The King of Coin

“God, I love Arizona.”

I stared at the cinder block wall that surrounded the sides and back of the house I was going to hit. Since south AZ is notorious for it’s heavy windstorms, the walls have to be sturdy so they don’t blow over. This also meant that they could support the weight of a young adult.

I stepped back, took a breath, and sprinted towards the wall at an angle. I jumped, pressed my feet against the wall, and pushed away. My hands barely managed to grab onto the edge of this house's balcony. With a grunt, and some sweat, I managed to pull myself up.

Step one is done. Step two, get through. Through the door, that is. I peered through the window, and looked to see what the room inside was. Master bedroom, by the look of it. The covers on the bed were pulled back, and no lights were on. Couple that with the empty driveway, and I had myself an empty house, ready to be relieved of various goods.

I could and probably should have gone through the front door, but it had become increasingly boring to do so. Besides, front doors had security pretty often, which was a problem for me. So there I was, entering through a second floor balcony.

I slung my backpack off my shoulder and rummaged through it for something. I pulled out couple small plastic cases, and popped them open. They both contained a few specifically bent bobby pins, which served as my tools.

I inserted them both in, and began feeling the pins. One would be stiff, I would push it up. I repeated this process until I heard a click, and the lock turned. I put my tools away, and pulled the door open. I didn’t notice the two small devices on either side of the door that watched me enter.

I glanced around the room, taking note of everything. Places to hide objects, and places to hide myself. I looked through various drawers, the closet, and whatever I could open. Nothing but clothes, and a firearm. I left it there. When I got to the room’s door, I was surprised to find it locked.

Geez, that’s paranoid. Locking the outside and inside doors? I shook my head, and opened the door anyways. Four more doors, three had privacy locks. I pulled another bobby pin from my bag, and stuck it into the small hole. I felt something give, and the door unlocked.

Bathroom, nothing worthwhile. The next door was a coat closet, but there was a pretty sick looking duster in there. I grabbed it, and put it on. It was a neutral brown, exactly like the kind you would see in a western film. I put my backpack back on over it, and moved onto the next door.

It looked like a guest room, judging by the gift basket and the travel pictures. I grabbed a few candies from the basket, and ducked out. The next room... whoa.

I opened the door to behold the greatest shrine to my own interests ever. There were Dungeons and Dragons figurines, rule books, and posters all along the walls. In addition to the D&D things, there were also figurines of Discord, Vinyl Scratch, and Twilight Sparkle on a shelf. Best villain, background pony, and princess? Yes please. I placed the figures in my bag, and left the room.

I shook my head and chuckled. It was almost too easy to hit houses now. I should try for something bigger next.

I regretted thinking that immediately.

Light flooded into the house, along with the sound of police sirens as a voice blared from a megaphone. “This is the police! Come outside with your hands behind your head, we have this building surrounded.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. I quickly ran upstairs, back to the master bedroom. I slammed the door open, and jumped. I landed on the brick wall, and began running on top of it, away from the cops, and towards the other houses. I heard shouting behind me as they saw me running, and decided to pick up my pace.

That’s when I remembered the meaning of ‘surrounded.’ A cop that had been hiding on the other side of the house pulled something out, aimed it at me, and fired. Electricity coursed through me as the taser’s darts stuck, and I fell off the wall, right at the police’s feet. I convulsed as my nerves fired off rapidly, then I blacked out.

Waking up in a police car, confessing guilty to almost two dozen robberies, just counting the ones that caught me on camera. Stepping into my jail cell in a bright orange jumpsuit.

I took a sigh, and nodded. That could have gone better. I didn’t have a cellmate, but I figured that would be remedied soon enough. Shit. The months ahead of me were full of jail time, and community service. I was there for the next two days, then I finally got a cellmate.

He was a thin man, but still muscular. His messy hair was a chocolaty brown, with a streak of blue on the side, and back. He sat down on the other bed, and looked at me.

He waved a hand, and shrugged. “So. This the part where we ask what each other is in for, right? I’ll go first. What’s your name, and what did you do?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, this is that time. My name is Kingsley Gardner, call me King. I robbed a whole bunch of houses and stores, but didn’t realize that I was on camera for a good portion of them. I tripped a silent alarm, and police came calling. I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for those meddling cops!” I shook my fist, and the man laughed.

He nodded. “Good one. My name is Weathered Field, I got tossed in here for pulling some strings that are better left untouched. Got caught in a web of lies, and the police came to catch me. Figured I wasn’t a match for a bunch of guys with guns, so I came peacefully.”

Dang, this dude was in a conspiracy or something? Now larceny feels lame. I looked at Weathered, and frowned. His eyes were weird. The irises were a dark blue, with little shards of silver in them, like stars. I pointed. “What’s up with your eyes? I’ve never seen any like those.”

He blinked. “No, I’d think not. Got them the same way I got this blue in my hair: time and patience.” What was that supposed to mean?

We spent the next week together, joking and bonding. Prison wasn’t as bad as tv and media made it out to be. Nobody beat me bloody, took my food, or what not. I just followed the rules, ate food, did service, and it that was it.

Eventually, however, I heard Weathered singing a certain tune. I chuckled. “Is that Winter Wrap up you’re whistling?”

He looked over at me, and grinned. “You know it. You watch the show as well?” I nodded. “That makes sense. If you were to go to Equestria, what would you be? Any race, pony or otherwise.”

I thought, and thanked my lucky stars that this guy was another brony. “I would be a diamond dog. It’d be nice to have hands, and I never did like flying. And I would love hunting for gems, too.”

He considered it, and smiled. “Well, in that case, how would you like to break out of here.”

I blinked, then looked at him with wide eyes. “What?” Was this guy serious?

“Oh yeah, I’m serious. Come here a moment, I wanna show you something.” In strange curiosity, and complied, and looked at a piece of floor he was pointing out. It was completely ordinary.

“Is this a joke? What are you pointing at?”

He pressed his finger to the floor, and began running his finger across it. To my wonder, an outline of a hatch became visible. He pulled it open, and smiled at me. “What? How was that there this whole time? Where does it lead?”

“You’ve gotta know how to look for it. This probably leads to the sewers, or something. A path out of here.”

I squinted. It was really suspicious. “Why would there be an exit out of the prison, in a cell?”

He shrugged. “Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll go first. I know a thing or two about getting out of the spotlight, and that means false identities.” He dropped through the hatch, into the darkness.

I had to admit, I was curious. I peered my head through, and tried to see something. It smelled awful, but not in the same way as a sewer. It was a strange awful. “Weathered? Where are you?”

I heard him call back. “Down here. It’s a perfectly safe drop, just trust me. Come here, and you will never have to worry about these police again.”

I sighed, and stayed put. And then I heard a guard. “Hey, you, what are you doing!?” I head the jingle of keys as he tried to open the door. Uh oh. In a flight or fight panic, I pushed myself into the hole, and fell into the darkness. And fell. And fell.

Around the five second mark, I realized that this was not a normal thing. I turned myself around in the air, and saw nothing above me. No light from the prison. Uh.

This was weird. I was still falling through total silence, and darkness. Did I fall into the bottomless pit from Gravity Falls? I folded my arms and tried to wrap my head around the situation.

On one hand, I didn’t have to worry about cops any more. On the other hand, I was probably going to die by slamming into a floor at high speed.

It began to get cold quickly. I shivered as I felt my fingers and body numb as the temperature dropped to what were probably below zero levels. I called out. “Hello? Weathered? Anybody?”

My voice was oddly muffled, like I was speaking into a pillow. I ‘hrmmed,’ and scratched my head. I panicked when I realized that I felt nothing from that. I felt my muscles move, and stop moving, but nothing more. So I was either going to die of hypothermia, or die of fall damage.

Lovely.

...

...

...

“Okay, I figure I should probably do this whole deal.” I cleared my throat, and inhaled.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!” I screamed at the top of my lungs into the darkness, letting all my panic and fear out in one shout.

Nothing happened, still. I sighed, and screamed some more. “OH DEAR GOD! OH DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN, I’M GOING TO DIE IN A BOTTOMLESS PIT, AND THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT!”

Still nothing. I sighed, and just felt myself fall in silence. I figure I was there for at least half an hour, but I might be wrong. Eventually, however, I felt my senses return as I collided with something bouncy with an ‘oomph.’

It was still dark, but I could feel something, and I wasn’t falling. I used my hands to pat underneath me, and fell an all-too-familiar prison cot. A dream, then. I sniffed and sensed all sorts of unsavory smells in the air. From sweat, to mold, to cat... hair?

I sniffed again, confused as a flurry of aromas invaded my schnoz. I was never bad at smelling things, but I was never this good. I sniffed some more, letting the senses flood me. I moved my body to stand off the cot, and fell over. My legs felt so... small.

I wiggled them, and felt that everything about them felt off. My toes felt taped together, and bent upwards in a strange way. I went to feel them with my hands, and gasped. My hands were as big as my legs were small. My middle finger and ring fingers felt taped together as well, and my pinkies felt like balloons. I flexed them.

What was going on? I used my big fingers to feel my small feet, and frowned even more. It felt like I only had three toes on each foot, but... I felt around some more, and realized that my legs were shaped like my old dog’s legs. I ran a hand over my arm, and gasped again.

I was ripped. There was no give as I gripped my arms, which felt much hairier than usual. Then I felt my forearms and... “Holy shit, what on earth?”

They were massive! From what I could feel, they were like those dudes from One Punch Man with the robotic suits that made them muscly. Friggin’ bloated. I poked it experimentally, and winced. Something sharp poked me instead of my nail.

Instead of my nail...

I carefully pressed a finger to my palm, and felt a sharp point. So... I had claws? I felt my fingers, and was mildly shocked to find that they were not taped together, but just different. I had three fingers, and a thumb on each hand, and they were all really big.

Well then. Either I was having one trippy dream, or that Weathered guy turned me into a diamond dog. I patted my face, and felt a muzzle. Short, square, and really hairy. Huh. I booped my own snoot. That felt weird, no wonder dogs flinch when you do it.

I wiggled my ears, and felt something happen on top of my face, instead of my sides. I reached up, and felt the expected sharp dog ears. In between, however, I had a puff of hair that at least felt like the same shape my old hair had. I felt a spot in front of my eyes, and felt a little curl of hair. Yep, it’s mine.

With more pats along my body, I determined that I was, in fact, a diamond dog.

I clicked my flat tongue, and nodded. This was too real to be a dream. Hmm. Dogs should be able to see in the dark, right? I shifted something in my eyes, and the room burst into greyscale. Darkvision logic: the darker the room, the less color.

I looked around, taking note of the jail cell. The roof had wooden beams running along it, and the floor and walls were cobblestone. I looked out the bars, and realized that this prison, wherever it was, reminded me of the Riften Jail from Skyrim, but cleaner. Lovely. I get turned into a diamond dog, and somebody sends me to Skyrim? I looked at my cell mate, but didn’t recognize the figure under the covers. They had curled up, and pulled their cover over their entire body, and head.

I laid back on my cot, and waited for a long time, God knows how long. I just know that I missed the sun coming up, and woke up to a brighter, and more colorful room. I quickly sat up, and looked out the bars. There were khajiit everywhere. Cat people in armor, cat people in cells. I frowned. A bird person was in a cell. Not in Skyrim, then.

Something clicked. Equestria, if the movie is anything to go by, has bird people and cat people! I grinned and pushed away from the bars. I was in Equestria! In a jail cell. Shoot.