Tax The Bic

by Fireflower

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Crossover, Alternate Universe, Human, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Pinkie Pie, Profanity, Random
Length: 1210

A simple challenge for the sake of a contest: a prize to be claim if possible; a brief experiment in media res so to speak of. Failing that, a short story with low expectations and higher inquiries based on its contents in question nevertheless...

March is, was, and, if possible, will continue to be the beginning of the end for the winter season, at least in a more normal world as is; but, what many don't understand is that it's also the start for people to take their income records seriously at least in the west: America, by and large, is especially known for its reputable yet infamous of methods through obtaining revenue, to the point of causing controversy.

Enter Deirdre Beaubeirdre, a woman whose face and occupation is a sign of having seen better days, at least as far as she was concerned; even now, she couldn't stand to see how much and how many people would come in to peddle their wares, irregardless of the veracities: all that mattered to her was to survive the workday and to do so, everything would've to go in order for both her and the clientele too.

In this case, she meets Elliot Alderson, a high ranking member of GolfCorp whom has moved out of New York City in search of a new life: along with him, albeit unseen, his wife, their dog, a new subsidiary, and, in his grasp, a surplus of toys, mostly straight out of Generation 4; needless to say, resale value ain't got nothing on whatever taxes are to be inflicted come the ides of March, a date which Rome lived in infamy.

An entry for the A Thousand Words Contest III in the Experimental category.

Published 2024-07-15 00:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-07-15 00:10:00 UTC

Fortnight Before Ides

Author's Note

My name is Fireflower and this is my fifteenth My Little Pony Fanfic, using a normal canon character that is rated T for Teen; therefore, it is no clopfic whatsoever but it is my fourteenth flashfic on this website: matter of fact, it took me about less than a day total to make this because it was meant to be part of a contest y'all know of so to speak.

Anyways, I just want to state for the record My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic along with its setting and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro: of course, you'd already know about it since you'd been reading my stories for a long time so to speak of; speaking of which, this story's influenced by an award–winning film from 2022 hence the cover.

Enjoy it while you can 'cause I had to beef it up for the sake of the word count: seeing that it's there now, it was inevitable to come up with something to fill up a void in my mind all the same; in addition, Elliot Alderson will make an appearance in this one so he belongs to Sam Esmail, but Rami Malek belongs to himself.

Fortnight Before Ides

The cold air was blowing within the finite space all around, thanks to a series of ventilation shafts and ceiling fans together: this was enough to keep most liquids drinkable to the tongue and skin as far as any consumer was concerned so to speak of; still, there was the matter of all the heat that found its way in, not only from the outside world as it was known but also from within.

As a matter of fact, the source of thermal energy in question was from a woman in brightly colored clothes reminiscent of sun; although she was hardly celestial in any shape or form whatsoever, her proximity to the ground was firm enough as it is anyways: even the white hair she wore was proof of her age, especially with the heavy duty frame around her darkened eyes.

Opposite of her was none other than a man wearing a hoodie straight out from the world of midnight, trapped with a vengeance; having said that, he never saw her as a target, much less anyone else for that matter, especially since he’d sat down in a chair as is: all that he could provide were a series of toys, each of them of an equine figuration nearby a plastic bag no less.

“Mr. Alderson, are you with me…?” the woman had asked him almost instantaneously in due time.

It didn’t even take much for the latter to reply, “yes, madam, of course, I’m here, much like everyone else…”

“Oh, okay, well, I should think you’d be considering yourself thankful that you’d shown up early today and on the first of March…” she’d spoken to him more freely, pulling out a pair of tongs afore him so as to catch one of the toys in question all the while, “if anything, most people usually wait until the ides to get their affairs in order, especially since we’ve barely started…”

“Agreed and most don’t have all the money in the world to pay even if they wanted to; needless to say, miss Deirdre, it’s not meant to be taken as a joke nor an insult for that matter anyways…” Alderson said to the titular tenant as a pink pony was placed back into the translucent terrain gently nonetheless.

Either way, she’d wasted no time saying her piece after it was out of both their eyesights so to speak, “auctions these days required a lot of planning and concerning the materials in question, you may as well need a separate form for each of these transactions in advance; the fees can be quite nasty even in this day and age like that of computers…”

“Indeed, no one told me that GolfCorp would end up being my destiny after my goals were fulfilled in their entirety as is…” he’d said to Deirdre softly, his hands slowly scooping the rest of the equines back into the bag without so much a sound all the same, “I honestly wish that my father were here to see this; of course, we don’t talk about him freely, not since childhood…”

“Look, I’m sure you have a lot on your mind but I cannot imagine anything mattering more than the conversation we are now having concerning your liabilities hither and yon nonetheless…” the sunny woman heaved as she was rifling through the papers scattered about the desk between them both all the same.

It didn’t take much for Alderson to cough out anyways as far as either of them were concerned, “of course…”

“Do you see these…?” she’d said to the man in midnight, turning around to show him her miniscule trophies rather briefly so to speak of, “you don’t get one of these unless you’ve seen a lot of bullshit, excuse my French; now you may only see a pile of boring forms and numbers but I see a story with no receipts: I’d still trace the ups and downs of your life and it’s looking good. Either way, I’d recommend filing insurance policies on the items you wish to sell online as a precautionary measure no less: with all these scam websites, you may as well be swimming in the darknet, though I highly wouldn’t recommend it at all; the world has already heard enough Craigslist killers one too many and it’d be a shame if you’d ended up as one of their victims…”

“With respect, you don’t need to remind me; it’s like what you’d said – my life is looking good: I have a wife, a career, a dog, and a baby on the way…” he’d said simply as Deirdre had started to pull out a small plastic bottle and began to open it afore him slowly but surely in due time.

After taking a swig from there, the sunny woman gulped, “in any case, you can go for now: you will have another fortnight at 6:00pm to bring everything in; hopefully by then, all your little ponies will be able to find good homes to anyone whom likes them enough not to let them be forgotten as time did…”

“Rest assured, these My Little Pony toys won't be left about in vain: with GolfCorp behind me, we could actually swoop into making betterment…” Alderson had replied as he’d gotten up from his seat slowly, taking with him the abundance of items from not too long ago as is, “these brothers may as well be turning in their graves had they known what their legacy has become today…”

“Legacy, what good is any of that if one can’t make use of it in their entirety…?” another feminine voice spoke but it didn’t belong to the likes of her, at least as far as the two were concerned; nevertheless, it was all for nothing so to speak of, especially since neither individual could pick up on any of the words chosen wisely and otherwise.

Needless to say, the cold equations were nothing more than a burning memory with heartaches stripped of words by and large.