Agent Con Mane in Doctor Ironhoof (Under Revision)

by Fairytail

Chapter 9: Expected Company

“Just a minute!” Desire called out in response to the ringing of her doorbell. She quickly ran the towel through her canary yellow coat and drained the soapy white bathwater. She hurriedly brushed her damp mane in front of the mirror and pouted at the sight of her naked face. With the swiftness of a summer breeze, she reach her front door and opened it wide. Standing before her was a cream colored Unicorn in a black dinner jacket and red bow tie holding a freshly picked flower in his hoof. His grin was sickeningly infectious. Desire gasped as she took a few steps backwards and her eyes contracted into tiny dots in a sea of white. “It’s you!?”

“Are you surprised to see me?” Joe said, “I thought I was expected?”

“Yes, well…” Desire desperately scanned her empty drawing room. “I didn't expect to see you… this early!” She innocently bounced her moist bangs with her hoof and batted her eyelids playfully.

“Well, I couldn't wait.” Joe held out his hoof and presented the wildflower to Desire. She quickly plucked the plant from his grasp and proceeded to bit the head off of the stem. “May I come in?”

Desire fumbled on her hooves and awkwardly gestured him inside. Joe admired the decor of Desire’s home. To his amazement, the small apartment was colorful with personality and flavor. Interpretive paintings hung on the walls over various cultural sculptures and pictures of the sea. A well polished record player sat atop a lovely wooden cabinet neatly filed with various records. The record that sat still on the turntable was titled ‘Traditional Janeighcan Folk Songs as Sung by Sapphire Shores’. As Joe paced the room and admired the decor, Desire stood on the rug with her gaze darting around the room. She nearly jumped out of her coat when she finally noticed Joe had approached her.

“Now then,” Joe said, “hows about the two of us have a nice cozy talk, eh? I can make some coffee.”

Joe peered his head around until he saw the doorway that led to the kitchen. Desire’s tongue stumbled around in silence, choking and gagging on the words she could not find. The telephone in her bedroom interrupted her almost speech and she once again flinched in surprise.

“Oh, please excuse me, I have to answer that.” Desire backed slowly towards her bedroom door. “Please make yourself at home.”

Desire darted into her bedroom and quickly shut the door. She leaped towards the ringing phone with such force that she nearly collided with her bed. She put the receiver to her ear and answered in a harsh, panicked whisper.

“Hello? ...Yes, yes he’s here now… No, I don’t know what could have happened… What’s that…? Yes, I’ll keep him busy for as long as I can…” The bedroom door creaked open slowly. Desire could smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. “He’s coming in now, I’ll have to- OK I have to go now, sweetie! I’ll talk to you later, bye!!” The receiver dinged sharply as she quickly hung up.

Joe was levitating two mugs of coffee in his horn, one of which contained a small mountain of floating marshmallows. He levitated one of the mugs to Desire. “Who was that?” he asked.

“Oh nopony important.” Desire laid her mug on the bedside table next to the phone and walked over to Joe. She pressed her body tightly up against his and leaned her head on his shoulders, “Not important enough to bother us anyway. Now then. How about you enjoy your coffee and I’ll make dinner.”

“I thought we were going out to eat?” Joe asked. He took a step away from Desire’s sudden surge of intimacy. Desire took a hint and lounged on her bed instead.

“Oh but it’s so much more cozy in here, don’t you think?” she said with half closed eyes.”So much more private.”

Joe’s ears were sweating. His bow tie suddenly felt a lot tighter around his neck. “Well I admit you do have a very nice place here, Desire.”

Desire hopped off her bed and took a slow, sultry waltz towards Joe. “you can bake us some donuts.” She whispered, “Just for the two of us.” She stroke the underside of Joe’s chin as she stared directly into his eyes. Joe wiped away the sweat around his ears.

“Well I do very much like donuts.” Joe said in foalish glee.

“Yes,” whispered Desire as she leaned in closer, “I know you do.”

Desire pressed her lips tightly against Joe and wrapped her forelegs around his neck. The damp coils of her mane tickled Joe’s ears. Joe gave in and closed his eyes as he continued to kiss Desire passionately. Joe reached out and caressed her tail. Desire backed her head away.

“Careful, Mr. Mane. I don’t like having my tail touched.”

Joe gave her a smile and kissed her again. With a gentle hoof, Desire slowly removed Joe’s bow tie.

“Oh Con, that was simply wonderful!”

Desire sat straight up in her bed as she swallowed the last bite of the donuts that Joe made for her. She giggled in embarrassment at her crumpled and crumb covered sheets. On the other side of the room, Joe was brushing crumbs off of his dinner jacket and dress shirt.

“Yes, the jelly filled ones were my favorite.” he said.
“How did you make them so perfectly? You must be a master at the oven.”
“Who needs an oven when you got magic? My baking spell can make sure that I get the perfect temperature every time.” There was still a large plate full of leftovers that sat on a small table near the door. Joe walked around the room and collected the empty platters. He placed them neatly next to the empty coffee mugs and levitated his bow tie off of the ground and tied it back around his neck. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Joe put the telephone receiver to his ear and dialed the rotor. Desire nearly fell off her bed in confusion. Her gaze was lost and her eyes darted around in desperation.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Calling a taxi.” Joe said with a shattering bluntness. Desire jumped off of her bed allowing the sheets and crumbs to fall to the floor. She instinctively flung her forelegs around Joe’s back but he either didn't notice or didn't care.

“A taxi?” she asked in exasperation.

“Yes, I’m afraid I must be off.”

“But can’t you stay here a little longer?” Desire playfully nuzzled the back of Joe’s neck.

“Yes, hello?” Joe said into the phone, “Yes could I get a pick up at Mountain Road number 62 please? Thank you.”

Joe hung up the phone and flicked Desire off of him with his tail. Desire jumped backwards onto her bed and landed on her back. She clung all four hooves close to her body and filled her belly with air to make herself look cute and willing. “Oh but we were just starting to have fun.”

Joe smiled at the display and raised an eyebrow in deliberation before shaking his head. “I have a very busy evening ahead of me.”

“But it will be dark out soon.” Desire said as she rolled over to lay on her stomach, “Couldn't we just be together until morning?”

Joe glanced out the window. The last vestiges of daylight sank into the orange ocean horizon. Stars slowly twinkled into existence. Joe thought back to Sky Blazer’s warning. He knew that he was on borrowed time and that he could not waste a single night.

“I’m afraid I can’t.” Joe answered.

“But you can’t go! The landslide!” She wailed in desperation.

“Thanks for telling me about that by the way. A kind beggar pony showed me a shortcut on my walk up here that avoided the main road. I’ll have the driver use that.”

“Well that explains it...” Desire hung her head low.

“Explains what?” Joe asked in suspicion. Desire quickly jolted her head back up and fidgeted her eyes.

“H-how you arrived here so fast.” She giggled innocently. Joe hoofed her chin and tilted her head up towards his. He gave her a reassuring smile. Her eyes glazed into a vacant gaze and her mouth hung open, mesmerized by his emerald eyes. A loud honk snapped her out of her delusion.

“Ah, that would be the taxi. Care to walk me out my dear?” Joe offered his hoof to her’s. Desire surrendered with a smile and wrapped her hoof around his.

“Oh fine, if you insist. I will see you again won’t I?”

“Oh, I sure hope so.”

She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulders as they left the house. The cool night air and chirping crickets invigorated Desire’s lungs. She slowly opened her eyes and saw the silver colored carriage that sat outside her home. It was a very charming taxi with the Official Emblem of Janeighca emblazoned on the side. The driver was quite charming with his pure white coat and bright golden armor. The Chief of Security smiled at the couple from inside the carriage.

“Wait.” Desire suddenly caught on, “What’s going on!?”

The Security Chief opened the carriage doors and Joe shoved Desire into the carriage.

“Chief, take her away.” Joe commanded in a gruff undertone.

“Yes, Commander!” The Chief roughly grabbed Desire with his powerful forelegs and forced her into the seat.

“No! Stop that! What are you doing!? Unhoof me! You’ll pay for this Con Mane!”

She hopelessly kicked and screamed but was easily constrained by the imposing soldier. Her hooves were shackled together and was forced to sit down next to the Chief.

“Quiet you!” screamed the Chief, “You’re under arrest for treason.”

Desire’s face was enveloped by a deluge of tears. From the far side of the carriage, she pleaded desperately towards Joe with terrified eyes. Joe remembered the feeling of her body pressed against his and her cool mane dripping onto his shoulders. He thought of her innocent smile and her tongue tied lies.

“Just be careful, Chief,” Joe said, “she doesn’t like having her tail extensions touched.”

Desire’s muzzle contorted in anger. With a spiteful sneer, she snorted and spat at Joe. Joe wiped the saliva off of his face with disdain and shut the police carriage door. The Security Chief opened the carriage window and stuck his neck out.

“Aren’t you coming with us, sir?”

“No,” Joe said, “I’m going to wait. I’m expecting company.”

The driver reared back and galloped off with the carriage. Joe silently entered back into Desire’s house. Joe trotted through each room and turned on every light. Back in the drawing room he turned the crank on the record player and sat the needle on the edge of the vinyl record. The scratching and crackling static of the record was soon replaced with the beautiful, soft string plucks of Janeighcan calypso. Sapphire Shores’ spicey voice echoed from the large brass horn like a spectre.

Underneath the moonlit sky, me pony and I
Come sit hoof in hoof
Underneath the moonlit sky, me pony and I
Dream of building a roof.

Apples and rainbows and butterflies
Gemstones and parties and starry skies
When we get married we make and grow
Nine little fillies in a row

The sheets and pillows of Desire’s bed were strewn across the floor. With levity, Joe tossed the pillows onto the mattress and covered them with the wrinkled wad of sheets. The lump of pillows under the sheets was convincing enough, and so Joe pulled a chair and sat against the wall well out of eyeshot from the door. He levitated to his lap a plate uneaten donuts from earlier and helped himself. As Joe magically turned off the bedroom lamp he anticipated the destined arrival.

An hour passed, maybe two. The donuts were almost gone; only one remained on the plate. The heavy weight of boredom took a toll on Joe’s eyelids. He knew his vigil was waning. His eyes had long ago become accustomed to the darkened room and each glance he took at his display of sheets and pillows made it look less and less convincing. The doubt drew out his fear which drew out his adrenaline. He welcomed it.

The sound was sudden and arrived without ceremony. The familiar tumbling of a doorknob and the creaking of the hinges. Joe listened intently to the hooffalls in the drawing room. Though nearly inaudible on the carpet, each clop was resolute with purpose like the ticking of a metronome. The bedroom door opened with a ghastly creak. The visitor’s tall, lanky shadow stood in the light that pervaded from the hallway. Joe watched from his dark corner as the assassin approached the bed and raised a heavy pickaxe high above his head. The farm tool came down right in the center of the bed lump. Sheet corners wafted into the air and feathers rained from above as the killer took another swing. Joe could hear the bed frame splinter under the immense pressure of the heavy metal object. The killer raised the pickaxe once again, but froze in place when Joe turned on the lamp. Professor Grey Granite stood there with his pickaxe trapped within Joe’s magic aura.

“Drop it, Professor!” Joe demanded. Granite let go of the farm tool and Joe used his horn to strike the pick into the floor. The whole tool was crafted from metal, including the handle, which bore the remains of a long lost leather covering.
Granite glared at Joe through saggy eyelids. “Very clever of you, Mr. Mane.”

“I had a feeling it’d be you.” Joe did not let up his horn and continued to surround the pick stuck in the floor with his aura. “When I heard you were the only one who saw Strange Ways’ secretariat, I had a feeling you might had something to do with it. And then there were the magic stones from Cockatrice Key he had you look at. Strange Ways was getting too close, wasn’t he?”

Granite’s wore a poker face. “He was sticking his muzzle where it didn’t belong! And if you keep snooping around, you’ll end up just like Strange Ways.”

“Did you kill him?” Joe asked.

“He was killed, but never mind how.”

Joe’s breathing became heavy and hoarse. He gritted his teeth as the magical aura surrounding his horn grew brighter. “Big mistake, block-head! Strange Ways was an old friend of mine. And I’ll personally make sure that anypony involved goes straight to Tartarus. Now, just who are you working for!?” Joe’s temples pounded with pain and he was panting to strive off the heat in his face. Joe was forced to let go of his concentration and released the pickaxe from his magic. He breathed heavily.

Granite stretched his crocodile skin into a crocodile smile. “I suppose I could tell you, since you won’t live long enough to use the information. I am working for--”

Granite cut off his own sentence. Without warning, he made a grand leap for his pickaxe. He grabbed the exposed metal handle in his mouth and pulled it from the ground. He gripped his jaw tightly around the weapon until it sizzled. The sizzling hissed louder and louder until Granite dropped the pickaxe from his mouth. The entire weapon was alight in red. Steam and distorted, rippling air rose from the metal. Granite garbled in agony. His leathery lips were black and cracked and his tongue could be fed to a Griffon as a steak. His attempts to scream were merely muffled sobs. He eyes watered in panic.

“Too hot for you to handle, Granite?” Joe said to the pony with the disfigured mouth, “It doesn’t take too long to heat up metal. You shouldn’t let a baker keep talking like that.”

Granite charged at Joe with animalistic fury. His mouth hung open in a perpetual, silent scream as he tackled Joe to the floor. His dirty, cracked hooves pressed down on Joe’s throat. Granite’s tangled mane whipped in all directions as he throttled Joe’s neck from side to side. Joe pressed against his assailant. The two full grown stallions wrestled for dominance in a blur of green and peppery white and cream and tuxedo black. They each threw their weight to the side in an effort to force their opponent onto their back. Even after punches and bucks and stabs with Joe’s horn, the two enemies remained locked in a ball of battle. Joe’s hoof collided with Grey Granite’s chest. He could hear the sound of cracking ribs. Granite was stricken with pain. Joe took the opportunity to gain the upper hoof and shoved the rock farmer to the floor. A sickening sizzle and the smell of burnt fur wafted from underneath Granite’s body. He arched his back and writhed in a silent wail. Joe lifted Granite up off the still smoldering pickaxe he had landed on and wrapped his hooves around Granite’s leathery neck.

Joe’s hold was too great to break free from. Grey Granite futilely clawed his hooves against the bulging forelegs that continued to tighten around his neck. Joe imagined all the things he could do with this pony, now that he was at his mercy. Joe thought to slam his body back onto the pickaxe. It was certainly still hot enough. Perhaps he could even slam him face first into it. The pickaxe was certainly tantalizing. The feeling of a heavy swing making contact with his heart or head would be oh so satisfying. Granite’s breath was shallowing. His dark green coat was turning a putrid purple. Joe tightened his grasp and twisted his hooves in opposite directions. Joe could feel the pop underneath Granite’s skin that accompanied the resounding snap. Joe allowed Granite’s lifeless body to fall to the floor. The head on the end of the broken neck stared up at Joe through unforgiving eyes, devoid of life.

Joe stood on all fours and focused on his breathing. As the adrenaline in his body wore off, he could feel the cuts and bruises accumulate on his body. On his way out of the bedroom, he noticed one chocolate donut still remained from the batch he baked earlier. He took a bite out of the donut, turned out the light and left the house for the docks.

Comments

[Brandon Sky]

The innuendo is all donuts, I can't get enough of how funny that is.

Also as an alternative approach: "That's an iron pickaxe. And you've mined your last block." To go with the original Dr. No pun.

[Fairytail]

5020949 good to see someone who appreciates my sense of humor.