Interrogation file #56

by GrouchoMarxDisciple

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Derpy Hooves, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Doctor Whooves, Sad, Original Character
Length: 1525

What can I do? It's my Cutie Mark. I mean, it's kinda my destiny. I do it. Doesn't mean I like it though.

My name is Nimble Hooves. I am the son of one Miss Ditzy and Time Turner.
Aw, but my right side is my good side!
My Cutie Mark is a broken lock, as your camera is currently noting. Now, if it was a fixed lock, I could have been a locksmith, or a security officer. It's broken, like the rest of my life. No, I couldn't be a normal colt, not I. My special talent is theft. That is supposed to be bad, I think. But it's what I do and what I love.
A detective will be in soon? Make sure he has plenty of time. Boy, do I have a story to tell.

Published 2013-12-10 18:50:04 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-10 18:50:04 UTC

You want the loot now? Tough.

How funny. You are interested in my story, but you don't really care about me, do you? I think this was most obvious when you dragged me in here by my ear, slammed me on the ground (When I couldn't catch myself with my hooves, on top of it all), and told me to talk. Let me tell you, I'm not impressed with the conditions of this place, and the service is simply dreadful. Is there a complaint box I can use somewhere? I better get like a free meal or night or something, or else I will certainly not be returning.

Okay, okay. I'll tell you my story. Sorry bud, but you want the loot, you listen up.

Now that we understand each other, I'll begin.

My name is Nimble Hooves. I am the son of Ms. Ditzy and Mr. Time Turner. I grew up in Ponyville, lived there my whole childhood. Actually, that's not entirely true. I guess I moved out when I turned 15 and lived in Las Pegasus for a while, but I think I don't count as a "child" by that point.

You're right, I'm rambling. Let me tell you that Ponyville was the last place in the world you'd think would produce a guy like me. My parents were both hard-working (but my dad was NEVER around, which was weird since he made clocks. You would think he wouldn't have to travel a lot, but apparently he was world-famous or something.) I mean, I wasn't mistreated or anything. I loved my parents, and they loved me.

School was fine, I guess. I made okay grades, worked hard at my homework, and dreamed of what my future would bring. You know, I think I have like 300 sketches of myself finding my "Cutie Mark" Heh. If only I had known then.

I made a few friends, and even got close to this filly once, when I was 14. Her name was Cotton Cloud, and she made candies, just like her mom. You try her cotton candy, and nothing ever tastes the same. IT was her special talent, what she was born to do. You know, I envy her. She makes her candy, sells it for a profit, life is good. What do you expect me to do? I have a talent too, you kno-

OW! What was that for?

Alright. The facts. Sheesh.

We went on a few dates, kissed once... It was a beautiful time. I was on top of the world, my grades were good, and my parents loved me. It was a good childhood, and despite my blank-flankedness (I'm pretty sure I set a world record), I felt... loved. What more could I ask for?

I remember very distinctly the day. It was my 15th birthday, the sun was shining, and the birds were singing. I was going to go out with my family for a picnic that day (it was a Saturday, no school). I had high hopes of getting a new projector, so I could host movie nights and maybe even be popular, albeit only because I had a cool gadget. Maybe I wanted to impress my filly-friend too. In fact, I'm pretty sure that was the reason.

We went to set up the picnic, and my mom was getting out her famous hay-and-daisy sandwiches. I am not kidding when I say I want to be put in a cell full of her sandwiches. Consider it my last request. If you ever had my mom's cooking...

Hey, you want the pepperoni, you get the whole pizza.

Alright. So it was at this picnic that Mom and Dad break the news to me.

My Dad spoke first. "Son, I have something important to tell you." He had this tone, this tone of voice that made your mane stand on end. You knew he was being serious just by how deep and powerful that voice was. "Something has come up, at work. I am going to be gone for a while."

I think I grumbled something here, because I was mad that he was never around. I was mad that he never told me what he was doing. I was mad that I didn't get that projector I wanted. I was 15, don't look at me like that! You thought things that were just as petty when you were that age.

Well, this is where my life went to Tartarus in a tote bag. And that's because this is where my mom said: "And... I have to go with him."

My jaw dropped. I think it literally dropped. "B-b-both of you?"

Mr. Turner spoke up. "Yes. We will be gone for a few months at most."

I was still in shock. "But... what about me? What will I do for two months while you two are off gallivanting about? Did you pause to think about that?" I know, those were big words. One of my hobbies was reading the dictionary.

My mother's voice was much more soothing to me. "We've arranged for you to go stay with your sister for the time being."

If I was shocked before, now I was livid. "DINKY? As in, party all day-don't bother coming home at night-Dinky?"

My father gave me his patented "Shut Up" stare, and I fell silent. "I'm sorry, it's the best we could do on short notice. I can't tell you much more than that."

Mom then added her "We both love you so much" line here.

I didn't listen.

Sometimes, I wish I had trusted them. Sometimes, I think at night about how different my life could be, now, if I had merely listened. Maybe I would be different. Maybe I would not be here. Maybe I'd be at home, raising a family and working a normal job.

But I didn't. Without a word, I got up, stormed off, and walked into the town square. I suppose I wanted somewhere to think, something to take my mind off of my life. As I sat there, fighting both the urge to go home and the urge to cry, I saw it.

It was right in the window. It was so beautiful. And it was ripe for the taking. I had wanted one for over a year now, but I hadn't the money, and my parents hadn't picked up on the hints I dropped, either.

It was about then that I first heard the voice. Nim, you know you want it.

Yeah, I do.

So why don't you go over there... and take it?

I was mortified. But... stealing is wrong! My parents taught me better than that!

Parents?And what are your parents doing right now? Watching you, caring for you?

They... but...

They're abandoning you. You are all alone. Nothing they do matters to you anymore!

But... I'll get arrested!

Who says you have to get caught? Look, the shop owner's away. You just go over there, find one on the shelf... and take it.

As this internal war raged inside my head, I walked mechanically toward the store. It was unattended, but still open, because nopony would expect a thief in Ponyville.

That's right, we can just take it, you and I. We take it and tell everypony we "found" it. Which is true, we did "find" it.

It was a rookie mistake. I took too long picking it out, deciding which one to take, and trying to think of a place to stash it. When I walked out, happily holding my treasure, the store owner came back.

"Hey, kid. Did you pay for that?" His voice was kind, but stern.

I thought up a lie. "Y-yeah, I did. A long time ago."

He lowered his brows. "That's a lie. I just saw you walk out of my store with it." He tapped his hoof.

Now, if this was modern me, I would have come up with a better lie. Maybe that I wanted to make an exchange, or was comparing my model with a newer one. But, being the rookie I was, I decided the gig was up.

So I ran.

Ran, and ran, and ran, until the owners cries of "Thief" were drowned out, until I couldn't see Ponyville Clock Tower anymore, until my hooves were sore from running. I must have run five miles until I stopped. While I was catching my breath, I happened to spot my flank.

A broken lock. I had a special talent, like everypony else.

I am a thief.

I heard that my parents did return, and looked for me for a few years. I was holed out in Las Pegasus, which believe me, is the best place to get lost. I heard since that my mother is dead, and my father up and left one day and never returned.

I say, good riddance.

What? Oh, right, it is late. Hey, if it's not too much trouble can I get a bed in here? The floor is cold.

Well, have a good night anyways. Ya jerk.

Author's Note

What do you think of this story? Should I continue it?