OC Slamjam - Round One

by OC Slamjam

Mild Manners vs. Clue Seeker - Winner: Mild Manners (by Default)

Author's Note:

THE OFFICIAL CONTEST COMPENDIUM

Mild Manners vs. Clue Seeker - by Mild Manners' Author

It was a case like any other.

The client was Mild Manners, a student at Canterlot University. He was an earth pony. He arrived at my office door late that afternoon wearing a necktie, a tweed jacket, and a frown upon his face. He had a certain definition to his jawline that immediately pegged him as one of the “Canterlot Elite”, although his facial expression wasn’t quite as snooty as other ponies would have imagined an aristocrat would look.

He knocked, three times, sharp and brisk. Was he in a rush, or did he want to make a good impression?

As he entered my office and closed the door behind him, his hoof reached up and tugged at the collar of his jacket. He looked uncomfortable in tweed. He probably didn’t wear it very often. That made sense, then – he wanted to make a good impression.

I glanced around at my office. It was dusty, barebones, and existed in the middle of a downtown apartment complex. It was not an office owned by a member of the upper-class, in short.

The client must have realised this as well – his nose twitched a little bit as he took in my empty little office, although he tried very hard to hide it.

Mild Manners retrieved a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and cleared his throat into it. “Excuse me, sir?” he spoke, in a polite, friendly manner. “You are Private Detective Clue Seeker, yes?” He was smiling.

I smiled at him. “Yes, that’s me. I must infer that you are Mr Mild Manners, who arranged a meeting with me earlier today.”

As I spoke, Manners’ smile became more subdued. Had I slighted him, or made him uncomfortable? Or was it related to his issue? “That would be me.” He stepped up to my desk and stuck out his hoof. “I was told that you were very good at your job, Mr Seeker.”

I took his proffered hoof and shook it. “Yes, well, I–”

“Although you wouldn’t have known it, seeing the state of your office.” He laughed at that. I didn’t know whether he meant it as a joke or not. “I mean, for a moment there I thought I had been mistaken! I think it might have been the clothes.” He pointed at my coat with a look of plain distaste. “You should really try picking something a bit more professional. Ponies might take you more seriously, then. I mean, I already feel rather silly for wearing tweed, you understand.”

And with that, he sat down and smiled at me innocently. I decided, then, that I quite disliked Mild Manners.

“I see,” I responded. “Anyway, if we could get back on topic…”

“Oh, right, of course. I have an issue I need your assistance with, Mr Seeker.”

“I inferred as much.”

He chuckled. “Right. Now, my issue is rather... domestic. I’ve lost something important.” He paused.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Go on. What did you lose?”

“A dog,” he admitted, eventually, in one quick exhale of breath. Was he embarrassed about this?

“Did you lose it, or has it simply gone missing?” I asked.

“The latter,” he told me. “I went off to my classes this morning, and when I returned at around midday, it was gone.”

I sighed internally. “Did you leave the door open?”

He looked almost offended at that. “Of course I didn’t!” He managed to maintain the expression for approximately three seconds before it collapsed into general anxiety. “At least, I don’t think I did…”

“Right.” I got to my hooves. “Well, the only place I can think to look would be your apartment, Mr Manners, unless you can think of anywhere else?”

Manners got to his feet too, and gave me a smile that was not quite grateful but definitely relieved. “Sounds like a good plan of action to me, Detective. Follow me, it’s not a very long walk, I assure you.”

I couldn’t really think of anything else to say, so I simply opened the door for my client and tried not to dwell on the disappointment swelling in my chest.

Another day, another dog disappearance, it seems.

---

The walk to Mild Manners’ apartment was exactly as uneventful as I had imagined it would be.

The ten or fifteen minutes we spent walking to Manners’ place of accommodation was mostly spent in not-quite-awkward silence, spotted here and there with a halfhearted question regarding the case from myself and a few attempts at light conversation from Manners. Both lines of dialogue didn’t really go anywhere – the case seemed incredibly cut-and-dry, so there was little for me to ask about that wasn’t self-evident or irrelevant, and Mild Manners was also not somepony I particularly wished to speak to, so Manners tended to hold conversations with himself most of the time.

“Are you always like this?” he asked me, at one point.

I blinked. The question caught me off-guard. “What? Always like what?”

“I don’t know.” He peered at me. “Are you daydreaming? Or just distracted by some musings on esoteric philosophy? You’re quite distant, is what I’m saying.”

“I was just thinking about the case, Mr Manners. That’s kind of my job.”

He looked quite scathed at that. “Hey, come on, I just–” He paused, took a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice had regained that annoying, wrong-generation register. “Sorry, Detective. You are a professional, and I respect that.”

I grunted, and we continued on.

Eventually, as we drew closer to his apartment, Manners stopped, turned to me, and said, “Uh, just before we go inside…”

“Yes?” I responded. He looked a bit uneasy. Was there actually more to this than there seemed? Or was I just looking for something interesting to think about?

“You… will keep this whole ‘case’ between ourselves, won’t you? Is client confidentiality part of your, ah, modus operandi?”

I raised an eyebrow. “If you want me to. Are you hiding something from me, Mr Manners? Because we both probably want to sort this out sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, yes, sorry, I just… It’s nothing. Let’s go inside, shall we?” And with that, he cantered forward to the entrance to the building, urging me to follow suit with a somewhat synthetic smile.

We climbed the stairs at a brisk pace, up to the third floor. There was hardly anypony else around, so I assumed that they were taking their classes still. Nevertheless, Mild Manners ushered me into his apartment quickly, as if he didn’t want me to be seen. Or maybe he

Mild Manners’ apartment was, to say the least, not what I had expected. There was soft, white, fluffy carpet padding the floor, and the room itself was larger than my office and apartment put together. A soft pink bed sat in the far corner, and the kitchen, dining area, and lounge made up the rest of the apartment, all of them polished and practically luxurious.

I sniffed the air. It smelled of… perfume?

“Strange taste in decor,” I commented, with a glance at Manners, who just gave me a rather nervous-looking smile that was probably intended to reassure, and did nothing of the sort.

“What can I say? Strange tastes for a strange pony, I suppose.” And he laughed. I waited for him to stop, then asked him to show me where the dog slept.

It took him a suspiciously long time to find the dog’s bed – it sat in one corner of the lounge, near a glass sliding door that led to the balcony. The bed was worn from years of use. A little food bowl before it had a name etched into it lovingly – “Maisie,” it said.

“Alright, now we’re getting somewhere.” I peered at the bed and shot a question to Manners over my shoulder. “What colour is Maisie’s fur?”

I could hear him pacing back and forth next to the dining table. “Um. Black, I think. It’s quite short and curly, too. Why?”

“There’s some of it here.” I lifted a hoof and prodded at a bit of curled black fur that had gotten caught on a nearby piece of furniture. It was the only hair I could see from a quick examination of the rest of the living area – even the bed itself seemed quite clean of dog hair for how lived-in it looked. “How often do you clean this place? It seems quite spotless.”

“Rather often, yes,” Mild said.

I took a quick sniff of the tuft of hair. It smelled and felt very fresh, still. “In that case…” I walked back to the front door and took a closer look at it. Lowering my head, I spotted another small tuft of hair caught in the doorframe. “Well, that solves that.”

“What?” I heard Manners get to his hooves. “I’m telling you, I didn’t leave the door open. It can’t have gotten out that way.”

“Did you lock the door?” I asked. “You didn’t when you left to come to my office. Might you have forgotten this morning, as well?”

He blinked. “Um.”

I scratched my chin. “Actually, a better question: does your dog know how to open doors?”

“Dogs can’t open doors. They’re dogs, not ponies.”

I gave him a blank look. “Dogs can learn how to open doors with handles, Mr Manners. I wouldn’t normally consider it, but I’m confident by now that you don’t know anything about this dog. It’s not yours, is it? Do you even own a dog?”

Manners shrank back a bit. “Well, I…”

“In fact, I’m also quite sure that this isn’t even your apartment.”

Mild Manners sighed. “Alright, alright, I get it. I lied. This isn’t my apartment, and we’re not looking for my dog.” He ran a hoof through his mane. “It’s my… friend’s dog. This is her apartment – she wanted to me to look after her dog for a day while she and her class are in Ponyville studying and working around some important apple farm. Something Apple Acres.”

I tried to avoid rolling my eyes at how he hung his head like a fallen hero. “Mr Manners, it’s not the end of the world. I doubt the dog has gone very far, and pet thievery is absurdly unlikely.”

He gave me a sour look. “I know. I’m as aware of the statistics as you are, Mr Seeker.” Mild Manners looked as if he was going to say something else, then just sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry if you believe I’m wasting your time, detective. I just… I panicked. Sunny is coming back any minute now, and I don’t want to imagine what would happen if she found out her dog disappeared.”

I chewed my lip absently for a moment. “Hm. How long has the dog been gone?”

He looked at me in surprise. “Oh, well, less than a hour, easily.”

“Let’s ask around and see if we can find it. There’s no reason for me to quit now, and I have a job to do.”

He smiled at me, then, a genuinely grateful one. “Thanks, Clue. I owe you one.”

“Thanks. Though, I really would prefer it if you didn’t call me Clue.”

“Fine. Let’s hurry now, chop chop!”

We left the apartment and hurried down the steps to the front door. I decided, then, that this might not have been a particularly interesting case, by any means, and while I still found that most of everything about Mr Mild Manners rubbed me the wrong way, I could at least concede, at this point, that he had good intentions. I felt optimistic, then, which was a pleasant surprise.

And in fact, we almost made it out the front door before everything went entirely wrong.

“Mild?” a demure voice called out. We froze. "Mild, what are you doing?”

We turned, slowly. A petite pegasus mare – a very noble-looking one, with a pale coat and that same telltale quality of the jaw – as giving Manners a severe frown. Her back was laden with saddlebags full of papers and notes. She looked tired. “Care to explain?”

“Sunny! There you are!” Mild Manners said, stepping towards her. “So glad to see you back! Do you want me to help with your bags?”

“No! No, she was an angel.” Mild smiled at her. It was a heartfelt expression. “Just like you.”

I turned my nose up at that. Pretty cheesy line. Evidently, Sunny thought the same thing – she snorted, then tugged open the clasp to her bag. A little dog with long, curly, black fur poked its head, and barked happily.

Mild’s jaw dropped. “Maisie?”

“I found her wandering around, digging through other pony’s rubbish.” Sunny shook her head. “If you have any excuses, I don’t want to hear them. It was pretty obvious that you were going to try and keep it hidden from me anyway.” And with that, she turned away and started climbing the steps.

Manners let out a cry of equal parts shock and frustration. “Sunny, please, I just didn’t want to worry you–”

Sunny turned her head sharply. Her eyes had the beginning of angry tears in them. “Face it, Mild Manners. This isn’t the first time you’ve done something stupid and insensitive over something like this – not by a long shot. And I’m sick of it. We’re done.”

Mild Manners didn’t say anything for a long, long moment. Eventually, he simply turned around, and walked out of the building.

I went to follow him. “Wait,” the mare said. I stopped, mostly out of complete surprise – somehow I had completely forgotten that I was even in the same room – and I turned to look back.

The mare looked me over, then sighed and walked back down the steps toward me. “You’re Clue Seeker, right? I’m really sorry about all this. Here, this is for all the trouble.” She held out a few bits – about enough as Mild Manners promised me for the case in the first place.

I accepted them gladly. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” I glanced at the open door behind me. “Although… Don’t you think you were a bit harsh? He was being stupid, yes, but his heart was in the right place.”

Sunny followed my gaze. “Mm. Maybe.” She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. Mild Manners is… I don’t know how to feel about him. But that’s not really something for you to worry about. Take care.”

I watched her go, for a moment, before leaving.

---

Mild Manners looked very silly sitting there on the flagstones outside the building. I came to the conclusion that this was either due to his rather red cheeks, or it was because of his rather ridiculous tweed jacket.

I stood next to him and looked down at him. He continued to stare at the stones beneath him. “C’mon, Mr Manners. No point in hanging around here.”

“Oh, just call me Miles, like everyone else. Please.” Mild Manners pulled off his jacket and folded it under his arm. “This was a shambles. A complete and utter shambles.”

I just hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. His voice had changed – it lacked the affected formal register. I wondered if he was even aware of it, or if that speaking style had just become a subconscious tic on his part.

“Urgh. This is going to be all over Canterlot soon.” He rubbed his eyes with his fetlocks. “And I’m supposed to be a model student too…”

“Are you going to be alright?” I asked him, somewhat hesitantly. I wasn’t really used to these kinds of conversations.

He looked at me and smiled a somewhat bitter smile. “Yeah. I’ll get over it eventually” He climbed to his hooves. “We should both be getting back home. I’m sure we both have work to do. It was nice meeting you, Mr Seeker. Really.”

I tried on a smile of my own. “Likewise.” And I’m sure somewhere in my heart, I meant it.

And that was how I met Mild Manners. It was a case like any other.

Comments

[Dafaddah]

Winner by default, but this story still merits a comment: well done! These characters were well drawn, had real depth and Ieft me feeling that I wanted to get to know them better. And you built this lovely edifice on the framework of a shaggy dog story!

[Razalon The Lizardman]

Word of advice for the author moving forward: make sure you pre-read your stories before submission. There's a couple parts where lines are missing.

We climbed the stairs at a brisk pace, up to the third floor. There was hardly anypony else around, so I assumed that they were taking their classes still. Nevertheless, Mild Manners ushered me into his apartment quickly, as if he didn’t want me to be seen. Or maybe he

Mild Manners’ apartment was, to say the least, not what I had expected. There was soft, white, fluffy carpet padding the floor, and the room itself was larger than my office and apartment put together. A soft pink bed sat in the far corner, and the kitchen, dining area, and lounge made up the rest of the apartment, all of them polished and practically luxurious.

“Sunny! There you are!” Mild Manners said, stepping towards her. “So glad to see you back! Do you want me to help with your bags?”

“No! No, she was an angel.” Mild smiled at her. It was a heartfelt expression. “Just like you.”

[TacticalRainboom]

My recommendation is that you take after Tracer Bullet and Max Payne, and really go for it with the narrator voice. The opening would be fun if you went trope overload on it--as it is, it's dry.

Anyway, this was pretty good.

[PresentPerfect]

Liked: The noir narration. It could be ramped up, but I always appreciate that.

Disliked: This was a fairly dull story. Finding a missing dog isn't interesting as it is -- Clue Seeker even lampshades this! -- and I feel like the downer ending would have happened had Clue Seeker not been involved in the first place, so I wonder what the point is. (Also wonder what happened to that missing sentence! Now there's a mystery.)

[DannyJ]

The missing sentences were a problem, but I really liked the noir narration and how both OCs were characterised. I was surprised when I got done reading and looked up to see that it was actually Miles Manners's author who wrote this piece, because Clue Seeker was very well done as our perspective character, and I was actually looking forward to seeing more of him. Nonetheless, there's a lot of skill on display here, so even if there will be no more Clue Seeker and no more noir narration, I have high hopes for this author.