Pony Shorts

by Miyajima

The Taste of Bitter Almonds

I trudged along the streets of Downtown Manehattan, the rain soaking into my coat. It pooled on the rim of my hat and poured down my nose, and my horseshoes were sodden. I didn't want to be out in this, and it seemed I wasn't the only one. The streets were near-empty, even accounting for the late time. But a case is a case, and this is where my contact had led me.

Corner of 38th Street, 'The Yellow Crescent'.

I looked up at the sign, rain running off my hat and down my mane. It seemed like it'd taken a few knocks. I couldn't tell if it was meant to be a crescent moon or a banana. From the outside, the place looked like a run-down dive. The bricks were crumbling, the mortar barely holding the structure together. Windows were smashed in. The strong smell of cheap punch pierced through the rain.

I shook some of the excess water off myself, and pushed open the door. My first impression was everyone turning to look at me, but I expected that. You don't work in this town, doing what I do, without getting some recognition, but I knew they wouldn't try anything. Not here. Because while the Crescent was a dive, it was neutral territory. A place where all the gangs of Manehattan could meet and do business.

The perfect place for some undercover information.

I'd hit a wall on the Bright Eyes case. Over a hundred witnesses, but they all gave conflicting testimony. But one dame, she broke under the pressure. Near-hysterical. Gave me my first real lead on the case. I knew somepony had been paying them off; that there was something deeper under this all, and the tangled web I was uncovering just seemed to get worse and worse. No amount of brushing was gonna fix this one.

I made my way across to the bar, taking a sweeping glance at everything and everyone around me. The Crescent looked a bit more respectable inside, with wooden panelling, likely oak judging by the staining, and walls lined with red velvet. Smoke shrouded the tables, but I saw a flash of cards and could hear the ringing of bits. Some patrons turned to their partners and muttered, shooting glances in my direction. The strains of a weary jazz band drifted over.

The bartender looked like a stallion you didn't mess with. He stood, at a guess, fifteen hands high, and sported a collar, with more than a few knife and teeth marks in it. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had a pair of studded horseshoes for the awkward customers. He looked at me and glowered, brow sinking down until it nearly obscured his eyes.

"No flathooves in this bar. Yer trouble, all of yer. Geddout." he spat at me. I took a step back and raised a hoof.

"I'm jus' here for a drink an' some talk. No trouble, I promise."

His brow sunk even lower and I swear his growling sounded like an Ursa. Thinking fast, I carefully reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pouch of bits with my teeth, tossing it to the bar. That unmistakeable clink as they hit the wood made him change his tone, and he even attempted to smile.

"Righ'. What'll it be? An' I ain' sellin' nuthin' illegal. All above-board 'ere. Ain't got no rhubarb."

"I'll jus' have the Apricot Rose. Give it a shot of lime, too."

I leant against the bar, happy to rest my hooves while the barman fetched me my cocktail. The band had just struck up another piece, starting with a lively sax solo. As I looked around the place once again, trying to pin my contact, my eyes met a pair belonging to a face I really didn't want to see.

The unmistakeable cyan coat. The two-tone mane. That tailored linen suit. The black lacquered harp case.

Heartstrings.

She smirked at me, but didn't give any other indication that she'd seen me. The other mobsters at her table just carried on their game of cards. But now I was worried. That dame had that effect on ponies. Heartstrings was one of the best clean-up mares in the city, and if she was here tonight, somepony was gonna get their clock cleaned.

I just hoped it wasn't gonna be me.

I was nudged out of my introspection by the barman tapping me on the shoulder. I could feel the iron studs in his shoes with even that light of a touch. He slid my drink across, and I was pleased to see it even had a rosebud in it. My opinion of the Crescent went up a notch. Any stallion that can mix a proper Apricot Rose was worth his salt in my books.

Carefully levering the glass in my teeth, I took a sip. At the end of a long day, there was nothing like a glass of punch to ease your aching hooves. All the delicate flavours, the apricot, the rose petals, the twist of lime, melded together perfectly. But there was something else I couldn't quite place.

I didn't have time to ponder it, as a zebra settled next to me at the bar. I recognized him, as well. There was no mistaking that pinstripe and the gold teeth. Korianga, boss of half the gangs in Manehattan. The snake had slipped through the hoofs of the law more times than I cared to count, and half the police were on his payroll. It's why they needed mares like me.

"Inspector Bon Bon," he said, as one equal would to another, flashing that golden grin at me. I gave a curt nod back. I wasn't sure what he wanted with me, but it can't have been anything good. After all, I'd put him away more than once.

"Ah calm down, Sweets," he said, almost reading my mind. "I haven't got any grass with you. Just taking an evening off, like yourself."

I continued to say nothing, focusing on identifying that flavour I couldn't place.

Korianga leant over, grinning. "How's your drink?"

My eyes went wide and I dropped the glass. It shattered on the floor. Now I knew that taste.

Everypony in the bar stopped and looked at me. I could swear they were all grinning. I turned to Korianga and grabbed him by the collar of his expensive suit.

"Antidote. Now."

He looked confused, so I struck him a good right hoof to jog his memory. Perhaps I jogged it a bit too hard, because he hit the floor and went out like a light.

Korianga's goons leapt up at the sight, shouting threats and promises at me as they rushed the bar. The barman just calmly ducked down, he knew what was coming. I braced myself, setting my hooves apart. If I was gonna die tonight, then by Celestia, I was gonna take them down with me.

The first goon came flying at me, literally. Thinking fast, I grabbed a neighbour's drink and threw it at the incoming's wings. Knocked him off trajectory straight into the stallion whose drink I stole. Two down. Another came at me from the right, and span around to buck me one. I managed to move out of the way just in time, as splinters flew up from the bar as it cracked under the blow. That would've hurt. Fortunately, the barman clocked him over the skull with a heavy hoof and brought him crashing down.

Now smaller brawls were picking up at other tables. Gamblers taking the chance to settle old scores. Rival gangs seeing an opportunity for advancement. But in the chaos I knew I wasn't gonna find what I was looking for. Korianga probably still had the antidote on him, but there was no way I was gonna be able to search him now. I ducked as a magically thrown stool arced over my head and hit a row of bottles, exploding into shards of glass and juice.

Another gang member rushed me, and managed to get in a blow. I hit the floor and slid a few feet into a table, knocking it over. My head was ringing as I felt myself picked up by telekinesis and flung aside. Last I saw before blacking out was Heartstrings beating the mobster hard over the head with her harp case.

~~~

I woke up some time later, still lying where I fell. First thing I saw was Heartstrings leaning over me, her suit clean as a whistle and not a hair out of place. I don't know how she does it.

I looked up, vision still swimming as a full percussion section played a concert in my head. It was complete chaos. Ponies slumped everywhere in various states of health. Wrecked tables and chairs. Glass scattered like flower petals at a wedding. All the good stuff draining into the floorboards. I could see the sax player groggily trying to find his way to the exit, his instrument dented way outta shape from making contact with a guy's skull.

"Not going to cause any trouble, huh?" she said, grinning, as she helped me stand up. A mobster, sure, but she had nothing to gain against me.

It was then that I remembered why I was lying there to start with. "Antidote! I was poisoned!"

She tilted her head at me for a moment, then the light of comprehension dawned in her eyes and she laughed.

"Antidote? Hah! You thought they'd put something in your drink, didn't you?"

"... But they did! Korianga outright admitted it!"

"Ah, Inspector..." she said, picking bits of glass out of my mane with her magic. "Don't you know it's the house's speciality to add almonds?"

Comments

[CTVulpin]

Bon Bon:

Pretty good one Miya.

[The Unknown Alias]

Oh, I would be too quick to rest Bon... Cyanide and all...

[Lucefudu]

284293 True. It would have me dead and gone in 10 seconds at max.

[CheeseDeluxe]

God damn it.

See, this is why I track fics, people. Because they're good.

[Silver Slip]

I should have known

[Draco Dei]

and my horseshoes were sodden.
-They are made out of something permeable to water?

The strong smell of cheap punch pierced through the rain.
-Nice touch with the punch.

I'd hit a wall on the Bright Eyes case.
-Bright Eyes The Secret Agent version of Derpy/Ditzy? Or the Earthpony with the cataracts and the tumblr blog?

and the tangled web I was uncovering just seemed to get worse and worse. No amount of brushing was gonna fix this one.
-Nice turn of phrase.

and sported a collar, with more than a few knife and teeth marks in it.
-Minimalist armor?

-Started getting lazy with the reviewing here.

and span around to buck me one.
-"Spun" I think.

[Miyajima]

287719
-They are made out of something permeable to water?
S'deliberately meant as a joke.

Bright Eyes The Secret Agent version of Derpy/Ditzy? Or the Earthpony with the cataracts and the tumblr blog?
No specific reference.

[mrmayortheiv]

For some reason tried to read this in a gritty noir boston cop voice (that's a hay of a lot of adjectives). Succeeded! The beginning really works for it but by the time the Zebra comes in it gets a little harder to hold on to.

Didn't expect Bon-bon to be honest, when I saw the word brushing I thought it was going to be Colgate.

[Themaskedferret]

Interesting but it feels a bit too rushed to really do it justice. Still a cool idea but I'd love to see it bit expanded.