A thin, freckled man rubbed his face, sighing as he opened the drive-thru window. “We’re not open yet, Miss Pie.”
Pinkie sat in her car, the window rolled down and pointed at the employee. “Weeell, technically you are now, silly. Besides, it’s oooonly…” She gazed to her dashboard. “One minute and twenty two seconds until you do open!”
The man put a palm over his face, masking his rolling eyes. “Yes but—”
“Also, it’s Officer Pie to you, mister bister,” Pinkie cut in, giggling to herself.
Suddenly he blinked, looking at her directly. “Sorry. Officer. Ma’am.”
“Aw, it’s fine. We’re all in the same boat here; only reason I’m bothering you is ‘cause I didn’t even have time to make breakfast!” Pinkie explained. “I won’t order anything big, Pinkie Promise.” She moved around, making the motions of her honored pact, despite the confines of her seatbelt.
The man absently scratched his head. “Er, right.”
Pinkie leaned forward, stretching her seatbelt to its limit. Narrowing her eyes, she read the name tag on the guy. “Flip! That’s a good name, Flip. What do you say you whip up something good for me and I’ll be on my way!”
“Well—”
“I’m sure your boss won't mind if you bend the rules juuuust a teensy-weensy bit to help out an officer of the law, would he? Or she.” Pinkie tilted her head. “Is she a she? Or he a he?”
A wave of creases appeared on Flip’s forehead. “He’s a—sure, whatever. He won’t mind. What do you need?”
Pinkie cleared her throat, counting the items on her fingers. “Cheeseburger, chicken nuggets, large fries, lemonade, whipped vanilla ice cream.” She smiled sweetly at him. “Got all that?”
Flip nodded, writing it all down and passing it along to someone unseen to Pinkie. “Yep. Next window, please.”
“Sweet!” Pinkie put her hands on the wheel, starting her car back up. “Hey Flip?”
“Huh? “
“Fight the good fight, brother. Morning shift bros for life, woo!” Throwing a fist into the air, she drove to the next window, leaving Flip in her wake, leaning out of his window and staring after her.
The next window opened up, a young woman standing behind it this time. “That’ll be six ninety nine,” she droned, not looking at Pinkie she held out her hand.
“Sec!” Pinkie said, rummaging around in her wallet for a note and some pennies, before squirming and shifting about, arms wrapping themselves around her body as they searched pockets, the seatbelt getting twisted and tested as she searched high and low.
“There!” Pinkie cried, placing the small pile of correct change in the woman’s hand. Behind her the seatbelt twitched and quivered. The woman didn’t even notice as Pinkie suddenly got pulled back into her chair, almost knocking her seat back.
“Next window,” she said.
“Uh, cool,” Pinkie replied. “Thanks.”
Coming up to the next window, she came up to an even less talkative worker, who just passed over the food without a word. Sighing, Pinkie put everything in the seat next to her and drove off out of the drive-thru, down the road.
“School time, I guess.”
Canterlot High felt as vibrant and alive as it ever had been in Pinkie’s day. Well, at least at the end of the day. During the morning it felt like a zombie apocalypse. She allowed herself a little giggle as she sat there in her car, munching away, watching schoolkids reluctantly head towards that old building. Heads were lowered, gaits lazy and movements lacking in luster. A typical school start.
It was a simple task today. Keep an eye on the kids, make sure no funny business happened, the usual. The neighbourhood was far from dangerous but it was better to be safe than sorry. The fact that Pinkie loved kids and didn’t mind early starts was just a bonus to the police force. A content smile spread its way across Pinkie’s lips.
A knock on her window shattered that.
“Hey, Pinks,” Rainbow said, tapping again.
Letting out a little excited breath, Pinkie quickly put the window down. “Hey, Dashie! Ready for another day of school?”
Dash shrugged, adjusting the strap of her sports bag on her shoulder. “Already had my coffee, so yeah, I guess. I’ll probably need another once I get in though.”
“Aww, didn’t get much sleep last night?” Pinkie asked, leaning one arm out the window.
Dash snorted. “You try completing a whole bunch of boring schoolwork.”
Pinkie just gave her a blunt stare. “Dash, you have literally the least paper-worky job in that whole building. Even less than the janitor, I bet.”
“Hey, you have no idea!” Dash retorted. “I make my students do some essays occasionally. Things about the body ‘n’ all that, y’know? Gotta know how it all works so you know your limits.”
Pinkie snickered, turning to face forward and gaze at the view. “If you say so, Miss Dash.”
“Alright then, Officer. Anyway, was just checking to see when your lunch break today was,” Rainbow said.
“Ummmm…” Pinkie drawled out, rubbing her forehead with her index finger. “Probably around the same time as yours?”
Rainbow folded her arms. “You sure about that?”
“Barring any unexpected crises, yeah,” Pinkie replied, nodding.
Rainbow gave her a look. “Right. Well, I’ll catch you then.”
“Later!” Pinkie said, waving to Rainbow as she walked off. Finishing off her burger, she licked each of her grease covered fingertips, watching her friend go towards the school.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Pinkie called out, running over to a bench near the school and planting herself down next to Rainbow.
“About time,” she muttered, glancing at the paper bag Pinkie was holding. “Doughnuts? Really?” Dash asked as Pinkie plucked them out. “You’re a cop. That’s the most cliché thing ever.”
“So?” Pinkie said, taking a bite of one. “They’re tasty.”
“Can’t argue with you there,” Rainbow said, arm rested against the back of the bench.
“Anywaaaaaay, how’s life, Dashie?” Pinkie asked.
“Same as it ever was, really,” Rainbow replied, finishing up her sandwich. “I got a message from Fluttershy, you know.”
Pinkie pressed up right against Dash, grinning. “Oh! Really?”
Rainbow gently nudged her away. “Yeah. Didn’t you get one?”
“Nah. Thought she was busy in that safari,” Pinkie replied, licking her frosting covered fingertips.
“Apparently one of the rhinos had a baby,” Dash said.
“Is that good?”
“Apparently really great.” Dash took a quick swig of her energy drink. “Since they’re endangered and all that. She sounded thrilled.”
“Huh.” Pinkie sat back in her chair, looking up at the clouds. “Wonder why she didn’t tell me.”
“I think I’m the only one she did tell. You know what she’s like: totally modest. Sometimes I swear I’m her mouthpiece,” Rainbow said.
“I suppose…” Pinkie slowly smiled, fluffy clouds floating overhead. “She’s so lucky to be out there, doing what she loves.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty cool for her.” Dash looked at the shiny badge on Pinkie’s chest. “Hey, Pinks? Can I ask you something?”
“As if you’d need to ask to ask!” Pinkie chirped.
Rainbow simply ignored her reply. “Why did you become a cop?”
“Because I like being a cop, duh,” Pinkie answered, sipping some soda.
“That’s a terrible answer and you know it,” Rainbow objected, prodding Pinkie’s chest. “I mean, I thought you were going to go into baking or something. Or heck, be a clown or a comedian. A cop seems a bit…”
“Serious?” Pinkie finished.
“Er, yeah.”
Pinkie waved a hand in the air. “It’s cool. Can’t blame you for thinking like that. I did want to go into comedy. I mean, that’d be awesome! Making thousands of people across the world laugh and experience tons of joy—that’s fantastic!”
“So why didn’t you?”
Pinkie frowned. “Geeze, I’m getting to that, Dashie. So impatient…” Taking a breath, she continued, “As much as I’d love being a comedian, it’s all a bit showbizzy-tizzy.” Pinkie held up a hand so she could explain. “I mean, like, you’re in the spotlight all the time if you get famous—that’s kinda a big if too but work with me here—and everyone’s gonna be watching whatever you do, whatever you say… I think it just wouldn’t feel fun after a bit. You see on the news, right, people getting harassed for saying something they shouldn’t and we aaaaall know I’ve done that a buncha times so…”
Pinkie rolled her shoulders. “It’s not for me, I think. Here though, working as a cop? It’s local and small scale but here I can really connect with people. Make the community a better, safer place. ‘Cause cops do a lot more than fight crime, they help people out. They’re not exactly the protectors of the community, they’re a part of it too. You get it?”
“Damn, Pinkie, that’s…” Dash wiggled her lips. “You put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”
“Maybe,” Pinkie said, holding out a hand, before putting out the other and saying, “Buuuut I think about lots of things in life.”
“Have you ever shot anyone then?”
Pinkie blinked. “What? No! I mean, occasionally I’ve held a gun at someone but I’ve never…” She pouted and crossed her arms. “That’s a mean question, Dashie.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Rainbow amended, holding up a hand. “I just had to ask.”
“We both know this place is pretty calm. Plus there’s a ton of other officers on the force that do all the nasty stuff. I’m kinda around and about town, making sure everything’s fine and dandy.” She scrunched up her bag, staring at the school. “Kinda what I did at school, really.”
Pinkie tossed her bag into a nearby bin, then looked to Dash. “Why did you stay?”
An eyebrow was quirked. “What do you mean?”
“Well I thought you’d be a super famous athlete winning all the gold medals,” Pinkie explained.
“Oh, that.” Rainbow leant back against the bench, stretching her legs. “I thought I would too but, I dunno, I sort of mellowed out maybe…? It’d be real badass to win worldwide competitions, not gonna lie. At the same time though, I guess I’d always be busy. Training, training then training some more. I like training but sheesh, I like to have some other fun too.”
Watching some students play football nearby, she said, “Maybe I’m like you then; don’t like all the fame stuff. And being a teacher, I can at least inspire young people face to face. Get them to work really hard. Not just in sports but in any aspect of their life. All the teachers when we were in school were dull as hell…”
“What about Celestia and Luna?” Pinkie questioned.
“Pfft, when were they ever around except for important events?” Dash covered a yawn, raising her arms up. “Whatever. I’m here now. Barely scraped by to get into the position but I guess those two sisters saw something in me.”
“I do too,” Pinkie said, wrapping an arm around Rainbow.
Dash stuck her tongue out, snickering quietly and returning the hug. “You big softie.”
“You big tsundere,” Pinkie replied.
Dash stopped. “What?”
“It’s a weird anime thing.”
“Right…” Rainbow checked her phone, then suddenly sat up straight, swearing under her breath. “Gotta go. Lunch is almost over and I gotta prepare another lesson.”
“Aaaaw, that’s lame.” Pinkie got off the bench with Dash, smiling at her. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah, ‘course. Not like we’re going anywhere,” Dash remarked.
Pinkie held up a finger. “Us and Applejack.”
“Yeah, us three ol’ reliables.” Dash looked towards the school for a moment. “Later, Pinks.” Giving her a short wave, she walked towards the building.
“Bye Dashie!” Pinkie said, ecstatically waving after her. Getting up, she dusted down her uniform and headed back to her car, turning on the radio to a low volume as she went back on her watch.
School was over but Pinkie had to stick around for over an hour longer. She knew all about the after school clubs. Especially after having founded nearly half of them herself. Sitting in her car as the sun slowly went down, she tapped her dashboard.
“Twenty nine… aaaaaaand… half-past. Neat.” Turning on the ignition, Pinkie grabbed the wheel and drove down the road, keeping exactly to the speed limit. Except when she slowed down for the speed bumps.
Her trip would take her through the outer suburbs of the town, towards the bustling center. One could always tell when they reached it due to the buildings becoming a lot duller in color, uniformity becoming more of a standard. Tall flats were packed tightly together and although they may have had different heights and bricks, ultimately they were really just the same.
The streetlights flickered on as Pinkie drove on by, keeping an eye on the road as well as her surroundings. Avoiding the main rush hour jam, she turned down a smaller street, retracing an old reliable shortcut the force had told her about.
She came by a long wall, the brick gradually eroding away. Parking on the sidewalk, she went by a couple paces until she came up to a fresh mural. The word ‘REBEL’ was streaked across a part of the wall, colored in a mix of red, yellow and black paint. Every word was stylized, almost looking a bit bubbly, except the ‘L’ which wasn’t quite finished.
The teen froze when Pinkie coughed.
“That’s not a nice thing to do,” Pinkie said.
The young man, red hair streaked with green, jumped and swiveled to face her. One glance of her badge and he froze, dropping his paint canister. It clattered on the ground, the sound almost echoing in the street. “I—uh…”
Pinkie looked to the graffiti, humming to herself. “‘REBEL’. If that’s what you wanna be, then you’re the wrong type.” Glancing down at the kid, she kept her voice calm, saying, “Bad rebels just wanna cause chaos and ruin everything for everybody. Good rebels think outside the box and break conventions without breaking the law and destroying everyone’s fun. ‘Cause they are fun themselves.”
She took a measured step closer. “You get me?”
The teenager said nothing, words trapped in his throat.
Pinkie sighed, getting out a notepad and a pen. “What’s your name?”
“W-Wildfire,” he stammered.
“Ooo, that’s a good one.” Scribble scribble scribble. “Well Wildfire, this is bad but not super duper bad. What I’m gonna have to do is take you to the station, call your parents, have them pick you up and we can have you clean this mess up. ‘Kay?”
Shrinking, Wildfire put his hands in his baggy pockets. “Not like I have a choice, right?”
“Nope!” Pinkie cheerfully replied, gently guiding him to the car. Sitting back in the driver’s seat, she looked in the rear view mirror to check his seatbelt was on, then set off.
After passing by a couple of buildings, Pinkie gave Wildfire a quick glance through the mirror. “Why’d you do it?”
“I dunno,” he moped, nudging the front seat with his trainer.
“‘I dunno’,” Pinkie copied. “C’mon, everyone has a reason to do anything. Reasons are what make the world go around!”
Wildfire just shuffled around, ending up leaning against the door.
“Seriously, why did you do it?” Pinkie asked. “Not everyone wants to see graffiti everywhere.”
“Uh, graffiti,” Wildfire moaned.
“What’s that?”
“It’s art, not graffiti,” he stressed.
Pinkie hid a smirk from him, stopping at a red light. “Maybe to you it is. Others? Not so much.”
Wildfire grunted. “How do you know that?”
Pinkie responded with a soft little shrug. “It’s just a fact of life. Nothing is universally liked. Not even water, some people are allergic to it. Isn’t that mental?”
Silence from the backseat.
“Geeze, that’s two questions you’ve ignored. The youth of today…” Pinkie made a series of loud tuts. “Now, seriously: why paint the wall?”
“I like painting,” Wildfire murmured.
Pinkie snapped her fingers. “There we go! Finally. So, you like painting. Why can’t you just do it on some paper or something?”
Wildfire blew some hair out of his face. “Nobody’s ever gonna see that. Why would they?”
“Because it’s good?” Pinkie said.
Wildfire paused.
“I mean it. It was simple but I’ve seen some graffiti that didn’t even make sense. Or the paint totally sucked,” Pinkie explained. “Kinda shows you care about it a lot if you use materials that aren’t total trash.”
“Whatever. Even if it is good, no one's gonna bother to stop and take notice of me,” he grumbled, staring out of the window.
“Maybe not now but if you keep trying—the nice and honest way—I’m sure you’ll get there!” Pinkie cheered.
Wildfire mumbled some form of acknowledgement.
“Yup. I’m totally sure of it.” Pinkie shifted gears, gradually coming to a stop outside the police station. “Maybe sooner than ya think.”
Opening the door for Wildfire, Pinkie escorted him into the station, coming up to a fellow officer at a desk. “Hiya Bon Bon.”
Bon Bon glanced up from her mess of paperwork. “Hey Pinkie. Who’s the kid?”
“Just some troublemaker I caught graffiting not too far away.” Pinkie smiled sweetly at her. Almost unsettlingly so.”Can I get you to do all the paperworky stuff and get his mum to come by?”
Bon Bon huffed, grabbing a chunky phone book and flipping through the names. “Uh-huh.”
“Great! We’ll just sit here. Thanks so much!” Pinkie said, sitting with Wildfire on a bench in the lobby.
“You’re definitely buying doughnuts tomorrow now,” Bon Bon said, pointing a pen at Pinkie.
Pinkie swung one leg over another, relaxing against the wall. “When you make good on that bet and bring in a chocolate fountain, then we’ll see about doughnuts.”
“What?! How was I meant to know you could fit that many marshmallows in your mouth?!” Bon Bon spluttered. Glaring daggers at Pinkie’s cheeky grin, she grumbled and went back to the books.
“Uh…” Wildfire started.
“Yeah?” Pinkie replied.
“That was weird…” he said, scratching his cheek.
“It sure was! I almost couldn’t breathe, there were so many!” Pinkie exclaimed, throwing up her hands.
“No, I mean, like, that whole deal between you and her—” Wildfire twiddled with his fingers, “—it was weird.”
“‘Course it was. Cops are people too, y’know. Just like you!” Pinkie said, prodding his chest. “Only older. And not breaking the law.” Upon a few more prods, Wildfire halted, blinking slowly. Pinkie just smiled knowingly. “I love it when the bubble bursts.”
“W-What?”
“Cops. They’re just people. Most think we’re super law enforcement robots or something, built to lock people up and be scary. Grr!” Pinkie giggled, which came with a snort. “It’s not like that. Never has been. Most of us are just people who want to serve and protect their community.”
“It’s true,” Bon Bon added. “Plus shooting bad guys is awesome.”
“Okay, sometimes it is a thrill.” Pinkie shook her head affably at Bon Bon, then turned back to Wildfire. “Point is we’re total normies.”
Wildfire just made a thoughtful noise, looking through the room. Coupled with the important looking posters and documents pinned up on walls and noticeboards, there were much more special things dotted occasionally between them all. Photos of the squad during a happy moment, or drawings of appreciation by children. Here and there, parts of the town were hung up around the room.
Pinkie followed his gaze, speaking quietly, “We could use another painting in here, you know…”
Wildfire’s eyes suddenly flashed, a trembling smile with a streak of inspiration across his lips. “Really?”
“Sure!” Pinkie merrily replied. “We could always use more, right Bon Bon?”
Bon Bon shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”
“Exactly. So get that creative brain of yours churning away,” Pinkie lightly ordered.
“On it!” Wildfire announced.
Pinkie smiled, a smile that quickly turned into a wicked grin. “You’re still cleaning up your earlier work though.”
Wildfire’s mother had collected him from the station little over an hour ago. Pinkie had stuck around, sorting out some of the lamer more papery parts of her work, as well as catching up with some colleagues.
Heading through the main lobby, she brushed over Bon Bon’s hair. “Working late tonight?”
Bon Bon gave the barest of efforts to nod. “Yeah.”
“Give me a couple of minutes then,” Pinkie said, stepping out of the station.
Bon Bon pinched her forehead, flipping over a sheet of paper and scribbling some important notes, signatures and the bureaucratic like. Perhaps half an hour or so went by before the doors swung open again, Pinkie marching in with purpose.
A pink box slammed onto the desk right in front of Bon Bon, sending some smaller sheets flying away from the blast. “Pinkie!”
Pinkie simply raised her index finger, opening the box with her free hand. The deep frown on Bon Bon’s rapidly changed to a smirk, her hand reaching in and plucking out a doughnut with white frosting.
“Thanks, Pinkie,” Bon Bon said, taking a bite out of the sugary treat. Closing her eyes briefly, she savored the sugary sensation. “You didn’t have to do this.”
Pinkie shrugged, swiveling on her foot and heading back to the exit. “Just doing my part for the community!”
Bon Bon snorted, looking to the front doors, Pinkie already gone from the station. “What a corny son of a gun.”
