Babs didn’t know the name of the pony in front of her and she didn’t want to know it. In such business it was better not to know. He was just another face she’d see in her life: a brown unicorn with cropped mane wearing a suit.

He didn’t know her name either. He eyed her and White Dove curiously and smirked.

“Hello, my filly scouts…” he muttered. “Ready to make a delivery?”

“As always…” Babs said. She blew a balloon from her bubblegum and looked into the stallion’s eyes. “How about the cash?”

“As usual. A hundred bits for each of you.”

White Dove squeaked. The stallion looked at her and furrowed his eyebrows.

“She’s new?” he asked Babs. “Good… No one will suspect her. No offence, kid, but your face just screams ‘guilty’...” He poked White Dove and laughed.

“Oh, come on…” Babs made the most innocent expression she could muster. “Also, touch her one more time…”

The stallion chuckled. “Yeah… By the way, if we find out that there’s even a gram missing, you’re dead. Filly scout too…” He looked at White Dove and licked his lips. “And it won’t be quick…”

“Don’t worry, ya know we play fair. Filly scout’s honour.” Babs raised her hoof.

The stallion nodded his head and levitated two pairs of saddlebags. Babs and White Dove put them on. They seemed quite heavy considering the fact that they were empty. The stallion gave Babs a piece of paper.

“You’ll leave ‘em there,” he said. “The client will give ya the money.”

“Okay,” Babs said. “See ya later.”

“Goodbye,” White Dove muttered.

The stallion giggled. “Where did you find her?” he asked.

“Not your business,” Babs replied and left the room. They went through the small bar’s back door and stood in the middle of some dirty nook. Babs looked at the graffiti-covered walls and at White Dove who was breathing quickly.

“A hundred bits!” White Dove exclaimed.

“Chill out…” Babs muttered. “A hundred is nothin’ compared to the stuff we have in those bags.”

White Dove’s eyes grew wide. “Maybe if we took–”

“Are ya dumb? Didn’t ya hear him?” Babs rolled her eyes and took a crumpled cigarette from her pocket. “If ya want a dozen of dicks in your ass, ya may try. But don’t cry for help then…”

She lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke. She knew that she’d have to finish it before they left the nook, or she’d look suspicious. She coughed; smoking wasn’t something that was supposed to be done quickly.

“So, are we going there?” Dove asked when they left the nook and walked down the pavement.

“Not yet,” Babs replied. “First we’ll find Raz. I’d rather not go there alone…”

“Why not?” Dove asked. “I know that address. It’s a safe district…”

“That’s why we need Raz,” Babs said, rolling her eyes. “Those rich ponies… Sometimes they’re worse than the mobsters… I’ve heard about a client who took the delivery filly as a dessert… Even though she had a knife...” She patted the pocket of her jacket, checking if her balisong was there.

“And what happened to him?” White Dove asked.

“Oh, the usual… Y’know, mafia doesn’t like when someone hurts their girls… Still, it wouldn’t be a much comfort for us...”

White Dove nodded her head. Even though she started hanging out with Babs only recently, she heard about mafia and what they could do to a pony.

The town was slowly waking up; they had to find a way through the crowd of ponies walking in all the directions. Babs trotted across the street, causing several taxis to brake hard. White Dove followed her, giving apologetic looks to the ponies.

The guard standing at the corner of the pavement smiled at them. Babs smiled back, trying to contain the shaking of her legs.

C’mon, she thought. You were doing that so many times before…

“Good morning,” the guard said. “And hurry up. You’ll be late to school…”

“Yeah…” Babs muttered. “Dove! We need to go!”

They hurried up, bumping into ponies. For Dove, who lived in a different part of the town, the turns Babs was picking seemed random, but she trusted her older friend completely. If someone drew two points on the map of Manehattan, Babs would find at least three routes between them, depending whether she’d want to get there quickly, avoid the cops or watch some sights. It didn’t matter to her if it was day or night – the town had no secrets for her.

Finally, they reached the Neighponese restaurant where Raz worked. At that time of day it was rather empty. An old pony with thick, brown fur was sleeping behind the counter. Babs resisted the urge to check the contents of the cash register and went to the kitchen where Raz was cleaning the floor.

“Hello, Raz,” she said. “There’s a work to do.”

The donkey looked at her and nodded.

“We need ya and your rickshaw,” Babs said. “The old guy is sleeping so I guess he won’t need ya in a while.”

“Okay,” Raz said. He put the broom in the corner and left the kitchen through the back door. Babs went back to Dove and they waited for him outside the restaurant. Soon he appeared, riding a rusty, battered rickshaw with the restaurant’s logo painted on one side. They promptly sit on the seat in front of the vehicle.

“We need to get to this address,” Babs said, giving him the piece of paper.

The rickshaw darted forward. Some ponies galloped out of the way. Babs smiled, feeling the wind in her mane. She loved that feeling in her stomach when the vehicle was accelerating; everything around seemed blurred. For a moment, she could stop thinking about the contents of the saddlebags.

White Dove shuddered and grabbed Babs’ hoof. She closed her eyes, trying to remain motionless.

Luckily for her, the ride wasn’t long. The rickshaw stopped in front of a large skyscraper. Babs got out and looked at the front door.

“Shit…” she muttered.

“What’s wrong?” White Dove asked, getting out of the rickshaw and almost tripping over it.

“Try to guess…” Babs replied. “Ya live in such thing. Who’s usually sitting downstairs drinking coffee and watching everyone who comes in?”

“A security guy…” White Dove muttered.

“Exactly. Dunno if ya noticed, but Raz and I ain’t kinda po– I mean, equines liked by security guys.”

“What if I tell ‘em that you’re my friends?”

Razgovor laughed. Dove looked at him unsurely, so he stopped without saying a word.

“They’d say that ya have friends in low places. Also, ya don’t live here, so they won’t let you in either…” Babs said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something,” White Dove said and trotted to the door. Babs shrugged and followed her.

At first Babs thought that they could make it even without bothering the security. The elevator wasn’t far away from the door and the pony in a suit wasn’t paying attention to them, too focused on the magazine he was reading. Babs took a quick glance at the cover and snickered, seeing the photo of a pegasus mare sitting on a cloud with her hind legs spread. Only a helmet lying in front of her was covering her private parts. She was also holding a gun, pointing it at the sky and licking a barrel.

“Hey, you!” the guard shouted, lowering the magazine and looking at her. “No whores here!”

Babs approached his desk, blowing a balloon from her gum and glaring at him coldly. “Hold your tongue, dude, there are kids here,” she said, pointing at White Dove. “Also, I ain’t a whore. I’m a hard-workin’ mare.”

“Yeah, right…” the guard replied. “What are you three doing here?”

“Three?” Babs asked. “I ain’t know that kid. We’re just deliverin’ Neighponese food. Ya can check, our rickshaw is outside.”

“Still, two of you?” the guard asked. “One’s not enough?”

“One would be enough, if it wasn’t for such fucks like ya,” Babs replied. She saw the guard’s expression and thought that she shouldn’t have called him that, but then she thought that he’d called her a “whore” first. “And guess who’ll be fired if the client gets cold food…”

“You have five minutes,” the guard replied, glaring at her angrily. Babs shrugged and they trotted to the elevator.

“What a cunt,” Babs muttered when she was sure that the guard was out of the earshot. “I want to tap a kidney on some expensive carpet just to piss him off. Pun not intended.”

She noticed that White Dove’s cheeks wore a slight shade of red. She shrugged; the filly didn’t hear her when she was really angry.

The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor and they left it, looking around. Babs winced seeing the paintings on the walls and monuments standing on each side of the corridor. She’d never seen something so ugly and expensive in her entire life.

“I feel like I’m in Diamond Tiara’s house…” she muttered under her breath, looking at the carpet.

“Who?” White Dove asked.

“An old friend of mine. At least till she tried to kill my cousin and they locked her in the nuthouse,” Babs replied. “Ya’ve probably heard about her. The Sleepless Killer or somethin’ like that.”

“Oh, yes,” Dove replied, her eyes widening. “Kids in school kept saying that she’d get me next. You knew her?”

“Kinda. She didn’t look like she was fucked in the head…” Babs shrugged. “Okay, enough about her. Let’s find our client and get outta here before Mr. I’m-So-Important tries to get rid of us.”

“The Sleepless Killer?” Raz muttered, shaking his head. “Tabloids…”

Finally, they found the right door. Babs lifted her hoof and knocked.

“Who’s there?” they heard a raspy voice. Babs snickered. It seemed that the client was slightly intoxicated. The only question was whether he was still drunk or already drunk.

“Filly scouts!” she replied.

“Get the fuck out of here unless ya want to have, like, the box of cookies in the ass!”

“Nice guy,” White Dove deadpanned.

“As long as he pays, I don’t give a shit,” Babs said. “We’re gathering money for the foals with leukaemia!” she shouted, hoping that the idiot on the other side of the door wasn’t drunk enough to forget the password.

The door opened immediately. They saw a blue stallion with bloodshot eyes and messy mane. When White Dove saw him, she stood in awe. Babs kicked her in the hoof, just in case.

“I always support foals with leukaemia,” said the stallion grinning at them widely. “So, you have it?” he asked, lowering his voice to a whisper and gesturing them inside.

“Money first,” Babs said. They trotted to the flat. White Dove winced when she felt the smell of decay, alcohol and cigarettes. The floor was littered with empty boxes of takeaway food and crushed cans. The walls were covered in posters, there was also some musical equipment scattered around.

The stallion looked into his wallet. There was only a large gem in it, apparently worth much more than two hundred bits. “I guess you don’t have any change?” He scratched his head. “Wait a minute,” he said and went to the living room, leaving the wallet on a speaker.

White Dove couldn’t contain herself any longer. “Is that–“

“Neon Lights, yes,” Babs replied. “Shut up. I hope he didn’t go to get a shotgun or somethin’.”

“Why would he want to kill us?” White Dove asked.

“Vinyl Scratch,” Raz explained.

“Who?”

“Kids these days…” Babs shook her head. “She was better than Neon Lights and Sapphire Shores together, at least till some crazy mommy beat her to death. As you can see, Neon didn’t take it lightly.”

White Dove nodded. For a moment they were listening to Neon Lights searching through the garbage gathered in his flat, cursing loudly. Finally, he went back to them, levitating the money.

“Okay,” Babs muttered when she counted them. She took off the saddlebags and produced a knife from her pocket. She opened it and ripped the bottom of the saddlebags.

Neon Lights’ eyes began to glow when he saw plastic bags full of white powder. He levitated them and started to examine them, shuddering visibly.

“We’ll go,” Babs said. Neon only nodded, barely paying attention to them. Babs shrugged and they left the flat and went to the elevator.

The guard didn’t even look at them when they trotted through the corridor.

“I’ll go home,” White Dove said when they were outside. “See you later.”

“Okay,” Babs replied. “See ya.”

For a moment she watched White Dove walking away, looking for something in the pockets of her jacket. Then she turned to Raz.

“Can you drive me home? Haven’t seen my parents in, like, a week.”

Raz nodded. Babs sat in the rickshaw and for a second time that day she could enjoy the adrenaline rush associated with the fast ride.

Soon, they left the city centre. Babs could feel that the road became more bumpy; also the buildings around her were different: older and smaller, with paint peeling off the walls, revealing crushed red bricks. Some foals were playing on the sidewalks. Babs smirked when she remembered how she used to play like that. She knew that one day some of them would also follow her path.

What happened to her? She knew the answer exactly; she looked back, at the skyscrapers behind her. Then she thought about the bits in her pocket, resting next to her golden lighter. She patted her jacket. Some ponies were repulsed by the very thought of wearing something made of leather, but she didn’t care. She liked its smell and smoothness.

Also, it was a trophy. She remembered exactly the face of a young griffon when his claws caught air, just before he got kicked in the stomach. How awesome was the feeling of power, when she stood above him, tearing the jacket off of him and spitting in his face.

Money, power… the willingness to break free from that poor, ruined neighbourhood… That was the answer.

The rickshaw stopped. Babs stood on the pavement and stretched her hooves. She removed piercings from her ears and put them in the pocket. Then she pushed the scratched door open and trotted through the staircase, trying not to breathe; the stench of urine was ubiquitous. She noticed some new layers of graffiti that weren’t there when she’d last visited the place.

She knocked at the door of her place.

“Come in!” she heard a raspy voice. She opened the door and trotted inside.

Unlike the staircase, the flat was clean. The furniture was cheap and scratched, but there wasn’t even a speck of dust on it. Her mother emerged from the kitchen, holding a spoon in her mouth.

“Where were you?” she asked, her eyes half-closed. She sniffed the air. “You were smoking again!”

“School, work…” Babs explained. “I slept at Sunflower’s place. Her coltfriend smokes like a freight train.“

In fact, she hadn’t seen her older sister for months, but neither did her parents. Not to mention that even if they did, Sunflower would always cover her.

“I really need to talk with her about him.” Babs’ mother shook her head. “And you should come home after school. Where do you even work?”

Babs reached to her pocket and put a hundred bits on the kitchen table. There were no more questions. Babs trotted to the living room and saw her father sleeping on the couch. She shuddered, seeing his detached prosthetic hoof. It was yet another reason why she had to “work” – since the accident he’d had in the Manehattan Airship Factory, her father couldn’t find a permanent job.

“Hello, dad,” Babs said, sitting at the table. He woke up and looked around groggily.

“Hi, Babsy… How’s Sunflower?” he asked. Babs thought that he was learning quickly.

“Good,” Babs replied. “She sends greetings.”

“How nice of her…” Babs’ father sat on the couch and attached the prosthetic to the stump of his hind leg. “Honey! What’s for dinner?”

Babs sighed. Though the atmosphere of her home was usually upsetting her, it was nice to eat something that wasn’t takeaway food and take a shower in her own bathroom.

Her mother entered the living room and put a large plate of daffodil casserole with tomatoes in front of her. She started to talk about dad’s new job, but Babs didn’t pay attention to it, too focused on eating. In fact, she barely ever paid attention to her parents; they didn’t know much about her life, so why’d she want to know about theirs?

“So, how’s school?”

Babs nearly choked on a tomato. “Good,” she replied quickly. “Those girls ain’t tease me anymore.”

Maybe because they had a brief meeting with Cracker…

“Great!” Babs’ father exclaimed. “By the way, it’s ‘don’t tease me anymore’. You speak like some thug.”

“But at least she behaves like a good Apple.” Babs’ mother patted her mane. “She’d never do anything wrong…”

Babs suddenly felt that she wasn’t hungry anymore. She pushed the plate away and stood up.

“I’ll be in my room,” she said.

“Already?” Babs’ mother asked. “You barely came here. Really, you treat the house like a hotel…”

“What can I do?” Babs shrugged. “I must work, right?”

“It’s good that you work, but you should really, as you call it, chill out,” Babs’ father said and pointed at his prosthetic leg. “I worked much and look what happened…”

Babs nodded. “Okay, I’ll try. I promise.”

“Filly Scout’s honour?”

“Filly Scout’s honour,” Babs replied with a sigh and went to her room.

Author's Notes:

Seems that, seven years after she got caught, Diamond Tiara became legendary...