In The Name of Science

In the Name of ScienceChapter Eight: The Science of Give and The Science of Take

     'Silus. We need to speak.'

     Oh, perfect. Yeah, that was just what I needed.

     I was leaning up against the rugged and slightly unstable walls of that rickety old shack when Pi's voice echoed inside my skull. Royal Blue had taken me inside and commenced speaking in hushed tones to Emerald Coast and the other pony; a wiry mare with a green coat just like Emerald's, but it was more of a spring green than an emerald, and just as dirty. She had pale yellow mane was tied up into a bun, and it also had an oily sheen that likely came from not being washed in quite a while. She actually kind of had a pretty face, though it would look a lot nicer if it wasn't for the thick bags that under her eyes like ten pound weights.

     They all stood in a circle furiously whispering to one another and occasionally tossing curious glances my way. I barely made out any of the words, the only one that I managed to catch was "steal." How wonderful. Even without words, I could tell that Emerald was pissed at his uncle by his tone of voice. Apparently somepony was a little butthurt after he had his loot yanked out from under his nose. Heh heh.

     They were too involved with one another to pay me any mind. I managed to turn away and whisper to Pi "Now's not a good time, man."

     'I care little.'

     I rolled my eyes and scoffed quietly "I'm sure you do. Now what the hell is it?"

     'I want you to leave.'

     "But of course, master." I drawled sarcastically." I can't just ditch 'em like that. Gave them my god damned word, and that may mean nothing to you, but I'm sure as hell not going to go back on my word."

'Your word to them does not matter in the slightest, Silus. I do not care, and neither should you. You have a contract with The Precursors, and as your employer I order you to depart from here immediately. Whatever they plan to do with you will most likely interfere with our experiments. The time that you are useful to us is finite, and we do not intended to waste it.'

     "Hey, it's my turn to say I don't care, bub!" I hissed. "Now listen, these good folk had the common freaking decency to not kill my ass. I'm sure I can find a way to help them and you at the same time, okay? So just lay off for a sec, and let me do this."

     The other end of the line was silent for a few moments longer than it should have been.

     'Very well. I'll be watching.'

     "Yeah, you always are."

     "Oy, you say somethin'?" The three ponies were all staring at me by then. Well, two of them only stared, one glared at me like I had just insulted the weight of his mother. Guess who that was. Go on, guess.

     I waved my hand dismissively in his direction. "Just talking to myself. Bad habit."

     "You should be okay, so long as you don't have voices in your head that talk back. Then we'd have to throw you in the looney bin and find somepony else to fill your spot." Royal Blue laughed deviously and nudged his nephew in the shoulder, who refused to even acknowledge that it was a funny joke. Killjoy.

     "Oh uh, yeah, that would-- that would be bad, you know, me being crazy in the head. Heh. Yep." I coughed awkwardly "Anyhoo, what's next? I'd betcha ten bucks that all that whispering was about me."

     "Why would he bet deer stallions?" The yellow-haired mare asked honestly.

     Emerald shot a much softer look her way"It's another word for bits, love."

     "Oh."

     "Regardless what you call money," Royal gave his nephew a subtle nod "you'll have won that ten coins. It seems that we've all come to an agreement--"

     "Not all of us." Emerald Coast harshly butted in.

     "--MOST of us have agreed upon the circumstances of your initiation. Since you stole and apparently destroyed the unclaimed property of The Family, you will steal for us some thing or things of equal value. Reimburse us, as it were."

     Sounded fair enough to me. An eye for an eye, give and take, and all that jazz. Though, I was kinda hoping that I didn't have to steal from anyone else in a while. But hey, it was inevitable, being in a literal thieves' guild.

     "That sounds pretty good to me. So what's the deal with this? Is there anything I want to know?"

     "Yes." Emerald said, taking a step closer "First off, don't even think about running off. We'll find you if you do, and so help me Celestia if I get to you first...

      "You don't like me, do you?"

     "No I don't, so jus' shut ya yap! Rule number two: you can't steal more than you can carry, so don't just grab lots a little things and drop 'em off somewhere. We want the shiny valuable things, savvy? Number three: You can't get caught. If you get caught, you get canned, and we won't come and get you when you're in jail. Rule number four: you only have one night to do it, and your time's up when the sun is. If you don't have enough, you lose. Cold hard cash is good, gems and precious metals are great. That's the usual challenge for new recruits. The diamond could have nicked us eight hundred bits, so get us eight hundred and fifty, and you're initiated. Now, can your little squirrel brain get all that, or am I gonna have ta say it again?"

     "I'm not a squirrel, I'm an ottsel."

     The green earth pony visibly gritted his teeth "I don't give a bloody fuck what you say ya are. Do you understand the rules?"

     "Yeah, sure."

     He turned to regard Royal "That's that. Now can I go? I gotta go pick up little Squeaky from 'is sleepover."

       "I don't see why not."

     Without another word, Emerald Coast stormed out of the shack, making a point to not even spare another glance at Royal or I. He slammed the door behind him, shaking the whole building and making it a little more unstable than it had been. He was followed by the still unnamed mare. She shot a crooked glance my way, then made a show of turning her nose in the air and starting after him.

     "What a pair of drama queens."

     "Ahhh, he'll come around. Em's just a sore loser." Royal chuckled a bit.

     "And who the heck is Squeaky, anyhow?"

     A contented smile crept up on Royal blue "He's Em's little foal, and the closest thing I'll ever get to a grandson. Smart colt, that one. He's got his mother's eyes."

     "Then is that green lady his...?"

     His eyebrows raised as if I had just told him the most racially insensitive joke on the planet "Celestia no! Not even close. I wouldn't trust Winter Wheat with a houseplant, much less a foal. No... His real mother died about eight years back. He doesn't like talk about it much, so we try not to mention her around him. Poor lad, he hasn't been the same since."

     "Well that explains his general dickishness."

     "Dickishness?"

     "Oh, right. World of ponies. Sometimes I forget that. It means, ah, "the degree to which one is a dickhead."

     "What a lovely word."

     "I come from a lovely city."

     "Right right. Now, don't tell Emerald this yet, but I have something for you."

     The moment that he finished his sentence, my ears perked up like a dog's would if you showed it a juicy rib bone. I was going to have to get used to that too. I tried to not snicker when I did it.

     "What is it?"

     He inclined his head toward the stairway that lead to the roughly dug out basement that had been held captive in. "Follow me, if you'd please."

     "Righto boss-man."

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     "That's one fancy-ass house." I remarked

     "It is, isn't it?"

     "Who's is that again?"

     Royal Blue had spread out a collection of photographs and hastily scrawled maps upon the table that I had been tied up on this morning. I glanced at the backwards F that Emerald had craved mere inches from my body. Ahh, good memories.

     All of the papers pertained to a disgustingly large house that looked like its owner was really overcompensating for something. Judging by the hand, er, hoof drawn floor plans, the bathroom alone could've probably fit me, my parents, and all of my semi-close and close friends inside. Well, if they were in Equestria, that is. God, I'm never going to see them again, am I? Wait, No! Not thinking about that. Nuh uh. I had enough on my plate as it is, and worrying about my friends and family was not going to help AT ALL.

     "The place belongs to Filthy Rich, the owner of Rich's Barnyard Bargains. It's Ponyville's one and only general store." Hey, that's where I bought my smokes the day before! It was a pretty nice place. Royal hoofed me a photo of an amber earth pony stallion with a graying mane and a bright red tie. I grabbed the photo and looked it over. There was really no need to, I already knew his face. Rich was that one dude from the Zap Apple jam episode.

     "You know, I had a friend that ran a pretty good music shop back in the big city. He lived in a one-bedroom apartment and bought all of his clothes from a thrift shop." I said, tossing the photo aside. "This--" I tapped the floor plan of the ridiculous house "--is not equal to the salary of a family business owner."

     "Exactly!" He exclaimed happily, banging his hoof on the table and knocking off a scroll. "That normally goes right over everypony else's heads. It's outrageous how many ponies miss glaringly obvious things like this!"

     I shrugged. "Where I come from, it's just using your brain. If you see a guy in a suit that wears a gold watch walking down the street telling everyone he's a waiter at a restaurant, the dude's probably lying."

     "I knew there was something in you, colt. You--" he poked me with a hoof "--you think like a thief. Don't ever stop doing that, it will take you far."

     Oh great, I'm a natural at stealing stuff. All the talents in the world and I get stuck with the one that could lead me into prison. Silus, you lucky dog you.

     "So, why's Filthy Rich so rich?"

     "He's one of us."

     "One of The Family? How the hell does that work?"

     "Well, he used to be, right up until he became a nark." He pulled another photo from the pile. It was of a much younger and much more handsome Filthy Rich, but instead of the tie he wore a thick black cloak with a deep hood, and his eyes had fewer bags under them. "Back when Luna made her grand return, Rich gave her a sizeable head start by snitching on all of us.  He told her damn near everything he had on our members and operations. In return, she let him keep a slice of The Family's coffers after she saw fit to "redistribute" it. He stabbed the backs over two dozen ponies who trusted him, and now the bastard lives in luxury while we rot away in a hole in the ground. Does that seem fair to you?"

     "Of course not!"

     "Then we're going to teach him a lesson. Now, we don't have the resources to ruin his life quite yet. That takes time, money, and ponies. We've got plenty of time, but we're severely lacking in the other two categories. I want you to break in and steal something that's worth a whole lot more to us than eight hundred and fifty bits."

     He pushed all of the documents off the table, letting them flutter to the floor. The only thing left was the master plan of the house.

     "Get this job right, and you're more than welcome to be a part of The Family. Here's what you're going to need to do..."

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     Night.

     It was my second night in Equestria, probably about one in the morning. It was darker than last night, neither the moon nor the stars could shine through the thick cloud cover that I assumed had been arranged by the local weather team. The sky was as black as black could get, yet my brightly colored ass still stood out like a traffic cone. Orange was not a camouflage color.

"The night should be cloudy." Royal said. "So the moon will be completely out of sight, that way this gig has no chance to be seen by Luna unless she decides to pay Ponville a surprise visit in the next twelve hours."

Even in the dead of night, Ponyville still felt alive. The street lamps cast dull and flickering rays of light into the hard packed dirt streets of the town. A few of the cottages still had their lights on, and I could spy the black silhouettes of the late night ponies doing whatever they did at these odd hours of the day, as well as the sounds of drunken singing coming from the local tavern. My ears were filled with a droning chorus of chirps as the unseen crickets sang their endless tuneless song. All was was peaceful.

     Oddly enough, there were almost no ponies themselves outside, which didn't surprise me, I just thought that there would be a few midnight strollers about. What did throw me off guard was a few big, burly grey stallions clad in dark blue and silver armor stomping around the streets and waving their lanterns or light spells at the dark corners. Since when did this town have guards? Probably since weird interdimensional travelers started popping up everywhere. Come to think of it, I hadn't met another person that claimed to be a human around these parts. I've been hearing about them, but I haven't seen any. One of them were bound to pop up anytime soon.

     I made it a point to stick to the shadows and alleyways where the guards couldn't see. I had no immediate reason to hide from them, but I was kind of planning on breaking the law soon enough. Lawponies were not the kind of ponies that I wanted to trust right then. Hell, I had no idea who I wanted to trust anyway.

     I idly strolled around a few low cobblestone walls and tall columns of shrubbery that completely encircled the Rich property. Peeking over it, I could see that this guy had a heck of a big yard in addition to that miniature mansion of his. There must have been at least twenty feet of lawn and garden in between me and the house. It just had to take five ponies working five days a week to keep the grass cut and the flowers alive. Imagine mowing this place with a push mower...

"What I recommend doing..." he went on "...is finding a way on to the roof, that's your best point of entrance. You can't bother going through any of the doors or windows, but the chimney is a different story. We're dealing with a professional ex-thief here, so he'll be prepared for almost anything."

     It took minimal effort to vault over the pathetic excuse for a wall and into the property. It might've stopped a foal or an elderly pony, but I had opposable thumbs, which made climbing a breeze. Imagine trying to climb up a ladder or over a fence with just your hands balled up into fists. Yeesh. Speaking of which, how did ponies even climb ladders anyway? Did they even have those? I didn't seen any.

     It was hard to tell in the dark, but I could have sworn that the grass here was literally greener than the rest of Ponyville. I guessed that this guy must have his lawn fertilized or something. You know that you have too much money when you blow a wad of cash on your freaking grass.

     Oh hey, out of the corner of my eye I saw that F mark again; it had been painted on the side of the house in dark green. I almost didn't see it. I guessed that it was The Family's logo, considering how it seemed to follow me wherever I went.

     Let's see... Roof access, roof access, roooooof access . How was I going to get up there? There were no open windows and conveniently placed trees this time around, so I'd actually have to be breaking in instead of slipping in.

     I weaved around the pink lawn flamingos and over (get this) ponified gnomes as I made my way closer to the house. I scanned the sides of the place looking for something climbable. The mansion was two floors high with smooth walls, meaning no loose bricks to climb up. Perhaps a misplaced trampoline would do the trick?

     There didn't seem to be any-- "Woahwoahwoah!" I stopped myself just in time to avoid falling face first into a massive pool of water. I teetered near the edge for a heart-stopping moment before flailing my arms around like an idiot and regaining my balance. "This guy even has a pool." I said to myself. "I hate rich people. They just leave goddam lawn ornaments and pools lying around like they were toys."

     I sidestepped the pool and just kind of stood there scratching my beard. I couldn't find a way up on the roof that a two and a half foot tall ottsel could easily reach. Let's see, there was a stack of loose firewood leaning against the side of the house, but it wasn't built high enough to use as an impromptu staircase. There weren't any of those crisscrossing wooden fences that people used as ladders like you'd see in cheap romance movies.

     This was getting to be a toughie. I really didn't want to, but it looks like I'd have to phone a friend on this one.

     "Hey, professor," I murmured "got any bright ideas?"

     There was naught but silence on the other end.

     "Pi? Come on, I know you can hear me."

     Nada.

     Eh, whatever. Maybe he just left to take a bathroom break. Do immortals even need bathrooms? Probably not, but it really didn't matter, I was more concerned with getting in.

     I put my hands on my hips and drew in a deep, cleansing breath of night air, then let it out slowly through my nose. This was going to be another long night. Hey, maybe I could have gotten a decent night's sleep after this guy's house has been sufficiently pillaged. Though, I shouldn't have been making plans for afterwards before the job was even done.

"Now, we've got the advantage here." Royal said. "Rich is going to expect burglars that were no smaller than himself. Like ponies, griffons, diamond dogs and such. What he wouldn't ever expect was a... What were you again?"

"I'm a musician."

"Of course you are. He wouldn't expect somepony as small as yourself to invade his home. That should mean that he's neglected to secure all of the much tighter fitting spaces. He wouldn't know what hit him."

     Oh hello, what was this? Just to the side of the firewood pile was a translucent rectangular window that went up to about my waist. I tried to peer in to take a look what lay behind, but it was too foggy to see more than a few brown and grey blurs on the other side. It was kind of like one of those windows you see at public bathrooms and hospitals; light will go through them, but you can't use it as an actual window.

     Eager to get in out of the cold, I grabbed the window and put my body weight against it. After a little heaving and groaning, it didn't even budge. I tried pulling it open instead, but that was equally successful. Okay! New plan.

       "If you want to do it the hard way, fine by me." I told the window, who said nothing in response, it just sat there like inanimate objects tend to do.

     I slipped off my cloth backpack and set it on the ground just beside me. After a little bit of digging, I grabbed the multitool and morphed into a screwdriver. This hunk of creepy metal might have been ten pounds heavier than any screwdriver should be, but it sure as hell worked wonders on the screws that held the window in place.

     With a few twists and a firm yank, the frame popped off, and the window went with it.

     "Honey, I'm home." In went the backpack, and myself soon after it. I was in.

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     This place smelled like mould.

     I had accidentally bellyflopped into a dank, barely lit basement-type deal. The floors had the familiar feel of cold hard concrete that only a New Yorker could know so well. The only light in the room was cast through a door, cracked just enough to let in the upper floor's glow. The bright streak of soft orange light revealed a multitude of wooden shelves, built in a sort of honeycomb pattern, with dozens of individual spaces occupied by dusky black bottles.

     Brushing the floor dust from my coat, as I so often did in those days, I hobbled over to one the aforementioned shelves and selected a random bottle from it. The bottle was skinny on the top half and much thicker at the bottom; when I held it to the light, the label read "The Crying Grape." It had an image of a green grape with a disturbing look on its face and a single tear that ran down its cheek and dripped off its chin.

     Shrugging, I put that one back and grabbed another. This one read "Sweetwater Vineyards Merlot" and had a picture of a sweeping field of grapevines with a clear blue river snaking across the label. I put it back.

     "Rich people and their wine." Hey, wine was pretty valuable, right? Well, it must be if you've got an entire cellar dedicated to it. Oh, but which ones were actually worth good cash? I had not a clue about fine wine on Earth, and knew even less here in Equestria. It could all be just cheap stuff, or it could be worth its weight in gold. I'll never know. What I did know was that it was pretty heavy for a guy with limited backpack space.

     I grabbed my cigarette lighter and flicked it open. A tiny flame sparked to life with a hiss of flint on steel, making the room a bit easier to navigate in. It served as a crappy torch, but it was better than nothing.

     I pulled out random bottles of wine and gave the labels not much more than a glance, carefully keeping them away from the flame as to not accidentally set the faded paper on fire. There were a few repeat brands, but none that said "STEAL ME, I'M RARE AND EXPENSIVE" in black and white.

     Wait... Well, whaddya bet that the good stuff was in that barred-off alcove in the wall? There were at least a half dozen black bottles on display behind what looked like the bars of a jail cell. It was locked, of course. I tried picking it, but that was a no-go. I didn't think to bring a torque tool, (huuuuurr) and I probably wouldn't have been able to beat it anyway. It was a lot more secure than the lock on a cheap apartment or a simple chest. I decided to leave it be in favor of what lay upstairs.

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     Walking up stairs was weird in this body.

     Did you know that if the steps on a staircase were a few centimeters off, the average person would trip over them? I never had the chance to test that little theory until I had to walk up a set that went all the way up to my knees. I had to climb them on both my hands and feet to ensue that I didn't fall down, break a few bones, and wake up everyone from here to Canterlot.

"Be smart about the things you grab and where you grab them from. It's the bedrooms and the offices that you want to go for; they're where ponies tend to store their valuable stuff. But it's never worth it if you risk waking somepony up, understand? I've known Filthy Rich since I was a little older than you, and I can say for certain that he's always been a night owl. So if you hear hoofsteps, hide, even if they aren't coming your way. And if he's asleep, for the love of Celestia, don't wake him."

     I tried to climb as slowly and as quietly that I could, because I didn't know whether or not someone was awake and prowling around. It seemed likely, since the lights up there still shone on. Perhaps somebody left them on? Each wooden step would creak with the same ferocity of a lion's roar if I put a single pound of pressure on them. My teeth ground themselves tighter and tighter with each inch that I climbed higher.

     In reality, the sounds were probably barely audible to anyone other than myself, but any noises I made that were louder than total silence put me on edge. I mean, for Christ sake, I was trespassing in the home of someone who hadn't a clue that I was there. Back in NYC, that would be a one-way ticket to getting whacked with a blunt object by a startled stranger, or worse. Who knows what someone could do when their home was being invaded? Especially when that someone was fully prepared for thieves like myself. So, you could imagine why I was a little jittery.

     A single brown eye looked through the crack in the door. What lay beyond it looked like a library, a living room, or maybe an office. The walls across the room were lined with rugged wooden bookcases completely loaded with all kinds of dusty old tomes and other assorted knickknacks. Pushed up against the wall in the corner was a cushy-looking red pillow with a grand mahogany desk covered in scrolls of various sizes, a tiny black bottle with a flamboyant feather sticking out of it, several open books, as well as a few closed ones, along with bunch of other medieval office supplies. Oh, and a pony. A caramel earth pony with a graying mane and a pair of reading glasses. He squinted hard at a rather thick and boring-looking book, a scowl of concentration upon his mug. Yep, it was Filthy Rich all right.

     Just peachy.

     I made a hasty retreat back into the shadows. Luckily, he had not seen me from the corner of his eye yet. I was banking on the fact that most people (and ponies) tend to feel totally safe and secure when they're home alone. After all, no one expects a burglar on just any old night. Would you, the reader, expect someone to come up behind you and shout "Oogabooga!" then beat you up and steal your computer? As far as he was concerned, I couldn't have possibly been inside there without him knowing. He was in for a rude awakening for that next morning.

    Well, he would be if he just went to sleep already! I had to hang around watching him turn pages and scribble on paper for the next hour or so. I could have gnawed off my own fingers for a decent cup of espresso right around then. This guy's life must have been sooooo stimulating. Everday was an epic Lord of the Rings-style adventure for the owner of a small family business. I don't know how he can handle all of the awesome.

     He didn't even leave the room when I could finally come out of the stairway. I had to watch him slowly transition from perfectly awake, to being drowsy and zombie like, to knocked the hell out. Filthy Rich had firmly planted his muzzle into a dusty old tome that was thicker than my fist and fallen into an exhausted slumber. That's what I'd call Facebook.

     I'll be here all week.

     My muscles tensed up even tighter as the door creaked like a banshee in a glass factory. My eyeballs were glued on the pony the whole way through that agonizing sound. I watched his every movement with bated breath; he didn't seem to react much, thank god. He only twitched a little then went right back to sawing logs.

     I tiptoed around the room, looking at this and that, trying to ascertain what could be worth cash and what couldn't. I wasn't even going to BEGIN looking through the many shelves full of books on topics that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. There was a whole dozen of near identical books on "Equestrian General Law." I was interested to say the least, but my interest quickly waned when I realized that two of those things probably weighed more than I did.

     'Silus,' Pi finally spoke up. 'When you're done here, you're going to steal and read one of those books.'

     "Why?" I whispered.

     'Must you always question even the simplest of requests? For your information, I'd like to know what's inside of them. Specifically the books filled with Equestrian sociology and history.'

     "You said that you like to find out stuff on your own, as well as something about an analogy with a book and skipping to the last chapter or something. Have a change of heart?"

     I rifled through the lower levels of a bookcase. I wasn't sure of it, but I found a half-filled ashtray that might have been made out of silver. I tossed it in my bag, making sure to dump the ashes on the floor. I wished that this place were carpeted. Getting ashes out of a carpet without a vacuum cleaner had to be a nightmare.

     'All the scientific tools and instruments in the universe couldn't give me detailed records of the important past events that took place in Equestria in the same way that written word could.'

     "Fair enough." I eyed book after book on that shelf, skimming over the titles and not really reading them. I found one that said "Pre-Celestial History" on its spine and decided that was the one I wanted. Mostly because it was on the lower row and I didn't want to climb up anywhere to get the thing. I grabbed I and stuck it into my bag along with the ashtray.

     Going on with my quest for loot, I found an unlocked wooden trunk in the corner. All it held was a collection of boring shop records on faded yellow pieces of paper. I dug around a bit and found a single gold bit at the very bottom of the pile, which I pocketed. One down, eight hundred and forty nine to go.

     I searched a little more and found that behind Rich's desk was a dark grey iron box with a heavy-looking combination lock on it. I hadn't a clue how to crack a safe, so I let it be. No point in trying. Though I was curious as to what was inside. Money perhaps? Gems and gold bars? I'll never know.

     I spared a glance at Rich; a dark pool of drool had amassed on his book/pillow as I snooped around the place. While I was sure that Rich was essentially dead to the world, I lightly patted down his vest looking for something like a wallet or a coin purse or-- "Oh, hey-lo gorgeous."

     Around Filthy Rich's filthy hoof was what appeared to be a solid gold, diamond studded wrist watch with the name Trotex engraved into the side. Oh pony puns, never change. If I knew anything about anything, then I knew that this little baby was expensive. That is, if it wasn't a fake. Did Equestria even have mass produced knock-offs here? I had no idea, but I wanted it anyway.

     Yoink. I undid the latch and the watch slipped off into my grubby little hands like melty butter. Being hoof-sized, it was too big to fit around my slender wrist so I tossed it into my backpack and that was that.

     I continued to rifle through his pockets; there wasn't anything interesting so I moved on to his desk. Opening and closing the multitude of wooden drawers showed me nothing but more and more dull papers and office supplies. There was a single empty ink pot that looked like it was made from brass or something, and it didn't weigh too much either. I grabbed it.

"Now, what you're going to need to do (besides robbing him blind) is get us a sheet of paper that we know for certain he has in his possession." Royal told me."He probably keeps it somewhere close so that he could accesses it at a moment's notice, but not so close that he keeps it on his person at all times. Now, It looks kind of like a big map, or maybe a blueprint. You'll probably know it when you see it, understand?

"Yeah, but what's it a map of?

"All in due time, my orange friend."

     One more to open aaaand... jackpot! Alongside a collection of fancy writing quills, the desk's main drawer held a wrought iron key and a small slip of paper that looked out of place in the pile of legal documents. Not giving a single shit about this guy's privacy, I read the note.

Tiara,

If you're reading this, then it's likely you've forgotten the combination to the safe. Remember, this is emergencymoneyonly. Having saddlebags or clothes that didn't adhere to the latest fashion trend is not an emergency, not by any stretch of the imagination. If I am not on a business trip and still in Ponyville, then ask me before you open the safe. This money isn't just for casual spending, you know.

-Dad

11 - 24 - 19

P.S. There's no need to mess with any of the papers in there. You wouldn't want anything to do with them anyway.

     Who's the luckiest man in Equestria? I'm sure you don't have to guess, because I'll tell ya! IT'S ME. Irony was a dish best served with larceny. I loved irony, and larceny... well, I suppose it's okay if I'm stealing from someone who ripped off The Family, right? Stealing from a rich bad guy had to be better than stealing from a middle class innocent pony.

     I kinda couldn't believe that he was dumb enough to leave the combination lying like two feet away from the safe. Wasn't he smart enough to keep the metaphorical key and lock separate? Huh, some master thief he turned out to be. Royal made me think that would have rabid guard dogs and motion detectors or something.

     Well, here goes nothing. I carefully slid under the desk--with Rich still zonked out on it-- and dialed in the combo. The knob made a satisfying clicking noise as I turned it round and round. I had to do it over a few times because I had no idea whether I should start from the left or right (it was right, in case you were wondering), but on the third attempt, the safe clicked. Something in my chest fluttered when I heard that sound. I didn't know whether it was from the fear of Rich waking up, the thrill of sneaking through a pony's house undetected, or the anticipation to see what was housed inside. Whatever it was, something about opening that safe got my heart beating faster, and it felt kind of... good. It felt like I had accomplished something.

     Without warning, the door swung open, and with it came the deafening screech of two slightly rusted hinges grinding against one another. I know that this comparison is a cliché in descriptive writing, but it has to be said: the noise was the same as nails on a chalkboard, and it was loud. Too loud for me to get away with.

     Then came a snorting, not unlike that of a pig, or maybe someone that had been rudely awakened from a deep slumber. After that, murmuring. His words were unintelligible and confused, but they didn't have to be such to convey his meaning. What the hell was that?

     Heart in my throat and bladder barely under control, I slid back under the desk as far as I could, as there was no time at all to hide anywhere else. I just hoped that he wouldn't accidentally kick me in the gut while I was down there.

     "H-hello?" Filthy Rich shakily called out. "Diamond?"

     The world went utterly silent for a brief moment. I held my breath and stood as still and as quiet as a stone, and I'd imagine that Rich did as well. You could have heard a pin-- No, screw that, you could have heard a damn feather drop.

     I thanked god that he was the first to let out his breath, which was in the form of a long groan. "Ohh, I've got start sleeping in a real bed." Rich said to himself. I nearly cried with relief. All of a sudden, his legs shifted off of that pillow seat. He was walking away from the desk and right out of the room.

     I was alone. Halle-freakin'-lujah. I tentatively poked my head from the desk to see if it was really true. Had I really just gotten out of such a close shave not one, but two times in a row? Jesus Christ, was being an ottsel like wearing a rabbit's foot around your neck? That was just pure dumb luck, no ifs ands or buts about it.

     I was free to do as I wished in this room, and if Rich decided to go to bed, the rest of the house would soon be mine to play about in. I'd have free reign over all of his stuff.

     Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.