The Little Curiosities

by Comma Typer

Play It Again, Spade

The tapping of the typewriter stops when the incessant door-knocking cannot be ignored anymore.

“Do you mind?” Dashing Courbette says in her highfalutin accent. “Writing a mystery novel with magic is hard enough as it is without riffraff like you!”

“Sorry, ma’am,” says the stranger on the other side. “Important delivery.”

Patting her trench coat’s pockets to check if they’re full, she stands up to get the door. “Fine, fine... but I sure don’t remember ordering anything—“

Hit with an uppercut to the horn, and she goes down. Courbette screams, but the newly-teleported gag on her face does her no favors—along with the tying her body down. She can do nothing as the burglar ransacks the room for stuff and then...

“Ah, yes!” He holds up the typewriter and a box of manuscripts in his magic grip. “This will sell well in the Mareidian black market... oh, you don’t know how many ponies want a piece of salaciously unfinished writing! It’s like literary gold... black gold! Ha-ha! You can’t... w-wait, what’s that?”

And Courbette cocks the pistol in her magic hold. “A gun. Never heard of these before?”

“Argh! I only have knives! Well, no matter! Can’t shoot me when I’m gone!”

In a teleporting flash, he disappears and with him, the typewriter and her manuscripts.

In her pillaged room, she looks on in dismay. Any temporary triumph was vanquished into horror at what lay before her: an empty desk, her hard work down the drain.

Something coming loose off her body: the rope.

Her gag comes off and a face comes into view. “Need a helping hoof?”

Courbette gets up with the help of this newer stranger, holding onto her for support. The visitor wears a thicker trench coat than hers, tied up with a ribbon—and a fedora all ribboned up too.

The unicorn scans her up and down. “Huh. Didn’t expect a fan to help me up like this.”

“Oh, I am not a fan, Miss Courbette.” The visitor bats a heavily-eyelashed smile. “In fact, I’m just the pony you need... and you’re just the pony I need.”

And Courbette blinks, stepping back from this pony’s voice. “You sound just like me! Unless... o-oh, no, th-this can’t be happening, can it?”

“It can happen, and, yes, I’m you from the other world.” She straightens her coat, completing an image too familiar to Courbette to classify as mere happenstance. “However, between you and me: you don’t dive into some private sleuthing of your own, do you?”

Courbette shakes her head still spinning from that uppercut jab. “I... no, I don’t. I used to have a detective for a friend, but that’s all.”

“That’s alright.” The visitor paws the floor in thought. “Earth really hasn’t prepared for inter-dimensional crime... but, really, deep down, I just do the best I can for fellow ponies when not even the Royal Guard and their best lawyers can solve the case.”

And Courbette’s mind clicked. “Wait... y-you’re not just another Courbette... y-you’re... Sh-Shadow Spade?!”

Shadow Spade tips her hat. “The one and only—and I didn’t stutter there, mind you, so you know I play the part well. Living in seedy Manehattan will turn any kind heart to a vigilante.” She takes off her fedora, letting it hang on her ear and exposing her curled blue mane. “I used to just write mysteries like you do. When the Colic Nostra tried to siphon money from me because my stories were too close to the truth, however, I was plunged into mysteries and conspiracies far more sinister than I could’ve ever imagined... so I thought, might as well give them the humiliation of being beaten by some ‘fake hard-boiled detective.’”

Courbette remains in awe as Shadow Spade trots deeper into her room, Spade’s keen eye taking in every single detail—especially the empty table.

“With Earth’s sudden transformation and Equestria’s urgent need to send in aid,” she monologues as she holds up a magnifying glass against the table, “there just wasn’t enough security measures to catch aspiring crime lords. Felons here see Earth as a whole new playground for their filth: so many things here to steal and profiteer from, you see—and then you have post-humans who’re clueless in every facet of magic. Now, that stallion who just broke in your home?” She turned back to Courbette, flashing a smirk for her alter ego. “That’s Seawall Mortis. Once held in high esteem in the Equestrian Royal Navy, he soon realized the hideous pay-off in smuggling Earth trinkets into our world. And that’s why I’m here: to track him down and find out who he works for. Once we make him talk, I’ll be one step closer to figuring out the syndicate behind all of this.”

Courbette gulps. “’We?’ But I’m just a writer!”

"Nonsense! You’re me, and if there’s anything I know as someone who’s written and lived the noir genre, it’s that you’re analytical, you know how to smartly approach a case, and you can think outside a dozen boxes.” She frowns upon seeing the rope again. “Physical strength may be lacking, but that’s nothing a few days of crash course training can't fix.”

She espies a glimmer from Courbette’s holster. “Plus, other than just an extra set of hooves, you know better how to use human guns than I do. Equestria’s felons have no idea what kind of power you have in those tiny portable cannons.”

It makes Courbette stop, now aware of the pistol on her belt. She spins it around in magic, making outdated gun safety regulations cry uncle. “Why, yes, I do know a bit or two about that.”

“Then cancel your appointments for the next few days, dear me!” She stomps on the floor with theatrical flourish, stringing Courbette along by the hoof. “We have a mystery to solve!”

Comments

[Ninjadeadbeard]

This needs to be a whole series, just these two doing some sleuthing. Also, is every author in this universe secretly also a crime-fighting adventurer?!

Physical strength may be lacking, but that’s nothing a few days of crash course training can fix.

I think you meant can’t. But, seriously, every update is just perfect!

[FanOfMostEverything]

Next time, Courbette, just pull the trigger. Not necessarily at the thief, but, say, next to his ear. That'll disrupt his concentration something awful, make him drop the goods, and may be prompt him to flee outright.

... or just make him teleport without untying you. Bit of a risk.

Still, I suppose I can hardly blame an author indulging in a strategically unwise but dramatically satisfying boast. And I do love the idea that most if not all Equestrian fiction is autobiographical.

[Comma Typer]

10307604
When sonic rainbooms are possible by living creatures, then airplanes are probably would fall far behind on that front. Just imagine the races though: it'd be like a Paul Bunyan situation.

10417817
10417856
Thanks for the CPU clarification, and... well, I've gotten baseball fever over the past month or so, especially with getting Out of the Park Baseball 21 and general-managing the Seattle Mariners into somewhere that doesn't suck, among other things, so there's the inspiration for this two-scene shot.

Also, I agree with Mike Mackerel Trout that it's really just a bad coincidence. It makes for a good reaction though!

10417840
10417865
Thank you for the correction!

When it comes to writing fiction in a land where pastel winged unicorns raise the sun and moon with their magic and friendship is literally magic, the line between fiction and reality is more of a blur—and fiction threatens to be reality thanks to magic anyway. Hard to write a fantasy novel if you already live in a fantasy land.

Also, this was one of the things that kicked this chapter off.

images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/ce4545af-75ff-404d-b6b6-71cf8d1f95a8/dclrssv-11c3ce6b-4520-4b8e-8762-a3321975d443.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3sicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvY2U0NTQ1YWYtNzVmZi00MDRkLWI2YjYtNzFjZjhkMWY5NWE4XC9kY2xyc3N2LTExYzNjZTZiLTQ1MjAtNGI4ZS04NzYyLWEzMzIxOTc1ZDQ0My5wbmcifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6ZmlsZS5kb3dubG9hZCJdfQ.J1FwIJ_792tBtSQviCU7-zcMU-FkMoO5OFdc3h_RJTA

[Comma Typer]

10418006
We probably wouldn't get any more EqG at this point, but hey, that's what fan fic's for!

And, yeah, they're a cute couple, but of course, they'll never beat my OTP of ZephDash!

10419163
This is an Equestrian Earth though. With all the magic out there, perhaps Mackerel's bad luck may actually be a real magic-based thing!

[Eroraf86]

10444309
Catbird and horsebird OTP, fight me.

Jk, please don’t fight.