INFESTATION!

INFESTATION!

A Grumpy Goat >tail<

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My business with the Ponyville Hall of Records done, I went up the pleasant, tree lined cobble stone streets. I passed my usual stop at Caramel Treat’s Sweets. I knew that they had gone to Reverend Smallflower’s Assembly. The modest Meeting Hall was set back from the street in a lovely, park like lot.

I trotted right on in. Reverend Smallflower’s Assembly is one of the few places in Ponyville where a goat is simply welcomed as the equal that the Edict of Equality says that they are. I made my way through the small group of socializing earth ponies, unicorns, pegassi, donkeys and other goats, to a pair of simply huge Everfree Ridgeback wolves.

I cheerfully said, “Hi, Caramel! Hello, Fangrin! How are my favorite werewolves, today?”

It was Fangrin who answered, “We are fine, Grumpy! How is our favorite dead goat today?”

“Feeling great in spite of that tiny mistake with the pentacles years ago! I just registered over a thousand golden bits worth of contracts! I knew that you two would be here, so I came to the Assembly.”

It was just then that Reverend Smallflower, a somewhat lean white pegasus, wearing a flat black hat came in through a doorway under the Assembly’s nicely painted symbol.

The Assembly’s symbol was a circle, the round yellow center for Celestia, with her solar flames except where an attached crescent for Luna united the Day and the Night.

The reverend took his place behind a simple pulpit and declaimed, “The blessings of Celestia and Luna upon all here gathered.”

We all found places to sit. Following the Assembly’s tradition, we all sat near to others of different kinds. That brought the gryphon to my attention. It was not quite a battle among the Reverend’s followers to sit next to him! Almost, but not quite.

That actual inclusiveness is what I really like about the Assembly. Once we were all seated, Reverend Smallflower gave us a really moving sermon on how the Immortal Twins wanted us to support each other and share openly.

If more ponies were like him, I would have no business nor the need for one. It is Lucky for my personal greed that so many ponies (mostly) are not as good as him! My business is Non Equine magic. All my work is done by publicly registered contracts fully paid in advance. I give a 110% refund if the contract terms are not met.

I do not have to give many refunds. I did once, to a pony who insisted that my Working had nothing to do with his getting the contract results. He has regretted that decision ever since. Others who are thinking of following in his hoofprints are gently showed where his hoofprints led.

Things actually went well at the meeting and a smiling Reverend Smallflower invited us to adjourn to the Assembly’s function room. There were refreshments and food. Caramel Treat and Fangrin had provided the food part, which meant that it was really good food. Their extremely keen werewolf senses make Caramel and her mate Fangrin fantastic cooks!

The Assembly let out and we were almost all going our separate ways when one of Ponyville’s more delightful sights came by. Pinkie Pie was happily bouncing down the street with Gummy on a leash. He pet alligator was now a good two meters and a third long. He was trotting along with his legs under him and he was having no trouble at all keeping up with his mistress. We all took the time to watch her go by because it was such a pleasantly silly sight.

Caramel, Fangrin and I were on our way over to their restaurant when we saw an altercation. There were two earth ponies, a pegasus and a unicorn all harassing a donkey mare and her filly. No matter which way she tried to go, one would get in front of her and block her. One got between her and her filly and knocked the child to the ground.

Caramel, instead of changing into a wolf, called to the mare, “Come with us, dear, and bring your filly too! We are just going to Caramel Treat’s for some food!”

I realized that by doing so, she had just included them in our party. A long standing contract with Caramel allows me to use non lethal defense spells for myself, anyone with her or at her restaurant.

Grinning happily, I muttered, “Blooper All!” That was the trigger for one of my favorite defensive spells called Friday the 13th. Bad luck in spades for the target, which was all of those forelockless idiots.

One of the earth ponies was trying a fancy front hoof spin while bunching his hindquarters to kick the poor mare. His left front hoof caught between cobbles of the street and he fell sideways just as his kick unloaded!

He hit the unicorn by accident. That one was letting drive with his magic as his aim got spoiled. He hit a Ponyville constable instead of the donkey.

The pegasus spread his wings to get out of there but hit the other earth pony in the face on the downstroke. It flipped him onto his side instead of flying away!

The startled earth pony, partly blinded by the wing in his face, gave a kick that knocked the unicorn off his hooves entirely. His magic blasted almost straight up! It ripped a branch off the shade tree overhead. The branch fell across the lot of them. Trying to struggle out of the tangle, the unicorn accidentally hit the cop a second time!

In some circles, it is considered bad form to zap a constable. Doing it once is bad enough. Twice? The cop had him in a horn cap and manacles faster than jig time! He arrested the rest of the batch of rotters, too.

The donkey mare and her foal, now free of the problem, did come over to us. She was still shaking from her close call.

I had to ask, “What set them off?”

She shook her head sadly, “They call themselves skintops or pony purists. You have not been around town much, lately, have you?”

Caramel was informing the officer, “We will be at Caramel Treat’s constable. We witnessed the whole thing. The victim is pretty shaken up. Could you come to my restaurant to get your statements?”

I suggested, “They don’t seem to be acting normally, officer. Perhaps a tumbrel would be the best way to get them to jail.”

Caramel’s excellent hearing caused her to look right at me, a question on her face. I answered, “A nice open wagon ride through the center of town while they are still under the influence of whatever it is, seems indicated.”

She nodded slowly, a grin spreading as understanding dawned.

At Caramel’s I was entertaining the nice Donkey and her filly while they were having some fine alfalfa burgers and Caramels really good fries. The filly was making slurping noises with her straw in the bottom of her second shake.

I was describing our encounter with Pinkie Pie and winding up with, “You would not believe how quick that alligator is! He was trotting right along with Pinkie!”

A pony a table over heard my account and shook his head. “I hope that all the others are being well cared for.”

I looked at him with curiosity. “Others? What others?”

He looked up from chowing down. “I work for Carters Pets and More. After Pinkie Pie got Gummy, we had a big run on pet baby alligators. We must have sold fifty of them. That was years ago.

“I fear that they were not well cared for. Gummy is the only one that anypony sees around. Pinkie is the only one we are selling gator chow to.”

Soon after that, we had the police officer come by for his statements. Besides taking statements, when he was done, he became a regular fount of information on the skintops.

In disgust, he explained, “They call themselves Pony Purists. They hold that the Edict of Equality does not apply to any being but ponies, whether earth, unicorn or pegasus.

“According to them, your sorts “don’t really have reason, wisdom or intelligence.” Only True Ponies have those, so all other beings are mere animals that mimic the appearance of reason.

“As a result, the Edict of Equality does not apply to any but True Ponies.”

I nodded sympathetically and let the poor cop have some of my big onion rings. “Are they worse in any particular areas of Ponyville?”

He grumped, “Stay away from Fallmire Marsh, over there near the Everfree. They have a big club house on an island in the marsh. They aren’t supposed to be there, but they sneaked it in before anypony knew about it.”

Reflecting sadly on how the skintops reinforced my dislike of ponies in general, I wandered on up the trail to my cave with its nice iron and steel front. Those ponies reminded me too much of the Celestian Church Unicorn Supremacist anti goat mob that burned my house. All of my years of work toward a Non Equine University degree, my library, my hopes, sense of security, and dreams for the future went up in those flames.

Badly burned, I escaped with only one book. The mob tried to stone me to death. I was saved by Fangrin and Caramel Treat, in their wolf forms. They drove off the mob and took me in while I healed. Their waitress, the lovely palomino pony, Peanut Brittle nursed me back to health. Her attentive care is likely the only reason that I don’t hate all ponies.

Now I do have some excellent friends among ponies. I am just more cautious about who I befriend. Most of my customers tend to reinforce the notion that many ponies are rotten to the core.

It was late evening when I arrived at the ledge in front of my cave. The off brown dun colored pony who was waiting for me backed off some, placing distance between us. Not really a problem. I am used to ponies not caring for my company.

I asked in a civil voice, “Why are you staying over there? I only do business inside.”

He looked down and replied, “Most every pony says that I stink. Didn’t want to offend you.”

I blinked a couple of times. I drew in a deep sniff. “They are wrong, if that helps any. Come on in. What has brought you to me?”

He seemed surprised that I was inviting him in. Sourly, he commented, “When most find out what I do, is when the problem and comments starts. Thing is, what I am here about is connected to what I do.

“I work in the Ponyville sewer system. Those pipes and such do not run proper without maintenance. We got an infestation problem down in the pipes and channels. Our bosses in the Town Hall think that we are lying to get more bits.”

I sat back and steepled the hooves that I don’t really have as I asked, “What is the infestation problem?”

He sort of scraped at my stone floor and then took a deep breath. He looked me in the eye and replied, “Actually, there are two infestations. Thing is, me and my fellow sewer workers are not rich. We took up a collection. We can only afford to pay you for clearing up one of the infestations. I got the bits here. A hundred in gold.”

I was actually touched. This pony did not seem to be wanting anything bad. Had tried to see to my comfort, even.

I got up and offered, “Did you have any dinner? I could whip you up a clover scramble pretty quick.

“Thing is, before we decide which infestation to spend your bits on, perhaps I should know what the two infestations are.”

He sort of blinked himself. “No, didn’t have any dinner yet. Clover scramble sounds great. Thanks. You are not at all like I was expecting. I was told short temper and mean. Floating Skull and all that stuff.

“About the infestations. This one makes every pony fall over laughing. We got alligators down in the pipes. Some is well over two meters long. They lives off the rats and mice but they are not tame. We are seriously afraid of them.

“It started some years back, a bunch of little ones all showed up in a matter of a couple of months. No big thing. They was eating the mice. Kinda cute, too. We even caught them mice and later, when they grew up some, rats.

“They made secret nests. They hatched out more. Now we got maybe a couple hundred of them down there. We are running out of rats. That is why we are getting afraid of them.”

I nodded as I heated the pan and got the scramble ready to cook. “Why am I not like you expected? Simple. You are not like my usual client. You are not here to have me do some sort of covert dirty work for you.

“As for infestation number one, I do see the problem and why nopony takes you seriously. Thing is, I know how it started. Blame Pinkie Pie. She got Gummy. Lots of young ponies bought little alligators. They disappeared. Now I know where they went!

“So what is the other infestation?”

My client chuckled at the news. Then he sobered down and shook his head. “We got skintops in Fallmire marsh. That marsh is fenced off for a reason. It is an important part of the Ponyville waste treatment system.

“After the primary treatment, the waste water goes to the marsh where it is filtered by plant roots and natural aeration. By the time it gets to the river, it is clean and pure.

“Skintops broke our fence and put in their own gate. They steal our work boats. Worse, they took over some of the engineered islands and filled in channels to build them a big clubhouse.

“If we try to do anything about it or get our boats back, they beat us up. I have been beaten twice myself. They are ruining the treatment system and we workers can’t get our bosses to see how bad the situation is.”

He took the time to scarf down the scramble and put his plate and fork neatly away in my washing tub.

I leaned back in my easy chair, thinking over his problem. I reached over and pulled out one of my contracts. I quickly filled in the boilerplate front page with amount to be paid and the terms for refund and such basic parts to the agreement.

I looked up and gave him a grin full of fangs. You can do so many amusing things when your body does not exist and what is seen is just an easily altered glamor spell.

“I see how to deal with your problems. We will take out the contract to deal with the alligators. Since they do serve a useful function in rodent control, we will let some of the smaller ones stay. Won’t even harm the bigger ones. Does that sound OK with you?”

His brows drew down in a vee. “What about those skintops? They are a serious menace.”

I smiled brightly. “I do believe that things will work out! One thing that you can do without a problem. Have the police chain the skintop’s gate shut.

“May I suggest a small sideline business for you and your buddies?”

We concluded the contract and he left.

The next day, I registered the contract.

A few days later I saw the headline in the Ponyville Prancer. ALLIGATORS IN THE MARSH! The story detailed how the alligators, some over two meters long, suddenly appeared in Fallmire marsh. There had been a hidden skintop gang hideout in the marsh but they fled in terror from the huge number of apparently hungry reptiles. The alligators were now using the island where the hideout had been for a basking place!

All over Ponyville, signs large and small showed up. Under a picture of an alligator, was the slogan

Skintops Welcome!
Our Alligator is Hungry!

~THE END~

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