Bloody Good Showby Shadow ValkyrieChaptersFirst BloodThe Doctor, The Writer, and Doc's Wardrobe His Blood Really is BlueInterviewsFirst BloodChapter 1 It was a most disturbing case, filled with gruesome murders and frights all around. Could be used a horror story of a sort to frighten young fillies, or even children. Possibly squeamish adults. But you get the point. On with the story. He needed a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala, but to get in he needed a ticket. Either a forged one or it was acquired through less than honorable means. But still, to get in the latter way, you would need to know someone who knows someone. He didn't have a government official's personal phone number, yet, but he had a few ties to a secretive, but strong gang. And that is something hard to come by. But alas, he couldn't afford to leave a witness, albeit a valuable one. He would have to take care of it soon, or he would be discovered sooner or later. That was not something he would leave to chance. He wold have to tie up loose ends, but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun doing so. The "loose end" he had to sever had accepted a meeting with him in Las Pegasus. A loose end wouldn't be the only thing he would sever, though. They met in an alleyway, behind a small store, which was obviously closed. His contact had come alone, for the gang he was in struck so much fear into the local populous that no one would dare harm them and get away with it. Or so they thought. "I believe you ordered one ticket to the Gala." The gang member started. He held out the envelope, ticket enclosed. As his buyer reached for it, he jerked it away. "But first, tell me something. Is it business or pleasure?" "Oh, definitely pleasure. I have all the assets I need set in place for this little game I play. I just need you for one last thing, and then our business is concluded." "Oh, yea? What?" "Well... it's not to say that I need your help with anything. But it isn't to say, is it? Come closer, I'll whisper it to you. You know how those spies are in this city." "Mm-hm. Hate them spies"So the loose end came closer. "Yeah? What's the- Urrrk" He toppled over. He stood over the victim, brandishing a knife. " I just need your body. Not your help." The victim's eyes went wide with terror as his final business partner stabbed and hacked away. Then he leaned over and whispered in the dead body's ear: "That was liberating." Riing-Riing! Riing-Riing! "Hello, this is Sherlock Hooves the Fourth. To whom am I speaking? Oh, hello captain! It's been far to long." "Ah, yes, it has been, my friend. I wish it could be under better circumstances. There's been a... disturbing murder recently. I think you should take a look and see if you can help our investigation along." "Scene of the crime?" "Let's see. Uh... At the pastry shop near the small office complex in the east section of the city. Meet up with the head detective on the case if you find her." "On my way there now. And don't give up. We will get that crime boss eventually." Sherlock hung up. At the scene of the crime, police barricades were diverting traffic away from the area. If the crime scene was contaminated, that would be bad. Inside the shop, there were ponies from forensics trying to analyze the evidence. Sherlock slipped past the barricades. "Excuse me sir, but you can't go in there." "It's fine. The captain sent for me." "He's fine, officer. I can vouch for him." A female voice intervened. "All right ma'am." "Right. You must be Sherlock then." She shook his hoof and introduced herself. "Detective Hidden Detail. I'm leading the investigation here. We are having a hard time figuring out this case. Mainly because our forensics specialists keep running out to vomit. It got very annoying for 15 minutes. Then they sucked it up and stopped puking. It's either that or they haven't reloaded their stomachs yet. I swear, those new guys need to learn that police work isn't pretty. One managed to suck it up and get down to business. Once he managed it, the others were able to do that too." "Agents of change. So what were they able to dig up?" "So far, they were able to find the identity of the deceased: Money Launderer. At least that's a start. The body was nailed to a wall, definitely not the cause of death in lieu of the multiple stab wounds found all over the body. Also, there is a word written in blood." She paused for a second. "But some of the blood has been mixed with something, making it blue. And the meaning of the words are undetermined at this time." "Why? What's the word?" " FirsTBl00D" She said. "Could be the first for a serial killer. Let us hope that we stop that from happening." "What do you mean we? My fathers before me have worked alone for generations ever since-" "Watson." "Yes. Best friend to my great grandfather, the original. When they attempted to solve the case of Jackal the Ripper. When they found Jackal, he leapt off a tower and plummeted to his death, refusing to be caught. But he pulled poor Watson down with him into hell with him. It was the one killer who truly beat the great Sherlock Hooves. That story was passed down for generations. Even I, a century later, feel for someone I never truly knew." He closed his eyes and sighed. "That is why we have worked alone for so long. So that that never happens again." "I realize that this may be your family's way of honoring a friend, and it may be part of your legacy, but you can't take them all on alone." "I'm still here, aren't I?" Sherlock remarked. "For now. Tell you what, we work on this case together, but keep it strictly professional. Deal?" "Deal." They shook hooves, sealing their partnership for the case. A day later, Twilight Sparkle was reading the newspaper. An article caught her eye: Beginning of a Serial Killer? A heavily mutilated body was found in a pastry shop in the city of Las Pegasus. The body was nailed to a wall, and the words "first blood" were written in the victim's blood. This possibly implies more murders along the way. Forensic teams were able to determine the identity of the victim: A known member of the Solo Gang, Money Launderer. However, no forensic evidence was found a to the identity of the killer. On another note, detective Sherlock Hooves IV, decedent of the legend, and head detective of the Las Pegasus police department, Hidden Detail are attempting to solve the case. That is all the department is revealing to the public at present time. "Spike! I'll be going to Las Pegasus for a bit! Don't use the telescope to watch Rarity sleeping while I'm gone!" "Sure, I can zo dat." Spike mumbled in his sleep. Author's Note Detectives, hold on to your seat belts! (Yes, Sherlock Hooves and Jackal the Ripper is are really bad puns) The Doctor, The Writer, and Doc's Wardrobe The Doctor, The Writer, and Doc's Wardrobe Chapter 2 "Miss Hooves, can you hand me the sonic?" "Sure, Doc. Just need to find it. Again." After Derpy and Time Turner started dating, they had been having even more exciting adventures in the TARDIS, several of which included vacations to a cold volcano during the summer. And since they had all of space and time, that volcano would never run out for them. They were at the such place now, doing some repair jobs to the infamous police box, as well as some refueling. The volcano was also a placeholder for a rift in time. Not as good as the one in Cardiff, but it would have to do. The TARDIS was infamous to many universes. The sound of its engines would bring hope to the innocent, and strike fear into the hearts of the cruel. In this universe, where he was now Doctor Whooves, all it appeared to be was just a phone box with a broken phone. Key word: appeared to be. It was really a spaceship that could travel anywhere in space and time. She was also alive and aware. She also had quite an attitude. This actually wasn't the first time Derpy had lost the Doctor's second most famous gadget. Ah, the sonic screwdriver; works on everything except wood. The Doctor had had it for so long that the psychic imprint that had been left on it contained 900 years of his millennium of adventure. He who had the sonic, had the memories of The Doctor. But if they absorbed all those memories that weren't their's, their minds would burn. So it was imperative that he get it back before it fell into the wrong hands, lest an evil being, or worse, an innocent claim the mind-burning knowledge. Like the Doctor's real name, the question hidden in plain sight, or the secrets of the time vortex. A time lord could process that information, but he was the last one. "Wait! Never mind. I found it. Whew. Crises averted. But why was it under the box marked "S"? I didn't put it there. Hmm, moving on!" He soniced (Is that a word? It is now!) the time distortion detector, which he thought took too long to say, so he called it the TDD. It was the last part that needed repair, and then they could get going. But he noticed that something was off with the detector. It detected a time distortion before he even calibrated it. "Oh, you stubborn girl. You had to leave one system online for the repairs to this room, didn't you?" "Who ya talking to, Doc?" Derpy peeped from over the console. "Aah! No one. Nobody at all. I'm a madman trapped in a box, remember?" "I remember rule number one." He sighed. "The Doctor lies. But I'm still not telling you! Haha! Anyways, this computer screen shows that there's a fixed point being altered sometime out there. That's not good. I'm afraid our honeymoon is going to be cut short. Allons-y!" The TARDIS took off, leaving that iconic sound behind to the witness: A Weeping Angel in a ponified form. It was smiling. I dare not show you it's grin. The image of an Angel is itself an Angel you know. But inside the stone shell it could still think. Run, like you always have and always will, son of Gallifrey. You will not escape next the next time I find you. Back in the TARDIS, the console was spewing sparks. "What's happening to her?" Derpy asked. "When we're going to is being distorted temporally. The TARDIS doesn't like it. We're going for an emergency landing! Brace for impact!" Tap "Got all your limbs, Ditzy?" "I can move. What happened?" "Yeah, you're fine. I was kind of expecting something more along the lines of "Kaboom" or "Splash" but "Tap"? Now I'm disappointed." He looked up and yelled. "Come on fate! I know you can do better!" He stomped over to the door. "Where did we land, anyway?" He opened the door, and the phone rang. "Who is this and how did you get this number? Lyra? All right, what is the day? August? The Gala?! I better get dressed; we're on top of the castle right now! Yes, Derpy is still travelling with me. But seriously, how did you get this number? The internet?! You found my time-travelling phone number on the internet? Oh, the humans' internet? How did it reach all the was over here? Never mind, that's a story for another day. You gonna be here tonight? Cool, see ya there. Bye!" He hung up the phone, and turned back to stare at Derpy. "What?" "Do you have a dress? We're going to a party." It was about a month after that grisly murder in Las Pegasus A.K. Yearling had been secluded as ever, keeping to herself, writing her books about her double life, except when she went to the local town, Vanhoover for the necessary supplies. Even then, she always looked over her back whenever she went into town. It wasn't exactly what she would call "completely safe". But then again, that made the town quite colorful, especially when she got into a fight as her alternate identity. But in all honesty, A.K. Yearling was the real alternate identity. The original, and real identity was Daring Do, adventurer and treasure hunter. Since she was a character in a book, no one would come looking for her. Usually. There was one time with a sky-blue Pegasus pony named Rainbow Dash, who looked remarkably similar to her. Somehow neither of them noticed this fact. She ended up being in one of her books. Because she was so secluded, she never expected to get a letter. Her mailbox was so useless and unfilled that she often wondered why she never got rid of it. But the answer to her pondering those many times was there, in her mailbox. The mail pony went along on his rounds, delivering packages and letters across all of Equestria. That mail came 'round every two weeks, taking one week for the entire trip. One thing was certain about him: he was very dedicated to his job. Daring Do had watched him pass by her house hundreds of times, but she only had mail around once a year, sometimes less. So she was definitely surprised when this letter came to her house: Send to the residence of A.K. Yearling, by order of Princess Twilight Sparkle, the Fourth Princess, etc. Ms. Yearling, I, Princess Twilight Sparkle, cordially invite you to the Grand Galloping Gala of 2014. Now that formalities are dealt with, let's talk on the less formal side of things. Rainbow Dash would be disappointed if you weren't there, and so would I. Since reaching princess-hood, I have gained the ability to pull some strings in places. I use one string to get a ticket for you. You will find it enclosed in the parcel I have sent you. Since you haven't much social contact in a while, I feel compelled to help out with your social life. (Not to be insulting, I'm sure you understand) I also believe you need more experience with public events. I do hope you can come to the Gala in a few days. Your friend, Twilight Sparkle. P.S. You should see Rarity about a dress if you choose to come. Usually, she can be found in Ponyville at the Carousel Boutique. Enclosed: One ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala Daring Do knew that Twilight was right. She was distant form society. It was about time to attend a social event that didn't involve a bar fight or an encounter with Athuzotl. She found some parchment, and wet the tip of a quill. She wrote her reply: Princess Twilight Sparkle Golden Oak Library Ponyville, Equestria Dear Twilight, You're right. I do need at least some social interaction. You will see me at the Gala in a few days. This better be worth the trek, though. When I get to Ponyville, I will travel with you to Canterlot after I get the mess of the dress sorted out. Hope to see you soon. From, A.K. Yearling She packed some saddlebags, and started heading south to Ponyville and her friends. "Does this work for me?" "No, it's too sparkly. Try something toned down." "This?" "Oh, you would look beautiful an that, Ditzy. Try it on while I find something." Doc rummaged through the massive room that he used as the wardrobe of the TARDIS. He did find something that looked like it would work well for the Gala. When he came out with it in his hoof, he saw Derpy, transformed into one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. "Oh, I have no words except: you look great." "What do you have for the party?" "A bow tie, and a blue suit. It's like one that 10 wore, but it's not the same." "How does a bow tie fit for the fancy Gala?" "Bow ties are cool." Author's Note There was one time with a sky-blue Pegasus pony named Rainbow Dash, who looked remarkably similar to her. I can and I will remark about it. His Blood Really is BlueChapter 3 The Grand Galloping Gala. One of the biggest pubic gatherings in all of Equestria, but also one of the biggest bores to Celestia, until last year anyway. That was actually fun to her. Thousands of attendants crammed into Canterlot for a night, only to have it emptied by the next morning. Some of the attendants included Doctor Whooves and Derpy, The Mane 6, Inspector Sherlock Hooves and Detective Hidden Detail, A.K. Yearling, The Wonderbolts, and so many more. It had been three weeks since the grisly murder. The detectives had run into every single dead end they could find in the case, leaving them with little hope to catch the killer. To ease their minds, Sherlock procured two tickets to the Gala. Though he would not admit it, he was growing a somewhat attachment to her. This he would definitely not admit because of what happened to his ancestor. But he still had a feeling when he was around her. But no, she wasn't that attractive. And if he did tell her about it, it would probably come out awkward and embarrassing. Dear Luna! So many mixed feelings! he thought at one time. Come on, stay calm. You're here to ease you and your partner's nerves, not jumpstart them! He got back on track; he was here to enjoy a celebration, and that was it. What could possibly go wrong at a celebration, other than my emotions getting the better of me? Someone clearly did not hear about last year's Gala. The dressed up Doctor and beautiful Ditzy trotted up to the castle's drawbridge. They were both hoping that there would be an excellent party tonight. "Greetings, booth guy! I am Doctor Smith, and I have an invitation plus one to the Gala. Would you be so kind as to let us in? From what I've heard about the last one, this is a party that cannot be missed." The Doctor flashed his slightly psychic paper at the guard in the ticket booth. "Yeah, whatever. Come on in. Enjoy the party. Et cetra. Et cetra." Clearly this was someone who didn't take their job seriously. "My word, Ditzy! Is that guy bored out of his mind or what? Ah, well what can you do? Some people choose to be bored. Oops, I said people. Got to stop thinking out loud, Doctor. Oh, there I go doing it again! I'm not crazy, am I?" "Sure, Doc. But don't worry about that! We have the rest of the party to look up to! I wonder if they have muffins?" "My goodness! This is common carnival fare! Why did she advise me to try something like this? My lips are tainted by this less than civilized substance! Someone get this poison away from me!" Applejack was enraged for the second year in a row now. "You know what, Blueblood? I don't give a damn what you think! This is some of the finest product to leave Ponyville, and you ate part of it, so you're paying for it. Then, you will pay for your rudeness, you ass! So why don't you tell your guards to leave before it get's ugly, so I can make you pay? Or are ya a coward?" "How dare you, you filthy-" "No, no. I ain't filthy, but in a moment, you will be." Applejack took an old apple pie she was saving for him and threw it into Blueblood's face. "That was for last year. This is for now." She took an apple she had on hand in case he showed up, (or rather on hoof) and smashed it into his face. It was a rotten apple so it was mushy and brown on the inside, and now it was on Blueblood in an apple-flavored mess. "My handsome face is soiled! Guards, arrest her!" The guard were laughing their flanks off. "Why? You are an ass! Hahahah!" "I don't know why we were stuck working with this over-expecting, demanding, selfish ass, Hehe. But now I'm glad we were!" "Someone arrest them all! I have been humiliated!" He ran off to somewhere isolated, sobbing. Rarity popped up behind Applejack's cart, a grin of satisfaction on her face. "I do say that our plan went smoothly. Nice throws, Applejack!" They did something that could be compared to a high five or a fist bump. (since I am not sure what such a thing would be called) "Do you think he shall return?" "Naw. If I know other's enough, and from our experiences I think we should, he won't be back in a while. Either a while or a half-hour." The guards came up to them for two reasons. "Thanks a million for doing that; it was about time he got what was coming for him. But I need to ask you." "What?" "Do you have a permit to sell? Because we are hungry after taking care of his grumpyness." Meanwhile, Blueblood ran to his room to stay out of as many eyes as possible. He cleaned off his face, only to realize that the stench of rotten apples wasn't coming off. He locked the door so he could take a bath without disturbance. The detectives were having a much better time than the mistaken royal. (mistaken implying his status was a mistake) They had found that a pony named Applejack was selling apple pie at one of the stalls. They needed only to search for some ice cream after that part. t wan't very hard to find. "Sherlock, I can't believe you haven't tried apple pie and ice cream together! That is one of the very things to try before you die. That is like not eating pizza in your entire life." "I'll trust you on that. Here goes." With one hearty bite, he took in the cold goodness of ice cream and the warm goodness of apple pie. The flavor and contrast was enjoyable to him very much. "Wow! This is spectacular!" "I know right? Ooh, the air show is about to start. We don't want to miss that!" As they looked up, they saw the Wonderbolts flying overhead with smoke trails following them. Spitfire flew in the middle with her fiery trail snaking after her. The other two circled around her, creating the illusion of a cylinder. It was as if a bullet was being fired down the barrel of a rifle or some other gun. Alas, this had a meaning to Sherlock that he did not wish to relive. He had served 3 years in the lunar royal army, only to be given an honorable discharge after a battle with some Griffon mercenaries. One by one, his comrades were gunned down until only he and his CO were left. He could remember each of the faces of the combatants, on both sides, far too clearly. Enraged at losing his brothers and sisters in arms, he had killed all of the mercenaries single-handed. He had saved his commanding officer and they made it home, to receive a personal commendation and an honorable discharge from Princess Luna herself, but at the cost of part of his soul. After he snapped out of the bloody rage he had found himself in, he wondered if he would ever regain it. Some of the soldiers didn't even bodies left for a burial. Damn explosives. Damn Griffons. Damn that pointless war. At least everyone in the battle left with intact honor, in one way or another. The image of a gun going off was all it took for him to feel every emotion and memory all over again. He sat down and clutched his head at the mental pan inflicted upon him once more. He saw no air show, only a bad memory. And another reason for him to not get too attached to anything, or anyone. "Are you alright, Holmes?" "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute. I think I have had too much of that ice cream. Getting a brain freeze." It may have been a lie, but it was a clever one given the circumstances. Knock-knock "Who in Celestia's name could be at the door? Can't I wallow in shame on my own?" Blueblood was not taking kindly to any more visitors tonight. Not after what happened, anyway. He got up from his bed and stomped to the door in annoyance. "Who is it? I'm tired!" He opened the door to see a pony in a suit: an official by the looks of it. "Prince Blueblood, I'm with the PIA, the Pony Intelligence Agency. We have reason to believe that your life is at risk. Can I come in, please?" He flashed his shining badge at the moping one. "Mymymy my life? Surely you jest? Uh, come in. Eep." He showed in the agent and locked the door. He rushed to get some of the candies he had in his place. He wanted to look good in front of a government official especially if this was going on the record."So what is the threat to mymy life? Is it dangerous?" "We took notice of a death threat issued to you written in blood on a dead body. What we are dealing with is somepony who is good at killing others without remorse." "So what are you doing about it?" "The Las Pegasus Police Department is hard at work, trying to find the murderer, but I have been sent here to guard you until the threat has passed." With Blueblood's back turned, he came closer. "We also have confirmation that the killer is at the Gala at this very moment." "So can you protect me until- Urk!" He was stopped by the piano wire wrapped firm around his neck. "Let me go, I demand you! I am a Prince!" The wire cut into his neck, and he complained no more except for the gargling of blood. Then the head came off. "I said 'guard', not protect. And now the threat has passed. Time for another clue." He smeared another message of blood on the floor. "His blood really is blue. Goodbye, you royal pain." He exited the lavish apartment-style home and locked the door, sliding the key under it. The clue written: What a wonderful world InterviewsChapter 4: "Prince Blueblood? You have been in there for quite some time, you need to get out of there, or the public will be concerned." No answer to the servant, though, he might also be considered a butler. "There is no probable cause for you to be in there for this long. It is irrational." Still no answer. "Fine. I'm coming in there, but no longer that I have to." He inserted the key he had been entrusted with into the lock, and the door creaked open. The first thing that he noticed out of place was the key on the floor. "Hmm. Now I have to pick up after your messes. Hmph!" He place the key on the nearby table that was at the entryway: a sensible place to put your keys. He looked to the floor to see the tracks of dirt in the imprint of horseshoes leading into and out of the place of residence. "Had some company tonight, eh? Well, I can imagine that it was another one of those phony salesponies that intend to walk throughout the house, 'browsing' as they claim to be doing. You always fall for that trick." The next thing he notice out of place was the bowl of candied pineapples. They weren't just eaten, the entire bowl was gone. Usually, if this happened, Blueblood was moping or crying. This happened last year when his "date" had enough of his unchivalrous tendencies. "Have you taken the sweets into your room again? If so, did someone else humiliate you this year?" He entered the living room to see dots of blue fluid staining the carpet. He knew about the medical condition Buleblood had: his blood was actually blue. "Caught a bloody muzzle, have you? I'll find a tissue box for you if I find it." The important thing he noticed out of place: the body of Blueblood, with a message written in fluid drained from his corpse. "Holy Celestia, that is not good." "So you were the one to discover the body?" Hidden Detail asked. "Yes. I am his butler, but sometimes he treated me like a servant. I come around to service him every morning, noon, and evening. But this evening... is my last." "Do you know if anyone who would wish to harm him?" "I could give you a list of suspects, but it would not narrow it down much. He is... was not very charismatic, and lacked politeness and chivalry. He cared only for himself. You could ask his date last year; he treated her poorly." "What is her name?" "I believe it is Rarity." "Anything else you can tell me?" "There were track in and out of the house. They led into an alleyway, but I'm not sure from there." "Why don't we see?" "Alright, detective. Let's see." They followed the trail of hoof prints, hoping that they would lead to some evidence to catch the killer. What they found was a smoldering suit, shoes and tie, and a burnt rubber mask. Also in the mix was a crispy can of spray paint. "Damn it! The evidence is here, but it's tampered. And no suspect either." "Thank you, captain obvious." "I'm not a captain yet. Besides, that job is taken. Can you show me who this 'Rarity' is?" "Your name is 'The Doctor'? That's not a name, it's a pseudonym. An A.K.A. Who are you, really?" "The Doctor is my code name detective..." "Sherlock Hooves. Now show me a real ID, else I will have to have you arrested for obstruction of justice." "Okay, fine." "That paper is blank, sir." "Oh! Why is the detective of the police so smart?! Ditzy, please help me with this guy." "He's an alien from another world with a phone box that can travel anywhere in time and space, and if anyone knows his real name bad stuff will happen." "Derpy!" "Thank you for telling the truth. Was that really so hard... Doctor?" "Why is the officer coming over to me? I didn't do anything wrong." Rarity told herself "Rarity, is it?" "Yes, madame. What do you require?" "I am detective Hidden Detail, and Prince Blueblood is dead." "Sweet Celestia! Who happens to be present, actually. I meant to humiliate him, not drive him to suicide!" "No, no! You didn't do that! I think. He was murdered, by the looks of it. But to cut to the chase, did you kill him?" "No! Applejack here can vouch for me." "'s true. She was with me the whole time." "Do you know of anypony who would wish to do him harm?" "Let me think... Oh, I would say about a couple thousand individuals. Blueblood was a total... jerk! Even I would be driven to hurt him after last year. You shouldn't be looking at Canterlot, but at all of Equestria!" "So, now we have no leads. Terrific." Author's Note I tried to make the servant/butler British-sounding.
First BloodChapter 1 It was a most disturbing case, filled with gruesome murders and frights all around. Could be used a horror story of a sort to frighten young fillies, or even children. Possibly squeamish adults. But you get the point. On with the story. He needed a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala, but to get in he needed a ticket. Either a forged one or it was acquired through less than honorable means. But still, to get in the latter way, you would need to know someone who knows someone. He didn't have a government official's personal phone number, yet, but he had a few ties to a secretive, but strong gang. And that is something hard to come by. But alas, he couldn't afford to leave a witness, albeit a valuable one. He would have to take care of it soon, or he would be discovered sooner or later. That was not something he would leave to chance. He wold have to tie up loose ends, but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun doing so. The "loose end" he had to sever had accepted a meeting with him in Las Pegasus. A loose end wouldn't be the only thing he would sever, though. They met in an alleyway, behind a small store, which was obviously closed. His contact had come alone, for the gang he was in struck so much fear into the local populous that no one would dare harm them and get away with it. Or so they thought. "I believe you ordered one ticket to the Gala." The gang member started. He held out the envelope, ticket enclosed. As his buyer reached for it, he jerked it away. "But first, tell me something. Is it business or pleasure?" "Oh, definitely pleasure. I have all the assets I need set in place for this little game I play. I just need you for one last thing, and then our business is concluded." "Oh, yea? What?" "Well... it's not to say that I need your help with anything. But it isn't to say, is it? Come closer, I'll whisper it to you. You know how those spies are in this city." "Mm-hm. Hate them spies"So the loose end came closer. "Yeah? What's the- Urrrk" He toppled over. He stood over the victim, brandishing a knife. " I just need your body. Not your help." The victim's eyes went wide with terror as his final business partner stabbed and hacked away. Then he leaned over and whispered in the dead body's ear: "That was liberating." Riing-Riing! Riing-Riing! "Hello, this is Sherlock Hooves the Fourth. To whom am I speaking? Oh, hello captain! It's been far to long." "Ah, yes, it has been, my friend. I wish it could be under better circumstances. There's been a... disturbing murder recently. I think you should take a look and see if you can help our investigation along." "Scene of the crime?" "Let's see. Uh... At the pastry shop near the small office complex in the east section of the city. Meet up with the head detective on the case if you find her." "On my way there now. And don't give up. We will get that crime boss eventually." Sherlock hung up. At the scene of the crime, police barricades were diverting traffic away from the area. If the crime scene was contaminated, that would be bad. Inside the shop, there were ponies from forensics trying to analyze the evidence. Sherlock slipped past the barricades. "Excuse me sir, but you can't go in there." "It's fine. The captain sent for me." "He's fine, officer. I can vouch for him." A female voice intervened. "All right ma'am." "Right. You must be Sherlock then." She shook his hoof and introduced herself. "Detective Hidden Detail. I'm leading the investigation here. We are having a hard time figuring out this case. Mainly because our forensics specialists keep running out to vomit. It got very annoying for 15 minutes. Then they sucked it up and stopped puking. It's either that or they haven't reloaded their stomachs yet. I swear, those new guys need to learn that police work isn't pretty. One managed to suck it up and get down to business. Once he managed it, the others were able to do that too." "Agents of change. So what were they able to dig up?" "So far, they were able to find the identity of the deceased: Money Launderer. At least that's a start. The body was nailed to a wall, definitely not the cause of death in lieu of the multiple stab wounds found all over the body. Also, there is a word written in blood." She paused for a second. "But some of the blood has been mixed with something, making it blue. And the meaning of the words are undetermined at this time." "Why? What's the word?" " FirsTBl00D" She said. "Could be the first for a serial killer. Let us hope that we stop that from happening." "What do you mean we? My fathers before me have worked alone for generations ever since-" "Watson." "Yes. Best friend to my great grandfather, the original. When they attempted to solve the case of Jackal the Ripper. When they found Jackal, he leapt off a tower and plummeted to his death, refusing to be caught. But he pulled poor Watson down with him into hell with him. It was the one killer who truly beat the great Sherlock Hooves. That story was passed down for generations. Even I, a century later, feel for someone I never truly knew." He closed his eyes and sighed. "That is why we have worked alone for so long. So that that never happens again." "I realize that this may be your family's way of honoring a friend, and it may be part of your legacy, but you can't take them all on alone." "I'm still here, aren't I?" Sherlock remarked. "For now. Tell you what, we work on this case together, but keep it strictly professional. Deal?" "Deal." They shook hooves, sealing their partnership for the case. A day later, Twilight Sparkle was reading the newspaper. An article caught her eye: Beginning of a Serial Killer? A heavily mutilated body was found in a pastry shop in the city of Las Pegasus. The body was nailed to a wall, and the words "first blood" were written in the victim's blood. This possibly implies more murders along the way. Forensic teams were able to determine the identity of the victim: A known member of the Solo Gang, Money Launderer. However, no forensic evidence was found a to the identity of the killer. On another note, detective Sherlock Hooves IV, decedent of the legend, and head detective of the Las Pegasus police department, Hidden Detail are attempting to solve the case. That is all the department is revealing to the public at present time. "Spike! I'll be going to Las Pegasus for a bit! Don't use the telescope to watch Rarity sleeping while I'm gone!" "Sure, I can zo dat." Spike mumbled in his sleep. Author's Note Detectives, hold on to your seat belts! (Yes, Sherlock Hooves and Jackal the Ripper is are really bad puns)
The Doctor, The Writer, and Doc's Wardrobe The Doctor, The Writer, and Doc's Wardrobe Chapter 2 "Miss Hooves, can you hand me the sonic?" "Sure, Doc. Just need to find it. Again." After Derpy and Time Turner started dating, they had been having even more exciting adventures in the TARDIS, several of which included vacations to a cold volcano during the summer. And since they had all of space and time, that volcano would never run out for them. They were at the such place now, doing some repair jobs to the infamous police box, as well as some refueling. The volcano was also a placeholder for a rift in time. Not as good as the one in Cardiff, but it would have to do. The TARDIS was infamous to many universes. The sound of its engines would bring hope to the innocent, and strike fear into the hearts of the cruel. In this universe, where he was now Doctor Whooves, all it appeared to be was just a phone box with a broken phone. Key word: appeared to be. It was really a spaceship that could travel anywhere in space and time. She was also alive and aware. She also had quite an attitude. This actually wasn't the first time Derpy had lost the Doctor's second most famous gadget. Ah, the sonic screwdriver; works on everything except wood. The Doctor had had it for so long that the psychic imprint that had been left on it contained 900 years of his millennium of adventure. He who had the sonic, had the memories of The Doctor. But if they absorbed all those memories that weren't their's, their minds would burn. So it was imperative that he get it back before it fell into the wrong hands, lest an evil being, or worse, an innocent claim the mind-burning knowledge. Like the Doctor's real name, the question hidden in plain sight, or the secrets of the time vortex. A time lord could process that information, but he was the last one. "Wait! Never mind. I found it. Whew. Crises averted. But why was it under the box marked "S"? I didn't put it there. Hmm, moving on!" He soniced (Is that a word? It is now!) the time distortion detector, which he thought took too long to say, so he called it the TDD. It was the last part that needed repair, and then they could get going. But he noticed that something was off with the detector. It detected a time distortion before he even calibrated it. "Oh, you stubborn girl. You had to leave one system online for the repairs to this room, didn't you?" "Who ya talking to, Doc?" Derpy peeped from over the console. "Aah! No one. Nobody at all. I'm a madman trapped in a box, remember?" "I remember rule number one." He sighed. "The Doctor lies. But I'm still not telling you! Haha! Anyways, this computer screen shows that there's a fixed point being altered sometime out there. That's not good. I'm afraid our honeymoon is going to be cut short. Allons-y!" The TARDIS took off, leaving that iconic sound behind to the witness: A Weeping Angel in a ponified form. It was smiling. I dare not show you it's grin. The image of an Angel is itself an Angel you know. But inside the stone shell it could still think. Run, like you always have and always will, son of Gallifrey. You will not escape next the next time I find you. Back in the TARDIS, the console was spewing sparks. "What's happening to her?" Derpy asked. "When we're going to is being distorted temporally. The TARDIS doesn't like it. We're going for an emergency landing! Brace for impact!" Tap "Got all your limbs, Ditzy?" "I can move. What happened?" "Yeah, you're fine. I was kind of expecting something more along the lines of "Kaboom" or "Splash" but "Tap"? Now I'm disappointed." He looked up and yelled. "Come on fate! I know you can do better!" He stomped over to the door. "Where did we land, anyway?" He opened the door, and the phone rang. "Who is this and how did you get this number? Lyra? All right, what is the day? August? The Gala?! I better get dressed; we're on top of the castle right now! Yes, Derpy is still travelling with me. But seriously, how did you get this number? The internet?! You found my time-travelling phone number on the internet? Oh, the humans' internet? How did it reach all the was over here? Never mind, that's a story for another day. You gonna be here tonight? Cool, see ya there. Bye!" He hung up the phone, and turned back to stare at Derpy. "What?" "Do you have a dress? We're going to a party." It was about a month after that grisly murder in Las Pegasus A.K. Yearling had been secluded as ever, keeping to herself, writing her books about her double life, except when she went to the local town, Vanhoover for the necessary supplies. Even then, she always looked over her back whenever she went into town. It wasn't exactly what she would call "completely safe". But then again, that made the town quite colorful, especially when she got into a fight as her alternate identity. But in all honesty, A.K. Yearling was the real alternate identity. The original, and real identity was Daring Do, adventurer and treasure hunter. Since she was a character in a book, no one would come looking for her. Usually. There was one time with a sky-blue Pegasus pony named Rainbow Dash, who looked remarkably similar to her. Somehow neither of them noticed this fact. She ended up being in one of her books. Because she was so secluded, she never expected to get a letter. Her mailbox was so useless and unfilled that she often wondered why she never got rid of it. But the answer to her pondering those many times was there, in her mailbox. The mail pony went along on his rounds, delivering packages and letters across all of Equestria. That mail came 'round every two weeks, taking one week for the entire trip. One thing was certain about him: he was very dedicated to his job. Daring Do had watched him pass by her house hundreds of times, but she only had mail around once a year, sometimes less. So she was definitely surprised when this letter came to her house: Send to the residence of A.K. Yearling, by order of Princess Twilight Sparkle, the Fourth Princess, etc. Ms. Yearling, I, Princess Twilight Sparkle, cordially invite you to the Grand Galloping Gala of 2014. Now that formalities are dealt with, let's talk on the less formal side of things. Rainbow Dash would be disappointed if you weren't there, and so would I. Since reaching princess-hood, I have gained the ability to pull some strings in places. I use one string to get a ticket for you. You will find it enclosed in the parcel I have sent you. Since you haven't much social contact in a while, I feel compelled to help out with your social life. (Not to be insulting, I'm sure you understand) I also believe you need more experience with public events. I do hope you can come to the Gala in a few days. Your friend, Twilight Sparkle. P.S. You should see Rarity about a dress if you choose to come. Usually, she can be found in Ponyville at the Carousel Boutique. Enclosed: One ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala Daring Do knew that Twilight was right. She was distant form society. It was about time to attend a social event that didn't involve a bar fight or an encounter with Athuzotl. She found some parchment, and wet the tip of a quill. She wrote her reply: Princess Twilight Sparkle Golden Oak Library Ponyville, Equestria Dear Twilight, You're right. I do need at least some social interaction. You will see me at the Gala in a few days. This better be worth the trek, though. When I get to Ponyville, I will travel with you to Canterlot after I get the mess of the dress sorted out. Hope to see you soon. From, A.K. Yearling She packed some saddlebags, and started heading south to Ponyville and her friends. "Does this work for me?" "No, it's too sparkly. Try something toned down." "This?" "Oh, you would look beautiful an that, Ditzy. Try it on while I find something." Doc rummaged through the massive room that he used as the wardrobe of the TARDIS. He did find something that looked like it would work well for the Gala. When he came out with it in his hoof, he saw Derpy, transformed into one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. "Oh, I have no words except: you look great." "What do you have for the party?" "A bow tie, and a blue suit. It's like one that 10 wore, but it's not the same." "How does a bow tie fit for the fancy Gala?" "Bow ties are cool." Author's Note There was one time with a sky-blue Pegasus pony named Rainbow Dash, who looked remarkably similar to her. I can and I will remark about it.
His Blood Really is BlueChapter 3 The Grand Galloping Gala. One of the biggest pubic gatherings in all of Equestria, but also one of the biggest bores to Celestia, until last year anyway. That was actually fun to her. Thousands of attendants crammed into Canterlot for a night, only to have it emptied by the next morning. Some of the attendants included Doctor Whooves and Derpy, The Mane 6, Inspector Sherlock Hooves and Detective Hidden Detail, A.K. Yearling, The Wonderbolts, and so many more. It had been three weeks since the grisly murder. The detectives had run into every single dead end they could find in the case, leaving them with little hope to catch the killer. To ease their minds, Sherlock procured two tickets to the Gala. Though he would not admit it, he was growing a somewhat attachment to her. This he would definitely not admit because of what happened to his ancestor. But he still had a feeling when he was around her. But no, she wasn't that attractive. And if he did tell her about it, it would probably come out awkward and embarrassing. Dear Luna! So many mixed feelings! he thought at one time. Come on, stay calm. You're here to ease you and your partner's nerves, not jumpstart them! He got back on track; he was here to enjoy a celebration, and that was it. What could possibly go wrong at a celebration, other than my emotions getting the better of me? Someone clearly did not hear about last year's Gala. The dressed up Doctor and beautiful Ditzy trotted up to the castle's drawbridge. They were both hoping that there would be an excellent party tonight. "Greetings, booth guy! I am Doctor Smith, and I have an invitation plus one to the Gala. Would you be so kind as to let us in? From what I've heard about the last one, this is a party that cannot be missed." The Doctor flashed his slightly psychic paper at the guard in the ticket booth. "Yeah, whatever. Come on in. Enjoy the party. Et cetra. Et cetra." Clearly this was someone who didn't take their job seriously. "My word, Ditzy! Is that guy bored out of his mind or what? Ah, well what can you do? Some people choose to be bored. Oops, I said people. Got to stop thinking out loud, Doctor. Oh, there I go doing it again! I'm not crazy, am I?" "Sure, Doc. But don't worry about that! We have the rest of the party to look up to! I wonder if they have muffins?" "My goodness! This is common carnival fare! Why did she advise me to try something like this? My lips are tainted by this less than civilized substance! Someone get this poison away from me!" Applejack was enraged for the second year in a row now. "You know what, Blueblood? I don't give a damn what you think! This is some of the finest product to leave Ponyville, and you ate part of it, so you're paying for it. Then, you will pay for your rudeness, you ass! So why don't you tell your guards to leave before it get's ugly, so I can make you pay? Or are ya a coward?" "How dare you, you filthy-" "No, no. I ain't filthy, but in a moment, you will be." Applejack took an old apple pie she was saving for him and threw it into Blueblood's face. "That was for last year. This is for now." She took an apple she had on hand in case he showed up, (or rather on hoof) and smashed it into his face. It was a rotten apple so it was mushy and brown on the inside, and now it was on Blueblood in an apple-flavored mess. "My handsome face is soiled! Guards, arrest her!" The guard were laughing their flanks off. "Why? You are an ass! Hahahah!" "I don't know why we were stuck working with this over-expecting, demanding, selfish ass, Hehe. But now I'm glad we were!" "Someone arrest them all! I have been humiliated!" He ran off to somewhere isolated, sobbing. Rarity popped up behind Applejack's cart, a grin of satisfaction on her face. "I do say that our plan went smoothly. Nice throws, Applejack!" They did something that could be compared to a high five or a fist bump. (since I am not sure what such a thing would be called) "Do you think he shall return?" "Naw. If I know other's enough, and from our experiences I think we should, he won't be back in a while. Either a while or a half-hour." The guards came up to them for two reasons. "Thanks a million for doing that; it was about time he got what was coming for him. But I need to ask you." "What?" "Do you have a permit to sell? Because we are hungry after taking care of his grumpyness." Meanwhile, Blueblood ran to his room to stay out of as many eyes as possible. He cleaned off his face, only to realize that the stench of rotten apples wasn't coming off. He locked the door so he could take a bath without disturbance. The detectives were having a much better time than the mistaken royal. (mistaken implying his status was a mistake) They had found that a pony named Applejack was selling apple pie at one of the stalls. They needed only to search for some ice cream after that part. t wan't very hard to find. "Sherlock, I can't believe you haven't tried apple pie and ice cream together! That is one of the very things to try before you die. That is like not eating pizza in your entire life." "I'll trust you on that. Here goes." With one hearty bite, he took in the cold goodness of ice cream and the warm goodness of apple pie. The flavor and contrast was enjoyable to him very much. "Wow! This is spectacular!" "I know right? Ooh, the air show is about to start. We don't want to miss that!" As they looked up, they saw the Wonderbolts flying overhead with smoke trails following them. Spitfire flew in the middle with her fiery trail snaking after her. The other two circled around her, creating the illusion of a cylinder. It was as if a bullet was being fired down the barrel of a rifle or some other gun. Alas, this had a meaning to Sherlock that he did not wish to relive. He had served 3 years in the lunar royal army, only to be given an honorable discharge after a battle with some Griffon mercenaries. One by one, his comrades were gunned down until only he and his CO were left. He could remember each of the faces of the combatants, on both sides, far too clearly. Enraged at losing his brothers and sisters in arms, he had killed all of the mercenaries single-handed. He had saved his commanding officer and they made it home, to receive a personal commendation and an honorable discharge from Princess Luna herself, but at the cost of part of his soul. After he snapped out of the bloody rage he had found himself in, he wondered if he would ever regain it. Some of the soldiers didn't even bodies left for a burial. Damn explosives. Damn Griffons. Damn that pointless war. At least everyone in the battle left with intact honor, in one way or another. The image of a gun going off was all it took for him to feel every emotion and memory all over again. He sat down and clutched his head at the mental pan inflicted upon him once more. He saw no air show, only a bad memory. And another reason for him to not get too attached to anything, or anyone. "Are you alright, Holmes?" "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute. I think I have had too much of that ice cream. Getting a brain freeze." It may have been a lie, but it was a clever one given the circumstances. Knock-knock "Who in Celestia's name could be at the door? Can't I wallow in shame on my own?" Blueblood was not taking kindly to any more visitors tonight. Not after what happened, anyway. He got up from his bed and stomped to the door in annoyance. "Who is it? I'm tired!" He opened the door to see a pony in a suit: an official by the looks of it. "Prince Blueblood, I'm with the PIA, the Pony Intelligence Agency. We have reason to believe that your life is at risk. Can I come in, please?" He flashed his shining badge at the moping one. "Mymymy my life? Surely you jest? Uh, come in. Eep." He showed in the agent and locked the door. He rushed to get some of the candies he had in his place. He wanted to look good in front of a government official especially if this was going on the record."So what is the threat to mymy life? Is it dangerous?" "We took notice of a death threat issued to you written in blood on a dead body. What we are dealing with is somepony who is good at killing others without remorse." "So what are you doing about it?" "The Las Pegasus Police Department is hard at work, trying to find the murderer, but I have been sent here to guard you until the threat has passed." With Blueblood's back turned, he came closer. "We also have confirmation that the killer is at the Gala at this very moment." "So can you protect me until- Urk!" He was stopped by the piano wire wrapped firm around his neck. "Let me go, I demand you! I am a Prince!" The wire cut into his neck, and he complained no more except for the gargling of blood. Then the head came off. "I said 'guard', not protect. And now the threat has passed. Time for another clue." He smeared another message of blood on the floor. "His blood really is blue. Goodbye, you royal pain." He exited the lavish apartment-style home and locked the door, sliding the key under it. The clue written: What a wonderful world
InterviewsChapter 4: "Prince Blueblood? You have been in there for quite some time, you need to get out of there, or the public will be concerned." No answer to the servant, though, he might also be considered a butler. "There is no probable cause for you to be in there for this long. It is irrational." Still no answer. "Fine. I'm coming in there, but no longer that I have to." He inserted the key he had been entrusted with into the lock, and the door creaked open. The first thing that he noticed out of place was the key on the floor. "Hmm. Now I have to pick up after your messes. Hmph!" He place the key on the nearby table that was at the entryway: a sensible place to put your keys. He looked to the floor to see the tracks of dirt in the imprint of horseshoes leading into and out of the place of residence. "Had some company tonight, eh? Well, I can imagine that it was another one of those phony salesponies that intend to walk throughout the house, 'browsing' as they claim to be doing. You always fall for that trick." The next thing he notice out of place was the bowl of candied pineapples. They weren't just eaten, the entire bowl was gone. Usually, if this happened, Blueblood was moping or crying. This happened last year when his "date" had enough of his unchivalrous tendencies. "Have you taken the sweets into your room again? If so, did someone else humiliate you this year?" He entered the living room to see dots of blue fluid staining the carpet. He knew about the medical condition Buleblood had: his blood was actually blue. "Caught a bloody muzzle, have you? I'll find a tissue box for you if I find it." The important thing he noticed out of place: the body of Blueblood, with a message written in fluid drained from his corpse. "Holy Celestia, that is not good." "So you were the one to discover the body?" Hidden Detail asked. "Yes. I am his butler, but sometimes he treated me like a servant. I come around to service him every morning, noon, and evening. But this evening... is my last." "Do you know if anyone who would wish to harm him?" "I could give you a list of suspects, but it would not narrow it down much. He is... was not very charismatic, and lacked politeness and chivalry. He cared only for himself. You could ask his date last year; he treated her poorly." "What is her name?" "I believe it is Rarity." "Anything else you can tell me?" "There were track in and out of the house. They led into an alleyway, but I'm not sure from there." "Why don't we see?" "Alright, detective. Let's see." They followed the trail of hoof prints, hoping that they would lead to some evidence to catch the killer. What they found was a smoldering suit, shoes and tie, and a burnt rubber mask. Also in the mix was a crispy can of spray paint. "Damn it! The evidence is here, but it's tampered. And no suspect either." "Thank you, captain obvious." "I'm not a captain yet. Besides, that job is taken. Can you show me who this 'Rarity' is?" "Your name is 'The Doctor'? That's not a name, it's a pseudonym. An A.K.A. Who are you, really?" "The Doctor is my code name detective..." "Sherlock Hooves. Now show me a real ID, else I will have to have you arrested for obstruction of justice." "Okay, fine." "That paper is blank, sir." "Oh! Why is the detective of the police so smart?! Ditzy, please help me with this guy." "He's an alien from another world with a phone box that can travel anywhere in time and space, and if anyone knows his real name bad stuff will happen." "Derpy!" "Thank you for telling the truth. Was that really so hard... Doctor?" "Why is the officer coming over to me? I didn't do anything wrong." Rarity told herself "Rarity, is it?" "Yes, madame. What do you require?" "I am detective Hidden Detail, and Prince Blueblood is dead." "Sweet Celestia! Who happens to be present, actually. I meant to humiliate him, not drive him to suicide!" "No, no! You didn't do that! I think. He was murdered, by the looks of it. But to cut to the chase, did you kill him?" "No! Applejack here can vouch for me." "'s true. She was with me the whole time." "Do you know of anypony who would wish to do him harm?" "Let me think... Oh, I would say about a couple thousand individuals. Blueblood was a total... jerk! Even I would be driven to hurt him after last year. You shouldn't be looking at Canterlot, but at all of Equestria!" "So, now we have no leads. Terrific." Author's Note I tried to make the servant/butler British-sounding.
