• Published 14th Aug 2023
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Derpy's Vice - J3sterking



At the end of a long day of work in the mob, Derpy goes to scratch an itch she's had...she goes to get some muffins.

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For Want of a Muffin

Derpy Hooves threw aside the empty cartridge, putting a fresh one into her AK-47. "That's the last of 'em!" she called out.

Capper chuckled, pulling his head up from behind his cover. "I can see that," he said, discharging a series of spent casings from his revolver. "You'd think these guys would have learned who the kingpin is at this point." He holstered the handgun, stepping up and striding lithely across the room.

"You know, it is really weird," Derpy said. "This is the third time this week."

"The boys downstairs are all set up for a fourth, so why not you take some time off?" Capper said, stepping to his desk. After a few times replacing the desk in his oversized office, Capper had eventually just replaced it with one made of mostly metal, and that was the end to that.

Capper pulled out a bottle of wine, pouring himself a glass—bulletproof wineglasses had also turned into a necessity from the number of gangs trying to take him out. "Everything's sorted out here, so you just get some well-deserved rest."

Derpy put a hand on her chin. She didn't like to leave work unfinished, and there was still some cleanup to do...

But she felt the Call. Her Vice would need to be satisfied tonight.

"Alright, if you've got everything up here," Derpy said, stowing the AK-47 in her jacket's holster. Unless anyone questioned the completely unsuspicious bulge, it would be invisible. She paused by one of the corpses, thinking. Then, she reached down, looting his handgun. "This is a good gun," she commented.

"Keep it," Capper said with a shrug. Normally, those stuck with clean-up duty got first looting rights, but the unspoken rules said that the MVP—normally Derpy—got to claim one item regardless.

Taking a spare magazine off the corpse, Derpy strode to the elevator, then pushed the '1' button. She holstered her new handgun—she'd accidentally broke the last one—she flipped open the magazine.

Thankfully, this gangster seemed to be into watches. Most of the magazines they had were of a thoroughly less enjoyable nature, but she liked watches.

She checked the one she currently wore—a fancy gold one looted from one of the gangsters killed earlier that week. Of course, it was broken, and the gears moved precisely seventeen-point-three percent slower than a normal watch's—she'd checked. This lead to it always being slightly off, but never by the exact same amount of time. Not that she minded—it was still pretty, and gold was gold. It never corroded, and never went out of style.

The elevator finally dinged, hitting the bottom floor. Derpy let out a breath—999 floors was quite a lot for a single building, it was almost ridiculous. She knew that some of the buildings off in Cloudsdale could get bigger, and she simply couldn't imagine waiting all day in the elevator. Might as well just pull out a sleeping bag and take a nap!

Derpy strode through the main lobby, pausing by the front desk. She looked up as the city's local crime-fighting vigilante--'Mare Do Well' or something like that—flung past, hitting the wall.

Lyra and Bon-Bon leapt past her, the former with her fire-axe, and the latter with her bronze knuckles, as they leapt back into the melee.

"They've been at this for thirty minutes," Moondancer said, looking up from her own magazine. "Mare Do Well didn't schedule her appointment before coming in to take down Capper."

Derpy ducked as the fire axe soared over her head, embedding itself in the wall behind the front desk. "Need any help?" she asked.

"I thought the boss said you had some time off," Moondancer said, checking the intercom. "Go rest, you've earned it. Let those two imbeciles earn their keep for once."

A tooth sailed past Derpy's head, shortly followed by Lyra.

"Mother—" Bon-Bon flung to the side, but was quickly back up, tackling Mare Do Well around the waist and careening off into a statue.

Derpy almost joined in, she could have finished it in less than a minute...

But her Vice called to her. Some calls you couldn't put on hold, and the Vice's grip was too strong.

Bon-Bon could handle this, even if she was calling for her mother—how would her mother even hear her, anyway?

Derpy strode out the front doors, then made her way across town to where her Vice awaited.


Some men had their cigarettes. Capper seemed impartial to liquor. Others, more...base instincts(though no one had yet explained to Derpy what those were).

Derpy's Vice was not the same as those, but it's pull was just as strong(or, so she assumed).

She sat down on a stool at the bar, looking up to the barkeeper. She gave a nod, saying, "One muffin."

The barkeeper went into the back, clearly prepping to make a batch of muffins. No matter how many times she said, 'one muffin', anyone who looked into her eyes could know clearly that the night would end at far more than that.

The Vice was too powerful. She couldn't stop herself at just one muffin. She'd never been able to.

The barkeeper returned, but something...something was off.

She set down the muffin. Derpy stared at it, then slowly reached over and scraped some of the white icing off the top. "This isn't a muffin," she said slowly.

The sprinkles on top of the evil pastry spelled out, "HAPPY ARREST DAY".

Derpy blinked as a shotgun was leveled at her face.

Several other bar patrons whipped out guns, all pointing at Derpy.

Sporting a manic grin, the barkeeper said, "How nice of you to stop by. We've been waiting for you." She whipped out a party favor, lit one end on fire, and stuck the other in her mouth. She blew on it, emitting a puff of smoke that smelled vaguely of burning sprinkles.

Derpy picked up the pastry, holding it in the palm of her hand. "This isn't a muffin," she said through gritted teeth.

"Um," the evil barkeeper said, looking confused. She gave her party favor another puff, saying, "Isn't...isn't that obvious? What kind of bar would sell muffins, anyway?"

"This..." Derpy crushed the pastry, sending bits of icing and confectionary flying to the seven corners of the Earth. "THIS IS A CUPCAKE!" she bellowed.

Her fury caught the villains off guard. She grabbed the barrel of the shotgun, yanking it from the villain's grasp. The barkeeper let out a startled yelp, flying over the counter, and landing hard on her pink tush. Derpy swung the shotgun, knocking out the closest...cop? They might have been cops, might have been gangsters, but she couldn't really tell just this minute. Her fury was incandescent.

She dodged beneath oncoming gunfire, whipping out her new handgun. It had about eight bullets a magazine, so that could take out eight people—more than enough for the six people shooting at her.

She emptied the four remaining bullets into the next closest person, before she stopped to think about it. She ducked over him, clubbing the next one with the handgun—which broke—and whirling past to the next. Letting the destroyed gun drop, she caught the next thug around his throat, using her as a shield.

Much to her surprise, the others did not stop shooting. Derpy blinked as her human shield cried out, getting shot almost seven times before the ringleader shouted, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! STOP, STOP, STOP!"

The gunfire stopped after a second, and Derpy let her dead hostage fall to the sound of clips being reloaded.

"What the hell, guys?" the evil barkeeper said, looking at her minions. "You...you just merced Sunny Meadows!"

"That's downright mean," Derpy agreed. "Why would you keep shooting?"

"Well—" one of them said, looking to her fellows. "I dunno?"

"It was her birthday tomorrow!" the ringleader burst out.

"Oh my God," Derpy said, covering her mouth. "I didn't know that! I'd have used the other guy as a shield!"

"No, no—you're cool," the ringleader said, holding up placating hands. "Human shields, it's a classic. Besides, Sunny would never have used her birthday to leverage a tactical advantage, God bless her soul." She swiped a hat from somewhere, holding it over her chest.

The other three at least had the decency to look apologetic, taking off their hats and holding them over their chests.

Derpy would have, too, but she'd lost her hat ages ago.

"Alright, that's handled," the ringleader said cheerily, before turning to Derpy. "You ready?"

"Yup!"

"Okay, KEEP SHOOTING, YOU IDIOTS!"

Derpy ducked into a roll, but instead of dodging away, charged towards the gunfire. Most of their bullets went far over her head, the rest blowing up bits of wood flooring around her. She rolled into the group, shoved the shotgun up against one of them, and fired.

Somehow, she expected the pink shotgun with sprinkles and festive cheer to actually shoot bullets. Instead, it made a loud, festive-sounding explosion, sending the ambusher flying back in a burst of confetti, but relatively unharmed.

Derpy rolled one of her eyes, then clubbed the right-hand hooligan with the but of the gun. Just as the left got over her surprise, whipping the gun on Derpy, Derpy shoved the shotgun's barrel up against her chin and fired.

The gun had enough recoil to instantly knock the the thug out, her gun flying to the ground. Derpy turned to the middle one, then fell upon her. Derpy kicked her into the table, then confetti-blasted her. The table shattered, the thug falling to the ground as Derpy emptied the 'shotgun's' remaining clips into her. She groaned without rising, and Derpy threw the gun, hitting the right thug again just as she got back up.

Derpy turned to the ringleader. "End of the line," she said cheerily.

The ringleader grinned. "But not for me," she said, whipping out...

The ringleader frowned, patting her belt. She patted the other side, then emptied out her pants pockets. "Minuette, did you take my gun again?"

The thug Derpy threw the gun at sat up, blinking one eye open. "No, it's not on me," she groaned. She rubbed her jaw, adding, "Ow."

"Ugh, of course it's not on you, you always take it without asking, then lose it," the ringleader groaned. "What am I supposed to do now? She stole my party shotgun, so I don't even have that!"

"Why bring your party shotgun to a real shootout?" Derpy asked.

"It was right next to me regular shotgun, I mixed them up," she said with a sigh. "I should put a bow on one of them. Look, this is just awkward now, can we reschedule?"

"Sure," Derpy said. "Same time, next week?"

"Week after," she said. "I've got to change birthday party plans to funeral party plans, MINUETTE."

"I wasn't the only one shooting!" Minuette complained.

"But you were the one who shot Sunny in the face, so yeah, I'm blaming you," the ringleader said, hands on her hips.

Derpy sat at the bar right as the real bartender came out of the back. Her eyes widened, jaw dropping. "What in Tarnation—PINKIE!" Her face fell into a grimace of fury. "Did you infiltrate my bar to ambush a gangster AGAIN?"

"Um—"

"Get out! And don't le'me see ya comin' round here again!" the bartender shouted. "Dammit, you wrecked my tables—mah floor!" She paused. "My customers are gone! Consarn it, Pie!"

"Can I get a muffin to go?" Derpy asked with a sigh.

"Huh? We—we don't sell muffins," the bartender blinked. "We...we never have."

"Wait, isn't this Sour Sweet's Confectionaries?"

"No, Adam's Apple Bar," the bartender said, raising an eyebrow.

Derpy slammed a hand into her face. "D'oh. My bad." She paused, then looked around. "Oh, shoot. I busted up your place and I'm not even a customer...you want me to help clean up?"

"No, thanks, I got it," the bartender said. "Nice of ya to offer, though. It'd take more than that to save this place, anyhow."

"Oh, no! What's happening?" Derpy leaned against the bar, concern in her eyes. Her Vice...could wait just a moment. She had amends to make.

"Well...I jest can't afford the protection money the local gang's demanding, and Pinkie's...well, a good friend, but a few bullets short a full clip," Applejack said, tapping the side of her head.

People had said the same thing about Derpy, actually, though she swore her clip was full...she'd just reloaded it as she left Capper's place, right? Well, not the pistol's clip.

"Which gang?" Derpy asked.

"Um—the Wonderbolts? Why?"

"Hmm...they're the boss's rivals, too." She looked around the bar thinking. "Here, how about this? I go handle the Wonderbolts, and you handle my Vice."

"You're...you're what?"

"Muffins. A dozen...no, make it a baker's. Baker's dozen." She whipped out the AK-47, grinning. "Do we have a deal?"

"Uh—sure?"

Derpy was out the door in the blink of an eye.


The Wonderbolts weren't a small gang, so she stopped by Capper's place again.

As she neared the front entrance, the window shattered, and Bon-Bon flew out, skidding across the gravel, with Mare Do Well right behind her. Mare Do Well landed on top of Bon-Bon, repeatedly punching her in the face.

Lyra charged past Derpy, holding a chainsaw aloft, screaming, "VALHALLAAAAAA!"

Derpy stepped into the foyer, walking right up to Moondancer. "Hey, got any extra munitions?"

"Uh, some. Aren't you off duty?"

"Yeah, but I wanted some extra bullets before taking on the Wonderbolts," Derpy said.

"Why are you taking on the Wonderbolts?" Moondancer burst out.

"For muffins."

Moondancer stared at her, slack-jawed.

Rather than focus on the shock her depravity, her Vice, had brought upon the poor woman, Derpy said, "I want a new handgun and an extra 47 mag, please."

"Another handgun? You know, if you stopped clubbing people with them, they'd stop breaking," Moondancer sighed, retrieving the requested items from under the counter.

Holstering the gun and pocketing the mag, Derpy just sighed. "I know."


Derpy found that knocking on doors with one's feet tended to be definitively attention-getting.

The front door to the Wonderbolt's building—clearly marked, thankfully—flew inside, skidding across the ground to land at the feet of one of them.

"Hi!" Derpy called out cheerily. Politeness was professional courtesy. "I'm looking for Rainbow Dash?"

The thug gave a grin. "Well, well, well," she said. "You found her, Hooves. Long time no see."

Derpy stared at her. Had she met her before?

"I figured I'd see you again some day. All those lost races musta really stuck in your mind, huh?"

Derpy frowned, tapping her chin. "When was this?"

Rainbow blinked. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I don't really remember. Hold on—I did some racing back in sixth grade," she said, tapping her chin. "And the winner was...oh! You were the winner!" She grinned. "I don't think I ever got to tell you good job! You were fast!"

"Wait—this--this isn't a revenge trip?" Rainbow's shoulders sagged. "You don't even remember me?"

"Not well. Did you dye your hair?"

Several chuckles ran up amongst the Wonderbolts.

"No, it's naturally these colors!" Rainbow exclaimed.

"Really? Huh...strange, I thought your hair was purple..." Derpy scratched her head, puzzled.

"No, it's naturally rainbow colored!"

"Oh. I guess I must be thinking of somebody else." She paused. "Maybe the second-place racer?"

"Oh, just shut up! Why are you here?" Rainbow pulled out a machine pistol.

"Oh, right! Applejack at the Adam's Apple promised to make me muffins if I got you to stop demanding protection money from her."

There was a stunned silence.

Rainbow looked to her minions. "Get her," she growled.

Truly, she was furious at the depths Derpy had sunk to to satisfy her Vice. Derpy reached into her jacket, saying, "So, I guess it's time to show why people call me Bubbles, huh?"

"Who calls you that?" Rainbow demanded.

"Um...some people? I think I heard it once." Derpy shrugged, pulling out two grenades from her jacket, then threw them into the assembled Wonderbolts.

A series of panicked cries rang out as they all ducked for cover. After a second, Rainbow peaked out, then picked up the grenade. "You forgot to take the pins off," she said slowly.

Derpy slammed a hand into her face. "Why is that so hard to remember?" she muttered. She took out her third grenade, pulled the pin off, then threw it.

This one exploded, sending miscellaneous gore and rubble scattering. Rainbow Dash opened fire, but Derpy ducked into a roll, whipping out her pistol. A magnum of some sort. She unloaded it, mostly missing. Her aim had never been good, but she did take out one or two of the closer ones.

She grinned, whipping out the AK-47 she was certain they hadn't noticed. She opened fire—the neat thing about working for the biggest criminal kingpin in Las Pegasus was that she could practically load her weapons with coins and not feel bad about opening fire at the broad side of a barn.

Startled cries rang out as she threw out the empty clip, ducking behind a desk that she kicked over. Bullets immediately shot threw it, hitting the walls on either side of her. Derpy clicked her tongue, lamenting on the shoddy workmanship, before stuffing the extra AK-47 clip into the gun.

She jumped out from cover, dodging through the maelstrom of bullets.

"Just aim, dammit!" Rainbow screamed. "Aim and actually shoot that bitch!"

Derpy sprayed some rounds into the nearest group of Wonderbolts as she pulled out her last grenade. She almost threw it, then paused. "Oh, silly me," she said, pulling the pin off with her teeth. She spat it aside, then threw the grenade.

More screams rang out as she twirled, whipping the magnum back out. It's shots didn't do much, but she hit at least someone with it.

Derpy finally came to a stop, in the middle of a vast sea of carnage. Directly across from her stood Rainbow Dash, guns held at her sides. "So, this is how it ends," she said, grinning.

Derpy shot out her right kneecap.

Rainbow toppled like a tyrannical regime, screaming as she clutched her knee. "I was talking, you bitch!" she shouted.

Derpy holstered her magnum, and then the AK-47. "So, are you gonna stop demanding protection money from Applejack?"

"To hell with you!" Rainbow shouted. "You and your muffins can go to hell, and don't come back!"

"Oh. Who's your second?"

"L-Lightning Dust? Why do you want to know?"

"Miss Dust! Are you still alive?"

"Over here," a voice coughed, a bruised face ducking out from behind the rubble.

"Oh, that makes that easier," Derpy said, reaching over to a piece of rebar. She hefted it, and the concrete block it was sticking out of.

Rainbow scuttled away, eyes going wide. "Wait, wait, wait! Okay! You win! I won't ever bother Applejack again! Promise!"

"Oh, really?" Derpy grinned. "Thanks!" She dropped the concrete block. Directly onto Rainbow's good foot.

"NGAAAAAAAAAAA--!"


"You won't have to worry about the Wonderbolts anymore," Derpy said, striding into the Adam's Apple.

Truth be told, the place certainly looked somewhat fixed up. "Wow, you got this place fixed quickly!"

Applejack stared at her. "Bloody hell, girl, you look rough."

"Thanks!" Always look at things in a positive light, that's what her mother had said. Anything could be taken as a compliment, with the right attitude.

Derpy sat down at the bar. "So...my Vice. Is it done?"

"Er...eeeeyup," Applejack drawled slowly. "Anytime ya want muffins, come by and I'll whip up a batch for ya."

She set a baker's dozen muffins on the counter, then grinned. "It's the least I can do t'thank ya for what you've done!"

"No problem! All in a day's time off!"

"Pardon?"

As Derpy listened to the distant sounds of Mare Do Well fighting Bon-Bon and Lyra("Time to die, hero!"), she said, "Oh, Capper gave me time off, so I wanted muffins. Gotta scratch that itch somehow, right?"

Applejack blinked. "Wait, if this was all for muffins..." She scratched her head. "...Why not just...go across the street...to Sour Sweet's Confectionaries'?"

Derpy stared at her for a long minute. Then, she slammed her palm into her face. "Dammit."

Author's Note:

Well, this was a bit of a random thing. Written from a prompt I got from Bean's Writing Group, to clear some writer's block. I saw 'Mafia AU' and 'Derpy's Night on the Town', and merged them to get Derpy shooting up thirty people just to get a batch of muffins, with an anime-showdown with Mare-Do-Well happening in the background. I hope you enjoyed this one, I had fun writing it! I bolted this one out over the course of my morning.
Well wishes to all, and I hope to see you in the next one!

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