Carrot and Stick

by Tumbleweed

Chapter 1: A Plight to Remember

Gambling has always been illegal in Canterlot, meaning it has always been popular.

Trying your luck against a deck of cards or a set of dice can be fun enough, but doing it while dodging Canterlot's “finest” is another thing entirely. In the good old days of my youth, you couldn't go a block without stumbling across a roaming dice game, or a saloon with a few card tables in the basement, or even a dining club that had reversible roulette wheels hidden beneath cunningly constructed bowls of wax fruit.

The latter clubs were my favorite-- they kept all the class (and wine list) of a proper gentlecolt's club[1] while also providing the deliciously illicit thrill of breaking the law. And so, on a slow Tuesday evening, I found myself in one such crowded, smoky, and tastefully lit room, peering down at a trio of cards upon the green felt.

[1] In Sentry's time, the term “gentlecolt's club” had not yet taken on the rather risque meaning that we know it for today. Rather, these clubs (also known as “dining clubs”) played an important role in Canterlot society, giving ponies of certain standing a place to eat, do business, and even gamble, in some of the more libertine establishments.

“Hit me.”

The dealer nodded, and his horn glowed as he slipped another card from the shoe. His face remained impassive as he flipped it onto the table in front of me. “Five of hearts. Blackjack.”

I smiled, and basked in the polite applause from the other ponies crowded around the table. I pulled my exponentially growing stack of chips closer to me-- four blackjacks in a row had netted me enough to fund a good several months worth of debauchery. I rubbed at my chin, considering if I should try for five. Blackjack's a game of both luck and skill, two things I obviously had in abundance, though if my streak kept up for too long, it'd only be a matter of time before someone suspected--

“He's cheating!”

I wasn't, of course. But the random cry from some unseen pony was enough to cause a commotion. Something about arson and the theatre went through my mind before two burly ponies in suits and sunglasses materialized on either side of me.

“There appears to be a misunderstanding.” I flashed a smile to the pair, which they did not reciprocate. “Perhaps we should have a chat with the--”

“Police!”

While the accusation of cheating was entirely false, the cry of warning certainly wasn't. Within moments, Canterlot's Finest burst through the door, all badges and bobby-helmets. Panic and pandemonium broke out, as the gamblers, dealers, and floozies scattered in all directions, to little avail.

One of the security ponies dashed off to try to contain the chaos, while the other wrapped a burly leg around my shoulders to 'guide' me towards a back room. We made it about three steps before the big colt let out a strained grunt and fell to the floor. I stared down at the unconscious guard for a few moments-- and then looked up to see the orange-haired mare standing behind him: Carrot Top, a.k.a. Special Agent Golden Harvest.[2] She didn't look like much, but the mere sight of her was enough to make a thin scar along my hairline tingle in remembrance of the last time we met.

[2]There is very little documentation available on Carrot Top, a.k.a. Special Agent Golden Harvest. This is unsurprising, given her profession. Still, there is precedent for otherwise innocuous ponies with secret identities and careers in the Equestrian Intelligence Office. See also: Special Agent Sweetie Drops.

“You!” I blurted. “What in blazes are you doing here?”

“Saving your tail.” Carrot Top grabbed me by the foreleg, her grip even tighter than that of the security pony she'd just felled. “Now follow me!”

Without further ado, Carrot Top dragged me through the chaotic gambling den. An overzealous vice officer lunged at her, but Top pivoted her weight at the last moment, then kicked both her back hooves into the copper's midsection. He wheezed in surprise, and then collapsed to the floor in a heap. Carrot Top nimbly leapt over him, and I could do little but follow.

The two of us ran up a flight of stairs, through a heavy wooden door, and then out into a dark alley. Honestly, once the initial shock of meeting Carrot Top again wore off, I was back in my element. Which is to say, running away.

Carrot Top seemed to know where she was going, at least, which should have been the first sign of trouble. I didn't much care just where we were headed, so long as it was away from the trouble that had so inexplicably blossomed through no fault of my own. If I'd known what she had in store, I would've bolted then and there, and moved somewhere safer, like the yeti-infested parts of Yakyakistan.

“We're safe here.” Carrot Top said, rounding an alley corner. She pushed through the doors of an all-night donut cafe, and nodded a quick greeting to the paper-hatted colt behind the register. “The usual, Joe. Put it on my tab.”

We settled in at a corner booth, and within minutes, the colt in the paper hat put a plate of glazed donuts and two cups of coffee in front of us. Carrot Top tore open a few packets of sugar and dumped them into her coffee, while I drank mine black.

I pulled in a deep breath, slowly calming down. Compared to some of the other fracases and fiascoes I've been through, escaping a police sting on an illegal casino was barely worth mentioning. If it'd been a proper disaster, some changelings would've shown up to light the place on fire. In fact, the whole evening, coppers and all, would've just been another Tuesday, if it weren't for Carrot Top's timely but inexplicable arrival.

“I'm guessing this isn't a social call.” I said.

“I was wondering when you were going to figure that out.” Carrot Top smiled, wryly.

“Let me guess,” I said, “Equestria faces some new, secret threat, that inexplicably can only be faced by the likes of me?” I shook my head. “I know better, this time. You're going to have to find some other patsy.”

“This isn't a matter of national security. This is something more ... personal.”

“Oh hell. That's worse! You're gearing up to go on some roaring rampage of revenge, aren't you? Someone's killed the kung-fu master who made you into the terrifying weapon of a pony you are today?”

“What? No!” Carrot Top glowered at me. “You've been reading too many cheap adventure novels.”

“I've been living too many cheap adventure novels. No thanks to you. You could've at least warned me about the Zebra Changeling Ninja Assassins, back in Perchertania.”

“You survived.”

“Barely.”

“I promise, this is going to be nothing like Perchertania. No disguises. No assassins. Nothing like that.”

“Then what in Celestia's name do you need me for?”

“I ... “ Carrot Top's cheeks flushed, and she bit at her lower lip. “I need a date.”

“What.”

“You heard me.”

“Oh, so I get it, you need me to infiltrate some high society gala in order to sniff out some cloak and dagger skullduggery. Count me out.”

“I told you, it's not business. It's ...” For the first time that evening (if not perhaps ever), I saw her hard-nosed demeanor slip, revealing the tired, slightly lost-looking mare beneath. “I don't see my family very often, given my ... career. Too busy.”

“Understandable.”

“And, I may have ... implied in a letter that I was seeing somepony. To keep my parents off my case. And now the Top family reunion’s coming up, and my mother and father want to meet my ... special somepony.”

“So you've been reading cheap romance novels instead of cheap adventure novels. Got it.”

“I'm being serious.” Carrot Top's blush would have been cute, if it weren't for the fact I once saw her break a changeling's spine with her bare hooves.

“But why me? As we both know I'm honestly the worst possible prospect you could bring home. What, with the cadding and the drinking and all the other reasons you don't like me.”

“There ... aren't any other prospects.” Carrot Top looked into her drink.

“Balderdash. You're ... “ I looked her over for a moment, and took another sip of my drink. “Pleasant enough to look at. Not my type, personally, but it's not your fault you weren't born with wings. I'm sure you could rope in a date easily enough. Literally, if you had to.”

“Thanks. I think.” Carrot Top said, deadpan. “But, bringing in a random ... civilian would be even worse. I'd have to lie to them and my family, and there'd be too much of a chance of me being found out. And I can't bring anyone from ... work, because that could jeopardize their cover. Which leaves you, Sentry. You're the only pony I know who I trust to lie to my family.”

“You've thought all this out, haven't you?”

Carrot Top nodded.

“So you won't be surprised when I tell you 'no.'” I drained my mug, and the last of the coffee seared its way down my throat. “I appreciate your assistance earlier this evening, but given how I saved your life back in that changeling hive, I'd say we're even.”

“I figured you'd say that.” Carrot Top smiled the sort of knowing smile that made my guts twist. “I can't force you-- or, well, I could, but if I knocked you out and dragged you to my family reunion in a steamer trunk, that'd just bring up more questions. So, if you don't want to help me, you're free to go.”

“I am?” I said, suspicious.

“You are. You might want to start thinking of a story to tell the police, though. I'm sure somepony recognized the great Flash Sentry back at the casino-- I wouldn't be surprised if the vice squad made it a point to ask you some questions ... “

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“But that's nothing you can't wrap up with a good lawyer.” Carrot Top took a bite of her doughnut, gulped it down, and continued. “And you'd only be in the papers for a week, maybe two, until something else pops up to distract them. Unless ... “

“Unless?”

“Unless the local branch of the Equestrian Intelligence Office mentions that you were assisting us on a particularly sticky investigation. Very classified, you know.” Carrot Top had the gall to wink at me. Whatever embarrassment she'd had of her situation disappeared as soon as she had the chance to fall back into smug condescension.

The pieces fell into place. “Damnation-- you set me up!”

“And?” Carrot Top finished her doughnut, and dabbed the crumbs from her chin with a napkin.

“I bet you were the one who said I cheated, too.”

“You're catching on.”

“This is blackmail.”

“Your point?”

I facehooved, resigning myself to my fate. “When is this reunion, exactly?”

“Our train leaves at nine o'clock tomorrow. I'll meet you at the platform.” Carrot Top turned to go.

“But--” I held up a hoof. “This better not be some contrived excuse to spend time with me because you've secretly fallen in love with me on account of my dashing good looks and so on.”

“Trust me.” Carrot Top shook her head, ruefully. “That won't be a problem.”

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

Huzzah! More of the Flash Sentry Papers. This should be quite good.

You're the only pony I know who I trust to lie to my family.

I love how much this says about both Carrot Top and Flash.

Very intriguing opening. I look forward to seeing just how disastrous the reunion gets.

[Chris]

This is all some insidious plot on your part to get me to read the first Flash Sentry Papers story, isn't it?

...Well, it's working.

[ShadowLDrago]

Yet again, this fascinates me.

[Seether00]

Don't make me feel sorry for him. Don't do it.

[Emptybee]

8234804
You mean you haven't already? I thought you were legally obligated to read any story containing Carrot Top.

[Aziraphael]

Hmmm... I liked the old style for the footnotes better. This way may be more "authentic", but it makes reading them a real pain in the ass. You have to either keep scrolling back and forth through the chapter as you read it, or hope you remember what all of the different numbers were attached to by the time you get to the end.

[jqnexx]

Was the bit about the Kung Fu master foreshadowing for Five Friendly Venoms, or did it just work out that way?