Sherlock: The Magical Murders

The smiles returned on the two buisness ponies' faces.

"Oh, so you've heard of us?" asked Flim.

"I bet their friend told them about us," said Flam, gesturing to Twilight. "We've met before. It's... Nightlight Sparkle, right?"

"Twilight," she replied, flatly. "My name's Twilight Sparkle."

"You're Flim and Flam?" asked John. "I thought you guys were in Hoofington."

"We usually are," started Flim, his businessman grin starting to creep John out. "But sometimes we-"

"-go on breaks," continued Flam, "and vacation in our cabin, but we still-"

"-sell some of our wares here for any passersby that might-"

"-pass by!"

Flim held a hoof to his face, looking astonished. "Gee, Flam, we forgot to welcome in our guests!"

"Oh, I can't believe we could've forgotten that, Flim! Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home," the cream pony said, moving aside to let them through.

Sherlock stepped in first. "Thank you, and stop acting all pretend-friendly. It's annoying, stupid, and frankly, dull," he commented in his usual blasé tone.

The buisness brothers simply stood there beside the doorway in slight surprisement at the rude comment, while Sherlock walked in.

"Yeah, he's always like that," said John, as he walked past them. Twilight gave them a weak glare.

The three travelers walked into the living room of the log cabin and found that the inside was part machine, just like the outside. The large sitting room had wires covering and snaking through the walls, gears and screws on the tables next to half-finished machinery, and almost everything looked modified by some kind of motor or battery. If you took out all that, it would look like the kind of normal sitting room you'd expect from a log cabin.

"Sorry if it might be a bit cluttered," said Flim, "but we were busy working on our products and projects."

"We absolutely love crafting mechanics," added Flam, levitating springs and screws from the couch to let their guests sit, "as you can see. We hope you won't mind."

John sat down on the old, cream colored couch and smiled. "Oh no, it's okay. I mean, I'm used to clutter," he said, silently glaring at Sherlock, who had taken the seat next to him. "Oh, I almost forgot. My name is John Watson, and he's Sherlock Holmes."

"Flim, Flam, if I've heard correctly, you sell items to make ponies' lives easier, right?" asked Sherlock, straying from the present conversation.

Flam started to power a lamp with his magic and beamed at the gray pony's words. "Oh yes, we do! We sell many, many things to help others! As I'm sure Twilight has seen."

The purple unicorn's death glare weakened Flam's smile. "The only way your machine helped anyone," Twilight replied angrily, "is because it tried to help you guys take away my best friend's farm! That was her home, for Pete's sake!"

This story was new to John, so he frowned a bit in confusion. "Wait, they tried to take away somepony's farm? Whose?"

"Bon Bon's," Sherlock replied sarcastically.

"Really?"

"No! Of course not," the detective complained, sounding throughly disappointed in John. "Who else in Ponyville has a farm to try and take?"

"Carrot Top does," Twilight pointed out.

He rolled his eyes in response. "Puh-lease, you just said 'best friend'. Carrot Top isn't your friend, hardly a best friend. She never even liked you anyway. She's been trying to avoid you ever since you accidentally fired a messed up magic spell into her garden."

"Wait, how did you-?!"

"Another explanation for another time, but I believe I was going to ask Flim or Flam something." He turned back to the buisness ponies, who had awkwardly been standing in front of them the whole time. "Now, I would like to ask if you can make things on specific requests from customers."

"Actually, yes we can," said Flim, his smile returning. "Do you want us to make anything for you?"

"You'll find our prices very reasonable," said Flam.

"Actually, I'd like to see the orders you have done for other customers. Do you have any files or blueprints?"

Flim nodded and walked over to the other side of the room, where a file cabinet stood, connected to a small motor and almost completely tied up with bundles of wires. He pressed a few buttons on the side of the cabinet with his hoof, and, using his magic, started the machine up. With a whir and a few buzzes, the drawer opened and a small section of papers were lifted up out of it by a mechanical arm.

Taking the papers in his magical grasp, the cream unicorn walked over to the detectives and laid the papers down on the table in front of them.

"Here they are. These papers contain information on what our customers asked us to make."

"Thank you," said Sherlock, and instantly began to pore over the papers, taking in any detail that proved to be important or useful.

John cleared his throat nervously. "Well, thank you very much for letting us in. Do you mind if we stay the night? We've been traveling for quite some time."

"Of course!" replied Flam. "If there's anything we're skilled in more than buisness, it's hospitality!" After saying this, he headed towards the back door. "Come on, Flim. Let's get back to our invention."

"Oh yes, we have to get back to that!" Flim started to trot towards his brother. They were nearly out the door when Flim poked his head in again. "If you want, you can have either water or tea from the kitchen, but don't make any food yet, okay?"

John nodded in response, and soon they were out. The army doctor looked over at Twilight, who looked the most annoyed she had ever been since Sherlock and John first met her. She poked the consulting detective on the shoulder.

"Look, if you don't have anything nice to deduce, don't deduce anything at all."

When she didn't get a response, she started tapping Sherlock's head repetitively.

"Hello? Hello?! Anyone in there?"

"Just forget it," groaned John, getting up from the couch, "he's not gonna be talking for a while. You wanna have some tea?"

"Yeah, okay." The purple unicorn got off the couch as well and started to head towards the kitchen with John. Half-way there, they were stopped by hearing some startling noises.

Specifically, the terrified, blood-curdling screams of Flim and Flam.

It was like if somebody flipped Sherlock's 'hyper-drive' button to On. The sociopath excitingly jumped out of the couch and joined his friends to galloping out the automatically-opening back door. They galloped to a large, red barn which looked partly mechanical like the cabin did. They stepped inside and were shocked at what they saw.

Flim and Flam were in the middle of the warehouse, screaming in utter pain as they were enveloped in the multi-colored aura that the three investigators were now well-acquainted with. They spasmed and writhed in agony as the green aura of their magic slowly started to be added to the multi-colored murdering aura. But that wasn't the only thing that shocked Sherlock, John, and Twilight.

The gears and machinery in the cluttered warehouse were starting to float magically out the window as well, adding burglary to the list of crimes that the murderer was doing. Then, some machinery parts came to life. Broken wires shooting electric sparks, hammers and saws wanting to pound and cut, blowtorches shooting too hot flames, and more were all being powered by murderous magic.

And they were heading straight towards our investigative trio.