Derpy Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap!)

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 20: An Obvious Realization

Spoiled Rich was, of course, busy being spoiled. Which she was every day. It was a full time job, to the point where it was almost tiring. But somepony had to do it, and she- -in her own opinion, which was of course the most informed- -was the only one qualified to do it.

She had already received her weekly pedicure at the local spa for the unfortunately low cost of three hundred bits, and now sat in what she supposed (incorrectly) to be her conservatory, watching the sun outside and drinking the most expensive coffee known to ponies. It was the kind that had gone through a civet. A TALKING civet. Spoiled could not help but wonder if she could somehow find the fur of said civet, to wear to fancy parties. Like the Canterlot Gala that she was sure to be invited to next gala season.

Considering that a great idea, she wrote it down with one of her new unicorn-horn fountain pens. Then she leaned back and looked at her Canterlot paper. By now, she was sure, Fluttershy would have been brutally terminated, meeting the end of her short but adorable life screaming and covered in various secretions. Spoiled rejoiced deeply in that thought, for no other reason than because she could afford to.

Her husband entered the room, humming to himself and dressed for a workout. He paused to smell several of the exotic flowers that grew in the “conservatory”. Spoiled supposed they were a kind of rose, but she did not know or care. All that mattered was that they were expensive.

Filthy jumped. “Spoiled!” he squeaked. “Oh my Celestia, I didn’t see you there! You just blend in so very well with all these beautiful flowers!”

He leaned over and kissed her. She tolerated it. He was, after all, quite wealthy.

Filthy looked down at the paper. “The Canterlot Column?” he said. “I always liked the comics in that one! Unicorns can be so witty!”

“Because their brains aren’t good for much else.”

“Oh Spoiled!” laughed Filthy, thinking it was a joke. “But hey, have you seen the local paper? What happened to the mayor? It’s just terrible!”

Spoiled smiled, but carefully. “Oh yes,” she said, coolly. “Terrible indeed. I’ll have to send a card with our condolences. After all, she was so very young.”

“I know! If she had died it would have been such a shame!”

“Yes, it certainly- -wait, WHAT?”

“Oh yes. You didn’t read about it? It was in the morning news! A headline on the front page! It turns out she was saved by some anonymous hero!”

“Saved- -what- -NOT- -DEAD?!”

“Yeah!” Filthy sounded almost in awe. “Somepony put her in a tub of ice and called the hospital! Why, they said that if she had just been left lying there, the fever would have left her with the brain of an eggplant- -or worse!” He laughed, sounding relieved. “But because she was packed in ice, she narrowly made it, thank Celestia’s hindquarters. She’s recovering in the hospital.”

Spoiled gawked at him. This was inconceivable.

“I guess that means the property tax will go through.” Filthy sighed, but smiled. “Oh well. I suppose it would be nice to have a better school. And paved roads. And oh! I hear we’ll be getting an airmail depot! But isn’t that our duty as wealthy ponies, to help those below us rise to our level?” He paused for a moment. “Of course, even with our income, we won’t be able to afford this house. But that’s okay. I was thinking of moving into my dad’s old townhouse. That way we can be nice and close with our customers, really understand what they need and want.”

“You- -YOU- -” Spoiled sputtered. If any pony besides Filthy had told her this, he or she would probably be in the processes of meeting Celestia’s divine rump in the pony afterlife. Something had gone wrong, but Spoiled just could not fathom it.

“Well, we can discuss that later, of course,” said Filthy. “I’ve got some cardio scheduled. Got to keep in shape! I’d hate to end up like my dad and not live long enough to show Diamond Tiara how to run the company!” He checked his extremely expensive watch (one that had been a gift from his father). “I actually hired a trainer, she should be here any- -”

Something swooshed by with such force that Spoiled was nearly knocked out of her chair; her expensive haircut was immediately ruined by the breeze. A rainbow contrail swooped by and landed next to Spoiled. Spoiled, on the verge of screaming, gawked, because standing right in front of her was a familiar Pegasus- -except that she was not dressed in a track jacket and exceedingly tight spandex shorts.

“Wow! Talk about punctuality!” exclaimed Filthy, laughing.

“I know, right!” Rainbow Dash laughed, and then turned to Spoiled. “Hey, it’s you!”

“Oh, you’ve met my wife!”

“Wife?!” Rainbow Dash looked exceedingly surprised. “Whoa. My admiration for you just went WAY up. You must be the most patient stallion in the whole world!”

“Well, you don’t get anywhere in business by being too hasty! Or in personal life, I suppose.”

“Hopefully you don’t have that attitude on the track. Are you ready to run?”

“I sure am!”

“Well I hope you like looking at my spandex-covered underage flank! Because I’ll bet you a whole bottle of cloud that you’ll be spending the whole two hours looking at it!”

“Oh ho HO! You’d be surprised, I was quite a runner in my day!” Filthy had already started to jog excitedly. “Spoiled, care to join us? Not that you need exercise at all, seeing as your figure is excellent, but I’d love to spend time with you.”

“She’s…not…dead…”

“Eh, she’s busy,” said Rainbow Dash. She dropped to the ground and broke into a trot right through the conservatory. “Come on, Filthy! Get that wealthy flank MOVING!”

“It’s Rich, please!” called Filthy, following after Rainbow Dash on her path to the garden. He paused only to blow his wife a kiss.

Spoiled, however, hardly noticed. There was a strong possibility that somewhere, somehow, she had burst a blood vessel. And a big one.

Then the situation grew worse. Filthy was barely through the door when it was thrown open with such force that it shattered several hideous vases stashed through the room, and a pair of tall, thin, hornless unicorns pushed their way in.

“No,” said Spoiled. “NO.”

“I’m sorry, madam,” said Randolph, looking ragged and tried. “I tried to hold them back, but they were very insistent! And I think they’ve been greased!”

“Grease? Why, you insult us!”

“We are legitimate salesponies, not greasy at all!”

“Even if we slather ourselves with bubber.”

“So the cops can’t get a grip on us, mind you.”

“Simply a professional precaution!”

“We only break the law when it’s unjust!”

Spoiled stood up. “WHY ARE NEITHER OF YOU DEAD!?”

They turned to her, both about to speak- -when their eyes fell on the pair of horn fountain pens she had in her possession. They immediately looked angry, but Spoiled took little comfort in their impotent, hornless rage.

“Why, you dirty pink- -”

“We suspected you had something to do with it, but this, THIS- -”

“You had us uncorned!”

“Yes. I did. And you were supposed to be DEAD when it happened!”

Flim picked up his horn. Or perhaps his brother’s. His eyes widened. “Did you- -did you turn this into a pen?”

“Yes. So what?”

“So you’re an earth-pony,” said Flam.

“So?”

“So,” said Flim, “you’ll be sticking our horns in your mouth whenever you right.”

Spoiled, having not realized this before, blushed deep crimson. It had not occurred to her that she had been giving them post-mortem horn licking.

“You filthy PERVERTS!” she cried, swatting at Flim. Luckily, he was fast enough to dodge, as a blow form an earth-pony probably would have pulverized his fragile unicorn bones.

“Why would you do this? What did we ever do to you?!”

“You refused to help me! Then you had the nerve- -the HORN- -to show up in MY town to laugh at me- -”

“We were NOT laughing at you!”

“Well, not to your face.”

Spoiled laughed, and Flim and Flam both suddenly felt afraid. The earth-pony butler sealed the door behind them, and they realized that they had been locked in a room with a mare who had cut off their horns and would probably do far worse to them. Both of them knew that even with their generous coating of butter, the situation was grim.

“I was generous, you know. I offered to let you help me. To be partners. I don’t extend that to filthy, inferior races that often, but I did to you.”

“Because you wanted a fall pony!”

“Shut your pie-hole before I shut it for you!” snapped Spoiled. “You will LISTEN when I’m talking, and talk when I TELL YOU TO.” She burst out in laughter again. Flim and Flam started to shake.

Spoiled approached them, picking up their horns and rolling them in her hoof. They made a horrible, dead scraping sound.

“You wanted to form a business, didn’t you?

Flim and Flam looked at each other. “Is that…is that permission to speak?”

“YES.”

They cringed. “We did. We came here to start it.”

“Except I already did. I beat you to it. Do you know why? Initiative. Skill. Charisma.”

Flim and Flam looked at each other again, clearly not understanding.

“Business?”

“Yes. The same one you wanted to start, probably to have me wake up in a pool of my own juices. COLD juices.”

“Um…” They were blushing at this point.

“But I did it first. You wanted to make a business to ‘solve certain problems’? I already DID. I hired the hitmare, and I sent her out. To ‘solve’ ponies…by killing them! And I sent her to turn both of you into strawberry pudding. But it looks like she only managed to get your horns.”

Flim and Flam’s jaws dropped. “You- -you’re a MONSTER!” they cried.

“Murder?” squealed Flim. “M- -murder?”

“Ponies can’t murder!” shrieked Flam. “Just the thought of it- -”

“Oh please,” said Spoiled, rolling her eyes. “You were trying to do the same thing. To start a hitmare business.”

“We were trying to start a sexy maid service!”

“What?”

“What kind of pony do you take us for?! That we- -that we would even think- -Oh, Flim, I need to be sick!”

“NOT ON MY CARPET! It costs more than you do!”

Flam turned green, but managed to hold it in.

“Now,” said Spoiled. She had begun to pace. “You mean to tell me that this whole time, you weren’t planning an hitmare agency at all?”

“No pony in their right mind would- -”

Spoiled shot Flim a look. Flim recoiled.

“Yes or no. ANSWER.”

“No.”

“And you led me on anyway that you were?”

“NO!”

“I don’t appreciate being LIED TO,” snapped Spoiled. “But you’re perceptive. The reason I wanted to hire you was to act as middleponies, so that if my hitmare got caught, you would take the fall. Do you know what the punishment would be?”

Flam gulped. “N…no…”

“The glue factory. And before that, hung by your horns.” She smiled. “Except you don’t have any anymore.”

“They’ll grow back.”

“Yes. But I think the courts would rather hang you by…well, something else instead.”

Flim and Flam gasped, but they both knew that she was serious. The penalty for running an unregistered sexy maid service was to be tickled on the wheel, but to run an assassination agency was probably worth something far worse indeed.

“But now, I have a bit of a problem. My assassin, apparently, is an idiot.”

“Or she didn’t want to kill ponies.”

“No. She is an idiot. A mental defective. I have proof. That’s the whole reason I hired her, because she’ll never amount to anything else in life. I didn’t imagine that she was so stupid she couldn’t even figure out how to actually do the deed.”

“It’s harder than you would expect,” said Randolph.

“Really?” Spoiled hefted one of the horn-pens and threw it suddenly. It whizzed past Flim’s face by millimeters and imebbed itself six inches in a stone column. “Because one more inch, and I think I would have done it.”

“I…I think I peed,” whispered Flim.

“Randolph will take care of it. It’s not the first time.”

Randolph sighed. “Of course, madam.”

“Now,” said Spoiled. “Here’s my problem. My hitmare has gone rogue. And that’s a problem. Mainly because she hasn’t killed anypony- -except maybe those stupid Apples, and I don’t even think that was her- -but that’s not even the biggest half of it.”

“A half is…half, though…”

“Stop talking. The PROBLEM is that she knows I was soliciting for ponies to die. Even if she didn’t do the deed, I’m guilty of a felony.”

Flim and Flam looked at each other and smiled, their eyes twinkling with realization.

“Well, then, it would certainly be helpful- -”

“If I paid you to keep your mouths shut? No. I don’t have time to play games. You two are going to help me find her. And get rid of her.”

Flim laughed. “Mrs. Spoiled, I don’t think you realize what position you’re in. You did just admit- -”

“No. If you don’t help me, I’ll go to the guards right now and tell them that the both of you held me down and snuggled me without my consent.”

Flim and Flam gasped, but only slightly- -although it was too late. Spoiled now smiled, knowing that they were beat.

“Preposterous!”

“We would never!”

“Especially not with you!”

“It doesn’t matter if you did or not. Two penniless vagabond con-ponies against the richest mare in Ponyville? Who do you think ponies will believe?”

“But- -you can’t!”

“But you already did. Don’t you remember? Poking me with your filthy, stupid horns.”

“But we don’t even have horns! You uncorned us!”

“It doesn’t even matter! I paid for the reelection campaigns of every judge in the reason! Facts? Who cares about facts?! I could basically write the conviction myself and have you thrown into a mare’s only prison tomorrow. You’d be snuggled flat by morning. Maybe by a Bertha, or an Agnes…”

Flam shivered. “Not a Bertha! Anything but a Bertha!”

“TWO BERTHAS!” laughed Spoiled. Then she calmed herself. “Unless you help me.”

Flim and Flam conversed telepathically, what with being twins and all. One of them, they found, was slightly turned on by this whole endeavor.

“That is,” continued Spoiled. “I’m willing to let you leave. In peace. And never be bothered by me again.”

“Right,” said Flim. “What do you want from us?”

“Kill Derpy. Kill her until she is very, VERY dead. And her eldest daughter too, just in case. No witnesses. Then you can go.”

Flim and Flam paused for a long moment. Knowing there was no other option, though, they nodded, and the deal was made. Sparkler, who was in the process of phasing through the room at an eight-dimensional orthogonal pattern, found it all terribly amusing.

Derpy would die soon enough.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

“It’s harder than you would expect,” said Randolph.

Randolph has seen things...

In any case... yeah, I don't see this ending well for anyone involved. Or whatever's left of their dignity.