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“W-wait! Wait!” Exie called out, falling out of the window and landing on the soft grass below. Thankfully, Cashmere had decided to throw the party on the first floor, making slipping out a little easier. The pale demon charged further and further away from her, quickly dodging down a back alley.

In no time at all, Exie was on her feet and stumbling after him, throwing terrified glances over her shoulder. The music was still blaring, the ponies were still partying; the body had not yet been discovered. She had to catch this beast – had to make sure that she could clear her name…
Or die trying?
Her steps faltered slightly, but her gallop increased when she spotted the monster lurking at the end of yet another of Canterlot’s seemingly endless alleys. This time, however, he’d come to a dead end.

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The brick wall in front of Ryan rose up to the building tops, almost twice as tall as he was. If he could manage to find a dumpster or a couple of trash cans, then he might have been able to scale it a bit easier…
Quit, you fuckin’ idiot! He berated himself. He kept treating this place like it was his home, Brooklyn. It was too clean for that, though; no trash, no litter, no random obstructions lying around.
Well. Except for walls.

He swore loudly, peering about for more helpful windows. This alley was quite a bit darker than the rest from the lack of them, although he could still see pretty clearly thanks to the oddly luminescent moon.
At least, clearly enough to see the peach colored pony standing at the opposite end of the alley, blocking him in.
“… Aw, fuck.”
He ran a hand through his greasy black hair, tensing his muscles. He was tired, but ready to run again if he needed to. Ryan had a lot of practice with running; if you wanted to survive in the Sharks, you had to be fast on your feet.
The numerous scars littering his body were a testament to that.

“Hold up!” the pony’s lilting voice called out to him, and she cautiously advanced.
“… Never seen a wild animal backed into a corner ‘fore, huh, kid?” Ryan asked dangerously, slowly dropping into a crouch. He began wishing for his handy switchblade, but he’d thrown that away (quite literally) long before he managed to fall into this multicolored hell-hole.
“S-stop!” the peach colored mare demanded, stamping a hoof defiantly as she blocked the exit.
Ryan actually paused a moment, thinking. He drew himself to his full height, looming over the little pony. He noticed with some satisfaction that her eyes, while already unnaturally large, were steadily growing wider. He recognized that look – he’d seen it a hundred times before.
Fear.

“Why?” he grinned, slowly loping toward her menacingly. “… You gonna make m-oof!”
Ryan hadn’t expected the redheaded mare to actually attack him; he was counting on her being paralyzed with fear, like the guard. Her horrendously hard head hit him high and heavily in the… damn you, failure to properly alliterate.
She head-butted him in the stomach, knocking the wind clean out of him as he toppled unceremoniously to the ground.

Ryan grunted in surprise, throwing up his arms to protect himself. Dropping onto his back as he pushed the mad mare over him with her momentum, he scrabbled to his feet and struggled to regain his balance. Flopping awkwardly down the alley, he silently cursed his newfound animated perception – it was both throwing off his depth perception a little and giving him a slight headache.
Exie scrambled to find ground after being thrown off, one silk thigh-high ripping horizontally as she bounced back up.
“Dammit, those were brand new!” she grumbled as she darted after him. He wouldn’t get away; they’d already made a lot of racket, and it would only be a matter of time before larger numbers of guards began arriving. From there, it would be a simple matter to corral him right into their hooves and clear her name of the grisly murder-
And he was gone.

“Buck me with a shovel!” Exie yelled, galloping as quickly down the alley as she could.
He couldn’t have gotten far – then again, the beast could move awfully quickly with those two long legs. After only a short distance of running, she found him.
Her ‘capture’ of the beast didn’t quite turn out to be as… dramatic as she’d expected it to be.

“… Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.” Exie stated bluntly, lilting voice mocking the pale monster as it’s legs wriggled violently. Someway, somehow, the strange creature had actually managed to lift open a small window on one of the houses closest to the street. A quiet, quaint little house with a mahogany colored wooden roof, nice little square lawn and white picket fence.
It looked horribly boring.

The dangling thing angrily attempting (and failing) to remove himself from the window made it a little more interesting, though.

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Ryan’s hands met a hideous pea green carpet in the dark, a little scratchy and short. He’d always been lean and thin, which had come in handy several times in the past when Victor had needed him to slip in somewhere small; of course, that had been years ago, before Carlos took over the gang. He’d grown a little since then, and it really should have come as no surprise that he’d get stuck halfway in the window.
He grunted, struggling to get a firm grip on the floor in front of him, only to find that the window was too high up for him to do so. Likewise, the window he’d clambered into was also too far from the ground for him to position his legs so that he could pull himself back out.

“… Well, that was easier than I thought it would be,” Ryan heard the lilting, feminine tone callously commenting on his current predicament. “it’s a nice effort on your part, but no good, I’m afraid. You’re back end still looks just as ugly as your front.”
“… Aw, fuck me with a crowbar.”
“Hmm. Kinky.”
Ryan breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. It was likely that the damned peach colored pony was going to start calling for help, and then the little monsters would put those spears to good use.

Ryan began struggling again.

“Hello, is anypony home?” Exie called out loudly as she knocked aggressively at the front door, banging against it so as to wake the urban home’s inhabitants.
Shit shit shit shit!
“Shut the fuck up!” Ryan hissed, flailing wildly. “You’re gonna get me killed!”
“Oh, right.” He couldn’t see her, but from the tone of her voice, she was giving him a deadpan expression through the door. “Like you killed that guard, and tried to pin it on me.”
“… Uh… I can ‘splain.” Ryan said weakly, legs flopping comically to the ground in defeat. Just to prove that the universe hated him, his action of finally giving up escaping the window loosened him just enough to let him slip free. He banged his elbows loudly against the sill, hitting his head against the window as he did so, but he was free.

The tall man tumbled gracelessly onto his back, breath knocked out of him as he landed with an uff. “Right – explain it to the Canterlot guard, while I’m clearing my naaaaagh!” Exie shrieked as Ryan swept her feet from beneath her with one leg, quickly pushing himself back up and resuming his escape.

Directly into a large armored battalion of angry little soldier ponies, led by a very familiar looking pegasus. Nine, not including the one leading them, all of which had some form of spear of jabbing instrument. Nine spears slowly rose simultaneously, jutting forward and aiming rather precariously close to Ryan’s face for any sort of comfort.
“… Aw, fuck.”

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“You know, this really ain’t so bad.” Ryan said thoughtfully.
“Hm.”
“I mean, I been in lotsa worse places – this sure as hell ain’t what I was ‘spectin’, but you can really tell they put a shit ton o’ work inta the walls.”
“Hmm.”
“And I ain’t been executed yet; that’s gotta be a good sign, right?”
“Hmm…”
“Fuck, they’re proll’y gonna torture me first.”
“Hm.”
“Y’know, on account of all the shit goin’ on.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Then, I’m gonna get dissected, an’ the lil’ fuckers are gonna stick me in a jar somewhere.”
“Hm.”
“Fuck, I wanna go home.”
“Hmm.”

Ryan rubbed his temples wearily, sitting on the soft cot provided for him. Honestly, it was much cleaner than some of the jail cells he’d been in before. It was well lit by some form of built in overhead metal fixture, carved into the stone ceiling. He couldn’t understand why his captors would use some form of electrical lighting on the inside of a prison, but had lit candles in the street and outside houselights.
Maybe you should be a little more fuckin’ worried ‘bout how you got here… he thought to himself, aggravated. He felt stupid for being caught – stupid and weak for being intimidated by a bunch of ponies. Ryan ground his fists angrily, beginning to pace around the small holding cell, occasionally eying the iron bars locking him in.

For whatever reason they deemed necessary, the peach colored mare had been tossed in with him.
Probably ‘cause they’re gonna be back soon, anyway… he thought darkly, enticing visions of precisely how badly he was going to kick that guard dancing in his head. Secretly, he was a little glad he hadn’t been killed; it was almost disturbing, how very much these little ponies reminded him of children.

“… Do you think they still plan to charge me for attempted murder?” the peach colored mare with the (now quite bedraggled) red mane asked him, nervously watching his frantic pacing.
“Jesus Christ, you talk a lot.” Ryan jabbed a finger at her accusingly. “Me, me, me – is that all you ever do?”

Exie snorted, pushing a lock of deep red mane out of her face and nudging her black bow back into its proper place. She leaned back onto her own cot, wistfully beginning to wish she’d merely gone home.
“Has anypony ever told you that you have absolutely no tact when it comes to speaking to a lady?”
“Has anybody ever told you that there’s a difference ‘tween a lady an’ a horsey lookin’ skank?” Ryan cocked an eyebrow, continuously pacing. The flap flop flap flop flap of his dirty and worn sneakers across the scuffed stone floor was getting a little annoying.
“Has anypony ever told you that you’re in a bad position for arguing appearances?”
“Has anybody ever told you that all you lil’ shits are real bad at makin’ introductions?”
“Has anypony ever told you that trying to murder a royal guard is a terrible way to introduce yourself?”
“Has anybody ever told you shut the fuck up?”

His voice echoed with venom, bouncing down the empty halls of the surprisingly well lit prison. For so much echoing, Ryan would have thought that it was much larger than it really was; from what he could see, there were only about three more cells.
Must not have a lot of crime ‘round here. He mentally shrugged, pacing in silence.
After a long stretch of silence (aside from flap flop flap flop) the peach colored mare, whereas still slightly miffed, spoke once more.
“… Ecstasy.”
“What.”

It was more akin to a statement than it was a question; still, it was acknowledgement that she’d spoken, so she could go from there. She lightly tapped the cutie mark she sported of a heart with a price tag attached, as if it were some strange indication of her name.
“It’s my birth name. I go by ‘Exie’.”
“… And?” Ryan grumbled, the flap flop finally ceasing as he dropped with a groan onto the too-small cot. His legs dangled awkwardly over the edge, along with his long and slightly tanned arms.
And head.

For nearly five minutes, they stayed like that. Completely still, completely silent.
For one of them, it was very uncomfortable – for the other, it was an internal struggle.

“… Miller.” He finally grunted, almost unwillingly. “Ryan Miller. In th’ Sharks, they used ta’ call me ‘Jaws’.
“Er… o-kaaaay?” Exie said slowly, the words rolling uncertainly over her tongue. She couldn’t make out quite what he was, but she was almost certain that the beast was no shark, regardless of how sharp it’s teeth were. If anything, he resembled a large, mostly hairless gorilla. The tuft of greasy, unkempt inky black mane atop it’s oddly shaped head gave it – er, him – a slightly feral look. His hooked nose curved down over his face, giving his already scowling look an even meaner appearance. Now that she had a chance to get a decent look at him, he looked… well, grumpy.

Everything about him seemed both simultaneously young and prematurely old. The beady, angry black eyes and furrowed brow, complimented by thin eyebrows. The way he was constantly hunched, although that might have had something to do with his height in comparison to the room’s ceiling. And those freaky looking fingers on the ends of his hands… the way he held them up in front of his face, wriggling them ever so often as he stared was beginning to freak her out.
Not the fact that he seemed to be obsessed with watching himself; it was the way his fingers moved, spindly and jerkily. They reminded her of large, pale spiders.

Ryan, noticing the mare’s sudden shudder, glanced over at her. More out of boredom than anything, and he silently fumed while thinking of some way to escape. Stone didn’t tend to burn too well, but maybe if he set one of the cots aflame he could call fire, set up an ambush…
With no place to hide? Great plan, asshole.

“… ‘The fuck are you starin’ at?” Ryan finally asked, pondering whether or not he could find some way to cling to the ceiling long enough to drop onto one of the guards. His foot tapped against the stone floor nervously, and he quashed the constantly rising fear that he might never return home.
“Sorry,” Exie apologized quickly, turning away from him. Unfortunately, the cell didn’t seem to have any barred windows or vents to the outside, leaving them with no way to tell how much time was passing. “… It’s just, well… You’re sort of… What I mean, is-“
“Spit it out.”
“First time I’ve heard that one.”

Exie jumped at the sudden burst of wind exploding from the strange newcomer to Equestria, before she realized that he’d snorted in a sudden effort not to laugh. A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips, revealing a row of finely filed teeth.
Exie suddenly became very uneasy whenever Ryan smiled.

It was a queer game they played, to pass the time – Ryan would eventually become restless and begin pacing again, only to flop back down. The entire time, the two would shoot crude comments toward the other, an almost mindless chitchat. To Exie, it was a little therapeutic; after all, it was very uncommon that she actually got the chance to really talk to somepony, even if it was only banter. She presumed that she was the only one paying attention to the ‘conversation’, but Ryan would occasionally surprise her with something unexpectedly witty, full of class and charm. Or at least, as much as he could manage.
However, those were few and far between, as most of his comebacks consisted of either incoherent profanity with threats of doom or horrible violation via gardening equipment.

Sometimes, both.

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Exie wasn’t certain at what point she’d fallen asleep. The flap flop of Ryan’s ‘shoes’, if you could call the ratty and torn bits of material that, had slowly lulled her to sleep. She blearily cracked open one eye, watching as a small squadron of six guards stood at attention outside the prison cell. Of course, before she remembered where she was. Exie leapt up, sliding off the cot and onto the stone floor. It had begun to grow a little chilly in the cell, and the multiple rips in her thigh-highs weren’t helping.
On the other hoof, it did give them a sort of… rugged appeal.

“Rise and shine, sleeping be-wow! You weren’t kidding, that thing is ugly.”
The lead stallion of the group, a custard colored pegasus in golden armor with a single blue star attached to the front, stepped back a little from their containment. His intermixed light and dark blue mane tucked slightly between his legs momentarily as he backed up, but he gaudily trotted back forwards once he remembered the evident barrier between him and the looming human.

Ryan stood at the locked door, glaring down at him. He crossed his arms, leering at the little pony.
“Yeah, you’re one ta’ talk. You look like Seabiscuit fucked a Smurf.”
None of the ponies understood the reference, but Exie guessed that it was nothing polite.
“F-for your information,” the blue-maned pegasus sputtered, “I am considered extremely handsome amongst-“
“You make bullfrogs look handsome, numb nuts.” Ryan cut him off, giving the pony a strange gesture with one of his hands. Judging from his scowl and extended middle finger, she guessed it was nothing too polite, either.

The stallion looked taken aback that anyone had dared interrupt him, and he stamped a hoof indignantly.
“I have been charged with-“
“Assault?” Ryan interjected rudely. “Murder? Arson?" he gasped in mock horror, "Jaywalking?!”
“Charged with ensuring the proper conduct is taken when transferring the prisoners!” the stallion flustered, ruffling his wings indignantly beneath his golden armor, which matched the others' sets. A beet red flush had slowly begun creeping its way up his neck, which only encouraged Ryan to continue infuriating him.
This, of course, would potentially result in her own continued imprisonment by correlation.

“What he means to say, is, er…” Exie spurted suddenly, standing at attention before the royal guards. One of which gave her a rather… interested look. She gave him a small wink, cleared her throat and continued. “What he means to say is that he’s very, very sorry for accidentally injuring one of the guards, and that he won’t do it again.”
“… No it ain’t.” Ryan blinked, looking down at her. “I meant ta’ say, ‘I hope he gets raped with a jackhammer’, that’s what I meant to say.”
“… Dammit, Ryan.”

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Brink Slipper rubbed his neck with his left hoof, staring at his other shamefully.
He rubbed his neck this time, not out of discomfort, but out of misery. It was just a bad habit he’d developed, the same as his father had before he’d gone missing. His bright orange tuft of short mane began itching, and he fought the urge to scratch it.
“… You know, you’re going to have to look up eventually.”
“I know, sir.” Brink admitted with a sigh, placing the worn helmet back onto his head as he gazed up into the disappointed eyes of his superior, Shining Armor.
“I mean, really? You thought you could take on a potential alien invasion – ANOTHER one, I might add – alone?”

Brink would have given anything to make that awful guilty feeling go away. It was an outright lie, the claim to have charged the monster in defense of Canterlot – he’d done it because he wanted fame. Glory. Respect.
And he’d nearly gotten killed for it.
“I-I-I know, sir.” Brink mumbled, beginning to paw at the ground in front of him like a school filly again. Guard Captain Shining Armor had that effect on some ponies. “I know what I did wasn’t necessarily protocol, but-“
“Wasn’t protocol?” Armor said loudly, slapping a folder down on his wooden desk. The small plaque bearing his name, directly in front of a framed picture of himself and his wife, bounced slightly. “How many times do I have to drill it through your heads?” he said in dissatisfaction, sighing as he rearranged the objects on his desk wearily. “The Royal Guard is exactly that. There to guard. To protect. What would you have done if you’d walked directly into an ambush?”

Ironically enough, Brink had done just that. Sort of.

“Well – I – I – sir…!” the poor pegasus noticed his voice beginning to crack against his will. The Royal Guard was his entire life; his home, his family, his only reliable source of income. He didn’t think he could bear it should he be stripped of his rank so soon. As if being demoted – in front of that blowhard braggart Sentry – wasn’t enough.
Shining gave another heavy sigh, rubbing his aching eyes. “… Look, son.” He began slowly, and Brink cringed; nothing good ever came from an opening like that.
“I understand if you want to demote me again, sir –“ Brink said suddenly, one last, desperate shard of hope still clinging to him. “- just – just – I’ll go back to scrubbing the chamber pots again, just… please. Don’t discharge me from the Guard – I – I – I can do better, sir!” he pleaded, wringing his hooves in anxiety. “I-I promise, I know I can. I can do so much better.”

And then, for just a single fleeting moment, Brink thought he really had a chance.

“… I know you can, son.” Shining said softly as he closed his eyes. “… That’s what makes this so hard for me.”
Brink’s head dropped, and he held back the sudden stinging that burned his sea green eyes. He was a Royal Guard – he wouldn’t falter. He wouldn’t shed a single tear – such indications of weakness were conditioned out of them from the moment ponies began their training. At least, that’s what he told himself as he fought back the soul crushing weight of the situation.
“I’m not going to throw you out, son.”

Brink’s head shot upwards, so fast that he swore he heard it crick! Again.
“You’re… you’re not, sir?”
“No.” Shining said solemnly as he slowly slid stolidly past the sordid stallion. (Ha! Alliteration accuracy, I have achieved it!)

“No, son. Your judgment is reserved solely for Princess Celestia.”
He nodded toward the throne room, and the pit in Brink’s stomach suddenly fell half a mile away.
Oh, he wasn’t just going to be demoted. In all likelihood, the princess had in mind a much more horrible punishment for his actions – and, no matter how hard he tried, he doubted he would ever be able to successfully lie to the princess. There were some things that she just inexplicably… knew.

Brink tried not to shudder, but Shining caught his face slowly turning the same color as his eyes. There was nothing he could say to the pegasus, however, that could potentially ready him for whatever he was about to face. With a pained look and a sturdy nod of acceptance that only those facing the gallows truly know, Brink Slipper began his plodding trek to the throne room.

He knew what would happen, really. Or at least, the end result; his discharge from the Royal Guard. The only thing that he didn’t know was how their ‘benevolent ruler’ would go about administering his punishment.

You brought this upon yourself, his father’s words drifted back into his mind. That’s what ambition does to ponies – an’ now you ain’t got no way out ‘cept down the garbage chute.
He was a fully grown stallion, not a little filly anymore; it was high time to accept his fate. Regardless of whether or not he wanted to. With a deep breath and a squint of his eyes, Brink unhurriedly pushed open the intricately crafted silver, gold and ivory doors to the throne room to kneel before the goddess of the sun itself to face his impending doom.

Or at least, he was about to, before he was promptly kicked in the rear and thrown unceremoniously through the doorway.

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“EEYOWCH!” Ryan yelped, steadily being pushed forward by the occasional jab to the rear end with one of those pointy, iron tipped spears. “That fuckin’ hurts, ya’ lil’ thigh-high masochist!” he spat hatefully at Flash Sentry, who smugly pointed forward with one hoof, urging him forward.

“… Actually, I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘sadist’,” Exie interrupted, walking calmly beside him as she took in the sights of the castle. The towering pillars, the open and flowing windows overlooking expansive gardens full of color, the morning sun shining in cheerily as birds chirruped nearby; it really was beautiful. She regretted not getting to see more sights like this one. It was much more ‘hustle and bustle’ in Manehattan.
“Fine, the lil’ fuckers are thigh-high masochist sadists.”

Exie pinched the bridge of her nose with one hoof, and Ryan silently remarked how strange it looked to see one of them walking calmly forward on three legs. Ryan compared it to a normal person suddenly beginning to hop on one leg while speaking, scratching their face or using a cell phone with the other foot.

In effect, it was downright creepy.
Ryan trudged along, glowering at all the little soldier-like ponies behind him.
Behind him.
… Behind him.
… Ho-lee shit, these guys are stupid.

“Hey, look, a dragon!” Ryan bellowed in mock-surprise, pointing back over the shoulders of the guards.
If Ryan hadn’t taken that exact opportunity to run forward as fast as he could, he’d have been smitten with laughter as every single one of them turned on the spot.

“A-after him!” Sentry, their (thoroughly humiliated) leader yelped, giving hoof signals to one of the guards to stay behind with the peach colored mare. The lone guard looked relatively pleased about this. Shouts and clanging followed as both Earth pony and pegasus alike charged down the polished hallway, screaming threats of capture and much jabbing with pointy objects after Ryan.
Ryan, however, had gained quite a bit of distance on the little ponies.
He allowed himself an animalistic grin, pushing himself farther and farther from them as he sharply rounded a corner, thanking his luck that this one had nobody to block his way.

And, of course, Ryan forgot the most important rule of them all.
The universe hates Ryan.
Turning another corner only led to a dead end, and he quickly backpedalled to discover that the small enclave of angry guardsponies had gained a fair amount of distance on him, the arrogant blue-maned one in the lead.
Shit shit shit shit shit! He thought furiously as his feet carried him as fast as they could down an adjacent hall, this one even more magnificent than the last. Which he would have probably marveled at, were he not running for his life. And, of course, this one was a dead end as well – no, wait. No dead end, merely a door to some kind of antechamber with some sad little pony looking at it.

The pegasus in the guard’s uniform had it’s back turned to him as he opened the massive double doors, giving Ryan an almost perfect opportunity.
His shark-like grin grew all the wider as he powerfully punted the positively pained poor pegasus in the posterior (okay, these are getting old) and kicked him directly through the double doors. Ryan quickly followed, cackling madly at the success of his surprise attack.

At least, until he came face-to-face with an even larger squad of very ruffled looking ponies, and one very, very angry princess.

“… Aw, fuck.”

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Author's Note

The universe is going to take it's eventual revenge against Ryan for being an unbearable jackass. Mark my words.