Life's Left Hook

"Speaking of that," Cadance says as an afterthought, turning around, "doctor?!"

A very disgruntled and irritated grumblegroan comes from the bedroom.

"I need you to take Trixie and Scootaloo downstairs into the lobby for me! I have some important business to attend to."

"Anon's pants don't count," comes the irritated reply.

Cadance, a bit flustered, yells back.

"H-Hey! That's not it! The Crystal Empire isn't easy to rule from a distance, you know!"

"Vhy do you need a Crystal -Empire- vhen ze biggest gem in ze vorld is in hoof's reach?"

Aw, doc...

"A fair point," she retorts, "but mine still stands."

"Okay, okay, sí, I'll take ze drunkard and ze filly to ze lobby for you," she mutters, emerging from the bedroom and coming to the living room.

Trixie seems to have burning ears, and comes to the living room as well.

The doctor goes straight for the door.

"Come come, you two. No sense in vasting time. I heard of a pinball machine in ze lobby."

That grabbed Scootaloo's attention damn quick.

Soon, she's right beside the other two mares, smiling.

"Oh, uh, doc, take, uh... These."

You reach in the box and pull out the pair of rancid squirt guns.

She reaches for them and looks at them in horror.

"Merda sacra! Did you actually!"

"Eeyup."

The doctor snarls, and looks at the squirt guns wide-eyed.

"I suppose I could, but zere isn't enough bleach or alcohol in ze vorld to sterilize zis..."

With that, she turns around and trots out the door.

Scootaloo and Trixie follow in tow, and the little filly closes the door behind her.

"Anonymous, that's disgusting," Cadance says, snarling a bit as she stares at the door.

"Well, we were out of water, and some kids were beating the crap out of someone. Scootaloo was happy to stop them."

Cadance takes a double take.

"Wait, what?"

You smile, laughing and shaking your head.

"There were some kids wailing on another one because he read Kyuety Kats. Since Scootaloo used all of her water on a test run, we had to improvise. And it was fucking hilarious."

Cadance covers her face with her hoof, a dumb smile on her face as she tries to contain her giggling.

"That's... Stellar work, Anonymous..."

"It worked damn well. They all ran off like their tails were on fire."

"I would too, if I was getting shot at by asparagus piss!"

"Exactly!"

With that, you hear a loud knock on the door.

Cadance looks at the door, and then turns back to you.

She leans forward and gives you a quick peck on the cheek before turning to answer the door.

With a dopey smile on your face, you stand back.

The door opens, and Cadance steps back to reveal none other than Spitfire, a large crate behind her.

She stands tall and proud; her posture is absolutely impeccable, and even though she's a third of your height, it feels as if she's looking down at you.

It's actually a little scary, how stern she seems.

Her navy blue suit, adorned with various medals and decals, is damn near perfect.

Not a fold, wrinkle, or schnibble can be seen, even when you squint.

Everything from her mane to her hooves are well taken care of, and her dark shades on her snout add a finishing touch to her vibe.

She's not a mare you'd want to fuck with.

Behind her is a wooden crate, about half her height.

Nothing fancy, it seems.

Chest high, she steps into the room, her wheeled crate in tow.

"Good evening, Spitfire," Cadance says, closing the door behind the captain.

"Mmmhmm. Good evenin'," she responds, turning to look you over.

She eyes you up and down, keeping that same unreadable expression.

"So, this is the man I've heard so much about, eh?" she asks, her eyes glued on you.

Cadance nods. "That is indeed Anonymous, Captain."

Spitfire gives an affirmative nod. "I can see that you weren't lying earlier when you said his nickname was Tankmeat,"

Holy shit, Cadance actually bought that?

"but that's beside the point. Cadance, how much does he know?"

Cadance sighs.

"He knows that Shining is gone, that you're in charge, and that things are generally a tad chaotic."

And that Shining has an exotic mount.

And said exotic mount is within punting distance.

Spitfire nods again, still eyeing every little detail of you.

You can't help but feel you're being judged profusely.

"How much do you want him to know?"

"However much you're comfortable with," Cadance replies.

"Mmmhm, gotcha. So fuck all."

Bitch.

She finally turns away from you to look at Cadance.

"I'll be careful with my words, then."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and plop down on the couch.

"So, I have the gen— the delivery. It's as you asked; no harm done, nothing wrong with it. I'm sure of it."

Cadance nods.

"And I take it you took a private chariot here?"

Spitfire shakes her head.

"I flew with one other. We carried the package together."

Cadance nods again. "I see. Did he know what was inside?"

Spitfire shakes her head. "Nobody does. I made sure of it."

"Good. Now, with that out of the way, anything else we need to discuss?"

And, no doubt, with that a long, boring talk about politics will ensue.

You don't catch much of it; what has your attention right now is the box.

The big wooden box on the floor is no doubt large enough for a number of things.

Could it be a bunch of sex toys?

Documents?

A body?

The Crystal Heart?

Fuck, it could be anything.

You're too curious to not look.

But, if you look now, it sounds like Spitfire would kick your ass so hard you'd be singing soprano for a month and a half.

It's best not to look down.

Speaking of looking, another thing has caught your attention.

Although Spitfire's face and body are covered by clothes, one thing is left out in the open.

Her firm, toned ass is plain as day.

It's almost as squeezable as Octavia's.

You can even see the reflection from the light on her mark, it looks so smooth.

And, since she's at an angle, you can see past her tail and to her nethers.

Unf.

You look up and away as you see Spitfire give you an odd glance.

Hopefully she didn't see you gawking at her ass.

Finally, after another few minutes of boring speaking, you hear Spitfire say,

"Gotcha. That all, then?"

"I hope so," Cadance says. "So long as there aren't any other major issues, I should be fine."

"Roger. Now, I'll leave you to handle the box. I had better get back to the empire, stat; I don't think Soarin' is the most dependable in a leading position. The moron is probably bathing in apple pie or fucking Fleetfoot. Maybe even both, concerning he's so Moon-damned scatterbrained he can multitask that well."

"That actually sounds impressive."

Spitfire pulls down her shades and gives you a look.

"Hmmph. You should see him on the field."

She turns back to Cadance, nodding.

"I'll take my leave. You said you wanted to visit again in St. Cloppersburg for the biannual military parade, correct?"

"That is correct," Cadance says affirmatively. "Anonymous and I will be there as well."

"Sounds like a plan, Princess," Spitfire says, trotting out the door.

"Good night, Spitfire."

"G'night, Captain."

"Stay safe, Cadance."

She turns to you before closing the door behind her.

"And you, monkey man?"

"Next time I visit, you and me. Mono-a-mono. I just might have a use or three for you, if you'd be interested."

You feel a bit of pride swell through you, and you nod.

"Of course, Captain."

"Stay frosty."

And, with that, the door shuts.

The wooden box lay in the corner.

And your curiosity is at an all time high.

"And don't you dare even -think- of touching that," Cadance says, shooting you a glare.

"What, the box?"

"No, her ass!"

You start giggling to yourself, trying not to smile.

"Don't think I didn't see you staring at her rump."

"Can you blame me?"

Cadance looks down for a moment.

"Not really. But still!"

You laugh out loud, shaking your head.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Cadance. You know I wouldn't want to touch her since she'd kill me."

"She wouldn't just kill you. Your punishment would be much more severe."

"Yeah, I kinda figured," you say, walking over to the box.

Cadance power-trots over to you, stopping you in your tracks. "Ooooh, nonononono. Don't touch that either."

"Well, what the hell is inside?!" you ask, your curiosity at an all time high.

Cadance pauses for a moment, looking down.

"I... I can't tell you. Not now, anyhow."

"Well why the fuck not?"

She sighs. "Look, it's just better if you don't know, Anonymous. There's a lot going on, and I need to handle the situation."

"And you don't think you can trust me?"

She lets out yet another exasperated sigh, shooting you a half-hearted glare.

"It's for your own good, Anonymous. The last thing I want is for you to get in trouble because you're involved in politics."

This strikes an odd chord.

Trouble?

There can't be that much, can there?

Everything was, quite literally, almost perfect.

From what you read in the news, anyhow.

"Trouble? What kind of trouble could I get into?"

"Ugh, Anonymous, I... Just, please, trust me."

You sigh internally.

Whatever she's hiding from you can't be good.

Or, if it is good, it's really, really good.

Torn for a moment, you let out an actual sigh, and look at Cadance.

"Fine. If you don't think you can trust me, so be it. I guess I'll just-"

"Ugh, damn it, fine. You want me to just get rid of the damned thing?"

You look at it.

"Well, if it's important, no! I just want to know what the hell's got you so defensive!"

"And I've told you, it's best if you don't know. Do you question my judgement?"

"Yes, yes I do! If you're afraid to tell me, it can't be any good!"

"And you're damned right it isn't any good! That's why I don't want you to get involved! I'd rather have just my ass in trouble instead of both of ours!"

"Cadance, you know better than I do that I'm never letting go of that ass. I love it too much. I'm going wherever you're going."

She lets out a long, drawn out, irritated sigh.

"Fine. I'll just... I'll just toss the damned thing. I was going to get rid of it anyway," she says, reaching for the box.

You stop her, holding her back.

"No. Let me take it."

"What?"

You grab hold of the box.

"I'll take it. It's too heavy for you to be hauling around."

With a heave, you pick it up.

And it's fucking HEAVY.

"Jesus Christ, how heavy is this thing?! Shit..."

Cadance shakes her head, putting a hoof on the box.

"No, Anonymous, let me take it. You don't know what—"

"Don't fucking worry, Cadance. I won't look inside if it matters that much to you."

She stays silent, looking at you with worry.

"Okay?"

Cadance falters a bit, her ears falling to her head.

'"Anonymous..."

"Okay? I won't. I promise."

"Okay. I trust you. Now, just..."

She thinks for a moment, looking at the door.

"Take it to the big dumpster behind the hotel. Put some of the other trash over it. Make sure nobody sees it. Hopefully the trash compactor will come tomorrow morning or some time relatively soon."

You nod, holding the box on your shoulder.

Fucking hell, it was heavy.

"Gotcha. Anything else?"

"Do. Not. Look. Inside."

"I got that much."

"I just need to stress that point, Anonymous."

You nod, opening the door.

"Okay, hun. I'll be right back."

As you step through, Cadance says goodbye, closing the door behind you.

You make your way out the hotel.

When you get outside, it's night time.

The sky is dark, and the bustle of the city has diminished.

Shouldn't be too difficult to lay low, then.

You head around back, and soon enough, come up to the dumpster.

You take the box off of your shoulder and look at it.

Something's thunking around inside.

You really want to know what it is, since Cadance was so protective...

But you DID make a promise...

You carefully consider this for a moment.

And, some time later, you come to a conclusion.

Whatever Cadance is hiding, it must be really, REALLY bad.

You're actually questioning Cadance's judgement, if she's this rash about things.

Well, think of it this way.

If you look, you can pretend you don't know a thing.

That way, you can have at least some confidence in Cadance, and you won't be left in the dark.

Sounds like a plan.

You set the box down, and look for a place to open it.

You take off two of the latches on one end, and with some effort, the box pops open.

Whatever is in the box is covered by some velvet cloth.

And it's...

Warm.

Very warm.

You even feel a bit of wetness to the touch, and the liquid is just as warm.

You're hopelessly confused, and can't see a damned thing.

You look at your hand in an attempt to identify the liquid, but it's in vain.

After giving up on that, you pull back the cloth.

Oh.

Oh my.

That's a body.