Chapter One: Dirty Dealings
The elevator rose, slowly but surely. It was your standard elevator, the button panel to the right, the "tile" floor, everything you would expect, even the music was playing, that song is known far and wide, yet one soul, one man hates it. The man was standing in the center, staring at his reflection on the steel doors of the slow as hell elevator. A jet-black lab coat on top of a blood-red turtleneck sweater, slightly covering the pitch-black pants. And of course, a paper bag with goggles wrapped tightly around it. His hands were interlaced through the red rubber gloves. Dr. J Slug in the flesh. His goggles blinked with him; metallic flaps slid up and down across the lenses like a figure skater across fresh ice. Now and then, the left side fo the goggle would twitch, mimicking the wearer perfectly.
Soon enough a loud *Ding* was heard, and with that, the doors in front of our hero slid open. Slug stepped out and sighed in relief, for he was finally free from the dreadful music once more. The area in front of him seemed to swallow any light, and because of that, he couldn't see shit. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a common item, a flashlight. Clicking it on, he quickly realized what new hell he just stepped into.
Cubicles, rows and rows of them spilled outwards for what seemed to be forever. Rolling his head back, Slug and let out a tired groan. This day was going from Boring to Boringer (Is that even a word?). Trudging forward, he started to search the area around him, it was like trying to navigate a maze. instead of just going in straight rows, the pathways turned and split off several times, and how anyone could navigate this was beyond him.
As our hero explored the maze of dull white walls that stopped just short of his neck, his heavy-duty boots giving light paffs on the banana yellow carpet. The little 'office' spaces each had a computer, keyboard, and telephone. And of course a few items of personal affection. One had a photo of a stallion with what appeared to be his wife and foal, another had a teddy bear sitting beside the computer. And then there was one- Yep, that's a fleshlight, tapped to the underside of the desk, because why not. And now it's leaking, and with that, Slug hurried through the shoulder-high maze, waiting to get that, thing out of his head.
After wandering around for what he believed to be an hour, he finally stumbled upon something, a small sliver of light, stretching out, and stopping short before a wall. Slug quickly ducked behind the corner and peaked. An office door was open just a crack, and despite the hazed windows, he could see figures moving around in there, and he knew the janitorial staff weren't up to this floor yet.
Hushed voices lightly filled the air, yet what they were saying was up for debate. Crouching down, he hurried over to the door and listened. Rustling was heard, and the occasional metallic creak of what was believed to be a filing cabinet opening. "Where is it?" a youthful feminine sounding voice called, and Slug swore she was on helium.
"I dunno, but it's supposed to be their somewhere around here," another voice replied, this time a nervous and also young voice instead. 'What are they looking for in the first place, I can't stand this world's vagueness sometimes.'
"Well hurry up and find it, this place gives me the creeps," a third voice called, gruff, tough, and young, and since this is a world of cliches, Slug believed him to be the boss.
"Right away," the others said in unison, and the rustling continued, but this time it was more frantic, hurried. Slug shook his head, 'I was expecting a drug bust today, but instead of that, I have to arrest three children that are probably looking through daddy's files, no matter, trespassing is trespassing' he thought.
Getting up, he gave the window three taps. The trio gasped and he heard scurrying inside. Remembering last time, he said, "I'm coming in, please don't throw anything at me, today's been bad enough." The last time he was in this situation, he got a hole-punch to the head, didn't deal any permanent damage, still hurt like hell though
Slowly turning the doorknob, he opened the door and looked around. Nothing, no foals, yet there were papers strewn across the floor and drawers open, their contents sticking out. And the only window in the office in the window was open, just a smidge mind you, not a big enough gap to get through, however. The only other place there that they could have gone that is out of his line of sight, was the under the desk right in front of him.
"Oh no, they seemed to have disappeared, might as well leave." He called out mockingly, and he shut the door behind him. And soon enough the trio started to get out from underneath the ravaged furniture. None of them has noticed him yet, and he looked at them like one would look at a cat when it's trying to eat the curtains but can't do anything because it's fat, or is that just him?
When Slug cleared his throat, the three of them stopped and looked at him like they were deer in headlights. "Now then, which one of you wants to tell me what you three were up to?" He asked, one of his metallic 'eyebrows' raised, emphasizing the question. The trio of inbreds looked to one another, and then the ones at the sides pushed the center one forwards, who then hit the ground with a dull thump. Ah yes, throwing one under the proverbial bus, a classic. Slug tilted his head, repeating the question without saying it. The foal gulped and started shaking.
"W-we were just looking through some files, s-sir," the foal stuttered. It was now that Slug got a good look at him, a scrawny pegasus colt who had a jumpsuit orange coat and a green mane, which was something that reminded Slug of orange juice and toothpaste, something that Dr. Slug liked. He was wearing what was essentially a small three-piece suit, but without the tie.
The others were a unicorn filly, for which Slug was thankful for his magical resistance. And the other was a burly earth-pony colt that was frozen in fear. They all knew who he was, and they all feared him. No one moved, except for Slug of coarse, who was tapping his foot like there was no tomorrow. "I-its just dad's b-b-been behaving r-rather..." the pegasus paused, took a few deep breaths, then continued, "odd lately, so, we just wanted t-to see what t-that was a-about." The foal was shaking heavily now, eyes darting around as if he felt he was being watched.
Slug knew when to take things at face value, so he knelt down to the kid and said, "Very well, I'll help, but don't expect to get off scot-free, because this really is a job for the police." The trio started gaping like a fish with a broken jaw... if that makes any sense. He was using this opportunity to see if the CEO has any dirt he could use against him in the future. Slug then stood up and opened up a filing cabinet, the foals all looked at each other and followed suit, for them this day was just getting weirder and weirder, and as for Slug? This is just an average Tuesday, and on a side note, this world has the same seven-day week system back in Slug's home, which just baffles him even more.
Getting back to the present, it's been a couple of minutes until one of the foals said, "Hey! I found something!" Looking at the earth-pony, Slug noticed that the young one had found a file labelled 'Classified' in bold red letters. He nodded and took the folder from the young colt's hands and set it down on the desk, and opened it.
He wasn't surprised by what he found: recites for transactions for various forms of contraband, and not just drugs and weapons, but also smuggled people, ponies griffons, the occasional changing, he was used to the dark underbelly of this happy go lucky world. Dr. Slug's eyes widened, this folder didn't just contain information about illicit activities, but also who he was dealing with, the dumb fool had put the names down, not real names, unfortunately, but code names. But given enough time, he could figure out what means who.
He looked at the foals and asked, "Is your father in the building right now?" The unicorn filly shook her head slowly, sadness written across her face. Of course, how else would they get into their father's files without him knowing? He was probably on the other side of town, doing fuck knows what.
I pull out my radio and signal to dispatch, "Dispatch, this is Slug, I've got a situation here at Apple-Tech headquarters, I need a few officers out here." A few seconds later, a voice came through, "Affirmative, officers are on route, sit tight, they'll be here soon." Slug sat tight, trying to make small talk with the foals, yet no progress was made on that front.
Soon enough, two officers came through the doorway and into the office. Their eyes were wide, and slightly twitching, they've experienced the elevator. He would have laughed, if not having gone through the same horrors as them earlier. Standing up, he handed the file to one of the officers, "I'll see you lot down at the station, if you don't mind me, I'll be going."
Retracing his steps through the cubicles, he had started to take the stairs down, since he didn't want to be locked in a cramped metal box for fifteen minutes, listening to the same song over and over again. Step and step, flight after flight, he made his way downwards, the sound of his footsteps filling the air. Considering the fact that he used to do Cross-Country, this was a walk in the park, metaphorically mind you.
After a little while, he reached the bottom floor and had seen that the janitorial staff have moved on to a higher floor. Waltzing out of the entrance, metaphorically, he hopped onto his custom made motorcycle, the Hellripper. The handpainted flames on the side glistened from the light trickled from a combination of the raindrops that still clung to the cycle's sides, and the moonlight shining down. He's still confused as to how it's perfectly legal to make your own vehicles from scratch.
Hopping onto the synthetic leather seat, He put his helmet over his head, nothing obscured, just your standard pitch-black helmet with a visor, and integrated radio system. "Attention all units, there is a robber at the Maretropolis Bank For The Rich, I repeat the-" Slug had switched off the radio, and jammed the key into the ignition, the engine let out a loud roar, and then, he was off, riding into the night, and to stop the villain of the week.
This day might finally start to get interesting.
Author's Note
The first chapter of the first story, tell me if I did anything wrong.
-Bro_Bot64
