Investigations in Ponyville

by Haphephobic EyeFudge

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Adventure
Length: 704

Being a detective isn't the best occupation in such a tame place like Ponyville. Hardly anyone dies from unknown or unnatural causes. At least today won't be the same.

This is the story of a mare Named Poison Leaf. She's a private detective in Ponyville. One day she recieves a letter from the local library. Thinking it's merely informing her of a book she's yet to bring in, she opens it and much to her surprise, it's a client.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-02 15:54:41 UTC

The Letter

There are many occupations to suit a life in Ponyville. A florist is one. So's a baker, cabbie or even a salespony. Being a detective? Not so good. It's far to hard to find any legitimate jobs. I mean, it's not the type of job you could even make work for. That's why there only is one private detective  in Ponyville. She is Poison Leaf. She lives in central Ponyville, in a three floored house, in the second floor. The other two floors are too worn out to even live in. The room is often surrounded by thin streams of  grey  smoke, due to Poison Leaf's addiction to smoking.

The walls of the room are painted a weak tea colour. Near the back of the room there is a desk with a pasta art picture laid upon it. Behind the desk there is an arched window.

On the large antique chair, behind the desk, sat a small earth pony. This is Poison Leaf.  She stared blankly at the pasta art laid infront of her, when sher heard the door. She shook off the ash clinging on the edge of the cigarette and slowly hopped off the chair. The mare had a bright lime coat with a deep orange mane, held up. The style in which it was held up was not visible,  due to the cream bowler hat sat upon her head. She was very short for an earth pony and the way she walked was very tired, as if she hadn't walked for a while and could barely hold her own weight. Her eyes were a sunken, pale blue and extremely bloodshot.  Her Cutie-Mark was a three leaved plant, a poisonous one,  no doubt. She used to garden as a hobbie, but stopped after causing several people a visit to the hospital.

She headed down a straight staircase, to the hall where the door was to find a blue Pegasus with a mouthful of letters. Poison Leaf spat the cigarette at the Pegusus' hooves and grabbed the letters from his mouth soon before slamming the door in his face. She walked back upstairs, trying her hardest to hold in the coughs, in case the letters were to go hurdling. She placed them upon the wooden desk and sat back down upon her cosy chair. Poison Leaf glanced at the three letters set in front of her. She noticed one had an eye catching purple seal. This particular letter caught her eye due to the fact it was familiar to her. It was from the library. Of course, she hadn't even left the house recently, let alone at the library.  Confused, she opened the letter using her mouth to tear the envelope and her hooves to keep it in place. At last, she pulled out the contents. A note.

'Dear, miss Poison Leaf,' Read the letter, 'It is to my knowledge that you are Ponyville's local detective. That said, I am sure you are glad to hear that I have some business for you. I'm sure you know the location of the Ponyville library, having you borrowed certain books a while ago. I hope to see you soon and see a detective at work as soon as you see fit. I assure you that you will be paid fairly for your deed.

My highest gratitude, Princess Twilight Sparkle'

The detective's heart jumped for joy having finished the letter. She hadn't had a client for the past few months. One thing she noticed, is the fact the writer never mentions the specifics of the job. Just that it's a job. What's more is that the writer hardly cared when she came.

But hell, the writer's a princess! They surely pay well! Then again, she's also a librarian and last time she checked, the librarian was a librarian. But honestly, it beats sitting about a smoke filled room all day, waiting for the last of her brain water to slowly ooze out through her eyes. Which didn't happen or anything.

So, neatly folding the letter back to it's original position, she ran down stairs and through the door, stepping on a whoopee cushion. She saw from a distance, the mail pony, intensely staring at her as he slowly walked away.