The exhaust from the industrial complex lit up the night sky of Las Pegasus. Hordes of ponies shuffled along the grimy streets. Startling rumors had spread like an unquenchable wildfire throughout the day. Las Pegasus was a city on fire.
Shining Armor stood in a dimly-lit conference room and lit a cigarette. He knew Cadance would not approve, but he needed to relax after conducting 28 Phrienn-Schipp tests on the employees of the Turner Corporation. His eyes were bloodshot and he felt his head throbbing with a raging headache.
He let out a long puff of smoke as a voice called the 29th employee in. Shining Armor gazed out the giant window overlooking the city. He strained to catch a glimpse of any stars against the night sky as flames erupted from ports in the outlying factories. Number 29's reflection appeared in the window and Shining Armor turned around to face him.
"Go ahead and sit down, Mr..."
"Macintosh. Big Macintosh," the red, muscular pony responded. He stood for a moment, sizing him up, then sat down.
Shining Armor took his seat and began to calibrate his test equipment. He hit a switch and a small lens slowly uncurled, extending into an erect position. Shining Armor carefully eyed his test subject’s face, trying to position the lens correctly. Big Macintosh strained his head to look around it.
"Could you just sit still plea-"
"What kind of test is this?" he asked.
"Just go ahead and relax," Shining Armor insisted. "I'm just going to ask you some questions."
"What kinds of questions?" Big Macintosh persisted.
"Some questions regarding you, your friends-"
"Friends?"
"You have friends, don't you Mac?" Shining Armor puffed out a cloud of smoke impatiently. He couldn't stand talkers.
"Eeyup."
"Then don't worry about it." Shining Armor centered the lens on Big Macintosh's eye. A colored meter lit up below the screen.
"Reaction time is a factor in this so please pay attention," Shining Armor instructed. “In just a moment, I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Please answer promptly and honesty.” He began transferring information from Big Macintosh's information sheet. "One-one-eight-seven Hoofwasser," he muttered softly.
"That's the hotel,"Big Macintosh interjected.
"What?" Shining Armor snapped.
"Where I live."
"Nice place?" he asked crossly.
"Eeyup, I guess. Is that part of the test?"
"No, just warming you up." He's not a bright one, Shining Armor thought. He pulled out his list of questions and moved his hoof down the list. I’ll start with this one. "You're walking along in the forest, when-"
"Is this the test now?"
"Yes. You're in the forest, when you come across-"
"Which one?"
"What?"
"What forest is it?"
Shining Armor couldn't believe this. His head throbbed mercilessly. "It doesn't matter which one. It's completely hypothetical."
"But how come I be there?"
"I don't know, maybe you're fed up. Maybe you want to be by yourself. Who knows?" He shook his head. "You come across your friend's pet tortoise, which has-"
"Tortoise?"
Shining Armor took a long inhale of smoke and sat back. "You know what a turtle is?"
"Eeyup."
"Same thing."
"I've never seen a turtle,” he added.
Shining Armor did a double take. This isn't happening. He rubbed his temples and blinked his eyes a few times. Never had he had such a vexatious test subject.
"But I know what you mean," Big Macintosh added.
Shining Armor exhaled and continued. "The tortoise is dead."
"How'd it die?"
"For the love of Celestia would you please not interrupt the damn test! It doesn't matter how turtle freakin’ died!”
“Tortoise.”
“It's dead. Your friend's tortoise is dead. It’s sprawled out on the ground and it's shell is fractured. Its skin is cracked and dry and there's a horrible stench coming from it!" Shining Armor stood over the table, his chest heaving in rage. Suddenly, he began coughing on smoke and sat back down.
Big Macintosh sat there, pondering the matter. "I reckon my friend would be sad."
"Devastated," Shining Armor said. The machine beeped and the lights in the meter faded out. A negative response, he realized. The question did not appear to have an affect on him. I may have a replicant here, Shining Armor thought. I need to run him through a couple more questions to be sure.
“How do you handle the situation?” he prompted. “How do you inform your friend that their pet has died in such a disgraceful manner?"
Big Macintosh eyes widened. He quickly looked down and began breathing heavily. "What are these questions?" he asked, his face trembling. Sweat dripped down his haggard face.
"They’re designed to provoke an emotional response out of you," he explained. This one sure has. He checked the meter and noted that it still indicated a negative result. Artificial emotion. Seeing the expression on Big Macintosh’s face, he gave him an unconvincing smile of assurance.
"Why?" Big Macintosh demanded.
"Just for reference," Shining Armor said. He could swear Big Macintosh’s face was blushing furiously under his red coat. Slowly, he moved his hoof towards his gun. I can’t be too careful around this one, he thought. "Shall we continue?"
Big Macintosh hesitated for a second, then nodded.
"Describe in as much detail as you can, all the best friendship traits your mother possesses."
"My mother?" Big Macintosh leaned forward. "Let me tell you about my mother."
Shining Armor saw Big Macintosh's hoof move slightly under the table and he quickly grasped for his pistol. Simultaneously, his horn glowed, preparing a stun spell.
A shot rang out and Shining Armor flew back in his chair. A second one sounded and he crashed through the wall behind him. He lay there in shock, blood gushing out of two bullet holes in his chest. Debris from the wall lay scattered around him and lightly singed papers floated down slowly to the floor. Smoke swirled between Shining Armor and Big Macintosh. His breath came in frantic gasps and he reached frantically for his pistol. It only lay a few feet away, but Shining Armor found he had no strength to move. He turned his head back and stared at his attacker. As the smoke faded away Big Macintosh turned and walked out of the room.