I mean, let's be honest, the profit margins are probably better.
Dumb dealers worked in public. Dealers of average intelligence worked in private.
Clever dealers worked in public - but not too public.
Flim Skim, by that token, was a clever pony indeed.
Government buildings? Too heavily scrutinized. Government-subsidized buildings? Same as above. Corporate buildings? Too heavy on security in cities - in other words, the only places that mattered.
Academic buildings?
Crystal Empire University - the good ol’ CEU - was nothing but a slew of perks for this sort of thing. Large customer base? Check. Privacy? Student Council campaigned heavily for that sort of thing, so - check. Non-student presence on campus? Everything from faculty to janitors to entrepreneurs - check. Lax law enforcement when not summoned by students? Check. Desire to be subversive? Check. Lack of competition? Check. Discretion? Check.
Overwhelming trust? Check, check, check, check, check.
It was Thursday - that meant the old botany building, the OBB, room 221. Calling it the OBB was preferable to calling it by its official name, the His Exalted King Sombra’s Botanical Sciences Research Center, because “The Good ol’ Heks-Beserc” didn’t roll off the tongue quite as well. And, funnily enough, King Sombra wasn’t nearly as popular since Princess Cadence and Shining Armor had started running The Crystal Empire.
It was a different age, now. Gone were tyranny and corruption, gone were brutality and dreams unfulfilled, gone were hopeless labor and a joyless life. With Princess Cadence and Shining Armor came hope, joy, openness.
Trust. The aforementioned trust.
Flim Skim was a clever pony indeed.
1:37 PM. All the college students were in class: this meant that he had to look like he was holding space for a student organization. Ergo, he was sitting at the teacher’s desk, bent over, idly working on a crossword (unfortunately easy, as Thursday crosswords were; the newspaper crosswords were never really challenging until Saturday.)
Flim Skim had an appointment with a customer at 1:45. This meant that, all things considered, his customer would arrive at 1:38. Ponies who considered themselves punctual made an (un?)fortunate habit of showing up early to formal occasions, apologizing when necessary. Predictable “unpredictability” was as positive an asset as an entrepreneur could find in his potential clients. Reliable and faithful, of course, was essentially good business. Full of self-doubt about one’s capabilities, well…
That was also essentially good business.
There was a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“This is room 221, right?”
“OBB, room 221. Come on in.”
It was a miracle, Flim thought, how little he needed to use his carnival barker routine anymore. Oh, sure, the jazz and the big sale were nice, back when he and Flam used to run wilder routines. Fun, in a big-band, overly ostentatious sort of way. But there was no guarantee that they would make the sale and run the scam; all of the barking with none of the bite got to earnest businessponies like themselves after a while.
But there was something nice about these days, too.
He spoke softly, and they came to him.
And all he would need were the quiet words, and they would never stop coming.
The door swung inward. Sunburst walked in, adjusting his spectacles and looking slightly more twitchy than he had the week before. “Hey, Flim.”
Flim Skim gave him the smile. Not the carnival barker smile, but the soft-spoken smile. “Hey, Sunburst. You look kind of stressed out.”
“Big weekend coming up. Princess Twilight Sparkle’s coming to visit and she’s bringing her friends, including Spike, which means there’s going to be a royal celebration, and that probably means having to deal with the changeling situation. Again. But, I mean, that would be understandable, expected, but.” Sunburst adjusted his spectacles and sniffed. “We think Princess Flurry Heart’s going through some sort of colicky-type thing.”
Flim shook his head. “That’s a shame. Aren’t there any spells for that sort of thing?”
“Colic? Yes. Colic derivatives? We’d have to identify them. Neurological medical magic isn’t my specialty. Any more so than other schools of magic, I mean. Granted, there are royal doctors who are attempting to analyze this sort of thing, but I mean…” Sunburst adjusted his glasses. “I’m the caretaker, effectively. My talent is theoretically knowing how to handle these sorts of situations. The idea that I’d be at a complete loss for what to do, well...it isn’t done. Shouldn’t be done. Won’t be done.”
“I understand.” Flim folded his hooves on top of the table. “They’ll expect you to look completely composed, too. Unless they’re visiting in order to solve a friendship problem?”
“They would’ve only sent two of them. That’s the way it’s done these days. I think.” Gulping, Sunburst approached the desk. “Actually, ah - how did you learn about the “friendship problem” nomenclature?”
“They helped us, too. Applejack and the pink-maned one.”
“You don’t say?” Sunburst grinned. “That’s really nice of them.”
“Absolutely. We were at our wit’s end, of course. Couldn’t have reconciled our differences if it wasn’t for them. They’re miracle workers, aren’t they?”
“They are. They absolutely-”
Sunburst blinked.
“I-I-I mean, they are, but I can’t expect them to fix everything.”
“Hmm?” Flim raised a concerned eyebrow and straightened up. “Is something wrong?”
“No! No! Everything’s fine. Everything’s going to be fine.” Sunburst adjusted his spectacles. “I was thinking...never mind.”
“No, no. Tell me. What’s on your mind?” Flim leaned across the desk. This was it: this was the tricky moment, the bit that required brainwork. Even a dealer of average intelligence might accidentally encourage Sunburst to seek help, and - given his connections - that would mean all kinds of trouble. The difference between an unsuccessful business venture and incarceration was, after all, quite large.
Fortunately, Flim Skim was a clever pony. Quite the clever pony indeed, if he did say so himself.
“I thought maybe I could…” Sunburst trailed off. “I was thinking about asking them for help, but I didn’t...I have no idea how they could help. How any of them could help. This is rather unprecedented, after all, and...and I’m the pony most likely to know how to solve this problem. Theoretically. According to everypony but me, I mean.” Sunburst sniffed. “I-if that’s not too much to say, I mean. That wasn’t supposed to sound like bragging.”
“It didn’t. Don’t worry. You’re letting this get to your head, you know? You’ve just got to relax.” One of Flim’s hooves slid off the table and tugged open a desk drawer. “If you can channel your energy into productivity instead of anxiety, you’ll be fine.”
“Productivity, not anxiety. Right. Productivity, not anxiety. Productivity, not anxiety. I...I can do that.” Sunburst sighed. “I mean...are you sure this won’t make me too jittery?”
“Only if you let it get to you. Everypony knows you’re one of the smartest ponies in the Crystal Empire. You don’t need to tell yourself otherwise. You provide the focus -”
“-And you provide the energy. Right. I’ve got that.” Sunburst sighed. “I don’t suppose, um...I don’t suppose you’ve got anything extra?”
Inside, Flim Skim was a mass of self-satisfied gloating and unadulterated ego. The tricky bit was over. He had won - again. And with the stakes even higher this time. If only Flam could see this...Flim exulted, teetering on the edge of breaking cover.
On the outside, of course, Flim wore a nondescript smile.
“Actually, I do. I try to keep a little extra around in case of emergencies like these. And this certainly sounds like a bit of a pickle, doesn’t it?” Casually, Flim brought double the normal dose of merchandise up and set it on the table. “Will this be enough?”
Sunburst sighed in relief. “That should be exactly the right amount, yeah. How much?”
Flim told him.
Sunburst’s jaw dropped.
“I don’t...I mean...isn’t this amount double my normal…?”
“Exactly double, yes. And…?”
“Well, that price...it’s more than double.”
“230% normal price for 200% the normal amount. There’s a bit of a mark-up for having to dip into the emergency stock. You understand, of course?”
“I mean, I do, but…” Sunburst shook his head. “I thought that it’d be less, if anything. Haven’t I been a good customer to you?”
“You’ve been excellent, don’t worry. I’m thankful to have your patronage. This is just a matter of business policy, honestly - I try to keep myself to a strict set of guidelines.”
“But that isn’t fair!”
“It’s business. I’ve arranged for things to try to be as fair as possible, given market supply and demand. I’m not going to lurk in back alleys, flipping open a trench coat like some kind of flasher to give you “the goods.” I’m running an enterprise, and my hooves are tied.”
Sunburst frowned. “But you aren’t part of a business! You’re selling your stuff individually!”
“And? Entrepreneurs hold themselves to standards. To do otherwise would be utterly out of the question. And I,” Flim concluded, splaying his hooves wide, “am an entrepreneur.”
“You sell drugs. And you and your brother used to cheat ponies. That isn’t entrepreneurship!” Sunburst snorted.
It was all fluff, at this point; ire that would get him nowhere, sound and fury that signified nothing. Flim knew this, and he was fairly certain that Sunburst knew it, too. Part of the routine. Part of the sale.
“I’m exchanging goods for capital. Like buying cider, or tickets to the theater.” Flim’s voice softened. “Look, if you’re nervous, that’s okay. I understand. You can always come back later if you’re interested.”
“Nervous? I mean, It’s not...I don’t…” Sunburst trailed off.
Full of self-doubt, Flim mused. Essential to good business. Flim scooted forward in his chair, as if about to rise. “I wouldn’t want you to feel like you’ve forced yourself into doing this. Maybe you just need a good night’s rest-”
“Wait! It’s not that! I mean, maybe I...I guess I’m just being nervous, or something. I don’t know.”
“It happens. Just remind yourself that this is a good thing, okay? Everypony’s satisfied. I’ll be able to work towards getting back up on my hooves, and you’ll be able to handle a weekend that would drive anypony else crazy. I’d say something about flying colors, but I’m not sure whether there are going to be fireworks involved.”
“No. Yes. Maybe. I think I need to ask...I think I need to ask somepony when I get back. The...the somepony. Of something.” Sunburst adjusted his glasses, flipped back one side of his cape and reached for his saddlebag. Silently, he upended his coin purse onto the table, counted out his payment and pushed it unsteadily towards Flim Skim. “There. This...this is a good thing, right?”
Flim skim set the merchandise down in front of Sunburst’s nose. “This is a good thing.”
Sunburst swept the rest of his bits into his purse, grabbed the bags of merchandise with his teeth and shoved everything into his saddlebag. With a slight swish of his cape, Sunburst turned and was halfway out of the room when he froze.
Flim emptied Sunburst’s payment into his purse, saying nothing.
“...Flim?”
“Yes?”
Sunburst turned back to face Flim. Something hard glinted in his eyes; a shard of defiance, a sliver of integrity. “You’re a...you’re a good pony.”
“Well, thank you.” Flim’s voice was softer than a baby’s cheek. “You’re a good pony, too.”
Sunburst’s face crumpled. The defiance in his eyes shattered, the integrity dissolved into dust; only guilt and resignation remained. Without another word, Sunburst turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Flim Skim picked up the pencil on his desk and finished the crossword. His appointment with his next customer was at 2:00 PM. This meant, all things considered, that his customer would show up at 2:06 PM. Predictably unpredictable. Most likely, that would be an even easier sale. Less challenging, less fun - but then again, he’d had more than his fair share of fun for the day.
Flim turned the newspaper’s page, glanced at the sudoku and sighed. Why can’t it be Saturday, already?
This is just too easy.
Author's Note
Based off of a good friend of mine, back in college.
I'll leave it open to interpretation as to which side of the transaction said friend might have been on.
