Laughing

A pony of pink coat stands head cocked, black top hat still some how perched upon her head, smile spreading across her blood caked face observing her wonderful art. It was lovely just like he said it would be. Just so lovely a beauty indeed plus it was a way to help east all the stress she has built up.. She feels a hand lay across her back and rub there as a male laughs the entire time. A laugh, light and soft, that others would consider sinister but to her it sounds just like a regular laugh. A laugh of merriment. A regular old Smiling laugh. That's why she laughs along, enjoying the time spent with her friend.

Maybe it was the excitement that dulled her senses but it didn't really matter. The door behind her opens showing more light into the dim room. The glorious light made the canvas look all the much more prettier.

"What's with all the laugh."

A clatter. A pan, a plate, or perhaps some time of utensil. It didn't really matter to her; Nor did it matter to her friend who has always said time after time to make sure to leave fear into at least one person to make things interesting. She turns around her blood caked face sprawled into a smile; her friend laughing even harder as she stands up and lays a hoof on the white coated Caracas beside lifting up one of the other creature's leg and waving it at the poor victim before them.

"Well hello there Mommy! I invited some friends over."

The other screams in horror and sadness. A sound that both monsters, as Pinkie's friend sometimes refers them as, applaud at.

"Best one we've heard so far isn't it Smiling Pink!" He says in a light tone laughing afterwards as he always does. Cause it's always funny. Everything is funny and that's how it should always be. If one was not laughing and smiling at everything than what would be the point of having ones around like them he often says.

"Sure is!" She replies walking on two legs up to the smaller pony in front of her.

The other, older pony cowers in fear at the scene before it. Urine runs down it's legs like a foal waking from a nightmare. It's eyes are shut tight trying to make what the horror before her seem unreal, not there at all, or maybe just a bad dream. A feeling on his shoulder insures that it's far from that. It guesses that the feeling could be that of her loving son. She dares opens her eyes to come face to face with her eyeless tongue-less son. The colt's jaw works up and down.

'You okay mommy?"

A blood curtailing scream with two wicked laughs fill the air before settling to just laughter. As it always does.

Tapes set off the scene. The mare in the house has already been taken care of and the body has been put away. They are saying that's insanity that drove her to this. Other's are saying it's just how sick murderers work. There could be something more behind it if I think it over, but than again they don't pay me much to think.

Looking over the wounds, if they can be considered that, it's easy to tell that this child was mutilated. It's hard to say that a mother would do this to her son. Stuff like this always makes me ask questions. Which is the hardest part of my job.

I shake my head and leave the house making sure I didn't track any blood as I did so and stop in the kitchen. A note hangs on the wall with a knife in through it. A knife I recall never being there nor the note. Curiosity peeked I take a chance and take the note from the wall and hold onto the small kitchen knife just in case. It doesn't even have that many words. Just three lines of pop goes the weasel. I shrug and take the cap from a top my head and place it in it. After all this could be great clue, but not very likely.

I walk out of the house and feel a very weird sense of uneasiness. I brush it off sense I always feel like this leaving a crime scene. I pull out my tape recorder from out of the bag around my neck..

"Today is Ponyaury Tuesday afternoon. My precise time around 2:00 P.M. A woman the name of Bubblegum Sweetheart was arrested for the brutal murder of her son. The victim was cut down his belly, intestines pulled out and slung around his neck like a noose which he hung from, also his belly seemed to be filled with different type of insects already feeding on him.

We can roughly say that he's been dead for, let's say, ten hours or so. We're going to have doctors and examiners examine the body to see. I have to say though the stench coming from it says enough to me though.

Also on a note I found a note inside the kitchen with a knife through it on the kitchen wall. Though I don't remember it being there before when I first entered, I read it and it's just a regular nursery rhyme mother reads to their foals. I consider it a clue for now but something doesn't seem right at all about this. Even now as I relook over it; it seems that the tune wants to play off key in my head. Almost like."

I release the grip on the record button and turn around hearing the music getting louder and louder. I've seemed to walk quite a bit away from the house as I tend to do most the crime scenes when I record. It's to help make sure there is no interference with the sound, but now... now there is music of pop goes the weasel  nearby almost directly behind me. But... but that seems wrong. That's the way back to the crime scene so there's no reason the police ponies would be partying at the crime scene, though I've seen worse, and even if they do than on what occasion? Perhaps they are all cahoots with the murder. It wouldn't be the first time...

I sigh and shake my head bring my solemn mood back to the top to cover my investigation like personality. After all it's my special talent. Emotions and covers. That's what they said made me a great for this type of job. I can control emotions well and I have more cover stories than I can count,or even remember.

Maybe I'm just working to hard. Lemon Slush says I do, but he's still working from seven to eleven each day. As I walk away from the sight, seeing Ponyville in the small distance, leaving the music, that I had forgetten about; that seemed to have stopped, and make my way home.

{Day 1}

I throw water across my face to take the grogginess out of me. Only three hours of sleep, but I still need to be ready for the day. I shake my head my wet black mane spraying water across the mirror; along with the rest of my brown coat. Drying the water out my eyes I begin to dry the mirror off when something catches my eye. A droplet seems to be running down in a particular way while the others stand still. After watching its  pattern I back up to observe the mirror.

It almost resembles a smiling face. Almost. I dry the mirror off ignoring the particular event and head downstairs where my hat lays on wooden table of the kitchen as well as the tape recorder and many jotted down notes. I glance over the jumbled up notes before going to the fridge and taking out a wrapped up plate as usual. There is a note on top of it from Lemon Slush that reads: "What would you do with out me?"

"The answer to that is starve." I say with a light chuckle of mine.

The words and chuckle echoes through the home I reside in. It's a lonely home. An empty home. Almost as barren as Celestia. Nobody other than myself and mother have lived in this house. Mother has passed sometimes ago so that has left me on my own. I do gain money but I've never sought after material things like others. My mother always reminded me that I should only buy things that I really need. So far I've only bought paper, pens, pencil, etc. for work. Food never crosses my mind when shopping.

I undo the wrapping to find a nice plate of beans, hay frays, and my favorite strawghetti. I throw the plate into the microwave someone had given to me as a congratulation present. It might be old as hell but it gets the job done as always. Just like me. Getting older by the minute yet I still try to get the job down.

With the food warming I roam in the living room, in front of the kitchen, and turn on the medium box T.V. The news is the first thing on as always. The caster is still talking about the scene and how the woman is mentally unstable and being rehabilitated. I scoff and wonder what people would say if she wasn't crazy. Anyone can plead craziness, but she didn't. That's what makes me wonder... as always.

A knock comes across the door pulling me out of my stupor. Since the house is small I don't have to worry about walking a bunch to get to place to place. I walk more than four hoof steps and open the door to be greeted by a pink puffy manned pony; a great friend of Lemon.

"Hey Pinks." I say turning to return to the now beeping microwave, "Did Lemon send you up here?"

"No, just thought I'd come check on how ya doing!" Pinkie says hopping into the room without a care, "Figured you might be on the case for something like what's on the news."

"Not officially, but I'm still looking into it. After all somepony might of missed out on something." I say after taking the plate of piping food to the wooden table with a cozy in my mouth, "Ah~ Who knows somepony might be a murderer."

"Maybe." Pinkie says shrugging her shoulders and hopping over beside me, "Did Lemon make that?"

"Yep! I can't get enough of her cooking! I'm pretty sure if I was to live with her I would be fat and out of shape for this kind of job." I say grabbing a fork from the bowl of utensils at the middle of the table.

"Sure does look yummy! Maybe I'll stop by hers later on tonight."

"Becarefull thought there might be a murderer about."

"Oh you don't have to worry about me silly!" Pinkie says laughing and snorting a bit, "Oh yea! Before I forget!"

She hands me a note folded into a triangle, "Somepony handed me this and asked me to deliver it. Don't know what it says, but he said it's important!"

"hanks pink." I say through a mouthful of food.

I take the note and open it slowly to make sure I don't rip anything.

Who's next?

I swallow my food, "Who gave you this?"

I look at Pinkie who is no longer there. I didn't even hear a door close or open. I don't want to say she raises my suspicions but. I look at my food with a fork laying across it.  All of a sudden I don't feel as hungry.

{NIght 2}

Lemon walks through her home night gown covering her slim body even illuminating her light yellow body. She looks out window of the bottom floor towards the house of her friend. She levitates a pealed orange next to her covered in her orange hue; the same color as her eyes. She misses him. She can't help it.

Her thoughts are always of worry about him whether he is eating or not. or getting enough sleep in. He never complains about anything only when it's mentioned so nobody knows when he's suffering. He's one of the people where you have to pay close attention to in order to know how they feel. That's why she has always been on close terms with him. She wants him to feel good inside and out.

She sighs and returns to watching her sweet little child playing with her toys. Truly she's her pride and joy. She makes her life feel so complete yet incomplete. She always feels as if something is missing yet she can't point it out. Maybe it's a stallion. She would never really guess.

Just like events. She would've of never guessed the music, the laughter, and the blood that night. Never would have just like everypony else. But, she enjoyed part of her night while she did. Wishing luck upon all those under luna's glorious moon forevermore. Including herself and her daughter. She guesses that Luna's grace didn't befall on them.