Removing the bandage proved how wrong Octy was about the severity of my wounds. It had only been two days and the wound had already been cleaned up. Not gone, but more of closed. It was now a fine scab just on my forehead. Brushing it with my hoof didn't make it bleed, so I wasn't scared of going out the house.

Walking down to the pawn nearby, I thought it be a good place to stop. It wasn't too far down the road either, just a few blocks and it'd on the left. As I got closer to the building I saw the sign I had seen the night I got reunited with Octavia. This time the name of the pawn was visible.

"Moss pawn and gun"

Well, it won't be as discrete as Rock's pawn, but it'd do. As soon as I had trotted through the door, I heard a loud ring. There was a small bell above the door. Over the walls lay posters, cameras, and all other types of junk that runs through a pawn. On the far end, however, was the counter. Behind said counter were racks and racks of brand new or gently used firearms. I trotted over to the mare behind said counter.

"I'm guessing you're Moss?"

"What?"

"The sign? Normally pawns are named after the owner."

"I'm sorry I just work here sir..."

Well shit.

"So well what are you looking for?"

I took a quick look at what they had, I needed something that they wouldn't notice was gone. I looked for the most generic firearm I possibly could, one that if I threw in a river nobody would be shocked.

"I'll take the .38 you have just under the desk."

She reached under and grabbed the handgun with her mouth. She gave me the price after dropping it on the table. No regard for firearms safety.

"That's going to run you 120 bits."

"Really? What is it anyway?"

"Just your average Saturday Night Special."

"Well it'll do."

I put down a hundred and one fifty, then walked out the door without grabbing the change. She's probably not going to see me again so I might as well give her a tip. I walked back towards the apartment, which took probably fifty seconds. The time I got to the apartment showed that Octy was on the couch, watching TV.

That wasn't the abnormal part. Not the part where she was watching TV at least. But it was something about how she was sitting. Her legs propped up behind the couch, head against the floor, hoofs in a bag of chips, it was like she was trying to sit upside down. Rather then bother her, I just walked past her. I'd bring the revolver up later, she was busy right now.

As I entered the bedroom, I noticed that Octavia had made the bed. I always took her for a organized pony so it shouldn't surprise me. Guess that's what happens after you sleep on a couch for almost a year. I sat down on the bed and threw the new revolver on the night stand.

Pulling it close to my eye, I inspected the barrel. There were minor scratches on it, but it professionally sawed. By which I mean someone brought it to a gunsmith and had the barrel replaced. There wasn't any gunsmith's name on the side of the barrel, so it wasn't done by a lone gunsmith. Maybe the previous owner took it to a specialized gun store and had their gunsmith do it? I can't think of many gunsmiths that fully tamper with the firearm's vital parts, other then to replace them of course.

I opened the chamber, which revealed that it was clean. Not that it wasn't dirty, but that it was empty. After all, last time I bought a used firearm I got 8 buckshot shells free. I then took a look down the barrel. Anypony that has owned a firearm has been instructed specifically NOT to do this, but I had to see how clean this barrel was in order to judge if I needed to clean it out or not.

The interior of the barrel was filthy. The grime and dirt were deep within the barrel, housed snug in the rifling of the barrel. As much as I wanted to, I didn't have the supplies to clean it. Lets just hope she doesn't ever need to use it beyond 10 feet. The accuracy is probably awful because of that dirt.

I closed the chamber by swinging the handgun to the right, which made the cylinder swing to the frame. I spun it with my hoof to make sure that it would lock in place. The name of the firearm was scratched out, but it looked like a colt. I walked out of the room and placed the .38 in my bag, or at least would've if Octavia didn't spot me.

"What do you have there?" She said. Her face was quizzical and her head cockeyed.

"Well, guess there's no hiding it."

I lifted the .38 up to her view, not before dropping it in her hoofs.

"You already know how to use it, but I thought you'd need something for yourself."

"Well I didn't ask..."

"You didn't need to, I knew you'd need it."

"Well, thanks."

It was over as soon as it started, so she went back to watching TV, this time in a more normal position. Rather then watch it with her, I walked back over to the bag. I grabbed my leather jacket and my .38. Putting the jacket on first, I then threw the .38 in the pocket of it.

The door was less than obedient when I tried to close it. It just squealed shut, and it didn't actually close. As soon as my hoof was off it began moving back open. I ran back and closed it again, then I kicked it for good measure. This just resulted in a crack forming in the door. Well at least it closed.

I walked away from the building, and this time in the opposite direction of the pawn. Not many taxi's run through the Ghetto. The Drivers are either too scared to get jumped or just no money to be made here I guess. I walked a good 7 blocks until I was outside of the Ghetto, which led me to the busiest road in Canterlot. Taxis used to run through here often, and my bet is that they still do.

I almost sat down on a bus stop bench, that is until I heard the snore. I looked at where I was about to sit, and on the bench was a rugged pony. She was dressed in a beanie cap and a thick winter coat, there were some rips in her pants but they were nothing major. She didn't have a home, I always have guilt for them. But then I saw what was sleeping under the bench.

He was young, a filly actually. Brown coat and orange mane. I could hear him whimper inside the box that he probably called home. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Excuse me. ma'am?"

She slowly woke and looked at me, she didn't look angry, but just annoyed.

"What do you want?"

"Well, you could use this more then me."

I handed her a twenty bit bill, she quickly grabbed it out my hoofs. She shoved it deep into her jacket. The thing she forgot to do, however, was thank me. By the time I looked up a taxi was on it's way. I waved through the air to see if the driver would stop for me, which he did. Stepping into the back I was sucked into a comfortable seat. It was a type of seat made to make you feel at home, one that would make you feel that you were taken care of.

"So where you headed?" said a thick Prench accent.

"How far am I from Brookshade?"

"Can't say the distance, but it'll probably cost you less then fifty."

"Well, that's where I'm headed."

He put the timer on as soon as I said that and started driving. He didn't turn the radio on so I took the time to pull my MP3 player out.
It really made the ride go faster. I was there in no time.

As soon as I got there he listed the price.

"That's gonna run you 43 bits."

I pulled my money clip and handed him a fifty, he gave me the change and I was on my way inside Filthy's neighborhood.

Brookshade is filled with mansions, probably because it was so close to the Equestrian senate building that all the senators would live here. Fancy was no senator, he was a movie producer. Above that, he was a genius. He released a movie that everyone knew how it would end, yet still he made billions in the box office. It takes some brains to market that.

He married Flour Dis Lee, a Prench model. She probably married fancy because he could provide the lifestyle she craved. That and it gives you some real status to be married to Fancy Pants. If she got married to him, then she would definitely be 10 times larger then she was before.

Walking all the way down to the end of the neighborhood, I looked for what I remembered to be Fancy's house. He lived in the last cul-de-sac on the main road. He had the biggest house to, so there was no way I'd be able to miss it. I was almost at the last one, so I took a cut through one of their neighbor's houses.

Now I didn't go inside their house, I just walked towards their backyard in a attempt to get a good view at the windows in the back of Fancy's house. I sneaked through some underbrush, pulling not my firearm but my MP3 player. It doubles as a camera, though it's not excellent it works.

In his backyard were two fillies, one of them was a young colt, the other a young mare. I took a picture where they were both in the shot, then looked through the windows. After passing a dining room with some fancy furniture, a kitchen and a bathroom (I would not want to use that restroom). Then in the kitchen I saw movement. I quickly adjusted my head (and MP3) back to the kitchen, and inside was Flour Dis Lee. She was just walking through but I had time to snap a picture.

Then in the very top floor, third one to be exact, I saw Filthy in his office. It was a similar setup to the one Filthy had. I took a picture of him, he was looking in my direction. I jumped below the bush to make sure that he didn't see me, hopefully I was done in time. Crawling over out of sight, I was sure not to make any noise. I ran out of the neighborhood unnoticed, got in a cab, and headed home.