Money, Murder, and Marzipan

I might not be some university scholar, but I like to think I can do math. So it pains me to admit I had overlooked a very simple bit of it. Cooking for a whole restaurant full of people left exactly zero ponies to serve the meals to the guests. Don't judge! I wasn't used to having that much business. You'd be surprised what obvious things you don't think about when a lot of stuff is going on! If I were a killer, I would tell you how I was more than willing to take advantage of this fact with others.

So, there I was, the big day, getting everything ready to cook. When three ponies walk into the restaurant, and no, that isn't the setup for a joke. One was a unicorn stallion, and the other two were earth pony stallions. I won't go too much into detail describing ponies that probably don't exist. I don't want you searching for ponies that match their description and arresting good upstanding citizens. I will say that the unicorn was thinner and carried a big stick on his back. One of the earth ponies was a big muscle-bound guy. You know, the type you imagine hauls a wagon by picking the wagon up and carrying the wagon on his back. The third earth pony was just oily looking, and he sounded oily too. Let's call him Oily.

"You're the proprietor?" Oily asked me as he spotted me.

I stepped out to meet him. "Um, yes. If you wish to take a seat, I can be out with the menus in-"

He raised a hoof and gestured to the unicorn and other earth pony. "This is Mr.Stick and Mr.Stone; they work here now."

I took several steps back, unsure exactly how to respond to somepony just walking casually into my business and declaring somepony works there now without any say-so from me. While I thought it strange, and you might think it strange, this may be a more common occurrence in Equestria than you might think…or it might not. Ponies in little shops across Equestria might have to deal with this from time to time, but then again, I said I'm making this up.

My eighteen-year-old self, with her vast experience and diction, produced the most perfect response. A true marvel of eloquence that few could match.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Count Pouty Face has decided that he wants you to have these two gentlecolts serving tables at this establishment," Oily said flatly. No, that isn't what Oily would have really called the count, but I'm keeping consistent with my make-believe names.

"I can't afford to pay any new employees," I objected because money was clearly the most significant concern here.

Oily shook his head like he was dealing with an idiot. "They work here at Count Pouty Face's orders; they don't work for you. You'll pay Count Pouty Face a small fee each month for his generous loaning of employees, and you will say that they were working tables on any occasion they weren't if anypony asks if you know where either of these gentlecolts was at any date and time."

"And if I don't pay the fee?" I asked.

Oily smiled. "Then these gentlecolts might perform their duties very poorly. I dare say they might do some damage to the place with how clumsy they may be. Don't worry. Count Pouty Face has looked into your finances, and you'll be able to afford the fee. You cooperate with him, and you may end up seeing a significant uptick in business. The count is a fair pony."

Younger me was a much less experienced mare, and I focused on one detail. "How much business?" I told you money was the biggest concern. When something is a bigger concern than money, things get pretty bad pretty fast. You should be very worried if money isn't the biggest concern.

"Your establishment is in an ideal location for the count to conduct business meetings, only a short walk from his mansion," Oily informed me. "They may not often be as large as the one being hosted tonight or happen every day or even every week, but they should happen frequently enough to equate to a significant uptick in your bottom line each month. We would, of course, require your discretion about what goes on at them. Unfortunate things could happen if you run your mouth, little baroness."

The only times anypony referenced my title when I was growing up had been other foals, all sons and daughters of unicorn nobles. They used it to make fun of me. Technically, they'd been making fun of my parents, but it was still meant to shake me. I had no pride in my title; all it ever was to me was a mark of shame. I did not like Oily calling me little baroness.

"Please, don't call me that." Way to stand up for yourself, younger me!

"Don't antagonize her," Stick said chidingly. "She doesn't work for the organization. You're pushing her around enough as it is."

"Just accept us as workers and don't ask questions," Stone said. "Easier for everypony. You don't have any way of waiting all the tables by yourself while still trying to cook. Don't worry; we won't spill any food. I insist we keep our tips, though. This job doesn't pay enough as it is."

"Only because you two refuse to do Work," Oily sneered at them, then he grinned. "Not a bad time to start if the count gives the signal tonight. Whoever does the Work will get a big payout. You two sorry colts could really raise yourselves up."

"You don't do Work either. We're all just jobponies. Don't act so high and mighty," Stone replied to him. "I'm happy as a jobpony. Pay isn't as good, but ponies that do Work don't live as long, and they're just plain creepy. Going to suck to have so many ponies who do Work here tonight. Makes my fur crawl."

"Shouldn't be talking about Work in front of the cook," Stick warned his companions

"Eh, whatever," Oily said dismissively.

You know, looking back…saying this hypothetically, because this is clearly a fictitious story…if I were Count Pouty Face, I would have fired Oily for running his mouth in front of a bystander who had no business hearing any of this. Not Stick, though. I like Stick. Nice guy, most of the time. I'd have probably only broken Stick's leg or something– something to tell him to use his head and not to do it again. He's a professional and wouldn't take it personally. He understands the business and would respect me less if I didn't discipline him somehow, and it would lead to a complete breakdown in order if everypony thought I would let things like that slide. Of course, Count Pouty Face didn't know Oily and Stick were running their mouths, which is why both didn't take abrupt vacations, which they decided never to come back from. The count sent a lot of his employees on holidays over the years.

Oily was apparently not waiting for my unimportant feedback regarding this arrangement because he up and left. Well, not right away; he made several disparaging comments about the decor and the buildup of dust in the corners, like I wasn't going to get around to cleaning the corners out before the dinner reservations started arriving…even though I had let it sit for days. Okay, so I needed a reminder, so sue me.

Really, sue me; it might delay the last day of my trial, maybe. Bureaucracy can be your friend.

Since I had two convenient new employees, I asked them to clean up the corners. They looked at me like I was stupid and took seats at one of the tables. Stone pulled a set of cards out of somewhere and proceeded to do some low-stakes gambling with each other. They were there to wait tables, not be my errandcolts. I'd have fired them, except I wasn't paying them, and I did need the help that evening.

So I went back to the kitchen to continue my preparations. Waiting for me was my little brother, who up until now likely would have been the pony I'd have drafted into waitership at the last minute when I realized I was an idiot, but he was thankfully now spared that job.

"What do you want me to do, Plum?" he asked me eagerly, practically bouncing on his hooves.

"Sit quietly and try not to get in the way," I told him as I started setting out my spoons and starting the oven for baking. Desserts would need to be prepared ahead of time. I wasn't sure what was going to be ordered, so I planned on making the entire dessert menu twice over. It was going to be a full house.

"Do you want me to sweep the corners? I heard you talking about sweeping the corners!"

I looked at the door leading from the kitchen to the dining room. "No, I'm not sure I trust those stallions. I don't want you being near them unsupervised, and I need to be back here to cook."

"But what if somepony walks in?"

"I'll hear the bell ding as the door hits it."

"What if those stallions want food?"

"Then they can come tell me they want to place an order. They work here now, so they can walk back here."

"Isn't there anything I can doooo?" he whined.

I looked at him and then gave him my sweet big sister smile. "Yes, Fondant, there is."

He beamed at me. "What?"

I pointed a hoof at his saddlebag in the corner. "Sit there and do your homework. You have school tomorrow, and you aren't staying up late just because it is a busy night here. You also aren't going to show up to school without your homework complete."

He looked at the saddlebag with a sad face. "I could just stay home. I don't like school."

I stopped what I was doing. "The other foals aren't picking on you again, are they? If they are, please tell me. I can find time to talk to your teacher."

He looked at me with far more seriousness than a colt his age should be able to manage. "Did that ever help you when Mom and Dad did it?"

He wasn't wrong, but I didn't like doing nothing when I knew my brother was getting harassed.

The ovens were still heating up, so I walked over to him and sat down beside him, pulling him close to me with one leg. "I know it is tough, but you have to do well in school. We might both technically be nobles, but unlike me, you're a unicorn noble. That gives you opportunities I'll never have. I don't want you to have to be like me without any way out of the situation we're in. That means you have to get good grades, and you can't let those bullies get to you."

"But they say bad things. They call me a bastard."

My ears flattened. "Don't ever use that word, and I am going to have a word with your teacher about it. I'm not sure if it will help, but I'm not going to ignore it happening. You can't let them think that they can walk all over you."

"But it is never going to stop," he said, leaning into me. I could feel him starting to cry. If I were still a filly, I would have gone out and beaten the crap out of his bullies myself, but I was an adult, a young adult, but still an adult, and I'd get arrested for that.

"Hey, if we start making an actual profit, I can get you private tutoring, then you won't have to deal with those foals anymore. I can possibly get you into a private school outside of this area of town or into the school for gifted unicorns."

"I'm not gifted. I couldn't pass the entrance exam."

"Don't say that," I scolded. "You've never been given a good environment to grow in. Plus, a lot of those unicorns that go to that school aren't that gifted. They just have families with money. That exam is for families that normally wouldn't be able to afford the tuition. If you've got the money, you don't have to pass any entrance exam. I'd love for you to pass that exam and get a free ride, but I know right now you aren't getting the education you need to do so. Don't worry. I'll get you in there, and everything will get better. You can grow up to get a nice cushy government job that pays well."

He leaned into me more. "If you say so."

This is boring, Mama. There are no shinies in your story.

I will get to the shinies.

And you haven't mentioned me!

I'll get to you too. I have to do this in order, Feathers. Let me tell the story.

The princess gave me a sympathetic look. "Do you need a minute? I hadn't realized talking about your brother would have this kind of impact."

I shook my head. "I'm fine. My bird just started giving commentary, and I needed to tell him to hush."

She blinked. "He can hear what is going on in this cell?"

"He can hear what is going on here like an echo. He can't see what's going on, but he hears what I hear, at least, what I notice I hear. It is all what my brain is processing. Sadly, it doesn't work in reverse," I explained.

The princess scribbled some more notes. "Fascinating."

Hear that, Mama? I'm fascinating. You should jump to the part of the story with me.

Feathers…

What, Mama?

Shuddup!