Chapter 5: Maybe This Crazy Lady Knows of the Racist?

So I start investigating around my town but everyone’s being a real jerk today because nobody seems to know jack about anything. I knew that if I wanted to find out about that cute racist, I’d have to really dig down in the powers of my spleen and investigate. But the problem here is that I can’t afford to waste any time because nobody knows what could happen tomorrow. I could just look outside my bedroom window and see a green face and start puking all over the place and not get out from under the covers at all because of it’s stun beams.

So I go to the home of one Connie S. Piracy, the lady who gave me my copy of an informative instruction manual about how to deal with ghosts/aliens titled Ghosts/Aliens. I mean, she knows pretty much literally everything, and I probably wouldn’t still be alive if it wasn’t for her.

When I get to her home I knock on the front door of her little shack and it opens a crack.

“Yes?”

“Yo, I really need your help.”

“Mm hmm.” She then shut the door and I heard a bunch of rattling chains and eventually it opened wide. “Step inside.”

So I step inside. Immediately I hear the sound of crumpled up papers under hoof, I see the walls lined up with diagrams over egg cartons over plain wood, and I know, yeah, this is her house.

“Whatever it is, just remember you still have to lay low from hospitals.”

She’s referring to this little incident I had. “Pfft, that was forever ago!”

“It was last week.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, even.”

“The guards found you nearby with a cart full of boxes of matches.”

“Yeah, but it was only, like, two.”

“It was seventy boxes of 100 matches each.”

“Nobody got hurt.”

“Do you still have feeling in your legs yet?”

“They’re still sore, but that’s what they get for being lame jerks!”

Alright, so I get a look of her hair getting much more frizzled than usual, which takes a real dexterous eye to see given that she basically has dreads. This means that she’s getting pretty annoyed. Believe me, when she gets annoyed she bites. Literally.

“Sorry, miss.”

“So what’s your plan?” She asked, silently forgiving my transgression.

I take a deep breath and just get on with it. “Alright, so there’s this hot chick I met on the bus and I really need to see her again.”

“Okay. Simple enough.” See, that’s why I went to her. She’s chill. “So, what do you know?”

“She’s a yellow pegasus. She’s got blue eyes, pink hair, and her cutie mark is three butterflies.”

“Ah,” She said, getting back to her table and scavenging through piles and piles of collected newspapers and magazines. “That girl’s been in the news a lot lately. I think her name is Thunder Thighs or Shuttle Pie.”

“Also, she’s a racist.”

She stops dead in her tracks and just turns to me. “You will tell me everything you know about this, right now.” So I spend the next several minutes explaining my situation and then she goes “Mm hmm.” She then goes back to scraping around various texts on her work table.

“I’m still going to try and hit on her, she’s crazy hot!”

“Mm hmm. Just make sure to be careful. Ponyville’s basically been the hub to a number of bizarre activities, ever since our new ‘princess’ moved in.” She said, placing a particularly nasally emphasis on “princess.”

“What are you saying?”

“Me? I’m not saying a thing. I’m just bringing up that it’s odd that a dragon invasion, a racing event involving a number of birds and a tortoise, and the arrival of Nightmare Moon then turning into Princess Luna happened after one pony, as selected by Princess Celestia, moved in. In fact,” She began, moving over to an elaborately decorated flat board of wood hanging on the wall with numerous tacks, colored strings, and photos attached to it. “The number of incidents occurring in this one specific locale and subsequently involving her or her direct associates has increased substantially over the past few years. This is so odd, that I’d throw out the assumption it is simply coincidence!”

Yeah. You’ll never be caught in this position, but if you are then you have two options to weigh: Interrupt her and risk facing her dental wrath or just listen to her for about half a day. I didn’t have half a day to waste.

“That’s totally not wrong. Maybe this Butter Float chick can help?”

“Oh,” She was not lunging at me. This is a good sign. “She’s named Fluttershy and her exact location is something privy mostly to her friends and Princess Luna. I’d recommend you investigate Sweet Apple Acres for a pony named Applejack, she should know of this.”

“But that’s so far away! Can’t I just visit the princess?”

“Don’t. Just stay clear from her, she obliterated a schoolhouse last week. Which also brings me to my next point,” And again she went to the board. “Princess Luna went on a rampage with a foreign device that fired projectiles at high velocities last week. After her warpath was quelled, there was the appearance of this so called ‘Machine Gun Mare.’ Now, I’m not saying they’re one in the same, but they’re awful similar. What do you think?”

I was gone.

Author's Note

I think we've all had that moment where we say at one point in our lives, our legs have been jerks to us.