Lament of a Toy Maker
-1917-
Case Closed sighed, tapping ash out of the end of his cigar onto the ground, as he sat across from another pony.
The pony in question, a thin, lanky unicorn, was in chains, though not in prison stripes. He had a short blonde, a slate gray coat, and his eyes were covered by thick black glasses that he'd magically fused to his face some time ago.
His name was Short Circuit, or so the case file said. Germane national, spoke Equestrian. One brother in the Equestrian Navy. Was smart, went to college. Some...inventor or something for a Canterlot toy company.
So why was he in chains?
"Alright," Case sighed, taking a final drag on his cigar, before tossing it into the trash can in the corner of the room. "So tell me again why you were arrested mister Circuit."
Unlike his name may have suggested, Case was a lawyer, though he had been part of a forensics team at one point.
Circuit tilted his head to one side, then squinted and stuck his tongue out as if thinking of something important. A pause, then Circuit finally spoke up. "Are you...Germane? You certainly look it."
Case frowned, and nearly slapped a palm to his head in frustration. "No. For the fourth time today, I'm not Germane. I'm from Canterlot. (i)Canterlot.(/i) Got it?"
"Sure, sure." Circuit shrugged, not really caring.
Case growled. "Answer the question."
Circuit stuck out his tongue again, mocking now. "Why should I tell you?"
"Because one," case replied, now angry. "I'm your defense attorney. Two, I am not a patient pony, and three, if you don't I'll personally throttle you!"
"Fine, fine, angry stallion! Meine Gott." Circuit put one handcuffed hand up to his chin, actively thinking. "Well, once upon a month ago, I ran design work for a...certain, undisclosable toy company."
"Undisclosable? You worked for Fancy Pants, everypony knows that." Case snorted, contemplating lighting a second cigar.
"..." Circuit blinked, then shook his head. "Ja, whatever." He muttered, then continued, unfazed. "Well, Herr pants disliked my designs, and fired me."
"Why didn't he like your designs?" Case questioned, wondering if he could find a lead hidden amongst all the babble this stallion spouted off. Or even a plausible defense, really.
"Because he lacked vision, and imagination!" Circuit howled, like a wounded dog.
'Fancy's disapproval must have really mucked up this stallion's brain.' Case thought to himself, as he lit his second cigar. "What were your designs like that made him have no...vision?" Case questioned further.
"Oh, you know, fun things, like foal-dolls with buzz-saws, and Knives-in-the boxes." Circuit sighed, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Silently, Case made note that the pony before him was insane. Theoretically, he could plead mental instability and have Short Circuit placed in an Insanitorium- Wittenau, probably, seeing as the stallion was Germane.
Circuit continued, reclining in the interrogation chair, feet up on the desk. "But I wasn't just some nopony, Somepony there doing time," he sat back up straight, slamming his cuffed hands down on the desk. "Those fat bastards needed me! Me and my brilliant mind!"
There was a crazed look in his eyes; he didn't give Case time to form any thoughts; he kept giving his story. "That night, I wept more than I ever had. I was enraged. How dare those assholes fire ME of all ponies!"
He stopped, and grinned, though the grin was...deranged to say the least. "So I packed my explosives. Brother always said I loved explosions too much."
He stood up from the chair, and began pacing, as Case watched in mute shock.
"They challenged me, and I showed them all! I made that wretched company fall down, down, down! Off it's damned pedestal! And how did I do it? I invaded the factory with an army of toys! Toys! It was so FUN! The most I'd had since I left Wittenau!"
He laughed, a strange, slightly strangled laugh, as if something was choking him.
He slammed his handcuffed hands down on the desk, continuing. "I enchanted them all. They attacked and attacked and attacked. Well...until all the ponies inside fell down as hard as that miserable factory. Then I heard the pegasi calling as the guard surrounded every corner of the factory!" He shoved away from the desk, pacing quickly about the room. "I had to think quickly! Guard everywhere, then-!" He stopped in one corner, as the memories played back out in his mind. "Gasoline! Sweet, precious gasoline! Not coal, not magic, pure, unadulterated OIL." He broke down into laughter for a moment, hunched over, just standing there.
Then, he continued, stalking back over to the desk. "It was them or me! Them or me! THEM or ME!" He slammed his hands mightily down upon the desk, leaving a small crack in the oak wood. "I set off those damned explosives! BOOM! No more factory! No more guards! No more problems!" He stopped, breathing heavily, and staring Case Closed in the eyes. There was a tense pause, and finally, Short Circuit sunk back into the chair.
"But, alas, I was detained, and they've labelled me criminally insane." He was grinning, despite the tirade. He'd enjoyed it all.
Case Closed sat shakily out in the hall, attempting to light a fourth cigar. His nerves were shot to pieces. Looking back inside, Case watched as Circuit played with his handcuffs, slowly pulling his hands apart, then quickly ramming them back together.
A royal guard nearly knocked the attorney over.
"Hey, watch it!" Case growled, dusting his suit off.
"Oh, my apologies sir, I-uh... I left my service pistol in the interrogation room." The guard muttered, twirling his thumbs.
"Are you kidding me? Why would you leave a gun in there?!" Case gaped in horror.
"The holster is enchanted! Only a unicorn can pick it up!" The guard shot back.
"Why though?! Why was it there in the first place?!"
The guard blushed. "I...er....uh... I-uh... I may have...made it with my fillyfriend last night." He looked away, absolutely embarassed.
Cold resisted the overwhelming urge to drive his fist through the guard's face. "Then it's a damn good thing Short Circuit has a magic suppressor on."
The guard froze stiff. He was gazing through the window. His legs had locked, as had his arms, and his eyes were pinpricks. Cold Case followed his gaze...
...to Short Circuit, who having broken free of his handcuffs-he was a toymaker after all, he had ways of opening hard to open items, such as broken jack-in-the boxes that had clamped down on some pony's finger- had removed the horn suppressor, and was now holding the handgun in question.
Case Closed's throat ran dry.
Short Circuit fired four of the five rounds in the handgun randomly, as if caught up in a memory again. Then, he slunk over to the door, grinning like a madpony. He stopped, and stared directly at Case Closed.
"Don't worry my friend. The secret is safe with me."
And then he blew his own brains out.
Weeks later, Case Closed still hadn't figured out the 'secret' Short Circuit had spoken about. The matter had weighed upon him heavily. The shock had made him unable to even pick up a handgun, let alone fire one. He quit smoking. Now, he drank coffee to ward off the nicotine addiction.
Case took a sip of coffee, then paused. He stared at the ceramic mug. Black coffee, as he drank it without cream or sugar, stared back.
Black coffee.
Black.
Black gold.
...
Oil.
Case quietly, and calmly sat the mug down. Freaking out about it would do his frayed nerves no good.
Oil. Short Circuit had burned the toy factory down with Oil.
A material so rare and hard to process, that the only way to gain access to it in any large quantity was via royal sanction.
So why did a toy company have oil?
Case Closed returned his coffee mug to his mouth, and took another sip.
The whole situation was as dirty as the oil itself, but with no leads, it would stay that way for now.
As he passed his parlor, Case stared at the .43 caliber revolver hanging on the wall- his father's pistol.
Case Closed quickly left the parlor behind him.
Perhaps he would have Somepony wall that room off later in the week.
"The distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success."
-Bruce Feirstein
Author's Note
Once upon time
On the assembly line
Ran my brilliant designs
Made of plastic
Then the factory called
They said "we are appalled"
We feel your new designs
Are too drastic
What, babies with buzz saws?
These bakers in charge
They lacked vision
And imagination
Challenge me will you?
Well I'll show you all!
I'll see to it this
Wretched company falls!
I'm not just some nobody
Here doing time
You Fat Bastards need me!
And my brilliant mind!
