So there we are. Mexican standoff. I and about half my diamond dogs are surrounded by armed and angry ponies. They in turn are surrounded by more of my Diamond Dogs. They have an alicorn, at least one unicorn and the Elements of Harmony. I have the Alicorn Amulet.

And I have one of their foals by the neck as a hostage.

"Nobody move!" I bellowed. Nobody moved. I got the squirming brat under one arm and held my glowing hand to her face. "Lay down your weapons. Now!" The pegasi dropped their spears with a clatter. "The elements too! Take them off---" I flicked my finger and magically righted one of the barrels-- "and drop them in there."

"Not a chance," the rainbow-maned one said.

"I have the upper hand here," I said. "I have one of your foals." The pegasus made a move as if to rush me. "And you're killing her," I finished. I poured magic into my gauntlet. With a skrreeeeeeek, the metal claw tips of my gloves grew out into long, shiny razor blades. I laid one against Tiara's cheek. Her squeals and struggles stopped immediately and she whimpered in fear.

"All right! All right! Just don't do anything rash," the alicorn said. She removed her tiara and dropped it in the barrel. Fuming, the others dropped their necklaces in after it. I magically plugged the barrel and with a quick wave sent it sailing off into the Everfree.

They cried out in dismay. Perfect. That'll keep them busy.

"Now down on your bellies. YOU HEARD ME! On the ground, bellies flat to the ground." They obeyed; sitting down...couchant. I resisted the urge to facepalm. "No, I meant... just... face down! Yes, like that, with your... RIGHT! Argh." Eventually I got them all lying prone with their hooves over their heads.. with the ends of those nasty little horns planted in the ground. I was going to make D__ed sure they couldn't jump up and blast me, or hurtle hooves first at my face.

I motioned for the dogs to get the wagons. They ran forward eagerly and started the wagons rolling towards the forest line. "You moron," I grated at Filthy Rich. "You threw away a legit contract that would have raked you in mountains of gold. For all you knew I was just some unicorn hermit who didn't want to be hassled."

"I figured out who you were the moment you spoke to me," Filthy Rich said, not looking up from the dirt. "You kept saying you had hands. Nopony in Ponyville other than Spike the Dragon has hands.... and you."

I jerked. So that's why he'd given me those funny looks when I'd spoken to him. And saying Nobody instead of nopony ("nopony." Geez, how whimsical can you get?) hadn't helped either.  "And that mattered because?" I retorted. "All I was buying from you was some basic staples!"

This time it was Sparkle's turn to snort. "Don't take us for fools," she said. "One look at that list and I knew what you were up to. Rainbow Juice? Truthbloom pollen?  Thaumatically polarized unicorn horn powder? You had over a dozen potent thaumaturgical components and potion ingredients on that list!"  

What? Oh for--- I'd thrown in a handful of random items (before you ask, the catalog had pictures)-- mostly out of idle curiosity. She was telling me that I'd  I'd basically gone in and bought the local equivalent of a few hundred packets of Sudafed and a bag of ammonium nitrate fertilizer. Oh for crying out--

Whatever.

The dogs ran to the wagons and started hauling again. I started backing towards the forest; the trees parted behind me. "Nobody make a move," I said, clutching my hostage under one arm, blades at her neck. "If you try, I swear, you'll never see this brat ever again."

So help me, I actually saw the conflicted feelings on the younger ones' faces.

Kill her, tear her head off, spray them with her blood, make the traitor suffer for betraying you

Twilight Sparkle (yes, that was her name, I finally recalled) dared to lift her head up a little and look at me. "Listen to me, Darth Vulcan," she pleaded. "We're not your enemies. That thing around your neck is the Alicorn Amulet. It gives you power but it corrupts the mind of whoever wears it!"

That settled it. I'd been upset the thing wouldn't come off, but now I was bound and determined it would never leave my neck. "You mean the way your junk jewelry nearly turned my brain into banana pudding?" I sneered. "And you want me to give up my only protection? Not a chance in pan-fried hell."

The first wagon had rolled past me and into the dark of the woods. The second one was squeezing through the gap in the trees when there was a loud crack, and it listed over on one side. Several of the containers inside broke and spilled. I looked back. #$T^! One of the wheels had snapped! I swore like a sailor. I tried to levitate it; no dice. Baffled, I tried using a shadow hand to lift it-- the hand fizzled the moment it touched the wagon. "What the fuh?" I screamed.

"The unicorn horn powder, darling," the white unicorn with the ungodly makeup said smugly. "Thaumatically polarized, remember? We wondered why you ordered a box. It dampens magic something dreadful. It seems you've gotten it all over the inside of your wagon."

I paused. "Okay, I gotta know."

"What?" Celestia said.

"Unicorn horn powder. Is it powder you use ON unicorn horns, or powder made FROM horns? And if it's made FROM horns, where in the hell--"

"From," Celestia said, impatiently. "And we get our horns filed regularly, to smooth out unsightly bumps and ridges as they grow. Is this really important? Now?"

"Well it BUGGED me..."

"GAAAH!" I tried to shove the wagon with one hand. It slid forward a couple of feet but that was it. The blasted thing was blocking the way, and it wasn't budging an inch. I looked up and saw more pegasi winging their way to us; they were just specks at the moment but they were closing fast. "Leave the wagons! Grab what you can and go!" The dogs obeyed, grabbing bags and barrels and running for it, bounding over the broken wagon.  "You're going to regret this," I seethed. "More than you've regretted anything in your life."

I pulled apart the trees behind me and made a passage for myself. I wasn't going to try and climb over the wagon, not with magic-stopping dust all over it. I gave my last threats was I backed into the woods. "Nobody stops me. Nobody follows. If I see so much as a single hoofprint, she dies." In a surge of rage I poured magic into the ground. Thorny vines erupted from the ground, turning the treeline into an impenetrable wall. I kept pouring it on, sending the vines crawling and weaving through the trees, blocking the way with a thorny hedge. The look on Filthy Rich's stupid face as I closed off the way was priceless.

I turned and ran after the wagon rattling down my make-shift road, fuming. I lifted Diamond Tiara by the scruff of her neck and glared at her eyeball to eyeball. "For your sake, you'd BETTER hope there's some toilet paper on that wagon," I hissed.

It took us, once again, six d--d hours to travel. We had my road. But that just meant I had to stop every few minutes and destroy it behind us to erase our trail, block it with boulders, grow new vines and tree branches, turn up the stones. I took the added precaution of making rabbit trails that branched off for a few hundred yards before dwindling away... I was feeling mean enough to make sure those trails dwindled off someplace particularly nasty. I hope those manticores like their new half-mile driveway. I even took us on a circuitous route on and off the path, laying and destroying new road to confuse things more.

By the time we got back to the cave lair, I was exhausted, bedraggled, and feeling mean enough to bite the head off a cockatrice and chew it. We had less than a third of the supplies I paid for... there was toilet paper, thank God, and some pink medicine that had to be the local equivalent of Pepto Bismol. At least I really really hoped it was.

But what really burned was that my potential avenue for converting this dragon hoard into swank living was gone. Do you have any idea how maddening that was? I could reach down and run my fingers through gold coins. This world, gold and gems were as common as bottle caps. I could scoop up in my two hands enough riches to buy a mansion and a yacht back home, and use the change to buy a fleet of lamborghinis. I was rich as Bill Gates and Steve Jobs put together and I couldn't even buy a loaf of bread.

The one responsible is suffering. You have his child make him suffer more

I considered the kid. I probably was doing the money-grubbing bastard a favor.

Once the path was sealed and we were underway I'd turned her over to one of the dogs for safekeeping. The dog had tied a rope around her neck and made her march along.  The moment she was out of my grip she'd used every tantrum throwing trick in the book. She'd fought, she'd kicked, she'd bit, she'd screeched and swore and promised her Daddy would make us all pay.  When none of that worked she turned to throwing herself down and turning into deadweight. She'd get cuffed to her feet, only to do it again a few steps later.

Finally the dog holding her leash gave up and just dragged her by main strength. That was hard enough on her, even with the grass and mud smoothing most of the way. Then we reached a bog. The big lunk holding her leash gave less of a crap than a honey badger and just walked in up to his knees. Her screeches turned to splutters and chokes as she was dragged by her neck through the muck, half drowning her and covering her in mud. He didn't let her get to her feet till we got to the other side.

She was compliant after that, limping along behind him as close as she could... and still griping, cursing, threatening and whining with every step. I was at the head of the column, she was at the back, and it still had me grinding my teeth.

When we arrived at the cave I set the dogs to putting the few goods we'd gotten into storage. Then I went and tended to our guest.

She was a mess. She was battered and limping and covered in bruises, thorn scratches and nettles... what little of her wasn't dripping with half-dried, brackish mud. Her tail was a lumpen mass of tangles and mud, so was her mane. But that d$%^ed tiara was still on her head. It was bent and cracked and half the gemstones were missing, but there it was, stuck on her head at a crooked angle. And I don't know what was in that mud but she smelled like Wookie crap.

Her head was hanging to her knees and her legs were shaking, but she glared up at me, her eyes just bugging out, just as hateful and arrogant as ever. "I'll get you for this," she said, her voice raw. "My Daddy will eat your LIVER-- I'm filthy and I stink and my mane is ruined and-- "

Fwaugh. I'd had enough. I picked her up by the scruff again and took her over to the bath.

At about day one and a half I'd gotten sick of the smell of unwashed dog and used my powers to carve out some basins in the cave floors for bathing, and put out the order that everyone was to take a dunk whether they thought they needed it or not. Anyone that refused, I had the others grab 'em and shove 'em in. They set up a howl, but it worked. The place smelled like wet dog, now, but at least there were fewer fleas.

I checked the nearest stone tub. It still had fairly clean water in it. Perfect. I took the brat and dunked her in the bath, sloshed her back and forth in the water for a minute, than pulled her out. She screeched and splashed the whole time.

She looked like a wet basset hound, but at least the mud was gone. She kaaked and spluttered and set up a howl. "Somepony help me! You saw it, he's drowning me!! This ugly stupid thieving minotaur-thing is drowning me--"

The last of my patience just... vanished. Pop. Burst like a zit. Fury just flushed through me; I saw red. "No," I said. My voice sounded weirdly calm even to me.  "This is drowning you." Then I pushed her down under the water and held her there.

The water boiled with her thrashing. I gave it a five count. Then...another five count. Then ...

then...

Then just as the bubbles were starting to taper off I pulled her out. She coughed and gagged, puking the water back out. I held her upside down and shook her for good measure till she was breathing clearly, then flopped her over the side of the tub like a wet dishrag.

"There now," I said. "See the difference?" She didn't answer of course, she was too busy shaking and gasping for air. "I said do you see the difference?" She shook her head yes, eyes wide. "And you're not gonna give me any s@#$% anymore, are you?" I asked. She shook her head no. "Good."

I stumped for a minute figuring out what to do with her. I gave her a rough drying with a gunny sack from the wagon, tied her hooves together and took her further into the caves.

The diamond dogs had actually managed to get pretty far in making the place livable. They'd gone and fetched their mates and pups after I'd freed them from Big Boss, and now the whole lot were living in the caverns. The females had either made or brought along crude wooden furniture, some pottery, and other rough style home stuff, and had overseen most of the dragon roasting. They were going over the few goods that had survived our little fiasco and were in the process of putting together something resembling a meal in the communal kitchen area.

I found the one in charge; a big fat she-dog who was as ugly as a bulldog licking a thistle. I picked her because I'd seen her with a few pups clinging to her; she at least knew how to put up with whining kids. "Here," I said, handing her the damp, shivering filly. The dog took her, looking a little confused. "Keep her safe," I said, pointing in what I hoped was a commanding fashion. "Feed her, whatever, but do not let her out of your sight. Understand?"

She gave me a sort of rough curtsy. "Yes, Dark Lord. Keep pony safe, don't let her out of my sight."

"Good." I left her to take care of the brat till I had some new idea what to do with her.

Celestia and her guards stared at me, speechless.

"Say," I said conversationally. "Ever hear of a story called 'the Ransom of Red Chief?' Where two sharp characters kidnap a rich man's grandkid to hold for ransom, and the little darling terrorizes them so bad that they end up begging the old man to take him back?"

"I can't say I've ever heard it," Celestia said stiffly.

I let my face and voice go flat. "Neither has reality."

The guards weren't so reserved. "You're nothing but a brute," one said with disgust.

I looked him dead in the eye. "Yeah, and I taught that brat a lesson her useless Daddy never did," I said. "that you can't always get what you want by throwing a tantrum.

"The irony is that it'll probably save her spoiled little life someday."

I basically spent the next hour or so sitting in my private chambers, brooding.  I had gold I couldn't spend, an army I couldn't feed, powers I didn't understand... I shot a look over at the crude bookshelves holding my "plunder" from my first "raid.".. magic tomes I couldn't read... and now a hostage who's father was probably crossing his metaphorical fingers and checking over her life insurance policy to estimate the payoff.

Crap, I didn't WANT a hostage.

kill her off

And I couldn't exactly go back and go "whups, didn't need one of these after all" and walk away. Couldn't just throw her out in the woods either.

finish what you started

But keeping her was begging for an army of ponies to show up on my doorstep

but they will anyway

heart pounding, hands gripping the neck

and it felt so good watching those bubbles trail off didn't it choking flailing light fading--

I snapped awake with a start, gasping and shaking. Cripes, I'd fallen asleep staring at the wall. I hate it when I do that; I don't know why, something about it but when snap awake I have this sort of existential panic attack. It's like sleep paralysis, except, I dunno, in reverse. Like my body has woken up but not my whole brain.

I went through one for a minute there, babbling nonsense to myself and my arms and legs spazzing as my body and brain rebooted out of order. When it was done it was like my defrag had failed. Couldn't even remember what I'd been semi-dreaming about. Something about bubbles and looking up through water....

I was left with a solid mental impression, though; I'd have to be careful around the brat. I had a snap temper right now. Probably from being sick and short on sleep. I might do something hasty--- like chucking her out a window-- that would just make things a bigger pain in the ass than they were already. It might have been worth it all if she'd actually been useful... for... something...

Idea. Time to check on the hostage.

I made my way back down to the kitchen. I found Big Mama (and yes, that was her name) there, working over a cauldron, throwing in chunks of raw meat and chopped root vegetables off the wooden stump she was using for a chopping block. For a moment I got alarmed, I saw a few of her many pups running around, getting into stuff (okay no don't stick your hand in that after picking your ew, okay I don't think I'll be sampling anything out of THAT bag now) but I didn't see Diamond Tiara anywhere. then I looked up and saw a gunnysack hanging from a hook in the wall next to Big Mama's cauldron, right next to a likewise-suspended chunk of Dead Big Boss. A familiar disheveled looking head was peeking out of the bag. It was Diamond Tiara of course, alive and well more or less. Her eyes were fixed on the bloody butcher block below her, and the rather large cleaver sticking out of it. I could hear her whimpering faintly.

I cleared my throat. It sounded like a bear coughing. Big Mama turned around and bowed. "Yes, Dark Master?"

I... words failed me. I pointed to the filly hanging like a Christmas ham on the wall. "... The Hell?"

She looked where I was pointing and got the gist. "Dark Lord say to not take my eye off her," she shrugged. "Here is only place I can see her all the time while I work."

I thought over what to say. I just couldn't assemble the words. I tried three times before I could string something together.  "And what else happened while I was asleep?" I asked, while I stood there wishing I could rub my temples through my helmet.

Big Mama proceeded to fill me in. Apparently Darling little Diamond Tiara had enjoyed a rather interesting time while I was asleep.

Mama had started her out tied to a table leg by her leash. Diamond Tiara had thanked her by giving her an endless litany of whines and complaints. Hoping to distract her and trying to shut her up, Big Mama had let the pups play with her... which in this case consisted of a lot of pouncing and chewing on manes and tails on their part and a great deal of screeching on hers. Big Mama had been nice enough to give her a plate fresh bloody chunks of the best stuff right off the block, only to have the ungrateful thing reject it, screaming in horror. Big Mama had informed her she'd get nothing till she cleaned off her plate. I could see the plate still on the floor, the dried sticky remains of her "dinner" still stuck to it.  

She'd kept making all kinds of noise until Big Mama had finally "disciplined" her. Parental discipline among diamond dogs consisted of a mock mauling; batting the kid around on the floor while barking and snarling and snapping your fangs an inch from their face. That had apparently worked wonders. Big Mama had been forced to the gunnysack method because she couldn't work around a pony lying curled in a fetal position in the middle of the floor.

The final insult had been when Diamond Tiara had finally begged to go pee. Big Mama had taken her, sack and all, to the latrines, where the pampered filly had thrown a screaming fit. She had been informed she either used the open-air ditch like everyone else, or she could just hang in a wet gunnysack. Will broken, Tiara, still hobbled, had backed up to the pit to do her business.

And promptly fallen in.

Which of course necessitated a little trip to the baths again...

When the pony was clean to Big Mama's satisfaction (unlike me, Big Mama had access to soaproot), she had stuffed the filly back in the sack and hung her up on the wall while Big Mama finished butchering the fish and dragon meat for the stews. The filly, for a miracle, had shut up once the cleaver came out, so Big Mama had managed to finish making dinner in peace.

I resisted the urge to facepalm yet again. I was resisting that a lot with this particular batch of minions. Why the HELL did Evil Overlords favor dumb-yet-strong minions anyway? "SO let me get this straight. You took a juvenile herbivore.  Treated her like a chew toy. Fed her bloody entrails. Dropped her in a latrine. Stuffed her in a potato sack and hung her up like a Christmas goose from a butcher's hook, and made her watch while you proceeded to hack a pile of meat into bloody chunks a few inches from her toes?"

Big Mama stared at me blankly. "Um. I think that it, yeah."

Great. Best diamond dog in the tribe with kids, and she'd probably put the kid into a permanent fugue. I took my unwanted hostage, sack and all, rounded up a bowl of fruits and vegetables, and carried both back to my chambers.

Once I got there I shut the door behind us, dumped her out of the sack on the floor, and cut her out of her hobbles. I plunked the bowl on the floor in front of her, next to a mug of water. "Eat," I said. She stared at it like she was afraid it would bite her.

"EAT!" I yelled. She yipped and began scarfing down a carrot as fast as she could chew, never taking her eyes off me. I plunked my tired butt down in my one chair and let her eat.

After she'd polished off a couple of carrots and apples and slowed down a little, I went over and picked a book at random off my shelves. I plunked it down in front of her. She took her face out of the food bowl and looked at it. Once I was sure I had her attention, I spoke.

"Here's the deal," I said. "You do as I say. Exactly as I say. When I say it. And I make your stay here pleasant. You give me anymore crap, and you go back in the gunnysack." I waved it at her.

She looked at me, with just absolute loathing in her eyes. "I hate you," she said, her voice flat.

"Go ahead and hate me," I said. "But you'd better do as I say."

She started to huff and puff, the way kids do when they're building up a head of steam. Her eyes puddled up. "You can't do this to me," she insisted. "I'm rich. I have powerful friends--"

Oh, cute. Learning at daddy's knee already. "You don't HAVE friends," I said scornfully.

That hit home. Her little jaw dropped, then-- "That's a lie! I have lots of friends--"

"Bull," I said. I flicked one of my Eyes of Vulcan (ding! we have a winner!) into existence and made it hover around her, staring at her. "I watched you. For an entire day. Followed you around. Watched all you did. Listened in to all your conversations. You have NO friends. There isn't a pony in Ponyville who can stand you. Mare, stallion, colt or filly. You're rude and nasty and spiteful and not a one of them can stand you."

"That... that's a LIE," she repeated. "Silver Spoon is my friend--"

"You mean the little grey pony with the spoon mark, who follows you around everywhere?" I leaned forward till my mask was an inch from her nose. "She only hangs out with you because you're rich. She's just like everyone else in your town; she's only polite to you because your Daddy has money, and because she thinks she has to be."

She jumped to her hooves. "You're a liar! I hate you! When my Daddy comes to save me--"

I blasted her at full volume. "YOUR DADDY TRADED YOU FOR A COUPLE OF BAGS OF COINS!" She froze, her mouth open, her eyes wide in denial. "That's RIGHT. THAT'S JUST WHAT HE DID. HE KNEW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF HE DOUBLE CROSSED ME AND HE DID IT ANYWAY! He didn't care what might happen to you or to anyone else, BECAUSE HE LOVED HIS MONEY MORE THAN YOU!

"THAT'S why you don't have any friends. THAT'S why nobody who knows you can STAND you! He was too busy grubbing MONEY to teach you how to be anything but a worthless, spoiled little TURD! He PROBABLY figured if he got tired of you, he'd marry you off for even MORE money later so NO BIG LOSS!

"Your Daddy's not some big powerful important pony, he's a money grubbing EARTH PONY with a STORE and a few BUCKS! So if you're waiting for Daddy to save you, FORGET IT! HE COULDN'T CARE LESS! NOBODY DOES! SO GET OVER IT!"

That did it. She sat there for a minute, not moving. Then her mouth closed and her chin crumpled up and the waterworks started. "T-that's not true..." she quavered. "My Daddy loves me. He does. He's gonna come and save me--"

"Shut it!" I snapped. Her jaw closed with a click. "Now here's the deal. Like I said, do as I say and you get treated okay. Maybe even treated good. Give me, or my Diamond Dogs, any s@#$ and you'll go back in the potato sack and back to Big Mama. Do we have an understanding?.... Well?"

Her eyes dropped to the floor. "What do I have to do," she whispered.

I magically picked up the book and propped it up so she could see the cover. "Start reading."

She looked at the book, then at me. "Read this?"

"Did I stutter?"

She looked at the cover, cheeks wet. "Ad-advanced herrma-- hermeneutic principles for--"

"Crap." With a wave of a finger I snatched the book away and replaced it with another. "Try this one."

"In--interme-diate thau-ma..."

"Gah. Still too much." I flicked the book away and scanned the shelves. Oy. Brightly colored, big pages, lots of illustrations... with unicorns and bunnies on the cover. Looked like I'd grabbed a whole series. I was gonna have to flash fry anyone that heard about this. "Here." The book landed in front of her.

She read the cover. "Little Unicorn's first books of magic, Volume one?" she said.

I nodded and magically flipped it open to the first page. She sniffled and wiped her eyes and nose on her foreleg. "My Daddy will come and save me, " she said faintly. "He will. You'll see..."

She started reading the first page. I sat back.

Ahhh. Now we were getting someplace.