Redwood vs. Evergreen - Winner: Evergreen (by Default)
A Maniac Morass - by Evergreen's Author
"So, this is a bit of a bad sitch, eh?"
Redwood looked over her shoulder at the green pegasus strapped to her back. The motion made the ropes binding them squeeze tighter against her chest. "That’s an apt description, yeah."
The both of them swayed as Evergreen squirmed. “Well, any ideas?” she said.
“I’m working on it,” she said, chewing her lower lip. “Let’s just hope they don’t decide to drop us in the meantime.”
“Yah, and in the meantime, can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“How’d we manage to mess this one up so bad?”
Redwood glanced upward; a long rope, attached to the coils keeping them in place, extended up to one of the lower-hanging boughs above, where it made use of a crook in the branch as a makeshift pulley. It was barely visible, given how dark it was in the clearing. The stars overhead barely shone above the thick canopy, and the moon was hanging somewhere near the horizon, obscured by the tangled branches of the surrounding trees. The only source of light was the great bonfire below, and even that barely reached up to their position dangling from the tree.
Still, it was enough to see the bubbling cauldron directly beneath them, and the ring of ominous, cloaked figures circling it.
"I’ve been asking that myself this whole time."
“Agent Redwood?” The mare stuck out a hoof. “Sergeant Evergreen, Royal Equestrian Rangers. How ya doin’?”
Redwood extended her own russet hoof, meeting hers in a firm shake. “Quite well, Sergeant.”
“It’s not often we get one of you Canterlot types up in this neck of the woods. Didn’t think our message would get answered so quick.”
“Well, the EIA aims to please.”
Which wasn't exactly true. The Equestrian Intelligence Agency had pegged this area of the backwoods as a potential hotbed for criminal activity, given its remoteness, but it was hardly high on the priority list. In fact, it was pretty much at the bottom. Were she not a green field agent, she might have considered the assignment an insult.
No need to let her know any of that, though.
“So, Sergeant, I understand you’ve been having some troubles with… What was it? Taps being stolen from?”
Evergreen bobbed her head. “Oh yah. Folks all up and down the foothills have been finding the buckets stolen right from under their maple trees.”
“Such a nefarious crime,” Redwood deadpanned.
“You betcha,” said Evergreen, her brow furrowed. “And it only gets worse. Come on, I’ll show you what the lab boys have found."
She raised an eyebrow. “You have a lab here?”
“Of course,” Evergreen said, leading her through a nearby door. “What, didja think we were too small-time for that?”
Redwood cast her gaze around the Ranger station, with its thick log walls, its high, vaulted ceiling, and the red-coated figures milling across its musty oak floors. In terms of floorspace, it was not much bigger than the average Canterlot office, and seemed to be straining to keep even its small clientele contained. “No, not at all.”
Smaller still was the sterile room Evergreen led her to, and inside was a pale blue unicorn and a kettle over which he currently seemed to be obsessing.
“Perry?” said Evergreen. “Got somepony for ya to meet. This here’s Agent Redwood, our EIA liaison.”
He looked over at her, adjusting his spectacles. “Oh, hallo. Periwinkle’s the name. Pleased to meetcha, ma’am.”
“Likewise.” She peered at the kettle. “I assume this is what I'm out here for?”
“Oh yah,” he said. “This stuff may just be the biggest offense against nature I've ever encountered.”
Redwood cocked her head at the... slop resting in the kettle. To her, it looked like... “Oil? Is that what it is?”
“If only.” Periwinkle took up a long, metal rod, and dipped it into the mix. The liquid inside squelched and stuck to it, seeming to climb up its length as he drove it in deeper. He gave it a tug, but it barely budged. “This is a monstrous adhesive.”
She peered closer at the bubbling mass, and immediately regretted it. “That's something nasty, all right. Where did it come from?”
“From those taps I mentioned,” said Evergreen.
Redwood rounded on her. “Wait, you're telling me this stuff is… maple syrup?”
“Smell it.”
She inched a reluctant nostril over the kettle, and sniffed. Sure enough, it carried the unmistakable sweet scent. “You've got to be kidding me.”
“Wish we were, Ma’am,” Periwinkle said. “And whoever’s behind this has got some dark designs for it, too.”
Evergreen nodded. “We’ve been finding patches of the stuff in the woods. A family of moose got caught in one a few weeks back, and we had to shave their fur to get the stuff out. And it seems like the spots are getting closer and closer to Vanhoover.”
“In my forensic opinion,” Periwinkle continued, “all of this indicates somepony is testing their methods before launching a major attack.”
Redwood blinked. “So, let me get this straight. Somepony’s stealing maple syrup in order to weaponize it with the end goal of covering the landscape in slimy, sticky goop?”
Evergreen nodded. “That’s aboot it, yah.”
Redwood looked between the two, finding the same, quiet fury on their faces. Slowly, carefully, she adopted one of her own. “How… nefarious!” she cried.
“Oh, you betcha!” they said simultaneously.
Redwood sighed.
“Sucidus, diffusilis, oblimat. Sucidus, diffusilis, oblimat. Sucidus, diffusilis, oblimat...”
“So, they’re chanting now,” said Evergreen.
“Yep,” said Redwood.
“Chanting’s usually a bad sign.”
“Yep.”
“Any idea what they’re saying?”
“Nope.”
“Then that’s really bad.”
“Mmhmm.”
Why they’d only just decided to strike up a chorus, she hadn’t the foggiest. Maybe it was all a ploy to sabotage her thought processes; it was certainly doing a good job of that.
“So, I don't know aboot you,” said Evergreen, “but having to shave all of my fur off isn't seeming like the best end to this story.”
“No, it isn't to me, either.”
There was a silence, such as it was. The pair swayed in the slight breeze.
“Ya know, I really am sorry aboot all of this.”
Redwood craned her neck again. “Sorry for what?”
“Getting us caught. Thinking I was sneakier than I really am.”
A bitter frown settled over Redwood’s features. “No, it’s my fault. I bit off way more than either of us could chew here. The least I could’ve done is whistle for some backup.”
“So could I.” She chuckled. “Guess we’re both a couple of hosers, eh?”
“I have no idea what that word means.”
“Well, you see, it’s a—”
A figure emerged from the shadows of the clearing. It wore a brightly-embroidered cloak of shimmering lavender. Coming to a halt, and raising its hooded head high, it struck out a foreleg and cried in a thunderous voice, “Silence!”
If there was one thing to be said about the wilds of the Unicorn Range, it’s that they were very pretty.
Pine trees as tall as the towers of Canterlot surrounded them, casting the forest floor into deep shadow, save a few golden shafts of light. Patches of green ferns flourished beneath them, the air thick and close with the sweet odors of leaves and sap. Everything seemed quieter in here, as though it was shut off from the outside world.
That was precisely why they’d picked this particular part of the woods, in fact. After poring over various maps, marking the locations of purloined taps, and cross-referencing them with the locations of the gunk attacks, Redwood had started seeing a pattern. Combined with Evergreen’s on-the-ground knowledge of the terrain, they’d narrowed things down to just a few potential hiding spots, buried in the thickest parts of the woods. Places one could hike easily enough, and be hidden from aerial view.
“So,” said Evergreen, “sorry if it’s too personal, but can I ask aboot the brace?”
She glanced back at the metal frame and quietly creaking springs attached to her back right leg. “It’s not a big deal. Got it caught in a carriage wheel when I was young.”
“Ouch. Really?”
“No. It’s actually from my days in the Guard. Fought a couple of minotaurs, and one of them speared his horn clean through my leg.”
“You’re pulling my leg on that one.”
“You’re right. The truth is, it’s classified.”
Evergreen stared at her. Redwood hid her grin by stepping out in front of her. There weren’t a whole lot of benefits to being in the EIA, but being gleefully cryptic was one of them.
“How much farther are we?” she said.
Evergreen shook herself. “Another mile or so. In fact…” She came to a halt, and started undoing the buttons of her scarlet uniform.
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m not aboot to waltz into the site of an illegal sap-scumming operation wearing this.” Folding her jacket into a crisp square, she doffed her campaign hat and set them both at the base of a nearby tree. “There we go. Now I’ve got my all-natural camouflage, eh?”
Redwood looked her up and down. She certainly did blend well with the surrounding greens. “But how are you going to find the uniform again?”
“Easy,” she gave a cheeky grin. “I just remember I left it under an evergreen.”
Redwood was just about to point out that they were all evergreens, but stopped herself from walking into that verbal trap. “Okay, then,” she said, continuing onward.
“You might do well to give yourself some camouflage, too. You stick out like a timberwolf among squirrels.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“You sure? With that brace of yours clicking with every step, you need all the help you can get.”
She smirked. “What’s life without a bit of risk?”
“Suit yourself. Me, I’ll stick with what I know. And what I know is how to move unseen and unheard through the—”
Both of them came to a halt. In front of them stood several figures in green cloaks. The shadows of their hoods stared at them implacably. With a start, she realized there were more of them to their right and to their left.
“Uh… Hi there,” she said. “We were just leav—”
Both her words and her consciousness cut off as one of them struck her over the head.
Like a bank of fog descending on the surroundings, quiet settled into the clearing. Quiet, save for one still-chanting voice.
“Oi, Fudge Sucker!” The lavender-cloaked figure doffed its hood, revealing a brown-coated stallion of middling age and shifty eyes. “When I say ‘silence’ it means be silent!”
The voice shut up. For just a moment. “Sorry, Jack.”
“Address me by my proper title when I reprimand you!”
“Sorry, Grand Sludgemancer Flapjack, Supercilious Spreader of the Supreme Slime.” He bowed his head until his hood brushed the ground. “Please, forgive me.”
Flapjack huffed. “Honestly, it’s like you don’t even know how this whole cult business works! Anyway!” He threw a hoof out to his side, causing his cloak to flap in a reasonably sinister fashion. “We’re here to venerate His coming, so we’d better get down to the whole sacrifice business, eh?”
The cultists murmured an assent.
“Okay, then.” He turned his attention to Evergreen and Redwood. “Well, ladies, sorry for all of this, but it’s time we sacrificed you to our lord and master, okay?”
Redwood opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Uh… can you not?”
“Nope.” He blinked. “I mean, nope, we can’t not do that. See, we went to a lot of trouble here. You know how many buckets of sap it took to fill that big pot?”
“You buncha hosers!” snarled Evergreen. “Stealing all of that, just to waste it like this?!”
“Hey now, Sister Savory Leaf worked right hard on that brew.” He pointed to one of the cultists, who gave a merry wave. “You know how many ponies would’ve thought to mix sap and twelve different glues together like that? I sure wouldn’t.”
Redwood slid back into the conversation. “Now, look, Mr. Flapjack—”
“Sludgemancer!”
“Right, sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “Sludgemancer Flapjack, I’m really sorry my friend and I wandered in on your little party here, but is this really any way to treat some random passers-by?”
“Maybe if we were one of those lesser, nicer cults. But we’re in the super-secret sect kind of business, here. I mean, we’ve got cloaks and everything!” He held up a hoof-ful of his cloak to demonstrate.
“Okay. I get that you need to maintain your confidentiality, but surely you can let it slide just once? I mean, think of the infamy you’d stand to gain by letting us go to spread some horror stories?”
“Appreciate the offer, Miss, but we’re covered there. In fact, all of Equestria will soon be covered. For you see, our Lord’s coming has been foretold in ancient prophecies from generations past!” He reared up, spreading his forelegs wide. “Yes, and as prophesied, the Smooze has returned to spread His great goopiness across the land!”
Distantly, Redwood realized her jaw had been hanging slack for the past fifteen seconds. She finally found her voice. “Really?”
“Really what?”
“The Smooze? The big blob thing that showed up at the Grand Galloping Gala this year?”
“Yes! His mucus is made manifest! The world shall be sundered beneath His goopy mass!”
“Uh… You know that whole situation got resolved, right? The Smooze was taken care of.”
“Nonsense! Nothing can stop the Smooze!”
Had her hooves been free, she’d have brought one to her forehead. “Except it was stop—okay. Yeah. His gunkiness is great and grand and… grandiose. I can see that now. Say we were interested in joining up? I mean, you could at least give us a chance, right?”
“What?” hissed Evergreen. “Joining up with these sap-stealing sons of—”
Redwood jerked her shoulder back, cutting her off. “Come on, think of how much easier it’d be to spread this wondrous gunk if you had a couple of pegasi among your ranks? Wouldn’t that venerate His Most... Omnipotent Ooze?”
Flapjack raised a hoof to his chin. “Well, I can’t fault you for inflection. It sure seems like you’re passionate about the Lord Smooze. You’d have to go through our vetting process first, though. We start with a basic background check, see if you’ve got any previous cult experience, stuff like that. From there, we’ll have to test your slime skillset. It’s a standardized thing, only fifty questions.”
“You really sure about this, Sludgemancer?”
“About what, Brother Fudge Sucker?”
“Do we even want to give them a shot? I dunno if they really love the Smooze or not.”
“Now look, we’re all equal in the eyes of the Lord. That means we give the benefit of the doubt, right?”
“I’m just sayin’, there’s our image to consider, is all.”
“Okay, apparently we need to talk this over. Cult huddle!”
As one, the cultists shifted to one side of the bonfire, reforming into a new, tighter ring around Flapjack. Their discussion quickly turned into a maelstrom of goo-centered terms which all sounded highly technical in nature.
Redwood shifted her shoulders, giving Evergreen a slight nudge. “Okay, while they’re distracted,” she whispered. “Ideas?”
There was a pause, and more fidgeting. “I’ve got plenty, but I need a bit of slack to make any of ‘em work.”
“I can help with that.” Redwood tucked her wings in close, and quietly exhaled. The ropes sagged, creaking as they cinched up close to her throat.
Evergreen gasped, startled by the sudden shift. “What’d you just do?”
“Rule one of being tied up. Flex your muscles and inflate your chest. Give them something big to wrap the ropes around. Then you can shrink at your leisure.”
“Well, it certainly worked. I can move my forelegs again. Give me a second.”
Redwood felt herself swaying back and forth as Evergreen shifted her limbs around. She tilted her head back, keeping her chin from slipping any further. Casting her eyes and ears around, it seemed the cultists were still in heated debate over the intricacies of cult membership, and how exactly to verify one’s proclaimed love for tree sap.
“Got anything?” she whispered back to Evergreen.
“Feels like they tied us up with a big ol’ granny knot. Amateurs.”
“Can you untie it?”
“Yeah. It’ll come apart easy enough if I can get the right leverage…” She paused. “Your leg brace.”
“What?”
“Can you reach your leg brace up to me? I might be able to use the springs to force the knots.”
She fidgeted a bit, and drew her back right leg up as high as it would go. “There’s a strap just above my fetlock, and one on the hock. Just unclip those, and it should come loose.”
“Gotcha. Buy me as much time as you can, and as soon as I’m set, I’ll give you a signal.”
“Make it quick. I think they’re wrapping up.”
The cultists were indeed exchanging a series of nods. Flapjack took a step forward, placing himself in front of the group. “We’ve come to a decision.” He looked around at his compatriots. “Right? Everypony’s happy?” Hoods bobbed in response. “Yes, we’ve come to a decision.”
“Great! So, you’ll let us join the cult?”
“Nah, we’ve decided to just sacrifice you anyway.”
“What? Why?”
He shrugged. “Because according to the Book of Gunk, Chapter 36, line 27, ‘The Smooze doesn’t let anything get in the way of a good sliming.’ If we’re going to be serious about this whole business, we need to follow that example.”
Sweat trickled down her back. “But, surely there’s more sliming to be had with more members?”
“We thought about that, but I’m afraid we can’t spare the expense. I mean, you know how hard it is to find new robes out here in the woods? They don’t grow on trees!”
“But, what if we did it without the robes?”
“Can’t be in a super-secret cult without proper robes.” He frowned. “Sorry, but this is aboot the only way we can venerate the Smooze and keep our little cult secret, and we’re all feeling pretty good about this arrangement. It’s a win-win.”
Redwood felt a rapid tapping at her back. Checkmate. “I can’t say I agree, Mr. Flapjack.”
“I told you, my full title is—”
“There’s got to be a loser if there’s a winner.” She grinned. “And I love winning.”
Evergreen needed no further prompt. With a click, a sproing, and the tearing of rope, their bindings all but burst asunder. Redwood felt her stomach do a somersault, and she spread her wings on instinct, feeling the free air rushing through her feathers. She guided her descent, landing on the rim of the cauldron, and Evergreen touched down beside her.
They shared a glance and a nod, and with one final, predatory look at the shocked faces of the cultists, pushed off with all their might.
Groaning, the cauldron tipped off of the bonfire. Its contents spilled over the burning logs, dousing the flames in a hissing cloud of steam and smoke. The torrent poured outward like a sticky tsunami, engulfing the cultists one after another. Hooves adhered to the grass, tails and robes became matted into the syrupy mass. Flapjack managed to trip and stick the side of his face to the ground; the remaining cultists pulled in vain, the goo stretching and sucking their hooves to the ground.
Redwood and Evergreen slowly fluttered down, hovering just above the overturned cauldron. They surveyed the struggling cultists like a pair of foals overlooking a destroyed anthill.
Evergreen glanced at her. “You want to say it or should I?”
She shrugged. “Technically, the EIA doesn’t have the authority.”
“Well, all right, then.” Taking a deep breath, she barked, “Royal Equestrian Rangers! You’re all under arrest!”
The dawn was just creeping over the horizon as the last of the cultists—a rather incensed Flapjack—was finally dug out of the ground and hauled to a waiting chariot like a transplanted sapling. The whole clearing swarmed with red-clad ponies, some hauling away pieces of syrupy evidence, others with shovels digging up the gooey grass.
Redwood watched it all from the edge of the clearing. Not quite out of sight, but far enough removed to be out of the minds of everypony present—just how an agent like her ought to be. It wouldn’t do to step on the hooves of the pony in charge, anyway.
Evergreen was taking a moment to converse with the pegasi hitched to the chariot. She was back in her uniform, and looking properly official as she talked. There was an exchange of nods, and a grin or two, and then the vehicle took to the sky. With one last word to another of the assembled Rangers, she floated over to Redwood and alighted in front of her. She took a moment to doff her hat and wipe her brow.
“Well, we’re just about done here. Lucky for us, the stuff doesn’t seep too deep into the ground, so hopefully it won’t do the woods any lasting harm.”
Redwood nodded, a slight smile creeping onto her face. “Good to hear. I’d hate to end on a bad note.”
“How’s your leg?”
She shifted her back right hoof. Of course, her brace had been lost in the rush of slime. “It’ll be fine, just so long as I keep the weight off of it until I get back to the capital.”
“So, that’s next for ya? Back to Canterlot?”
“Yeah. This case is going to cause quite a stir at headquarters, I think.”
“The good kind, I hope. I’ll make sure to include you and your assistance in the arrest report.”
Redwood wiped her face of emotion and deadpanned, “No. By protocol, the EIA will deny any involvement in this whole affair. If you ever breathe a word of it, we’ll have you tried for treason.”
Evergreen took a step back. “Really?”
“No.” Her grin exploded back onto her face. “Please, use all the glowing adjectives you can. I need every bit of help looking good for my supervisor.”
Evergreen smiled wide and white. She tipped her hat. “You betcha. I’m sure I can find a few nice things to say.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Oh, I think we’re past titles, eh?” She held out a hoof. “You ever need help in this neck of the woods again, just ask.”
Redwood took her hoof and gave it a firm shake. “Always nice to have a friend in the field.”
She nodded, a quirky smile on her face. “Friends in the field. Evergreen and Redwood. It’s like—”
“Like two trees swaying in the same breeze?”
Evergreen laughed. “Well, if you want to be corny about it, yah.”
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Definitely the best entry by Evergreen so far.
Why, why, why couldn't this have been a proper match? ):
I'm very sad to see this. I really liked Redwood's character, and wanted to see more of her.
HEADLINE: CRAZY CULT TURN TAFFY TERRORISTS, SUCCUMB TO SAPPY SLIME AND MAPLE MOUNTIE
Redwood, nooooo all that encouragement for nothing?
Best Evergreen story, by far. Had me laughing the whole time, from that hook... that hook... to the last gag at the end. This is another author I want to look into when we're done with this crazy contest.
You too, Redwood. Tell me who you were.
6165738
'Fraid I can't do that, Jim. The contest is still going on, and I don't want to make it any easier for people to guess who the remaining contestants are. The least I can do for my fellow entrants is to keep my identity a secret and provide some ambiguity.
That said, if you really want to know... I still won't tell you.
6164318
6164180
Apologies for the disappointment. See 6160425 for explanation.
Just a typical day in the life of a mountie.
Fairly salty about the one who beat me defaulting, but whatever.
Evergreen's author, you did an awesome job. Looking forward to seeing what you come up with next round.
This is the best Smooze fic since For I Am a Jelly God. It's everything I ever wanted. :D