Truth Is Smooth

It was late Friday afternoon in the city of Canterlot. The ponies young and old were yet to make their way to various social gatherings and crowd the streets in the process. The rays of the autumn sun nearing to the horizon but not quite setting yet illuminated colorful leaves of tree alleys and parks among the alabaster houses with their facades now turned into shining gold.

Alas, with all the beauty of the city leisurely gliding in, its golden afternoon couldn’t break through the thick layer of worries and depressed thoughts that clouded the mind of a lone unicorn walking the empty street.

Actually, many would desire to see his tempo exhibited by the Reaper on their dying day. The stallion would usually undertake this journey in the greatest haste possible; anypony hurries when they go visit their friends after all. But when the heart is heavy, small pleasures we normally crave lose their luster.

His route lead him to a two-storey house with a average-sized garden. The mansions of Canterlotian nobleponies were rather far away, both in the distance and the level of luxury, but despite that the neighbourhood could be called anything but poor.

Similar description would easily pass for the stallion, who now practically dragged his hooves on the ground. His meticulously kept aquamarine mane and tail sported a dim sheen, and not a single speck of dirt could be found on his emerald green coat. From his light pudge one could easily deduce a sedentary character of the unicorn’s job. This conclusion was only reinforced by stallion’s cutie mark because his flanks bore pictures of a parchment and a stack of bits.

The amount of sunlight had noticeably decreased before he finally arrived at the door of the house, and after short contemplation he sighed and reluctantly knocked on the polished mahogany. The door swung open almost sooner than he managed to put his hoof back on the ground. His prolonged journey apparently roused impatience and restlessness in his friends. A tall beige pegasus with an orange mane and a goatee stood at the threshold smiling brightly.

“Profitable, dear, you finally arrived! I was just about to leave and look for you. We were afraid something bad had happened,” he said, his words filled with sincere joy at seeing somepony, a phenomenon rarely seen in Canterlot. Then his eyes took in the looks of the embodiment of misery standing in front of him, and his smile turned into a concerned frown.

“Something bad did happened, didn’t it?”

“Yes, Southern Breeze. I’m sorry I am so late, but… Could I get something stronger to drink first?” Profitable asked tiredly in low voice.

“Of course! Where are my manners, come in.” Southern Breeze motioned the other stallion to the library and left towards the kitchen to collect required beverage.

Profitable’s pace didn’t quicken at all. In fact, the prospect of questions his friends would pile on him after seeing him in his current state weighted his legs even more.

Maybe they aren’t here yet. Maybe they won’t show up today, he silently hoped. But upon entering the library his hopes turned to ash. Both remaining ponies who were supposed to attend this weekly meeting centered around poker, drinking and idle chat were already present, sitting around a round table in the centre of the room, drinks and gaming chips ready.

“Good afternoon, Profitable, why so glum today?” a violet unicorn with a white mane asked immediately.

“Yeah, what’s up, Quickie?” a red earth pony added, grinning from ear to ear.

At the mention of the nickname derived from his original name Profitable Deal visibly winced. The motion was mimicked by the earth pony only moments ago, when he found himself under the hard glare of Southern Breeze.

After he almost bore a hole into the joker, Breeze turned his now softened gaze to Profitable.

“Here is your whiskey. I poured you a double one.”

Profitable grabbed the glass with magic, nodded his head thanks and took a seat at the table.

“You know what, Tomato Growth? You are right. Quickey,” he smiled bitterly at the earth pony. “That’s the whole problem. If I just weren’t Quickey, this mess would probably not happen,” he sighed and downed his glass in one gulp. “Would you get me another, Breeze?” he motioned his glass to the pegasus who took it immediately and left the room.

“So, they are sending you on another business trip?” the violet unicorn asked.

“Yes, Lavender. And that means that hussy will have another two days of romping with some bastard! If I just knew who he is, a squad of Royal Guard wouldn’t be enough to protect him!” Profitable slammed his hoof into table for emphasis and accepted the refilled glass. In an attempt to spare himself more trips to the kitchen Breeze brought the whole bottle into the library. It now stood proudly in front of Profitable whose face brightened up at the sight a little.

“I still don’t see why you don’t tell her you are leaving for another trip and then hide somewhere to find out,” Tomato chimed. The others nodded their agreement, albeit reluctantly since the idea came from somepony else than them.

“You think I didn’t have that idea too? It just wouldn’t work. She knows my boss’s secretary. They attended high school together or something. And like all mares, they are best friends forever,” he paused to take another swig, “which means they tell each other everything. She know perfectly well, when I have to go for a business trip. Even earlier than I do,” he concluded and hung his head low.

This wasn’t the first time this group of friends held a discussion on that particular theme. Everything started few months ago after Profitable Deal’s employer entrusted him with leading various negotiations in other cities for the company. After returning home, Profitable started to notice little traces of unwanted presence in the household. Pillows smelled of an unfamiliar cologne, two wine glasses were left in the sink, and there were many other hints, but Profitable couldn’t find any indisputable evidence. Trying to get a confession directly from his wife would be completely ridiculous too. All he could do was grind his teeth.

“That’s not everything, is it, Profitable?” inquired Lavender. “Every time you had announced another trip to us, your sour mood would have passed already. But a changeling would commit suicide, if he tried to feed on you today.”

Profitable just shook his head. “The trips become more and more frequent. Don’t take me wrong, it doesn’t matter how many time she cheats on me. I hate her at this point anyway. But this way she gets what she wants. I just feel so powerless…”

“Then get divorced finally!” Tomato demanded.

“Without a proof of her adultery? Have you lost the rest of your wit? She would sue me for everything I have, and she would win!” exclaimed Profitable.

“Well, then we have to obtain you that necessary evidence,” Breeze stepped into the conversation for the first time.

“Hear the words of wisdom,” Profitable exclaimed sarcastically and chuckled, but the sound lacked any joy. “And how would you do that, oh blessed preacher? Enlighten us!”

“I might know about a way, but If you want to act like this, I can keep it to myself just as well,” Breeze huffed and mock-pouted. He was cross from being accused of stating the obvious and unhelpful truth, but such petty reason couldn’t deter him from helping a friend.

However, the exaggerated display of annoyance was taken absolutely seriously. Profitable cooled down immediately and adopted an apologetic face.

“I’m sorry, Breeze. I shouldn’t have vented my frustration on you like that.”

“It’s alright, I know this whole thing is hard for you. It’s me who should apologize,” answered Breeze and smiled on Profitable reassuringly.

“No, the fault is entirely mine. You are trying to help me, and I just bash on you all the time!” retaliated Profitable.

At this point Tomato couldn’t hold back any longer. His impatient nature more typical for a pegasus than an earth pony prevailed, and he stepped in.

“Hey, you two lovebirds, either get a room, or cut to the point. We have still poker to play, you know?” he demanded, while tapping his hoof in agitation.

“Oh, right,” snapped Breeze from formulating another counter apology. “Yes, well, I have a friend who has a friend who can make a product suitable for this situation. You would at last find out who the culprit is. The only problem is that the product is illegal.

“Not that I care about that too much, but why is it forbidden by law? And what kind of product are we talking about?” asked Profitable, now sitting straighter in his chair, his curiosity and hopes piqued.

“The kind you keep away from foals unless you are ready for explaining bees and butterflies to them,” Breeze smiled impishly. “As for the legal issues, well, the main ingredient is poison joke oil. And you know that since poison joke counters special talents, if they catch you with it, they will immediately assume you want to prevent Celestia from rising sun or something,” he continued his explanation waving his hoof in the air dismissively.

The looks of comprehension spread across the faces of his listeners, complemented by Profitable’s first genuine smile of that evening.

“That sounds wonderful! Could you get me that product?” asked Profitable eagerly.

“Of course, but it will take some time. When are you leaving?”

“On Monday morning.” stated Profitable.

“I won’t manage to get it that fast. But I will have it for you next Friday when you show up, and you will use it for the next trip you make. How does it sound?” asked Breeze with a wink.

“Great! She is so going tl get it! I can’t wait! Let’s toast to this. To revenge and justice and poison joke!” exclaimed Profitable.

When they emptied their glasses, Lavender asked with a smile, “So who shuffles first, and how high are the blinds?”

The group of friends returned to their scheduled program then. With a solution in sight, Profitable finally climbed from his pit of sorrow and enjoyed the evening thoroughly. When he started his journey home, his appearance didn’t even resemble the broken unicorn from before. He was full of anticipation and almost looked forward to his upcoming trip.

Profitable sat at the table in the kitchen of his apartment. Sometimes he wished he had a house, but despite the pay raise he received recently, the outrageous prices of realty in Canterlot prevented him from fulfilling that dream. That said, most of his co-workers would kill for this apartment anyway; four rooms and a kitchen with windows into the park in the downtown area were considered justified reasons for jealousy.

Magical chandelier decorated with pictures of flowers shone down on unicorn’s figure trembling in nervous anticipation. The midnight was quickly approaching, so Profitable wasn’t afraid that somepony would interrupt him. His wife rarely waited for him to go to bed these days, their lovelife could be likened to a lightning in the clear sky - it happened from time to time, but nopony could predict when it would happen next time.

In front of him lay an unassuming package wrapped in brown paper. It was given to Profitable few hours prior by Breeze, and it distracted him to such an extent that he lost all the games they played on that day’s meeting.

His nervousness was also heightened because the package was delivered at the last possible moment. Another trip had been scheduled for the next day. It was supposed to be a business lunch with the CEO of a partner company, followed by a banquet meant to strengthen current connections and build new ones. Profitable would be returning on Sunday morning. Perfect time for seeing the results of the product.

But before any of that, necessary preparations had to be made. Profitable held his breath, reached for the package and ripped the paper off. To his shock, a brown cardboard box appeared. “I could have seen this coming. Don’t know what I expected. Colorful logo and some crazy name and an advertising statement? They are operating illegally after all,” he muttered for himself and opened the box.

On the top lay a flyer with a logo depicting bright blue flower and a gold drop of oil. Directly under the picture the advertisement said:

LUBRICATING GEL TRUTH IS SMOOTH

Is your marriage on the ropes?
Does whatever your loved one does with their tongue feel like a sandpaper, be it speaking or anything else?
Is your love screeching and chafing all the time?
In that case we are sorry, our product can’t erase that friction.
However, we can show you what came between you and your loved one.
Prove your loved one’s adultery and find out with whom they cheat on you!

Lubricating gel Truth Is Smooth contains high quality poison joke oil extracted with utmost care for a maximal preservation of the active substance.
Improved viscosity of the gel ensures adequate lubrication and prevents any suspicion on the side of culprits.
A single use will trigger the desired unmistakable effect.
Apart from common reaction to poison joke exposure, a special surprise reaction will occur due to the unusual way of application.
Following a popular demand, Lubricating Gel Truth Is Smooth is now available in 5 different flavoured and perfumed variants.

Profitable’s jaw hang loose in his state of surprise. Strangely enough, of all the thoughts appropriate for this situation the most banal one crossed his mind: Breeze didn’t let me choose the flavor!

Once he recovered from his stupor, Profitable removed the rest of the items from the box - a white tube without any inscription and four ampules marked “Antidote.” He shook his head at the number implicating rather wild activities of adulterous ponies, and then he shook it once more at the idea of antidotes in general.

The Tartarus will freeze before I need these anyway. Whatever happens to them, they will be that way till the end of their days! he thought, a smirk playing on his lips.

Tiptoeing and generally making sure not to make any noise Profitable made his way to the bedroom. The sounds of his wife’s dainty snores filled the air. He opened his nightstand and replaced the tube present in it with the new one. From his experience, whoever was this secret lover of his wife had no decency whatsoever and didn’t hesitate to use Profitable’s personal items.

With the trap set, he left the bedroom again and proceeded to destroy any and all remaining evidence.

I’ll keep the ampules in my saddlebags, so she doesn’t find them. The rest of the things must burn, he recapitulated for himself. He took out a huge pot, tore the paper to pieces, threw the pieces in and set them on fire. Pity I can’t keep that flyer. I would have it framed and hang it above my bed. Maybe Breeze can get me another one later, he contemplated.

The paper turned to ash soon enough. Profitable added some water into the pot and poured the grey mash into the toilette. With everything taken care of he entered the bedroom once more and snuggled into his duvet. He had a ticket for the early morning train and needed to be fresh for his planned program after all.