she’s not really your daughter?” Dustpan couldn’t believe it, “Surely you have tried to tell her?”

Discord formed an arch with his mismatched fingers as he rested his elbows on the table, “I did try to begin with; but the results were, less than pleasant. All in all I thought it best to allow her to live under that delusion until we came to a better point to address it.”

Discord looked up as Screwball trotted back towards them, a huge grin plastered across her muzzle, “All done, he was very grateful for our contribution,” She sat down and saw both Dustpan and Discord watching her, “What?”

The moment drew out as the staff began to clean up the mess all around the trio until finally Discord broke the silence, “I was just asking Dustpan about your very fine display,” He spared a meaningful glance at Dustpan, “I’m so glad all those law books you asked me to find were useful.”

Screwball beamed, “They were, I never knew so many rules could exist; did you also know that rules can change over time, for example something that was wrong to do at one point is perfectly legal during another point in time?”

Dustpan put his current conundrum aside, “That’s great Screwy, I have to admit I would never have took you for a reading type.”

Screwball giggled, “Oh I’m not normally, but with the right motivation I managed to overcome,” she beamed at Dustpan in a strange way, and he couldn’t help but notice that Discord’s face darkened. “Plus how do you know how to break the rules if you don’t know what they are?” Screwball prattled on as Discord and Dustpan locked gazes in a meaningful way.

“Very good my dear, but I think that’s enough fun for one day,” Screwball’s ears drooped, “Awww but dad....I was having a great time with Dusty.” There was that odd glance towards Dustpan again, he felt his own heart stir as Screwball’s eyes met his and she gave him a little smile.”

Discord coughed, “No my dear, I simply must have your help with a number of projects. May be another time alright?”

Screwball pouted before Discord pointed with a claw, “Now Screwball.” Finally bowing in defeat she shuffled past Dustpan and in the blink of an eye was gone.

The stern manner that Discord had used sent a shiver of unease up Dustpan’s spine, reminding him far too much of the fire and brimstone ‘talk’ from before. Discord turned back to Dustpan, his expression dangerous:

“I think it would be good for Screwball and you to have a little time apart Dustpan,” Discord pronounced like a judge ordering an execution.

Dustpan was taken aback, “Does this mean I am free to go then, no more lessons about being a normal pony and so forth?”

Discord studied him for a moment before replying coldly, “For the time being Dustpan.”

The pony felt his heart leap, finally he was free of.....but then the empty feeling hit Dustpan again and he found himself oddly melancholy, “Maybe I could come and visit when things have calmed down a bit?” He asked hopefully and Discord’s face grew darker still.

“Maybe,” Discord let the word hang in the air for a moment before he finished his glass and stood up until he loomed over Dustpan, “Don’t call us, if I have further need of your servicesI will let you know.”

The large creature reached into thin air and produced a bag which clinked heavily, “This should cover any expenses our little arrangement may have cost you,” Discord handed the bag to Dustpan who opened it gingerly to see it revealed a substantial amount of bits.

With another snap of his fingers Discord was gone, leaving an uncertain Dustpan sitting amidst the devastation. He looked around the mayhem caused and smiled sadly to himself, one thing he was certain of was that Tip-bit’s lawyer wouldn’t be coming back to harass him any time soon. Dustpan could only hope that Tip-bit would learn his lesson too and finally leave Dustpan in peace.

Clutching his payment, Dustpan arose, paid the bill and began heading off to his home. As he trotted down the streets and byways of Canterlot he felt that odd empty feeling in his core again. To his amazement Dustpan kept hoping that Screwball would appear around the next corner, but each time he was disappointed in his wish.

All too soon Dustpan found himself standing before the lodging house again. He took a deep breath and climbed the steps before knocking on the door: Star Glancer having still not returned his key meant that Dusty was forced to wait until the mare came to open the door for him.

She finally undid the locks and stared at Dustpan in a cautious manner, “I see you're alone this time Dusty, no menace with you?

Dustpan sighed, “No Star just me, only me.” With a resigned look he passed several coins over to Star Glancer, “This should cover the rent I owe you; I’ll go pack my things.”

Star’s face softened as she looked upon the sad stallion before her, “Oh about that Dusty, I have changed my mind. You can stay, I know it was all just a big miss understanding.”

She held up a piece of paper with some writing on it, “Discord apologises for the situation he and Screwball put you in.”

Dustpan didn’t even bother to look at the explanation, “Thanks Star, I’ll be in my room then.” Without another word he made his slow way along the familiar passage, with a despondent Star Glancer watching him the whole way until he closed his door.

---

Dustpan sat at his desk and stared at the pile of coins before him as the pale light of dusk filtered in from outside. This gold amounted to about a year’s wages and it meant his money troubles were solved; at least until he could find a new job anyway. If he truly wanted to he could go for a night on the town, or maybe four, but he just didn’t feel like it.

Everywhere he looked he saw what he’d striven for, everything he needed to live comfortably. He chided himself as, like before, none of this pleased him. If that wasn’t what he wanted then what was it?

Dustpan had a horrible suspicion that he knew the answer; it wasn’t an answer he wanted to hear right now as it seemed so far out of his reach as to be impossible. He continued to study his desk and the pile of money on it.

He couldn’t be pining, surely, not for her? The whole idea was ludicrous and made all the more bitter because he had the sinking feeling he would never see her again. One didn’t cross a being like Discord lightly. Dustpan shook his head and chuckled morosely, “Look at me, having ideas about breaking into Discord’s realm to find a filly who drives me nuts.”

The absurdity of it caused him to laugh grimly, his life really was a mess. Still the longing wouldn’t leave him, Dustpan missed her giggles, her odd questions and her bizarre insights into things. He missed her eyes and the stupid way her propeller hat spun at different speeds to reflect Screwball’s mood.

He even missed the fact he had no clue what she was going to do next, nervous excitement of a world where nothing was predictable. Was she really worth it though? Dustpan had always looked at the value of things, weighed up the cost of choices and tried to make informed decisions: In short he always tried to look at things sensibly.

Now his heart was screaming at him to do something totally bonkers, where nothing was certain. Had he just imagined the way Screwball had looked at him? Was she so far gone that the crazy filly didn’t even know what these feelings were? Dustpan was slowly coming to the conclusion that he would never be at peace again unless he found out.

A fresh resolve formed in his eyes and he slammed his hoof down on the desk, caused the piled gold to dance and spin before much of it tumbled onto the floor below. Without even stopping to collect the fallen coins Dustpan headed for his door, wrenched it open and headed straight for Star’s door.

He pounded on the frame as if all the prisoners of Tartarus were after him and only stopped when a bleary eyed Star Glancer opened the door, “Dustpan? What are you doing?”

He smiled in an intense fashion, his eyes bright with determined resolution, “I am going after her Star and I need your help!”