Disturbances

Disturbances

“Hello.”

The room around me, so cold, so bitter.

“I was wondering if you received my letter from Ponyville.”

The ponies, so dry, so narrow.

“I sent you it a week ago, and I was waiting patiently for a response.”

The mares are always getting on my nerves.

“Can you tell me if…?”

If only they knew that I was the one they were speaking to.

“Yes, I did receive your letter,” I respond. “It’s the one with the missing husband right?”

The mare in front of me, a bit short for the likes of it; but from the looks of it, she’s a sweetheart. “Yes!” the mare exclaims. “I just hope you can find him!”

“Well,” I say, scratching my chin with my hand. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Thank you!” the mare exclaims cheerfully, her mane suddenly poofing up. “He’s one of a kind!”

If he was one of a kind, he wouldn’t be so hard to find.

“I bet he is…” I say, my tone of voice depicting my utter excitement.

Time to get to business.

“So,” I say, attracting the mare’s attention immediately. “Your letter didn’t explain much about your husband, nor about the situation except the fact that he is missing.” I move my hands from my chin, placing them on the desk in front of me. “Do you have any other information that could help with my search?”

The mare in front of me shivers a bit, her hair deflating suddenly. How in the hell does she do that? In a depressed tone, the mare sighs and says, “Not really. All I know is that he was at work, doing a project with a few other ponies from Manehatten.”

While she spoke, I grabbed out the good old pen from my days as a secretary of the Princess, who really loves to distribute pens to her loyal human subjects. Unfortunately, the pen wasn’t enough for me to stay on the job. My hands turned to paste after working as her secretary for three weeks. That job was a nightmare.

Luckily, I gained the job of being an investigator after the last one abandoned ship and hauled all their things to a storage unit in Canterlot, never to be seen again. I don’t know why the investigator left so quickly, but I will probably never have to worry again. After all, I have more important matters on my hands, like this mare’s case.

As I grab the paper from the drawer underneath my desk, I write down the tidbit of notes that I gain from her.

Last seen at work

Project for a few ponies in Manehatten

After writing the notes down, I look back at the mare in front of me, her face still having issues as to whether be sad, or extremely happy.

“Miss?”

The mare suddenly jumps, skyrocketing up to the ceiling. Since gravity still exists on Earth, she quickly falls back to the floor, her rump hitting the tile floor first.

“You okay, Miss?”

The mare groans a bit, rubbing her behind with her back hoof. “Yeah, I’m sorry. You scared me.”

“Well,” I pause, carefully coming up with my response. “Be a bit more careful.” I look around the room for a seat for her to sit in. Pony seats are very hard to come by, because they look so awkward.I mean, they can sit in a human-type chair, but they can’t sit still for more than ten minutes before they start wanting to murder the creator of such a seating device. The pony design is much more comfortable for the user, almost like a couch for a human. They’re slightly more expensive, but businesses are required to accommodate the ponies under the Act of Equine Rights, allowing them the same rights as a human under the Bill of Rights. I’m still confused on that whole matter, they could’ve simply edited it and kept the Bill of Rights as one unified document, but the government was being really lazy. Eh.

Anyway, I find the pony seat I have in stock and bring it over for the mare to sit in. She looks over at me, then back at the seat. She repeats this looking session for about a few minutes, before asking the very obvious question that every pony asks, “Do you want me to sit on this?”

“No,” I reply sarcastically. “I want you to marvel at the masterpiece that lies in front of you.”

The pony turns her attention to the seat, her eyes honing in on the seat like a man who is about to throw a dart at a target. After a minute of seeing this pony taking my words seriously, I laugh and say, “I didn’t think you would take me seriously.”

The pony looks back at me and grumbles, “That was mean.”

I stop my guaffing and look down at the pony before me. “I’m sorry, I apologize,” I start. “Very unprofessional of me.”

The mare smiles and says, “It’s okay!”

I smile back and point at the seat in front of her. “Have a seat.”

She nods and sits down on the seat. She shifts a bit, attempting to get comfortable in the chair.

I sit down as well, my bottom impacting the seat, making it squeak loudly. “Getting back to business, I’d like to know where your husband works at,” I announce, grabbing the pen and paper so I can jot down some more notes.

“Well, he works at an old mine outside of town,” she says, her voice rather saddened. “He always talks about how the mine needed repairs, and how his human friend would always tell him that no one would buy it until he repairs it.”

I raise an eyebrow at this. “Human friend?”

She nods. “He never mentioned his name before, but I’ve seen him a couple of times by our house.”

“Which is…?”

“Located in Ponyville of course! It’s called Sugarcube Corner!” she fires back with sudden excitement.

“You named your house?” I ask, wondering who in the right mind would name their house after a sugarcube.

“No, silly!” the pony replies. “It’s the business that Mr. and Mrs. Cake owns! I’m just their baker and impromptu cashier!”

I scratch my chin once again. Wait.

“But I thought you sai-”

“Yep!”

“Hmm…”  I say while rubbing my chin.

“So,” I say, pointing my pointer finger straight up. “Why does the mine need to be repaired?”

The mare looks at me with a puzzled look. “Because it’s old.”

No shit.

“Let me rephrase that,” I reply, trying to come up with a better question. Once I get the correct question, I ask, “Did your husband ever tell you why the ponies were there?”

She pauses and looks down at the ground, her muzzle scrunched up. “Well…” she says, attempting to figure out what she was going to say.

“I think he said they were there for a project, but it wasn’t dealing with the repairs.”

“Well, let me ask you a better question,” I state, facepalming mentally due to my stupidity. “Who were these ponies?”

She sighs, looking back up at me with a blank face.

“They went by the name of Baxter Company.”

Baxter Company sounds oddly familiar.

“Isn’t Baxter’s headquarters located in Canterlot?”

The pony in front of me shrugs and says, “I don’t know.”

Better check that on Google.

Scribbling down more of the notes that she told me, I began to imagine what these ponies looked like: tall, buff, earth ponies with shirts that say, “Baxter Company: Don’t fuck with us”. I begin to chuckle a bit while the pony gazes up at me, worried.

“Did I say something funny?” she asks.

“No ma’am,” I reply, still holding in my laughter. “I just thought of something hilarious that you probably would not understand.”

The pony sighs and shakes her head. Probably disappointed with my maturity.

I let out a powerful huff, almost blowing one of my pens off my desk. Luckily, the mare in front of me is agile and stops the pen with her hoof, the two coming in contact with each other with a loud resounding smack.

“Nice reflexes,” I say.

She smiles and politely responds, “Thank you.”

“Well,” I announce. “Let’s continue, shall we?”

The mare nods, still focusing on me with intent.

“Where did this whole event take place?”

“Right outside the mine,” she responds back. I raise an eyebrow at this. “What? He does business deals right outside because he hates being indoors for business measures.”

“But isn’t that dangerous?” I ask. “I mean, even drug cartel users know that if you’re in the drug trade and you’re doing the deal outside, the chances of them surviving is slim without their own men backing them up.”

She pauses and scrunches up her muzzle once again. “Well, that’s true, but Equestria doesn’t have guns.”

Magic is even more powerful though…

“Well, it sounds like he could’ve been taken by Baxter Company.”

The mare gasps loudly. “They wouldn’t do that!”

“How do you know?” I question.

She sighs and leans back in her seat. “Well, Baxter Company has a high reputation in Equestria as a whole. If they ponynapped someone such as my husband, people and ponies alike would hear about it. After all, Baxter Company is funded by the Equestrian Treasury.”

What.

“How does a privately owned business like Baxter get funds straight from the Equestrian Wheel of Fortune?”

The mare giggles at my reference. “Well, Baxter is owned by an Equestrian High Noble, and…” she explains, her voice trailing off. “In Equestria, when a High Noble owns a corporation, they can ask the Princess for funds from the Treasury in case they are in a tight situation.”

Tight situation?

“Care to elaborate?” I ask, my arms starting to become tired.

“In other words, when they’re in debt.”

Debt? You mean…

“Well, that brought up a huge question.”

“Hmm?"

“Well,” I say, nonchalantly leaning back in my chair. “Why the heck would they go to your husband then if they’re in debt?”

“Well, they might’ve been subsidized if they needed money to buy something important for them to stay afloat,” she replies, her left forehoof tapping her chin.

“True…” I say quietly, agreeing with her. “Hmm, well I think that answers the questions I needed to be answered!” I announce, getting up from behind my desk to approach the pony on the other side. “Thank you for answering them! Your information will help in your investigation!”

The mare smiles, her hair becoming poofy once again. “No problem, sir?”

“Rochester,” I say, holding out my hand to shake with the pony.

The pony in front of me sees my hand and smiles, holding her hoof out to shake. I grab her leg and shake, showing that the investigation can begin. “Pinkie Pie,” she says, her voice unwavering. “I hope you find him soon, I need to bake him a cake for his birthday!”

“Don’t worry, Pinkie!” I announce with defiance. “I’ll find him for you, and hopefully figure out who did the deed.”

The mare smiles, throwing her front hooves in the air. “Yay!” She looks back up at me and says, “See you later, Rochester!” With a start, the mare bolts out the building without a second to spare.

“See you,” I say. She probably didn’t hear me.

With a sigh, I decide to get turn back to my desk and get started on this new case.

To Google!