Chapter Three: Problem Solving
Kleptomania
Chapter Three: Problem Solving
"Oh, for crying out loud—please tell me you're pulling my leg."
"Uh... no, I'm pretty sure I'm stuck," she feebly replied. She tried to wiggle her way free, but if anything, I think that wedged herself further in. "Can you... can you give me a push?"
"Give me a second." I carefully placed my bag in a spot where it wouldn't fall and crawled halfway into the pipe before placing my hands flat against Umbra's back hooves. "Ready?" I asked.
"H-Hurry up!" she giggled. "My hooves are tick—hah!—ticklish!"
Taking a deep breath, I braced my feet against the concrete and pushed with all of my might. Instead of forcing her through whatever was holding her in place, pushing on Umbra's hooves seemed to only make her laugh from being tickled and grunt from the force of the push. I stopped when a yip of pain from Umbra made me realize it wasn't working.
"How the hell did you manage this?" I asked, panting from the combination of crouch-shuffling along the breakwater and heaving against Umbra's hooves.
Umbra plaintively struggled against her placement in the pipe before going slack. "I think the pipe gets skinnier as it goes," she sighed, "but it looks like it opens up more at the bend where the pipe goes down." She paused for a moment before asking, "Do you trust me?"
I hesitated, unsure of where Umbra was going with this. "What are you planning, Umbra?"
"Do you trust me?" she repeated.
I scratched the back of my neck through my black, cotton head covering. I had a bad feeling about this...
"I guess...?"
Umbra gulped, and I saw her tail twitch in what I assumed was nervousness.
Hey, don't give me that! Where else was I supposed to be looking?
"You could... umm... I mean, it wouldn't be that weird, right?" She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me.
"Umbra?" I asked cautiously. "What—exactly—wouldn't be that weird?"
I saw her tense. "Y-You could... push... my..." she trailed off.
I almost shouted before realizing where we were. Instead, I whispered harshly, "Push your what?! For Christ's sake, kid, we're burning moonlight—"
"I'm not a kid!"
"To me you are." She harrumphed, and I pinched my nose between a thumb and forefinger. I really didn't want to deal with this right now. Why was a simple robbery proving to be this difficult? "Please," I pleaded, "for the love of whatever deities will have me, tell me what you want me to do!"
Gone was the sudden burst of defensiveness; it was replaced by the meek tone that Umbra had adopted since she got stuck. Taking a deep breath, she spewed, almost too fast for me to follow, "You can push on my flanks to get me unstuck!"
"..."
I am rarely left without words, but that statement shut me up immediately. I mean, how the hell was I supposed to respond that?
My silence must've spoken more volumes than I had originally anticipated, because Umbra was quick to justify her—rather strange, to be honest—plan to extricate herself from the pipe.
"Look, I know it's probably very uncomfortable for you—"
I scoffed. "Bit of an understatement, that." I could almost feel her glare.
"—but I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Stuck. Here. Anymore!" Umbra punctuated each sentence with the clonk of a hoof hitting the metal pipe.
"You wouldn't happen to be claustrophobic, would you?" I asked, suddenly very concerned.
"No. I don't know. Maybe?" Her tail swished erratically. "I just... really don't like not being able to move, okay? Please?" Her tone was pleading, and I could imagine her puppy-dog eyes, all wide and teary and big—
Goddammit.
As a last ditch attempt to get out of the situation before it got weird, I said, "But you have magic! Can't you just... I don't know, poof yourself outta the pipe?"
Umbra laughed sharply, and the echo made it sound more like a strangled cackle. "I don't know where you got your information, but teleporting is hard! I'll be lucky if I ever manage to do it—even a few feet would take so much energy that I'd probably pass out. Not to mention you have to know where you're destination is."
I wrung my hands together and eyed the dark grey flank, not particularly amused at where my graspers would soon find themselves. At least I was wearing gloves. And I guess there were worse things to push. Defeated and dejected, I muttered, "Let's get this over with." Umbra remained silent, but her body looked as tense as a lamb heading off to the slaughter.
I grabbed my bag and slung it over a shoulder as I got into position. My shoes, nice leather ones with padded bottoms—and the only article of clothing aside from my balaclava and boxers that originated from Earth—braced the sides of the breakwater while my hands gingerly reached out to encompass Umbra's flanks.
When I made contact, a shiver ran down Umbra's hindquarters, but all I could think of was how... squishy she was. I mean, sure, it was probably a solid two years since I'd touched a female's back end, but I was certain they hadn't been that malleable.
...On second thought, the species difference might have something to do with that. Go figure.
After the initial shock and subsequent realization were behind me, I started to feel wrong. Just... wrong. I didn't know how old Umbra was. It was impolite to ask a female her age; that code of chivalry carried over between worlds. From what I understood from listening in the shadows of the Institute, however, she was still considered young by pony standards.
I wasn't a young buck anymore, pardon the pun, and Umbra was like a daughter to me—a four-legged, non blood-related, different species daughter, but still. I'd always imagined that the only people I'd teach my craft to would be my kids, and Umbra had filled that gap, somewhat.
And, lo and behold, my friend of nearly eight months and daughter figure was stuck in an extremely compromising position, one that I was free to exploit, if I so chose.
Obviously, I wouldn't. In fact, I couldn't. It was against my morals, my code of ethics. Call it hypocritical coming from a career thief; I don't care. Sexual offenders were the lowest of the low, and I wouldn't hesitate to knock one's block off, given the chance.
God, this was probably the most awkward thing I'd ever had to do, and I once had to hide in a women's locker room, right as a group came in to change. Don't ask.
I gave my head a quick shake, trying to dispel my niggling thoughts and focus on the task at hand.
It was only awkward if I made it awkward, right? If I didn't think that putting my hands there was wrong in this situation, then—wait, why was I trying to justify this?! It was wrong no matter what!
I glanced detachedly at my hands on Umbra's backside. If she were a human, not going to lie, I might've even enjoyed the sensation. As it was, I felt like I was committing some sort of crime—and not good one.
Despite solid reasoning and good intentions, however, not doing what she had asked me to do wasn't an option.
I decided to get it over with as quickly as possible.
"On the count of three, I'm going to push, okay?" I said, trying to sound soothing. I don't think it worked.
"O-Okay," Umbra replied. I felt another shiver run through her body. "Just... hurry up, alright?"
My opinion exactly.
"One."
"Two."
"Three!"
I pushed as hard as I could without hurting Umbra, glad that my shoes were well-gripped: had they not been, I might've slipped and, God forbid, accidentally head butted her—literally. Without warning, not even a sound akin to a cork being popped, Umbra was dislodged from her precarious position. She barely had time to let out a yelp before she was forced along the unused pipe by the force of my push and her own momentum.
Where was I, one might ask. Why, I followed suit, of course.
Whereas Umbra's descent was markedly pleasant—she didn't ram her head or her horn against the metal curvature—mine was not. I wasn't gangly, but I felt like a stick insect as my limbs were twisted this way and that following the unicorn's eviction. I ended up falling along the downward section of the pipe upside down while simultaneously kissing my feet.
I landed back-first on a surprisingly comfortable surface—it was soft and warm, unlike the wet, hard stone that I was expecting. I wasn't sure what that rough exhalation-like noise was, though—
"Get your bony flank off of me!"
Ah. So that's why it was soft.
"Sorry."
Obeying Umbra's wishes, I removed myself from her back—what I hoped was her back, anyway. I stood, staggering slightly, and tried to pierce the darkness around us. I couldn't see a damn thing that wasn't a foot away.
"Umbra?" I asked. "You alright?"
I felt a small breeze on my legs as she stood up, and winced when she cricked her neck from side to side. I always detested that habit, along with the cracking of fingers. Living things shouldn't make those kinds of noises.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"I got a nasty headache now, thanks to you, and now my rear feels like I spent all night at one of Vinyl Scratch's parties, also thanks to you."
I made to say something, but my words died in my throat and came out as an unintelligible gurgle that could've meant anything.
Shaking my head and trying to dispel the mental image that crawled its way into my sightless vision, I patted my pockets, looking for the most useful tool in a situation like this. Umbra took notice of the rustling of fabric.
"Whatcha doing? Should I conjure up a light for us?"
I responded by clicking on the light-giving device that fit neatly in the palm of my hand. It lit up the tunnel, showing me a wincing unicorn, damp cobblestone, and various stains that I had no intention of stepping anywhere near.
Who needed magic when you had a torch?
"Point that thing somewhere else, would you?" Umbra asked. Smiling softly from the irony of the situation, I complied, aiming it at the ceiling just in time to avoid a droplet of unknown liquid. "What is that thing? Where'd you get it?"
"It's a torch. And it came with me when I ended up here."
"Torch? That's not a torch!"
"Yes, it is! Look here." I stepped closer, and brought the torch down to Umbra's head height. I traced a finger below the all-caps word 'TORCH,' written on the underside, right next to 'MADE IN ENGLAND.'
"I can't read that. It's too dark."
"Well it says torch!"
"A torch is something that you light on fire to use as a light source. That is most definitely not a torch."
Bloody ponies. I raised my hands in the air, acquiescing. "How 'bout we call it a flashlight?"
"Flashlight?"
"Yeah. Flashlight."
"But I thought it was a torch!"
It's a good thing the light-producing device was made of tough plastic.
"Call it a flashlight and be done with it," I sighed. To myself, I muttered, "Bloody American ponies..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
Umbra eyed me warily, but decided not to prod. Glancing around, she said, "We should probably get our flanks in gear: Work at the factory doesn't start 'till around seven, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
Better to be safe than sorry, indeed. I shined my flashlight around—grumble, grumble—and found that there was only one way to go: further down the tunnel. I adjusted my bag, and began walking.
"Umm... about what happened back there..."
I stopped and turned my head. The silence was palpable while I waited for her to continue.
"What I want to say is: Thanks for not making it any weirder than it had to be."
"Don't mention it."
"No, seriously. If you hadn't come along, I'd have been stuck in that pipe for Celestia-knows how long. And not to mention how awkward it would have been if somepony else was here instead. You were... surprisingly cool about the whole—" she rotated her hoof, "—thing. So yeah, thanks, and now can we, uhh... How about we pretend that never happened? That would probably be best, right?"
I looked at Umbra, and I mean really looked at her. Her eyes were downcast, and she had resumed rubbing a foreleg with the other hoof, one of her nervous ticks. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw tinges of faint red on her cheek before she turned away from my glance.
I realized that, for all her bluntness and joking statements, she was still just as embarrassed, if not more so, as me about the whole being-stuck-in-a-pipe-with-my-rear-facing-out situation. Her being embarrassed about that? Perish the thought.
"Pretend that what never happened?" I asked, breaking the new silence that had begun to form.
She seemed confused. "What?"
"Exactly. Nothing happened, so there's nothing to forget."
I thought I saw a sparkle in her eyes, but when I blinked and looked again, they were clear. And smiling.
"You're alright. You know that?"
"What?" I asked. "I didn't do anything—"
Umbra punched—hoofed?—me lightly on my thigh, but her eyes were still smiling.
"Come on," I said. "This thing doesn't last forever, and I'd rather not be stuck in the dark. Let's go."
Umbra and I continued down the tunnel, discussing how the rest of our infiltration process should go.
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Two and a half weeks since last chapter update? Another 2k words?
weknowmemes.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/obama-not-bad-face.jpg
(But not particularly good, either)
Oh, and before anyone points it out, yes, this chapter is called 'Problem Solving.' The previous chapter has been renamed. That is all.
Nice, when my mind conjures stupid ideas for stories the whole 'American English speaking ponies' thing crops up quite a lot, and this is the first time I've seen it used, glad to see it.
As usual, I'm eagerly awaiting more.
Love this chapter as well as the humor scattered about. The dude's inner monologues about seemingly random things always brings a smile to my face, especially that TORCH part. Priceless!
Oh yeah, are we gonna learn the guy's name, or even just a nickname or something? 'Cause it's not second person anymore, and it could be hard to sidestep all those situations where a name is required...
Nice chapter.
Though now I seem to be unable to stop thinking 'Squishy butt, squishy butt' to the tune of the Lollipop song.
2645186
God damn it. Of all the comments I had to read.
This was not enough to satiate my voracious reading appetite. I request MOAR, dear writer.
Glad to see this updated.
I'd like to know more about this strange duo.
The robbery family of two!
Awaiting further releases.
I had not realized our human was British.
Always liked the Limeys
I wonder what kind of flashlight he has, if it runs on batteries I don't think it would have been usable for so long.
Nice character building, though if you ask me you lingered a bit
Can't wait for more!
2646326
Most torches/flashlights and their batteries are made to last for years until an emergency situation requires them.
This story is amazing. Keep on rockin' man ^-^
2646953 Then I keep getting REALLY shitty flashlights...
I can't get one to last more then a month it seems.
2650783
If your getting cheap plastic ones and using them then they won't last long. It's the heavy duty ones with D size batteries that can sit in a drawer for a year that last longer. Besides, batteries don't expire if they are just sitting there not being used, so long as they're kept in a dry, cool place.
Stupid Limeys! Always think they're superior to everypony! Liked this chapter, wish to see more please.
Nice placement for the Bioshock reference
2651777 actually, yes, they can. if they're drycell battery's then the electricity with sim[ply burn through the battery, as in a "leacking" battery.
Why was this cancelled?
Disappointed this was cancelled. I was liking where it was going.