A private detective. A town full of colorful and suspicious ponies. A crime.
(1st person story of gumshoes and suspicious dames.)
See how much cheesy noire monolgue you can take, before you start wearing a hardboiled hat and drink unhealthy amounts of coffee.
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So here I was again. Sitting in my office of a private eye. New town, old moves. But who could blame me? They called me Hawkshaw, the stallion cursed with the special talent of solving crimes. The talent that would forever tie me to the underbelly of society.
The office was quiet. For a moment I hoped that it would stay that way. That I had finally found the one place on this world that was free of crime. All those hopes were shattered however, when she knocked on my door
Midnight in a town that knows how to keep its secrets,
I know this city like a beautiful mare.
I'm Pony Niore, Private Eye!
*smooth jazz*
(Marked to read later, love the idea)
markin' to read later, as this is certainly an intriguing and curious idea. I'm gonna likely love readin' this, since old detective novels were a fave of mine.
OK, I am loving this so far.
Couple issues, though. You missed capitalizing 'I' nearly half the time, and a number of sentences don't really flow all that well. They're awkward, stilted. Sentence fragments, if you were to plug them into Microsoft Word.
Still, nice blend of film noir and comedy; I'm loving how jaded Hawkshaw is, and Rarity's still a drama queen. Just needs a bit of touching up so far as overall sentence structure and grammar is concerned.
-Tricondon
Oh this looks interesting...and hilarious.
803588
Thanks
Yay! thanks for writing more.