The Napoleons: The Confessions & Revelations Of The Greatest Mafia Family

by Bluecatcinema

A Don's Best Friend

In the study of his new mansion, Grimoire was writing out the latest chapter of his memoirs, saying the words out loud as he wrote them.

'The brief sabbatical the family took after the Crystal Sun incident was quite relaxing. I quickly grew to enjoy the peace and quiet it offered, not having all of my agents all over the place. No having to give out commands, no having to settle matters, and no more planning sessions. I was free to spend my time any way I wanted, especially if it involved my darling wife, Zecora. It turns out that Black Knight Paladin destroying our old mansion was really a blessing in disguise. With the construction of the new mansion, we all took on a new way of life. Though we still had connections to our Bitalian operatives, we had taken a back seat, and started to get a taste of regular lives, with regular, day-to-day things, like going for walks into the town, chatting with the neighbours, and (for me, at least), snuggling up with my darling wife at night. Honestly, it all seemed so perfect...'

The moment he wrote the last word aloud, it began to echo throughout the currently empty mansion.

“Uh, didn’t know we had an echo...” Grimoire frowned. "Hello?"

"Hello?" The word echoed down the halls.

"How are you?" Grimoire asked.

"How are you?" He was answered by his own question.

"I'm good." Grimoire declared. "Nice day, huh?"

"Nice day, huh?" The sentence repeated.

"Glad we could have this chat." Grimoire grinned.

"Glad we could have this chat." The echo returned.

"Not much of a conversationalist, are you?" Grimoire sighed, as he turned back to his memoir.

'On second thought, however, as I begin this chapter, I had come to realize that I was truly all alone in our new mansion. The servants were all out for the day, Zecora was visiting Twilight, and my other brothers were off doing their own things. I was on my own, with no company. It’s rather baffling, when you think about it... but since we’re on the topic of companies.....'

Chapter Fifteen: A Don's Best Friend

'When I was a colt, I'd always wanted a pet, but mom and dad were always against it. Their reasons were myriad: They didn't think I could handle it, they didn't want to pay for medical bills, and they didn't want it pooping everywhere. So I was left wanting. Many was the night I dreamt of what it would be like to have a pet... But over the years, the dream faded, and I was left with the thoughts of what might have been. But enough about that. Today... today...'

Grimoire had reached a snag. He was suffering from a particularly bad case of writer's block, being stuck as to what word to put next in his chapter.

"Ugh, who knew writing a book could be so hard?" He groaned, leaning back in his chair. "I need some air..."

Grimoire decided to go outside and talk a short walk through the surrounding area. Unfortunately, he neglected to take into account the number of unfriendly creatures in the forest. While the new mansion was protected by a magical forcefield that repelled the local wildlife, Grimoire wasn't so fortunate. His frustration with his writing stumble had caused him to take leave of his common sense.

Grimoire wandered through the forest, taking the beautiful sights of nature.

'What an amazing place.' He thought. 'I was right to have the mansion built here. I don't know why most ponies around here is afraid of the forest. It's so peaceful...'

Just as Grimoire was finishing his thought, a growling noise filled the air. He stopped, and looked around.

"Hello?"

To his left, a bush started rustling. Grimoire tensed himself, fearing the worst... when a small brown squirrel emerged. The squirrel was inexplicably carrying a balloon, which it blew up and shaped into a poodle, which it then offered to Grimoire.

"Uh... thanks." Grimoire said awkwardly.

The squirrel squeaked merrily.

Suddenly, a louder growl emanated from behind him. Grimoire about-faced only to be faced with a sight that was definitely not a balloon-toting squirrel.

Standing atop a nearby fallen tree was a Timberwolf. It was not a very big Timberwolf, but it was still a decent size, about half the height of a stallion (his head being up to the stallion’s chest), well-built, its body poised to attack, its teeth grinding together. It looked upon the don with eyes that could kill... and with sharp teeth that can kill.

"Oh, buck." Grimoire gulped. He forced a smile. "Hi there, little fella. You come here often?"

The Timberwolf barked loudly.

"Uh…” Grimiore began to sweat a bit. “Are you sure you don’t want the squirrel?”

Suddenly, a nut hit Grimoire on the head.

“Ow!” Grimm rubbed his head, glaring at the squirrel who was chattering angrily at him.

The Timberwolf then leaped down from the tree, and approached Grimm menacingly.

“Keep back..." Grimoire frowned, wishing he had thought to bring his crossbow, “I’m warning ya.”

The timberwolf only snorted in response.

With no other options, Grimoire unleashed a bolt of magic. Unfortunately, the Timberwolf dodged it with a simple side-step.

"Okay..." Grimoire blanched. “I can’t believe I’m doing this but...” With a whoop-whoop-whoop, Grimoire suddenly turned and ran back to the mansion, the Timberwolf darting off in hot pursuit. The Timberwolf's speed was something to behold; It almost caught up to Grimoire more than once, the Bitalian stallion feeling its rancid breath right behind him.

As he finally reached his destination, Grimoire passed through the invisible forcefield without a problem. But when the Timberwolf tried to follow, it collided with a wall of green energy, and bounced off it.

"How do ya like that?!" Grimoire breathlessly taunted the Timberwolf. "No pony meat for you, redwood rover!"

The Timberwolf placed a paw on the forcefield, getting a small zap in return. Undeterred, it growled at Grimoire one more, and started pacing around the perimeter.

"Fine, be that way." Grimoire scoffed. "But you're not getting in either way."

Grimoire hurried back into the mansion, while the Timberwolf continued its vigil.

A couple of hours later, Grimoire decided to check if the Timberwolf was still there. To his dismay, it was.

"Oh, come on." He cringed. "Don't you have anything better to do then try and make lunch out of a middle-aged stallion like me?"

"Rarrf!" The Timberwolf snapped its jaws.

“Please, why don’t you go and waste your time else-” Grimm trailed off as he glanced at the timberwolf, noticing something off about it.

The wolf was limping. Against his better judgment, he moved in for a closer look. The Timberwolf growled lightly, which was followed by ragged breathing. It looked like it was weak, tired, exhausted. Up close, Grimoire saw a crack in one of its hind legs. Of course, he hadn't had the time to notice all that when he was running from his life, but now, he was starting to feel something other than fear.

"You're hurting, aren't you?" You asked.

The Timberwolf growled in defense... but Grimoire could detect a bit of a whine in it.

"Poor thing." Grimoire sighed. "Suddenly, you don't seem like such a vicious killing machine..."

"Rrrrrrrr..." The Timberwolf growled irritably, as if its honor had been insulted. "Rr... rrr... rr..."

The Timberwolf suddenly collapsed. It struggled to get up, but couldn't. It let out a plaintive howl. Despite the fact that it had been chasing him not long ago, Grimoire felt a twinge of compassion for it. He knew he couldn't just leave it there to die.

"Oh, jeez..." He groaned. "I know I'm going to regret this..."

Using his magic, Grimoire shut of the forcefield. He pulled over a nearby wheelbarrow, then brought over some vines, wrapping them around the Timberwolf's mouth as a precaution. He gingerly eased the Timberwolf into the barrel. The beast snarled weakly.

"Easy." Grimoire patted its head lightly. "I'm trying to help you, here."

Grimoire pushed into the wheelbarrow into the mansion. Once inside, he looked through the medicine cabinet, which contained all of Zecora's natural remedies.

"Come on..." He frowned. "There's got to be something here..."

Grimoire picked up a bottle of green salve, which he had seen Zecora use to fix a crack in a tree.

"That might work." He shrugged.

Grimoire brought the bottle over to the Timberwolf.

"Okay, this may sting a little." He unscrewed the bottle. "Or not. I'm not sure if you Timberwolves feel pain like ponies do..."

Grimoire poured a generous amount of the salve over the Timberwolf's cracked hind leg. The salve was like glue, thickly covering the crack. The Timberwolf cocked his head quizzically. Tentatively, it put some weight on the leg, which quivered, but held up. The Timberwolf looked at Grimoire, an odd look on its face.

"There you go." Grimoire smiled. "Now, how about some water?"

Grimoire filled a bowl of water for the Timberwolf.

"Okay, now I'm going to remove the vines." He said warily. "Don't even think about biting me, okay?"

The Timberwolf stared at Grimoire indiscriminately as he slipped the vines off. Grimoire then gingerly nudged the bowl over. The Timberwolf leaned down, and stuck out a leafy tongue. It started lapping up the water.

"Okay." Grimoire nodded. "You just go and enjoy that..."

The Timberwolf finished the water, then stared intently at Grimoire.

"...What?" Grimoire frowned, leaning in by the smallest amount.

The Timberwolf leant its head forward, slightly nudging Grimoire.

"...You're welcome." Grimoire tentatively reached out and patted the Timberwolf's head. "Now, you just stay here until you feel better, okay?"

The Timberwolf lowered its head, curling up on the floor.

At that moment, Zecora returned home.

"I am here, my dear." She called, carrying bags full of supplies. "Forgive my lateness over passing over the welcome mat, I was just-" Zecora spotted the Timberwolf. "WHAT IS THAT?!"

"A Timberwolf." Grimoire shrugged. "What, you've never seen one before?"

"Of course I have, Grim." Zecora growled. "And I must ask, what are you doing with him?"

"The poor thing was hurt." Grimoire shrugged. "I couldn't just leave him out there."

"That you should." Zecora growled. "For it belongs out in the wood."

"But it could have died out there." Grimoire countered.

"Perhaps it would have been best." Zecora declared. "It's called 'survival of the fittest'."

"Excuse me?" Grimoire asked.

"It is dangerous to keep such a beast." Zecora declared. "Regardless of health, it must be returned to the east."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I won't be doing that." Grimoire growled. "This big fella needs help, and that's just what I'm going to give it to him."

"Fine, so be it." Zecora frowned. "On your head, this will sit."

"Look, I know this is pretty risky." Grimoire admitted. "I'll make a little enclosure for it, so it doesn't get out. Not that it'll matter. Poor thing's got a hurt leg."

"And what of when it heals?" Zecora asked. "Then it will make us into meals!"

"I don't think so." Grimoire looked at the Timberwolf. "There's something about this fella that I'm starting to trust."

"Grim, I admire your compassionate side." Zecora admitted. "I just hope it won't end up biting you in the hide."

That evening, Grimoire went to work on building the enclosure, which Zecora had insisted be made in the back yard, constructing a fenced-off area around the Timberwolf.

"Sorry about this, big fella." He apologized. "Just a precaution, you understand?"

The Timberwolf looked up from another bowl of water, its expression passive.

Grimoire completed the fence.

"Well, goodnight." He waved.

The Timberwolf tilted its head again, whining slightly.

Grimoire went upstairs to bed. Unfortunately, Zecora, still unpleased about having a Timberwolf in the house, was giving him the cold shoulder.

The next morning, Grimoire went down to check on the Timberwolf.

"Hey, big fella." He smiled, carrying two bowls. "I got you some more water. And a little plant food, in case you're hungry."

The Timberwolf struggled to stand, its hind leg still not completely healed.

"Easy there." Grimoire urged, placing the bowls down on the floor. "Don't push yourself. Just relax."

The Timberwolf sniffed the plant food for a moment, then started eating.

"That's it." Grimoire smiled. "Chow down."

Once the Timberwolf finished, it started to yawn.

"Little bored, huh?" Grimoire asked. "Maybe I can help with that."

Grimoire briefly exited the room, then came back with a plastic mop handle.

"How about a chew toy, big fella?" He offered.

The Timberwolf eagerly snapped up the handle in its jaw, chewing mightily.

"It's a little long, though." Grimoire mused. "Let me take it back, and cut it down to size."

"Rrr..." The Timberwolf growled, as Grimoire reached for it.

Grimoire stepped back a little, and the Timberwolf continued chewing. Grimoire tried reaching for the handle again and again, with the same results.

"Rrr, rrr, rrr, rrr, rrr... Rrr, rrr, rrr, rrr, rrr..." The Timberwolf growled in rhythm with Grimoire's movements.

"Okay, fine, keep it." Grimoire shrugged.

As Grimoire made to leave, he noticed the Timberwolf's appearance once more. He had once seen a picture of a Timberwolf, and saw some considerable differences between it and his guest. The Timberwolf before him seemed... rougher, its body covered in small scratches and gnarled wood, like a particularly old tree. And now that he thought about it, he recalled reading a snippet that said Timberwolves hunted in packs. But this one was alone.

That night, Grimoire got into bed with Zecora.

"I just realised something." He declared. "That Timberwolf seems kind of... old. And when I first ran into him, he was all by himself. They don't usually do that, do they?"

"Not often, I must say." Zecora admitted. "From what I can tell, the Timberwolf was most likely a former alpha who was thrown out of his pack after being ousted from his position one day. A younger, fitter pup would have ensured his time as alpha was up."

"Geez, really?" Grimoire frowned. "Poor thing..."

"Save your sympathy, my dear." Zecora frowned. "It is simply the way of things out here."

"I can relate." Grimoire frowned. "I always used to worry that I'd be ousted from my position as don by some young upstart. And that poor fella down there just lived my worst nightmare."

"If he was too old to protect his pack, than he deserves to suffer an attack." Zecora declared. "Unlike the world of organised crime, nature has its own reason and rhyme."

"Yeah, I guess so..." Grimoire sighed. "Good night, 'Cora."

"Good night." Zecora kissed him. "Sleep tight.

Over the next few days, Grimoire kept up the routine, bring the Timberwolf food and water every day. Over time, the Timberwolf showed more appreciation to its caregiver, and Grimoire gradually grew used to its presence, feeling proud that his guest was growing stronger every day. One afternoon, Grimoire brought the next serving. The Timberwolf barked in welcome, the well-chewed mop handle lying beside it, virtually forgotten.

"Happy to see me, big guy?" He asked. "Or is it the food?"

Grimoire set down the bowls, and the Timberwolf started eating.

"You know what you need?" Grimoire said suddenly. "A name. I can't just keep calling you 'big fella', can I? But what should it be?" He thought for a moment, and then it came to him. "Hey, how about 'Oakley', after my aunt Oakley? Boy, was she a wild one..."

The Timberwolf stuck out its leafy tongue, licking Grimoire's hoof.

"That sounds like a 'yes' to me." Grimoire chuckled. "Hey there, Oakley."

The Timberwolf barked lightly.

That night, Grimoire gave Zecora a progress report, including the christening.

"You gave it a name?!" Zecora yelled. "Are you insane?!"

"What's wrong with giving him a name?" Grimoire shrugged.

"Because you're growing attached to it." Zecora sighed. "One day, you'll let your guard down, and then you'll get bit."

"Not likely." Grimoire smirked. "I'm telling you, Oakley's really starting to warm up to me. He actually licked me today."

"More like tasting you." Zecora frowned. "He'd love some Grim stew..."

"You don't know him like I do." Grimoire retorted. "I'll admit, I used to think Timberwolves were vicious beast with terrible breath, but watching Oakley these past few days, I've realized that they're really noble and majestic creatures."

"You don't know them like I do." Zecora echoed his words. "They are savage curs, rabid beasts, destructive monsters. That much is true."

"Yeah, well I'm not seeing it." Grimoire said stubbornly. "Maybe if you spent some time around Oakley, you'd see for yourself."

"I am not going anywhere near that mutt." Zecora growled. "No ifs, ands, or even a but."

"Come on, 'Cora." Grimoire urged. "Just give him a chance. I'll be right beside you. It'll be fine."

"Very well, I'll do it." Zecora huffed. "But you'll be sorry if I get bit."

"Never gonna happen." Grimoire smiled. "Trust me."

The next morning, they went down to the enclosure, Zecora sticking close to Grimoire. As they entered, they saw that Oakley was walking, his wounded leg finally healed. Before they could react, Oakley leapt at Grimoire, pinning him to the floor.

"Grim!" Zecora gasped. "You beast, get off of-"

Grimoire's laughter cut Zecora off, for Oakley was licking Grimoire.

"It's okay, 'Cora!" Grimoire chuckled. "I'm fine! I told you Oakley liked me!"

"Either way, the beast is mended." Zecora declared. "Now he must return to the forest, as nature intended."

"But I-" Grimoire started.

"Your good deed is done." Zecora said firmly. "Now... to the forest, ‘Oakley’ must run."

"I don't know." Grimoire frowned. "He doesn't look quite back to peak health to me. Maybe he should stay a few more days..."

"The wild is where he belongs, Grim." Zecora retorted. "You must do what's best for him."

"I guess you're right." Grimoire sighed. "Come on, Oakley."

Grimoire led Oakley out of the mansion, to just beyond the boundary of the inactive forcefield.

"There it is." He said mournfully. "Your home. See ya around, big guy."

Oakley didn't budge an inch, despite his proximity to the forest. He showed no sign of wanting to leave.

"I don't think he wants to go back." Grimoire observed.

"But he must depart!" Zecora turned to Oakley. "Go! Get! Into the forest's heart!"

Oakley whined lightly, then nudged Grimoire.

"I think he wants to stay." Grimoire smiled, patting Oakley on the head.

"Absolutely not!" Zecora growled. "Don't make me give him wood rot!"

"Come on, dear." Grimoire pleaded. "You can see for yourself that he's harmless now!"

"But how can you be so sure, eh?" Zecora asked. "What of our foal, our baby? Can you trust that beast not to make it a feast?"

"Now you're just being paranoid." Grimoire said stubbornly. "Look at Oakley. He hasn't tried to eat me, or even you, since he came out of the enclosure. I think he's tame now."

"Oh, for the love of-" Zecora cringed exasperatedly.

"You're just a big ol' puppy now, aren't you?" Grimoire scratched Oakley behind the ear, causing him to pant loudly, and his leg to spasm. "And if you want to stay, who am I to argue?"

"Suit yourself." Zecora growled. "Feel free to risk your health. But if you think I will want anything to do with that cur, you have the wrong mare."

Zecora stomped back into the mansion, furious.

"Ah, don't mind her." Grimoire petted Oakley. "She'll come around."

Oakley barked jubilantly, and licked Grimoire again.

Over the next couple of days, Grimoire spent a lot of time with Oakley (to Zecora's dismay). At one point, he tried to teach him to fetch.

"Okay boy, go get it!" Grimoire flung a pinecone into the bushes outside the mansion.

"Arf!" Oakley leapt into the bushes after it, bringing back... a Unicorn servant, his horn in Oakley's mouth.

“Oh boy...” Grimoire blanched. “Oakley, drop it!”

Oakley did as he commanded, dropping the servant.

“Ugh, you got spit all over him.” Grimoire grimaced, before turning to the servant. “Sorry about that. We’ll have to work on Oakley's recognition skills...”

"I don't get paid enough for this." The servant sighed.

Later that very evening, Grimoire was sitting in the lounge, relaxing, when Oakley entered the room. Oakley walked over to Grimoire's chair, and curled up beside it. Grimoire stroked his head gently with his hoof. Zecora walked past the room, glanced at the scene, then turned away, scoffing.

"This nonsense has gone too far." Zecora muttered to herself. "Time to get some help ridding this house of this wolf of cedar..."

A couple of days later, Grimoire heard a knock at the door. He was surprised to see Murray, Salt and Slot there.

"Hey, guys." He smiled. "What brings you here?"

"I'm sorry to say this isn't a friendly visit, Grim." Murray declared.

"Pardon?" Grim frowned.

"We're here to talk about a certain new addition to this household." Salt added.

"And there it is." Slot frowned, as Oakley padded over to appraise the new arrivals. "Boy, Zecora wasn't kidding about it being ugly."

"Zecora?" Grimoire frowned, glancing at his wife, who was standing nearby.

"Forgive me, my boo." Zecora sighed. "I called in my brothers to talk some sense into you."

"Grim, what are you thinking?" Murray asked. "You can't just adopt a wild animal from out in the Forest!"

"To be honest, I think he adopted me." Grimoire petted Oakley fondly.

"Don't you know how savage Timberwolves are?" Salt added. "What if it’s just biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce?"

"You sound just like Zecora." Grimoire scoffed. "If Oakley wanted to attack me or Zecora, he would have done it by now."

"Yeah?" Slot snorted. "Well, what do you think'll happen if you're late with lunch? He probably won't hesitate to chow down on you."

"You don't know that." Grimoire retorted. "Oakley and I... we have a bond. I saved him, and earned his loyalty."

"He's not even a living thing!" Murray declared. "He's just a bunch of wood held together by some sort of backwoods magic!"

"No to mention he stinks like a swamp." Slot gagged.

"He can't help the way he smells." Grimoire frowned. "He's made out of moss and wood, what do you expect?"

"I bet it's thinking of eating us right now." Murray frowned.

“Hey, you don’t know that.” Grimoire defended. “I like to think Oakley is capable of equine thoughts, just like us.” He turned to Oakley, “Right, boy?”

'Exactly.' Oakley thought. 'Most ponies think they are the only creatures around this Forest capable of cogent thought. Just because I don't speak the way they do doesn't mean I am not as intelligent. I swear, it's as annoying as a termite in your tailbone... Especially those young whippersnappers... Darn kids, running around in my Forest, making all that noise when I'm trying to sleep... What are their parents teaching them, anyway?'

“Think about your kid, Grim.” Murray gestured to Zecora, “Do you honestly want this thing living in your house when the baby comes?”

“Not just his kid, what about mine?” Salt glared at the beast. “I do not want him in the delivery room, spawn camping my wife!”

“Now you are all just being ridiculous!” Grimoire scoffed. “They don’t allow animals in delivery rooms!”

“And what about the other kids? Pureblood, Vito, Hurricane, and Michael? Are you so confident in this beast that he won’t see them, especially little Mikey, as walking drumsticks?!” Slot asked.

"Alright, that's enough!" Grimoire yelled. "Do you think I'm stupid, or something? Because it sounds like you're saying I don't know when an animal's dangerous or not. You all trusted my judgment running the mafia, so why don't you trust it now?"

"Because this is a different thing entirely." Salt declared. "Running the mafia is different than keeping a savage, bloodthirsty beast in your house."

"He is not bloodthirsty!" Grimoire yelled.

"Okay, okay." Murray sighed. "Let's say for the sake of argument that Oakley isn't going to eat anypony. Do you really think you have what it takes to take care of a Timberwolf? I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure it takes specialist knowledge."

"Well, I happen to know the address of a specialist." Grimoire shot back. "That Fluttershy mare Zecora told me about once knows about all sorts of animals. I'll bet she'll know how to properly care for a Timberwolf."

"You're really doing this, aren't you?" Slot cringed. "Have you gone senile, or something?"

"He's not that old, Slot." Salt prodded him. "Unfortunately, since senility would explain a lot about this..."

"Grimoire, please see sense." Zecora pleaded. "It would be a mistake to continue hence..."

"Zecora, I don't know what hurts the most." Grimoire said coldly. "The fact that you don't trust me, or that you went behind my back and tried to get my brothers to gang up on me."

"It was for your own good." Zecora tried to defend her actions. "It's not you I don't trust, but that wolf of wood. Especially with our child."

"Well, too bad." Grimoire frowned. "Because he's here to stay." He gestured to Oakley. "Come on, boy. We're going for a walk."

The brothers watched as Grimoire and Oakley left the mansion, Oakley throwing them a dirty look as he passed by.

"Somehow, I imagined that turning out better." Murray deadpanned.

"I don't get it." Slot shook his head. "What is wrong with him?"

"No clue." Salt shrugged. "Let's just hope he's right about that thing not being dangerous."

"Hope is a luxury I cannot afford." Zecora declared. "Grimoire must get rid of that walking board."

As angry as Grimoire was at his brothers' meddling, there were one suggestion of theirs he took to heart; Taking Oakley to a specialist. As they walked along the path to Fluttershy's cottage, the other animals ran from Oakley.

Grimoire knocked on the door.

"Hello?" Fluttershy opened the door.

"Hi." Grimoire smiled. "I hear you're good with animals. I need a little advice on taking care of a-"

At that point, Fluttershy spotted Oakley.

"Timberwolf!" She shrieked. She rushed back into the house, slamming the door behind her.

"Hello?" Grimoire knocked again. "I could really use your help here!"

"Go away!" Fluttershy yelled from behind the door. "Nopony's home!"

"Okay, so she's not a total animal specialist." Grimoire frowned. "Ah, who cares? I've got this anyway. Right, Oakley?"

"Ruff!" Oakley barked loudly.

"That's my boy." Grimoire chuckled, stroking him. "I don't need no specialist to take care of you."

For the next few days, things were calm. Zecora still wasn't pleased with Oakley's presence, refusing to even be in the same room with him, and insisting he be kept outside at night. Grimoire was angered by his wife's stubbornness, but decided to live with it, hoping she would come around eventually. However, it didn't look likely, as Zecora continued to avoid Oakley like the plague.

One afternoon, after making a run into Ponyville to pick up some quills, Grimoire returned to the mansion. He had left Oakley to play in the back yard, while Zecora had gone to the market. As he entered with a whistle, he suddenly found a crossbow pointed straight at his head.

"Sorry for dropping in unannounced, Grim."

“What the-” Grimoire turned... only to be faced with Zebediah. “Zeb? What the-what the buck is this?”

"Oh, not much." Zebediah shrugged. "We were just in the neighborhood, hoping we could speak with you..."

"We?" Grimoire frowned.

"Yeah, we."

From either side of Zebediah came two others. Grimoire recognized both of them.

The first of Zebediah's cohorts was a Unicorn stallion with a slicked-back, blonde mane, blue eyes, and a Cutie Mark of a sinister mask. His name was Rhys Purge.

“Long time no see, Grimbo.” Rhys smiled snidely. “It has been a while.”

“Oh, Faust, not you again.” Grimm groaned.

Rhys was from a mafia based in Blighty who had this idea for dealing with the crime rates of his country by inventing ‘The Purge’, a night of which all crimes would be legalized and no emergency services would be available. Rhys claimed it was for diminishing the unemployment and crime rates, however, many knew that it was just a psychotic idea coming from an equally psychotic pony. His idea tanked when he suggested it to his home government. Grimoire couldn’t blame them, it sounded like an idea from a mediocre sci-fi horror movie, coming from a bunch of ponies who like to dress up in creepy masks and actually frolic around a house they were trying to break into one time.

Even after their ‘idea’ failed, Rhys continue to fight for it. Even going on to adopt the slogan ‘Let us purge’, much to everyone’s annoyance.

“I was hoping to drop by your place back in Bitaly, but then old Zebby here was kind enough to lead me to your new address.” Rhys sneered.

“Zeb...” Grim glared at Zebediah.

"Sorry." Zebediah shrugged.

“Hey, don’t forget about me.” The other pony stepped forth.

He was an orange Earth Pony stallion with a gray mane, brown eyes, and a Cutie Mark of a pair of tongs. His name was Tong, and he was a member of the Chineighse mafia (though not the same as that of Kong’s). While his Cutie Mark suggested a benign talent, it was actually a symbol of his signature move: using a pair of salad tongs to pluck out the eyes of his victims. It was because of this gruesome method of murder that Grimoire and his brothers often gave him a wide berth, not that it stopped him from crossing paths with them.

“Been a while, Grim boy.” Tong chuckled.

"Not long enough, Tong." Grimoire snarled. "What are you all doing in my home?!"

"Well, Grim, it’s simple…we're here to harvest you." Tong declared.

"'Harvest'?" Grimoire frowned.

“Looks like a certain don has not been keeping up with the times in mafiadom.” Rhys smiled sinisterly. “You, sir, have become a very valuable stallion…”

“Yeah, ever since you left on this ‘sabbatical’ of yours, you had become easy picking on the hit list.” Tong explained. “As of now, you are worth millions of bits, maybe a billion.”

“Millions?” Grimoire repeated... before he gave an annoyed look at Zeb. “So you are seriously betraying me for money again? Have you not learn your lesson the last time you did this?”

“I’m sorry, bro, but our base needs a new roof.” Zebediah sighed, “Don’t worry, we’re not going to kill you. We’re only going to take a few pieces of you.”

"You wouldn't believe how much a single leg of yours would get us." Tong grinned.

“Hey, I bet even locks of your mane goes for about a couple hundred bits a piece.” Zebediah smiled.

“None of you guys are going to get away with this!” Grimm glared, “My brothers-”

“Are off in town, far away from this isolated dump you call a mansion.” Rhys sneered. “You really should have picked a better spot to live.”

"Well, I..." Grimoire tried to come up with a witty retort, but came up empty. "I got nothing?"

“How about we take this to the dining room?” Tong gestured to said room, “Gives us more room to lob off his body parts.”

The trio dragged Grimoire into the kitchen. Outside, Oakley froze, as he peeked through the kitchen window, seeing his master led into the kitchen by three strangers

'What's this?' He frowned. 'This doesn't feel right...'

Soon, the three stallions had Grimm tied to a chair (with some rope that Tong brought), as the captors prepped their tools.

"So, how are we gonna do this?" Zebediah asked.

"I say we make it nice and simple." Rhys smirked.

"Because you're all about simple, aren't you, Rhys?" Grimoire snorted. "Like that 'Purge' plan of yours. Not just the plan but the execution. All the crimes you and your gang could commit under a ‘Purge’, and you could only think of murder."

"Hey, murder was the thing we did best." Rhys defended himself.

"Too bad you can't say the same about other things." Grimoire sneered. "From what I hear, you're not much of a 'lady killer' in bed... You don't have the right tools, they say."

Zebediah and Tong started laughing.

"Shut up!" Rhys yelled. "Just shut up!"

"Jeez, somepony's sensitive." Zebediah snickered.

“Let’s get this over with.” Tong pulled out his salad tongs.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this, Zeb.” Grimm sighed in frustration, “While I expect this from you... why those two?”

“Eh, they're the only guys who don't know me well enough to actually consider working with you.” Zebediah shrugged. “Sorry, pal, it’s nothing personal-”

“Just business, I know the drill.” Grimoire frowned. “Doesn’t make this situation any more feasible.”

“Don’t worry, Grim, I will be sure to only take parts you can live without. Maybe a ear or a tooth.” Zebediah gave a small smile, “Would it make you feel better if I do that dance thing and sing ‘Stuck In the Middle With You’ from Reservoir Diamond Dogs when I do it?”

“…A little.” Grimiore admitted.

“Okay then.” Zebediah pulls out a knife and was about to break into dance, “Let’s do this th-”

"Hold on." Rhys stopped Zebediah. "Why go through all the mess and trouble to take a couple chunks of flesh from this guy when we could just kill him and take his body back for an easy bil?”

“What?” Zebediah frowned.

“You do have a point, Rhys.” Tong smirked evilly. “I mean, I pull eyes out for a living, but I prefer to keep my kills clean.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Zebediah step between them. “We agreed that we would just take a ear, a leg, a couple of teeth and one of his nuts.”

“Erk.” Grimoire cringed, instinctively crossed his back legs in response to the last one.

“No, you said that.” Rhys pointed out. “Why settle for a measly one hundred thousand, when we can make ten times that much?!”

“Yeah, I mean, this operation was your idea.” Tong pointed his tongs at the zebra.

“He’s my friend, guys!” Zebediah protested. “I may be a back-stabber, but I don’t actually ‘stab’ ponies in the back! His brother died that way!”

"You got a problem?" Rhys snarled. "Then you can die with him!"

Zebediah clammed up, his cowardice overriding his morals.

"Typical Zeb." Grimoire sighed. "No spine at all."

"So we're agreed, then?" Rhys smirked. "Full-on kill!"

"Just so long as I get to pluck out his eyes." Tong snapped his salad tongs menacingly. "It's kind of my thing."

"Let us purge!" Rhys repeated.

"Will you stop saying that all the time?" Zebediah cringed. "It's so annoying!"

"I agree." Tong nodded. "It was amusing at first, but got really old after a hundred more goes."

"Whatever." Rhys snorted. "Let's just do this, already."

"...Sorry, pal.” Zebediah sighed, as he pointed his crossbow at him.

"I don't blame you." Grimoire declared. "This is just who you are."

"If it's any consolation, I'll remember you fondly." Zebediah pledged.

"Enough talk." Tong growled. "Let's do this."

"Oh, yeah." Rhys smirked. "Pay dirt."

Suddenly, with a savage howl, Oakley jumped in from out of nowhere onto the table.

“HOLY BUCK!" The trio screamed.

"Atta boy, Oakley!" Grimoire cheered.

“What the buck is that?!” Tong gaped.

“Um, Grim? When did you get a dog?” Zebediah glanced at Grimm nervously.

"Not so long ago." Grimoire shrugged. "Picked him up from the local Timberwolf shelter."

Oakley leapt at Rhys and Tong.

"Take this, ya mutt!" Rhys blasted Oakley's leg to pieces, but the pieces reassembled themselves. "Oh, lord..."

Tong leapt on Oakley's back, trying to wrestle him.

"Where are your eyes?" He snapped his tongs. "I can't work with those glowy things!"

Oakley bucked Tong off, then pounced On Rhys, chomping down on his leg.

"AHHH!" Rhys yelled. "Make it stop, make it stop!"

"Sorry, I haven't taught him how to stop." Grimoire sneered.

With a loud snap, Oakley broke Rhys' leg.

"YAAAHHH!" Rhys yelled.

Satisfied, Oakley turned to Tong, and leapt on him.

“Zebediah, help me!” Tong begged, trying to push the wolf off him, but to no avail.

Zebediah glanced at the wolf nervously, as Oakley then glared at him.

“Go ahead, Zeb.” Grim sneered, “Try to help him. Let’s see how that turns out.”

Zebediah stood there for a moment.

"To quote a famous song, ‘Buck This Slop, I’m Out’." He declared, before turning and running out the front door.

"Hey, get back here!" Rhys yelled.

"You utter coward!" Tong ranted. "The next time we meet, your eyeballs are mine!"

"Ta-ta, Zeb." Grimoire smirked. "See you at the next meeting."

Oakley dragged the injured Tong over to Grimoire, dropping him at his hooves.

"Good boy." Grimoire patted Oakley on the head.

Not long after, Zecora came home to find Grimoire in the kitchen, holding the two mafiosos at bow-point on a table, Oakley at his side.

"Grim..." Zecora gaped. "What is going on here? Please tell me, my dear."

“Oh, nothing much. Our old friend Zeb tried to use me to make a quick buck with these two, got cold hooves, these two wanted to kill me instead... nothing new really.” Grimoire shrugged.

"I see." Zecora frowned. "But it seems bad to me."

“It all turned out well in the end.” Grimm smiled. “Besides, I've dealt with worse in my time.”

Rhys tried to reach for his crossbow, but Grimoire grabbed his head, and slammed it against the table.

"Try that again, and I'll let Oakley break your other legs." He threatened.

Rhys stared at Grimoire over his bloody nose. Grimoire turned to his servants.

“See to it that these two are delivered to the boys in Bitaly and put in a deep pit.” Grimm ordered.

“Right away, sir.” The servants bowed as they made to drag the two off.

"You won't get away with this, Napoleon!" Rhys yelled. "I'll get out eventually, and when I do... Let us purge!"

"Oh, will you shut the buck up!" Tong roared.

Oakley growled as the two were taken away.

"I must say, I am glad you are okay." Zecora embraced her husband.

“I am too...” Grimoire smiled warmly, before turning to Oakley. “But if it wasn’t for good Oak here, I would be a strung up carcass right now.”

"Oakley... saved you?" Zecora gaped. "Can this be true?"

"It sure is." Grimoire smiled. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. Like I told you, he's a good pup."

Oakley looked at Zecora.

"I... thank you, Oakley." She gingerly placed a hoof on his snout. "I was wrong. This I now see."

Oakley licked Zecora.

"See that?" Grimoire chuckled. "He likes you!"

"I can tell." Zecora deadpanned, drool running down her face. "Now can we please do something about the smell?"

Once the others heard about how Oakley saved Grimoire, they warmed up to him considerably.

"He really saved Grim?" Murray smiled, patting Oakley on the head. "Guess he's not so bad, after all...."

"Took on two of the baddest crooks around." Salt whistled. "Not bad, for a hunk of wood."

"He still stinks so." Slot declared, earning a growl from Oakley. "Hey, that's a natural fact, pal. Don't get mad at me if you don't like the truth."

A few nights later, Grimoire finished writing up his latest chapter, already lying in bed with Zecora.

'It's funny, really. I had always wanted a pet. Heck, I would have settled for a goldfish if I had to. But it seems that fate brought one to me. Not only is Oakley a loyal companion, he’s also a good friend, a cuddler, and easily the best damn guard dog I could ever ask for. To think, I would never have met him if it weren't for a case of writer's block. This chapter would have gone very differently, or even gone at all, without him. And now, we have a new member added to our flock…'

His work finished, Grimoire placed his book and quill on the bedside table.

"There, all done." He smiled. "Good night, darling."

"Good night to you, my dear boo." Zecora kissed him.

"Good night, Oakley." Grimoire declared.

Oakley was curled up at the foot of their bed. He panted happily, before laying down his head to sleep.

Grimoire flicked off the bedside lamp.

'Who knew a Timberwolf could be a stallion's best friend?' He idly wondered to himself, just before he fell asleep.

'Who knew a pony could be a Timberwolf's best friend?' Oakley ponded, as he too fell asleep.

Comments

[danick]

So fluttershy dont fear a manticore or a cerberus, but fear a timberwolf, ok

In fact, how Gummy looks like today, he problably scary some ponies since he's a adult alligator now

[HolyCross9]

That's just simply OOC for Fluttershy especially since she's suppose to be specialized with dealing in wild animals, Timber Wolves included.

[LunaJack]

Fluttershy has no power over Timberwolves. Apparently, they are immune to the Stare.