Mare-Do-Well: Half Moon

Dodge City, Equestria

Ten Year Later...

“Gentlecolts, what's it going to be? Will you turn down a beautiful piece like this, or will you take a chance?” says a starved mare in her early thirties wearing a cheaply sewn burlap cloak with a unicorn friendly snow cap. Her voice is confident and has a pleasant edge to it that once gave her the ability to draw great numbers to her, and even though her once pristine coat and silky mane are covered with dirt and grease, she does not let this effect her tone.

There are three stallions in the rundown pawnshop, but the stallion she is focusing on is in his sixties, fat with a brown coat and a graying mane tied back to a ponytail. He is sitting behind a glass display counter that is poorly organized, but his front hooves are pressed together and his scrutinizing eyes have yet to break away from the gold chained, ruby decorated necklace the unicorn mare is dangling in front of his face.

The old stallion, Bronze Standard, looks at the other two stallions, both of which are in their thirties and have heavy builds with identical Royal Guard style mane-cuts. One has a green coat with a yellow mane and the other has a white coat with a black mane, and the mare's skin crawls when the two stallions look at each other, then back at her. However, despite the growing tension, she still keeps her charade up with a confident voice and smile.

“Well, what's it going to be?” says the mare, adding in a cocky smile and raised brow for flare of the show. She knows he wants it, now all she has to do is convince him to buy it from her for her multi-hundred bits price.

As he watches the necklace dangle, Bronze Standard furrows his brow and says: “It is a beautiful necklace, and I really do want it, but I'm not going to pay anything for it.”

The mare frowns, but her eyebrow still remains raised, more out of question than taunting, though.

“Why not?” she asks snidely.

“Because its mine,” answers Bronze Standard immediately.

The mare's confidence is destroyed with that simple sentence, and she swallows a rock hard lump in her throat when the two stallions behind her step forward. She switches her gaze from the two stallions to Bronze Standard when he walks out from behind his counter without breaking eye contact with her.

“And since you keep calling yourself 'Trixie' I'm going to guess that that is your name,” continues Bronze Standard, “and I'm also going to take a wild guess and say that it was you who broke into my house yesterday and stole this along with the one hundred bits and all my mint gum.”

At the conclusion of his sentence, Bronze Standard is standing in front of the former Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon, who is now having difficulty keeping herself from shaking or sweating, or her heart from beating rapidly.

“That thief was you, wasn't it?” asks Bronze Standard, now barely a couple of feet away.

Trixie fails at her innocent smile. “Trixie doesn't-”

“That thief was you, wasn't it, Trixie?”

Trixie sighs in defeat and looks down, nodding, and Bronze Standard smiles thinly and waves at the two stallions behind her.

“Buzz Cut, Fox Trot, why don't you two teach our little thief here a lesson,” he says as the two stallions approach Trixie.

The green stallion snickers and Bronze Standard grabs the necklace with his mouth while Trixie keeps her head down. She is really cursing herself for being so stupid as to steal and sell something in the same area. She remembers how when she broke in that house she told herself to take the bits and run. Then she saw the gum and decided to take some of that, after that came the necklace. Seeing that thing of beauty, she figured she could pawn it to get enough money to buy a one way ticket to the Crystal Kingdom, Prance, or, Higher Powers forbid, Neighico. But alas, her choices and sheer dumb luck have brought her face to face with the very person she robbed.

Thoughts aside, Trixie refuses to go down like a chump, and when the green stallion, Buzz Cut, puts his hoof on her shoulder, she whirls around and socks him square on the jaw. He swears and stumbles away, clutching his jaw, and Trixie shoots Fox Trot in the chest with a telekinetic blast that sends him crashing against the gated door. He falls to the ground, groaning, and Trixie gallops out of the pawn shop and pushes aside some pedestrians making their way down the wet sidewalk.

“Get her!” shouts Bronze Standard.

Trixie looks over her shoulder just in time to see Bronze Standard's henchponies run out. It takes them a second to find her, but when they do, they run full speed after her. She looks back ahead when Fox Trot breaks away, and she uses her magic to throw what she is hoping to be an overloaded fruit stand in Buzz Cut's way. As it turns out, someone just did a fantastic job on painting a piece of plywood, but because of the unexpected lightness of its weight, Trixie's magic overcompensates and she hits Buzz Cut in the face with it.

Trixie chuckles victoriously to herself, stealing one last look to watch Buzz Cut groan and shift under the splintered wood before she runs into the alley. She reaches the end and turns right into Fox Trot's hoof, leading to a perfect close-line and a brutal headache after her skull smacks the ground with a loud crack.

Trixie's eyes spin and she swears she sees stars as she lies on her back with a fresh bruise forming on her collar. With her being on her back, Trixie can see the gray clouds looming overhead for another round of rain, and her attempts to move are compromised when Fox Trot steps on her barrel, holding her down effectively. When Buzz Cut rounds the corner, maw wet from his bleeding nose, Trixie blinds Fox Trot with a flash of light then kicks him in the gonads. He swears through gritted teeth and falls off, and when Trixie rolls to her hooves, she is tackled into the brick wall by Buzz Cut. She seethes with pain, but it quickly turns into a snarl and she punches Buzz Cut in the eye. He doesn't pull back enough for her to escape, and when he punches her back, it is hard enough to send her crashing to the dirty pavement. Trixie is then kicked in the side, sending her gasping as a burst of pain goes through her ribs, and before she can fully charge her horn for another defense, Buzz Cut stomps on her head and she blacks out.

~~~~~~~~~~

Trixie's eyes flutter open after an unknown amount of time has passed. With every blink, the garage she is in becomes clearer, as do the three stallions from the pawn shop. She sees them talking amongst themselves next to a long, blocky vehicle that has a wooden frame with metal trim and a boiler engine on the side with pipes running along the side. Its wheels are thick and it has curtains over its windows as well as electric lights in lantern shaped containers attached to the corners. Another thing Trixie realizes is that her hooves are tied, front to front and back to back, with old rope, her mouth is gagged and she has a horn cuff on.

Currently Trixie is too dazed to feel anything other than sluggish, but even then, she still looks at the stallions when their voices become clear enough to understand.

“I think Boss will really like her. She's a feisty one,” says Buzz Cut, his voice sounding funny because of the wads of bloody tissue he has stuffed up his nostrils.

Bronze Standard nods. “I think he will, too. When you get there, tell that ugly bastard the price for her is seven hundred, no less.”

“You seriously think he's going to pay that much for her?” asks Fox Trot.

“If he doesn't want her, bring her back and she'll be our little toy,” says Bronze Standard carelessly.

“Your little toy. I'm still married,” says Fox Trot with narrowed eyes.

Buzz Cut snorts a laugh. “Well, shoot, now I'm hoping he'll say no to her.”

Trixie groans and weakly raises her tied hooves to touch the throbbing spot on her head. The scratching of rope against concrete and her voice catches their attention, and the last thing she sees before getting knocked out again is Bronze Standard's hoof to her face.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, Trixie's eyes open once again, this time because of a bump in the road that tosses her what feels like a few feet in the air and has her land funky near a window. Trixie blinks and looks around while one of her captors makes a lighthearted comment about the bump. She can feel the ropes and gag still on her, and she also hears the end of a song playing on the radio. When the guitar fades, a very energetic mare starts speaking in such a way that she sounds naturally carefree.

“Now was that a good song or was that a great song?” says the cheerful mare. “Anything less and I'll call it heresy against music. And speaking of music, 'Project Musicure' by the bands Chain Link Park, 3 Barns Up and TwoRepublics met record ticket sales when they played at the Ponyville Hoofball Field, and might I add that Sweetie Belle made a very heart warming first impression. I wouldn't be surprised if her album in works wins some awards. Anyway, peeps, after these messages you'll get another two hours of nonstop music, followed by another story revolving around the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well, her copycat, Missy, and their adventures in Ponyville County. This DJ-Pon3 signing off!”

After DJ-Pon3 announces her break, upbeat music and cheers come on over the radio with sounds of coins falling and cards shuffling in the background.

“Wanna win big? Then head on over to the Card Casino on Canterlot's famous Magic Boulevard!” says an obnoxious mare trying way too hard to sound young and hip.

“Why do you listen to that FM junk?” asks Fox Trot moodily over the advertisement.

“Because its better than the boring AM garbage you listen to,” says Buzz Cut.

“AM is nothing but sports, news and talk shows while FM is filled with songs about sex, drugs, or how it's okay to cheat on your loved ones. I think I know where all the garbage is.”

“You're joking, right? I mean look at us, and you don't... Wow. I worry about you sometimes.”

“Don't even get started.”

“I won't. But for the record, Lips of an Alicorn is a great song.”

“You just said that you wouldn't get started!”

Buzz Cut laughs while Fox Trot shakes his head and looks out the window. Trixie wishes she could see what they see, but all she gets is a wooden roof and closed curtains with flowers and leaves decorating them. From what little she can see from the windshield, though, she determines that they are on a long stretch of boring road, miles from civilization, and the weather has yet to improve from its rainy state.

The vehicle then slows down and starts to turn into a place that Trixie cannot see.

“What are you doing?” says Fox Trot sharply.

“We need to restock the water and coal, and get better power gems,” says Buzz Cut.

There is a pause, and when Fox Trot shifts to have a look at the gauges on the dashboard, Trixie closes her eyes and pretends to be sleeping.

“Dammit,” sighs Fox Trot, audibly slumping back in his seat. “I told you to get the premium coal at the last station.”

“And I did! Which means that there is something wrong with the power gems,” says Buzz Cut.

Fox Trot sighs loudly. “Alright, but I'm going to be the one who's going to get it.”

“You think I'm too dumb to get the right stuff?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

The vehicle slows to a stop at the edge of the parking lot, and when it makes an odd clunk and jerks before coming to a complete stop, Fox Trot turns to Buzz Cut and points at him as he keeps one of his hooves on the door.

“You stay here and make sure she doesn't get out,” orders Fox Trot. “We'll get the refills when I get the gems properly installed.”

“Why are you sounding paranoid. She ain't getting out. She's out cold!” says Buzz Cut.

“She stopped snoring, so she must be awake, listening to us speak, and it will be your cutie mark on the burner, not mine, if she gets out, alright?”

There is a few more seconds of silence before Buzz Cut murmurs his acknowledgment, and Fox Trot pushes open the door and slams it shut. After the door is closed Trixie opens her eyes again she sees that she is alone with Buzz Cut.

The green stallion huffs and watches Fox Trot for a few more seconds before he looks at Trixie. This time she doesn't close her eyes since she figures that Fox Trot already knows so there is no point in hiding it. Though, that goes without saying that a part of her she wishes she pretended to sleep because Buzz Cut's smile is unnerving.

“Well, now that he is out of the way... You almost broke my nose, you know that?” says Buzz Cut.

Trixie snorts, wanting so badly to say something sarcastic just to tick him off, but, alas, with the gag in her mouth, all she can do is grunt and collect spit. However, her defiant stare disappears when Buzz Cut climbs over his seat and starts going towards her, nearly drooling with his perverted smile.

“And that means you owe me a quicky!” says the predator.

Trixie's screams are muffled and with her hooves bound her flailing is pitiful at best. Buzz Cut clambers on top of Trixie and presses his hoof down on her face so her head is squished between him and the carpet of dirt on the floor. She wiggles sporadically and voices her protests with angry, muffled whines, but all that accomplishes is a tighter press that makes her groan in pain.

“Stop it or I'll smack your face off!” barks Buzz Cut, adding: “I'm going to take the gag off and we're going to have a little fun for only five minutes. Scream, and I'll shove the gag back in and take the fun somewhere lower, got it?”

Trixie looks up at him, eyes watering and breathing ragged, but still she nods a couple of seconds later. This makes Buzz Cut beam, making the lust in him shine like the sun.

“Good choice!” he says, and as he pulls the gag off he adds: “This is going to be-”

He ends his sentence with a very loud, agonizing scream as Trixie snaps at him and sinks her teeth into his hoof. Just the taste alone tells Trixie that the stallion hasn't bathed in a while, but she doesn't care about the taste of dirt, sweat and blood mixing on her tongue. And she certainly doesn't care about the tears pooling in Buzz Cut's eyes as he waggles his hoof to get her off of him.

Trixie only releases Buzz Cut when h punches her in the gut, pushing all of the air out of her lungs way too fast, causing her to keel over, coughing and gasping for air as she curls on the ground. She looks up at him with a bloody smile, though, when he snarls at her, clutching his hoof that is now dripping blood.

“You whorse!” cries Buzz Cut.

Buzz Cut leaps on top of Trixie and she clamps her mouth shut, forcing herself not to scream from the fear and pain of his brutality as he tries to put the gag back on.

“I warned you, you little shit!” growls Buzz Cut.

Trixie wiggles herself so that she is on her back and sends her bound hind legs to kick Buzz Cut in the gonads as hard as she can. The tearful yelp and curses coming from the pervert's mouth is more than enough poof that her stunt has worked miracles, and when he rolls off of her, clutching his pride, she awkwardly worms away from him. But, in the long run, her crawling is not that far since the back of the mini-train is not big enough for two ponies to be wrestling in, and she screams and awkwardly kicks at Buzz Cut when he tries to grab her again.

“I am going to fuck you up, you damn whorse!” shouts Buzz Cut furiously.

The green stallion once again gets on top of Trixie and presses one hoof against her neck while the other rises for a strike. Not wanting to get punched again, Trixie moves her head out of the way in time for him to slam his hoof against the floor, leaving a crack on the wood. He growls and tries again, but Trixie slams her bound front hooves against his head. He jerks to the side and howls in pain when his face breaks through the back window, leaving bloody, jagged edges and  cuts on the his face. When Buzz Cut makes another attempt to grab Trixie, she snarls and in a confusing mess of movement she ends up on top of him with her ropes pulling against his neck.

Buzz Cut gags and falls on top of Trixie, squishing her between his back and the floor. Pain erupts through her body, but she bites back the tears and keeps the stallion held on top of her, despite his pulls and crazy hoof motions.

“A whorse, huh!” yells Trixie furiously, grunting when she pulls tighter on him, eliciting a crunching noise and raspy wheeze from him. “Call me a whorse again, asshole! I dare you!”

She pulls harder and he jerks, hoof now stretched out towards the ceiling and eyes widening from the agony of his voice box being crushed while the other tries feebly to get the rope off of him.

Trixie keeps a hold on him, grunting and straining her weak muscles to near snapping point, and then he goes limp. Every noise, every raspy breath falls silent and his whole body feels like a two hundred pound package of wet noodles.

Trixie stares at the wooden ceiling, sweating and breathing heavily, and when some of his blood drips on her face, she spits and sputters and pushes him off. He lands with a thump and Trixie almost jumps out of her skin when she sees his chest barely rise and fall.

She watches him for a few more seconds, waiting to see if he'll try pouncing on her again, but when it becomes clear that he won't be getting up for some time, she crawls to the broken glass and starts sawing at the rope. It takes her a few minutes, but with that time and a few cuts, she is free  and is able to get the other rope off using a creative combination of hoof and mouth-work. After that is said and done, she slides over to the front of the vehicle, being sure to stay as low as possible.

Once Trixie is upfront, she opens up the compartment box and squeals for joy seeing the horn cuff key tucked safely inside. She is quick to grab it and uses the door mirror to clumsily guide the key to the lock. She really hates using her hooves for pretty much anything but walking, and using the key is the prime example.

It takes Trixie way longer than a few seconds to get the cuff off of her head, and every time she drops the key, she looks to see if Buzz Cut is still out or if Fox Trot is returning with new gems. Luckily for her, both stallions are unable to get her, and when she pops the cuff off with a satisfying click, she quietly cheers and hops out of the vehicle.

After jumping out, Trixie quickly realizes that she is at the very edge of the parking lot in a place that is planted smack dab in the middle of a prairie with nothing to see for miles on end. Trixie swears and brushes her mane away, wincing quietly from the burning feeling of the cuts she accumulated in her escape, and spots a line of mini-trains carrying large trailers. She smiles with relief and starts running towards them, hoping she can find someone to take her far, far away so she can get out of this mess, and as she runs, she looks at the stop shop.

Trixie barely sees Fox Trot skimming the power gems in the overstocked store with his back to the window, and she grins from the excitement racing through her veins and puttin gher heart in overdrive. She will make it! She is sure of it!

Trixie turns the corner to the trucks and hides behind a mini-train carrying a large trailer that has Sweet Apple Acres Cider written in pseudo-cursive writing with red letters. Panting and shaking from adrenaline, Trixie peeks her head around the corner to see if Fox Trot has left the store yet. Thankfully he hasn't, which makes Trixie all the more hopeful that she will get out. In fact, the only thing she really sees is a stubby wagon with an elongated back, and she continues watching it until it disappears behind the station.

Once the vehicle is out of view Trixie hides herself again, racking her brain for ideas of how to escape. She thinks about asking one of the drivers, but she can't walk into the store and ask, and if Fox Trot comes out before any driver then he will go looking for her, and more than likely want to beat her to a pulp.

As the minutes tick by, Trixie becomes more anxious. She knows that she can't stay very much longer and venturing into the prairie without supplies is suicide. Not knowing what else to do but check to see if Fox Trot is out yet, Trixie peeks around the large vehicle and spots a unicorn with a brown coat and black mane trotting coolly towards the wagon Buzz Cut is in. From the looks of it, the mare has just appeared out of the blue, and she also looks to be very young and slender, and sipping a smoothie innocently nonetheless. She will be an easy target for the likes of Buzz Cut and Fox Trot if they make a move against her. Or, more likely Fox Trot because Trixie already knocked him out after beating him up twice, so she knows that pervert is anything but good at his job.

Trixie extends her hoof and is about to shout to the young mare, but pauses when she sees the newcomer's horn glow and a chunk of the asphalt break apart from the stones coming out from underneath it. Then to Trixie's surprise, the summoned stones turn into a semi-liquid state that soon molds into a sleek blade. That kind of magic is not normal, that much Trixie knows, and her pupils shrink and the worst comes to mind when she sees the twisted smile cross the mare's lips.

When the mare is by the vehicle, she taps on the window a couple of times, peers inside, then shrugs, opens it up and casually plunges her crude knife into Buzz Cut's neck.

Trixie puts her hoof to her mouth, short of breath and whole body trembling as she watches the mare twist the knife and tilt Buzz Cut's head down. When the dead pony's head is as far as it can go, the killer pats his cheek, closes the door and starts a thorough inspection of the vehicle.

Trixie watches with morbid fascination as the mare searches Buzz Cut's mini-train, and as the killer searches with great speed, she wonders what the brown unicorn is looking for while simultaneously being glad she left when she did. However, when the killer looks like she is going to turn in her direction, Trixie slams herself against the truck, as much out of sight as she can possibly be with her teeth gripping her hoof an tears in her eyes.

“Oh goddess. Oh goddess. Oh goddess,” whimpers Trixie.

She jumps with a yelp when a hoof taps her shoulder, and the stallion that touched her also jumps back. He is an orange earth pony with a rough brown mane, chunky and dressed in flannel with a large ball-cap for Sweet Apple Acres Cider.

“Hey, you okay?” asks the stallion with a rural accent.

Trixie tilts her head past the truck. “Do you see anypony out there?”

The stallion leans over, and after a few seconds of scanning he shakes his head and looks back at Trixie. “No. Is there somepony giving you crap? Because if that's the case then I can round up some of my buddies and teach them a thing or two.”

Trixie shakes her head quickly, partially relieved that the murderous mare is out of sight, but also cautious about the stallion.

“Ma'am?” says the stallion as he carefully walks steps towards her.

Trixie looks back at the mini-train where Buzz Cut currently lies, then looks back at the stallion. She needs to get out and before Fox Trot finds out, or worse, the psycho-mare finds out she saw what she did and goes after her.

Swallowing her fear, Trixie grabs the stallion's shoulders and looks him square in the eyes.

“Get me out of here as fast as you can!” orders Trixie, her voice still shaking from the terror gripping her.

The stallion blinks. “Uh...”

“NOW!”

“Okay! Okay! Just hop in and-”

Trixie doesn't wait for him to finish or unlock the passenger door. As soon as he unlocks the driver side door and opens up, she climbs inside, trying to stay as low as possible and shrinks further in the seat when the driver closes the door. Without sitting up, she bangs on the dashboard as hard and fast as she can.

“Drive! Drive! Drive! And don't look back, got it!”

The driver nods with dinner plate sized eyes and puts the throttle to full as he speeds out of the parking lot as fast as his behemoth of a vehicle can go, emitting a loud squeal and a trail of burnt rubber with white smoke in his wake. When he turns in the road Trixie's body hits the door, and she grunts from the uncomfortable feeling, and yelps when the driver straightens out, causing her to fall on his lap.

Trixie spews out an incoherent sentence that sounds vaguely like an apology as she sloppily pushes herself up, pressing her hoof against his legs and groin and sitting up straight as can be while the driver leans forward, biting back a groan and tears. However, Trixie doesn't see the pain she caused since she is too busy looking out the window to see if they are being followed.

“Crazy mares,” grunts the driver to himself as he rubs his lower body. Then he looks at Trixie, trying to contain his annoyance from the spooked mare. “Where to, miss?”

“Anywhere but here,” says Trixie hastily. “And make it quick, too.”

The driver sighs and increases the speed, and Trixie slumps in her seat and rubs her eyes as she groans in disbelief of how bad her luck has been.

“I hate my life,” she says to herself.

=====0=====

Unnecessarily loud Arabic type music plays in the rest stop store as Fox Trot waits in the slow line with a box of fresh power gems in front of him. To make the wait worse, it seems like every customer wants a pack of cigarettes, a dozen lottery tickets or both on top of the coal the are purchasing, and the incompetence of the Saddle Arabian's skill with the register added in makes this experience well below the pleasant mark. With the loud music and equally loud cashier thanking his customers, Fox Trot can barely hear himself think, much less hear the door bell dingle.

Not really curious, but more out of giving his eyes something to do, Fox Trot turns his head and notices a gorgeous unicorn mare who has got to be at least eighteen strolling in and sipping a smoothie that she is holding in her magic aura. She has a black mane that shines beautifully in the light and it is combed flat to cover her left eye slightly. There are black spots around her eyes and muzzle that share the same color as her mane, and her brown coat is no doubt well groomed. As she walks towards the end of the line, Fox Trot notices that on her toned flank is a cutie mark in the shape of a rock.

He pities her for her horrible fate, but he doesn't realize that the mare has stopped and the he has been staring at her flank for a long period of time until she clears her throat. Fox Trot blinks and looks up to see the very unimpressed frown the mare is giving him, still slurping on her smoothie nonetheless. Fox Trot is quick to offer an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to stare,” says Fox Trot.

The mare's glare softens to sadness, and she pulls away from her smoothie and looks at the tile.

“That's okay. You were probably looking at my cutie mark and thinking about how stupid it is. Everypony does it,” she says.

“No no! I don't it's stupid. It's special and you should be proud of it. Besides, I should not have been looking there in the first place because if my wife walked in and saw me looking at your flank she would skin me alive,” says Fox Trot.

Fox Trot chuckles uneasily and rubs the back of his neck as he awkwardly moves up with the line. The young mare laughs lightly with him and uses her magic to grab some kerosine oil from a shelf, and when Fox Trot gives her a questionable look, she smiles sweetly.

“Kerosine is a great starter in case gems don't work,” says the mare.

“Really?” asks Fox Trot, surprised by this.

The mare nods. “Yeah, but it is only temporary. If you need a quick fix then kerosine works, but you need gems in the long run.”

Fox Trot nods and looks out the window to try to see Buzz Cut and the vehicle. He can't see much, but from what little he can see it looks like Buzz Cut is resting his head against the window. More than likely resting his eyes to get some energy for the long trip and to alleviate some of his boredom.

“My name is Terra Shock. What's yours?” says the mare.

Fox Trot looks at her for a second before stepping forward in line. “Fox Trot.”

Terra nods and takes a sip of her smoothie. The sound of air and straw scraping against the bottom for the remnants of her drink is like nails on a chalkboard for Fox Trot, but he doesn't want to be rude so he averts his eyes to the cashier to hide his grimace and wishing that the immigrant would drop the conversation he is having with another Saddle Arabian. They are both obnoxious and he has no idea what they are saying since they are using their national language.

“Royal Guard?”

“Ten years in the Navy,” says Fox Trot quickly.

Silence comes between them and the conversation between the two Saddle Arabians ends with a farewell wave. Fox Trot sighs with relief and is about to approach the counter when-

“Do you think I'm pretty?” asks Terra suddenly.

“What?” Fox Trot looks back at the mare, frozen and now getting uncomfortable, and when she asks again, he hums, not really sure if he should answer that. After a quick scan, he looks back at the mare and shrugs. “Yeah, you're pretty, but I'm married so I'm not interested in courting you.”

“Oh. How about ponynapping me, then?”

Fox Trot's heart stops and the last thing he sees before getting knocked out cold is a hoof to his face.

oooOOOooo

Terra exhales and brushes her mane out of her eye, only for it to fall back in place and when she looks up, she is greeted with half a dozen shocked looks. Including the dropped jaw from the clerk. She looks around, hums to herself and coolly pulls out a Royal Guard badge from her saddle.

“It's okay, ladies and gentlecolts. Royal Guard business. Go about your daily lives and pretend you didn't see any of this,” says Terra as she holds up the badge for all to see. She uses her magic to levitate the now limp Fox Trot and her kerosine behind her and to open the door, and as she backs out her eyes narrow and she points at the clerk and the few patrons. “Or else.”

The group nods quickly and murmurs their acknowledgments, and Terra smiles and backs away with Fox Trot and the kerosine still in her magical grip. Once outside she kicks the door shut and carries the unconscious stallion towards the side of the building facing away from the roads. She walks towards a mini-train that is parked a dozen yards away and when she is a few paces from it, the back opens up to reveal a brown earth pony stallion in his late fifties or early sixties that holds a strong resemblance to Terra. His mane was once black like hers, but is now fading to gray, just like his long tail, and he has spots of black around his eyes and muzzle. The older stallion is also wearing a fedora and a dark suit underneath his brown overcoat.

“This guy was too easy, Uncle Muffin!” says Terra lightly.

Uncle Muffin, a.k.a. Gray Muffin, barely gives Terra a glance before he puts his focus on the knocked out pony.

“That's one,” he says.

“And the last,” says Terra as she heaves Fox Trot in the back, carelessly using her magic to slide him across the floor and throw her kerosine on top of him like the garbage she knows he is. Though when she realizes that her uncle is giving her a questionable look, she adds with a smile: “The other guy is dead.”

“Dead?”

Terra nods. “Yeah, somepony knocked him out, but I still stabbed him in the neck since I didn't want to carry him across the parking lot.”

Gray Muffin stares at Terra, and when she shrugs nonchalantly he looks at the mini-train the two criminals arrived in. He can barely see Buzz Cut slumped over, but after squinting his wrinkly eyes, he can see the red staining his chest. With that visual he frowns and looks at Terra again.

“There was supposed to be a mare with them. Where is she?” says Gray Muffin.

“She probably got away since there was broken rope and a horn cuff on the floor,” says Terra, her voice as careless as her demeanor, and when Gray Muffin lets out a very loud, annoyed sigh, she scowls. “What?”

“We're going to need to have a talk with your father later.”

“Why!” whines Terra.

“You know why, now get in your seat. We still have a lot of work to do.”

Terra huffs and clambers on inside, grumbling: “Stupid old coot.”

Gray Muffin rolls his eyes and slams his door shut.

=====0=====

It has been a few hours since they left the rest station, and Trixie is fidgeting and constantly looking at the mirror to see if she is being trailed by any suspicious vehicles, but so far all that has passed is a few blocky, wooden vehicle with chubby boiler engines and a mile long classic train hauling coal and gems to whatever its destination is. The road trip with the storm clouds would actually make a relaxing combination if she didn't nearly escape a slave trade with her life and witness the murder of one of her kidnappers.

“Look, I know I sound like a broken record, but you are clearly spooked about something and if you let me take you to Ponyville then my boss might be able to help you with whatever mess you're in. She's got a nice list of contacts and is one of the sweetest mares I know. Very dependable, too, so I know she can help you,” says the driver.

Trixie shakes her head. The last thing she wants to do is go back to the place that destroyed her life and see Twilight with all her fame and glory. It makes her sick just thinking about Celestia's star pupil, but rather than wasting energy about it, she pushes it aside to think about a place where no one will recognize her in case the murdering unicorn goes after her.

“Just take me to the next truck stop,” says Trixie, her voice tired and shaken. She sniffles and wipes her eyes and nose of tears and snot as she looks out the mirror, glad to see the rest stop is out of sight. “I'll find my own way from there.”

The driver sighs and nods. “Okay. But if you ever find yourself in Ponyville, come find me. The name is Wheelie Tirehub and I work at the Sweet Apple Acres warehouse.”

Trixie nods, quietly saying: “Okay.”

“I didn't catch your name.”

Trixie glances at Wheelie out of the corner of her eye, hesitant to give him her name, but when he asks again she sighs and keeps her eyes on the passing flatland. “My name is Trixie Lulamoon. Maybe you've heard of me?”

Wheelie thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “Nope, can't say that I have. Are you some kind of celebrity or something?”

Trixie blinks tears out of her eyes and rests her head against the window. “No. I never was anypony special. Just forget I asked.”

Wheelie sounds like he wants to say something, but goes back on it and puts his focus on the barren road, and Trixie closes her eyes, wondering what Hell will follow her now.