It was mid-day when two oddly dressed stallions pushed their way inside, one holding a hoof tenderly to the side of his muzzle while the other strode ahead of him with high, quick steps.
The more lively of the two marched up to the counter and laid his torso across the countertop, propping himself cooly up on one elbow.
The mare behind the counter looked at him, her eyes tired and sunken in.
“Excuse me, miss,” he started quickly. “My brother here seems to be having a teensy bit of trouble with one of his teeth.”
“What’s the name?”
The other stallion joined him at the counter and was immediately drawn underneath a searching foreleg.
“Flam.”
“Flam?”
He flashed two rows of perfectly white teeth at her. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Can I see some identification, please?”
The stallion nodded his head toward the other stallion who fished his ID from the saddlebag at his side and handed it to her.
She took the card from him, lifted her glasses off of her face with her horn and squinted hard at it for a few seconds before handing it back to him and placing her glasses back on her nose.
She took a few moments to enter some information into the computer before turning back to them.
“And do you have insurance?”
“Absolutely,” The stallion said. Digging into his saddlebag again, he resurfaced brandishing a small, plastic card with the words Hoof and Horn Insurance printed in bold, blue letters across the top. Underneath was the name Flim Skim.
The mare took the card from him and scrutinized it with her beady, squinting eyes before handing it back to him.
She took another moment to enter the information into the computer. “You can have a seat. They’ll be out shortly.”
“Okay.” Flim smiled brightly, taking Flam’s head in a foreleg and steering him toward a pair of seats in the right-most corner of the waiting room, just out of view of the receptionist.
“Don’t you worry, brother o’ mine. We’ll get that tooth out of you and before you know it, you’ll be back to your old self and we’ll be back to doing what we do best.”
Flam tried to share in his brother’s enthusiasm. His problem tooth objected harshly and he was rendered silent. Flim gave him a sympathetic pat on the back.
It was twenty minutes before the dentist’s assistant called them. They followed her down a hallway to another hallway lined with rooms, ushering them into room 5.
“The dentist will be with you shortly,” she said curtly before shutting the door.
Flam made a bee-line for the nearest chair.
Flim took a minute to scour the room. “With all the waiting they expect you to do, you would think they would at least have something to read.”
Flim had gone through the entirety of all the drawers and was half-heartedly skimming through a book on dentistry techniques when the door opened and a turquoise stallion wearing a white coat stepped into the room.
“Good afternoon, gentlecolts. What seems to be the problem?”
Flim crossed the room before the stallion even had time to take a breath. “We were wondering if you could help us. You see, my brother and I run a roofing business and my brother here — clumsy as he is — tripped over a loose shingle and fell off of this house we were working on and well…”
Flim gestured toward his brother with a hoof. Flam smiled as much as his tooth would allow.
“Alright Mr…”
“Flam,” Flim finished for him.
“Right. Let’s have a look, shall we?”
Wordlessly, Flam shuffled himself into the seat in the middle of the room. Flim took up residence on a chair off to the side.
The dentist poked around in Flam’s mouth for a few minutes before pulling back.
“Well, you were right to come and see me when you did. It looks like one of your teeth is crooked and it's causing damage to the gum lining.”
Flim was at his brother’s side in seconds, his face drawn up slightly. “Is it bad?”
“I’ve definitely seen worse, but it would definitely be prudent to get it removed as soon as possible.”
Flim sucked a breath through his teeth. “You mean...with surgery.”
“That’s right.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. Your insurance should cover most of the cost.”
The stallion removed his gloves and started toward the door. “I’m gonna go grab some paperwork really quick and then we can see about getting this tooth out of ya.”
The stallion disappeared behind the door.
Flam looked to Flim.
Flim offered his most reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. It’ll just be a few minutes now.”
The doctor returned some five minutes later, carrying a stack of papers in his magic.
“Alright, Flam. I just need you to autograph these for me and we’ll be all set.”
Flim rolled his eyes at the dentist. Flam lifted the very top sheet off the stack and read it over before scribbling his signature on the line at the very bottom.
Flam had gotten through roughly half the stack when the door creaked open and a small mare with her mane tied at the end poked her head through.
“Can you look at this for me?”
The dentist trotted over to the door and looked down at a clipboard the mare held out to him. He nodded his head a few times and shared a quiet back and forth with the nurse before she pulled her head away and shut the door.
“Mr. Flam,” the dentist started, poring the clipboard. “It says here that your insurance is invalid.”
“What?” Flim squawked. “What do you mean?”
“Right here,” the dentist showed Flim the clipboard. “Your coverage was suspended on the twelfth. Three days ago.”
Flim leaned over and inspected the clipboard. “Is that so?”
“Seems that way.” The dentist shifted on his hooves. “I mean, we can go ahead and do the surgery without insurance but I can tell you right now, it’s gonna be expensive.”
“You know what? Could you give my brother and I a few minutes to discuss this? It is a big decision and everything.”
“No, no, I completely understand. Take as much time as you need.” Flim watched the dentist until he was out of the room. Once the door was shut, he spun toward Flam, his trademark smile tinged with worry.
“Looks like the jig is up, brother.”
Flim pranced quickly to the window on the opposite side of the room, heaved it open and stuck his head out. Taking quick stock of the distance, he pulled his head back in.
“I believe this calls for a bit of improvisation.” Flim lit his horn and a duffle bag popped into existence beside his head. “Let’s see here…”
A bit of rummaging around yielded a grappling hook with a fair length of rope attached at the end. Flim walked over to the window, fit the grappling hook to the sill and let the rope out the window.
Flam met his brother at the window and Flim bowed at him, gesturing toward the open window.
“After you.”
Flam shook his head and pointed at the open window.
Flim smirked at him. “Oh, you’re too kind.”
After a bit of struggling, Flim was able to clamber halfway out the window, his rear legs dangling over the ledge.
“It’s just like that time in Canterlot.” Flim took a breath and swung himself off of the sill, yelping as the rope caught his fall and he zipped down the building. There was a pause. Flam stuck his head out and saw Flim standing in the alley brushing himself off.
“Hurry up, brother!” Flim called to him. Flam worked himself out of the window much like Flim had and steadied the rope in his hoof. His mustache twitched as he inhaled and after a brief pause he pushed himself off the sill and slid a terrifying ten feet to the concrete below, landing on his rump.
“It’s a bit of a rough landing.” Flim smirked.
Flam got up and rubbed his sore behind. Flim fished a small piece of paper out of one of the pockets of his vest and unfolded it. It was a map, littered with inky black X’s. Flim picked a marker out of the pocket on the opposite pocket and marked off another building before capping the marker and stowing it and the map away safely again.
Satisfied, he turned to his brother who was nursing the afflicted side of his muzzle.
“Don’t go soft on me now, brother. We’ve still got plenty on clinics to try and limited daylight to do it.”
Flim marched knees high to the end of the alley and when he saw his brother lagging behind he circled back into the alley and threw a hoof around his shoulder.
“Cheer up, brother.” There was a green spark as Flim ignited his horn. A small leather wallet popped into existence beside his head. Flim smirked as he fanned it open and its insides spilled all the way down to the concrete below like the innards of a gutted animal. “We still have so many ponies ripe for the picking.”
Flim perused the tapestry of tiny, plastic cards hanging in the strewn out guts of his wallet and selected one at random before rolling the other slots back into the wallet and poofing it out of existence again.
“Got this one off some poor sap in Ponyville.” Flim squinted his eyes more closely at the card. “Carrot Cake.” He read, his muzzle scrunched in contemplation. “It certainly speaks to my gentle side, but what does it say about my quick wit and sensibilities?”
Flim looked to Flam.
Flam shook his head.
“You’re right,” another flicker of Flim’s horn enveloped the card and after a quick flourish it returned to his hoof, now brandishing both his and his brother’s names and information. “I think Flim suits me better anyway.”
Flim stowed the newly minted falsity in the breast pocket of his vest and turned to the mouth of the alley again.
“Let’s go, brother. Our next stop is across town and we’ve only got two hours to get there.”
Behind him, Flam moaned pathetically.
Flim tutted at him from over his shoulder. “It’s your own fault, you know. I tried to warn you about drinking too much.”
Flam grumbled a response to his brother.
“Well of course I wasn’t going to jump in and help. Did you see the size of him? If I’d have tried to help we would both have a crooked tooth or two.”
Flam offered a garbled response.
“You know what they say. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”
Flam was about to levy him a scathing retort, but decided against it at the last minute and clamped his aching jaw shut before it even opened.
Flim leaned over toward his brother as they walked so that his muzzle was right up next to his brother’s ear. “How about after this next one we take a trip down to the bar again?”
Flam’s face lit up.
Flim chuckled at him “I’m glad you’re so enthused, cuz I’ve got a pretty good feeling about this next one.” The two continued down the street shoulder to shoulder, discussing the intimate details of their next caper in hushed whispers.
