A cool lake breeze gently tickled my side. I was laying on a bed of rough wood, sprinkled with sand that stuck to my cheek. Straight ahead off the boardwalk I passed out on was a lake with a small beach; still confused, I pushed myself up and sat on my ass, looking around wearily. The lake was wide and unfamiliar- Probably the largest I’ve ever seen that couldn’t be called a great lake. My hungover brain fired off neurons seeing the 1930’s dockside Beach Bar through blurry eyes, though my stomach protested my brain's want for a morning drink. Directly behind the boardwalk was a grassy hill dotted with trees leading to the main strip of some sort of amusement park; flanked on both sides with cheerily-decorated warehouse-like buildings that could host arcades, games, and food vendors, all the way until line of sight to the entrance is blocked by the kiosk at the central crossroad. Most of the buildings around there were constructed of fire-resistant gray concrete bricks, because much of the original park burned down in the 1900s; newer buildings were marked by the simple lack of this architecturally brutalist design, being more theme park-esque.

To my right was the road that cars used to get around the park with a small field for parking set behind that side’s row of arcades, the ungated park only requiring guests to buy tickets to ride the rides. I grinned, the fog in my mind being stirred by a wind rising in a slow crescendo.

Standing up slowly leaning my back against the rope-latticed wooden railing above the beach, I craned my head slowly to the left. There was a massive white-sided hotel, built next to the lake and embellished with trim around the windows and matching columns, both painted red; the columns which support the wooden pediment that covered the front-porch entrance, and widened out into a roofed and lattice-fenced deck, decorated with hanging potted plants and tables, supplementing the restaurant just a floor below with much-needed extra seating. And aside from the prominent rotunda to the direct left of the entrance, the roof held a shaded “gazebo” like structure that… I never actually got a closer look at. Dunno what’s up there.

“Hotel Conneaut.” I muttered the stylized logo made of red lettering, reminiscent of a more boring rendition of the Coke font. Named after the lake it was on- Conneaut Lake, Pennsylvania. The hotel, built long before I was born, was massive, of an elegance of an era I would only later learn to appreciate; The place was so big, it obscured all that was behind and around it. So big in fact, lightning struck the ballroom back in the ‘40s and killed some young bride; according the aged hotel clerk, who wouldn’t let me use their phone… or leave in any polite manner… until she told me the story of the area and made sure I could pronounce the name right before I left.

“Connie-Ought. Connieought. Conneaut.” I still don’t think that’s right, but the clerk insisted it was.

It all came back to me in a flood of nostalgic wonder. “Most beautiful place I’ve ever woken up in hungover.” And believe me- I’ve done that plenty of times before. “It was uhh… May tenth, ‘77.”

I remember that date exactly; my recollection of events starts on the eighth, two days prior. Grateful Dead was playing live all the way up in Ithaca, and my girlfriend and I drove aaalll the way out there in her dad’s clapped out old van that smelled like weed; a problem in which I contributed, being the Made Woman in her mid-20s that had enough cash on me to tip off any cop that dared pull us over. The Boss knew where I’d be until the next afternoon, so no chance of suspicion on that end.

In fact, there was some guy selling grilled cheeses on Shakedown- or, the unofficial parking lot vendors that often traveled with these bands; that’s where I learned to start putting garlic salt on grilled cheese. It was fun, the show was wonderful; We were already drunk on some homemade booze a guy was selling from the bed of an old ‘50s International pickup, kept awake by cocaine by the time Jerry hopped on stage… I’m pretty sure that somewhere along the line, we were slipped ‘ludes or percocets- percocets were new back then.

I remember the music up until the end- but the next day was just gone for me. Then I woke up here; what a mess this turned out to be. While the family at home was debating with whether or not I was secretly working with the feds or just dead in a ditch, doing who-knows-fuck all across western Pennsylvania. My Girlfriend got pinched out in Canton, Ohio by some local cops for… probably public indecency or intoxication… and the morning I woke up, so did she- her one phone call was to the boss.

She did what I told her and kept her mouth shut, letting our lawyer get her out of it; but in the end, the boss decided she was too much a potential risk. She was always overdramatic- so she probably threatened to rat on everyone to put on a show before the boss could get a word in edgewise… but that’s just my guess. On the way home taking buses to New York, I used the cash that was wired to me and scoped out some pawn shop along the line; The shadiest one I could find, walking through town while wearing clothes bought fresh from a Kroger. He was a fantastic gun dealer- sold me the gun and took the cash without question. I even threw in a tip for the guy.

The first thing I did was get to her apartment- I had a cabbie drop me off down the street and entered from the alleyway entrance to avoid getting seen. We relaxed, got drunk, and attempted to piece together what the fuck happened together on the couch over pizza from some local place, paid for by me; and of course, I made sure to hide when the Pizza guy came. We got really drunk, so she fell for my bullshit excuse that- I don’t want the boss to know I’m here yet. I wanted to visit you instead of reporting to him first.

At some point, we had The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson on the TV. She turned the volume down- started drunkenly rambling about… relationships. Marriage. In truth- I wasn’t that drunk. I was actually holding back on the booze, believe it or not. I had stuff to take care of after. I… think she was too drunk to notice me barely holding back tears; I walked around her slowly, standing behind the tacky floral-patterned couch; I always offered to buy her a new one, but she said it was an heirloom from her Grandmother- and I never understood the sentimentality if heirlooms… until these days. So, slipped on gloves quickly and began giving her a shoulder rub. Brand-new RCA television in color! Built into an amish-made wooden hutch, with a brand new Philips VCR in a cubby underneath.

She sighed, grinning widely and looking out of it because of the barbiturates I spiked her with.; She was kicking her feet and whistling Deal, by the Grateful Dead. One of the songs at that concert.

“I’m gonna turn the TV up, honey.” She barely paid any mind, whistling to the imaginary beat in her head with an adorable smile. I cranked it up to full volume- and by coincidence, it was a commercial from one of our best defense lawyers- and his commercials were cheap, loud and bombastic. He was driving an old World War II tank that roared furiously.

Before she could react… I broke up with Claire.

BANG!

I was back to the boardwalk with a gasp, standing in front of the park bench I’d rolled off in my public-sleep… a wind-up phonograph stood in front of me, a record already on the table; one of those goofy old-fashioned ones with the big brass horn for a speaker. The center label of the shiny disc was… curiously enough… the Yellow Sign.

I began to sweat; the world around me was dead silent. The sounds of lapping waves, lakeside birds, the gentle morning breeze, even the very clouds seemed frozen in the morning sky. I could see the phonograph in the middle of the boardwalk, backgrounded by the lake… where fog obscured all distant shores and horizons. It obscured past the kiosk, swallowing whole all the park’s other rides and attractions- including the large, sketchy wooden roller coaster in the front that the park was known for. Blue Streak, I think it was called… staring that way, I squinted- and heard… very quietly… the sound of an old wooden roller coaster… I took a deep breath, moving on.

The Hotel Conneaut already hid all manner of secrets behind its monolithic, uncannily ancient and out-of-place hotel. Somehow, I could feel an immense dread; as if this were no mere dream, I could feel its outer walls screaming at me silently. The ghosts of the past wanted desperately to share their stories, to just be heard. Sweating bullets, I glanced at the outer walls and windows of the Hotel’s rebuilt ballroom- the name Elizabeth came to mind. It's like they wanted… something to be heard- but they were confined to their walls. Their prison.

I gulped, feeling sweat running down my back and armpits as I gazed at the Phonograph. The needle was already in place- the disc had no instructions… not wanting to hear what dead people were trying to tell me, I put my left hand to the side of the player for stability, the other on the crank.

Ding!
I heard that noise as soon as I nudged the crank and flinched heavily, freezing like a bomb defuser hearing a firecracker down the street from a mission sight. My hair stuck to my forehead in annoying, wet strands, arms glistening like I just got out of the shower. I cranked it slowly, ticking like an egg timer and crescendoing slowly.

Clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick…

I had to mentally force myself to keep the crank going, the one-way ratcheting tensioner slowly changing, until it became deafeningly loud… Then at the halfway point, I realized what I was now hearing; I was unable to recognize the glacial, dreadful change like a frog, ignorant of the fact that she’s boiling alive.

CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK-
Rumbling, creaking, metal and wood clacking sounds…

I was now hearing the sounds of a rollercoaster rising up to the highest peak via a chain lift. I could hear the hydraulics of the motor as though it were below me, my stomach subconsciously preparing itself for a drop that… I hoped wouldn’t happen, for some reason. The crank kept going, louder and louder… until I’d gone a little over four-and-a-half cranks.

CLICKCLICKCLICKclickclickcliiiii-vvvFFFWOO- DING!

The sound of the rollercoaster cresting the hill ended in that obnoxious ding… returning the boardwalk to dead, isolating silence. The water was unnaturally still. No birds, animals, or even bugs made their home in this cursed place. A worm wouldn’t even live here-let alone another human. Wherever I was, I felt, I was merely a guest; this place was made for me, so I may not see more of Their home. The guest room in a house of insanity- though, where that description came from… I couldn’t quite remember. Thinking about it too hard results in headaches much like the ones I used to frequently have upon taking advantage of the Louse.

The hand crank had a knurled brass knob, indicating that to play the record… you had to give it a slight tug. I stood there frozen with my hand on the knob… snrk… It wasn’t funny at the time, but I was shaking. My anxiety felt like a colony of ants in my chest, while my mouth felt uncharacteristically dry for a dreamscape.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, turning my head to face away from the machine. Hand still firmly in the kno- dammit, I didn’t mean to write it like that; in that moment, dicks were the last thing on my mind- and that anxiety is returning, even as I write it. So forgive me for saying, I tugged the knob and felt my heart skip a beat.

Click!

Crackling, white noise…

(AUTHORS NOTE- Listen to this song beforehand for maximum immersion... if you want :3 It's Deal, by the Grateful Dead)

I heard the twang of a guitar- followed by the brief instrumental that established the groove of the song, paving the way for the live version of Deal exactly as I heard it, all the way back in Barton Hall.

‘Since you cooost a lot to win… and even more to lose!’

I let out the breath I forgot I was holding; never ever in either of my lives has Jerry Garcia’s sweet, sweet tenor voice sounded intoxicatingly relieving.

‘You and me ‘boutta spend some tIMe- wonderin’... what to choose!’

Hearing Garcia’s somewhat-flubbed highnote in the middle made me chuckle with a relieved smirk, and I planted my ass on the park bench behind me, spreading my arms and legs wide in an attempt to cool off.

‘Goes to shoow ya don’t ever know-’ This song’s fucking beautiful, and the lyrics are just… there’s some wisdom to be gained here; that’s what I’m trying to say. ‘Watch each card ya play and, play it slow!’

I flopped back onto the bench with a relieved laugh, just as… God, I think- Bob, Betty, and Jerry came together for the chorus. ‘Wait until that deeal come ‘round! Don’t you let that deeal go down, no, no!’

I didn’t give a shit- I was knocking on the wooden park bench happily, muttering the lyrics I knew under my breath… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little worn out from that… whatever the fuck that was. I gazed at the shore while Jerry was getting ready to move to the next part- Life returned to the world subtly, the waves and breeze being a welcome sensation, even if the far shores were still obscured by fog. I could even hear birds, though I couldn’t see them.

‘I been gamblin’ hereabouts… for ten good solid years.’ as I half-muttered the lyrics I couldn’t remember, crossing my ankles with a relaxed sigh. ‘If I told you, all that went down!- it would burn off… both your ears!’

“Fuckin’ said it there.” I spoke aloud for the first time since waking up in this… dream? If it can even be accurately labeled as such using whatever laws the Greater universe abides by.

‘Goes to show, you don’t ever know- watch each card you play and, play it slow!’ After this chorus was that few-minute jam session that brought tears to my eyes when I first heard it- something about the whimsicality of it is just… Has a tone of hopefulness in the face of uncertainty, in my eyes. Either way, that Jerry Garcia solo in the middle of the song is something special.

‘Wait until that deeal come ‘round- don’t you let that deeal go down, no n-CRACK!’

The sound of shattering glass startled me, arms and legs straightening to my sides; I held my hands near my center of mass, subconsciously ready to defend myself from… well, nothing.

‘Wait until that deeal come ‘round-’ Word for word, strum for strum of the guitar; ‘don’t you let that deeal go down, no n-CRACK!’ beat for beat of the drums- even the muffled cheering of the audience, repeating perfectly and reverberating in my eardrums.

‘Wait until that deeal come ‘round-’
“What the fuck do you want?” I yelled at the somewhat cloudy sky, trying to mask my rising fear; ‘don’t you let that deeal go down, no n-CRACK!’

‘Wait until that deeal come ‘round-’
“If you got somethin’ to say, then say it!” I stood up, clenching my fists at my sides and looking around nervously; ‘don’t you let that deeal go down, no n-CRACK!’ “WHAT!? WHAT DEAL!?” I was feeling angry… and scared, sweat once again dampening me all over. “SHOW YOURSELF!”

‘Wait until that deeal come ‘round-’
“WHAT!? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!” The music filled my ears no matter how hard I yelled, easily drowning my shouts out; ‘don’t you let that deeal go down, no n-CRACK!’

‘Wait until that deeal come ‘round-’
“WHAT IS IT WITH YOU THINGS AND CREEPY SUBLIMINAL MESSAGING!?” and simply; ‘don’t you let that deeal go down, no n-CRACK!’

‘Wait until that deeal come ‘round-’
“FUCK YOU, I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING!” I stomped and declared at the sky;
‘don’t you let tha…’ Quiet. Stillness.

Before I could even begin to feel terrified, I smelled… something. Faint, beneath the boardwalk. Mesmerizing- I bent over, getting a whiff closer to the planks beneath my shoes. The smell was… I wanted to say rotten, but how could a scent so inviting be described with such a hideous word? The only thing I can think to relate it to is the calm, inviting scent of… my mother. I can’t describe what that scent is exactly- it’s just… calming. As though all my senses were affirming her presence, loudly voicing their approval. Mamma’s here, you’re safe.

That unnatural, distant relationship to that same feeling made me trip-and-fall going down the stairs leading to the beach; I flapped my wings and glided to ease my descent, my mental state reflecting my physical state… that state, being the young, fit Leona. With four legs. It felt good- so good, I still almost faceplanted in the sand… it caught me off guard, as the grains of the sandy beach were more like immovable concrete.

Looking back, grass overgrown under the dirty boardwalk… and my nose led me directly to the source of the scent that attracted me so easily… Writing this diary entry, I genuinely can’t remember what He looked like. I draw a complete blank when I try to remember to write it down- and in retrospect, that’s likely by Divine Design… but there was one thing I did remember;

Whatever I saw made me feel distraught beyond measure. I felt disgust and anger at whatever sight was before me, holding back tears at the apparent tragedy. I approached it slowly and sat on my flanks before it, sniveling like a baby. The words he spoke enveloped my whole… being, somehow. I couldn’t respond- I could only listen to the voice. That smooth, rich voice that, when combined with the wonderfully rotten smell… calmed my sadness. I sat wordlessly, near breathlessly as he spoke to me. He wasn’t loud- but I felt hypnotized as his words filled my ears… even if some of those words are just… gone from my memory.

Though it is difficult, I can speak Antediluvian- But to you, that matters little… but, your words have merit. The reason I interrupted your dream of regrets, was to give a message; follow the obscure dream visions or not, I suggest that you… Don’t let the deal go down, as they say. You’ll know what it means when the time comes… And you feel that you’re owed more than that?

Before I was allowed the time to dwell at the time, he continued; but looking back… Dream of regrets? Do… I guess I… do regret what happened. Claire deserved better- but she’s long gone…

…Perhaps you’re right. It is rare for my ilk to sire spawn- let alone one so… fascinating. Violently creative. You seek pleasures most would shun while turning your nose in disgust at your degenerate peers; and you hide behind _____ _________ _______ ___ _____ _____ for different people, different situations; it’s quite fitting for the bastard daughter of ______. I know you wish to speak aloud, Leona. Don’t.

I swallowed nervously and nodded rapidly, hanging on to every word of… my father… even if much of the speech is… staticy in my memory.

I must commend you- the propagation of your realm is quite the awe-inspiring display of Decadence. ______________________ a part of your subject's very eyeballs through their burning reverence- singed just behind the cornea… Looking through all these lenses has been marvelous! Far better than that docile brain parasite I gifted you with. If you’re curious about why that- and I know you are, Leona- Her purpose was for me to look directly into your brain for the first time… and I realized I hit the jackpot on this soul.

As he went on… he reminded me of someone I knew. This old guy in the family who never settled down and married- he’d ramble on and on about stories of his youth, all while still being strong enough to kick someones teeth in… only, this is a story I’ll not soon forget… except the details I did forget, blanked out- again, probably by design.

Out of all the human souls I could have grabbed on the way to ______, I thread you through the void; a process where the window of opportunity comes… rarely, to say the least. Rare enough that you’ve managed to become friends with the only other living Outsider. Congratulations, on stumbling your way into figuring that out.

Are all dads this sarcastic? I’ve never really had one.

To put it as I tried to imply it- means that at some point in the future, you’ll have a choice to make. A “deal” so to speak. I don’t know which one is the most significant, but you’ll know it when you see it. Turn away, and don’t get greedy. Seemingly black and white choices have dire consequences; Just as I accompany you- others of my ilk would NOT be happy to lose that company.

I just looked down at him in silence, nodding dazedly.

Take my advice or allow Equus to turn into a ruin, torched by the awoken Mother Hydra, In a rage of grief caused by the total extinction of her people. But either way- I’m confident you would’ve taken the more cryptic dream into consideration. It is as I said- you’ll know it when you see it.

I couldn’t help but huff bemusedly at how bizarre the whole situation was.

That covers everything I don’t mind telling you. No other question you ask me will bear fruit.

After a few moments of staring each other in… presumably the eyes… I huffed.

“Lemme try. There’s one thing I wanna know, that’s it.” I asked him politely… kind of like a daughter speaking to her father.

Speak. Was all I got in the way of a command.

“When you were lookin’ for a woman to seduce, why Mamma? Of all the griffons in the old Confederacy, what made you decide to knock ‘er up?” The tension around me seemed to… thin out, somehow.

HHMMph… I guess that was a laugh…
Because in the short amount of time I visited Equus in the form of a Griffon avatar, I concluded that within the area I sampled…

He paused briefly, and I hung on with trepidation.

Your mother was the only one I felt could raise a child; flipping the coin, her legs were also the easiest to open. Young, bright, fertile, and emotionally vulnerable; she was a woman full of love, and I tricked her into loving me dearly. When you were born and I was gone, all that love went towards you.

The logic was… starting to make my head spin. It made sense, as you gotta get a baby in the womb somehow… but it still felt icky to me… but what he said next made me forget all that.

Only after a few dates, I knew Amelia would be a good mother- even if that was still a bit of a gamble. She’s kind and naive; the perfect environment for a child as uncontrollable as you. Most mothers would’ve left you on the doorstep of some Featherworth orphanage out of frustration.

I felt a chill go down my spine because deep down… I knew he was right. I felt tears well up-

But not Amelia. Take care of her- and proceed with caution.

I nodded sternly, looking him in the eyes.

She’s a great woman- among all the ones I’ve been with, she had the most… caring personality… And that is all you need to know- do not make assumptions to my motive as to this. Though I can’t let you remember my name- you know who I am. Look into your heart; we will meet again, someday. The stars won’t be this good for a while yet.

Do the right thing- after all, I haven’t been this entertained in millennia!

I was still smiling at the wholesome sentiment about my mother regardless of whatever the fuck that meant, before he abruptly added-

And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate your mother’s wide hips.

“WAIT, WHAT!?!?” I yelled as I shot up in bed, causing my wife to wake up abruptly, mid-snore. I wasn’t drenched in sweat like I thought I’d be- my mind was still reeling from whatever the fuck just transpired. My breathing was even- but my eyes were wide open in shock…

What the fuck. I think Jerry Garcia might be my dad! Or… Or Hastur. King in Yellow… but what the fuck did he look like?

Now I’m gonna have that song stuck in my head all day. Great- fucking… actually, nah. It’s a fuckin’ bangin’ tune.

The good thing about this rec room, is that it was about the size of the floor above us. For our small group, the open-floor rec room was… quite roomy; combined with the semi-loud music coming from the staticy overhead speakers, it afforded you a sort of privacy and discretion to those who needed it… so I’m not sure why Emmie wanted me to meet him in the shitter. Especially since the bathroom doors are visible and labeled against the side wall- so I’m not sure why he even bothered.

I decided to pass the time with Cadence, where we were just talking/bragging about our daughters to each other on one of the couches. ‘Flurry loves playing with Yo-yo’s? No kiddin! Annie’s nickname in school is Yoyo, ‘cuz she’s so good at it!’ and she’d say, ‘Hehyea! Gosh, that’s adorable! But I bet you that Flurry’d give her a run for her money!’

That sort of stuff- it was fun! Then the conversation pivoted briefly- “Oh, did I tell you- My wife’s expecting a unicorn filly in a couple months?” As soon as I said that, she smirked… deviously.

“Ohh, you sweet, summer child. If you thought raising a griffon was difficult, you’ve never dealt with a unicorn foal’s magic flare-ups. Forgive me for being blunt!” She giggled with a faint blush, abruptly clearing her throat and giving a casual smile while I cocked an eyebrow.

“Don’t forget- I spent a significant portion of my life in Equestria, and I like to read. I think I’m in-the-know of what to expect.” When her smirk turned into an almost… evil grin, I… felt a little concerned.

“Oh, don’t worry- it’s not as bad as popular culture makes it out to be… It’s worse… Well, depending on how powerful of a unicorn the father is.” She shrugged casually, and that didn’t make me feel any better. “It’s never a guarantee, but… well, genetics are genetics. The Thaumatologic knowledge behind how the genetics of magic work isn’t well understood.”

I just nodded casually, “It’s been a fun conversation- but I gotta have a chat with Emmie in private.” I said, letting myself off the couch while she giggled. “Family matters, of course. Nothing relating to this.” She waved me off-

“Nah, I getcha. Talk to ya’ later!” I nodded with a grin, heading to the mens room where I assumed Emmie would be waiting in… and he wasn’t. I found him in the ladie’s room, which was… a mirrored copy of the mens room.

Despite all the gingerbread, frilly curtains, pastel colors, use of light-tone colors and wood paneling, and overall Equestrian-Corporatist aesthetic of this Manehattan office tower… The bathrooms were quite regular; The were each comprised of spotless white tile walls and floors; a row of gray bathroom stalls, built well enough to not have any gaps between the doors and sporting Equestrian style toilets- Flush to the ground like a squat toilet, only the trough goes all the way back and about two feet up the wall, shaped like an L; and continuing the stalls were the row of squat-urinals, each separated with privacy dividers to (literally) cover your ass; and finally, the sinks had those stupid dual faucets, where one exclusively gives hot water, the other only giving cold.

“You waited in the ladie’s john?” I asked him as he peered my way from the sink he was leaning against casually. He just shrugged with a flat look.

“Ladies rooms are cleaner… and have the same type and amount of shitters. On top of that- you’re married to a woman and I am proudly gay. No one cares- I just needed privacy to speak.” He spoke evenly and flatly… and had a point.

I sighed, leaning against the wall with a shrug. “What d’ya hear, what d’ya say?”

“I was there the night of the recording.” He said with a smirk- and I just blinked.

“You were what?” I asked him, feeling my blood slowly coming to a boil.

“The private assisting Gallus had an application submitted for Griffonia in secret- I approved it, had him stealthily transported across the ocean, and used Masque spells to take his place.” I grit my beak while he nonchalantly pointed at his eyepatch- “Couldn’t change the eye, though; had to make up a story for that one.” He leaned in and whispered- “Some temple in the desert is currently short of a single mummy, and our guy’s small apartment burned down… with what the police presume is his body inside. Remains were cremated after I bribed the coroner. No case was ever made.” Zebra anatomy is so close to pony anatomy, that the police would be forgiven for mistaking a charred zebra corpse for a pony…

Since he was already leaned in, I took it upon myself to lean in and growl- “I didn’t order you to do that. Where the fuck did you get the balls- hell, how did you even FIND this chucklefuck on a short notice!?” I was fuming, in no way wanting to fuck things up tonight; I kept my glare up while he simply gave me a flat look.

He said to me, with no hint of irony… “A dream told me to.” I blinked, heart skipping a beat when he said that. “About… a week before the recording.” I… stepped back, feeling my heartbeat rising.

“I had a dream a week before the recording.” That made him smirk. I swallowed spit and leaned against the sink- “We’ll talk later. The only thing you need to know- is that I was given a warning by… my father.” I looked off to the side, tapping the sink anxiously while his eye shot open. “The only thing you need to know right now- at some point, I’m gonna be given a tough choice- perhaps tonight. He says I should refuse vehemently… and that it has something to do with the dragons.” I saw his grin widen-

“Tell me- please, I’d love to know!” He half begged, and I just groaned in annoyance.

“It’d burn off both ‘a your fuckin’ ears if I told you the whole thing here.” I said, giving him a playful punch to the shoulder. “Later. Any idea why a dream told you to commit spontaneous espionage under my beak?” I asked flatly, and he just snorted.

“Honestly? Perhaps specifically so we could have this conversation… But the one thing that stood out the most?” He asked, glancing at the door behind me and leaning in to whisper- “Twilight is devastated that Applejack was one of the ones detained… and if you didn’t notice? She was visibly upset when they took that vodka away. Food for thought.” He leaned back and shrugged. “They had a huge falling-out over it. Words exchanged, hooves thrown, tears shed- probably all drowned out by booze from that night all the way until today.” He giggled with a smirk.

Finally, I smiled and nodded, throwing a hand over his shoulder. “Ordered or not, it was executed beautifully; even more so since it was apparently last minute.” We shared a chuckle, and I leaned in close- “I’ll see if I can use that info, but regardless, we’re gonna come clean in the end. As a gesture of goodwill to Celestia. Is that all that was relevant?”

He simply shook his head. “Definitely. There was a point I made to Gallus in a casual conversation, and the beginning of the conference was drowned out by conversation in the barn we holed up in. You’ll hear it if they didn’t cut it out; if they didn’t, feel free to use it as a talking point.” I nodded, looking off to the side.

“Good…” I rubbed my temple… then smirked- “I have an idea- in regards to that Twilight thing.” Emmie opened his mouth to respond… when the door creaked open.

“Oh, hayy Thorax!” Emmie waved at him with a grin, and I looked back with a cocked eyebrow as he waved back.

“Hold on, now I’m confused. I thought this was the ladie's john?” Thorax just gave me a sheepish grin.

“W-well, I’m… I don’t feel like a stallion or a mare today- so I just defaulted to the mare’s room.” I nodded and shrugged-

“Ah, right. Fair enough.” Changelings. And some members of the other species- but it’s far more common among changelings…

Peering back curiously, his ass was just flat carapace… how the fuck does that work? What is this, a cartoon?
Creeeeak
The sound of retching from one of the stalls was muffled by the closing door. Right. Not a cartoon.

… I might have called Thorax king earlier- I hope I didn’t offend him… them.

That aside, I noticed that Twilight was having a chat with Cadence, evidently having taken my place. “Oh, hey, Cadence!” I greeted, and Cadence turned to me with a polite smile while Twi stayed neutral-faced. “You two got a sec? I’ll be quick, I promise!” Cadence nodded while I leaned against the backs of one of the couches near me.

“Go ahead, go ahead! We were just talking about dinner anyway!” I nodded and smirked… while Twilight just stared at me blankly, averting eye contact when I looked her way.

“Twilight! I just wanted to say-” Her averted gaze shot straight to me, and I gave her a casual smile- “I’m sorry if that thing with the vodka was rude. I wasn’t judging you for drinking; it just… makes my skin crawl when it’s around.” I shuddered involuntarily… because it was the truth. Every time I walk past the booze at the gas station, I can’t help but feel a tightness in my chest. Butterflies.

After a few moments, she blinked twice and shook her head. “O-Oh! Right, that… it was no big deal.” She stammered- using her hooves to straighten her already-straight bowtie… and near-inconspicuously patting her purple suit's left inside breast pocket. “I shouldn’t be drinking during state functions, anyway…” she looked off to the side, tone almost sounding… wishy-washy, in a sorts.

I couldn’t help but snort and giggle- “Girl, listen; I do not blame you for wanting a drink now and then to smooth your nerves.” Her eyes widened, finally showing a smile as she likely thought about having a drink. “It’s stressful, my fuck!” Cadence giggled and added-

“I know, right! Gosh, ever since the Crystal ponies began acting unruly, it’s just been constant nonsense!” I chuckled, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her ignorance.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t smoke a couple hash joints on the flight over.” I smirked, while Cadences eyes shot open.

“You’re telling me… that you’ve been on marijuana this whole time?” she glared at me, and I had to hold on to the couch to keep from falling over laughing.

“Oh, don’t be a prude! You didn’t know until I told ya’!” I was laughing as I spoke, and she looked off to the side sheepishly. “No father goes home after a long day of work, smokes a joint, and beats his wife; but switch the joint for a fifth of freezer-chilled vodka, and you start to notice how harmless weed is in comparison.” They both looked at me curiously yet skeptically, so I continued- “Why would the booze and tobacco industries want to have a third competitor in their realm of vice commodity?”

While they thought about it, I scooted an ottoman over to sit on… Er… I guess it's just called a footrest in this world. “And all the doctors, professors, ‘professionals’- Perhaps it would be wise to check who might be supplying them with… extra revenue. I’m sure the numbers would ring immediate alarm bells.” While Twilight rubbed her temple slowly, Cadence still had that… judgemental look.

“Twilight, come on- I know you’ve bought that good green off Zecora before. Remember that time we bumped into each other buying at the same time; I promised I wouldn’t tell anypony if you didn’t tell my mother.” Cadence's head shot over to Twilight, who averted her gaze shyly- “But hey- don’t take it from me. Ask any EMT if they’ve ever been forced to revive someone from a weed overdose; or even ask any trusted coroner if they’ve ever found evidence that a weed overdose was possible! But I’ll save you the bullshit and give you the answer- no. No attempt to induce a marijuana overdose in pigs resulted in… well, pigs that get more and more stoned until they pass out for bed.” Cadence blinked multiple times, looking downward at the floor. The reason pigs were used was because testing on pigs is analogous to testing with chimpanzees; but I’m sure she knew that.

I scooted my seat in and tapped my skull with a grin- “Public service agents are your eyes and ears on the ground. There is no better way to listen to the true heartbeat of public opinion, than by asking regular members of the public which are already under public payroll… But as for that other thing?” I patted Candace on the shoulder with a grin- “Ask Twilight about her experiences with it. Keep an open mind- I’ve talked to plenty of public workers who were stoners outside of work; none of them are at risk of destroying their lives.” I finished off with a wide grin, turning and pointing at Twilight-

“I’m not trying to shame you. I’m not trying to tear you down, and I’m not trying to tell you what to do. This isn’t even just about the weed; Government is complex- and what works for me might not work for you. But I suggest listening to the people as a start. Judgment free, no risk of treason charges or internment. Consider their thoughts, consider their ideas on how the world should be run.” Twilight looked up, the two of us locking eyes with each other. “But, hey- who am I?” I asked, standing up slowly while her gaze remained… distant. “Talk to ya’s in a bit!” I waved as the two looked at each other slowly, both hopefully thinking about what I said.

I walked away with a smirk, knowing that with any luck… Twilight’ll be hounding for a drink soon. I’ve been in her shoes before- and I’d fall for all the same little things I did; by implying that it was “fine” to have a drink or smoke a joint during business, and her subconscious will likely agree… and it’ll repeat the idea… This is all based on a gamble… but I was feelin’ lucky- because odds are, she’s going through the same motions I did, just built around her life.

“Mind if I take a seat?” I asked Celly as I approached her, reading calmly on one of the couches; she closed the book with a smirk, scooting over to give me room on the cushion.

“Not at all, not at all.” I hopped on the couch and got comfy, grinning when I realized the side table had an ashtray. “Tell me- have you been making friends?” I was pulling a cigarette out of the pack, the my hands stopping halfway through lifting the smoke to my beak. I just shrugged.

“There was a… brief misunderstanding between Cadence and I, but things have been going… well enough… Eh, they’ll come around. We’re all under a lot of stress here.” Celestia nodded in agreement. “I just want the bullshit to end. Why are we fighting? We could learn so much from each other, you know?” Celestia chuckled gently.

“I think it’ll work out with some intervention. All ideas are worth taking into consideration at this point.” I nodded with a grin… “It’s regretful, our first time meeting face-to-face in friendship is in a situation so dire… Nevertheless- Your brutal honesty and frankness seem to be getting the point across; I could tell, Twilight was thinking deeply. But besides that- It’s nice to see you again.”

I smirked, throwing a wing around her back. “I see you as an equal, Celestia. No matter what… you’re just another woman. A friend. It’d be a disservice to be dishonest to you- because you’ve been nothing but honest with me...” I peered up to see her grin softly. “I wanted to tell you that… there’s… an observation that Emmie and I made that you might want to be aware of. About Twilight.” I cocked an eyebrow and peered up, noticing that she was glancing at Twilight.

“My beloved student… Twilight is… like the daughter I never had.” I suppose it’s not worth mentioning the forgotten bastard child. “Brilliant. Principled. Strong. She’s not incompetent- merely, she’s been misguided in my absence… not saying she was perfect before, but who is?” I quickly shook my head-

“No, no, I agree entirely. The Twilight I remembered around town growing up was intelligent and always well-meaning… even if a little…” At a loss for words, I sighed and murmured, “I dunno, maybe she just needed to get laid more often. High strung?” I just shrugged while Celestia snorted and giggled.

“Nevermind the fact that she’s an aromantic asexual- Sure, let’s go with that.” After a few moments, our giggling quieted down. “Tell me- what do you see that I don’t see?” She asked quietly, and I just gazed off to the side, keeping Twilight in my peripherals.

“When we were having the appetizers, you wouldn’t have seen it- but Twilight looked real unhappy when they took the booze away. Glared at me for a moment, even.” Celestia tilted her head, peering over at the couch Twi and Candace sat at- right next to the bathrooms. “Take a look- she keeps glancing over at the bathrooms, waiting for Thorax to finish up in the ladie’s room.”

I waited in silence, and she spoke up silently- “Those aren’t single use bathrooms.” I simply nodded.

“Emmie and I needed a private word earlier- asked me to meet him in the bathroom- told me to wait ten minutes, probably so he could look for bugs or funny lookin’ wires. I’m sure you all saw me peer in the men's room before trying the ladie’s room.” I glanced up, and she nodded slowly. I shrugged.

“So if she had to use the can that badly, why wouldn’t she just use the other one? What’s she so paranoid about that she wants the whole bathroom for privacy?” After a few moments of silence, I said- “But you know her better than I do. Is that normal behavior for her?”

Celestia drew in a deep breath and sighed. “And you suspect this… relates to alcohol, somehow?” She asked quizzically as Thorax finally left the bathroom, taking a seat next to Emmie on a different couch. I tapped her thigh to get her to take a look-

“There she goes.” barely even ten seconds and Twilight was excusing herself to the bathroom. “You watch- she’ll act… different when she walks out of there.” She looked down at me with a huff-

“Hold on, this is a lot we’re assuming here.” Which was a fair point. I just shrugged.

“Maybe. But Emmie’s mother was an alcoholic, and I used to be an alcoholic. These patterns look… familiar to both of us. I used to carry a flask around in my coat when I was younger, excusing myself to the bathroom to take a swig. It’s the oldest trick in the book.” I patted her back gently, “I’m being serious- keep an eye on her. Watch what she does.” After looking around the room in thought, I tried to put myself in the mind of someone who just had a nice drink; and in her shoes, I’d be worried about other ponies sniffing alcohol on my breath. “If she heads straight to the coffee counter, it might mean that she’s trying to mask the smell of booze on her breath with coffee. Been there, done that.” I said frankly while she gazed at the bathroom door.

She took in a deep breath. “I know you would not mislead me on purpose. Thank you for bringing it to my attention- I genuinely appreciate that.” She looked down with a gentle smile, just as I heard the bathroom door open; Twilight stood there in shock for a few seconds, seeing her mentor wrap a wing around my back.

She averted her gaze, telling Cadence something and not even daring to look our way… on the way to the coffee station. Celestia huffed.

“Anything else you’d like to tell me… in the name of honesty?” She asked, probably resolving to deal with that problem later. I paused- looking over at Emmie, who was having a conversation with Thorax.

“About that recording…”

Mind’s Eye watched bemusedly at the scene in front of the large mansion in the apple forest. Police wagons were lined up down the scenic alleyway of oak trees, providing shade during the daytime… and making the path incredibly dark at night. Police lights on the wagons lit up the scene of the house.

The white paint and marbles of the decadent, pillar and porch-girt mansion glowed red from all the blinking lights; many of the richest and most influential ponies in Equestria were being handcuffed, caught utterly with their pants down discussing an awful conspiracy. There’s no getting around that fact- and because of their misplaced sense of security, they fell for the trap. The rich ponies all left their cars parked in a nearby field, making their location… obvious.

From where he stood guard, he could see Twilight and Applejack out of the corner of his one good eye; both wore pinstripe suits, but one of them had her hooves shackled, flanked by guards while the other sat across from her.

“I trusted you, Appl… Jackie. Just… Not you… Not you too!” She sniffled and stomped, and Applejack huffed.

“You’re making a big mistake. Equestria’s supply of fruit depends on me- and I never lied to get this point- Ah just lern’t it best to jus’ keep mah mouth shut.” Her southern drawl bled into her corporate-received accent. “Can you blame me? Do you think I wanted the Apple’s to stay in poverty forever? For Applebloom to die, old and decrepit like Grannie or… or even me for lans’sakes! I can’t do these cuffs- they’re no good for my hips.” She tried to spread her front and back hooves, the cuffs forcing her to shuffle-walk.

“... Goodbye, Applejack.” Twilight muttered darkly, trying to turn and leave when Applejack spoke up again-

“C’mon, Twi! After all we’ve been through!” She shuffled forward, falling on her face into the dirt. “OOfh! I’m suing for this, you mark my words!” She yelled as she flopped, trying to get up. Twilight stopped, turning around slowly.

She wordlessly helped Applejack up; Applejack gulped as Twilight looked her in the eyes, dusting off her old friend’s shoulder for her. “So why should the supply stop? I’m gonna tell you exactly what you’ll all soon be told. It’s more of an offer, really.” Applejack blinked, glaring at her old friend. “Cooperate, or your company gets broken apart and sold off. Take your pick.” Twilight scowled at the now-pale Applejack.

“Le-lets not do anything hasty now. I can play ball… Princess.” Applejack gave Twilight a smug grin- “But I’d be careful if I were you; people like me, we got friends- friends you don’t know about. I wouldn’t do anything, but-”

“Oh, I know. That’s where your cooperation comes in.” Twilight smirked, but took no joy in watching Applejack's grin fall. “Sign the paper when they slide it to you or else. No games, no chicanery.” As Twilight turned around, Emmie couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face when he heard Applejack snort.

“Nopony threatens Jackie Apple. You and what army?” Twilight huffed- deep down, Applejack still had that burning rage of a peasant within her; the subconscious disdain for those who were born into luxury never left, even when she found success. Twilight looked back and saw nothing but disgust in Applejacks face, she approached slowly. “If you’re gonna threaten me, do it to my face!”

Twilight nodded, pursing her lips. “Congratulations, Applejack. You finally did it.” While Applejack was looking up into Princess Twilight’s blazing eyes, she barely saw the movement of Twilight's right-hook.

THWACK!

Author's Note

On the off-chance anyone who ever saw the real Conneaut Lake Park in the late 70’s reads this fanfic, forgive me for any inaccuracies :3

I am going off the stories of my parents and grandparents, as well as my own personal internet research and my experience of being there to paint broad strokes representing a particular snapshot in time. It's a park that was loved by me, my mother, my grandparents, and I think by their parents… and permanently shut down within my lifetime.

Then again- that’s the rust belt. The Beach Bar burned down when I was a teenager, and the place was already a financial floppin’ fish; but hearing my pappy talking about how all those empty fields were onced paved parking lots, and having him show me the remains of some of the shuttles that operated decaying along with the community around the park is… something that stuck with me.

Now, most of it’s gone. The hotel still stands- but the majority of the park was torn down. The campground across from it my grandparents and I stayed at is gated off for rich people. And the lakeshore is owned by people only interested in the type of property development that only serves one group; the rich. Massive homes with obscene amounts of rooms line the shores of Conneaut, blocking the local stagnant community from the lake they used to enjoy as a given. In some areas, shitty, run down houses are separated from these mansions only by a fence and a treeline.

Why am I telling you all this? It’s because Conneaut isn’t just some throwaway place in Leona’s story; it’s a real place that, no matter how much it comes to ruin, will always be a real place in my heart. And now it’s in this silly fanfiction :p

But you may be asking; who is this great enemy who destroyed something I loved so much?

Fire. Jesus fuck so many fires. Literally, just shitty fire safety codes are what caused the slow, dramatic downfall of that park; and in fact, I did a little research, and I’m fairly confident no one died in that hotel fire in the ‘40s, much less a bride named Elizabeth. I found a newspaper from the era that mentions nothing about casualties- and reveals that the fire took place… before operating season… so why would anyone be staying there?

There may not be any ghosts… but with how empty and deserted this place is nowadays, especially with the massive hotel? It’s haunted, alright; haunted by the memory of those who know what it once was… and that sadness brings far more chills to my spine than a ghost would.

Enough rambling and trivia! Thanks so much to all my readers; you’re all hella cool :3
I also have a discord server :3

"When I forget what I'm doing or why I'm doing it, I play for my life." -Jerry Garcia