Friends like these

by Istaran

Act 2 - Chapter 2: With and without storefronts

"I'm really not sure this is a good idea," Scott had said when he'd first seen the pills coming out of Flim and Flam's latest invention. For one thing, the device looked like it was built by Wile E. Coyote, which never boded well. For another, the pills themselves were probably highly illegal, or ought to be.

"No need to doubt us. Here, try a free sample. You'll see that they are perfectly harmless," Flim had said. Scott was finally able to keep them straight.

"Better than harmless, your health will improve quite a bit. No more back pain for you, my friend. And you'll see how great this idea really is!" Flam had said.

And when Scott had taken the pill, sure enough his back pain quickly faded, he was able to walk about more easily, and the greatness of the idea burned brightly in his consciousness. Why had he ever doubted them? "What do you call this miracle drug?"

"'Pirin' seems a most suitable name, don't you think? While we work on this batch, old chum, we need you to pick up some more materials for us. Nothing harmful of course! Just some more aspirin tablets," Flim had suggested.

"And some more snakes," Flam added. "And some mice to feed the snakes. And can you bring us back some more of those delicious 'French fries' from McDonald's? They're no hay fries, to be sure, but there's something about them. Mmm..."

The brothers supplied him with some bills, more than enough for what they were asking for, but they'd made quite clear they meant to take good care of their new 'friend', financially if nothing else. He'd probably spend a couple bucks on a hamburger for himself and give the rest back, as he tended to do. No need to be greedy about it.

Now, weeks later, the machine was in full production all day every day. After that one accident, he hadn't needed to get any more new snakes, though they still needed to be fed regularly of course. Scott spent much of the day tending the machine and making sure the snakes remained in good health. The machine would somehow extract some kind of oil from the snakes and use it to encapsulate ground up aspirin pills. When the physical manufacturing was done, the brothers did something to the pills with their horns, and then they were ready for sale.

Scott decided it was best he knew as little as possible about how exactly the Flim Flam brothers were marketing their snake oil pills. He'd gotten permission to take 'as many as he needed', so he took one whenever his brain started overthinking things and doubting the brothers' scheme. And poof! His doubts simply vanished. They also worked great for all his aches and pains. They healed that nasty snake bite he'd gotten surprisingly fast. (Poor Betsy had just gotten extra jumpy after laying her first clutch of eggs, Scott had realized afterwards. He'd let her skip the rounds in the machine after that until the little ones hatched.) The pills even cleared up his gassiness from all the junk food, once the brothers had suggest he tried taking it for that... funny how they hadn't solved that particular problem before the suggestion.

So he always kept a small bag of them on his person, both for his own use and to help out anyone in need.

Apparently that was why he was in the back of a squad car now.

"Do you mind if I have one of those pills? My back ache is coming back something fierce," Scott asked one of the officers. Also, his doubts about the brothers' plan were coming back. He really needed a pill for that. The officer gave him a pitying look but otherwise didn't respond.

The rest of the ride was quiet. At the station house they treated him sternly but not too badly as they processed his paperwork and got him into an interrogation room. He had to wait several minutes, staring at the one-way mirror and growing visibly more uncomfortable as his back pains continued to return. Finally, an officer came in and sat down across from him.

"Scott Jones. I'm John Capelli. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind?" the officer introduced himself.

"That's fine, but can I have one of my pills? My back ache is coming back," Scott answered.

"You mean these pills?" the officer said, setting the baggy on the table with a gloved hand, leaving it out of Scott's reach. "Do you know what's in these?"

"Snake oil and aspirin," Scott said matter of factly.

The officer's expression brightened. "And where did you get these pills from?" he questioned.

"A couple of unicorns gave them to me," Scott replied equally matter of factly.

The officer's expression darkened at that. "Unicorns?" he asked derisively.

"About a month ago, I took a bus ride to their magical land, where all the unicorns and pegasi and brightly colored talking ponies live. And I fed them soup from my bottomless soup can, and made some friends, and found the magic QR Code of Generosity, and used it to get back on the bus. But when I got home, there was a couple unicorns in my apartment, and we watched Breaking Bad together, and then they made this machine, and made me buy them some snakes to get the fresh oil to make these great pills. They're pretty great guys, but they make me handle all the snakes," Scott explained.

When all of the drug tests came back negative, they decided to lock Scott up for observation. But they never did return his pills. And so, his back ached horribly all night long. And he was starting to really, really question Flim and Flam's plan.

---

Welcome Smile laid in bed, looking up at the pointed tent of silky cloth above him, extending out to the four ornate posters in the corners and draping down. The whole thing was much too girly for his taste, but it was hard to complain. Especially since he didn't want to wake the mare lying on his right forehoof, pressed tightly against his side. So instead, he simply let his mind drift back to the night things had changed for him, so much for the better.

He remembered he had been so nervous, taking every opportunity to avoid speaking to her. She was his landlady, and he was flat broke, driven to poverty by strict adherence to a promise to help those who were already mired in it. He had been so certain the heiress would have harsh words for him at the very least, or at worst would repossess the shop that doubled as his home.

Silver Ladle had made him close down the shop, after they had both eaten, but it had only been for the night. She had taken him away, without proper explanation, to the upper reaches of Canterlot. Her neighborhood had been quite a bit worse for where... it didn't take too long to realize that the homes of many of her former neighbors had been broken into and occupied by squatters who took far less care of their new homes than the elites who had abandoned them, leaving them as mansions of squalor, a bizarre mashup of upper and lower Canterlot styles. Her own home was guarded now, and she had had a quick word with the guard on the way in, apparently about him.

The top floor office she had brought him too had intimidated him, especially with the paperwork laid out including a map with his shop circled. But they hadn't stopped in the office. She had led him out onto a balcony, and from there... the stars.

You couldn't see them properly from lower Canterlot. But from up here... he had seen the night sky before, of course, but he hadn't realized how different it was here in the low magic zone. It was... stunning. Normally, the night sky had so many stars it seemed a foals errand to try to count them, but you always thought maybe you could if you tried. It was easy to believe Luna arranged each one by hoof. But here... behind the larger, familiar constellations was an endless sea of tiny twinkling sparkles.

He had completely lost track of time, staring at the wondrous sight before he noticed Silver Ladle was pressed gently against his side. 'She smells nice' he had thought idly before he started to get an inkling of where things were going. "Why did you call me here?" he went ahead and asked.

"You're a very kind hearted and generous stallion," she had begun. "And I believe if you could do even more for the people of this city, you would. So.. I have an offer for you. I have some ideas on how to expand your restaurant so you can serve even more ponies, and I'm willing to put up the bits so that you can stay in business even with nopony paying. This is something Canterlot needs desperately right now, and you're the pony to lead up the effort... but not do it alone. But I do want something in return."

"I'd love to hear your ideas, of course. But what could I possible offer in return?" he had answered.

"I want you to let me court you. That means you'll have to take some time apart from your kitchen to spend with me, every single day. Is that too greedy of me?" she had asked. "I want to marry a stallion with a heart of gold, not one whose heart craves gold."

She had insisted there was no rush to be wed, but it had only taken them a few dates to change their minds on that. A month later, and here they were, with their wedding attire tossed on the ground beside her bed. He seemed funny to him now that he had ever feared her. Her father.. he had been a fearsome stallion, and he didn't know if he would have been able to dare to even ask his approval. Even now, the paintings in the halls of the late Iron Ladle, master chef turned restaurant tycoon, stared down at him as if to demand that he never hurt that dear beloved daughter, or let any harm befall her. Not that he needed the reminders. She was as precious to him now as she had been to her father.

Though he did worry about her sense when it came to bits. The overhaul to the soup kitchen was well thought out but expensive. They had several large pots now that they filled with soup from the magic can and kept hot with good old-fashioned fire, so it could simply be ladled out to customers, while one pony refilled whichever pot was getting lowest. She had bought the neighboring building to expand the seating area, and now had plans to retrofit the upstairs to more seating once he finished moving out his scant belongings. New employees served the increased number of customers, while a couple of lunar pegasi worked the night shift, cleaning out and then refilling the pots for the next day. The collection of bits had been streamlined to a simple donation box, though it had been designed to clink quite loudly when any bits were added, allowing her benefactors to bask in the appreciation of their neighbors, and the employees had led the way to establishing a tradition of cheering for any donation, even a single bit. But even still, the bits going out outpaced the bits coming in.

He hadn't objected when she had had the sign repainted, renaming the restaurant to 'Silver Ladle's Soup Kitchen'. He noted with a gentle smile that he heard her name randomly about town as he passed from work to his new home, ponies often simply referring to the place as 'Silver Ladle's'. It took him weeks before it dawned on him that that was what she was buying with her bits. Nopony knew the landladies of most of the businesses in town, but now everypony had some idea who Silver Ladle was. Everypony knew she was responsible for keeping more and more of the population well fed. With that much good will and recognition, she could easily run for a political office, but she wouldn't need to. If Silver Ladle told the mayor something needed to be done, her voice would carry the weight of all of her newfound clout.

He knew her well enough now to know that she was that devious. But he also knew her well enough to know she was only greedy about one thing. And as her eyes slowly opened, and locked onto his with a lustful grin, he decided it was just fine for her to be greedy about that.