Booster Bones vs. Mist Whisp - Winner: Booster Bones (by Default)
Booster Bones vs. Mist Whisp - by Booster Bones' Author
That day, like any other day for the extraordinary detective Booster Bones, began with him hiding in the shadows of some trash can as he cast a critical eye on the townsfolk that passed by him. His hiding spot was perfect, since no one had yet discovered his location, even when the trashcan had been emptied and filled several times already with him still by it. In fact, he hadn’t moved from that very spot for days, but the payoff was too sweet to miss out on. It offered the view of the entire market square along with all the juicy gossip that poured through it like a river of knowledge where he was the lone fisherpony. Sure, he hadn’t exactly caught any fish, and anyone else would have surely have died of hunger at this point, but he was sure that eventually something would pop up. Something…
Illegally decisive to the very case he had been stuck on!
Booster’s ears shot up like a net when a few murmurs floated in the breeze into his grasp.
“Did you hear about the ghost haunting the town?” a mare with ample makeup but little beauty asked her companion.
“Oh, I believe so,” the other mare answered. “But apparently its dropped under the radar for the past week or so.”
“I heard it’d surprise random ponies and ask them a bunch of nonsense questions.”
“And how exactly is that a haunting?”
The dolled-up mare shrugged. “I’dunno. I heard it was super-annoying though. I heard that even the police were called but the ghost disappeared before they could get to the bottom of it.”
As the two mares passed on by, those very specific words reverberated in Booster Bone’s head: get to the bottom of it, the bottom of it, it… That’s it! His case he’s apparently forgotten about would surely have to involve what those two mares just said!
“A haunting, eh?” Booster said to himself, comforted by the suave yet rugged sound of his own voice. “That must be why I’m here. The police couldn’t do anything about this, which surely means that a private eye is operating in this neck of the woods. Yes, yes, it’s all coming back to me.” Booster took a drag on his cheap cigarette and nodded to himself, just as a stallion passing by accidentally knocked over the trashcan Booster was hiding behind, which completely passed through Booster’s spectral form. “A ghost can only mean trouble, and looks like trouble just gave me a VIP invitation to clock it to next Tuesday.”
Booster picked up a discarded banana that had gone right through his ghostly skull and squinted at it. “Unless it was Wednesday. Or Friday. Perhaps Monday? Wait, yeah, of course.” Booster scowled and shook the banana with a quiet fury in his hoof. “Mondays are the worse.”
Throwing away the rotten fruit peel and rising from the gutter of trash and used cigarette butts, Booster Bones inspected his surroundings. He was still in his stake-out area of a shadow-clogged alleyway filled with litter and discarded dreams—along with an ice machine that smelled kind of mildewy. Outside it was the market grounds. There, drenched in the unforgiving daylight, the ponies of this cutthroat town (it was a village Booster didn’t bother to remember the name of, but really, who cares) made about their day in solace and shifty looks. Oh yes, anyone of them could be the… was it a murderer? Thief? Carriage-jacker?
Booster knocked a hoof his temple and laughed. “Wait, no, it’s a ghost! Now I remember.”
Okay, so anyone in the market could be the phantom he was looking for. Each of them was guilty until proven guilty, Booster Bones knew this well enough, and even if he had to interrogate each and every one of them, he’d gladly be obliged. But where to begin…
“Children and elderly!” Booster said, a wicked grin spreading like wildfire on his cheeks. “Everypony knows that’s usually who did it. Also, the butler. But I’m pretty sure in this desolate abyss of hope and the absence of the sanctities of modern society, butlers would be nowhere to be seen.”
Already the shouts of the ghastly reached Booster’s ears. Checking for a peek from outside of his alleyway, Booster spotted a truly horrifying sight that sent shivers up, down, and side to side his phantasmal spine: foals playing hopscotch and laughing. Each of their skips and giggles was another twist of the knife into the back of all things treasured and righteous in this world. Each of those laughing, snot-nosed, little abominations could have been the ghoul he was after. No doubt their haunting had already corrupted this pimple on the oversized nose of society that was a town into a wart.
“But looks like the wart removing cream just came in,” Booster said, already sneaking up to the group of foolishly foul foal fiends. “And it’s extra-strength, antiseptic, twenty-four relief for ages twelve and up.” He was nearly upon them, and already the adrenaline of the case hit his unbeating heart in a surge of excitement. “And looks like you dastardly deviants aren’t the correct age. Too bad for you, there are no refunds on the unsightly facial oddity removing cream train!”
“What are you doing?”
Booster stopped in his tracks, immediate rage consuming his soul. “I’m trying to get some internal monologue down over here, goooooosh.”
Booster turned to confront the rude interrupter of foal-punishers and was met with a jackpot. It was a mare, but not just any mare! No, it was some crockety-looking old wench with a grey coat and a grey mane… or was it white? Eh, it didn’t matter. What really made a statement was the fact that her eyes were pale blue, almost with a glassy appearance on them. Booster had seen enough dead bodies—some caused by him both on purpose and by accident (mostly on accident)—to know those were the eyes to a stiff. Also, she had what was clearly a ghost cutie mark on her surprisingly youthful looking butt.
The ghostly apparition arched a brow at Booster, appearing much less crotchety and more like a disapproving random bystander than anything else. “Well, it looks like you were about to jump those foals over there instead.”
“Don’t you mean you were gonna jump those foals over there?” Booster asked. For added effect, he raised the stakes on the eyebrow game and gave it a go with a wiggle followed by a disgruntled frown.
She backed down to his challenge and merely sighed in content instead. “No, I mean you were quite literally sneaking up on those foals like you were going to pounce on them.”
“Aha, so you’ve revealed your mordo operambo!”
“You mean modus operandi?”
Booster pointed his trademark accusing hoof right in the mare’s muzzle. “So you admit it again! Double the proof, double the jeopardy! You’re gonna get it in the big house now, missy!” Booster took a long drag on his cigarette, blew some of the smoke obnoxiously in her face, and sighed in content for another job well done. “Dear Celestia’s sunny butt I’m good.”
The mare coughed and waved the smoke out of her face. “Whoa, what’s the big idea here?”
Booster cocked a grin. “The big idea is that I, Booster Bones, private eye extraordinaire, caught yet another criminal on the case!” He glanced down at his hoof and couldn’t help but chuckle. “And did it in record time, too. Less than five minutes from finally figuring out why I’ve been here for a week I already found the criminal. Or should I say, the crimin-apperation...spook...shade...banshee…” Booster coughed into his hoof and swallowed a seemingly out of nowhere lump in his throat. “It sounded better in my head, okay.”
The mare arched another brow—really, at this point she could build a bridge over his forehead with those things—and said, “Well, from my point of view, you appear to be the ghost, not me.”
Booster Bones guffawed. Then he snickered, followed by a hearty sneer and ending in an gut-clenching snort. “Me? A ghost? And how did you reach that conclusion, Miss Ghostly Ghostington from Ghostville, Ghostia?”
“Well, for starters, my name is Mist Whisp, not whatever…” she shrugged, “you just said. Secondly, I’m not see-through like you appear to be.”
“Oh, so you’re insulting me weight now, huh?” Booster said. He sniffled and looked down at his near skeletal appearance. “I mean, I could do for some added weight, but a private eye’s salary is pretty thin, and sometimes—”
“Listen,” Mist Whisp cut in, “can we move this along? I need to get back home. I’m planning to make some pancakes this morning and only came to the market to get some maple syrup.”
Booster’s downtrodden spirits picked themselves up from their roadkill endings and were breathed new life from the breath of divine mercy at the mere mention of the word ‘maple’ along with ‘syrup,’ but especially when in such close proximity to one another to spell ‘maple syrup.’
Eyeing the saddlebag to her side, Booster passed right through Mist, causing the mare to shudder and spasm uncontrollably from Booster’s ethereal touch. With a flick of his wrist Booster opened up Mist’s saddlebags and pulled out the prize inside: maple syrup.
Still shuddering, Mist shook her head and snapped out of her disgust. “What in the… hey, that’s my maple syrup!”
“Empty,” Booster said, turning the uncorked bottle and finding nary a single drop pouring out. “Just as I thought. I had heard reports from amongst the denizens of this crime ridden hovel that a syrup thief was on the loose. And it looks like that trail led right to the ghost all along.” Booster ripped his hat back and smiled as smug as ghostly possible. “Damn, I am super duper good.”
“First off, I bought that syrup. Secondly, you have syrup covering your mouth,” Mist pointed out. “Thirdly, and probably the most disgusting, there’s a puddle of syrup around your hooves, because apparently ghosts are both stupid and can’t even drink syrup! All that syrup, gone to waste because of you.”
“Whoa now, missy, are you accusing a federal officer of the law?” Booster asked, getting uncomfortably close to her both in a physical and spectral sense. “Because I’m not one of those guys. I’m private law.” Booster shrugged and backed up. “However, I don’t take kindly to unjust accusations.”
“I just saw you drink all the syrup.”
“Lies! Vile lies and slander!”
“It’s still on your face!”
Booster wiped his stubble-covered muzzle, the sticky residue of the syrup still fresh on his cheeks. “That could have been anyone’s maple syrup.”
“It’s all over the ground around you.”
“What? Seriously?!” Booster eyed the syrup underneath his hooves and licked his lips. “Sweet! Five second rule!”
“Oh please no.” Mist closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as Booster went to town on the syrup like a dog to a water bowl on a hot day. However, whatever syrup Booster consumed just passed through his stomach and added back to the puddle once more. This process would have repeated until the end of time if Mist Whisp hadn’t just attempted to sneak away while Booster was busy. And by sneak away, she actually raced for her very life.
However, she only made it down the alleyway Booster had previously called his stake-out point before the ghostly nuisance himself popped out of a wall right by Mist’s head.
“Ahhhhh!” Mist screamed. She backed away from the wall as fast as her hooves could take it, but while simultaneously running this caused her to just trip all over herself and land in a heap of bruised limbs and an even more bruised dignity.
“Huh, that’s the first time a pegasus tried to cheese it without flying,” Booster noted over the pile of pain that was now Mist Whisp.
“That’s because I don’t know how to fly,” Mist muttered darkly. She was just getting back to all fours, still aching all over but nothing broken.
“How in the hell does a pegasus not know how to fly?”
Mist Whisp frowned. “I… was born in an underground village of pegasi. It’s cut away from the surface completely long ago—”
“And, like, no one was horrifically inbred over centuries of a low diversity gene pool?” Booster asked.
Mist Whisp shrugged. “I’dunno. Anyway, since we never had a sky to fly in we just depended on underground weather conditions instead, like mist, and over the years who even learned how to walk on water.”
“Wait… you can already fly. What possible use of walking on water could there be when you could just fly over it?” Booster asked, scratching the side of his cheek. “I mean, I can understand the walking on water bit being useful for nearly anyone else who doesn’t have wings, but even if you only have, let’s say, six feet of space, you could still just fly instead of walking on water.”
“Uh…” Mist Whisp blinked, and then coughed slightly. “Anyway, I lived there with my younger brother and parents, until one day some diamond dog attacked the village and—”
“Whoa, whoa, hold up now.” Booster raised a hoof. “I need to tell you this right here and right now to save us both some time: your life story sounds extremely boring, and I just can’t dig up the needed ‘damns’ to give some to you. I’m drastically low on ‘damns,’ it being a finite resource and all, so typically I try to keep my consumption low, and I definitely don’t want to blow on this very, very, very tedious angst-filled origins story.”
Mist Whip scowled at him. Her face was actually visibly becoming redder and redder the longer in Booster’s presence she remained.
“Anyway, since you’re the ghost that’s been terrorizing this town, I’ll have to put you in jail. Probably call an exorcist. Although they sure aren’t cheap…” Booster Bones hummed to himself and rubbed his maple-covered chin. “Eh, some holy water and a cheese grater would have to do.”
“But I’m not a ghost.”
“And I’m not the best detective in the entire world, but c’mon,” he flashed her a stunning smile on maple syrup coated teeth, “we both know that’s a lie.”
“I’m not going with you, and that’s final,” Mist Whisp said. And with that she took a step forward, physically passed through Booster once again with only minor goosebumps and indigestion, and made her way out of the alley.
“Oh no you don’t!” Booster cried out, attempting to grab onto her. Yet all his attempts were foiled since he just passed right through her.
After the third dozen or so tries, he just laid in a heap on the ground to give up. He had failed to apprehend his perp, he had failed to solve his case, and worst off—since it had now been approximately five minutes—he had failed to remember what his case was about in the first place.
Standing back up, he picked up his hat from his head and scratched his permanently ruffled mane. “Wait… what type of criminal was I chasing after again?”
An elderly mare passed right by him, taking no notice since she was fully focused on trying to feebly shuffle along using just her cane for support.
“Oh riiiiiiiiiight,” Booster Bones said, confident grin breaking out like acne on a pubescent colt on his cheeks. “The elderly are the criminals this time! Well, better get to work.”
Needless to say, the town’s ghost problem wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.
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Alright, so this didn't need a vote, but I was curious about how Booster would be portrayed by the author. Mist Whisp was a tough OC to play with if not handled carefully, given her xenophobia and her focus on getting home, but it was an entertaining story to read. Too bad we didn't see the other side of the coin on this one!
This doesn't need a vote indeed, but still. Mist Whisp was hard to write about without the entire story going around her life. I like how Booster Bones subverts the backstory bit.
Maybe a little too harsh on the poor Mint Whisp, but then again, that's probably in character with the ghost guy, so hey. Certainly one of the most interesting OCs in the contest, at least when it comes to originality. I would have liked to see one more story with this guy in this round.
We've been talking about this one FOREVER. Booster Bones, how could we not?
As it was, didn't really disappoint me. I think maybe there are a few sentences I would rewrite, but overall it was a lot of fun to read. Glad we're going to get another story in the next round.
Can we all just pause for a moment here to realize Round 1 is 90,000+ words long, and we have to read it all in one week?
It's in the featured box, by the way.
Ha! I actually liked this one quite a bit. Another really attention-grabbing OC gimmick, but it was used to good effect by its author, and it was funny when all was said and done, so I can't stay mad at it. I don't know what Mist Whisp's character profile looks like, but I like the way the author subverted making it the focus point, while still giving her a sense of personality. Bones still totally stole the show, though. And I have no problem with that.
6017914
"Maybe a bit too harsh"
No it wasn't. Whisp's backstory is DONUT STEEL tier.
That said, while I'm not crazy about this story, it did what it came to do and it did it well. It was wacky. It completely ignored the other person's character sheet, but whatever--they didn't show up with a story entry for their oh so awesome backstory.
There's an idea here. And it's a good one. (It's also clearly Darkwing Duck-inspired, but we'll let that slide. And if actually wasn't? I don't believe it. Read Booster's lines in that voice. It's DW. At least you went with PI, and thus had different tropes to play with.)
That being said, the execution isn't quite right. It's a little too much playing the fool and hanging the lampshades. And, while Mist's character is pretty bad, this piece is insulting to the character. Come on, have a little respect. You can take a bad idea and, even with a few jabs at how bad it might be, use it in a respectful manner. Any author who is just going to be a jackass to their peers is definitely losing some points with me.
All told, it's not bad, the idea is definitely here, I just think the execution could've used a bit more softer strokes.
Liked: The fact that Booster just doesn't get that he's dead. Or how to use words right.
Disliked: Most of the other jokes fell flat for me.
I feel like there's a fine line between poking at a few things that don't make sense in a character sheet and making fun of the character. Parts of this just felt like it was making fun of Mist Whisp's character sheet. That being said, I found the facts that he doesn't realize how terrible he is at being a detective or that he's dead to be very amusing.