Vinyl Scratch’s deep red eyes rolled as she lounged on the immaculate leather couch in the corner of my plush office, completely self-assured as per usual. I sighed with exasperation. We both didn’t want to be here, but only one of us was expressing that.
“Look, Miss Scratch,”
I said, trying to maintain my professional manner, the manner that had ensured I became a hotshot barrister. She continued to ignore me.
“I realise that legal issues are a tedious matter, and you expect ‘Eggheads’ like me to solve all your problems in return for your annual fee, but honestly, this is serious business.”
She rolled over, faced the wall, and put in earphones. The loud dubstep was completely audible to me, even though I stood on the opposite side of large room that the law firm had given me. Her lack of interest annoyed me. I hated sounding like a pretentious idiot (which seemed to be a large part of my profession), but not more than I currently hated this overconfident mare who was completely oblivious to the dire situation she was in. Unfortunately, my job pitted me to work with Ponies like her all the time. I went for a different approach. I trotted up to her, forcefully yanked the headphones out her ears, and yelled:
“Vinyl Scratch, you are being accused of 2 counts of theft, and 1 of Vandalism. If you are found guilty of all these offences, you know what the worst penalty you could receive would be? 3 Years in prison. Now, are you going to sit on your lazy ass and basically beg to be jailed, or are you going to co-operate with me so we can clear you of this sentence!?”
That woke the white mare up. She rolled back over to face me and put her hands behind her head.
“Relax, Doc, it’ll be fine.” She yawned, her Manehatten accent only slightly visible.
“No, it won’t be, unless we get you a solid alibi and rock hard evidence to back it up!” I persisted. “Now, let’s begin. Where were you at 4.33 PM on the 12th of April?
Vinyl began to drone in a bored voice: “So, I was just comin’ back from a drink with my homegirl De-“
“Miss Scratch?”
“Yes?”
I tried to keep my tone straight.
“For some reason, I highly doubt the criminal court of Ponyville will appreciate you saying ‘Homegirl’”.
She blinked, as if surprised that using slang at a formal occasion was not a way to earn respect.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” She said, evidently not sorry in the slightest.
“Anyway,” I chimed, doing my utmost to remove any hints of frustration out of my voice. “Continue.”
“So, I was headin home from meeting my friend, Derpy. We had a few drinks, and, as I left Sugar Cube Corner, I noticed this sparkly sorta shimmer in the dirt. So, I dug at it, and I found these 2 huge gems and a spraypaint can! I was just kinda poking at them wondering what Crazy Colt could’ve put ‘em there, when some stupid cop comes up and handcuffs me! Here I am now.”
I sighed again. I didn’t tell her then, but her story would instantly be decimated any competent prosecutor. Why would the thief ever bury the rubies in the middle of a crowded Ponyville street? How would they even be able to do it in plain sight? How come none of the artefacts had dirt on them when found? I had an odd feeling that she was telling the truth, but all the evidence was against her. She was found outside Sugar Cube Corner, utterly smashed on Applejack Daniels. She was holding a can of paint. The can’s contents had been deposited on the side of the carousel boutique in such a disgusting picture that Miss Rarity, being the fragile mare she was, fainted, and had to have 3 cups of strong tea before she could even begin to fish for sympathy about the incident. Vinyl was also found holding 2 large rubies from the Boutique. Both items had her hoofprints and DNA on.
As the conversation between us progressed her eyes lit up.
“Derpy!”
The mare yelled at the ceiling triumphantly, jumping into the air with a burst of elation.
“Derpy can back me up! I was with her for hours before the incident!”
I was impressed.
“Seeing as Miss Hooves was the only witness, if you can prove you were with her at the time of the incident you’ll have an untouchable alibi.”
With a growing yet cautious sense of optimism, I held out my hoof, and said:
“I’ll go to speak to Miss Hooves immediately, to prepare your defence. Thank you for coming Miss Scratch, this has proved more useful than the last several appointments.”
