> Highway Robbery > by cleverpun > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Credit Score: 666 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Trixie shuffled her hooves. Dust littered the road, and it ground into her coat. She should’ve brought a pillow, or something, had she known it would take this long. All the old wives tales said to wait at a crossroads. Perhaps she should have chosen a more modern street, one with asphalt and a bench. She could’ve bought a sandwich or something to pass the time. It would have ruined the atmosphere, certainly, but the dust accumulating on her flanks and mane made a strong case for ignoring traditionalism. Her ear flicked. She turned her head. The moonlight covering the road was dull; she saw a few meters to either side, at most. The sound of hooves crunching on gravel cut through the air, though. No buildings or structures for miles. Nothing blocked the sound. Sure enough, a pony stepped into her vision. “Good evening, Miss Lulamoon,” the mare said. Trixie squinted. The mare had a purple coat, and it blended in with the darkness. It looked like the same shade as that infuriating unicorn’s. Her manecut resembled Twilight Sparkle’s as well, but it was pitch black. The darkness obscured the fine details, but Trixie doubted the similarity was coincidental. “I suppose Trixie does not need to ask how you know her name,” Trixie said. “We vet all of our customers, Miss Lulamoon. Can’t be too careful these days. Lots of weirdos out there.” The mare showed too many teeth. She had not stopped smiling since she appeared, and her teeth reflected more light than the rest of her combined. A simple necklace hung around her neck, but the black material matched the lightlessness of her mane. Trixie’s gaze wandered. Anything but looking at that shiny smirk. “You don’t have a cutie mark.” The pony did not take her eyes off Trixie, did not stop smiling. “Oh, silly me. So many things to keep track of when you go out, you know? Makeup and clothes and all those silly things.” Trixie blinked. The mare’s flank suddenly had a mark on it: a black set of scales. “Do you want to know my name, as well? I could put one of those on too.” “Trixie will pass. Trixie would rather get to business.” “Of course.” The not-pony pulled a folder from behind her back. “Your summons said you wanted ‘revenge’?” “Yes! On that life-ruining Twilight Sparkle!” Trixie grit her teeth. She could imagine that smug busybody now. Probably asleep in her comfortable bed, instead of sitting around in the cold planning revenge. The nerve. “We have quite a few revenge packages. One of our best sellers, of course,” the pony said. “What did you have in mind?” “Trixie wants to personally humiliate her!” Trixie stamped her hoof, and a cloud of dust puffed up. “To show her up at her own game! Trixie wants her to suffer the same indignities she has! Perhaps spend some time as Trixie’s personal slave. Maybe eat her magic or something. As long as it is prolonged and degrading.” “Of course. Standard package then.” The pony did not look at the folder, even though it was open. “Now, before we get into details, there is of course the matter of payment.” “Yes, certainly. Trixie imagines you’ll want her soul.” The pony finally blinked. The motion was slow, her eyes still pointed at Trixie during it. “Well, that’s the thing, Miss Lulamoon. We ran a credit check on you. I’m afraid that would be an insufficient payment.” “Are you serious?” Trixie stood up. “Trixie’s soul is worth a thousand common pony souls! She has no equal!” “The third person speaking certainly is part of it, sadly.” The pony turned a page in the folder. Her eyes stayed fixed on Trixie. “There’s also the fact that you are broke, disgraced, and homeless.” She turned another page. “Certainly plenty of Pride and Vainglory; a lot of Envy and more than your share of Lust, plus a smidgen of Wrath. Not exactly the purest soul. And that’s not even getting into previous owners and depreciation.” “What exactly are you insinuating?!” Trixie demanded. “Oh, we can still accept your soul as payment, of course. You just can’t afford the package you want.” Trixie huffed. As long as she got some revenge. “What could Trixie afford, then?” “We could give you the succubus transformation package. You get a decent boost to magical energies, and can drain them from other ponies via physical contact. You lose a fair amount of free will, however, and get certain insatiable urges.” “Trixie finds that unpalatable.” The pony turned a page. “You could also afford a one-use curse. Something to dampen Twilight’s magic or ruin her reputation, for a time.” “‘A time’?” “Well, it’s the cost of the base curse, with a multiplier for addons and length. With your soul, you could do a year of ruined reputation or reduced magic, or half a year of both.” “And how is Twilight supposed to know to rue Trixie for this curse?” “That would be extra; the ruing add-on would take off two weeks.” “These prices are absurd!” Trixie pointed at the pony. “You should be begging for Trixie’s business, not biting and bitting with these preposterous exchange rates!” “Well, you could always pay with additional souls.” The pony turned another page. “Miss Sparkle’s soul would get you our deluxe package. One of her friends would more than cover a standard package, as well.” Trixie glanced to the side. “And how would Trixie acquire Twilight Sparkle’s soul, exactly?” Trixie started. She had not imagined the pony’s smile could get any wider or shinier, but somehow it had. The pony leaned forward slightly, her smile glinting in the moonlight. “Why, posthumously, of course,” she said. Trixie shook her head. “No, no. How is Trixie supposed to disgrace and enslave Twilight if she is dead?” Trixie turned around. “This is a waste of Trixie’s time. Trixie will not stand for these exorbitant prices. It is highway robbery!” The pony laughed. It sounded surprisingly musical and pleasant. “If you insist, then. If you change your mind, we would of course love your business.” The pony draped a hoof across Trixie’s shoulder. Trixie jumped, but caught herself. The hoof felt like ice. She could not allow herself to lose her convincing aloofness, however. “You know, I like you. A pony after my own heart, really.” The pony leaned in. “It’ll cost me my commission, but here, have one on the house.” The pony brought a tiny scroll up, and Trixie grabbed it in her magic. “There’s a particular shop in Canterlot. On the back shelf in the second row, there is an intriguing little trinket called the Alicorn Amulet. It really shouldn’t be there. They should’ve confiscated it and destroyed it a long time ago. But I imagine that enough money would convince the shopkeeper to part with it.” The pony withdrew her hoof. “Enjoy.” Trixie turned around. The pony had vanished. The crossroads looked as empty and dusty as before. Trixie unrolled the scroll. The instructions were brief. Something about a way to make money on a farm, an address for the shop, and a lengthy digit; presumably the amount of bits she would need. She glanced to the side again. The pony had definitely vanished. Trixie stuck the paper in her bag. The Alicorn Amulet, whatever it was, certainly sounded better than nothing. Better than being a succubus.