Undercover Dates

     Spitfire and Winter Haze sat by a golden colored willow tree. It's leaves brushed their noses and they occasionally sneezed. They both decided to bring their sisters with them since their siblings were curious. Spitfire sat with her sister, Blaze, and Haze sat by his, Star Dust.

    They ate some cucumber sandwiches with a small salad on the side. Blaze had already eaten two salads and three sandwiches. Spitfire was eating her second cucumber sandwich. Haze had eaten a salad and four sandwiches, while his sister had only eaten one of each.

     Spitfire took a large bite of her delectable sandwich. She swallowed it whole. "And the he said, 'Poker? I barely know her!'"

     They shared a good laugh. Haze, who was still chewing, nearly choked on his food. Star Dust swung her left hoof around and slammed it across his back.

     "Good?"

      "Good."

     "C'mon, I thought we were going to do something fun!" Blaze shouted at her sister. She didn't like their plans after the picnic.

     "We're just playing a game."

     "I've never even heard of it!" she whined.

      "Because earth ponies usually play it. Just because your a pegasus, doesn't mean the you have to be oblivious to everything besides flying and pulling pranks."

     "The only reason why you don't like me pranking ponies is because those colts told the gym teacher after they found out that you put hot sauce in their shower's plumbing."

     "What?! No! I do because it is childish!"

      "Psh, Whatever Spitty."

       Blaze crossed her hooves. She put her nose in the air. It was a really good impression of the Canterlot ponies that Spitfire saw last week. All high and mighty, like they're best friends with Princess freaking Celestia.

     Spitfire sat with her head in her hooves. She was shaking it side to side slowly.

She's being more childish than normal.

     "Blaze, we gotta go now."

     "Fine, but just so you know, I will probably suck at this putting golf stuff."

     "So you do it like this."

     Spitfire held Blaze's forehooves in her own. She guided them back steadily.

      "Do I swing it now?"

     "Yes."

      Blaze swung the golf club. It hit the ball, and it soared over the windmill she was aiming for.

     "Fore!" A voice shouted directly in their ears.

     "Dammit Soarin! Will you stop appearing everywhere?!"

     "Nope! I came here to apologize to Blaze."

     "I met you once. You stole my corn dog." she looked at him with a questioning pose. "Why?"

     "Well, we just got of on the wrong foot."

     "Hoof."

     Soarin became annoyed. "It's my fault and I'm sorry." He said through gritted teeth.

     "Yep."

Ugh, now I see why Spitz doesn't hang out with her family often.

     "Blaze. You seem like a pony with a lot of love to give."

      She nodded.

      "Unfortunately, you are a serial killer. She's a killer of mares. Lots of em."

     "No, no, no, no, no. Soarin you will not call my sister a murderer!" Spitfire took a few steps forward. He took a few back in turn.

     "You will not accuse my sister of killing ponies! Just because Winter Haze isn't a serial killer, doesn't mean that Blaze is!"

      "Has he thought that your coltfriends were murders before?" Blaze asked.

     "One or twice, yeah."

     "Look Spitz, I didn't pick her. I can't help it if she likes to kill." Soarin reared his head back. He then began to shake his mane back and forth, much to the mare's aggravation.

     "Enough of that! While you are accusing some innocent mare of murder, there is a real serial killer out there. Possibly getting ready to kill again."

     "So I'm some mare now?"

      "Yes. Deal with it.." Damn, I would have looked awesome with some shades right now.

     "Anyway, you!" Soarin poked Blaze in her chest. She simply raised an eyebrow. "You wanted a date with Mr. Possibilities. Remember him? You should. You wrote to him over eleven times. Each time you were rejected, you got jealous. You went after two mares in the prim of their lives, and killed them. Because if you couldn't have him, nopony could. Am I right?"

     "Hold it, so you wrote to some dude eleven times?"

     "You're a detective and you make money off of this?!" Blaze yelled.

     "It's simple. Prove that you have an alibi for the night of the first murder-- Tuesday the seventeenth. At 11:59." Soarin pointed a hoof at Spitfire. "And you! Do not be the Tom Stalleck to her Polina Porizkov."

     "What are you talking about?"

     "From Her Alibi, 1989. Rotten tomatometer-- 18%" Blaze stated is if it was common knowledge.

     "Audience meter-- 38%." Soarin shot back at her.

     "If anything, Spitty would be Jay Farentino."

     "Who's that? Some other dude you tried to get a date with?"

     Blaze sighed. She pulled out her phone from her mane. An old trick that a sugar high pink pony taught her. She scrolled through her images. Eventually, the wanted one was found. She turned the phone around and faced it to Soarin.

     "I'm getting a reward from an amateur stunt flying convention in Manehattan."

      "I just need to..... verify all of the information at the police station. But it seems that you're ok to... keep putting. Don't leave town."

     "You should be ashamed of yourself." Spitfire glared at him.

     "Well, I am."

     Soarin turned around. He trotted down the stone walkway. He felt like he was forgetting something.

     .Crap, I'm going the wrong way. My stuff is on the other side.

.    He spun around again. Both Spitfire and Blaze were still watching him. He nervously walked past them onto the grass.

     "Don't mind me. I'm just getting my stuff."

     He ducked under the red windmill's blades.

They'll probably have to leave soon anyway. With Blaze's "putting" they will knock out somepony's window.