We Get Diplomatic Immunity, Right?by PascoiteChaptersChapter 1: SundayChapter 2: SaturdayChapter 3: FridayChapter 4: MondayChapter 5: Last SundayChapter 6: Last ThursdayChapter 1: SundayAuthor's Note I'll reveal my bingo card at the end of the final chapter. Chapter 1: Sunday Princess Celestia slammed her gavel down and glared over the judicial bench at Berry Punch. “You are hereby stripped of your ambassador title, and you will submit your entire stock of… merchandise for disposal by… well, whatever means I see fit.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “I have no idea how we will do so without polluting the area, but we will find a way. It’s bad enough the police spilled it everywhere.” Why Celestia needed to make a spectacle of this, Berry couldn’t discern. Berry wasn’t even on a witness stand, behind a defense table, in a courtroom. No, in Celestia’s study. Celestia had a judicial bench in her study. “Just look at her!” Celestia thundered, jabbing the gavel toward the room’s only other occupant, Pinkie Pie. For her part, Pinkie stood there vibrating into a blur, her eyes staring in opposite directions. “She’s been like this for two days solid! We had to bring her in here on a cart!” Berry could do little more than examine the mortar in the gaps of the stone floor. “There wasn’t a law…” she mumbled. And immediately regretted it, even before looking up. “I, my little pony, have the privilege of determining the law,” Celestia retorted. And she cut back in upon seeing Berry’s mouth open halfway. “I also have the privilege of determining what ponies should have known better than to do, even in the absence of violating a specific law.” “Yes, Your Highness.” The floor once again became her gaze’s only friend. At this point, best not to argue. A click of horseshoe on stone made Berry jump. “I will, however, forego a prison sentence, taking that into account. The matter of a fine… I’ll have to think about that.” Berry Punch’s knees almost buckled. She’d expected much worse. What with the prior… defendants, for lack of a better word, emerging one by one from this room in chains while Berry waited her turn in the hall, she’d had quite the sensation of being squished beneath the weight of Canterlot Mountain. “Yes, Your Highness.” With any luck, the princess didn’t have any idea how much money Berry had socked away from this venture. What was officially in the bank, yeah, but not the… other accounts. “Community service, of course.” “Yes, Your Highness.” She chaperoned enough of Berry Pinch’s school field trips already and helped out with litter pick-up in the park. Not too much of an imposition. The princess’s shadow loomed a bit closer. “Rest assured, the authorities will be inspecting any further beverages you produce, in case you decide to try recreating that vile concoction.” A reasonable precaution. Berry had no plans to, in any case. “Yes, Your Highness.” “And should I see evidence of unusual hyperactive behavior in your vicinity, well… let’s just say that I am aware your young sister lives with you. I would hate to see her endangered in any way.” Even closer the shadow crept, and Berry could practically feel that billowing mane brush the tips of her ears. “And so would you.” Berry gulped. Threats aside, no, she’d never do anything to put Pinchy at risk. “No, Your Highness, not my sister. I couldn’t.” Finally, the shadow drew back. “Good.” Berry let out a quiet breath. At least things would go back to normal. Mostly. But to think on all that had happened in just the past week. Why, even yesterday… Chapter 2: SaturdaySomething has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.Chapter 3: Friday“I need twice the product you’re importing,” Greased Palm said, leaning over his desk. Berry Punch huffed a breath and looked out the expansive window. It gave a rather nice view of Baltimare’s harbor area. “Mr. Mayor, I don’t think I can move any more of it than I already am. Somepony will notice.” “You leave that to me.” Berry only shook her head. “You mean like how you’re facing a recall election? Immediately after getting in office? Yeah, you’re great at dealing with problems.” “I can be,” he said with a glint to his eyes. “So you’d best avoid making yourself into one.” With a scowl, she started to leave, but Palm shouted, “Hang on, hang on. Don’t be like that.” So she turned around but stayed near the door. “Look,” he continued, “I still need that money, or I’ll never be able to pay my way onto the Canterlot Council.” That was his game? “Why should I care about that?” she said with a shrug. “Because if I make money, I spread it around.” “I’m making enough as it is.” Palm snorted at her and grabbed a piece of gum from his desk drawer. “You think any other mayor is gonna let you sell that? Our arrangement goes, your market goes, unless you just wanna do small potatoes stuff with a few customers.” “That’s sounding better all the time,” she muttered. Berry glanced back up, halfway expecting him to tear into her, but he only grinned. “I was thinking I could get my associate Pile Driver to assist you.” At the mention of his name, that lummox stepped out of the shadowed corner near the private elevator. “He can accompany you, carry a lot more than you…” Now it was Berry’s turn to snort. “He’d never be allowed.” “Unless I got him certified as—” Berry Punch burst out laughing. “As a cultural ambassador? You have to be joking! Would you… Hang on, I have to remember the phrasing. A foreign idiom a friend taught me. Um… would you cheat ghosts to eat tofu?” Exchanging a glance with Pile Driver, Greased Palm shrugged. So Berry trotted back over to the desk and unpacked her saddlebag. A glass tumbler, a dozen bottles of fruit juices and extracts. She poured a little of one into the glass, then a splash of a second, a dram of another, three drops of this, a jigger of that. Soon enough, the glass sat there all beautifully arrayed, the liquid inside perfectly layered in rainbow stripes. In the correct order even. Palm’s eyes widened, and he reached for the glass. “Not yet,” Berry said. “Just wait.” Then the glass fizzed up and fogged, and after another few seconds, it reverted to its former coloration, only in reverse order now. “Yeah. Getting your thug certified as a master drink mixer should pose no problem.” Quickly, she packed up her bottles, leaving the drink behind for him to enjoy. She departed before Palm could come up with any further argument. But all she could think about on her way out the door was that only a few days ago, it had seemed like such a good idea to work out of one of the larger cities, not so close to home… Author's Note I encountered that "would you cheat ghosts to eat tofu" thing as an example of poorly translated lines from foreign movie subtitles, and I showed it to a Malaysian friend. He had to think about it for a moment as he worked through how to say it in several different Chinese dialects, and then his eyes lit up. Apparently it's a word-for-word translation of an idiom in Cantonese, which is roughly equivalent to: "What do you think I am? Stupid?" Chapter 4: MondayAll Berry Punch could think about on her way through the door was that she’d gotten in over her head, and she hadn’t even begun yet. She took the empty seat in front of the desk and peered out over the Baltimare skyline. “Ah, yes, Miss Berry Punch,” said Mayor Greased Palm. “I saw your name on the meeting agenda today. I must say I was surprised to get a visit from you. It seemed you were doing quite well for yourself. Is there something I can help you with?” Nothing she hadn’t thought of already. Maybe she should just leave well enough alone. “It occurred to me that selling so close to home would make it rather easy to track me down.” “True, true.” Palm rubbed his chin. “I had a sample of your product the other day, actually. Good stuff. I didn’t know what to expect, but that wasn’t it.” “Oh? When did you—?” “In Ponyville. My associate Pile Driver picked up a couple of your free samples.” A drawer rumbled open behind the desk, and Palm levitated an empty bottle out. “It was… different. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe we can help each other, but have you thought out the logistics of all this? Like these bottles—” he jabbed a hoof toward it again “—aren’t exactly inconspicuous. You’d have a hard time keeping ponies from seeing them in the dump.” What, did he consider her a rank amateur? “I take them back with me, where I got them. They even pay me for the empties. The glass is reusable.” With a squint, he eyed her with a little more respect. “I see. And you have storage space lined up?” “Right here in Baltimare, on the docks.” “Presumptuous to book that already, before you knew if I’d go along with it.” He swiveled his chair around and surveyed the dust-covered buildings along the waterfront. “Why wouldn’t you though? It’s a win-win. I get to throw ponies off my trail, and you get bits in your pocket.” That made his eyes light up. “How many bits?” Berry hadn’t really thought about that. “Thirty percent?” “How much you selling it for?” “Ten bits a can.” He swung back around and grabbed a quill. “Let’s see, four cases a day, thirty-six bottles per case… gotta be at least sixty percent for my trouble.” “Trouble?” Berry replied through her hearty laugh. “You don’t have to do anything. Just look the other way. Think of it as a business. You want me to give over a controlling interest that easily? Without me, there is no product. And I’m not even asking for an investment.” His quill’s scratching ceased, and he looked up from his paper. “You’re asking for my influence. That isn’t free.” “It also doesn’t cost you anything.” After a quick breath out, he gave her an appraising look. “The cost isn’t always in bits.” He wouldn’t budge but so much. And he could spread the word to a rather large customer base. “Forty-five percent, last offer. In cash, every week.” Greased Palm would take it. Cash? He’d barely stayed in his seat at the mention of it, and he was even starting to nod. Yes, something told her that conversation she’d overheard yesterday would prove useful… Chapter 5: Last Sunday“I need cash, and I need it now,” the stallion at the next table muttered. Berry Punch’s ears perked. It was coming from directly behind her, and try as she might, she couldn’t catch an inconspicuous glimpse of him. Holding her spoon up only resulted in a blurry, upside-down image. Any more of his conversation got washed out by the sounds of shouting, laughing, carnival rides, and calliope music carrying over from the town square. Cash she had. And she was losing the chance to make some more, she noted as she glanced at her booth in the distance with its “back in 5 minutes” sign. No, cash wasn’t a problem. But whoever had spoken behind her had a certain… quality to his voice. One like Filthy Rich’s. One that could make things happen. And he had an entourage. With her luck, she’d probably find out it was just Hayseed Turniptruck’s twin brother. “Your check, sir,” the waitress said. Well, now or never. Berry left enough bits on the table to cover her bill and a tip, then rushed after the white-coated earth pony, only catching up to him half a block back toward the fair. “Excuse me,” she said through her panting, “I couldn’t help hearing at the restaurant. I… well, cash isn’t an issue for me. It’s distribution. And I… um, maybe we could help each other out?” For what must have been a full minute, he stared at her as if Discord had changed her head into a cantaloupe. “I’m sorry,” he replied. “What is it you think I can do?” “I—I don’t… Well, you sounded like somepony with business know-how. I have a unique product that’ll sell, no problem, but I don’t have a way to get it to where it needs to be sold.” He kept staring. “Why can’t you sell it here?” With a nervous laugh, she pointed to her booth, a substantial line already forming despite her absence. “I just think it might prove, um, advantageous to distribute further afield, where I’m not as well known.” He shared a glance with his rather thuggy-looking tagalong. Was a thuggy-looking tagalong a good thing? “Tell you what,” he said, “take my associate Pile Driver and give him a sample of whatever it is you’ve got. We’ll have a try and tell you if we want in. Name’s Greased Palm, by the way.” He didn’t even wait for an answer, just went on toward some dais they’d set up in the square. Then Pile Driver poked her with an elbow. “Let’s get to it, then.” He adjusted the knot of his necktie. “Da boss’s time is valuable.” So she beckoned for him to follow. She stashed the break sign, then filled several orders for punch, along with one or two for “special punch,” always requested quietly. Another of those went to Pile Driver, who sniffed it, took a sip, and gave it an appreciative grin. And just as quickly, he left to rejoin Greased Palm. Over the clamor for more cups of punch, Palm’s voice carried from where he’d attracted a pretty big crowd. “It’s nice to see so many ponies here today,” he shouted. “I always like to get about, and Ponyville will always hold a special place in my heart. But for those of you travelling here from Baltimare, like me, I hope you’ll consider voting me a second term in office.” Oh. Maybe not such a good choice. “I promise to promote the values of small-town Equestria,” he continued. “We’ve got to stamp out—” he punctuated that with a sharp hoof strike on the wooden platform “—the vices that are corrupting our population. No more gambling, implement strict control over salt lick establishments, eliminate truancy…” On second thought, this could work out quite well. Yet another new frontier for her. Why only half a week ago… Chapter 6: Last Thursday“Congratulations on being selected as cultural ambassadors for Equestria!” Twilight Sparkle spouted as she strode up the line of ponies standing more or less at attention. That explained the invitation, but cultural ambassador? What did that even mean? A glance at the other ponies said they didn’t exactly know, either. And here Twilight came back down the line, saying something vague about Daisy’s knack for raising and arranging flowers, Saffron Masala’s talent for cooking, Octavia’s prowess at music. A few more whose names she hadn’t caught, but Twilight rambled about their skills in poetry, painting, and science. That science one could even pass as a reasonable double for Twilight, if she changed her colors and lost the glasses. She got an unusually large grin from Twilight, too. Then Twilight had returned all the way down to Berry’s end. “And you, Berry Punch,” she said. “You make the most amazing drinkable concoctions, and your Reverse Rainbow Cooler is legendary.” Okay, but the griffons and dragons didn’t seem to care too much for fancy drinks and flowers and physics. The reformed changelings, maybe, but they didn’t need a whole new ambassadorial staff for that. What was this all about? “So, if you will all follow me, I have something to show you.” Now her dragon assistant Spike wore an awfully big smile as well. Then Twilight led them through hallways with enough twists and turns that Berry lost track of the way to get back out, though Twilight’s constant prattling certainly didn’t help her keep her mind on doing so. Did nopony shut doors around here? They all hung open, a broom closet here, a bedroom teeming with kites, another with a pile of comics and… was that a stuffed toy of Rarity? While staring at it, she’d nearly run into that glasses-wearing pony who looked like Twilight, as the small crowd stood in the doorway to… well… Berry Punch had never seen this particular room in the castle. Some kind of weird mirror sat there with a book perched atop it, and machinery that looked like a bellows pumping furiously. Twilight simply beamed at it. “And now I have something very bizarre to explain to you,” she said. Among the quadrupedal species in Equestria, ponies, by far, spent the most time standing on two legs. So at least that part of this place didn’t seem too outlandish. Not having a choice, maybe. But the hands. Minotaurs didn’t know how good they had it. Or dragons, Berry guessed. Normally, she’d have to curl an entire hoof around a glass to take a drink. Now, just the—what did they call it?—thumb on one side, fingers around the other. Anywhere from one to four! Which could leave several of them to do other things, but whatever she’d tried with the longest finger got her an angry stare from this Timber Spruce guy sitting across the table from her. “So, this is real magic?” he said, flicking the shot glass in front of him with a pleasant ting. The rainbow stripes had just reversed, according to the recipe. “Yes, but—” He held up a hand. “I got it. Twilight… Your Twilight… Gah, I can’t keep them straight. Whatever. A Twilight already gave us the speech about limiting how much magic bleeds into this world. Trust me, I’ve seen magic myself, and I know what trouble it can cause.” Funny, Berry Punch had never really considered her talent an expression of magic. But Twilight said this kind was one that faded away when it spent its effect, so Berry could mix as many drinks here as she wanted without fear of contamination. So he downed the glass’s contents, then gave a thoughtful smirk and nodded. “Mmm. That’s good. Just fruit juices?” “Yeah. But I have to mix it on the other side, before I bring it here, so the magic can get it started. Wouldn’t work on this side.” Which was kind of the point, she guessed. “What kinds? Probably some exotic things I’ve never heard of.” She hadn’t considered that. “Strawberries? Apples? Pears? You don’t have things like that here?” “Yeah. I guess they’re just infused with magic in your world. Maybe I’ll see when I get to come through.” “Ooh, Twilight’s having a two-way exchange? Cool. I wonder what kind of pony you’ll be. Haven’t met an equivalent of yours in Equestria, but I don’t know how common that is.” He sure gave off an earth pony vibe, though. “So, go ahead and try the rest of yours,” he said with a grin. “What are they?” “Tell you after you have some.” With a shrug, she drank down the first glass. Kind of strange, but… heh, it had her laughing. Haha! This was good! It made her all jittery and lightheaded. Fruity, in an odd way. “Heh heh. Whaddya call thish shtuff?” “You mean brand name or—?” he said. She was already guzzling the second glass, and… Sweet Celestia. It danced on her tongue, twirling, whirling, swirling, until she realized in fact she was twirling, or at least had been, until she keeled over and stared up into an uncomfortably bright sun. Did Celestia raise this one, too? “You alright?” She blinked and somehow located Timber Spruce among all the dancing lights. “Yeah. What was that stuff?” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet, then helped her navigate back to her chair. “First one was an energy drink.” The biggest sugar rush in Equestria had nothing on that. “Can I take a hundred bottles of it back with me?” “Sure,” he replied, scratching his head. “Twilight said there’s an allowance of fifty bits a week for each of us to introduce new things to our world. I certainly would like to spend mine on what you’ve shown me. They’d be a big hit at the school cafeteria’s juice bar. Whatever you want to kick in of your own money is up to you. But I can show you where the store is if—” “Yes, please,” she said, finding her balance enough to give him a big hug. “And the second glass?” “A lot more expensive.” Pulling an arm free from her, he reached under the table and produced a corked bottle. “It’s called wine. There’s a couple bottles in the gift box for you to take home.” Her access badge would allow her one round trip a week. And if she went at a time nopony could see what she was bringing back… “How late’s that store open? Do they deliver?” “Never closes, and yes.” “Perfect. I’ll probably need about a hundred bottles of each a week. Maybe twice that of the energy drinks.” Again, he scratched his head. “That’s a lot to carry.” “I’m an earth pony. Doesn’t matter. Just shove it through the portal, and I can handle it.” “Okay, but that’s an awful lot to share.” Berry gave him a shrug. “Eh, they’re small bottles.” But he patted the bottle of wine. “I meant this stuff.” Immediately, she reached for it. “No way in Tartarus. I’m keeping this for myself.” Author's Note I got bingo card #010: Berry Punch, Pony on Earth, Baltimare, Pony Politics, and Pony Gangsters. It pretty much begged for this plot.
Chapter 1: SundayAuthor's Note I'll reveal my bingo card at the end of the final chapter. Chapter 1: Sunday Princess Celestia slammed her gavel down and glared over the judicial bench at Berry Punch. “You are hereby stripped of your ambassador title, and you will submit your entire stock of… merchandise for disposal by… well, whatever means I see fit.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “I have no idea how we will do so without polluting the area, but we will find a way. It’s bad enough the police spilled it everywhere.” Why Celestia needed to make a spectacle of this, Berry couldn’t discern. Berry wasn’t even on a witness stand, behind a defense table, in a courtroom. No, in Celestia’s study. Celestia had a judicial bench in her study. “Just look at her!” Celestia thundered, jabbing the gavel toward the room’s only other occupant, Pinkie Pie. For her part, Pinkie stood there vibrating into a blur, her eyes staring in opposite directions. “She’s been like this for two days solid! We had to bring her in here on a cart!” Berry could do little more than examine the mortar in the gaps of the stone floor. “There wasn’t a law…” she mumbled. And immediately regretted it, even before looking up. “I, my little pony, have the privilege of determining the law,” Celestia retorted. And she cut back in upon seeing Berry’s mouth open halfway. “I also have the privilege of determining what ponies should have known better than to do, even in the absence of violating a specific law.” “Yes, Your Highness.” The floor once again became her gaze’s only friend. At this point, best not to argue. A click of horseshoe on stone made Berry jump. “I will, however, forego a prison sentence, taking that into account. The matter of a fine… I’ll have to think about that.” Berry Punch’s knees almost buckled. She’d expected much worse. What with the prior… defendants, for lack of a better word, emerging one by one from this room in chains while Berry waited her turn in the hall, she’d had quite the sensation of being squished beneath the weight of Canterlot Mountain. “Yes, Your Highness.” With any luck, the princess didn’t have any idea how much money Berry had socked away from this venture. What was officially in the bank, yeah, but not the… other accounts. “Community service, of course.” “Yes, Your Highness.” She chaperoned enough of Berry Pinch’s school field trips already and helped out with litter pick-up in the park. Not too much of an imposition. The princess’s shadow loomed a bit closer. “Rest assured, the authorities will be inspecting any further beverages you produce, in case you decide to try recreating that vile concoction.” A reasonable precaution. Berry had no plans to, in any case. “Yes, Your Highness.” “And should I see evidence of unusual hyperactive behavior in your vicinity, well… let’s just say that I am aware your young sister lives with you. I would hate to see her endangered in any way.” Even closer the shadow crept, and Berry could practically feel that billowing mane brush the tips of her ears. “And so would you.” Berry gulped. Threats aside, no, she’d never do anything to put Pinchy at risk. “No, Your Highness, not my sister. I couldn’t.” Finally, the shadow drew back. “Good.” Berry let out a quiet breath. At least things would go back to normal. Mostly. But to think on all that had happened in just the past week. Why, even yesterday…
Chapter 3: Friday“I need twice the product you’re importing,” Greased Palm said, leaning over his desk. Berry Punch huffed a breath and looked out the expansive window. It gave a rather nice view of Baltimare’s harbor area. “Mr. Mayor, I don’t think I can move any more of it than I already am. Somepony will notice.” “You leave that to me.” Berry only shook her head. “You mean like how you’re facing a recall election? Immediately after getting in office? Yeah, you’re great at dealing with problems.” “I can be,” he said with a glint to his eyes. “So you’d best avoid making yourself into one.” With a scowl, she started to leave, but Palm shouted, “Hang on, hang on. Don’t be like that.” So she turned around but stayed near the door. “Look,” he continued, “I still need that money, or I’ll never be able to pay my way onto the Canterlot Council.” That was his game? “Why should I care about that?” she said with a shrug. “Because if I make money, I spread it around.” “I’m making enough as it is.” Palm snorted at her and grabbed a piece of gum from his desk drawer. “You think any other mayor is gonna let you sell that? Our arrangement goes, your market goes, unless you just wanna do small potatoes stuff with a few customers.” “That’s sounding better all the time,” she muttered. Berry glanced back up, halfway expecting him to tear into her, but he only grinned. “I was thinking I could get my associate Pile Driver to assist you.” At the mention of his name, that lummox stepped out of the shadowed corner near the private elevator. “He can accompany you, carry a lot more than you…” Now it was Berry’s turn to snort. “He’d never be allowed.” “Unless I got him certified as—” Berry Punch burst out laughing. “As a cultural ambassador? You have to be joking! Would you… Hang on, I have to remember the phrasing. A foreign idiom a friend taught me. Um… would you cheat ghosts to eat tofu?” Exchanging a glance with Pile Driver, Greased Palm shrugged. So Berry trotted back over to the desk and unpacked her saddlebag. A glass tumbler, a dozen bottles of fruit juices and extracts. She poured a little of one into the glass, then a splash of a second, a dram of another, three drops of this, a jigger of that. Soon enough, the glass sat there all beautifully arrayed, the liquid inside perfectly layered in rainbow stripes. In the correct order even. Palm’s eyes widened, and he reached for the glass. “Not yet,” Berry said. “Just wait.” Then the glass fizzed up and fogged, and after another few seconds, it reverted to its former coloration, only in reverse order now. “Yeah. Getting your thug certified as a master drink mixer should pose no problem.” Quickly, she packed up her bottles, leaving the drink behind for him to enjoy. She departed before Palm could come up with any further argument. But all she could think about on her way out the door was that only a few days ago, it had seemed like such a good idea to work out of one of the larger cities, not so close to home… Author's Note I encountered that "would you cheat ghosts to eat tofu" thing as an example of poorly translated lines from foreign movie subtitles, and I showed it to a Malaysian friend. He had to think about it for a moment as he worked through how to say it in several different Chinese dialects, and then his eyes lit up. Apparently it's a word-for-word translation of an idiom in Cantonese, which is roughly equivalent to: "What do you think I am? Stupid?"
Chapter 4: MondayAll Berry Punch could think about on her way through the door was that she’d gotten in over her head, and she hadn’t even begun yet. She took the empty seat in front of the desk and peered out over the Baltimare skyline. “Ah, yes, Miss Berry Punch,” said Mayor Greased Palm. “I saw your name on the meeting agenda today. I must say I was surprised to get a visit from you. It seemed you were doing quite well for yourself. Is there something I can help you with?” Nothing she hadn’t thought of already. Maybe she should just leave well enough alone. “It occurred to me that selling so close to home would make it rather easy to track me down.” “True, true.” Palm rubbed his chin. “I had a sample of your product the other day, actually. Good stuff. I didn’t know what to expect, but that wasn’t it.” “Oh? When did you—?” “In Ponyville. My associate Pile Driver picked up a couple of your free samples.” A drawer rumbled open behind the desk, and Palm levitated an empty bottle out. “It was… different. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe we can help each other, but have you thought out the logistics of all this? Like these bottles—” he jabbed a hoof toward it again “—aren’t exactly inconspicuous. You’d have a hard time keeping ponies from seeing them in the dump.” What, did he consider her a rank amateur? “I take them back with me, where I got them. They even pay me for the empties. The glass is reusable.” With a squint, he eyed her with a little more respect. “I see. And you have storage space lined up?” “Right here in Baltimare, on the docks.” “Presumptuous to book that already, before you knew if I’d go along with it.” He swiveled his chair around and surveyed the dust-covered buildings along the waterfront. “Why wouldn’t you though? It’s a win-win. I get to throw ponies off my trail, and you get bits in your pocket.” That made his eyes light up. “How many bits?” Berry hadn’t really thought about that. “Thirty percent?” “How much you selling it for?” “Ten bits a can.” He swung back around and grabbed a quill. “Let’s see, four cases a day, thirty-six bottles per case… gotta be at least sixty percent for my trouble.” “Trouble?” Berry replied through her hearty laugh. “You don’t have to do anything. Just look the other way. Think of it as a business. You want me to give over a controlling interest that easily? Without me, there is no product. And I’m not even asking for an investment.” His quill’s scratching ceased, and he looked up from his paper. “You’re asking for my influence. That isn’t free.” “It also doesn’t cost you anything.” After a quick breath out, he gave her an appraising look. “The cost isn’t always in bits.” He wouldn’t budge but so much. And he could spread the word to a rather large customer base. “Forty-five percent, last offer. In cash, every week.” Greased Palm would take it. Cash? He’d barely stayed in his seat at the mention of it, and he was even starting to nod. Yes, something told her that conversation she’d overheard yesterday would prove useful…
Chapter 5: Last Sunday“I need cash, and I need it now,” the stallion at the next table muttered. Berry Punch’s ears perked. It was coming from directly behind her, and try as she might, she couldn’t catch an inconspicuous glimpse of him. Holding her spoon up only resulted in a blurry, upside-down image. Any more of his conversation got washed out by the sounds of shouting, laughing, carnival rides, and calliope music carrying over from the town square. Cash she had. And she was losing the chance to make some more, she noted as she glanced at her booth in the distance with its “back in 5 minutes” sign. No, cash wasn’t a problem. But whoever had spoken behind her had a certain… quality to his voice. One like Filthy Rich’s. One that could make things happen. And he had an entourage. With her luck, she’d probably find out it was just Hayseed Turniptruck’s twin brother. “Your check, sir,” the waitress said. Well, now or never. Berry left enough bits on the table to cover her bill and a tip, then rushed after the white-coated earth pony, only catching up to him half a block back toward the fair. “Excuse me,” she said through her panting, “I couldn’t help hearing at the restaurant. I… well, cash isn’t an issue for me. It’s distribution. And I… um, maybe we could help each other out?” For what must have been a full minute, he stared at her as if Discord had changed her head into a cantaloupe. “I’m sorry,” he replied. “What is it you think I can do?” “I—I don’t… Well, you sounded like somepony with business know-how. I have a unique product that’ll sell, no problem, but I don’t have a way to get it to where it needs to be sold.” He kept staring. “Why can’t you sell it here?” With a nervous laugh, she pointed to her booth, a substantial line already forming despite her absence. “I just think it might prove, um, advantageous to distribute further afield, where I’m not as well known.” He shared a glance with his rather thuggy-looking tagalong. Was a thuggy-looking tagalong a good thing? “Tell you what,” he said, “take my associate Pile Driver and give him a sample of whatever it is you’ve got. We’ll have a try and tell you if we want in. Name’s Greased Palm, by the way.” He didn’t even wait for an answer, just went on toward some dais they’d set up in the square. Then Pile Driver poked her with an elbow. “Let’s get to it, then.” He adjusted the knot of his necktie. “Da boss’s time is valuable.” So she beckoned for him to follow. She stashed the break sign, then filled several orders for punch, along with one or two for “special punch,” always requested quietly. Another of those went to Pile Driver, who sniffed it, took a sip, and gave it an appreciative grin. And just as quickly, he left to rejoin Greased Palm. Over the clamor for more cups of punch, Palm’s voice carried from where he’d attracted a pretty big crowd. “It’s nice to see so many ponies here today,” he shouted. “I always like to get about, and Ponyville will always hold a special place in my heart. But for those of you travelling here from Baltimare, like me, I hope you’ll consider voting me a second term in office.” Oh. Maybe not such a good choice. “I promise to promote the values of small-town Equestria,” he continued. “We’ve got to stamp out—” he punctuated that with a sharp hoof strike on the wooden platform “—the vices that are corrupting our population. No more gambling, implement strict control over salt lick establishments, eliminate truancy…” On second thought, this could work out quite well. Yet another new frontier for her. Why only half a week ago…
Chapter 6: Last Thursday“Congratulations on being selected as cultural ambassadors for Equestria!” Twilight Sparkle spouted as she strode up the line of ponies standing more or less at attention. That explained the invitation, but cultural ambassador? What did that even mean? A glance at the other ponies said they didn’t exactly know, either. And here Twilight came back down the line, saying something vague about Daisy’s knack for raising and arranging flowers, Saffron Masala’s talent for cooking, Octavia’s prowess at music. A few more whose names she hadn’t caught, but Twilight rambled about their skills in poetry, painting, and science. That science one could even pass as a reasonable double for Twilight, if she changed her colors and lost the glasses. She got an unusually large grin from Twilight, too. Then Twilight had returned all the way down to Berry’s end. “And you, Berry Punch,” she said. “You make the most amazing drinkable concoctions, and your Reverse Rainbow Cooler is legendary.” Okay, but the griffons and dragons didn’t seem to care too much for fancy drinks and flowers and physics. The reformed changelings, maybe, but they didn’t need a whole new ambassadorial staff for that. What was this all about? “So, if you will all follow me, I have something to show you.” Now her dragon assistant Spike wore an awfully big smile as well. Then Twilight led them through hallways with enough twists and turns that Berry lost track of the way to get back out, though Twilight’s constant prattling certainly didn’t help her keep her mind on doing so. Did nopony shut doors around here? They all hung open, a broom closet here, a bedroom teeming with kites, another with a pile of comics and… was that a stuffed toy of Rarity? While staring at it, she’d nearly run into that glasses-wearing pony who looked like Twilight, as the small crowd stood in the doorway to… well… Berry Punch had never seen this particular room in the castle. Some kind of weird mirror sat there with a book perched atop it, and machinery that looked like a bellows pumping furiously. Twilight simply beamed at it. “And now I have something very bizarre to explain to you,” she said. Among the quadrupedal species in Equestria, ponies, by far, spent the most time standing on two legs. So at least that part of this place didn’t seem too outlandish. Not having a choice, maybe. But the hands. Minotaurs didn’t know how good they had it. Or dragons, Berry guessed. Normally, she’d have to curl an entire hoof around a glass to take a drink. Now, just the—what did they call it?—thumb on one side, fingers around the other. Anywhere from one to four! Which could leave several of them to do other things, but whatever she’d tried with the longest finger got her an angry stare from this Timber Spruce guy sitting across the table from her. “So, this is real magic?” he said, flicking the shot glass in front of him with a pleasant ting. The rainbow stripes had just reversed, according to the recipe. “Yes, but—” He held up a hand. “I got it. Twilight… Your Twilight… Gah, I can’t keep them straight. Whatever. A Twilight already gave us the speech about limiting how much magic bleeds into this world. Trust me, I’ve seen magic myself, and I know what trouble it can cause.” Funny, Berry Punch had never really considered her talent an expression of magic. But Twilight said this kind was one that faded away when it spent its effect, so Berry could mix as many drinks here as she wanted without fear of contamination. So he downed the glass’s contents, then gave a thoughtful smirk and nodded. “Mmm. That’s good. Just fruit juices?” “Yeah. But I have to mix it on the other side, before I bring it here, so the magic can get it started. Wouldn’t work on this side.” Which was kind of the point, she guessed. “What kinds? Probably some exotic things I’ve never heard of.” She hadn’t considered that. “Strawberries? Apples? Pears? You don’t have things like that here?” “Yeah. I guess they’re just infused with magic in your world. Maybe I’ll see when I get to come through.” “Ooh, Twilight’s having a two-way exchange? Cool. I wonder what kind of pony you’ll be. Haven’t met an equivalent of yours in Equestria, but I don’t know how common that is.” He sure gave off an earth pony vibe, though. “So, go ahead and try the rest of yours,” he said with a grin. “What are they?” “Tell you after you have some.” With a shrug, she drank down the first glass. Kind of strange, but… heh, it had her laughing. Haha! This was good! It made her all jittery and lightheaded. Fruity, in an odd way. “Heh heh. Whaddya call thish shtuff?” “You mean brand name or—?” he said. She was already guzzling the second glass, and… Sweet Celestia. It danced on her tongue, twirling, whirling, swirling, until she realized in fact she was twirling, or at least had been, until she keeled over and stared up into an uncomfortably bright sun. Did Celestia raise this one, too? “You alright?” She blinked and somehow located Timber Spruce among all the dancing lights. “Yeah. What was that stuff?” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet, then helped her navigate back to her chair. “First one was an energy drink.” The biggest sugar rush in Equestria had nothing on that. “Can I take a hundred bottles of it back with me?” “Sure,” he replied, scratching his head. “Twilight said there’s an allowance of fifty bits a week for each of us to introduce new things to our world. I certainly would like to spend mine on what you’ve shown me. They’d be a big hit at the school cafeteria’s juice bar. Whatever you want to kick in of your own money is up to you. But I can show you where the store is if—” “Yes, please,” she said, finding her balance enough to give him a big hug. “And the second glass?” “A lot more expensive.” Pulling an arm free from her, he reached under the table and produced a corked bottle. “It’s called wine. There’s a couple bottles in the gift box for you to take home.” Her access badge would allow her one round trip a week. And if she went at a time nopony could see what she was bringing back… “How late’s that store open? Do they deliver?” “Never closes, and yes.” “Perfect. I’ll probably need about a hundred bottles of each a week. Maybe twice that of the energy drinks.” Again, he scratched his head. “That’s a lot to carry.” “I’m an earth pony. Doesn’t matter. Just shove it through the portal, and I can handle it.” “Okay, but that’s an awful lot to share.” Berry gave him a shrug. “Eh, they’re small bottles.” But he patted the bottle of wine. “I meant this stuff.” Immediately, she reached for it. “No way in Tartarus. I’m keeping this for myself.” Author's Note I got bingo card #010: Berry Punch, Pony on Earth, Baltimare, Pony Politics, and Pony Gangsters. It pretty much begged for this plot.
