Chapter 1: In which Rick Harrison doesn't know WHAT is gonna come through that door
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I'm Rick Harrison, and These Are My Little Ponies
Chapter 1: In which Rick Harrison doesn't know WHAT is gonna come through that door
It was a hot, dusty day in Las Vegas, and the sweltering heat left an oppressive, unfaltering spell on anyone who dared venture outside, so most people didn't bother. The strip had a lack of intelligent life anywhere, but the unusual part was that there was virtually no people. Indeed, it was too hot outside for even the most fiendish individuals, with the usual crowds of the strip all holed inside the many hotels.
As for the world famous Gold and Silver Pawn Shop, things were even more desolate. The line that would usually be in front of the shop was non-existent, and there was nary a soul in sight. While Las Vegas inhabitants were used to this kind of crushing heat, tourists seemed to want nothing to do with it. The reports of record-breaking temperatures that were creeping up to 120 Fahrenheit seemed to scare them away even more than Chumlee's newest drug scandal.
Rick Harrison sighed as he looked at the Pawn Shop's camera. As usual, the filming set he was sitting in was almost empty, but the actual Pawn Shop that was usually packed with tourists was almost desolate. Rick Harrison reminded himself that at his pawn shop, family comes first and money comes second (depending on who you ask), but he still couldn't help but feel concerned about his business. After all, money was his third or fourth favorite thing in the world, and having less of it was not something that sat well with him.
Rick Harrison's thoughts were interrupted by Chumlee. "I'm bored, man. Are you sure that we have no appointments today with sellers? This is like, the third day in a row without any, and talking with tourists out in the shop is only bearable for so long."
"For the fourth time Chumlee, no," replied Rick Harrison, sounding slightly irate.
"Now why don't you go make yourself useful and write some more cheesy one-liners," Rick's Old Man chimed in.
"Ugh, fine. But I just don't get why things have been so dead lately, you know?"
"Take a wild guess," Rick's Old Man responded nonchalantly.
Chumlee stopped for a moment, clearly in deep thought. "Is it because they're jealous of my rockin' body?"
"Oh Chumlee, you're so endearingly idiotic," Rick Harrison said, bursting into maniacal laughter shortly thereafter.
His signature laugh was cut short, however, when the backstage door opened to reveal a man dressed in a business suit and a truly dapper tophat. Behind him, he was wheeling a giant cart with a metal box.
"Excuse me," the man started, "but the entrance to your store was closed, so I decided the compromise the security of said portal so that I could come in. Please do not be alarmed, however; I can assure you that the products I have will be of utmost interest to your business."
Rick Harrison glared back, clearly unamused. "Yeah, the thing is, you have to schedule an appointment to meet with us, and there's waivers you have to sign... I mean, you realize where you are and who we are, right?"
"Yeah, I do," The man continued. "Your given name is Richard Harrison and the facility I have entered is a retail establishment that specializes in unredeemed goods, which is the legal property of yours. You currently employ your paternal parental unit, alias, "Elderly Male," and the offspring of oneself, whose given name is Corey Harrison, yet has assumed the identity, "Large Hoss." Each individual item currently possessed by your fine retail establishment beholds a lengthy narrative and of course, this being a legal retail establishment, can be acquired for reasonable compensation. You have been the legal facilitator of this established haberdashery since the year MCMXCV, and in those XXI years, you have been gradually informed that; thou shall, at no time in the past, future, or present, be aware of by means of observation or inquiry, any details whatsoever of the material goods that will proceed past the aperture of your structure where goods are acquired and distributed simultaneously."
Rick Harrison hesitated. "Well, I mean-"
"You see, good sirs, the cargo I have brought here would be a fantastic fit in your establishment, I can assure you. If you would just let me present to you these incredibly rare and valuable products, I can promise you that you will not be disappointed."
After a moment of silence, Rick Harrison finally responded. "Okay, fine. But if you try any funny business, you'll never be coming through that door again." He reached for some paperwork and brought it to the man. "Now I just need you to sign here, here and here, so that we can use the footage on our show. If we do, then you get a small kickback."
"Are you kidding me?" Protested Rick's Old Man.
"Look, we don't have any other choice. If you wanna be able to see what's gonna come through that door ever again, we gotta keep things afloat," Rick Harrison responded.
Meanwhile, the man whipped out a pen and signed. "Glorious. Now, that's enough dillydallying, I shall now present to you the merchandise that I have proceeded into this establishment to sell."
"Great, Rick Harrison started. "We just need you to go over to the door and act like you're just coming in so we can make it seem realistic. Just act... Normal."
"So, what do we got here?"
The man pressed an obscure button on the crate, and the front of it opened to reveal six pastel ponies that looked like something out of a cartoon. "I have six living extraterrestrial beings - magical ponies, to be precise."
Rick Harrison gave a look of mild surprise and placed his hand on his desk, peering over slightly. "Huh, that's pretty neat. Do they talk?"
"Uh... Yes, sir," replied one of the ponies, a lavender unicorn with wings.
"Well, would you look at that," said Rick Harrison with a chuckle. "Where'd you get these?"
"Well, they appeared in a brilliant flash of light this morning at my place of residence. Quite frankly, I don't know what to do with them, but I do believe they may have entered our dimension from a... television show, somehow? They do look quite like the characters of a television show my daughter often peruses... My Undersized Horse, I think it is?"
Rick Harrison gave the man a calm smile. "Now that's something you don't see every day." He proceeded to once again break into a whispery yet loud laugh. "But yeah... I think what you have here is really interesting, but my main concern is whether these are legit. Tell you what, let me call up my buddy who's an expert in interdimensional species teleporting to earth and see what he thinks. If you could come back down tomorrow, he can check it out and maybe we can negotiate something."
"Sure thing. It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Richard Harrison." As Rick Harrison proceeded to shake the man's hand, he could've sworn that he caught a glimpse of desperation in one of the ponies' eyes. He quickly shook away the thought, however; after all, this could be the deal of a lifetime. Besides, these were extraterrestrial beings he was dealing with, and in his pawn shop, family and money come first and second, respectively. Depending on who you ask. Either way, he was pretty sure extraterrestrial beings weren't in either of those two categories.
