Small Town, Big Business

by Shamrock95

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Bon-Bon, Adventure, Random, Main 6, Lyra
Length: 15487

A con merchant comes to Ponyville with the goal of draining the town's wallets and increasing a very particular type of "inflation".

Of all the fields of business that one could choose to start a career in, very few are as cutthroat or as demanding as the food industry. It is a field marked by intense competition and razor-thin margins, where even the smallest error can mean the difference between success and failure.

But what if there was a way to avoid the stress and panic that can accompany such a demanding and competitive industry? What if there was a way to ensure beyond doubt that ponies would keep coming back to your business for your food, day after day? Would you not take it?

Well, one particular new entrepreneur decided to do just that, when he set up shop in the small town of Ponyville. He had an idea—an idea that would surely make his humble enterprise the most successful of its kind in all of Equestria. What follows is the tale of how it came to be, just what kind of effect it had on that little town... and how that little town became, in a certain sense of the word, a very big town indeed.

Wrote this on DA just about a year ago, and finally found the motivation to move it on over here. Enjoy!

Published 2016-05-02 09:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-02 09:50:01 UTC

Chapter 1

Hotshot shuffled his hooves impatiently as he tried to ignore the chill breeze blowing down the Manehattan alley in which he stood. The teal-coloured earth pony had been waiting on his contact for a little over forty minutes now. Many other ponies would have simply called it a night and headed home after being kept waiting for so long, and in any other case, Hotshot may have done the same. But not tonight. This meeting was too important; the success of his plans for the coming days hinged upon it. He'd stand there and wait all night if he had to.

Not that those sentiments did him any favours against the bucking cold. He shivered, and wondered for the umpteenth time just where in Tartarus his guy was.

As if on cue, a silhouette appeared against the bright street lights at the far end of the alley. It merged back into the shadows as the figure approached Hotshot. Once they were close enough, the figure became more distinct, until it took on the form of a unicorn stallion with a beechwood brown coat and bluish-silver mane. Hotshot glared at the new arrival.

"You're late," he stated simply.

The unicorn made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. "Surely you don't mind waiting for something this important to you?" he asked. His accent was peculiar; mostly Manehattanite, but with the careful pronunciations and inflections of somepony who'd learned Equestrian as a second language. "All you've been talking about all month is how your whole future depends on this."

"Cut to the chase, Astuto," Hotshot snapped. He'd been waiting in the cold wind in this Celestia-forsaken alley for far too long, and was in no mood for being heckled. "Have you got it or not?"

Astuto blinked, then smiled. "Of course," he said silkily. His horn illuminated and produced a small grey plastic case from his saddlebags. "There are a dozen vials in here. Just put one drop of this in your wares, and anypony who tries them will be incapable of turning them down from that point forward."

Hotshot smiled, the first true display of camaraderie he'd shown to Astuto that night. "Excellent. Once I get this stuff into my food and start selling it, I'll be on easy street."

"You remember our deal, correct?" Astuto asked. "I supply you with more vials as you need them..."

"...and I cut you in on twenty percent of the profit," Hotshot finished. Satisfied with his answer, Astuto levitated the case over to Hotshot, who took it and carefully placed it in his own saddlebag. He then took out a brown pouch and handed it to Astuto. "And that's the down payment of two hundred bits, as requested."

Astuto nodded and took the pouch. "Where did you say you were setting up shop, again?"

"Ponyville," Hotshot replied. "It's a town a few miles south of Canterlot. It's the perfect place to do business; small enough that it's relatively off the grid, but large enough that I can guarantee a steady supply of... loyal customers." He smirked. "Getting to the top there should be a snap. Pretty soon, I'll have a great deal of ponies beating a path to my door, and a nice flow of income to show for it."

Astuto grinned. "Sounds like you have it all planned out. Well, friend, I wish you the very best of luck. I hope your plan goes well."

"Oh, it will," Hotshot murmured to himself, as Astuto turned and made his way back to the noise and lights of the street. "It definitely will."

For as long as he could remember, Hotshot had thought of himself as a pragmatic sort of pony. He believed that if there was any kind of opportunity you could exploit to get ahead, you should take it. To do otherwise would simply be foolish. Opportunities were there to be taken. If you didn't take it, somepony else would, so it might as well be you, right?

It was that kind of attitude that had led Hotshot to the world of business and entrepreneurship. A field that was marked by competition and exploiting opportunities and weaknesses had sounded like the sort of thing that would fit him like a glove. As it turned out, he was right; he studied at Manehattan University for a major in business studies and a minor in marketing, and passed both with flying colours.

The next logical step had been to choose a field of business to go to work in. After some deliberation, Hotshot finally decided on the food industry—an industry that was notoriously cutthroat, but at the same time offered great rewards for those who succeeded. Some of the wealthiest ponies in Equestria were restaurateurs or celebrity chefs. That kind of high life was the sort of thing that Hotshot had dreamed about since starting his degree all those years ago.

Before he actually got started, however, there was a thought that kept coming back to him. It was no secret that opening a restaurant was a very risky endeavour; there were hundreds of restaurants that had gone bust over the years due to stiff competition, a poor choice of location, or simply being too optimistic with their business projections. Even the restaurants that did succeed nearly always started out barely breaking even, or even running at a loss, until they could get their names on the map.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that if you could get your name on the map right away—open the doors, immediately get ponies to love your food, and hit the ground running from the very start—you could potentially make a lot of money.

For a while, Hotshot had dismissed this idea as pure fantasy. No business could ever start booming from day one. Even if you served the best food in Equestria, you'd still have to worry about competition in the area. Ponies all had different tastes, and there was no way to guarantee that they would choose your restaurant over another one, especially not from the day you opened.

Then another thought had occurred to Hotshot; maybe it wasn't possible using any of the techniques he'd learned in college, but what about other... less conventional means?

Of course, "less conventional" was often synonymous with "illegal", but that didn't concern Hotshot. At the end of the day, legality and morality wasn't really relevant. As the old saying went, nice guys finish last. So, was there some way he could get ponies hooked on his food and his restaurant to take off right away?

Over the next few months, Hotshot carefully and calmly gave the idea considerable thought. He did as much research as he could on eating enchantments and potions, but all the ones he found were merely temporary—nothing that would have any long-term effects. Refusing to give up, he pressed on, and finally came across a particular potion in a book. When he read about it, he wondered if all the research he'd been doing had caused him to lose track of the date, because this was surely Hearth's Warming Day.

According to the book, there was a plant native to Griffonstone called Ranunculus pinguedinem, more informally known as the blubbercup. A tasteless and odourless potion could be extracted from this plant that would cause any food it was applied to to become irresistible to anypony who tasted it. The more that particular pony ate, the greater their attraction to that food would become, until they were essentially addicted to it. Unfortunately, there was a stumbling block—blubbercup essence was a banned substance in Equestria, and had been ever since a failed attempt by the griffons to use it to incapacitate the Royal Guard about a century ago. If Hotshot wanted that potion, he'd have no choice but to go behind the law's back to get it.

Hotshot had spent the next two months asking around Manehattan's seedier bars and clubs, looking for somepony who had an inside line on contraband. Finally, he had met Astuto, a freelancer who specialised in black market goods. To Hotshot's delight, Astuto had told him that not only could he reliably and discreetly supply him with blubbercup essence, but his contacts in Griffonstone meant that he could do so on demand.

Thus was how Hotshot had struck a deal with Astuto. Once he had the blubbercup essence and opened his doors in Ponyville for the first time, all he had to do was get a few ponies to taste his food, and the rest would be easy pickings. A massive flow of income, and no way for any competition to touch him.

A pragmatic solution to a pragmatic problem.

Chapter 2

Hotshot nervously chewed his bottom lip as he gave his new premises the once-over. Even with a plan as foolproof as his, he still couldn't help but feel a few butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. He supposed that was a natural response to taking a step this big—opening a restaurant was a pretty big deal, after all.

One thing he was very pleased with himself over was the location he had picked for the restaurant, which was to be simply named Hotshot's Grill. The building where the restaurant was to be housed used to be a shop that sold quills and sofas, until it went bust and the owner put it up for sale. Hotshot had managed to buy the place for a song, and its location really was perfect for a small town restaurant. It was quite close to the centre of town, pretty much guaranteeing that everypony in town would at least catch sight of it before long, and was therefore an excellent spot for snapping up potential customers. Hotshot was also pleased to note that it was just a short walk away from the local schoolhouse. Fillies and colts could usually be counted on to have some pocket money on them, and there was potential to do a pretty good trade with them during lunchtime, especially if they were offered some kind of special discount. All in all, the restaurant's location in town was just about perfect.

Once Hotshot had bought the building, he'd set about equipping it to run as a restaurant. The place now held an oven, a grill, a refrigerator, some tables and chairs, and a neat little desk and cash register. Most importantly, in a small case next to the fridge were a dozen vials of blubbercup essence, ready to be surreptitiously added to whatever Hotshot was cooking and to hook whichever poor sap who took a bite.

Now that the preparations were done, all that was left for Hotshot to do was open the doors and wait for some customers to turn up. Again, he felt that twinge of excitement and nerves as he stood patiently behind the counter, tapping his hoof and whistling tunelessly through his teeth.

After a few more minutes of waiting, he heard voices and laughter coming from outside. He looked out through the front door and saw that there were three ponies walking and talking together, and it looked like they were headed towards the restaurant. He took a deep breath.

This is it, he thought to himself. The moment of truth.

Taking another few breaths to steady his nerves, he glanced back to the kitchen for a reassuring glimpse of the case containing the vials. He then turned his attention back to the door as the three ponies entered.

The three ponies were all pegasi; one a charcoal stallion with a silver mane styled into a Mohican, and two lilac mares. Hotshot steeled himself and gave them his best small-town "how can I help y'all?" smile. "Hi there!" he said cheerfully. "Welcome to Hotshot's Grill, how can I help you?"

"Hey there," the stallion replied, giving Hotshot a friendly smile of his own. "We were just passing by and noticed this place, figured we'd grab some lunch. I don't think we've seen you around before. Have you just opened?"

Hotshot nodded. "That's right," he said proudly. "Name's Hotshot, owner and proprietor, and you three are my first customers."

"Awesome!" the stallion beamed. "Well, welcome to Ponyville. I'm Thunderlane, and this is Flitter and Cloudchaser," he said, pointing a hoof at each respective mare, who gave Hotshot a smile and a "hi" in return. "We just got off shift from the weather patrol and we've worked up a bit of an appetite. Is there anything you'd recommend?"

"Well, I've been told my oat burgers are pretty good. Could I tempt you with one of those?" Hotshot asked.

"Sounds good," Thunderlane replied. "I'll take one."

"Actually, I'll have one too, please," Cloudchaser added, with Flitter nodding and echoing her.

"Okay, so that's three oat burgers. Give me a minute and I'll have them right out." Hotshot gave them yet another smile, before turning and heading into the kitchen.

After grabbing a couple of oat patties from the fridge and grilling them to a toasty brown, Hotshot prepared to add the most important ingredient of all. With slightly trembling hooves, he opened the case containing the vials and withdrew one, uncapped it and drew out a small amount of blubbercup essence using a dropper. Then, very carefully, he applied three drops of essence to each of the oat burgers. If the essence was as potent as Astuto had said, three drops would be more than enough to get those three schmucks addicted in no time. Once he'd done that, he dressed the burgers up with ketchup and lettuce and took them back out to his patiently waiting customers.

"Alright, here we are! Three oat burgers, as requested. That'll be twelve bits, if you don't mind," he said cheerfully, trying his hardest not to let any nerves show on his face. Inside, though, his stomach was turning faster than a hurricane.

"Great, thanks," Thunderlane replied, placing the money on the counter as Flitter and Cloudchaser grabbed their food, before taking his own burger. Heart pounding, Hotshot watched as the three ponies opened their mouths and took a bite from each of their burgers.

The effect was fast, taking hold almost as soon as the trio swallowed their first mouthfuls. Thunderlane's eyes went wide and his ears pricked up, Flitter's mane and fur prickled, and Cloudchaser's wings flared up with a comical springing sound. There was a beat for maybe half a second, before all three ponies shoved the burgers into their mouths and chewed as if they hadn't seen food in a week. Hotshot was startled. He hadn't expected the effects to be quite that dramatic.

Within seconds, the ponies had finished wolfing down their burgers, and Thunderlane was looking at Hotshot with hungry eyes and a ketchup-smeared mouth.

"C... can I get a-another one?" he stuttered.

"Yeah, I-I want another one, too," Cloudchaser said, looking almost desperate.

"Me too, p-p-please!" Flitter added, nodding and trembling slightly.

"Um... uh, sure," Hotshot said, trying to contain the ten-metre wide grin that was threatening to break out across his face. He returned to the kitchen and cooked up three burgers the same as before. This time, he decided to only add one drop of essence to each of them, to see if that had any less of an effect on them. When he took the burgers out, the trio tore into them just as ravenously as before, with loud chewing and slurping noises that would surely have given even the most uncouth pony pause.

They demanded a third round of burgers, and Hotshot obliged, this time electing to add no essence to them. If they tore into those burgers the same way they had with the last two, then Hotshot would know for certain that he had them well and truly hooked. And sure enough, they made short work of the burgers in a matter of seconds. Hotshot was almost beside himself with joy. This was almost too good to be true!

"You know," he said casually, as he watched the three new addicts swallow their last mouthfuls of burger, "I do a bit of a takeout service, too. I can put some burgers into a doggy bag for you guys to have later, if you want."

"How many have you got?" Thunderlane demanded, staring at him wildly like he was hungering for something much stronger than a burger.

"Um..." Hotshot tried to remember how many patties he'd seen in the fridge. "Thirty?" he replied.

"We'll take them all!" Thunderlane, Flitter and Cloudchaser screamed in unison.

"Really?" Hotshot said, trying to look surprised while fighting the urge to laugh with pure glee. "Guys, that's about a hundred and twenty bits. Are you-"

"Put it on credit! Just give me those burgers!" Thunderlane shouted desperately. Beside him, Flitter and Cloudchaser looked so frantic that they looked like they were on the verge of tears, with wide eyes and gritted teeth. They'd no care for worries about money or debt, only getting more of those burgers that they so badly needed.

Within ten minutes, the three pegasi had flown off with ten burgers each stuffed into their saddlebags. Hotshot watched them go, before turning and calmly walking into the kitchen. Once he was safely alone in there, he allowed his delight to finally surface, letting out a great whoop and doing a little jig where he stood, laughing euphorically.

It had worked! Those three ponies had fallen under his spell like it was nothing! Before now, Hotshot had had his doubts about his plan. But now, as he looked at the cheque for a hundred and twenty bits lying on the counter, he knew one thing was an absolute certainty.

Hotshot's Grill was going to be huge.

Chapter 3

The doors of Hotshot's Grill had been closed for the day, and Hotshot was looking over his earnings for his first day in business, all while grinning and laughing like a stallion who'd been given a new lease on life. To say that his first day in business had been a success would have been such an understatement that it would not have done justice to the term "understatement" itself. The day had gone better than he had ever dared to imagine.

After those three pegasi had flown out the door carrying a month's worth of oat burgers between them, Hotshot had seen quite a few other customers come through his door as the residents of Ponyville went about their daily routines that afternoon. All through the afternoon, he had gone through the routine of acting nice to the customers, giving them their food, and watching them take a single bite before descending upon it like ravenous timberwolves and leaving while carrying at least a week's worth of food with them. He smirked as he remembered some of the customers whose reaction had particularly stuck in his mind. There was the mare who had literally whooped with joy when he told her that she could get as much pizza as she wanted on credit, and had ended up clearing him out. The stallion who had nearly gone catatonic after trying the chilli hay fries. The two Filly Scouts who had come in with a load of money made from selling cookies—and had then proceeded to spend it all on his own cookies, appropriately enough.

All told, Hotshot had made an incredible total of 1,780 bits on his first day; these Ponyville folks obviously had more money to burn than he'd expected. Of course, that was before he gave Astuto his twenty percent cut, and he'd have to get more supplies to replace the ones that his new addicts/regulars had torn through, but he would still be making a very nice profit after all of that. Besides, he planned to keep the cost of ingredients down by simply buying the cheapest ones available. It wasn't like his customers would care about the quality of the food once the blubbercup essence had its grip upon them.

If he'd made this much in a single day, Celestia knew how much he'd be making once he had even more ponies under his hoof. It was a rare example of a virtuous cycle; ponies see other ponies eating at Hotshot's daily, ponies figure food must be very good, ponies try food, ponies get hooked, repeat. It was a cycle that, before long, would make him an extremely wealthy stallion.

And who knew? Sometime in the future, he might even be able to expand his operations all over Equestria, becoming the sole dominant force in the restaurant business as entire cities fell under his spell. But Hotshot was careful not to get ahead of himself; that would take a lot of time, and a lot of money. For now, he was content to keep fleecing these silly small-town hicks. That was their problem, really—they were too naive, too trusting. But hey, that was the opportunity Hotshot had seen and taken.

And what a great opportunity it was, he thought, laughing again as he locked the cash register and set about writing up a mail order for some cheap and nasty ingredients. If he hurried, he could get it to the post office before they closed. He needed the ingredients—he expected to have a lot more customers in the coming days.

It had been a week since Hotshot had first opened the doors of his restaurant, and true to his predictions, more and more of the residents of Ponyville had wandered in after seeing others gorging themselves on his food, and had wandered out gorging themselves in the exact same manner. He'd been working flat out all afternoon to keep up with the demands of his ever-growing horde of customers, some of whom were returning twice or even thrice daily to place another exorbitant order. He gave thanks to the fact that he'd bulk-bought those new ingredients—if he hadn't, he'd have had to close his doors only midway through the afternoon due to the sheer demand exceeding the supply. As it was, though, he was moving at a comfortable pace. He'd already sent Astuto his cut of the profits, and was now waiting for an expected delivery of blubbercup essence later that day.

The door opened for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, and Hotshot looked up, expecting it to be the delivery. Instead, it was a sight that brought a smile to his face. It was Thunderlane, one of his first customers and fast becoming one of his best customers. It was all Hotshot could do to keep himself from laughing out loud when he saw the state of the guy after a week of stuffing himself with cheap fried oats and hay.

The once so stocky and athletic Thunderlane now wobbled and jiggled with every step. Large deposits of fat clung to his belly, flanks and cheeks, and a second chin was starting to form around his neck. Thunderlane didn't even seem to be aware of how much weight he'd gained, but even if he had, his desire for food would have far outweighed his desire to diet or exercise—which was, of course, just the way Hotshot liked it. Thunderlane puffed and panted slightly as he made his way to the counter.

"Hey, Thunderlane," Hotshot said cheerfully. "The usual dozen oat burgers, right?"

Thunderlane nodded, a hungry look in his eyes. "Yes, please. Whoof, is it just me, or is it getting warmer out? I seem to be getting more and more out of breath whenever I walk here," he said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with a pudgy hoof.

"Is it?" Hotshot said innocently, as he placed a tray of oat burgers on the counter in front of Thunderlane. "Gosh, I didn't notice. Oh, before you go, Thunderlane, I should probably tell you that I've had to raise the prices on oat burgers a little bit. Supply and demand, you know?"

"Oh?" Thunderlane said nervously.

"Yeah, from now on, it's going to go from four to eight bits per burger. Is that okay?"

Thunderlane bit his lip, before nodding and handing over ninety-six bits. As he waddled out the door carrying his precious food, a grey pegasus mare dressed in a postal worker's uniform trotted in carrying a parcel on her back.

"Hello!" she called out cheerfully to Hotshot. "I've got a package here for a Mister..." She squinted with unfocused eyes at the scrawled name on the address. "...Mister Hot Pocket?"

"Ah... yes, that would be me." Hotshot took the package from the mare. "Thanks." Then a thought occurred to him. "Oh, before you go, Miss..." He took a look at her nametag. "...Muffins, would you perhaps care for a sandwich or something? On the house, of course."

"Oh, my name's not Muffins," the pony said, giggling. "I'm just borrowing a coworker's uniform for the day. My real name is Derpy. And sure, why not? It'll save me having to get lunch later."

"Excellent," Hotshot grinned, handing her a simple daisy and lavender sandwich. When Derpy took a bite, her ears twitched and her eyes widened and momentarily correctly realigned themselves. She practically inhaled the rest of the sandwich.

"If you'd like another one, they're only a bit each," Hotshot said casually.

"I'll take twenty," Derpy spluttered, slamming a coin purse on the counter.

Hotshot smirked as yet another victim tore out the door carrying his wares with her. "This is just too easy."

Chapter 4

"So, Cloudchaser," Hotshot said as he placed yet another tray of oat burgers on the counter, "since you're such a frequent customer here, I wondered if perhaps you heard of our new delivery system that we plan to implement in the next few days?"

Cloudchaser paused in greedily snatching up her burgers to look at Hotshot. Like Thunderlane, she too had ballooned in weight since taking that first fateful bite a fortnight ago. She now sported a round, swaying belly and a well-padded rump, as well as a thicker neck and a pair of chubby cheeks that gave her foal-like dimples. Also like Thunderlane, she seemed to be oblivious to how much she had gained. "Delivery system?" she repeated.

Hotshot nodded. "That's right. I need to get a couple more ponies on board before I can actually go ahead with it, but you can sign up for it today if you want. You can have any food you want delivered to your door at any time of day. Payment is either cash on delivery or credit. What do you say?"

The thought of getting food delivered to her door made Cloudchaser's face light up like a hundred-watt bulb. Both she and Flitter were finding it harder and harder to make the flight across town to Hotshot's, and being able to cut their multiple trips there out entirely seemed like a dream come true.

"That sounds fantastic!" she said eagerly, her large gut swaying as she leaned forward in anticipation. "I'd like to sign up right now."

"Excellent," Hotshot replied. "I just need twenty bits up front and you'll be good to go."

Cloudchaser nodded absent-mindedly and handed over her money before trotting out carrying two grease-soaked paper bags stuffed with cheap oat burgers. Once she'd left, Hotshot turned off his charming salespony demeanour and engaged his calculating businesspony mode. He flipped the sign on the front door from "open" to "closed", taking advantage of a rare break in his afternoon rush. He made his way through the kitchen to the room beyond that served as his office. The room was sparsely but practically furnished, with a small filing cabinet, a desk and a swivel chair. Hotshot sat down in the chair and took hold of a list that was lying on the desk.

On the list were the names of the other major food businesses in Ponyville. Hotshot knew full well that those businesses would have been struggling more and more as more of the town fell into the grip of his food. The way he saw it, they'd leap at the chance to join in on his success. Once they agreed to join him, he could use them to sell his goods to even more ponies and spearhead his delivery service, helping him rake in even more money than he already was. Once again, a pragmatic approach.

It was time for a little acquisition.

"Oh, come on, Caramel! Are you sure I can't tempt you to at least a teeny-weeny cupcake? They're like, super-duper-looper tasty!" Pinkie Pie put on her widest smile and tried once again to cajole Caramel into buying some of her baked treats, but Caramel shook his head irritably.

"If it doesn't have chilli hay fries in it, I'm not interested," he said snippily, before turning and walking away, his well-padded rump bouncing slightly as he did so.

Pinkie's ears flattened and she hung her head. This was the fifth day in a row that the Cakes hadn't had any business—everypony was too busy eating at that new restaurant across town. She'd been trying for the past hour to convince passers-by to take their business to Sugarcube Corner instead, but had only received a few terse responses for her troubles. With an uncharacteristically dejected air about her, she turned and headed back inside.

When she re-entered the shop, she saw both Mr. and Mrs. Cake standing at the counter and talking to a teal earth pony stallion. Immediately, her heart soared. A customer! An actual customer! Maybe the Cakes weren't going out of business after all! Before Pinkie could say anything, though, Mr. Cake noticed her standing in the doorway.

"Ah, Pinkie!" he called. "Come in, sweetheart. We've got some great news for you!"

"Yes, indeed we do," the stallion agreed. He turned and gave Pinkie a big winner's smile. "I don't believe we've met before, Miss... Pinkie, was it? My name is Hotshot, and I'm here with a little business opportunity for Sugarcube Corner."

"It's the miracle we've been waiting for!" Mrs. Cake gushed.

Pinkie looked confused. "But wait, aren't you the guy who was taking business away from us? Why do you want to help us, all of a sudden?"

Hotshot chuckled. "Oh, Miss Pinkie, business doesn't have to always be sink or swim. If it's in their best interests, there's nothing wrong with two businesses helping each other out." He spun around to address the Cakes as well as Pinkie, who was now listening to him curiously. "Did you know that the Chineighse use the same word for 'crisis' as they do for 'opportunity'? Well, that's the philosophy I've always espoused. There's no point in driving yourself into the ground when you can potentially join forces with another and succeed together, is there?"

"There most certainly isn't," Mr. Cake agreed.

"But wait, I don't understand," Pinkie clamoured. "How can we do business with each other?"

"Well, as I was explaining to the Cakes before you got here, Pinkie," Hotshot explained, "I've been getting more demands for food than I can keep up with on my own. So what I suggest is that Sugarcube Corner become a subsidiary of Hotshot's Grill. You'll all still be working here, except that you'll be selling my own line of baked goods rather than yours. As well as that, I may need some help with my home delivery service that I'm planning to implement. The Cakes tell me that you know Ponyville like the back of your hoof, right?"

"Yes, sirree!" Pinkie said, nodding her head rapidly.

"Great, then you should be perfectly suited to making speedy deliveries. We'll split the profits evenly, and you'll also get a significant discount on my own food. You see? It's a deal that benefits everypony. Crisis into opportunity."

"We can't thank you enough, sir," Mrs. Cake said, looking at Hotshot with shimmering eyes. "My husband and I were almost certain that we'd have to close our doors for good."

"Well now, I wouldn't be very altruistic if I let that happen, would I?" Hotshot smiled. "I'm so glad that we were able to come to an arrangement. I'll deliver the first consignment of baked goods shortly."

"Wow!" Pinkie said, looking ready to burst with joy. "You know, when you first came to town, I thought you'd be one of those super-greedy meanie-pants sort of business owners, no offense of course, but now I can see that you're actually the good kind of business owner! I can't wait to start selling your baked goods, I bet they're awesome!"

Hotshot laughed. "It's always lovely to see a mare with such enthusiasm!" he said, as he stepped out of the door. "I look forward to doing business with you all!"

As Hotshot left the building with the Cakes and Pinkie waving cheerily after him, he mentally crossed Sugarcube Corner's name off the list in his head. There was one other business he wanted to take a look at that day, off on the other side of town. A second, smaller bakery, owned by somepony named Bon Bon. Hotshot understood that she wasn't the sort of mare who would easily buy into a partnership. If acquisition wasn't an option, then he'd take a look at the next best thing: elimination.

A short walk through town brought him to the bakery, where the front door was open to reveal Bon Bon herself standing at the counter. There were no customers and, judging by her despondent expression, there hadn't been any for a while. Hotshot stepped inside.

"Can I help you, sir?" Bon Bon asked, looking at him hopefully.

"I hope so, ma'am, I hope so," Hotshot replied. "My name is Hotshot, owner and proprietor of Hotshot's Grill."

Immediately, Bon Bon's expression changed from hopefulness to mild distaste. "Oh, yes?" she said, not even trying to hide the hint of venom in her voice.

"Look, Miss Bon Bon," Hotshot said cajolingly, "you should know as well as I do how cutthroat the food industry can be. We don't have to be competitors, you know. I've come to you today to propose that..."

"No," Bon Bon said simply.

Hotshot missed a beat. "Pardon me?"

"I said, no. I'm not interested in whatever you're planning to propose to me. I built this business..." Bon Bon gestured around the shop with a sweeping motion of her hoof. "...up from the dirt, and I didn't need anypony's help to do it, nor do I need help now. Especially not from a rival."

Hotshot fumed internally. These Celestia-damned country rubes, I swear...

"Miss Bon Bon, I understand that pride is important to you. But please, be reasonable here."

"Reasonable?" Bon Bon scoffed. "You think that me rolling over and letting you buy me out is reasonable? Well, let me tell you something, Mister Hotshot," she spat. "I've been in this business for nearly five years. I did it all. By. My. Self. I went bankrupt four times before I finally started to take off. I've had competition from no less than three other businesses in this town alone, and I have done fine. So, believe me, I'm not about to close my doors for you, or anypony else." Bon Bon puffed, her face slightly flushed from her mini-rant.

Hotshot blinked. He hadn't expected Bon Bon to be quite this vitriolic. Acquisition clearly wasn't an option.

Elimination it was, then.

Hotshot sighed. "Very well, Miss Bon Bon. I can see there's no changing your mind about this. Sorry for wasting your time." He turned around as if he meant to leave.

Bon Bon watched him with a triumphant expression, which quickly turned to shock as Hotshot spun around and shoved something into her mouth with lightning speed. A combination of shock and instinct made her bite into the doughy object and swallow it without thinking. Her eyes briefly rolled into the back of her head, before her legs started to tremble.

Hotshot watched her with a triumphant expression of his own. "Enjoyed that, did you?" he said silkily. "That was one of my very own cookies, Bon Bon. Would you like another one?"

Bon Bon shivered and moaned, completely under the blubbercup essence's spell. Hotshot leaned over the counter and whispered in her ear like a seductive lover.

"All you have to do is close your doors, and you can have as many of them as you can handle."

Bon Bon moaned again, then nodded. "Okay," she mumbled, "okay."

Satisfied that he had her under his control, Hotshot left a bag of cookies on the counter. He turned and left wordlessly just as Bon Bon tore the bag open and voraciously devoured the cookies behind him.

Fluttershy hummed happily as she got together her equipment for the butterfly migration that weekend. She always looked forward to the migration every year, and never lost that sense of foal-like wonder from watching such simple and delicate creatures move with such precision and coordination. It was poetic, in a way...

A knock at the door startled Fluttershy out of her reverie. She went to the door and opened it to find Pinkie Pie standing there with a smile and a paper bag in her mouth.

"Why, hello, Pinkie. What brings you out here?" Fluttershy asked.

"I juft wanne' do..." Pinkie placed the bag on the ground and started again. "I just wanted to come by and offer you some of Hotshot's doughnuts. We started working with him today, and I wanted to get in some practice as a delivery mare!"

"Hotshot's doughnuts?" Fluttershy repeated. "Isn't he that pony who opened that new restaurant where Quills and Sofas used to be?"

"Yep!" Pinkie nodded. "He was doing so super-duper well that he decided to join up with us and let us sell his food at Sugarcube Corner! Wasn't that so kind of him? I was so sure we were going to go out of business! Anyways, I already visited Applejack and Rarity and they just loved his doughnuts. In fact, they loved them so much that they've put in orders for the next month! And then I tried some and I loved them so much that I had to stop myself from eating yours, too! I had to keep telling myself, 'No, Pinkie, these are for Fluttershy', and it was like really hard, but I did it! So I'm sure you'll love them, too! Well, gotta go, Fluttershy, gotta be up nice and early for my delivery job tomorrow, see ya round!"

And with that, Pinkie had bounced off, leaving Fluttershy looking a little dazed. From what she'd gathered from Pinkie's gabbling, the doughnuts in the bag were very good. Shrugging, Fluttershy nosed into the bag and took a bite. Her mane stood on end and her wings sprung outwards, before she leapt on the bag like a lion tearing into an unfortunate gazelle.

Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie continued to happily bounce for home, blissfully unaware that she had sealed not just her own fate, but that of her friends, as well.

Chapter 5

One week later...

Rainbow Dash squinted as she picked up more and more speed, zooming around the few clouds that dotted the skies just outside Ponyville. Her cheeks pulled back slightly from wind resistance, she blinked a couple of tears out of her eyes just in time to see Ponyville appear on the horizon.

Dash smiled eagerly. After spending another three months at the Wonderbolts Academy to complete her advanced training alongside her fellow Wonderbolt Reserves, she was looking forward to seeing all her friends again and being able to forget about the Wonderbolts and the constant pressure of speed trials and formation flying for a while. Before she did any of that, though, she planned to visit Thunderlane and check in on him. She'd trusted him with leading the town weather patrol for the time she'd spent in Cloudsdale, and thought it wouldn't do any harm to stop by to thank him and see how things had gone.

Dash pulled down into a steep decline, the ground zooming up to meet her at a fantastic speed. After about five seconds of freefall, her wings flew open and her descent slowed, with her making a gentle landing just outside Thunderlane's house. She trotted up to the front door and gave it a series of firm raps with her hoof. When about thirty seconds passed with no response or movement from inside, Dash knocked again and called out.

"Thunderlane? You home?"

For some reason, Dash was beginning to feel a bit nervous. Something about the house felt... off. It was a non-specific sort of eeriness, the kind you get when you're walking down a dark street and can't shake the feeling that something's moving in the shadows. Dash was about to head off and try again later when she heard a noise from inside the house. It was a strange noise, to say the least; some kind of chewing or slurping, punctuated by a deeper wheezing sound.

Dash was torn. On the one hoof, her self-defence mechanism was telling her very loudly to turn around and fly far, far away from there. On the other hoof, her loyal side was telling her just as loudly that if Thunderlane was in danger, she couldn't just leave him there. In the end, loyalty won out.

A gentle push of the door saw it spring open slightly on the latch. The chewing and wheezing was louder, now. Dash remembered the calming exercise Rarity had taught her before she left for the Wonderbolts Academy for the first time: deep breath, hold it, then let it go. Taking as deep a breath she could and steeling herself for whatever lay inside, Dash pushed the door fully open.

She didn't have to remember to let her breath out. It happened entirely of its own accord.

Thunderlane lay inside the living room, his massive form sprawled half-on, half-off the couch, propped up into a sitting position with his enormous gut resting between his splayed hind legs. Sitting next to him was a pile of greasy oat burgers, from which Thunderlane was in the process of extracting one with a flabby foreleg and lifting it with some difficulty to his blubbery jowls. Even this simple act was enough to make a few drops of sweat break out on his forehead. Scattered all around his immobile body were empty wrappers, boxes, trays and cups, obscuring the floor like a second layer of carpet.

"Who pony who...?" Thunderlane mumbled through a mouthful of food. His eyes rolled in their sockets in Dash's direction, who was standing pale-faced and aghast in the doorway. "Rainbow?" he asked, squinting against the sunlight—it had been a while since he'd last left the house, or indeed been able to move from the couch at all. He raised his head slightly, his chins squishing together as he did so.

"Th-Thunderlane..." Dash stepped forward tentatively, picking her way around the detritus on the floor and approaching Thunderlane as cautiously as if he was a bomb. "What in Equestria have you done to yourself? Have you..." She picked up one of the empty boxes and read the label—'Double Oat Burger Deluxe'. "Have you been eating nothing but oat burgers since I left?"

"Not just me," Thunderlane groaned, shifting slightly and sending a wave rippling through his vast sea of adipose. "Flitter... and Cloudchaser... eat them too..." His head fell back and he sucked air greedily and labouredly into his lungs, the act of speaking more than one sentence at a time leaving him as breathless as if he'd run three marathons in a row.

Too shocked and frightened to say anything more, Dash left Thunderlane and flew out of the house. Flitter and Cloudchaser lived just down the street. If Thunderlane had eaten himself to what looked like immobility, then...

"No, no, no, no, no..." Dash muttered as she reached the twins' house. Catching a glimpse of lilac in an upstairs window, she flew up to it, praying for the best.

Her heart sank. She was looking into the twins' bedroom. Both ponies lay on mattresses within the broken remains of their bed frames, their fat rolling off and hanging over the sides, their huge bodies dotted with stains from what looked like ketchup and milkshakes. If the stains were anything to go by, neither of them had moved from bed for a few days, at least. Like at Thunderlane's, the floor around them was covered with litter and food remnants. Flitter looked to be asleep, her hefty stomach rising and falling with each breath. Cloudchaser was just moving a large oat burger—one of dozens more, crowded around her the way a child might crowd their stuffed toys—from her sauce-smeared lips, eyes closed, chewing lazily like a cow chewing on cud. Swallowing, she opened her mouth again and let loose a belch, blowing a few strands of unkempt mane out of the way, before sighing and sinking deeper into her bed sheets, presumably taking a breather before she resumed gorging herself.

Dash half-flew, half-fell to the ground, feeling like her stomach had turned to water. Questions swarmed around her mind:

What's happening here?

Why are Thunderlane, Flitter and Cloudchaser all clinically obese and stuffing themselves with junk?

Granted, there were only two questions, but they were still pretty big ones. At that moment, all Dash knew for certain was that she wanted to get as far away from there as possible. She zoomed off at top speed, a nauseous feeling spreading from her stomach and all through her body. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. As she flew over the town square, she looked down, and it was all she could do to stop herself from dropping out of the sky from shock right there and then.

A long line of ponies stretched out the door or Sugarcube Corner, but this wasn't what alarmed Dash. What alarmed her was how every single one of them was in some stage of obesity. For as far as she could see, it was a lengthy procession of huge bellies, double chins and tree-trunk thighs. Dash couldn't even see one pony who had a visible neck, just roll upon roll of fat. Shock soon gave way to anger. Whatever was going on, she wanted answers, and she wanted them now.

Dash rushed down to the ground and squeezed herself with some difficulty through the fleshy obstacles crowding the door of the shop. A few ponies voiced their irritation at the line cutter, but none of them had the energy to actually try and stop her.

Pinkie Pie stood at the counter, her size making her resemble a large blob of taffy on legs. Her stomach jiggled ponderously with every movement she made, and her movements were reduced to shuffling, waddling steps. Two new chins melted into her flabby chest, and he rump was about the size of two pillows side by side. Her added weight hadn't curbed her boundless enthusiasm, though, and she gave Dash a big smile upon seeing her.

"Oh hiya, Dashie! Long time no see, huh?" she said cheerfully, her chubby cheeks wobbling as she spoke.

"Pinkie, what-" Dash began, before a voice from behind her cut her off.

"Now, Rainbow Dash, darling, I know you must be very eager to see your friends again, but surely that's no excuse to barge to the front of the line like that?"

Suddenly, there was an ice cube where Dash's heart should have been. She knew that voice... that carefully refined accent. Slowly, she turned her head around.

"R-R-R-Rarity?" she stammered.

Rarity was just as big as the other ponies in line. Unlike most of them, however, her weight had distributed itself a little more evenly around her body, lacking the rolls and folds of many of the other ponies behind her. The result was a large, smooth frame of adipose around her body, making her look rather as if she had been carved out of a large slab of marble. She was still very clearly in the throes of obesity, however, and her fat face was currently wearing the look of patience that she normally reserved for when Dash acted uncouth around her. "Still, as Pinkie says, it's good to see you again. I trust the Academy went well?"

"What in the deepest pits of Tartarus is going on?" Dash screamed, startling her friends and a few other ponies in line, their bodies rippling as they jolted in surprise. "What happened to you? How did you all get so, so, so..." She couldn't finish, and instead slumped to the floor. This was all too much for her to take in within such a short time.

"Aww, don't be sad, Dashie," Pinkie said consolingly, waddling around the counter to comfort her panicked friend. "Here, maybe one of my super-duper cupcakes will- whoa!"

In her distracted state, Pinkie had failed to register a puddle of spilled soda on the floor which she had neglected to clean in between serving her many customers and tending to Mr. and Mrs. Cake upstairs, who had unfortunately become too fat and lazy to do anything other than eat their surplus stock all day. She lost her balance and unwittingly pulled off a comedic pratfall, sending the tainted cupcake in her hoof flying towards Dash, who had opened her mouth to scream in frustration.

The cupcake landed in Dash's mouth with a wet glop sound. She gagged and tried to spit it out, but some of it stuck to the roof of her mouth and slid down the back of her throat and into her stomach. With how potent the blubbercup essence was, a small few crumbs was all it took.

Dash's eyes widened to the size of saucers and she made a strange noise that was somewhere between a rooster's crow and a train whistle. She scrambled to her hooves, threw herself over the counter and started stuffing her face with every cupcake she could reach. All of her fears and panic from just a minute earlier dissipated immediately. All she could think about was food, and how she wanted—no, needed—more.

As Dash continued to glut herself, a muffled voice piped up from the other side of the counter.

"Can somepony help me up, please? I'm a bit... stuck."

A day or so after Rainbow Dash fell victim to the irresistible lure of Hotshot's food, Princess Twilight Sparkle alit from a carriage on the outskirts of Ponyville. She thanked the guards pulling it and watched them leave, before closing her eyes and letting loose an exhausted sigh.

Twilight had just returned from a diplomatic mission in Saddle Arabia, where she had to oversee some very difficult negotiations between Saddle Arabia and Ishayl. The Ishaylis had been kicking up a stink about the Saddle Arabians placing a trade embargo upon them, claiming that it was unprovoked. The Saddle Arabians had claimed that it was in response to Ishayli settlers moving into Saddle Arabian territory without permission. For a long time, the diplomats from both countries had simply refused to budge an inch, and Twilight had been brought in to use her role as Princess of Friendship to help them reconcile their differences. In the end, after three very stressful weeks, she had managed to hammer out a deal between them and avoid a possible conflict between the two nations in the near future. She had spent some time in the Crystal Empire with Princess Cadance and Shining Armour to take a well-deserved break, and was now simply happy to finally be back home. She'd opted to walk the last stretch back to her tree castle, to take in the lovely spring air around town.

For a while, Twilight simply ambled through the fields around Ponyville with a relaxed smile on her face, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the tweeting birds, the chattering squirrels, the fat fillies and colts stuffing themselves in the schoolyard, the gentle swoosh of the grass in the breeze, the...

Wait. Hold up. Twilight stopped in her tracks. Something about that last bit didn't seem quite right. She retraced her steps a little until she found herself at the fence that marked the boundary between the school and the fields beyond. From there, she could see into the playground, and what she saw was simply baffling.

The playground was full of young fillies and colts, as usual. However, there were two marked differences. The first one was that every foal there had put on a lot of weight; any who weren't officially obese would be there before long. Twilight couldn't see a single average-sized filly or colt there—nothing but ample, round bellies and oversized flanks. The second was that there was no sound of play, laughing or shouting. Instead, there was the sound of dozens of not-so-little little ponies eating copious amounts of what looked like pizza, pies, hay fries and soda. Many of them were eating in groups; the Cutie Mark Crusaders eating a twelve-inch pizza each, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon resting their sodas on their bellies while they gossiped with each other, Snips and Snails trying and failing to catch hay fries in their mouths. The few students who weren't eating lazed about on the soft grass, too full and tired to do anything.

Well, this is... unprecedented. Twilight took a moment to let the sight before her sink in, before deciding to talk to Cheerilee. Perhaps she'd have some insight into what was going on, and could help ward off a potential foalhood obesity epidemic in town.

A quick flap of her wings brought Twilight over the fence and into the schoolyard. From there, she walked to the schoolhouse, carefully stepping around the fillies and colts who were either napping or in the grips of a food coma. The others were too busy eating to take notice of her. It was an eerie experience, to say the least. There was no noise other than that of twenty young ponies fervently stuffing their faces, occasionally punctuated by a moan or a contented burp from one of the students lying replete on the grass.

As she got closer to the schoolhouse, she could hear talking coming from inside. She headed over to one of the windows and looked inside. What she saw only confused her further, as well as making her feel more ill at ease.

Cheerilee was in there, as expected. What was more surprising was that Applejack was in there with her. What was even more surprising than that was how they were both as plump as overfed cows. They were both currently talking to a teal stallion at the door. Half a dozen wooden crates were stacked up next to Cheerilee's desk, one of which was open to reveal—Twilight's jaw dropped—a large quantity of pies, just like the ones the foals out back were filling their oversized stomachs with. Empty pie tins, pizza boxes and soda cups were stacked up in neat piles along the walls, while the desks in the room had been noticeably widened in order to accommodate the students' expanding waistlines. A couple of the chairs looked like they had been crushed, presumably having been unable to handle the weight of the fattest students.

Twilight pressed herself against the window to try and better hear what they were saying. Unfortunately for her, the hinge on the window was rusted, and the window popped open and sent her falling straight into the classroom, landing painfully on her foreleg and surprising all three ponies inside.

"Twilight?" Cheerilee asked, a concerned look on her cherubic face as she waddled over to help Twilight up. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, howdy, Twi," Applejack said, looking just as perplexed. "What were ya thinkin' fallin' through the window like that, sugarcube?"

"Yes, I must admit I'd like to know that myself," the strange stallion said drily. "Your Highness," he added, giving a respectful little bow.

Grunting, Twilight stood and dusted herself off. "I just got back from my mission in Saddle Arabia. I came to see what happened to make the fillies and colts outside so fat! And for that matter, how did you get so... um..." Twilight faltered, not wanting to offend or upset her friends. "Zaftig?" she finished lamely.

"Oh, you noticed what the students were eating?" Cheerilee said, smiling. "Not to worry, Twilight, it's all under control."

"Buh?" Twilight said.

"Well, Mr. Hotshot here..." Cheerilee pointed at Hotshot, who waved. "...opened a restaurant in Ponyville not long ago. Everypony in town just can't get enough of his food, me and my students included!" She giggled, her belly shaking as she did so. "Well, Hotshot has very generously agreed to supply the school with food on demand, and he's even offered me a significant discount on it for being such a loyal customer!"

"Hotshot makes 'em, I deliver 'em," Applejack chimed in. "Ah get a nice cut of the profits in return, and the whole family gets a discount as well! Ain't that just enough to make a coyote stop thievin'?"

"But, but..." Twilight spluttered. "How can you not see what's wrong here? Haven't you seen the state of the foals outside? They're enormous! Some of them look like they can hardly stand! And haven't you seen how big you're getting, too?"

"Miss Twilight, I'm simply following the rule of supply and demand here," Hotshot said calmly. "My customers demand, I supply. If any of them lack self-control, I can hardly be held accountable for that."

"All the same," Twilight said, "something doesn't seem right here. I think we owe it to these children to cut them off until we can determine how to stop them gaining this much weight."

"What?" Applejack and Cheerilee gasped in unison.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Miss Twilight," Hotshot said, now sounding a little annoyed. "With all due respect, we can't just cut them off, not when the demand is this large. Do you have any idea how much revenue I'd lose? Or how much Applejack would lose, for that matter?"

"Please, there must be something you can do," Twilight pleaded.

Hotshot sighed. "Alright... Cheerilee, Applejack, may I have a word, please?"

Cheerilee and Applejack waddled over to Hotshot, looking nervous. Hotshot mumbled something to them, and Twilight was only able to catch the last few words: "...no more food for you."

Almost before he'd finished speaking, Cheerilee and Applejack both spun around with crazed looks in their eyes and threw themselves on top of Twilight, pinning her to the ground. Twilight panicked and tried to get them off, but their combined weight was crushing all the air out of her lungs and it was hard to think, let alone concentrate enough to perform a spell. Hotshot moved swiftly and pushed a slice of pizza into Twilight's mouth. Her pupils dilated and her mane prickled. Hotshot nodded and Cheerilee and Applejack both rolled off.

"Now, your Highness," Hotshot said sweetly, "what were you saying about my food?"

Twilight shakily got to her legs. "I... I'd like to get in on my own delivery service," she stammered, drool forming on her lips and legs shaking. "As many pizzas as you can handle, delivered to the castle. Money's no object."

Hotshot smirked. "That sounds very reasonable."

Chapter 7

Lyra ran through the streets of Ponyville, her stomach churning with fear and anticipation. She had to admit, she was rather enjoying the feeling of being able to run without being weighed down by so much excess weight for a change. Ponies briefly looked up from their meals to observe her as she rushed past them, unused to seeing anypony move at a speed above a brisk waddle anymore.

Lyra tried to quell her nerves by reassuring herself that everything would be okay. Bon Bon was a secret agent who'd been trained to tackle monsters from the literal pits of Tartarus—she'd be able to tangle with Hotshot no problem. On top of that, once Princess Twilight was aware of what Hotshot had done, there really would be nowhere for him to go. If royalty itself was after you, the only thing you could hope to do was delay the inevitable.

Even with all her reassurances, Lyra still felt very anxious as the distinctive crystal castle where Twilight resided came into view. She had no idea what to say to her, but she'd figure out something.

The door of the castle lay open, and Lyra rushed through it and started searching for the Princess. The entrance hall was empty, and so was the throne room. Panicking, Lyra ran up a long flight of stairs and deeper into the castle.

"Hello?" she called out. "Princess Twilight, are you here? Hello? I need help, please!"

"Spiiiiike, could you get that?" came a heavy voice from behind a door to her left. Lyra skidded to a halt and swiveled around.

"Uuuuuughhh, fiiiiiiine," moaned another, slightly deeper voice. This was followed by a short series of heavy, shuffling steps, before the door slowly creaked open to reveal Spike, who Lyra recognised as Twilight's assistant/aide-de-camp. His wide, fleshy hips nearly filled the entire doorway, his large scaly belly hanging out in front of him like a medicine ball. A pair of flabby moobs had formed around his chest, and his cheeks and neck had all puffed up, too. Spike panted from the exertion of dragging himself across the room and stared at Lyra with dull eyes.

"Whaddaya want?" he mumbled.

Lyra swallowed. "I need to speak to Princess Twilight right away. It's an emergency!"

"What kind of emergency? Is this anything to do with our pizza being late?" Spike asked.

"Um..." Lyra thought quickly. "...Yes," she lied. "I, ah, need to speak to Princess Twilight concerning the status of her pizza order. Very important."

"Alright, but you'd better have good news for her. Neither of us have eaten for nearly half an hour now," Spike muttered, stepping aside to let Lyra through.

Twilight lay on a queen-sized bed, her fat spilling over the sides like she was an outsized purple bedspread. Empty pizza boxes were piled haphazardly around her bed, and a combined stench of pepperoni, cheese and old sweat hung in the air. With some manoeuvering, the princess pulled herself into a sitting position so she could look at Lyra properly.

"Hel-" She cut herself off as a large burp erupted from her throat. "Oh, excuse me. Hello there. Did I overhear you say something about the pizza-"

Twilight was cut off again, this time by Lyra using her magic to fling a pear into her mouth. At the same moment, she pressed down hard on Spike's toes, shoving another pear into his maw as he yelled in pain.

With two near-simultaneous popping sounds, both Twilight and Spike's excess weight disappeared in a split second, leaving Twilight laying in a daze on her sweat-soaked bedsheets and Spike face down on the floor.

"Sorry," Lyra quickly said to Spike, before rushing to the Princess's bedside. "Your Highness, please! I need your help! We all need your help!"

"I'm listening," Twilight groaned, rubbing her aching temples.

Hurriedly, Lyra relayed the entire tale to Twilight—how Hotshot had gotten the whole town addicted, how he'd extorted her and Bon Bon, her work as his delivery mare, the incident with the pears, how Bon Bon had told her to come to Twilight for help. The whole time, Twilight listened to her with an expression of grim severity. When Lyra had finished, Twilight got to her hooves.

"What Hotshot has done," she said slowly, "is just about unforgivable. I can't fathom the selfishness, the disregard for equine life, it takes to enslave an entire town for one's own personal gain. You can rest assured, Lyra, that I will see to it that he faces the full extent of the law."

"You're going to stop him, then?" Lyra asked pleadingly.

Twilight bared her teeth and flared out her wings menacingly. "I'm going to head over there right now. Spike, I need you to... Spike?"

Spike was just sitting in one spot, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly agape, his knees tucked under his chin as he rocked back and forth slowly.

"Spike?" Twilight said worriedly. "Are you alright?"

Spike held up a claw. "I," he said in a slow monotone, "am going to take a shower. And then, I'm going to go cry myself to sleep."

"Um, okaaay," Twilight said slowly. "But listen, before you do that, I need you to send a letter to Princess Celestia. Tell her everything that Lyra just told me, and how we need a team of Royal Guards down here to bring Hotshot into custody."

Spike nodded. "Okay," he mumbled, "okay, I'll do it."

Twilight quickly composed the letter to him. Once he had it sent off, Twilight turned to Lyra.

"I think I'm long overdue to pay Hotshot a visit for myself."

With that, Twilight vanished in a flash of light.

"Wait!" Lyra called after her, only to realise too late that she was gone. She groaned.

"You could at least have told me where the exit was..." she grumbled.

As she ran towards Hotshot's, Bon Bon couldn't help but think of how similar this all was to the climax of a spy movie: the agent without a cause, bending the rules to settle a personal score. And this score was most definitely personal. Hotshot had stripped her not only of her business, but her dignity, along with the entire town.

As she approached Hotshot's Grill, she gave her utility belt one last look over. Grappling hook, flash grenades, taser—all her standard equipment. It wasn't much, but if she could get the jump on Hotshot, it would be all she needed.

Her plan was to execute a simple "smash and grab" technique. She'd go around to the back of the restaurant and move through the rear entrance to the kitchen, where Hotshot would most likely be cooking. She'd throw a flash grenade in to stun him, then quickly move in to tase him and subdue him. Quick and clean.

Bon Bon reached the rear of the restaurant. The coast looked clear. She got into position by the rear entrance and pulled a flash grenade from her belt. She took a breath to steady her nerves for the throw.

One... two... three.

Bon Bon pushed the door open just wide enough to throw the grenade in before slamming it shut again. About a second later, a loud BANG! was heard from inside, and a bright flash of light was visible through the gap between the door and the floor. Immediately, Bon Bon kicked the door wide open and rushed in, ready to make the grab.

The kitchen was empty.

Bon Bon was stunned. She had just enough time to register that there was nopony there before a pair of hooves grabbed her from behind and slammed her head into the wall, before brutally throwing her to the ground.

For a moment, all Bon Bon was aware of was the splitting pain in her skull. Her swimming vision gradually focused itself to reveal that she was staring up at none other than...

"You?" Hotshot gasped, looking utterly bewildered. "How in the hay did you..."

"Like I'd tell you," Bon Bon spat. "It's over, Hotshot. You're finished, and so is your restaurant business."

Hotshot's surprised expression twisted into a sneer. "Oh, please," he snorted. "I don't know how you managed to break the effects of my special ingredient, but I can easily turn you back." He reached behind his back to produce another cookie, practically shining with fat. "And once I do, you're going to tell me exactly what you did, so I can ensure this doesn't happen again."

"Never," Bon Bon grunted.

Hotshot smirked. "Oh, Bon Bon," he said condescendingly. "Right from the day I met you, you always played hard ball. Well, two can play at that game."

Without warning or preamble, Hotshot brutally slammed a hoof into Bon Bon's solar plexus. Bon Bon gasped in agony as all the air was expelled from her lungs. Immediately, Hotshot shoved the cookie into her mouth, using his hooves to force her jaws to chew it before sitting back with a satisfied smile on his face.

Bon Bon was crushed. It was over for her before it had even begun. All she could do now was pray that Lyra had cured Princess Twilight and that she could stop Hotshot before it was too late.

Then Bon Bon realised something. She wasn't hungry. Not at all. Surely the cookie should have reduced her to a ravenous mess by now? Slowly, she got to her hooves, a tremendous, triumphant smile spreading across her face as she realised what was happening.

The pears hadn't just cured her. They'd immunised her.

Hotshot stared at her with his jaw hanging open in disbelief, before shock gave way to barely-contained fury.

"What did you do?" he whispered.

Bon Bon smirked at him. Checkmate, you son of a mule.

"I said, what did you do?!" Hotshot screamed, finally losing his slippery cool for the first time. With a roar of pure rage, he lunged at Bon Bon with his hooves flailing.

Bon Bon easily dodged Hotshot's clumsy attack, before counterattacking by slamming her back hooves into Hotshot's side. Hotshot yelled in pain, but adrenaline is a great painkiller and he remained standing. He threw himself at Bon Bon again from behind, wrapping his forelegs around her neck in an attempt to pull her into a stranglehold. Bon Bon twisted and writhed desperately, repeatedly kicking at Hotshot with her back hooves in an attempt to get him to lose his grip, but Hotshot held firm as he continued to choke her out.

After a few seconds, Hotshot felt Bon Bon's body go limp. Grinning maniacally and laughing, he let her fall to the floor, where she lay still.

"You stupid filly," he spat, bending over her and addressing the back of her head. "Who the buck do you think you are, huh? Nopony can stop me now, you hear me? N-"

Bon Bon's head pushed upwards with explosive force, the rear of her skull smashing against Hotshot's nose. Hotshot howled in agony and staggered backwards into the cupboards behind him. Bon Bon leaped to her hooves once again, before unhooking her taser from her belt and turning towards Hotshot with blazing fury in her eyes. With a final shout of rage, she turned the taser to its highest voltage setting and jammed it against Hotshot's neck.

Hotshot made a gurgling sound as the electricity arced through his nervous system. His legs buckled, and he finally fell unconscious to the ground. Breathing heavily, Bon Bon made sure he was out cold before unclipping her shades from her belt and donning them.

"I always did like my food extra crispy," she said smugly.

Twilight Sparkle was standing outside Hotshot's Grill with both Lyra and Bon Bon. Accompanying them were half a dozen royal guards sent from Canterlot to take Hotshot into custody. Two were pulling a prisoner's carriage that two others were loading a manacled and furiously swearing Hotshot into, while the other two stood behind Twilight, carrying several foodstuffs from the restaurant in plastic bags with the word "EVIDENCE" printed on them.

"Well, you two," Twilight said, "I think it's fair to say that Ponyville is in your debt. Without you discovering a cure, Lyra, and you so bravely restraining Hotshot, Bon Bon, we would still be helplessly gorging ourselves right now."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Bon Bon and Lyra both said, unable to conceal their proud smiles.

"But what about everypony else in town?" Lyra asked, looking worried. "There aren't nearly enough pears around here to cure them all, and there are so many poor ponies still trapped in their homes."

Twilight smiled. "Don't worry, we've got that covered, too."

"Indeed we do," came a new voice from above them, as a magnificent white alicorn descended to join them.

"Princess Celestia!" Lyra and Bon Bon blurted, both of them scrambling into curtseys.

Celestia chuckled. "Let's not stand on formality, my little ponies," she said soothingly. "As Twilight said, I have a solution to this particular problem."

"What's that?" Lyra asked.

"When I saw how Twilight described the town's plight in her letter, I immediately recognised it as the effects of blubbercup poisoning," Celestia explained. "Ever since the griffons tried to use it to weaken the Royal Guard a century ago, I decided it would be prudent to research a countermeasure should it be needed in the future. I think this ought to do the trick."

With that, Princess Celestia gave a flap of her wings and rose high above them. Her horn glowed with an aura as bright as the sunrise, before emitting a bright golden wave of magic that radiated over the entire town and outskirts. Whoever the wave passed over was immediately shrunken back down to their normal sizes, from before their first fateful bites. One by one, ponies who until seconds ago had not been able to walk emerged from their homes on shaky legs for the first time in weeks.

"And as for Hotshot," Celestia said, as she descended once again, "you can rest assured that his deeds will not go unpunished. You two should be very proud," she added, smiling warmly at Lyra and Bon Bon. "On behalf of the Equestrian Crown, I thank you."

On that note, Celestia flew upwards and soared off towards Canterlot.

"Bon Bon..." Lyra stammered. "We just got praised by Celestia herself! Oh my gosh, that is so frigging amazing!" she squealed delightedly.

"What?" Twilight said, filling her voice with mock outrage. "Doesn't my praise count for anything?"

All three ponies laughed heartily, simply relieved to have their ordeal behind them. It had been a very degrading time for them all, but with Hotshot arrested and the townsponies cured, they could finally start to pick up the pieces.

San Palomino Detention Facility, three months later.

Hotshot—prisoner 200595, as he was also known now—lay on his cot, staring up at the slate grey roof of his prison cell. Almost everything in the cell was the same shade of grey, his bright orange jumpsuit and white blanket and pillow providing the only hint of colour.

With all the evidence against him that had been found in the restaurant, along with statements from just about every damn pony in Ponyville, it had taken the jury less than an hour to find him guilty of multiple counts of possession of a controlled substance with intent to sell, multiple counts of public endangerment, and to top it off, multiple counts of deceptive advertising. He'd been sentenced to life, and wouldn't be up for parole for at least thirty years. At least the fact that he'd brought an entire town to its knees had given him enough credibility that the other prisoners didn't give him too much hassle, but nothing could soothe the sting of the humiliation he felt at having his master plan brought crashing down around him.

One thing about prison was that it gave him way too much time to think. He'd spent the first few weeks of his sentence pondering how he could have failed like this with such a foolproof plan. Eventually, he'd concluded that a business was not the impenetrable fortress he thought it could be. Rather, a business was more like a house of cards—you could build it as large as you wanted, but one slip would always be enough to send it all crashing down. Hotshot hadn't even considered the possibility of somepony finding a cure for the blubbercup essence, and that crucial error had cost him his business and his freedom.

His confidence had been what made his business grow, and his confidence ultimately led to his downfall. He sighed. Somehow, that felt appropriate.

THE END

Author's Note

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, then I highly recommend you check out the story Of Rangoons and Rapport, by the very talented WordyNotes. It's set during the events of STBB, and provides even more fatpone pleasure for your perusal. Thanks again!

Chapter 6

Hotshot owned Ponyville.

Under most other circumstances, that point of view may have seemed ridiculous and melodramatic, but in Hotshot's case, there was no exaggeration—the town was now his. There wasn't a single resident left in town who hadn't tasted his food, and their uncontrollable desire for it had left them at his mercy. Hotshot was like a malevolent king, forcing his subjects to pay tribute to him on pain of cutting them off from their precious food if they refused.

After so many weeks of Hotshot monopolising Ponyville's food supply and feeding the townsponies food laden with hundreds of calories' worth of fat, salt and sugar apiece, the town had become a strange kind of living ghost town. The streets were filled with obese ponies of all ages, spending their days waddling to and from either Hotshot's Grill or Sugarcube Corner in their endless quests to slake their insatiable appetites. No matter how much they ate, they still craved more food just a couple of minutes or so later. All around town was the ceaseless sight and sound of ponies eating, and eating, and eating. They ate in their homes, they ate in the streets, they ate in the school, they ate in the parks. They lived for nothing other than to stuff their faces and grow fatter and fatter.

Of all the ponies in town, only about two-thirds were ever seen outside any more. The rest had met the same fate as Thunderlane, Flitter and Cloudchaser—confined to their homes, having become too heavy for their exercise-starved muscles to support them and unable to summon the energy to move under their own power any longer. They relied on Hotshot's delivery ponies to keep them supplied with food, and occasionally on their still-mobile friends and family to tend to them in between their gorging. If one were to look through their windows, they would see these blubbery behemoths laying helpless on flattened remnants of beds and sofas or piles of cushions, able to do nothing but eat and sleep. Their enormous, sauce-stained bodies wobbled as they ate, the only movement they knew any more being the perpetual chewing motions of their jaws and the wiggling of their useless legs.

And overseeing all of this, every day, was Hotshot. He spent his days directing his deliveries, personally serving those ponies who managed to heave their bulks to his restaurant, and making sure that they remained nice and submissive. At this point, he had them all under his hoof, and was more than happy to continue milking them dry while they continued to secure Ponyville's position as the heaviest town in Equestria.

With nopony in town in any state to leave or to run the trains, all the residents too far gone to think of standing up to Hotshot or calling for help, and Princess Twilight herself feasting on deep-fried pizza in her castle, Ponyville had become isolated. The only hope for Hotshot to be stopped would be if the planets aligned correctly and fate itself lent a hoof. Otherwise, the town was doomed to simply eat itself into the ground.

Early one morning, Hotshot was tending to the fryers in his kitchen, currently host to several hotdogs swimming in butter and lard. He liked to ensure that the calorie counts in his food were cranked as high as possible—the fatter and lazier he could keep the townsfolk, the better. The exceptions to this were his delivery ponies, who he always fed and paid with special food designed to keep them subservient, but still physically able. A delivery pony who was too weak to get out of bed was not much of a delivery pony, after all.

As if on cue, he thought, as he caught sight of one of his delivery ponies coming through the door—a mint-green unicorn mare named Lyra. Her physique was typical of the dozen or so delivery ponies who Hotshot kept comparatively lean and hungry; a good fifty or sixty pounds overweight with a bulbous, bouncing belly and plot, but still capable of moving around freely while only occasionally needing to stop to catch her breath. Compared to most of the other ponies in town, she was downright skinny, but she was as much under Hotshot's spell as anypony else, willing to do anything for a taste of his food.

Hotshot looked at Lyra with a raised eyebrow. "What time do you call this, Lyra?" he asked, nodding towards the clock, which said that Lyra should have been there ten minutes ago.

"I know, Hotshot, I'm so sorry," Lyra panted. "I overslept and *huff* then I had to check Bon Bon for bedsores before I left. It won't happen again, I swear."

"I hope not, Lyra," Hotshot said, giving her an icy look. "It would be a shame if I had to cut you and Bon Bon off, wouldn't it?"

"No!" Lyra gasped, looking as wide-eyed and panicked as if she'd received news of her own death warrant. "Please, don't! I'll do anything... just please keep giving us food!" she shouted, on the verge of tears.

Hotshot let Lyra sweat for a moment, looking her up and down, before he spoke.

"Since it's a first offence," he said slowly, "I suppose I can let you off this time."

Lyra's tubby body visibly sagged with relief. "Oh, thank you," she gushed. "Thank y-"

"But," Hotshot sternly interrupted, "this had better not happen again, Lyra, or there will be consequences. Consider yourself officially warned. Understood?"

Lyra gulped and nodded.

"Good. Now," Hotshot continued, "since you're here, I have three deliveries for you to make. Cart's waiting out back. Destinations are the spa, the hospital, and the school. Get it done as quick as you can, then return here for your payment. I need hardly add that you are not to touch anything on that cart. Got it?"

Lyra nodded again.

"Right. Off with you," Hotshot ordered. Lyra immediately turned around and waddled outside to the cart, using her magic to hook the harness onto herself. Already sweating a little from the morning heat, she started her slow but steady pace on her delivery route.

Her first port of call was the Ponyville Spa, about two blocks away from Hotshot's. Panting, the cart rattling behind her, Lyra lumbered up to the front door and knocked. It was answered almost immediately by the spa's newest employee, Bulk Biceps. He'd put on as much weight as anypony else, but his muscular body underneath all his flab had given him the build of a sumo wrestler, possessing enough incredible muscle power to not be as severely hindered as he may have been. Like Pinkie Pie, he hadn't let his extra weight affect his zeal at all.

"FINALLY!" he bellowed, blowing Lyra's mane back with the force of his voice. "I was starting to think the food would NEVER get here!"

"Bulk?" Lyra said, surprised. "I didn't expect to see you still working here."

"I'm helping out Lotus and Aloe!" Bulk boomed.

"Is that so?!" Lyra boomed back. "A favour for friends, eh?!"

"Exactly!" Bulk took the sack with Lotus and Aloe's names on it from Lyra.

"You can bring the food straight in, Bulk, my friend," came a breathless voice from inside. "And remember, once you're done feeding us, it's time for our sponge baths."

"Yes, ma'am, Miss Aloe, ma'am!" Bulk called back enthusiastically. "Appreciate the help!" he roared at Lyra, before turning around and heading back inside. Before heading away, Lyra caught a glimpse of Lotus and Aloe laying in the main spa area, their hulking, heaving bodies resting on cushions piled around the floor, their multiple chins and near-spherical faces covered in chocolate and sprinkles. Bulk produced several boxes of doughnuts from the sack and began to feed them to his impatient, ravenous wards.

Next stop was the hospital, where the reception area was filled with roly-poly doctors and nurses, some still dressed in strained and torn hospital uniforms, either asleep or following Lyra with hungry eyes. Lyra dropped the hospital's sack off next to a tired-looking unicorn sitting on one of the padded benches, his doctor's scrubs opened to allow his huge gut room to breathe. He thanked Lyra, before getting up with some difficulty and using his magic to deposit the cakes and pies in the sack next to the eager mouths of the other doctors and nurses.

"If you have the wrong food, you'll just have to make do," he said as the noise of messy eating echoed around the large room. "I don't have the energy to deal with mix-ups anymore."

Lyra's final port of call was the schoolhouse, which looked fit to burst. Cheerilee had taken up more or less permanent residence inside, her knees having buckled under her as she attempted to leave a week ago. She'd been laying in that one spot by the chalkboard ever since, her enormous girth taking up the space where her desk once was. Filling up the remaining floor space were the fillies and colts who still retained enough mobility to make it to school, motivated by the bountiful supply of free food there. They lay either inside among the shattered remains of their desks or in the playground, too hungry to learn and too tired to play.

"Ah, thank you, Lyra," Cheerilee wheezed. "Alright, my little ponies, help yourselves," she called to the class as Lyra left, who grunted and groaned as they heaved themselves to their hooves and lumbered over to get their fix.

Now that her deliveries were over and done with, Lyra was to head back to Hotshot's with the cart and collect her payment of ten pounds of cookies and ten pounds of hotdogs. She would then make her way home to Bon Bon and the two of them would pretty much just eat for the rest of the afternoon.

Lyra salivated at the thought of her precious hotdogs as she came to a bend in the road that ran along the edge of a steep incline. You'd have to watch your step if you didn't want to fall. Lyra, lost in thought about her food, neglected to watch her step, and as she came to the middle of the bend, she stepped in a small pothole. She lost her footing, teetered dangerously close to the edge, then went over the side with a yelp, the strained straps on her back breaking free as she did so.

Lyra's extra weight gave her enough momentum to roll down the slope at a frightening speed. She shrieked in terror as the world blurred around her, the cart careening wildly after her before flipping over and coming to a rest next to a rock. Lyra kept rolling. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the end...

Lyra smacked right into a pear tree at the bottom of the hill. Fortunately for her, her blubber absorbed most of the impact. Her weight, combined with the speed she'd been going at, was enough to knock most of the pears loose from the tree. One of them fell into Lyra's mouth as she gasped for air. Instinctively, she bit down on it.

Lyra had just enough time to register that she was still alive and to notice the taste of pear in her mouth when a searing, burning pain overcame her. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as it felt like fire was coursing through her muscles. She writhed in agony, begging for the pain to stop. What was happening to her? What was...

Abruptly, the pain ended, and with a noise like a champagne cork being fired from a bottle, Lyra's excess body weight disappeared. In the blink of an eye, her body was returned to the slim, fit state it had been in before her first bite of Hotshot's forbidden fruit.

For a moment, Lyra just sat there in a daze, feeling like she'd just woken up from a deep sleep. Then, memories came rushing back to her. Her first taste of Hotshot's hotdogs. The days spent gorging herself to near-unconsciousness. Bon Bon, unable to leave the house. Everypony constantly eating, getting...

A wave of nausea hit Lyra, and she suppressed the urge to vomit. Instead, she tried to think about what had just happened. Something had snapped her out of her trance and slimmed her down, but what? She looked around, before her eyes settled on...

The pears.

Lyra remembered the pain she'd felt after she'd bit into that pear that fell into her mouth. There had to be some kind of correlation, right? That was the sort of thing Bon Bon might have said.

Bon Bon...

Oh Celestia, Bon Bon!

Lyra scrambled to her hooves. If what she theorised was true, then pears were the cure for whatever vile substance Hotshot had put into his food. And right now, Bon Bon was on the other side of town, eating her own weight in cookies. Lyra had to help her. Maybe they could find a way to finally stop Hotshot for good.

Lyra picked up as many pears as she could find—she had a feeling she'd be needing them—and put them into one of the empty sacks that had blown down the hill from the wrecked cart. She turned and took off towards home.

Within fifteen minutes, Lyra had made it to the house she shared with Bon Bon, next to the bakery that she ran so long ago. Gasping, she burst through the front door and charged upstairs to the bedroom. On the bed, Bon Bon lay on her side, swaddled in nearly six hundred pounds worth of blubber, breathing heavily but steadily.

"Lyra?" she asked, her chubby cheeks twisting in confusion as she looked her over. "You look... different."

Lyra wasted no time and shoved a pear into Bon Bon's mouth before she could react, then stepped back.

Please, please, please... she prayed silently, as she watched Bon Bon's features contort in pain just like hers had. With the same loud popping noise, Bon Bon's flab vanished into thin air and she fell to the floor with a thud.

"Oooooh, my heeeeaaad..." she moaned. "What did I do last-"

She was interrupted as Lyra leaped onto her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Bon Bon! You're alright, you're... oh Celestia, I..." she sobbed, unable to hold back her emotions as she shed joyful tears into Bon Bon's fur. As Bon Bon's memories began to come back to her, a look of horror and revulsion spread over her face, before she returned Lyra's hug just as tightly.

When they finally pulled apart from each other, Bon Bon looked up with murderous fire in her eyes.

"Hotshot," she growled.

Lyra nodded. "Listen, Bon Bon. I think I've found a way to stop him! When I ate a pear earlier on, it turned me back to normal, and now it's done the same to you. Whatever's in Hotshot's food must be counteracted by pears! We can use them to cure everypony!"

Bon Bon's eyes widened. "Pears? Really?"

"I know, sounds ridiculous," Lyra said, nodding. "But I'm telling you, it worked!"

"Sweet sisters," Bon Bon murmured, before speaking aloud. "Alright. You need to go to Princess Twilight right away and tell her what's happened. I'm going to find Hotshot..." She spat his name with venom. "...and make sure he pays for what he's done to us—to all of us."

"What? Bon Bon, you can't take him on! Don't be crazy!" Lyra pleaded.

"Maybe Bon Bon can't," Bon Bon countered, before giving Lyra a sly smile. "But Secret Agent Sweetie Drops can."

Lyra's jaw dropped, before she shook her head. "Well then, I'm going with you."

"No," Bon Bon said firmly. "You need to tell the Princess about the cure with the pears, and besides, it's too dangerous." Her voice softened. "I care too much about you to let you get hurt, Lyra."

Lyra looked dismayed for a minute, before pulling Bon Bon into another hug.

"Just be careful, okay?" she whispered.

"I will," Bon Bon whispered back, returning her embrace. "We'll get him, Lyra. I promise."

Lyra nodded, before picking up the sack with the priceless pears in it and turning to run out the door. Left alone, Bon Bon turned to her wardrobe and opened it, pressing on the back panel to reveal a secret compartment embedded in the wall filled with her spy gadgets, her utility belt, and her shades.

It was time to gear up.