The Adventures of the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well!

DOWNTOWN EQUESTRIA

Damnit it’s cold. If there was one thing that I never got acquainted with in the human world, it was the wild unpredictable nature of the weather. It never really dawned on me just how wild humans were. Back home, the Everfree Forests ecosystem and climate was the equivalent to this entire world. Nature was controlled by its own forces, and it sought to do whatever it desired. We were all just simple organisms living in its domain. Problem is, I had a hard time adjusting to not knowing what the weather was going to be like every day. Sure, the weatherman would give us a forecast, but it was all predictions. Granted, they were scientific predictions, but not always based off one hundred percent certainties. It sucked ass sometimes. As much as I love being in Downtown Canterlot on the rooftops, when it was cold nights like tonight, it wasn’t a very ideal place to be. The cloak provided me with some warmth, but I really need to find a material that’s well more insulated.

I stood perched on top of a flagpole that was anchored on the side of a building with the American flag flowing elegantly underneath me. Even through my mask and cloak that was wrapped over my body, my breath could be seen blowing into the air. The traffic had died down after a while, and soon the streets were empty, its solitude being broken by a passing taxi or a police cruiser. But I wasn’t here to sight see, I was here for the line of food trucks that were parked on the sidewalk underneath me, more specifically, I was here for one particular Indian food truck.

“Were you able to find it?” The voice of Red asked in my ear.

“Yeah, the Tasty Treat truck, I’m staring at it right now.”

“I’m surprised they were able to get a truck so quickly after their restaurant had burned down.”

“I’m not, the amount of donations they received was staggering. I’m just happy they found some way to keep their business alive.”

“Well, let’s hope that the brothers don’t try to extort this one.”

“I’m sure they’ll try,” I said, standing up slowly from the crouching position I was in. “But I won’t let them.” I hopped off the flagpole, and onto a nearby store sign, quickly hopping off of it and landing onto the sidewalk. Slowly, still sticking to the shadows, I walked over to the truck, letting the cloak drape over my body. Once I reached the back of the truck, I did something I haven’t ever done while wearing this suit, I knocked on the trucks back door. The commotion inside came to a quiet halt, followed by a string of low whispers before coming to a complete silence once again. No doubt I must’ve spooked the residents inside the vehicle, the firm knocking of your door in the middle of the night is not what I would call a comforting surprise. But those who are inside should consider themselves lucky...the Mare-Do-Well never announces its arrival.

After some more shuffling around, the knob turned and the door creaked opened ever so slowly, faintly teasing the light blue eyes of a beautiful lady from behind. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, but she didn’t close the door. As much as I wanted to believe it was because she felt no danger from me, it was most likely she was frozen in fear. The costume is already dark as shit, Celestia only knows how terrifying it looks in the dead of night. Red tells me that all she can see are the two bright blue eyes in the mist of blackness. The emotionless expression of the eyes, she says, is unnerving. I imagine the voice I do doesn’t help, and I wish I didn’t have to do it in front of this woman, but I have appearances to keep up. Still, I toned it back on the growl, trying to make the dead whisper as inviting as possible. The same way I did when I talked to Diamond Tiara, AJ, Applebloom and even Easy Glider.

“It’s okay Miss Masala, I’m mean you no harm. I’d like to discuss a certain issue that we both are having. An issue involving brothers.”

“What are you,” she asked, her voice shaking a bit.

“A silent presence here to watch over you. If you’d be willing to talk to me, I can assure you that this entire nightmare you and your father have been through will end with justice.” She looked behind her, staring at who I assume was her father, before looking at me again. After some hesitation, she opened the door all the way, stepping aside to give me some space to enter. The inside of the truck was quite spacious, and the lingering smell of Indian cuisines felt like warm hugs in my nostrils, I was really hoping my stomach wouldn’t growl on me right now. I haven’t eaten since the apple I ate yesterday. I don’t get hungry, but damn, whatever was cooked in here smelled really good. I guess Rarity and Pinkie were right. I stood in front of the door, refusing to enter any further. Although I was now in full display under the light, the cloak still covered my entire body, and the large brim of the fedora concealed most of my face. I must have still been a horrific sight to see, because the looks on Masala and Cumin were both mixtures of curiosity and fear. Cumin was sitting on a chair next to the front door that led to the truck's driver seat, while Masala stood beside him, holding his arm like a scared child taking cover behind her father. We kept our distances from each other, which was good. Although I was here to protect them, I didn’t need innocent people thinking I was some kind of angel sent from heaven, I still wanted to be perceived as an abomination from the pits of hell.

“I know the reason for the destruction of your previous place of business wasn’t an accidental fire. It was the Flim Flam brothers,” I said, deciding to not beat around the bushes. The father and daughter remained silent, still staring at me with that mixture of fear and curiosity. “I know they’ve been extorting you. They tricked you into going into an agreement with them, I assume by tampering with your food or equipment unbeknownst to you, and came into your lives with the false promises of a solution they conjured up to a problem they caused. Once you figured it out, they threw black mail at you, tracing back relatives all across the United States and even back to India. Is this correct?” Masala slowly nodded her head, not challenging or correcting any part of my claim, which I knew she wouldn’t. I was correct after all. “When you couldn’t meet their impossible to reach interest rates, they sent a man named Silver Shill to your restaurant and he destroyed it with a robot.” Once again, Masala nodded, her eyes watering as she held her father's arm tightly.

“Who are you?” Cumin asked, clearly unnerved at just how much I knew.

“Someone here to help. I’ve been conducting an investigation to see that the brothers and Mr. Shill are brought to justice.”

“You’re a vigilante...aren’t you,” Masala said, choosing to come out with the straightforward truth. I just looked at her, refusing to acknowledge her question.

“What I need to know is if you met them or have any clue on where they’re place of operations could be. I originally thought it was the old warehouse north of here outside the city next to Greenwood Rd, but their willingness to destroy the place and the lack of equipment in there leads me to believe otherwise.” Both Masala and Cumins face altered at this, looking more shocked than anything.

“The Greenwood Rd warehouse was destroyed?” Asked Masala, gripping her father's arm tightly as tears began to flow from her eyes.

“Yes, why? Is there...something...” I started to trail off as I looked down to Cumins arms. He was rubbing his wrist with his right hand, and I could see visible bruises around both wrists. The kind of bruises you’d get when you were bounded. After this, I began to notice more of his face, and the bruises on both of his eyes and cheeks became apparent. Masala was now crying, while her father held her hand tightly. After a while, the young woman calmed herself, sniffling a bit before looking back to me.

“We, we did business at that awful location. That was the last time we saw the brothers; we were signing contracts in the office upstairs. Afterwards, we were brought back in a couple of times when we couldn’t pay. At first it was just to show us all the information they had of our family...but afterwards they...they,” her voice began to break, and I could see the fear on her face form as she started to shake. Cumin shut his eyes; the anguish was clear on the man as he no doubt began to remember the torture they put him through. I raised a hand up from out of the cloak, signaling her to stop. I knew what she was trying to say, I saw the damned office myself.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to go into detail with that part, I know what happened. The brothers were never present after the first meeting with the documents, correct?” Masala recomposed herself before continuing.

“No, they were never there for any of the visits afterwards. It was all Mr. Shill from there.” That didn’t make any sense. I had a hard time believing Silver Shill was capable of torture, the scrawny son of a bitch. “We don’t know if there is another building or hiding spot though. After the restaurant was destroyed, we hadn’t heard from them. They threatened us with our family if we talked to the police, but since then it’s been silent on their end.... until yesterday,” explained Masala. She entered the truck's cab, shuffling around a bit in the glove compartment before returning with an envelope in her hand. When she handed it to me, I quickly opened it, reading the handwritten note. It was a threat demanding more income signed by the brothers. Damn ass hats. The nerve of them after what just happened at the warehouse. I guess they really don’t view me as any kind of threat...good. But what piqued my interest wasn’t the content of the note, it was your typical bad guy shit. No, what I was interested in was the paper and the envelope itself. It was a cream color, almost silk like texture. A very specific kind of paper, but one I recognized. Only one company used these types of letters, Super Squeezy Cider Productions.

SSCP was an old company that manufactured apple cider in the 20s, before the Apple family moved in. Eventually they went under and the facilities were abandoned. Canterlot has four abandoned factories, one in the city and three on the outskirts. It's still going to be difficult trying to find them in all four of those maze-like industrial jungles, but these dumbasses just narrowed the search for me.

“I just wanted to cook our family's food with my father...that’s all I wanted,” muttered Masala. She was wiping tears out of her eyes as she struggled to get the words out of her mouth. “We didn’t do anything wrong...I don’t know why these people are hurting us...why they hurt my father,” she said through tears. I retreated my hands with the envelope back into the shadowy confides inside my cloak, looking up at the weeping woman clutching her father.

“Because they’re insane Miss Masala...I promise you that this will be the last time they ever communicate with you. I’m going to crumble their entire operation, and the next time you see them, they’ll be wearing orange jumpsuits in front of a judge before spending the rest of their lives in Canterlot Penitentiary.” I turned around, ready to leave, satisfied with the new information I had. But the deep voice of Cumin spoke up.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Save it. Don’t ever thank me.”

“.... Before you go to face evil, there’s something else I must tell you. The man who beat me when I was tied up in a chair. We know who he is,” revealed Cumin. I turned my head around, slightly facing him.

“So, Shill wasn’t the one who tortured you.” Both Cumin and Masala shook their head. I had figured much.

“No, he just watched, tormenting me while my father was being beaten. The perpetrator was someone else. Please, let us tell you who,” said Masala.

ON THE ROOFTOP OF AN APARTMENT COMPLEX: DOWNTOWN

The Griffons. Damn Griffons. The most powerful biker gang in the country. The Griffon MC is known for their violent behavior and efficiency in organized crime. You need someone dead? Hit up the Griffons. You have a fresh supply of sex slaves you need exported across the country? Hit up the Griffons. You need basic hired thugs to carry out extortions, beatings or robberies? Hit up the Griffons. You need drugs smuggled across the border? Hit up the Griffons. The cartels especially love them. I’m still investigating the inner workings of their gang; it's just been difficult for me since they’re rarely ever this far north, let alone in the border state of Washington. They usually ride through the west, mid-west and south, trafficking things for the cartel from Mexico. But with them being here, I don’t like it. It could also mean more underlings for Sombra, and with the Diamond Dogs and Changeling gangs working on the Crystal drug ring, the last thing I needed was another group of jackasses added to the mix.

I stood over the edge of the apartment complex, watching stray cats skedaddle through the dark filthy alley fifteen stories below. I looked behind me, staring at the beaten man lying unconscious and bounded with one end of a chain wrapped around his legs, and the other end tied around a small and skinny turbine vent. He was a pretty large son of a bitch, with a long and thick beard, and a receding hairline. Piercings littered his face, and his leather biker vest and white tank top were splattered in his own blood. His name was Titan, an enforcer for the Griffon MC. It wasn’t hard to find him at a nearby bar, but getting him was a pain in the ass. I had my mask raised halfway up, pressing a napkin against my mouth as I tried to stop the bleeding from my busted lower lip.

“Jesus Christ Sunset, I can’t believe you just stormed into that bar like that,” scolded Red from the earpiece.

“Tell me about it, I didn’t know there were two more of those biker jackoffs in the shitter. Damn, they’re ruthless fighters. Not like the Changelings,” I said. Red took a sigh out of frustration.

“That one girl could have seriously killed you.”

“Crazy bitch with the chain around her fist? Yeah, she can throw a damn punch alright. I got to be honest, when she tackled me through the door, that almost took me out,” I said while trying to extend my body, feeling the tight pain around my ribs burn.

“What was her name? Grifa?”

“No, it was Gilda. I wish I could have apprehended her and the others for the cops, but I had to get the hell out of there with Titan before more bikers came, and this lardass wasn’t very easy to carry across the city,” I said. Red took another agitated sigh.

“Oh my God, whatever. So, what’s the plan now Zorro?”

“Well, I could spend all night running around the metroplex and barging into each factory trying to find these dipshits. But I don’t really want to do that. So instead, I'm going to give Mr. Sons of Anarchy here a taste of his own medicine, and beat the ever-loving shit out of him until his ass is in a coma. If he still doesn’t want to talk, then I’m throwing his ass over the balcony.” I could hear Red spit out whatever drink she was drinking.

“ARE YOU INSANE?” she shouted. Satisfied with the amount of blood I cleaned up from my lip, I threw the napkin over the roof, watching it slowly dance down into the black pit beneath me.

“Relax, there's an open dumpster beneath us with bags of rotten food. It won’t be like landing in a mountain of pillows, but it won’t kill him either,” I tried to justify.

“Uhm, excuse me, that could paralyze him still,” argued Red.

“I don’t give a damn. Asshole is still alive, that’s all that matters. In case you’ve forgotten, this piece of shit beat the shit out of an innocent old man in front of his daughter. So what if he’s confined to a wheelchair. Besides, he’ll be fine, I won’t miss the dumpster.” I could hear the man shuffle around behind me, his voice groggy as he slowly began to wake up. “Anyways, that’s his decision. I’ll get back to you, he’s waking up. Time to get into character,” I said while lowering my mask and switching my voice back. Once I heard Red stop talking, I stood up and walked over to the man, my fist clenched tightly as I felt the anger build in me. The same blood lust that I feel overtake my soul every time I engaged with scum like this.

“Huh? Where the fuck am I,” he mumbled through dazed speech. But his squinted eyes shot wide open when I came into his focus, and the fear and panic hit him like a bucket of cold water, splashing the dire reality of the situation in his face. He tried to move, but the rope that had his hands tied and the chain wrapped tightly around his legs prevented him from moving anywhere, so he squirmed like a filthy worm under my glare. “Get the fuck away from me you fucking freak,” he whimpered. I couldn’t help but grin from under my mask at the sight of him, the feeling of total power that I once desired came crawling back into the forefront of my mind. Deciding to not waste time with this, I knelt down onto his stomach before plunging my fist right at the center of his throat. He hacked and gagged in agony, desperately trying to raise his hands over his throat, but alas, his confined state prevented him from doing so. So, I began to hit, and hit and hit until his cries for help became nothing more than blood gurgling mutters.

“Oh my God,” I heard Red whisper, before the static of the earpiece went silent. I guess she couldn’t stomach this kind of shit. After about seven continuous punches, I stood up off of him and slammed my foot over his head, digging my boot heel against his cranium and against the hard floor.

“Two words, Flim Flam. Ring a bell?” I snarled. But he just whimpered, closing his eyes tightly as blood poured from his nostrils. I pressed harder, hearing his skull quietly begin to crack under the pressure. “Let's try that again, Flim Flam. You have two seconds to answer before I splatter your brains all over this rooftop.”

“FUCK! OKAY! OKAY! I was hired muscle for them, did some odd jobs. That’s it really, I swear to God.” I took my foot off his head and grabbed his leg, proceeding to drag his fatass across the rooftop.

“Wrong answer, tell me something I don’t know,” I growled.

“Wait, what the fuck are you doing? Oh God, let me go,” he begged. Once we got to the edge of the roof, I dropped his leg and grabbed the folds of his leather vest, picking him up and throwing him against the barrier. Without giving him any chance to talk, I headbutted him right in the temple before pushing him over the buildings edge. As his screams died down as he fell, the chain followed pursuit until it reached its full length, stopping as the tension tightened around the vent.

“OH GOD! HELP! GET ME DOWN FROM HERE! I DON’T WANNA FUCKING DIE MAN!” I watched as he dangled from the chain like a worm hooked as bait, screaming for dear life as the remaining twelve stories of darkness below was all that greeted him.

“TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT THE BROTHERS! WHERE ARE THEY?”

“FUCK MAN, I TOLD YOU, I JUST DID SOME JOBS FOR THEM. THEY PAID ME TO TORTURE SOME PEOPLE, BEAT THEM UP AND STRONG ARM THEM INTO SUBMISSION! I DON’T ASK FUCKING QUESTIONS; THAT’S NOT HOW THE GRIFFONS WORK.”

“I’M GOING TO KICK THE VENT IN AND SEND YOUR ASS TOPPILING DOWN, AND I SWEAR TO GOD WHEN THE POLICE FIND YOUR CORPSE, YOUR CRACKED OPEN SKULL WILL HAVE BEEN USED AS A KITTY LITTER BOX FOR THE STRAYS DOWN THERE IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME SOMETHING USEFUL!”

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, FUCK. THEY BUILD ROBOTS AND MAKE CHEMCIAL SHIT AT THE OLD CIDER PRODUCTION PLANT OFF OF MAIN STREET EAST OF HERE. YOU KNOW, THE ONE BY PEACHES FARM,” he finally cracked. That's all I needed to know. Without saying anything else, I turned around and walked off. “HEY, WAIT, ARE YOU STILL THERE? GET ME FUCKING DOWN FROM HERE YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKER!”

“With pleasure,” I mumbled. Before I reached the door to the rooftops exit, I stopped by the vent anchoring the chain, it was already bending from the weight. Without hesitating, I kicked the vent inward, causing the whole thing to snap, and sending the chains end racing towards the edge. Titans' screams filled the air as I heard his voice grow more distant as he descended, until the loud collision of his ass hitting the trash broke the screams. I waited there for a few seconds, listening intently to make sure he actually did land in the dumpster. After a few intense seconds, I smiled as I heard his groans of agony, followed by his enraged screams.

“AW FUCK, YOU DISLOCATED MY LEG! YOU’RE SO FUCKING DEAD FREAK! YOU FUCKING HEAR ME? DEAD! THE GRIFFON MC IS GONNA FUCKING FLAY YOUR ASS AND HANG YOU THROUGH YOUR FUCKING EYEBALLS! YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD MEAT MOTHERFUCKER! FUCK YOU.” Even from that far down, his voice carried like distant music to my ears. I walked through the door with the biggest smile on my face.

THE CIDER PLANT: EAST OF CANTERLOT

I should have figured as such. It would obviously be a Cider production plant; it offered all the necessary components for production of robots and it had a stellar lab for chemistry. After this is all over, I need to create a file on the brothers. I have a hunch it’s them creating this shit and not Shill, so I believe that they have a more colorful background then just simple con artist. As I walked through the outside of the mega facility, the static of the earpiece returned, letting me know that Red turned the headset back on.

“You okay,” I asked.

“Yeah...sorry, I just, that was intense back there,” said Red. I sighed as I hopped over a fence, entering the factories main premises.

“It’s okay. I understand. I’m sorry for putting you in an uncomfortable situation like that.”

“No, it’s not your fault...I guess it’s just to be expected in this line of work...you didn’t miss the dumpster, right?” I smiled as I began to climb a ladder to the roof on the side of the main building.

“Of course not, Titan is fine. Pissed. But fine.” Red gave out a long sigh, I guess that was weighing heavily on her conscious. “I told you Red, I don’t kill...but criminals don’t need to know that.”

“Yeah, I know. Never doubted you on that.” I could practically hear the smile on her face. When I got to the roof of the building, I crouched on the edge, surveying the layout of the plant. Another building was across from this one, and two tall industrial chimneys that haven’t blown smoke out in years were next to it. What really caught my eye though was what was directly below me sandwiched on the pathway in between the two main buildings...or rather who it was.

“The brothers are right outside. I see them,” I said.

“What? Just like that? What are they doing out there?”

“I don’t know, it looks like they’re waiting for someone.” As if on cue, the headlights of a vehicle shined from the distance, growing closer and closer, until it went past the front gate. Upon looking at it closely, it looked sort of familiar. “I see a vehicle. I think it’s a 1950s Chevy pickup truck. But...hey, I know that truck.” Once the vehicle came to a halt in front of the brothers, the headlights turned off and the driver side door opened. The person who stepped out of the vehicle nearly made my heart drop.

“Oh no...Applejack.”