Shadow Play

"I find it hard to believe that they are getting you into work so soon after hiring you." Sultry muttered, looking over the well put together Testing. "Most employers wait until a week or two later to actually give you work by what I can recall from Periwinkle."

"Well, they likely get a lot of business and need anypony that passes first muster." Testing shrugged, checking himself over one last time. He had been told to dress up as best he could - which was exactly what he had done. Rarity's suit was the perfect blend of daring and conservative. It also was surprisingly not stuffy compared to its general appearance. "Five bits an hour isn't the most that it could be, but I've been told to expect decent tipping. Benefits of being a mixed strip club I suppose."

"If somepony tries to kiss you again, you best sock 'em before it gets awkward again." Stella commented, handing Testing his dress gloves. "Don't need there being repeat instances to make Mr. Grind Stone suspicious when you've only just gotten the job."

"Don't worry, I don't intend to give him any reason to think poorly of me anytime soon." Testing smirked, grabbing his keys from the table. "Who knows, if this job last long enough we might be able to afford a trip back to see if we can get rid of this power."

"That'd be... nice I suppose." Puppershy muttered. Testing paused momentarily at that, not sure what she meant, only to catch a glimpse of the clock on the far wall.

"Shoot, shorter on time than I thought." Testing cursed himself, grabbing his things quickly before moving out of the small apartment. "I'll be back early tomorrow, don't wait up!" He called as he closed the door behind him. What the night would bring was not a certainty, but he'd make the best of it.

"You'll be on table seven. Did you read the manual I sent you?" Clean Sweep asked as she handed Testing the box of essentials for his position.

"Yes, Ma'am. Spent yesterday familiarizing myself with procedure." Testing answered, making sure to take a firm grasp on the wooden box that was far too fancy in his opinion for what it contained. According to the manual, it held three different decks of cards - two of which were nonstandard to trip up card counters who wanted to cheat their way to a good view - , a shortwave radio to alert bouncers or call for more supplies, poker chips for those who hadn't bought enough at the front desk, a cash drawer for said transactions, and a cudgel for the rowdier guests.

Well, the cudgel was actually a fancy cane to be used to scoop the chips towards his side of the table, but it was sturdy enough that Testing could imagine it as an effective weapon.

"What's the bouncer's channel?" Clean Sweep quizzed, still holding the box firmly in her grasp, keeping it away from Testing's full possession.

"Channel three. If I want the specialists for burly miscreants I have to switch to channel five." Testing replied. Sweep gave him a good chuckle, shaking her head as she released the box into his care.

"Call them miscreants and I doubt you'll have many issu-" She trailed off suddenly, her expression fading from cheer to complete loathing. "Great, just great. Gimme a second will you?" She said already pulling up her radio, switching the channel quickly. "All stations be advised," She said into the radio's receiver with clear dictation, "we have a Code Madrigal, be advised, Code Madrigal tonight."

Not sure what to make of this, Testing checked around, unsure what 'Madrigal' meant. He knew a Code Brown, a Code Blue, and even a Code Adam - which hopefully would never get called in a place like this - but a Code Madrigal was beyond him. The general view of the area also didn't help. It seemed to be normal in the main area, though devoid of dancers in the hours before opening.

"What's a Code Madrigal? I don't think that was covered in the manual." Testing asked, turning back to Sweep.

"Boss' kid is in the building." She answered simply, switching the radio back to channel three. "It isn't covered in the manual, but perhaps it should be despite being only an inter-employee thing. Grind Stone is all business and efficiency as much as possible in this industry, but his blind spot is that kid of his. Doesn't help that the kid is smart enough to not break any rules... frequently." Testing was already getting a picture painted for him.

"If he sits at your table, be courteous and just do what he wants. He isn't bad unless you have a real star at your table." Sweep instructed, her eyes trailing the pony in question. Looking over with as nonchalantly, Testing followed the gaze right to where it landed on a young stallion. He was a few years Testing's senior - though likely only a few months older than Cress.

He wore an obnoxious yellow blazer over a black leather shirt - or at least it looked like that. Honestly, most of the guy's fashion decisions were suspect after the yellow blazer that put the sun to shame and really weren't worth actually taking in. Around him he had an entourage of what Testing could only guess were an admixture of 'yes-colts' and bad influences. Or both.

"Just get to your table and act like he isn't here unless and until he sits at your table. With any luck, he'll just pass us all by in the betting parlor and just drool over the dancers tonight." Sweep muttered, shooing Testing away. Testing, not needing another invitation to leave, did so with gusto, his dress shoes clopping loudly against the concrete floor as he made his way to the betting parlor.

The parlor was less parlor and more converted cafeteria space. It had been converted quite nicely to be fair, but it was still a cafeteria though now it had round tables instead of rectangular benches, drapes instead of bare windows, and lighting that wasn't entirely provided by florescent tubes. All in all, the place actually looked relatively well put together beyond the floor being brutalist concrete that had its cracks and broken elements filled in with clear resin to 'keep the character of the space'.

Making his way to his table, Testing quickly set up his things. Checking his list for the night, he found he had a mixed table. Quartz, Carbuncle, Spruce, and Pine - all very fine ponies by most any standard that wasn't their given stage names. Being able to tell at a glance what type of ponies to expect as far as apparent gender was certainly nice - with all stallions getting mineral based names and all mares getting tree or wood types for names - but being called 'Carbuncle' must've not been the best thing to experience. The price of anonymity, Testing supposed. At least he only had to go by 'Teller' like everypony in the room who wasn't going to undress.

The four ponies shortly arrived to his table, each wearing more than the dancers ever would that night. Most off them had a jacket, a polo, an undershirt, and any other extra piece of clothing they could manage to wear without dying of heat stroke in the old building. It might've been a dirty trick to beat off the pervert who lacked the funds to play them to the nude, but that was business for you.

"You the new guy?" One of the strippers asked, setting down a drink on one of the coasters. By appearances, the mare was drinking something strong, but he knew that this was just another trick, especially since it smelled of apples more than brandy in the room so far.

"Yeah, that's me." Testing answered, shuffling the first deck of cards while he waited. Neither Cress nor he had ever been particularly skilled in shuffling, but yesterday had been productive for Testing in more ways than one.

"Ready to see how bad ponies can get? 'Cuz you got front row seats." She joked, taking a sip from her glass. Testing chuckled as he continued to shuffle.

"I doubt they'll get as bad as I've seen ponies get." Testing smirked, watching the entryway for signs of players coming to join in the fun. "I've seen some messed up shit in my time. If they can even match half of what I've seen and experienced, I hope the bouncers turn out to be carrying swords or axes."

"That fucked up, huh?" One of the two stallions asked, a hint of genuine concern in his voice. Testing cursed his oversharing nature, but resigned himself to this fate.

"You all know about my... condition, right? Grind Stone told me that he'd be informing all staff about it." Testing said, turning back to face them.

"He told us not to try and kiss you and to ensure all guests do the same." One of the mares answered. "He also said something about it might be as bad as Mahogany, who was in quite the state the other day." So the boss had decided to go with the minorly cryptic route. Good.

"Yeah, well he's right to warn you. It isn't pretty, and I don't want anything untoward to happen tonight or any other night." The four of them nodded to that. "Shouldn't be too hard though. Don't intend on kissing anypony tonight."

"That's alright with me." One of the stallions chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Though if one of the players tries to kiss you, should we just let it happen or do you want us to go grab cameras first?" The table broke out into laughter except for Testing who just smiled and shook his head good-naturedly.

The night began in earnest a few minutes later as the first participants filtered into the betting parlor with their chips in hand and a lustful gleam in their eyes. A few ponies picked Testing's table, and were quickly dealt their cards. Due to the nature of the gambling taking place, there was no reason to try and rig the results - even if the two backup decks existed.

For the most part, the night went smoothly, each round of gamblers coming and going after they had either run out of funds or had decided to just pay the pony they wanted naked to go with them to the back room for more intimate attentions. It was strange to Testing that none of the strippers actually got too much farther than jeans and undershirt. Both of the mares never even had to show their bras even as the night began to wear on.

Dealing yet another hand to a fresh table with the strippers newly reclothed, Testing looked up to find himself looking at the pony he had hoped to not see so close. Sitting down across from him was the boss' son, his friends taking up the remaining chairs. What was worse was that this view was accompanied with that odd feeling he always seemed to get at the worst times.

"Right, Teller, gimme my cards and let's get these ponies into something more comfortable." The cocky pony smirked while setting down a heap of chips on the table. Testing looked at the strippers he had left at his table. Spruce and Carbuncle were the only ones left after the other two and their replacements had been bought for personal services, and now they were staring down the prospect of playing the owner's son.

Testing quickly complied, not seeing any reason to go against the stallion's wish to play a game. The cards flew across the table to each pony, and shortly the betting began as each pony checked their cards.

"So, Carbuncle, we meet again." The young stallion began, leaning back in his chair. "How are things going with you - oh, and I raise fifty." He said, tossing the chips onto the table with a smug smile.

"Going well, Red Tape." Carbuncle replied, throwing his jacket's chip. "You been doing well since the break up, or is that a sore spot?" Testing began sweating as he tossed a card out to each player after the first round of betting. This table was already shaping up to look not so friendly.

"The slut ran off, no skin off my nose." Red - according to Carbuncle - answered as he checked his new card with a smirk. He tossed a golden chip onto the pile, which each of his buddies met with ease. Carbuncle glanced up from his cards towards Red for a second before tossing in his shirt's chip while Spruce set down her shawl's chip.

A moment later the players all showed their hands and Spruce and Carbuncle were found lacking. The two ponies begrudgingly took off the clothes they had bet, throwing the exterior layers without much ceremony. Testing stole a quick glance at the other ponies, noticing how ravenous they were already looking. This wasn't shaping up well in his opinion.

Testing quickly reshuffled the cards while making sure everypony got the chips due to them while stowing away the spent chips from the strippers. With little delay, he sent out the cards once more, gauging the reactions of everypony at the table as betting started up once more.

"What I heard was that Goldenrod decided you weren't good enough." Carbuncle goaded while tossing his undershirt's chip onto the table. "I ain't gonna say you're lying, but I find it hard to believe Goldenrod would just run on you without so much as a letter." Red Tape glared at Carbuncle for a moment before loosening up slightly as he tossed a golden chip in response.

"Yeah, well the slut's a liar too. I'm better off without 'em." Red chuckled humorlessly while taking his next card up. "I burn through sluts; maybe one day I'll burn through you too."

"Can't burn through what already dumped your ass." Spruce chimed in, tossing her top's chip down. The table went silent for a heart stopping moment. Testing looked between the two sides of the table, his hand already moving to his nicely made cane.

"I'm sorry, was that a bitchy slut in heat moaning or just Spruce?" Red said, not even looking at the mare. "Oh wait, that's redundant." He spat, with purified venom dripping from each word. His mood wasn't helped when he found his cards coming up short.

"If that's your best material, you're going to have to lookup your supplier." Carbuncle smirked. "Not even a dog would lick up that vomit." Red just cocked an eyebrow at that as he brought up his next hand for inspection.

"Shut the fuck up." He muttered crossly, clearly losing a few screws with how cross he was becoming. If I was to guess, the trend of bad cards was holding. That opinion wasn't born out with him playing a platinum chip. The two strippers paused at that. They had enough clothes on each of them to match a platinum and then some, but if even one of the other players had better cards than the two of them they'd be reduced to very little. Probably just their undies and maybe socks.

Both of them finally tossed their chips in, staring down Red. "Next card, Teller." Red said through gritted teeth. Testing quickly shot out the cards to each player, having been lost in the spectacle of the platinum chip being used. Red smirked devilishly as he looked at his new card.

"You two know what? I'm glad I get to play you two tonight." Red Tape snarked as he fiddled with his chips as if contemplating how much to throw in. "And I'm oh so glad you decided to taunt me." He then threw another platinum chip in before turning to Testing. "Give each of my friend's a platinum."

Testing gulped, running the math quickly. "Uh... one hundred and twenty thousand bits, sir." Testing replied, unsure of what else to say in response to such a ludicrous request. Red Tape just stared at Testing in response.

"Give them the chips, Teller." Red Tape said simply, flashing his canines at Testing - whether or not that was supposed to be particularly frightening or not. "Grind Stone, your boss, is my father. Give my friends the fucking chips, Teller."

Testing looked over to the strippers who shrugged at him in response. "I know that you might like to think that being my boss' son makes you have some extraordinary leverage over me," Testing said, turning back towards Red while idly fishing out the chips, "but it won't be anything compared to the preternatural leverage I might just end up having over you when you owe my till an eighth of a mil." He said before flipping the chips onto the table.

Red Tape paused at this before leaning forward onto the table, staring Testing down. "You must be new, because I could've sworn you just threatened me." He said with a hint of menace. "Last pony who did that didn't last too incredibly long."

"Oh no, not a threat at all." Testing said while leaning back with unwarranted confidence. "I just wonder how you'll explain a deficit of that size to your pops. Heck, he might not care, but then again he might. Either way, no skin off my nose." Red Tape's eye twitched at this impertinence.

"You know fucking what?" Red Tape said after a short pause. He then tossed a second platinum chip onto the pile. "I want you to deal yourself in. Then I want you to choose between your clothes or your wallet." Testing paused. A second later an idea hit him as he stealthily switched the deck he had been using for the second deck in the box, shuffling with near murderous intent.

"Fairs fair, sir." Testing said with a pleasant smile. "I'll be betting on my clothes, though I'll have to use the standard chips. Would you say my entire ensemble is worth two platinum? It is a Rarity original." That gave Red Tape a slight moment of hesitation before he nodded.

"Alright, fuckcolt, time to see what your cards think." Red Tape snapped, waiting for Testing to deal himself in. Unlike the first deck, the second deck had texture to work with, and within seconds his shuffling resulted in a premade royal flush. Testing then set his hand on the cards, not even turning them over yet.

"How about an additional ante before we show our true colors?" Testing proposed, matching Red Tape in big dick energy. "How about, if I lose I have to keep my clothes off until I leave tonight against one more platinum, or would you like to fold?" Red Tape glared daggers straight through Testing's smugness.

"I see you and raise you a second platinum. You're walking naked back home unless you want to fold now." Red Tape said as he leaned closer to Testing. Testing put on the theatrics of considering this for a moment, only to nod. Red Tape's friends all looked at their greedy friend and the insane dealer, not sure what type of shooting star they had hitched their wagons to.

"Your move, bub." Testing jeered, his hand still resting on top of his unseen cards. The table was still for several moments as each either made peace with their gods of choice or made contracts with the nearest devil for a boost of luck.

"Read 'em and strip." Red Tape said with all the smugness in the world as the table flipped their cards over. The other players each had respectable combinations of cards. A few two pairs, a full house in front of Carbuncle, and a straight flush in front of one of Red's friends. They were overshadowed by the two royal flushes on the table. Red Tape and Testing looked at the other's cards, and both spotted the problem.

That being they both had a royal flush made up entirely of heart cards.

"THE FUCK‽" Red Tape shouted as he shot up from his chair in indignant rage. Immediately the bouncers descended from the corners of the room even as the enraged stallion flipped the table over as he bore down on Testing. It was with a sigh of relief that Testing found Red Tape's fist stopped from striking him by a particularly pleased Stonewall.

"Fuckin' fuck, Red Tape, fuckin' simmer down or fuckin' get your fuckin' scrawny fuckin' ass kicked to the fuckin' curb, fucker." He said in his overly crass way. Red Tape whirled around, even with his arm in the massive stallion's grasp, and had the sheer audacity to glare at the beast of a pony.

"Get your Tourette's syndrome ass hands off of me, Stone, or so help me I will end you." Red Tape spat. Stonewall, for one, didn't take this so well.

"Fuckin', I'm fuckin' gonna fuckin' haul your fuckin' ass to the door." Stonewall sneered. "Whether I fuckin' kick it fuckin' to the fuckin' curb is fuckin' up to your fuckin' discrimi-fuckin-nating ass being fuckin' polite enough or fuckin' not, fuckin'." Red Tape's response was interrupted by the fact that a larger, though far quieter, presence had entered the room.

"Mr. Stonewall, why is my son being held?" A stern voice said, bringing attention to itself without being raised. Testing looked over and saw Grind Stone standing at the entrance to the betting parlor with his hands folded neatly behind his back.

"Fuckin' Red fuckin' Tape tried to fuckin' assault this fuckin' Teller." He replied, gesturing towards Testing. "He fuckin' threw the fuckin' table and fuckin' disrupted the other fuckin' guests and fuckin' then fuckin' insulted my fuckin' person, fuck."

Grind Stone nodded to all this slowly, seeming to not notice the ample amounts of "fuckin'". "How exactly did my son insult you, Mr. Stonewall?"

"Fuckin' used my fuckin' condition fuckin' as a fuckin' insult, fuckin' sir." Stonewall answered as simply as he could. Grind Stone looked towards the restrained Red Tape who still fought fiercely with the wall of muscle to be let go.

"Red Tape, you ought know better than to try and insult Mr. Stonewall's condition. His services are extremely valuable to this establishment and would be sorely missed if they were to be absent." Grind Stone said in a calm tone that filled the room without trying.

"But, Dad, he's tryin to-"

"Enough of that, Red Tape. I want you to go to the backrooms and think long and hard about what you've done."

"But, Dad-"

"Enough, Red Tape, I won't have another word of it from you." Grind Stone said firmly. Red Tape finally wrenched his arm free of Stonewall - who more than likely just let him go - before storming off. Grind Stone stayed behind, and after his son was out of the room, turned his attention to the guests.

"I am sorry for that disturbance. Please, enjoy a round on me. Waiters and waitresses?" He said to the crowd at large, and a second later his offer was fulfilled as waiters in skimpy mockeries of tuxes and waitresses in fetishistic maid uniforms swarmed into the room with platters holding a variety of glasses and bottles of drinks.

It was almost as if this was something they were used to doing.

It was to no surprise of Testing's that Red's friends were absent from his table after Stonewall set it back up with little effort. In fact, his table remained empty for several minutes after the flippening - though that too was little surprise.

"I find it odd that Grind Stone seemed so willing to act against his son. I heard that he was sort of his blind spot on things." Testing commented, looking over towards the entrance even though there was nothing to really see.

"He is." Spruce answered, bringing Testing back to the table. "You think having his son sent to the back room is entirely bad? The kid was about to get kicked out on his ear and instead is likely to get a stripper all for himself and one for each of his friends!" Testing stopped and thought about that.

"He's... getting rewarded for costing his dad extra money?"

"Honestly? Yes. Grind Stone doesn't see it as such, but that's what he's doing." Carbuncle nodded. "Can't wait to see what the brat turns out to be in a few years. Either the pony that burns this place down to the ground with poor management skills or a politician of the best caliber." Testing sniggered at that.

"Yeah, like that'll happen..." Testing mused, though not entirely sure himself. The odd feeling that always seemed to pop up wasn't helping matters. Though he had been distracted by the feeling of tension that the table had radiated, he still felt the ebbing motion of that powerful feeling that now was beginning to taste like something more solid.

Before it had been faint enough that he hadn't recognized it, and even now he wasn't entirely certain he had got it right. Perhaps if he was a changeling he could've pinpointed the emotion to what it actually was, but instead he was left unsure. All he knew was what he could attempt to gleam from his own experiences and what that feeling left him with.

It was like the taste of blood with a sting of fearful anticipation. It was the feeling of watching a pony crossing the railroad tracks ahead of a train that was barreling its way around the corner with uncontrollable speed. It was the fear of the thing breathing on the nape of your neck. It was the Doctor crawling across the ceiling in an unlit room that you had the misfortune of being in. Whatever it was and whyever it had happened, it tasted familiar enough, and it held Testing's heart in its vicelike grip.

It was the forewarning chill of dread yet to be realized - the consequence without the action.