My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Welcome to The Jungle
In the world of Mobius, in the country of Equestria, kingdoms have been erected from North to South, from East to West. The Crystal Kingdom to the North. The beautiful Canterlot to the West. The fabled Changeling Kingdom in the Far East. And the illustrious Griffon Kingdom in the South. All have their own stories. This is one such story. Of a jungle of brick and crystal glass, of giant stone structures and beautiful statues, of finely-woven tapestries and majestic coliseums…but a deadly beast lurks within the kingdom, rotting it inside out, poisoning its people…unless somebody does something.
Soon.
And one group of ponies is going to end up doing just that…
It all started with a trip. A trip one Rainbow Dash took to see an old friend…
This is that story.
“This is…oh, geez. Oh geez. Oh dear Celestia…”
“Calm down. Deep breaths.”
“I’ve-I’ve never seen anything like this.”
The wind slowly blew through the hair and fur of the inhabitants of the city of Clawdor, Capital of the Griffon Kingdom, a world composed of illustrious stone statues and beams, with windows of crystal and dark-tinted glass, all combining to create a seemingly picturesque, Greco-Roman city. But the picture that was painted before Rainbow Dash was a most unpleasant one. She’d arrived to visit a very beloved old friend from the magnificent Wonderbolt Academy, the current Empress of the Griffons…and instead of a nice lunch visit and a tour of the city, she’d almost tripped over a dead body in an alley off 8th and Main.
The smell had struck her immediately, hard and fast, hitting her nostrils like a freight train as she struggled not to vomit up her lunch. Luckily, she’d made the call to the two people she knew could handle this.
“It would have been outside my jurisdiction because Clawdor’s not Ponyville…but Celestia’s talked with Gilda. She says you’re all welcome to use their crime lab.” Sheriff Applejack insisted heartily, tilting her light brown cowboy hat down slightly at the young woman before her, who nodded her own head, pink-tinted black locks flopping a bit as Haley Long turned to look down at the body, kneeling by the sunset-coated stallion that was examining the corpse. She turned her head to look at him, purplish eyes into blue before speaking.
“Well?”
“Stab wound to the chest. 3 inches deep. Two to five hours old according to how rigid his body is and the liver temperature.” Shinedown insisted as his young Changeling partner held up a small body thermometer they’d just freshly pulled out of the corpse. Shinedown blinked, taking notice of a part of his arm, frowning slightly, for it appeared to have a shard of whitish/blue upon it. “Oh. Looks like I missed a spot-ah, wait, there it is.” He chuckled, the spot filling in. “Such is the handiness of magic paint.” He told Haley as he shook himself a bit, standing up tall in the sunlight of Clawdor as his blue, slightly Mohawked hair flopped about.
“Any sign of the murder weapon?” Haley wanted to know.
“Not a one. The poor colt hasn’t got any wallet or ID. Furthermore, we’ve got a blood trail that indicates he was dragged from the street into this pizza joiny’s back alley. Caesar Secretariat is never going to see any business again if he doesn’t spin this around somehow in an “infamous” way.” Shinedown added.
“Why do you suppose somebody woulda done this? He’s just a teenager. Young enough to be in the Wonderbolt Academy, I reckon.” Sheriff Applejack wished to know as Shinedown frowned and rubbed his chin.
“Maybe he just came to the pizza parlor for a slice.” Squirt the Changeling suggested. “…and it looks like he got one.”
“I know y’all are already gonna question Rainbow Dash.” Applejack added, nodding her head as she turned her head to the right, Rainbow Dash resting on top of the chariot that Haley had used to fly up along with Squirt and Shinedown, a pale-skinned raven-haired human with oddly yellow eyes speaking gently to her with a soft, almost whispery tone. “Poor Dash. She ain’t never seen nothing like that, I reckon.”
“It was just…so much blood.” Rainbow Dash told Shin as Mr. Dell nodded, listening intently, writing down notes on a notepad, Rainbow Dash trying not to notice his very odd, mercury-like smell. “I…it just kills me how much crime has come to Equestria. I’m not saying it’s their fault, but-”
“But what?” Shin wished to know. “You may feel free to tell me. I am only here to assist you.”
“The planet Mobius is big. I know. And lots of furries have moved here to Equestria to find new homes, but…they’re…they got different rules than we do. And they…I don’t exactly trust them. I mean, I know a few who did some mugging lately.”
“Mugging?...” Shin raised an eyebrow up. “Tell me more.”
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… “So we’ve got the names of these muggers?” Haley Long wanted to know, scratching at a peanut butter and jelly stain on the pink, bellybutton-exposing t-shirt she wore. It had been so sunny and warm outside that she didn’t even need the usual flannel-lined jeans she had, she could put on the nice white khakis she’d been meaning to try on…and of course she’d gotten lunch all over them as she and her small team sat together at noon to discuss the case and how it was progressing.
“One of them’s locked up already. The other’s still at large. But the victim talked to me.” Shin said with a cheery smile, Squirt shuddering slightly as he shook his head back and forth, holding it in his hooves, the changeling-blooded young foal shivering.
“I will NEVER get used to you doing that thing you do to corpses.” He insisted to Mr. Dell.
“It proved I didn’t kill that man. It’s put many a criminal behind bars. Believe me, it may be disturbing and unpleasant to look upon, but it is a tool of the light, though I myself walk a dark path.” Shin insisted.
“A self-imposed one. You ditched us to hang with the Dark Dragon-” Haley began before Shin gave her an angry glare. “What?!”
“He was the only one who could help me perfect the technique. I was able to get in touch with my full potential because of him. I mean, I can’t go to my family, you know that. They are all gone from this world.”
“I know, but..still…” Haley murmured. “…I mean…he’s not exactly trustworthy, even if he hasn’t tried anything for the past year. I just worry that the shoe is gonna drop any day now.”
“Speaking of shoes, our victim was a size 5 hoof. And he was killed with a five inch blade.” Shin said, waving his butter knife in the air as he slathered a roll with margarine. “It was curved. Very sharp. And his name was Hatchet T. Horse. He protested every Grand Galloping Gala, him and his friends.”
Shinedown looked amused as he held his hooves together, chuckling a bit. “Really? Why?”
“Said it represented a huge income inequality. That most ponies barely scrape by as it is, but instead of giving something back to the community, the most well off in Canterlot would throw a BALL to celebrate how amazing their own lives were. He got so angered by it he finally moved to Clawdor.” Shin finished, chewing into his roll as Squirt nibbled on one of his own, Shinedown patting his back to make sure he didn’t eat it too fast, his adopted son had several bad habits like that. “Told me Clawdor residents weren’t as “poofy pish posh” before he finally asked me to let his soul move on.”
“He didn’t remember his killer? Or the name?” Haley wanted to know.
“No, I’m afraid that like all spirits, his memories of the living world were scattered and fragmented. I couldn’t even get him to tell me what he was doing on the day he was murdered. But I did get that the killer was wearing a blue denim jacket with a burning phoenix on the side pocket…and I got the name of his roommate.” Shin said, mouth half full of buttery roll, crumbs spraying everywhere. “The young one as indeed in the local Griffondor Academy. A senior!”
“And he’s been my roommate for half a year.” Klunky Hooves said as she closed the cover to her book, leaning back on the puffy white bed she had in her sky blue room, looking to the side at a poster of “S&M”, the famous Mobian hip hop artist.
“Do you know where he went last night?”
“This…it’s just…none of this seems real.” Klunky mumbled. “We were talking about going to see Sanders Mathers just this weekend. He’s a huge fan of S&M. “Sending it Skyward” is his favorite song.” The light grey stallion muttered, reaching over for some chocolate in a bag by his bedstand, accidentally spilling it on himself. “D’aww!” He groaned, Squirt the Changeling examining a nearby computer that was plugged into the wall by a desk at the far end of the room which had a large rabbit face sticker on it, evidently a souvenir from an S&M concert.
“Do you know where he liked to hang out?”
“Usually he liked hanging out at the library…but…there was a place he liked to go to buy stuff we used to relax.”
“You mean THIS stuff?” Squirt asked as he opened up the computer, pointing at a small bag that was sitting on the keyboard as “Itunes” played off the laptop.
“Last dance with Mary Jane…one more night to feel the pain!”
“I’m going to take a wild stab here…” Shinedown said as he rubbed his chin with a hoof, blue eyes narrowing intently at Klunky Hooves as Haley helped Squirt deposit the drugs into a small evidence bag, Shin looking with interest at a “My Cutie Mark Enlarger and Me” self-help book off a nearby bookshelf. “You got this stuff from a very particular alleyway not too far from Griffondor Academy? Off Eight and Main?”
“Yeah. You just walk down there. It’s a different dealer every time.”
“Do you know the kid’s parents?”
“…yeah. And…you’re gonna want their number.” Klutzy added softly.
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… “Several things y’all don’t get used to. Havin’ ta tell a parent they’s gots to bury their kid…that ain’t one of ‘em.” Sheriff Applejack sighed as she sat down outside of the local morgue, Rainbow Dash speaking with a well-dressed, white-headed griffon down the hall who was wearing exceptionally nice jewelry around her neck and a studded vest over her muscular chest as Dash walked over to her to sit down as well, Gilda following after.
“You ever wonder what life would have been if YOU’D taken over the farm instead of Big Mac?” Rainbow Dash asked. “If you’d, y’know, not gone into law enforcement?”
“Reckon ‘course.”
“What?” Gilda asked.
“Ya reckon? Of course!” Applejack said, taking her hat off and waving it in the air. “But this life I got? I feel like I’m doin’ real good in the world. Like I’m a-makin’ a difference. How often do you get to feel that in this world? I’m sure Twilight wonders what SHE woulda been like if she’d never come down here.”
“Or if she’d been an alicorn or something?” Rainbow Dash chuckled, shaking her head back and forth, Squirt sticking his head out of the morgue door, Shinedown still speaking to poor Hatchet’s parents. For the briefest of moments Rainbow Dash, Gilda and Applejack seemed to SHIFT, as if they weren’t honestly there, as if they were specters, mere whisps in the fabric of reality with no true tether, and then-
Nothing. Odd. But he said nothing, just slowly moved back inside the morque as Shinedown finally said the five words that both meant so much and yet offered so little.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“This…this is…do you have any idea what this feels like?” The father growled back at the part-Changeling stallion as he nodded softly, blue hair bobbing.
“Yes. My father died a few months back. And my first partner died in the line of duty in a shootout. Believe me when I say talking about it feels like taking somebody’s hoof off your chest.” Shinedown insisted in that persuasive, comforting tone he used. “Please, tell me everything you know about what he did for fun, for extracurricular activities. Anything could be helpful.”
“He was-he…he was doing some work for the CPRG.” The mother murmured out as she wiped her eyes free of tears, her pale yellow fur-covered body shuddering. “He’d been interning down there for a year now.”
“CPRG?”
“The Clawdor Public Research Group.” Gilda explained as she pushed aside the large ivory double doors that led into an enormous library, various dragons, Pegasi and griffons milling about, speaking with each other and carrying books and papers to enormous pearly desks, stacks and stacks of shelves filled with legal books circling around them all. They all IMMEDIATELY saw their country’s leader, bowing deeply before her, raising their arms in the air and lowering them as they chanted “WE’RE NOT WORTHY, WE’RE NOT WORTHY!”
“And what do they do?” Haley Long, American Dragon wanted to know, folding her arms across her chest as Sheriff Applejack walked alongside her.
Gilda smirked a bit as she rubbed fake dust off her shiny brown coat of feathers, her other clawed hand held up as she had the employees stand. “You are worthy, you may TOTALLY stand back up.” She declared somewhat pompously, all of the inhabitants of the library nodding eagerly at her before returning to their work, Gilda going over to one of the pearly roll-top desks nearby and opening it up, a moth fluttering out as she dusted actual dustbunnies aside and held up a roll of employee names, looking them over. “These are all young students interested in public service issues. And from what this says here…” She added, pointing down at young Hatchet T. Horse’s name. “He was VERY involved. Says here he was investigating the meat packing industry.”
Immediately Applejack flinched as Gilda frowned a bit. “Oh, right, you ponies don’t ever…look, its how we DO things up here. Do you think us griffons can survive on hay fries alone? Even the dragons need a pound of flesh once in a while.”
“Do you happen to enjoy CHICKEN?” Haley asked, Gilda about to open her mouth to say something before shutting up, giving Haley a look.
“You are SO lucky you’re the American Dragon or I’d TOTALLY have you thrown in jail on the spot.” Gilda muttered, folding her arms across her chest.
“So where do they bring livestock into the city?” Haley wanted to know.
“Livestock’s brought directly into the meatpacking district in the Western section of the city.” Gilda said as she opened up the desk again and looked for Hatchet’s name, finding a small file folder. “I had CPRG founded to do the things I don’t have time for, to look among my people for issues that are slowly creeping up on Clawdor, things that might be real problems with TIME. You gotta learn to nip things in the bud, y’know? This organization does that. It sends me monthly reports, I allocate money for ‘em in the Royal budget, they’ll point out little wrinkles to me and I fix them. And they’ve been good at this…huh.” Gilda held up what appeared to be a receipt and a notebook from Hatchet’s file. “Says here he was researching HOW they prepare the meat…and he bought a camera and film. In fact, there’s photographs in…”
Gilda stopped, frowning deeply as she looked over the photographs. “What? I can take it.” Sheriff Applejack insisted as she and Haley looked over the Griffon empress’s shoulder, gaping slightly at the photographs. Cows had been stripped clean of flesh, looking freshly skinned with huge red bloody lines peeled down through muscle and fat on bodies hung from gory hooks. Chunks of flesh had fallen to the ground, blood pooling below and…most noticeable, the head of a cow had been sawed through and casually discarded on the floor, its own lifeblood matting its mouth and lower neck, glassy eyes staring accusingly up at its would-be killer.
“It’s enough to make ME want to take up hay fries.” Gilda mumbled out as Applejack blanched, almost turning green as Haley tried not to look disturbed.
“Wait. WAIT.” Applejack pointed at another photograph as they looked it over. A griffon, tall, proud and dark-feathered with deep golden/brown eyes wearing a blue denim jacket underneath a large white worker’s coat, carving into meat with a large, curved knife…just like the one the killer had used on their victim.
And his jacket. It had a burning phoenix on it.
“…I RECOGNIZE him. My palace buys meat from him! That’s Heimdall!” Gilda growled out, claws clenching tightly. “I had no idea that…that stupid SCHISSE was running such a slipshod…”
“And if the jacket fits…” Haley added. “Call up Shinedown, Squirt and Shin. Have them bring him in, Applejack. Immediately. It’s time to have a little talk.”
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… “We found the jacket in a drain with the victim’s blood on it, Mr. Heimdall! The very same one you wore in the photograph!” Sheriff Applejack growled out, Squirt taking notes nearby with Shin as the two whispered to each other, nodding firmly in the interrogation room of Clawdor Police Headquarters, a large, marble building with sloping roofs and red brick walkways leading inside. “Take a look.” She said, slamming the photograph down onto the table before him as it vibrated heavily, the dark-feathered griffon gulping a bit.
“What’s the matter? You look like you’re about to have a cow.” Shinedown chuckled darkly.
“Look, it-it’s not my shirt.” Heimdall insisted quickly, waving his hands in the air.
“Oh really?!” Sheriff Applejack said with a “harrumph”, little jets of smoke bursting out from her nostrils as she folded her arms across her chest. “Look, buddy. Haley went n’ talked to yah employees. Y’all weren’t wearing that jacket the whole time. In fact, y’all finished yer work in just a t-shirt. Now, they’re a-havin’ one waaaarm spring down here, but it ain’t THAT warm!”
“Look, am I under arrest or what?” Heimdall demanded to know. “Frankly, I’m insulted.”
“The fiber analysis we did in the crime lab is an 80% match to the jacket. And we’ve got a motive for you. Animal rights violations at your plant.” Shinedown said coldly, waving a hoof in the air. “You killed him to keep him from exposing your business practices. We’re talking to your employees right now about your whereabouts for the day he was kill ed and if they flip…”
“I cannot tell you a thing.” A vaguely French-accented dragon muttered as he sat in a chair across from Haley, her black, purple-tinted hair bristling as she gaped in surprise at him. “We’ve got a new partner, a new client at the plant, we’ll make a lot of money. I cannot tell you anything else.”
“Are you serious?!”
“I CANNOT TELL YOU, it’s confidential.”
“I could SUPOENA you! You do realize this, don’t you?” Haley asked, folding her arms across her chest, purplish eyes narrowing firmly.
“No, I can’t. Anyway, how’s your sex life?”
Haley almost punched him across the face right there before he waved a thick hand in the air. “I kid, I kid. Listen. A lawyer informed me that if I talked, I lose my pension, you see?” The dragon insisted firmly. “I signed a confidentiality agreement. I cannot risk my pension! Go talk to the lawyer that works for Agro Enterprises.”
“Agro?” Sheriff Applejack asked.
“Go talk to THEM. They’re in charge of our legal division.” Heimdall insisted. “And I wanna talk to my lawyer right now.”
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… “So what can you tell us about Mr. Heimdall’s slaughterhouse? One of our witnesses who saw him wearing a dead kid’s jacket won’t tell us anything else because of some confidentiality agreement you had the employees sign?” Shinedown wanted to know as he and Gilda sat in a large diner across from a lanky Pegasus and a griffon with thick lashes, both of whom were nicely dressed in ornate blue and gold vests that looked hand stitch, studded with dozens of gems.
“Ah, yes. It was because of a litigation settlement.” The Pegasus, Mr. Crowe, said as he tapped his forehead, thick black hair falling neatly to the side of his head. “We’re co-defendants in a suit. Well, really, Heimdall’s slaughterhouse was being sued, Agro Enterprises got dragged into this. True tragedy, I must say.”
“Really. What was it about?” Shinedown wished to know, raising a nonexistent eyebrow up, placing his hooves together.
“Well…” The griffon, Ms.Madeline, sighed as she folded her arms across her chest, looking over at Gilda, who gave her a dark, furious “if you don’t talk, I’m going to have you thrown in the coliseum and fed to a Manticore along with the child abusers and deli store robbers” look. “Ah, uh, see, er…Heimdall’s slaughterhouse had been under investigation for rather improper techniques in cutting up its meat, but evidently the inspectors found something they felt was far worse. And which we, of course, had NO involvement in, naturally!”
“WHAT.” Gilda snapped coldly, cracking the bottle of wine she was chugging down as she tightened her grip on it. “Talk.”
“What do you know of E.Coli?” Crowe inquired of them, grey eyes slightly aglitter as he looked squarely at Shinedown as if judging his reaction.
“It’s a bacteria. It can cause dangerous infections that can severely damage people’s bodies.”
“E.Coli can get into a cow’s stomach. If that stomach is then handled improperly, then there’s serious potential for contagion. If the stomach is cut properly, there’s less than half a percent of a chance of infection. But for Heimdall’s company, well…” Crowe sighed. “The possible rate of infection from E.Coli bacteria was at TWENTY percent. They weren’t doing it right.”
“I ought to shut the plant DOWN!” Gilda snapped. “Didn’t my uncle Clawdius try to shut you down when he was Emperor? Twenty percent is CRIMINAL.”
“We agree they handled things poorly, but the court system kept ruling against him since, after all, we ship meat all through Equestria. This wasn’t just a local issue. Even he admitted it.” Madeline informed her as Gilda growled darkly and gave HER a “I am going to feed you to the Manticores” look.
“These people were improperly gutting one out of every five cows.” Crowe said. “We, of course, in NO way approved of this. We DEMANDED they change their ways immediately or they’d all be fired. The fact is, people were getting E.Coli infections from Griffon Grinders.”
“I suspected as much.” Shinedown murmure.d
“Griffon-what? The fast food chain? But I’ve EATEN there!” Gilda groaned, covering her forehead and growling darkly. “Really?! Why does nobody think to tell me this?! I’m only the bucking EMPRESS!
“I want to ask. Why do you even…” Shinedown began to say before Crowe held a hoof up, looking Shinedown squarely in the face.
“I can see it in your eyes. You’ve tasted flesh before.” Crowe said quietly. “…are you of Changeling blood? I assure you, we won’t judge. I’m one half changeling myself.”
“…yes.” Shinedown said firmly.
“…it’s sooooo good if it’s cooked right…don’t you think?” Crowe whispered softly, leaning across the table, looking deep into Shinedown’s eyes as he held his hooves down, grey staring into dark blue. “Soft…supple…hot as a summer’s day…sweeter than chocolate but dark as a kiss…SOOOO good.”
Shinedown held Crowe’s hooves up, then placed them across the table. “I…will stick…to HAY.” He insisted. “And it’s obvious that Hatchet was investigating more than a few animal rights violations. If he could prove they hadn’t changed their techniques, that their meat was still tainted and E.Coli was a real possibility, then Heimdall’s slaughterhouse would have been shut down and he might even have been sued for knowingly selling tainted meat.”
“Or I woulda had him fed to a MANTICORE…wait. I’ve been eating meat he sold me.” Gilda realized, slapping her clawed hands over her mouth, “urping”. “I…should go to the hospital. Like…NOW!” She yelled out, turning green. “Everything! Going dark! It’s…it’s the KING, I…I…I see Presley Pony!”
“Oh for-!” Shinedown groaned. “Look. About Griffon Grinders.” He said, his own eyes glittering. “I did some research before we arranged this meeting. “I knew about you owning them. And I know about the E.Coli victims. Would you like to know what all of them have in common?” He asked quietly, taking out a small roll of paper from a pouch on the belt he wore around his waist, his voice quiet…and dangerous. Crowe and Madeline cringed as he began to read from the paper, Gilda looking up at him, eyes widening at what he was saying. “Adele, age 6. Bellamy, age 4. Henri, age 6. Stefon, age 5, Davies, age 3…”
“By the TALON.” Gilda whispered.
“The claim wasn’t just of food poisoning. All the children suffered organ failure, these children are all DEAD because of that tainted meat. All dead…because you couldn’t be bothered to keep a closer eye on your slaughterhouse!” Shinedown snapped. “And you better BUCKING hope that what happened to Mr. Hatchet doesn’t lead back to you because if it does, I will CRUCIFY you, do you understand me?! I WILL CRUCIFY YOU!”
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… “You are wasting your time. My client is not going to tell you anything.” Heimdall’s lawyer insisted firmly, waving a hoof in the air, the Pegasus pony standing by as Heimdall had his arms folded across his chest, looking coldly at Haley Long and Sheriff Applejack across the table in the local prison’s visitation room.
“Oh, we’re not here to talk about whatcha did to Hatchet. We’re here to talk about your client’s and how he helped out in the death of five lil’ dibbuns.” Sheriff Applejack murmured softly, her hooves coming to rest on the table as Heimdall’s head snapped in her direction, eyes slightly bugging out as he did so.
“Selling infected meat with reckless disregard for the consequences…not good. We’re LIKIN’ you, Heimdall. And not in that good way.” Haley Long said quietly, dangerously, leaning in across the table. “Fortunately for you, we’re more interested in the Big Fish.”
“So you won’t charge me on the kids if…if I testify for you about if my bosses knew what was going on.” Heimdall asked quietly. “I…look…I…” He stammered, waving a clawed paw in the air, sweat matting his feathered brow. “Thing is…I…was…”
“What?”
“…two years ago we were cutting corners just to make deliveries on time. And…and Mr. Crowe knew. But…” Heimdall held his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth. “He didn’t care. We were disregarding safety hazards. Taking shortcuts. As long as we met out quota he didn’t care. And then those children died and…and suddenly everyone’s concerned about safety. I TOLD him we were cutting corners to meet quota. Plus he was getting the same reports I was. He knew that the E.Coli wasn’t in there to add a zangy FLAVOR to the meat.”
“And Hatchet?” Sheriff Applejack asked.
“…Mr. Crowe was tipped off that somebody was nosing around my place, said he was some kind of activist trying to shut down the plant. He told me to keep my eyes open. I caught him taking pictures, I followed him I-I SWEAR I just wanted to take the pictures back!” Heimdall began to cry, his voice breaking as he held his head in his hands. “I never meant to…I put thirty years into this and…I didn’t wanna get another kid killed! The kid got mad, he yelled at me, saying I was poisoning people, I saw red, it…I don’t even know how it happened, he was just yelling and yelling and I was scared I was gonna lose everything…”
“And then?”
“I…I took his things. Tossed the camera into the river.” Heimdall murmured. “All my life, I…I never thought I could do anything like this…” He said, finally breaking down into tears, sobbing horribly as his head hit the table and Sheriff Applejack turned her head to Haley, who gave a firm nod, stepping away from the table, speaking two simple words.
“DRAGON UP.”
With a burning bust of purplish/black fire, she was consumed, now transformed into a feminine, powerfully-built female dragon with dark eyes and sharp black claws with deep purple scales. “That settles it then. Mr. Crowe is now going to be arrested for second-degree murder.”
“Think he’ll want fries with that?” Sheriff Applejack chuckled.
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… “Two years ago, our quota for harvesting meat was ten thousand pounds a day. But sometimes the carriages making the deliveries would break, or a driver would call in sick, accidents DO happen.” Heimdall admitted as he sat on the witness stand to the left of Princess Celestia as she sat at the enormously tall judge’s booth, Gilda sitting behind the prosecutor’s chair that one Serge N. Sprinklz was plopped down in, Sheriff Applejack sitting next to him with Mr. Crowe sitting over at the defense table with HIS attorney. Heimdall brushed his tuft of hair feathers back, sighing. “So knives don’t get cleaned after gutting, spills from the gut table don’t get wiped up as cafefully, all in the name of making up for lost time.”
“And as a result of that, would E.Coli mingle with the meat?” Serge N. Sprinklz insisted, brushing his thick, dark green hair back, his persuasive, authoritative voice ringing through the air as he approached the witness stand in his many-jacketed tan vest. The prosecuting attorney placed his hooves on the witness stand, looking deep into Heimdall’s eyes.
“When you gotta quota, you don’t waste. Not the pieces from the gut table, not even the pieces fallen on the floor.” Heimdall sighed. “And Mr. Crowe knew that.”
“You’re positively sure Mr. Crowe was aware of the dangers of these practices?” Serge insisted firmly, stepping away from the stand, looking over at the collected jury members as people whispered in the background, casting glances at the defendant’s table.
“Absolutely. I delivered short on ONE shipment and he chewed me out over it. Thought he wanted to chew on my ear too. I told him that I couldn’t meet his quota without cutting corners, health and safety. I told him about spill rates and about how E.Coli was getting into the meat.” Heimdall insisted firmly. “I told him what we had to do to keep things clean.”
“What was his response?”
“He told me it was MY problem and if I didn’t meet quota, he’d go elsewhere.” Heimdall growled out. “I was barely breaking even. If he pulled HIS business, I’d lose mine!”
“Uh…oh.” Sheriff Applejack gulped. “I think I know what his lawyer’s gonna-”
“If I may?” Mr. Crowe’s draconic lawyer asked, standing up tall and dusting himself off as Serge stepped away so he could speak. “My client never specifically TOLD you to relax health standards. Why not increase efficiency? Add more workers?”
“I told HIM that there was no other way to meet the meat quota. That we’d HAVE to cut safety, cut into health regulations.” Heimdall insisted. “I’ve been in this business for 30 years and the mantra is “faster, faster, faster”! Anything else is a pipe dream! Why do you think Griffon Grinders brags about your order in five minutes or less or your money back?”
“Well if ten thousand pounds wasn’t feasible, you shouldn’t have made the agreement in the first place.” The lawyer told him. “And aren’t you currently serving a jail sentence? You would have gotten a higher sentence if not for the testimony you’re giving now.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“The TRUTH is that you’re blaming my client for YOUR mistake.” The lawyer snapped.
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… “We serve over 20 million people a year in Equestria. We serve ten thousand children in a week. The suggestion that we’re a company that kills children is LUDICROUS, plain and simple. Everybody loves our meat, from Central City to Station Square to the Changeling Kingdom in the far east. And you all know how difficult they are to trade with.” Mr. Crowe said, the Pegasus pony now sitting at the witness stand as Princess Celestia nodded her head in agreement to that last part.
“And yet there’s a statistical association between several children and your company, Agro Enterprises.”
“That’s statistical association, not direct proof. Look, Heimdall might have had…issues…at the meat-packing plant. But his slaughterhouse is clean now because I got it clean. Not the government. Me. All because he cleaned up his act. And I certainly didn’t tell him to break the law. Why would I pay good money for a product that wasn’t of the highest quality? I’m his customer too, in case you forgot.” Crowe insisted firmly, putting his hooves on the witness stand, his hair flopping about as he shook his head back and forth.
“Nothing further.” The defense attorney said as Serge stood up from the prosecutor’s table, walking towards the witness stand.
“Heimdall just testified under oath that you knew he was supplying a diseased product. Was he lying in what he said?” Serge insisted.
“His story doesn’t include when we found out. As soon as we knew there was a problem, we refused to do business until he fixed it.”
“And your decision just happened to coincide with the death’s of five children.” Serge said quietly.
“They caught an INFECTION. By Celestia’s mane, I’ve no idea what from.” Crowe insisted.
“I don’t know about Celestia. But I find it no coincidence that these children just happened to die within hours of eating your food.” Serge spoke softly, advancing towards the witness stand.
“My product is food! A living thing! With living things, disease is a fact of life! Children can catch E.Coli from petting animals. Why aren’t you going after all the zoos?”
“At a zoo, the danger to children is kept in a cage, sir.” Serge said softly, resting himself on one arm, leaning against the witness stand, the other resting on his hip.
“I don’t believe the food my company provided made those children sick.” Crowe told the prosecutor, looking slightly annoyed now, shaking his head back and forth.
“Then why settle with their parents?” Serge wished to know.
“It wasn’t an admission of guilt. It was just cheaper to do so than to go to trial. It was a matter of business, sir. Just smart business. Risk-return analysis.”
“Oh?” Serge asked, frowning slightly.
“EVERYBODY loves a perfect product.” Crowe said, waving his hand around the room. “But if it’s too expensive or inconvenient, nobody buys it. Security at Central City’s airport could do hand-searches of every person boarding a plane…but the delays would make them go out of business. Cars could be made as safe as a tank, but then they’d cost as much as a house. Risk-return analysis is responsible business.”
“…let me tell you something I learned getting my law degree from jail.” Serge whispered quietly, leaning in nice and slow. “Responsible business is keeping people…like your customers…ALIVE.”
…
…
…
… “Half the jury looked like they wanted to throttle him on the spot. They might call him guilty because of that speech alone.” Gilda laughed happily, clapping her hands together as everyone sat together in the lounge room.
“I’m not sure his point ain’t true. We got this expectation that a company’s supposed to look out fer its customers. But if the law don’t force them to adopt standards, they sure as heck aren’t going to pick up the slack.” Sheriff Applejack said with a sigh, shaking her head back and forth before taking a deep long sip of a bottle of hard cider, swigging it back and forth in her mouth.
“There’s no cost-benefit analysis to justify children dying.”
“The problem is that even if most of them think Crowe is a creep, Heimdall is a felon whilst Crowe is a titan of industry. They may DISLIKE him, but dislike doesn’t translate to guilt.” Shinedown admitted with a slight grunt. “What we need is to think outside the box. He’s spent his whole life trying to make his company have a friendly face. Let’s take that image he’s built up of his company and leverage it against him.”
“How?” Gilda wanted to know, frowning as she folded her arms across her chest, Squirt grinning cheerily as he slapped one hoof into his palm.
“Outta the mouths of babes, Ms. Empress! We gotta make a call to about a half dozen very upset mothers…”
PRECISELY TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER…
“You didn’t.” Crowe gasped, eyes slowly widening, mouth gaping in surprise. “Wh-what is that woman doing here?!”
Sheriff Applejack and Gilda were standing together with a female griffon. “This is what we call a “rebuttal witness”. And since y’all opened up the door with yer “risk-reward” argument, we’ve called in the momma of poor little Bellamy, one of the children who died eating yer grinders. And we’re going to call in a whoooole lot more if y’all don’t take a deal.” Sheriff Applejack said with a dark grin, adjusting the cowboy hat atop her head, tilting it downward and giving Crowe and his lawyer a dark glare in the lounge room of the courthouse.
“Unless, of course, you’d LIKE to hear what she has to say in court.” Gilda added with a small, cold grin of her own.
“How my little Belly got E.Coli from your grinders? How it attacked his lungs and heart? Just…just shut them down?” Bellamy’s mother growled with a furious glint. “He was FOUR. Just-just four…”
“This is what happens when you argue in court that adequate safety was too expensive given the risk. Mrs. James here will testify to the consequences of IGNORING that risk.” Gilda remarked. “I didn’t even NEED to order her to come here as her Empress. She said she’d testify for NOTHING.”
“And we’ve got over five other witnesses. All ready to testify in a media-packed courtroom.” Sheriff Applejack added with a wave of her hoof. “So…reckon y’all are thinking about a new “risk-reward” analysis. No way y’all can spin 8 distraught parents.”
“…what’s on the table?” Crowe asked quietly.
Sheriff Applejack grinned like a hawk, Gilda matching her smirk. “Well…”
…
….
…
… “Criminally negligent homicide. Two years for each child and he’s never going to work in this country again.” Gilda said proudly as Shinedown poured her a glass of wine at the diner they’d been to earlier in the investigation, everyone happily toasting each other, proud of a job well done, Squirt looking over at Twilight, who had flown in today and was eagerly chatting it up with Rainbow Dash and Applejack, CERTAIN he’d saw wings on her if only for a brief moment. “Y’know, that ol’ girl Celestia ain’t so bad after all. Not quite as good as feeding him to a Manticore, but still…”
“Agro Enterprises has wasted no time in distancing themselves from Crowe.” Shinedown admitted with a firm nod, blue hair bouncing a bit. “And now he gets to find out firsthand what it’s like at the bottom of the food chain.”
“Justice. It stays crunchy even in milk.” Gilda chuckled, sipping from her wine glass. “Gotta say, you PSCI do a good job with us Equestrian “bumpkins”. I know we ain’t as fancy pancy as you up in New York, but I think we can match your skills when we put our minds to it, wouldn’t you say?”
“You’re a credit to your species when you really want to be.” Shinedown admitted, seeing Squirt staring over at Twilight. “Squirt, what’s wrong?”
“I…I thought I saw Twilight with wings.”
Shinedown dropped his wine glass, his face turning pale as his mouth hung open as all of time seemed to come to a halt around him as if he was trapped in a ten car pileup.
“HYPERTIME…” He murmured.
