The Snuggle Conspiracy

by CategoricalGrant

Snuggle Another Day (Coco Pommel)

“Thanks for accompanying me, Coco,” you say, smiling at the short beige mare beside you. “I figure that it’s going to be a lot better to have a native Manehattaner with me, I don’t fit in well with the culture here.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” she says, slightly fidgeting as she smoothes out her pastel dress.

Being suddenly reminded of your own appearance, you tighten your tie before knocking four times on the broad penthouse doors in front of you.

A proper-looking stallion opens the door, takes one look at you both, and steps aside, allowing you both passage into a large room with a vaulted ceiling and double-height mirrors overlooking the Manehattan skyline. A clearly professional entertainer is playing piano in the corner of the room while caterers whisk around the room delivering champagne flutes and Hors d’oeuvres, adding a distinctly jovial, yet aristocratic, flair to the ornate space. A group of ponies are dancing near the piano, and a bar is set up on your right, a modern piece of furniture glowing with a soft blue light. You think back to the eerie dream you had when Princess Luna first spoke to you, and feel that perhaps that bar belongs as a set piece in that megalopolis. Given the occupation of the room and it’s size, you guess that there are perhaps eighty or ninety ponies in the room, not counting the wait staff.

Feeling both in your element and a touch out of place in this environment, your eyes narrow and you scan the room until you find your target. You begin walking and motion with your head for Coco to follow.

The mare you are looking for, a pale coated individual in her early middle age, notices you and begins trotting (no…more like gliding) toward you, her ornate orange manepiece staying motionless as she moves. “Inquisitor, I am so truly glad you could make it.”

“Mrs. Orange Blossom,” you begin, adding a half-bow and a hoof twirl for flourish, “this is a lovely venue. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Princess Luna thanks you.”

The mare in front of you seems to lose interest and turns toward your plus one. “My, is that Madam Pommel? Your work is the talk about Bridleway! My niece speaks very highly of you. ”

Coco Pommel blushes and timidly brushes one of her front hooves with the other. “Thank you.”

“Now,” Orange Blossom begins, “let’s have our discussion. I’m sorry it couldn’t be under calmer and clearer circumstances. I’m sorry my husband is out of town as well, he surely would have liked to meet the both of you.”

Before you can open your mouth to reply, an official-looking staff member approaches. “Mrs. Blossom, you have an urgent phone call.”

She waves him off, dismissively. “I am entertaining, sir. Tell them to try again later.”

The staffer shifts uncomfortably. “It’s your husband, ma’am. He truly says it is urgent.”

With a glare and a touch of fear in her voice, Orange Blossom relents. “Fine. I shall be right there.” You see her grit her teeth.
She turns her attention back to you, a little calmer. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back. Socialize, please! Enjoy the party.” With that she trots off, her manepiece moving in what is quite an agitated manner.
You shudder and walk to the bar. Coco Pommel follows behind you, observing the room. “I need a drink.”
The bartender asks, “Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” you reply. “What are the house specials?”
“Well, we have a few new cocktails designed by some of Manehattan’s top mixologists, but may I suggest the wine offerings for the evening? They are truly quite good pairs with the food and the house cocktails are primarily intended for after dinner.”
“Ugh.” You grunt. “I’ve seen them. A thirty year old left bank Bordeaux, a sweet Muscatel, and champagne with the coloration of fruit wine. I don’t intend to poison myself tonight, sir.”
You look up with a cheeky grin. It drops off of your face when you discern that the bartender is clearly unamused. “Well,” you sigh. “I’ll take a scotch, whatever the house is. Double. Straight.”
The bartender nods. “And for you, ma’am?”
“O-oh,” Coco stammers, her face heating up from the unexpected pressure. She looks at you for guidance. You cock your head at her. “Uh, I guess I’ll just take a tonic water, thank you.”
You begin chatting as the bartender prepared your drinks. “This drink is direct combat against that entrance we just had,” you shiver. “I don’t like it here.”
“How so?” Coco asks.
“Everypony here is so cold to each other. It’s like they are so self-absorbed that they are only acutely aware of others. I hoped that that was just a stereotype about the old money families here, but that’s the fourth or fifth experience I’ve had like that since I got off the train this afternoon. I don’t know,” you sigh, “maybe I’m being too sensitive. Too much of a good old boy from Midwest Equestria.”
Coco is looking at you intently with shimmering eyes and upturned ears. “I understand completely! That’s the big reason that I wanted to start off the midsummer theater festival again. No one here cares about anypony but themselves, unless you give them a reason to. If it wasn’t for Applejack and Rarity’s help, the ponies in my community would have nothing to rally together behind, and everyday they’d act just like…” Coco sighs. “This. I wish Manehattan had a culture like the rest of Equestria.”
You look at Coco Pommel with new admiration. What a caring mare. “Well, we could put on a play for these ponies and see if it helps.”
Coco Pommel laughs at this and you laugh with her.
Looking around again you see a mare with a dark, almost black mane standing by the door and rummaging through her purse. A waiter passes by. A stallion in a blue suit approaches the bar and orders a drink, then makes eye contact with you.

“Why, hello. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance,” he says. His meticulously coiffed green mane and sparkling eyes make him look a little more genuine.
You introduce yourself by name and go on to describe yourself, “…I’m Princess Luna’s Inquisitor of economics.”
“Ah,” he says, “not a job anyone envies at the moment. But that’s darker talk for another time, no conversation for a soiree. I’m Rare Mint, the borough’s treasurer.”
“Nice to meet you,” you say, happy to be talking with someone showing a few glints of emotionality. “This is my friend, Coco Pommel.”
“Oh, how nice to meet you! I’ve read much about you in the press, all good things I assure you, but didn’t recognize you as I had yet to put a face to the name. I believe the latest headline was, ‘The Big Two on Bridleway Become the Big Three’, was it not?”
You look at her with widened eyes. You knew she was a big wig costume designer, but you didn’t know she was a rising star at the very top of her field.
“Oh, yes it was,” she says. “Ponies seemed to really respond to my work on Clover and the Technicolor Dreamcoat.”
“Wow,” you let escape, “there are a lot of really powerful ponies at these things. I’m intimidated.”
Rare Mint chuckles. “If you’re new to the social scene in the city it can be. But people like me are small fry, friend. The Lieutenant governor was here earlier, he left about twenty minutes ago.”
You let out a long, slow whistle.
He laughs in response. “I love meeting people from inland, so real, such a breath of fresh air. Where are you from?”
“Coltcago, originally. I’ve been in Ponyville about two years now.”
“A beautiful city and a quaint, charming town. Well, I’ll let you enjoy the party,” he says smiling and shaking your hoof. “I hope to run into you again soon.”
As he leaves, you swore you saw the black maned mare looking right at you, but when your eyes finally came into focus she was back rummaging in her purse.
Twenty-five minutes or so passed; you joined the pain throng of ponies in the middle of the room, and introduced yourself to several groups, one mediated by Rare Mint. It was all the same to you; the Deputy Mayor, a real estate magnate, a young startup multi-millionaire, the President of the Manehattan Federal Reserve bank, a congresspony…
And when you turned your head, there the black maned pony was, looking for you, presumably. Thinking quickly, you immediately pull Coco Pommel onto the dance floor. “Want to dance? Great.”
She’s surprised at first, but ends up smiling. “Wow, where did you learn to waltz?”
“Learn? It’s just one two three, one two three.” You give her a twirl, “and the occasional stylistic choice.”
The mare, likely engaged in the same practice as the stallion who followed you in Ponyville, passed by, hopefully having missed you, just as Orange Blossom tapped you on the shoulder. “I thought you were a little too unkempt and uncouth, but it appears, if your dancing ability and choice of drink have anything to say about it, it would appear you have a form of rugged class to you, Mr. Inquisitor.”
Still dancing with Coco Pommel, you wink, then ask, “Can we go somewhere private to talk?”
The black maned mare was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m glad you’re coming to fix this,” Orange Blossom says to you and Coco Pommel as you sit in a parlor adjacent to the main party room. “My husband has been running himself ragged trying to keep all of our investments together, that’s why he’s not here now, and why he called me.”

“Who do you side with, Bakers and processors or the farmers?” You ask, curious. A mare with a lot of powerful friends could be a strong ally.

“Our family has a lot of money in everything- bakeries in Manehattan, 500 acres of orange orchards in the country…We, just like everyone else in Manehattan, want this to be over as much as everyone. Instability is no good for business. Just yesterday, our friends had a window smashed during a demonstration. ”

“Well, I guess I’m here to ask; is there any way that you could try and talk reason to either camp? Or, is there a way that I could get some sort of negotiations going?”

Orange Blossom narrows her eyes at your desperation.

You sigh. “We’re up a creek without a paddle here, Mrs. Blossom. Luna has sent me to settle these strikes and embargoes, and restore a free market, which means, I suppose, taking the side of the farmers. How can you help me?”

“Well, unfortunately there is not much that I can do, my dear boy. You’re in the wrong place.”

This intrigues you. She notices that it does and continues, “I can tell you with 100% certainty, and so can everyone else with enough connections here, that someone is pulling the strings from Canterlot. It certainly could be fixed overnight with a government policy shift or a decree… and some say that it would have fizzled out on its own if the bakers hadn’t been receiving tacit government support.”

Your eyes widen and you sit on the edge of your seat. “Then… how deep does the rabbit hole go?”

“Not all the way to Princess Celestia, if that’s what you are thinking. If there was even a whiff of her involvement, every tabloid in every city would have picked it up long ago. And the government has very good corruption controls, so I doubt it could be a government minister. No, it is certainly someone else who can influence things more softly.”

“Do you have any idea of who could be doing this?”

She shrugs. “I have absolutely no clue. I know dozens of investors, and any could be involved for some sort of gain. Interest Payment, Capital Investment, Moneybags, Positive Forecast, and Prime Lending are a few names that come to mind, but there are so many others, and I wouldn’t have any idea of where to start.”

You look incredibly disheartened at this. All you got from this whole visit was a vague trail to rich ponies in Manehattan; hardly the breakthrough lead you hoped for.

Orange Blossom smiles at you. “But, this is where I can be of assistance. You should have learned three things today, Mr. Inquisitor.”

You look up, hope once again beginning to brew in your mind. “And what were they?”

“First,” she begins, “anypony who is anypony knows everypony. Second, Money and government power always go together.”

“And what about the third thing?”

Orange Blossom has a glint in her eye as she finishes, “the third lesson is merely a corollary of the second…all roads lead to Canterlot.”

You collapse on the floor of Coco Pommel's apartment as soon as she opens the door. This was an incredibly disappointing trip, although now you know that the answer to all your searches lay in Canterlot, and that the reach of whoever was trailing you extended even into Manehattan. You let out an exhausted groan.

Coco Pommel sits down next to you on the ground. “I know you didn’t get the results you were looking for, I’m sorry…”

You get up, albeit slowly. “It’s okay. Tomorrow is a new day,” you say with questionable confidence.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I had so much fun tonight!” She chirps.

“…Really?” you ask.

She nods. “Mmhm. I usually don’t go to a lot of parties, but with the dancing and the talking and the music…I think I might start going to them. It was the happiest I’d been in weeks!” she envelops you in a hug. “Thank you for taking me with!”

“Aw, you’re welcome. Alright…I’m going to go to sleep,” you say, rolling on the couch in her living room. “It’s been a long day and there is a lot more traveling I need to do tomorrow.”

“Oh…well you’re not planning on sleeping there are you? You can take my bed and I’ll sleep there.”

“Phhh,” you dismiss. “Don’t give me the overly-gracious host routine, I’m fine right here.”

“No, I really insist!”

“So do I, Coco.”

“Well, I’m sleeping on this couch tonight whether you like it or not,” she says, finally a little more assertive now that she’s away from the environment of the party.

“Okay, go right ahead.”

There is an awkward pause that lasts about twenty seconds. With your eyes closed, you conjectured that she ceded defeat and had silently left the room.

Instead, a warm hoof is planted next to yours as she lays down parallel to you on the couch. You both face directly up at the ceiling in an awkward standoff, Coco struggling not to roll off onto the floor.

You roll your eyes and put a hoof around her, scooting toward the couch back to make room. And that’s how you fell asleep, both of you still in formal attire.

Author's Note:

Enjoy! I'm aiming for two more chapters, then perhaps a sequel.

Comments

[Eyes Over Heaven]

But my original character, Coldsteel the Trailblazer, hates cuddles. Nothin personnel kid, but while there's no I in team, but there's a me in meme. Actually there's two because he's that cool.

P.S. Fuck you Kevin

[CategoricalGrant]

7109277
I, too, attempt to aggressively meme. I hope you find this Kevin you are searching for.

[Moon loving Changeling]

*Claps* bravo. Die Another Day reference. Very clever.

[CategoricalGrant]

7109677
Thank you for your kind words... I'm running out of Bond movies though, and I refuse to use titles which star Daniel Craig.