Hello there, fillies and gentlecolts. I hope you all have something to drink, because it’s time for me to tell you a story. As my dear children probably wrote on the invitations, we all gathered here, in this comfy old pub, to celebrate my sixtieth birthday.

Some say that sixty is that magical age when pony goes to sleep as a young adult and wakes up as a serious, old mare, with a herd of children and grandchildren. You know, goodbye adventure, welcome pills, knitting needles, and saving the pension for a fancy coffin.

I’m gonna tell you, fillies and gentlecolts, what I think about it. Bullshit. It is all bullshit. Don’t look at me like that, motherfu– Oh wait, you’re my son. Pour me one more whisky and don’t say that I shouldn’t drink, because I know what I should and shouldn’t do!

Where was I... Oh yeah, sixty. I’m sixty and I feel as good as on that memorable day thirty years ago, when Vinyl opened this little pub. It didn’t have so much cool stuff on the walls back then, you know. All those propellers, flags, an octopus above the counter... It all came later and I’m gonna tell you about that, if my dear children stop interrupting me.

Thirty years ago... Those were times. Nowadays you all have that new stuff... Thirty years ago a plane was a rarity, especially a plane as cool as Hot Coco. Ponies weren’t such soft cunts like kids these days... What? Please, children were using worse words back in my days! Just ask auntie Ruby! Anyway, we all were, as you’d say, badasses. We had to be. There were hardly any roads, so if you wanted to go through Equestria, you had to either be a pegasus, take a train, or prepare for a few days of pulling a cart through the desert. Thanks to Cherry Berry and me, the planes became more common, but I’ll tell you about it later.

I’d want to say that it all started exactly thirty years ago, on the day of my thirtieth birthday, but I can’t. Big things take time, you know. Thanks for the whisky, Hannibal. Really, I should disown my children and give everything to my beloved nephew...

Big things take time. So, it didn’t start thirty years ago, but rather two years earlier, just after that memorable wedding when auntie Inkie and auntie Coco got married. I already told you about how we robbed mafia from Las Pegasus and how we ran away to Prance where they made us steal the sword of Cedric Lulamoon... Yes, your great, great-something grandfather... Umm... Trixie? How are your kids called again? Pixie, Dixie, and Starfall? Celestiadammit... Nevermind. The day after the wedding, Grace and I decided to go to a pub. I had money from our cache in the abandoned mine near the rock farm and, believing that the adventure was over, I decided to get crazy.

I woke up three weeks later in some hotel, barely remembering what happened. Glimpses. Snippets. Grace was nowhere to be found. Instead, I had to wake up two stallions, a bat pony pony and a zebra, and tell them to get the fuck out. See, granny could really play back then. Well, today I can play too...

Anyway, I woke up, unfortunately sober, told the stallions to get the fuck out, found a young filly in bed... Yeah, I partied that hard... Actually, I got pretty scared. I remembered something about asking her for her ID, but who knew what was real... I told the filly to get out too, then checked what was under the bed... Luckily there was no corpse there... Then I checked the closet. No corpses, no Chris Hoofsen. I sat on the bed, wondering how much money I wasted for alcohol and exclusive prostitutes. For a moment, I was worried that I managed to spend everything...

After I paid for the room and damages, I went to the bank and, to my relief, found out that there was quite a lot of money left. I... Back in that hotel room, I had a vision. I took the first train back to Ponyville and went straight to Cherry Berry.

She had ideas, I had cash. Well, she also had cash she got for repairing Aryanne’s airship, but I had more. We bought a piece of land a mile from Ponyville... Well, now it’s in the city centre, but back then it was a mile from the town. It took us a few months to build a hangar and even everything out. We put all the Cherry Berry’s prototype helicopters there. We bought parts and in another few months we had a couple of working, pedal-powered helicopters there. Back then, when you wanted to transport something heavy, you had to hire some pegasi. Our pilots were mostly earth ponies and pegasi. I personally trained Inkie to become the first one.

It took us a year to build a second hangar and buy a turboprop engine in the Griffon Empire. Do you remember Cherry Berry before the brain surgery? She couldn’t remember my name, but she could easily say all the parts of such an engine, even woken up in the middle of the night. In a few months, we built our first plane, Little Cadance.

Funny thing with that name, you know? Vinyl invented it. Where’s Vinyl? We should drink her health, I think. Here she is... Cheers, mate! May the trees our coffins will be made of grow for at least another sixty years!

The name. Vinyl invented it and, when I wasn’t looking, painted a nose art depicting... Well, she painted Cadance as one of her Prench fillies. One day we went on a test flight with Inkie. Little we knew that Princess Cadance visited her sister-in-law on that day and they were taking a walk through the streets of Ponyville, when we flew over their heads. They immediately took off, probably to ask us what was going on. I don’t know, since Inkie kicked the thrust lever and it turned out that no alicorn can outfly the griffonian turboprop engine.

There’s twenty miles or thirty two kilometres from Ponyville to Canterlot. The train back in those days was doing a longer route through Hollow Shades, not to mention all that climbing up the mountains, so it takes about two hours to get to the capital in the first-class carriage. An average pegasus from Ponyville, on a sunny day with no wind, needs about twenty minutes to fly and say hello to Princess Celestia. Rainbow Dash, in her youth, could fly there in one and half minute. We weren’t that good, I must admit. But still, after ten minutes of flight, we were flying a few metres from the tower of Princess Celestia’s castle.

Anyway, it took me a while before I persuaded Inkie that there’s a reason Cherry Berry taught us that her invention has four speeds we should always remember: the stall speed, that is the one we need to fly with to not fall, the cruise speed, which is safe, the maximal speed we were currently flying with, and a speed where everything was falling to horseapples. The last two were rather close to each other. Not surprising when you want to fit a big-ass engine into a biplane.

Luckily, we had to land before we started to lose parts. The reason for that was simple: before we took off, I told our mechanic, Hexagon Nut (also known as Nakrętka or Hexie) to tank the plane. Hexie, being from Ponyland, assumed that the gauge of our petrol pump was scaled in kilograms. I forgot to tell her that Cherry Berry’s complicated mind accepted only pounds, and even then, she usually called them “Bugrit! Millenium hand and shrimps!” or something similar.

To make matters worse, Cherry Berry didn’t install any kind of alarm telling us that we’re running out of fuel. We learned about it when the engines turned off. As a result, Inkie made a perfect emergency landing on a meadow somewhere between Hollow Shades and Manehattan. Twenty minutes later, we were joined by Princess Cadance, who told us that she really liked that picture of hers and asked us who drew it. Life is weird sometimes.

Anyway, we dragged Little Cadance back to Ponyville, and while Cherry Berry was repairing her and building a new plane, we started to slowly expand our small airport. Shortly before my thirtieth birthday, we decided to build a new office. My old office was just an old, half-burned desk in a hangar, next to Cherry Berry, who was usually drinking and yelling something at somepony invisible. It took us a while, but on the day when I turned thirty, the building was ready. I still remember that day, when I stood in front of the door and said...

“Okay, girls,” I say. “Who of you, imbeciles, had such a great idea?”

“You don’t like it?” Vinyl asks. “I spent a whole night painting it...”

“The painting is fine,” I reply, looking at the massive letters above the door. “It’s just the copywriting that’s fucked up... Who invented that motto?”

“You,” Vinyl replies.

“Me?” I ask, looking at her as if she was crazy. Maybe because she is. Maybe not like Cherry Berry, who is three stops beyond barking, but still. “When?”

Vinyl scratches her head. “You were, like, busy with that new plane when I ask you what to write above the door. You told me that you didn’t know, so I, like, asked you what’s your company about. You said something about transporting shit everywhere...”

I facehoof and shake my head. I could’ve seen that coming... “So you took it literally and that’s why there’s ‘Turner and Berry – We’ll Transport Your Shit, Like, Everywhere!’ written above the door?”

“Exactly,” Vinyl says, smiling proudly. “It’s, like, about that ‘like’, huh?”

Vinyl. Vinyl never changes. I trot forward to my office, deciding that I’ll think about it later. I open the door, turn on the light...

“Surprise!”

Of course. I forgot that my second pilot is the sister of Pinkie Pie. There’s no way to turn thirty in this town without all the citizens waiting for you in your fridge. Everypony is here, even Rarity. Last two years were kinda interesting for her – she found that Sparkler is her lost twin sister and then gave birth to a crystal pony. We still wonder who is the father. Sparkler is strangely quiet about that.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to act surprised.

“It’s your birthday, silly!” Pinkie replies, giving me a party hat and a cupcake. I free from her grasp and go to look for some quiet corner to hide and somehow survive this party.

“Hello,” somepony says, patting my ass. I recognise the voice and turn around instead of kicking the owner to the next Friday.

Dinky Hooves, totally-not-a-sister of my self-proclaimed niece Ruby Pinch. Imagine Vinyl when she was eleven, and you get the idea. That weird kid who puts potatoes in her ass, uses a really big knife as a toothpick, and thinks Vinyl is funny. She’s levitating a present to me and smiling widely. “Happy birthday!” she exclaims.

“Thank you,” I mutter and open the present. Inside, there are two gems: a bigger, blue one, and a smaller which is almost black. “What are those?” I ask.

“You have to cast some spell on this blue one,” Dinky replies. “Then, if you hit it with the black one, it’ll cast the same spell.”

Oh yeah, I’ve heard about those. Most of magical guns use them – a simple magical attack is cast on the bigger gem and the smaller stone is built into a hammer. Hmm, I think I know what spell to use.

I light my horn and aim it at the bigger stone. Dinky’s eyes grow wider as she watches it shine and glow with inner, whitish light.

“Try it,” I say to Dinky. She grabs the stones and hits them against each other.

“Aaargh, my balls!” some colt screams, falling to the ground and clutching his family jewels.

“Sorry!” I say. “Put some ice on them. It should be fine.”

“Cool...” Dinky cooes, giving me the stones back. I think I’ll build some frame for them and give that magic gun to Inkie. After all, I can cast that spell myself too.

I walk to the corner where Ruby is sitting. She’s reading a book and trying to stop my actual nephew, Hannibal, from biting her hoof. Since Hannibal is two year old, he doesn’t quite get the message.

“What the hell is wrong with this kid?” Ruby mutters.

“Well, since you’re my niece and he’s my nephew, you’re technically cousins,” I reply. “Or siblings.”

“No, thanks.” Ruby rolls her eyes and looks at Dinky. “One ‘special’ sibling is enough.”

Geez. In a few years, this kid is going to weaponise puberty. Or alternatively, she’ll become a cute and well-behaved teenager.

Hannibal finally managed to bite Ruby. “You little son of a–”

“Don’t,” I say. “While I agree with your opinion about his mother, you’d better not voice it loudly. Your mom already thinks I taught you those words.”

“Fuck it, my mother is already wearing a lampshade,” Ruby mutters.

I turn back. Indeed, Berry Punch is dancing on my desk with Vinyl, a lampshade on her head. My father is sitting next to them, playing guitar. When did this party escalate?

“You know what?” Vinyl shouts to the crowd. “There’s not enough place here. Let’s go to my pub! Tonight is stand-up night! Open mic! Happy hours!”

The crowd cheers and rushes out of my office. I go with them, because why not? It’s my birthday, after all. Too bad Trixie is not here – she left Ponyville soon after getting her part of the money and I haven’t heard from her since then. She’d be a good stand-up comedian. Now, we will either get killed by Vinyl’s jokes, or drown in awkward silence. Unless some new talent will show up...

“Do you know that Princess Cadance tried stand-up once?” Bon Bon asks the (mostly drunk) audience, staring at them and holding the microphone firmly. “But she didn’t do well. Her jokes were alicorny!” She laughs. Berry Punch, Cherry Berry, Pinkie Pie, Dinky, and Derpy laugh. The rest of the guests smacks their hooves against their foreheads.

“I’m gonna hire her here,” Vinyl says, pouring me another whisky. “When she tells jokes, everypony starts to drink.”

I nod, looking around the pub. It’s still quite new – it was built when we were starting our business. Sometime during the events known as The Mystery of the Exploding Outhouse.

“Are you gonna hire all of them?” I ask. I don’t know if you heard, but Bon Bon has split personality. Hell, each of them has its own voice. There are at least six known: Bonnie, Boney, Bon Boy, Bonsoir, Bon, and Boner. Boner doesn’t show up often and Lyra says that she smacks Bon Bon in the head with a chair every time it happens.

Judging by the slight Prench accent, we are now entertained by Bonsoir. Who, according to Lyra, is a stallion.

“And that reminds me: I once went to the Crystal Empire. Kinda boring, you know. Snow and crystals, like in a meth lab. One day I saw a stadium and went to see a baseball game. Guess what I saw there...” Bon Bon is greeted with silence. “Crystal Umpire!”

I groan, along with all the patrons. Bon Bon doesn’t seem to notice that.

“You’d better get rid of her,” I say. “You have a trapdoor here, right?”

“Yeah,” Vinyl replies. “But then I’d have to go there and tell them a story how I got a scar on my flank.”

“Pinkie knows it,” I say. “Half of the town also knows it because of that. And I know it because I had to put out the fire.”

“Yeah...” Vinyl looks around. “This place seems empty. I’d need some trophies to hang on the walls.”

“What trophies?” I ask.

“Something from your adventures,” Vinyl says, smirking.

“I don’t have adventures, I deliver stuff,” I reply. “What can I give you? A propeller? A package? The teeth of the last guy who tried to get cargo from Inkie without paying?”

“Inkie?” Vinyl looks at Inkie, who is in the corner of the pub, kissing with Coco. “No way.”

Well, I wouldn’t believe that myself. Inkie was always pretty strong and when Berry Punch learned about that, she immediately wanted to spar with her. You know, when we were teenagers, Berry had a shot at wrestling.

Those were cool times. She was known as 3M (Mysterious Masked Murderer), while I was known as 5M (Minuette: Mysterious Masked Murderer’s Manager). It was all going well until one day when Berry had a drink before the fight. She remembered that she was a heel, but she immediately forgot that she was supposed to eventually lose the fight. That poor buffalo girl who fought her didn’t see it coming – a chair to the face, kick to the stomach, facesitting, and a move known since then as Geneighva Convention. You know, because Geneighva Convention banned gas attacks.

Anyway, Berry and Inkie met in the gym, despite Coco’s pleas. Good thing that it happened, actually. We found a fundamental flaw in Inkie’s fight style – after performing the best Applebuck I’d ever seen, Inkie waited for Berry to stand up. Berry didn’t waste the chance.

Since then, we spent a lot of time teaching Inkie to fight dirty. Celestia forbid us.

“I was also in Hoofington once,” Bon Bon continues, even though nopony listens to her. “I lived in a hotel called ‘Song’. But I couldn’t find my key, so I broke into song...”

Somepony walks to me. I turn to see Lyra and some mysterious cloaked figure. Just what I needed on my birthday. “May I ask you something?” she asks.

“Sure,” I say. “But if you want somepony to beat the crap out of your marefriend, ask Inkie.”

“No, it’s not that,” Lyra says, pointing at the cloaked pony. “My boss wanted to talk to you.”

“Wait, weren’t you working for Dar–”

“Ssh!” the cloaked pony hisses, throwing nervous look at Rainbow Dash who is flying above the dancing crowd.

“Okay,” I mutter. “Professor Yearling then, right?”

The cloaked pony who is totally not Daring Do stares at the bottle of Moose Kiss beer Vinyl is holding. “Call me Moose Kiss,” she says. “You see, I’m preparing a quest...”

“A quest, you say?” I ask, making a professional expression. After all, it’s normal – you go to the pub and you get a quest.

“I have to transport all the things I need a few hundred miles away from Equestria,” not-Daring Do says. “Rough terrain, jungle... Also, Ms. Heartstrings and I could use some good companions.”

“Well, we can always get a few helicopters there, but it’ll cost...” I say. I’d rather not mention that my company is called “Turner and Berry – We’ll Transport Your Shit, Like, Everywhere!”, not “Psycho badasses for hire”. Though I may extend my business soon.

“Also, the less vehicles, the better.” not-Daring Do looks around, even though nopony listens to us, except of Vinyl, who’s drinking beer. “Possibly one. There are other ponies who want to put their hooves on this.”

“It’ll be hard,” I say. “I mean, ‘Little Cadance’ needs repairs and it’s not good in rough terrain. I need to ask Cherry Berry when our new plane will be available. Also, I need to ask: is this dangerous?”

I can see her wincing under her hood. “Maybe.” Her eye twitches.

“Yeah... Just what I thought.”

“Ten percent of the total income,” she says. “Of course, I’m covering all the expenses.”

“Thirty,” I say. “Is that thing illegal?”

“I don’t think so,” the cloaked pony replies. “Fifteen percent.”

“Fifteen, and you’ll thank us in the book you will totally not write,” I say. “And some cash from the royalties.”

She sighs. “Okay. You say you have a plane? I want to see it.”

“This may be a problem,” I mutter. “You see, Cherry Berry doesn’t like when somepony watches her unfinished problems. But I can talk to her.” I look at the crowd and see that Cherry Berry is resting her head on the table and snoring. “Be right back.”

I walk to Cherry and shake her. “Wake up, old drunk!” I shout into her ear. “We have a client!”

Cherry opens one eye and looks at me. “And when the time will come, the gods will turn their arses on us and say ‘thou have no balls’,” she says surprisingly clearly for a pony who reeks of distillery.

“Yeah, maybe later,” I mutter. “We have a very important client. She’ll give us a lots of money, but she needs to see your new plane, get it?”

“Money?” I can almost hear some rusty gears turning in Cherry’s head. “Now?”

“Yes, now,” I reply, trying to help her up.

“Fuck it, I’m going to sleep,” Cherry mutters and puts her head back on the table.

“It’s Daring Do,” I say.

“Daring Do?” Cherry exclaims in a raspy voice. “Let’s go!” She stands on the chair and raises her hoof.

“Daring Do? Where?” someone in the crowd asks.

“Nowhere!” I reply, forcing Cherry to stand on her hooves. “It’s just Cherry being Berry... Or something like that. Come on, Inkie, help me walk her home. You too, Moose Kiss.”

Inkie and Coco also rush to help us. Hell, even Vinyl jumps over the counter, levitating a few bottles of beer. So much for stealth.

We walk out of the pub. Vinyl gives me a bottle. I look at it and see that she replaced “k” on the label with “p”. Way to go, Vinyl.

“Why are you going with us?” I ask Vinyl. “Aren’t you afraid about the pub?”

“I trust Lyra on this,” Vinyl replies. “Also, it’s the only occasion to go on an adventure with Daring Do. Not to mention that I need to take a leak.”

“You have a toilet in the pub,” I say. “Not to mention that our outhouse is gone and you know about it well.”

Vinyl makes a move as if she was rolling her eyes – it’s hard to say since she’s still wearing her sunglasses. “I want to unite with the nature. And aerate my private bits.” She spots a handy group of bushes and disappears between them.

“Friend of yours?” Daring Do asks. She took off her hood and looks at the bushes, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah,” I reply. “I think one of her ancestors was a dog – she marks the terrain anywhere she goes.”

“Strange,” Daring Do mutters. “But useful in the places where there’s no water. One guy in Oatstralia told me to always keep a jar–”

“Yeah, my father told me that they say that shit to tourists,” I reply. “By the way, how much stuff do you want to take with you? I have a crew, you know.”

“Who’ll be there?” Daring asks. “Can you trust those ponies?”

“Well, this one here is my second pilot, Inkie Pie. Inkie!”

“Yes?” Inkie finally stops looking into Coco’s eyes. Damn it, I’ve never seen such a good couple.

“Come here and soothe our client’s paranoia.”

“Okay...” Inkie looks at Daring and blushes. “My name is Inkie, I’m twenty-one and I spent most of my life on the rock farm. Now I’m training to be a pilot. I’ve never met Ahuizotl and frankly, I wish I wouldn’t.”

“We may meet him.” Daring Do sighs. “And that mare over there?”

“It’s Coco, my wife. A fashionista,” Inkie replies.

“And you’re a rock farm girl, huh?” Daring Do asks. “Yeah, the strong, silent types...”

“I’m fighting my anxiety,” Inkie mutters. “When this guy didn’t want to pay, I told him that I will resort to physical violence, but he didn’t listen.”

“Anyone else?” Daring turns to me.

“Hexie, our mechanic,” I reply. “She’s recently learned Equine, so you she can be that funny foreign pony. If you write a book, that is.”

“I’ll see,” Daring Do says, watching Vinyl emerging from the bushes. “Better?”

“Better,” Vinyl replies. “Let’s go.”

We walk to the hangar in silence. Cherry produces the key (I guess she keeps it in her tail). She opens the smaller door next to the main gate and we enter the dark building.

“I can’t see shit...” Vinyl mutters.

“Take your sunglasses off,” I say, lighting my horn. Still, it doesn’t help much – I can avoid tripping over the stuff on the floor, but nothing more than that.

“Can you turn on the light?” Coco asks. “I’m afraid of the dark.”

“... and then the darkness will come and swallow us all...” Cherry Berry replies. “There will be weeping there and gnashing of teeth...”

“Stop right there, criminal scum!” somepony shouts in the darkness. “I’m armed and dangerous! Your mom will use your ass as a sieve!”

“Hexie? Is that you?” I ask. “It’s me, Minuette. We wanted to see the plane.”

“Oh really?” Hexie asks. “Then tell me how did we meet...”

“You were a mechanic on the air–” I’m interrupted when the lights of the hangar blind me. Hell, they blind everypony except of Vinyl, who is still wearing her sunglasses.

“Let there be light!” Cherry Berry exclaims, standing by the switch and smiling proudly. Hexie is lying in her hammock, holding something that looks like Ruby’s BB gun. Which makes me wonder where is Vinyl’s shotgun we borrowed over two years ago and forgot to give it back.

“Okay, I see,” Hexie mutters, lowering the gun. “So, umm... the plane is here.”

Daring Do turns to the machine and nods. It already looks fairly impressive, even though it’s mostly the bare frame with engines and steering. The fuselage is generally ready, but it’s still lying in crates stacked in the corner of the hangar. Two engines are mounted close to each other on the parasol wing – they won’t get flooded if we land on water. It’s much bigger than Little Cadance and, even though it uses normal engines, it’s supposed to be faster.

“So, when is it going to be ready?” Daring Do asks.

“We can put it together in two weeks, but we’ll have to test it then,” I reply. “It may take up to six months.”

Daring Do sighs. “Can’t you make it a bit faster? I’m not the only one looking for that thing.”

“Well, if you don’t want everything to fall apart...” Hexie shrugs. “Especially since our main engineer is a bit... eccentric.”

“Divide by cucumber error. Please reinstall Universe and reboot,” Cherry Berry states, resting herself against Daring Do, who fails to dodge her. “Also, we don’t have a name for it.”

“I have!” Vinyl exclaims, producing a piece of dirty paper. “I already sketched the nose art.”

“I’m not letting you paint anything on this plane,” I mutter, seeing the rest of my companions gathering around Vinyl and tilting their heads while watching the picture. I trot to them and take a look. A surprisingly well-drawn pony in there is definitely Coco Pommel. Or rather, her ass, since she’s standing back to the viewers, turning her head to them and staring at them with bedroom eyes.

“Nice,” I mutter. “Wonder what Inkie has to say about that, though.”

“Well, I wonder how did you make Coco pose...” Inkie gives Vinyl a glare suggesting that she may stop being nice to her for a while.

“I’ve drawn it from memory! I swear!” Vinyl exclaims. “We already have Little Cadance, so why not Hot Coco?”

“I’m surprisingly okay with that,” Coco mutters, her face turning bright red. “It’s a nice picture...”

“See?” Vinyl smirks. “She likes it.”

“Okay,” Daring Do says. “Name doesn’t matter when we don’t have a plane. How about this one?” She points at Little Cadance. It’s far from what you’d call a “flyable condition” – battered fuselage and paint peeling off. We don’t use it that much – it’s good for longer distances. Pedal-powered helicopters are all what we need to get from Las Pegasus to Manehattan and back. And we usually make shorter routes.

“I guess we can prepare it to fly in a week,” I reply. “But it’s not as fast and can’t carry that much stuff.”

“Well, the first travel won’t be that long,” Daring Do replies. “Maneaus, Marezil.”

“The first, you say?” I ask. “There will be more?” I already start counting. If this turns out to be profitable, our company may really take off.

“Probably,” Daring Do replies. “Depending on what we find.”

“Okay,” I say. “You and Lyra can start bringing your stuff here. We’ll take Little Cadance for a ride. Who knows, maybe we’ll get Hot Coco on our next trip?” It sounded less dirty in my head.

“Sure,” Daring Do says. “It’ll take a while anyway... I have to make some more preparations.” She yawns. “How about talking about it tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” I reply. I’m also rather sleepy and I want to follow Hexie who goes back to her hammock. “Thanks for the wishes, everypony. Goodnight.”

I wake up with a slight hangover. This is not bad, since I at least woke up in my own bed, without any strange ponies sleeping with me. I raise from the bed and take a look on the two stones on my nightstand – the gift from Dinky, I guess.

I smirk and levitate the stones, walking downstairs, to my basement. I have a small workshop there, filled with various stuff I use to repair watches. Well, it’s been a while since I repaired any watch, but you get the idea.

It takes some rummaging through the drawers to find the right parts. I levitate a screwdriver to put the elements of the frame together; I put the smaller stone in the spring-loaded hammer and connect it to the trigger. Inkie will need to cock it after every shoot, but, after all, how many guys can attack us at once? And she doesn’t have to fry the balls of every single one.

I get the smaller screwdrivers – time to add a safety catch in case Vinyl ever puts her hooves on it. The final result looks like two crystals mounted onto a half of the revolver’s frame. Small and elegant (if there’s something elegant in attacking the others’ family jewels) – I’ll definitely feel better about Inkie if she keeps it by her side.

To think about it, I’m gonna call it Jewel Gun. The pun is too hard to resist.

I hear grumbling in my stomach and realise that it’s almost noon. I walk out of my basement and trot to Vinyl’s pub – if I’m not mistaken, she’s currently serving so called “hangover breakfasts/dinners” – lots of spicy stuff and coffee for half a price.

The pub is almost empty, except of Bon Bon, who’s resting herself against the table and probably regretting all the sins she committed yesterday. There were apparently more guests here, judging by the fact that Vinyl is washing the dishes, whistling some happy tune.

“Hello,” she says, seeing me. “What brings you here?”

“Your famous hangover breakfast,” I reply. “Or rather dinner, I think.”

“Okay,” Vinyl mutters. “So, one Capsaicin Evisceration for you, right?”

“Yes, please,” I mutter. After a while I get a plate of something reddish that probably died a while ago and was since then drowned in chilli and warmed up a few times. Which actually makes it better. You know, Vinyl’s cooking is balancing on the thin line between “actually edible”, “poisonous”, and “why did no one weaponise this?”.

Without looking at my food (since I don’t like when it stares back at me), I levitate the first spoonful of it to my mouth. Even though I’m pretty used to that stuff, it still manages to burn its way through my oesophagus and cause a small revolution in my stomach. I grab a glass of water and take a long sip. Somehow, it evaporates halfway through.

“You okay?” Vinyl asks. “I think today’s batch is a bit weak, you know?”

“M-maybe,” I mutter. The rest of the dish is much easier to swallow due to my taste buds being burned out by the first portion. Still, I’m gonna regret it later. Maybe it won’t be the Exploding Outhouse, but still not a very pleasant experience.

While I’m eating, some pony wearing a dark cloak walks into the pub. Oh, come on! Wonder what kind of shady business he has to do here?

Of course, he walks to me. “Good morning,” he says.

“Morning,” I reply. “I’ve heard that one’s supposed to wear those cloaks in the evening.”

“Maybe,” he replies. “But I have a message for you that can’t wait till the evening.”

“A message?” I cock the Jewel Gun under the table. “What message?”

“Don’t travel with Daring Do,” the cloaked pony replies. “Or else, you’ll get into trouble.”

I shake my head. “It’s not the first time I get into trouble. I’ll take a risk.”

He sighs and reaches under his cloak. “I think we’ll manage to– Aargh!” He clutches his balls, which just got hit by the Jewel Gun and falls off the chair. Bon Bon wakes up, looks around, and goes back to sleep. Before the guy can stand up, I kick him, revealing a bag of bits he was about to give me.

“So, you were trying to bribe me?” I ask.

He nods, rolling on the floor and holding his crotch. Vinyl walks out of the kitchen and looks at the scene, raising her eyebrows.

“Sorry for the mess,” I say, putting the bits on the counter and leaving the pub.

Author's Notes:

Art by arcanelexicon