Sweetie Belle: Blackjack Dealer. Yay!

Chapters

A man, a plan, a casino
Secret Weapon
The Nuclear Option
Friends
Shadow
Time to shuffle off
Fish Out of Water

A man, a plan, a casino

“And so it is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Royal Flush to break ground on Ponyville’s newest attraction, The Lucky Horseshoe Casino!”

There was a smattering of polite applause from the assembled ponies. Yes, the town needed the money to clean up after Tirek’s rampage, and apparently it was either legalize gambling or face a massive property tax hike, but that didn’t mean the simple pony folk that lived in Ponyville had to be excited about the idea of a casino opening up in their sleepy little hamlet.

It wasn’t that they minded the idea of a casino per se. A place to play some cards, maybe catch a show and enjoy an all-you-can-eat three bit buffet sounded great. But everpony also knew that with a casino came unsavory elements. Ponies lived in Ponyville to get away from the harsh lights and problems of the bigger cities like Manehattan and Fillydelphia. Having a Casino in town would just invite “mares of the evening” and organized crime to take up residence, not to mention probably cause a few more alcoholics and gambling addictions amongst the more suggestible members of the populace.

“I know what you are all thinking,” a white stallion with a red mane said with a smile as he took over the mayors spot behind the lectern. “You’re thinking that if we let this big city stallion build his casino here, soon we’ll be having all sorts of big city problems. Well I’m here to tell you that the Lucky Horseshoe Casino is not going to have any of that malarkey. No sir, The Lucky Horseshoe Casino is going to be a place for good ol’ wholesome family entertainment. So, I’m pleased to be breaking ground right here in Ponyville, and I’ll hope you’ll all come out to visit us when we open the doors in a few weeks.

There was another polite smattering of applause and then the crowd dispersed, except for one little filly who stayed rooted right where she was.

Ever since Sweetie Belle had wandered past the groundbreaking ceremony, she had an uncontrollable itch. No, not that kind of itch, she had already had that talk with Rarity. No, this was more like a gentle tingling in her horn. It didn’t forcibly drag her to the casino, but it did nudge her in that direction. Remembering Rarity’s story about how she found her cutie mark, she knew what she had to do.

“Okay so I’ve got three kings and two sixes, what’s that? A crowded stable?” Applebloom asked.

“No, it’s a full house, and I win because I have a straight flush, which is better than a flush and a straight.” Sweetie Belle said confidently.

“My parents say everyone should be allowed to get married,” Scootaloo chimed in, eager to stop talking about stupid, arbitrary rules.

“No Scoots, not that kind of straight.”

“Ugh forget it Sweetie, ah can’t keep all these rules in mah head; straight beats flush unless it’s a straight flush, and what the hay is a royal flush?”Applebloom said, throwing her cards down in frustration. They had been playing cards for a while now in the hopes of getting good enough to work at the casino, and so far all they had managed to do was make Scootaloo bored and Applebloom confused.

“He’s the casino owner. Do you think he has a marefriend? Maybe we can set him up with Miss Cheerilee.” Scootaloo chimed in again, seeing another opportunity to change the subject.

“No, it’s flush beats straight. C’mon guys we can do this. It’ll be fun.” Sweetie’s high pitched voice implored.

“Sweetie, we are not going to be Cutie Mark Crusader casino employees; it’s sooo boring,” Scootaloo replied, rolling her eyes.

“Scoots is right, ain't no way they’d hire us. We’re fillies, we can’t go to a casino much less work at one.” said Applebloom.

Her idea on the verge of being shot down by both of her friends, she tried appealing to Scootaloo first. “I’ll bet Rainbow Dash will hang out at the casino a lot. She seems like she would like gambling.”

“Well if Rainbow Dash-”

“Rainbow Dash ain’t going to be at the casino, Scoots! And Sweetie, you should know better than to get her hopes up. We ain’t doin this. We play games all the time and it hasn’t gotten us cutie marks yet. Why would this be any different?”

“Sorry Sweetie Belle, Applebloom’s right. I don’t want to do this either. We should think of a different idea.”

“But you guys, I’m sure this is going to be my special talent. You have to do this with me,” Sweetie Belle pleaded.

“No we don’t. Y’all didn’t come with me when I wanted to try Cutie Mark Crusaders cliff divers, so I don’t have to do this,” said Scootaloo with more than a trace of indignation.

“Ah don’t think working at a casino’s going to be your talent, Sweetie. I don’t care what kind of horn mumbo-jumbo ya got goin on,” said Applebloom

“Well fine, be that way. I’m going to the Casino. So there!” Sweetie Belle said before she stormed out of the clubhouse.

Back at the temporary offices of The Lucky Horseshoe in a trailer on the barren plot of land that would soon be the casino, Royal Flush was talking to his assistant.

“I meant what I said, Temperance.”

“Yes Mr. Flush.” came the flat reply of the beige coated mare.

“My casino is going to be good ol’ wholesome family entertainment, the kind of place you’d feel good about bringing your kids or your mom to.”

“Yes Mr. Flush.”

“Not like the last time in Las Pegasus. Have we sent out apology bouquets to all those families yet?”

“Yes Mr. Flush.”

Before he could continue, his plans were interrupted by a gentle knock on his door. Surprised, he carefully opened it only to see an adorable unicorn filly staring up at him. Before he could suggest that maybe she was in the wrong place, the filly began to speak.

“Hi Mr. Flush. My name is Sweetie Belle, and I’d like to work at your casino.”

Both ponies just stared at the young, wide-eyed unicorn standing in front of them. She took their silence as her cue to continue her sales pitch. “I know how to play poker and blackjack, and everyone says I’m real friendly, and please, Mr. Flush, I promise I’ll do a good job if you just give me a chance. I don’t have my cutie mark yet, and I’m just sure I’ll get it working here. Pleeeease!”

The casino owner looked down at the filly pleading with him with those wide, earnest, green eyes. How could anypony say no to that face? A wide smile began to form on Royal Flushe's lips as an idea began to coalesce in his head. Not only could nopony say no to that face, nopony could possibly do anything even the slightest bit tawdry with such a sweet looking filly around. He looked down at Sweetie Belle with the biggest grin she had ever seen. “Why, Sweetie Belle, I think you are exactly what this casino needs!”

Secret Weapon

Sweetie Belle burst into the Carousel Boutique brimming with the excitement from her very first job offer.

“Rarity! Rarity! I just got a job at the casino!”

Rarity looked up from the pattern she was stitching, bewildered, “I’m sorry dear, what was that? You found a job?

“Uh huh, I walked by the groundbreaking ceremony for the casino and my horn started tingling just like yours did at that school pageant so I went to the casino owner and he said I could be a Blackjack dealer on Friday nights and weekends! Isn’t that great?” Sweetie Belle said, gasping for breath.

“Royal Flush agreed to let you work at his Casino?”

“Yep, weren’t you listening? I’m going to be a blackjack dealer!”

Rarity exploded into the temporary offices of the Lucky Horseshoe dragging Sweetie Belle, who was futilely pulling on her tail, desperate to stop her big sister.

“I don’t know what it is you think you’re doing, but Sweetie Belle is my sister! You are going to abandon whatever sick, twisted plan you have for her or I will shove my hoof so far up your plot that you will need a royal decree from Celestia herself to remove it! I will burn this place to ashes and then I will burn those ashes! I WILL BUCK YOU UP!” The room went deathly silent save for Rarity’s heavy breathing and flaring nostrils.

Royal Flush looked up at the mare threatening to immolate his charred corpse, “Umm employee families get half off our buffet on Fridays?” he offered.

“Oh, well that sounds lovely. Never mind then. Have fun Sweetie,” Rarity called over her shoulder as she cantered away.

After a few weeks of construction, the Lucky Horseshoe Casino was prepared to open. It was somewhat small and less garish than most casinos, but it was still unmistakably a casino; the slot machines, gaming tables and hideous carpeting saw to that.

“Now, do you know what the most important part about being a Blackjack Dealer is?” Royal Flush asked as he conducted Sweetie’s orientation.

“Hit on 16 or below, stay on 17 and above. Unless it’s a soft seventeen, then you hit. And always split your aces?”

“Very good, but no. The most important thing about being a blackjack dealer is that you let the customer know you’re on their side. Congratulate them when they win, apologize when they lose. You want them to do well.”

“I’m on their side? But don’t I play for the house?”

“Nope. You don’t gamble as a Blackjack dealer, house rules tell you what to do. You’re there to make the customer feel welcome; all you have to think about is being friendly and keeping that adorable smile up.

“Friendly, smile, got it. You can count on me, sir!” Sweetie said flashing her best thousand watt smile, the kind that had been known to make adults everywhere melt into syrupy piles of goo.

Royal Flush saw Sweetie’s smile and matched it with one of his own. His plan was foolproof. “Just like that. You’re gonna be great, kid.”

Finally, it was opening night. Despite their reservations, the citizens of Ponyville turned out to see their newest attraction and maybe see if Royal Flush meant what he said about the place being family friendly. So far, it appeared he was true to his word.True, the cocktail servers were naked, but most ponies in Ponyville walked around naked anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. Everything was going swimmingly as Royal Flush walked the grounds, glad handling the patrons and comping the occasional meal until he saw two stallions walk in.

If they weren’t as big as Big Mac, they were only off by a pie or two. The wore matching, albeit different colored, fedoras, had the same narrowed eyes and grim countenances. Anypony in the casino business would instantly recognize them as low level enforcers for one of the major crime families based out of either Manehattan or Las Pegasus.

“Youse the owner of this here establishment?” the stallion on the right said as they zeroed in on Royal Flush.

“That is correct. What can I help you gentlecolts with?” he said with a smile, knowing full well what they were here for.

“We’s here looking for a donation to the ‘this place doesn’t get busted up’ fund,” the stallion on the left said with a crocodile smile and the slightest hint of a glare in his eye. No doubt he had perfected the look based on a long history of “fundraising.”

“Because a mind is a terrible thing to waste, such as your’s splattered all over this here shiny, new carpet,” his partner said with his own,though somewhat less polished, smile and glare combination.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want that. I’d be happy to make a donation, but you see all the money the casino has is in circulation at the blackjack table. Our dealer is quite popular; you’ll have to solicit from her,” Royal Flush said with his own crocodile smile. It was time to unveil his secret weapon against the mob.

“We gotta work on your innuendo Mugsy,” the stallion on the left said as the pair made their way over to the tables. Mare or stallion, it didn’t matter to the duo. They only had one rule: get paid.

There was only one blackjack table, and it was indeed the most popular table in the place. The crowd of ponies surrounding the table began to part as the two stallions approached. As the last remnants of the crowd remembered that they wanted to try another game, the two stallions saw the famed blackjack dealer sitting there patiently smiling with her wide green eyes.

“Youse the blackjack dealer?” The statement wasn’t so much a question as an expression of surprise.

“Yep. My name is Sweetie Belle, would you like to buy some chips?”

Both stallions stood there slack-jawed, but a job was a job. “Umm I’m Nunzio and this is my partner Mugsy. We’re from Manehattan.” Nunzio said, unsure exactly how to proceed.

“Oooh, my sister’s been to Manehattan. Nice to meet you!” Sweetie said, her cheerful smile never wavering.

“Pleasure to makes your acquaintance. Now you see, we’s here to make sure nothing bad happens to this here casino,” Nunzio said, hoping not to have to explain himself further. If she really was a casino employee, surely she would have been briefed on the need to pay for protection.

“Oh, that’s very nice of you.”

The two stallions stood there expecting Sweetie to hand over a bag of bits, but the filly just sat there smiling at them. “What my partner means to say is that it would be a shame if something bad was to happen, and we can make sure that it doesn’t,” Mugsy chimed in.

“Well don’t let me stop you, unless you need me to do something? Should I move my table? Is it in the way?”

The two stallions stood there dumbfounded. Usually they walked in, gave their thinly veiled threat, and the victim paid up. “Just a second miss, I needs ta conference with my partner for a sec.”

The two stallions retreated to the corner as the crowd quickly surrounded the table again.

“Mugsy, she ain’t gettin it.”

“I know Nunzio, but what are we supposed ta do?”

“Boss sez if anypony don’t play ball we’s supposed to whack em.”

“Buck that, I ain’t whackin no filly. I’m a hitpony, not a monster.”

“You wanna go and tell da boss we’s didn’t do what we was contracted to do?”

“No. But I don’t wanna whack no kid either.”

The two ponies looked over at Sweetie Belle, who sat at the table with her ever present smile, dealing cards and playing to the crowd, cheering excitedly when a customer won and sticking out her lower lip with a pained ‘I’m sowwy’ when they didn’t.

Nunzio let out a groan at a particularly adorable pout of condolence from the dealer.“Ok here’s what we’s gonna do. We tells da boss that the dealer was a real heavy badass.” He stole another furtive glance at Sweetie Belle. “Ex special forces, Liam Neighlson style, particular set of skills and what have you. We took a run at ‘em and he beat us up good, told us to spread the word that the Lucky Horseshoe is off limits.”

“Ain’t nopony gonna believe that, we don’t look roughed up none.”

“Well yeahs numbskull. We’s gonna halfta rough eachother up.”

“But my daughters Cuitiesceneria is on sunday, I can’t show up looking all busted.”

“It’s either that or disappoints da boss. Do youse wants to be the one who tells him the real reason why we don’t have his protection money?”

The bells and whistles of the slot machines combined with the adoration of the crowd muffled the pained groans and thumps of the two stallions in the alley as Sweetie Belle sat blissfully unaware at her table, waiting for her next customers.

The Nuclear Option

Royal Flush sat in his office after opening night feeling quite pleased with himself. The opening of his casino was a big hit. After directing the mob enforcers to Sweetie Belle, he hadn’t seen or heard from them the rest of the night, and his ledger balanced nicely, with no “protection money” expense in red ink. Of course he knew that he couldn’t sit back on his haunches; vice was ever present, especially at a casino, but this time he was determined to thwart his longtime nemesis.

Reflecting on the evening, he began to reminisce about the strange journey that brought him here. It all started when he was a little colt; even before he got his cutie mark, he loved to play games. Not sports, he was rather small for his age and didn’t particularly enjoy running outside, but card games, board games, anything involving chance, strategy and rules he leapt at the opportunity to play. And then one day, when a friend suggested they play for money, his life changed. Sure, games were enjoyable when you were playing for fun, or at most bragging rights, but with real tangible rewards on the line, stakes that both players cared about, the game became something more.

It was during that first game for money, he fondly recalled, that his cutie mark appeared. He was playing poker with a group of friends, not high stakes, only a few bits, but still real cold hard cash. Five card draw was the game, no wilds. It was late in the game, down to him and his best friend, Quick Splint, who of course became a doctor; he remembered the surge of excitement he felt when he flipped over his hand and saw the cards staring back at him; ace, queen, jack, and a ten of spades combined with an ugly looking five of hearts. He eyed his friend slash opponent; his face was a perfectly blank stare. In that moment he knew, just knew that this was his hand to lose. His friend called the big blind, passing control to him. He decided not to waste time with the familiar series of incremental raises; smiling confidently he pushed his small pile of bits into the middle of the table.

Far from being cowed, Quick laughed at him and matched the gesture. “I’ll play these,” he had said with a smirk. The future doctor flipped his cards face up with the relaxed confidence and panache of a pony who knew he had the better hand, and for the moment, he did. Royal Flush found himself staring at a full house, nines over jacks. Not an unbeatable hand but a very good one nevertheless.

“I’ll take one,” was his reply at the time. He flipped over his four matching cards and looked his friend in the eye. Both colts knew that the game was over; either he would draw the king of spades and win, or draw anything else and lose. His hoof shook as he reached for the card on the top of the deck. He hesitated for a moment with his hoof on the top card, he took a deep breath and slowly flipped it over, unable to watch his fate, but equally unable to look away. An instant, yet a lifetime later, he read the king of spades and rejoiced.

He felt a warm glow. He had won. He had put his faith in the cards, and they had rewarded him. Far from being dejected, his friend smiled at him. “Good game buddy, you might want to get yourself to a mirror.” He had been so wrapped up in winning that he had failed to register the soft glow coming from his flank that he was now acutely aware of. He wheeled around to see a shiny spade emblazoned on his flank, the pitch black standing out against his alabaster white coat.

The next day he went to the town hall and changed his name to Royal Flush, a more fitting moniker, and set out to fulfill his destiny; but like so many young colts, he quickly found that the world of gambling was most decidedly not run on sunshine and rainbows.

No, the world of gambling was run on two things: dirty money and sex. Those two things seeped into every aspect of the lifestyle Royal Flush loved. When he worked in Las Pegasus as a blackjack dealer, he quickly learned that casino’s didn’t make enough money from games, even though the house always had the odds in their favor, to stay open. Casinos made their real money by using those games as to launder money for the mob and also provide a legitimate business to front the mob's other nefarious dealings. Every casino had a mob consigliore on staff overseeing the family’s interests. “Mares of the evening” stalked the casino bars offering their services to drunken patrons with both the mob and the casino taking a cut. Backroom poker games and negotiations offered another chance for the house to take a cut, and some families had been known to run their own games with odds that were even more skewed than normal, or outright crooked, because who was there to complain to.

As a lowly dealer, Royal Flush was in no position to change anything, but early on, he vowed to one day run a casino free of the tawdry influences of organized crime and sex for hire. His first venture, the Saddlebag, had gone bust quickly. When he refused to play ball with the mob, they quickly set about ruining his business, smashing his slot machines and intimidating both his patrons and his employees. And a surprising number of patrons stayed away anyway when they found out that his bar was kept free of “escorts”.

His lesson learned, he escaped to Ponyville in the hopes of starting fresh. Ponyville offered several reasons that he assumed would make it a refuge from the plagues that ravaged legalized gambling. For one, Ponyville was a small town, with no crime to speak of. And even better, Princess Twilight herself lived there. Surely even the mob would think twice about attempting to set up shop in her backyard. But never in his wildest dreams did he possibly imagine that the answer to his problems would just show up on his doorstep in the guise of the most ridiculously adorable filly ever. He had been prepared for a long, hard slog in his war against vice to save the thing he loved; now he had been handed the most powerful force he had ever seen, and he had no intention of wasting it.

***

“I’m on vacation and I was hoping I that you would have ah..somepony to play with on staff. Y’know, a filly who likes to have a good time, wouldn’t mind coming up to my room for a little private gaming with me and my buddy.”

Royal Flush listened to the request, trying to hide his disgust. Why should ponies assume that he kept prostitutes on staff? Because other casinos did? That’s what he was railing against. Last night he had politely fielded a request for “private entertainment” and told anypony who asked that no, he didn’t offer that service, but tonight his answer would be different. It was once again time to deploy the nuclear option.

“As a matter of fact we have just the pony. Her name is Sweetie Belle and she can be up to your room within the hour.”

“She sounds perfect.”

“Oh she is.”

Sweetie Belle reported for her second shift at the casino eager for her to continue her adventure, so she was surprised when Royal Flush asked her back into his office rather than sending her out to the blackjack table.

“Hi Mr. Flush. Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“Nope, I just have a different job for you tonight.”

Sweetie smiled her impossibly devastating smile. “You can count on me sir!”

“I knew I could. A guest has requested a private dealer to play games with him and a friend. Since you’re the most fun dealer we have, I told him I’d send you up.”

“Oh wow, umm are you sure I’m ready? I’ve only been working here for a day.”

“You’ll be fine.” Royal Flush walked over to a cabinet, and much to Sweetie’s surprise, he pulled out a few board games along with a deck of cards and poker chips. “Here, this should be everything you need to have a good time. If you need something else just call down to the front desk and I’ll send someone up. The guests are named Braeburn and Thunderlane, and they are in room 202.”

“Yes sir,” Royal Flush could only grin as she bounded out of his office with the games stuffed in her saddlebags.

Sweetie knocked on the door, only to be greeted by two very surprised looking stallions. “Can I help you? I don’t want to buy any cookies if that’s why you’re here.” Braeburn said hoping to get rid of this uninvited guest before his entertainment arrived.

Sweetie was caught off guard; they knew she was coming right? “Are you Braeburn and Thunderlane? I’m Sweetie Belle. Mr. Flush sent me up here to play some games. I brought Monopony and Snakes and Ladders and Candyland, but if you have a game you’d rather play, we can do that too. I’m a real fast learner.”

For the second time, Sweetie found two stallions looking at her slackjawed. “Just a second there Sweetie, I’m uhh gonna talk to my buddy here for a sec.” Thunderlane said ushering a still slackjawed Braeburn into the room.

The pair retreated into the room and began to speak in a low whisper.

“This is soo not what I had in mind. I should report this guy to the better business bureau.” Braeburn whispered in a tone of voice that was somwhere between annoyed and angry .

“What are ya goin’ say? I ordered a hooker and he sent up a filly with board games. Who do you think gets arrested in that scenario?” Thunderlane replied, playing the voice of reason.

“But...”

Sweetie Belle couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she was beginning to get worried that they didn’t want to play with her, and it would be bad for the casino if ponies didn’t think she was fun.

“Umm please give me a chance, I’m lots of fun, everpony says so,” she said with her wide eyes and unintentionally adorable pout.

“You don’t even know what fun is,” Braeburn muttered under his breath.

“Hey look at it this way, when Gala asks what we did this weekend, you won’t have to lie to her,” Thunderlane whispered to his disappointed friend.

Braeburn let out a groan as Thunderlane turned to Sweetie Belle with a smile.

“Sorry bout that Sweetie, we couldn’t decide what we wanted to play first. Monopony okay with you?”

“Yay! I call the carriage,” Sweetie said as she happily bounced into the room, prepared for a night of fun.

Thunderlane began to set up the Monopony board as Braeburn very quickly shoved an assortment of products that he had hoped to use (that were unsuitable for the eyes of a filly) into the drawers of the nightstand.

“You forgot a pair of hoofcuffs?” Sweetie pointed out. “Did you want to play cops and robbers later?”

Braeburn turned a shade of bright red befitting his name “No, no that’s okay. Lets just play Monopony,” he said quickly, shoving the last of his own toys and games out of view..

Sweetie Belle was confused as to why anypony wouldn’t want to play cops and robbers, but she just shrugged and turned her attention back to the game board.

Author's Note

All authors love feedback. Also if you've read my other stories you might recognize the name Quick Splint. The two stories take place in different universes I just need a pony name to use.

Friends

After Braeburn found a two hundred bit charge for “private entertainment” tacked onto his bill, word quickly spread that if a patron requested “private entertainment” at the Lucky Horseshoe, they would get sent an (adorable) filly with board games. This had the intended effect of virtually ending the request for mares of the evening, but oddly it had the unintended effect of increasing the requests for private entertainment from a number of patrons who actually wanted to play board games with a filly. The two most common questions were along the lines of “Can she run our campaign for us?” and “Does she have a character, or do we have to make one for her, because our party really needs a cleric.” Royal Flush wasn’t entirely sure what these ponies were talking about but denied their request just to be on the safe side, directing anypony who pressed the issue to take it up with his new head of security, Snowflake. After that, the request for private entertainment were all but gone, and so Sweetie Belle was again sent back to the blackjack tables.

Sweetie Belle was happily hitting on 16 and below and staying on 17 and above when she saw two familiar stallions approach her table. Far from the swagger they had the first time she saw them, this time they approached her table both limping, their bodies covered in ugly bruises. Even as they approached from across the room, Sweetie could tell that they looked worse than that time Scootaloo tried to jump the Ghastly Gorge and ended up tumbling face first down the rocky cliffside.

“Hi Mugsy, Hi Nunzio. Wow, you guys look terrible, what happened?” she asked as they stopped in front of her station, still smiling because it was impossible for her to do anything without looking adorable.

“Oh uh we fell down some stairs,” Mugsy said, his eyes darting nervously back and forth.

“You should be more careful,” Sweetie gently admonished them. “Would you like to play some blackjack?”

As she studied the two stallions in front of her, she noticed that not only were they physically battered, they seemed to be genuinely scared. “Maybe later, see the thing is… we told da boss…what a good job you was doing…, and so he’s sending a ...friend of ours to come visit you,” Nunzio said, with more than a faint hint of worry to his voice.

His concern went unnoticed by the young dealer; she heard the words “good job” and “friend” and assumed that Nunzio was delivering words of praise. “That was nice of him,” she replied, pleased to be bringing in new customers.

“Yeah about that… see our friend's ...not very nice and um... we were kinda worried dat he might…hurt your feelings,” Mugsy said in the same worried tone his partner had used.

“I know a pony like that; her name is Diamond Tiara. She’s always being mean to me.”

Nunzio’s eyes narrowed until they were little more than two slits, his worries being temporarily forgotten. “Do you want us to talks to her?”

“We can be very persuasive,” Mugsy added with his patented crocodile smile.

“Oh wow, could you? I’m always telling her to be nicer, but maybe she’d listen to you. That would be great, thanks guys!” Sweetie Belle said happily. She never imagined her new casino friends could help with her bully problem, but Mugsy and Nunzio knew all about safety, so maybe they could convince Diamond that it wasn’t safe to be a bully or something. At this point she was willing to try anything.

Mugsy smiled a genuine smile; it looked unnatural on him for some reason. “Now that we’re doing you a favor, maybe you could do us a favor? See if you helped us out, den we could tell the boss that we’re all nice and friendly like.”

“And if we’re all friendly like, our other friend would be your friend too, and den everypony would be friends,” Nunzio finished.

“I’m not really sure what you mean, but I’m always willing to help a friend. Consider me at your service,” Sweetie Belle said with her best can-do attitude.

“Great, da boss has been looking for a way into da casino game,” Mugsy started.

“We don’t have a ‘casino game’, we have lots of games at our casino. He can come and play them. I’m even available for private entertainment!” Sweetie Belle said proudly.

Mugsy’s eye narrowed again, but a head shake from Nunzio returned them to their usual state. “What my partner means to say is dat the boss would like to have his own table here in da casino, and being a very busy guy, he would need a dealer to run said table, and so maybe you could help wit dat.”

“Oh I’m not sure I can do that. When I’m working I think I’m supposed to be where Royal Flush tells me to be,” Sweetie Belle said, disappointed that she was so far proving to be unhelpful to her new friends.

“What about when you’re not working?” Mugsy asked, desperately searching for a solution to the problem Sweetie Belle didn’t realize she had.

“Well I have school, and I still want to hang out with my friends. I don’t get to see them as much since I started here,” Sweetie Belle replied.

The three ponies stood around the blackjack table for a minute, though with vastly different goals in mind. Sweetie Belle still wasn’t sure what her new friends were looking for, so she couldn’t offer suggestions on how she might be able to help them, whereas the two stallions were trying to figure out a way to align Sweetie with their interests to avoid her being visited by an infamous mob hitpony. Suffice it to say, their thought processes were radically divergent.

“Okay, what if you still worked here at this table, but say once a week, you just changed the rules a little bit?”

“What do you mean?” Sweetie asked.

“Well ponies like winning right?” Mugsy said.

“Sure they do!” Sweetie said, pleased that she could agree with her new friends.

“So what if, once a week for about 10 minutes, you changed da rules so that the house hits on 17 and above, and stays on 16 and below? You wouldn’t tell anypony when you’re doing it, except us, and we won’t play, and then you’d have a lot more happy customers,” Mugsy finished his explanation, hoping he wouldn’t have to lie his way out of explaining that during those ten minutes a mob representative would of course make some very large bets.

“Kinda like a secret ‘make ponies happy game’?” Sweetie asked her eyes full of wonder at the possibilities. Royal Flush had said that her job was to make ponies happy, and this seemed like a fun way to do that.

“Exactly like that,” Mugsy said with another unnatural-looking grin.

Sweetie appeared to smile for a minute before a more somber expression settled on her face. “Sorry guys, I think I should stick to the rules Royal Flush told me. It’s like Mrs. Cheerilee always says, ‘the rules are there for a reason’,” she said with a note of pride in her voice.

Not sure who Cheerilee was (other than she apparently was partly responsible for foiling their plan), and out of ideas Mugsy and Nunzio sulked off with the knowledge that Sweetie Belle was soon due a very unpleasant visitor .

Author's Note

Sweetie Belle unwittingly sic-ing mob enforcers on DT is my favorite thing I've ever written. Sorry about the wait, the next chapter should come faster.

Shadow

On Friday, Sweetie Belle woke up, had breakfast, and was happily skipping off to school before her shift at the casino when her routine was interrupted by a familiar voice saying very unfamiliar words.

“Hi Sweetie Belle. Wow, you look really nice today,” Diamond Tiara said without any of her usual scorn adorning her voice.

To say that Sweetie was taken aback was an understatement. Convinced that this was some kind of trick by her nemesis, Sweetie Belle reacted cautiously. “Umm, why are you saying hi to me?” she asked, still wary of Diamond’s intentions.

Diamond Tiara let out laugh that was a little too enthusiastic to be real; it was a disturbing sound. “Because we’re such good friends, silly. Here, you should have my lunch money,” she said as she reached into her saddle bag and took out a small bag of bits, tossing it over to Sweetie Belle.

“Thanks?” Sweetie said, catching the bits with her magic and lowering it into her own saddle bags.

“No problem, I don’t mind because we’re such great friends,” Diamond said, letting out another round of overly enthusiastic laughter. “Yep, that’s us, two peas is a pod. So, friend, why didn’t you tell me you knew Mugsy and Nunzio?”

“Oh yeah, we met at the casino. Nice guys, they’re even sending more of their friends to visit me.”
Diamond Tiara swallowed a lump of fear, “More of them?”

“Uh huh. It’s always great to make new friends. I should invite Mugsy and Nunzio to the next crusaders meeting, and then they could be Appleblooms and Scootaloo’s friends too.”

“Blank Flank and Los-I mean oh goody, I’m sure the five of you will have lots of fun,” Diamond said with forced cheer. “Did Mugsy and Nunzio say anything about Daddy’s shipment? He’s been waiting for it.”

“No, they didn’t say anything about that. Do they do safety inspections for your Dad too?”

“Safety-? Uh, yeah, that’s what they do. They go around making sure the store is safe and that all of Daddy’s competitors are safe too, like that one that burned down last month. They were definitely unsafe,” Diamond said, deciding to play along with the ridiculous cover story Sweetie Belle insisted on. When she rose to the rank of Don, the first thing she would do would be to order Sweetie Belle dead! Her family dead! Her house burned to the ground! Then she’d go there in the middle of the night-

“I like Mugsy and Nunzio. Well, there’s Applebloom and Scootaloo. I guess I’ll see you later,” Sweetie Belle interrupted before Diamond could finish her thought process and ran off to join her friends.

Later that evening, after school had let out and Sweetie was again working her table, a stallion in a low brimmed fedora walked into the casino. Unbeknownst to the patrons, he didn’t wear the hat because of style; he wore it to conceal one of the most dangerous unicorn horns in Equestria. Magic in Equestria was primarily used for benign purposes; teleporting short distances, levitating objects, lighting candles and other minor chores for example. However the same energy that lit a wick or made a plate appear on the table could very easily be turned toward more sinister purposes.

In a world where dragons, manticores and living gods of chaos were very real, it took a lot to scare most ponies; therefore, it was a mark of pride to the stallion that ponies only spoke about him in hushed whispers even though very few ponies knew he existed. His given name was Shadow, which was ominous enough, but to many he was simply the boogiemare; a threat envoked to frighten those who would cross the mob. “Do what you’re told or the boogiemare will come for you.” was a line uttered more than once, and it was almost always effective. The royal guards had been searching for him for years with no luck. He never left a body or a witness. Ponies on his list, simply vanished, never to be heard from again.

Since he arrived in Ponyville, Shadow was very mindful of treading lightly. There were rumors that the Equestrian Intelligence Agency’s (EIA) most notorious assassin had retired here, and that she took intrusions on her turf very seriously. He simply wanted to find his target, eliminate him, and then get the heck out of dodge before attracting any unwanted attention.

As he walked into the casino, the ambient noise dropped a few decibels; even though most of the patrons didn’t know who he was, he radiated an aura about him that could only be interpreted as “stay out of my way”

His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the room, as was second nature. First he looked for anyone who was a potential threat. That scan left him with two possibilities: the white, overly muscled stallion in the back, and a lithe looking mare who moved a little too gracefully not to have some form of training in something. Surprisingly, he didn’t see anyone who fit the description of his target. No worries, maybe the dealer changes his appearance. It’s what I would do. Checkcheck. Next he identified the exits; there were three he could reasonably get to, one front, one back and one side door, and a forth through the kitchen that he could try if it became necessary. Finally, he identified all the potential cover and distractions available to him, fifteen total. I’ve always liked casinos. Lots of options.

Situation assessed, he began to make his way toward the blackjack tables. At first glance, he could tell the dealer looked smaller than he would have imagined. Can’t get overconfident; deadly things can come in small packages. As he got closer, it became obvious that the dealer was a female unicorn. Still, he kept his guard up. Mares are just as deadly as stallions; a magic bolt kills just the same. Finally, he was close enough for a solid visual inspection. Clearly his foe was well trained in the art of disguise, because if he didn’t know any better, he would swear that the blackjack dealer, who had thoroughly beat up two mob enforcers, was, in fact, a filly. It’s a shame I have to kill you. In another life, we could have been great friends, he thought as he approached the table. Aware that it was possible this wasn’t the same dealer- in fact, it was likely not the same dealer- he decided to investigate before pulling the proverbial trigger. No sense in killing someopony who he wasn’t being paid for.

“Maybe you could help me? I’m looking for the blackjack dealer at this establishment,” he said with a drawl that Sweetie couldn’t quite recognize.

“You found her. Hi, I’m Sweetie Belle!” Sweetie said, flashing her heart melting “new customer smile”.

Shadow was taken aback by the openness that this mare had addressed him with. Even ponies he didn’t know tended to speak quietly to him. This boisterousness was new to him. Undeterred, he answered in an affected drawl, “That’s nice, but my friends were in here a few days ago. Who was the blackjack dealer then?”

“Still me. Are you Mugsy’s and Nunzio’s friend? They said you might be coming. You know, you should really be nicer to ponies.” Sweetie Belle felt bad about admonishing a customer, but Mugsy and Nunzio had apparently helped with her bully problems so maybe she could do the same.

For the first time since he was a colt, Shadow was unsure how to respond. He was used to ponies threatening him, and of course some tried to bargain with him- more than a few outright begged for mercy- but no pony had ever simply told him what to do, much less in such plain language. “I should be nicer?” he parroted. It was a rhetorical thought more than a question.

“Uh huh, it’s like Applejack, she’s my friend’s big sister, says, ‘You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” Sweetie said, trying to imitate Applejacks drawl and giggling at her attempt.

Standing there, Shadow had the epiphany he needed to make sense of what was happening. His opponent wasn’t some ex-Special Forces, highly trained assassin who had beaten up his co-workers. The filly standing across from him really was a filly who probably couldn’t hurt a breezy even if she tried.

Contrary to popular belief, there was no creed among assassins. He was paid to kill his target and he did it well, end of story. If he hadn’t killed a filly before, it was only because anypony who could afford his exorbitant fees had more powerful enemies than little girls. But looking down at Sweetie Bell, still smiling in her vest, he realized that he had just retired from the assassin game.

“You’re friend sounds really smart. So you know Musgy and Nunzio?” he asked.

“Uh huh, I met them when they came in to conduct the safety inspection. We had a bit of a miscommunication, but now we’re all on the same page.”

“Do you know where I might find them?”

“Um, I think they rented a room for the weekend. You could ask the front desk,” Sweetie offered, trying to be helpful.

Shadow flipped the young dealer a bit and went off to find his two ex-coworkers for his exit interview.

Author's Note

For anyone wondering about the assassin Shadow is worried about go read Just Another Day in Ponyville, and yes I can reference one of my fics in another one of my fics.

Time to shuffle off

Mugsy and Nunzio were in the process of waking up from an afternoon nap. They were under orders to keep trying to convince the “badass” blackjack dealer that working with the mob was far more profitable than working against them. Despite their protest to the higher ups that it was likely to prove futile and that maybe they should just leave Ponyville alone, their orders remained unchanged. In the absence of anything better to do, they were preparing to spend the evening at Sweetie Belle’s table. There was the slim hope they could win enough money to convince “da boss” that their trip had unexpectedly turned profitable. Not expecting anything exciting to happen, they were thusly surprised when their door flew open.

“You numbskulls, do you have any idea what you’re doing?” the mobs most deadly hitpony shouted at them.

“Umm, how’d you get in here?” squeaked Nunzio, since he was closest to the door, and therefore most likely to die first.

Shadow ignored the stupid question, as though a hitpony famous for killing highly secure targets would somehow have trouble with a lock on a third rate hotel door. “When I take a contract, I make only one promise: either the target dies, or I do. It’s why I’m still around,” he growled.

“We ain’t letting you hurt Sweetie Belle,” Mugsy replied with his most practiced glare.
Shadow rolled his eyes, causing Mugsy to reflexively take a step back. “You think you could stop me, Munzio?”

“Maybe, and it’s Mugsy,” came the mumbled reply.

“Well, you couldn’t. You and Nungsy are as dumb as a sack of bricks. Boss wants the Casino under his thumb, and you think some little filly is gonna stop him.”

“Maybe?” Nunzio said quietly with absolutely no emphasis.

“You two have done stepped in it.”

Shadow levitated his hat off of his head as his horn began to glow. A small hole began to form, its edges charring. “You take this, and you tell the boss that this is all that’s left of me. You tell him that the dealer left you alive so you could deliver this message.”

“Umm, why don’t you tell him?”

“Because I’m faking my death, you idiot. That means I’m leaving Equestria. I figure the griffin empire’s got use for a pony of my talents, and the mob don’t have representatives that far north,” Shadow said matter of factly. One of the things about being a hitpony was that you tended not to have a lot of attachments. It made the idea of uprooting your entire life surprisingly palatable.

“You could stick around and help us convince da boss to find another casino?” Nunzio said tentatively, in the hopes that the duo could enlist another ally in their quest.

“You two really are idiots. Boss ain’t gonna quit because he thinks I’m dead. He never quits. He’s gonna send more guys. And if they find out I’m not dead, they’ll fix that quicker that you can eat a cupcake. So congrats you two, I’m getting out while the gettins good, and if you two had any sense, you’d do the same, cause eventually, an even bigger numbskull than the two of you is gonna come along who doesn’t care about that cute, little filly. And they’re gonna kill you when they find out you’ve been lying.”

Leaving two nervous but still somewhat-confused stallions behind him, Shadow walked out of the room and out of the Casino, becoming another victim of an unwitting Sweetie Belle’s war on vice. He hadn’t quite reached the train station when a piercingly shrill voice almost shattered his eardrum.

“Hi!” exclaimed a pink pony who was way too happy to see him.

“Who are you?” he asked warily.

“I’m your friendly neighborhood auntie Pinkie, and you’re Shadow, but you go by another name don’tcha?”

Shadow dropped any pretense of civility. “How do you know about that?” he asked with a glare, spell at the ready.

Much to his surprise, his glare had no effect of the smile of his acoster; it remained as bright and wide as ever. “I know lots of stuff. Like about that bakery that burned down in Manehattan, the one with the family living on the top floor.”

Shadow flashed back to one of his earlier jobs. That one had been especially perilous, as the Equestrian Intelligence Agency had somehow caught wind of his presence. He had burned the bakery down because he didn’t have time to plan a proper assassination and needed a distraction to cover his tracks. But the only way that mare in front of him could have known that would be if she was there. And the only ponies who were there were the family that had burned and the EIA assassin who had been tracking him. It suddenly became very obvious who he was looking at. “You’re-”

“Your friendly neighborhood auntie Pinkie Pie, but I already told you that silly.”

It was rare that Shadow got ambushed. The knowledge that if it came down to a fight, he very well might lose induced a feeling of fear that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Much like his own reputation, there existed only whispers and rumors about the pony standing in front of him. A common refrain said that there existed no safe haven, no quarter, where you could run if Pinkamena put you on her list. The instant she marked you, you were dead. You just didn’t know it. “I don’t want trouble,” he stammered.

“That’s good, it’d be funny if you did want trouble. You’d be all ‘I’m looking for trouble’, and then I’d be all ‘well good because you found trouble’, but my name isn’t 'Trouble', it’s Pinkie Pie. Here, have a balloon.” Pinkie reached behind her back, and a bouquet of balloons suddenly appeared. As she handed them to him, the unsaid truth that those balloons could have easily been something more sinister hung in the air.

“I’m retired,” Shadow tried, hoping that his recent change of career, well, territory really, would convince the mare in front of him to let him get on with faking his own death.

“That’s good; I’m retired too, if I wasn’t, *woooosh*, there’d be all kinds of explosions going off right now. It’d be a very messy party.” That Pinkie was able to say that with a wide smile unnerved Shadow even further. “I’ve been watching you since you came to town, y’know,” she said softly.

“I haven’t hurt anypony,” Shadow blurted out, not entirely sure why.

“Yep, I know that too.” Pinkie’s voice dropped three octaves. “Which is why I’m letting you walk out of here. Time to shuffle off now, Boogiemare. Pinkie giggled at the nickname, though the sound of laughter dissipated as quickly as it arrived, leaving a more stern expression on Pinkie’s face. “Never come back to Ponyville again.”

And with that warning ringing in his ears, the mob’s most deadly hitpony hopped on a train never to be heard from again, thanks to Sweetie Belle.

Author's Note

Again if you're confused by Pinkie's appearance, go read This Story

Sorry about the wait for this one. The next one probably won't take two months.

Fish Out of Water

Mugsy and Nunzio mailed the burnt hat back just like Shadow told them to, and for the next few days, everything was quiet. Sweetie Belle continued being a blackjack dealer, unaware of the events she had set in motion, and Mugsy and Nunzio kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And drop it did. The enforcers were pacing around their hotel room when the door opened to reveal a heavyset, purple pony wearing a grey fedora.

“Boss, what are you doing here?” yelped Mugsy as he and Nunzio quickly scrambled to bow to their guest.

The pony, recognizable to all who knew him as Don Falcon, walked deliberately into the room and sat down. “Let me tell you a story. I’m sitting in my office, and I get a little package: a burnt hat telling me that my hitpony is grass food, may he rest in peace. So I says to myself, ‘who is this mook that keeps doing these things to me?’ I’m not taking his money, but still he disrespects me, like I’m some kind of jabroni.’ Then I think, ‘maybe this guy isn’t some sort of crusader; maybe he’s looking for a job. I’d like to meet him.’”

“I don’t think you want to do that, boss. She’s real dangerous.” Nunzio said, hoping to prevent this conversation from going any further.

“She?” The Don was momentarily surprised, but quickly recovered. He may have been head of a major crime family, but he wasn’t sexist. Mares could do everything stallions could as far as he was concerned. “You two go on and on about the stones on this guy,” he said, ignoring the obvious problems with that metaphor, “and now I find out she’s a mare, and I don’t even know what she looks like. Enlighten me.”

Mugsy did not get his position as a mob enforcer by being quick on his hooves. “Umm, well, she’s got a black coat with a red mane. I think she’s part alicorn,” he said, unable to come up with anything else.

The don nodded slowly. “Black and red. What’s her name?”

“Night Rider,” Mugsy said, continuing his streak of terrible lies.

“Since she seems amenable to keeping you two numbskulls alive, I want you to set up a parlay. Use that restaurant across town, Olive’s Garden. It’s nice public place; I’ll rent it out for the afternoon. ”

With that, the Don left, and Mugsy and Nunzio were face with an impossible conundrum. On the one hoof, one simply did not disappoint “da boss”. So if said boss was renting out a restaurant so that he could have a face-to-face meeting with a red and black half-alicorn, then there’d better be a red and black half-alicorn waiting at that restaurant. Of course, the other hoof was that red and black half-alicorns didn’t exist.

Mugsy and Nunzio sulked towards Sweetie Belle’s table right before her shift was scheduled to start. In a casino, it was common to see ponies down to the felt, short stacked and long odds against them, looking for that one card in the deck that could save them. They never imagined they would be one of those ponies.

As they approached, Sweetie could clearly tell something was wrong with her new friends. They looked worse than Apple Bloom did when she told her sister she didn’t really like apples that one time. (She, of course, wasn’t thinking clearly. Apple Bloom LOVED APPLES, and WOULD NEVER DREAM OF NOT LIKING THEM!)

“We have a problem,” Nunzio said weakly.

Sweetie put on a brave face. Mugsy and Nunzio may not have been official crusaders, but she liked to think of them has honorary ones, and the crusaders lived by the code of “All for one and one for all”.

“Don’t worry, you guys are my friends, and my friends problems are my problems. What can I do to help?”

Nunzio glanced at his partner hoping for some help, but received only a blank stare in return. “See, it’s… unsafe to have a filly working at a casino, so we told our boss that you were a red and black half-alicorn named Night Blade.”

Sweetie couldn’t help but giggle at such a terrible lie, as though such a pony might actually exist in Equestria. I mean why not make her Celestia’s secret other sister while they were at it?

“Why’d you do that?”

“Well, umm, if he found out you were a regular filly, you could, uh, lose your job, and then we’d be ki-fired also.”

“Oh. It’s still not nice to lie to ponies.”

“We know, but now the boss wants to meet you, so we was kinda hoping you might play along with it.”

Sweetie Belle scratched her head. Cheerilee always said that lying was bad, but sometimes you had to lie. Like when Rarity asked if her dress made her look fat.

“Hmm, I do enjoy dressing up, and I really like working at the casino.” Sweetie Belle considered the request some more. The crusaders were always doing stuff like this, and Twilight had lied to Trixie that one time about that amulet, so maybe this situation was kind of like that. “Deal! Let’s get started. We’ve got a lot of work to do if we are going to make me look so silly.”

Sweetie left a note for Royal Flush saying that she’d be late for her shift, but that she was out doing official casino stuff with Mugsy and Nunzio’s boss.

Mugsy ran out for some supplies, and soon, Sweetie had dyed her mane red and painted her coat jet-black. Some step-up horseshoes made her look taller than she was really was, and thanks to the skills Rarity had taught her, she was able to use makeup to make her look a little older. Even disguised, however, there was no denying that she was adorable, but at least she looked more like the pony Mugsy hastily described to his boss.

Mugsy and Nunzio walked with her to the restaurant. Ponies on the street stopped and stared, but glares from her bodyguards prevented any of them from saying anything to Sweetie. The trio entered the restaurant to find it completely empty, save for the don sitting along the back wall and a very nervous looking waiter. With a flick of his hoof, he dismissed Mugsy and Nunzio, who, while nervous about leaving Sweetie alone with the Don, knew better than to disagree with the boss. For better or worse, it was the only move they had. Sweetie Belle, not quite aware of the danger she was in, sat down across from the head of the Falcon crime family.

Don Falcon started to speak in a slow drawl, wasting no time with introductions. “Do you know how I got where I am?”

Sweetie shook her head, unsure what he meant by the question. She assumed he took the train to Ponyville and then walked, though she guessed he could have taken a carriage.

“When I say I’m going to do something, it means I’m going to do it. So if I say I’m getting pasta for lunch, then I’m eating pasta. And if I say that nopony operates a casino in Equestria without kicking in a little protection money, then I get my piece of the action. Do you know what would happen if ponies thought I wasn’t a stallion of my words?

Sweetie shook her head again, still not sure what any of this had to do with being safe.

“Ponies would think they could put one over on me. And then I’m a fish out of water. Do you know what that means?”

“Yep, it’s when you’re in an unfamiliar situation,” Night Rider Blade Sweetie said with a big smile at finally knowing the right answer.

Don Falcon pounded his hoof on the table, the loud thud reverberating off the walls of the empty restaurant. “A fish out of water is dead! That’s what that means!”

Night Sweetie’s eyes started to water. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do a good job,” she sniffled.

It is said that the gravitational pull of black hole is the strongest force in the universe. It’s a force so overwhelming that not even light can escape its grasp. Well, those scientists have clearly never studied Sweetie Belle, because even the largest, most powerful black hole would surrender all of the light it had trapped in an effort to make Sweetie Belle stop crying. And with that, organized crime in Equestria took its biggest hit since the guards indicated Stallion Canterpone for tax evasion.

Even mob bosses, cruel and unfeeling as they were, were equine, and there wasn’t a pony alive who could stand against a crying Sweetie Belle. Against such an overwhelming power, the Don folded like a cheap card table. “Don’t cry.What if you bought the rights to the casino from me? Let’s say one bit?”

Sweetie Belle sniffled loudly, wiping her eyes. “I don’t have any money on me.”

Don Falcon slid a bit across the table. “There, now you just give it back to me, and I can tell everypony that you bought the rights to this casino from me. I save face, and you can go on being a dealer without worrying about my guys visiting you.”

“Aww, I was hoping to get some ice cream with that,” Sweetie pouted, still not really knowing what was going on.

The Don slid another bit across the table. “Now would you like to buy the protection racket from me?”

“You have to be nicer to Mugsy and Nunzio,” Sweetie said, having no clue what was going on, but knowing when she had a grownup where she wanted them.

“Those lunkheads!” Noticing the beginnings of another set of tears, Don Falcon quickly backpedalled. “They can stay here as part of the security staff. I’ll still pay them, of course.”

“Okay!” Sweetie said cheerfully. She slid one of the bits back to the Don and happily took the other one.

Before the Don could consummate the deal, Rarity and Royal Flush burst through the door, panting heavily.

“Hello, Rarity,” Don Falcon said, surprised to see his favorite tailor.

Rarity recoiled in shock at seeing both the familiar stallion and her sister dressed in a dreadful color scheme. “Oh, hello Don Falcon, I didn’t realize my sister was meeting with you. I assumed she was meeting with Don Ironhoof.”

“And I didn’t know you two were related. Understandable mistakes all around, it seems. Are we still on for dinner on your next visit to Manehattan?”

“I wouldn’t miss it, darling. Well, I feel better now. So sorry for the intrusion, we’ll just be going now.”

“It’s quite okay, my dear. In fact, I was just leaving. She’s a shrewd negotiator, that one. She must get that from her sister,” the Don said, not wanting to reveal what had actually happened.

“You flatter me,” Rarity replied with a small curtsey.

The Don tipped his fedora at both Sweetie and Rarity, offered a nod to Royal Flush and quietly left the restaurant, leaving the three ponies alone in the back room. As soon as he left, Sweetie began to glow a bright white.

“Why, I do believe you just got your cutie mark!” Royal Flush exclaimed with a smile after the glare had subsided.

Sweetie wheeled around, but without a mirror present, she was unable to get a clear look at her new feature. “What is it?” she asked, imagining that it must be something like a bit or a scale because she was clearly so good at negotiating things.

“It’s a kitten licking an ice-cream cone.” Royal Flush said as he got a better look at the mark.

“I don’t get it,” Sweetie said, scrunching her face.

“It’s the most adorable cutie mark I’ve ever seen, dear,” Rarity said.

“You mean my special talent is being cute?”

“It would appear so.”

“Fiddlesticks!”

Author's Note

I got inspired to finish this story, so yay, now it has an ending.

I'll admit that it's a little rushed, but it was always going to end with Sweetie Belle getting her cutie mark in being cute, we just got there a little faster because I couldn't keep telling the same joke over and over again.

A final thanks to both my pre-readers and editors, as well as the idea exchange.

I write other stuff so if you're looking for something else to read maybe start there.

Also I've written a light hearted Scootaloo story, and a light hearted Sweetie Belle story. It seems like I need an Apple Bloom tale to complete the trio. Any suggestions?