Need A Ride?

by DE_K

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Tragedy, Human, Dark
Length: 7849

What happens when you put an eager drug salesman into a world where the only drugs they have a good and used as medicine? An easily established and underground trafficking ring. Even if the things aren't illegal per sey in that world.

Walter has been running his little private business for a good few years now. He owns his own personal taxi cab and gives tourists a quick run. He's got all the loops covered and practice he needs, he's well prepared for anything, and he'll get you where he wants you to go in record time! But…but he never has any regulars. And he isn't on the grid. He won't ever be on the radar again either. Not after his most recent Customer…he likes his Clients better. But then you know, old habits are hard to kick.

Drugs Be Heavy In This One!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-05-10 01:30:08 UTC

Get In

Na-na, ta-ta, sha-sha.

Our palaver is well begun,

But sit down now,

Because it is far from done.

"Need a lift?" Walter called out his window as he pulled up to a man with an expensive looking suit with briefcase in tow who had flagged him down.

"Yes, thank you!" He answered sitting down, flattening out any creases that had formed as he sat, "You wouldn't believe how many other cabs have passed me." The man stated with annoyance, "I'm kind of in a rush now, heading to the Queen on business,  three other accountants are waiting for me so we can get to business. Wow, these windows are dark on the outside, but like crystal inside. These are the nicest limo tints I've ever seen." Kevin finished, impressed by the display.

"Thanks," Oh you have no idea, "they'd normally be illegal on this particular vehicle, but I know a guy and I'm the only cab in the area with these particular lenses so I'm easy to catch." Walter acknowledged the compliment, he didn't know anybody, he did it himself, "And the Queen Mary?" Walter thought out loud as he turned on his meter, it's use fee of two dollars blinking on screen, "The only royalty America will stand to blow its horn. Sure I can take you there. Name's Walter, and this is my own personal ride." That always strikes up a conversation. Usually long enough.

"Kevin, and this is your own? No boss? Just you driving strangers around on your own? But the gas must be costly, how much more is it for this ride?" Kevin asked as he began to worry for his funds.

"Don't worry about it Kevin, it's only a quarter every tenth of a mile, unless there's traffic. But I'm more than willing to negotiate." Walter finished with a knowing smile, "We'll get there on time." He finished as he revved the engine and drove off, their prolonged stillness congesting traffic behind them, But who cares? I take care of my Clients and Customers. "So where are you from? You don't seem like a local guy."

"Shreveport, Louisiana. Yes I know I'm a long way out, that's why I became a Big 4 accountant in the first place." Kevin answered with a sigh of contentment as he relaxed in the cab, "I needed to get out and away. Don't ask." He finished, not in a rude way but in a final way.

"Sure, sure anything you say Kev." But I will, I will ask about everything you know.

"Something funny?" The passenger asked through the open slide-divider between the driver and Customer.

"Yeah, nothing you'd get though, more of an inside joke between close friends." It wasn't.

"Oh, ok I get it. My pals and I go back too. We've got enough to just fit nearly every situation we just call out numbers now." Kevin finished with a nostalgic sigh.

"Really? That's something I'd like to see, it's talking in code is what it is."

"It's funny all right." An awkward silence fell upon them, Walter didn't mind but his counterpart was unused to such dead-ends. So after some aimless observing he saw the drivers certificate: Walter Padick; Height 5'10; Age 31 But that was it strangely enough, nothing really documentable, "Hey Padick, I noticed you don't have a GPS. You been here long enough for that kind of veteran move?"

"Trust me, I know how to get you where you need to go." Walter Padick curtly and...jokingly put. As if there was something clear Kevin was missing.

Kevin was starting to get a bit worried after seeing, or rather not seeing a proper license and his strange behavior, "Are-are you sure we're going the right way? Because it looks like we're going...going further inland."

Walter's expression did a complete 180 as he took in what was said, Damn it to Hell! This man is too nosey for his own good.

"Excuse me Walter but I asked you a question. Where are we going? And why can't I get a signal in the middle of the city?"

Might as well come clean, and with that thought he shut and locked the divider between them and pressed his intercom's button, relaying his voice to the back, "You are currently residing in the cab of Jack Mort, the hull is soundproofed and breaks any and all connections to satellites or towers, windows bullet-proofed, plates and license illegal, back door child locks enabled, and your chances of leaving this cab a hundred percent, but after that...ask again later."

It was Kevin's turn to have a bi-polar moment, his previous cautious and unnerved front shattered to make room for abject horror and confusion, But wh- how?! He raged in his mind, I just wanted to meet up with old colleagues and even older friends! But I get in the one cab with a psychopath at the wheel! "No! I am NOT trapped and I will NOT be subjected to your games!" He grasped onto his last few shreds of hope as he vainly attempted to pry open the door, results unsuccessful. "It's just one!" He finished much to Jack's amusement as he moved over to the other door,

They're always so predictable. The sociopath thought, Sure a few variations here and there, and with only a very small amount of extremists, but there's really only about five reactions per gender I've received. Jack thought deeply with only the ghost of a smile on his face, he had forgotten about his Customer once he began thinking about important things, like what course he should run him through. The fear tactics were always fun, but insanity by isolation and imprisonment was also a given. But there was always. . .he was shaken from his contemplation as Kevin began banging on the divider, his tie undone, limp and strewn over his shoulder, clothes tattered and frayed already, black hair unkempt, and pure fear radiating from his streaming auburn eyes.

PLEASE! Kevin lipped, the divider being a nice sound canceller, PLEASE LET ME GO! I'LL GET YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT! I'VE GOT MONEY! I'VE GOT A NICE HOUSE! A CAR!

Jack's gaze unfocused causing him to miss what other pointless pleads and promises his Customer was making at the wheel, Should've taken your car then. Damn, I've gotten good at reading lips. But a honk stirred him again as he began to swerve over the line dividing the road, he didn't mind, he had broken a rule.

"PLEASE LET ME OUT!" Kevin cried as he watched his captor turn away indifferently, he slumped against the wall between them and gave it a halfhearted punch. "I just want to go" He choked out between sobs, having thoroughly retired the idea of escape, nothing worked. He had bashed on the windows, kicked, used his suitcase, and fruitlessly tried to call for help. It- it was hopeless.

As they pulled up to an unassuming parking complex filled with many other cars, parked, entering, or leaving. While Kevin's resolve to live was renewed with false hope and resumed his pointless pounding within the bland and forgettable cab, Jack travelled through the traffic, cones, and rails with practiced ease. He went to the basement level that was taped of with luminescent and reflective police tape, obviously above standard to be noticed. After he passed under the tape they came into a sublevel neatly lit on one side, but the rays were not strong enough to permeate the claustrophobic darkness on the way to the solitary rusty door. When Jack came to the end of the line he parked near a shattered cinder block and reached into his glove compartment, rifling through magazines only used as a quick cover for its important contents, a 40. caliber pistol, leaving its matching suppressor to hollowly roll as its place holder was removed. After retrieving his most effective negotiator, received from an unruly Customer, he unbuckled himself, got out and shut the door behind him. He stretched, causing a few relaxing pops, he had been out for nearly half the day before spotting a valid Customer, of course he didn't do it alone, Mary Jane kept him company as they did lines together. "All right let's move Kevster, I've got a quota to meet."

Kevin had been watching in dismay as he saw Jack work his hand blindly through his glove compartment before drawing a rather large gun and checking if it were loaded, although Kevin was sure he was just showing off as he looked towards him with a distant look in his eyes while he appeared to fawn over it as if it were the most precious thing in existence. As he got unlatched from his seat and left the vehicle Kevin had unconsciously worked his way into the farthest corner from Jack. Jack carried the gun with deft balance, his stance showing he was no fool when it came to shooting, need that be for display, or person. Jack opened the door and stared at his prize with mute emotions and motioned for Kevin to get out, "You don't even know me! Why are you doing this?" Kevin shouted in fear. He received no answer but the repeated motion for him to leave, like Hell he'd go out on his own free will.

Why do these ones always have to be so resistant? It's like they want me to make it worse. Jack began to pull a kicking man out of his seat and threateningly pointed his gun at him when he stood, nearly two inches taller than himself.

"C- come on man, you don't need to do this. I've got a family back home waiting for me and a job that'll notice my absence." Kevin pleaded, sounding entirely false.

Jack stuck the gun into the small of his prize's back and said with badly hidden glee, "No you don't Kev, lying isn't your strong suit, no one's going to miss you. You'll get a pretty page in the papers, some half-assed search-and-rescue, all while I laugh on the sidelines at their pathetic attempts as they scour the alleys, local lakes, and criminal hot-spots, than you'll be forgotten." And began their walk to the rusted, heavy metal door. Kevin silently crying all the way, he didn't have a family true, and his job wouldn't try too hard to look for him, but he did have a life, he did have a special someone he had been meaning to talk to, it was just that Jack failed to notice his acute existence. They entered through the solid door, it opened up into a spacious room, or maybe a spacious research center, because it had all the equipment and then some that one would find in a high-class science lab with its lab and materials, and then there was the less practiced tools, the unorthodox equipment, "Welcome to my humble abode Kevin, you've just stepped into the Great Expanse of Death. Yes I have my G.E.D" The sadistic man laughed as Kevin let out a terrible, ear thrumbing shriek.

Three Days Later

Jack had had an uneventful weekend, his every-other-day schedule kept in check. After he got his Customer settled down into his temporary residence and gave him a few electro-therapy treatments to give him a feel of things to pass, he slept in his 'Office' which was just a small, quarantined room in the same sub-laboratory. He liked to keep an eye on His. But after the symphony of near endless moans and cries, he woke up feeling…empty. He was refreshed but empty. He left his G.E.D behind and got into his covert car, a rusted piece, but a completely mis-leading vehicle. He had gone out, made his rounds, and sold his Products to his Clients. Mindless zombies that exist only for his contraband. But that was only every other day, the business that kept his taxi runs afloat, along with his underground place of residence. He was out on another taxi run and waiting for sight of any lost looking individuals, not expecting anyone yet as it was around eight in the eh-em, but the early bird gets the worm. While he was parked in a McDonalds parking lot he saw what he could only describe as a single man circus act, the squat man had a variety of clothing and baggage on that wouldn't be out of place at one. Holy shit it just keeps getting easier and easier. These freaks are always the best. He quickly turned his keys in the ignition, set it to reverse, backed up, narrowly missed a woman exiting the Golden Arches, put it into first and drove to meet the strange man with the bags, Dude looks like some kind of geek. He thought as the waiting man's clothes seemed to be of the Marvels variety, with baggy jeans, black convers, and rangy, mousy brown hair, Wasn't he just wearing a clown suit? As Jack thought this the man turned and looked straight at him, looked at him, through his window and smiled, the kind of smile you can feel pressing on your mind, What the- this one, he's gonna get it bad. Jack returned his own version of a smile as he pulled up to the creeper, "How's it going pal?" He asked as his newest Customer sealed his fate with the slam of a door, a little harder than usual, noticeably, but it was just a door.

"I'm fine Jack Mort, how are you?" The stranger asked with the same smile present in Jack's rearview mirror.

Well some people have the sense to check my forged license. "Good, wha-" WAIT THAT ISN'T ON THE LICENSE!

"Yes, some do. But I didn't, and my name is Huckster."

What? This guy's a freak! "Hey Huck, wh- what do you mean? Jack asked as they were at a red light.

"...I take offense to that Jack I do, I meant some people do, have a small amount of sense. And please, call me Huckster." The man answered with an air of annoyance about him.

"H- what do you mean? Huckster." Jack began to sweat, because if the man could read minds, he might be able to pick up on memories. He picked up the speed as the light changed as he swerved past other drivers.

"I mean, I know who you are, and what you do. I've been watching your work for a time now whenever I've got it to spare. 1000 years is still a long time to wait even with the time displacements I have installed." Huck said, the latter half more to himself than his generous host, completely lax for one who said they knew Jack's hobbies.

At this Jack pulled to the side of the road and stopped, "What do you mean you know?" He asked, deadly serious.

"I mean your toys, things about you, you never even knew existed."

This is bullshit! "I think I've had enough of you, if you truly know, then you never would have gotten in the car." He finished as he began reaching for his glove compartment.

"Now don't do something stupid you'd regret now. I came to meet you to tell you how much I admire your work!" Huckster finished with a laugh, that off putting smile ever-present, "You are a legend! You make so much with exceedingly little! I get to send mine away and watch as they wreak havoc, ultimately either losing or losing when the win, terribly predictable, I'm quite frankly getting tired of it myself, but anyway, how do you do it?"

Jack was, taken back to say the least, he was gaping at the man in a mix of respect, and gratitude, Finally. Another who can respect. But he was ultimately won by confusion, to be replaced by fear, only to be followed by anger, "Who. The fuck. Are you? No, I don't want to know, all this talk about time and places is- it's just crazy! Look, I'll let you go now, this one time. Next time you get in, the last thing you'll get in will be a tub of acid." He finished as he got out to let him out.

"Ultimately yes, but 'till then...I'll enjoy my life to the fullest. Now, my last bit of business with you would be to visit your place of respite. Your Workshop."

Jack seized up at this, he didn't know how to react to this, kill his only admirer now...or let him see his...or let him see, and then see to him, "Yes, yes I would love to show you around. Here, have a drink, for the ride." He handed Huckster his own personal hip flask through the window and shut it again, they began the trip again.

Once they drew up to the red door, Jack turned around to look at his deeply asleep practically bouncing passenger wave cheerfully at him, "Hi Jack, how ya doing?"

Jack just looked at him, the bottle was loaded with Rohypnol! "F- fine, how are you feeling?"

"Oh I feel great." As if to prove what he said was true he arched his back and cracked his fingers, after that he straightened out and got out of the car, by himself. Jack had taken on a 'fuck this' mentality as he learned of his purpose there. He'd get answers later.

"Ok good, well it's right through this door." Jack said as he waved a hand in its general direction.

"Well the location is certainly creepy enough, again you surpass my shallow beliefs in humanity." He said as he slowly twirled in place, fully taking in the dark lighting, debris, and the lone swinging light over the door, "Yes, it's perfect!" He concluded as he made way for the door, during his slow stroll through the sub-level though, Jack had gone back into his car and retrieved his small sawed-off from a hidden slot in the dashboard. A gift from a Client. His car was tricked the fuck out.*

He tucked it under in the jacket he had been wearing and followed the man, "So how does it look?" He called as Huckster froze a few steps inside.

"It- it's amazing. No words, truly. But disappointment."

This is not what Jack had been expecting, "Wh- what do you mean 'disappointment'? Do you know how hard it was to build a lab underneath a public parking lot?"

"Yes, I do. Have you noticed how everything has been going smoothly for you? No routine checks down here? The cheap power? Your unnoticed endeavors? That was me, as I said, I've been watching you. You've got your hobbies and I have mine." He pointed as he turned about to face Jack, Jack standing a clean four inches over the stout man, "I just wanted to see your progress. You had great potential, and you've met quite a few of your more glorious moments. But you're something new, something special. And as my favorite, you get to...get some changes, with your consent of course."

"What kind of changes? Do I have to move?" Jack asked, having put all else aside for the chance of power.

"Riches, power, and command. All while doing what you do now, but with coworkers, associates, and on a much larger scale."

"That's all amazing, fantastic even, but what's the catch?"

"Ah, well you see, the catch is you will have to move, away, from Earth."

"Fine, fuck Earth. But what kind of people are we talking about?"

Huckster took in a breath through grated teeth, "Ooh, wrong word, not people per sey. Or, not human, but very much so personified."

"Wha- ? You know what, fine. Let' cut to the chase here, what do I have to do?"

"Anything your shriveled, twisted, and cracked heart desires! Your aspirations are mine! We're only human!"

"That's nothing! O- ok. Le- let me...can I pack?" Uncertainty lacing Jack's voice.

"Well I don't see why not! All my other Subjects got to take some things!" He answered sharply with a hungry smile on his face

"Subjects? N-never mind I cant even. Just wait a moment, my stuffs in the car." Like Hell half of what the lying shit said was true! Just another crazy tryin' to push on me! Well I'll get the first pull before he can push. The realist Jack thought, unknowingly sealing his fate for the worse. When he go inside the car had shut itself and the keys had turned it on. He must've forgotten them, but the door was stuck. As he pretended to look for things as he unstrapped the gun from inside his cover, Huckster leered over the driver's window with the scariest, angriest scowl to be made, surging energy causing his eyes to dilate, his features to morph, and his hair to frizz then receed. Once Jack had gotten the shotty loose he tried to kick the door open to no avail. He had then turned around only to see a furious, gigantic, monster staring back at him, he let out a pained and fearful howl as he jumped back and tried to shoot it, only to find his gun on empty.

"You have chosen poorly Jack. For your treasonous acts you will be punished. You will have no help from any super-natural beings, you will have only your few tools and knowledge to get through this new world! You WILL be all alone and to the mercy of it's inhabitants! Enjoy your stay, Jack Mort. And as the demonic entity finished, his car turned around of its own accord and faced straight...at the wall. It jumped to an unnatural speed far faster than its frame should have been able to stand. Jack yelled and closed his eyes as the wall approached closer ad kept like that until he felt a massive weight crush him in seconds, only to then fade away as his senses drained away.

A Rescued Demon

Flash Sentry was out making his usual patrols when a blaring and dying horn stirred him from his monotonous stroll. He went to see what the noise had been and was stunned when he found, what he thought to be, a perfectly intact metal box. He was sure he had seen something fall inside though, but it was so hard to tell with what looked like windows being so dark, How could anypony see through those? What even *is** it?* It was a painfully noticeable yellow, it had a metal plate with figures on te front, and with further inspection he had found another exactly identical plate on the back, four doors all around, but with two larger incisions on the front and back, but it was hard to tell the front from the back with this, he assumed the front was what had been facing him when he arrived. It had two rubber wheels per side, a fifth underneath that Flash believed to be a spare, speaking of the undercarriage, it was also covered in a strong sheet of metal, with bolts circling the perimeter. Again Flash thought he saw something move behind the screens, but this time a noise was heard after the brief movement, what sounded like a moan, of pain. If there's somepony is inside and needs help I need to save them! And he went to the door nearest where the sights were coming and looked for some sort of handle to pull on and found a small, near invisible, handle and dexterously furled his left wing's tip feathers around it, with a little more effort than he had first anticipated he got the door open, only to have a two white sheets slam into him, one of powder and another of...material. After he had coughed away the powder and shaken off the surprise from the jump-scare, he sat up and went back to the vehicle.

When he looked inside he saw not a pony, not even rightly a diamond dog or minotaur, but...something else. Something instinctual about this thing made him feel like immediately flying away, but, something kept him there. He felt...better. So he attempted to carry the beast away before he noticed he was snagged on his safety-belt, causing a quiet rattle as the metals moved. Wh- what was that? Flash quickly looked over his shoulder to see if anypony else ad heard the noise, but it was before even Celestia's Sun had risen? No other ponies would be out. Just, just working over nothing. He sighed as he brushed away the beads of sweat that he hadn't noticed until the wind chilled them, What's wrong with me? I'm never this jumpy. He bypassed that and unbuckled the strange thing, pushed some bags on him over to the side, tucked whatever metal thing it appeared to have been holding back in it's jacket, hefted him over his barrel and felt as if the creature weighed nothing at all, This is amazing! Either it's light as a feather or I'm stronger than I thought! Flash inwardly gloated as he brought him to his Cabin in the Woods.

As he approached his camping hut...well, more of a fully-fledged house. Anyway, when he got to his secret escape from reality, secret being no one pony else knew of it, he easily pushed open the door, went into the fire-lit den and set his companion down hastily but carefully, the trip lasting around an hours time he held up nicely, but he was starting to feel the effects of fatigue, and something else. He left his load for the kitchen as he felt hungry, from all the exertion of course, but he hadn't noticed the large figure starting to move, but then it stopped. "Alright where's all the goods at?" Flash asked out loud as he searched through the kitchen. He went through multiple cabinets and drawers, a variety of courses, half his supply of food total that was supposed to last him weeks before he gave up and trudged upstairs to his bedroom. But after he had taken off his armor, brushed his teeth (so important) and settled into bed, he found he couldn't, settle. "Alright that's enough fooling around Flash! First you won't eat, now you won't sleep! What's wrong with you?" He berated his own body as if expecting it to answer for himself. But then the strangest thing happened, it did. His mind took a step back and rewound until both the moment when the bag came out at him and the bags he had pushed off his friend. "What is that stuff?" He wondered in awe, "Was that what made me feel so strong? Is that what's keeping me from sleeping! Well if my body wants it then it can't be bad for it!" He summed up as he jumped into a standing position on his bed. Seriously, whoever said 'ignorance is bliss' was a fucking idiot.

So as Flash Sentry again wove his way back to his house, he had upon his back every bag he could find that was filled with the same thing, or what he hoped. There were a variety of bags with quick taped labels of 'KJ' 'Hash' 'Rock' 'Stackerz' and other things he didn't know about. When he finally returned home he went into the kitchen and unloaded the bags onto it, "There, one of these have to be it, because I'm not going back for the rest." But once he set them down, he didn't know how to cut it up he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He thought back on how he got it first, "I inhaled it!" But even with that grand step in the debatably right direction, he was still tentative about the whole 'purposely inhale an unknown substance' thing until his chest began to hurt. Must be some sort of deprivation. I do *need** this then.* But still, Narc or not, he was...resistant. He only tore the first few bags corners and let them spill onto his table, but the last bag, a green one, was trickier than the last. Causing his small rip to become a pouring hole, dropping it's leaf-like fill to spill, N- no, it wasn't green. He began to pick up the shreds as he was also eying the table for the most likely suspect. It was light, like sugar...but it tasted different. He moved over to the nearest bag and rested his beginning-to-ache head on the table's edge, I need a smoke What's going on? s it *really** that important?* He had wanted to take this crucial decision into deep consideration, but he felt as if he was starting to come down with something bad and he felt like this was both the cause of it, and something that would stave it off. He measured his chances and almost decided to see a doctor before his ache became a heavy migraine and interrupted him, he stopped himself from plunging his face into the powders and decided to start with the left, the bag was labeled 'KJ'. You have chosen...wisely? Near immediately his migraine was replaced with his old strength, energy, and alertness, "Ah, that's better. So 'KJ' is it then. I'll need to remember that, and pay my friend back for what I've used." He went to go up to bed again, and he nearly got back to sleep again until he started to feel...empty again. "Dang it. I knew the last was smaller than my first." He went back down to get a larger dose, relieved himself, and went back to bed. This time he managed to get to sleep, but he woke up in the middle of Luna's night, his blankets on the floor, sheets twisted and undone, his feathers ruffled, and a freezing sweat coating his body coupled with an intense hunger for it. Flash rushed back down to his kitchen, nearly slipping on the stairs in his haste, and succumbed to need. He stuffed his muzzle into the bag and took huge inhalations of the PCP and went into shock, his muzzle clamping and narrowly missing his tongue, his eyes rolling in a Derpyess fashion, erratic wing movements, one stood out, feathers ruffled, while the other was clamped shut in an awkward 'L' shape, foam beginning to form at his mouth, sporadic ear twitching, his fur stood on-end at random times, and he fell to the floor in a writhing mess. He blacked out, zero consciousness after he muzzle-dove.

In The Morning

Jack woke up from his small-time coma to a new house, he didn't freak out though, he's done it before. He just sat and absorbed all the décor and spotted anything of potential value. The night's memory forgotten for now. He stood up from the considerably short couch, Well it's not my place to judge someone's furniture. He stretched, yawned, and sat back down to think of how he should run the house next. This isn't the first time you woke up in a different place. I could loot the place or just raid the kitchen. His stomach won over the loot and he got back up to go into the kitchen, the sunlight's rays shining through some unseen window. As he approached the arched entryway though he saw leaves o the floor, his leaves. Cut and minced just they way he would, Ok ok either I'm in a Client's house, or we were having a party and I decided to bring some party favors. He walked in and blinked as he saw an unconscious pegasus on the floor. He wasn't a stranger to highs and assumed it was just a trick of his mind. But after a while of concentration and a bowl of water to his face the pegasus did not ever waver in existence. He turned around from the low placed sink and immediately forgot about who's horse it was when he saw just how many different party favors he'd brought. What the fuck what the fuck?! This shit is *illegal! I can't believe I got krunked enough to bring **these!* He tried to think of any reason he'd be so comfortable with this, Clients were loyal, but only until they got what they needed, he had no idea what kind of Client he could have that could double life in such a nice house, a little...was it? Was it a midget's house? That could explain the small horse, or *pony if you will, and the wings could be fake for all he knew, cocaine is a hell of a drug. But what job could this person have th-* His train of thought was interrupted as the pony gave a strong kick in his sleep and snorted, out. A plume of white powder came out in the masses and Jack was definitely not expecting the possibility of Shit, did we crack up the horse too? It gave another kick and an eye opened, one bloodshot eye and constricted pupil glazed over the room, going right over Jack and around the room. It closed it's eye and let out an uncharacteristic sigh and stood up, coming up to Jack's chest, his wins drooped to the floor lazily and occasionally gave a noncommittal twitch, his strange blue mane was clumped with saliva from his deep comatose state earlier and shook it as if to rid itself of a headache. Again Jack noted the powder all over it's coat and stifled a laugh, only because he knew how bad a morning headache could be too. But Jack got to wondering were it came from and finally let out his first sound of the day, a cry of shock. The bag! It's almost empty! I only had one of those it's too costly to bring extra! Speaking of costly, this guy better have my pay.

Flash felt like he had been in another Charlie Pony contest Never. Again. His head felt melted, his eyes hurt and a particular spot on his head hurt, just behind his left eye. He risked a shake of the head to try and get rid of the feeling and he did, to an extent. But he couldn't remember what he had done the other day to cause such a thing. He vaguely remembered finding somepony, and something, something good. "Wh- what did I do?" He was answered by only a fit of coughing, shaking of more powder, and the sharp gasp of Jack who had been watching him with slight amusement.

What was that? Did it just *talk!** Oh shit this stuff is stronger than I remember!* Jack never liked Scarface anyways. He felt around for one of his weapons and was relieved when he found his pump tucked neatly away in his jacket, he drew it and called for the pony, "H- hey! You there, pony thing. You talk?" Sure he felt like an idiot, but he had an alibi, he felt high as could be.

"Y-yes? I think." Flash moaned, not really registering what was happening, only his Hunger coming back, "I need some more of t- that stuff. It helps with the headache."

"Holy shit it talks. Wait? What stuff?" Product before all else.

"That white stuff, powdery like sugar, but better." The pony finished with his hunger creeping in  near the end.

"Which one?" Jack asked, talking ponies could wait until later, now he needed to see where all his Product went.

"Th- the white bag. Uh, I think it was labeled 'KJ'" He finished as he looked on top of his table again.

"Krystal Joint, or PCP. Yeah that shit hits hard. Wait, did you take all of that? How...how are you not you know dead."

"Dead?" This woke Flash and raised alarm, "Why would it kill me? I- it made me feel better."

"It's what it does. Now, are you gonna pay me? I need it, now."

"I uh, I don't know, do I have money?" He asked himself.

Jack's face darkened and he pointed the gun at Flash, "What do you mean you don't have any money? Do you have any idea how much it costs to make this stuff?" He whispered, unsure if anybody were near enough to hear.

Flash just lay back down and sighed, his hoof coming to rest on his head as he wait for his migraine to go away, "Not now, but I'm a Royal Guard, I'll make sure to pay you next paycheck."

The title 'guard' struck Jack in a strange way. He was neither impressed or awed, but furious and frightened, If this guy's a cop then I'm totally screwed! Unless... "Hey...guy, do you know what this stuff is exactly? And what, as a guard, do you do?"

"Just stuff that really helps, and I think I need some more, this headache isn't going away."

"And, what do you do as a guard?"

The rise in Jack's voice unsettled him and hurt his head, "I- I just make sure it all stays how it is. I protect Equestria, sworn in to the Princesses, Celestia and Luna." Jack had nothing on this.

Equestria? What a gay name. Princesses? Celestia and Luna? Geez can they be anymore transparent? "Ok, that's...nice, but do you know what," Jack took a moment to think how to best place it, "What drugs are?"

"Of- of course, their like medicine and stuff. Things that help and are good for you." His cramps became to much and he tried to force himself back up to the table for more. Jack saw this and remembered the near-empty bag. He didn't have anything to make more, if this place was really so opaque as to not know what the bad kind of drugs were, and this one was already nearly hooked on it, he could make a fortune here. Jack forced Flash to the ground again before he could huff anymore, but Flash bit at his hand. Luckily for Flash he missed, to far to the left.

"What did you just try to do to me?" Jack asked, increasing his grip on the gun until his knuckles turned white. He was only met with a snarl as Flash attempted to go for the table's load again, only to find himself on the floor with an even stronger pain in his head. Jack had whipped him with the front of the gun, "No, no more for you! These things here? They are mine!"

Flash was crestfallen when he heard this, it was the man's, and the shred of sanity in him relented from his pursuit, "Fine, but can I have, just a little bit more?"

Jack was happy, crack heads made such fine workers, diligent and convicted 'till the end, "Sure, but only what I say you can. Then you have to get me something." Flash didn't hear anything after 'sure' and dove his head in once more, "What the Hell are you doing?" Jack grabbed the mane of the hyped pony and sat him down, "That's not how you do it! Is that why I found you on the floor? You've been just stuffing your face in it?" Jack roared as Flash only just then registered he was indeed on the floor, he hadn't gone to bed.

"Well then how am I supposed to do it?" The tortured stallion seethed as his duo of head pains berated him.

"There's quite a few ways actually, but you want a more...instantaneous effect, so I'll show you the rest later, when you do what I ask, and we have more." Flash watched Jack's hands pull a plastic rectangle and metal pipe from one of his many pockets and take a small amount from the bag. He then began to cut it into different lines, looking at Flash with a smile as he did so, making sure his newest lackey knew exactly how to get to it, "There, now you try." He pushed it all back together, "Only use enough to..." He looked at his future partner, "Flatly cover your hoof, that shouldn't be too much." He set his tools down and decided to stay clean as long as he had some underlings, Wouldn't want him to try and et the drop on me, no that's what he's for.

Flash picked up the card and measured the fine powder on his hoof, his barrel leaning on the table's edge. He then flattened it out, pushing of anything extra, and set it back on the table and began to cut it too. Not only was Jack surprised that he could lift the card and powder, but how neatly he cut it. After he had it diced he picked up the pipe instinctively and snorted it all, letting out a contented sigh as his body shivered from the experience, "Th- thanks...what's you name? Mine's Flash Sentry."

Jack looked at the totally changed stallion, "Of course it is, mine's...Walter Padick. Feel better?"

"Much thank you, I needed that." He smiled as his right eye unconsciously twitched and blinked on its own.

"Sure, now about that favor." Jack continued, his point finally being brought back around again, I can be patient with my Clients and Patients.

"Sure, anything Wahl-tur" The alien name scraping his throat.

"It's Walter. And as you can see, I'm running on low a bit here, and I lack the required...ingredients to make more, same goes for the rest. My favor being, do you know anybody...chemistry wise?" Jack's smile being most prominent near the end.

"Of course, there's always Twi- " No, not her. Something told him inside, "Yeah," he began more hesitantly, "I know a pony."

"Who?" Although names wouldn't really matter for him, he liked the reassurance of Flash knowing someone, or 'somepony' as he put it, We'll put that under 'cultural differences'.

"Well um," Hmm, well the Prince always has some knew shampoo made for him nearly every other week. "Prince, Prince Blueblood."

Jack's smile slowly drained away as another royal was mentioned, What's with all these damn social figures? And really? 'Blueblood?' Bah, fuck it. "Ok while names are nice, what...kind of 'prince' are we talking about here?"

"Well the only prince besides Shining Armor of course, who is, by the by, the head of Equestria's military that I am a part of." He stated proudly.

"Ok ok, but...well I should ask 'how' is this prince?"

"Oh the Prince is a stuck up pile of horse manure, thankfully I don't know him personally, but anypony can get into contact with him, with the right incentive. And my being a pegasus and everything really raises the bar for that 'incentive'." He finished with a bit of sadness near the end.

"No way! Racism works over here too! Oh that's just too- damn it! What kind of gift would he want?" Jack had started laughing but ended disgruntled.

"Well usually he likes epics about himself, or bits, lots and lots and lots of bits."

"Whoa whoa? Bits? What's that supposed to mean? Money?"

"Well I assumed that was what you meant what with the context you were using it in. Was I right?" Flash asked as he placed a thoughtful hoof on his chin.

"Indefinitely, more so however, what does the currency look like?" Jack asked fully expecting it to be like, bales of hay or something to the effect.

"Well I think I have one around here somewhere. Wait just a moment Walter." He began to rummage through his drawers and cabinets, and Jack noticed that his counters were devoid of anything really, electrical. He was interrupted as Flash let out an excited gasp as he came back with...with a chocolate coin in his muzzle, "Er oo oh. I hound one en te ca'net." He placed the coin on the table, "Sorry, here you go. I found one in the cabinet."

"What is this? A chocolate coin? Don't try to play with me right now."

"A chocolate what? No, this is a bit." Flash answered with confusion, Why would anypony make a chocolate bit? That, that actually sounds kinda nice.

Jack picked up the coin and searched the edges for any give or overlapping tinfoil. Upon not finding any he tried to bend it, which he was partially successful, only it didn't break like chocolate would and just made a 45 angle in it, "Is this, is this gold!"

"Why do you sound so surprised? How did you bend it? And what did you expect?"

You know what? I'll get to this later "Nothing in particular, just not this. But anyway, can you get to Blueblood?"

"Well I don't have to get to him particularly, just one of his scientists." He had no idea how happy this made Jack, but it must've shown, "What's wrong Walter? You look, different." He hadn't seen his happy face before and it looked, wrong on him. It made Flash feel like crying.

"I'm fine, great and fantastic! But I'm still going to need you to go find one of his scientists to, work with me, one no one else really notices, a less popular one," So no one will miss him, "To help his work, make him famous!"

Flash nodded his head in understanding, and the prospect of getting more 'Crystals' Is *that** what the dragons have been eating? No wonder they love them and always eat it! It's amazing! But chronic and needy.* "Sure I get it, do him a favor as he does you a favor."

"Yes, brilliant, now please, find someone who can...break down its components. So I can show him and you exactly what we'd need. It's a lengthy process. After that, maybe we can garner some more...acquaintances."

"Yeah ok, do you want me to go now or help you clean up?"

"No I've got it, you can go now." Jack finished as he began sweeping up the various compounds. As Flash made it for the door Jack called for him one last time, "And don't tell them about me ok? Just say...just say you need help making something, nothing more. And be discreet about it for fuck's sake, don't go spreading it around! Here, take this one last hit before you go." He cut one more line and moved over as Flash came back over with his eyes on nothing more than the powder.

He hit it hard after he picked up the pipe and shuddered. With one last 'thanks' he left the house and headed back to civilization to pick up a competent chemist. Walter was awfully vague, Flash thought as he snorted the remnants from his muzzle, Well I better find someone to fit the bill.

Jack watched through the window as his only contact walked away into a world he knew near-nothing about, "Who's a good little crack pony?" He joked as he shut the curtains only allowing him sight to a small shaven road, the clearing they were in, and countless trees towering overhead. He left to inspect the rest of the house and take stock of what he had. Uh oh, somepony forgot to mention the car.