There couldn’t have been a more perfect day to fly into Las Pegasus. Salespitch continually reminded himself of this throughout the flight, mostly to distract himself from the less than perfect parts of the day. Like the weird looks he’d been getting from his fellow passengers in the hot air balloon all the way from Canterlot. One of them, a pink earth pony with a peculiarly upturned nose, seemed especially offended by his appearance.
He was used to that, really. Having a rare genetic condition that had gifted Sales with both the horn of a unicorn and the wings of a pegasus meant that the Alicornus Imitato got stares pretty much everywhere he went. But usually in close quarters like this, somepony would at least ask about it so that he could clear up any misconceptions that he was trying to impersonate royalty. Instead, he’d been left to a corner of the passenger basket by himself while the others huddled together on the other side, probably muttering about the cheap tricks some ponies would try in order to get noticed in the entertainment capital of Equestria.
The other less-than-perfect part of the day was that he was going to Las Pegasus at all. Salespitch muffled another annoyed sigh and tried to just enjoy the view as they floated towards a mountaintop wreathed in an artificial cloudbank – the home of said entertainment capital. But doom hung over him like his own little cloud. Every time he visited Las Pegasus, for business or pleasure, something embarrassing, annoying, or generally unpleasant always happened. Like the incident with the ferris wheel malfunction. Or that time when the magicians had used him as a volunteer from the audience, with catastrophic results. Not to mention the act with leopard and the clown car. Where had the clowns even gotten all of that pudding?!
Regardless, Sales’s trips to Las Pegasus had proven themselves to be guaranteed uncomfortable experiences for the brown-coated salespony. Maybe if I just keep my head down and got the job done quickly, I can get in and out before there’s trouble, he thought hopefully. The colorful sights of Las Pegasus beckoned to him as they rose in the air to meet it, all glittering lights and screams of delight, but he wasn’t going to be fooled this time. He’d heard that song and dance more than once, and walked away with sore hooves.
But as the balloon descended towards the golden landing pad, Sales saw something that really did perk him up: two very familiar faces down below, wearing orange safety vests and yellow hardhats. One was stocky and golden-tan with brown hair and an upright horseshoe cutie mark; the other, a purplish gray stallion with wavy lavender mane and a purple guitar on his flank. Both wielded the orange flight guidance batons of landing assistance ponies in their green and blue magic.
And both of them had a pair of wings and a horn, just like him.
“HEY!” Sales hollered, leaning out and waving a hoof excitedly as his balloon descended. “Gold Ringer, Purple Rain! How’ve you been, guys?!”
Both stallions looked up, and broke into identical grins full of recognition. “HEEEY, SALES!” they chorused. Salespitch hopped off his ride before it had fully settled on the landing platform, ignoring the protesting yelp of the balloon pilot and the hot glare of a snooty pink passenger. The only other visitors on the pad were a quartet of elderly earth pony mares walking towards the city, and a slightly familiar- and exasperated-looking blue pegasus with rainbow hair; but Sales didn’t care to notice anything right then besides his two friends and fellow alicornis imitatos.
“Sales, buddy!” Gold Ringer, the tan stallion, trotted over to wrap Salespitch in a hearty hug. Sales oomphed slightly, nearly losing his tenuous magical grip on his briefcase. “Haven’t seen ya in a manticore’s age! What brings ya to this sparkly tourist trap?” Purple Rain was still busy guiding the balloon down with orange directional rods gripped in his light green magic, although he kept looking over his shoulder at them eagerly.
“Business, as usual,” Sales laughed. “Company I’m contracted with wanted me to investigate a potential sales opportunity at one of the hotels. Forget that, though! I knew both of you moved up here, but I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to find one of you, much less both!” He waved to Rain again as the purplish-gray stallion finished his final landing protocol and came trotting over to meet them. “Hey, didn’t you say you were coming here to play, Rain?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the pony’s garb and glancing around at the landing platform. “What’re you doing on balloon duty?”
Rain colored slightly, and Ringer gave a sheepish grin, both stallions scuffing the ground with a forehoof. “Well, you know how the entertainment industry is,” Rain admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. “It can be a little slow taking off. I get to play a few songs in a late-night variety show, but I gotta pay the bills somehow ‘til my big break, right?”
“Same for me,” Ringer put in in his deep drawl. Gold Ringer was the finest trick horseshoe player in all of southern Equestria, a talent he’d demonstrated beautifully at several A.I. gettogethers. Sales remembered him talking about how he wanted to move beyond just the sport and do a live show; moving to Las Pegasus had been his first big step in realizing that dream. “But we caught a break,” he continued with a small grin. “Turns out a pair of rare freaks is even better than one rare freak, an’ somepony figured we’d make a mighty interesting welcoming committee. Guess we sorta wet the appetite for the tourists on what kinds o’ fancy ‘n strange stuff they’ll be seein’.” Ringer shrugged his muscular shoulders, clearly unbothered. “Gotta give this place one bit o’ credit, it actually likes giving ponies like us a chance. Having a bit o’ spectacle in your saddlebag at least gets ya noticed!”
Rain smirked and nudged Sales in the ribs. “Ha, with you being here, we might get a bonus! I bet nopony here’s seen one, much less three A.I.s in the same place; they’re going to think we’re putting together a show!”
Salespitch, Gold Ringer, and Purple Rain shared a laugh at the truth of the statement. The condition they shared, alicornus imitatus, was a very rare birth disorder that created what were colloquially known as “fake alicorns” – ponies with both wings and horns, yes, but also with only half as much unicorn and pegasi magic as a standard unicorn or pegasus. The unnatural mix meant most A.I.s were weak in both kinds of magic, although it was possible to eke out a fairly normal level of magical ability through disciplined training and clever combination of the two. Sales himself considered it a point of pride that he could easily levitate an item the size of his briefcase without trouble, although manipulating more than one thing at a time started giving him strain. He was impressed that Rain was doing so well levitating his pair of landing batons in concert, although Gold Ringer was older than both of them by a good decade and had more practice under his belt.
But the fact was, the conditionwas so rare that only about twelve ponies were currently known to be living with it. Most Equestrians didn’t even know A.I.s existed – which no doubt led to the general confusion they caused wherever they went. It was difficult to consider one’s life normal when one was followed by confused, accusing, or adoring stares any time you stepped out in public, simply because you happened to physically look like the ponies who ruled the entire land of Equestria, and who also happened to have dominion over such universal forces as the Sun, the Moon, love, and friendship.
Most of the A.I.s Sales knew chose slightly more secluded lives, allowing themselves the privacy and comfort of their own homes, and of families who were familiar with them and could treat them normally. But Salespitch’s special talent was traveling sales, and so was his passion; he wouldn’t let a few odd looks, threatening accusations, and the occasional uncomfortable encounter with an alicorn worshipper stop him from pursuing his dreams. And apparently, neither would Rain or Ringer.
'Well I’m proud of you guys,” Sales said solemnly, laying his wings over both ponies’ backs. “I think you’re really gonna go far, and I wish you both the best.” The two stallions grinned humbly and joined their wings in the group supportive hug (which was still quite masculine, thank you).
“You know, you’d be welcome to come up here with us, Sales,” Rain offered. “Ringer’s not a bad singer, so he and I were thinking we’d try a duo act and work in the horseshoe tricks later; this show manager I met says he could set us up with a sweet gig based around our look. I bet we could really get something going in the variety shows with a trio.” He flapped his wings lightly, his smile sheepish but hopeful. “It’s a little cheap, sure, but it’s kind of nice to be wanted because of how we look for once, y’know?”
Sales hesitated, searching for the right words. He could see why the idea appealed to his friends, he really could. To be in a place where you were celebrated for looking different instead of ridiculed… it had a certain appeal. But he’d known what he wanted to do with his life for a long time, and stage work wasn’t involved. “Thanks, Rain,” he answered sincerely. “I really appreciate the offer, but you know me; I gotta move, and I gotta sell!” Sales shot a wry look over his shoulder at the colorful cloud-covered city. “Besides, Las Pegasus and I don’t exactly have the basis for a good long-term relationship. I don’t think she likes me very much.” The incident with the pink lemmings came to mind, and Sales suppressed a shudder. He was never going to another live animal show in this town ever again.
“’Shaw, like we didn’t know how you’d answer,” Ringer chortled, nudging Sales in the shoulder and almost knocking him off-balance. “Can’t blame us for tryin’, though!”
A spotter called out the approach of another hot air balloon. “Guess I better go and let you get back to work,” Sales said, taking a step towards the exit stairs. “Maybe we can grab dinner before I leave, though!”
“Are you in town long?” Purple Rain asked while Gold Ringer took his turn guiding a balloon with the batons suspended in his light-blue magic.
Sales bit down on a “hopefully not” response; he wasn’t going to rag on his friends’ new home to their faces just because he didn’t like the place. “Not too long, probably two days at most. My clients will either take my offer or they won’t, but either way, negotiations shouldn’t take longer than that. And they’re rooming me for my stay.”
That made Rain’s ears perk. “Rooming? Like at one of the resorts? Lucky! Which one?”
Salespitch told him the name of the resort. Rain and Ringer stopped dead, staring at him for a long, long moment until the brown stallion began to shuffle uncomfortably.
Then they both burst out laughing. Sales levitated his briefcase closer, eyes darting side to side. “What?” he demanded finally.
Ringer wiped a tear from his eye with a wingtip even as the spotter hollered at him to watch his balloon. “Sales, you weren’t kiddin’ about this city not likin’ you. Here’s wishin’ you the best of luck, ‘cause you’re gonna need it.”
Sales’s eyes narrowed, a prickle of foreboding creeping over him. “Why?”
Purple Rain put a sympathetic hoof on Sales’s shoulder. “That resort just went under new management late last year. Aaand I think you know the owners.”
Something in Rain’s tone warned Salespitch of the truth before his mind could compute it. He didn’t know how he knew, but suddenly, he knew. “Oh, please don’t tell me…” he groaned.
Ringer and Rain nodded, barely suppressing matching impish grins. "Your old buddies, the Flim Flam Brothers.”
“Should be easy to find their hotel, at least; they’ve got golden carvings o’ themselves on the doors, last I heard.”
All Salespitch could think, as the friends in whom he had frequently confided and who had heard all of his rants about a certain pair of slimy, dishonest, underhooved excuses for salesponies laughed themselves silly at his expense, was how impressively Las Pegasus had beaten her own record for fastest time of ruining one of his business trips.
Author's Note
Gold Ringer and Purple Rain are from the hot air balloon landing scene in "Grannies Gone Wild." On my blog "I Am Not An Alicorn," I make a habit of trying to canonize these alicorn "glitches" from the show, so several of my readers pointed these guys out to me right away. Once I'd drawn the pic, I couldn't just NOT write a little piece to go along with it. XD Thanks for reading! If you want to read more comics about Salespitch, you can go here: http://ask-iamnotanalicorn.tumblr.com/
