Breaking Bad

The RV rolled through the Badlands like a Hellhound loose from Tartarus, the dry dust permeating the air behind it as it sped along the desert road, the unfortunate pair of pants previously hanging from the rear view mirror being flung off and into the deadly wake behind it. The vehicle took a sudden right turn as it seemed it would topple over, before flying off deeper into the desert in a new direction. The RV jumped up and down with every bump in the road, causing the driver to slightly stand up on his hind legs awkwardly in order to better improve his driving. Breathing heavily through his gas mask, the stallion took a risky glance toward the interior of his vehicle.

Dead in the back, nestled closely next to each other on the ground, were two Unicorns, their bodies sliding idly around the RV as it careened through the desert, not having anything to keep them immobile. The glassware and the tools he had previously used were completely scattered throughout the RV, a large mess of red liquid sploshing around the bodies that were now soaked in it.

Looking back toward the road ahead, the stallion threw all of his weight to turn the steering wheel to the left so as to avoid an upcoming dead end, and almost sighed with relief when he came upon a straight road, before he heard the sounds of groaning emanating from elsewhere in the RV. Reaching his right hoof toward his hip, he cursed when he couldn't find the comforting surface of his seat belt. He had forgotten to strap himself in.

The stallion was just about to reach for the buckle when he realized that the Pegasus next to him had stirred. Looking at her, he found the mare laying unconsciously back in her seat, the gas mask over her face strapped so tightly the stallion could make out the white marks she would later wake up to on her features. He took a quick glance to assure that she was strapped in, before he looked back toward the road and concentrated on driving.

It wasn't long before the poisoned air, combined with his labored breathing, began to appear in his vision, the heavy condensation fogging up his mask's view-ports. He desperately raised a hoof to the front to wipe it off, the pounding in his ears drowning out every sound but his own heartbeat. Looking through a tiny crack in his vision, he found the RV swerving wildly left and right in the road, kicking up rocks and dust as it went.

As he found himself trying to regain his vision, look through what little he had left, and drive furiously, he tried to take a sharp left, only to hit a stray bush, swerve violently to the right, and suddenly dip into a small outcropping, where the windshield became completely blocked by red dust and shrubs, thwarting whatever view the stallion could have possibly seen.

The RV abruptly halted, sand ascending around the wreckage and quickly coating the entirety of its already dirtied white paint job.

The side door opened without a hitch, the runny red liquid following it like a sick puppy and spilling out onto the ground below. The stallion exited the vehicle in a hurry, coughing and wheezing as he attempted to breathe in fresh Equis air into his lungs. Desperately wrestling his gas mask off, he retrieved his glasses from within and unfolded them, before putting them on and looking towards the vehicle next to him.

Seeing its condition, lying bumper first and sunken in a ditch, he looked down with exasperation and hissed.

"Shit!" He turned on a hoof and chucked the gas mask a few yards into the distance, grinding both forehooves on his face and falling to his haunches. Hyperventilating, he slid his hooves onto the back of his neck, examining the landscape around him to calm his nerves.

The sound of sirens met his ears.

Looking around in a panicked frenzy, he trembled, thousands of worried thoughts coursing through his head at once, their relentless barrage only increasing the longer he heard the shrill sound coming from the desert. "Oh Faust, oh my Faust."

He stepped down toward the front of the RV, stepping in a large bush and scratching his already worn coat of fur. Reaching a hoof out to retrieve his pale green shirt, he suddenly retracted, looking wildly around for his pair of pants, before he groaned loudly and slipped his shirt on, taking care to button it up despite the circumstances.

Taking in a party of short gasps, he inflated his cheeks and held his breath, trotting quickly into the toxic interior of the RV. Turning to his left, he bent down and retrieved the gun still grasped in the green Unicorn's hoof, taking care to stuff it into a large hole in the back of his shirt. Rotating toward the dashboard, he trotted up next to the cyan mare slumped over the dashboard, sliding her body away from the compartment inside and pulling it open with a grunt of frustration.

Reaching his hoof inside, he retrieved a worn leather bit-bag and a video camera, and turned to exit the vehicle quickly. Stumbling back out into the fresh air, the sound of sirens pulsated through his head as he keeled over to wheeze in pain. Swiping his mouth with a sore hoof, he snapped to attention and stuffed his bit-bag into his shirt-pocket, reaching out to examine the video camera now in his hooves. Flipping out the side panel, he pressed the On switch, fell to his haunches, and breathed in a crumbled sigh, holding back tears. Waving a hoof over his head and shaking as if in a fever dream, he hit the Record button.

"...my name is Flam Crank White. I live at 308 Black Stream Lane, in the city of Appleloosa. To all Royal Guard squads and parties, this is not an admission of guilt. I am speaking to my... loving family now," he began, beginning to whimper, "Shim... you're the love of my life... I hope you know that. Flam Jr.... you're my big stallion. I want you to take care of your mother and your little sister while I'm gone. Listen, there are.." he stuttered, sighing in defeat, "there are going to be some things...things you'll come to learn about me in the next couple of days... I just want you to know, that no matter how it may look, I only had you in my heart. Things are going to...going to be hard...but just know that I only wanted what was best for my family."

Flam resisted the urge to wipe the stream of tears beginning to leak from his eyes, the thought of the family he would soon be leaving coming into his mind and invading the capital. Biting his lower lip, he concluded.

"Goodbye."

Slamming his hoof into the Record button, he wept, his head bobbing up and down with every sob he let escape his mouth. He would be leaving his family. He would be going to prison for what he had done. He would never be able to see his oldest son graduate from high school, he would never see his oldest son get married and have children....he would never see the birth of his foal, and would never be present for her entire life. The sirens drew closer, and Flam wiped his eyes for what he knew would be the last time as an innocent stallion. Placing both his bit-bag and the video camera on a nearby rock, he recomposed himself, before he retrieved the gun from the back of his shirt, inserting his hoof into the firing cuff and trotting slowly out from behind the RV.

Standing menacingly in the middle of the desert road, he raised his firearm toward the approaching police sirens.

"Step right up, step riiiiiight up mares and stallions, and be among the first to purchase a vial of the Flim Flam Brothers' Miracle Curative Tonic!"

The crowd that had formed was enough to exceed Flam's expectations; after all, their last visit hadn't ended so well in his and his brother's favor. They had to evade the Royal Guard's questioning for days before they ended up in Appleloosa, where they were forced to become the entertainment in the town's local bar. The crowd they garnered there wasn't anywhere near the amount that had gathered today. Though, as Flim had told him the night before, they had no other choice.

The large gathering of ponies reflected in Flam's eyes almost made his smile falter; their faces were of a pale green hue, their cheeks bulging and their behavior rather sluggish as a few ponies began to advance toward the brothers' concession stand, reaching into their saddlebags and retrieving a small hooful of bits. Placing it onto the stand, they were each given a small vial, which they promptly drank immediately. The vile taste caused them to gag before they wiped their mouths and continued off.

As his brother loaded the bits into their bit register, Flam saw that familiar glint in his eyes. He feigned a smile at their ill customers, but Flam saw right through his brother's well-rehearsed disguise. He gave the look of a swindler, a cheat, a liar who had just swindled his way into the life of luxury.

That is what they were, and that is what they would be.

"Flam, o' brother!"

The Unicorn tensed, suddenly throwing his train of thought down the canyon, "Uh, uh yes brother?"

Flim gave him a soft glare underneath his businesspony smile, "We need a few more vials, could you go into the tent and pick up a few crates? This lovely mare right here would like a couple." he replied, waving a hoof toward a gray Pegasus mare standing in front of him. She looked as if she were about to barf, and as Flam trotted through the tent flap, he believed that he heard the familiar sound of someone retching.

The interior of their tent was a far stretch from the simple stand they had in front of it. Large blueprints, wooden tables, and hundreds of assortments of barrels, crates, and bins were scattered throughout the large tent. Trotting through the candlelit room, he turned to his right and found a box of what his brother had labelled Tonic. Lighting his horn, he engulfed the wooden crate in a fiery green aura, turning tail and trotting out to face the loud music outside.

And loud it was. The crowd that had gathered in front of their stand must have doubled while Flam was inside. He was quickly able to confirm this with his brother's icy glare, turned away from their crowd and focused solely on him. Flim stared silent daggers at him, before he spoke through gritted teeth, "Come on out brother. I think our lovely customers have waited far too long for you to dilly-dally."

Flam groaned, audibly, to which his brother cleared his throat. Composing himself, Flam restarted, "Yes. Of course, my brother."

His older sibling gave him a quick, definitely fake smile, before he lit his horn and opened the crate, floating the vials inside up to their still paying customers. Flam took this time to relax, though little time he knew he would have. Standing in front of their encampment, Flam surveyed the gloomy atmosphere of Ponyville.

The clouds above seemed to be a dark green, the sky being a much darker tone of its precipitating cousin. Though it wasn't now, Flam had a feeling that the large collection of vapor wasn't there just for show. Looking toward the town, he saw what he almost believed to be an exact replica of a post-apocalyptic metropolis. The countless houses in Ponyville were boarded up, their doors, windows, and chimneys all nailed down with crude pieces of wood. His resolve almost broke down, looking at the infested remains of what his brother had called-

"A city epidemic, isn't that something o' brother?"

Flam looked toward his older twin, who gave him a wave over, "Come help me with these sells, if you wouldn't mind."

Yes. He would mind. They were swindling innocent, genuinely ill ponies.

"Of course, Flim. Give me a minute, it looks like we need more Tonic."

Flim raised an alarmed brow, before he bent over and looked in the stand's inner shelf. The almost empty container of glassware stared him back, "Ah, right you are brother. I swear, these ponies are going to sell us out at this rate, oh, nonono, I'm only joking ma'am. Here, have a Tonic.."

His brother's voice faded as Flam entered the tent once again, closing the tent flap silently and falling to his haunches. Shutting his eyes and looking toward his outstretched forelegs, he magicked the Tonic vials he had just hidden from his brother from behind a crate to his left, bringing one over to his hooves and putting the rest in an empty crate elsewhere.

He lifted the glass to his face, examining his reflection thoughtfully. As he sat there, looking idly at the vial in his hooves, he lit his horn, opening the left pocket on his striped shirt. He felt the warm metallic surface of his desired object, and brought it out into the candlelit light.

The pendant he was now holding in his magic found itself opened, and its owner gave a long sigh. Staring back at him was a paper image of a pale olive mare, a straw hat placed lazily over her red and white mane and a goofy expression plastered on her motionless face, aimed toward the stallion currently grasping her shelter in a shaky hoof. Flam sat there silently, looking consciously at the heart-shaped pendant that held the mare of his life.

"For you, Shim. I'm doing it for you," he said, looking down toward her image as he said this, "no matter the cost."

He paused for two heartbeats to look down upon her, before he clasped it tightly and replaced it in his pocket. As he did so, he held a free hoof over his mouth as he coughed loudly. Glancing back toward the vial, he almost jumped at what he saw. In his reflection, it appeared that he had shaved his mane entirely and grew out his mustache, letting it evolve into a full goatee that looked to completely envelope his mouth. Running a hoof over his head, he found relief as he felt his full head of hair at his touch, his mustache remaining in its regular state as well.

Turning toward the tent flap, he shook his head to ward the effect of his coughing fit, getting up from his haunches and trotting over to retrieve a container of Tonic on a wooden table. Swinging around, he took a single step to exit the tent.

He suddenly fell to the floor, smashing the vials of Tonic to the floor and shattering them upon impact, holding both hooves over his mouth as he felt his lung being hacked out of his inner body. Laying on his side like this, he continued to bark, all the while wondering why he was doing so at all. Flam turned over onto his back and threw his hooves outward, his eyes half-lidded and his breath going through a tiring labor just to supply the stallion with oxygen.

It wasn't long before Flim emerged from the outside, looking down at his brother and giving him a rare look of genuine concern, "Brother, are you alright in here?" He took one look at the scattered glass shards next to his brother and gave a sigh, "Adequate. That's about twenty-four vials down the drain. Be more careful next time, would you Flam? We have customers who are willing to pay for your formula, now c'mon."

Flim magicked another crate of Tonic and walked out with those words, leaving his brother to struggle to get up shakily to his hooves. As Flam wiped his mouth vigorously, he followed his brother back out into the humid air of Ponyville, only to be stopped in mid-step.

Flim had stopped walking, a rare thing of his these days. Flam peeked over his sibling's shoulder, and found a familiar group of mares in the front of the crowd, each holding a look of frustration, all except the yellow one, who was missing from the brothers' sights.

The orange Earth pony stepped forward menacingly, "And just what're you two doin' here again?"

She turned her head to the left and right, "And swindlin' these sick ponies of all things?"

Flim floated the crate of vials to his right, walking out to the stand and placing his elbow on it in an attempt at charisma, "Now now, young filly, we are simply selling my and my brother's curative formula to your town of sick patrons. It's honest business-"

"No it ain't. There's no way in Faust that gunk works."

"Ah, but it does young filly. Just look at some of your fellow Ponyvillians who've already drank some, they're looking spiffier and fitter already."

Looking over, it seemed that the mare realized they indeed were looking a lot better after downing a vial. She raised a hoof and snapped, "Ya know what? Mah Granny Smith has been sick with the Flu for weeks-"

"But of course! Bring her over here, she must be cured immediately! We can't have your little sister catch it now, can we?"

The mare shook her head slowly, before she parted the crowd behind her, revealing the slightly greener Granny Smith, her mane frazzled and her knees wobbly. When she saw the two stallions, she gave a glare that could rival Flim's, before she reached for a bit in her scarf, to which Flam shook a hoof, "Oh no ma'am," he started, lightly pushing her hoof back, "free of charge."

Flim, who was currently retrieving a vial and so did not hear, trotted back and gave the elderly pony a flask. She shut an eye and stared intently at her Tonic, swirling the purple liquid around with a hoof, before she suddenly downed it like a shot. As she gulped it down, her face fixed in one of disgust, the mare grit her teeth, looking around worriedly, and abruptly walked off without a hitch and a cough, leaving behind a shocked orange mare, whose face was locked into one of pure awe with her friends.

Flam raised a hoof to speak, but was cut off by his brother, who came up from behind him and called, "You saw it Ponyville! That's right, the Flim Flam Brothers' Miracle Curative Tonic really works!" This was met with a loud shout of approval from the sick inhabitants, who began to swarm the brothers' stand like bees to honey.

Flim, looking excitedly at his brother, waved at him and shouted above their customers, "More vials, brother of mine!"

He had that familiar glint in his eye.

Flam stood there silently, looking out over the crowd, before he raised his hoof over his mouth again to hack, causing his brother to look over at him again, "Brother?"

His vision swam, the ponies surrounding his stand becoming louder and echoing throughout his head, the stallion barely noticing that he was swaying about like a ship on rough seas, before he fell to the floor in a cold heap, unconscious.