Court Jester

Act 2 Part 6: Double Barrel.

A lot of days don't start with me in my bed, in a new room, in a new place. I noticed that the only layer of clothing I was wearing was my usual bandages. This did not cover much. I resolved to get some clothes. Unfortunately, I think they figured out where my journal was. Either they did and didn't care to move it from the small compartment I created in my bed's frame.

After becoming clothed, I found a small black box in my bedside drawer. I attempted to open it, but found that it was locked. I wasn't too sure what it was for, considering my knife was on the drawer's top. Either a gun case, or maybe it was where they'd put my pay, if I'm being paid. Or it could be for something else. Either way, I tucked it into my dufflebag. That done, I put on an airy linen shirt and my vest over it. I tied a white bandana over my head to protect my bandages from the heat. Sweat on a head injury didn't sound fun. Of course, they probably wouldn't put me to work the first day.

I placed my bag on the bed, then I walked over to a pile of boxes. The big metal ones probably had my furniture, and the small cardboard boxes held my clothes, my typewriter, and my other stuff from my workshop. I spent about an hour arranging the room, which had a nice lime green wall-paper with red and green apples as borders. Once I had finished, the room looked more like a living space than just a place where I lay my head down to sleep. I incorporated my desk with my workshop, but kept what I was planning to use to forge some medical documents if I ever happen to get turned into a horse. I knew it was not likely, considering that I had a fraction of the magical resistance of dragons, which was enough to dispel weak bolts of magic and other such weak active magics.

I had just finished up cleaning my room and readying it when I heard a call. It sounded like a female, about forty years old. I'm guessing she's either the matriarch of the house, or just a tenant. I opened my room's door, then left the room, locking it with the key that had been provided for me.

As I descended the stairs, I could hear the sound of ponies talking. Sounded like seven. As I came down into the living room, I noticed the kitchen quickly. I entered the kitchen, then began walking to the empty seat on the table. Everyone, except a certain purple pony, was quiet.

"You're awake! I was expecting you to be out for another three days!" She said.

"I don't go down easy. What's for breakfast?" I asked, taking a seat.

"Apple pancakes 'an cornbread." A new voice replied, quite like an old man. I noticed that the only occupants of the table I knew were Applejack and Twilight. The others seemed to be relatives of the aforementioned apple pony. "Where are my manners? I'm Asrael. I already know Twilight and Applejack, but I haven't quite met the rest of you yet." I politely said.

The old pony replied. "Ah'm Fine Press. Mah daughter here is Golden Fritter, mah son o'er there is Maroon Tint, that's cousin Buckley, and that's his wife, missus Corn. We're all glad ta have yeh here, but what can yeh do?" I contemplated his question.

"Well, I need a little while to rest. In the mean-time, I'm sure I could help with some menial chores around here, like feeding any animals, fixing anything that needs some TLC, and of course repairing farming equipment, if you've got a forge." He seemed to contemplate this for a moment.

"Alraight, yer hired. Yeh start work tomarrow, we need sum equipment repaired, and sum of tha southern orchard's fences need a fix-me-up." He said. I reached my hand across the table and shook his hoof. Then, I dug into the rather delicious food. As soon as I finished eating, I asked to be excused. I was excused, then I left the table. Twilight and Applejack soon followed after.

They gave me a rundown of the rules, gave me a tour, then handed me a scroll. They left soon after. I had lunch, then talked with a few people around the farm. Finally, I went to check out the scroll.

I went back to my room to take a look at it. I tossed the scroll on the table, then cut it open. The seal of the Sun broken, I unrolled it. In plain english it read, "Cut your hand over the scroll." I did so, then watched as the text disappeared and became a jumble of numbers. At the bottom, a small piece of paper was attached. I sliced it out, then opened it. It turned out to be a cipher. Underneath the cipher was another string of numbers. I went through and translated the numbers into something readable.

Once translated, the text read, "Under order of law, by the Equestrian government, you are now required by law to act in defense of the crown, covertly, secretly, and you will now be a weapon for which the crown has been trained to use. Your first assignment is at the dead drop at Red Frog Gulch. You will be assigned a badge of office and a weapon. Burn this message and the cipher in a secret location.

Your employer, the Equestrian Crown."

I stared at the message, almost expecting it to be a joke. It wasn't. I almost cried. They had used me! There was always a fucking catch! I couldn't ever just live in peace, in a nice little shack in the middle of nowhere, minding my own business! Besides that, I had a fucking serious head injury! Do they even care? I almost tore it to pieces right then and there, but I stopped myself. I grabbed my bag, put the items in it, then cracked open a window. The cool late-evening weather blew into my window. I closed it, then put my bag back down. I searched around for a map, making sure not to be seen by the owners of the house. After ten minutes, I found one in a box of old brochures and maps.

Taking the map and my bag, I left through the window into the night, at about nine thirty. I made my way across the orchard, hearing the howl of coyotes in the night. I knew, of course, as long as they didn't outnumber me one to six, I shouldn't worry too much.

The relatively short trek led me to a small gulch that had many small red frogs hopping around a little pond. A suspicious tree stump pried up to reveal a safe, which I had the combination. I just didn't leave it in there just in case someone were to steal my journal. I removed the items from the safe, which consisted of a bag of bits, a badge, an over-the-shoulder gun holster, assorted documents, ammunition for a .40 caliber Smith and Wesson. Also, a small key. I tested it on the box, which popped open to reveal a kinda small .40 caliber Smith and Wesson pistol. I loaded up the gun, tucked it into its holster, and then found something wonderful.

At the bottom of the safe was a black duster, which was quite airy. It had several pockets on the inside, and I could easily conceal my gun by wearing this. I put the holster on, then the article of clothing. It warmed me to a comfortable temperature, but still allowed me to feel a nice breeze. I closed up the safe, stuffing the contents into a bag, except for the badge. I looked it over.

It was much like an FBI agent's flip badge, except it had the aesthetic of a Texas Ranger badge. I suppose it fit, for the time period and place. I noticed that the badge had the word 'Regulator' carved into it. Interesting. Perhaps that is their version of the traveling lawmen of the west. In any case, I tucked the badge into one of the top pockets of the duster. It would come in handy if I needed to ever prove my position to a sheriff or other such lawmen.

I slipped back to the house, climbed up the side, and crawled back into the window. I closed it up, then locked it tight. I examined my room, which had only the desk lamp on. I tossed off my duster, then swept it under the bed. I cut one of the floorboards under my desk in such a way that I could hide my gun. Those things done, I plopped on the bed. I fell asleep instantly.

The next morning, I was awoken at six AM sharp by the breakfast bell. I got dressed, but left my duster off. I tucked my badge into my pants and put my gun in another pocket, making sure the safety was on. I left my room, making sure to lock it. I went downstairs and took my place at the dinner table, noticing the absence of the other four visitors.

"Cousin Buckley 'an his wife left last night, while we were sleepin'. Said sumthin 'bout gettin' ahead o' sumone. How're yeh doin' today?"

"Pretty good. How about you?"

"Well, we gotta get in tha harvest this week, else we'll be behind on our deadline. Ain't many weeks 'till December." He commented, sighing.

"Pappy, when're we goin' ta have sum money ta spend?" Asked the daughter of Fine Press.

"Soon, darlin'. Ah've got plans with tha shippin' companies ta get our apples 'cross the pond. Maybe Ah'll hire on sum farmhands ta help with tha first harvest."

"I could bring in some bounties, if there are any." I added in my two cents.

"Sonny, ah won't take yer money like that. If yeh can bring sum of them crim'nals, the more the merrier, but ah won't take no money from yeh. Yeh've earned it." I still wanted to decrease crime. I could help a lot, especially with my expertise in combat. I decided that I would read through those documents, then go up to the sheriff's office after I was done working on the farm.

I finished up work quick as I could, then read through the documents. Most seemed to be on local criminals who had joined a specific gang called the 'Beefhead Bulls.' Red bandanas and brown ten gallon hats were their signature look. Their leader was commonly referred to as The Bull. If I wanted to help, one of the things that would help a lot is if I brought in some criminals, so I began thinking on the information they had here. Guessing by this information, their hideout was in a collapsed train tunnel, one that had been collapsed all too recently. The supposed bomber had a blue jacket on, according to the witness statements included. I marked that down for later.

Anyway, I decided I would deal with that pony later. I headed out to town. It was mid-afternoon, so there wasn't too much traffic quite yet, as it was four. I headed to the saloon, maybe to get directions, but found that the sheriff's office was right next to the saloon. Smart. I entered the room, seeing three barred cages. In each were two or three ponies. They looked ragged, and old. Most likely the sheriff was but a relic.

I turned to see, exactly as I expected, a pony wearing a brown vest with a silver star on it. He had a tall ten gallon hat, and had a mustache. He quirked an eyebrow at me, smoking a cigarette.

I went into my pants, pulling out my badge and flipping it open. His jaw dropped. "A regulator! There hasn't been no regulator round here since I was but a colt!" He hopped up, then began shaking my hand. He lead me over to the bounty board.

"Here we've got our bounties. Most of them are for alive, but we've got a few... bad weeds that need cuttin'. I'm sure ye can understand." I nodded, then I removed one of the high-risk ones from the board. Outlaw's name was Redeye. Got his name from his one red eye, and was one of the fastest shots according to this poster. He hung around the saloon, but no one dared approach him. I tucked the bounty up, then slipped it into my pocket. He was wanted dead or alive. I intended to deliver the former, but maybe if I could catch him off guard.

I walked right over to the saloon. Most continued what they were doing, but some began staring. I walked over to the back, where the supposed outlaw was. He regarded me with an odd look. "You got a lotta nerve, comin' back 'ere and sittin' down." I had sat down. What he didn't know was that I already had my gun out under the table.

"I'm a regulator, you either come peacefully or I blow your gut open with the gun I got under the table." He burst out laughing, but that was quickly stopped when I shot him in the gut, doing exactly as I said. Most watched in disgust as he fell over, dead. I put the gun back in my pocket, then began dragging the body along, leaving the bar. They watched me leave in amazement, both at the fact that I had just casually killed a pony, and at the fact that he was a dangerous outlaw.

The sheriff looked half-surprised to see me come back alive, but was more surprised to see what I had dragged in. I looked at the sheriff, as if expecting something. "Oh, right!" He went under his desk, then came up with a box. He pulled out about two thousand bits, then hoofed them into a bag, which went over to me. I put that sack into my dufflebag, then nodded to the sheriff. I went over to the board, and only saw a few low-payers in the town. I doubted I could deal with any other high-payers, as that one was mainly just luck and element of surprise. I decided to take a few more criminals in. Two, to be exact. These two lived outside of town, but were armed and dangerous. They robbed and plundered those who were foolish enough to take asylum in their home. They were a couple, and were on a special bounty board.

This bounty board was specifically made for regulators, and was kept up to date by radio contact. Anyway, these two were nice to those who merely wanted to speak with them, but they often would kill any beggar who asked for asylum. I decided to kill them quietly with my KA-BAR, and so I went back to the house and grabbed my duster. I put my holster on and my coat as well, putting my regulator badge in its usual pocket.

I made my way a few yards outside of town, and found myself at a little homely place. It had some vegetables growing outside, likely for them to sell or eat. I knocked on the door, then flashed my badge as soon as they opened. Instantly, a bullet hit my vest, but was stopped. The hunk of metal fell to the ground, and I dodged to the left.

I leapt over the fence, then hopped behind a crate. A bullet whizzed over the top, so I popped up to return fire. I hit the unicorn in the chest, sending him to the ground. The next one came out, shotgun ready. I ducked, watching as the pellets flew over my head, where it had just been milliseconds ago. I popped back out of cover as the unicorn reloaded, shooting her in the hoof. She broke her concentration to leap away into cover, hoof still wounded. She floated her shotgun over quickly, reloaded it, then began blindfiring. I ducked, waiting for her to stop blind-firing. I heard her pop out of cover to begin running, but I leapt up and shot her in the hind hoof, sending her tumbling into a wall.

She crashed into it, unconscious. Unfortunately for her, her lover was long gone. I felt pity for her, but I would not end her life. I patched her wounds using supplies I found in the house, bound up the outlaw, then took her back to the sheriff's office. Along with the other one's corpse.

The sheriff paid me handsomely, around five hundred bits each. This left me with about 3,250 bits. Lovely.

I retired to home, where I did not receive any comments about the sudden appearance of the duster. I think they already knew anyway. I plopped into my desk and wrote this entry, and now I'm preparing to go to sleep.