“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh that was the CMC,” I spazzed inside my head as I sped away from the dumb struck trio, I knew I had to get a hold of myself before I made things worse by getting caught; nothing would suck more than getting locked back up after only being free for a few minutes. Time to prioritize: first, get out of Canterlot; second, find somepony that can help me get home; three, get even with Princess Sunbutt for locking me in that hell hole.

“Sounds easy enough,” I rasped as I sped through the hallways of the museum sending many of the patrons leaping for cover. Okay, new first priority, get cough drops, I sound terrible. I wonder if this place has a souvenir shop, probably does knowing these ponies like I do. I gradually started slowing down the bike as I scanned faces for a likely suspect to get directions from.

“Hey you,” I said slowing to a stop in front of a purple unicorn with a gold mane wearing a, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, Manehatten Mets jersey. He was looking a little worse for the wear but, hey, it’s not every day a monster from your worst nightmares stops to say hi.

“This place got a souvenir shop?”

Rapid nodding was the only response I got from Super Fan. Seriously, his name was Super Fan, the Sin Sense has never given me the wrong name before, and it just goes to show that ponies can be as dumb as humans when it comes to naming their kids.

“Which way,” I croaked.

“D-d-d-down t-t-that h-h-hallway, th-th-through the m-m-m-modern art e-exhibits,” he stammered out, pointing down the path I was following.

“Cool, thanks pal. Oh, one more thing, cheat on your taxes again and the next time you see me I won’t be quite so friendly. Do I make myself clear, Super Fan,” I wheezed out. He then promptly fainted; I guess these ponies aren’t as tough as they used to be.

With a quick turn of the throttle I was back rolling again. This time I actually was looking at the artwork as I passed by and all I can say is… wow. I’m no art critic, but this mess was complete crap. How anyone could ever consider a giant, knitted statue of a pegasus surrounded by butterflies a work of art I’ll never know. I continued to contemplate this as I rolled up to a little room near the entrance with a neon sign hanging above it that read “Gift Shop,” kind of obvious in hind sight. I killed the engine and dismounted the bike before I walked quickly inside to get what I needed and get the hell out before someone called the guards.

The shelves inside were filled with everything from mugs to t-shirts to reprints of some of the works on display, as well as a small area filled with drinks and hard candies. I even managed to spot posters of my own painting hanging out in a bargain bin; I briefly wondered if I should sue these assholes for royalties for using my likeness all these years. Oh well, doesn’t matter, I found what I needed, a small pocket size package of Ricoltla cough drops, freakin’ horse puns, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to them, and, just for good measure and curiosities sake, a bottle of Sweet Apple Acres Apple Cider for the road.

That’s when I noticed it, the silence, nopony was screaming for help and I didn’t smell bodily waste, so where was the shop clerk? It didn’t take me more than a second to spot her, Quick Stop according to the Sin Sense, behind the counter. She was fairly young with a short electric blue mane and a pink coat; she was also currently wholly engaged in reading some gossip rag. As I set my items on the counter she barely spared them a glance before she rapidly started hitting buttons on the register and returning to her magazine that proclaimed that The Great and Powerful Trixie was not so “Great and Powerful” after all, details on page 12. It took me a second to realize what had happened and that the register read 3 bits. So, I fished the last 5 bits out of my pocket, coins that still had the original founders of Equestria on them, and dropped them on the counter.

“Thanks, keep the change” I choked grabbing my purchase and heading out the door. Whether or not she even acknowledged me or what I was I’ll never know, I just hope my little tip can help her pay for her sisters operation. What, I may be the Spirit of Vengeance but, as I also said before, my job is only to balance the scales, one way or another.

Now, I don’t care what anyone says, opening a paper wrapper while wearing gloves is a real bitch, but at least I got it done by the time I had gotten back on my bike. Quickly popping two of the little mentholated tabs into mouth I started the engine and considered my exit strategy for a bit.

So, while I size this up I might as well explain the purpose of my stop. You see, being locked in stasis like that can be a real pain. Sure, you can’t move or interact with the world around you, but your body can still reacts to things. In this case, I haven’t said a word for a very long time so my throat, yes you can’t see it but it’s still there, was rather raw and scratchy, thus the raspy voice. Also, the drink was also for my throat but mostly, it’s good to keep up appearances. Yep, you guessed it, the state of my body keeps me from needing food, water, or sleep; it’s actually pretty useful, but old habits die hard so don’t judge me. Plus, sitting there for several centuries made my ass go numb, so I needed a stretch.

“Guess I got no other options,” I whispered to myself, at least those drops had started kicking in, I started rolling the bike back just to give myself a bit of a head start. A quick glance told me nopony was going to get in the way of the stupid stunt I was about to pull, and I gunned it. I smashed my way through the glass doors leading outside and flew off the top of the steps like a bat outta hell. As I came crashing to the streets below I cut a quick turn to stop my forward momentum and looked back at my handy work. Those doors and the surrounding frame were now a twisted mass shattered glass and smoldering wood.

“I probably shoulda just walked the bike out the doors like a normal person,” I said as I turned to face the group of stunned ponies standing nearby, “but it sure was a lot cooler… my… way.” The aforementioned group of ponies turned out to be a mixed bunch of about ten guardponies, and boy, did they look pissed.

“Evening officer, mighty fine weather we’re having ain’t it,” I joked trying to defuse the situation before it went to hell.

“Stay where you are criminal scum, we’re taking you in,” yelled a unicorn in the front that I had to assume was the ranking official.

“Whoopsy, gotta ride,” I shouted back at him as I gunned the engine and took off down the streets of Canterlot.

Author's Notes:

Here it is, Chapter 2, as promised. As usual: questions, comments, concerns?

Sin Sense: Allows the one who posseses it to see all deeds another has committed in their life, be they good or bad, with a single thought and allows them to know how to proceed with the given information. It allows the one who possesses it to see the selected persons name so as to avoid confusion as to their identity.

Also, wow, 867 views, 190 likes, and 241 favorites. Either I'm doing something write or you folks are way too easily amused. Doesn't matter which, thanks for the likes and favs, I'll try and live up to your expectations.